Mikols' formal education ended in 1940, when, as a 14 year old boy he was driven from his hometown to a Polish ghetto by the invading Germans. His family managed to escape but, he was picked up on the street and transported to a German farm to work.

After finding a radio, which he secretly played at night, he stumbled across an underground station, which was broadcast in Polish. When it was discovered that he was passing war news to other prisoners, he was severely beaten and sent to Buchenwald where he was scheduled for cremation.

While awaiting execution, 60 young men, including Mikols, were selected for a different fate. They were taken to German science labs, where they were infected with typhoid in order to test a typhoid serum, which had been previously tested only on animals. Henry was one of only six who survived.

"I felt death coming as the sickness consumed me," he said. "The last thing I remember before I lost consciousness was a doctor giving me a shot in the stomach. Miraculously, I survived... I can't explain why the others died and I didn't."

His reward for being involved in the experiment was a march to Bergen-Belsen, another concentration camp, where he witnessed and suffered the atrocities depicted in today's history books.

"When I witnessed executions, I prayed to God, 'Don't let the Nazis do that,'" he said. "When I was tortured, that only reminded me that I was still alive.

"In 1945 British troops invaded the camp, and we were freed. I weighed 86 pounds at the time."

With his beloved homeland of Poland taken over by communists, Mikols decided not to return. He found work in England as a court interpreter while "dreaming of coming to the United States."

His dream became a reality, thanks to a Catholic welfare organization that sponsored war refugees who wanted to come to America. He arrived in New York in 1952 with five British pounds in his pocket.

Henry had several jobs before he went to work for the Public Property Department in the City of Lawrence, from where he eventually retired and moved to his current home in Dummer, New Hampshire.

Looking back, Henry Mikols' life since coming to America is actually a story in itself.

Although he never saw his father again, he was reunited with his mother Joan and his sister Mirka, whom he had never met, when he went to Poland for a visit in 1965.

In 1968 he was able to bring his mother to America. "She was able to work long enough to collect a small Social Security check before moving back to Poland where she later died," he said.

It was during his 1968 visit that a friend returned Henry's concentration camp jacket that he had been holding for him since 1945. Henry then brought the jacket back to America and later donated it to the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C.

The number stitched on the jacket was 2636, Henry's number. "The number was given to me in Buchenwald. It was a low number and must have been first assigned to one of the thousands that died prior to my arriving," he said.

In 1970 he married Alma, a Guatemalan immigrant. A few years later, his daughter Angelica was born.

Alma was diagnosed with Lupus in 1989. In 1994 she went into renal failure, and she needed a transplant. Despite his age, the doctors at Brigham and Women's Hospital determined that Henry was a healthy donor and went ahead and performed a successful transplant using one of Henry's kidneys.

Over the past 40 years, Mikols has dedicated himself to telling the story of the Holocaust so that the public will be aware, firsthand, of what actually took place and that it will never happen again.

A remarkable speaker, his venues have included numerous colleges. In fact, he received the first honorary undergraduate degree in the 159-year history of Colby-Sawyer College in 1997. It was the same year that daughter Angelica received her degree from Colby-Sawyer.

The degree was awarded in recognition of the academic role he played at Colby-Sawyer and in acknowledgement of the circumstances, which robbed him and so many others of the possibility of a higher education.

Mikols, a Catholic, hopes his lectures will help clear up misconceptions about the war. "The biggest myth is that all prisoners were Jews and all soldiers and guards were German. While it's true that the horrible mass murder and extermination of Jews was the intent of the Nazis, the camps contained many Russians, Poles, Czechs and even German sympathizers who were tortured and killed," he said.

Likewise, many of the guards were not Germans, but Croatians and Turks who volunteered for the German army, according to Mikols.

Through a lawyer, Mikols has won some money from the German Government. He received $10,000 in 1970 and a check of $65 each month. Recently he was awarded $5,500 for "four years of slavery," he said. "The Germans did keep good records."

'Where veterans are present, I try to shake hands and thank each and every one of them.'

Henry still has nightmares and post-traumatic stress disorder. "I've accepted the fact that this will always be with me. Speaking before groups does help me to cope. People have been wonderful," he said.

Mikols feels that America should be thankful for its many veterans. "Every time I'm invited to speak where veterans are present, I try to shake hands and thank each and every one of them. Please tell them how grateful I am."

Consider it done, Henry.