WW II Archives -

In a nondescript, brick building across from the Malt Shovel Pub, Gaydon’s Village Shop opened in May 2010 as a non-profit co-op where volunteers provide locals with staples and simple necessities that households might run out of on a weekend.

The shop’s shelves were stacked with a hodgepodge of essential toiletries like shampoo, soap, deodorant, toilet paper and toothpaste, as well as milk, eggs, butter and cheese and a limited selection of fruits and vegetables, canned goods, pasta and cereals.

Surprisingly, the Village Shop also sold fresh pastries and bread delivered daily from a bakery in the hamlet just down the road.

Beverages, such as bottled water, alcohol, beer, wine, cider, juice and sodas are also available for purchase.

I perused the shelves with childlike wonder. I picked up a chunk of cheddar, waved it at the woman behind the counter and asked, “Do you have grated cheese?”

“No” the lady at the till told me, “but I have grater at home that you can borrow.” Then, she picked up the phone and called her daughter and asked her bring it over.

Minutes later, the shop doorbell jingled and her daughter dashed in and handed me the family’s cheese grater.

Meanwhile, as we were talking, a middle aged man walked in with his father, who hobbled on an artificial leg from the knee down.

“Oh dear, what happened?”

“Felt my knee cap slip up me thigh when I fell,” the elder man told the woman at the cash register. “And that was my good leg!”

A spontaneous discussion between strangers unfolded as can only happen in these quaint, little communities where the time seemed to standstill.

Another shopper asked me, “Where you from?”

“Illinois,” I answered in my midwestern nasal twang. My very unBritish inflection was a dead giveaway.

“I’m from Normandy,” Gerald added in English with a heavy French accent.

“Normandy!” the elder gentleman exclaimed. “Lost my great uncle over there during The Landing. He was shot down parachuting over Ranville (towards Caen).”

“Me and dad were paratroopers,” the man’s son explained. “I parachuted in the WWII reenactment in Arnhem, Holland.”

Then the friendly fellow went on to recount his tales traveling to US and being in whiskey bar in Florida.

“We’ve just been to the pub,” the jovial, older man said, “Had a wee pint or two or three!”

Another young lady in the shop overheard us talking. She peeked into our baby buggy and asked, “Oooh, is that Nic and Larissa’s baby?”

“Yes,” I said beaming, “we are the proud grandparents.”

“I’m their neighbor,” she said.

“Glad to meet you!” I said. “I’ve heard so many nice things about you from our son and daughter-in-law; I feel like I know you already.”

If the Malt Shovel Pub is the heart of Gaydon, the Village Shop is its’ soul. Where else in the world does the pace slow enough to chat with locals, so trusting, that they’ll lend their own kitchen appliances to complete strangers?

Everyone feels at home at the Village Shop.

Even the “foreigners.”

We hear the stories of great male leaders discovering new lands, leading nations to battle, defending human rights, but what about everyday valiant acts by ordinary women. “Courage doesn’t always roar. “

“You are not defined by this moment in time
You are not defined by what has happened to you
It is the way that your choose to respond
That matters what you do
And what you decide to do
Courage is not the absence of fear
But a powerful choice we make…”
From Courage Doesn’t Always Roar By Paula Fox

During WWII, a soft-spoken, young secretary helped hide her boss’s Jewish family in an attic in Amsterdam. When the Gestapo discovered the Frank family, Miep Gies risked her life again, by hiding Anne’s diary (written between June 12, 1942 – August 1, 1944) from authorities. In 1947, Otto Frank, the only family member who survived the concentration camp, published Anne Frank Diary of A Young Girl, which sold 31 million copies, was translated into 67 languages, and has been studied worldwide including my English class at the International School of Geneva.

Miep Gies Feb. 15, 1909 – Jan. 11, 2010

In my class, I continued my lesson about Dr. Boswell’s pre Civil War quilt codes guiding slaves to freedom on the Underground Railroad with another exercise to show the bravery and ingenuity of everyday people.

Franco-Suisse Hotel Arbez

A half hour from our campus, the Franco- Swiss Hotel Arbez at La Cure sits on the borderline dividing the two countries. During WWII, the owners hid British and American soldiers and Jewish civilians from the Nazis. The bottom of the staircase lies in German Occupied France; the top of the stairs “the Hideaway,” a second floor room, is on Swiss territory. Refugees disappeared into the mountains on the neutral Swiss side.

After showing examples messages stitched in quilts, I asked my students to sketch symbols that could help map the route for imaginary refugees escaping from our school to the French border at La Cure.

Over a half-century later, another daring woman, Erin Gruwell, inspired 150 disillusioned tough kids from broken homes and street gangs, to use writing to bring about change. The Freedom Writer’s Diary, published in 1999, was the true story her freshman English class at Wilson High School in Long Beach, California. In 2007 the movie Freedom Writers was released, and the Freedom Writer’s Foundation website was established. http://www.freedomwritersfoundation.org/site/

After reading Anne Frank, Miss Gruwell’s class then raised funds to fly Miep Gies over from the Netherlands to speak at their school. After Miep speech,

Marcus, a husky, former gang member, once living in the street, raised his hand and stated, “You are my hero!”

“Oh no, young man, I am not a hero,” she said. “You are the heroes in your own life story – I just did the right thing at the right time.”

Single voices. Small steps. Soft whispers. Subtle strength. Simple women of courage stand out.

Tag Archives: WW II

Anne Frank, Miep Gies, Erin Gruwell –Solitary Voices Speak Out To Make a Difference