Features
Berdina Shorten: Her long and circuitous journey to returning to her Jewish roots
By BERNIE BELLAN Berdina Shorten has lived in Winnipeg since coming here with her family from the Netherlands in 1953. Although Berdina was Jewish by ancestry (going back to her great-grandmother), she hadn’t been raised Jewish. It was only several years after having come to Canada – and having got married, that Berdina – and her late husband, Ken Shorten, both converted to Judaism.
Typically, the stories we publish in this paper about people’s wartime experiences have to do with the Holocaust. Those stories are all certainly horrendous – and almost always riveting, but when I happened to be talking to Berdina about a totally unrelated subject (the renewal of her subscription) and the conversation got around to her wartime experiences, I said to her that I wanted to write about her story.
I should also mention that I had heard Berdina speak at the Shaarey Zedek several years ago, but at that time I didn’t take any notes. (I can’t recall exactly why I was there or how I happened to be in the room when Berdina told her story, but I remember thinking that this would make a great story for the paper some day.)
In any event, here’s a recounting of the first part of Berdina’s story, based on a phone interview that I conducted with her on February .
First, a little history is needed, in order to understand the context for what happened to Berdina and her family.
The German army had invaded Poland in September 1939. After consolidating its gains there, Germany turned its attention to Western Europe in April 1940, first by invading Norway and Denmark, then launching an attack through Belgium into that country, also the Netherlands and Luxembourg (despite those three countries having adopted positions of neutrality).
The German invasion of The Netherlands began on May 10, 1943.
That is where Berdina’s story picks up. But first, a little background on her family history.
Berdina’s father, Theodore (or Theo, as he was known) was a master leather cutter. His “family was Protestant, but his mother was Catholic, so he was raised Catholic,” she said.
As Berdina explained, “his family had come from France in 1610. He used to say the reason his family didn’t go to the New World was ‘no pretty cruise directors, no first class cabins, no air conditioning.’ The real reason was they were Huguenots and they weren’t allowed to go to the New World – unless they went to England and went with the Protestants,” e.g., the Pilgrims on the Mayflower.)
Berdina’s mother (Anna), however, “was born Jewish” but, as Berdina noted, “the family never practiced Judaism. What happened was her mother was born Jewish to a Dutch girl and a German Rhine skipper. Her father died when she was four years old, so her mother went back to Holland, but her family wouldn’t accept her back because she had married someone who was not Jewish. She raised her child (Berdina’s grandmother) with the help of local charities and working in a grocery store.
“When she met my great-grandfather, he was more Catholic than the Pope, so she never practiced her religion and she raised her children as Catholic – but they were actually Jewish – by Jewish law.
“It wasn’t until I was 12 – and I had been sent to Catholic school. I was always challenging the nuns. I wanted to check out Judaism, but I wasn’t allowed.
I asked Berdina whether “she had an awareness that she was Jewish?”
She said she did. “I always knew. My mother knew also, but they hid it.”
I asked then how she knew about her Jewish heritage?
She answered: “My relatives. I heard conversations when I was a child.”
While, Her mother “didn’t practice any religion, her “father did. He’d go to Mass once in a while,” Berdina noted.
When the Germans invaded the Netherlands, Berdina’s father was in the Dutch army, fighting on the “Grebenberg (or the Grebbe line, the main line of Dutch defence)– where they held the Germans back for many days.” (Actually, it wasn’t many days at all – only three. The Dutch were badly equipped and totally outmaneuvered by the Germans.)
Berdina continued her story: “My father was a fantastic shot…But the Queen (Wilhelmina) capitulated. They were bombing the hell out of Rotterdam (May 14, 1940).” The Netherlands surrendered the next day.
Berdina’s father was taken prisoner and sent to work as a forced labourer (in Germany): “So my father was taken and put into a factory. He was a master leather cutter – making shoes.”
Berdina’s family lived very close to the German border with the Netherlands. Thus, even though Theo was forced to work in Germany, it was only a three-hour walk for him to return to his hometown – and his family. It seems somewhat strange to think of someone who’s kept as a forced labourer – which Berdina described as “slave labour”, yet who was allowed to return home on weekends, as she explained:
He was allowed to go home (where mother lived) once a week, Berdina said. “He was given one egg a week, so he would take that egg with him, so my brother (Corey, who was born four years before Berdina) would be able to have at least a little bit of protein in his diet.”
