In 1976 (our bicentennial year, 40 years ago) I was commissioned to write a poem in honor of that occasion. The title had to be about FREEDOM. I immediately set out to visit an older man who lived in our neighborhood (he was 75 then) to talk to him about the fact that he had survived the concentration campus. I talked to him several times and his story broke my heart. I wrote the following poem which, I am proud to say, was widely circulated and run.

ON LOSING FREEDOM….

Freedom can be an elusive thing;
These days it takes on a hollow ring;
Ask my friend, Jacob; he’s 75
He’s just lucky, he says, to be alive
Ask him about freedom; he ought to know;
He survived the camps; his voice is low;
When police took my friends, I refused to see;
Until one night, they came for me.

Dedicated to the late Elie Wiesel, who suffered the horror and indignity of the camps and yet lived to chronicle the story of man’s inhumanity to man, which sadly continues to this very day. He is my hero.

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