Features
Helping to Right a Historic Wrong: Aviva Silberman believes that Holocaust survivors deserve to live in dignity and comfort
By SHARON GELBACH
The statistics are grim: a quarter of Holocaust survivors in Israel and a third of those in the US are living in poverty. These now-elderly people, who experienced some of the worst traumas in modern times, are subsisting on so little they can’t afford both food and medicine, or dental treatment, or house repairs, or to replace a broken appliance. Many are childless; many are the last remnant of their extended families, with no support network to advocate for them in their twilight years.
According to attorney Aviva Silberman, founder of Aviv for Holocaust Survivors, an organization that helps survivors apply for special benefits, thousands of Holocaust survivors fail to take advantage of the compensation that’s legally coming to them. “They simply don’t know about the benefits and what they’re entitled to, what forms to fill out, how to fill them out, or where to submit them,” she said.
There are several reparation payment or allowance programs available to survivors living around the world; however, deciphering the fine print as to who is eligible for which payment, which forms need to be completed; and what supporting documents must be provided for each can be overwhelming.
Aviv for Holocaust Survivors was founded in 2007 with the goal of helping Holocaust survivors access the benefits available to them. In its 13 years of operation, with the help of five lawyers and hundreds of volunteers, Aviv has helped 65,000 survivors actualize their rights and access more than $1.2 million payments and allowances completely free of charge.
No Longer Reluctant
Silberman explains the roots of this rampant poverty: “Due to their wartime experiences, some survivors continued to suffer psychological and physical problems that hindered their ability to work. This pattern has also carried over to the next generation.”
In the past, many people opted not to accept money from Germany, irrespective of their financial situation, observes Silberman. “Today, however, survivors realize that they are not helping anyone by refusing the money, and that at their stage of life, they certainly deserve to enjoy a higher standard of living.”
In addition to not knowing how to go about accessing payments and reparations, Silberman says that survivors are often fearful that by applying for additional benefits they will lose what they already have. In reality, however, about half the survivors who are assisted by Aviv are, in fact, eligible for more than they are currently receiving. “We encourage survivors to inquire about their benefits. In many cases, what they were told several years ago about not being entitled, has changed.”
A case in point, and one that affects thousands of survivors globally, is the new law, from July 2019, recognizing 20 Romanian cities as being ghettos. The significance of the revised legislation cannot be overstated: survivors from Romania who previously were not eligible for any of the German “rentas” or pensions, are now eligible for various grants and monthly allowances.
Leah, a survivor from Ramnicu Sarat, Romania, had previously fallen between the cracks in terms of receiving any financial aid, due to various technical and bureaucratic reasons. With the help of Aviv’s attorney Yael Gertler, she was able to receive a lump sum of $2,800 as well as a monthly allowance of $1,100. “Finally, at the age of 89, I’m finally recognized as a Holocaust survivor!” Leah said excitedly. “For decades, Germany never acknowledged the suffering we endured in Romania. I’m gratified that I am still alive to see Germany taking responsibility for what they did to us!”
Daunting Red Tape
Holocaust survivors and their children are often daunted by the seemingly endless paperwork and complex bureaucracy associated with applying for compensation. Working for 13 years with a team of professional lawyers, Aviv for Holocaust Survivors is uniquely positioned to assist survivors receive what is coming to them, thereby improving their quality of life immeasurably.
Gila, an 84-year-old survivor from Bulgaria, suffers various ailments along with dementia. For many years, she received a $700 monthly reparations allowance. In view of her mother’s degenerating state, Gila’s daughter Ronit requested an increased stipend from the government, but was turned down because they said Gila did not meet the necessary criteria. It never occurred to Ronit to try again, until she spoke to Linda Levy, one of Aviv’s consultants, who investigated the case and discovered that Gila had spent the war years in the ghetto in Sophia. Familiar with the updated rights due Holocaust survivors, she applied to various agencies including the Israeli Treasury and the German government. The applications were approved, and Gila began to receive $2,000 monthly from the Israeli government, as well as a lump sum of $16,700 and another $90 monthly allowance from Germany. Thanks to the extra income, Ronit can now afford to give her mother the best care available including costly treatments to ease her health issues.
