Life
& Chess... coincidences & memories
(
Author: ©
Eugene
Salomon )
To
a degree, the title of this article reflects my life –
90 years of coincidences. I spent nineteen years in my
native
Spain
, thirteen years in
Cuba
and fifty-eight years in the
United States of America
. Weaving together a chess passion of 75 years with a
65-year career in business, a great wife of 57 years and
the treasure of four children and seven grandchildren led
to a lot of beautiful memories.
Oftentimes,
as Ling Yutang wrote so well, our lives are like leaves
blown from place to place by stormy winds. In my case, I
feel like a drop of water in the large ocean of immigrants
that may die any given day proud of their heritage and
equally as proud of the fruits that they are leaving
behind.
As
Einstein would say, "Coincidence is God's way of
remaining anonymous". Writing this article is a sheer
coincidence and can't stop asking myself: Is there any
meaning behind all the "coincidences" in my
life?
I
guess when one reaches 90 years of age and is fortunate
enough to have a clear mind, it’s not strange to look
back at your life and find all kind of
"coincidences", perhaps treasured as
"memories".
How
it all started... by sheer coincidence
Luncheon
in Alekhine's honor (1944). Salomon is on left upper
corner. The child on the right is Arturito Pomar
It
was 1895 when my father, Robert Salomon was born in Metz, then a part of
Germany. In 1914 a few months before the First World War that he
arrived in Gijón, with a management trainee position at the large German company AEG
.
It
was also in 1895 when my mother, Juana Rugarcia, was born
in Cárdena, Cuba, then a part of
Spain. Shortly after the Spanish-American war, my maternal
grandfather returned to his native Asturias, in
Spain, with his wife and 5 children as one of the
thousands of "Indianos" – this was the
Spanish name for the immigrants who, after making a small
fortune in Latin America, returned to Spain.
I
guess the above explains how by coincidence I was born in
Gijón, where I had the privilege of learning to play chess with
my father, my uncle and even a world champion, Alexander
Alekhine.
Perhaps
chess was in my genes. My first teacher was my father, who
between games would
tell me about his experiences and philosophy of life.
After him, I learned valuable lessons from my uncle
Casimiro Rugarcia. He was a true poet. Always in search of
beauty in chess: combinations! Could my rapid progress in
chess be due to any genetic influence? I don’t think so.
I believe the main reason, was the degree of passion for
chess both my father and my uncle instilled in me. Of
course, the lucky coincidence of having met and
played against Alekhine didn’t hurt either.
I
fell in love with Alekhine’s games and the sheer
poetry of his style. As an example, I would suggest to any
interested reader to go over the 1922 game
Bogoljubow-Alekhine and the pure poetry of not once, but
twice seeing a pawn reach the seventh rank. No wonder one
of the great, modern champions, Kasparov, wrote: "I
was enormously influenced by Alekhine's play. I admired
the refinement of his ideas, and I tried as far as
possible to imitate his furious attacking style".
A
few days after my 90th birthday, while preparing a
"farewell lecture" for my Toms River Chess Club,
my mind flew back to the beginning. It all started in Gijón, in 1941, as it was still bleeding from the tragic civil
war. My father and I had not seen each other since before
July 18th, 1936 as we (his 4 children) were vacationing at my
grandparents’ home near the beach, while my parents were
in
Madrid
.
We
were not able to get together after that vacation as my
father, quite prudently decided to leave Spain
for France, where a cousin had offered him a job and where, being
Republican he would feel much safer. Life in the
neighboring country turned out to be not that safe as,
after the Nazi invasion, he was hunted by the Gestapo
after escaping a concentration camp.
He
survived in the “San Juan de Luz” area giving chess
and language lessons. Finally, after being denied entry in
to Spain because he lacked the proper documentation, he
decided to enter illegally, crossing the Pyrenees. This landed him in a concentration camp for the
“undocumented”. In the camp he taught several of his
fellow inmates how to play chess and, in the process,
chess made life more bearable.
When
we met again after almost 5 years, we played chess for
hours. I guess that in an effort to "bond"
with his youngest child he decided to use chess as a
vehicle and we spent countless hours each evening
playing chess and sharing stories of his life. He is
my life hero. Three short years later, in 1944, in Gijón, I met my chess hero, Alekhine.
