Am I a Jew or wannabe Jew Rewrite

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I was raised in a secular home; my father was raised in a broken Orthodox Jewish home. My father lived with his mother, his sister and older brother lived with their father. His mother was a very strict and stern Jewish mother, my father told me that she drove him away and he abandoned his Jewish heritage. He joined the Army before the outbreak of WWII.

My father married my mother after his Airborne training at Ft. Bragg NC, just before he was shipped off to North Africa. Many soldiers married before shipping off to war, as an anchor, a reason to come home. My father was a career soldier, 22 years in the Army. Not many Jews in the Army, so we never lived in a Jewish community. As a child I never knew what it was like to live as a Jew.

Due to the fact my father was a career solider we moved around a lot going from one Army base to another. It was at Ft. Bliss Texas I got third degree burns.

Did I have a Near Death Experience? Or was it the effects of the Anastasia and I was tripping out. Here is that story.

It was in El Paso Texas when I was five years old that I was burned the second time, I remember this like it happened yesterday. I was playing in the kitchen while my mother and little sister were watching Soap Operas on TV. That was during the fall, October or November of 1955; I have pictures of me in the hospital dated November 1955. 

I was playing with some small plastic cowboy figurines, I remember I was going to hang one of the cowboys and so I wrapped the electric cord around his neck and pulled on it without realizing that it was the cord to the electric cooker. The cooker was on a shelf unit that resembled a small book shelf, the cooker was on the top shelf and a radio was on the bottom shelf, so when I pulled on the cord the cooker full of boiling hot water and pinto beans came down on me burning my back, left arm, a small spot on my right arm and parts of my scalp. I screamed and my little sister came running to the kitchen and when she got to the door she saw me sitting on the floor with steam coming off my body she also screamed. 

My mother come running and picked me up off the floor and took me to the bathroom, she set me down on the sink and rubbed something on my body then she took me to her bedroom and put me on the bed and wrapped me up in the bedspread, she took the car keys out of her purse tossed them to my little sister and told her “Go to Tony’s house give him these keys, tell him what happened to Dewey and ask him to start the car, I’m going to call your daddy and bring Dewey out to the car. You stay at Tony’s house.” It was strange the pain only lasted a second, maybe I went into shock and my brain shut down the pain center, but now I was scared, I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. Tony came running over to the house and stood on the front porch at the bedroom door and my mother said “Julius had an accident in the Kitchen, we need to get him to the hospital right away, I’m calling Beryl now, go start the car.” After calling my father my mother picked me up out of the bed and ran outside with me, Tony had the car started and was waiting for my mother and I. When we got into the car my mother said “Beryl said to take him to the William Beaumont Army Hospital emergency room, GO!” Tony floored the accelerator throwing us into the seat and I screamed in pain, my arm hit the cold metal of the door handle of the car door causing extreme pain. Every time Tony would take a sharp turn my arm would hit the door handle causing pain, I would scream “Tony slow down, Tony slow down!” 

I remember seeing the sign “William Beaumont Army Hospital” as we passed by it. When we got to the hospital my mother rushed me into the emergency room and set me down onto the emergency room operating table, the last thing I remember was the doctor talking on the phone; it was a wall phone next to the door. I don’t know if I passed out or if they put me to sleep. The emergency room was in a wooden building somewhat like an old wooden army barracks. The rest of my memories are fragmented but clear, if that makes sense. Treating third degree burns was always evolving and constantly changing, my case was very serious because of my age and the area of my body that was burned, so they put me in a private room and the Army assigned my father to the hospital so as to help the hospital staff with my care, one of my parents was always with me until after the second skin graft surgery.

I remember that the first time I went in for skin graft surgery I was very excited, they came for me with a hospital transfer bed and they stopped just before the operating theater and checked my temperature, blood pressure, and reflexes. I was very confused and I remember that I asked, “Is this it” and they laughed and said “We haven’t started yet”. 

Then they wheeled me into the operating room and placed a mask over my face and dropped something on it with an eye dropper, they then asked me to count backwards from ten, I said “I don’t know how to count and they said do your best. The next thing I knew I was waking up sick, very sick in the recovery room, and vomiting, a nurse ran to my side with a suction tube and started to suction the vomit out of my mouth to prevent me from drowning in the vomit. I discovered it wasn’t fun, no fun at all. Because treating third degree burns was evolving and changing not all staff members were trained with the latest techniques. My bandages were kept moist and changed on a regular basis so as to remove dead skin and scar tissue. One night one of my parents observed a nurse changing my bandages putting the dead skin and scar tissue back on my arm wrapping it with a fresh bandage, they intervened and informed the nurse that the dead skin could promote infection, luckily for me infection never set in which is very common for burn cases in the 1950’s. Visitors from outside the hospital except my parents were not allowed, and everyone who entered my room had to wear a surgical mask. 

