In the summer of 1968, the Prague Spring was underway in Czechoslovakia and Dubček had loosened enough restrictions that ordinary people could get passports and travel to the West. Because of that, I invited my sister to come visit me and paid for her trip. I picked her up at the airport in my Mustang — a used one, about a year old, but I was proud of it. The first thing she told me when she got in the car was that she was here only for a vacation and had no intention of staying, since life in Czechoslovakia was much better under Dubček. I assured her I had no intention of trying to persuade her to stay, and I meant it.

We had a great time. On weekends I took her on trips to show her the country. She wanted to see New York, and I warned her that I did not like New York — it reminded me of a concrete jungle. But she also knew my friend Bohous from Prague and wanted to see him, since Bohous had emigrated through Austria and settled in Manhattan. He loved New York; he could live there because he had no fear. He was physically very strong and was not afraid of anyone, though in that neighborhood he carried a concealed knife for his own defense.

We drove down in the Mustang and Bohous showed us around the city. When we came back to his apartment, there was a restaurant across the street and a police car parked in front of it with 2 policemen sitting inside. I parked my Mustang right in front of them and we went up to Bohous’s apartment for no more than 5 minutes. When we came back down, the police car was still there behind my Mustang, but my passenger door was standing wide open and everything my sister had left on the back seat — all her clothing — was gone. There were people in front of the restaurant who had to have seen it happen. I went to the policemen and asked how this could happen with them sitting right there. They told me they had taken a quick ride around the block and it must have happened then. They were not interested in investigating; they told me it would be a waste of time, got in their car, and left. It took time to replace my sister’s wardrobe. I learned the hard way never to leave anything visible inside a car.

The lesson I took from that trip was a broader one — that in the USA you can show someone how great the country is and how bad it can be, sometimes on the same day.