30 January 1939

Father and I have been united once again! I am counting my lucky stars today.

Father met me right when I arrived in Spain; he looked haggard and so much older than I remember him looking. The combination of years of fighting with the stress of insecurity has taken its toll on my Dad. When I was in transit the Nationalists were surrounding Barcelona and I am lucky that Father had the day off! So many innocent lives have been snuffed out, but right now I am just so grateful that he is here. 

Father told me a long and treacherous tale of survival; he has been fighting a war in vain for so many years that his eyes no longer possess the hope of the dreaming man I once knew him to be. He is scared of the leader of the Nationalists, Francisco Franco. He sees in him the same motives as the evil men who seem to be taking over Europe now, and that worries him. I can only hope that he is wrong. 

During the night I hear Father crying out, and screaming orders to soldiers that I know are intruding his nightmares. I hear him yelling words that I cannot make out, but last night I distinctly heard the words, "No pasarán".  That is why I have made the decision that we are going to leave this place; I can't let him go back. He tells me that he does not know how he is still alive, that all statistics say he should be dead, being a member of the Republicans. He tells me of the Red Terror that broke out in Madrid, and of the strength and resistance the city displayed over those months. 

When I arrived in England all those years ago, Mr. Keynes (who must be quite an old man by now) provided me with some contacts that I might have use of. One of those contacts was Mr. Leon Blum. I have been in touch with him and he has agreed to protect Father and I for some time, until all of this dies down . . . if it ever does. Mr. Blum and I seem to share similar opinions, and I only hope that Father and I find refuge in the land of the French. If nothing else there will be good pastry. Do not expect to hear from me again, as I do not think I can afford to give away our exact location, to be on the safe side. From now on I am a leader in my family; I am protecting my Father and have been sending home Majahem money monthly. Perhaps one day he will join us in France. Thank God Auntie Mabel was so gracious in her death . . . without her, who would I be?

So long for now, faithful readers. 

26 January 1939

I have received news that Father is fighting in the Spanish Civil war. I knew he was here somewhere, but he and I haven’t spoken for ages and I figured wherever he would be would not be safe. I have been trying to contact him through the military base for years now, but last week I heard news. I am not sure how I should feel . . . I am going to travel to Spain to meet up with him. Despite the non-intervention treaty, Father has ended up supporting the Republicans. I am excited but extremely nervous to see him after all this time; I haven’t seen him or Mother since I was 14 years old.

I embark tomorrow!

5 October 1938

It is not easy for me to admit this, but I will. My life is in shambles.

Again I apologize for the time it has been since I last wrote; my life has been such a whirlwind of so many events that I haven’t found the time to record these things. To start off, you should know that Tony and I are no longer together. After his brother’s death in Germany, he and I fled to Austria, and things didn’t turn out to be much better there. He would steal away into the night at least three times a week, and when I found out what he was up to I had no choice but to leave him. I mean, I know that he was the head of the mafia in Naples, but I thought he was a changed man. Turns out, he wasn’t.

So, I left once more, leaving mean old Toothless Tony to fend for himself in a life of drugs and war. I was not sure where I would go, all I knew was that I had to get away, and fast. I ended up fleeing to Czechoslovakia assuming no one would find me there. I needed an escape. For so long now I feel like I have been running from wherever I am, but I think that is just how my life is going to be. In an attempt to stop this, I settled down a bit and got myself a job at a local shop, seeing as Auntie Mabel's money is long gone from my pocket.

A little while after I arrived in the country, I received a phone call. It was from a man by the name of Mr. Neville Chamberlain. At the time he was working in England as counsellor of the exchequer; he told me he would soon be Prime Minister. Wondering why he was calling me, he told me that he had heard of my adventures through Europe and had read my blogs, and wanted to tell me that he was my father’s long lost brother. Under any normal circumstances I would have rolled on the floor laughing, but given the state of things, I knew he was right. Besides, the moustache speaks for itself.

I have been keeping up regular conversation with Neville for quite some time now, but things have become quite terse in recent months. Initially I agreed with his views on having to stop Hitler and his rise to power, because war would be the worst thing for this world. However, Neville seems to think that his is the only opinion that matters, and a few days ago he agreed to a shameful thing; a few days ago the Munich Agreement was formulated. Now, the country that I have been living in for years has succumbed to the powers of the Nazis, and Sudetenland is slave to their powers as well. Here at home people are enraged; we had no participation in this “agreement”. I don’t regard it as an agreement, I see it as Hitler’s gradual ascension to ultimate evil, and it saddens me that Czechoslovakia, once a great country, has begun to fall as well.