My youngest sister Deborah was so worried and missed me that she couldn’t sleep, so my parents arranged for her to see me, but we were only allowed to see each other in the hallway several yards apart. I did have a friend from an adjoining room who was confined to a wheelchair we were very close and I enjoyed his company, he was the only one who was allowed to visit me, I cannot remember his name. I later learned that he was suffering from a kidney disease.

Because of getting sick after my first surgery I didn’t want to go through it again, I remember it like it happened yesterday; I nearly died from Anesthetic Shock; anesthesia in those days was very risky. I was scared, very scared and crying as they brought me into the operating room, they put the mask over my face and told me to count backwards from ten, I just cried. The next thing I knew I was still crying and floating near the ceiling looking down onto myself and the doctors, one of the doctors pulled off his mask and said he’s gone, I shouted out “No I’m here, can’t you see me. I’m here.” And then the next thing I knew I was floating in space and still crying, I saw galaxies and stars, and I heard voices that sounded like a choir. The voices were saying “Dewey, we’re coming for you.” Over and over, (My nick name is Dewey) I was scared so very scared. Then I saw a light far in the distance, and there was a man in the light, the strange thing is I couldn’t see the bottom half of the man, it was like seeing a news caster on TV. The voices were getting louder and louder and the light got closer, but I still couldn’t see the bottom half of the man. Just as I started to step into the light I woke up in the recovery room vomiting and again a nurse came running to my side with a suction tube and started to suction the vomit out of my mouth to prevent me from drowning in the vomit. I never spoke of this until I was 14 years old, my Mother told me that I nearly died during surgery, and then I told my mother this story. I think that God has a mission for me.

In 1956 or 1957 my father got orders for Ft. Sill Oklahoma, When I was eight years old while on the school playground during recess a gang of boys surrounded me and started pushing me and hitting me, they called me a Jew boy and that the Jews killed G-d and that Jews didn’t believe in G-d. I didn’t know what they were talking about, I never knew that I was Jewish, and I was confused, how could anyone kill G-d? G-d created life; he’s all knowing and powerful. They tied me to a tree and beat me; I remember seeing a girl standing by the class rooms watching the boys as they beat me. Then the bell rang and the boys ran off to their class leaving me tied to the tree, then I saw the girl again with the teacher and she was pointing at me, the teacher untied me and took me to the principal’s office and the principal called my father. I had no idea that I had Jewish roots and so I was very confused and couldn’t understand what the boys were saying, I asked my parents why the boys were calling me “Jew boy” and why they were beating me, and why they hated me.

My parents tried to explain and answer my questions; they gave me Bible stories for children that had a lot of pictures in it. I was raised in a Christian home; my father rebelled against his Jewish roots because his mother was very strict using Jewish law and mitzvahs from the Torah as guidelines to raise her son. I read the Bible stories, and studied the Bible as I got older, I read the Bible three times, the last time I not only read the Bible I studied it, using other books to answer questions about the Bible.

It was when I was 16 years old when I decided to adopt Judaism as my personal religion, and make Israel my home.

I started writing to Jewish relatives on my father’s side of the family telling them that I wanted to be a Jew and asking them questions. They sent me books on Judaism and Hebrew, my uncle Sam, my father’s older brother told me about a program where Jewish children can go to a Kibbutz in Israel for a summer vacation. I talked to my parents and they thought it would be a good idea, I wrote to the Kibbutz and they sent me a pamphlet and an application form. I studied the pamphlet and it said that Jewish children could go for free, I was so excited. My mother helped me get my passport and to complete the application form. After a few weeks the Kibbutz accepted my application, but I had to pay about $300.00 for airline tickets, something I didn’t know is that the Synagogue or Temple the children attends pays for the airline tickets, I didn’t attend either a Synagogue or Temple because I lived in the country and the nearest Synagogue or Temple was 110 miles away, I was heartbroken, I wanted to go so bad.

My father wanted to retire in the country, and started to buy a farm in the bible belt of Arkansas. So we moved to the farm when I was 14 years old and I went to high school in Lamar Arkansas. I raised and trained eight horses while I went to high school.

Shortly after I graduated from High School, I got a draft notice, my father told me that if I enlisted before being called up, and because of my grades in high school I could most probably select my military school and MOS. That way I could avoid going to Vietnam. But as it was, I got caught up in the war anyways. That's another story.

Like my father, I married before being shipped off overseas, probably for the same reason.

She didn't like Army life moving around like a career soldier does, and asked for a divorce. We had two sons, and two grand children.

