Page 11 of Door Posts

POST SCRIPT

  As you may have just noticed, this remarkable story begins and ends with the same single word, a name -- Adolf.

  And I suppose it was that one person who was so intriguing to me when I first heard Daniel telling the story. Who could this Adolf Hitler be? Could he have actually been some other person who would have committed the same degree of heinous atrocities as Judah Barshevet? Would his name come to people’s minds instead, when they thought of the epitome of human cruelty? Or was he merely the unknown insignificant young artist in this story, whose life was cut short due to the brutality of mindless thugs.

  And of course, I seriously wondered if Daniel truly did go back in time. Is it possible he could have been there in Judah Barshevet’s house before World War II began? The thought of Judah Barshevet as a devoted family man and loving father is beyond comprehension. What could have possibly happened in his life that would cause him to make the shift from a seemingly normal family life to the burning quest of a raging madman to commit countless acts of horrible human cruelty?

  And then I thought about what it might be like if the tables were turned, and the Germans were viewed as the criminals of World War II instead of the Jews and the Turks? Would anything be significantly different?

  I do not think so. One thing does appear to be consistent in the human saga -- we fight with each other -- we kill each other. It does not matter who the players are. The activity is the same and the result is the same.

  I thought, ‘It could have just as easily been some madman named Adolf Hitler and the Germans annihilating millions of Jews, instead of the madman Judah Barshevet and the Jews annihilating millions of Arabs. And in either case, there would be no reason for it. It would be just another case of brother against brother. There are always aggressors and there are always victims. It is merely the same story, over and over again throughout all human history.’

  Then it dawned on me that I could indeed check the Fine Arts Academy records from back in the year 1907, to determine whether or not this Adolf person ever did exist, and did indeed apply for admission to the Academy.

  Obtaining records that were over a hundred years old was no easy task. The Registrar’s Office was quite helpful, of course, but it still required days of digging and several moments when I was thoroughly ready to give up. But finally, my fluctuant tenacity did unearth the documents I was searching for. The records are clear and intact. This part of Daniel’s story can be verified. Some young man named Adolf Hitler did indeed apply for admission to the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna in the early 1900s, and was denied admission, twice.

  What ever became of this young artist would most assuredly have remained unknown if his name had not sprung forth in the midst of Daniel Mesinger’s amazing story. He would have faded away like the vast majority of insignificant individuals who never grace the pages of history books.

  But, here he is in this book. He certainly made it into this bizarre history book. And sadly, it appears that his dreams did not come true. No one will remember his art. No one will remember his tragic death. For all intents and purposes, he was merely a pawn that was insignificantly removed from the grand chessboard of time.

  I was able, however, to contact the owners of the house for sale in Linz where Daniel discovered the watercolor paintings. They were not at all disturbed by the fact that he had entered the old art studio. It had apparently been locked up and unused for decades. They also had no interest in the paintings, and were gracious enough to release them into my care and donate them to the Academy gallery. I suppose if enough people take an interest in this story, I will work with the curators to exhibit them in the gallery for public display.

  Thankfully, the struggles and tragedies of World War II only comprise one section of Daniel’s amazing story. Certainly, even though his story only involves him and his family -- certainly that single love story is a sufficient representation of the vast potential for human tenderness and compassion and love. And it represents how intertwined we all are. The notion of a pair of survivors of the Arab holocaust connecting with a blind black man in the Congo, who eventually ties into the family of an old farm woman in Vietnam decades later is truly astounding. In fact, to me, I find all of the ways in which the various lives intersected in Daniel’s story to be truly amazing.

  I am profoundly thankful to Daniel and Sarah for sharing their wonderful story with me. May it always serve to remind us of the absolutely certain potential for human triumphs over the unfortunate inevitability of human tragedies.

  THE END

  Copyright 2016 -- All rights reserved -- William Cayhews

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  [email protected]

  Now that you have read Door Posts, if you are interested, below is his account in his own final words about what happened to him after he wrote the story. He was found just as he describes below in his POST. It never made the news. No one but us ever knew about it, until now.

 
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