I wonder where Tony is now . . . Austria is one with Germany now, thanks to the Anschluss. I try not to think about it.

28 July 1934

A wise man once said that anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

My life is living up to that statement.  

Tony was so distressed after the murder of his brother that he and I decided to leave Germany as quickly as we could and head to Austria. I knew of a distant relative that I had there, his name was Engelbert Dollfuss, and he is now dead.

Austria was never on the plans for me, because I already knew where Engelbert fell on my family tree and didn’t have much interest in spending weeks there. Alas, with the death of poor Tony’s dear brother it was the first place I thought of that we could really get away quickly and be guaranteed somewhere to stay. However, this was probably the worst choice I have ever made. We got here a few days ago to find out that Engelbert had been assassinated by a group of Nazis of Regiment 89. It is bad enough that the Nazis seem to follow me everywhere that I go, but back home in Italy there have been uprisings because of Engelbert’s death . . . we received news the other day that our good friend Arturo was killed in one of these uprisings. We are truly worried, for our friends, for our family, and for the country that I have come to call home. We are worried for the world. 

10 July 1934

 I apologize for the years that it has been since I last wrote to you, my faithful followers. After meeting the mafia in Italy, I meant to leave as soon as possible; I just didn’t feel comfortable. But then, Toothless Tony asked me if I perhaps wanted to join him for pizza. I agreed, and we are now happily married. At first I felt guilty that I spent the rest of Auntie Mabel’s money on my wedding to one of the most infamous gangsters in Naples, but then I remembered that she worked with Al Capone, and didn’t feel so bad. And I did wear her pearls on the day.

Long story short, Tony and I spent some time living in Italy together. We didn’t have enough money to honeymoon, and spent a while working together underground to provide ourselves with funds enough for one. So, last week we embarked to Nazi Germany for our long awaited, much deserved retreat!

It has been a few years since I was last in Germany, and in those days they called it the Weimar Republic. Things are much different now. Tony and I didn’t pick a very good time to come here! The other night Tony went to visit his brother, who was renting a room in the house of a member of the Sturmabteilung . . . Poor Tony, when he got there he found both the tenant and his brother lying assassinated on the floor. If he had gotten there an hour earlier, he could have been lying there with them! It was just a nightmare, the whole thing. People are calling it the “Night of the Long Knives” now. On the streets, everywhere you turn there is propaganda for the Nazis; there is no escape now. That uncertain feeling I had when first encountering Hitler a few years ago is a definite feeling of dread now. I feel such sorrow for all the Jewish population here; God knows what will happen to them now. One of Majahem’s great friends is Jewish, and he was thinking about coming to Germany a while ago to study art . . . I am so thankful now that Majahem convinced him to stay home. It takes a strong will to live here now and resist the propaganda that the Nazis are trying to drill into everyone’s minds. I really wish that we had gone to Greece instead.

6 December 1930

It has been quite a while! I ended up spending more time in the Soviet Union than I had originally planned (my first thoughts were to get out of there as quickly as possible!).

Nikolai Bukharin ended up being Father’s cousin. I have no idea how that man at the post office could have figured it out, but he somehow made the connection. I stayed with Nikolai for weeks, and got to know him quite well. He received quite a lot of attention from a girl named Anna while I was there . . . I am interested to see if that develops into anything!

I am now in Italy, the boot of wonder that I have always wanted to explore. Unfortunately I am on a mission, and won’t be able to do much exploring, but nonetheless I am here! On the streets here, the gossip is all about a man by the name of Benito Mussolini; people are all talk about “IL DUCE”. In fact, people really seem to like him. We all know that it is a terrible time in the world right now; people everywhere are suffering because of the economy. However, the Italians don’t seem to have it as bad! The economy here is different, in that it is mixed . . . the there are elements of both command economies that I have seen as well as supply and demand, and it seems to be beneficial. One of the things that Mussolini has promised is financial security, and people love it! He gives a great many speeches that attract everyone.

