"My cousin Edith speaks English and Hebrew but counts only in Norwegian," said Dr. Eugene Normand.

Normand spoke at the Nordic Heritage Museum May 15. His talk was about Jewish refugees brought to Norway following World War II. Edith, her brother Emil, their parents and uncle were among them. Edith and Emil now live in Israel. The Jewish exodus to Norway occurred in three waves, 1947, 1948-50, and in 1952-53. Normand's extended family arrived in Norway during the first wave.

Normand, a Seattle resident and Boeing employee, presented a PowerPoint presentation and contributed an exhibit tracing the steps of his extended family and the other Jewish refugees the Norwegians embraced. The exhibit runs through June 29 and is co-sponsored by the Washington State Jewish Historical Society. On May 22 another lecturer will present the Danish rescue of Jews from Hitler. The two lectures will culminate with the museum's annual Raoul Wallenberg Dinner May 29. Wallenberg, a Swede, is credited with saving fifteen thousand Jews from Nazi extermination by issuing them false, but convincing, Swedish documentation.

"During the war more than 700 of Norway's 2000 Jews were held in prison camps like Grini near Oslo, and Berg to the south, and then sent off to concentration camps, including 532 to Auschwitz," said Normand. "Only 5 percent survived, or about 35 people." He said most of Norway's remaining 1,300 Jews either fled across the border to neutral Sweden. Nearly 100 followed the royal family of Norway to England, particularly the Jewish soldiers in the Royal Norwegian Army.

In 1947 a plan went forward to "replace" the 700 expelled Jews with Jewish refugees, most from Hungary and Poland. The idea came from Norwegian Prime Minister, Einar Gerhardsen, who had been put in a concentration camp in Germany, then back in Norway at Berg for his work in the Norwegian resistance movement. With the help of the Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, commonly called the "Joint," Norway managed to receive 400.

Productive workers like carpenters and tailors were sought first by the Norwegians to build and repair housing and help with day-to-day fixes. "Mechanics and shoe makers were in higher demand than doctors," Normand said. Normand's uncles were furniture-makers and their carpentry skills were highly valued. He pointed out that Hitler had a "scorched-earth policy" toward Norway when he withdrew in 1945. "Lumber, tools, and other supplies were destroyed. Norway was going through a difficult time. This was well before they developed oil."

Edith, Emil, and Normand's aunt and uncles escaped from the Nazis by moving from their home in Stanislaw, Poland to Uzbekistan. (Normand's mother was an American citizen and his father settled with her in America just before the war.) After the war Edith and Emil's family returned from Uzbekistan to Poland but felt unwelcome as Jews. They move on to Berlin where they were welcomed by thousands of American and British soldiers. That was in 1947 when they joined the wave of 400 to Norway, boarding the Norwegian ship Svalbard in Bremerhaven.

Normand said that in the late 1970's Edith met Gerhardsen at a benefit dinner in Israel and the former prime minister was surprised to hear a Jew in Israel speak Norwegian to him. "He told her that she was the first Jew he had met who benefited from his program," said Normand.

During the second wave, two hundred sick and undernourished North African Jewish children were sent to Norway for about eight months for medical attention. They then moved with some of the others to the new state of Israel. Over the course of the next few years many Jewish refugees in Norway reunited with extended family in North and South America. The third wave occurred in 1952-53, when Norway welcomed 50 "Hard-core DP's," or "Displace Persons," refugees with tuberculosis and their families. Other countries did not want them. Many surviving Jewish refugees from Norway now live in Toronto, including friends of Normand who supply him with memories and items of Norway for his growing exhibit. Normand sports a little white paper clip attached to his shirt. Norwegian inventor Johan Vaaler patented an early paper clip design. "During the Nazi occupation, Norwegians were banned from wearing badges depicting exiled King Haakon VII or other national symbols, so they wore a paper clip as a subtle symbol of their solidarity against the Nazis." For more information, visit www.nordicmuseum.org