I discovered Salomon Grumbach quite by accident, having mistakenly ordered his files at the French National Archives. As I leafed through his letters, newspaper clippings, and notes, I remembered that his name had been mentioned at the Alliance Israélite Universelle (aiu) Archives just the day before. I hurried back to the aiu and the archivists graciously allowed me to see his personal papers, which had not been catalogued. This is where my thanks begin. I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to the aiu archivists who provided full access to Grumbach’s personal papers and catalogued them as we went, and to the many other librarians and archivists who helped me uncover precious source material. Your patience and wealth of knowledge made this book possible. I also am deeply grateful to the many people who helped each step of the way, whether reading drafts, providing insight at critical moments, or lending moral support. Thank you to Carole Fink, who encouraged me to tell Grumbach’s story and offered wisdom on the best way to move forward. I would especially like to extend my sincere thanks to Lisa Moses Leff, Owen White, Nick Underwood, and Erin Corber. Each of you played an important role and my gratitude knows no bounds. I would also like to thank Vicki Caron, Nadia Malinovich, Ethan Katz, Maud Mandel, Pierre Birnbaum, and the many scholars whose research, historical approaches, and theoretical frameworks have been so influential on my work and untold others. To my friends and colleagues at the US Air Force Academy, thank you for your encouragement as I navigated the editing and publishing process.1 To my family—Dan, Evan, and Josephine—“thank you” simply does not suffice. I am indebted to you and your endless patience; your love and support mean more than you will ever know. Thank you.
The views expressed in this book are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of the Department of Defense, the U.S. Government, U.S. Air Force Academy, or U.S. Air Force.