I made my first trip to Israel while in the US Army stationed in Germany

When I had about three months left in Germany I told my Battery Commander that I wanted to go to Israel, my Battery commander informed me that I had already borrowed leave to take care of family problems and that I couldn’t borrow anymore. I said oh well, I have a valid passport that said student on it, and that I had money from my re-enlistment bonus, so I’ll just go as a student. He replied “You’ll go to the stockade when you get back.” I said well 90 days in the stockade would be worth it. My Battery commander said, whoa now, you just re enlisted in the Army, you’ve been a good soldier, let’s not be hasty and ruin your career. Give me two weeks and let’s see what I can do for you. I said Okay. 3 days later he called me into his office and told me that he had some good news and some bad news for me. He told me that he could let me go on a 7 day admin leave (That’s leave without pay) but the bad news is that I had to go with a Protestant group. I told him that I’d go with the devil himself.

I married again in 1973 while in El Paso Texas after my tour of duty in Germany and I was stationed at Ft. Bliss Texas. 

Like in my first marriage, she didn't like Army life and asked me for a divorce, we had no children.

I got out of the Army 22 June 1976 and got my engineering degree at Arkansas Tech. I then got a job with Kentron International and worked at Hill Air force Base in support of the Cruise Missile run off testing. I got a promotion a few months later and went to DugWay Proving Grounds at a telemetry station in support of the same program. After a year, I was again promoted and went to China Lake California, again in support of the same program.

After the Cruise Missile testing I got a Civil Service Job at China Lake and worked their until I retired with 22 year at China Lake, 27 years counting my Army time. Before I retired I took vacation in Thailand, and remarried at Ban Thare Thailand 24 October 1988,

We have a 24 year old Daughter.

After I retired from Civil service I took a Job with Madison Research Corporation at the Dona Ana missile range, I worked there for about 5 years and took a job with Raytheon Southeast Asia Systems in Cairo Egypt.

About three months before leaving Egypt I decided to take vacation in Israel, of which I had made prior arrangements with my employer’s travel office and got their blessings. My employer’s travel office helped me get a business passport. The plan was that I would use my regular passport to leave Cairo to Istanbul Turkey, because it had my Egyptian work visa, then I would use my business passport to leave Istanbul to Tel Aviv, and visa versa on the way back. That way everybody in Egypt would think I went to Istanbul for my vacation.

The plan would have worked except that when I came back my flight was canceled due to mechanical problems with the plane. My luggage which contained an Israeli flag was put on another plane, and just about boarding time they got the original plane repaired, so when I arrived in Cairo my luggage wasn't there. My employer hires locals who have a security badge to greet their employees at the airport and they can get their employees past customs and airport security. When my luggage wasn't on the carousel I went to the luggage claims window with the greeter, of course I had to produce my ticket and security saw that I had been to Tel Aviv. My luggage arrived in Cairo 6 hours later and security went through it and found the Israeli flag. The Egyptian authorities let me keep everything and let me go to my apartment.

Three days later I was barred from going to work, and 3 weeks later I was given 24 hours to get out of the country. I was terminated from my job 4 months later, and my security clearance was flagged. My education and experience is all towards defense systems, and I was out of work for two years, I got unemployment for just one year. Damn near lost my home.

I did all my paperwork to make Aliyah to Israel, and was approved for the G0-North program before I left Egypt. I didn't expect to be kicked out of Egypt. That messed up everything. I didn't correspond with the Jewish agency for over two years after that. A few months ago I got an email from the Jewish agency asking me when I was going to make Aliyah, I explained to them about my problems with the IRS and they locked my account and I couldn't update my paperwork. I sent them an email asking why they locked my account, they explained to me that because I'm too old to work in Israel, and that Israel has an Extradition treaty with the USA I would have to pay my back taxes before I can make Aliyah. They asked me to inform them when I get my taxes paid, and then I can make Aliayh! Being kicked out of Egypt ruined all my plans. I hope to get my taxes paid within two years. 

At about 7 in the morning of 4 September 2016 my wife had a massive stroke.

9/5/2016 due to brain swelling she had to undergo a procedure called Hemicraniectomy, this is Partial Skull Removal to relieve pressure on the brain.

Shortly after her surgery she developed pneumonia and went into respiratory failure and placed onto a ventilator which was doing most of the breathing for her.

9/11/2016 The doctors felt that she wouldn't recover from the pneumonia and told me that I had a decision to make, they asked me if I wanted to turn off the ventilator and let her pass peacefully. I know her movements, and I knew she was still there. I couldn't live with myself if I was to let her die with doubt in my mind about whether she would pull through or not, so I said no. She opened her eyes 3 days later. That was a miracle!

My wife is now paralyzed on her left side and now at home after being transferred from hospital to another, four different hospitals altogether. The Highlands Rehabilitation Hospital in El Paso Texas being the last for undergoing extensive therapy. 

My wife was discharged from Highlands Rehabilitation Hospital in El Paso Texas 22 December 2017 and was an outpatient for physical therapy for 6 months, but it got to the point that I couldn’t afford to make the co-payments and now I’m doing therapy at home.