We Were the Lucky Ones

Addy is in Marseilles, waiting to board one of the last passenger ships allowed to leave with refugees. Addy looks around, hoping to see some of his family, but he realizes it is futile. He sent letters, begging his mother to try and get the family to France, but he knows that was a hopeful dream. Addy has heard from a few Polish refugees about conditions back home and can’t bear the thought of his family suffering in that way. Addy himself was lucky in having secured his visa from the Brazilian ambassador in Vichy. He writes one last letter to his mother, letting his family know that he is heading for Rio de Janeiro.

Addy leaves his tiny second-class cabin on the ship and walks through the crowd of refugees. He imagines how crowded it must be down in steerage. Half of the passengers are Jews, with the others mostly Spaniards fleeing Franco, French socialists, and other “undesirables” who seek safety and a new life. Most have left behind loved ones, but now that they are onboard the ship, the mood has brightened: “With the Alsina set to sail at 1700 hours, the air suddenly smells of hope, and freedom” (117).