For 59 Holocaust survivors from Orange County and San Diego who came of age during war or in the years of tumult after and never had the opportunity to affirm their faith through the sacred rite-of-passage, a b’nai mitzvah (the term for a ceremony for multiple people) held Sunday, Nov. 5, at the Merage Jewish Community Center in Irvine was described as an “overdue celebration” of their “Jewish identity and heritage that was robbed from them during their youth.”

When Walter Lachman, 95, was to have his bar mitzvah in 1941, the ceremony had to be held in a schoolhouse because all the synagogues in the community had been destroyed by Nazi violence. His mother died of leukemia when he was 7 and his father of tuberculosis just four years later.

“Mad at God” for all he had lost, Lachman, who had been born in Berlin, refused during the ceremony to read from the Torah. The next year he was put on a train with his grandmother and taken to the first of three concentration camps he survived before being liberated on April 15, 1945.

The Laguna Niguel resident said he found closure properly commemorating the belated rite of passage with Sunday’s celebration.

“I don’t know what got into my head as a 13-year-old kid,” Lachman said, having regretted his decision later in life. “I’ve been looking forward to this event.”

The ceremony was sponsored by the Honig Family Foundation, a nonprofit started by Newport Beach philanthropist and entrepreneur Ken Honig, and featured survivors who immigrated to the U.S. from 14 countries, including Algeria, France, Germany and Ukraine.

“Their Holocaust-era experiences vary tremendously as does their country of origin, age and stage of life at the time of WWII,” said Honig, a student of the Holocaust who helped build the Merage Jewish Community Center in Irvine and fund Chapman University’s Holocaust Studies Program.

“Their’s is a tapestry, a big picture made up of many different individual stories threaded throughout that time in history,” he said during Sunday’s ceremony. “We have here those who were young adults and those who were infants or in utero and who may not have their personal memories, but whose lives were imprinted during the years following the war as they came to understand their collective losses.”

The oldest survivor to be celebrated in Sunday’s b’nai mitzvah was 102-year-old Helen Weil of Laguna Woods.

Born in Germany in 1921, Weil’s parents and older sister were deported to a concentration camp in 1938, where they died. With help, she managed to escape to England and stay with a family in the Yorkshire region before eventually obtaining a visa to come to the United States at age 20. She never had the chance to have a traditional bat mitzvah.

“Now I’m here to still enjoy life,” Weil said, describing the “wonderful” feeling of participating in a b’nai mitzvah. “It’s a holiday we are celebrating today.”

Laura Breitberg, 83, was just 8 months old when war broke out in Russia and her family fled to Siberia.

“And on the way we were bombed several times and some of my relatives were killed,” said Breitberg, a San Diego County resident.

“I think that today, it’s a great thing,” Breitberg said of the b’nai mitzvah held for the survivors. “And especially very symbolic for me personally because I’m getting bat mitzvah to celebrate, to be proud of being Jewish, to celebrate this thing and to show the younger generation how important it is to keep your Jewish identity.”

Honig said he was inspired to organize the b’nai mitzvah during a trip to Jerusalem in January, when he made a pilgrimage to the Western Wall, also known as the “Wailing Wall.”

For centuries, the wall has served as a symbol of faith and a place for prayer and reflection for generations of Jews.

“After witnessing many of the elderly praying there, I started to think about how many of these people had a bar or bat mitzvah in their past,” said Honig, a former wrestler, rugby player and real estate developer who retired at age of 37 to engage in charity work.

When he returned to California, Honig said approached the Jewish Federation communities in San Diego and Orange County about finally giving Holocaust survivors the opportunity. With the help of local Jewish Family Service programs, which provide support and services to survivors, the offer to participate went out.

There are about 400 Holocaust survivors in Orange and San Diego counties, said Carole Yellen, senior director for the Center for Jewish Care at Jewish Family Service of San Diego.

Though planning for the b’nai mitzvah started earlier this year, the recent attack of Israel added new meaning to the day, said Carole Yellen, senior director for the Center for Jewish Care at Jewish Family Service of San Diego.

“In the midst of the heartbreak that we’re experiencing as a Jewish community, we have to take moments to celebrate loudly and proudly our Jewish identity and opportunities to celebrate in the Jewish community,” she said. “And that, I think, is giving a lot of people healing at this time.”