I
guess that repeating a positive experience, and following
the example of my father, I was trying to bond with my
three boys using chess as a tool. We used to travel to Philadelphia
to the "World Open. "For my kids it was a
real treat – not necessarily the chess, but going to
their favorite "McDonald’s" or "Burger
King" for lunch and for dinner three days in a row!
In 1980, I decided to enter a family team in the U.S Team
Tournament.
That’s
how “King Salomon and his Three Knights” team was
born, comprised of my 3 sons and myself. Son Robbie, 4th Board
at age 7 was interviewed by a reporter. When asked a
number of questions, the answer was always “Yep!”
until finally he was asked: “Do you know what
concentration means?” Robbie replied: “Yes, you sit on
your hands and shut up!”
From
learning in Asturias to teaching in New Jersey
I
have vivid memories from my five main chess clubs: El
Casino in Gijón
and The Maudes of Madrid in the 1940’s;
The Capablanca Chess Club in Havana during the early 1950’s; The Westfield Chess Club during
the 1970’s and 1980’s; and my present club, The Toms
River Chess Club. It is indeed surprising the coincidences
and parallel experiences that I treasure in my chess life.
Going
back to memory lane and 1942, before Alekhine’s arrival
in Gijón, I clearly remember traveling to
Oviedo with the Casino’s team, under Felix de las Heras,
the famous chess organizer. Four years later I had the
honor and the pleasure of becoming a member of
Castille’s team champion with the Maudes. Six years
later I had the same pleasurable experience being a member
of Havana’s team champion. Many years later I would be a key
player in the Westfield Chess Club run by a most
remarkable chess organizer: Dennis Barry. Here I am in
2018 next to another great chess organizer, Steve Shoshin,
who welcomed my offer to give simultaneous exhibitions and
lectures to help his group of young players.
No
doubt, I thought my last lecture should be in Toms
River and I should share the lessons about chess and life
that I learned as a child. At age 90, I feel a debt of
gratitude towards my three TEACHERS as well as to CHESS.
|
|
Félix
de las Heras
|
Steve
Doyle |
Memories
of the coincidences and parallel experiences in some of my
five clubs are truly remarkable: Felix de las Heras, in
1944 initiated the Gijon International Tournaments which
he organized for 21 years. Later on, he became President
of the Spanish Chess Federation and a Vice-President of
FIDE. Several decades later, here we are on the other side
of theAtlantic at the Toms River Chess Club, ready to
start my lecture and the person introducing me, Steve
Doyle is like a replica of Felix. For the last 30 years,
Steve, has organized the U.S. Amateur Team Tournament
–an event with more than 800 players!- For years he was
also a Vice-President of FIDE and the President of the U.S
Chess Federation!
What
made this lecture a remarkable one is that, as a surprise,
the club converted the conference into a birthday party.
The president of the club, Steve Shoshin, invited my
friend Steve Doyle -who founded the club 54 years ago- to
introduce me. They would hear us talk about how
our chess lives had crisscrossed over the years
–from the early 1970's and our mutual friend –the
legendary chess organizer Dennis Barry at the Westfield
Chess Club –to the end of the 90's when he published my
game against Russian Master Lenar Murzin from the 1998
World Open in Philadelphia in his chess column in New
Jersey's Star Ledger newspaper. And as fate would
have it, here I was using that game in my conference: Salomon
- Murzin.
Surprise
Cake to celebrate the lecturer 90th Birthday
That
Murzin game is one of my favorite memories. At age 70 and
retiring from chess competition, I had the good fortune of
still creating a "small chess poem." Yes! There
is poetry in chess as I learned from my second
teacher, my uncle, the poet chess player and Alekhine's
doctor – Dr. Casimiro Rugarcia.
In his
remarks, Steve Doyle, thanked me – after 30+ years –
for having introduced him to my close friend Roman Toran
back in the mid 1980's when, as President of the U.S.
Chess Federation, he was traveling to Geneva for a FIDE
meeting. Their relationship had not only been cordial but
quite constructive over the years when they worked
together at FIDE.
