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It shouldn't. It's sad, and it's not my gig to derive any glee from the suffering of others. I used to know a guy whose parents were, he said, "Latvian refugees". You might say I mothered him into his full stature as a lawyer. Since earliest childhood, his parents had made him speak Latvian at home, even though he was born in Nebraska. He belonged to Latvian clubs, and celebrated all Latvian festivities in native Latvian garb. He was strictly forbidden to marry anyone but a Latvian girl. The works.
When the Soviet Union broke up, he moved to Riga almost immediately. His parents stayed here.
He started a law firm and has been doing very well for himself all this time, including, of course, marrying a real Latvian for his mama. But it really bothered me that his parents stayed here, that they didn't even go to Latvia for his wedding.
Well. Ahem. They were deported by the Soviets for helping the Nazis... and the Latvians don't want them back.
So, anyway, my old friend and a number of other American-born children and grandchildren of these war criminals all went "back" to Latvia just as soon as they could, and formed the backbone of the effort to pull Latvia into the modern democratic age.
I guess it was the laugh of such great irony. It got a sour laugh out me.
29 December 2008
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