"But they make it sound worse than it was."

For two years as an undergrad at UT Austin, my roommate was a girl named Heather Donavon. We got along really well, which is why we opted to room together for two years. I think we got on because we were both only children and understood the whole don't-touch-my-stuff mentality that comes with that. But whatever the reason, those were two good years--even despite the neighbor who played Madonna (particularly the Evita soundtrack--the club mix) repeatedly, loudly, late at night.

Anyway, one thing I remember (out of many) is that Heather was part Jewish, although she hadn't been raised in the faith. And at one point Schindler's List was aired on television with no commercials, and I came in to find Heather crying as she watched it. She asked me about some of the history, and we discussed it for a while. But then she talked with her boyfriend Jimmy on the phone, and Jimmy had this supposedly consoling outlook: "They make it sound worse than it really was."

Eh?

Now Jimmy was a great guy. Hey, he was the one who called to tell me to tune into The Pretender--his exact words were something like, "There's this show I think you'd like on Channel 5 right now." Turned out to be the pilot, and Jimmy was right, I loved it. So I don't know where his POV on the Holocaust was coming from, exactly. It was just a jarring moment, one that stands clear for me.

I eventually encouraged Heather to call and actually talk to her mom (her Jewish parent). Which I believe she did, and that seemed to make her feel better. I know I also, later that year, gave Heather a signed copy of Anne Rice's Servant of the Bones. I didn't have much knowledge or understanding of Judaism myself back then, seeing as how I'd only ever met two Jewish people (that I knew of): Heather--who was only half Jewish anyway, and knew less than I did--and the girl I'd been placed with during college orientation, a girl (I forget her name) who, coincidentally enough, was from Boston. I let her taste my Big Red, which she found to be awful. To this day, though, I am the only person I know who drinks Big Red. . . I don't know how that soft drink stays in business. . .

Obviously, I know more Jewish people now, namely my husband and his family and their friends. I've enjoyed learning about their history and culture and religion. And I do sometimes wonder what ever happened to Heather, whether she married Jimmy (there had been a certain expectation that they were headed that direction).