Ethel Dimont is a lecturer and author. In 1962 she co-author Jews, God and History, along with her husband Max I. Dimont, which received critical acclaim and has sold almost 3 million copies which the Los Angeles Times praised as, "unquestionably the best popular history of the Jews written in the English language". Because of the success of the book, Ethel, along with her husband Max, has traveled the world over, having met with heads of state such as David Ben Gurion, Menachem Begin, Martin Buber and several other Arab Middle Eastern leaders. In 1972 a car accident changed the focus of Ethel’s life. An improperly diagnosed closed head injury caused a slow erosion of her health. She has now authored a book The Hidden Injury, which takes you through the struggles of living with a misdiagnosis, to finding the correct information that can help deal with the recovery of a head injury." Ethel is a native of New York City, but moved to St. Louis, Missouri after her marriage to Max in 1946, (now deceased). Her daughter, son-in-law, three grandsons, two great grand-daughters and one great grandson, still live in New York City.
Ethel once said--
It Only Took a Moment
By Ethel Dimont
Published in Facets of Love
Missouri State Poetry Society 2009
War and fate seem to work in tandem, and for me it happened during WWII. I was a divorcee, with a two-year old daughter, trying to keep body and soul together. My circumstances forced me to move back in with my parents and start looking for a job. It was at this time of my life that I got an invitation to go on a blind date with a GI who was on a two day pass before shipping overseas to Nazi controlled Europe.
All the other guys had a date except Max, so another GI friend told him to call Ethel Kurzfeld to see if she would accompany him. My strong rejection of, “I don’t go out on blind dates!” stimulated his insistence to change my mind, never realizing how this one decision would change both our lives. If at first you don’t succeed, try – try – try again, and he did. The next time he called I was not home, so he left a message with my mother that said he would be by at 5: 30 to pick me up. Here’s where fate must have worked her magic, I have no idea to this day what made me say yes, instead of throwing him out on his ear, but I did and we had a lovely time.
As it turned out the ship coming to take his troop to Europe sank on its way back to the United States, so his two day pass turned into a three day pass, and our one blind date turned into several dates. A new ship came to take the men to war and I never expected to hear from him again, but I was wrong. Before he had even arrived in Europe, I received a letter from him, saying:
Dear Ethel: When I return, if we still feel the same way, I will ask you to marry me.
Love, Max
Eleven months later, he returned, asked for my hand in marriage, and our wedding was the beginning of a 47-year successful, creative, productive marriage. My daughter fell as madly in love with Max as I had, and Max adored Gail as much as she did him. He never permitted anyone to call her his step-daughter. Theirs is another kind of love story.
During our time together Max wrote five books. Jews, God and History, became a classic, selling over 2 million copies to date. I helped edit and type his manuscript almost 20 times so it would be without errors or misstatements. The success of this book opened up invitations to meet with heads of state for the newly formed country of Israel.
We received invitations to meet with David Ben Gurion, Israel’s first Prime Minister, Martin Buber, internationally recognized philosopher, and Menachem Begin, who is most noted for signing a peace treaty with Egypt in 1979. Max was also offered the privilege of lecturing at the Weizmann Institute.
Along with the four or five trips to Israel, Max and I travelled and lectured through Sweden, Finland, Norway, Denmark, Holland, Germany, England and the USA. While traveling, one of the things we enjoyed most was getting the feel for the areas we were in and collect interesting art work along the way. The walls of my home are not only lined with art work, but the memories of obtaining it.
Max died in 1992 from a heart condition. The pain in loosing Max kept me from reading the notes he had been accumulating over the years. Finally the day came when I felt strong enough to read his personal comments and notes. Imagine my surprise when I read:
“It only took three dates with Ethel, a NJG (nice Jewish girl) to know she was the one. It must have been destiny because it was about this time I too was becoming subtly aware of my need for a basic change, unable to know how or what to do to make it happen. One date told me I would marry her if she would have me, never allowing myself the luxury of thinking that she too might feel the same way.”
I had no idea he needed me as much as I thought I needed him. Had he known I would have said yes to his marriage proposal before he left for Europe, had he asked me, I wonder if he would have. I guess it is of no matter, as he was a man of his word, proposing marriage when he came home from the war. There is no way to paraphrase the rich full life we had together without missing some of the passion, hot and cold that we experienced. Forty seven years of marriage was not long enough, there was so much more to learn about Max.
Today, at the age of 92, I have been without Max for 17 years. I am thankful for the memories I have of our lives together, because they help soften the feelings of being alone. Without them, life would be less light-hearted. Who would have known that by accepting one blind date, fate would help orchestrate such a wonderful life.
