Trade and Commerce   

An extract from the book Amol in Rassein (Once Upon a Time in Rassein)

(C) 1976 - George M. D. Wolfe. Reproduced here with permission

“The town shops, all I believe owned by Jews, were located along the main streets and probably numbered several hundred. I had my special favorites among them for Shopping, browsing (which was discouraged) and window gazing. The half dozen bakeries were at the top of the list. These were especially well stocked during the occupation and featured a large variety of cakes, pastries, cookies. Although our home had a good supply of baked goods, it was normally doled out to children only at meal time”. 

……. 

“The bakeries were especially popular at the end of Yom Kippur, when my friends and I rushed to them at the end of the fast to buy a napoleon or some other French type pastry, on credit I presume, since we did not carry money on Yom Kippur. Although we baked bread at home, I was sometimes sent to buy bakery bread and managed to include some delicacy in the order. Except for the early war years, when there was both a shortage and serious deterioration in the quality of bread, the town's bakeries produced exceptionally good bread in variety. 

Aptheiker Gass (Apothecary Street) as I knew it, was the principal avenue for the more or less ritual spatzier on Saturday afternoons and some evenings. This was one of the few tree lined streets, mostly horse chestnuts, and contained the homes of the more prominent Christians. There were a number of attractions which drew me to Aptheiker Gass. The town's two or three photographers had their studios there and displayed their work in imposing bay windows. Being photographed, by professionals or amateurs, was a passion with most people in Rassein who could afford it”. 

…… 

“Having one's picture taken became especially popular at the end of the war when families were eager to send their photos to relatives in America. There was always a small crowd in front of the photographers' studios looking at the latest photographs displayed in the windows. 

One of our two apothecaries was located in a park like setting on the street. To me the apothecary, with its large clean windows, tree lined entrance, beautiful cabinets and counters, delicate scales, professional looking pharmacists and imposing apothecary jars in several colors, was always a place of mystery and I never failed to stop to look into the shop. The town's only fire station, consisting of several horse drawn water sprinklers, was also located on this street and was included in my frequent tours of the area to look at the equipment and especially at the brass helmets of the firemen. Our walks on Aptheiker Gass usually ended at the church marking the start of open country. The street was short and it was sometimes necessary to walk up and down a number of times to meet friends and, above all, to run into girls who usually walked in small groups and engaged us in provocative talk and flirtatious comments. 

The town's grocery shops were favorite places for a brief stop to look, smell and when change was available, to buy such delicacies as halvah, ginger, or boksher (St. John's bread or carob pod). Except for certain products, such as tea, most groceries were sold from open bins, barrels and other containers. I frequently prevailed upon my mother to let me accompany her to our grocery so as to be able to spend more time on the premises. Ordinarily merchants did not welcome the visits of children and hustled them out as soon as they made their modest purchase. 

Occasionally when I was sent to buy something for home, I hastened to announce my mission for fear of being ejected. In contrast to most shops, I was always welcome in the ice cream-candy parlor opposite our store where I had the reputation of cleaning my ice cream plate so well as not to require washing. 

Oranges, individually wrapped in soft paper, appeared as if from nowhere once a year and grapes, packed in a kind of heavy sawdust, occasionally came on the market in small quantities. Fresh fruit (apples, pears, plums, cherries, gooseberries, currants) were readily available in several orchards where we went every Saturday afternoon during the summer and fall to buy on credit since no money was exchanged on the Sabbath. Fruit off the tree or bush could also be had at the homes of friends. One of our relatives was the owner of a flour mill on the edge of town adjoining a small orchard. The miller was very friendly with my father, who used to compete in feats of strength with the mill workers, but had little patience with children. However, his grandson and I were good friends and I visited the orchard often to pick cherries, currants and gooseberries. The mill's granaries were also favorite stopping places for games and vain attempts to catch birds which made their home there. In our frenzy to catch birds, we would sometimes flush the birds' nesting inside the barns and then quickly close shut the doors, hoping to catch some in the process. Unfortunately we killed more birds than we caught in this manner. 

The most colorful area in town was the large market place, centrally located and bounded on one side by the central synagogue, an imposing building which the Germans commandeered for a time and used as a stockade, and on the other sides by two story buildings with the shops on the ground floor and apartments on the upper floor. On non-market days the market place had something of the character of a "plaza" for strollers and was a favorite playground for children when they could get away from school. Following the occupation the Germans used the market as a staging area displaying to us the great variety of their military vehicles, both motorized and horse drawn. Peasants brought their farm products to market on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I believe, and occupied every inch of the area. They were joined by some of the town's merchants, who had regular stalls for their wares on market days. Some of the farmers and fish peddlers came directly to the market place and set up their displays early in the morning, while others - perhaps those who could afford it - left their products at the market and brought their horses to the local inns, owned by Jews, where they would return at the end of the market day for vodka and refreshments. 

The German occupation interrupted the regular market schedule, but it was eventually resumed on a small scale since the occupiers requisitioned most of the peasants' products. Much as I wanted to spend a great deal of time wandering through the market place, it was difficult to get away from school for any length of time. But I was there often enough to be fascinated by the array of peasant carts, neighing horses, farmers shouting their wares and bargaining with customers, both Jews and non-Jews, wandering beggars, drunks, blind musicians generally accompanied by a child or two, amused groups of German soldiers and the watchful eyes of officials who were there to keep order and to stop fights which sometimes broke out at the end of the day. 

One of the inns, or pivnes, was located a short distance from my home and passing it on the way back from school; I could hear singing and accordion playing in the inn's saloon. (Later, when I read Dostoyefsky's Crime and Punishment I transposed Raskolnikov's meetings with Sonya to this saloon). The peasants not only sold, but also bought supplies in the local stores and I would frequently be asked to help out on market days. My father was on very good terms with some of the farmers, most of whom spoke Lithuanian, who seemed to trust him. 

At the end of the market days, I could hear my parents discuss the events of the day and plan for the next market day. 

I came to know a number of the town's artisans and visited their workshops as often as I could either for fittings or to play with their children. On the way to our store I invariably stopped to look in the window of a nearby watchmaker who sat in his tiny shop stooped over a watch with his eye piece surrounded by many clocks on the walls. The centerpiece of his window display was a porcelain clock with a pendulum in the shape of a young girl on a swing. The watchmaker must have wound the display clock regularly for the smiling girl never stopped swinging. I had a special affection for this shop for another reason. When the long Lithuanian winter began to abate in April, there was always a tiny patch of black soil in front of the store which was usually in full sunlight. I hardly ever spoke to the watchmaker since I had no business with him, but he must have observed my movements sufficiently to tell my mother that she should not let me run around the town without a warm overcoat. My mother took this implied criticism very seriously and begged me to wear my winter coat which I considered burdensome since I walked skippingly and enjoyed being dressed lightly. Another watchmaker I came to know well was the father of one of my good friends who did not attend school and whom I met at play near his home. I learned from other members of my family, but not from the boy, that his father was mentally ill and worked only spasmodically at his trade. The young boy cared for him at home and invariably accompanied his father, who liked to walk rapidly through the town. I visited their home often to help the boy build entire armies of cardboard soldiers which he cut out and colored very skillfully".

Navigation between the chapters:-  Use the side bar, or the links below

Cover     :     Early Memories of Rassein     :     Jewish Rassein      

Schooling    :    Making Matzoh    :   Whats in a name        

Household Chores    :    The Sabbath, Holidays and Holy Days  

Amusemenyt and Diversions   :   Trade and Commerce   :     Clothing