During the Cold War, Ankara was the spy capital of the world. My parents’ house in Istanbul, was where they sometimes met, away from the limelight. They all loved their homeland, just like us. They all wanted a freer world. They all were nice to us. Many of them, including the late Canadian hero Klaus Goldschlag (who I never met), helped the Crimean -Tatars, for which my father remained grateful all his life.
In their old age, my parents spent several peaceful years in Canada. During that time, my dad visited some of his old acquaintances. I was happy to escort him. As a staunch Taurean expert hugger, I can tell you one thing for sure: Their hug is a lot different than hugging normal friends. I can trust any one of them with my life, my eyes fully shut.
I never saw Uncle Spy from Saskatchewan again. The first picture is where this meeting happened, just in case he is still alive and can recognize it. In the second picture, taken a few years prior to meeting Uncle Spy, my siblings and I, the “spy-defying” squad, stand between the pomegranate and oleaster trees in the front yard. The third picture is my family, February 1952, about six years before this event.
I cannot imagine growing up in a happier and more exciting home, immersed in love, from birth until I was eleven.
My family, February 1952
