“I just saw what was going on and did what I could to help.”
Imagine, for a moment, that a man saves the lives of 669 people. Then imagine that his good deeds remain hidden for almost 50 years – even from his wife.
You don’t have to imagine that; it’s not fiction. Such a man died one week ago today.
His name was Sir Nicholas Winton, of Great Britain. In late 1938, he was a young stockbroker. He went to continental Europe on holiday.
What happened next was . . . remarkable. In many ways.
Go here, here, and here for additional details. I think you’ll be impressed – and likely awed. You might also want to have a tissue handy.
Afterwards, Winton kept quiet about what he’d done for nearly 50 years. The title of this article is how Winton described his actions after they’d become public.
That to me is nearly as impressive as the acts themselves.
Sir Nicholas Winton passed away on 1 July 2015. His last birthday was on 19 May of this year; it was his 106th.
Rest in peace, Sir Winton. Rest in well-earned peace.
. . .
Postscript: Ironically, Winton has never received one honor that you might expect. Although Winton was British and was baptized – and presumably raised – as a Christian, his parents were originally Jewish. They emigrated from Germany to England 2 years before Winton was born; they converted to Christianity after arrival in England.
The fact that Winton’s parents were originally Jewish apparently prevents him from being declared a “Righteous Gentile” by Israel and so honored at Yad Vashem. Go figure.
Category: Blue Skies, Historical
That is an amazing story. Exceptional humility for a man that committed acts of heroism during a time when our humanity was in question.
Great post, Hondo. Reading this has made my day.
True humility, he will be great in the Kingdom to come.
Gets dusty in here sometimes.
Holy Crap. That is truly awesome. Thanks for putting this here.
I saw a brief clip when he was on the BBC show with the grown children he had rescued.
It got dusty then, and it’s dusty now.
‘Scuse me, I need to blow my nose & dry my eyes. Allergies, don’t’cha know.
Under Jewish law, the son of a Jewish mother is Jewish and a member of the tribe; rejecting the religion does not change that status. The same rule applied to his mother. I think the determination goes back five or so generations.
Thus, Sir Nicholas was Jewish under Jewish law and recognized as such under Israeli law. He would have had the right to Israeli citizenship if he had wanted it. However, under Israeli law he was not a gentile.
Regardless, he was one seriously humble bad ass and the world is a little less bright from the loss of his light.
True. But I find the fact that Israeli law disallows his recognition on the grounds that he is considered (in Israel) Jewish somewhat ironic – especially in light of historical use of similar laws elsewhere to persecute those deemed “Jewish” due to birth vice choice.
Thank you Hondo. I have saved those articles in my archives. I could not say it better than you Sir, “Rest in peace, Sir Winton. Rest in well-earned peace.”
I’m sure he was being thanked by the parents of the kids he saved right after he passed through the Pearly Gates.
Word
I won’t lie, there is no dust in here. Those articles made my eyes moist.
Susan’s comment above touched on what I find so incredibly amazing about this man’s life.
As a young man, he did an incredibly great humanitarian deed – a deed that literally gave 669 children new lives when they were otherwise doomed to die. Only a cruel twist of fate prevented the total from being over 900.
While arguably not “heroic” in the military sense – Winton himself said he was never really personally in danger – it’s an example of what can be done for good by someone willing to try. He could have walked away; he didn’t. He worked for nearly a year instead in an attempt to save total strangers.
That type of good work is amazing, and rare. It’s something well worth adulation and recognition. Anyone would be justifiably proud to have saved one innocent life. This man saved 669.
Yet, afterwards – he told no one what he’d done. He kept his mouth shut for nearly 50 years. Had his wife not found his old scrapbook and asked him about it, he’d likely have taken that secret to the grave. And even after his deeds had been made public, he continued to downplay his role.
That degree of humility and modesty is stunning – as well as moving and awe-inspiring.
We certainly should never forget the man – or what he did. He’s an example we need to remember.