My First Day In Amiens

t was an ordinary weekday in August. I had registered at the medical school in the morning. Walked around downtown a little (I was a powerful walker in those days).

I walked to the synagogue, not knowing if I would find anyone From the history in Wikipedia, the long tradition of the synagogue of Amiens is immortalized for all time.

I visited the second synagogue building; seems the Germans and their collaborators had pretty much destroyed both the first building and the Jews who worshiped there in WWII. Now there is the third building, a funny little parallelipiped designed by a Russian architect.

On the day I visited the synagogue, which had been built in an era of postwar optimism just before I was born (1951) there were exactly three men in prayer.

One was the President of the synagogue, M. Levy, a retired merchant. He apologized to me that they were only three, not the quorum of ten required by the traditional laws/ I told them I was glad to find anyone, knowing just a little about how hard it had been for Jewish communities to survive in the World War.

He told me it is not as much easier as one would think. Since he was publicly known as the president of the Jewish Community, he received death threats about once a week.

One was the owner of the largest and busiest hotel in town, just across from the train station. He immediately agreed to let me stay with him at a discounted rate for a few days while I found an apartment; I went on to do exactly that.

The third man, built short and squat with marvelously curly gray hair that they called a Jewish afro in those days, ran a fairly large clothing store for the city. He was known as the man who had brought Levi Jeans to Amiens.

A couple weeks later he showed up at my apartment on the rue Leon Blum to suggest he pay rent and agreed upon expenses to be in return for me letting him be by “benefactor and boyfriend. ” When I seemed surprised, he reassured me this was simply his way of furthering the art and science of medicine in both France and America.

I reminded him I had already met his (hard at work ) wife in his clothing store and did not wish to help him betray her.

He smiled and reassured me that he had done this sort of thing before, that she knew his “taste in investments,” and that He had a feeling that I would be someone of whom he would be “proud” someday.”

He could not believe I was actively declining his plan. He reminded me that morality did not pay the bills.

He was so resistant I escorted him down the stairs outside the front door and out to the street.