An Ode to Doris Gutheim-Faur

Grandma Doris on her 89th birthday (December 2019)

This is my Grandmother, Doris Gutheim-Faur. On December 30th, 2023 she would have turned 92 years old! For this reason I feel called to share a small, yet significant, part of her life story:

Grandma Doris was born a German-Jew in 1931. By the time she was 6 years old, Hitler had long risen to power and genocide had already begun. Visas had become increasingly difficult for Jewish refugees to receive. Some portion of her family had fled to what would become Israel. 

As for herself, her parents and sister Ellen; they were able to receive a sponsorship through an uncle that was living in the United States. An opportunity that not many at the time had the privilege to take. I imagine that it was not an easy decision to leave one’s life, home and possessions behind in order to start anew. However, had they not taken this chance, history tells what would have likely been of her young fate.

Often, I reflect on the existence of my Mother and therefore myself and siblings only being possible because of this opportunity. I wonder what effect this personal history had on shaping her beliefs, politics and outlook on life. I wish that I had asked her more questions about this. Truly, it is difficult to fathom the reality of the 6 million+ that did not have this same opportunity.

Currently, I struggle to palate the present reality for the children of Palestine who are not dissimilar to my Grandmother many years ago. Who’s children’s children would not be dissimilar to myself. Why then, should they not be given a similar opportunity to live? As far as I know, I have family in Israel. As far as I am concerned, I have family in Palestine. I do not condone my tax dollars, history, or religion being weaponized.

One atrocity does not justify another.

A painting done by Grandma Doris (circa 2020)

I remember meeting an older man who worked for a holocaust museum. I wondered why it was that he surrounded himself with the sadness of such a dark history. It turns out that he himself had survived the Holocaust. He told me that there were many family members that had found each other after years of separation; That he hoped to one day find his long-lost brother. Although I cannot say what came of this story, what I do know is that he taught me something.

If history does in fact repeat itself, then we mustn’t forget the lessons that it has taught us. It has shown us what the results of becoming numb and complacent to the loss of human life are. 

We can understand that the only way that we will become informed is if we seek out information. 

We can understand that the only way our money will reach the children is if we donate it. 

We can understand that the only way our thoughts will be heard is if we speak them. 

We can understand that the only way that our prayers will be answered is if we feel them.

For these reasons, I share the story of my Grandmother, Doris Gutheim-Faur.

May she rest in peace and may her story be remembered.

-Kevin Tyler Williamson