The family moved from Columbia Street to one or two other residences and eventually settled into 2207 Putnam Street. We rented the lower half of a duplex next door to Chuck Koler's gas station at Bancroft and Putnam streets. The gas station's parking lot became our back yard. It was useful for playing tennis, taking pictures, playing marbles, "kick-the can", and a haven for Frankie and his friends to hang out. He and Chuck Koler became great friends. We lived there until 1939. Putnam was a beautiful street, lined with buckeye and elm trees whose residents' income ranged from moderate to medium high. We were the exception.
During the years 1929-1934, the B"Nai Israel synagogue records show that uncle Julius did not pay dues which would have been for Chana's membership. This year, however, he began to pay $12, a large drop from the $75. 00 plus donations he gave in the 1920s. The payments were probably intended to secure future burial arrangements for Chana.
My childhood remembrances and those of my brother Frankie are strikingly different. After all these years, I discovered that our genders placed us in opposite directions . Frankie's experiences took him out side the home to the streets. My life was inside with our parents. His memoirs, "Eyes on the Stars" enlightened me about his childhood escapades while we were children, and by way of my book he has come to know about our family's past.
Chana came to live with us at this time. Too young to remember her as a person, my recollection is a vision of a black figure passing through the house which would have been Chana in her black dress. The apartment had 3 bedrooms. Chana had her own bedroom, there were 2 double beds in the second bedroom, and my parents slept in a small alcove off the living room in the front part of the house. Phil, 10 years older, remembers having to share his bed with me from time to time and that the bed was often wet. Then I was passed around to other unlucky siblings. I was about 3. Helen, a teenager, had the third bedroom to herself.
Sidney now 18 was of the age to work or begin college. Many parents chose work for their sons considering the bad times, but others such as Lena and Adolph encouraged their children to earn a college degree and prepare for a profession that would promise them a better living which meant a better life.
Sid was a very good student in school, but he never had to work hard for good grades. He was very social, too, especially with the girls. My mother told me if she needed a sitter for the younger ones, she'd have Stan watch them as he was serious and conscientious. Sid was busy with his friends. Lena apparently didn't think that Sid was taking his studies seriously enough to enter college and she used her humor to make the point. Phil tells the story of how my mother, about 5' 4" stood on a chair to be tall enough to look 6-foot Sidney in the eyes. She held a rolling pin in her hands and said jokingly "you lunga lucsh" (meaning "you long noodle") you're going to go to college if it's the last thing you do."
Adolph and Sid's violin teacher expected my brother to become a professional violinist and hoped he could qualify to study at the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia, which, even today, provides full student scholarship.
An audition was arranged for Sidney with the great 20th century violinist Joshua Heifitz who was performing in Toledo. After hearing Sid play his program, Heifitz told him he'd have to practice more to qualify for the entrance examination scheduled to take place in 3 weeks. Sid worked hard to improve the required repertoire standards and was rewarded when he received his acceptance to the school. Considering that Curtis represents the "best" of the world's talent, and it was the depth of the Great Depression, Sid was probably up against extremely stiff competition. Raising his skills to a higher level in so short a time is a measure of Sid's musical talent and abilities, but after 6 months, he chose to leave the school. He felt that at best he could become a concertmaster of an orchestra. While this is an honored position for a violinist, it couldn't offer the monetary security Sid felt he wanted for the future. His dream of becoming a doctor persuaded him to change course by entering Toledo University where he would major in pre-med.
Frankie and I were very young at the time, yet our fondest memories were hearing Sid practice the Mendelssohn violin concerto.
Lena's Support Group
During the grim years of the Depression, organizations reached out to help families in need. One of them, the Council of Jewish Women, I believe, came to my parents' rescue-especially my mother's. Young social workers helped Lena in whatever way they could, making regular visits to our home. I recall that their visitations continued long into the 1940s as I was growing up. Over time the mutual respect between my mother and her mentors evolved into friendship.
In particular, the Council helped my brothers apply for college scholarships. While the need for scholarship was based on economic hardship, a student had to pass examinations based on academic merit. Scholarships made it possible for Sid to obtain a college education. He worked hard, too, at different jobs to cover the cost of board and room. When it came time for Stanford's college tuition, along with scholarships, Sidney helped him and in turn each brother helped the next.
The Boy Scouts was such an important organization for young boys during the Depression. Always lingering in the offing was the temptation to join a "gang". My parents worried and did what they could to prevent that from happening. They talked and talked to my brothers about the value of a college education and the importance of being a good citizen and having good friends.
