Transcription of a tape by Esther Greenfield
[This transcription written 2/24/1992 by Raphael Finkel. The tape itself
was recorded around 1970 or so.]
My earliest memories start at Byalostok, my birthplace. Our dwelling is
in rather a large building, entrance in a courtyard. To the street is a
long vaulted gateway. At night there is a watchman at the gate. He is
called a dvornik. At one side of the courtyard is a large ivy covered
wall. I can creep behind the ivy and hide. Inside the house the walls
are plastered white. It looks very new. There is a sink with a faucet.
This is the first time I remember having a faucet in the house. My
sister Zeldie picks me up to get a drink of water. There is no
furniture or anything in the house. We were probably just moving in. I
do not remember the place we lived in before this. My baby brother
Avremele is creeping on the floor. He creeps to the plastered wall near
the sink. He chews on the plaster.
Next to our living quarters is my father's carpenter shop. Sometimes I
go in there and play in the shavings and sawdust. My father smokes
cigarettes constantly. When he throws the butts away I pick them up and
play with them. One day a friend was visiting us. He smoked a pipe. I
had never seen anything like it before. What is a pipe? What a
wonderful toy it will be when he is finished and throws it away. I sit
and watch. How long will it take? What disappointment. He takes the
pipe out of his mouth and puts it in his pocket. No new plaything for
me. I feel so very very sad!
One day a wonderful thing happened. We heard the voice of a Russian
calling, "marozhni, marozhni. Sakha minarozhni." Mother grabs a
glass and spoon and runs out into the courtyard with all us kids
following. There stood a tall man with a wooden bucket on his head.
Mother held out the glass. He put down the bucket. Inside was the most
exciting substance I had ever seen. All the colors of the rainbow and
looking yummy. It was ice cream, the first I had ever seen. Mother
gave the man some coins. He filled the glass with the beautiful
substance. By the spoonful, mother dished it out to our open mouths,
just like a little bunch of birds in a nest. It was all over much too
soon, but oh, what a wonderful treat!
Traveling entertainers came to the courtyard quite often. Most of the
time they were acrobats. Sometimes there were musicians and dancing
bears. They would perform as long as the coins kept dropping in the
passed hats. We were always sorry to see them go.
One day our furniture and all our belongings were piled on a wagon. Of
course, I was too young to understand what it was all about. After the
furniture was on there, Mother and we children also climbed on the
wagon. It seems that my father and older brother Hershel were already
on the way somewhere. We traveled through the countryside, the first I
had ever seen. There were fields of ripe grain blowing in the breeze,
but what excited me most was to see roofs of houses sticking out of the
ground. Of course I didn't understand what it was all about. I later
heard that the peasants built their houses that way to keep them warm in
winter and cool in the summer.
And while we were on the way the wagon stopped at a farmhouse. My
mother stopped and talked to the ladies that came out, and pretty soon
the ladies sent a bucket down into a well. When the bucket came up, she
poured some liquid into glasses for us to drink. It was the most
delicious sour milk we'd ever had, and I then thought that that's where
sour milk came from, from a well. of course, I learned afterwards that
it was kept there to keep it cool in the summertime.
Our next stop was a city called Lomze [Lomza]. I understand that it
belongs to Poland now, but at that time it was part of Russia. Very
much didn't happen in Lomze, so I won't say too much about it, but go on
to our next stop, which was Yekatarineslav [since renamed to
Dnepropetrovsk]. I tried to find it on the map, but have since learned
that the name has been changed to something else, during the revolution,
so I have no idea what part of Russia that was.
I believe the happiest time of my childhood was when we went to Grodno
to where my grandfather lived. He lived in a log house that he had
built himself. It was really a suburb of Grodno across from the Nemen
river and it was called Fershtot. This house was on the top of a hill
overlooking the river. It was a wonderful place for us children because
we could run up and down the hill and run down the hill to bathe in the
river. In the wintertime some of that road was frozen and we could
slide down the road. We didn't skate because we didn't have any skates.
