Wartime hero
Volunteer showed that our actions can make a difference in the lives of children.
Nicholas Winton saved more than 650 Jewish children on the eve of World War II. This hero who did not want to be considered heroic died last week at 106.
A dedicated volunteer, he had much in common with effective and self-effacing volunteers through the ages.
Winton, a British stock broker, went on a spur of the moment trip to Czechoslovakia in December 1938. There, he observed refugees from the territory occupied by Germany living in squalid conditions. War seemed inevitable. Other groups were working to save more prominent Jewish citizens, but Winton realized no one was working to help Czech children.
Like so many natural leaders, Winton acted on his idea without a government grant or the approval of any organization. Enlisting his mother and a few others, he created the children’s section of the British Committee for Refugees from Czechoslovakia. Winton believed, “Let’s not spend too long agonizing about stuff. Let’s get it done,” his daughter Barbara told the Associated Press.
Like many volunteers today, Winton battled bureaucracy — in his case, his challenge was with Britain and Czechoslovakia to get children on a plane and trains to England, where he recruited foster families for them. Winton also had to overcome the inevitable shortage of resources that confronts goodhearted people whenever they attempt to help the most vulnerable. His lament, as the AP reported, will sound familiar to many: “Maybe a lot more could have been done. But much more time would have been needed, much more help would have been needed from other countries, much more money would have been needed, much more organization.”
Donors provided some funding, but Winton relied heavily on his own pocket.
His efforts were not a complete success. Not all of the children transported to Great Britain were well-treated. Some were forced to work as domestic servants. But they all survived, according to Winton. About 250 children, the largest group, were on board the last train when Germany invaded Poland. That train did not make it out; none of those children was seen again.
Winton did not seek attention or praise. In fact, the story was not well-known until decades after the war, when his wife found a scrapbook in their attic containing dusty photos and documents. Winton then recounted the story.
Like so many volunteers for schools and nonprofit organizations — not to mention educators, social workers and juvenile justice officers — who work tirelessly help keep Houston’s children safe, Winton enjoyed a reward more meaningful than celebrity. He understood that his actions made a difference in the lives of children.