For 33 days, he saw the horrors of war as he delivered the paper on the street, “right under the bombs and the fire,” he says.
The first time his house was bombed, Andy’s grandfather and aunt died. He survived, protected by his grandfather’s bakery ovens.
He was bombed three more times in three different homes. Still, he survived.
After the uprising, Andy was put in a processing camp, then was packed into a train car headed to Auschwitz and an almost certain death.
After three days, members of the underground pulled open the doors to the train car.
Now, Andy lives in York. He raised his family here. He’s happy here.
He doesn’t know if there’s any great moral to his story. The key was survival. He made it through, when so many did not.
Despite living through horrors most people can only imagine, he says he’s lucky.
“I guess luck plays a part in everything we do, and I’ve been lucky most of my life,” Andy says. “Even when I was unlucky, I was lucky.”