Ijssel, her son Hugh Scotland, and Rabbi Allan Freehling at her second wedding. "(Diesel) gives us reason to believe we can learn from our experiences and overcome anything in our paths," said Rabbi Freehling. w Lu F- LU LLJ F- 34 George returned to Eng- land. Depressed, lonely and burdened by the dark secrets she hid, sui- cide again seemed to Liesel like the easiest so- lution. But after a second botched attempt, Liesel stumbled upon a three- day seminar on emo- tional healing and transformation in 1986. One of the speakers was Rachel, the daughter of Holocaust survivors. She poured out her frustra- tion about her parents' obsession with the past. "How could I forget? It's a sin for me to feel good, to enjoy my work, to date a man. I can't al- low myself to be happy. To me, my parents are the Nazis!" she said ve- hemently. Suddenly Liesel was on her feet. "No! Your parents and you are the victims!" And before she knew what she was saying, she blurted out the entire sto- ry of her sordid past to her predominantly Jewish audience. "I was as shocked as they were," Ms. Appel said. "I ex- pected everybody to hiss and be very hateful. I looked at Rachel and I saw the sheer hate I thought I deserved blaz- ing in her eyes." But something unexpected happened. The Jews converged upon Liesel, showering her with love, hugs, kisses and un- derstanding. They even walked her to her car and made sure she was all right before they let her drive away. "It was the first time I ever allowed people to touch me like that," Ms. Appel said. "I never hugged anyone. I always kept everyone at bay because I didn't feel I deserved to be loved. Not even by my children." Rachel and Liesel became friends. And slowly, Liesel be- gan to confront the painful memories buried deep inside her. She reclaimed her German names. And she traveled to the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles to uncov- er the truth about her parents' involvement in the Holo- caust. As far as she could tell, the Steffens had been strong supporters of the regime. But they were not directly responsible for the barbaric camps and ghettos. "That doesn't excuse them," Ms. Appel said. "It was ter- rible for me to have it all confirmed." She also discovered the identity of the Jewish stranger: Willi Meyer. Although Ms. Appel believes he is dead, she is still searching for his American son with the same name. Recently she contacted one of the neighbors who helped hide Willi during the war. "There's still a lot of anti-Semitism in Germany," Ms. Ap- pel said. "She kept telling me I was lucky I got away. She lives like an outcast because she helped the Jews." Liesel's new Jewish friends urged her to visit her mother to make her healing complete. The two spoke several times on the phone, but Else Steffens died before Liesel made up her mind to see her. "One of the last things she said to me was, 'You've always been a good person,' " Ms. Appel said softly. "I cried for a whole day. I believe she admitted that I had done the right thing and she had done the wrong thing. I think I would have forgiven her if she had said that sooner." Encouraged by people's reactions at the seminar, Liesel published a short autobiography in the Los Angeles Times. For weeks hundreds of people called the newspaper office and her home to offer support and tell their own tales of sur- vival. And for the first time, her children learned part of the truth about her. "I always knew there was something about my mother that was very closed in," said Hugh Scotland, 30. "I was very surprised, but I was also very glad she got it out. She was more at peace with herself, and things really came around for us as a family." There were negative calls, too — hate messages and threats from neo-Nazis who insisted the Holocaust had nev- er happened. Someone even found out Liesel did not have a green card and tried to have her deported. But those re- sponses were few and far between. In 1989 Liesel enrolled in an introductory Judaism course. She wanted to understand the religion that helped people survive the concentration camps. A year later she converted at the University Synagogue in Los Angeles. "It was like a revelation for me," she said. "I felt like I was coming home." That same year Liesel married Don Appel, a retired in- surance agency owner, and returned to South Florida. Ms. Appel's brother, Fritz, who still lives in Germany, brushed off her conversion as a "phase." They rarely speak. But her eyes brighten as she describes her favorite parts of being Jewish. "I love the way women are treated. I love all the cere- monies and traditions. I love Shabbat. I love the strong sense of identity. I love being God's chosen people but still having to work hard for the betterment of everyone," she gushed. `My Life Is Not My Own Anymore' T wo years ago Ms. Appel briefly returned to Germany with her husband. She was surprised by how little things had changed. "They all still remembered my family," she said. "But I felt like a stranger there. I feel no attachment to Germany." She is writing a book about her experiences and spent nine months drafting an autobiographical screenplay that was optioned by Warner Brothers. She lectures in the com- munity about "The Other Side of Holocaust" and encour- ages Jews to let go of their hate for her country "I am not suggesting we should forget. But if we look for revenge, we are no better than Hitler himself," she said. "The only way to ensure there will never be another Hitler is to teach our children love." Rabbi Allan Freehling, who officiated at Ms. Appel's con- version ceremony and second marriage, calls his former pupil "miraculous." "Judaism is part of Liesel's very fiber," he said. "It's there in her energy, her intellect, her wonderful sense of spiritu- ality. She gives us all reason to believe we can learn from our experiences and overcome anything in our paths." "My life is not my own anymore," she said. "I have no am- bition to be famous. But when I see what it does to people when I tell them my story, I have to tell it again, even though it is hard for me. This is the intimate story of a family that was destroyed," she continued. "It also shows how my gen- eration feels. We are also victims of our parents. And there are many, many more stateless, homeless wanderers like me out there." 0