An honorable Japanese diplomat put his career on the line, granting more than 2,000 visas to Lithuanian Jews fleeing the Nazis — in defiance of orders from Tokyo

Sugihara. Just hearing the name evokes a visceral reaction. An honorable Japanese diplomat put his career on the line, granting more than 2,000 visas to Lithuanian Jews fleeing the Nazis — in defiance of orders from Tokyo in 1940 to cease and desist.

Many have heard this story, but for my family, it is our story. My grandfather, Rabbi Yisroel Zev (Velvel) Zoimen from Baranovich, and my wife’s grandparents, Rabbi Avigdor and Elka Cyperstein from Pinsk, escaped to Shanghai thanks to Chiune Sugihara’s efforts. When I chanced upon a flier announcing that Chiune Sugihara’s grandson Chihiro would be speaking at our local Holocaust center, I knew our family had to be there.

The night of the event, it was pouring buckets. We were late — the MC had just introduced Chihiro Sugihara — and we crept quietly into the full auditorium, sliding into some seats at the side marked, “reserved,” the only section still empty.

I glanced around. The crowd reminded me of the shuls in those small Jewish communities you pass through on vacation, average age 75. There were plenty of walkers, but we had the only stroller.

Abie Rotenberg’s words played in my mind: And who will stand before the world, knowing what to say, when the very last survivor fades away? I had schlepped my kids here for this very reason; where were their middle-aged children and why was there only one other yarmulke in this audience?

Chihiro was sharing a PowerPoint presentation about his grandfather’s early life. I didn’t know what to expect — was he here for noble reasons or was he just riding his grandfather’s legacy? But it soon became clear that it was the former.

He squirmed onstage, looking like he would much rather be somewhere else. He was self-conscious about his thick accent and his command of English, offering cute, self-deprecating lines (“My grandfather taught me English, but I was a poor student”) and raw, honest responses to questions. His presentation had spelling mistakes, which just made it more authentic.

Chihiro, who had lived with his grandfather for the first 20 years of his life, described him as a quiet man who worked hard. Chihiro did not grow up on stories about the war or the exciting life at the consulate; his grandfather kept his heroism a secret most of his life, exposed only near the end of his days by a persistent Israeli he had saved who was determined to track him down in Japan and give him proper recognition.

Chihiro learned from his grandfather’s mesorah, apparently. The Jewish man who arranged that night’s event told me later that for months, he had spent hours daily with Chihiro when they worked alongside each other on a project. Only after a year did Chihiro open up — he was that Sugihara.