B is for Budapest: April 2014 A to Z Challenge

Blogging From A to Z
April 2014 Challenge
http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com

B is for Budapest, capital of Hungary.  With approximately two million inhabitants, today it's a thriving metropolis. But, it didn't begin that way. Budapest was originally settled by the Eravasci, a Celtic tribe, around 40 AD. They named the city "Ak-ink", which the Romans renamed, "Aquincum" after its conquest.

Remains of the ancient city of Aquincum can be seen today in Budapest.

The Ruins of the Ancient City of Aquincum, modern day Budapest.

(Personally, I find this to be pretty amazing and would love to tour Europe one day just to see all the cool places I write about.)

Map of Europe
Hungary in Red

There is a ton of fascinating history about Budapest but I want to tell you about a man who made a difference while residing there during WWII. Before I do, here are some links to learn more about the history of Budapest.

Budapest - The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum Site

Siege of Budapest 1944 - Wikipedia

Horrors of the Occupations: Nazis in Budapest and the Arrow Cross Army (Warning: Graphic photos.)

Okay, on to the star of the show, Mr.Giorgio Perlasca.  Giorgio Perlasca was an Italian businessman working in Budapest when all hell broke loose in 1943.

"When Mussolini fell in July 1943, all Italians in Hungary were requested to return home. Perlasca refused to go to a German-ruled Italian puppet state. As Perlasca said: "I was neither a fascist nor an anti-fascist, but I was anti-Nazi." Perlasca was interned; however, on October 13, 1944, he was able to talk his way out of the hotel where he was being held." (Quote from the Jewish Virtual Library Website)

This is where it gets interesting.  Let's look at that last sentence one more time: " Perlasca was interned; however, on October 13, 1944, he was able to talk his way out of the hotel where he was being held."

I like this guy already but it gets really wild when he declares himself the Spanish Ambassador to Hungary.  I know, I know, I keep saying, "WTF?" too.  Stay with me, okay?  K.

Perlasca was appalled at the way Hungarian Jews were being treated.  In the beginning, he took it upon himself to save a couple here and there.  Then he saved families. Then groups of people.  He was even able to pull hundreds of Jews off of a Nazi deportation train!  This man had huge balls and was sharp as a razor. He could think on his feet and never got rattled.  He bribed high-ranking Nazis in order to save more lives.  During one "negotiation", the greedy Nazi he was trying to bribe held a knife to his throat whilst on a fourth floor balcony.  Perlasca never missed a beat and offered the guy double if he'd put the knife away.  Of course it worked.

I HIGHLY RECOMMEND this movie. Yes, it's all in Italian with English subtitles but it's so good you'll forget all about that. Here's a link to a trailer of the film.  It may now be possible to find the entire film online:

(Why don't people like foreign films?  I love em.  This one ROCKS.)

From DeliberatelyConsidered.com:

"Giorgio Perlasca was born in Como, Italy, in 1910. During World War II, he was an Italian diplomatic envoy to the countries of Eastern Europe as a food purchasing manager (meat) for the Italian Army. For a number of reasons, he found himself in the position to pretend to be a substitute for the Spanish ambassador in Budapest, Sanz Briz. When the ambassador was forced to leave Hungary, Perlasca decided to impersonate a Spanish consul in order to grant Spanish citizenship to thousands of Jewish Hungarians. He took advantage of the Rivera Law, which allowed him to naturalize all the Jewish people with Sephardi origins from all over the world. Thanks to this law, over a period of 45 days, between January 1944 and January 1945, “Jorge” Perlasca saved thousands of Hungarian Jews."

Final thoughts:  You gotta see the movie, "Perlasca".

Tammy - Out.

C is for Calling Stephen King; A to Z Blogging Challenge

CALLING STEPHEN KING

(yes, I really did!)

The year was 1983.

I was almost 13 years old and already a die-hard Stephen King fan.  

That summer, I had just finished reading, "Salem's Lot" and I was hooked. The book was so good and the writing had moved me in such a way that I wanted to talk to the author.  I had to tell him that he had inspired me to become a writer as well.  I wanted to pour out my young heart and soul to this man whom I felt understood the dark passionate things that lived inside me too.  I felt connected to Mr. King in a way I hadn't felt about another writer.  It wasn't a crush, it was sheer love and admiration of a man who wrote about the demons and the dark side that were beginning to emerge and blossom in my adolescent soul.  