The Poor Partisan
Without doubt, it takes patience and tenacity to overcome bureaucratic hurdles. In cases where individuals would give up, Aviv’s professionals are armed with the knowledge and persistence necessary for a positive outcome. Avigdor is a survivor from Poland who lives in Kiryat Ata. After learning that the Polish government was distributing a monthly reparations payment of $110, he traveled to the Entitlement Center in Haifa. Aviv’s Attorney Adi Keselman realized that notwithstanding the allowance from Poland, Avigdor was also eligible to have his monthly survivor’s allowance doubled. In conversation with Avigdor, she learned that he had fought in the Polish countryside with the partisans, and so she applied for an additional monthly stipend of $700 for war veterans who fought against the Nazis. After much back and forth, necessitating several home visits on the part of Aviv’s volunteers, their efforts paid off. Today, at 94, Avigdor receives a sizeable monthly sum that allows him to live out his days in comfort and security.
In the War In Utero
One of the more unexpected criteria for eligibility is “one who was a fetus at the time their mother suffered persecution by the Nazis.” Henia Klatsch, a survivor from Haifa, was born just two months after the end of World War II. Her parents had survived the Holocaust by hiding together with their two children in the home of a Polish family. Henia grew up with parents and siblings who emerged from the war alive in body, but severely scarred emotionally. After a turbulent childhood, Henia married Aryeh, also a Holocaust survivor.
A chance visit to the Aviv Entitlement Center in Haifa proved to be life-changing for the Klatches. Attorney Liora Zamir informed Henia that she might be eligible for Holocaust reparations due to her having been an unborn baby while her mother suffered persecution, and thus began a protracted bureaucratic process that included procuring several hard-to-get documents. “I wanted to give up a hundred times over, but Liora never let me,” Henia shares, speaking with emotion. “She fought like a lioness on my behalf! It’s only thanks to her caring, and her professional, devoted service that my application was eventually approved.”
The couple, which had previously subsisted only on Aryeh’s reparations, received a substantial financial boost. “A stone has been lifted from my heart,” Henia said. “I never had a childhood, but no one acknowledged my suffering before. This allowance is helping us make ends meet, and now I can even give something to our grandchildren, something that had not been possible before.”
Poverty of Spirit
Often, the consequence of the severe trauma suffered during the war years is a lack of mental stability, which renders the survivor’s situation all the more tragic. Ari, 84, made Aliyah from France in 2010, alone and destitute. His childhood years had been spent in hiding, which enabled him to survive physically, but left deep emotional scars. Ari’s mental state and general situation deteriorated steadily, to the point where he was homeless. If not for some kind people who provided him with shelter at night, he would have literally slept out in the street. At one point, Ari’s cousin sent him to the Entitlement Center in Tel Aviv, operated in cooperation with the Jewish Federation of Los Angeles. Aviv’s attorney David Neuhoff was particularly moved by Aryeh’s predicament, and devoted himself wholeheartedly to his case. The outcome was better than anyone could have anticipated: Ari was placed in an assisted living facility in Kiryat Yam, and today, with a monthly allowance of $2,400, he is able to live in dignity and comfort.
Aviv for Holocaust Survivors works to raise public awareness of the rights of Holocaust survivors and to make that information freely accessible. The organization operates 18 Entitlement Centers, in collaboration with local municipalities and the Jewish Federation of Los Angeles, to assist survivors in actualizing their rights. Aviv’s lawyers accompany survivors throughout the process, providing all services completely free of charge.
For more information visit www.avivshoa.co.il
Holocaust Survivors Across the Globe – Compensation & Eligibility
Benefits from the Claims Conference
Article 2 Fund: Intended for survivors who spent time in the camps, ghettoes, in hiding, or who lived under a false identity, and who are not receiving a monthly health allowance (“renta“) from funds originating in Germany. Survivors recognized by the Claims Conference for this fund receive an allowance of €1539 ($1700), once every three months.
Hardship Fund: A one-time grant for €2556 ($2800). This fund is intended for survivors who: 1. do not receive a monthly health allowance from funds originating in Germany; 2. did not receive in the past a one-time grant for being forced to wear the yellow badge, for being forced to discontinue their education or had their liberty revoked; and 3. did not receive payment from the Holocaust Victim Compensation Fund (HVCF); and provided that they experienced at least one of the following persecutions: fled from Nazi occupation, wore the yellow badge, lived under curfew or were subject to limited freedoms. Even someone who was still in utero at the time when their mother suffered any of the persecutions mentioned above, may be eligible for this grant.