All the while Theodore though, was part of the Dutch underground– meeting with other members of the underground surreptitiously while he was in forced labour for the Germans.
Berdina told this story about one harrowing brush with danger her father had while he was in the resistance: “A story he told was that he was going to a meeting (of the underground) with a friend. They were caught by a young German soldier and the soldier” pointed his rifle at them and “told them to put their hands up. Somehow my father was able to overtake this young soldier.
“His friend said ‘We have to run.’ My father said, ‘No, we can’t. If we run and they find him (the soldier), they’ll kill ten people on this street.“ (That was the retribution the Germans typically exacted, Berdina explained.)
“So my father was able to get a hold of some liquor, put it over the kid’s mouth, then took his guns and papers to the nearest police station, which was controlled by the Germans, and said: ‘One of your soldiers was drunk and we took his guns and papers before he hurt someone.’
“My father was given a pass to go anywhere he wanted that night.”
I asked Berdina if she knew when it was that her father fled the factory for good and ended up going totally “underground” with the Dutch Resistance, but she said she didn’t know exactly when that happened.
When the Canadian army reached Holland in September 1944, anyone who had been in the Dutch army was able to join the Canadian army, Berdina explained, so her father ended up joining the Canadian army.
“When the Dutch army reorganized, he went back to the Dutch army.”
Her father was uncomfortable talking about what he did during the war, Berdina noted, but according to her brother, Theo had once told him that he “had killed at least one German that he knew of (a sniper) and probably more, but he wasn’t sure.”
I asked Berdina whether there were any other memories from the war that she wanted to talk about.
She said there was a young girl – only 14, in her town, “who was the first girl (in Berdina’s home town) to get pregnant by a German soldier.”(That soldier died in a plane crash coming back from North Africa, Berdina added.) “She was also the first girl to get pregnant by a Canadian soldier.
“After the war the people in that community were going to get her and shave her head and send her packing.
“My mother said to my father: ‘That little girl is still only 15 years old. She’s still walking around in Bobby socks and skipping with a skipping rope. Theo (Berdina’s father), could you please do something to stop those people from hurting her?’
“My father went out on to the street and he saw about 50 people coming for the girl. He stopped them.”
In 1953, Berdina, along with her parents and three brothers (two of whom were born after the end of the Second World War), came to Canada.
“My father started to work as leather cutter in the Canada West shoe factory,” Berdina explained.
“Maitland Steinkopf hired him. Eventually my father started to work in St. Boniface Hospital; he’d had a year’s medical training in Edinborough after the war – so he started to work in the hospital, in the x-ray department.
“He worked four hours a night doing piece work for Maitland. He made more money doing that than he did in the hospital.”
I was curious to know more about Maitland Steinkopf and his connection to the shoe business. I knew that Steinkopf was a very successful businessman who also played a leading role in the development of the Centennial Concert Hall, as well as being a prominent Conservative politician and cabinet minister, but other than that I didn’t know much about him.
Berdina said to me that Steinkopf’s success in the shoe manufacturing business was a result of his decision to go to Minneapolis at one point and come back with the Canadian rights to a line of shoes called “Hush Puppies”. That reminded me of another famous decision made by a local Jewish businessman – Samuel Cohen, who decided to begin importing transistor radios made by a company called Sony.
Turning to Berdina’s decision to become Jewish, here is how she explained how that came about:
“My late husband, Ken Shorten (whom I incorrectly referred to as Frank in my previous article), came from an Irish family – that originally came to Canada in 1690, and they farmed in the McCreary area.
“He worked in Eatons – and I worked in Eatons as well. That’s where I met him and we got married.
“Well, he was Protestant and I had been raised in a Catholic environment. We decided that we weren’t going to let the difference in our faiths have a negative effect on us, so we just stuck to ourselves when it came to the religious part.
“But that didn’t work for me and it didn’t work for him and I always knew about my Jewish heritage, so I said to him one day: ‘You know, I’d like to learn more about Judaism; it’s part of my heritage.’ And he said: ‘Me, too.’
