Running the Race One Day at a Time: A Testimony of Faith

By Boris Jeremenko

Boris Jeremenko vaguely remembers April 10, 1951—the day his ship arrived in New York Harbor from a refugee camp in Atmont, Austria. After his parents announced that the family had docked in America, six-year-old Boris traveled with his twin sister and parents to Fort Wayne, Indiana, to begin a new life.

In a fascinating memoir accompanied by historical photographs, Boris leads others into his memories of days gone by as he reflects on his inspiring journey through life, filled with highs and lows and his unwavering faith in Jesus Christ. While sharing childhood challenges that included initial language barriers as a kindergartener and his father’s alcoholism, Boris also offers a glimpse into happy moments like riding in his beloved go-kart, attending Boy Scout camp, and operating a ham radio. As he reveals how his journey eventually led him to marry, have children, and begin a career in law enforcement that would ultimately take him into the political arena, Boris reminds all of us of the power of perseverance, prayer, and a belief in God’s plan.

Running the Race One Day at a Time is the true story of an Austrian immigrant’s life experiences after he journeyed to America with his family to begin a new chapter.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781663202208

Boris Jeremenko

Boris “Buz” Jeremenko is a Vietnam Vet, husband, father, and grandfather who is retired from a lifetime of professional endeavors in law enforcement and the political arena. He resides in City, State. This is his first book.

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Copyright © 2020 Boris Buz Jeremenko.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-0136-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-0137-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-0220-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020909916

iUniverse rev. date: 05/28/2020

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

W riting my memoir has been on my bucket list for several years. Since I am a twin, it is totally from my perspective as Boris Buz Jeremenko saw and experienced it. Everything in this book is true, and I have been very forthright and openly honest in writing this book so I could expose the myths and truths about my life, be it good or bad things that happened to me and that I may have done with national notoriety. I feel this is written in my own words that I dictated to a computer with the assistance of my grandson, Isaak Jeremenko.

Some of the things that happened when we first came to this country may not be to exact detail, but thank God for the pictures that we saved throughout our lifetime because my memory is a little foggy thinking back that far. But in my mind, it is accurate, and I savor the time in my senior years. I revel in the fact that I will be spending eternity with Jesus, King of All Kings and Lord of All Lords. Hallelujah! This is my way of witnessing to as many people at once, and I hope and pray that it kindles a fire in each and every heart and leads them to the saving grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and that they see what he has done in my life can also be done in their lives as well (John 3:16).

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This book is a condensed picture/book of my life, and I present most situations with the many old pictures I have provided that correlate with the short paragraph stories about incidents that I myself was involved in. Many, especially in the chapter for the sheriff’s department memorable moments, are humorous, and I always tried to make light of any situation, be it negative or positive, and you’ll see why because I may have gone into a deep depression after Vietnam. Who knows what the outcome would have been had it not been for my faith and my beautiful wife, Jane, who helped me walk the pathways of life here on earth! Thank you, Jane, for being a blessing and a part of my life and for helping me expound on my memoir.

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It was an emotional moment for me when I arrived at the site of the refugee camp in Admont, Austria, where I was born. It is now designated as a national park.

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CHAPTER

ONE

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L et me start this book by saying my family immigrated from Admont, Austria, a refugee camp, and came to the United States as displaced persons (DPs). Several decades later, I noticed my birth certificate had a different last name. I initially wondered if Mom and Dad were married when they immigrated to the United States, but I am assuming they weren’t. That’s why my last name was Stoller because that was my mother’s maiden name, but in short order, my name was changed to Boris Jeremenko after my family came to the United States and properly resolved that issue.

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I vaguely remember April 10, 1951, when we were on the ship pulling into New York Harbor where the Statue of Liberty is located. My parents said, We are in America. I have very little or just vague memories because I was only six years old, but I do have some pronounced points that I do recall. Mom refreshed my memory in later years.

The Massachusetts Congregational Conference and Missionary Society sponsored us. As DPs, at that point, I believe Mom and Dad tried to find people from the Old Country where they were located in the United States, so we ended up in Fort Wayne, Indiana.