Sometimes we saw other children on the river skating, but for us to have
such a thing a skates was quite out of the question.
The house consisted of a large room where we spent most of our time. In
that room was a wooden table with a bench on each side of the table. and
there we sat where Grandfather started to teach us the alef-beys and how
to pronounce the words. and what I remember was him saying in a
sing-song voice "komets alef o, komets beys bo, komets gimel go"
[Melody: b d c b c] and so forth and so on. But we finally learned the
simple alef-beys and how to pronounce simple words. And the song "afn
pripetchek" that most Jews have heard. When I hear it it always
reminds me of that room, because in that room there was a pripetchek
and there was a fire on there in the cold winter days.
Then I must go back again when we first moved to this wonderful old
house. It seems it was just before Pesakh, the Passover. And what
preparations were going on! First of all, dishes had to be brought down
from the attic to be kashered. Pots and pans where there was only one
set (very few people could afford one special set for Passover), they
were made kosher by putting them in a large tub and throwing in bricks
or stones that was fired to intense heat. When they landed in the water
they made a hissing sound, and when the water cooled off, the pots and
pans were taken out and they were then kosher for Passover. The house
was scoured from top to bottom. The windows were washed, probably once
a year, I'm not sure, and little curtains were put on the windows. And
my sister Zeldie made some artificial flowers to put on the window. The
kitchen floor was covered with sawdust, and everything looked so
wonderfully festive. And then that Passover. Oh, what a wonderful,
wonderful feast, with chicken soup, and matses, and chicken, and also
gefilte fish, and fruit. What a celebration! I don't remember any
such joy any other time.
Of course, after Passover there was the holiday of Purim. [This
recollection is inaccurate; Purim comes one month before Passover.] My
mother was baking homentashen. And that was a time when the neighbors
all exchanged gifts, and it was mostly of food. They would put some
fruit and some homentashen and I don't know what else on a plate
covered with a napkin and bring it to the neighbors. And the neighbors
in turn would bring these same gifts to us. It was called shalakh
monnes [sending foodstuffs]. What that means I really don't know, but
anyway it was a time for feasting.
The next holiday I remember was Rosh haShono, a very sacred holiday.
The father and mother went to shul. We kids, of course, stayed at
home. We were too little to go along. And also there was very good
food to eat. There was gefilte fish and chicken soup and chicken and
cake. And the next day what they called a tsholent. It was food put
into the oven the afternoon before and taken out piping hot the next
day, and how delicious it was!
I forgot to mention that in the kitchen of that house there was a big
oven built out of the earth, I think. The bread was baked in that oven,
and in the front was a place for cooking. And under the cooking part
was a little enclosure with a little iron gate. And in the wintertime
some chickens were kept in that little enclosure. And sometimes when
the chickens came out they flew all over the house and everybody tried
to catch them, which was almost impossible. But they'd fly up to the
ceiling and sit on the rafters, and that wasn't very good.
After Rosh haShono came Sukkes, and that was also a time of great
excitement. There was a beautiful sukkie built out in the yard
covered with leaves and twigs. And every morning a man would come with
what they called an esreg and a lulev and mother would make a little
prayer, and mother would pay the man and then he went on to the next
house. We ate in that sukkie, and that was so wonderful. With white
tablecloths spread out there, with the candles, and the holiday food,
and it was a time of great joy and great feasting, something really to
remember.
The next holiday was Khaneke. And that was another time of rejoicing.
I didn't mention earlier that the synagogues were at the end of the
street where we lived. And we children would go to the synagogue and
dance around the bima. During Khaneke we'd carry candles and dance
around there and sing some Khaneke songs.
And during that holiday of Khaneke I remember the snow beginning to
fall. It was an evening and I was looking out of one of the little
windows and saw the snow piling up and piling up and piling up. The
next morning the snow was over the windows and over the back door.