“He had some very good Jewish friends at the time (who were all in the NDP). One of them was Cy Gonick, another was Harry Shafransky. He got to know quite a few Jewish politicians. He liked their ethics, liked their values, and so we started to look into Judaism.
“We went to see Rabbi Nesis and (the late) Rabbi Berkal, and we studied with them for two years, and then made the conversion.”
Interestingly, Berdina said that she also spoke with (the late) Rabbi Weizman, who told her that “You can’t convert – you’re already Jewish”.
“But, I said to him, ‘It’s my decision. It’s my journey. I want to do the process.’
“We had two children that we had adopted before we decided to convert – and we brought them in with us.”
I asked when this all happened?
Berdina said the conversion process went from 1973-75.
“We were officially converted in May of ’75,” she said, “and then we were married in the rabbi’s office again.”
“I sang in the Shaarey Zedek choir for 36 years,” Berdina added, “and my son, Theodore, sang in the choir for 20 years…and both kids had their bar and bat mitzvah together.”
“It was the best decision I ever made in my life,” Berdina observed. “It completed me as a human being. I finally fit – because I used to question those nuns. I must have been a real pain in the tuch.”
I asked, “Do you have relatives remaining in Holland?”
Berdina answered: “Yes, I have many.”
I asked, “Are any of them Jewish?”
She answered, “I have one cousin who recognizes himself as Jewish – and that’s it.”
I said to Berdina that what she had told me about her Jewish ancestry and her family’s subsequent conversion to Christianity, it jives with what I had read about how commonplace it was for Jews to have become Christians. I said that I recalled hearing from the late Rabbi Rappaport that only about one-quarter of all Jews in Europe remained Jewish through the years. The rest either converted willingly or by force.
During the course of our conversation, Berdina told me many more stories about her wartime experiences in the Netherlands, all of which were fascinating. Since she was only two years old by war’s end, naturally the stories she tells are one that have been recounted to her by others, but they are all worth retelling.
One that stood out for me in particular was about a Jewish doctor who was kept hidden by his Dutch housekeeper, unbeknownst to anyone else in the town. According to Berdina, when German soldiers came to the house looking for the doctor in 1940, the housekeeper said to them: “I kicked him out long ago when I knew you would be coming. He was miserable to work for and he never paid me enough.”
All through the war that housekeeper was ostracized by her fellow townspeople, as the doctor was universally loved. As Berdina told it, when the town was liberated by Canadian soldiers in 1944, the doctor emerged from the basement – where he had been kept hidden the entire period of occupation by the housekeeper.
Berdina is a great storyteller and when I asked her whether she’d be willing to tell her story to other audiences – as I had heard her do several years ago at the Shaarey Zedek, she readily agreed. If a day comes when Berdina will be able to tell her story to a new audience, I’ll be sure to post something in this paper.
Features
“A Brilliant Life” – biography of one Holocaust survivor who, like so many other survivors, married someone just to try to establish some sense of normalcy
Book Review by JULIE KIRSH, “former Sun Media News Research Director
In 1946 my parents met, fell in love and married. In 1947 they had their first child. This was not unusual. However, they were 20 years apart in age.
After World War II, Holocaust survivors who had lost everything – family, home and community, sought to rebuild their lives by marrying, having children and restoring their shattered lives.
They wanted to experience normality which meant having a spouse, children and recreating a family that had been lost in the flames of the Holocaust.
The survivors were few in number so age difference, religious background or compatibility were not as crucially scrutinized as before the war.
The author of “My Brilliant Life’s” grandmother, Genya, whose family was from Poland, married young and was told by her religious father-in-law that she had to wear a sheitel or wig. Genya balked, but since all other Jewish observances were met, the marriage was sanctioned
Genya and her husband Dolfie had five children. The youngest child was Mira, mother of the author, Rachelle Unreich, who has written poignantly of her family’s history in “A Brilliant Life.”
In 2017, in Melbourne, Australia, 88-year-old Mira Unreich was diagnosed with cancer. Her journalist daughter, Rachelle, knew that time was limited and so she interviewed her mother extensively, to learn about her life before, during and after the Holocaust.
As her mother recounts, the transports started in Slovakia in March 1942, when Mira was one month shy of fifteen.
