Wolves at the Door
My brother and I carried our shared past in different directions
| 10:53 AM Jan 6, 2009
One of my mother’s most vivid early memories is of the Nazis trying to break down her door. She was five, and the door was the big, heavy front one on the house she was born in, a few yards from the Arno in Florence. It was 1944. As she tells it, the Nazis, who ...