Steve
Doyle also informed the audience that I was not the oldest
lecturer at the Club. The famous Edward Lasker had presented
a lecture at age 92, so I promised the club that I would
return in three years if they invite me!
By
chance, Spain discovers a chess player of the 1940's
Eugene
and youngest grandson Ben, his good chess student and
better i-Phone teacher
When
I left Madrid for Havana in November 1947 (over 70 years ago!) I could play
as an equal with the best players of the time, as
illustrated by more than a dozen games won against Juan
Manuel Fuentes, Román Torán, F.J. Pérez, Julio Ganzo and
Antonio Medina. At the same time, however, I was the least
known among the good players of the time.
Throughout
the years, chess was out of my life twice. Once for 16
years! Yet, I was still able to play more than 100
tournaments and close to 1000 games. I fondly remember
games where I planned and played the endgame – my
favorite phase of the game – well. To plan the endgame
well is as important in chess as it is in business or in
life! The next section contains a few examples of endings
that I enjoyed.
After
retiring from chess tournaments, the coincidences
continued - sometimes in an amazing fashion. During the
last couple of years some things happened that I feel I
should share. It is all related to the book I wrote some
3-4 years ago together with my old friends Steve Pozarek
and Wayne Conover: “40 Years of Friendship – 100 Games
of Chess”.
A
few months later, at age 88, I decided to get my first
iPhone. Teaching me to "navigate" in these
frustrating new waters was my youngest grandson, Ben. It
was fitting, as a couple of years earlier I had helped him
when he was ready to play his first chess scholastic
tournament at age 8.
Three
generations using the same pieces that Alekhine played
with in Gijon 1944
Two
years ago, with my co-author’s blessings, I authorized
Javier Cordero to publish on the internet, free of charge,
my story, as he thought it could be of public interest to
his readers in Spain, on a non-profit historical
chess website.
At
about the same time, I got a message from the well-known
Spanish writer Miguel-Ángel Nepomuceno asking if I would
be interested in an interview and possible articles about
my life. What an honor, I thought. And what a coincidence.
An honor because Miguel-Ángel is a well-known
historian/biographer. A coincidence because I knew
about Miguel-Ángel's chess mastery from
some 40 – 50 years ago when Pablito Morán had talked to
me about him. As it turns out, my wife Beatrice and I
were scheduled for a vacation in Spain a few weeks later, so we agreed to meet at the
"Petit Palace" hotel in
Madrid the first week of April 2018.
Insofar
as coincidences, it was hard to believe. He had heard a
lot about me – more than 40 years ago – from our
mutual friend Pablo Morán and my family’s friend,
Professor Juan Fernández Rua – with whom I had played
in the Casino many times. Juan, Miguel-Ángel and Pablo
were close friends from their days in Asturias
where they shared their passion for chess. The parallels
between Miguel-Ángel’s life and mine were uncanny. Like
him, I had started my career in medicine and had changed.
We both shared many other interests and even the same
birthday – albeit 20 years apart.
Pablo
Morán in 1951
As
my co-author Steve Pozarek wrote in the Epilogue to our
book: "The spirit of Alekhine runs through this
book" and perhaps the spirit of The Genius as
well as the one of Pablito Morán were smiling some place
as Miguel-Angel and I compared notes.
The meeting
with Miguel-Ángel – a three hour taped interview
– along with dozens of e-mail and phone messages was
not just the origin of the articles for Zenda, but the
beginning of a friendship that I cherish. It is
seldom in life that one has the chance of making a new
true friendship at an advanced age.
As
I see it, Javier Cordero and his internet site Historia
del Ajedrez Español “discovered” me and
Miguel-Ángel and his articles in Zenda helped me
live again and to enjoy my 75 years of chess
memories.
A
curious or unbelievable anecdote to end this article:
several months ago, I received an e-mail from a distant
cousin, a strong chess player in Germany, congratulating me for the article he had just read
on Zenda. Apparently, a lady in Perú had sent
the article to Kasparov via tweet. Kasparov then
re-tweeted it to his followers – about 387,000 strong as
I understand!
Eugene
showing to Kasparov his 1944
picture with Alekhine
during
the U.S Amateur Team Tournament 2014
Eugene
Salomon
(December
17, 2018)
|