Pearl

A Grandmothers Stories By Pearl Adels Loeb

Edited and Annotated by Gary A. Loeb
2009 G. A. Loeb

Copyright Information:
Type of Work: ............................................. Text Registration Number / Date: ........................ TX0007342483 / 2009-11-06 Application Title: ........................................ Pearl, A Grandmother's Stories. Title:............................................................ Pearl, A Grandmother's Stories. Description: ................................................. Print material, 130 p. Copyright Claimant: .................................... Gary Adels Loeb, 1954- , Transfer: By inheritance. Date of Creation: ......................................... 2009 Date of Publication: ..................................... 2009-04-15 Nation of First Publication: .......................... United States Authorship on Application:.......................... Pearl Adels Loeb, 1899-1991; Domicile: United States; Citizenship: United States. Authorship: text. Gary Adels Loeb, 1954- ; Domicile: United States; Citizenship: United States. Authorship: text, photograph(s), compilation, editing, artwork. Pre-existing Material: .................................. photographs, text. Basis of Claim: ............................................ text, photographs, compilation, editing, artwork. Rights and Permissions: ............................... Gary Loeb, 26 Violet Lane, West Grove, PA, 19390-9531, garyadels@verizon.net Copyright Note: ........................................... C.O. correspondence. Names: ........................................................ Loeb, Pearl Adels, 1899-1991 Loeb, Gary Adels, 1954-

Permissions: Pearl, A Grandmothers Stories and the original notebooks of Pearl Adels Loeb have been donated to the American Jewish Archives (AJA) for preservation and dissemination of Jewish history. Pearl, A Grandmothers Stories is published with the consent of the AJA.

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Foreword
Grandma Pearl Adels Loeb hand-wrote two notebooks of personal stories and family anecdotes between 1977 and 1988. I have combined these stories about the Adels and Loeb families and the various acquaintances in her life to provide a view of life in the twentieth century as seen from Pearl's eyes. She wrote the stories as they sprang from her memory in no particular order, and repeated some stories, albeit with some changes in content. I have tried to reassemble the tales chronologically with the help of dates and years that she jotted down in the notebook margins. Conveniently, the stories could be separated into several distinct time periods, signifying major events in her life. Part 1 The South covers the period before she was born, including her parents and siblings experiences Mississippi, Missouri and Tennessee between 1871 and 1899. Part 2 The Adels Family in New York City contains stories of the Adels family in New York City from 1899 up to the time of meeting her husband-to-be Martin Loeb in 1919. Part 3 The Loeb Family in New York City is about the Loebs coming to New York from Poland, and continues up to the birth of her daughter, Judy, and the move to Albany in 1924. Part 4 - The Loeb Family in Albany includes the establishment of Adels-Loeb Jewelers, the birth of her son, David, and the Albany life, occasionally interjecting anecdotes about her remaining New York City relatives. Part 5 - Martin's Classmates and Reunions is a special section containing stories about some of the West Point reunions attended by Martin and Pearl during the 1940's and 1950's. Part 6 - More of the Loeb Family in Albany offering impressions of her Albany family from the 1940s through the 1980's, and a commentary relating to the changes that affected Adels-Loeb between the store's opening in 1924 and its closing in 1983. While assembling and editing Pearls stories I compared her details against researched facts, such as birth, marriage, death, immigration and census records, etc., and either revised the details without changing the overall content, or added footnotes to show the differences from Grandmas original stories or to enhance her content. Pearl was born in New York City on November 22, 1899, on the eve of the new century, and lived a long and full life. She left us just after her 92nd birthday, on December 10, 1991. Her life touched many people, and left a lasting impression of a strong, honest, and dedicated woman, whose family was first in her heart. Gary A. Loeb (Last updated February 15, 2014)

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Introduction The stories in this book are "grandmother's tales", probably remembered only by me, as I am the last of the older members of the Loeb and Adels families. I wrote down these stories so that the younger generations might enjoy these reminiscences of long ago. Many of the stories I have written just as I remember them. Others I wrote down just as my mother, father or the elder Loebs told them to me. Pearl Adels Loeb

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Part 1 - The South

My father, Isaac Adels, came to America from Poland at the age of 14 years old. He arrived in 1871 through Houston, Texas, where his uncle was staying.1 Although there is no record of when his uncle arrived, I know that this uncle was Papa's father's brother.2 Pop lived with his uncle, traveling the country roads by horse selling to farmers the various wares provided by his uncle. Papa didnt talk much about the time that he lived in the South. But, he told me a story about the panthers that were in the woods through which he traveled. As he described, panthers only struck moving, living objects. The return home from his travels was usually in the dark of night and the horse knew the route from memory. On one trip, suddenly the horse stopped and froze, motionless. Pop did the same, knowing that the horse could sense something and would proceed only when it was safe to do so. Pop always said he could only believe what he could see and touch. However, he told about an instance when he was on his faithful horse and the animal became quite disturbed because of some unseen danger. Although Pop was an excellent equestrian, he still had difficulty controlling the beast. Suddenly a vision of his father, who had been dead for some time, appeared before him and led the horse for a while until the safe passage was assured. Then the vision disappeared. Is there an explanation? I know of none. This was the only time Papa ever mentioned his father to me. I don't know what his father's first name was, nor did I ever see a photo of him. I do, however, have a photo of his mother, whose name was Jedis.3 She died a month after I was born in 1899. As far as I knew there was no one in our family given her name. Therefore, I gave her name to my daughter, Ellen Judith Loeb. Ellen was after my mother, Esther, and Judith was closest name I could translate from Jedis. ****** I never knew the year that Papa left Texas and moved to Mississippi. Possibly it was when Papa's
1

Jedis Adels

Isaacs death certificate says that he was 64 when he died in February 1922, and had resided in the U.S. for 56 years. That means that he was born in 1857 (assuming his birthday was after February), and might have arrived in the US as early as 1866 at the age of 8 or 9 years old. There is no sign of him in the 1870 Census, and 20th Century Census show him immigrating in either 1875 or 1878. 2 Isaacs uncle was Jacob Adels, father of Josef Adels. 3 Isaacs death certificate lists Moses Adels and Judith Goldstein as his parents.

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uncle returned to Poland from Texas. Papa settled in Natchez, opening a general store there. 4 He used to travel the riverboats from Natchez to St. Louis for business, and it was in St. Louis that he eventually met Mamma. ****** I knew Papa had a heavy hickory cane, which he kept in his closet. I never knew him to walk with a cane. So after years of curiosity I asked him about it. He told me that there were times when he had to travel on his horse to sell or deliver merchandise and supplies to people who could not get to his store in town. Papa always carried the cane on his saddle for protection. Living in remote areas, most folks had vicious dogs for guarding their premises, and kept the dogs chained outside their homes. On one of Papa's trips a dog broke his chain and proceeded to attack him. Papa found the strong cane was the perfect weapon for such a frightening encounter. ****** I remember Mamma telling me about when she was a young girl living in St. Louis. She lived with her parents, two sisters, Rose and Annie, and a brother, Abe, up two flights of stairs in what we would call a tenement house.5 The house had no running water, so Mamma, being the oldest child, had to go to the "water station" a block away to fill two pails of water, walk home and carry it up to the family quarters. I'm sure it was not an easy job.

Catherine Goldstein (Esthers Mother)

Papa married Mamma in St. Louis on August 6, 1882.6 The love letters he wrote to her are some of my treasures, as well as a note and card of congratulations on their wedding. Here is one of the letters:

St. Louis, Mo. Miss Esther M. Goldstein

May 10th, 1882

My Dear Esther! Your kind letter to hand, the wick pen is unable to point out the great pleasure which your Dear and sweet letter is to me. I can tell you so much, that you my darling is the only one which will make my life bright and happy. The minute which I can not see you is to me a year long. The time when I am idle I read your Sweet letters over many times. I am many thousand times obliged to you for your sweet Kiss which you
4

1880 US Census shows a J. Adels (age 42) and his nephew, I. G. Adels (age 23) living in Leflore County, Mississippi. These facts, including ages and initials, strongly support these entries as being Jacob and Isaac Adels. 5 A postcard from the period, probably from Isaac Adels, is addressed to E. Goldstein at 710 Morgan St. 6 Reference: St. Louis Marriage Certificate for Isaac Adels and Esther Goldstein.

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sent me, and in return I ask of you to be so kind and accept a Thousand Kisses from me. O, how anxious am I to know what you my dear wishes to tell me Sunday, dear. You put it off for a long term but I am satisfied to wait in case you can not tell it to me before Sunday. I close my writing with kind regards to you my dear. Please answer as soon as possible I remain your True Lover Isaac G. Adels P.S. I am a thousand times obliged to you for your cards which you sent me. From your True Lover Isaac G. Adels

Papa and Mamma lived in Florence, Alabama, for a short time after they were married. Their house was in the deep woods. The house had a ground level porch with no railing. Two young deer that lived near the house, a doe and a buck, became attached to the family and would often lie on the porch. After sitting on the porch for hours, they would suddenly begin to walk back and forth. The deer had a great sense of smell. When this happened Papa knew a stranger was within a mile of the house. They were very fleet footed and used to play games, jumping over a bed or chair, getting very close but never touching. Soon their antlers were growing, and for fear that someone would be hurt when going into the house, they had to be forced to go back to the wild. This was not an easy task. The deer had to be tied with a rope and slowly led away one-at-a-time by Papa on his horse. The doe returned to the house many times, but the buck (just like a man) found his way in the world, not to return. They soon moved their business to Tennessee, first living in Nashville and later in Franklin. Moe, Lou and Etta were born in Nashville, Harry and Sam in Franklin.7 Their store carried all sorts of general merchandise for home and farm, and clothing of all kinds. The Negro trade that supplied goods were paid by the month, and they knew they would be given fair value for the merchandise received. Other dealers had serious problems with the black customers, but the customers respected Pop and Mamma. Possibly one reason was because Papa was a crack rifle shot, although he said he never had to use it. If customers were a little short of money, Papa would trust them until another payday. Help was so inexpensive. There was always at least one "mammy" for the children, a cook, a "cleaner", a parlor maid, a carriage boy and of course a young black boy who would be in the children's room at night. The summer nights there were unbearably hot and the mosquitoes were hungry. I was told that the beds were covered with "mosquito
7

Isaac & Esther Adels in Nashville, Tennessee

Moe (Moses) was born May 21, 1884. Lou (Louis) was born February 11, 1885. Etta was born November 11, 1887. Harry was born October 25, 1889. Sam (Samuel) was born July 31, 1891.

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netting" hung from some kind of contraption. A large four-finned fan, which looked like a propeller, was attached to the ceiling in the room where the children slept. Since it had to be manually activated (there was no electricity), the black boy had a cot in the children's room, and a long cord from the fan was tied to his big toe. A slight movement of his foot would propel the fan to stir a bit of air! All knew mamma as Miss Esther. "Mammy" Charlotte took care of, and was devoted to Etta. Until I came along long after the family moved north, she was the only girl among four boys. Mammy Charlotte always had a large key on a string hung about her neck. Unfortunately one day, while she was holding Etta, the key found its way into Etta's eye. Etta was to have many problems with that eye all of her life. Mamma was a very small person. When Harry was born in 1889, the midwife had a difficult time in helping with the delivery (he was a very big baby). The nearest hospital was in Nashville, and Mamma's life depended on getting her there. Papa hitched up the horses, put a mattress in the wagon, placed Mama on it with the midwife sitting alongside her, and proceeded down the dirt road to the big city. As I was told, Mamma almost expired during the journey. Papa prayed to God and promised that if she would live he would offer a special prayer for her every day of his life. I can still see him so many years later, even after she died, putting on his derby hat and standing in our bay window of our dining room, keeping his promise of so long ago. Mamma was not well after Sam was born and Papa was told the best doctors were only to be found in New York. So, the business was sold in 1899 and the whole family and Mammy Charlotte moved to New York City. 8

1900 US Census record shows Isaac Adels (41), wife Esther (35), and children Moses (17), Louis (14), Etta (12), Harry (10), Samuel (9) and Pearl (6 months) living in Manhattan, NY, together with a Kate Goldstein (55), possibly Esthers mother.

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Part 2 - The Adels Family in New York City

The bank with which Papa had business transactions introduced him to a Mr. Blackstone. Shortly after the two men formed a partnership, Mr. Blackstone forged a check, withdrew all the money and disappeared to a South American country, never to be found. Of course that was the time I entered the world! To support the family, Papa, who was a very strong man, got a job on a truck delivering huge bolts of cloth. Once, the large hook, used to lower the cloth bolts, missed its mark and badly injured Papa's leg. Moe, who was sixteen years old, had gotten a job as "clean up" boy with the jewelry concern of Reis and Yankower at three dollars a week. He told his employer about Papa's accident, and the word got to one of the bosses whose brother was a doctor. So, Papa was treated without payment. Moe remained with the company and progressed in the jewelry business, the start of a long road for us! After Papa lost his money to Mr. Blackstone, our family moved into a tenement. The quarters were crowded, of course. Furthermore, Mrs. Levine, a dear friend in Nashville, sent her oldest son, Morris, to New York to live with the "wealthy" Adels family and seek his fortune. An extra cot went into a boy's room. Morris never told his mother about our financial situation, because after obtaining a job, his few dollars a week for room and board were so badly needed. It all worked out. Even Moe walked to work every day to save the five-cent fare on the "El". The rest of the Levines eventually came to New York and remained close friends for life.9 ****** Mamma informed her boys that even the loaf of bread needed for dinner cost the family a nickel. But in spite of the need for money, she gave each boy five cents to keep in his pocket, so that if they were tempted to steal an apple from the Italian man's outdoor stand, they should remember that he also had a large family to feed. So, spend your nickel to buy the apple and nothing would be said. ****** Harry was always getting into trouble of one kind or another. On the first day of school in New York in 1899, the teacher got angry with one of the pupils. She threw a book, the boy ducked, and poor Harry "got it". ****** The tenement house's metal fire escape had many uses. While I don't remember this incident, it was told to me many times over the years. In 1902 a German "oom-pah" band would often play in the street area and my mother would sit with me at the open window to hear it.

The 1900 Census shows only one Morris Levine who was born in Tennessee (age 16) living in New York City at 13 E. 8th Street with his very large family (parents and 8 children). This was a long way from the Adels at 10 E. 114th Street. The same family (but before Morris was born) is shown in Nashville in the 1880 Census at 103 Broad Street, not far from 603 N. Summer, where the Adels lived in the 1890s.

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Once one of the songs they were playing was "Honey, Stay In Your Own Backyard". 10 After throwing a few pennies to the players, I went into the parlor where we had a "Horace Waters" upright piano that Papa had bought second hand for twenty dollars. With one finger I picked out the tune, and then put the whole thing together with two hands. I was two years and three months old. My sister and brothers had all been given piano lessons, and while none of them progressed very much, each one had one selection to play for guests. My father would always remark how much each piano piece cost him in lessons. Etta went to P.S. 119, 11 and when I was three years old she took me to school to play piano for the "assembly". Of course I could not reach the keys, so we carried a bamboo footstool whenever I played away from home. At the time I was too young for lessons, but Mamma arranged for me to play for a famous teacher, Rafael Joseffy. He had taught Josef Hofman, who was at that time the most renowned pianist.12 Joseffy felt I should study with one of his assistants until I could read or write. They charged five dollars a lesson, which, of course, was out of the question for Papa to pay. ****** I remember Papa telling about my brother Lou's first job. Lou did not want to go to school. This upset Papa very much, so he insisted that if Lou did not want to get a decent education, he must go to work. Papa had friends in the wholesale business, manufacturing boys' "wash suits". Mr. Isaacson, the boss, gave Lou a job sweeping the floor of the huge loft. Papa wanted Mr. Isaacson to make Lous work so tough that he would quit and go back to school. Mr. Isaacson wrapped up a boy's suit in paper and told Lou to get an order for some from Macy's. He figured that this would be impossible and would discourage Lou. At the story goes, Lou went to Macy's on 34th Street and went to the department where wash suits were sold. Let me add here that Lou was a very unusually handsome boy, with teeth like pearls, rosy cheeks, and jet-black hair. A sales lady, thinking he was a customer, showed him a number of suits, none of which seemed to please him. Just then, the buyer for that department happened to go by, and the sales girl, thinking to have a bit of fun, told the buyer of the problem. When the buyer asked him what kind of suit he was looking for, Lou opened his package. He got the order from Macy's! There is nothing like being at the right place at the right time. This happened about 1902 or 1903. Something like that could never happen today. ******

Yes, there is such a song! Published 1899. Words by Karl Kennett. Music by Lyn Udall. Sung with great success by Truly Shattuck, says a copy available from the Indiana University Sheet Music Collections Internet site. 11 In 1905 there was a P.S. 119 in Manhattan at West 133rd Street at 8th Avenue. 1900 US Census records show the Adels family lived in Manhattan, so Etta probably attended this school.
10 12

Rafael Joseffy (1852-1915). The Hungarian-born U.S. pianist was one of the great performers of his day. Josef Casimir Hofman (1876-1957) was a Polish piano child prodigy.

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Aunt Jennie was my Grandpa Goldstein's sister. She died when I was a little girl, but I do remember going to visit her with Mamma. She had a son, Ike, who was very tall and thin. Today we would describe him as an introvert, because one could only find him either at work or home with his mother. He spoke in monosyllables and gave the impression of being a very stupid person. This was not so, as he had an excellent education, even in those days, and spoke many languages fluently. He was employed by the Federal Government until he died, and to the great surprise of all who thought they knew him, got a great write up in one of the papers. ****** Mamma used to take me to visit an old lady named Mrs. Moskowitz. I have no idea whether or not she was a relative, but she was the cause of a great tumult in my mind. I was very dark skinned and my hair was very black. I was evidently much darker than the other children in my family were. So, Mrs. Moskowitz used to call me a "schwartzer", always adding the remark that I didn't belong in the family. This remark seemed to penetrate my mind and I came to the conclusion that I was an adopted child. Whenever Mamma would reprimand me, I would immediately feel that she did not love me as much as the other children because I was adopted. I had this in my mind for many years, until I finally told my sister when she was angry with me. It was all settled quickly when Papa obtained my birth certificate and showed it to me. People should really be careful what they say in front of children. ****** Uncle Abe was Mamma's only brother who lived to young manhood. Three or four of her siblings had died as infants. My recollection of him was that he always had a bag of "juju bees" in his pocket for me. I still like juju bees. Uncle Abe never married and settled outside of Denver, Colorado. He died when he was twenty-seven, and is buried there.13 Mamma's sister, Annie, was married to Aaron Cohen. They had four children, Louis, Kate, Sam and Etta, and lived in Osceola, Arkansas. 14 I believe Aaron had a small store there. When Etta was two years old, Aunt Annie became very ill. Aaron felt it would be too difficult for him to care for the children for a considerable length of time, so the family came north.15 The two boys were taken to Aaron's sister in Chester, Pennsylvania. Kate was left with another relative in Chester, and my mother took little Etta. We always called her "Little Etta", because my sister Etta was home, too. Little Etta remained with us for four years, and of course we became very attached to her. When it was time for her to go back South, Mamma wanted to adopt her. While we were not rich, we were financially better off than Annie was. Instead of leaving the child with us, Aaron placed both girls, Etta and Kate, in an orphanage in
13

Per Cleveland, Ohio, birth records, Abe Goldstein was born March 4, 1874. Pearl said he died at the age of 27, which would have been about 1901. However, Pearl would only have been 1 year old in 1901, too young to remember when Abe visited with his jujubes. Abe probably visited 1902 or later, and therefore died in Denver after that. 14 1900 US Census shows in Osceola, Arkansas, Aaron Cohen (30), wife Annie (21) and son Louis (9 months), and in the 1910 Census for Osceola, Aaron (42), Annie (30), Louis (10), Samuel (8), Katie (6) and Etta (5). 15 The Cohen family was still living in Arkansas in 1910 per the US Census, at which time Etta was 5 years old. Therefore, Pearl was a few years shy, saying Etta was two years old when they moved north to Pennsylvania.

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Pennsylvania. I don't know what Kate was taught there, but Etta learned to become a practical nurse. 16 We don't know what happened to Kate.17 Louis later married a girl from Shaw, Mississippi, and had two children. Her last name was Wolfe. Both Louis and his wife died very young from pneumonia, which they developed when the great flood of the Mississippi River destroyed their home.18 I don't know anything about the children. Aunt Annie settled in Birmingham, after Aaron died. She later married a gentile ( i.e. not Jewish) man named Leach, with whom she had a daughter, Frances, and a son.19 When she became very ill, I went to Birmingham to set up a fund with a local priest to see to her needs. My brother, Lou, paid for Frances to live in a convent.20 Annie's son, Sam, lived with his mother. Annie died shortly after I returned home.21 While in Birmingham, I did some marketing for them and was so amused to hear Yiddish spoken with a southern accent in the Jewish market. Aunt Rose, another of mom's sisters, and Uncle Lou Skolnik lived with their two daughters, Miriam and Isabel, in Lone Tree, Iowa.22 Rose came to visit Mamma in New York, and brought the two girls along. They were three and five years old. Rose fell in love with New York, especially the department stores. She first bought a beautiful, long evening gown, something Mamma never had. Then she bought a long wrap to go with the gown, together with

16

Andy Dattel identified that Etta Cohen married a man with the last name Morris, and had a daughter, Mary. In the 1930 US Census there is a listing in Chester, PA, of Etta Morris (widowed hospital nurse, age 25) with a daughter Mary Ann (3). This listing says they both were born in Alabama. But Etta, removed from her family at an early age, and having her mother later live in Alabama, could have reported her origin in error. Andy contacted Mary Morris Isner about 2005 and confirmed the relationship. Mary died December 12, 2008. 17 I believe that Kate appears in the 1920 Census in Shaw(ton), MS, as the 15 year old niece of Ben and Ida Cohen. This is supported by Louis WW-1 Draft Card showing him as living in Shaw, MS, and Pearls claim that Louis married a girl from Shaw. 18 Louis grandson, Andy Dattel, notes that Louis married Anna Ray Wolff. There is a WW I Draft Card for Louis Harry Cohen, living in Shaw, MS, with nearest relative listed as Mrs. A. Cohen in Salt Lake City, Utah. Louis died in 1935 in Philadelphia, PA, near where Aaron Jerome Cohen says he had moved with the family to take a job as a sign painter. Louis was buried in Brookhaven, PA, (Ohav Shalom Cemetery). Near his burial place is a grave for an Aaron Cohen, d. 29 Jan 1913, possibly his father. Anna Ray died in Louisville, KY, in 1937. Their children, Aaron Jerome Cohen and Marlene Cohen Dattel, survived them. 19 US Census research has identified the Leach family living in Birmingham in 1920 and 1930; Herschel A. Leach, wife Anita, son Thomas J. (b. 1917) and daughter Frances S. (b. 1920). Also, listed in the 1920 Census is Annies daughter Etta (age 15?). Frances married Herbert Tapscott in Birmingham. Descendents of Thomas have not yet been located. 20 Sacred Heart Academy (Cullman, AL) records show that Frances transferred to the Academy from Phillips High School in Birmingham, probably when her mother became ill, and attended the Academy from 1936 until her graduation in 1939. 21 Annie (Anita) died in Birmingham on 22 Dec 1938. The informant on her death certificate was Etta Leach Morris. 22 1910 US Census record for Davenport, Iowa, shows Henry L. Skolnik (36), wife Rosa (28, born Ohio) and daughters Marion (4) and Isabel (3). 1920 US Census record for Salt Lake City, Utah, shows Henry L. Skolnik (46), wife Rose (38, born Ohio), daughters C. Miriam (14) and Isabella (13) and father-in-law Philip Goldstein (76). Clearly this Rose is Philips daughter and Esther Goldsteins sister.

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shoes, etc. Mamma wondered where she would wear all this finery in Lone Tree, population 1200. Well, she did not return to Lone Tree. She prevailed upon her husband to sell his furniture business and move to Detroit.23 He was a sweet gentle guy, who had always lived in a small town and was not able to cope with big city people. So, while Rose could find a use for the elegant clothes, Lou lost his business, went to work for strangers, and died soon after. Miriam Skolnik married Joe Diem. They had no children. Isabel Skolnik had a beautiful soprano voice. Shortly after she married, it was discovered that she had diabetes. The young couple could not manage all the medical expenses. So my brother Lou sent her a substantial amount of money every month until she died. I believe she was in her late twenties when she died. Strange, now that I think of her having a fine voice, I believe that talent ran in the family. When my mother was in school in Cleveland,24 she was called to sing for the school assembly "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean". She had a fine lyric soprano voice. The principal of the school sent a note to her father, recommending that she be given vocal lessons. Grandpa's response was that no daughter of his was going to be an actress. ****** In 1904 the World's Fair was in St. Louis. Since Grandpa Goldstein (my mother's father) lived there,25 and Mamma and I could stay at his house, Papa decided he could afford the trip for us. I remember very little of the Fair, but I recall going into a tent with Mamma to have the Gypsy tell her fortune. It was not a good fortune, the Gypsy said, because she could see so much sickness ahead. Today we do not believe in fortune telling, but the prophecy was all too true. ****** We had an iceman who delivered a large piece of ice every day. The icebox had a deep tray underneath it that had to be emptied every day in the summer and less frequently in the winter. During an extremely hot spell in 1904 our ice supply was running out. Mamma asked me (I was about four years old) if I knew where the ice man's place was, just a block from where we lived. Of course I thought I did, so our servant girl, who could not speak a word of English, was sent along with me. Well, instead of turning to the right, we turned to the left and walked, and walked, and walked. She would pick me up when I cried, and put me down when she could carry me no more. Our family doctor, Dr. Bernstein, who had been our doctor for ages, just happened to come along in his horse and carriage. Sensing a problem, he stopped, asked a few

23

1930 US Census record for Detroit, Michigan, shows Henry L. Skolnik (56), wife Rose (48, born Ohio) and daughters Corinne M. (24) and Isabel (23). 24 1880 US Census record for Cleveland, Ohio, shows Philip Goldstein (42, born Poland), wife Catherine (40, born Poland) and children, Esther (15, born New York), Abraham (6, born Ohio) and Ann (1, born Ohio). 25 1910 US Census record for St. Louis, Missouri, shows Philip Goldstein (66). Not definite that this is same, as age doesnt agree.

