“Ruth Gruber, a Fearless Chronicler of the Jewish Struggle, Dies at 105” (The New York Times, November 17, 2016).
The headline grabbed my attention. Not because of Ruth Gruber’s advanced age of 105 or because of her involvement with the Jewish struggle during World War II. Rather, it was because I “knew” Ruth Gruber and her story. I had come to know her as a result of a random phone call in 2001.
In 1944, a year before the end of World War II, President Franklin D. Roosevelt decided to grant temporary asylum to a thousand European refugees. Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes chose a Jewish-American writer and journalist, Dr. Ruth Gruber, who was working as his special assistant, to go on a secret mission, escorting the refugees to the United States. The journey – which culminated in the refugees’ arrival in New York harbor on August 3, 1944 and their being given sanctuary on an old army base called Fort Ontario in Oswego, New York – became “the defining Jewish moment” of Gruber’s life.
It was an extremely risky trans-Atlantic crossing through U-boat infested waters. The group of Jewish refugees was to depart from the port of Naples, traverse the ocean in a ship, the Henry Gibbins, and live until the end of the war at the army base. This group was the only large contingent of Jews allowed into America during World War II. Ruth’s involvement in this rescue became the subject of one of her nineteen books, Haven: the Dramatic Story of 1,000 World War II Refugees and How They Came to America (1983). In 2001, the book was made into a two-part CBS mini-series starring the late Natasha Richardson as Ruth.
Dr. Gruber was 32 years old when she was sent on this mission. She felt strongly that she was suited to go as she was Jewish herself and spoke Yiddish. Dr. Gruber recalled the fateful conversation she had with her boss:
“Mr. Secretary, these refugees are going to be terrified – traumatized. Someone needs to fly over and hold their hand.”
“You’re right,” Ickes responded. “I’m going to send you.”
In her role as a spokesperson for the refugees, Gruber presented their journey as a human interest story for the press. She told the New York Times that the refugees represented “a cross-section of every refugee now pouring into Italy.” In a touching moment in Haven, Gruber recalls a rabbi conducting a service as the boat passed the Statue of Liberty, and her pride in telling the Jewish refugees of the Holocaust that the poem on the base was written by Emma Lazarus, an American Jew.
Together they made the two-week journey without attack, and the refugees arrived in the United States “safe beyond their most roseate dreams,” according to a New York Times account at the time. But they were hardly sure of what awaited them. As a condition of their entry into the United States, they had to sign contracts promising to return to Europe at the end of the war.
Because of their undefined immigrant status, the refugees were not permitted to leave Fort Ontario, even to work or to visit family members already settled in the United States. They struggled to create a community within the camp, but their anxiety over their uncertain futures made relations tense.
In spite of the fact that Dr. Gruber’s job could have ended with the arrival of the refugees in the U.S., she did not abandon them. She was a leader among the advocates who, after Roosevelt’s death, successfully lobbied President Harry Truman to allow the refugees to stay in the United States.
While the story ended happily for these refugees, unfortunately it came at the expense of others waiting in D.P. camps in Europe. Since the overall immigration laws and quotas remained unchanged, the close to 1,000 refugees were just subtracted from that year’s quota.
Until the end of her life, Dr. Gruber remained convinced that the United States could have saved many more.
The 2001 TV mini-series, “Haven,” was based on Gruber’s experience. The filming took place in Toronto, a popular filming venue, where I was living at the time. The director of the TV series was looking for someone to advise him regarding the Jewish content of the script. He was ignorant of all things Jewish. He wanted to ensure that his set looked authentic. He needed to know if the Friday night Sabbath meal looked like a typical one, where the Kiddush cup belonged on the table, what did traditional Jews ate on Friday night, if a rabbi come into the sanctuary to take a Torah scroll out of the ark to read in the middle of a regular weekday and how Jews dressed in that time period.
Not knowing where to turn for these and other answers, the filming company looked in the White Pages (online inquiries of this nature were still in the future) and found a listing for the Canadian Jewish Congress. Thinking that someone at the Congress would most likely be able to help them, they called. They asked the secretary who took the call to connect them to a rabbi. She forwarded this call to my husband.
