Luck

In Inside Out Bernstein’s story made me increasingly aware of how lucky he was, particularly during the wartime. The way Bernstein writes about period in his life makes it seem as if he floats from one lucky event to another, with little struggle in between. A few examples of the luck he encountered are:
He obtained the first interview with Tito (115)
The lieutenant offered to move Walter to safety; “…they said if I wished, they would spirit me out of Drvar and then anywhere else I wanted to go,” (117)
He was caught and transported to Bari where, “He said the British were not turning me over to the SBS here in Bari-the normal procedure- because they didn’t want to see me terrorized,” (119).
He avoided possible death, “I heard that the day after I left Drvar, the Germans had dropped two paratroop battalions into the valley…I felt sad and lucky,” (121).
He was not sent back to war, “My new assignment was to cover the invasion…I never got to the Pacific…I was discharged,” (129).
He did not have trouble finding a job when he returned from war, “When I went to pay my respects to Ross, he assumed I had returned to work for the magazine and gave me an office and a small drawing account,” (132).
He went to the concert, and escaped without a hospital visit or an arrest, “We got through finally and headed back to the city, picking broken glass out of our hair. I don’t know how many concertgoers were hurt…there were also broken arms and fractured skulls,” (149).
All of the above examples made me think about just how much disaster and turmoil Bernstein had avoided. I kept turning the page wondering if at some point his break was going to end. Then, while he was discussing how he made money during the early days of his blacklisting Bernstein wrote, “I believed there was not a raffle I would not win…Every time the phone rang, I thought it was either my winning ticket or the FBI,” (168). Honestly, it just seemed too good to be true (not the FBI part of course) but he would win the lotteries he entered. Then, Bernstein had trouble finding a front and I began to feel like maybe he would provide more information on the struggle he underwent. At this point, Bernstein wrote, “Then—just when the landlord, giving up on me, sternly issued an ultimatum: Either buy the house or pay the rent—I found a front,” (186). Yet another break!
The blacklist was in no way lucky, and I am not arguing that Bernstein had an easy life, but his recollections certainly seem to show that luck was on his side for at least part of his life.