MARGOT SCHERTZ, circa 1949
I remember exactly the first time we met. It was in 1979. A letter had arrived from the States telling my mother and my uncle that they were coming to France, and would we like to meet them some place in Nice for lunch?
This was the first I had heard of a family in America. Or maybe I had, but I never ‘clicked’ or asked questions about who these relatives were. My mother is not the kind of person who likes to think of those who belong to a rather painful past (meaning her German childhood), so she might have said ‘I have cousins in the States’, but I am not sure she ever added anything like ‘I wish we were in touch’…
Anyway, there they came, Margot, my mother’s first cousin, and her husband Leo.