A Holocaust survivor
dedicates his life to helping
terminally ill children.

ELIZABETH APPLEBAUM ASSOCIATE EDITOR

ben Henri Landwirth was 17, he
was a prisoner in a Nazi death
camp in Poland.
- Arland Powell of Detroit is 17
years old today. He's fighting a
different kind of battle: leukemia.
Several months ago, the two
crossed paths outside Kissim-
mee, Fla., when Arland was a
guest at Give Kids the World.
The nonprofit organization,
which Mr. Landwirth established
in 1986, works with wish-grant-
ing groups around the country to
provide terminally ill children
and their families with an all-ex-
pense-paid trip to Florida.
"We had a great time," said Ar-

land's mother, Ramona. 'The vil-
la is beautiful — there was so
much to do. They even lent us a
video camera and we filmed
everything. Every now and then
we pull the tape out and watch
it."
enri Landwirth was 20
years old when he came to
the United States in 1949.
He had $20 in his pocket
and a lot of painful memories in
his heart.
"Europe," he says, "was some-
thing I wanted to put complete-
ly to the side."
At 13, Henri had been impris-
oned in a Nazi death camp. He

H

spent the next five years in
Auschwitz and Mauthausen. His
parents, "the most wonderful
people in the world — people who
truly enjoyed life" — had been
murdered by the Nazis.
Henri himself survived by
something of a miracle. As the
Allies approached, he and other
death-camp inmates managed to
escape, only to be caught and or-
dered shot.
Instead, the German soldier
decided to release the boys. "The
war is almost over," he said.

Ramona Powell with her son,
Arland.

THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS

Henry Landwirth with visitors at
Give Kids the World.

48

"Why don't we just let them
go?"
When the war ended, Mr.
Landwirth went to Belgium
where he learned diamond
cutting. He started work in
the States, then he was draft-
ed into the Korean War.
"I thought it was a mis-
take, somebody playing a
joke," Mr. Landwirth said. "I
didn't even know English, so
I couldn't read the telegram
(draft notice)."
Initially, Mr. Landwirth
said, "I just followed every-

body around." But slowly he be-
gan to pick up the language.
When he returned home after
the war, Mr. Landwirth used the
GI Bill to study hotel manage-
ment. He settled in New York
and found a job for $30 a week.
In 1954 he married. He took
his bride on a honeymoon to
Florida, a state he liked so much
he decided to stay. Yes, it's hot,
he admitted, "so you just go from
air-conditioned house to air-con-
ditioned house."
In Florida, Mr. Landwirth
found tremendous success
in the hotel industry. One of
his first ventures was tak-
ing charge of the Starlite
Motel in Cocoa Beach,
where he became close with
the Mercury Seven astro-
nauts staying there, as well
as news correspondents cov-
ering the rocket launch.
(Today, he remains
friends with former astro-
naut and now Ohio Sen.
John Glenn and former
CBS anchorman Walter
Cronkite, both of whom
serve on the Give Kids the
World executive advisory
board.)
One day Mr. Landwirth
was asked to host at one of
o his hotels a family with a
2 terminally ill daughter.
(More than 70 percent of
children with a last wish want to
go to Disneyworld). But before
she could arrive, the girl died.
The problem was time. There
were hotel and flight arrange-
ments to be made, vacation spots
to buy passes for, car rentals. It
could take weeks.
"I was very upset when I
heard this," Mr. Landwirth said.
"It was a terrible, terrible thing."
That's when Mr. Landwirth
went into action.
He decided to build an orga-
nized effort to accommodate the
families. (Today, arrangements
can be made literally in hours if
necessary).
First, he raised $4.5 million for
the project and converted one of
his own hotels into a Give Kids
GIVING page 48

