I went around for years and years plagued by the fact that I really had very little memory of anything that happened to me before I stepped off the ship, when I was not quite eleven, and landed in New York and walked down this wooden pier. And that used to be my memory of when my life really started. And this plagued me. It really drove me crazy. And I was I think in my forties, when I finally, and I will say ‘got the nerve’, because I thought about this for a long time. And I asked my mother to tell me what happened. What happened to me, to my sisters? What was my life like? Tell me everything.