Father had to shovel his way out. And it took several days before they
shoveled enough snow away from the front of the house so that anybody
could get out. I remember that the snow was so high I remember wagons
driving on top of the snow. It must have been several feet. At this
time I can't really estimate what it was, but the wagons were driving
above the level of our windows. That snow stayed there all winter and
when it started to melt, you can use your imagination of what happened
to our muddy streets.
During the winter the winter had frozen solid, so solid that the wagons
would ride across it. The people could walk from Fershtot to Grodno.
In the spring time when that ice broke up, I will never forget to this
day, the terrible sound of the ice breaking up. It was like cannons
shooting. It was terrifying. And then when it was all broken up, the
great big chunks of ice started floating down the river. I don't know
how long it took for the ice to disappear, but it finally did disappear
and then spring had come.
While living in my grandfather's log house, my father invented a mengl
[clothes press]. Naturally, it was quite a crude affair. It was made
of - well, it looked to be, it looked real huge. It took up almost,
well, it took up the most part of that large room that I shall call the
living room. It looks like two huge boxes filled with large stones. In
order to make the mengl run, there was some wheels, and a handle had
to be turned. There was a roller under those boxes. The clothes were
wound around the rollers in order to press them. The neighbors used to
come in and mengl their clothes. And once in a while when they wanted
to give us kids a treat, they'd sit us in the mengl on top of the
stones, perhaps not only to give us a ride but to add more pressure to
the mengl. We really enjoyed it; it was quite fun. I hope you who are
listening can visualize what a monstrosity that must have been.
The little street where we lived, all the houses there were occupied by
Jewish people. But a little bit down the hill was another street which
we called the "goyishe gas" [gentile street]. And that's where the
gentiles lived. Also almost across street from the house was a Roman
Catholic cathedral with a high wall around it. There were fruit trees
inside the wall. We couldn't ever go inside the wall; that was
forbidden, but we could see the apples over the wall. Once in a while
an apple would fall on our side, and we kids would dash for that apple.
They told us that we shouldn't take those apples, we should throw them
back over the wall, but who would listen to such a foolish thing?
From Fershtot we moved to the main city of Grodno across the river. I
remember it was just a small apartment. It had a living room and two
bedrooms, and we were a family of eight. We children liked it because
there was a little river right near where we were living, and we used to
love to go down to this river, take off our shoes and stockings, and
wade in that river. It was a muddy little thing, and quite dirty.
`Cause we children had no real toys. One day I saw what looked like a
ball at one end of that creek. I was determined to get that ball,
`cause I'd see other children playing with a ball, and how I envied
them! Well, I started going in for the ball. It wasn't too long before
I was over my head. Somebody, I don't remember who, pulled me out. If
they hadn't, I might not be telling this story now.
It seems a short time after we lived in this place my father, who had
quite a lot of friends, they would come in. Mother would set up the
samovar. His friends and Father were around the samovar drinking tea,
and every now and then I got to hear the name of London, Ingland, and
Ingland, and to me, I thought Ingland was a land that hangs
somewhere in the air. Not being old enough to understand what was going
on, to my sorrow, I soon learned that Father was planning to go to
England. It wasn't very long thereafter that he and my brother Hershel
went away to England and Mother and we kids were left in Grodno.
We couldn't afford the accommodations that we had, which were really
quite nice, compared to other things, so we moved in a little attic not
far from the river. My aunt, my mother's sister, lived downstairs, and
Mother would be so anxiously waiting for a letter from father, longing
for the day when we could join him in England. Money must have been
very very scarce at that time. There was not much food to eat. We were
living on soup, and bread, and herring.
And one day all of us kids came down with the measles. I remember there
were two beds. There were two of us in each bed. And what a sad time
that was! And also, my maternal grandfather lived not too far away, so
he came in one day and it seems that the oven in that little attic, the
damper had been - there was something wrong with the damper, and we were
almost overcome. Somebody called Grandfather, and he called a doctor.
Anyway, there was a lot of excitement, and we were revived. And I heard
later that if that hadn't happened very soon none of us would have
survived; we would have been poisoned by what they called some kind of a
gas; I really don't know what it was.