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questions of me, said, "You are the Adels' child," and took us home in style. In the meanwhile, all four brothers, Etta, Papa, Mamma, and the police were looking for us. ****** Harry got in trouble again in 1906.26 Sam and Harry were flying kites up on the roof of the building in which we lived. Well, Harry ran with his kite, and ran right off the roof! Fortunately, a telephone pole was close to the wall and his trousers caught on one of the hooks on the pole. As Papa was walking down the street on his way home from work, he saw a small crowd around the pole, all looking up. Sam ran to Papa screaming, "Harry is up there!" Papa took off his coat, got through the crowd and yelled at Harry to stop moving, fearing that whatever part of his clothing that was caught on the hook could rip. Papa climbed the pole. When he got close to Harry, he maneuvered so that he faced out from the pole, got Harry's legs around his shoulders and then raised up to unhook the boy. It must have been quite a feat to turn back around on the pole, but the decent was uneventful. I'm certain Harry's buttocks were properly spanked when he got to the ground. After all, the boys were not supposed to be on the roof in the first place. ****** Somehow, bits of the past emerge every day. Recently, Etta Adels Meyer was visiting one of her husband's relatives in Albany. She is a daughter of my father's cousin, Joseph Adels. We had lunch together, and reviewed so many things of the past. Her father, Joe, came to America when I was about six years old,27 after leaving his wife and one or two children in Poland. He was a delightful, very, very hard-working man. Mamma and Papa helped him as much as they could, but there was so little they could do in the way of money. Joe called them "Tante" and "Uncle", and never forgot their kindness to him and his family when all of them arrived in America. In that era, little neighborhood stores that sold candy and groceries also had small soda fountains where one could buy an ice cream soda or root beer. These fountains were about three feet long with marble tops. Joe would buy a second hand one and sell it for a few dollars profit, carrying it to the new purchaser's store, sometimes many city blocks. Mamma encouraged Joe to bring his wife and children to America and somehow we got the money together to send for them. When they arrived via Ellis Island, 28 they were in need of so many things, really bare necessities. My brothers, sister, and I soon found our meager wardrobes even emptier. Joe soon opened his own little store, but continued to buy and sell the little fountains. More children were born, but Joe, really by the sweat of his brow, progressed
26 27

Harry was 17 and Sam was 15 years old in 1906. Jozef (Joseph) Adels immigration papers report his arrival in New York on May 13, 1904. 28 Ellis Island passenger list for SS Southwark, arriving January 4, 1906, shows a Leash Edels (24) and her children, Feige (F) (age 3), Chane (F) (age 8) and Selig (M) (age 2) from Warschaw joining husband and father Jos. Edels, 46 Riverdele(?) St., New York. Notes from Bea Moss (distant cousin-Adels descendent) show Joseph Adels married to Lena (Leah), with children Fannie, Etta, Anna, and Harry. This is probably the same family. 1920 US Census records for Yonkers, New York, show Joseph Adels (46), wife Lena (39), and children Annie (22), Fannie (17), Harold (16) and Etta (13). All were born in Russia except Etta, born in New York. The Census very closely matches the adjusted ages of the Ellis Island arrivals; Leash (Lena), Chane (Annie), Feige (Fannie) and Selig (Harold).

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financially. We always remained in close touch over the years. I gave piano lessons to their daughter, Fannie, who was very talented. She became a very successful travel agent, and traveled to most of the interesting places in the world. I learned from Etta Meyer that my father stayed with Joe Adels' father in Houston, Texas, when he arrived there about 1870. Joe's father did not remain and went back to Poland. Maybe, that is why my father left Texas to settle in the South. Joe adored Mamma, and when she died he promised to say a prayer for her every day as long as he lived. This he did for Papa, also. Joe finally brought a large home in Yonkers, 29 and retired a few years before he died. Only in America! Another relative was Charlie Jacobs. He was my Grandpa Goldstein's nephew. His mother was Grandpa Goldstein's sister. Charlie was in the men's clothing business here in Albany30 and his mother, Sarah, lived in Troy. 31 Charlie and his first wife, Gladys, lived on Madison Avenue and Grand Street about the year 1907. He was not a very pleasant man. But Gladys was adorable, dainty, pretty as a little gypsy, and a very talented natural pianist. Just to have a little spending money (he was stingy) she would play for parties and sing. My mother told me a story of how she wanted so much to have a baby. She thought that having a baby would induce Charlie to have a better disposition, and consulted a doctor for advice in conceiving. The doctor did some minor surgery, she developed an infection, and died shortly after. She was 22 years old. Well, a few years later Charlie married Sadie. She changed him, all right! He bought a house on Myrtle Avenue, and the talk of the town was that her bedroom was furnished all in French style furniture. She never had any children, either. But when Charlie died, he left her in a secure financial position. I think she died about 1972. ****** In 1907, we lived in the Bronx on 141st Street. The Haskell family lived in the same building.32 Mr. Haskell was a small man with a big limp and a mean disposition. His wife was a nice looking, hard-working woman, who received very little help at home from her two sons and daughter. The boys were big fellows. One of the boys we called "Tootie", came to our flat to play on our piano. Well, Mr. Haskell would get a kick out of beating his poor wife. Papa listened to her cries once too much. He rang their bell and grabbed Mr. Haskell. Papa informed the two big Haskell boys that they were big enough to protect their mother, and he told Mr.
29

1930 US Census showed that Joe Adels, wife Lena and daughter Fannie lived at 390 Warburton Ave., Yonkers, NY. 1920 Census showed them at 88 Maple. 30 1920 and 1930 US Census shows Charles and Sadie G. Jacobs in Albany, NY. The 1920 Census includes two adopted sons living with them. 31 This story doesnt match Census records and birth dates. Sarah Jacobs (ne Jacobs) is only 10 years older than the Charlie Jacobs living in Albany. So, she cant be his mother. Thanks to Burt Heisman, I found out that this Charlie Jacobs was the brother of Max, Sarahs husband. So Sarah was Charlies sister -in-law, not mother. 32 1910 US Census shows the Adels family residing at 230 West 141st St., Manhattan, NY. But, 1900 US Census showed Haskel family (Arthur (37), Eva (35), Hugo (12), Morris (11), Bella (8), Herman (4), Lottie (2)) living in same building as the Adels family, which was on East 114th St., Manhattan.

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Haskell that if he ever hit her again he would answer to Papa, who was really a strong man. There were no more beatings after that. 141st Street in the Bronx33 was a new neighborhood, and we had some fine neighbors. Adler & Eckstein were the first bakers for the trade of rye bread. The Adlers lived on our floor.34 The Adler & Eckstein horse and wagons could be seen on many streets, and the bread was five cents for a large loaf. They had three children, Adele, Elmer, and Ruth. Adele died from a mastoid operation when she was fourteen years old. Now, in 1977, Elmer and Ruth are still my friends. He really wanted to marry me, but I never felt that way about him. The Adler & Eckstein bakery and all the paraphernalia were sold to the Pechters Bakeries for a million dollars, and Elmer and Ruth have lived luxuriously all these years on the investments of that money. At that time there were no taxes like we have now. ****** I just heard some fire engines and I went outdoors to see where they stopped. What a difference there is between the present apparatus and that which I remember from when I was young. Two, or sometimes four black horses pulled the engine or pumper, always with a Dalmatian dog sitting next to the driver. The dogs were not known then as Dalmatians, but as "Fire Dogs". ****** We always had parties and fun at Christmas time. Until I was about 8 years old, I really believed in Santa Claus. I would always hang up a stocking on the mantle piece, which topped a fake fireplace, and on Christmas morning there were always presents and lots of goodies in my stocking. I had wanted a desk and chair for my November 22 birthday, but Mamma said she didn't think we could afford it that year. Mamma had told me that since she could not get it for my birthday perhaps Santa would bring it. There was a very large combination storage and clothes closet in Mamma's bedroom, and somehow I discovered the desk hidden in there, covered not too well. That was how I found out that there was no Santa. Harry and Sam told me to hang my stocking anyhow, because I did want a surprise. In the morning there were lots of bulges the stocking. My brothers had filled it with coal. I did get my desk and chair anyhow. ****** Our house was always the gathering place for our friends. There might be at our house we six children, some all grown up, Papa and Mamma, and anywhere from six to eight extras. Sometimes Mamma would disappear into her bedroom, put on many petticoats under her full skirt, give me a signal and I would play the music for the Can-can. She had very small feet with high insteps and her high button shoes would really flash as she danced. Papa was always very reserved and pretended to be shocked when she performed. But, I really think he got a big kick out of it.
33 34

1910 US Census showed Adels family at West 141st St, Manhattan, not in the Bronx. In the 1900 US Census, the Adlers can be found at 124 E. 118th St, and in 1910 at 1143 Lexington Avenue, NYC.

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****** There was not as much paper refuse when I was young as there is now, because there were no paper towels, plates, cups, napkins and such. One used cloth towels and linen or cotton napkins, which of course could be laundered, and dishes or glasses which could be washed. There were no six packs of soda, beer, etc. I remember when Mamma bought one bottle of cream soda for the family. It was a real treat for ten cents. ****** So many people are hitting the aspirin tablets now-a-days to cure a cold. Somehow, when I was young, we had no aspirin. We just had a small stone crock on the back of the stove containing melted butter, sliced onions, and honey. A spoon full of that would kill or cure. Of course, if one had a cough, warm chicken fat, or better yet goose grease, well rubbed in, was a sure cure! ****** Today, when one goes to the beauty parlor to have her hair dressed, a usual procedure is to "tease" the hair. Not so when Etta, who was eighteen, or Mamma needed their hair "done". Pompadour was the style, so one used an ugly rolled something-or-other called a "rat" to make the desired effect. Just to walk into the bedroom before Etta retired, and see her "rat" on the dresser of the room we shared, used to make me ill. ****** When my brothers were going to school, each one had a special white "blouse" just to wear to school. Each boy had one "blouse". As soon as they came home from school, the school blouse came off, and an old one put on. In the winter, Mamma would wash the school blouse at night, and hang it on a line in the kitchen over the coal stove. In the early morning, the blouses were dry and ready to be ironed. ****** I remember our first gas stove. It really was not a stove, just three gas burners attached to each other, which could be raised or lowered to the top of the coal stove. This was a joy in the summer, because the coal stove,

Handsome Eddy Farm Barryville, NY

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used for baking or roasting, would only need to be lit on cooler days. ****** While we never had much money, Papa always made sure that Mamma would take me out of the city during the hot summer weather. When I was seven, we went to the Handsome Eddy Farm on the Delaware River in Barryville, NY, across the river from Pennsylvania. It cost seven dollars a week for Mamma and three dollars a week for me for room and board. No one ever locked doors, so our bedroom door remained open on extra warm nights. It must have gotten cooler during one night, so Mamma reached over to my bed to cover me. When she did, a large cat that had found a warm place to sleep on my chest, left in a hurry. Mamma was sure the cat nearly smothered me. Perhaps, that is why I never did like cats. ****** Once, the local church had a concert planned, and I was asked to play piano. I still have the newspaper clipping, which I will try to find amongst some old papers. One of the local ladies 35 sang the song, "Laddie, The Cows Are In The Clover", and I can still hear it. She could have won a prize for hog calling! ****** When I was eight years old I played in a concert at the Waldorf Astoria. I was studying, at the time, with a Mr. Leopold Wolfsohn at 345 Clinton 36 Avenue in Brooklyn . There were four or five others on the program. Mamma and Papa were so proud of me. I wore a beautiful white dress that Mamma had made for me. She said it had 108 yards of lace, lots of ruffles, and a pink sash with a large bow tied in back. I also wore this dress to Moe's wedding in 1908. Mme. Wolfe, a very expensive high-style milliner, made my hat. It was a natural color leghorn, with flowers, tulle, etc. Why I needed a hat to go to the concert, I never knew. Somewhere, in the attic, there is a picture of me sitting on our front stoop, wearing the dress and hat. This picture is dated on the back, "Sunday, May 17, 1908." My hair was very long and straight as a poker, but Mamma had put it up in "kits curlers", so you would see the long stringy supposed-to-be curl.

Pearl Adels Sunday, May 17, 1908

The title is actually Maggie The Cows Are In The Clover, words and music by Albert W. Fi lson, 1886. Leopold Wolfson was listed in the 1910 US Census as a 34-year-old piano teacher living with his family at 111 West 117th St, in Manhattan. Its unknown whether he taught from home (near where the Adels lived in 1910, or in Brooklyn as Pearl claimed.
35 36

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****** Moe was always my mother's darling. Perhaps because he was the first born. She was just nineteen years old when he was born. When any family decisions, big or small, needed to be made, Moe was consulted, and his word was law in the family. In retrospect, he made some very poor decisions, but he did not think so. He had saved a few hundred dollars, and with a few hundred also from Papa, but against Papa's better judgment, he went into the wholesale jewelry business with Morris Freedman. They took an office in 14 Maiden Lane in Manhattan. Moe was the traveling salesman, while Morris ran the business. I really don't know how long this partnership lasted, although probably until 1907 or 1908. The partnership was then dissolved, and Moe formed the firm of M. Adels Company. In his travels he met Maude in Alliance, Ohio, and they were married there on March 19, 37 1908. She was far from being attractive, and had a matronly figure. Mamma was very unhappy because of Maude's ability to stir up trouble between Lou and Nettie, Etta, Sam, and even me. I was eight years old at the time, and my mother and I went to Alliance, Ohio, for the wedding. Maude's mother, Mrs. Levy, was a nice lady, but a very poor housekeeper. Since we had to stay at her house, Mamma, being an immaculate housekeeper, was very upset and became very ill. She just managed to make it to the wedding, but we left for home the next day. The bride and groom returned to live in New York. We were all at our house, watching for them to arrive. Sam, who never minced words, was watching from an upstairs window. When he saw Maude's straw "sailor's" hat, trimmed with innumerable gray-feathered wings, he hysterically asked if the feathers were from the chicken in her yard at home. Needless to say, she did not talk to him for years. As far as Moe was concerned, Maude was a goddess, whom he placed on a most high pedestal. She could do no harm, and he would never allow her to be disturbed by anything unpleasant. She was the worst housekeeper, which caused Mamma such heartache, as our house was always in good order. Just to know that her precious Moe had to live with this, and be completely blind to it, was hard for Mamma to accept. Of course Mamma never mentioned this to Moe, but I often heard Papa trying to console Mamma about it. Things did not change with the years, and Maude went on, shielded from any bad news, always believing things were just great with Moe. One time, it seems that the lady who used to go to their apartment each week to do the washing, did not arrive. Never having done any laundry before (because Moe did not want her to), Maude put all the soiled things up to "soak". She put all the colored clothes, white clothes, socks, etc., in the same tub. Everything was a mess. But Moe said he was glad it happened, because she was not to ever try to wash clothes again! The depression of 1929 created havoc with Moe's investments. He had bought stocks on "margin", and did not have the money to pick them up. So, all was lost, including his business. It is almost unbelievable, but Maude was kept ignorant of all this. Moe had already borrowed on
37

1900 US Census for Alliance, OH, shows the Levy family; Ralph (48), Fannie (42), Maude R. (20) and Lillian B. (20).

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his life insurance policies to the limit when my brother Lou heard about it. Lou lent him the money to pay back his insurance, and money to hold him until he got a job as a salesman for Kasper & Esch, a wholesale jewelry firm. Maude was never told about any of this; absolutely nothing at all about him losing his business, or the money coming from Lou. We were all sworn to secrecy. Moe started to lose a lot of weight. His doctor diagnosed his condition as diabetes. Within a short time, about a year, he had become a tottering old man, bent over, using a cane, and terribly thin. He had always been stout, much heavier than any of us were. He had always had an enormous appetite. My brother, Lou, had donated money to furnish a special room at Mt. Sinai Hospital in New York City, and Moe was hospitalized there. After the many doctors had despaired of his ever recovering, an experimental operation to remove his thyroid gland was performed. He never did have diabetes! Moe's recovery was remarkable, and before many weeks passed, his whole physical condition became normal. He lived for many years, and became well enough to resume his travels selling jewelry. He was returning in his car with his son, Alfred, Maude and the chauffeur, Bill, after spending a Thanksgiving at his daughter Helen's home in Canton, when he decided they should stop at a Howard Johnson's for lunch. He went to the men's room there and died suddenly. 38 After the depression of 1929, Lou helped Moe go back into business. Moe accumulated a fairly large stock of diamond and pearl rings. What became of all this merchandise has been sort of a mystery. For a while we were told Alfred had it under a bed at his home. But its disposition remained a secret. As far as I know, Lou saw to it that Moe's life insurance was kept up, so Maude was provided for. However, Lou died before Moe.39 In his will, Lou made Moe executor of his estate, which no doubt kept Moe in extra funds for many years until that estate was settled. ****** Hudson River Steamer Trojan I was nine years old when a second

38 39

Moe died December 1, 1955. Lou died December 20, 1947.

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cousin, Lucy Jacobs, was to be married in Troy, NY. Mamma, Etta and I traveled to Troy for the wedding, which was on May 9, 1909. It was supposed to be quite high style to be a passenger on the maiden voyage of a steamer. Well, we made the maiden voyage down the Hudson River on the steamship "Trojan" on the way back to New York. I honestly remember the red carpeting, and the stateroom we slept in. The trip was probably Mamma's first time on a boat since she came to America from London, where she was born. ****** Mamma used to bake delicious southern biscuits every Sunday morning, to the delight of the whole family. Moe's wife, Maude, decided she would demonstrate her culinary art, and invited Mamma, Papa, Sam and I for Sunday dinner. Moe lived on the corner of Lenox Avenue and 139th Street. The trolleys ran on Lenox Avenue. When we arrived at the apartment, Moe opened the door, and the aroma from the food was far from inviting. Unlike today, when one purchased a chicken, you really got the whole chicken, insides and all. Maude had never cleaned it out, and roasted it like that. Needless to say, we could not eat it. Well, when the biscuits came to the table, they were like little round rocks. Sam, again the "diplomat", took one biscuit, ran down to the Avenue, put it on the trolley track, and came back to say the trolley stopped because it could not crush the biscuit. Of course this was not true, but I don't believe Maude ever really forgave him. Alfred, Moe's son, was practically raised by "Cousin Anna", a relative of Maude's. She was a sweet old white-haired lady who had been widowed very young, never had any children, and needed the good home that Moe provided. She was really too kind and over protective of Alfred. Because she feared for his safety, he was not allowed to have roller skates or a bicycle. Even a baseball was out. Mamma, having raised four sons, was far from pleased, but dared not interfere. Moe insisted that Alfred obey him at all times for all things. Somehow, I feel that Alfred's spirit was broken when he was quite young, and this would account for the future pattern of his life. Alfred was really a very bright boy, but Moe made him so Feltmans on Coney Island subservient to him and
40

40

Lucy Jacobs married Benjamin Friedman, and settled in Amsterdam, NY. They had one son, Robert. Lucy is the daughter of Max and Sarah Jacobs, and granddaughter of Mary Goldstein Jacobs, Philips sister. Therefore, Sarahs maiden name was also Jacobs!

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to Maude, that he lived under their influence entirely. Not so with their daughter, Helen, she could do no wrong. Some of that discipline used with Alfred, would have been more useful to Helen. ****** I remember when I was a little girl and we lived in the Bronx. Mamma would take us kids to Coney Island. This was a real safari, from one end of Manhattan to the end of Brooklyn. We had to change trains two or three times, and complete the journey by trolley car, as the trains did not go that far. Lunches had to be packed for all of us, and while we did not own bathing suits, they could be rented for 25 cents each. It was a very expensive day, but it was a once a year treat. The boys carried their lunches in shoeboxes, and many times Mamma would catch them sneaking something out of the box. It was such a long trip, and so much effort to spend just to enjoy a dip in the ocean. The bathhouses at Coney Island were numerous, but the most exclusive one was "Raven Hall", where it was a dollar for the use of the bathhouse for a day, and their section of the beach was fenced off. So many years later, in 1920 when Martin and I were dating, and we would walk to Coney Island, which was about five miles from where I then lived. We would go to the famous "Feltmans", where for five cents we each had a big hot dog on a roll with relish. You could sit outdoors to enjoy music while you ate. We would ride home for five cents fare. That was a big date! ****** In 1908 we moved to a little better neighborhood, into a building that had a large open square in the middle, commonly called an "air shaft". All the tenants had clothes lines strung across the opening to hang their wash. When Mamma hung hers out she saw some elegant furs airing above her. No one in that section of the city would chance that, so Mamma went upstairs, and met a beautiful lady who had recently come from Russia with her husband and family, the 41 Anopols. Mr. Anopol, a Jew, had worked for the Czar as a buyer of fine silks and other fine fabrics, of which he had great knowledge. Being in the Czar's favor, so that Mr. Anopol's sons would be spared military service, he was given money and permission to leave Russia. Of the children, George became a famous orthopedic surgeon, Bernard a pharmacist, Anne a CPA, Rosie a principal of a school, and Aaron a procurer of rare birds for the museums. Only Sara, the oldest, was not a professional, but worked as a fashion milliner to help pay for the education of the younger ones, since Mr. Anopol had very little money, which he used for keeping up his house in Westchester and the needs of his wife and family. I remember that George, as a young

1900 US Census shows a Ganpol family at the same address as the Ade ls. What appears to be the same family is in the 1910 and 1930 US Census in the Bronx, and the 1920 Census in Manhattan, as the Anopol family; Walter, Gitel, Sarah B., Bernard, George A., Aaron I., Annie and Rosie. This is most likely the family Pearl was referring to, since the names match.
41

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boy, would spend his time after school, repairing bent limbs on trees or bushes. No wonder he became an orthopedic surgeon. He was a genius. ****** We had a large clock on the shelf in the dining room. I can't remember if it was an eight-day clock. If Etta was entertaining a gentleman guest in the living room (we called it the parlor), and it was ten o'clock, Papa would give the clock key a few twists, which could be heard so well, and say, "Hmm! It's ten o'clock, already!" If that did not discourage the young man, Papa would soon stand between the two rooms and wind his large pocket watch, and announce the time. At one time, when we lived on the fourth floor of an apartment house at 164th Street and Broadway, Etta, who was twelve years my senior, was dating a very nice young man. The stoop of the building had high and very large posts on each side, topped with huge round white globes. These lights were turned on every night. Etta and her beau were standing between these lights one night, and (Horrors!) it was ten o'clock! Papa looked down from our parlor windows once, then twice. The third time he looked, he called down, "Etta, do you know what time it is?" When Etta got up to the apartment, all hell broke loose. But, Papa stood firm. No daughter of his was going to be talked about. ****** When we lived in a tenement on the Lower East Side, the janitor lady lived in the 43 basement with her two children, George and Sadie Medalie. Sadie was Etta's age, and they went to school together. I believe George was the older child. He was so very bright, and my father encouraged him to keep on with his studies. This was not easy for him, as he used to help his poor mother scrub down the three flights of stairs in the building, and tend to many other chores to help support the family. I was very young, and don't remember if his father was alive. 44 Well, George did continue his studies and became a famous lawyer and judge. Some years ago, he was the judge for a trial in Albany. I believe it was to prosecute the woman who lived in Valatie who was Secretary of State here. I can't remember her name, but I made it a point to attend part of the trial, because George was presiding. ****** Now it is springtime, a time for extra house cleaning and of course the washing of window curtains. Nowadays, with the magic of "drip dry" fabrics, the curtains are washed and hung to dry right on the curtain rods with no need for ironing, and that is all. How different it was when I was a young girl. The curtains all were floor length lace, and had to be washed and starched very stiff. We had "curtain stretchers", four pieces of wood that could be adjusted to
42
42

There is a card that was given to Isaac and Esther on the occasion of their wedding, remarking about a gift of a clock and the relationships between time and marriage. This could be the same wedding-gift clock. 43 1910 US Census shows George Z. (26) and Sadie (22) Medalie, living with stepparents Abraham and Rachel Lasinesky at 20 E. 132nd St., Manhattan. This is the same George, since hes listed with occupation of lawyer. 44 George Z. Medalie, 1883-1946, was New York State Associate Judge of the Court of Appeals, 1945-46.

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any size, when joined by screws, to form the needed rectangle. These had hundreds of sharp steel pin points to which the outer edges of each curtain were stuck. One could only do one curtain at a time, so there was quite a wait between each one. It took many days and nights to finish the job for all the windows in the house (all except the kitchen). Fingers were mighty sore from all the sharp points. ****** It's Easter Sunday, and it is a beautiful day, and what a day it used to be. Mamma would see to it that I had something new to wear. If it was too cold to wear a new spring coat, she would have me wear a sweater under it, because she knew how disappointed I would be if I could not go out, even for a little while. You see, to have a new coat on Easter Sunday was really a very special thing. Mamma loved flowers, and with Papa's help with the money, Moe, Lou and Etta would contribute a little, and a purchase a flowering Easter plant for Mamma. Somehow, I don't believe we ever thought of Easter as a Gentile holiday. It was just a day for flowers and joy in our house. ****** I was just looking through a brochure showing all the beautiful designs on sheets and towels, etc., on sale now at Macy's. What a far cry it is from my younger days. Sheets were made of muslin, and nothing else. No such thing as percale, designs or colors. We only had double beds in our house, one shared by Moe and Lou, another by Harry and Sam, and I shared a bed with Etta. In time, the bed sheets wore out in the center, while both sides were in good condition. So, Mamma would cut the sheet down the middle, and sew both ends together with a flat seam, and it would be "good" for another year. Of course, if it couldn't be salvaged as a bed sheet, there were still some "good" sections that would become pillowcases. ****** This past Labor Day weekend has been a delight. The weather has been so good with temperatures in the upper seventies and low eighties. I just emerged from a cool shower, and thought about the times when I was a very little girl, when we lived in a tenement house on 114th Street in New York. Hot water was a real luxury, and had to be paid for extra in addition to rent. So, once a week each of us had a bath. Each tub full had to be used by two of us, one-at-a-time. We were six children, Papa and Mamma, and sometimes a boarder; and only one small bathroom for all of us. Somehow we managed, and Mamma and Etta did all the cleaning up after all of us. Our house was always clean, and we were never ashamed to bring anyone home to visit. No wonder Mamma died at the young age of fifty-three. She worked hard most of her life. ****** Returning to the subject of the building's air shaft, I remember when a neighbor had purchased a player piano, and put on his first player roll, the song "Chiri-Biri-Bin". All the tenants could hear this on that beautiful summer day. Unfortunately, although the owner knew how to turn on the piano and rewind the music roll, he did not know how to stop it from being Page 24 of 136

played over and over again, which it did for many hours. When late that night, at two o'clock in the morning, the neighbor finally figured how to stop the music, Lou and Harry, opened their bedroom window, and at the top of their voices, leaned out and started singing "Chiri-Biri-Bin". ****** Mamma had a really old Singer sewing machine, pumped by a foot treadle. I remember Papa would bring home a large bolt of muslin, which he bought from "M. Lowenstein's", where he was a salesman for many years, at a wholesale price of three or four cents a yard. Mamma would cut it into proper lengths for sheets and pillowcases, and Papa would sew it on the machine. The strips had to be pieced together to make sheets, as the material was not wide enough. Papa felt that it was too much work for Mamma to use the treadle for such a big job, although Mamma did sew very well. Whenever a shirt of Papa's or one of the four boys showed wear, first the collars were turned. Then when the collars wore out, Mamma would piece parts of different shirts together and make dresses for me. She very cleverly used the striped parts for trim on white, or plain colors, so that I really had very pretty dresses. ****** Papa and Mamma really considered us to be a middle class family. In retrospect, I believe we were really poor, but I didn't know it then. Papa sold cotton cloth bolts on commission basis, and only got his "pay" once a month. The first thing that had to be paid was the rent. Next money for food was set aside, then the gas money. Too often there were doctor bills, mostly for Mamma. Two dollars for house calls, one dollar for an office visit. Medicines also took some money. After all this, not much, if any, was left for clothing, recreation, etc. ****** Today, if one has a small annoying corn on one's foot, we just have to go to a podiatrist. Well, in our younger days, we called him a "chiropodist". That name is no longer in style. Our family had still another name for that man; "Papa". He took care of our feet for us and taught us how to care of them. Papa had a straight razor, and if we had a corn or callus, he did a great job of curing it. The result was that we all had good feet and no problems in later life. Papa always saw to it that we had good shoes. Older clothes were fixed up or made over, but we always had good shoes. ******

Esther Adels

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In 1910 or 1911 we moved to a first floor apartment in the "elevator apartment house" at 45 523 West 187th Street, at the corner of St. Nicholas Avenue. The neighborhood was just being built up. The large vacant lot next to our apartment house was having the foundation dug by some immigrant Italian workmen. They were being paid a dollar-and-a-half a day to work from eight o'clock in the morning to six o'clock at night. At the time there were no unions, and they were grateful for the job. At noon time, each man had for lunch a small loaf of bread, which looked like what we now call as a submarine sandwich, and some slices of onion to put between the two half loaves. Every day, Mamma would make for the workers a tremendous gray agate pot of coffee, and two of us would carry it out with cups, sugar and milk. It was mighty cold that November, so the warm drink was a treat. We never had much money, but Mamma and Papa had enough to share with those who needed help. In those days, we did not know anyone who owned an auto, nor were there any that ever came through our street. One day, I was playing "hop scotch" in front of the building when, what seemed to me at the time, a big sport car driven by a very tall young man rattled to a stop. He asked if there was a phone inside that he could use. I escorted him to the "switch board", where the elevator operator would help him as soon as he returned from a "trip" with one of the tenants. I stayed close, not wanting to miss anything of this great event. When the call was put through, the man said, "This is Mr. Vincent Astor," he said where he was, and asked that a chauffeur and mechanic come at once, one to repair his car and the other to take him wherever he 46 was going. ****** Monday was not a very pleasant day to come home from school, because it was "wash day". The big oval shaped boiler sat on the kitchen stove all day, giving off the offensive smell of boiling soap and clothes, which were poked from time to time with a stout stick. This was many years before there was such a thing as washing machine. Sometimes Mamma or the immigrant servant girl would scrub some things on the metal washboard. The washtubs had hand wringers clamped on them. The wash was hung to dry on the line in the airshaft, or up on the roof. It was easier when we finally moved to an apartment house that had an elevator. Then the wash basket only had to be carried from the top floor to the roof, up only one flight of stairs. Mamma made her own noodles, drying the large sheets of dough on a clean bed sheet that had been spread on the dining room table. When the dough was dry, it was cut in strips about two inches wide, and stacked about one inch thick. Since Moe liked thin noodles, Lou preferred them thick, I liked small sort of square ones, and Papa liked "farfel" (egg barley), the noodles had to be cooked in four different pots. Friday was a day of delight. Mamma baked bread. She always baked challah with a braided top and small loaves with raisins for me, and in later years for Alfred, Moe's son.

