I never did anything special. I remained the hotel manager who was, first of all, before the genocide, catering for diplomats, for politicians, for the elite intellectuals. But during the genocide, I remained a hotel manager. Maybe my clientele had changed, but me, I never changed. My duties, my obligations, remained the same.
In the early 1960s, Teamsters Union president Jimmy Hoffa was not yet the punchline of jokes. He was a powerful labor boss, accustomed to getting his way and running over those who got in his way. So Steven J. Harper was intrigued to find, after his father's death, that more than 40 years ago James Harper stood up to the formidable Jimmy Hoffa, risking his livelihood -- and perhaps even his life -- in the process. Harper's new book about his father's nose-to-nose with the big guy is called "Crossing Hoffa."
I never did anything special. I remained the hotel manager who was, first of all, before the genocide, catering for diplomats, for politicians, for the elite intellectuals. But during the genocide, I remained a hotel manager. Maybe my clientele had changed, but me, I never changed. My duties, my obligations, remained the same. 