Laguna Woods Globe

I love soup, and with the onset of fall weather and turning the clocks back, it is something I make weekly.

One of my favorites, and, believe it or not, also the absolute favorite of the grandkids, is my clam chowder. It could be 100 degrees outside, and if they are coming over for a meal, they will request this soup. Other family members and friends have also declared this to be one of the very best.

There’s a restaurant in Salt Lake City named Market Street that is quite famous for its clam chowder, and this is my adaptation. Warm up with a bowl on a fall or winter night, and you’ll be happy you did. This recipe makes 8 servings.

Any questions or comments, email cjvigos@yahoo.com.

Carla’s Clam Chowder

INGREDIENTS

1 cup, Yukon Gold potatoes, diced

1 cup celery, diced

1 cup onion, diced

1 cup green pepper, diced

1 cup leeks, diced

3 cans of minced or chopped clams

1 teaspoon coarse ground black pepper

21/4 teaspoons of salt

1 tablespoon of fresh thyme leaves or 1 teaspoon of dried

6 bay leaves

1 teaspoon of Tabasco

3/4 cup sherry wine

2 cups of water

3/4 cup of clam juice drained from the canned clams

3/4 cup of butter, melted

1 cup of flour

1 quart half-and-half

Green onion tops for garnish, optional

PROCEDURE

Combine melted butter and flour in an ovenproof container and bake at 325 degrees for 30 minutes. This will produce a thick roux that will thicken the soup when you stir it in.

In a large saucepan, combine the remaining ingredients except the clams and half-and-half. Simmer until the potatoes are thoroughly cooked, about 20 minutes. Add the clams. Stir butter-flour roux into the chowder and stir until thick.

On a low simmer with a large wooden spoon, gradually stir in half-and-half until blended. Heat to serving temperature, stirring occasionally, for about 20 minutes to thicken the soup to your liking.

If the soup is too thick for you, just add more half-and-half or a little bit of whole milk.

Adjust seasonings. Chopped green onion tops can be added for garnish.

“Oh look, Lucy,” I said to my adorable little puppy, my 10-pound Shiba-Chi (Shiba Inu Chihuahua) rescue, who is actually about 11 years old but will always be a puppy to me.

“It’s a crow. We haven’t seen many of those lately.”

Well, Lucy wasn’t a bit interested. After all, it wasn’t a bunny or one of those many cute little lizards we have around here, or her very favorite, squirrels. Darn those squirrels. If you have a dog, you know exactly what I mean.

Poor crows. They’re kind of ugly, at least in my eyes. Maybe that’s because I was fortunate enough to live in the suburbs of Canberra, Australia, in the 1980s, and there were absolutely beautiful birds flying free like our crows.

There were galahs (rose-breasted and gray cockatoos), lorikeets, parrots and very colorful wrens. It was kind of like living in an aviary. I loved my walks because of these beautiful birds.

One day, when I was out walking, I felt something hit my head. Teenagers, I thought. Probably throwing their trash (wadded up paper or a paper cup or such) from a passing car at the poor, unsuspecting and completely oblivious pedestrian. Yikes, it happened again. Hey! There can’t be two cars with rogue teenagers in them!

It was then that I looked up and noticed a sign that cautioned all to “Beware of magpies” or something like that. And then I noticed a black and white bird zeroing in on my head, like a kamikaze pilot.

But unlike kamikaze pilots, those magpies were not suicidal. They were anything but, because they were about to have babies. They had a lot to look forward to in life. This was their nesting time, and they didn’t want us big old humans anywhere near them.

So anyhoo, there I was running down the street trying to get into parked cars with magpies in pursuit. I was quite unsuccessful because the cars were all locked.

What the heck! Haven’t all those Aussies been telling me how safe it was to live there? That it wasn’t like the Wild West of America?

Well, I probably wasn’t running that far because those magpies wouldn’t leave their nests unguarded for too long – or too far – but it sure seemed like it. Sort of reminiscent of Hitchcock’s “The Birds.”

Oh no … the birds … Tippi Hedren … poor Tippi Hedren … Run! Run! Run! … They’re coming for you.

Diane Duray is a Laguna Woods Village resident. Contact her at dduray47@gmail.com.