45 46

This is Moe Adels address when Pearl got married in 1922. Vincent Astor was born in November 1891, and would have been between 18 and 20 years old at the time.

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Mamma used to bake pounds of cookies for the children at the orphan asylum. She would line a wash basket with a tablecloth, fill it with cookies, and have Harry and Sam carry it down St. Nicholas Avenue to 138th Street. She would walk behind them and then deliver the cookies to the children herself. The boys hated this, as it looked like they were delivering washed clothes to the orphanage. ****** I must have been about ten or eleven years old when Moe had an office at 14 Maiden Lane in New York City. In those days a salesman traveled by train to sell his wares. He usually carried the merchandise samples in a large trunk, sometimes two trunks. "Baggage men" at the various depots helped handling the trunks, and trucks were always available to get them to the shops. In later years, the trunks were supplanted with huge sample cases. Men used to hang around the depots looking for a day's job carrying these to the different shops for the salesmen. They were called "sample carriers". They would wait outside while the salesman peddled his wares, and carry the sample cases from one store to the next for the huge salary of $1.50 for the day. Moe was a "two trunker" in those early days. His samples consisted of everything from baby pins (gold, of course) used to hold bibs, to lingerie clasps, diaper pins, scarf pins, bar pins, cuff links, and diamond rings. It was his greatest pleasure to have us look over the whole line of merchandise before he started out. I remember that the diamond rings were tied with blue ribbons into little bunches, grouped by price, sometimes three to six in a bunch. One day Mamma decided we should visit Moe's office, dressed in her best outfit, before he left on a business trip. Well, Mamma and I took the "El" to Fulton Street, which was the nearest station to Maiden Lane. Mamma wore her hair in the stylish pompadour, with the proper hat with little feathers high on top. While descending the steps to the street, which was the equivalent of about two flights of stairs, Mamma's heel caught and down she went head-over-heels. To this day, almost 70 years later, I am so ashamed, because I started to laugh and couldn't stop. A policeman came running and wanted to call a doctor or ambulance. But Mamma got up, brushed off her clothing, and insisted she was okay. No doubt the hat and the pompadour, lined with the "rat", saved her from serious injury. Needless to say, the clothing, worn with a number of petticoats and of course a pair of drawers, was a contributing factor to her escape from injury. The hat was not like one we know today. It had a heavy buckram frame, covered with some fabric over a muslin liner, a velvet band where the hat met the head, and the trim, usually feathers, plumes or velvet flowers. ****** I remember my first love affair. The Sunday school had a Purim play when I was ten years old. I was Queen Esther and my mother made a lovely costume for me out of white cheesecloth. The sash and crown were made of silver paper, and my jeweled necklace, which I hung around my neck, was a chain cut and made from the same silver paper. Of course, the cheesecloth stuck to my under-dress, but everyone thought I looked great (including me). Arthur

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Pinner played the king. He was a really handsome boy, who said he really liked me. The only trouble was that he was not as tall as I was, so the romance soon ended. ****** Papa used to shave with a straight razor, which he sharpened on a razor strap. A razor strap was a piece of doubled brown leather with a sort of handle at the top. The leather part was about twelve inches long, and the strap always hung on a hook in the bathroom. It was also a very handy tool for a whack on one's behind if punishment or discipline was needed for one of us. I never got the strap, because I was a favorite who could do no wrong! ****** Beyond our house on 187th Street, say from 191st Street to 207th Street (Dyckman 47 Street), there used to be a hill with no cross street. I don't know what the situation is there now. Sam, Harry, and a few other friends pooled their money and bought a beautiful toboggan that would seat six people. It had individual runners and a steering wheel or rod. The winters were not too bad, but one must remember that there was no snow removal equipment then. So, there were many enjoyable Sundays and evenings riding down that hill. I hated the cold even then, as I do now, and my brothers really had a fit when they had to take me along. Especially when I would not walk up the hill, and they had to pull me up on the toboggan. ****** I often wonder if Sam's emphysema later in his life was a result of his siege with pneumonia when he was in his twenties. After his recovery, he often complained of chest pains, and Papa took him to many doctors. He finally went to Dr. Evan Evans, who was doctor to the famous opera star Enrico Caruso. After two visits each at twenty-five dollars of Papa's hard earned money, the doctor first advised that it would be best for his condition if Sam should go north. But, he said, that would be too cold! So instead, he said, Sam should go out west. But that would be too dry! Then he said to go to the Atlantic sea coast. But perhaps the damp sea air would not be advisable! Maybe he should go to Florida. But perhaps that would be too hot!. Finally Sam said, "Doctor, you have suggested that I go north, east, south, and west. Just what do I do?" The doctor patted him on the back and said, "Use your own judgment!" It's a wonder Sam did not punch him in the nose. I remember Mamma telling me that Sam had many attacks of asthma when he was a small child. So, was his emphysema really from his smoking cigarettes, or his earlier illnesses? ****** About 1912, Maude's sister, Lil, was married in Alliance, Ohio, to Sam Berger, who came from a very fine family in Cleveland. Shortly after their marriage, Sam got into some trouble with the law, and my brother, Moe, put up one thousand dollars bail bond for him. Sam
47
48

This area is near High Bridge Park in the Washington Heights part of Manhattan. High Bridge Park is on the side of a hill between Fort George Ave. and Dyckman. Dyckman St. is about half way between 187th and 207th. 48 Lillian Levy (see earlier footnote of Levy family in Alliance).

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and Lil came to New York City to live. Lil was pregnant at the time. In those days, it was not permissible for women to go into a cigar store. Well, they went for an evening's stroll and she waited outside that corner cigar store for Sam. There were two doors, one on one side of the building and one on the other. He never did come out the one he entered. He took off, never to be seen again. Lil went completely out of her mind, lost the baby, and had to stay at Bellevue Hospital for some time. She later made her home with Moe and Maude, until she married Arthur 49 Baruch. Their daughter, Jean, lives in Florida. ****** I graduated from Public School 132 and went to Wadleigh High in 1913 . At the end of my freshman year in 1914, Papa and Mamma decided we should move to Bensonhurst. This move was not a good one as far as Etta was concerned. She said we might as well bury her. She was twenty-six years old, not married, and even though she had many "dates", no suitor was her 51 prince charming. We moved anyhow to 8712 Bay Parkway, Brooklyn, a beautiful nine-room apartment in a two-family house owned by Joe Spero, who occupied the other apartment with his wife and maid. They had a beautiful "National" car, orange color with brown leather upholstery. It was an "open" car with the gear levers outside the left front. They took Mamma and I on a trip to Ramsey, N.J., one summer, where I won a beauty contest. The judges must have been very hard up for contestants! ****** Our house in Brooklyn was just two doors from where Celia Ash lives now (1978). Directly across the street from our house, from Benson to Bath Avenues, was a beautiful estate, all fenced in, owned by a Dr. De Munde. Mamma and I could sit on our porch and see his children or grandchildren riding around in their pony cart. How I would have loved to go for a ride! The doctor owned a number of beautiful Russian wolfhounds, which he would allow to run free in the yard a certain times. They were beautiful white creatures. Unfortunately, one jumped over the six foot fence, and bit a passerby. So after that he had to keep them in a kennel. ****** David Garfinkle was the president of our temple . I used to give his daughter, Florence, piano lessons for fifty cents per lesson. It was quite a walk from our house to theirs,
52 53 50

49 50

Arthur S. Baruch, Lillian and daughter, Jean, are shown in the 1930 US Census for Philadelphia. Wadleigh High is at 114th St. and 8th Ave. in Manhattan, four blocks north of Central Park. Wadleigh High was a girls-only school in 1905. If Pearl lived in Manhattan at the time, then she previously attended P.S. 132 at W. 182nd St. and Wadsworth Ave, which is now three blocks north of the Cross Bronx Expressway. 51 The Garfinkles (in 1920) and Loebs (in 1930) lived at 8704 Bay Parkway. Isaacs death certi ficate says they lived at 2255 82nd St. when he died (the 1930 Census says 2235 82nd St.). There was a Spiro family (head, Abraham) at 2233 82nd St. 52 Garfinkle or Garfinkel? Most of the US Census entries spell the name Garfinkle, while most of the Elli s Island records spell it Garfinkel. Family records from Poland spell the name Gorfinkiel, and Martins birth record spells his mothers name as Garfinkiel. Since the death certificates show Garfinkle, and these are direct family sources, I preferred to use the ending -le, and not -el when editing Grandmas stories.

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and sometimes Mrs. Garfinkle would wait until I arrived to tell me that Florence had not practiced that week, so there was no need for me to give her a lesson. Of course, no lesson, no fifty cents! ****** Mamma had a number of small boxes lined up in one drawer of her dresser, each one with a label; Pearl's coat, Etta's birthday, Sam's sweater, etc. Spare money was put in these. We never owed money for anything. When I became eighteen years old and Moe gave me two dollars per week allowance, I thought I was really a millionaire. ****** I just had a problem with my telephone, which reminded me of the time we had our first telephone installed. I believe I was fourteen years old at the time. The phone was a square wooden box, probably oak, with two bells, like metal balls cut in half, attached to the bottom of the box. On the left side of the box was a hook, which held the earpiece. The part to speak into was on the front of the box. The whole unit was hung on the wall outside of the bathroom. The morning after it was installed, it had not yet been used. Papa left for work, and had to walk quite a few blocks to get the train from Brooklyn to the city. He stopped on the way at a drug store, picked up a phone, and when the operator said, "Number, please?" he gave her our brand new telephone number. One just can't imagine the excitement at our house, when the phone rang. This was a miracle happening! Mama answered with a quivering voice, "Hello, hello!" When she heard Papa's voice, she was so thrilled. Each one of us had a chance to talk to Papa. I don't remember how much we paid then for phone service, but I believe it was less than $4.50 a month! ****** Papa had a sister living in Poland, from whom he received an occasional letter. She was married to a man whose last name was Reichig. They had a daughter, Malka, and a son. About 1914 or 1915, she wrote and asked if my father would help to get her son out of Poland before World War I exploded. After many months of interviews with the immigration department, permission was granted for the boy to leave Poland, providing that we would be responsible for him. Papa sent money to him for travel expenses to the sailing port, and purchased a "Schiffs Card", which was to pay his passage on a ship to bring him to America. He got as far as Ehrengreitschlein (spelling correct?), Germany, and sent Papa a telegram or cablegram saying to send two hundred dollars "lebens gefarlich keit". That means his life was in danger. Papa sent the money, but we never heard from him again. There was a rumor that he got to Argentina, but this was never confirmed. We never heard from anyone in that family again. When Martin's folks came to the Unites States after World War I, Martin's mother said I looked like Malka Reichig! Apparently, she had known my father's niece in Poland. What a small world! ******
53

An obituary posted in the November 12, 1926, NY Times identified David Garfinkle as President of Beth Sholom Peoples Temple in Bensonhurst.

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Our apartment in Bensonhurst was heated by a hot air system. There were square heat grates in most of the rooms. These were quite ornate, with iron scrollwork, and each one had a slide which we would open to let the heat in, or keep it out. The one in the dining room was in a side wall just about waist high. In the cold weather, Papa would stand with his back to the grate, fold his newspaper into four lengths, and read every line of every page. Our furnace was fed with coal. There was no such thing as an oil burner or gas heat system. Papa took care of the furnace. It was stoked at night before he went to bed, and in the morning the ashes had to be shaken down using a kind of tool similar to that used to crank a car. This tool fit into a projected piece of metal. The ashes fell into the lower part of the furnace, and had to be shoveled out into a fairly large strainer type receptacle, which was held in place over the ash can. This kept any small pieces of coal, which could still be used, from being thrown away. Fresh coal was put in the furnace, and the dampers opened so that more heat would rise. Before Papa went to work, the dampers were closed, and the furnace set for the day. How very different from the oil burner in my Albany house. Just push the hand on the thermostat, and presto! ****** My mother was always worried about me because I was a really skinny kid. When I was 54 at New Utrecht High School in 1914, Mamma did not want me to eat a cold lunch. So, she found out that some of the teachers got a hot lunch in the back room of a small delicatessen store across the street from the school. There was no such thing as a lunch room in a school. Well, Mamma convinced the lady who cooked the lunches, that I was a very delicate child. So, for thirty-five cents a day, I ate with some teachers like a big-shot, a full course lunch, soup to dessert! I was always a miserable eater. I would not eat eggs because they came from chickens, or chickens because they came from eggs. I would never drink milk, but I would drink bottled fermented milk, which was very much like buttermilk. This was called "Zoolak". What a pain I must have been. ****** There is a lot of mention in 1978 of the seventy-fifth anniversary of "Teddy Bears". Well, when we lived on Bay Parkway in 1914, the Grossman family owned the large corner property at Bath Ave. The family lived in a large house in the middle of the property. It was said, at the time, that Mr. Grossman was the first manufacturer of the Teddy Bear, and made a million dollars. It is strange that he was not mentioned during the anniversary celebrations. ******
54

New Utrecht High was on 86th St. near 17th Ave. in Brooklyn. The web site for New Utrecht High says the school was established in 1915, an offshoot of Bay Ridge High School, which up to that time had been coeducational. With the creation of New Utrecht High School, Bay Ridge became a school for girls only, while New Utrecht was an all-boys school. Maybe Pearl really went to Bay Ridge High.

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My friend, Jeanette Newhoff and I were just on the phone reliving some of the "good old days". We talked about the pre-washing machine days, when the huge oval-shaped "boiler" was on the stove in the kitchen, filled with clothes, soap, and hot water, being poked with a stick. After all, there was no such thing as bleach, and white clothes really had to be boiled white. Needless to say, the materials used then, mostly pure cotton or linen, were far superior to those we get today. The stitching was firm and made to last the boiling ordeal. We talked about a dentist appointment, and this brought to mind my mother's story about Grandpa Goldstein's trip to the dentist. When he was about seventy years old, in 1914, Grandpa had a toothache. He went to the dentist and had to wait in the waiting room while the doctor was tending another patient, who was having a tooth extracted. There was probably no such thing as Novocain then, so when Gramp heard the patient give a good substantial yell, he decided this was not for him. So he left and went home. Smart man! When he died he had all of his own 55 teeth! ****** I played in the school orchestra at New Utrecht High School in 1914. This was the old wooden school building before Bay Ridge High was built. It was great fun, and I have so many fond memories. Teddy Grossman, from an orthodox Jewish family, played violin. He married 56 Marie Ragona, whose parents were devout Italian Catholics. The marriage caused a very exciting time in the neighborhood, because Mr. Ragona went out with a gun looking for them! After their son, Oscar, was born all was forgiven, because he was brought up in the Catholic faith. Marie Ragona had a remarkable dramatic soprano voice. Her father would not permit her to take vocal lessons for fear she would aspire to the stage. She was truly quality for the Metropolitan Opera. We had many marvelous hours together. She would sing, Teddy would play, and I would accompany them. The whole Ragona family remained close friends with me. Shortly after we moved to Albany, five of the Ragonas unexpectedly arrived one evening at about 6 p.m. Of course, I was not prepared to feed so many extra people. But there was no need to worry, as they brought huge pots of sauce, jars of grated cheese, pounds of uncooked spaghetti, cakes, pies, cookies, etc., even wine and bread. We had a marvelous two days, even if some of us had to sleep on the floor. ****** I was in a music class with three other girls. Maestro Pietro Floridia was our teacher. He was a very fine looking man, who had been written about in "Who's Who in America". He had
Grandpa Philip Goldstein died in St. Louis, MO, on January 18, 1922. 1930 US Census for Brooklyn shows at 8814 Bay Parkway Theodore Grossman (31), wife Marie (32) (parents from Italy) and son Oscar (7). 57 Assuming Marie Ragona would be about the same age as Pearl, the 1920 US Census contains a very large Ragona family in Brooklyn: Salvador (52), Pietrina (39), Marie (22), Arthur (18), Tola (15), Albert (13), Ettore (11), Frank (10), Antoniette Battaglini (62) and Virgilio Ragona (11)
55 56
57

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been a pupil of Beniamino Cesi in Milan, Italy. There was a story circulating in music circles that he was asked not to be seen in the Metropolitan Opera House. We never did find out the truth or the reason for this. Perla Floridia, his daughter, Angeline Perfetto, whose father played in Sousa's band, Iola Pavau, whose father was an importer of Italian candies and delicacies, and I were asked to play at many private homes of very wealthy patrons of musical art. For me it was always a great thrill to see the beautiful homes. Some of them had two grand pianos in the living room, and still had lots of room for their many guests. Last Sunday I went to the Saratoga Performing Arts Center (SPAC) for the opening night with Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra. Before the performance, there was a sort of lecture for a small group, which I joined. It was strange that the lecturer spoke about the large organ in Wanamakers in New York. I can't remember what year it was, but Perla and I gave a 58 concert in that auditorium. I remember that the organist was Alexander Russell. Two sisters, Rose and Pauline Fritz, recommended me to Maestro Floridia. Rose, at that time, was recognized as the fastest typist in the world, employed by the Underwood Typewriter 59 Company. She attributed her speed on the typewriter to the methods of piano technique learned when she studied with Floridia. Pauline, also employed by Underwood, held the record for taking a typewriter apart, and reassembling it. Both girls traveled extensively for Underwood, displaying their skills. ****** Yesterday I went to another concert at SPAC. Eva Segel insisted that I be her guest. We went by bus with the senior citizens group from the B'nai B'rith apartments. Liberace was the main attraction, and of course I thoroughly enjoyed the concert. I could not help thinking a great deal about my student days. I am certain that the seats we had at SPAC must have been acquired at a very special price (i.e. cheap), because we were in the next to the last row in the balcony. This brings back more memories of the days of the old Metropolitan Opera House. 60 Memories of the great voices of Enrico Caruso, Seinbach , Luisa Tetrazinni, Pasquale Amato, Geraldine Farrar, and Jacques Urlus, who was such a marvelous "Tristan". Is it because I still hear those priceless sounds that I compare the present day sopranos, tenors, and bassos so cruelly? I remember the truly bird like voice of Amelita Galli-Curci, that great lyric soprano! 61 She lost her voice after having a tonsillectomy. What a tragedy! Even though money was

58 59

Alexander Russell (1880-1953) was the music director for the Wanamaker Stores in 1919. Rose Fritz was the first clear cut national champion in the first organized contests in speed typing for 7 years in a row from the start, the first organized Worlds Championship contest in 1906 and winner of the first Worlds Championship trophy 1906. She recorded a rate of 95 words per minute in 1909. She never lost to a man as national speed-typing champion from 1906 to 1909. 60 I couldnt find an opera singer named Seinbach. However there was a singer Johannes Sembach. Considering Pearl attended these performances between about 1911 and 1916, she probably got the name mixed up. 61 Actually, she underwent surgery in 1935 for the removal of a thyroid goiter. A nerve to her larynx (or "voice box") is thought to have been damaged, resulting in the loss of her ability to sing high pitches. This nerve has since become known as the "nerve of Galli-Curci."

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always so unavailable, somehow I did get to the "Met" and to Carnegie Hall for many concerts and operas. This reminded me of when I was studying orchestrations and instrumentation with Rubin 62 Goldmark. Aaron Copland, the composer and conductor, was in the class. We music students paid fifty cents each to sit in the same high balcony in Carnegie Hall to hear the famous pianist, Ignace Jan Paderewski. He was a very, very small man, and when he walked across the stage to the piano, he looked like an ant from our extreme vantage point. Many was the time I stood in line at the old Metropolitan Opera House, from seven o'clock in the morning until one o'clock in the afternoon, to get a one dollar ticket to stand in "Balcony Heaven" to hear an opera. Louis Sherry had a sort of deluxe lounge on the mezzanine, where during intermission at a night performance, the millionaires and their ladies would go for a glass of wine or champagne. These were the folks who occupied season boxes in the Met's two tiers of boxes. The wealthy ladies could be seen wearing their gorgeous jewels, diamond necklaces, tiaras, bracelets, etc. It wasn't often I got to the Met at night, but a boyfriend, Jack Reutlinger, loved the opera, particularly the German or Wagnerian ones. So, he got a job two nights a week pulling the curtains, just so he could hear the "Ring of the Nibelung", and occasionally he got a pass. We would stand outside the salon, and be truly awestruck by their gowns and elegance. Somehow, I can't remember that they had any special protection, but possibly there were Pinkerton men in the group. The old Met was built in a very elongated horseshoe shape. So, if one was seated on either side of the stage, out of sight of most of the performance, one would receive a stiff neck as well as good music. The "fair" seats, exclusive of orchestra and box seats, were about five to seven-and-a-half dollars. I have been told that seats at the new Lincoln Center today begin at forty dollars each! The Sunday night concerts at the old Met around 1915-1920 were a dollarand-a-half each. These were delightful, and the artists were so generous with encores. Those were the days when great pianists like Josef Hofmann, Vladimir DePachman, Guiomar Novaes, 63 and Anton Rubinstein gave concerts at Aeolian Hall, which was at 34 West 43rd Street. These I could enjoy when I started charging one dollar, and later two dollars for piano lessons. Somehow I have not detected the great love for the many forms of music in any of my children or grandchildren. Perhaps in another generation? ****** During World War I, we lived in Bensonhurst on Bay Parkway, just two short blocks from Gravesend Bay (the entrance to New York Harbor). In 1914, it was a completely residential neighborhood (no apartments), and by the Bay Shore Line was the old Fort Lowry 64 Hotel , which had been a summer resort hotel, and the old Bensonhurst Yacht Club at Bay Parkway and Cropsey Avenue, which had been converted to a naval base for small craft, such as submarine patrol boats and sub-chasers. My friend, Lou Oppenheim, was on the SC-237, which was out to sea four or five days at a time. On one of the return trips he told us (my parents and me) how terrible the food was on this trip because a new cook was aboard. As he was talking,
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Copland studied with Goldmark from 1915 to 1917, indicating the period that Pearl studied with Goldmark, too. Rubinstein died in 1894, so Pearl could not have seen him perform. 64 The hotel was at 8868 17th Avenue, Bath Beach.

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the doorbell rang, and in came Charlie Segel, Max's youngest brother. He was the new cook! Poor Charlie never was very smart, and besides, he had never cooked anything in his life. My mother gave him a list of general instructions on the use of various seasonings, how to make stew, and how to be certain meat was really done enough to eat. He had been cooking meat for five to ten minutes, thinking that as long as it was not red on the outside any more, it was cooked. After this, Charlie and Lou would come to our house on each return trip, and we all would be in a state of hysteria from the stories they told. ****** My brother, Harry, was drafted in World War I and on his first visit home before he was sent over-seas was, as he put it, "lost without a watch." Only pocket watches were available, and he could not carry one in a uniform pocket. Lou, who was working for Moe at the time, conceived the idea for a wrist watch. He borrowed a thousand dollars and designed a band with a metal case to hold a pocket watch. The case cover was a metal disc with cut outs that would allow the numerals of the pocket watch to be shown. The crown in the original design was still at the twelve o'clock position, but subsequently watches were made with the crown at the three o'clock side. He was the first to sell this wristwatch, launching him into the watch business, and 66 eventually leading to his becoming a millionaire. Etta was working for Moe in his office in 1914 earning twenty dollars a week. Moe and Lou had wives. Harry was in Europe with the Army in the American Expeditionary Forces. Sam was also working, so we (Mamma, Etta and I) could finally afford to splurge and have a beautician do our hair and nails. I remember her name, Elizabeth Parnish! She came to our house at about seven o'clock in the evening. She washed our hair, set it with water using dozens of little combs, and gave each of us a manicure. Since there was no such thing as a hair dryer, and the fact that we all had long hair, she could not stay and wait until the hair was dry. So, we had to finish the job ourselves. No one had ever dreamed of the rollers or permanent waves we have now. ****** I believe it was in 1915 that the music publishing house of Waterson, Berlin and Snyder had their office in the Strand Theater Building, at Broadway and 47th Street in New York. The "Berlin" in the name was, of course, Irving Berlin. The offices were divided into many rooms, each with a beat-up upright piano. Many people, who later became well known composers in the "popular" music field, got their start there by playing their compositions in one of the rooms, hoping to have one accepted for publication. Harry Von Tilzer, a name long forgotten now, was a well-regarded man in that field. There was neither radio nor television at the time to help popularize a song. The publishing house would hire "song pluggers" to sing during intermissions in theaters and in bars

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Max Segel married Etta Adels. This story of the origin of the wristwatch has not been validated, and is probably a family legend. Lou Adels did work for Longines Watch Company, however.

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to promote a song, so that the general public would hear it, buy copies, and be able to play it at home. Well, Maurice Levi, who had a band that played at the Brighton Beach Casino, had an office on the same floor as Waterson, Berlin and Snyder. Sam took me to Waterson, Berlin and Snyder to ask them to hear a song I wrote, "A Honeycomb for Two". They liked it and had Levi publish it. Additionally, he promised to have his band play it, and have a "plugger" sing it. I was "billed" as the youngest song writer in the country, being only fifteen years old. The world is so very small. After we moved to Albany, in 1925 or 1926, our first AdelsLoeb jewelry store was in the Kenmore Hotel building. The "Rain-bo Room" in the hotel was a very popular night spot for dining and dancing, and from time-to-time big-name bands would play there for a few seasons. Frank Fonda and his band were great, and we got to know all the guys and their wives. One day, Frank, his wife, Dorothy, and their son, Greg, came for dinner, and talked about the "good old days". Dorothy Fonda had been one of the "pluggers" of my 67 song! There is still a copy in the magazine rack in my sunroom. ****** When I was sixteen, Lou and Nettie invited me to spend a weekend in the Pocono Mountains, where they were vacationing in a very plush hotel. There I met Dr. Herman Goldberg, a dentist, who, not believing I was only sixteen, insisted that he take me out to dine in 68 New York. Incidentally, his brother was the chief engineer on the Ashokan Dam. When he did come to call, Papa insisted that Sam go along on our date. I never heard from him again. Did I miss something? ****** In Bensonhurst, our house was only a few blocks from Gravesend Bay. In the summer we rented a family bathhouse there for twelve dollars for the whole season. All the young people could swim quite well, so six of us bought an old sailboat. Many times we were "becalmed" and not able to move. Needless to say, when a tugboat pulling a loaded barge of garbage passed slowly by us, and too close for comfort, we became mighty sick. We had no motor to help us home. Once we were really in trouble when the big boats, on their way to Coney Island, almost rammed us when we could not get out of their way. ****** Passover was a time for the whole family to be together. Moe, Maude, Alfred (Helen was not born, yet), Lou and Nettie (Lucille was not born, yet, either), and any relatives who happened to be in town would come for the Seder. We never kept a kosher house, so the same dishes, silver, pots and pans, that we used all year, were used during the holiday. After all, we
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Jane Loeb has since framed this published copy of "A Honeycomb for Two", and it is hanging in her house. The Ashokan Dam, built in the Catskill Mountains to supply water to New York City, was completed in 1916, said to be second in achievement at the time to the Panama Canal. J. Waldo Smith was the Chief Engineer of the Catskill System.