It wasn't long after this that they got a letter from Father begging us
to have a photograph taken because he was getting very lonesome. So, to
have a photograph taken, we didn't have the proper clothes. So sister
Zeldie and Mother went out to a dry-goods store and bought some material
to make three dresses for us three younger girls. It was navy blue and
some lighter material for trimming. and in several days we had our new
dresses. And then, wonder of wonders, mother hired a droshky, we had
never been in one before, in order to get to the photographer's. We got
there and the photographer started placing us in position. He put
something back of our heads so we couldn't move, and then he told us to
hold perfectly still, which we did, and it wasn't too long before he
said that we were all done. Then the waiting to see the finished
picture. There is one hanging in my bedroom now. I think everyone in
the family has a copy. It was great joy to see that we looked like
human beings.
And it wasn't too long after that that we got money from Father for
tickets to come tom him to London. And what great rejoicing to think
that at last we were all going to be together. So I don't know how long
it was, we put on our best clothes and we packed what little belongings
we had, and again we got into a droshky to go to the railroad station,
and we drove to the station and then we got on a train, and the train
took us to a place called - I can't think of the name of the city where
the train took us - but that's the place we boarded the boat to take us
across the English Channel to England.
The boat, as I remember, was just a flat wooden tub. There was a cabin
on side for the women and children and a cabin on the other side for the
men. When mealtime came, there was a man, it must have been an English
ship, because he would holler out, "tea." And we didn't know what tea
was; we always called it "tey." And he'd call "tea" and "tea," and
everyone would come with a bowl. And the food he had consisted of
herring and potatoes and tea. And we had the same thing for three meals
a day. Potatoes, herring, and tea. I don't know how long it took us on
that tub of a boat until we came to Southampton.
And, incidentally, I enjoyed that trip, because at night, and I remember
it was moonlight, and there were musicians on deck playing music, and I
danced to the music. I didn't know how to dance, but I danced anyway,
and everybody applauded. And I think that was one of the highlights of
my trip on that old tub.
Well, we finally got to Southampton. In Southampton we got on a train
again. And that train took us to London. By the time we got to London
it was already dark. And we were taken to some kind of room, a station
of some kind, and Father wasn't there. He was supposed to meet us, and
he wasn't there. And Mother had forgotten his address, and we were
rather in a panic. So my mother said, of course, in a usual Yiddish,
``Children, don't be afraid. I will go on the street. I will meet a
Jew. And I will tell him your father's name. And that he's a
carpenter. And he will know where to find father.'' And, believe it or
not, that's exactly what happened. She found a man who knew Father.
And Father came, and we all went where he was living. It was a great
big basement, and his carpenter shop was right in the basement. There
was a bed there, and a couple of couches, and we all went to sleep
there. And the next morning I went out on the street to see what it
looked like in London. And there were girls there jumping rope. I had
never seen any rope jumping. And one of the girls came up to me and
talked in English, but of course I couldn't understand what she was
saying, and all the others started to laugh. And she, realizing what
was the matter, and she knew Jewish, so she told me in Yiddish that they
were calling me names: "Men ruft dir nemen." [nemen means either
"names" or "to take".] In Yiddish, that means "They're coming to take
you away," so I get scared to death and ran into my mother, and told
her, they were calling somebody to take me away, and she says, "A vu?
Where are they going to take you?" And she ran out and talked ...
[side one of the tape finishes here.]
When I started this recording, I didn't mention the dates. The simple
reason: I simply wasn't conscious at that time. I must have been about
two and a half years old at the time of my first mention of Byalostok.
The year must have been about 1898 as well as I can figure it out now.
In Lomzi it was probably about a year later, and I remember telling
someone who asked me my age that I was four years old and that my
brother was three. In Katerinoslav I was approximately five years old
and the date must have been about 1895 [sic. I expect more like 1900].
From Grodno to London: I know that we landed in London in 1902, in
America about 1904. That was when we landed in New York. >From New
York we were shipped to Rock Island and we lived there two years until
we went to Chicago. And we were in Chicago in 1906. At that time I was
conscious of dates and time.