A green monster baring its white teeth over the cart’s windshield was one of the first to arrive at the staging area. Cart riders Glennda Adair and Nancy Bledsoe included some colorful baby monsters held “lovingly” in their mama’s arms, fingernails covered in red polish.

This was their second time riding in the holiday parade, which began during the pandemic as a “safe” outdoor activity.

“It was intended to provide a bit of normalcy,” said Shoon Aung of the Village recreation department, who coordinated this year’s event.

Not to be outdone by their carts, many of the riders were dressed for the occasion as well.

Three black-clad participants with skulls for heads rode in a cart with an orange witch’s hat and large eyeballs glaring from the front. Admitting to being Linda Giss and Annie and Denise Harfield in disguise, the three ghoulish riders were making their first parade appearance.

Related: ‘Golden Bachelor’ is a hit among Laguna Woods boomers

They said they built their theme around the eyeballs they discovered at a dollar store. One of the three was blowing bubbles as the other carts and riders gathered before the parade kickoff at 11 a.m.

Pam Meislahn and Tina Magnuson chose a movie theme, dressed as Cruella de Ville and one of the “101 Dalmations” in a doggy-face cart.

“We planned this for a while and have had the costumes for a long time,” said Meislahn, covered from head to toe in a white fur coat and sporting red high heels. On a very warm Halloween morning, she admitted to being “hot but it’s worth it!”

Monica and Hans Berg were dressed as a nun and a Viking, a couple of costumes they have used since the mid 1980s.

“He’s from Norway so is a natural Viking,” Monica Berg said of her other half. “And I grew up Catholic.”

In addition to carts belonging to residents, at least two clubs participated in the parade. Riding beneath a scary and hairy grouping of huge black spiders were California Club board members Leon and Carol St.Hilaire and Dave and Sharon Peavy. The Light Volleyball Club sported a cart as well.

Although riders were not allowed to throw candy, some still yearned for some trick or treat fun.

“I’m hoping someone will give us donuts along the way,” said one of the ghouls, who did appear rather bony and in need of food.

“Who said old people can’t have fun?” asked another costumed rider as the cart parade set off on its hallowed path through the Village.

With his fit physique and full head of hair, he sent a reported 4 million-plus women aged 60 and up, but also younger, into a collective swoon when he first appeared on ABC’s “The Golden Bachelor” on Sept. 28.

A spinoff of the ubiquitous TV series featuring young hot chicks and hunky bachelors, the new show has expanded the genre’s horizons by coming up with Gerry (pronounced Gary) Turner, a widower looking for love, and 22 women, aged 60 to 72, who are using their charm, wits and wiles to win his affection.

The show has caught on like pickleball in a retirement community. Older adults and senior centers across the country have been hosting weekly “Golden Bachelor” watch parties, and Laguna Woods is no exception.

Members of the Boomers Club, all women, of course, have been gathering for viewing parties at each other’s homes since the show’s inception. Last Thursday, a dozen women ensconced themselves with pizza and adult beverages in a dining room at the 19 Restaurant and, with giggles, guffaws, moans and groans, watched episode 4, which featured – surprise – a pickleball tournament.

Turner, apparently “passionate” about pickleball, is a retired restaurateur from Indiana, a father and grandfather, who lost his wife in 2017. Watching him get teary-eyed at her mention, one figures he still mourns her, but he’s seemingly game to take another look at love and commitment.

Boomer Monica Berg called Turner an interesting fellow but a bit naive.

“I don’t think many men would be as emotional on TV,” she said. “Some of the ladies are clearly playing him. He is a good ol’ boy from the Midwest, and some of the ladies there are big-city girls schooled in how to snag a man.”

Susan Schneider, an organizer of last week’s party and a fan of the “Bachelor” series, respectfully disagreed.

“I find Gerry amazing. I don’t think they could have picked a better guy – he’s sweet,” she said.

Schneider also praised the women vying for his attention.

“What you see in these women is so much kindness and respect for each other. The younger ones in the other ‘Bachelor’ shows are so catty and nasty to each other.”

Those older women come across as intelligent and appear as beautiful as their age allows, wrinkled faces and dimpled arms notwithstanding, with plenty of long tresses and slinky dresses, perhaps a little nip and tuck here and there. Their resumes show full lives that saw marriage, motherhood, grandmotherhood, widowhood, along with various degrees of professional success.