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didn't have any others, nor could we afford others. Papa would conduct the Seder service. We would start reading the book on page one, and a few minutes later, Papa would say we should skip to page ten. Papa was used to eating promptly at six o'clock, and we knew he was getting hungry. Mamma would poke us under the table, and we would find it hard to conceal our mirth. Papa would scowl, looking at us over the top of his glasses. We never did get to read the whole service. Mamma always bought Goodman's tea matzos, never those heavy square ones. But Papa, by the second day, began to complain. "Esther," he would say, "these matzos are like bricks in my stomach!" Whereupon, Mamma would say he could have bread if he wanted some, because there was always a loaf in the square tin bread box in the kitchen. Papa always responded that he would start eating bread the next day. But, he never ate the bread, and the complaints lasted all eight days. He always fasted on Yom Kippur, and we surely knew he was fasting because his temper was ready to blow. He never raised his voice. He didn't need to. We kept out of his way. ****** Herman Finkelstein was a cousin of Mamma's, who settled in Salt Lake City at the 69 beginning of the century. He visited us in 1916, and Mamma's first question to him was about his missing sister. When he was a small boy, about ten years old, his mother died, leaving her husband and three small children; Herman, another boy of six, and a little girl, three years old. The young father had to find someone to care for the little ones, temporarily. So, he asked the orphan asylum in Cleveland, where the family lived, to care of the children until he could obtain 70 permanent household help. Unfortunately, in those days, proper records were not kept. So, when the father went to take the children home, he found that his little girl had been given to another family. The name of the family that adopted her was not available. So, as long as Herman lived, he spent a substantial amount of money he earned in his successful furniture business, trying to find his sister. He never did find her. ****** I believe it was in 1916 that I joined the "Ray of Sunshine Club", formed by a Mrs. Simon. Its purpose was to bring music to various groups and places. Her daughter, Hortense, was a friend of mine. We visited and performed at jails, orphanages, etc. I even wrote a song, which is still in the magazine rack, called "Just a Little Ray of Sunshine". Our little group's

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According to the 1920 and 1930 US Census, Herman Finkelstein (b. about 1878) was living with his family (wife and four children) in Salt Lake City. 70 Pearl got the story wrong. Hermans mother, Eva Goldstein Finkelstein did not die. More likely, her husband, Max, left her alone to care for the children, and she had to place some in the orphanage to care for them. The 1880 US Census shows the Finkelstein family in Cleveland under Fingstein, parents Max (32, b. Poland) and Eva (28, b. Poland), and children Esther (8, b. England), Henry (6, b. Ohio), Hyman (1, b. Ohio) and Pauline (4, b. Ohio). They lived literally across the street from Philip Goldstein (Evas brother). Cleveland Jewish Orphan Asylum records show placement of Harry (Henry), received May 19, 1884, discharged December 26, 1887, and Hyman (Herman), received May 19, 1884, discharged April 1889. A younger son, Emanual (Manny), born in 1881, was listed with Eva and Herman in 1900 in St. Louis.

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members went to "Sing Sing" prison with candies, books, magazines, etc. We talked with the inmates, I played the piano, and we sang my song. We were always well received, and were asked to return again. My first experience in entertaining the elderly was a memorable one, especially when a ninety year old blind lady came forward and played the piano with me. ****** When I was between sixteen and twenty years old, it was not affordable to go to a store and buy a dress, unlike today, where everything is available in stores in almost all sizes. Of course the Fifth Avenue shops did have "ready-made clothes", but the prices were way out of our ability to pay. If we needed a dress, a German lady, Miss Weinhart, would come to our house at nine o'clock in the morning, and using our sewing machine, make a beautiful garment, completely finished by five o'clock in the afternoon. This was done for the enormous sum of ten dollars. Mamma or Etta would select a picture, probably out of the photogravure section of the Sunday New York Times, purchase the material and trimmings in Macy's or Gimbel's, even the proper color thread, all ready for Miss Weinhart. Lou's wife, Nettie, recommended her because she had been making clothes for her for many years. I was fortunate in being very close in size to Nettie, so often I would inherit some lovely dresses she tired of. Strange that so many years later, Judy was so lucky to get such beautiful clothes and riding apparel that Lucille had outgrown. I wonder if Judy remembered the gorgeous yellow dress, coat and hat that Lou had brought back from Paris! Judy looked so adorable in it. ****** Nettie, my brother Lou's wife before they were divorced, used to go to a Jersey resort for most of every summer before Lucille was born. Lou would join her there on weekends. They lived in an apartment at 760 Riverside Drive. I was about sixteen when Lou asked me to clean up the apartment before Nettie was to come home at the end of the summer. He even hired a cleaning woman to assist me! We probably could have used two more. Absolutely nothing had been done all summer to keep the apartment clean. Coffee grinds molded in the pot. Every dish in the house was used and not washed. Every sheet and case was in an overflowing laundry basket. In those days, there was no such thing as a washing machine or Laundromat, and the laundry company only collected one week and returned the finished work the following. We just washed two sheets and two cases, and hung them on the roof to dry, and put them on the bed without ironing. What a day that was. I really expected Lou to pay me, but I was too proud to ask, and so I never got paid. I really needed the money. Oh, well! ****** I was watching television last night. The public broadcast station had a special on Paul Muni. It was really the story of his parents, their trials to support their family, of which Paul was the youngest, and their frustration as performers wanting to appear in New York City on the
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Sing Sing Correctional Facility is a maximum security prison in Ossining, New York. The name comes from the original name of the village of Ossining. 72 Paul Muni received Oscar nominations for his first and last ever screen performances ('The Valiant', 1929 and 'The Last Angry Man', 1959).

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stage of the Yiddish theater on 2nd Avenue. This all brought back a special night, so many years ago, when I was sixteen or seventeen. My father had bought some tickets for a benefit performance for that theater, and suggested that it might be interesting for some of the family to 73 attend, since the great Yiddish actor, Mike Tomashefsky , was to be the main attraction. None of us, except Papa, knew a word of Yiddish, but Mamma, Etta, Sam, Morris Breslauer (Sam's close friend), and I said we would go. It was all like a pantomime for us. In those days, most men wore derby hats, and as there was no place to put them when taken off, they were often held upside down between the men's knees. During the intermission, one could buy an apple, orange, banana, or a huge soft pretzel from one of the vendors. Apples, oranges and bananas were two cents each, and pretzels three cents. Well, Morris brought an orange back to his seat, entered the row of seats first, and was seated next to a man with a derby hat, which he held in the above manner. When the lights went out for the performance to continue, Morris peeled his orange in one curly length into the man's hat. Sam saw what he was doing, and said nothing. When the big lights went on at the end of the play, the poor man put his hat on, and we got hysterical. Papa was furious, but a good time was had by all. ****** Aunt Celia Garfinkle had a sister, Martha. I first met her in 1916 or 1917. She came for a visit from Italy, where she sang in the opera house at La Scala. She really looked Italian, as she affected all the mannerisms and style. She used the stage name of Marta du Lac. Her real marriage name was Lachman. She wanted to do some concerts in the U.S.A., but her English diction was very poor. We worked together, I playing and helping with her pronunciation. It was quite an experience for me, and we did a few concerts together. She finally made life miserable for her husband, Louis, who was really a nice man. So he divorced her, and she went back to Italy. ****** Morris Breslauer was Sam's closest friend. He was drafted into the Navy early in World War I, and made many trips across the Atlantic on the S.S. Agamemnon, which carried thousands of troops. The ship had been originally the "Kaiser Wilhelm II". After the war he was the first friend of our generation to buy a car. I remember going for a ride in it. All touring cars, as that one was called, came equipped with mica or isinglass fittings that snapped into place to help keep the rain out. Remember there was no such thing as plastic. Morris later got a job with 75 the Howe Hair Net Company. They sent him to Chefoo, North China, where he remained quite a few years buying hair, which was shipped to the United States to make hairnets. Chefoo was in the heart of the rug weaving district, so I had him select a rug for me. It is now in the dining 76 room, and has lasted so well over fifty years.
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I believe Pearl meant Boris Tomashefsky, the great Yiddish actor, and uncle of Paul Munis wife, Bella. Celia Lewis Garfinkle had a sister, Martha, born in NYC in 1888. 75 Now called Yantai. 76 As of 2009, this rug is in the dining room of Pearls granddaughter, Marta Loeb Pomerantz.
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****** Sam used to travel selling jewelry for Moe, and whenever he got to St. Louis he would spend as much time as possible with our grandfather, Philip Goldstein. Grandpa was getting older, and since he was living alone, with no relative near, Mamma felt he should come and live with us. He did come, but only stayed less than a year. He missed his old cronies, and in as much as we lived in Bensonhurst, the trip into New York City was too far to go to the theater, which he loved. He went back to St. Louis and died there when he was about seventy-five years 77 old. He was a tailor. ****** Every year at Passover time, Mr. Pitt, a darling old man with a tremendous belly, would come all the way to Bensonhurst on the train to deliver a gallon of wine to Papa for the holiday. The two men would have a cup of tea, and sit and talk. I wish I had listened to the conversations, as I am certain I would have heard so much about their days in the "old country". ****** How sad it is that so many great performers of the 1916 to 1946 years have been forgotten. Even though the television productions of the "Entertainers" have done something to keep alive the talents of many, so many others are completely forgotten. The Dolly sisters, Roszika and Yansci Deutsch, lived just one block away from our house. Their Americanized names were Rosie and Jennie. One was married to Jean Schwartz, a songwriter, and the other to Harry Fox, a well-known performer. Mrs. Deutsch, their mother, was a most attractive woman, who really promoted her two daughters to stardom. Personally, I never thought they could sing or dance, and in fact, many folks referred to them as "hoofers". But, old lady Deutsch surely knew how to get them before the public. They had a brother, Eddie, who Mrs. Deutsch tried to do the same with, but he was like his father, quite a total blank, and all the King's horses could not make him into an actor. Does anyone remember Juliet? She was billed as "Juliet". Her name was Juliet 78 Rosenfeld, and she had a very talented brother, Harry, whose stage name was Harry Delf. Juliet sang well, and would come on stage singing, wearing a very large full-length cape, and called for her human dressing table. This was a little boy, who emerged from under the cape with a sort of shelf, lights, and changes of costume, which she used to impersonate people, like Harry Lauder the great Scotsman entertainer, and others. Harry Delf was the dancer who introduced acrobatic dancing (up stairs, on tables, etc.) to Broadway. He had great write-ups for his outstanding performances in the hit show "Hello, Broadway". I wrote some songs for him.

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Philip Goldstein died in St. Louis on January 18, 1922, at the age of 78. I havent been able to find any references to Juliet Rosenfeld as a performer during that period, although there are references for Harry Delf and Harry Lauder.

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I never got to meet Eva Tanguay, the one who made the song "I Don't Care" famous. She also lived in the same neighborhood. Charlotte Greenwood and Sidney Grant lived next 80 door to Adelaide. Charlotte died in February 1978.81 She was a great performer, and sang "Bend Down Sister, If You Want to Keep Thin". Trixie Friganza, also a great performer, lived in 82 the neighborhood. I also remember Bob Fitzsimmons. He was a very well-known boxer, who lived in a lovely house a block from Adelaide's. He had a lot of ground around his house, surrounded by a fence. Every Sunday he would put on an exhibition of boxing with a cub bear, much to the entertainment of the young men in the vicinity. I remember so well "Adelaide and Hughes". She was a great ballerina, who danced in some of the greatest revues; some at New York's Century Roof, like "The Cat and the Canary"; the Palace Theater; all top vaudeville theaters across the country. She was often billed as "La Petite Adelaide". Johnny Hughes was quite a bit younger than she was, and was a marvelous dancer. He was her second husband, and died of tuberculosis at an early age. Her first husband, I believe his name was Fox, was much older and very rich. It was he who had purchased most of the gorgeous furnishings in her home, which was just a few blocks from where I lived. Magnificent teak wood tables, screens, etc. trimmed with large carved ivory flowers; large, very ornate pieces of Dresden and Meissen made into beautiful lamps; cabinets with exquisite crystal stemware and china. Her house was where I first developed an admiration for, and longing to possess, some better things than we had at our house. There was a garage with a room built over it where there was a small piano and a "bar" for Adelaide to practice dance. It was a thrill to play for her, and also be invited to her house when some of the guests were famous vaudevillians. Pat Rooney and his wife and partner, Marion Bent, would be there, and sometimes brought their little son Pat Junior. The house was square gray stucco with flower boxes filled with geraniums in the summer time. Charlotte Greenwoods and Sidney Grants house next door was nearly identical, just with different colored boxes. She remained known for her song "Bend Down, Sister, If You Want to Remain Thin". Adelaide was originally from Cohoes, NY. Her maiden name was Dickey. Her mother became a friend to my mother, and made all of Adelaide's gorgeous costumes. During the World's Fair in 1939 in Long Island, Martin, Judy, David and I were invited to stay at Adelaide's new home to which she had moved after her retirement from the stage. The house was only five minutes from the fairgrounds, and we really enjoyed being together, and of course, the luxury of breakfast in bed, and such royal treatment.
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Eva Tanguay was known as the girl who made Vaudeville famous. Evas most famous song was I Dont Care What Happens to Me." 80 I havent been able to find any references to Sidney Grant as a performer during that period, although there are references for Charlotte Greenwood and Eva Tangway. Mary Adelaide Dickey was a Vaudeville dancer with Johnny Hughes. 81 Actually, Charlotte Greenwood died on December 28, 1977. 82 British-born Bob Fitzsimmons was heavyweight champion 1897-99. 83 Adelaides first husband was William A. Lloyd. The marriage was short lived. Adelaide had him publicly arrested for stealing her clothing and pawning her jewelry. The two were divorced shortly after. (Source: Paul D. Dunleavy)
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****** Mamma used to play poker once a week with her lady friends. I remember Mrs. Neustadt, Mrs. Kaufman, and Mrs. Mannheimer best of all. Mrs. Neustadt was very frugal and was always coming up with new recipes for food that would use less expensive ingredients. One day she brought a recipe for an egg-less butter-less cake, and Mamma's comment was that she could not see any sense in eating it. Mrs. Kaufman was 5 feet 8 inches tall, very thin, and had a very sallow complexion. She had a serious heart condition, of which we were all made well aware. Whenever the "game" was to be at our house, Mamma would ask that we not bring any friends home from school that day. There must be no noise or excitement. "Remember Mrs. Kaufman's condition!" Well, everybody took such care and precaution, that Mrs. Kaufman outlived the whole group. ****** The Edelstein family lived a block away from our house in Bensonhurst. They had a large automobile that would seat seven people. It had fold-away seats between the back and front seats. Mr. Edelstein and his wife would often invite Mamma and me to go for a Sunday ride. Since it was an "open car", we would wear a sort of canvas coat called a "duster", a hat and veil, and goggles. The roads were all dirt roads outside of the city. A big trip was between fifteen and twenty miles. It was a real treat. ****** Lou and Nettie went together for a few years before they were married. They could never agree on anything. Mamma had prepared a fine dinner for the bridal couple, Nettie's mother, brothers, and our family on the Sunday before they married. Lou and Nettie arrived, quarreling, and the dinner was a fiasco. Mamma felt they would not have a good marriage, and she was right. They were married for eight years before Lucille was born, and were divorced after Lucille made her debut at the Waldorf when she was eighteen. The strange thing was that they really loved each other, but there was a clash of personalities. They remained friends, and Lou always provided for her extravagantly. ****** It's a very rainy Sunday, more like a day in late fall, than August 1979. I have not done any writing in this note book for quite a while -- Just too busy, and at night, and too tired. After all I will be eighty in a few months, and I'm beginning to really feel my years. Now it's my turn to sit down to read, and soon fall asleep! What a waste of time, when there's so little left! Today is Miriam's sixtieth birthday! I was just nineteen when she was born. That was quite a year. Etta had been married at my mother's bed-side. Harry was serving with the Allied Expeditionary Force (World War I). How did Etta meet Max Segel when he lived in Schenectady and we lived in Brooklyn? Etta's friend, Cecil Heisman, was married to her first cousin, Henry Monarch. Henry was a traveling salesman for a men's clothing firm. He used to sell to Charles Jacobs in Albany, and to Page 42 of 136

a store in Schenectady (probably Nusbaums). Henry met Max at the Schenectady store, and in the course of conversation, Henry said he knew a nice girl for Max. Henry invited Max to Brooklyn, arranged a date with Etta, and all turned out well! ****** Aunt Nellie Bregman lived in Chicago. Her husband, Louis was in the junk business. He evidently had a large stock of metals on hand when World War I broke out. He soon became a millionaire. They had two sons, Robert and Walter, and a daughter, Sylvia. Sylvia was a very beautiful girl, but unfortunately was born with one arm that was tied off above the elbow like an amputee. The other arm was perfect. She was brought east and went to Lasell College in Auburndale, Massachusetts. Howard Chandler Christy, the artist who made the "Christy Girl" famous, was anxious to use her for a model. When she was fully grown, an artificial hand was made for her in Paris. Sam would always take her out to dinner and dance whenever he got to Chicago. She made it a point to always have a mesh pocket book on a chain on that arm, a sort of a security thing. She would always order food that she could manage without help. She was a year younger than me. She married a nice man, and had a child. Robert Bregmans son Buddy 84 became a famous show business director and producer. ****** There was a silent movie house called "Bob Stone's" in our neighborhood that posted a coming attraction named "His First Performance". Moe had seen this picture and suggested that we see it, so Mamma, Etta and I went. It was the story of a young man from a small town making his debut in a movie in which he was to portray the hero. His parents had been invited to see the picture, and were seen sitting in a front row. When the hero was to rescue his sweetheart from the room where the villain was keeping her, the villain hid behind the door through which the hero entered. At this point, the picture showed the parents standing up and shouting to the hero on the screen, telling where the villain was. It probably was a hilarious scene, and my mother, who had a melodious laugh, couldn't stop laughing. She laughed so hard that the whole audience in Bob Stones was laughing with her. The movie was stopped, and we were asked to leave. We laughed all the way home, probably with wet pants. We had some "open air" movie houses, only open in the summer, and of course closed when it rained. No, these were not drive-ins, as there were very few cars around then. For a few summers I played the piano for the show, from eight to eleven p.m., playing appropriate types of music; sad for the sad scenes, gallops for horses, hearts and flowers for the love scenes, all for one dollar a show. After all, it often gave me five or six dollars a week, if it didn't rain, and sometimes as much as seven dollars. That was a lot of money to us. I'd give it to Mamma for the family fund, glad to get a nickel for a soda on Sunday. ******

Buddys cousin, Walter Bregman, confirmed that Nellies maiden name was Jacobs and came from Cleveland. Nellie is the sister of Sarah Jacobs, and daughter of Henry and Mary Jacobs o f Cleveland, Ohio. Nellie and Sarahs mother, Mary Jacobs, was Philip Goldsteins sister.
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Did I mention that Papa always wore a derby hat, except during the summer months, when the men all wore straw hats? In case you don't know what a man's straw hat looked like, it was a round crown with about a four inch brim, usually with a bright colored two or three inch ribbon band around the base of the crown. When one owned and wore a derby, it had to be kept well brushed. A special brush was needed that could reach the base of the crown's curve. I have Papa's brush in my dresser drawer, labeled because I doubt anyone of this generation would know what it is used for. It is probably over a hundred years old, as I assume he owned it since the 1880's. ****** Papa always had tea with his supper at night. Incidentally, we called our meals breakfast, dinner and supper, not breakfast, lunch and dinner, as we do today. As soon as he finished his soup, which we had every night, his cup of tea came along before the main course. Mamma always said it had to be so hot it would boil in his mouth. ****** The West End Line of the subway to Bensonhurst, the part that is now elevated, used to run on the street. The cars were dark red wood. Of course when we had a snowstorm, which was very infrequent, there was no transportation available. No such thing as a taxi, there. One Saturday Sam had five of his friends at our house for a poker game. When it was time for them to go home, no trains were running because of a heavy snow. After they all walked to the station, five blocks away, and waited for the train that did not come, they all returned to our house and woke us up, so we could make room for them to sleep. Sunday morning, Mamma baked biscuits to eat with her homemade blackberry jam. Freezers or electric refrigerators were not even dreamed of yet, so before the guests were able to leave on Monday, our icebox and pantry were really empty. It was fun! Isaac Adels ******

I just returned home from the market, where I purchased a quart box of strawberries for eighty-nine cents. I could not help thinking of the times, years ago, when the vegetable peddler came with his horse and wagon, selling beautiful large blackberries for six cents a quart. Mamma would buy a crate of them (I think there were twelve boxes), to make her delicious blackberry jam. So, she paid only sixty cents for the lot. ****** Page 44 of 136

My mother was not well in 1918, and Etta and Max were planning to be married in June of that year. We had an engagement reception for them at our house, and it was an occasion for all our friends to be together. Papa was not thrilled when George Jordan arrived with his wife. She was Mamma's friend, and George's second wife. Believe it or not, his wife, Rae, had 85 previously been his mother-in-law. That's right, his first wife died, and he married her mother. Papa never did get over it. There was a big article about it in the New York Times. But, in spite of the differences in ages, they lived very happily for many years. Etta and I went to her funeral, and a queen could not have had a burial any finer. George was in the kind of business that outfitted Arctic expeditions, from the dogs to food. The plans for Etta's wedding all had to be changed because Mamma was so very ill. She had an enlarged heart, and the doctor said she could not get well. Etta and Max were married at her bedside on June 26, 1918, and on July 20th, Mamma died. She was fifty-three years old. I believe Mamma died during the summer that the terrible epidemic of Spanish influenza struck. People were expiring by the thousands and the morticians were unable to keep up with their necessary work. Cemeteries were unable to prepare the ground for burial as fast as it was needed. Almost all the women, who were pregnant and contracted the flu, died. Our community was very hard hit, and doctors and nurses were taking care of patients day and night. I was fortunate in not getting the flu, but many friends were lost, among them a wonderful nurse who had taken such good care of my mother in her last illness. Harry was overseas at the time with the Allied Expeditionary Force, and in her last hours, in a state of delirium, Mamma spoke to Harry, and seemed to embrace him. I was just eighteen when Mamma died, and had never been allowed to do anything in the kitchen. It was impossible to get household help, so I was really in an almost impossible situation. Fortunately, I had a wonderful neighbor, who reprimanded me for just crying and not doing anything to help myself. She taught me how to market, cook and get down on my knees and scrub the kitchen floor. I probably had more tears than water in the pail, but because she was a hard taskmaster, it all worked out okay. Papa did not go back to work after Mamma died. He passed the time reading, walking our darling French bulldog, which Sam had bought for me when she was five weeks old, and listening to me play piano. I had, with Papa's help, bought a Knobe baby grand, when I was sixteen. I had to pay twelve dollars
85

Harry Adels in Blois, France November 11, 1918

The 1920 US Census shows a George Jordan (35) and wife Rae (53), living in Brooklyn.

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a month, and interest. I thought I would never get it paid up. When Papa came to New York City, he joined a "chevra", a group affiliated with a synagogue. This entitled him to burial ground for the family. He never went to any meetings or service, but he did pay his yearly dues and donations for over twenty years. When Mamma died, Moe and Papa went to the society rooms to make the necessary arrangements. Mamma died on a Saturday afternoon, about 1:20 p.m. The men there would not talk, because it was still Shabbas. Ten dollars made the conversation okay. However, Papa was told that he could have only one grave, and the rest would have to be all separate. Papa told them where to go, in no uncertain terms, went to Mt. Carmel Cemetery and purchased a large family plot, where Mamma was buried, as well as Papa, Moe, Maude, Lou, Sam, and Alfred. The funeral for Mamma was held at our house, and when some men from the "chevra" appeared, Papa ordered them out of the house. After Mamma died, I was very depressed. One day, Sam called me up from the office, and asked me to meet him there in the afternoon. Surprise! He had bought a pedigree French bulldog puppy, "Lady Vampire the Second". The pup's mother had died giving birth. We got a woolen cap, and putting Vampie in it, I took her home on the subway. She had to be fed with a bottle, and she was just what I needed to cheer me up. She was a beautiful pup, and my Dad and I were so very fond of her. Papa would take her for walks every day, and they would join the minister of the Episcopal Church and his Airedale. So every day, the two men would meet at a certain hour, walk their dogs, come back to our house, and spend an hour or two in discussion of the times. Of course, there was no radio or certainly no television, which was not even dreamed of. When Papa died, Vampie would go into his room, paws on bed, and cry and cry. When I moved into an apartment when I was married in April 1922, I gave her to my brother, Harry, who lived in that large lovely home outside of Troy. Harry entered her in many dog shows, where she won many ribbons for best in breed. In spite of many tries, she never had a pup. ****** Harry was shell-shocked and mustard gassed while serving in France during World War I. He was hospitalized in Blois and Saint-Nazaire, and never regained good health. We never wrote to Harry that Mamma had died. When the War was over, we received notice that we could visit him when he returned to Fort Dix, in Wrightstown, N.J. We had no car, so it was quite a project to get there from Bensonhurst. However, we arrived just as the train he was on was coming to the station, and our relief was great when we saw that he had all his limbs. Papa, Etta, Sam and I were there. Also there was Tillie, whom he had married just before he went over-seas. We had never met her before. Procedures to get Harry out of the Army were very simple. Papa just signed a paper saying he would look after him, and the next day Harry and Tillie arrived at our house to stay. He had been shell shocked, and the nerves in his heels had been shattered. There were times when his pain was unbearable. After some time, he went to work for Moe, and Sam and Papa set Tillie and Harry up in their own apartment.

