[ WP ] A veteran Holocaust Jewish survivor meets a man in the elevator . As they strike a conversation , he slowly realizes the man was his brutal Nazi prison warden .

It was a boiling hot day, abnormally hot for spring. Walking into the lobby of the hotel I was staying in was somewhat disappointing, the air conditioning was still broken. As a result, I took the lift. I'd have normally taken the stairs, but not in this weather, not at my age. 
 
 I do n't even remember what started the conversation, probably something generic about the weather, or how the other lift was broken. But unlike your standard generic conversation, this one lasted more than a few seconds, with a grunt of approval from the other party to end it. 
 
 It may have happened as we realised we were both German. Not exactly rare, especially in New York, but it was nice to find someone else from my own country, and of my own age. We ended up talking about growing up in Germany, me talking about Köln where I grew up and it's wonderful Cathedral, and him reminiscing about the farm he grew up on, in Bavaria. How we played as children, and the tales we had. 
 
 But then we got to the topic of the war, after we'd grown up and become young men, and I noticed a change of tone. It was n't instant, It was subtle, he was choosing what to say very carefully, which made me slightly suspicious. I asked him what he did, and he replied very quietly he was in the military. 
 
 But as he did this he took off his sunglasses, looked down and rubbed his hands across his face, running them through his hair when he got to the top. The kind of thing you do whilst tired or exhausted. It allowed me to see his eyes. The eyes I could never forget. The ones that I once saw looking down at me with such hatred, such anger, that it was doubtful the embodiment of that anger was human. But it was. It was also standing right next to me. 
 
 I did n't really know what to say, I was dead silent. The man, after rubbing his head, looked back up. He'd seen my forearm, my sleeves were rolled up due to the heat. He looked at me and, and in the most honest, truthful way, said just 2 words. 
 
 `` I'm sorry.'' 
 
 I was still speechless, it was n't a meeting I was expecting, I was n't prepared for this. He continued: `` I do n't expect you to forgive me, you have every right to hate me. I half expect you to hurt me now. I would n't stop you. Just know that, deep down, the young hateful man I once was is gone, replaced with an old, sorrowful man filled with regret.'' 
 
 The next minute or so were mostly silence. We got to the dining level fairly soon after this, at which point he turned to me and said `` Are you dining alone today?''. 
 
 I replied with a stunned `` Yes, as per usual.'' 
 
 `` Then do you mind if I eat with you? It's rather lonely at this time of life, the least I can do is buy you lunch.'' 
 
 And with that, we walked over to a window table, and sat down. 
 
 After a long conversation with a surprisingly nice meal, we got up, and as we went to leave he said `` You have no idea how much I needed this. It's been hanging over me all my life, the fact I have n't apologised to anyone.'' 
 
 `` Well, now you have. Whilst it may not be forgotten, I have at least forgiven, hate is a young mans emotion.'' 
 
 He simply moved towards me, hugged me, and before leaving put a piece of paper in my pocket. I checked it as he got into the elevator, and it said `` If you want to go to Germany again, do n't hesitate to call.'' With his number underneath.