On another note . . . I discovered another relation. It came about in a strange way. I was surrounded by a huge crowd at one of Mussolini’s speeches, and the hordes of people were overwhelming me so I snuck out the back to get some air. When I got to the back of the pack I saw a couple of men wearing black, standing by a couple of trees, smoking cigars and looking mysterious. Naturally, I investigated. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have, but it didn’t turn out too badly. They made me promise that I would not divulge any details on this blog, but to out a long story short there is some mafia blood recorded on my family tree now, and Toothless Tony is the first cousin I have discovered. These guys were distressed, because Mussolini has been trying to squelch them out for some time now. They’ve needed counseling, but I didn’t know what comforting words I could provide for them, so I left as soon as I could. 

30 October 1930

I heaved a HUGE sigh of relief today when I determined once and for all that I am in NO WAY related to Joseph Stalin. The pattern of moustaches in my family was beginning to worry me, and when I saw this man my first impression was that he was definitely a distant Squilm family member. Alas, he is not, and I can once again breathe.

I am here in the Soviet Union, and I don’t have much time to write, for I have an appointment arranged with one Nikolai Bukharin within a half hour. A man I met at the post office is his cousin, and claimed that he remembered the Squilm family name for some reason . . . personally I think that this man has gone off his rocker a bit, but the meeting has been arranged so I may as well speak to Bukharin. It will be a very interesting rendezvous for many reasons. Less than a year ago, Mr. Bukharin was expelled from the Politburo by Stalin; I am intrigued to hear what he has to say about the powerful leader. The other day, I happened to see a caravan full of kulaks that were being relocated. I seized the opportunity to jump onto the caravan and speak to them, to find out more about what is going on right now. They were all weeping for the lifestyle that had been torn away from them and dreading the lives they would now be forced to lead. They could see I was confused, and proceeded to explain that Stalin wants to transform Russia’s economic base from agriculture to industry, but still wanted to be raking in money while this happened. I find it hard to believe that he doesn’t so much as regard the people he is mindlessly destroying by doing this.

Europe has been a scary place. There are so many angry people who want revenge, who want security, who want to live again. So much for my relaxing holiday plans. 

15 September 1930

The past few weeks have been the most interesting weeks of my life so far. I am now in the Weimar Republic; I left to come here on August 18^th, after spending a couple of short weeks with the great Mr. John Keynes. He left me his address, and told me to mail him when I return home to America when I have completed my task and become a seasoned traveler!

Germany is not at all what I thought it was going to be. In the States, I had heard rumblings of the changes happening over here after the war. The “Years of Crisis” were well documented in the newspapers, and I had seen pictures of men carrying their paychecks in wheelbarrows. I was expecting the absolute worst . . . but when I arrived off the train, I saw a different Germany than I had pictured! There has been a lot of change. The buildings are largely very state-of-the-art, and the music I am hearing is so different from anything I have ever heard. It is strange, but I see a little piece of home here in Germany. I’ve been talking to a lot of people, and generally this “cultural revival” is appreciated, but some of the older folk I’ve managed to understand (I don’t speak very good German) have had nothing but complaints about Germany losing her traditional values . . . all I can think is that this must be better than it was after the war.

However, things seem to be taking a turn for the worse once again. Yesterday, there was an election in Germany. A group called the Nazis are said to have gotten more than 6,000,000 votes . . . I am not sure how I feel about it, but generally people are happy that they are now the largest party in Germany. I heard their leader, Adolph Hitler, speak a couple of weeks ago, and he was admittedly enrapturing. There is just something unsettling about the way he speaks to Germans like they are the only people on the planet; the other day on the radio I heard him say that “The struggle for world domination will be fought entirely between us, between Germans and Jews.  All else is facade and illusion.  Behind England stands Israel, and behind France, and behind the United States.  Even when we have driven the Jew out of Germany, he remains our world enemy.” This disturbed me, right down to my very core, and what disturbed me more is that people are listening to him say these things, every day.

Equally disturbing is the fact that I discovered I am distantly related to Hitler. We are connecting by a woman named Anna Maria Goeschl. She died in 1854 but after much research I stumbled upon the startling fact that she is my great-great-great aunt thrice removed; she was Adolph Hitler’s great-grandmother. It provides little comfort, the distance of our relation.

On the bright side, my family tree has now officially begun. 

12 August 1930

I arrived in England a few days ago, after a long and nauseating haul across the Atlantic Ocean. When we pulled into the harbor in Portsmouth I had just thrown up over the side of the ship for the twelfth time that week, and I must say that I had never felt more relieved in my lifetime! Every time a wave would come crashing over the side of the boat during the journey my mind would flash to the many newspaper articles that father used to read to me a long time ago, about the Titanic sinking. He kept all those articles thinking that Majahem and I would benefit from the knowledge of the disaster, but it did not prepare me very well for the boat ride over here!

