In the 1950’s my hometown tripled in size , and my parent’s home had extra bedrooms , so Canadian immigration asked if we could take in some immigrants who had fled the iron curtain . The first was a young East German who escaped by swimming to freedom across a river close to his native city of Eisenach … in late fall , at night , wearing all the clothes he could swim in . He was spotted , spotlighted , and escaped a hail of bullets by swimming underwater in a zigzag course , coming up for air when the water was dark above him , not lit up by the moving spotlights . He reached the other side and ended up migrating to Canada a few months later . He was about 8 years my senior and became like a big brother , teaching me how to shoot , and even letting me drive the truck he bought a couple of years later , when I was about 12 .
In late 1956 , we took in about a half dozen Hungarians , who also boarded with us . They had some interesting stories of their escapes to tell around our dinner table , I can assure you . One , who frankly gave me weird vibes , had slit the throat of a Russian soldier to make his escape (and could smile when he retold the story – it was obvious that he enjoyed reliving the experience) . All were extremely grateful to have come to a land of freedom and opportunity . I heard that old Joe (the killer) later bought a failed FINA gas station a few blocks away and turned it into a successful auto repair shop .