Veteran's Day Challah

Forgive me gentle readers, I have sinned - it has been almost a week since my last blog post. I have many legitimate excuses but none of which I will bore you with.

I am off work today for Veteran's Day and in honor of all the Veterans in my family I am making a Challah from scratch. You may think that is an odd choice for Veteran's day but to me it is not since it was a staple for the Veteran's in my family.

One of my favorite Veteran stories is one that my Kitty-Mom tells about her Father. Grandpa Jamison was a pilot in the Army Air Corps - before the Air Force was created that is where all the pilots were. When the Air Force was established he choose to stay in the Army. He was a Lieutenant Colonel. One day, during WWII time, he was traveling with his family and his Lieutenant's family from somewhere in the North to Fort Bragg and at a point on the train ride, I guess they were passing the Mason/Dixon line or something, the conductor came by to tell him that the Lietenant and his family had to move to the back of the last train car because they were black- except the last train car was then called the "colored car". Grandpa Jamison threw a fit and basically said if he is moving then my family is moving back there too. In the end, the conductor had them all stay put.

Today I am thinking about my Great-Uncle Sidney, who before the war, had received the good news that he had been drafted to play baseball for the Baltimore Orioles. My Uncle Sydney was one of 7 children. The Steinberg children, all of whom were first generation Americans, were Pauline, Miriam, Ruth, Sherman, Joel, Sydney and my Grandfather Bernard (who I am named after). Bernard was the oldest. All the boys went to pharmacy school for pre-med but due to the Jewish quotas enforced at that time none of them were able to go to medical school and all of them became pharmacists. When my Uncle Sydney was drafted into WWII he was a very young man in his early 20's. I believe he got drafted into the war within days of getting the news about playing for the Orioles. Sadly my Great Uncle never got to play baseball. Sydney was wounded during the Battle of the Bulge and became paralyzed from the waist down. He returned to Baltimore and lived with his father the rest of his life.

My Grandfather Bernard bought a set of parallel bars that would fold up and fit in his truck and every Sunday for a few years after the injury he would take Sydney to the park and have him practice using his legs but he never regained the use of them. I remember visiting Sydney and my Zadie (my Great Grand Father) in the house they lived in which was right across from Pimlico. He loved taking pictures of us and making us smile.

Sadly, Sydney never married, never played ball and lived his entire life with his Father. I struggle to find a "silver lining" in my Great Uncle's story, something that could take the sting away. I have decided it is this: Sydney lived a long life and passed away only a few years ago. He lived to see the end of the Holocaust, the forming of the State of Israel, and no doubt he heard many moving liberation stories. He was also surrounded by a large family that was devoted to him. It is my hope that he knew he was a hero. I think about him often but today I hold him very close to my heart.