Dolfie, Mira’s father, was clever and prescient. He obtained false Christian papers for Mira and sent her to rent a room and work for a fabric store owner. He also told his family repeatedly that if they were in danger, each person should look after themself. Many times he said, you must “just save yourselves”.
By the end of August 1944, the noose around the family had tightened. Slovakia was not a safe haven for Jews and the end was imminent for the remaining Jewish families in Dolfie’s town. One day, SS officers burst into their home and shot Dolfie in front of his wife Genya, son Yanchi, and daughter Mira. This tragedy shadowed the lives of the family up to the present.
In Melbourne, Mira met and married Pavel, who was thirteen years her senior. Again, the match was not as much a love match, but for Mira it was a chance to have security and comfort after all that she had gone through in the Holocaust.
When Mira married in 1946, she was only 19 years old. Like my own 22-year-old mother – who married a man 20 years older than herself, Mira was fun-loving and strove to make up for lost time.
Less than two years after liberation, Mira gave birth to a son and then two daughters. The family moved to Paris, where Mira enjoyed everything the City of Lights had to offer. Pavel, on the other hand, was serious, less social, and more of an observer than a participant in life.
In 1959, Australia seemed remote and safe, a vast land of opportunity with a citizen army that was founded as an entity to defend all her people regardless of race or religion. At the time, Australia hosted the largest community of Holocaust survivors in the world outside of Israel. By 1960, Holocaust survivors and their families made up 60% of Melbourne’s Jewish community.
Eventually, Pavel left Mira and the family and died in Belgium, never remarrying. Mira met Manny, eleven years her senior, whose family had also experienced tragedy in the Holocaust. They were drawn to each other. In 1966, Rachelle, the author of A Brilliant Life, was born.
The title of the book reflects the kind of person Mira was. She was affectionate, considerate, and a capable mother who accommodated her children’s needs.
Mira, like most Holocaust survivors, had a number tattooed on her arm. As children of survivors, we see the tattoo as a blight and painful reminder. However the author had another insight. For her, the tattoo designated someone who could work and more importantly – had been chosen to live.
As a child of survivors, I have asked myself the question that the author asks Mira in Chapter 37: Why had she survived when so many others had not? The author believes that her mother had a purity, a spiritual honesty, that drew others to her, and that ultimately helped her to survive.
Mira was honoured by her children in death as she was in life. The words on her tombstone were stark and plain spoken: “She witnessed her father murdered by the Nazis/Her mother, brother and sister were killed in the Holocaust/She survived four concentration camps/yet she still loved her life with an unwavering positive attitude.”
My father survived Auschwitz and Buchenwald. Like Mira, he was a positive, happy man, who loved his family and adopted country. Mira, like my father, had seen the worst of humanity, yet they both chose to concentrate on the best of it.
Why is this Holocaust memoir different from others? Trauma runs deep and very often defines the post Holocaust lives of many survivors. For Mira, her trauma was superseded by her innate resilience, her strength of character and her capacity to overcome tragedy. Her hopeful nature gave sustenance and meaning to her family.
This is a story that resonated for me personally, underscored by the universal themes of love and hope common to all.
“A Brilliant Life”
by Rachelle Unreich.
Published by Black & White Publishing, 2023
Features
Tiblisi, Georgia – a new hotbed for dental tourism, especially for Israelis
Introduction: A few weeks ago we received an interesting email from someone who asked whether we would consider publishing a story about dental tourism in Georgia (not the Georgia in the U.S. – the Georgia that is a former Soviet republic). In that email we were told that Georgia has become an especially popular destination for Israelis looking for quality dental care at affordable prices. So we responded: Go ahead and send us something.
The author of what you’re about to read, whose name is Constantin Dicusar, admits that English is not his first language, so he asks that you forgive any awkward phrasing. But I’m sure that, if you read at least part of this story you’ll be intrigued by what he has to say about a part of the world that I doubt many of our readers know much about.
By CONSTANTIN DICUSAR Tbilisi, Georgia, is the latest destination for Jews from all over the world seeking dental tourism. Dr. Iza Dzidzikashvili, co-founder of a dental clinic in Tiblisi, says: “Jews come from all over the world and choose Georgia because of the low level of anti-Semitism, the low prices and the high quality, as well as the good relations between Israel and Georgia.”
