A Day to Remember
Post date: Apr 30, 2013 9:53:04 PM
By Jennifer Goss, Misa's Fugue Producer
Nearly two years ago, I received an e-mail that would ultimately lead to a a life-changing experience for a member of our Greatest Generation. The gentleman who sent me the e-mail, Jon Iverson, was responding to a request I had posted six months prior on a community board on the Army's retired veteran's website. At the time of my post, Sean had tasked me with finding some members of the 71st Infantry Regiment that had liberated Gunskirchen. We were unsuccessful in our initial quest; however, Sean had meanwhile found footage of the 71st in the USHMM Archives that we were ultimately able to utilize in the film.
The e-mail mentioned that Jon's father (Joseph Iverson) was a member of the 71st Field Artillery Regiment during WWII and that in the years since the war, his dad rarely spoke of his experiences. Joe, as I would come to know him, had started to briefly share some things with his sons and one of the things he mentioned was that he was part of a unit that came upon a concentration camp in the woods near Laumbach, Germany. I would later learn that the day after he entered the camp, he became very ill and was transported 800 miles away to a hospital in Paris. He was never reunited with his unit and for many years, he struggled to fathom the sights he saw that May day. His difficulties were compounded by the fact that he did not even know the name of the camp he witnessed and since the information age had not yet taken hold, he was unable to learn more about it in an easy fashion.
Upon returning to the United States and his home in Minnesota, Joe spoke to a psychologist about some of the things he saw during the war. Although he did not reach much resolution concerning the sights he saw in Gunskirchen, Joe did become very interested in the field of psychology and went on to study this subject at Gustavus Adolphus College. He spent many years teaching pyschology at St. Olaf College in MN and retired from there over a decade ago. During this time, thoughts of Gunskirchen remained with him but were never really addressed on the surface.
This all changed two years ago. The first step in Joe's journey of delving into his wartime experiences came at the request of a family friend who traced the journey's of American soldiers during WWII. He asked Joe to write down his path during the war and when Joe reached his final destination in Austria, the town of Lambach, he found himself breaking down uncontrollably. At this point, he decided that it was past the time that he learn about the sights he saw outside of Lambach and to truly uncover information on the concentration camp that he witnessed.
The next step in this journey occurred when Jon came upon my post on the veterans website looking for liberators of Gunskirchen. Jon asked if Joe could reach out to me and discuss what I knew about the camp. I was more than happy to talk to him and through a series of e-mails I shared with him my knowledge about Gunskirchen and also quite a bit about Misa's Fugue and Frank's story. Although our e-mails were infrequent, we were good about keeping in touch with each other. As soon as the film was finished, I made sure that Joe was high on our list of early copies that were distributed and in late Spring 2012, Misa's Fugue arrived on Joe's doorstep.
The day after Joe watched the film, I received the first in a series of e-mails that Joe would exchange with myself,Sean and Frank. According to Joe, "It has caused me to re-open this page of memory -- and to re-live it as though it was yesterday....you, and the film have opened a curtain closed for much too long." He was eager to reach out to Frank. Sean and I were both privileged to silently observe their e-mail communications. Several days later, as I was packing up my classroom in Fleetwood, Joe and I spoke by phone and he re-iterated the impact that Misa's Fugue was having on his life. He shared that he planned on inviting his family over that weekend to sit them down and visually share with them the things he had only recently shared with them, after 66 years of silence, in a written letter.
After that phone call, I adamantly hoped that Joe and I would someday have the chance to meet in person. Ideally, I was hoping that Sean, Frank, Joe and I would all get to sit down and share a conversation face-to-face. Of course, as life tends to work, we have not yet been able to orchestrate that exact event but fate would intervene in other ways and this past weekend, I finally had the incredible opportunity to hug this man who served our country and helped to liberate Frank and his fellow prisoners in Gunskirchen.
On Saturday morning, April 27, I drove to Washington, D.C. where Joe was slated to arrive with his daughter-in-law Pat, and his granddaughter, Kari, via an "Honor Flight." This flight is organized by an incredible non-profit group, which seeks to bring veterans to Washington to see "their" WWII memorial. Joe's flight included 86 veterans from the Minnesota area, and included his close friend, Bob Anderson, a veteran of the Merchant Marine. Our plan was to meet up at the WWII memorial early that afternoon.
I arrived in DC 2 hours in advance because I was concerned about parking. It took me about an hour to find a viable space, and as soon as I did, I made the trek to the WWII Memorial. As I arrived at the backside of the memorial, I noticed 3 busses unloading men and women wearing bright yellow t-shirts that read "Minnesota Guardian" and dark maroon shirts that said "Minnesota Veteran." I was instantly overwhelmed and began asking people if anyone knew how to find "Joe Iverson." None of my initial requests were met with a solid answer so I began to walk into the Memorial, following the mass crowd that was greeted by Memorial staff who personally thanked each veteran for their service. I asked a woman with the Minnesota group as we were walking in if she knew Joe, and although she did not, she asked how I knew him. I began to explain our connection and found myself tearing up. I knew meeting Joe was important, I just did not expect myself to get so emotional!
As I entered the main area of the Memorial where they were organizing a group picture, I asked a gentleman (whom I would later learn was Jerry, the group leader) if he knew Joe. He used his megaphone to call Joe's name. When Joe stepped forward wearing his 71st hat and a warm smile,I knew I had found who I was looking for. I stepped forward to give Joe a hug and for a few minutes, we just both held onto each other and cried. It's hard to put into words how I felt, but in some ways it was like finding a long lost friend.
Joe immediately introduced me to Pat and Kari, and after the picture, we sat for about a half hour just talking about our journey to that day. Joe thanked me many times for giving him the "push" to talk about his experience with his family by providing him information and support. I shared with him how much the film has meant to the students and teachers involved and all of the interesting things I had learned from our conversations. We then briefly toured the Memorial before Joe "smuggled" me (with permission from Jerry) onto their tour bus so I could join them for a tour of the city and a visit to the Lincoln Memorial and Vietnam Memorial.
I spent the rest of the afternoon not only getting to know Joe, but also Joe's family. I found out that Pat and I share a love of all things equine and I learned about Kari's interest in filmmaking and her impending graduation from the University of Minnesota next month. I also got to know Bob a little bit, although I wish I had more time to talk to him about his war experiences because they sounded tremendously interesting.
It was hard to say goodbye that night after our dinner at the American Steak Buffet. I couldn't be happier that I made the trip into DC on that lovely day and I truly hope that I get to spend more time with the Iversons in the near future. I also sincerely hope that we can screen Misa's Fugue in Minnesota with Frank and Sean, so that they too have the opportunity to meet this wonderful man.