I plan to stay here for a few weeks. Currently I am in London, staying with a kind man by the name of John. I am having trouble starting my family tree. I was hoping that on the way over I would have discovered a distant family member that serve as a starting point for this seemingly impossible project; alas, no such luck. Anyways, Mr. Keynes is putting me up in his small apartment for a while, as I figure out my travel plans. He is an extraordinary man. Before I came to England, I was under the impression that I would step off the boat and feel . . . uplifted. That’s not to say that I expected to be swept off my feet by welcome and good cheer, but I suppose I was praying for something better than Michigan. However, I was greeted by a sight that was all too familiar; men with the same grim looks etched on their faces as the men in Michigan. Worried looking women cradling hungry screaming babies . . . if I didn’t have such seasickness, I would have had half a mind to turn right back around and get on the boat again. Mr. Keynes has explained so much to me; just last night we sat in his study (which was littered with various books and papers), drank tea and spoke about England’s situation. I will not lie, at first I judged this man to be a raving lunatic. “We must spend our money!” he said to me, “Saving pennies will be the ruin of the working man!” Well, I was about to make some excuse to go to bed at an early hour, when everything he was saying began to make sense. So, we delved into deeper issues about the unemployment issue in England, and I found out just how interesting a man he really is. He told me a lot about the book he is writing (which explains the crumpled papers on the floor), “General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money”. He hopes one day to speak on the radio, to spread his message throughout England, for he thinks that this is the only way out of the slump. I would tend to agree with him!

Mr. Keynes suggested that I begin my hunt for family in Germany. He said that my blond hair and blue eyes might indicate that I have German roots, though Father and Mother never spoke of them. I intend to take his advice, and make sure that I buy and extra packet of peanuts for the journey, to do my bit for England's economy!

30 July 1930

© Majahem Squilm

Time to depart! This morning I woke up to the sound of squawking chickens and the smell of burning oatmeal on the stove. My brother, Majahem, has never been good at the daily making of the oatmeal . . . I forgive him, though, for all he has done for us. After Mom ran away with the circus and Dad went away to fight, it has been hard to make a living. I myself found a safe haven in the ladies at the Chesapeake-Potomac Telephone Company. I am one of them now; I call myself a "flapper". It will be hard to depart on my own, without them . . . my dress won't feel quite as silky, my hair-bun will feel just a bit too tight. Majahem has been finding work on the streets. He has wonderful talent as a painter, but unfortunately because of the recent shortage of money in these parts, he hasn't been selling much. But I think that he's just wonderful, so these hard times won't last long for us. While I'm away he will be working even more than usual. 

 I depart today at 3:00pm. Thank God the ship will have wifi so that I can blog my feelings (gratuitous historical anachronism here). I am clinging onto my boat ticket like I am holding onto my ticket to freedom, and I hope this becomes true. I am truly excited, and am carrying an old pearl necklace that was given to me by Aunt Mabel, so that she will be with me throughout this trip.

The Start of an Odyssey

Today is the day I turn my life around. For years I have felt ... really sad ... because of the Depression here in Michigan. It isn't easy, being a student in these times. If I have to eat beans and toast for one more breakfast, lunch or dinner, I think I might set fire to my apartment building. Anyways.

A word about good ol' Auntie Mabel. She was a wonderful woman; she enjoyed knitting by the fireplace, adopted stray kittens and baked deliciously chewy cookies on a regular basis. I suppose it did come as a bit of a shock to me when she told me, in her last hours, that she was on a first-name basis with Al Capone and had been making money off of illegal alcohol sales since Prohibition came into effect. I never did pick her out as a gangster, but she was still such a cute and loving little old lady. It wasn't her fault that she mixed up her daily dose of cough medicine with the "Soda Pop Moon" she was meant to have delivered to another unsuspecting victim. Poor old Auntie Mabel. That was one phone call I will never forget.

Mabel left me everything she had, including 32 cats which are now effectively stinking up my small apartment. But she left me more than just her money...with that she bestowed on me a passport to see the world, to find out who I really am, just as Mabel wanted. And so, dear readers, this journal is intended to be an inspiration to you all, in these distressing times.