And now to continue about London. The most exciting things there, of
course, was starting to go to school. The first school we started, it
was three old buildings which had formerly been some kind of church.
There was a separate building for boys, a separate one for the girls,
and a separate building for the kindergarten, or the infants, as they
called it in London.
Starting to learn to read and write English, when we knew nothing about
it, was quite a thing. We used slates and slate pencils, and we had to
copy figures on the board, letters and figures. And then we had to
learn some arithmetic. And it was a little difficult at first but it
wasn't too long before I started to get the idea. Now learning spelling
was something we did out loud. Like, for instance, we would say, "I N
in, T O to, into, T H E, the," and so on and so forth. After we were in
school, I don't know how many months, we were finally given pen and ink
to write. And that was quite a thrill. And it seemed that I was
learning a little bit faster than the others, so it wasn't too long
before I was put in a higher grade.
I remember living in a basement flat, where the floors were all of
cement and dreadfully cold. In the kitchen we had a linoleum, so that
wasn't so bad. Now Father and Uncle Hershel [Esther is addressing her
children; she means her brother Hershel] used the large room which was
supposed to be a living room. They used that for a carpenter's shop.
They were making mahogany desks to order for a special furniture
company. If I remember correctly, the desks were made of mahogany. Of
course they had to be made by hand, and I think it took them
approximately one week to finish one desk. When it was finished, they
would put that desk on a barrow, what we call a wheelbarrow here, and
they would cart it down, I don't know how many blocks, to get it to the
factory. And then they got paid for the work. And then Mother went out
to buy food for the week.
We lived on Bethenel Green Road. I think that was part of what we know
now as Whitechapel. And right close to our street was one street called
Brick Lane, and that was sort of a market place. It was lined with
barrows, or wheelbarrows, and all manner of goods and food were sold
there. Saturday night was a very exciting time, because then they all
had the flaring lights out on the barrows.
And there was one place that my brother Abe and I (I called him Abram at
that time), we loved to watch this man because he held sort of an
auction. He was selling candy, caramels in particular, and all sorts of
nicknacks. And he'd put a few caramels on a newspaper, and he'd say,
``"How much am I bid?" How much am I bid? Twopence, threepence, take
your price. I'll take any money, any price, take any money, I'll take
any money.'' and from then on Abe and I started to call the man "Take
any money."We out of watching him. So every Saturday night, there we
were, listening to "Take any money."
We weren't in London too long before we heard Father talking about going
to America, the goldene land, where the streets were paved with gold.
It sounded very exciting. Of course, it took quite a long time. I
don't know how long, before he saved up enough money for him and my
brother Hershel to leave for America, but the day finally came, and off
they went.
Mother and my sister Lena, or Zelda, and we four kids remained in
London. And it wasn't a very happy time. We had to move to a very
small apartment on the fourth floor of a building. Of course there was
no electricity, and our only form of heating at that time was a
fireplace where we burned coke. We did have gas lights on a meter, and
in order to get light, we had to put a quarter, or rather, a shilling,
in the meter. And I think they lasted for about an hour, or two hours,
I'm not real sure. And when the lights began to dim, we had to put in
another coin in the meter. And coins were not very plentiful.
Mother, of course, was a dressmaker, and she was always working on the
machine. She made all our clothes. But in order to supplement our
income, she started doing sewing for other people. And that gave us
enough, I think, to pay food, and still we started to get some money
from Father from New York.
I think we were in London about two years. Or until 1904, until finally
the wonderful letter came that my mother was looking for, with a money
order to buy tickets for all of us to come to New York. Oh, what a
happy time that was! In order to cash that money order, Mother had to
go to the Bank of London. She couldn't speak a word of English. The
Bank of London was a great distance. How she ever got there and got the
money I will never know, but Mother was the sort of little woman who got
things done, no matter what obstacles were on the way.