Note: Also eligible for this grant are former citizens of Tunisia who suffered various limitations under Vichy rule, and who subsequently suffered persecution under Nazi occupation between October 1940 and May 1943; and former citizens of Morocco and Algeria who suffered various limitations under Vichy rule between July 1940 and November 1942, including anyone who was in utero during the aforementioned period.
Child Survivor Fund: A one-time grant for €2,500 ($2780) for survivors born from Jan. 1, 1928 until the end of the persecutions in their location, and who were persecuted on the basis of being Jews in the camps or ghettoes, or who lived in hiding, or who assumed a false identity — for at least four months in areas under Nazi occupation, or 12 months in countries that were under German influence.
Note: Those who lived in cities only recently recognized as ghettoes are also eligible for this grant.
Kindertransport Fund: a one-time grant for €2,500 ($2780) — given from January 2019 — to survivors who, between Nov. 9, 1938 and Sept. 1, 1939, were under the age of 21 and were sent (or authorized to be sent), from Germany or countries that were occupied by or annexed to Germany (Austria and parts of Czechoslovakia), to England without their parents in order to be rescued from Nazi persecution.
Note: The Claims Conference operates various services for Holocaust survivors in different world countries. For more information on the services available in your area, please contact the Claims Conference at P.O. Box 1215, New York, NY 10113. Tel: (646) 536-9100. Email: info@claimscon.org
Benefits Available from Germany:
German Compensation Fund for Work in Ghetto (BADV): a one-time grant for €2,000 ($2780) from the German government, intended for those who were kept in an open or closed ghetto (from the list of ghettos recognized by Germany), which was either under German rule or in an area annexed by Germany or in an area under German influence, and who performed unforced labor. We recommend that survivors who have received this one-time grant but who did not apply for the monthly social allowance ZRBG for unforced labor performed in the ghetto, submit a claim for this allowance.
For more information or to submit forms please contact:
Main address:
Bundesamt für zentrale Dienste und offene Vermögensfragen
DGZ-Ring 12
13086 Berlin
Mailing address:
Bundesamt für zentrale Dienste und offene Vermögensfragen
11055 Berlin
Tel: +49 30 187030-0
Fax: +49 30 187030-1140
Email: poststelle@badv.bund.de
Social allowance for labor performed in ghetto (ZRBG): A social allowance from Germany based on various parameters, including age and time spent in a ghetto. Holocaust survivors may be eligible for this allowance on condition that they were kept in a closed or open ghetto under German rule or German annexation, or in an area under German influence, from the list of ghettos recognized by Germany and who performed unforced labor in the ghetto and received compensation for this labor (even a token compensation, and even if those funds were transferred to the Judenrat). In other words, if there was some degree of choice regarding the “if” and “how” of the labor, this amounts to unforced labor. Examples of this type of labor: kitchen jobs, cleaning jobs, administrative jobs, factory jobs, delivering packages, caring for children or the elderly, etc. (Those who worked under threat of violence or at gunpoint are considered to have engaged in forced labor, and are therefore not eligible for this allowance.)
Since this payment is actually a form of German national insurance, a precondition for eligibility for it is to meet the criteria of the minimum qualification period for this insurance. This period may be based on the criteria set by German national insurance, alternate insurance, or of the national insurance in countries that have a signed treaty with Germany.
We recommend that those who submit applications for this allowance include additional documents, such as confirmation of receipt of any other Holocaust-related compensatory funds, documents attesting to time spent in a ghetto, etc.
For more information or to submit forms please contact:
DRV DUSSELDORF
Address:
DRV RHEINLAND
Königsallee 71
40215 Düsseldorf
Tel:+49 211 937 0
Email: service-zentrum.duesseldorf@drv-rheinland.de
DRV BERLIN
Address:
DRV BUND
Ruhrstraße 2, 10709 Berlin
Tel: +49 30 8650
Fax:+49 30 865 27240
Email: drv@drv-bund.de
Compensation from France
Compensation for orphans from France: A one-time grant from the French government for about €31,000 ($34,500) or a lifetime monthly stipend for about €600 ($670). To be eligible for these funds: one of the survivor’s parents must have been expelled from France as a result of anti-Semitic persecution during Nazi occupation, and that parent must have died in the course of the expulsion or died within France as a consequence of persecution. The survivor must have been 21 or under at the time their parent was expelled. To submit requests for compensation from France, apply to your local French Embassy.