While a common cliche holds that women in that age group become invisible, it was clear that this lot intended to be anything but.

“The show mirrors our lives here in Laguna Woods,” Schneider said. “Women (here) are single, divorced, widowed. They have experienced separations and grief and are looking for that significant other for the rest of their lives.”

Schneider admitted that she applied to be a contestant on “The Golden Bachelor” four years ago, before the pandemic broke out, when she was living in Long Beach, but she never heard back.

On the show, Turner and the women go on single dates and group dates. Last week, one lucky lady went on a romantic ATV ride in the desert, complete with a pop-up hot tub.

All the while, the bachelor hands out roses, starting with “first impression” roses, more roses for those lucky enough to stay in his eye: Get a rose, you’re still in; no rose, you’re out.

The Boomers held a contest trying to predict which woman would get a rose – and which would be booted out of the mansion. And they played “Golden Bachelor Bingo,” crossing out squares each time Turner turned teary-eyed or when “Gerry talks about kids/grandkids” or “Someone puts on reading glasses.”

They gasped when contestant Sandra confessed that she had skipped her daughter’s wedding to play in the pickleball match. When asked to raise their hands if they condoned Sandra’s actions, none went up.

“It’s the rudest thing, skipping her daughter’s wedding to play pickleball. Daughters are forever; men, they come and they go,” said Berg, with others voicing agreement.

Some questioned whether a couple could really find lasting love in the span of the show’s run.

“I wonder how women could profess real love after such a short time,” said Sharon Campbell. “What’s also interesting is to figure out who wants to win him and who just wants to win the game.”

Still, “I think it’s possible to find a permanent relationship at our age,” she said, calling the show a little fun for the voyeur in all of us.

Schneider says watching the show with her friends is a bonding experience: “We have great conversations with each other afterwards. Women here respect each other.”

Berg finds the show a “fabulous” escape from reality.

“It is a great way to get away from all the terrible things happening today. We have an evening full of giggles, nothing political, nothing really disturbing. We can have an evening among us girls, a little harmless fun.”

Added Darlene Marvin: “Now we need a Golden Bachelorette. It can happen – it will happen.”

Sometimes we long to go where we feel known and welcomed. A place where it doesn’t matter where we’ve been or who we used to be. Where we are greeted just as we are right now.

Such a place is tucked into the Aldi Center. Tammy and Monja, the owners, greet everyone who enters the Laguna Cafe as if they were longtime friends. They make you feel as if you belong.

That sense of belonging is so important in today’s world and rare to find. There is something that feels good about finding the right people in the right place, at the right time of our lives.

There’s a difference between fitting in and belonging. Fitting in is like wearing the coolest Halloween costume ever. Nobody knows who you are, but you look great.

Belonging is being in the world as our true self. Author Brene Brown said, “Fitting in is about assessing a situation and becoming who you need to be to be accepted. Belonging, on the other hand, doesn’t require us to change who we are; it requires us to be who we are.”

Scary things are happening in our world today, so more than ever we need positive people to be around. We need to be able to see the compassion, gratitude and true connection that is within us.

Fred Rogers, from the television show “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” said, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.”

Trust is the invisible part of welcoming that joins us together. It nurtures an atmosphere where we feel valued, understood and accepted, just as many people do at Laguna Cafe.

As we recognize the importance of trust in fostering a sense of being in the right place to be ourselves, we pave the way for stronger, more inclusive gatherings where we become helpers to each other.

This can have a ripple effect. When we trust the people around us, we are more inclined to empathize with their struggles, celebrate their successes and offer genuine support during difficult times. These emotional bonds create a sense of unity and solidarity, strengthening the feeling of belonging.

We can always put on our Halloween costume and go out and fit in anywhere, but true happiness comes from belonging, to ourselves and to the world.

The Rev. Linda McNamar is a Laguna Woods Village resident.

Laguna  Woods resident Barbara Wolk, a retired Spanish and English as a Second Language teacher, did just that. Under the pen name Diana Kingsley, she wrote “Mother in Name Only.”

Wolk will have a book signing Wednesday, Oct. 25, at 1 p.m. in the Florence Sylvester Senior Center in Laguna Hills. Call the senior center at 949-380-0155.