Georgia is a country in the South Caucasus that is relatively little known in the West and in Canada. In 1991, it declared its independence from the USSR, becoming one of the first Soviet union republics to break away from the former imperial power, which was to collapse a year later.
Although it has only very recently chosen to pursue the path of European integration, Georgian society had already distinguished itself long before independence as a nation with deep-rooted Christian-European cultural and civilisational values. Georgian hospitality bears many similarities to that of Moldova, and Georgian wines, renowned throughout the world, have made Georgia the cradle of global winemaking.
Georgian wines are believed to have an 8,000-year-old tradition based on the unique method of fermentation in clay vessels called qvevri, which are included in UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage list. Among other interesting facts, Georgia was one of the first nations in the world to adopt Christianity as its state religion, in the 4th century.
More recently, Georgia has also managed to build a strong reputation in another sector: international dental tourism. Tens of thousands of tourists from all over the world visit Georgia every year – particularly the capital, Tbilisi – to combine sightseeing with dental treatment.
According to Georgia Today, the majority of foreign tourist-patients come from neighbouring countries or the wider region (Russia, Azerbaijan, Armenia, as well as from the Middle East – Israel, Qatar, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia). In recent years, Georgia has also become a magnet for many people from Europe and the US. Jews – both Israeli citizens and Jews from the Diaspora and around the world – represent a distinct group of patients who have chosen Georgia for dental services.
Read more about this in the exclusive interview conducted with Dr Iza Dzidzikashvili, a dentist, practising surgeon and co-founder of Bucho Denti in Tbilisi, Georgia:
Constantin Dicusar (for jewishpostandnews.ca): When was Bucho Denti founded, and who is behind the project? Tell us more about how your story began.
Dr. Dzidzikashvili: First of all, welcome, and thank you very much for your interest in our clinic. Bucho Denti was founded in 2000 by sisters Iza and Tea Dzidzikashvili and Vasif Aliyev. Today, all three are among the leading dental specialists in Tbilisi. Since we were already three experienced specialists, we decided to create an environment where patients could feel comfortable, safe, and confident, while receiving the highest standard of dental care. This philosophy became the foundation of Bucho Denti and continues to guide our development today.
Constantin Dicusar: What do you know about international dental tourism in the Caucasus region, and specifically in Georgia and Tbilisi?Dr. Iza Dzidzikashvili, dentist, surgeon practicing and co-founder of Bucho Denti: International dental tourism has been growing significantly in the Caucasus region, and particularly in Georgia. One of the main reasons is Georgia’s combination of hospitality, safety, high-quality dental care, and affordability. Dental standards in Georgia are comparable to European standards, while treatment costs are more accessible than in many other countries. This combination of quality, safety, affordability, and comfort has created growing interest among international patients.
Constantin Dicusar (The Jewish Post & News reporter): How has international dental tourism changed your operational, staffing, sales, and marketing strategie
Dr. Dzidzikashvili: The growth of international dental tourism significantly changed our vision and the way we operate. One of our main goals became to reduce the overall treatment time as much as possible — without compromising quality. We developed our infrastructure and workflows to allow patients to complete their treatment efficiently while maintaining a high standard of care. We also introduced complete treatment packages that can include hotel accommodation, airport transfers, and other services international patients may need. Our goal is to make patients feel safe, comfortable, and supported throughout their entire stay. We also incorporated tourism into the experience, giving patients the opportunity to explore Georgia and travel during their treatment period.
Constantin Dicusar: Did you envision engaging in international dental tourism right from the time the clinic was established, or did that come about later?
Dr. Dzidzikashvili: To be honest, we had always considered the idea of working with international patients. However, this direction developed much more actively as demand for international dental treatment increased. We adapted and developed our services according to the needs of international patients.
Constantin Dicusar: Tell us more about your staff. In which languages do you communicate with your international patients, and does the multilingual staff include dental assistants as well as the doctors themselves?