I must mention that a few months after my father left, Lena and my
brother Hershel and a friend of theirs managed somehow, because they
were working and earning some money, they managed to buy tickets and go
to New York. They left, and then it was just Mother and we four younger
children who remained in London. But by 1904, after we had been in
London, we left for New York. And that was a great, wonderful day.
We got on a ship, and we had very good accommodations. Most of the
people at our standard of living had to go in steerage, but for some
reason or other, we were given a private cabin with two double-deck
bunks, so there was plenty of room for all of us to sleep. Mother and
my sister Fan and Rose and myself and brother Abe. There was also a
sink in that room with running water! We had never had such luxuries.
And we got to eat in the great big dining room, and the food was very
plentiful, and very, very good. We never had it so good.
Well, one day a terrific storm came up. Everybody was in their bunks
seasick. But Mother and we four kids, I guess we were a very healthy
lot, we didn't get sick at all. When we got to that great big dining
room, my mother and we four kids were the only ones in that huge room.
The waiter looked at us in amazement, and he said, ``My goodness. One,
two, three, four, five Greenfields and not another person here.'' I
don't quite remember how many days that were on that voyage, but we
enjoyed it tremendously. I even went out on deck during that storm, and
one of the sailors caught me, and he said, "You go downstairs,
immediately," and gave me couple of pats on my backside, and said,
"Don't come up here!" I went down crying. I did want to see those
waves. They were just wonderful, but no, that was not allowed, and they
were really responsible for the youngsters.
And one day we got very ambitious, Abe and I, we went up where it says
something there about third class passengers forbidden, but we paid no
attention to the sign and we went on to the upper deck. And pretty soon
a sailor came along, said, "What are you brats doing up here? Down with
you!" Down we went the stairway and decided we'd better not go where
we're not wanted.
Well, we finally came to the great harbor of New York, and I will never
forget the thrill and the excitement, when we saw the Statue of Liberty.
I will never forget it, because we had heard so much about the land of
freedom, the land of money, the land where it's really a paradise.
Well, we landed at Ellis Island. And we were well-fed. The food was
good. I remember they gave us soup, and meat, and potatoes, all we
wanted to eat, and it was really glorious. And after a short wait,
there was my father, and my brother Hershel, and Lena, to greet us.
I don't remember what conveyance we had from Ellis Island to where we
were going, but we got to the flat where father had rented and
furnished. And I believe there were three rooms there: There was a
kitchen and a dining room and a bedroom. But somehow we managed to
accommodate ourselves for sleeping in those three rooms. Father and
Mother had the one bedroom, and the rest of us had to manage in the
other three rooms. I forgot to mention that there was a young man
traveling with us. I don't know what relationship he was, but he
always seemed to be there, and his name was Abram. And there he was.
Wherever we went, he went.
Well, after three weeks, Mother said she doesn't like New York, she's
not going to stay in New York, and if we don't go somewhere else, she's
going to jump right into the river. And Father, knowing money as he
did, he took her at her word. But what to do? Where to go? Well, we
talked to people about this, and they said, ``Yes, every now and then a
family comes to New York, and they don't want to stay there.'' And they
recommended that Father go to some agency that was run by the wealthy
German Jews, said that they would take care of an immigrant family.
Well, he went there, and he came back with very good news. He said that
they would pay our fare to Rock Island, Illinois. The reason they chose
Rock Island because Father told them his trade as a cabinet maker and
carpenter, specializing in door and window frames. They said, well
there was a Rock Island sash and door works where they needed help. So
that's where they sent us. They bought our tickets. They bought us
food for the train. I remember there was a couple loads of rye bread
and pumpernickel bread and herring and sausage and put us on the train.
How long it took from New York to Rock Island I don't know. But there
we came to Rock Island, Illinois.
The time was sometimes in July, 1904. And after staying in somebody's
boarding house until we could find a place to live, the folks finally
found a nice little five-room house. It was two stories. And it had a
nice yard, and a tree. And we kids had never had a tree of our own.
And Father made us a swing. It was heavenly! It was just wonderful.