Written with emotional and intelligent clarity, the novel illuminates Wolk’s life growing up in New York as a “nice Jewish girl” saddled with all the constraints of coming of age in the 1950s and ’60s. That meant being taught to be obedient and chaste, to present the right appearances in manners and looks and, if need be, to be ready to forgive and forget transgressions – especially those committed by the opposite sex.

In the book, Wolk has become Myrna Kaye – Kramer after her marriage to Eli, a successful but icy lawyer – with a sister, Sandra, and their parents.

Wolk writes of the sisters’ upbringing by a mother who did not have the emotional and intellectual capability to raise the girls under anything but unyielding authority. It was their father who provided warmth, love and emotional support and a measure of stability. He held the family together until the mother ran off to pursue an artistic calling.

Her departure embodied the emotional absence of a woman who described herself to Myrna as “a mother in name only.”

The title also alludes to Myrna herself. After she was raped and impregnated by an old flame, her husband forced her to give the boy up for adoption.

“I had to make a difficult decision when I got pregnant – whether my husband would know – and decided that I had to do the right thing, to let him know that he was not the father of this child,” Wolk recalled in an interview in her home in the Towers. “I paid a heavy price. I felt like I, too, was a mother in name only.”

Over twists and turns, and with the help of a psychiatrist, she reconnected with her son, but in doing so, she lost connection to her eldest son and, for a time, her youngest.

“I had a reunion with … the son I was forced to give up 35 years later, but it did not turn out to be idyllic,” Wolk said.

Later, however, she wrote in an epilogue, the son she gave up now refers to her as “mom,” and she is in steady contact with her two grandchildren.

Born in 1939, Wolk captures the mores and overall tenor of times when women were, first and foremost, taught to protect their chastity against onslaughts by men who were under no such constraints. They were to be educated but not too smart, to present themselves attractively, to marry well and produce successful offspring.

Women of that generation will undoubtedly recognize shades of their own lives in “Mother in Name Only,” and it will be an emotionally difficult read at times. The fact that Wolk is Jewish is salient, but women brought up in other faiths will have no problem relating.

The instinct of self-preservation in the face of the desire to please and perhaps to succeed has prevailed across generations into the MeToo zeitgeist where women are fighting similar demons.

Wolk started to write “Mother in Name Only” in 2004. She finished it in 2005 but waited nearly 20 years to publish it. The characters are real and thinly disguised, and events are based on reality. Consequently, she was afraid that her former husband would sue her for libel before his death.

However, under the aegis of New York’s Adult Survivors Act and in line with California’s Sexual Abuse and Cover-Up Accountability Act, Wolk has initiated a lawsuit against her rapist.

“As a retired New York City high school teacher, my bandstand is to teach women and men to not only find their voice, but to use their voice to report either verbal abuse or sexual abuse to a best friend, family member or law enforcement immediately so that they can have a witness to make the culprit accountable,” Wolk wrote in an email.

“Mother in Name Only” was a finalist in the 2023 International Book Awards in the categories Inspirational Fiction, Women’s Fiction and General Fiction. Wolk has two book signings scheduled at local Barnes & Noble stores.

In the postscript she writes:

“Revealing this story to the world in its entirety is a catharsis for me. I have learned to better understand and accept in myself what has been diagnosed as a case of PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. I have felt such pure relief by just getting this poison out, this trauma.

“I want to share who I really am; not just the facade, the shell of a person. By extension, I hope that others can learn to reveal their secrets, disappointments and pain. … Acceptance and forgiveness are the keys to living a better and healthier life with peace of mind.”

When she was 6 years old and living in her native Netherlands, Nasiell saw German soldiers marching past her house singing a song about continuing on to England.

It was May 1940, and the Germans had overrun her country in their bid to dominate Europe and the world during World War II.

“My father told me not to worry, and I was too young to realize the consequences,” Nasiell, 89, said in a recent interview at her home in Laguna Woods, where she has lived for 35 years,

When her mother asked if the family could go to America, her father said it was too late to escape, she recalled.

Soon Nasiell was unable to attend school or play with neighborhood children due to German decrees regarding the treatment of members of the Jewish faith.

“We had to wear a yellow star on our coats, which was sewn on to designate we were Jews,” she said in an account of her life written up by friend and neighbor AJ Lane.