Dr. Dzidzikashvili: Our doctors have decades of professional experience, with some of our specialists having more than 30 years of experience. Our team communicates with international patients in English. To make the experience even more comfortable, we also provide communication support in Hebrew and Arabic, including professional interpreters. For us, it is very important that patients understand every stage of their treatment clearly and feel comfortable throughout the process.
Constantin Dicusar: Let’s also talk about international patients: which countries do most of them come from, and which dental services do they seek out most often? We know from reports originating in Israel and Georgia that Tbilisi has become an increasingly popular dental destination, frequently chosen by Jewish patients as well. Have you observed this trend at your clinic? If so, which countries do most of these Jewish patients come from?
Dr. Dzidzikashvilii: Yes, we have definitely noticed this trend, and the number of Jewish patients has been increasing every year. We would like to point out that the majority of our Jewish patients are citizens of Israel; they come from Israel. One important factor is the relatively short travel time between Israel and Tbilisi — approximately 2 hours and 30 minutes. Dental treatment in Georgia is also more affordable compared with Israel. Georgia is already well known and popular among Israeli travelers, so patients are generally familiar with the country and feel more confident about choosing it for treatment. After Israel, the United Kingdom is another important market for us, followed by different European countries. We have also treated Jewish patients from Canada, which shows that interest in Georgia is not limited to one or another particular country. The most common treatments requested by international patients are full-mouth rehabilitation, dental implants, and zirconia crowns.
Constantin Dicusar: Do you think that the good relations between Israel and Georgia, along with the low level of antisemitism in Georgia, encourage Jewish patients—particularly Russian-speaking Jews from across the former Soviet Union—to choose Georgia for such services?
Dr. Dzidzikashvili: Of course, the long-standing friendship and positive relationship between Georgia and Israel is very important. This relationship helps Israeli patients feel safe and comfortable when choosing Georgia for treatment. When a patient travels to another country for medical care, price and quality are not the only factors that matter. Trust, safety, communication, and the overall environment are equally important. We believe that the strong relationship between Georgia and Israel contributes significantly to this sense of trust.
Constantin Dicusar: What strategies do you plan to develop over the coming years to grow international dental tourism? Are you considering becoming more attractive destination for Jewish people from Canada and USA who are looking for dental services that are more affordable than those in their home countries?
Dr. Dzidzikashvili: In the future, our goal is to create a large-scale international dental center where everything is available in one place. We envision a facility combining a dental clinic, hotel, and restaurant, creating a comfortable environment specifically designed for international patients. Our vision is for patients to receive high-quality dental treatment, relax, enjoy their stay, and, if they wish, explore Georgia — all as part of one complete experience. At the same time, we are actively working to make Bucho Denti better known internationally and to reach more patients who could benefit from our services. Our main goal is to offer international patients accessible treatment while maintaining European-level standards of dental care.
Constantin Dicusar: Finally, we would like to turn our attention once more to Georgia and Tbilisi as tourist destinations. You are likely aware that in Europe—particularly in the western part—the worrying rise of antisemitism has limited the options available to Jewish travelers seeking dental tourism. Budapest remains the dental capital of Europe and is well-known within the Jewish community; more recently, Romania, Moldova, and perhaps Riga (Latvia) have also emerged as options, each offering distinct advantages and tourism amenities. From this perspective, what can Georgia and its capital, Tbilisi, offer? What makes Georgia unique as a destination compared to the others?
Dr. Dzidzikashvili: Compared with the countries you mentioned, one of Georgia’s main advantages is the combination of more affordable dental treatment with European-level quality. Another important advantage is the availability of complete treatment packages, including dental care, accommodation, transfers, and other services. Georgia is also an attractive tourism destination. Patients can combine their dental treatment with the opportunity to explore beautiful places, experience Georgian culture, and discover the country. Safety is another important factor. Georgia is a relatively small country, which contributes to a well-controlled environment, and the level of crime is relatively low. Ultimately, we believe that the combination of quality, affordability, safety, hospitality, and tourism opportunities gives Georgia a unique position. Our goal is that when an international patient comes to Georgia, they receive not only high-quality dental treatment, but a complete, safe, comfortable, and well-organized patient experience from beginning to end.
Features
Buck In Situ: A Dog Story
By DAVID TOPPER I suppose the first thing I should say is that, although this is a true story, it’s not about a real dog. (That may be obvious if you look at the picture accompanying this tale.) Yes, the dog – a wooden statue – is Buck.
