FLIGHT THROUGH HELL

Published September 30, 2018 by rochellewisoff

Pegman did not get enough of this lovely region of Europe, so this week Pegman heads a little further west to the Douro Valley of Portugal.

This week’s suggestion comes from the talented Lish over at Up From the Ashes. Be sure head over to her blog and enjoy not just this week’s story, but her excellent poetry and other entertaining stories.

Your mission on Pegman, as always, is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Feel free to use the image supplied above, or visit the Douro Valley yourself via Google maps and find your own street view or photo sphere for inspiration. Or better yet, visit it in person, and take the rest of us Peg-people with you!

Once your story/essay/poem is finished, share it with others using the link up below. Reading and commenting on others’ work is part of the fun!

It has been a busy week and I really didn’t think I’d post a story this time. Once more, the Google trail and my muse conspired against my plans. And just when I think I’ve sussed out all “those stories,” another comes to light.

Many thanks to Karen and Josh for keeping this challenge afloat.

Synagogue in Douro…yep, I found one.

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

FLIGHT THROUGH HELL

“Mue amigo, my position in the Portuguese consulate gives me the power to grant you and your wife and children visas,” said Aristides de Sousa Mendes, “and safety from the German Madman.”

Rabbi Chaim Kruger twined the end of his beard around his index finger. “Can you do the same for my brothers and sisters stranded here on the streets of Bordeaux?”

Tortured by his inability to grant his friend’s request and other personal issues, Sousa Mendes suffered a breakdown. Following a rapid recovery, he threw off the bedclothes and proclaimed, “From now on I’m giving everyone visas.”

When faced with charges of “disobeying during higher service” by the Portuguese government in 1940 he responded. “I could not differentiate between nationalities as I was obeying the dictates of humanity.”

In 1966, Sousa Mendes became the first diplomat to be recognized by Israel as one of the Righteous Among the Nations.

*

Rabbi Chaim Kruger with Sousa Mendes

One of the visas issued by Sousa Mendes

Jewish Refugees in Belgium

Simplified version of the medal given for the Righteous Among the Nations

THE FINAL SOLUTION

Published August 13, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Pena, Portugal.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post. Note that there is both streetview and photospheres at this location.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

A view of Pena National Palace – Welcome to Portugal

If you think you’re seeing double, you are. 😉 I’m double dipping this week. The following is also an expanded Friday Fictioneers story I posted two years ago. When I saw Pegman in Portugal, I decided this one fit. When I saw that some of the commentors from that time are now participating in Pegman I decided to post update and earlier piece. By the afternoon I decided to post this one, too. It’s as old as time and as current as today’s newscast. 😦

Shalom,

Rochelle

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

THE FINAL SOLUTION

“These madmen rob us of everything we’ve worked so hard for—our tapestries, jewelry and, even our furniture.” Leah fingered the yellow badge sewn on her cape. “If that’s not enough, they brand us like cattle and you do nothing.”

“What can I do?” Abraham rubbed a painful lump on the back of his head. “One taste of Jewish blood sends them into frenzy, like rabid dogs. Finish packing. We set sail in the morning while we still can.”

Leah held a golden bracelet to her breast. “They cannot have this. It belonged to my grandmother, may her memory be blessed.”

Abraham’s heart thrashed against his ribs. “Leave it! What’s a bauble when our people are being exterminated like cockroaches?”

The bracelet fell from her fingers and she collapsed into his arms. “España is our home.”

“Querida, you are my home. 1493 in Portugal—it will be a better year.”

There’s nothing new under the sun.

THE JUMPING FLEA

Published August 13, 2017 by rochellewisoff

This week Pegman takes us to Pena, Portugal.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post. Note that there is both streetview and photospheres at this location.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:

For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.

Thanks to J Hardy Carroll and K Rawson for hosting this unique challenge and for giving me an extra 50 words to play with each week.

This week I brought back one that I posted three years ago in Friday Fictioneers and added 50 words to it. I enjoyed the rewrite, I hope you enjoy the reread. 😉

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 150

THE JUMPING FLEA

“Better to harvest the sugarcane fields in Hawaii than starve in Madeira,” João Fernandes told his reluctant wife. “You’ll see, we will have a better life there.”

“Portugal is home. Português is the only language we speak.”

“We’ll build a new home and learn a new language.”

During the monotonous, sometimes perilous, four months at sea she spent most of her time retching over the side of the ship. He, on the other hand, entertained his fellow immigrants on the braguinha.

____

Enamored with the new music form and João’s lively style, the Hawaiians treated him and his little guitar like royalty. Even Queen Lili’uokalani requested private evening concerts.

One lonely night, homesick for her mountains, Senhora Fernandes waited up for him.

At long last, he burst through the door. “Behold the queen’s favorite musician!”

She seized his ukulele and smashed it to pieces over his head. “Behold your instrument!”

***

For your listening pleasure. It’s kind of long but, if you have an extra 6 minutes to spare. This is no tiptoe through the tulips.