Comments on: Is the boy dead yet? http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/2010/04/18/is-the-boy-dead-yet/ History of World War Two Told Through Letters Sun, 28 Apr 2013 03:30:41 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.com/ By: Stephanie http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/2010/04/18/is-the-boy-dead-yet/#comment-17 Tue, 04 May 2010 12:56:52 +0000 http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/?p=42#comment-17 Hey girlie!
This is great and really amazing that you’re able to use your family’s history for such a project. Keep up the good work :)

]]> By: Paola Marazzi http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/2010/04/18/is-the-boy-dead-yet/#comment-15 Sat, 24 Apr 2010 10:16:59 +0000 http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/?p=42#comment-15 Dear Molly you are definitely a special girl!!
It’s wonderful that you are doing this blog! It’s so touching and fun and it leaves a deep mark on me!
Reading this I feel even more attached to you and your family. That’s great.
Love to all of you (especially to aunt Cookie!!)
Paola [and Silvia,who helped me with the language :) ]

]]> By: Micaela http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/2010/04/18/is-the-boy-dead-yet/#comment-14 Fri, 23 Apr 2010 14:38:58 +0000 http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/?p=42#comment-14 Oh my God, Molly! This is so moving… I have known Alex and I am so happy to know him better through your lovely blog. I love it and sure I will be one of your readers!
Lots of love, Micaela

]]> By: Jerry http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/2010/04/18/is-the-boy-dead-yet/#comment-12 Mon, 19 Apr 2010 13:44:28 +0000 http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/?p=42#comment-12 how wonderful. It gives a great sense of this era and the real lives of people in Brooklyn. Thanks,
Jerry

]]> By: Adrienne http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/2010/04/18/is-the-boy-dead-yet/#comment-11 Mon, 19 Apr 2010 11:01:37 +0000 http://bkinloveandwar.wordpress.com/?p=42#comment-11 Always hungry and interested in eating, Uncle Eugene and my father did head for great grandma’s home in the country where they could eat chicken paprikash, hot fish soup and goulash, which were not available at home in the city. En route, in prison, they met those communist men who spoke Czech, but no Hungarian. The boys communicated with them by singing that universal song. The men who shared their bread with the two Hungarian boys, were executed before my father’s 7 year old eyes. I think this experience is one of the fundamental reasons my father always worked for peace, except when he fought the Nazis in WWII, a war he felt was justified.

I think always being hungry as a youth is also what turned my father into a great cook, as Molly noted above. And although he may have jokingly called some of the females in the house “woman,” trying to sound like a Hungarian Magyar mustashioed patriarch, he was probably the one who had cooked the meal.

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