PURELY COMMENTARY essay
I Called Her Aunt Anna
T
he stories behind how Jewish families bond with those of other religions have always fascinated me. I grew up in an Orthodox, then later Conservative Jewish family. Sandy My parents were Hermanoff very close with a woman from a Greek Orthodox family. Her name was Anna, but I loved her so much and felt so close to her, I always called her Aunt Anna. She came into my family when my dad joined a partnership with three brothers who were in the restaurant supply business. She was the secretary. My dad told me the story that Aunt Anna and one of the brothers, Eddie, were very much in love. But it was not to be. Eddie was from an Orthodox Jewish family; Anna was from an Orthodox Greek family. Eddie was my dad’s best friend. They went everywhere together. One day in 1946 my dad and Eddie were doing errands. It was a quick visit to a doctor’s office where Eddie was having a checkup. As they were leaving, Eddie started to breathe heavily and grabbed his chest. He died hours later of a heart attack. He was in his early 30s. My parents and Aunt Anna never got over Eddie’s death. My dad told me he promised Eddie to look after Aunt Anna for the rest of her life. And he
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did. Aunt Anna never married, and she was very close to our family until she passed away at 90 in 2012. Aunt Anna was there when I was born and attended almost every event that happened in my life. She told me lots of funny stories about her family the whole time I was growing up. When it was time to go away to college, she took me clothes shopping. I had eight real aunts, but Aunt Anna was always there for me. She was about 5’4”, had dark brown curly hair, big wide brown eyes that twinkled and a big smile. She was always dressed beautifully, and I loved her perfume. She was very special to me. She was one of five daughters in a very close Greek Orthodox family. I remember visiting her parents’ house when I was a little girl. The desserts and all the specialty dishes I tasted were so delicious. The family was warm and welcoming. It was like being in a Jewish home. When I was very young, I remember one time going to church with her. I was awestruck with the colorful windows and high ceilings — very beautiful, but very different from the synagogue I was used to. Aunt Anna always made a big deal on my birthday. I still have some of her beautiful gifts that I treasure. She was so caring, a good listener and supportive — even sometimes when my very own parents wouldn’t listen. And I always felt that she missed so much in life because she never married. She was very active in the
Greek church. In fact, she worked in the church for many years before she came to work for my dad. I always thought she would have made such a great mother, wife, etc. I always felt I was the daughter that Aunt Anna never had. After my dad passed away, my mom came to Detroit to live in an assisted living development. I discovered that Aunt Anna moved to a senior living complex, so I got Aunt Anna and my mom together for several phone calls. But then they suddenly stopped, and we were unable to connect. I found out from her family that she passed away in 2012 — six months before my mother. A LONG-HELD SECRET Fast forward to 2013 when I was in my office, and I received a phone call from Aunt Anna’s nephew who I hadn’t heard from for years. We exchanged greetings and then he told me his whole family couldn’t figure out why my parents and Aunt Anna were so close. I told him I was sorry she had never married and that I missed her. I was sorry that my mom and I couldn’t come to her funeral because mom couldn’t make the trip. He hesitated. He cleared his throat. Then he just divulged that Aunt Anna and Eddie found out that she was pregnant in 1943. Aunt Anna went to another state, had the baby and brought it back with her. The baby was adopted by a family two years later. She grew up in a wonderful Jewish family, went to college and married a great guy — a
doctor. He told me where they lived in Akron but didn’t have any contact information. Her name was Susan Schwartz and her husband’s name was Barry. I was numb and dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe it. Why had my parents not told me about this? The baby was one year younger than me, so had we played together as infants? Where could I find her — and what would I say to her? Was she brought up Jewish? Greek? Where was she and what did she look like? Did she ever try to find her birth mother, and did she ever contact her? After I collected myself, I looked up the name — and there it was! I called the number and left a message. “I don’t know how to start this, but my parents and your birth mother were best friends, and I never knew about you. Please call me. I would like to know all about you. Your mother was my second mother. This all is a big shock to me.” About an hour later, the phone rang. The woman on the other end sounded just like my Aunt Anna. I had a lump in my throat. I couldn’t believe it was not her. Her voice and the way she pronounced her words was uncanny. That was the moment Susan came into my life. Susan and I exchanged stories. We laughed and we cried. She told me she had tried several times to reach Aunt Anna. She even brought flowers to her on one occasion, but Aunt Anna said she knew who she was, and she could not