Compensation from Holland
The Dutch railway company provides Holocaust survivors/relatives who were transported by Dutch trains to a concentration camp with a one-time grant of €15,000 ($16,685) per survivor, and between €5,000 ($5,560) and €7,500 ($8300) in the event that the survivor has already passed away, and the payment will be transferred to the widow or orphans.
Note: Applications for this compensation can be submitted only until July 5, 2020.
See website for all information relating to compensation plans, including how to submit online applications: https://commissietegemoetkomingns.nl/en/faq
For telephone inquiries about the application process: 887926250(0)31+
For assistance with online applications, call the following organizations:
JMW +31(0)881652200
Stichting Pelita: +31(0)883305111
For additional information, email:
BOX
New Eligibility for Romanian Survivors
Few are aware that in July 2019, Holocaust survivors from Romania became newly eligible for compensation after Germany recognized 20 Romanian cities as ghettos (see list below). Consequently, thousands of survivors who spent time in ghettos in Romania and who are now living in various countries across the globe became newly eligible for live-changing benefits.
Aviv for Holocaust Survivors founder Attorney Aviva Silverman said that her organization assisted 3,013 Romanian survivors living in Israel, advising them regarding rights and benefits amounting to $17.6 million. “It’s vital that survivors all over the world are alerted to their rights and that they apply to the relevant agencies who can investigate their eligibility for additional compensation. The money involved can often be life-changing for these survivors.”
Romanian Cities Recognized as Ghettos: Jassi, Botosani, Targu Mures, Galati, Focasni, Teccuci, Roman, Piatra Neamt, Barlad, Vaslui, Alba Iulia, Constanta, Targu Neamt, Harlau, Buzau, Ramnicu Sarat, Stefanesti, Craiova, Pascani, Bacau
END BOX
This information was provided by the Aviv for Holocaust Survivors organization, devoted to providing professional, personal assistance by lawyers who specialize in survivors’ rights and who accompany the survivors until they receive the compensation due to them, at no charge to them.
www.avivshoa.co.il
Features
I Speak “Jew”
By MARK E. PAULL I grew up in Montreal. Born in 1956. Anglo by birth, sure. But that never quite fit. I don’t speak “Anglo” the way they mean it. My real language is Jew.
And I don’t mean Hebrew or Yiddish. I mean the language of reading the room before you enter it. The code-switching, shame-dodging, laugh-first-so-they-don’t-pounce dialect we pick up early. It’s a language built on side-eyes and timing and ten generations of tension.
I speak French—enough to make myself understood. Enough to charm a dinner table, crack a joke, get someone’s uncle to nod. I’m not fluent, but I’m fast. Doesn’t matter. In Quebec, language isn’t grammar—it’s inheritance. It’s who your grandfather cursed out in a hardware store.
To the Francophones, I’ll never be one of them. My accent betrays me before I say a word. I’m just an Anglo. And not even that, really. Because when the lens tightens, when they look closely, I’m just un Juif. Just a Jew.
And to the Anglos? Same thing. I can wear the suit, speak the Queen’s English, order the wine properly—still a Jew. Even in rooms where I “pass,” I don’t belong. I’m not invited in to be myself. I’m invited in to behave. To be safe. To not say the thing that makes the air stiff.
We’re the only people still called by our religion. No one says “Orthodox” for a Greek. No one says “Vatican” for an Italian. No one calls a Black man “Baptist” before they see his face. But “Jew”? That sticks. That’s the label. Before passport. Before language. Before hello.
I’ve mostly made peace with that. But there’s still this ache—knowing you can live your whole life in a place and never really be from there.
Let me tell you a story.
We had this block party once—the folding-table, paper-plate kind. Kids zipping by on scooters. Music low. Everyone asked to bring something from “your culture.”
The Greek guy brought lemon potatoes and lamb—felt like it came with a side of Byzantine history. The Italians brought two lasagnas—meat and veggie—with basil placed like confetti. The Vietnamese couple brought shrimp rolls that vanished before they hit the table. Even the German guy—built like a fridge—brought bratwurst and a six-pack with gothic lettering.
And then us.