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****** It was very difficult to get household help during World War I. Most of the help, which we called "servant girls", were immigrants, speaking very little English. There was no quota on them coming into the U.S., but many were from Germany, and they had gone back before the war or later were interned. We had a large house, and there was just Papa and me most of the time, as Sam used to travel as a salesman for Moe for ten months a year. There was a State run office in New York City (Miss Mason's) that placed unwed mothers, with their infants, in private homes. They were paid twenty dollars a month, and given room, board and infant care. I was just eighteen years old, our servant girl had been sent back to Germany, and the house work, my studies and care of my father was a bit too much. So, I visited Miss Mason's, and returned home on the West End Line to Brooklyn with Frances Rodriguez and Enrico, a four-week-old cute little boy. Her husband was in jail, and relatives were caring for her two older children. Frances was German, but her husband was Spanish. She had been trying to make it alone, but being out of food and money, she needed help. Can you picture me on the one hour trip home with her, the baby, a satchel with diapers, a few of her clothes, etc.? At home at last! Papa couldn't believe what he saw. But after Frances had a large bowl of soup, nursed her baby, and took over, he was delighted. Enrico was much too much of a name, so we called him "Jimmy", and for a few days he slept in the large family wicker clothesbasket until we got a crib for him. There was a nice porch on the house, so Jimmy could have plenty of fresh air in his "basket", which was often shared with their little black dog, "Kewpie". We became such good friends with them. Frances stayed with us until the war was over, and Jimmy was walking all over the house with Kewpie at his heels. Her husband got out of jail, the family was reunited, and until I was married and moved to Albany, Frances would visit us often. ****** I remember going to lunch with some girlfriends, one of whom had a pack of Benson & Hedges cigarettes, which she offered to us. I took one and smoked (or rather thought I did) in Schraft's restaurant. My conscience really bothered me, so that night I told my father what I had done. I expected to be severely reprimanded, but instead, he said he hoped that would be the worst thing I ever did. He then told me that in Europe all the women of the aristocracy rode sidesaddle through their estates, and smoked pipes. Sort of took all the fun out of smoking. ****** Etta was thirty-two years old when she married, and three or four of her girlfriends were still single and working. One of them, Freda Campion (nee: Freda Yarlow). Every evening, Etta's friends would be invited to our house. Of course, we would serve cake, coffee, etc. After they left, Miriam would conveniently awaken, cry, and I was left with the dishes to wash and things to put away. I felt it was cruel for Etta to "show off" her car, husband, and baby, to her "poor" friends, many of whom never did marry. The only one who did okay was Freda. She married John Campion, a gentile, nice guy, and settled in St. Thomas. Page 47 of 136

After Miriam was born, in 1919, Max was having a few good years in the business. 86 Papa, Sam and I lived in a two-family house in Brooklyn. Our home was always neat and clean, but all the furniture, etc., was older than I could remember. I was nineteen at the time. We had no household help, as Papa was no longer employed, and Sam and I shared most of the expenses. Papa had very little money left, as Mamma's illness, doctors, nurses, cemetery, and funeral costs had left only fifteen hundred dollars in his account. I was teaching music and taking care of the house, cooking, and cleaning, which I hated. Max bought a huge black "Pierce Arrow" car, one with the lights built into the front fenders. Etta, Max and the baby would descend upon us, stay about a week, and bedlam resulted. ****** My first beau, or one of the first, was Moe Troper. He was a school teacher, who years later became head of the Joint Distribution Committee, located in Paris, and was instrumental in getting many Jews out of Europe during World War II. In 1917, I dated Walter Lemon. He was a Columbia University graduate electrical engineer. He was chosen to be the wireless operator on the ship that took President Wilson to the League of Nations. I believe it was at Versailles. Believe it or not, I almost married a Rabbi! His name was Harry Jacobs. He was young, about twenty-six, and spent a lot of time at our house. He was a very gallant suitor, and took me to many fine restaurants and to the theater for many Broadway plays. Somehow, I could not see myself married to him. Lou Oppenheim was my real boyfriend for four years. I even wore his ring. His mother's 87 name was Nevada, because she was born when her father was governor of that state. The Oppenheims were fine people and were not happy when Lou and I broke up. But, I had met Martin. He was in town from West Point, where he was a cadet, or I should say "student officer". He invited me to his graduation. It took a lot of convincing for my father to consent to my going, as it was not right for a girl to stay away from home over night. There were chaperons all over the Post, and at every entrance door to every building. Even at the big dance, we had to dance an elbow's length apart. In 1919 I met Herman Chasan, who was a friend of my brother, Harry. Herman had a gentlemen's furnishing store in Troy, and was reputed to be worth the fabulous sum of ten thousand dollars. He was a gentle soul, who looked like the comic character of the time, Ish Kabbible. The family matchmaker got to work, but I already was dating Martin, who had resigned from the army and was living at the Garfinkles. Harry and Tillie came to Bensonhurst for a visit and brought Herman along. He brought a five pound box of candy to me, but Martin

86

When Isaac Adels died in February 1922, his address was listed on the death certificate as 2255 82nd St. in Brooklyn. 87 Unless Nevada was a nickname, I have found no daughter of a Nevada governor with that first name. Ancestry.com records do show that Nevada Smith Oppenheim was Lous mother, and that she was born in Wernersville, PA. Nevadas husband is a Son of the American Revolution.

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arrived at our house unexpectedly, and proceeded to eat most of the candy. Poor Herman was no match for Martin, so no "match".

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Part 3 - The Loeb Family in New York City

For many years before I met Martin, David Garfinkle was president of our Temple. On his retirement, he was presented with a gold watch and chain. In earlier years he had gone to Poland to his parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. 88 From what I was told, this was a real Polish celebration that lasted many days. When he returned to America, after the festivities, he brought with him four nephews, Joe Jones, Lawrence Jones, Maurice Goodman and Martin Lubaszka, who would change his name to Martin 89 Loeb. The four young boys, all over fifteen years old, lived at David's home (a large one family house). He made sure that all went to school. Lawrence and Joe Jones only finished high school. Martin Loeb went on to New York University and to West Point. He had such remarkably high marks that he was not required to take the entrance exams. Martin got his appointment to West Point from Congressman Meyer London in 1917. He needed two hundred dollars to deposit there, I believe, for David Garfinkle ca. 1890 uniforms. He wrote to the officer-in-charge, asking if he would be permitted to borrow this from his brother, to whom repayment would not have to be paid until after graduation. This was okayed, and the original letter is now in the large album I have in the attic.
90

Maurice Goodman went on to college. During a summer vacation, against the will of David Garfinkle, he took a job selling tickets at the box office in the Palace Theater in New York City. It so happened that once a year the owner, Benjamin F. Keith, gave a party for all his help, and of course Maurice was included. He was introduced to the big boss, who was very
The Internet site JewishGen.org shows Davids parents, Jankiel and Chana, getting married about 1853, which would mean they were married 54 years when David visited them in 1907. Maybe it was their 55th wedding anniversary David attended. 89 David, Celia and Harold Garfinkle returned to the United States on October 1, 1907, with at least three relatives, Max Garfinkle, Morche Laub (Martin Loeb), and Lasar Jonas (Lawrence Jones). Jossel Jonas (Joe Jones) arrived September 16, 1904, to join uncle David Garfinkle. Maurice Goodman was born in Seneca Falls, NY, in 1881. Maurices mother, Sophia (Celia) Judenstein Goodma n, and David are first cousins. Therefore, Maurice and his two brothers and three sisters all second cousins of Martin Loeb. Three of Davids siblings were born between 1854 and 1856. Therefore, his parents must have been celebrating their fifty-fifth anniversary in 1907. 90 Ellis Island passenger list records show Martin Loeb as 11 years old and Lawrence Jones as 14 years old in 1907, and Joe Jones as 16 in 1904. Maurice Goodman was 26 years old in 1907.
88

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impressed with him. Mr. Keith told him to go to his office at a given time, and gave Maurice a card to present to the receptionist. He was given a good job, and went up the ladder very fast in the corporation. Maurice married and had three children. When I met him years later, I was more than impressed, as he, his wife and three young ones, had been traveling in Europe. In those days, pasteurized milk was not available on the continent. So Maurice had a branch of Borden Milk Company, known as Walker-Gordon, deliver milk in various places, no doubt by ocean liners, so that his children could have pasteurized milk. When Mr. Keith died, he left a sizable amount of 91 shares to Maurice. Lawrence Jones settled in Detroit, married and had two sons. He did well financially, representing numerous big name wholesalers of ladies hosiery, such as "Gotham Gold Stripe", etc. These were silk hose. No such thing as nylon, then. Joe Jones never married, but he was quite a "ladies man". He was a jobber distributor for the S. S. Kresge stores. A real character, who would go to a fine restaurant, order a head of lettuce to be served whole in a wooden bowl, put olive oil and salt on it, cut it up, and eat it with a glass of milk. ****** I just heard that Florence Garfinkle died a few weeks ago. I am sad that I did not know when she died, as I certainly would have made every effort to be at her funeral. Why? Well, Uncle David Garfinkle was her father, and in respect to his memory, I would have wanted to be at her funeral, at least. ****** Now, to get back to Uncle Dave... He was grandma Pauline's brother. I had been teaching piano to Florence Garfinkle from the time she was about ten years old. I went to New York with Uncle Dave to help pick out a Mason & Hamlin baby grand for her. (He was not Uncle Dave to me then, just Mr. Garfinkle.) I was dating Harold, Dave's son. He was a nice guy, but he had a problem deciding what to do with his life. Dave was connected with the big wholesale men's clothing firm known as the Three G's. Harold wanted no part of that business. At one time, he decided to go into the selling of home or office aquariums. He purchased so many, all sizes and shapes, had them all over the house, then gave them away. This was followed by many other unsuccessful ventures. He was always belittled in front of people, so he developed a real inferiority complex. He married, then divorced, and in need of money pawned Dave's treasured gold watch.
92

91

New York City Directories verify that Maurice was employed by Mr. Keith at the Palace Theater as a lawyer. Maurice, his wife (Adele, b. 1894) and children (Susan, b. 1919, Maurice, Jr., b. 1921, Walter, b. 1922) returned from Europe on the SS Leviathan on August 12, 1924. Maurice married Adele Flato on October 10, 1918. 92 Lawrence Jones had three sons, Harold, Jerome and Milton.

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Harold's second marriage was after his father died. 94 nothing has been heard of him for years.

93

He has a son, somewhere, but

Florence was always a spoiled, mean, difficult child. She was many years younger than her brother, and her mother could never do or try to do much with her behavior problems. 95 Florence married a fine man named Fishback , who was, and still may be a chemist with the firm who makes all "Cutex" products. They had two children, a son and a daughter. Her marriage ended in divorce, as he could not abide her miserable temper. Their son is a graduate of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. Their daughter married a Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute 96 graduate. She has a masters degree, and when I last heard, she was teaching in Boston. Florence later had a "relationship" with an uncouth guy, whom Martin refused to be in the same room with, after he embarrassed us in a restaurant when we invited him and Florence 97 for dinner. They later got married. ****** How do I remember the day I met Martin? I had been dating Harold Garfinkle, Martin's cousin. Harold called me on a Saturday during Passover and said his cousin was home from West Point. I thought it would be a good idea to get Rose Price, my best friend, to join us so we could have a double date. What was the "date"? We would all spend the Saturday afternoon at my house! Where could we go with no money and no cars? Being a Saturday, Papa was home. So I played piano, we sat and talked, and our German servant girl (we didn't call them "maids") served wine and sponge cake, as it was Passover. This meeting was followed by an invitation from Martin for me and a friend to go to West Point for a day to attend a baseball game. I went with Rhoda Abaloff, and we were very impressed with the parade, Army mule, pomp and ceremony. I really did not know a thing about baseball. So the romance began, and never ended.
93

Martin Loeb at West Point

The 1930 US Census shows Harold and Gertrude Garfinkle living in NYC, being the same ages when married as shown in the Census in 1930, inferring that they were married after November (Harolds birthday) 1929 but before April 1930. 94 Harold married Lenore Goldfarb. Harold changed his name to Garfield in 1937, and had a son, David, the same year. 95 NYC records indicate that Florence J. Garfinkle married Azriel L. Fishbach in Kings on November 8, 1934, license number 18838. (Note name is spelled Fishbach, not Fishback.) 96 Florences son, Larry Fishbach, did graduate from RPI and is now a retired NASA engineer living in Ohio. Her daughter, Vida Fishbach married RPI graduate Arthur Goldstein, and lives in the Boston area. 97 Florence and Leon Fishbach were divorced in 1934. Florence married Mac Garod in 1963.

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(Editor's note: Pearl had kept the letters written from Martin during those first days of their dating, and here they are transcribed.)
West Point, N.Y. Mother's Evening My dear Miss Adels, Pray, forgive my boldness. I realize that if I don't get into action myself, no one else will do it for me. Besides I wish to inform you that the cake you served me some time ago was perfectly delicious. We have to be somewhat skeptical at times, especially so with homemade food, so you will deduce that you have to be just a little bit careful in coming to conclusions. I have had ample time now and have decided that everything was all-right. I expected you and Harold up here to-day. No doubt that the threatening weather kept you at home. Although it did not rain, it looked awfully threatening all day and it seemed to be waiting for someone to come up to visit me. But you fooled the rain cunningly. You did not appear, and the weather and everything else looked gloomier than ever. I wish that you would come up coming Sunday, that is except my invitation for the same. To reciprocate I'll come to see you Saturday the 24th of May providing that you don't take me for your old burglar friend. I shall have a one day leave and naturally our going to celebrate by show, etc..... Will you be good enough to help me spend the evening. I shall ever be thankful to you. I am to graduate again on June 11th when I leave West Point for keeps. What a glorious feeling! Just 29 more days and a (break), lady! I expect to have about six or eight weeks furlough. It's the leaves that keep me happy. Without them life would be a bore. I sincerely hope that you will accept my invitation for coming Sunday. Sincerely, Martin Loeb Lieut. U.S. Army West Point, N.Y. Room 512

(Apparently, Pearl did not receive that letter on time, as evidenced in the text of the next letter:)
West Point, N.Y. May 15, 1919 My dear Miss Adels, Many thanks for your timely reply. I feel myself obliged to enlighten matters somehow. When Harold relayed his Special Delivery to me he told me that he had not been home for a week and that was why he could not reply early as he did not know that I wrote to him until he came home. Consequently I sent my reply, to his Special, down to "his" base. No doubt that he was not down to the base for a week, this time. The following day I wrote to Mrs. Garfinkle and mentioned that I wrote to Harold and that I addressed him at the base. It is too bad that we could not get coordinated through the mails. Thanks for your complements in regard to graduation. You say. Miss Adels, "How glorious it must be to have one's goal so near." I sincerely wish that I could see the light as you do. It's a goal, no doubt, but do you deem it as "The Goal". Would you advise me to light the pipe, sit in the cozy arm-chair and muse on happy recollections? I often did wonder when and where the goal will wind up. So lead on ye Dame Fortune. I shall follow in you wake. (Awful! Isn't it?) Let me impart a bit of more luck. I leave for France on July 10th. Just like this, lady! My entire class goes to France for a tour of observation and study which will extend to the end of October. What more could one dream of. Now, let's delve on goals. Really, isn't a treat? Isn't it a realization of one's fondest hopes! Wee! Wee! I feel French already. Miss Adels, could you come up on Saturday, May 31st and see the Army-Navy baseball game. It's the game between West Point and Annapolis Midshipmen. I have two seats reserved for guests. If Harold is in town, why do come up with him, otherwise have your own choice. I am enclosing tickets. Do advise me in reference to this matter at your earliest convenience. Sincerely, Martin Loeb

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(The next letter started with Martin's pen leaving an ink blot (shown here as *) under Pearl's name. He accentuated that ink blot with an exclamation:)
May 22, 1919 Dear Pearl! !x * Bang!! Now you're satisfied. Are you not? Just look what you brought unto yourself. My pen kicked like anything, but finally I induced it and made it listen to reason. I might have been somewhat prompter in replying. My studies hindered the good intentions. We're having our examinations at the present and at times I just find myself entirely devoted to x, y, z and such other brain-racking letters. These are my very last examinations, so I guess you spoke wise when you called it a goal. A goal it is! I shall call at your home between 7:00 and 7:15 p.m. I doubt whether I could make it any earlier as I won't get to New York before 3:30 or 4:00 p.m. The hop I referred to is scheduled for the same Saturday as the baseball game is, only it's staged in the evening. It is one of the gala evening on the post. The middies as a rule attend after being licked. This is in order to alleviated their feelings. We won seven straight and I've bet on another victory. I'll close now until we see each other. Sincerely Martin

(And another...)
May 31, 1919 Dear Pearl, Here I be, just as I promised. Pearl, you missed the time of your life by leaving early. Great God!! What fun!! You remember the old mule running away with the two cadets. That cadet who held on deserves some credit, don't you think so? This was but little to what took place after the game was over. You probably remember seeing a little mix up behind the screen in back of the batter's box. I'll tell you what happened then. A naval officer, a lieut. commander, went over to the cadet section and helped himself to two caps and started to go back. One, Major Kelly, watched him and when he passed by him he stepped up to him and demanded the caps. The naval officer refused to surrender his prize, so the good Major bumped on the nose, took both cadet caps away as well as his. Two other naval officers came up to help out and one buck private stepped up and knocked one out. In the meanwhile another captain butted in, tried to end the fight and told the naval officer that there will be no fighting. The naval officer said, "Like H... there won't." The old captain said, "So be it," and knocked him down, too. They brought a goat out on the field and this animal is the middies mascot. After winning the game in the 11th inning the entire naval section made a rush for the goat. We stood fast and met them nicely. In a second they were sprawling in the dirt, smeared up with blood. One of the admirals who reviewed us chased two cadets while the other gent was being cut into ribbons by cadets and officers. Nothing like it ever happened before at West Point, anyway. The poor goat died last night. Someone borrowed her from a boy on the post. I talked to that young lady about you joining her party. She suggested to have you come up with her. So you see it is just fine and dandy. She asked me to suggest to you to call her up. Her telephone is Morningside 4475, Apartment 31, ask for Miss Espianosa. Her whole name is Miss Rosalina Espianosa. She is a charming young lady. She teaches in the High School of Commerce. She is a senorita (Spanish). Her gentleman friend is (myself). So you see it's in the family. Please call her soon as possible and arrange matters with her. She is a veteran at West Point, and knows more about the place than I do. It was very nice of you to come up with your pretty lady friend. Don't get jealous as yet! Do remember me to her, and tell her that I am thankful to her for visiting. So let me know as soon as possible of your plans so at to arrange my end of it. Miss Espianosa will probably tell you where to meet her. I believe that she is coming up on the afternoon of June 10th and will remain till the afternoon of the 11th. Very sincerely, Martin.

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Martin had about a month's leave before his class went to Europe for a tour of inspection 98 of the battlefields of World War I. When he returned to the States, he was stationed at Camp 99 Benning at Columbus, Georgia. He came to New York on a one-day pass to take me to the Army-Navy football game. There was a surplus of officers in the Army, so he took the opportunity to resign. At that time the pay for a second lieutenant was $37.50 a week. He obtained a position doing accounting with a large firm of accountants. He went back to New York University for about a year to obtain the few credits he needed to get his degree. He had attended NYU before he went to West Point. ****** Martin lived with the Garfinkles after graduation until his folks came from Europe. The Loebs (Lubaszkas) were naturalized American citizens living in Poland. Grandpa Solomon Loeb came to America many years before, remained long enough to become a citizen, and returned to Poland where he owned a large home and general store. He came back to the United States at the proper periods to keep up his citizenship. Mitchell came to the United 100 States before World War I, and was teaching at Bay Ridge High School. The rest of the family came to 101 the United States after World War I. They all spoke English, so there was no language barrier. During World War I they were protected, to a point, because of Solomons American citizenship. Many stories of unusual experiences were told to me after they came to America to stay. One story was that Grandma Pauline was in their store one day when a Polish army officer came to question her about the whereabouts of a certain Jewish man. She told the officer that she had not seen the man in question for
98

Martin Loeb in Army Uniform

Martin Loeb entered the United States Military Academy (West Point) in June of 1917 as part of the Class of 1921. However, West Point accelerated the program to commission officers to serve in World War I. Under the War Accelerated Program, Martin graduated on November 1, 1918. Jane Loeb has a copy of Martins diploma for this graduation. Since the war ended ten days later, the cadets in Martins class (now Army lieutenants) returned to West Point to finish their abbreviated studies. The Class of 1921 graduated again on June 11, 1919, the date referred to in Martins first letter, above. 99 The 1920 US Census shows Martin at Camp Benning, GA. 100 Mitchell Loeb (Mechel Lubaschka) arrived in the US on November 16, 1900, at the age of 11, and resided with his uncle, David Garfinkle. 101 Chester Loeb (Ladok Lubaschka) arrived in the US on July 23, 1920, at the age of 26, with his cousin Felix Garfinkle, to reside with his brother, Mitchell. Solomon (Salomon) Loeb, already a citizen, returned to the US on September 25, 1920, at the age of 60. His wife, Pauline (Pessa Lubaska), age 53, and daughter, Celia (Cecillia Lubashka), age 26, arrived together on July 8, 1921.

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many months. Just then, Grandpa Solomon arrived and he was asked the same question. He did not think as fast, and informed the officer that the man in question just went down the street. Well, Grandma quickly said, "Please don't pay any attention to my husband. He just came from the insane asylum yesterday." She probably saved a life by her quick thinking. Another time a young Jewish man was arrested for something unimportant. Grandma heard that he was to be driven in an open horse drawn wagon to a jail in a town eight or nine miles away. Pauline knew that the two men accompanying the prisoner would stop at a certain place for drinks of liquor to help them withstand the bitter cold. So, she sent word preceding them to get the two men free, extra potent drinks, and while they were intoxicated friends released the prisoner and gave him

Lubaszka (Loeb) family in Poland shelter.

Years later, when Grandpa Solomon died, as per his request, no rabbi spoke. But, many men and women did relate some particular act that was performed that saved their life from the pogrom of the Cossacks. Grandma Pauline was a Garfinkle. That family, from Russia and Poland, were all welleducated, also. One of her brothers was an attorney before the Bolsheviks came into power. He owned a large home and land. He left home, supposedly on government work, but was found in an isolated cabin, frozen to death. His sons, Max and Felix Garfinkle, came to the United 102 States. Max later lived with a daughter, Edith Wiland, in Delmar, N.Y. Felix settled in Chicago and became an accountant. I have been told that in 1974 or 1975, the Polish government finally paid a sum of money to the sons for property that was confiscated. Because the Loeb home in Poland was, at that time, on the border of Russia, there were times when first one army would occupy the town, then another.103 Celia was a young girl, then. So, a deep hole was made in the cellar for her protection. There she would hide when her folks were forced to provide lodging for officers. She was given food, etc., whenever it was safe to do so.

102

Max Garfinkle arrived in October 1907 with Martin Loeb, Lawrence Jones and David Garfinkle and family (See other Footnote). Felix Garfinkle, age 15, arrived from Poland in July 1920 on the same ship as Chester Loeb (Ladok Lubaschka) (See other Footnote). 103 During Polands war with Bolshevik Russia, the Bolsheviks occupied Sierpc on August 12, 1920, and stayed for 10 days. Celia was almost 31 years old on that date.

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After the war, they wanted to stay here in America, although Celia and Chester did go 104 back, many years later, for a visit. That's when Celia came back with Joe, her husband. ****** When Martin's folks came to America in 1920-21 they settled in Bensonhurst, just a few blocks from where I lived. Martin's mother, Pauline, was David Garfinkle's sister. She was a bargain hunter, and as she needed pots and pans for her kitchen, she was thrilled when a neighbor took her shopping to the Lower East Side of New York City. There, the streets were always lined with pushcarts where one could buy almost anything. One day, prior to our marriage, Martin asked me to join him at his mother's for Shabbas dinner. We arrived early, as I wanted to be of help. Pauline was making chicken soup, which had a delightful aroma. But, when Martin entered the kitchen, he almost passed out, as his mother had purchased what, at that time, was known as "chamber pots", complete with covers, in which the soup was cooking. You guessed it; Martin suddenly did not care for chicken soup. I guess there was something about chicken soup and Martin, because years later, when I was not well and confined to bed, Martin decided he wanted some chicken soup. With my instructions, he got a fowl out of the freezer, put it on to cook, and added the seasoning and vegetables. An hour or two later, he came upstairs and informed me that on account of me he burned his tongue. I never did figure out why it was my fault, because I was upstairs and the soup was downstairs! ****** When we lived in Bensonhurst, our house was about ten blocks from the Ulmer Park pier. The small fishing boats from Coney Island would come in each day about four o'clock in the afternoon. Sam and Harry would go there after work, buy a dozen lobsters for seventy-five cents, or some crabs for ten cents each, and Mamma would fix a delicious sea food dinner, chowder first. After I was married, but still living in Bensonhurst, I always cooked a fish dinner on Friday, with homemade clam chowder for the first course. Grandpa Sol Loeb would always arrive in the late afternoon, remark how very good the "vegetable soup" smelled, and have a bowl of "soup". Of course, he never told Pauline, nor did we, because she kept a kosher house. After all, what good Jew ate clams or shell food? ****** Aunt Celia Garfinkle was a real bargain hunter. It didn't matter what was on sale, she bought it. In those days, ladies hats were made by milliners. Buckram shapes in many styles were tried on by a patron, and then covered with fabric, trimmed with flowers, ribbons, feathers, or plumes. One year the trend changed and "Panama" hats, felts, leghorns, etc., were available. The department stores found themselves with hundreds of the old shapes and no customers for them. Macy's advertised them at nine cents each. They had previously sold for three and four

104

The passenger manifest for the SS Majestic, arriving in NYC on March 11, 1930, shows Celia Loeb (residing at 8704 Bay Parkway) and Josef (Jozel) ASZ, signed for by Mr. Loeb.

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dollars. Well, Aunt Celia bought a hundred of them, and when she died, thirty years later, they were all in the attic. ****** I belonged to a girls group that met once a week. We used to sew and make all of our own fancy underwear. It was proper to wear a camisole over a bra, and we would buy silk crepe de Chine and fine laces to hand sew these garments. It was not considered decent to have a bust line showing, so camisoles were made shirred and beribboned to hide the natural contours. Bras had to be pulled down tight. No wonder we all developed sagging breasts. All muscles were destroyed. ****** A few weeks before I was to be married I called Papa to tell him it was not necessary for Sam to call for me at the usual time (nine p.m.), as Martin would walk me home. Naturally, we had a lot to talk about, so we walked the six blocks very slowly along Bay Parkway, which was well illuminated. As we turned the corner of our block, Papa and Sam were outside our house, and greeted me with, "Do you want people to think you're a bad girl? What took you so long?" ****** It is now September, and the High Holidays have just passed. memories of sad days. Yom Kippur stirs

Martin gave me my engagement ring on his birthday, January 26, 1922. Actually, it was our ring, as we chipped in all our savings to pay Moe for it. Martin wanted me to have a "miniature", but it would never do for me not to have a diamond. I was not to get a miniature until fifteen years later. Invitations to my engagement party for Sunday, February 12, 1922, were sent, and a notice inserted in the New York Times the previous Sunday morning. Papa died suddenly on February 3rd, and the funeral was to be from our house on the 5th, the day I was supposed to have the engagement reception. Since the invitations were all out, we had to put a notice of cancellation in the New York Times. But, many people did not read it. So, people arrived, all properly dressed for a party, and when entering the house found a funeral Martins & Pearls Engagement Cancellation from the service in progress. Some friends February 5, 1922 NY Times passed out, so it was quite a day. Both Etta and I had death attending our marriages. ******

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Martin and I were married on April 9, 1922, at Moe's house . Etta could not be there as she was expecting to have a baby (Irving) in two weeks. It was a simple ceremony performed by Rabbi Braun, and just wine and sponge cake was served. After the wedding, we left for Atlantic City where Martin had reserved a room at the Dudley Hotel. He was on an assignment by his boss to audit the books of the Columbia Textile Company, whose plant was in Egg Harbor, which was not far from Atlantic City. Having been a virgin, I well remember our honeymoon. It was Easter week and a number of my music pupils and their parents happened to be staying at the "Dudley". They really played tricks on us. They played a trick to make us think there was a mouse in the room. They attached a wooden cigar box to the bedspring, put a wooden spool of thread in the box, and drew the thread under the rug and out the door. When the thread was pulled, the spool would revolve, causing it to sound like the gnawing of a mouse. ****** I just had a glass of lemonade, which brought to mind a humorous incident. A few weeks after we were married, Martin phoned from his office to say he was bringing home a West Point friend, Bill Powers. It was a warm evening, so the two men were chatting in the living room, while I was doing a few last minute dinner preparations. Martin asked me to bring in some drinks. So, I returned to the living room with a pitcher of lemonade. Well, the two fellows burst into laughter. I had no liquor in the house. The following evening, Martin took me shopping. ****** Max Garfinkle, Martin's cousin and father of Edith Wiland (who later lived in Delmar, N.Y.), lived in Brooklyn with his wife, Dora, and two children. Max's father had been a brilliant man in Poland, who served the Czar Nicholas in some advisory capacity. He was a man of great wealth, and had a very large home. Max did not inherit any of his father's capabilities. There was probably no member of the family, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc., from whom he did not "borrow" money. Needless to say, none was ever paid back. When Max and Dora's girls were two and four years old, Dora was taken seriously ill. They had no money to pay for the care of the children while she was hospitalized. The hospital bill was paid by all of the family 106 "chipping" in. Martin and I were married just a few months at the time, and as Sam was not home at the time to occupy the spare bedroom that we kept for him. Pauline, who was Max's aunt, arrived at our apartment one Sunday morning with both children, a suitcase and a bag of clothes, and

105

105

Marriage Certificate notes marriage performed on April 9, 1922, by Rabbi Frederick Braun at 523 W. 187th St, NY County (Manhattan), and witnessed by Moses Adels and Mitchell Loeb. At the time, Martin lived at 2369 86th St. in Brooklyn, while Pearl lived at 2255 82nd St. in Brooklyn. 106 Please dont take Pearls comments regarding Max as a put-down of his personality. His grandchildren remember him as a caring, loving grandparent. Remember, these stories are a recollection of what happened 60 years before Pearl put them to paper, and memories of people in ones past may change with time or get confused with others.