“I had no idea what it was for,” Nasiell said. “I was mad about not playing with my other girlfriends.”

Although they had enough food on the table, her parents, Leo and Sascha van der Horst, had to close the department store they owned in the town of Steenwijk and relinquish their car. Leo was taken away briefly by the Germans but fortunately returned to his family in time for his wife’s birthday.

By 1942, Nasiell’s parents knew it was time to disappear with help from the local underground movement.

“My sister and I were deposited with some former store employees nearby for one night,” Nasiell said in Lane’s account. Strangers from the underground picked her up and took her by herself to the home of a couple named Liefland in Utrecht to go into hiding.

“I wasn’t thinking anything at the time but knew I couldn’t go outside except at night so I wouldn’t be seen,” Nasiell said.

During a necessary visit to a doctor, she was briefly reunited with her sister, Kathy, who was three years older, in the waiting room. She discovered that her sister had been sent to several homes in hiding but was so homesick and depressed, she was reunited with their parents.

When neighbors collaborating with the Germans entered the house where Nasiell was staying and asked her point-blank if she was Jewish, she answered that she was.

“No one had told me to say that I wasn’t,” she said.

Taken in for interrogation, she told the authorities honestly that she didn’t know where her parents were despite threats of having her ears cut off.

She was taken away to Amsterdam and held with other Jews in a theater before they were to be shipped off to Poland. Members of the underground managed to find out that she had relatives in the city who owned a kosher restaurant.

Her aunt and uncle, named Hiechentlich, paid a ransom to have Nasiell freed, and she stayed with them for several months.

Again the Germans were threatening to send Jews on their “last trip.” A member of the underground picked up Nasiell and took her to a drugstore.

“I was sitting in the corner with the Star of David under my coat,” she related to Lane. When a Nazi soldier came in and asked what she was doing there, the pharmacist said she was waiting for a prescription.

An underground worker then spirited her across the Netherlands by train to the eastern town of Nijverdal, where she joined the household of a childless couple named Pieter and Klasien Bakker. Along the way, they passed through Nasiell’s native city, but no one recognized her.

At her new hiding place, Nasiell experienced more freedom of movement. She could go anywhere she wanted.

“The neighborhood knew I was Jewish, but I did not have to display the star,” she told Lane. As the school principal was also hiding a Jewish boy, they both could go to school.

When German troops commandeered the house she was living in, she and the family went to the country, where they lived on a farm in Hellendoren. During the time she was with the Bakkers, Nasiell said she grew so much that she had to cut the toes off her shoes because new ones were not available.

As the Germans retreated toward the end of the war, they became more desperate, even launching a hand grenade through the house where Nasiell was living, nearly striking her.

In May 1945, the Netherlands was liberated. Canadians and Americans on tanks came driving into town, throwing loaves of Wonder Bread at the exhilarated people, who were finally free. When she tasted the bread, Nasiell thought it was cake, she recalled.

A few weeks after returning to the Bakkers’ house, she was reunited with her mother and sister. They had all lived in hiding, including her sister, who had been transferred 16 times.

When she asked where her father was, she learned that he had died of a heart attack two weeks before the war ended. “I never saw my father again,” Nasiell said.

“If I hadn’t been sent to eastern Holland, I would have starved,” she told Lane. “The western part of Holland had no food. And the fact that I was oblivious to what was happening around me saved my life.”

The reunited family went back to their hometown, where her mother reopened their store.

“Mother had a box of buttons that she displayed in the store’s window,” Nasiell recalled. “That’s why people came back to the store, because they needed buttons!” The store also sold clothing and linens.

Nasiell returned to school, entering fifth grade as if she had never missed any learning time.

An uncle with a store in northern Holland helped the family get back on its feet, and three years later, her mother was remarried to a man named Hans Hartog.

In 1959, Nasiell came to the United States with her first husband, a Dutchman who served in the U.S. Army, and lived in California. They had two sons, Leon and Irvin. Later divorced, she married Gus Nasiell, a Swede, with whom she moved to the Village. He died last year.

Neighbor Lane met Nasiell at the pool three years ago, became fascinated by her story and wrote a short biography for the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles, which chronicles the history of the Holocaust.