My partner made Moroccan fish. Her grandmother’s recipe. Red with tomatoes, garlic, cumin. Studded with olives and preserved lemon. I brought a bottle of white wine. Dry. Crisp. From the Golan Heights. Not Manischewitz. Not even close.
We laid it out. Someone leaned over: “Moroccan? But I thought you were Jewish.”
We smiled. “We are.”
Then: “So… where’s the brisket? Isn’t Jewish wine supposed to be sweet?”
That’s when it hits you. No matter how long you’ve lived here, how many snowstorms you’ve shoveled through, you’re still explaining yourself. Still translating your presence.
Because they don’t know. They don’t know Jews came from everywhere. That “Jewish” isn’t one dish—it’s a whole map. That we had Jews in Morocco before there was even a France. That some of us grew up on kreplach, some on kefta. That some of our mothers sang in Yiddish, others in Arabic, and some in both—depending on who was knocking.
They don’t know. And worse—they don’t ask.
And that’s the part that gets you. Not the slurs. Not the graffiti. Not even the occasional muttered cliché. It’s the blankness. The shrug. The image they already have of you that’s built out of dreidels and sitcoms.
“Jewish” as nostalgic. As novelty. Something they saw once on a bagel.
Sometimes, when those questions come, I float. One version of me walks out. Another turns into a mouse. One turns into a Frisbee. Just gone. Not mad. Just tired.
Because being a Jew isn’t cute. It’s not nostalgic.
It’s ancient.
Before Montreal.
Before France.
Before Poland. Before Spain.
Before pogroms.
Before ghettos.
Before Hitler.
Before even the word Europe.
We were there.
Go back to the 5th century. 2nd century.
Go back to Jesus—our kid, by the way.
Go further—Babylon. Persia.
Keep going—Temple. Exile. Wandering.
And still, after all that, I’m at a table in Quebec explaining why our fish has cumin in it.
It’s almost funny. If it didn’t wear you down a little.
I’m not looking for pity. This isn’t a complaint.
I’m proud. I know what I carry. I walk into any room with five thousand years behind me. I come from people who kept the lights on through every kind of darkness—and laughed through it, too.
But sometimes, I just wish I didn’t have to explain so much.
All I want is to put down my dish…
…and hear someone say:
“That smells amazing. Tell me the story.”
That’s all.
Mark E. Paull, C.A.C. is a Certified ADHD Coach – IPHM, CMA, IIC&M, CPD Certified
Writer | Lived-Experience Advocate | Type 1 Diabetic since 1967
He has been published in:
The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Folklife Magazine, Times of Israel, CHADD’s Attention Magazine, The Good Men Project
Features
At 104, Besse Gurevich last original resident of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence
By MYRON LOVE At 104, Besse Gurevich is the last of the original residents of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence. She may also be the oldest member of our Jewish community.
Although her vision and her hearing have diminished considerably, her mind and memory are still intact. A few weeks back, this writer sat down with her in her suite as she recalled a life filled with highs and lows and her many contributions to her community, both in Winnipeg and Fort William before that.
The daughter of Jack and Rebecca Avit, her life’s journey began in 1921 in a home on Carlton Street near Ellice Avenue, near her father’s furniture store. He later operated a cap factory.
When she was ten, the family – she had two brothers and a sister – moved to Manitoba Avenue in the old North End. “My father had put a deposit down on a house on Scotia,” she recalls. “But my parents didn’t feel that the neighbourhood was Jewish enough.”
Her schooling included Peretz School and, like so many of her generation, St. John’s Tech (as it was known back then.) “I was actually supposed to be going to Isaac Newton for high school,” she says. We were living on the wrong side of the tracks for St. John’s. After one day at Isaac Newton, I found a way to transfer to St. John’s.”
In 1940, 19-year-old Bessie Avit married Jack Gurevich, a young man from Fort William. The wedding was marred though, by the sudden, untimely passing of her father.
Following the wedding, Besse moved with her new husband to Fort William where Jack Gurevich worked in retail clothing sales. “We lived in Fort William for 20 years,” she says. “Our three children (Judy, Richard and Howard) were born there.”
She recalls that there were about 200 Jewish families – including her sister and one of her brothers for some years – in town, during the time she lived there. “We were very well known in the community,” she recalls. “I was involved in everything.”