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informed us we were to take care of Max's girls for a few days. Well, the few days turned into a few weeks. Somehow, in spite of Max's perpetual financial condition, the only meats they would eat were lamb chops or chicken. Martin threatened to leave home if the kids stayed. I almost told him what he could do with his family. Pauline told me what a mitzvah I was doing, and I told her it would be a mitzvah for her to take the kids back to her house. Fortunately, Dora got better, and her neighbor promised to help her with her family. All this time, Max sat home in his apartment in peace and quiet! A much younger brother, Felix, survived Max Garfinkle. He is really a half-brother, each from the same father, but a different mother. Felix was in his early twenties when he came to 107 America after World War I. He already had finished high school abroad and spoke English almost without an accent. He stayed with Pauline and Solomon for a short time, and then stayed with us. He borrowed (?) a suitcase, and moved to Detroit, where his cousins, Jones and Jonas, 108 were. He became a CPA, and later lived in Chicago for many years. ****** It wasn't very long after the episode with Max's daughters that Mitchell and Fannie were having a problem. They lived in a distant Brooklyn neighborhood. Flora was about three years old when Fannie decided to go to college to become a doctor. Mitchell's office was in New York City on 34th Street, where he took orders for artwork for subway posters and advertisements for many well-known products. Fannie made arrangements to leave Flora with a neighbor. Pauline paid an unexpected visit to the neighbor and found Flora in a very deplorable condition. She was far from clean, and had developed a sore on her scalp. I had never seen anything like it, but Pauline called it a "parach". What else? She brought Flora to me, and while I gave her a bath, etc., Pauline went to a local store and bought a change of clothes for her. She was a darling child, and so bright, and Martin and I loved having her. It was a short stay, because Fannie had already changed her mind about college, at least for the moment. She tried it again in later years, with the same result. ****** Mitchell and Fannie lived in Sea Gate in 1922, a restricted residential area beyond Brighton Beach (Brooklyn). There really was a gate with an attendant, who would not open the gate until the person whom you were to visit gave him the okay. Mitchell was the only one in the family who had a car at that time. Grandma Pauline told us that a very distinguished old friend, Mr. Sokoloff, was coming from Europe for some sort of meeting in Washington. She wanted to have a very fine dinner party for him, at which he could meet all the family. Because
107 108

Felix was 15 when he arrived. Felix Garfinkle, a.k.a. Philip Garfinkle, lived in Chicago in 1930 as an accountant. Conversations with Philips children, Ronald Garfinkle and Sally Green have confirmed that Felix = Philip. They are continuing to provide more information regarding the Jonas/Jones families, as they are in touch with their descendents.

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Mitchell's house was new and more spacious, it was decided that the party would be held there. Pauline was to make the gefilte fish, I was to bake the cakes, and Fannie was to cook the vegetables and roast the poultry. In order to get to Fannie's in Sea Gate Pauline and I had to take the "West End" train to Coney Island, a trolley car to Brighton Beach, another trolley car to Sea Gate, wait at the gate for the necessary okay, and wait for Mitchell to pick us up at the gate. This was not easy. Can you picture me with two large fancy layer cakes, Pauline with a huge pot of fish, a jar of gravy, two challahs, and a jar of horseradish? The worst was yet to come! Fannie was probably the world's worst housekeeper, and one to who time meant absolutely nothing. Dinner was to be at seven o'clock. Pauline and I arrived at Fannie's at about three o'clock, at which time Fannie had set up her sewing machine in the living room, and was in the process of making a new dress for Flora to wear that night. The large box from the market containing the poultry, etc. was on the kitchen floor, and the dirty dishes from the whole day were in the sink. Since the food had to be kosher, Pauline started with salting and soaking the poultry, while I cleaned up the kitchen, set the table, and made the salad. Of course, a few necessary items had been forgotten on the grocery list, so Mitchell had to drive to get them, as there were no stores in Sea Gate. During all of this commotion, Fannie sewed and finished the dress. The sewing machine was pushed into a closet, and we were cleaning up the last threads on the rug when the phone bell rang to announce the guest at the gate! ****** Gary just stopped by with his "new" old car, a 1967 MG roadster British sports car. It made me think of a time in the summer of 1922. We lived in Bensonhurst, and on a nice Sunday afternoon Mitchell Loeb drove up in his new "Auburn" car. One did not have to pass a test or obtain an operators license to drive a car. He had an instruction booklet open on the steering wheel telling him how to drive the car. Can you believe he drove that way from Sea Gate to our house and back? Good thing there were so few cars on the roads then, not like now! ****** I was a member of the Bensonhurst literary club, and on New Year's Eve of 1922 the club had a great party to which Sam and Martin were also invited. It was a masquerade party, and I dressed Sam in one of my evening gowns. It was knee length, as was the style, with a silver lace bodice and yards and yards of red tulle in the skirt. He had long white cotton stockings, with bumps of cotton where his leg muscles should have been, black ballet slippers crisscrossed laced, and a garland of red poppies on his head. I rented a soubrette costume for Martin, wig and all, and it was quite low cut in front, so his hairy chest was exposed. They were both a riot. Martin could always hold his liquor very well and he became very jovial. Sam was a sad guy after two or three drinks. When we returned to home, Martin proceeded to put Sam to bed. Our apartment was on the ground floor, and our bedroom windows were French windows that Page 61 of 136

opened out onto Bay Parkway. As it was Sunday morning, many people were on their way to the church that was on the next corner. I awoke, startled to see Martin, in his pajamas, sitting astride the windowsill, singing as loud as he could a serenade to me, "You are my song of love". I did not dare leave my bed, which could be seen from the street, where quite an audience was gathered. It took a lot of convincing to get him to stop. ****** At Christmas and Hanukkah time, Pauline would have Chester, who had a car, collect donations of food from many markets. The food was placed in the garage and portioned into large grocery bags, labeled "family of four", or six, or eight. These bags were filled with potatoes, bread, vegetables, rice, and spaghetti. Perishable foods, like eggs, milk, and poultry, were put in at the last minute. All was loaded in a small truck, as well as Chester's car, and Pauline would go along to a low-income neighborhood and distribute the food herself. She was well known for her personal participation in her acts of charity. When a family would arrive from Europe, she would very quickly get donations of enough furniture, etc., to set them up housekeeping. She would make it her business to visit friends and neighbors, only to tell them she was surprised that they were still using that shabby dining room or bedroom set, or pots and pans, or curtains. Soon, she got the above, cleaned and polished everything, and the refugees were delighted. Pauline was Grand President of a woman's division of the orthodox synagogues, and at one time gave a speech at the Waldorf to over a thousand women. Quite a woman. ****** Martin's mother was very religious, and a Jewess in every sense of the word. She kept a strictly kosher house, and rarely missed going to the synagogue on Shabbas. Well, one Friday night it rained very hard, and Solomon, who she called "Schlaymie", decided to wait for her outside of the temple with an umbrella for her protection from the elements. Since it is forbidden in the orthodox belief to carry anything on the Sabbath, she was very embarrassed seeing him, particularly because she walked out with the Rebitzin (the rabbi's wife). Pauline ignored her husband and walked home in the rain. After she told me about it, he added, "but you caught a bad cold, and nothing happened to me." Grandma Pauline was always very busy before Passover. There were two sets of dishes to be changed for two other sets. Also, two sets of silver, glasses, even towels were used. All food that was "chumitz" had to be out of the house, and Passover foods made ready. Well, Solomon was a "nosher", and besides, he did not go along with many of the rules of the faith. So, before the holiday he would hide bags or containers of candy and cakes, cookies, etc. Pauline would hunt for them and usually find them. And when she did he had a good laugh. I often thought he wanted her to find them, just to tease her. He really meant it when he said he did not approve of the dietary laws, because a few hours after she died he went into the kitchen and proceeded to mix up all the dishes and silver, saying, "That's the end of that!"

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I loved and respected them both, very much. One time she got an infection in a finger while cleaning fish. The finger had to be amputated, but she insisted that I stay at her house while she was hospitalized because she knew I would not make her kitchen "traif". Evidently, she did not trust Celia, and certainly not "Schlaymie". To the best of my knowledge, I never betrayed her trust. When she visited us in Albany, I had some glass dishes just for her, new pots and pans, silver, etc., kosher meat and a paper lined shelf in the refrigerator. We never lied to her, but even when she was at our table, we had butter, cream and meat. She knew we had it when she wasn't there, so there was no point in pretending. She respected our beliefs, as we respected hers. We never did anything deliberately to offend her, but we were very upset when one Sunday during the Christmas season she paid us a surprise visit. We had always had a Christmas tree for the children, Judy and David, and we were really speechless when the doorbell rang and on opening the door, there stood Pauline. If she was offended we never knew it, because she remarked that it was a very pretty Hanukkah bush, and there was nothing in our religion that forbade it.

The Loeb Family Candlesticks

She always lit candles on Friday night, and made it a point to tell me that the 109 candleholders had been a gift to her parents when they were married. These were made in England, and are sterling silver. They were to go to David, and remain in the Loeb family. Shortly after she died, Solomon came for a visit and presented the candlesticks to me to keep for David. I gave the candlesticks to Jane and David on August 24, 1977, for their Silver Wedding 110 Anniversary. ******
Pauline and David Garfinkles parents were Jankiel (Jacob) Gorfinkiel and Chana Rywka (Hannah Rebecca) Segalowitz. 110 When Pearl gave the candlesticks to David and Jane, she included with the anniversary card a note about the history of the candlesticks. The note stated that they were originally a gift to Martins great -grandparents over 150 years before. This differs from the above story, which states they were a gift to Martins grandparents (Paulines parents) probably about 1852 (from earlier footnote concerning David Garfinkle attending his parents fifty-fifth wedding anniversary in 1907), making them about 125 years old in 1977. The candlesticks hallmarks indicate that they were manufactured by A. Goldman in Warsaw, Poland, before 1852 (after which they would have had Russian hallmarks), and they are 0.750 fine (12/16) silver.
109

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The television programs this evening are not interesting to me, so I decided to listen to my radio, and I began thinking of our first radio. In 1923, Gimbel's in New York advertised one for $59.95, which came partly assembled. We had very little spare money. But as I was pregnant with Judy, Martin thought it would be nice to have a radio when we would be spending so many evenings at home. He had to put an aerial of sorts on the roof (and nearly fell off the roof). We lived on the first floor of a lovely two family house. A large sunroom was in the front of the house, and the bedrooms all the way in the back. It was almost unheard of for anyone to pick up a California radio station. One night, about two weeks before the baby was to arrive, I had gone to bed, while Martin sat glued to the radio with the earphones on. Suddenly, he shouted for me to hurry, because he had "California". I put on my robe, which of course was completely inadequate to cover my huge abdomen, and dragged myself to hear the wonder-of-wonders. Martin separated the earphones, and gave one to me while we listened at the end of the music to hear the announcer say, "You have just heard --- singing the lovely song 'Sweet California'. This is New York." I was so angry it's a wonder I didn't give birth to Judy on the front porch. I can't help thinking how my mom and dad would have enjoyed our privileges of home entertainment. Papa read every line of the two newspapers he bought every evening; the Evening World and the Herald. Mamma loved music, but we never had a phonograph, or as it was called, a Victrola. I played piano and she sang. We all went to bed early. ****** When Judy was born in the Community Hospital in New York, Pauline was so concerned because I was still kept in bed on the second day, that she asked the nurse how serious my condition was. In those days a woman was kept in bed for ten days to two weeks after giving birth. When Pauline had her babies in Poland, a few hours after the delivery she would go downstairs and start making baby clothes on the sewing machine. This was one manipulated by a foot treadle. Superstition would not allow clothes to be prepared before a baby was born, fearing the child would not survive. Well the superstition has gone, but now a days the doctors are using that method of getting the new mother up and around within a few hours. Blanche Trommer, Freda Lazarus and I had our babies about the same time. We would meet each nice day, pushing our carriages, and often stop at the corner delicatessen to buy hot dogs on rolls with relish. We could get three hot dogs for ten cents. If there were only two of us, we just didn't buy any, as then it would be five cents each. We kept strict account as to whose turn it was to pay the four cents, so it would be even. ****** Dr. Julek Garfinkle, Martin's cousin, was living in Poland when World War II started 112. He was a surgeon. At that time, he had a wife and two daughters. When the Nazis (or was it the
111 112
111

Ellen Judith Loeb (Judy) was born October 18, 1923. Martin and Pearl lived at 1730 Stillwell Ave., Brooklyn. In the chapter My Town, Sierpc (Sheps) by I.M. Sidronihe, from the The Community of Sierpc; Memorial Book (Yizkor), published by JewishGen, Inc. 1959, shows Dr. Yoel (Yulek) Garfinkel in Sierpc, now in Israel, the

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Russians?) took the town where he lived, they promised him safety if he would serve in a hospital for them. No alternative was offered, so he had to accept. As he and his family left their home, his wife and two daughters were shot, and he was sent off to a hospital to serve.113 During a bitter cold winter, Grandpa Solomon Loeb received a letter from him asking if it was possible to send him some pieces of leather to mend his boots, and if some tea could be spared. I can imagine what false stories he had been told about conditions in the United States. Well, we sent packages of tea, coffee, and numerous other foods that would travel well. We also asked him to draw outlines of his feet, so we could send sturdy, warm boots. He did get the food, and he sent us the drawings, on receipt of which we sent boots, sweaters, warm gloves, etc. Julek survived the war, and all the Loebs collected enough money to get him and his new wife to Israel. Things must have been very difficult there, a "new" country, extremely small, poor housing, and all food, utilities, etc., terribly expensive. Since Israel needed surgeons, he was given a two room "home". He wrote to tell us that if he had x-ray equipment, he would be eligible for better accommodations. So, the family got together ten thousand dollars to purchase the necessary xray equipment. A Chicago firm, who had a representative in Israel, ordered the equipment from the U.S.A. When it arrived in Israel, one unit was broken, and since they could not determine where the fault laid in shipping or handling, no one there would pay for a replacement. Since none of the other parts could operate without the broken one, we had to pay an extra twelve hundred dollars for a replacement. With this settled, we thought we were finished with this really expensive project. Julek got larger quarters, and his wife gave birth to a little girl. All seemed well. But, he only received a minimal amount of film or plates for the machinery, so requests for necessary additional plates kept coming. Not only were these expensive, but shipping costs were high, also. We had really gone to the limit in money. We ascertained that the plates were obtainable in England at a lower cost, so we told him to buy them there, as he was already earning money. Soon, he wrote to say that he had to treat patients living at a distance from his office, and that he needed an automobile. That did it! We heard later that he was riding a motorcycle. I am sure that this has changed by now. For a time, he asked for shipments of some special antibiotics, which were not yet sold in Israel. These we did send. I went to Israel in 1978, but did not get to see him, as he lived too far from Haifa or Tel Aviv. However, when Danny Wolk (the Rabbi's son) went to spend a year in Israel, I sent a 114 watch for him and his wife, together with shavers, supplies, etc.
son of the lawyer Eliezer Garfinkel, and that Garfinkel came from Suvlak (Suwalki). Eliezer is Pauline Loebs brother, Josiel Lejzor Gorfinkiel. 113 According to his daughter from his second marriage, Julek (Julian) had a son and a daughter. He was taken by the Russians away from Poland to provide medical support. When he returned from Russia after the war, he couldnt locate his wife, son and daughter, and later found out that the y died in the Shoah. The story told by Pearl matches what happened to Juleks brother, Marek, whose wife and daughters were taken by the Germans and killed in the streets of Warsaw, having been betrayed by neighbors. 114 Rabbi Danny Wolk did visit Israel in the 1970s, but doesnt recall visiting or bringing supplies to Dr. Garfinkle.

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Part 4 - The Loeb Family in Albany

I was in the hospital after Judy was born when Martin told me that he and Sam were going to go into the jewelry business in Albany. Martin was an accountant in 1924, and Sam was a jewelry salesman for my brother Moe (M. Adels Company). Sam was fed up with traveling ten months a year, so he suggested he and Martin go into the retail jewelry business together in Albany. Sam had three thousand dollars, while we had only one thousand. To make it an even partnership we had to come up with two thousand dollars more. But, from whom? None in our family could afford to help us. Certainly not Martin's family. One of my girlfriends, Aletta Ehrlich, told me how rich her father was, so I asked him if he would lend us the two thousand dollars. He said he would if we would give him a "note" for it. We gave him a "note" for it, which we paid when it became due. It was not easy, but we somehow scraped it up in one year. With this done, we were almost all set. We decided to open a store in Albany because Etta and Max had their store in Schenectady, and Harry had his in Troy. I was nursing my baby, so I could not go to Albany to find a place to live. That was Martin's job. He rented a flat in a two-family house at 23 Ten Eyck Ave. Etta and Max arranged for a moving company from Schenectady to pick up our furniture on the return trip of a delivery from Schenectady to New York. We had to go to Etta's for a week, as the people who occupied the flat would not move out until noon on May 1st. The moving van arrived at our house in New York to pick up our furniture at two o'clock in the morning instead of ten o'clock, and insisted that it was impossible for them to wait. All was loaded, and the beautiful gray English perambulator, which Sam had gotten for Judy, was tied on the back of the van, because it had to be dropped off first at Etta's so Judy would have a place to sleep. The rest of the furniture was to be delivered to the flat in Albany the following week. It was delivered in heart-breaking condition. Our living room sofa was broken in half. The Knobe baby grand was dropped while being carried up the front steps. The men just dumped everything, beds, crib, dressers, etc., in the living room and dining room. Trunks, cartons of books, Martin's West Point uniforms, rugs, etc., were put in the basement. There I stood, holding the baby and ready to scream. Sam and Martin were at the store, which was to open the next day. Max Segel came to the rescue, and together we put up the crib and a bed for Sam, Martin and me. The store, Adels-Loeb Jewelers, opened on that Saturday. Sunday it rained, and it rained for days. That part of the city had very old sewers that backed up, flooding the cellar, ruining completely everything in the basement. Not a very happy start! We rented a store in the Kenmore Hotel building at 76 North Pearl Street, bought a second hand safe, and found someone to sell us some fixtures for "extended time" payments. We took on a watchmaker, Jim Bannon (a married man with two children), at thirty dollars a week. Martin and Sam each drew a thirty dollars a week salary. Adels-Loeb was the first credit jewelry store in Albany. Most of our customers paid fifty cents a week. We advertised a lot, and became well established and well known. I had never gone to work before. Besides, I had seven month old Judy to care for. As business improved, I would, on occasion, wheel the big gray perambulator, with baby, bottles, etc., downtown from our apartment on Ten Eyck Avenue, put the bottles in a refrigerator in the hotel kitchen, and help out. I would later go home with the

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baby on the trolley. Martin would wheel the carriage back home. Later on, we hired a young girl for twenty dollars a week. ****** I did not know anyone in Albany. But I kept happy and busy all day caring for my home and little one. The nights were something else. Sam and Martin remained late at the store many nights, planning, adjusting, etc. I often said I would welcome anyone to talk to, but whom? One very warm evening that first summer, I had put Judy to bed, got undressed, with just a nightie and robe on, all the front windows opened wide, opened my grand piano all the way with the big top up, and played and played and played. Almost completely exhausted, more emotionally than physically, I went out onto the open front porch to cool off. Two couples started to leave the front steps where they had been sitting and listening to the music. I asked them not to leave, invited them in, served tea, jelly and crackers (which was all I could scrape up on such short notice), and made the best friends. When Sam and Martin got home, they met the Sperbers and Dissens, with whom we remained good friends until they all passed away. ****** There is an article in tonight's paper showing a picture of the open trolley cars that were run in the summer time. I remember them very well, and I also remember from when I was a little girl, a trolley pulled by two horses that ran cross-town on 23rd Street in New York City. When we first came to Albany in 1924, the trolley cars had overhead wires to which the pole on the top of the car was attached. The Pine Hills trolley ran just to a half block past Manning Boulevard. Then the motorman would switch the pole in an opposite direction, and go back downtown. ****** We are having a long miserable rainy spell, and its much too cold for this early in October. Before long, the pumpkins and Halloween candies will be on display, together with thoughts of Halloween in years gone by. I remember our first Halloween in Albany in 1924. We were told to be sure to drive around downtown to see the "big parade". Beginning about three o'clock in the afternoon, many adults in great costumes walked around downtown Albany, some with their children, and we would have huge bags of apples and candies ready to hand out. It was lots of fun, and everyone was in a holiday mood, no disturbances at all. Sam, Martin, Judy, and I drove down to the Halloween celebration in our new second hand Essex Coach. Sam was driving with Martin in the front seat, while I sat in the back with Judy, just a year old, in my arms. All went well until we were on our way home, driving up Madison Avenue. Although it was very cold out, Sam complained of the heat and insisted on opening the car windows. His problem, we found, was that he had dropped a lit cigarette and the seat was on fire. We stopped in front of a large beautiful brick home on Madison Avenue and Martin rang the doorbell. The lady of the house came to the door and when Martin asked her for a pot or pan of water to put the fire out, she scolded him, saying he was much too old for such a

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silly Halloween trick. Felling like "Topsy" in Uncle Tom's Cabin, I took Judy in my arms, rang the bell again, explained our problem, and with a good laugh, got the water. I remember the day we bought the Essex from a Schenectady car dealer. We did not know how to drive, so a man was sent along to drive us home. Central Avenue was just being built to go as far as Schenectady, and a part just approaching Albany was one way, with a man holding traffic at intervals for cars to proceed East, then West. It was on a Sunday afternoon, and many folks were out for a joy ride. We were at the one way section, the car stopped, and when the signal to proceed was given the Essex died. Needless to say, the horns honked, tempers flared, and all hell broke loose. After quite a while, the driver finally got the car to start. The last time we rode in the Essex, the roof leaked and we had to borrow an umbrella, which we opened over the back seat, so the baby would not get wet from the pouring rain. Folks passing by must have thought we were crazy. Whenever we had to proceed up a hill, Martin would pat the steering wheel and say, "You can do it. Come on, you can do it!" ****** We broke our lease at 23 Ten Eyck Avenue and moved to Winthrop Avenue in 1925. That's when we first met Joe and Sate Wander. Joe's brother, Fred, sold us the insurance on the store. ****** I believe it was in 1926 that I gave birth prematurely to a baby girl. I was critically ill, and remained in a coma for forty-eight hours. The baby died. I never saw her, but Martin said she was perfect, and looked just like Judy. We were only living in Albany about two years, so Martin purchased our plot in Beth Emeth Cemetery, where the baby is buried. I have often thought about the fact that since she was never given a name, we were told a stone should not be placed for her. Anyhow, she is buried next to Martin. ****** In 1928 we lived on Winthrop Avenue. The Grogans lived next door and were great 115 neighbors. We became friends for life. Since we had to heat the apartment with coal, many times our maid would call the store to say the furnace was out, and one of the boys (usually Vincent Grogan) would go over and take care of the heater. Elsie became a close friend, and has always been such. She was a librarian in the law library in the State Education Building, and there met Tom Bolles, a law student from Bellows Falls, Vermont. She was too shy to invite him to her house, so a plan had to be made. His watch needed repairing, so he came to our store. In conversation, I learned that he played bridge, and I invited him to our house for a bridge game. Of course, Elsie was the fourth hand. I served my "famous" chocolate cake, and when Tom complimented me on it, I said that Elsie made it. At this point Martin had a coughing spell!

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The 1930 US Census showed John J. & Elsie E. Grogan living at 62 Winthrop Ave. in Albany. The 1928 Albany City Directory shows Martin Loeb and Sam Adels (and Pearl, too) at 66 Winthrop Ave.

