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June 28, 2002

A Canadian survivor's tribute

New book by Steve Floris is a monument to his wife, love and freedom.
PAT JOHNSON REPORTER

Escape From Pannonia: A tale of two survivors
By Steve Floris
Creative Connections Publishing, Vancouver, 2002. 159 pages. $19.95


As Canada Day approaches, I am reminded that the most eloquent statements of citizenship seem to come from Canadians-by-choice. One of the most beautiful examples of this phenomenon I have encountered is the new book Escape from Pannonia: A Tale of Two Survivors, by Vancouverite Steve Floris.

Floris and his wife, Eva, were perhaps best known in Vancouver as the proprietors for many years of the Ferguson Point Tea House in Stanley Park, though both had successful (and longer) careers in real estate.

The pair met before the war in their native Budapest and the book is a testimony to their decades of shared love of each other and of Canada.

But it is also an articulate firsthand history of modern Europe extrapolated through the experiences of two unique individuals.

Even interesting lives could be rendered banal in the wrong hands. Floris is an excellent writer and gifted raconteur. The details he includes are evocative and, since he never mentions keeping a journal, particularly remarkable.

Floris recounts his early years in Hungary, where he lived the proverbial life of childish insouciance. Even as Hitler's shadow moved across Europe, Floris was selected by the fascist-leaning government of Hungary to join a cadre of students on a visit to Mussolini's Italy: a strategic effort to forge greater ties between the two states.

When he graduated from high school in 1938, there were few prospects for Jews in the professions. Parents were encouraging their children to learn a trade and Floris found himself an apprentice in his uncle's pastry shop and candy factory, learning skills he would later attribute with saving his life.

Floris recounts many brushes with fate encountered by himself and his wife. That the two lived a long and happy life together was a thankful miracle, as the book depicts a series of horrific incidents which they were both lucky to survive.

One of the first was Eva's seemingly miraculous escape from the notorious 1941 massacre by Nazi-affiliated gendarmes in the Yugoslavian town of Novi Sad, in which thousands of Jews, Gypsies, Serbs and others were murdered on the frozen Danube River.

In 1943, Floris was forced to join a labor battalion where he was intended to do gruelling work. But his talents in the kitchen were soon recognized and, though he still had to work all his waking hours, he was never short of food. This led him to be transferred to another battalion and, fortuitous as the new job was, the story gets more remarkable. The day after his transfer, his former battalion was trapped by advancing Russian forces. Most were killed on the spot. The survivors were sent to Siberia.

When Floris's luck finally appeared to run out and he found himself in a work camp in Austria in 1944, he at least arrived in relatively good health, which probably accounted for his ultimate survival.

As the Allies advanced, Floris's captors chose to move their prisoners and Floris was boarded onto a cattle car. At Krems, in Austria, the train was forced to stop because the track had been bombed. At that late point in the war, much of the infrastructure in Nazi-controlled Europe was in tatters. The transfer of prisoners often required train travel, interspersed with marching to a place where the tracks were intact.

Parallel to the railway tracks at Krems was a main east-west road, which was crowded with refugees on foot, travelling from one part of Europe to another as borders and occupying forces changed. Incredibly, Floris was able to escape his Nazi guards and join the legions on foot. Through a series of ingenious disguises and creative frauds, he managed to make his way back to Budapest. One might think the end of the war would have facilitated this return home, but the fact that the Soviets were occupying Hungary made his return almost impossible.
When he did arrive home just after the end of the war, he found his mother and his beloved Eva had both survived.

Freed of Nazism, they now found themselves under the yoke of communism which, as several incidents in the book brilliantly illuminate, was hardly more sympathetic to Jewish citizens. The Florises managed to make their way to Austria and got good jobs working for the American Joint Distribution Committee – "The Joint" – which was the primary North American agency helping Jewish survivors in Europe.

Yet, like so many survivors, the couple wanted to escape the memories of Europe and find a new life elsewhere. Eventually, they were admitted to Canada and landed in Winnipeg. Astonished by the climate, but astutely attuned to gossip, the Florises made a rash decision to head for the West Coast on what appears to be a whim.

"One day, my wife told me of a conversation she overheard between a hairdresser and a customer at the beauty parlor," Floris writes. " 'I listed my house for sale a year ago because we want to move to B.C. and not a bite yet!' said the customer. 'What do you think,' replied the hairdresser, 'if I could sell this crummy business wouldn't I be in Vancouver in an instant!' This conversation convinced us that the right thing to do would be to leave Winnipeg right way, before we acquired any worldly goods, business commitments or real estate that we probably would not be able to unload in a hurry. From then on we saved all our money for two bus tickets to Vancouver."

The couple's lives in Vancouver seem to have been fairly idyllic. They managed the iconic Ferguson Point Tea House through its hey-days in the 1950s and '60s, then entered the booming Vancouver real estate market. They travelled, including trips back to Europe and the old neighborhood – trips which were occasionally marred by encounters with still-vibrant anti-Semitism in eastern Europe.

The Floris love affair ended tragically, in a horrific accident in 2000 on Granville Island, when the car they were driving plunged into False Creek. Rescue workers were able to pull Steve Floris from the water, but his beloved Eva was lost.

The book, though, is a monumental tribute to their love and to their part in the cataclysmic history and enormous potential of the 20th century. It is also a cri de coeur by a Canadian who admires the country that provided him with refuge after an early life of horror.

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