Lidia, genuinely humble, was disconcerted by the devotion she inspired in others. In a letter to Della she revealed: 'Roan writes to me often, always with great love which I really don't deserve, and seeing it, I am truly ashamed because I cannot get rid of the feeling that somehow I deceive my friends, who see meas much better than I am.'
Lidia was reluctant to leave Boston, but she had to go to Cleveland, where she had been invited to teach. The Esperantists of Cleveland were mostly young people. A group of high school and college students had worked hard to publicize the Cseh course: the foreign language papers gave Lidia generous coverage, and she was inter- viewed by the three principal newspapers of the city. At least one of these had an illustrated article ready to go to press, but it never ran; international conflict pushed it offthe page. Hitler was threatening war if the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia was not turned over to Germany. The world waited in fear as British and French diplomats, attempting to appease Hitler, agreed to his demands at the Munich Conference, naively believing the Fŭhrer's assertions that once the Sudetenland was part of the Third Reich he would have no more territorial claims in Europe. To Cleveland newspaper editors, Esperanto seemed far less deserving of newspaper space; many people thought that war in Europe was imminent.
In Cleveland, as she had done in other cities, Lidia spoke before a variety of church groups and school assemblies, which included Cleveland College, Schauffler College, Henry George School and Shaker Heights High School. As usual, she gave her lecture in Esperanto with a local Esperantist translating into English, and then, at the close of the talk, translating the questions into Esperanto for Lidia to answer. 'In spite of the rather cumbersome technique,' Dr Simon recalled, 'her talks excited considerable interest and curiosity about Esperanto.'
The Baha'f Spiritual Assembly had offered its Center in the Hippodrome Building downtown for the classroom, but once when the Baha'i Nineteen Day Feast occurred on an evening when there was an Esperanto lesson in the Baha'i Center, the Esperanto class had to be moved to the local YWCA. Charles Simon and Lidia found themselves preparing for the lesson in the room where the cooking classes were held, with, he recalled, 'numerous stoves lined up in place of desks. Leading to this classroom was an anteroom which had a Dutch door between it and the classroom. I was immediately reminded of a shop counter and, leaning on the door, I pointed out the resemblance to a store, and Miss Zamenhof immediately saw the possibilities of the situation.
"'What do you wish to buy, sir?" she asked me, pretending to be the salesperson.
'"Give me a dozen eggs, please," I requested.
"'Certainly, sir, but can you wait until the hen lays them?" she replied.'
Lidia encouraged Charles Simon to become a Cseh teacher, and on several occasions when Lidia visited the Simon home for dinner, he later recalled, 'we would spend several hours during which I would demonstrate to her various aspects of the Cseh method and she would very assiduously correct every phase of my technique. Her penetrating analysis and helpful suggestions stood me in good stead, not only in later courses which I taught in Esperanto in London and at the Sorbonne in Paris, during my Army service, but also in my own courses in French, Spanish and German during my lengthy teaching career.'
One of the Baha'fs who took the course, Mayme C. Jackson, wrote Della: 'I must say here that I would not have missed it for anything . . . I am quite sure that I voice the sentiment of the entire class . . . Miss
Zamenhof during the entire dass included some hint of the teaching so near to our hearts and I am sure we shall see the maturing of the many seeds planted during her stay.'
By mid-September Lidia had received no word from the Immigration and Naturalization Service about her request for an extension of her stay. 'In the tense times we are living through now,' she wrote Della with a touch of apprehension, 'one cannot foresee anything. All mankind is now in a terrible situation, but Baha'u'llah has all power to protect and care for those who trust in Him and tum to Him. I also place my fate in His hands, because even if I remain in America during the terrible days that are coming, my situation may be very difficult here. But we must tmst in Him, because we are powerless, and He is the All-powerful.'
Ten days passed, and still Lidia heard nothing - only four days remained before her visitor's permit would expire, but the two courses in Cleveland were just beginning. It seemed to her that, in spite of all the effort that had been expended, interest in the courses 'isn't very great'. 'I can hardly hope for anything,' she confided to Roan in a rare moment of pessimism. Later, however, she wrote one of the Esperantists that even though the Cleveland classes had only thirty- five students, 'if we consider that we had to do the major publicity, speeches, demonstration lessons, interviews in those tense last days of September, when the whole of mankind was getting ready to go to the terrible Armageddon . . . well, I think that under such circumstances, that modest number is really quite satisfactory.'
To her close friend Roan, she alluded to 'some other difficulties' not concerning her work, but she would not elaborate. 'And I realize', she wrote, 'that it is only the beginning of difficulties which will come more and more abundantly, when - But is there any remover of difficulties save God?'
The northeastern United States had just suffered the worst storm in its history, a hurricane that killed five hundred people. In Cleveland it was very hot. 'The barometer fell terribly,' Lidia wrote Roan. 'Meanwhile the sky is blue and clear, but it seems we will have a thunderstorm. Will the hurricane come here?
'I just heard a speech by Hitler on the radio . . .'
In New York, when Della inquired about Lidia's application, the officials told her simply not to worry. The day before Lidia's permit was to expire she still had heard nothing. Mountfort Mills was out of town, so Horace Holley asked Allen McDaniel, a civil engineer in Washington who was a member of the National Spiritual Assembly, to telephone the Immigration Department to find out the status of her petition 'and perhaps', Mr Holley added, 'put in a good word for her'.
"It would be a terrible thing for her to have to return to Poland.'
At last the Immigration Department's answer arrived. It was a form letter, dated September 30 — the very day Lidia's permit expired, and was signed by Byron H. Uhl, Director ofthe New York District ofthe Immigration and Naturalization Service at Ellis Island, New York. It said:
'Dear Madam:
'The Department of Labor has denied your application for an extension of your temporary admission to the United States, of seven months and three weeks.
'You are, therefore, advised that your departure should be effected not later than October 10, 1938.
'At least five days prior thereto, this office should be notified of the date, manner and place of departure. If you leave by steamer, please furnish the name thereof, date of sailing and numbers of your ticket, stateroom and berth, so that your departure may be checked to clear your record in our files for future reference.'
However, in 1981, under the Freedom of Information Act, several attempts were made to gain access to the Immigration and Naturalization's file on the case. At that time, the agency asserted it had no file on Lidia Zamenhof, and that the file probably had been destroyed.
Lidia was 'distressed and stricken' by the decision, so contrary to what she had hoped for and, indeed, expected. It came as an especially unpleasant shock since Della had just written her that the offirials had advised them not to worry. Mrs Quinlan and the others immediately began to seek a reversal, contacting Esperantists who had acquaintances in Washington. Now that she was being forced to leave, Lidia suddenly realized just how much she wanted to stay in America; she did not want to go back to Europe at all.