Mom and Dad had to help on a farm, and I believe what we stayed in was like a shed where they had to be farm laborers. I don’t know how long we stayed there, but I believe it was for a short period. My mind was foggy at this time in my life. We finally found people from Fort Wayne, Shamil and Zoya Shaturiha.

The following are various pictures from the refugee camp in Austria. Dad’s hat is like the beret of the Green Beret soldier, which meant he was a Russian Cossack elite soldier. The pictures show both Elizabeth and I as toddlers and where Dad worked in the camp. Dad sure liked convertibles back then, so I guess it was genetic for me as well.

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In my life, I experienced many highs and lows or, as in a scriptural context, many mountains and valleys. I relished the time I spent at the top of those mountains, but this world is not my home because I am just passing through. I can’t feel at home in this world anymore because I yearn for your return. Lord, I was ever so grateful that when I was in the valley, you were still with me (Matthew 28:20). Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. My confirmation verse certainly bore that fact of reality in my life. Thank you, Lord, for your blessed assurance in your Word.

At this time, we moved into a two-story apartment house on Williams Street in Fort Wayne. A mean dog lived three or four houses down from our apartment on the same side of the street. I never went past that house again because the owner let the dog run free all the time. Consequently that dog bit me. What a profound impact that made on me!

While living in the lower level at the apartment house, I could hear my father always complain about the immigrants who lived upstairs. They drank a lot, so they always argued. My father called those people who lived upstairs communists. For his whole life, he struggled with fighting communism. He saw insurrection after insurrection, the Russian Revolution, and both World Wars, so he definitely was the ultimate pessimist about humanity.

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Backyard of home on William St.

The following picture is in the backyard of our apartment on Williams Street as well as citizenship pictures of Mom and Dad we had to take. Also following is a present-day picture of the lot where the apartment house sat.

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Where our home on Williams Street used to be (now an empty lot)

Just to give you a perspective on how old my father was, he was born September 3, 1891. He was also an excellent horseman. He was a Russian Cossack who knew how to dance like one, who looked like they were almost sitting down with their arms crossed, kicking their legs out. Little did I realize how hard that would be until I started taking Tae Kwon Do in the future. My father was multitalented. He also played the accordion.

I had great admiration for my father because of all the things he had to deal with. I guess that was good enough reason on why he was always so quiet and quick to anger. I now realize having experienced it in my life. He most likely had acute PTSD. I am also experiencing the same acute PTSD from horrific war scars that will never go away. I now see why my father was an extreme alcoholic, which is why I don’t consume hard liquor.

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There was someone whom Dad did somewhat trust, Miss Marie Zucker. She was kind and soft-spoken. She was from the social services or Salvation Army. I believe she helped our family with clothing, food, and potential employment. Miss Zucker got us in touch with Zion Lutheran Church and helped Mom get a job there as a church and school custodian. Mom was ever so grateful to have had that opportunity.

Dad got a job at Goral Motors, which was just up the street from our apartment, so he could walk there. Dad took me to Goral Motors. I thought it was so neat to see all those cars. I think this is where I got the first bug for realizing that a car is a man’s best friend. Eventually I think that was where Dad got his 1949 Dodge.

Just around the corner, about a block away from our house on Williams Street, was a Cushman Motor Scooter store. I would walk there, look at those new Cushman motor scooters, sit on them, and think about riding on those scooters all the way to California, which I heard was all the way across the United States. It was always warm, they didn’t have winter, and the movie stars lived there. Little did I realize or have any concept how far California was and that one day I would be in the state of California at San Diego MCRD as a marine.

Most times we walked and occasionally took the bus with Mom everywhere, including the grocery store, G. C. Murphys, the bread store, or anywhere else. At this time, Dad did not have any transportation/car, so our family walked or took public transportation everywhere.

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G. C. Murphys in the mid-1950s

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Goral Motors, where Dad first worked when we came

to the United States. Dad loved convertibles.

It wasn’t long until my father found a car at Goral Motors that needed repair, a 1949 Dodge four-door. He fixed it up by overhauling the motor and fixing other minor things on the vehicle in our one-car garage. The shift lever was on the steering column, which was called three on the tree, and my father showed me how you could shift that without even using the clutch by listening to the RPMs of the engine.

I thought it was super cool and