Adolfo Kaminsky: A Forger's Life
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Sarah Kaminsky. Adolfo Kaminsky: A Forger's Life
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For Leïla
WHEN I WAS LITTLE I knew nothing about the story of my father’s life. I was the youngest of three children. As far as I could see, I had a father like everyone else’s, who always taught me to obey the law. At home he never talked about his earlier life, when he’d been a forger. There was one episode, however, that should have made me think. One day I got a poor grade at school. I was absolutely determined to conceal it from my parents. I decided to forge my mother’s signature; I’d never have dared to try and copy my father’s, it’s absolutely impossible to forge. I practiced for a long time on draft paper before setting about it carefully. Later on my mother happened to come across my notebook and immediately realized that the signature was forged. I really got yelled at. Ashamed of myself, I took refuge in my bed. When my father arrived home from work, he came to my bedroom. Expecting the worst, to be hauled over the coals as never before, I hid under the blankets. He sat down on the side of the bed, my notebook in his hand, and simply burst out laughing. He laughed so much he couldn’t stop. Puzzled, I poked my head out of the sheets. Looking at me with a big smile on his face, he declared, “But at least you could have made it a better one, Sarah. Look at this signature, how tiny it is!” Then he went away, laughing uproariously.
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“How many?”
“How many children? … More than three hundred.”
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