Sid and Stan became eagle scouts and Philip's experience with troop 37 had a great impact on his youth. Many friendships developed and the troop's leader took a special interest in Phil. The Boy Scouts was a social outlet for Frankie as well as an opportunity for him to learn life-long skills by way of earning badges.
My Parents' Life
Lena was in her late 30s, Adolph in his mid-40s during these years. Good that youth was on their side to handle the daily stress and physical demands.
My mother worked hard taking care of a home and 6 children. She washed the clothes by hand (up to the mid 1940s), hung them outside in good weather or carried them down a long flight of stairs to dry. And then came the ironing, not to speak of the cooking. A housewife at that time shopped and cooked fresh food daily (just icebox refrigeration). There was a small grocery at Bancroft and Fulton streets, next door to a candy store I loved. They had sugar orange slices I could buy for one penny. But the kosher markets were quite a distance from our house. But the kosher markets were quite a distance from our house. Daily shopping was a necessity for those who walked, having to carry their groceries home. As the children aged, we were given this task and I recall how unhappy I was when I had to return for something that wasn't included in the first trip. Fortunately, Bort's grocery store was close by.
Friday was an important cooking day. Lena prepared a special meal of chicken soup with the trimmings. This was quite a ritual as she had to buy a fresh chicken that was immediately killed. At home, any unplucked feathers had to be burned off on the stove. Then with a rolling pin and a knife, Lena cracked open the chicken, cleaned it out and began the cooking preparations. One of the delicacies was the unborn eggs which went into the marvelous- tasting broth.
For special Jewish holidays, Lena prepared gefilte fish (chopped fish made into small patties and simmered in a broth of vegetables). This too was a monumental task. My father went to the fishmonger downtown and brought home carp and mackerel/or white fish depending on what we could afford. He brought the fresh fish home and kept it the bathtub until the next day when my mother went to work on it. She had to open it, take out the innards including the unborn eggs, which she cooked in the fish broth. She had to remove the fish meat from the skins, (a fete I tried once, only) and then by hand chop the meat to a smooth texture to roll into patties. My mother prepared these weekly meals all the years I was growing up. Women didn't have to lift weights to build muscle strength.
A memory that stands out in my mind is my mother's teeth. Dentist visits were probably limited to having teeth extractions. The value of having visits for the prevention of tooth decay was not yet known and had it been, few people could afford the expense, nor would have gone. Dental work was painful and most people waited until it was absolutely necessary to get help. Lena probably had large, strong teeth but lacking dental care and calcium, they gradually decayed. Many people suffered from the same affliction, I'm sure, but Lena lived with them until after the war, the late 1940s, when there was some money for new dentures. My mother was in her late 40s. The impressions were modeled from Phil's teeth, I believe. What a difference it made in Lena's face. She looked so much younger. Adolph never saw a dentist either. He had very strong teeth that didn't decay because he believed in the benefits of drinking milk. Nonetheless, having no dental hygiene, he eventually had to have dentures, too.
Good Times Too
In spite of all of that I have said regarding the bad economic times, adults and children went about living their life. My parents were young and did what young people do no matter the limitations. They gathered with friends and even had parties. Rose Reinstein, Esther Leah and Max's youngest child told me she recalls my parents attending a Halloween party given by her parents. My cousin Sadie Rubin told me that Lena and Sadie's mother, Millie, went to Saturday movie matinees. Adolph played chess with the men and delved into long, political discussions. I remember the highlight of the week for me was having my mother take me to a movie, followed by a stop at the 5 and 10 cent store where she treated me to a hot dog and a glass of chocolate milk.
I have a memory of my mother walking down the street arm in arm with her friend, Mrs. Zwick. That used to embarrass me as I never saw my friends' mothers doing it-that is, touching one another. In 1969 Ted and I traveled to Europe for the first time, starting in Athens, Greece. There I saw the same thing. Not only did women walk arm in arm, but men did too. I came to understand that in some European countries, unlike our Puritan society, people express their affections in public with no inhibitions.
The radio, movies, music, dancing, sports, the Art Museum, picnics, the Zoo, swimming in the Maumee river were some of the ways people could enjoy life in Toledo. Along with these diversions, people made the most with what they had-each other. Friends and family having one another to lean on were powerful elements to temper the bleak years. Life, itself, was valued in all ways and parents did what they could to instill this spirit in their children.
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