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Anyhow, Tom graduated law school, later bought a diamond for Elsie, and I was maid of honor at the wedding. All their children are now married, and all call me Aunt Pearl. When Elsie's precious mother died, all the children and grandchildren met at my house. Our bond of friendship has always been a treasure. ****** I was pregnant with David when I decided to learn how to drive. Martin took me to a back road around Sand Creek Road, and a one point urged me to pass a car that was in front of us. I did, but I did not realize that the car I was to pass also was traveling. So, I cut in too soon and side-swiped it. When we stopped, we did not know where the other car was, but soon discovered it was okay, but far out in a field. Pop gave up on me and Vincent Grogan taught me to drive. ****** I was just reading an article about China and a very humorous incident came to mind. Shortly after we bought the house at 54 South Pine Avenue in 1929, Martin thought we should have a painting to hang over the fireplace. On one of my shopping trips to New York City I met an old friend in Macy's, to whom I mentioned that fact. She was known to have great talent in art, and offered to help me select a painting. Since our sofa and tables were Chinese Chippendale, she selected what I thought to be a beautiful painted Chinese ancestral portrait. I had this hung in the proper location over the fireplace while Martin and Sam were not at home. As soon as Martin saw it, he bowed Chinese fashion and named it "Hang Lo Nuts". Sam followed with his bow. Every morning before breakfast, both Sam and Martin would dash into the living room, go into the ritual, and make some kind of kooky offering to the portrait. This would be repeated when they arrived home from work and before dinner every night. Needless to say, I was more than upset because I had paid quite a lot of money for the painting. In real desperation and frustration, I wrote to Macy's, saying that it was too large for the space, and they graciously sent me a refund after I returned it. ****** In May of 1929, about two weeks before David was born, Pauline, Solomon, Chester, Flora and Eleanor surprised us with a visit. The weather was extremely warm, and I was in no mood or condition for five houseguests. I believe the main reason for the visit was that Pauline wanted us to give Celia five hundred dollars toward a trip back to Poland. Celia had never ceased to talk about how much better it was there, than here in America. Since Celia had been working and earning a substantial salary, Martin's feelings were that if she wanted to have an extended visit to Poland, she should not expect us to contribute. At any rate, we could ill afford to give anyone money at that time. We had just bought the house on Pine Avenue, were preparing to open our new store at 90 State Street, and a new baby was due. The Loeb brigade went home after a rather unpleasant weekend. Pauline was furious with us, and so did not come Page 69 of 136

up for David's bris. His bris was not a social event, anyhow. The doctor did the circumcision in the operating room and the Rabbi said a prayer in my room. We had a glass of wine and a piece of Ward's sponge cake. After Celia's return from Europe with her husband, Joe, we heard no more of the wonders of Poland. ****** David's birthday was this past week, on June 11th. He was a so very welcome addition to our family. The first male Loeb of his generation to continue the name. Martin was so thrilled that he proceeded to present a wristwatch to the elevator operator, a student nurse and my nurse at Albany Hospital. I could not understand what they had to do with it! ****** How well I remember 1929. What a year! When the National Savings Bank building was near completion, we were able to negotiate a lease for the corner store at a rent we believed we could pay. We hoped that this store would and should have elegant fixtures befitting the new corner and the atmosphere of a fine jewelry store. The opening day was a proud one for us. Many of Albany's prominent politicians and citizens came to wish us well and to admire the dozens of gorgeous flower arrangements sent by friends and business associates. We had added an optical department, with an optometrist to serve it, an extra salesman, and since I now had a nurse to take care of Judy and David, I worked every day selling, helping in the office, checking credits, etc. My pay was fifteen dollars a week. After moving Adels-Loeb Jewelers from 76 North Pearl Street to 90 State Street, we had to have all new fixtures, for which we signed contracts with George Spalt & Sons, a fine reputable firm whose roots were well established in Albany. We needed much more jewelry, watches, etc., to stock the shelves and cases. We had just bought the house at 54 South Pine Ave. in February, on which we paid a three thousand dollars deposit. Mr. Luidhiemer, the builder, took a second mortgage and the bank, the rest. David was born in June, and I had a very serious setback, making it necessary to remain in the hospital for three or four weeks. There was no hospital or medical insurance back then, so the bills were enormous. It seemed impossible to cope with all this. However, the president of the bank where we had our store account, offered us a large unsecured loan to cover our expenses. Although we did not accept the loan, it was comforting to know we could get it if we needed it. Mr. Frank Spalt came to the store and said that his firm was in excellent financial condition, and suggested that we hold off payments on the fixtures, so that we could keep our bills for merchandise up to date. This was a great relief, and when we finally could pay the Spalts, they insisted that we pay no interest on the long overdue bills! ****** Is there such a thing as being too honest? Our optical department did very well. It made quite a lot of profit. But Martin, while going over some bills, discovered that the optometrist was

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charging customers far too much according to the cost of the material and his services. For this reason Martin closed the department. ****** The dignity of the store was maintained. We weathered the 1929 depression years, taking so very little for ourselves, and managed to hold on to our good credit. The prestige of the store was very important to Sam and Martin. No male sales help ever appeared in the store without a jacket and tie. We even, at one time, purchased brown shantung jackets for all the men, even the watchmaker. No one would think of waiting on a customer in shirtsleeves. Perhaps times have changed, but I truly believe that comfort must not always be accepted in place of dignity and self-esteem! ****** In 1928 or 1929, Solomon and Pauline were having problems with money. Celia, who was a milliner, was out of work. Chester was earning less. So, we began sending a check each month to help the Loebs in New York. It was my job to do this, as Martin never concerned himself with any bills outside of the store. This went on for years, until the old folks died, and during the years of the Depression it was not easy to spare that extra money. We had a new store, a new baby (David) and a new house. We ate dried lima beans in more ways than one could believe. Oh well, we survived. But, it was not easy. ****** My sister, Etta, did not get married until she was thirty-two. When Miriam and Irving arrived she became obsessed with her over-protection of them. I remember when Sam and Lou were about to leave for Europe on the SS Statendam. We had a big party in Albany at our house, after which Etta, Sam, and I drove to New York City. The night they were to sail, a really big party was held for us all at the Paramount Hotel. It was a beastly hot night, and at that time, the Paramount was the only hotel in New York with an air-conditioned dining room. Many drinks were served, and everyone had more than a fair share. When we left the hotel and arrived outdoors, it was hilarious to see how many just sat down on the sidewalk and never did make it to Jersey, from where the ship was to sail. However, we made it, and after all the farewells Etta and I returned to the Hotel Taft where we were to spend the night. Of course, we were very tired. It was about two o'clock in the morning, and I went to sleep immediately. Then the fun began. At four o'clock, Etta woke me up to say that we were having a severe thunderstorm and I should close the window and the transom. Then she got hysterical, because she knew that Irving always had his radio antenna somehow attached to his metal bed spring and she was certain he would be electrocuted by the storm's lightning. I told her to call him up and tell him to disconnect whatever it was. "Oh, no! she said, "He must not pick up the phone during a storm!" Nor would she, either. Well, after a few sleepless hours, we finally found out that Schenectady never had a storm at all. ****** Page 71 of 136

The early 1930's brought hard times to many. So many people were out of work. Tillie's youngest brother, Joe Green, and his wife were desperate and could find no way to support themselves. We needed a salesman. So, Martin and Sam decided to give Joe a job. We had them stay at our house for a few weeks until they could find a small apartment. Martin had always been very strict about anyone telling a lie to him. It was an absolutely unforgivable thing to lie. Any time before or since Joe's coming, a new employee was always warned that to tell Martin a lie was cause for instant dismissal. Well, Joe thought he was a privileged character, but one day Martin caught him in a lie. Martin always said if an employee lied, he would steal. Joe was discharged immediately and Tillie, his sister, stopped talking to us. A few years later, Harry came across some jewelry Joe had hidden in his store. The articles bore our stock numbers, which we always marked on our merchandise. Harry returned the jewelry back to us. We never mentioned it to Tillie, although I believe we should have. We didn't talk for many years. ****** At one time during this period, Tillie had to have abdominal surgery. The doctor did not do a satisfactory job. Something went wrong, and her mind became unbelievably muddled. She acted like a gibbering idiot. Harry called in many specialists and all concluded that she should be committed to an institution. Harry was hesitant to do this. So, I told him that in-as-much as his house was situated so far from any neighbor, Tillie's noises would not disturb anyone. He should try to take her home, have nurses, a restraining bed, etc. The only problem was that Florence, their maid, could not cook. So I promised to deliver sufficient cooked food every two days for Harry, Tillie, Florence, and three nurses. In her twisted state of mind, Tillie would not let Harry in the room. She would scream and glare at him. He was really heartbroken. Many times he told me he should institutionalize her. Well, after many months of agony, Tillie awoke one morning, asked the nurse if she was taking care of Harry, and asked for her breakfast to be served in the dining room with her husband. Needless to say, they were hesitant to do so, because she could be almost violent at times. However, with great caution, her wish was granted. She kissed Harry "good morning", never mentioning anything of the past months, and as if nothing ever happened, went on with their lives together. As far as I know, Harry never told her about my small part in her recovery, and I never asked her if she knew. ****** When David was five or six years old, he was angry with me for something and decided to run away from home. I got a suitcase for him from the attic and told him that he could use it to pack whatever he thought he should take with him. As he was not permitted to cross a street, he proceeded to walk around the block a few times. Since it was evening and beginning to get dark, and the suitcase was getting heavy, he returned home and said he decided to forgive me. When he opened the suitcase, he had in it a pair of pajamas and his favorite rock. Page 72 of 136

****** I had a three stone diamond ring that had been my mother's. Every night, before I retired, I would put my engagement and wedding rings, and Mamma's ring on the dresser. Each morning, before I left for the store, I would put my rings on. On Sundays the rings remained on the dresser all day, unless I was going out with Dad. Well, one Monday morning, when I was ready to put my rings on, the three diamond one was missing. All the family joined in the search, except David, who was only six or seven years old. He had gone outdoors to play with his friends. We had a maid at that time, and an out-oftown guest (an old girl friend of mine). Everyone was terribly upset, and I was furious because I was certain that, as always, I had put all three rings on the dresser! A few days later the ring reappeared on my dresser, as mysteriously as it had disappeared! After exclamations of joy at the breakfast table, David told us that he had taken the ring and tried to sell it to one of his friends for twenty-five cents. But no one had the twenty-five cents to buy it, so he brought it back! A long lecture followed. ****** Judy and David had many spats. When David was about ten years old, he used to aggravate her and tease her about her boyfriends. He once answered a phone call for her and said the wrong thing. Judy, who was upstairs, ran down the stairs so fast to catch him that she went right through the front glass door. Fortunately, she was not hurt. It was in the middle of winter, on a Saturday night, and as no repair service was available until Monday, Martin and I slept downstairs with only heavy blankets and a canvas over the front door. Some fun! Judy and her friends would occasionally have a sort of party downstairs in our basement, which we had fixed up as a recreation room. The old "Victorola" provided the recorded music for dancing. Since David was too young for this group, he would torment them by throwing marbles down the laundry chute, which would bounce out of the receiving box onto the floor. I always enjoyed this particular group of Judy's friends, including Mike Mann, who was known for eating bananas under the kitchen sink, and Marvin Rosenstein, who was in love with Judy. I don't remember if I ever gave Judy the recording Marvin sent to her when he was over-seas during World War II, telling her to be sure to wait for him. When it arrived, she had already 116 been married to Jerry! ****** Martin had a habit of neglecting to put gas in the car. We had two cars, which Sam, Martin and I drove, and it was very exasperating to start out any place and find it might not make it to a gas station. Sam told Martin that someday Martin would be stranded on a road, out of gas, and he would get no sympathy from Sam. Well, believe it or not, Martin had gone to our store in Glens Falls one day, and sure enough, on the way back the Dodge just stopped on the road, out
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Judy married Jerome (Jerry) Wander on June 25, 1945.

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of gas. Sam had been in Ticonderoga on business for Rothbards, and on the way back recognized our other car stopped on the road. After a great big "I told you so", Sam drove to the next gas station, bought a can, filled it with a gallon of gas, and went back to "rescue" Martin. ****** Charlie Ribakoff started out as an errand boy for my brother, Moe. His rise to fortune was fantastic, ending in a company that supplied many large hotels around the country with all their linens. He was a frequent visitor to Albany, and Etta, Max, and the kids would join us all at our house (where else?) for supper. Ettas and Maxs son Irving was about three years old when Charlie, watching him walk, remarked that Irv walked flat footed like Charlie Chaplin. He said it would be wise to have the boy wear corrective shoes. Etta was indignant, and replied, "To me, he's perfect." As a result, Irving had flat feet all his life. Miriam went to dancing school in Schenectady. She was really quite good, but Etta had her discontinue the lessons because some children in the class came from low-income families, and were not fit to associate with Miriam! ****** Some years ago, Etta and I would alternate having the families together for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. Miriam and Irving were quite spoiled, and even as young adults they wanted and always got what they wanted. One Thanksgiving, Etta wanted us at her house, because she wanted to invite a Rabbi and Mrs. Brown to join the family for dinner. Miriam was a student at Ithaca College, and she had brought a classmate home for the holiday. When the beautiful huge brown turkey was placed in front of Max to carve, he asked the Rabbi which piece he would like. He said, "A drum stick." Then Max asked "Brownie", and she also said, "A drum stick." At this point, Miriam and Irving left the table and both ran upstairs. Etta was distraught, because she had worked so very hard to prepare such a delicious meal. Mim and Irv refused to return to the table, and the two guests did not know what-in-the-hell was wrong. How were they to know those two drum sticks had always gone to Mim and Irv? The meal was served in almost utter silence. ****** Ben Segel's father was Max's oldest brother. Ben's mother died when he was an infant, and his grandmother, Max's mother, raised him. The old lady Segel was very religious, and very rich. As far as the family knew, Ben's father never married again, but after he died, it was discovered that his did indeed leave a wife (a gentile) and children. This was a shock to the entire family, who sought to do something about it. Etta told me that some settlement was made with the widow for her to be quiet about the marriage. I have always wondered about the outcome of the while dirty mess. It was quite common for the people in the generation preceding mine to be unable to read or write at all. Somehow they seemed to manage, often quite well in spite of that handicap. It was not because of stupidity, just that education, especially for females, was not deemed necessary. I was never faced with that problem, as both my parents had been educated, not college, but certainly what today would be probably high school. Papa was well versed in Page 74 of 136

Hebrew, which he could read and write. He was quite an authority on the Talmud, and many of the older Rabbis would consult him on his interpretation of certain passages. Martin's folks were also very well educated. Etta's mother-in-law, Dora Segel, never could read or write, so when Martin's mother came to visit us, she would bring along Yiddish papers and books, and read to Mrs. Segel. Mrs. Segel's husband (Max Segel's father) died when he was about thirty-seven. He had appendicitis, which was then called "inflammation of the intestines". He had surgery, but never survived the operation. He was a shoemaker, so when he died Dora had to support her four sons and herself. So, she kept on repairing shoes. Little-by-little she saved, bought the building, and subsequently bought many valuable pieces of business properties on State Street in Schenectady. All her legal papers were signed with an "X", which the banks recognized, and gladly. It must be quite a task for an illiterate person to market in one of today's supermarkets. One certainly has to be able to read labels on cans, bottles, pa ckages, etc. Its a good thing there are some items that have pictures on them. One simply did not do any impulse buying. In the "old days" we had a grocery list, and there was always a clerk behind a long counter in the store. One by one, you told him what you needed, he brought each item from a ceiling-high row of shelves and put it on the counter in front of you. When your order was completed, he added the cost, you paid, and either carried your order home, or a delivery boy delivered it to your house for a few pennies. I remember that when we lived in an apartment house there was a dumb waiter that went from the delivery entrance of the building to all the floors. This was a sort of wooden open closet with two shelves, that could be pulled up or down by ropes. Groceries, meats, laundry, and all were delivered this way. It was also a means of sending garbage and papers to the basement. At holiday time the delivery boys would send their hat up with the groceries, including a note that said, "Thanksgiving is here, turkeys are fat, please put a coin in the order boy's hat." ****** Yesterday, April 20, 1982, was Lucille's 65th birthday! I tried to call her, but she was not at home. I remember the first time I saw her, when she was a few days old. Lou and Nettie had been married eight years when she was born. Nettie did not want to go to a hospital, so she delivered at home. They lived in an apartment in New York. My mother and I went to see Lucille by subway. She had a beautiful head of black curly hair. I remember when Lucille was in her teens. During the summer, she went to a camp in the Green Mountains, somewhere beyond Lake Bomoseen. It was a very expensive exclusive camp, and Lou suggested that we send Judy there. Well, four hundred and fifty dollars was a lot of money for us, so Lou said he would treat Judy for one month of camp. Judy did not want to go. But Martin and I thought it would be good for her, so all arrangements were made. The train left out of New York, because most of the campers lived there. Judy had to board the train at Troy. When it was time for her to go, she cried and looked at me as if I was sending her away to a dreadful fate. After the first week, I had visions of Judy being very unhappy, so Martin and I Page 75 of 136

drove up to the camp. How wrong we were! She was having a great time, and had no time for us at all! ****** Martin often neglected to have money in his pocket. I remember one day he started out for New York City, and called me from Union Station and asked that I take some money to the ticket agent (who he knew) who gave him a ticket. When he got to New York, he called me from Moe's office and asked that I send a check to Moe for fifty dollars to repay money he borrowed from Moe because he left home with only change in his pocket. Whenever we went out to a theater or dinner, either alone or with friends, I always made certain to have money to cover any expenses. What a guy! ****** When Grandma Pauline and Grandpa Sol Loeb were to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary, plans were made to have a dinner for them in New York City at the Broadway Central Hotel, which catered for Kosher parties. Martin and I, of course, assumed that all plans were carried out. One hundred people were to have been invited for the dinner, and many more to a reception. Martin, Judy and I arrived a few days early and found that Pauline canceled the hotel bit because she wanted everyone invited to the dinner. We were furious. Celia and Chester spent forty-eight hours phoning many relatives and friends, while I spent hours marketing and then preparing hors d'oeuvres, cakes, salads, platters, coffee, tea, liquor, chairs, paper goods, etc. We hired three Jewish women to help, got a flower arrangement of fifty red carnations, and a good time was had by all, except me. I had to walk around in bedroom slippers to ease my poor tired and swollen feet, and went to bed for almost a week when I got home. ****** Before the Second World War, Lou went to Switzerland once or twice a year. He bought into a watch factory in La Chaux-de-Fonds. He would go abroad by ship to Brest, then to Paris, and on to Switzerland. On one of his voyages he met an old friend who asked Lou to meet him in Paris, as he had dear lady friends, one a doctor and one a dentist, with whom he visited and had dinner with whenever he got to Paris. Lou went with him, and in the course of conversation one of the ladies asked Lou what business he was in. On telling her, she said she had a cousin in the jewelry business in Albany, named Martin Loeb, but probably Albany was very far from where Lou's business was. When Lou told her that his sister was married to Martin, she did not believe him. So when Martin was told of the incident, he wrote to the ladies. Shortly after the 117 Nazis occupied Paris, we heard that the Germans killed them. What a waste. ******
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Although this story is probably impossible to confirm, a connection may have been found. Martin had a number of Judenstein relatives, first cousins of Pauline and David Garfinkle (se e earlier footnote about Maurice Goodmans family relationship). Records indicate that a number of them lived in Paris as early as about 1882. Research indicates that the lady claiming to be a cousin of Martin Loeb was most likely Martins second cousin Sarah Judeinstein, who died at Auschwitz.

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I believe it was in 1941, while Judy was at Cornell that Martin heard about Dr. Julius Lempert. He was an expert in the fenestration of the ear and was supposedly able to restore one's hearing. Martin was very sensitive about his hearing loss, so we made an appointment to go to New York City to consult with the doctor. He assured Martin that he could restore his hearing, so we made an appointment for the surgery. When we arrived, the admission nurse asked me for a check for two thousand dollars before Martin even entered the hospital. I had to call Sam to take the money out of the store's account to put into my checking account, so I could give her the check. I stayed at Lou's hotel that night, and Martin was operated on the following morning. The operation took seven and a half hours, and I nearly went out of my mind until I knew he had survived. In addition it cost us much pain and money for doctors, nurses, hotel bills, and trips every week with Martin to New York for treatment. We always stayed overnight at a hotel within walking distance of the hospital because Martin got terribly dizzy when in a cab. The hospital was on East 74th Street, in a neighborhood where only the most expensive hotels are located. I remember staying at the Volney, where I would frequently meet one of the Rothschilds in the elevator. The result of the surgery was not good and no hearing was restored. Instead, Martin's equilibrium was disturbed so much that could not turn his head without almost falling. So he had to go back to the hospital for a reversal operation. Dr. Lempert wanted to operate on the other ear. But Martin did not want this, for which decision I was so glad. ****** Martin's hearing aid! Martin's hearing was getting to be a serious problem. He was too proud to ask anyone to repeat a statement, or to ask anyone to talk louder. So as a result, he often misunderstood what was said. One day he retreated into a shell, ate his meals without a word, and made the children and me very unhappy and uncomfortable. I knew something was troubling him, but I really did not know what it was. So many times I asked him to tell me what was bothering him, but no answer was forthcoming. I finally decided to go to Detroit to visit the Rosenthals (Morey was his classmate at West Point) and told Martin I would stay there until he decided to talk. While I was in Detroit, Martin's cousin, Lawrence Jones died suddenly. I remained there for the funeral, after which Martin wanted me to come home. I told him to meet me at the train station in Albany. We agreed to go out to dinner, at which time he promised to tell me what he was angry about. I assured him that if this matter was not cleared, I would definitely not go home. Apparently, because of his hearing problem, he had misunderstood something I said, and became mad at me. He knew I would never lie to him, so all was straightened out. I knew he needed a hearing aid, but his pride would not accept the fact. As soon as he became used to one, he realized how much he had missed. ******
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Lawrence Jones died in Detroit on October 25, 1936.

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During the 1940's, Martin and I would travel each year to Chicago for the jewelry show. I loved Chicago and always had a great time, except for the time a burglar broke into our room on the twelfth floor of the Hotel Sherman. I had objected to taking that room because of the fire escape outside our window. Martin overruled my objections by saying that no one was going to bother us on the twelfth floor. He was wrong. We had been out to the French Casino as my brother Lou's guests, and retired to bed at about one-thirty in the morning. We were sound asleep when I awoke to the noise of the window screen rattling. I turned on a bed light clipped to the headboard of our bed, which awoke Martin. Seeing a man backing into the room (because a large radiator was in front of the window), Martin jumped out of bed. The intruder went back out the window, and Martin went after him up the fire escape ladder in his pajamas, while I yelled with all my might for Martin to come back. The robber was not caught, as no doubt he had another open window ready for his escape. Minutes later, the house detective, as well as people in rooms near ours, all came to our room. Imagine my embarrassment when, after some time, I realized I was walking around in my nightgown! Luckily I had one on, and a pretty one at that. We were later told that the thief had been entering rooms, and used a form of chloroform on the folks who were asleep, so he could rob at leisure. We were very fortunate. ****** In the early years of World War II, Martin's father received a letter from a cousin who had been educated in England and returned to Poland. The letter said that his daughter, Saba, who was living in Florence, Italy, with her husband and infant son, would soon be in great difficulties, as it was so evident Italy would soon be involved with Hitler's war. Being Jews would be a problem there. He asked that we try to get the family out. It was easier for adults to travel, but the infant caused a greater problem. At this time my brother, Lou, was in Switzerland, and he agreed to meet Saba at the Italian/Swiss border, take the child and bring him to America to be united with his parents when they could get here. Understandingly, the young mother could not bring herself to do this, so we had to take another approach. Morris Troper, a close friend of mine, was now head of the "Joint Distribution Committee", which was situated in Paris.119 I cabled him to call me, and he promised to help get the family out of Italy. Incidentally the J.D.C. was a gigantic organization to help Jews in precarious situations all over the continent. This group did a fantastic job. All the Loebs chipped in money and the family got on the very last ship to leave Italy. It was bound for England, but "any port in a storm" was acceptable. The British Government had pharmacies in many countries in Europe, and Saba had been employed as a pharmacist at one in Florence. A lady English doctor had been in charge of the pharmacy, left Italy before Saba, taking some of
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Interesting coincidental listing in the 1925 New York City Directory for Morris C. Troper (Loeb & Troper) at 303 5th Ave.

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Saba's possessions with her for safe keeping. When Saba, her son and her husband got to England the doctor gave them shelter. Saba's husband was an attorney, but since the laws of the two countries were so very different, his studies were of no use. About 1957, Saba and the boy, 120 then about 14, came to America for a visit, and arrived in Albany for a short stay. I hope they are doing well, but I have not heard from them for some time. ****** Until Judy was out of college, I only got fifteen dollars a week salary at the store. This was put aside for her college tuition. Only when there were five Saturdays in a month, I got to keep the extra fifteen dollars to save toward a new dress. How I watched the calendar! ****** When the V.A. Hospital in Albany was completed, I signed up as a volunteer to entertain there two nights a week. We had a piano on wheels, which was rolled to different wards. I played a request program, and it was a joy to hear the patients say, "Pearl, baby, how about Jazz?" or ask for Beethoven, Boogie, or special favorite selections. I shall always remember Don Hall. He was about 21 when I first saw him in the hospital in a wheel chair. He had lost both legs in the war and was not making any kind of adjustment to his great problem. I got permission for Martin to help me take him out of the hospital for a day. We took him to Thatcher Park, wheel chair and all, had a picnic lunch, then back to our house for music and small talk. Martin carried him piggy back into the house, insisted he sit in an easy chair, and again rolled him into the dining room where he sat on a regular chair and enjoyed a steak dinner. We had to return him to the hospital by nine o'clock at night. When we brought him back, we also brought many cakes, cookies, etc., for the rest of the fellows (all amputees) in his ward. ****** Sam retired from the jewelry business in 1944 or 1945. He got involved with a woman, Peggy King, who made life for him very difficult. Since he was an equal partner in the house and Adels-Loeb, we (Pop and I) had to pay him off. This really crippled our business for a long time. Sam insisted he be paid for his share of the present value of the house, and we really had a rough time.

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Ancestry.com research has identified a Saba Zys (46) and son Lucius (14) visiting the US from London, England, in 1952. Their destination in US was 8708 Bay Parkway, Brooklyn, which was Solomon Loebs address when he died in 1945. Probable information, including connecting addresses show Saba (Mrs. S. F. Zys) up to 1963, and Lucius (L. F. Zys) up to 1984 in London area. Sabas son, Lucius, who now goes by the name Andreas Zys, has provided a clearer story about Sabas family history. Rather than edit Pearls memories, Andreas stor y of what actually happened is included in the Research Notes.

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Part 5 - Martin's Classmates and Reunions

Martin's roommate at West Point was a fine person, Virgil Kerr. The girl he married after graduation was my roommate when I went to their graduation. Her name was Rosalina Espianosa. She was teaching Spanish in a high school in New York City. Virgil was taken prisoner on Bataan, and was on a ship being taken back to Japan when the United States Navy sank the ship, and all on board were lost. Rosalina has always been very bitter, and has never ceased to bemoan his fate. I still hear from her every Christmas. Her son, also an army man, was wounded, I believe, in Korea. Another classmate of Martin's, Henry Zymanski, was very fluent in the Polish language. He also looked very Polish. So, the United States government used him as a spy and liaison officer during World War II. He spent a lot of time living disguised as a Polish citizen. Fortunately, he came through the war okay. He died of a heart attack shortly after we were all together at the last reunion, which I believe was in 1959. Al Gruenther became a general and was head of N.A.T.O., succeeding Eisenhower. He purchased all his sterling silverware from us at that time. General Mike Brannon became Chief Judge Advocate with his own office and flag in the Pentagon. He entertained Martin and me, and we had wonderful times together. He and Marge visited me here in Albany after Martin died. General Al Wedemeyer spent an evening with us when he was in Albany to lecture for a farm or agriculture group at the DeWitt Clinton Hotel. I remember being at West Point for a reunion shortly after Al returned from a special mission. The U.S. government had sent him to China for a survey of the political situations. This was before the Nationalist Chinese separated to Taiwan, and the Communists took over. Al Wedemeyer delivered a very important "white paper" to the White House. This was shelved, and nothing done or mentioned about it. It was a warning of things to come, and was never heeded. General Pee Wee Collier was a little guy with the most piercing eyes. At one reunion, he and three others of Martin's classmates asked us to join them for dinner at the officer's club. I was the only wife present. Collier went in ahead of the rest of us, told the headwaiter that his mother was joining him for dinner. It was a joke on me, but they gave me a chair with a cushion and super service. General Tony McAuliffe, the man who said, "Nuts!" to the Germans in World War II, was quite a guy and had a great wife, Helen. At each reunion after our twentieth, a car and driver was assigned to each alumnus' wife. One year, we were staying at the Lady Cliff Academy at Highland Falls, while the men were billeted at West Point. There was a luncheon at Cullum Hall for us ladies, after which our individually assigned cars were to pick each of us up to take us back to Lady Cliff to dress for the big dinner-dance to be held that evening. When I emerged with Helen McAuliffe the street was jammed with cars, people, etc. Our cars were Heaven-knows-where. Helen took my arm, and we approached a beautiful car with chauffeur in livery. Helen and I started to get in the car when the driver informed us that this was "The General's Car", to which Helen replied that she was the General's Wife. After all, neither the chauffeur nor Helen said, "Which General?"