Her community activism continued after the family’s return to her home town. While Jack went to work as a salesman for Western Glove Works, Besse became an indefatigable community volunteer. At one time or another, she served as vice-president of ORT, Hadassah and National Council of Jewish Women in Winnipeg. She was also a long time B’nai Brith member.
In the business world, the highlight of her career was the building of Linden Woods. “I became involved in real estate development for a time,” she recalls. “I was hired by Genstar to develop Linden Woods. The company estimated that it would take about 20 years to complete. I got it done in two.”
She also taught hair dressing for a while. “I worked with many young Jewish brides,” she says.
Recent years have not been kind to Besse Gurevich. Her beloved husband, Jack, died in 2016 – after almost 65 years of marriage. Older son, Richard, passed away in Vancouver in 2018 and, most recently –six months ago – younger son, Howard, followed. She notes that there were 200 mourners at Howard’s funeral.
(Howard Gurevich was in marketing for many years before turning his talents to the art world. In recent years, he was best known for Gurevich Fine Art in the Exchange District and his support of local artists.)
Besse Gurevich celebrated her 100th birthday – which took place at the height of the Covid shutdown – quietly.
While she used to enjoy reading. she is unable to do so any more. She can still listen to television.
And while she has few family members to visit her any more, she does have a group of friends interesting enough from the local theatre scene. For many years, she was a close friend of the late Doreen Brownstone, one of the leading figures in theatre in Winnipeg for more than half a century. Besse became part of the group that would visit Doreen every week and, since Doreen passed on three years ago, the members of the group have continued to visit Besse on a weekly basis.
Features
Winnipeg author’s first novel gripping tale of romance, action and intrigue, set in 15th century Spain and Morocco
By MYRON LOVE “The Chronos of Andalucia”, a novel just released by first-time author Merom Toledano, is a historical romance set in late 15th century Spain and Morocco, filled with passion, action, intrigue, unexpected twists and turns – and, of course, with the requirement of any medieval story – a quest.
The easy-to-read, 190 page book follows the adventures of Catalina, a young woman living by her wits on the streets of Granada in the year 1487, (just after the Christian armies of Ferdinand and Isabella had recaptured all of Spain from the Moors) – while trying to evade the agents of the Inquisition, who had murdered her Jewish mother and Christian father 10 years earlier. She was left with an insatiable desire to learn about astronomy, along with a mysterious map and an astrolabe (an instrument formerly used to make astronomical measurements) – the importance of which will only be unveiled if she can get to the city of Tangier in Morocco.
Early on, there is a reference to Abraham Zacuto, a prominent Spanish rabbi famed for his knowledge of astronomy and astrology.
The action begins when she has a casual interaction with a former Spanish soldier, Diego. When the forces of the Inquisition approach, she flees with the soldier – who is also her love interest – and who helps her to escape. They turn for help to a childhood friend of Catalina’s – Roberta, a nun, who helps them on their perilous journey to Tangier – a journey that includes being captured by pirates, surviving a shipwreck, being separated for a long period of time and, of course, finding each other again and realizing the success of their joint quest.
In his writing, the author paints vivid word pictures of the different characters and beautifully invokes the colour, sights, sounds and scents of the time and the places.
What I found truly remarkable about the writing of “The Chronos of Andalucia” is that English is not Merom Toledano’s first language. The Israeli-born author – he grew up near Haifa – came to Winnipeg with his young family just eight years ago.
“I have had this book in mind for several years now,” says the satellite engineer whose working career takes him to many different parts of the world.
He notes that he has always felt a connection to Spain, Spanish music and literature – a reflection of his family’s modern origins in that country. His great-grandparents, he relates, lived in Toledo – hence the family name, Toledano. His parents lived in Meknes in Morocco while his father attended university in Tangier before making aliyah.
Toledano just published “The Chronos of Andalucia” in April on Amazon. He reports that the book – which is available here at McNally Robinson – has been selling well –close to 100 copies – with orders coming from a bookstore chain in England, a bookstore in Denmark, and one in Italy.
“I have had between 30 and 40 positive reviews so far,” he reports.
Toledano adds that he envisages “The Chronos of Andalucia” to be the first in a series – a la the writer Danielle Steele. He is already working on a sequel – which is hinted at the end of “The Chronos” and, he reports, he is establishing his own independent publishing operation.