Back then my husband worked for the C.O.R., the main kashruth supervisory agency in Canada (roughly equivalent to the O.U.). The C.O.R. was autonomous but was housed in the CJC building. He laughed to himself when he heard what the caller was looking for.
“I am so sorry,” he replied, “I am really not the right person for this assignment”
“Would you know anyone that you can recommend?” they queried.
“My wife!” was his immediate reply.
And so I, rookie that I was, became the Jewish consultant for “Haven.”
The director called me and asked me to read the script and weigh in on it with my comments, suggestions and/or corrections. Okay. That I could do. Within an hour the script was delivered to my door. Not having any experience in this industry, I was taken aback by the speed with which these people operated.
I read the script, made some corrections and sent it back. Then things got interesting.
The director asked me to come to downtown Toronto to meet with him to discuss the script and also to consult on the set. I had no idea where all this was taking me but I went along for the ride.
When filming companies come to Toronto, they set up a number of huge trailers along the street. These trailers contain offices, living space for the actors, costume and makeup facilities and anything else they might need during the few weeks that the filming takes place. Ordinary people sometimes rent out their homes to a filming company and move out for the duration of the work.
I arrived at the set a few days later. Entering the house they were using for the film, I felt as if I were transported back in time. The entire house was converted to look and feel like it was 1944. The furniture, draperies, and tablecloth were vintage. No detail was spared down to an actual 1944 newspaper on the coffee table.
As I “toured” the house, I couldn’t help but be fascinated. Huge floodlights were set up outside the windows to beam “sunshine” into the house to create daytime; the lights were adjusted to darken the house for an evening scene. I was introduced to the main actors: the late Natasha Richardson playing Ruth, Anne Bancroft playing her mother and Martin Landau as her father. I was asked, among other things, if the set Sabbath table looked authentic; did traditional Jews eat brisket Friday night? And yes, there was an imitation brisket on the table.
Then Miss Richardson surprised me with a question.
“Linda,” she asked in her beautiful British accent, “is there a prayer I can say on the ship as I bring the refugees over to America?”
Now here I was stumped. What could I possibly answer? She meant it sincerely, actively living the role of Ruth Gruber. I told her I couldn’t think of anything on the spot (“Tefillas HaDerech”?) and that I would get back to her.
The director asked me about a scene in which Anne Bancroft, acting as Ruth’s mother, had to sit shiva for her father. I was surprised to see that they did have a wooden crate for the actress to sit on. When asked about shiva customs, I told the director that there would be a tear in the garment of the one sitting shiva. At this, Ms. Bancroft took offense! She declared that she would absolutely not appear with a tear in her garment!
I was taken to her trailer and asked to convince her. It was a very bizarre encounter. I remember thinking how all of this was only make-believe but she was “living” it. Because it was so real to her, she would not hear of appearing in a public venue with a tear in her clothing. It would just be too embarrassing! Ms. Bancroft asked me if I was Orthodox. When I answered in the affirmative, she said “Well, that explains it then!”
I had no idea that reasoning with recalcitrant actresses was part of my job description!
I went down to the set on two different occasions, each time feeling like a fish out of water. The environment was completely foreign to me. This was my first-and last-experience of this kind. I had to laugh to myself: here I was completely removed from anything remotely related to the entertainment industry and I was functioning as the consultant! I wondered what the director and his staff would say if they found out that I didn’t even own a TV!
The filming took place just a few weeks prior to my second daughter’s wedding. I figured the money I would make could cover a few bills, and it did!
It might seem ironic, but I never did see the finished product. But along the way, I did learn about a little-known chapter of the Holocaust. I had studied the Holocaust extensively but had never come across the name “Ruth Gruber.” I never had heard of Oswego or of the refugee camp it hosted.
Life is a mystery that leads us down many roads; the twists and turns are often interesting and always unpredictable. We can never know what lies ahead. Consulting on a film set? Who would have thought? You just never know who might be on the other end of that phone call…