4 | JANUARY 20 • 2022 

PURELY COMMENTARY

essay
I Called Her Aunt Anna
T

he stories behind how 
Jewish families bond 
with those of other 
religions have always fascinated 
me. 
I grew up in 
an Orthodox, 
then later 
Conservative 
Jewish family. 
My parents were 
very close with 
a woman from 
a Greek Orthodox family. Her 
name was Anna, but I loved 
her so much and felt so close 
to her, I always called her Aunt 
Anna. 
She came into my family 
when my dad joined a 
partnership with three brothers 
who were in the restaurant 
supply business. She was the 
secretary. 
My dad told me the story 
that Aunt Anna and one of 
the brothers, Eddie, were 
very much in love. But it was 
not to be. Eddie was from an 
Orthodox Jewish family; Anna 
was from an Orthodox Greek 
family. 
Eddie was my dad’s best 
friend. They went everywhere 
together. 
One day in 1946 my dad and 
Eddie were doing errands. It 
was a quick visit to a doctor’s 
office where Eddie was 
having a checkup. As they 
were leaving, Eddie started to 
breathe heavily and grabbed 
his chest. He died hours later 
of a heart attack. He was in his 
early 30s. 
My parents and Aunt Anna 
never got over Eddie’s death. 
My dad told me he promised 
Eddie to look after Aunt Anna 
for the rest of her life. And he 

did. Aunt Anna never married, 
and she was very close to our 
family until she passed away at 
90 in 2012. 
Aunt Anna was there when I 
was born and attended almost 
every event that happened in 
my life. She told me lots of 
funny stories about her family 
the whole time I was growing 
up. When it was time to go 
away to college, she took me 
clothes shopping. I had eight 
real aunts, but Aunt Anna was 
always there for me. 
She was about 5’4”
, had dark 
brown curly hair, big wide 
brown eyes that twinkled and 
a big smile. She was always 
dressed beautifully, and I loved 
her perfume. She was very 
special to me. 
She was one of five daughters 
in a very close Greek Orthodox 
family. I remember visiting 
her parents’ house when I was 
a little girl. The desserts and 
all the specialty dishes I tasted 
were so delicious. The family 
was warm and welcoming. 
It was like being in a Jewish 
home. When I was very young, 
I remember one time going 
to church with her. I was 
awestruck with the colorful 
windows and high ceilings 
— very beautiful, but very 
different from the synagogue I 
was used to. 
Aunt Anna always made a 
big deal on my birthday. I still 
have some of her beautiful 
gifts that I treasure. She was 
so caring, a good listener and 
supportive — even sometimes 
when my very own parents 
wouldn’t listen. And I always 
felt that she missed so much in 
life because she never married. 
She was very active in the 

Greek church. In fact, she 
worked in the church for many 
years before she came to work 
for my dad. I always thought 
she would have made such a 
great mother, wife, etc. I always 
felt I was the daughter that 
Aunt Anna never had. 
After my dad passed away, 
my mom came to Detroit 
to live in an assisted living 
development. I discovered that 
Aunt Anna moved to a senior 
living complex, so I got Aunt 
Anna and my mom together 
for several phone calls. But 
then they suddenly stopped, 
and we were unable to connect. 
I found out from her family 
that she passed away in 2012 — 
six months before my mother. 

A LONG-HELD SECRET
Fast forward to 2013 when I 
was in my office, and I received 
a phone call from Aunt Anna’s 
nephew who I hadn’t heard 
from for years. We exchanged 
greetings and then he told 
me his whole family couldn’t 
figure out why my parents and 
Aunt Anna were so close. I told 
him I was sorry she had never 
married and that I missed her. 
I was sorry that my mom and 
I couldn’t come to her funeral 
because mom couldn’t make 
the trip.
He hesitated. He cleared 
his throat. Then he just 
divulged that Aunt Anna and 
Eddie found out that she was 
pregnant in 1943. Aunt Anna 
went to another state, had the 
baby and brought it back with 
her. The baby was adopted 
by a family two years later. 
She grew up in a wonderful 
Jewish family, went to college 
and married a great guy — a 

doctor. He told me where they 
lived in Akron but didn’t have 
any contact information. Her 
name was Susan Schwartz and 
her husband’s name was Barry. 
I was numb and 
dumbfounded. I couldn’t 
believe it. Why had my parents 
not told me about this? The 
baby was one year younger 
than me, so had we played 
together as infants? Where 
could I find her — and what 
would I say to her? Was she 
brought up Jewish? Greek? 
Where was she and what did 
she look like? Did she ever try 
to find her birth mother, and 
did she ever contact her? 
After I collected myself, I 
looked up the name — and 
there it was! 
I called the number and left 
a message. “I don’t know how 
to start this, but my parents 
and your birth mother were 
best friends, and I never knew 
about you. Please call me. I 
would like to know all about 
you. Your mother was my 
second mother. This all is a big 
shock to me.” 
About an hour later, the 
phone rang. The woman on the 
other end sounded just like my 
Aunt Anna. I had a lump in my 
throat. I couldn’t believe it was 
not her. Her voice and the way 
she pronounced her words was 
uncanny. 
That was the moment Susan 
came into my life. 
Susan and I exchanged 
stories. We laughed and we 
cried. She told me she had 
tried several times to reach 
Aunt Anna. She even brought 
flowers to her on one occasion, 
but Aunt Anna said she knew 
who she was, and she could not 

Sandy 
Hermanoff

