It's getting real....

This time next week, I will be in France.  There are so many things I am looking forward to.  I canNOT wait to see Christine and Patrick and meet Michael.   Their father held my father’s life in his hands.   Jules Morel knew the consequences of his compassion, but his compassion overcame his fears.

Patrick and I were pen pals back in the dark days of snail mail and land lines.  As we grew up, the letters faded. 

In 1975 I had the honor of going with my parents to see the Morel’s.   It was the first time that my father had seen Jules Morel since WWII.  We walked through the town and met people that had been a part of concealing my father.  They would always point at his  once jet black hair that was now white and laugh with joy.  At every house went visited, they served us alcohol in some form.  At 15, I had never had this much (okay, ANY) alcohol and was pretty looped by that evening.  My parents thought it was hysterical.

Last April, John and I went to Poperinge, Belgium and I was able to find where the Morel’s store was.  I will get confirmation when we see Chris and Patrick.  

We are meeting on 7/20 at the tourism office in Poperinge.  So, if you hears squeals of joy, that will be me.