We never had such pleasure. And after Father got his paycheck - well,
for several weeks, Lena and Mother went out and bought a few luxuries,
like a carpet for the front room. It was red with white flowers. And a
shade for the living room window. We had never seen anything quite so
wonderful.
When September came, it was time to go to school. And there was a
school not too far from where we lived, and the name of it was the
Eugene Field. Of course, I was still wearing my London clothes. I was
wearing the shoes that were twelve-button shoes. In London we called
them boots. And here, I believe, they would also be known as boots.
They put me in the third grade, due to my age. I think I was eight or
nine years old at the time, I don't know exactly. The teacher's name
was Miss Johnson. It was a very nice school, and all the children
looked so clean, and well dressed. I felt rather shabby, but that
couldn't be helped.
And the teacher asked me when was my birthday. And I said I didn't
know. I didn't know, I never heard of having a birthday. So she
started asking, and by some hints according to what I could tell her,
what my mother - well, Mother couldn't tell her, she couldn't talk a
word of English, but she told me - we decided that I was born early in
September, somewhere between either 1904 and 1905, it was never quite
established. But we took the date of 1905, September the fifth. [It
appears she means 1895] I have to stick to it all these years. When I
was really born I'll never know.
I don't know just how long we lived in that house. Mother became
dissatisfied because there were no Jews around there. She wanted to
move into a Jewish neighborhood, where there were other Jews, somebody
she could talk to. Of course, nobody could blame her for that. So we
started asking. And incidentally, an apple peddler came to the house
very frequently. His name was Harry Roth and he peddled apples. And he
seemed to have taken a shine to my sister Lena. She was rather a pretty
girl. She was about 18 at the time. Well, through Harry Roth we
learned where the Jewish neighborhood was, and it wasn't too long before
we moved out of this house, which was on 5th Avenue, where there were no
Jews, and we moved on 9th Street, with Jews all around us, and a street
where they had Jewish markets. Mother was in heaven.
It wasn't too long after that that Lena and Harry Roth started going
steady, and before long Lena and Harry were married. And they moved out
of the house and rented their own little flat. But the tragedy that
happened then: Lena, for her house, wanted our carpet and our window
shades, and she took them along, along with so many other things that we
had treasured. But, the oldest sister, as she helped buy that red
carpet, there wasn't a thing to do about it. And there was our poor
little living room with a bare wooden floor.
We enrolled in a school in the neighborhood; it was called the Hawthorne
School. And my teacher's name was Miss Battles. And it wasn't too long
before they noticed that we children, especially my sister Fan and I,
were talented in drawing. And Miss Battles was so proud of us. And she
had us make ink drawings which she would hang on the wall and it made us
very very happy.
Well, we lived in Rock Island about two years, when Mother said that
Rock Island was too small a city, that it's not good for girls, we
should move to a larger city. She had an aunt living in Chicago with
whom she corresponded. And pretty soon it was agreed that we leave Rock
Island and go to the big city of Chicago, because at that time, I must
have been about, oh, 12 years old, Fannie and Rose were old enough to go
to work. There was no such thing as working in a small city, Rock
Island, so we moved to Chicago.
As usual, Father had to go first to make arrangements. But for some
reason or other, he took me along. None of the other kids, but he took
me. I don't know why. We went by train, and my aunt and uncle met us
and took us to their apartment, which was a very miserable place in a
basement. But that's where we stayed for I don't know how long, until
Father sent for the rest of the family.
Well, the rest of the family were coming. My aunt decided they need a
better apartment. She had a lease on the place and couldn't just leave
it. So if we would move into that basement apartment, Father could send
for the rest of us. And that's what happened. And we moved in this
basement. It was on Division Street and it was a miserable place. It
was damp, and it was cold, and there were rats running around in the
yard. The toilet was outside. That one toilet - oh, yes, it was a
two-seater - but it had to be used by the family upstairs and by us. So
it wasn't very nice, but that's where we stayed until we could afford
something better.
At that time, my folks decided that we should buy a house. So from the
meager income that came in, they started saving money. I remember there
was a little top drawer in a dresser someplace where they saved money.