So, I picked up the phone and called him.

Let me tell you how THAT went ...Remember, we are dealing with early 1980's "technology".

I go to the kitchen and get the phone, take it into my room, pulling the cord under my door.  I shut my door and lock it.

I get my copy of "Salem's Lot" (hardback of course) and flip to the back of the dust jacket.  I know that he lives in Bangor, Maine.

I got my handy-dandy phone book and looked in the front section for area codes by state and region.

#AtoZchallenge

Finding the area code for Bangor, Maine (207), I picked up the phone and dialed (literally, rotary dialed) the following number.  If you are over 40, you'll recognize it immediately.

1+207+555-1212.

Back in the 80's, you could dial any area code plus the "555-1212" and be connected with a live, local operator and ask for a specific phone number.  This real person would then look it up and read it back to you.  Live.  (Really, I'm not making this up.)

I dial Bangor information and wait.  The operator answers in her thick New England drawl.

Operator:  "Bang-ah infahmation, what listing please?"

Nervously, I say, "Stephen King, please."

Operator:  "One moment please.(clicking and whirring noises in background) That numbah is two ah seven...(and oh how I wish I still had the rest of this information...)."

Me:  "Thank you."

Operator:  "Thank you for calling New England Bell."  (Click.  Dial tone.)

I place my finger over the handset cradle, resetting the call, and proceed to dial Mr. King's house just like a kid calling her uncle on his birthday.  I have no idea what I'm going to say or if I'll even get to speak with him. I'm not nervous,  just giddy with excitement.

A man answers on the third ring.

Man:  "Hello?"

Me:  "May I speak with Mister Stephen King please?" 

(my parents raised me to have impeccable phone manners)

Man:  "Speaking."

Me:  <shocked silence>  "Oh...HI!  Um, hi, um, my name is Tammy and I just wanted to call you and tell you I love your books and I want to be a writer just like you."

Stephen King:  "Oh, (chuckle) well thank you very much.  I'm glad you like my books.  (pause) Which one did you like?"

Me:  "Salem's Lot.  It's soooooooo good! It's really scary and I'm gonna read it again."

Stephen King:  "Glad you liked it.  So, you want to be a writer?"

(At this point I am THRILLED to be talking with my literary hero and the *famed writer* Stephen King.  I am ecstatic.  My heart is pounding in my chest, my tongue is doing knots and twists, but I manage to eek out a somewhat cohesive thought in the English language.)

Me:  "Oh yes, I love to write and I write all the time and I keep a diary and I do really well in English class at school."

(Floating on air and feeling like I've died and gone to Heaven,  I think to myself, "I am ACTUALLY having a conversation with Stephen-Freaking-King"--when I am rudely knocked back down into reality by...)

*POUNDING ON DOOR*

My mom (gawd love her):  "Tammy SUE! Is that LONG DISTANCE?"

Stephen King:  (background laughter) Um, ya know I should probably let you go now.   Ah don't want to get you in trouble.  Thanks for calling me though, I appreciate hearing from my fans. Keep writing."

Me:  "Okay, um, sorry, it's my mom. It was really awesome talking to you Sir.  I will keep writing, I promise.  I gotta go.  Bye."

Stephen King:  "Bye." (Click.  Dial tone.)

Me:  "Maahhhh aaaamom!  That was Stephen King! I'm totally embarrassed."

Mom:  "A boy?  You called a boy?  Who is Stephen King?  Was it long-distance?"

Whatever the 1983 version of the *facepalm* was, I did it.  It was probably something akin to an eyeball roll combined with an angst-y sigh.  

I still couldn't help but smile, even though our talk was brief and cut short by my mom's knocking.  From that day forward, I read every Stephen King book that I could get my hands on.  I never did call him back and I never told anyone his phone number.  I know I wrote about that call many times in my diary but I didn't brag about to my friends.  To me, it was something sacred that I wanted to keep to myself and treasure.  I cherish that memory but I thought it was time to take it out, dust it off, and share it with the world.  I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Well.  There you have it. 

My one claim to literary fame.

I'll never forget that phone call for as long as I live.

And Mister King, if you ever read this, THANK YOU.

I never did stop writing.

All images are either my own photographs or free public domain photos.  No copyright infringement intended.  Used for illustrative and artistic purposes only.  No part of this this blog may copied or used without giving proper credit to the author.