I do want to explain what “in situ” means. For those who know the term, it betrays the fact that I was a teacher of art history before I retired. It’s a Latin term that refers to an art object being in its original or natural place. For example, the famous Elgin Marbles (statues of Greek gods, goddesses and other mythological figures), which are prized objects in the British Museum in London, were taken by Lord Elgin from the Acropolis high over Athens in Greece, in the early 19th century. If the museum ever returns the statues (as Greeks have been demanding them to do for years), and if the statues were then placed back on the Acropolis – then they would be “in situ.”
All this has been my way of introducing you to a story about a little statue that has been sitting in my home ever since my late wife, Sylvia, and I returned from a trip to Jamaica many years ago.
Here’s Buck’s story. One afternoon during our vacation on the island, we went to an Art Fair. I was particularly interested in wooden carvings. There was a long line of tables, end to end, with different carvers showing off their wares. As we walked along the tables, among the different carvers, I was dumbfounded because they were all carving the same statues! Different artists: same statues. The statues were of some local deities; none of whom I had any interest in taking back home – no matter what magic it could perform.
Sylvia and I were baffled as we strolled along the long row, eventually coming to the end. Then, lo and behold: the last carver was carving different statues – not necessarily of gods. Coming across his table filled with a wide variety of subjects was a breath of fresh air.
Of course, the first thing I asked him was why everyone else was carving the same things. His answer was simply that they thought that was what tourists wanted, and they were afraid to try anything else. I asked him why he was not afraid. He said he was afraid; nonetheless, he would be bored doing the same thing over and over – even if he made more money.
By now you can see where this story is going. It was among his wares, on the last table, that I saw the statue of the dog – which I immediately fell for. Sylvia, a dog lover, fell for it, too, and hence we bought it. I don’t recall the price, or if we haggled over it. But what I do remember – and why I am telling this story – is this. While talking with him and watching him at work, I noticed the way he was squinting. I asked him about this, and he said his eyes were not what they used to be, that he needed glasses but he couldn’t afford them.
At the time, I was in an early stage of permanently wearing glasses. Having gone through various stages of over-the-counter reading glasses during the previous decade or more, I was now wearing my first prescription glasses. I gave them to the carver to try on, and he said they were too strong. “Good,” I said. I told him I had several pair of different power reading glasses at home, which I had used before I got these. I’d be pleased to mail him those glasses, which perhaps could get him through the next decade or more. He gave me his address, and that’s when I found that his name – or, maybe, it was his nickname – was Buck.
“Would you mind if I name the dog Buck?” I asked – because I liked that name for the dog. He had no problem with that, and hence Buck it was, and Buck it always will be.
Not long after we got home, I mailed a box of glasses to Buck. Although I had my return address on the box (in case it got lost) I never heard from him. I didn’t expect to; yet occasionally I talk to my Buck and tell him that I hope the Buck whom he is named after, is still using a pair of the glasses I sent him. It would be comforting to know. My Buck agrees, I trust.
From the photo you can see that Buck sits at the foot of a staircase. Those stairs start in the front entrance of our home and go to the second floor. Buck not only stands on-guard, watching all who enter the house, but he also plays the following role. If I want to remind myself of something without having a paper and pencil handy, I just turn Buck around – say, on my way upstairs for the night. In the morning, coming down the stairs, I see that Buck is reminding me to do something. Although, I must confess, sometimes I can’t recall exactly what it was!
Finally, I live in Winnipeg, Canada. I know that’s far from the island of Jamaica, but here Buck has become a part of our life. All the family knows that if Buck is turned around – it means something! I therefore believe that it’s not stretching the terminology t-o-o much by calling this memoir: “Buck In Situ: A Dog Story.” To me, Buck is right where he belongs.
David R. Topper writes in Winnipeg, Canada. His work has appeared in Mono, Poetic Sun, Discretionary Love, Poetry Pacific,Academy of theHeart & Mind, Altered Reality Mag. and elsewhere.
His poem Seascape with Gulls: My Father’s Last Painting won first prize in the annual poetry contest of CommuterLit Mag – May 12, 2025.
