He turned in another direction and crossed the street
so as to put about ten yards between him and us. We ran toward him. Lischka
certainly must have been afraid to be photographed in the presence of people
who would ask him why on the streetcar. Perhaps he thought we would really harm
him. At any rate, he turned down a street perpendicular to the streetcar line,
quickening his pace but still keeping his dignity. Then his long legs moved
faster, and we had to film him from a distance of several yards. At this moment
there occurred the sort of thing one sees in movies. Lischka stopped, then
began to zigzag. We kept up with him, the camera turning all the while. He was
fleeing just as he had made so many of his victims do. |
I felt I was
watching a pogrom in which he was the persecuted Jew. Lischka, the once supreme
persecutor, was fleeing in his own city and down his own streets; he had
suddenly been confronted with his past.
We had filmed a remarkable
sequence that was to stir up great excitement when it was shown in Israel.