“You are living history,” Lane tells Nasiell and feels adamant that her friend’s story be told before it is too late, before living witnesses to the horrors of the Holocaust are gone.

Nasiell said she feels great gratitude to the people who risked their lives to hide her.

“I regret that I never went back to thank the families I lived with,” she said. “I never saw them again nor remained in contact.”

She and Lane hope that by publicizing her story, descendants of the families who saved her may reach out and make contact after all these years.

Yet this spooky-fun event had its beginnings 2,000 years ago when the Celtic New Year was celebrated at summer’s end with bonfires and people wore costumes to ward off evil spirits.

M&M’s are one of the most popular candy treats given out for Halloween. The sugar-coated goodies even have their own special recognition – Oct. 13 was National M&M Day. Introduced in 1941, M&M’s are sold in over 100 countries. The original colors were red, brown and yellow with the logo lettering in black, which was changed to white in 1954.

Over the years, colors have come and gone and returned again by popular demand. Orange, for instance, debuted in 1997, was discontinued in 2006 and returned in 2010. A special blue M&M was introduced to promote “The Blues Brothers” in 1979 and was only available for a short time. Considered to be a rare M&M, one recently sold at auction for $600.

Today there are a total of 25 colors and 61 flavors that range from the original “plain” chocolate, peanut, caramel and mint to flavors commemorating many holidays and tastes such as Mexican Jalapeño Peanut M&M’s.

Some of the M&M colors have been animated and outfitted. Red is portrayed as the life of the party, always up for a fun time. Wonder if that is why red M&M’s are the most popular color.

Yellow is considered the happy one who smiles and laughs. Typical of blue, this color’s character is calm and collected. And green is the fiercely independent one, the one who likes the outdoors.

If you’re in a quandary about a costume for Halloween this year, consider being one of the M&M’s.

M&M’s offer plenty of trivia for those so inclined – they’re the most popular chocolate candy in NASA’s space program, became the official chocolate of NASCAR in 2006, and Google employees have unlimited access to M&M’s.

The famous slogan, “The milk chocolate that melts in your mouth, not in your hand” and the M&M’s brand characters were trademarked in 1954. The voice of Ms. Brown is Vanessa Williams and the character first appeared at the Super Bowl in 2012.

It’s reported that more than 400 million M&M’s are produced each day, which means there should be plenty of colors and flavors for trick or treaters to enjoy this Halloween.

Writer, editor and speaker Cheryl Russell is a Laguna Woods Village resident. Contact her at Cheryl@starheart.com.

My hearing aids will probably cost just a shade under $3,000 — and that’s just my cost. Thank God I have insurance.

I’m getting tired of hearing just bits and pieces of conversations, if I hear them at all. On Sunday, our vicar at St. George’s said that I did a beautiful reading, and I did a knee-jerk type of reply — “And you did a wonderful sermon.” And I’m sure it was because the Rev. Pat’s sermons are always very good.

I’m trying to fake that I’m hearing what other people are saying to me by nodding occasionally and smiling a lot. But I live in fear that someday someone will be saying, “And it was such a tragic loss because the whole house burnt down.” Or “And the death was so tragic.” And there I’ll be smiling like I love fires or doom and gloom.

I was at a Publishing Club meeting recently talking with Nancy Brown, the club’s president, when she reminded me to get my nametag. So I walked out to the sign-in table, and the only words that came out clearly to me were “strip search.” Again, a knee-jerk reply, “Oh, me, me … I volunteer. I’ll do it.” Everyone at the table laughed, so I think you can see that they’re a fun bunch of people. I heartily recommend that you check out the club sometime.

Lucy has finally figured it all out. If she needs to go out, she starts by wagging her tail, and I get the drift. But if I’m not looking, she starts barking extremely loudly. She turns up the volume a lot. So now it’s “bark, bark, bark … dang it, woman … let me out!”

About the only good thing about not having my hearing aids is that life is very peaceful, because I hear only about 20% of it. Hopefully, it’s the important bits.

“What’s that you say? You’re going to retire? I thought you were already retired.”

“Oh, oh, my house is on fire. That makes a lot more sense.”

Oops, guess I’d better go and do something about that.

Diane Duray is a Laguna Woods Village resident. Contact her at dduray47@gmail.com.