As soon as they had $200 saved up, they said it was time to buy a house.
That $200 was enough to put down as a first payment on a house. So they
started looking for houses. Well, they finally found one, on Rockwell
Street and Bloomingdale road, along a railroad track. Of course, I
don't know how much the house cost, but the $200 deposit was quite
enough. The house was a frame. It was two story. Downstairs there was
a store, and upstairs there were two flats. And there was a flat in
back of the store; I don't remember how many rooms. No facilities
whatsoever; toilet was in the yard. But we moved in anyway. We managed
to rent the upstairs.
And we could not rent the store. Nobody wanted to rent the store. So
Mother decided we could run our own business. So we started a candy
store. We didn't know anything about business. Of course, that didn't
make any difference. My mother somehow managed to find out where to get
merchandise. The merchandise consisted of some candy, some cigars, and
some cigarettes, and ice cream. To our delight, of course, we kept
noshing the candy, and all the profits that came in through the candy,
we kids ate up. And every once in a while somebody would come in to buy
some cigarettes. Well, I don't think we made much of a profit on that
store.
But Fanny and Rose were old enough to go to work. So the only place
they could go to work was in a garment factory. They both got jobs as
buttonhole makers in a garment factory. Fanny was 13 and Rose was 14,
and they took them out of school, and away they went to work. I was
lucky, being younger, so I got to continue school, but I was told as
soon as I am 13, I too will have to quit school and go to work. That
make me very, very sad.
I happened to be very good in school. I was always at the top of my
class. The teacher and the principal were very proud of me. And then I
told them - oh, yes, and they said that when I get to high school I
won't find it difficult at all, because I was learning so quickly - so I
told them that, sadly, I wouldn't get to go to high school because at 13
I had to quit school and go to work. Well, both my teacher, whose name
was Miss Foog, and the principal, whose name was Miss Patterson, had a
conference about me. I was in 6th grade at the time. And they said,
well it was just a pity that I couldn't finish grammar school so I could
go on to high school. So the principal called me into her office. And
she said she would give me some books to study over vacation. She gave
me a history and a geography book. Said study both two books. If you
pass your examination when school starts, you can skip the 7th grade and
go right on to the 8th grade, and then you can graduate and go on to
high school. Well, I was very happy at the thought. I took the books
and I studied very, very diligently. When vacation was over, Miss
Patterson gave me the exam. I passed it very easily, and then instead
of going to the 7th grade, they put me into the 8th grade.
Even though I had skipped a grade, I found no difficulty to keep up with
the other children. In fact, it wasn't very long before I was ranked
first in the class. At graduation, I was at the head of my class. My
average was 94 plus. And I was honored during graduation time, when I
got my diploma. I really got a standing ovation from the entire
assembly for graduating. And I was so very, very happy. And I had
hoped I could continue my education, but I knew back in my mind that
that would be quite impossible.
Well, soon after graduation I had to go out and find a job. Without any
training or any know-how at all. I did get a job at Wieboldt's
department store on Milwaukee avenue, as what they called a cashier
girl. Three dollars a week. Well, three dollars was three dollars, but
I wasn't happy with being a cash girl. That just meant taking the
merchandise and the money to the cashier, and take them to the customer.
So I got permission to go to High School at night.
So, I started going to night school, to take up bookkeeping. I felt I
had to work with figures and something that took some brain-work. So I
went to night school, and it was wintertime, and it was cold. I didn't
know enough to be afraid to be out alone, but I suppose my parents
decided that was not the thing for a young girl to do. So they decided
they would let me enter business college. It was $10 a month, and was a
years' course, and somehow, if possible, they would scrape up that $10 a
month and let me go to business college. That was a happy, happy
thought. Well, I enrolled at the Metropolitan Business College. Pay
them the $10 for a month's tuition. And I was learning - and I was told
that we can work as fast as we were able to. That it usually took a
year, but it can be done in less time if you learn quickly. Well, to
make a long story short, I did. [end of side two of the tape.]