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Alexia Raaen and I shared a room at Ladycliff. The nuns were so very nice to us. They were not supposed to give us breakfast. But when I awoke the morning after arrival, I found a note on my dresser, having been placed there by one of the sisters. It seems that someone had spread the word that I played piano. The note said that if I would kindly play for the sisters in their concert hall on their concert grand before leaving for West Point, Alexia and I would be their guest for breakfast. How could I refuse? When we entered the hall, all the nuns were sitting in a semicircle around the piano. It was such a rewarding experience. So were the coffee and hot buns. I remember another reunion, when we women were to stay at a boys' school, I think it was the New York Military Academy, while the men were at West Point. We were not advised to bring our own towels, and as the pupils had all gone home for the summer, there were no supplies for us. The showers were about twenty or twenty-five feet from the nearest table on which one could put a robe, so the picture of many women running around wet and naked was quite something. At another reunion, we all, husbands and wives, all had quarters at the Bear Mountain Inn, which was some miles below West Point, and was arrived at by driving down the dangerous Storm King Highway. There was a cocktail party for wives at classmate Ben Sheet's palatial home at Highland Falls. I was very impressed. The house was completely hidden from the road. Inside there was a beautiful giant sized buffet, from which a few butlers served drinks and hors d'oeuvres. I never enjoyed more than one drink, and since I was driving our car for three other gals, especially along Storm King Highway after dark, I was not about to drink a second one. I was amazed at the quantity of alcohol some of the wives could imbibe and never show it. While we were at this party, the men were having one at the Bear Mountain Inn. When we arrived there to join them for dinner and dancing, there were supposed to be boys to park the cars on the grounds. Well, it had rained hard and was still raining, so we had to walk in the mud, long gowns, silver slippers and all. Some fun! When we found our guys, they were happy beyond words, completely plastered, and feeling no pain. After a sort of dinner at an ungodly hour, we decided to call it a night. When we found our room, right next to Dick Coursey (another classmate) and his wife, the fun just began. There were bed bugs in the beds, and some of the guys started shooting at them. The hotel was glad when that night was over. The next night a classmate's wife, Bobbie Hutchins, and I started playing piano together. A crowd of our group gathered round, and they sang and we played to all hours. The management had complaints from other guests. So, when our guys refused to have us stop playing, the hotel moved the piano out and put in a large truck. Our guys soon took it out of the truck, and we played and sang until four-thirty in the morning. At one reunion, we women were given quarters in the dormitories used for visiting athletic teams over Washington Hall. These were a series of large rooms, each one adjoining to the next with open doorways. These rooms all had double-deck bunk beds, which we, as older women, found rather impossible when a climb to the upper deck was necessary. Dalby's wife, who spoke like Tallulah Bankhead, decided this was not for her. So, after finding she had to walk through four great rooms in order to go to the bathroom late at night, she decided that she would continue down the many flights of stairs and out of the building, and go for a walk. Page 81 of 136

Clothed in her nightgown, fancy robe and slippers, she was soon picked up by the M.P.s and returned to our building. Her husband wanted to kill her.

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Part 6 - More of the Loeb Family in Albany

After I die who will remember that in 1941 I wrote the entire script for the pageant celebrating 100th anniversary of Congregation Beth Emeth? It was a long arduous task. After I completed it, three other people got credit for helping me write it, and even though it was not true, a book was printed naming all four. As soon as I saw the book, I threatened to prevent the staging of the pageant, and even threatened to sue Beth Emeth. But Pop would not let me follow through, and the pageant went on. It's all water over the dam, but I still feel the hurt. I always have felt that Bernard Bamberger was at the bottom of that mess, seeking to glorify some of his "buddies". When Bernard Bamberger was the Rabbi at Beth Emeth, and a very pompous one at that, he would on rare occasions stop in at our store. One day while Sam was out having lunch, the Rabbi came in to talk to Martin. When Sam returned he walked right past the Rabbi without a greeting. Martin called Sam back, thinking he did not see Bernard, and said to Sam, "Do you know who this is?" Martin asked this thinking that Sam did know who it was. Sam replied, "Of course! He's the man who works in the hardware store on South Pearl Street." Bernard left very quickly in a real huff and didn't speak to Sam for a long time. ****** Joe and Sadie Wander, Judy's in-laws, had arranged a really super party at Shaker Ridge Country Club for their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Of course, we were all invited. Martin suggested that we send a very large silver serving waiter, which we did. But on the morning of the event Martin's love of having fun popped up. For quite a few years Joe had been a pupil of the Arthur Murray Dance School. It was rumored that he was a life member. On the morning of the party Martin sent the following telegram to be delivered, not phoned: "To Mr. Joseph Wander: We wish to congratulate you, our most outstanding pupil of the dance, and Mrs. Wander on your anniversary." It was signed, "Arthur Murray School of the Dance". Of course, it was meant to be a joke, but what followed was quite unexpected. As we approached the receiving line, Joe took Martin aside, took the telegram from his inside pocket and told him that of all the gifts received this meant the most to him. Of course we could not spoil his joy by telling him the truth. Many times that evening we saw him showing the telegram to friends. This went on for a long time, and Martin never could bring himself to confess his prank to Joe. ****** Martin's West Point napkin ring is really a treasure. When Martin graduated it was customary for the cadets to turn in their napkin rings, which would be melted down and made into a "loving cup" to be presented to the first son born to a classmate. Marriage was forbidden before graduation. But the first son born to a classmate came much too soon after graduation, so all the class got to keep their napkin rings! Martin was so proud of being instrumental in bringing the West Point Choir to Albany. The choir was the guest of Congregation Beth Emeth for a weekend. They were given a dinner and dance, and each cadet was lent a car. Martin gave a steak dinner for the cadets at Keeler's Page 83 of 136

Restaurant, and all the cadets visited us in uniform at the store. There was quite a stir at State and Pearl Streets to see this many cadets at once. Martin (after popping a nitro in his mouth) gave the prayer at the altar before the concert and I was so happy for him. ****** We had a wonderful group, consisting of eight couples, which played cards every Saturday night for over thirty years. The men played pinochle and the women played bridge or canasta. Each week we put some money aside for a fun trip later in the year. I shall never forget one of the trips, a weekend at Grossinger's. Jack Finklestein's favorite food was pickled herring, which he ordered three meals-a-day, every day. We were seated four couples at a table in the dining room. On the day we were to return home, Martin called to Jack at the other table and asked him how did he like the big jar of herring left in each room complements of Grossinger's. Jack asked, "What jar?" Of course, Sid Segall picked up Martin's joke, and said he too got one. All the other men joined in, claiming they got a jar of herring, too. Since the eight men had decided they would each leave their own tips for the Matre D, waiters, etc., May Finklestein assumed that Jack had reduced his tips. Jack, of course, denied this and called the headwaiter to the table. He complained that he did not receive his jar of herring like the other couples did. Of course, the waiter had no idea what he was talking about, but catching the wink from Martin, went along with the joke. He said he was terribly sorry, but that section of the kitchen was closed, and he could not retrieve a jar for Jack. When the men went to pay their bills at the desk, Jack complained that he did not get his jar. But the clerk had been forewarned, and went along with the gag. When our cars were brought to the front door and our luggage loaded, each of our men carried out a pair of shoes, wrapped in newspapers and made to look like the content was indeed a jar of herring. These "jars" were carefully stood up in the back seat corners of the cars. Poor Jack never did know the truth. ****** Martin enjoyed seafood and Chinese food, so therefore I present the following two stories: One Sunday, he suddenly decided that we should drive down to Sheepshead Bay for a shore dinner at Tappin's, a famous seafood restaurant. We were misdirected down on Long Island, ran into a very thick fog, and almost got stuck in the sand at the end of a dead end road. We got to Tappin's just after they stopped admitting new guests. Pop told the doorman a sad story about the wild ride from Albany. So, we were admitted and seated. Dinner guests were always welcomed at our house. One Saturday, Martin decided we should have some friends for a late Sunday night Chinese supper. We (Martin and I) left for 25 121 Tyler Street, Boston , very early Sunday morning, bought a fortune's worth of Chinese food, brought it back to Albany, and served eight people at seven o'clock that evening.

Tyler Street is in the Chinatown part of Boston. Even now there are six Chinese restaurants on Tyler Street, including (what a coincidence) Pearl Villa Chinese Restaurant at 25 Tyler Street.
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****** Martin started painting still life in 1960, and decided to do a table with a checkered cloth and a bottle of Chianti on the table. Not having any wine, he filled an empty bottle with borscht. When he finished, it looked like a painting of borscht in a bottle. So, I stopped at a small grocery shop in an Italian neighborhood to buy a bottle of Chianti for him. The proprietor asked me what kind, and I responded that it did not matter as my husband was going to paint it. I'm certain the shopkeeper thought I was out of my mind. ****** Christmas at our house was very special, and Mr. Rea used to come every year for Christmas dinner. There was always a fire in the fireplace, and Martin and Mr. Rea would each sit in a chair close to the warmth; Mr. Rea with his bottle of Bushkills and Martin with some rye. Judy and David loved to hear them talk (between drinks) about the "old days", and I am not certain that either one of the men remembered what we had for dinner. Mr. Rea went to Ireland to visit his mother. She was almost 100 years old. He brought back for me a beautiful Irish crochet collar that she had made, as well as a black large scarf, the kind worn by many upper-class Irish ladies. Since most homes there did not have central heating, these scarves were almost a necessity. After Mr. Rea retired from our Glens Falls store, he moved to Long Island to live with his sister, a Mrs. Tanner. He was a simple man, very thrifty, with no desire to accumulate a wealth of possessions. Most of his belongings were carried with him in his small inexpensive used car. While working for Martin for many years, he bought a U.S. Bond every week. These he cashed in later years when he needed the money. He was a very welcome guest at our house and was no trouble at all. He would call from some stop on the Thruway and say, "Am I welcome for a few days?" He had many friends in and near Albany, who he liked to visit twice a year. We would give him a house key so he could come and go at will. He never wasted a crumb of food, and at the evening meal would always have a piece of bread to soak up any gravy or small particles of 122 food. When I had the bus accident , he came to stay with Martin. Mr. Rea never spent money on entertainment, but he attended any free lectures, museums, and exhibits available to the public. In the summer time, he very often would drive over some back-country road, stopping to talk with a farmer. He came by bus to Martin's funeral, and he died about a month later. ******
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In the summer of 1961, Pearl was hit by a bus and seriously injured while crossing State Street in Albany. Both of her legs were badly broken, and she spent five months in the hospital, suffering through reconstruction surgery and skin grafts. She was still confined to a wheelchair when Martin died in January 1962. Although told by doctors that she would never walk again, she proved them wrong, first walking with a walker, then crutches, a cane, and finally after a few years without assistance. She made very few references to the accident when writing her story.

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Yesterday, January 14, 1978, was sixteen years since Martin died. Such a long time to be without him! But, have I really been without him? I don't think so. Somehow, I have always felt his presence so near me, especially in the house. I feel so well protected and cared for. Could it be my imagination, or wishful thinking? Perhaps, but whatever it is, I am grateful for it. Today I watched the special memorial services in the U.S. Capitol Rotunda for former Vice President Hubert Humphrey. He was a fine man, and I visualized Martin being so honored. A tear and a prayer! Humphrey wrote his own plans for his funeral. I believe it's a splendid idea for many reasons. ****** For many years in the 1950's we went to Chicago for the jewelry convention, which was held at the Hotel Sherman. Pearl and Martin about 1950 We traveled via the "20th Century Limited". Moe and Lou would leave from New York, and Etta, Harry, Martin and I would board the train in Albany. It was all fun, until Harry had one of his severe attacks on the train. Outside of Kalamazoo, the train hit an auto. Five people were killed. We were delayed many hours, until the engine could be removed and replaced. When we arrived in Chicago, Harry had to be hospitalized. ****** Martin had two classmates living in Chicago; Morey Rosenthal and Henry Zymanski. Henry was married to a very nice gal, who would never think of drinking anything that contained alcohol. She was a very religious fanatic Catholic, and almost everything was considered evil. My brother Lou had a cocktail party from four to seven o'clock every evening to entertain buyers who were there from all over the United States. He asked me to see that plenty of hors d'oeuvres and liquor was on hand to serve to his guests. Unlike today, when a phone call to the hotel desk could get almost anything one could want, I went to a large market called "Stop & Shop", bought dozens of eggs, anchovies, cheeses, etc. The market hard-boiled the eggs for me, and I then processed them into deviled eggs, etc. Lou ordered the liquor and two waiters were hired to serve the guests. Well we prepared a large bowl of fruit punch for the ladies, but Dorothy Rosenthal, when no one was looking, poured two bottles of gin into the punch. Of course Henry's wife enjoyed a Page 86 of 136

few cups of punch, and when she was feeling no pain she was really far from the prude she had professed to be. Martin and I also went to New York many times for the jewelry conventions that were held at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. Here too, Moe would entertain buyers by taking them out to dinner. Well, one evening he asked us to join him and his guests, among who was a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Nusbaum, from Ohio. Mr. Nusbaum was a notoriously cheap man when it came to spending money. We all went to "Columbo's", noted for excellent food. Here, many famous people of stage and screen would sign their name and sometimes place a picture on the wall. We were sixteen people at the table, and Moe had ordered special steaks, etc., for all. On the way back to the hotel Mr. Nusbaum remarked how delicious the steaks were. Well, Martin, knowing Mr. Nusbaum's cheapness, said, "Why shouldn't they be so choice, Moe paid three dollars apiece for the dinners." Of course, this was just a joke as the dinners at that time (1954) were at least ten dollars each. However, Mr. Nusbaum believed Martin. So the next night he decided to take a few of his friends to Columbo's for dinner. They were seated at the same table and the same dinners were ordered. When Mr. Nusbaum was given the check, he insisted on talking to Mrs. Columbo, the owner, and could not understand why his bill was so different from Moe's! ****** The new temple, "B'nai Sholom", is nearly completed. I am glad it is not a luxurious edifice, built to impress people. Its just a small adequate place to worship. I still belong to Beth Emeth, as well as the new temple, in spite of my belief that religion is no longer what it should be. It has all become big business. Members must have to pay ever-increasing dues to pay the enormous salaries to Rabbis and staff, buildings and ground maintenance, printing of bulletins, etc. One can certainly say prayers at home, read many books on our history and the Bible, dispense with sermons that are often boring, and save a lot of money. Most children hate to go to "Sunday School", and if some of our lovely traditions were observed in the home, they would find more meaning to their Jewish heritage. So why do I belong to two temples? My ties are too strong to Beth Emeth, and David has worked so very hard for the new temple that, as his mother, I must and want to be affiliated. I just remembered. Many years ago when Beth Emeth was rolling in money, they decided to double all dues of single members. This, of course, meant Sam. Since he only went to temple twice a year, he resented the raise. Beth Emeth insisted he could afford it because he belonged to a country club. After much discussion he resigned from the temple. I think he was right. ******
Some former members of Congregation Beth Emeth founded congregation Bnai Sholom in 1978. The new Bnai Sholom temple (synagogue) was built several years later on Whitehall Street in Alban y.
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Martin would often forget his wallet. A new restaurant and lunchroom opened on North Pearl Street and of course he went there for lunch. I soon received a call for help from Martin, "Please bring money!" It so happened there was not a person in the place who knew him. So, he was very embarrassed to have to sit there with a last cup of coffee for much too long. He thought I did this on purpose to teach him a lesson, but I really did not, as I just could not leave our store. ****** Martin enjoyed having a formal dinner at home for some Army folks, such as General Charlie Stevenson and Maiv, Colonel Burt and Edith, and Colonel Phillips and Arlene. It was a lot of work preparing all the gourmet foods, getting the proper wines, etc. But seeing how much he was pleased and proud made everything so worthwhile. Martin would never sit at the dining room table without a jacket on. He was very uncomfortable during the hot summer weather, but still wore the jacket. It was not until a year before he died that I had to really insist that he had proved his point, and made him remove his jacket. Sometimes that West Point training caused trouble and heartache. On one of the Jewish holidays, all the children and grandchildren were to come to our house for dinner. Needless to say, I spent endless days in preparing all the foods. Well, when Judy and Jerry arrived, Jerry was in shirtsleeves. Because Martin made no secret of his displeasure, Judy and Jerry left. It was no simple matter for me to control my feelings. ****** Grandma Pauline Loeb was a brilliant, adorable, well-educated woman, who spoke many languages, and was elected to become Grand President of a national Jewish society. But Pauline had one shortcoming. She could not bake a decent edible cake. She would insist on baking a "honey cake" in a large roasting pan, and always bring one with her when she came to Albany for a visit. It was not easy for us to control our laughter when we saw the large oblong package she carried. We all had to invent excuses to avoid eating the cake. It was like cement. She would always tell us exactly how many eggs were in it and how long she had to beat them by hand. ******

Pearl Loeb in 1959

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Chester was a Communist. I don't know and could never understand why he was a Communist. He really was a good guy, bright, generous, but definitely a Communist. Yet, he earned a good salary as a typesetter for a newspaper, and later bought older apartment houses in New York that had large apartments. With a partner, he remodeled these into smaller apartments (three or four rooms). The outcome, I was told, was excellent. ****** Martin and I were often invited to the Phaffs' house on Lake George. Moe Phaff owned a few fine boats. So one summer he went up to the lake early in the season to take his newest craft for a spin. Moe prided himself on his skills in navigation, and he really was good. But he made the mistake of telling Martin that he put a small scratch on the boat when it touched a small log. Well Martin's friend, Ray De Paul, was an important man on the local newspaper. So, at Martin's request, and for just one single paper, he printed a half page article on how Moe Phaff had damaged his new boat through poor management. Of course with this in hand, Martin called Moe about the "accident". Moe dashed over to our store, saw the article, had a fit, and went out and bought a few copies, which of course, had no such page. He never could figure that one out! ****** Today, May 21, 1980, would have been Moe's ninety-sixth birthday. I was just thinking about the plans Etta, Sam and I made for his seventieth birthday in 1954. No one in our family had ever attained that age, so we arranged for a dinner at the Waldorf Astoria in his honor. All the guests were Moe's friends and family, Etta's family and my family. It really was a delightful evening, and long remembered. ****** Gosh! Here I am past eighty years old. Last November (1979), Judy and David had a dinner party for me and all of my dear ones. How fortunate I am to have such devoted children (Judy and Jerry, and David and Jane), and such treasured grandchildren. Now I have a new granddaughter, Leslie, Gary's wife. I almost forgot about the dinner Sam gave for me on my sixtieth birthday. Can it really be twenty years ago? Joe Kulik had a new restaurant downtown at the time, and he catered the dinner. It was superb. ****** I don't remember if I wrote about the founding of Shaker Ridge Country Club. Colonie Country Club was quite a "closed deal" for any prospective member whose ancestors were not of German origin. Joe Wander wanted to join, but was refused. Because of this, his good friend, Joe Fields, who was a member of Colonie Country Club, also resigned and got a group of men together to form Shaker Ridge Country Club. My brothers, Sam and Harry, Martin, and Max

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Although not mentioned by Pearl, Mitchell Loeb was also very extreme in his political views, supporting the Yiddish-left and labor movements, writing to Socialist supporters, and creating political artwork, cartoons and posters.

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Segel (Etta's husband) joined this group, contributed to the purchase of the land, and therefore were charter members of the club. Discrimination between our own people seems preposterous, but it does exist. I recall that when I first came to Albany and joined Temple Beth Emeth, there was an invisible separation of the same sort, and the Temple was governed by a few of the older families of "German" Jews. Times have changed! ****** It's August 1980 and David just picked me up to drive me out to the cemetery. I don't go as often as I used to, or would like to, because I don't feel as confident driving too far these days. I somehow feel very much at peace with the thought that, perhaps before too long, I will also be at rest there close to Martin and contented. I am a little disturbed by the fact that Judy and David do not go to the cemetery occasionally, and that the grandchildren never ask to go. I am guilty too, for not going to my parents', sister's and brothers' graves, but my excuse is that they are too far away. Perhaps it is all just as well. It is better to remember folks while living. ****** I just read in the paper that one of Billy Baumeister's children was just married! When Judy was about nine years old she saw him hit or push David, who was about three-and-a-half years old. Those were the days when we had no dishwasher; just a large, round dishpan with a handle on each side. Even though Judy and David had many "fights", she was protective of her brother. So she dashed into the house, grabbed the dishpan, and after catching Billy, proceeded to clobber him with it. Later that day, Billy's mother came to our house to complain about Judy's behavior. She was very angry with Judy and with me. Judy admitted to the act, protesting that Billy had harmed her brother. I ultimately convinced Mrs. Baumeister that we should not become enemies because of a childish act, and that since we would probably be neighbors for many years, our friendship was more important. An hour later, Judy and Billy were playing together, and we parents remained good friends until Mrs. Baumeisters untimely passing. ****** Well its February again (1982), and here I am at home. I really should be downtown at the store. But, the weather is really so bad that I have to admit that at the age of eighty-two I should not drive the car when the streets are covered with snow, ice and sleeting rain. However, it is not easy to accept the restrictions the years impose. Ordinarily I would look forward to an extra day at home, but today being a Monday, I have already been home for two days. ******

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I am so saddened by the problem with my hand. It is getting worse, day-by-day, so that I no longer care to even try to play piano. My fine Steinway is just an ornament now. It is impossible for me to use two of the fingers, except for very simple tasks. Even picking up a glass is not possible, and forgetting the injury, I drop things. It is so frustrating. I should never have allowed the surgery. Too late now! I am still a very fortunate old lady. My children and grandchildren are so wonderful to me. Judy calls me every day, and even though she is very involved with Jerry's business, her work for the retarded, her children and Jerry's family, we have delightful hours together. Our trips to Europe, St. Thomas, the Catskills, etc., were always such joys. David is David. Of course I see him almost every day and his devotion and consideration of me is sometimes almost embarrassing. I try to be sure he is not over attentive to me and attentive enough to Jane. I am so happy that Judy and Jerry, and David and Jane have been married for so many years. May they continue to be so. Jane is a kind, very good woman. She has always been very thoughtful of me, and has always taken her place in the community in a quiet, dignified way. Our temperaments have been very different, but I believe we have narrowed the differences over the years. I respect and love her. ****** So often I think of things and people of long ago, and then my mind swings back to "now". It is much easier to remember those things that happened long ago, than what came to pass yesterday. ****** It is a Saturday, the store (Adels-Loeb) is closed and I am at home. There is nothing in particular that I have to do, or want to do. I don't need anything from the market. I don't need anything for the house or myself. Theres no shopping to do. I don't feel like calling any friends, or going out in this cold windy day. Im just a lazy old lady. Judy and Jerry are at Lake George attending a friend's birthday party. David and Jane went to New York City for the weekend, and took Marta along to stay with Marianne. Why am I concerned that there is no one to check up on me? Things could have happened since yesterday, but nothing did happen. This sort of reasoning, or unreasoning, is what influences my decision to try to move into an apartment. I am getting uneasy being alone. ****** Today has been a very cold and very windy one. March 27, 1982! How I long for the warmer weather. I find myself staying indoors whenever possible, and in fact I look forward
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About 1981 Pearl had minor surgery on her right hand to alleviate joint problems. Unfortunately this surgery was not successful and the middle two fingers lost much mobility.

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each day just to going to bed, primarily because of the comfort of my electric blanket. Unfortunately, my good intention of reading for a few hours meets a sad end as I find the warm comfort has made me go to sleep much too early. So, I awake at two or three o'clock in the morning, light on, glasses on, book in hand, the evening a total loss. I promise myself that when summer comes, I will not go to bed before midnight! ****** I am really hoping to go into an apartment in either the B'nai B'rith or Ohav Sholom Homes. Do I want to? Yes and no. Of course, I know that I cannot maintain my house as I would like to, and that it is not sensible for me to stay here; all the problems with heat, snow, lawns, repairs, cleaning... too much for my 82 years. Then I think of living in two small rooms. How much I will miss all the things that have been with me so many years. Things that Martin and I have enjoyed collecting and using together. Somehow I don't feel too upset about parting with my piano. But my crystal, silver and china... No more people in for dinner! I have seen and met some of the people in those buildings. Like so many old people, I don't see myself as old as they are, most of them just sitting around doing nothing. Of course I am probably older than many of them. But I really don't feel "old". However, I will make myself contented, whatever the move, and adjust the best way I can, at least. I am spending less time at the store now. It is difficult for me to accept and relate to new systems, and I know that David finds my suggestions and opinions irritating at times. This is only natural, so I hope I can only be a sort of help, at times, when he goes on vacations. As long as I can, I will help. It would have been nice if a member of his family had been interested in Adels-Loeb. Perhaps David will retire or seek other fields. ****** Well, April 7, 1982 starts the Passover holiday. In spite of the date, we had a real blizzard yesterday in Albany; sixteen inches of snow, freezing temperatures, extreme winds, all of which set a record never reached before. Today is very cold, 20 degrees, with howling winds that continue to blow snow into drifts, causing so many accidents. I remained home both days (also a record). ****** Sam retired from the business and left Adels-Loeb in 1944. His retirement really crippled us financially. He got his monetary share of the business, and since he also owned half of the investment in the house, we were really broke. Martin was so very happy to have David 126 join the staff at the store. He was disappointed because David did not finish college, but he let David have his way in many decisions. Martin's health was far from good. So, he was gradually letting David take over, especially when I had that encounter in 1961 with the bus at State &

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David started working full time at Adels-Loeb in 1949, after spending two years at Syracuse University taking Business Administration, or as he called it, Jewish Engineering.

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Pearl Streets, causing my lengthy stay at the hospital. Martin died in January 1962, and so many things changed. Adels-Loeb's association with the Michael's jewelry chain was good for us. We learned a great deal from them about merchandising, stock control, etc. After a number of years, David felt that they were too conservative in their taste of merchandise. There were so many new things available to us that they did not approve of. But as an affiliate of their group, we were restricted in buying. David did not want them to control us, so we severed our affiliation. Was this good or bad? I don't know. With the old arrangement with them, we owed money to few firms. Now, free from their restraints, we bought from many. It was very tempting to buy different makes of watches, rings, diamonds, giftware, etc. Subsequently, in paying bills, the cash had to be split in too many ways, which was much more difficult to control. Trying to keep abreast of the times, David tried to make many changes in our purchasing methods. We discontinued the stocking of sterling flatware, making it available to the customers only on special order. We had always had dozens of patterns on hand. But, when the prices of six-piece sterling settings rose to around three hundred dollars, they would not sell. The coming of stainless steel flatware practically stopped the sale of silver plated flatware, because the stainless was at an affordable price. Our shelves formerly were well stocked with silver hollowware, both sterling and plated. Those prices became so high. A sterling silver Paul Revere bowl, which originally sold for eighty dollars, went as high as twenty-eight hundred! Eliminating some of these items left a void, that later was filled with numerous giftware. David tried to maintain the store's image. He purchased elegant crystal, china, brass, and figurines, hoping to cater to the many whims of the public. Fine silver numbered plates for "collectors", gold coins and bars for customer investments. Our figures for the final years were good, but the profit was not there. ****** Last week was the second one after David decided we would close the store on Saturdays year-round. We had been closing weekends during the summer months. How times have changed! I wonder what Martin would have thought about all the changes. When we first opened a store in Albany, we all worked from nine o'clock in the morning to six in the evening, six day a week. On Thursdays we worked from nine to nine. Beginning with the day after Thanksgiving, we were open for business every day until Christmas from nine in the morning to nine at night. It wasn't easy, but we were young. The changes began when the "help" would only work five days a week. So, we had to divide the days off. This made us short one employee every day. Then we decided it was no longer profitable to be open on Thursday nights. Downtown Albany was like a phantom city at night. It was no longer desirable to shop downtown, since the department and larger stores had either closed or moved to the shopping centers. The news media continually blasted about crimes downtown, etc. So because of security, we no longer remained open on Thursday nights.

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Later, we found it advisable to have store hours from nine-thirty in the morning to five o'clock in the afternoon, in as much as the great majority of our customers were in occupations in downtown buildings, such as lawyers, judges, secretaries, State and telephone company employees, etc. We did most of our business between noon and two in the afternoon (lunch hours), and noted that after offices started closing at five o'clock or earlier, the exodus from downtown was almost complete. The whole picture has changed with the times. A few years ago, after one of the store windows was broken and merchandise stolen, the insurance company insisted that all windows and the front door have shatterproof glass. This was a very expensive project, as the original frames were not made to take this thicker glass. In Martin's time we never had to have a burglar alarm system. In the past few years, we have had to upgrade this. The monthly cost is unbelievably high. Insurance rates have risen and risen. Now, the National Savings Bank building has been sold and the rent for the store has already gone up twenty-eight percent. Can we weather all this? I wonder. It is a great burden for David. So much is going out, and not enough is coming in. ****** It is February 16, 1983, and it has been almost a year since I last wrote in this "book". I just was not in the mood, and too tired in the evenings to do anything but turn on the TV, listen to the news and fall asleep in a chair. Somehow it's not great fun being eighty-three! It is now over two weeks since our store, Adels-Loeb Jewelers, has gone out of business. I am surprised that so far I do not feel sad, sorry, or greatly disturbed. Yesterday, I decided to drive downtown, because the day was mild and the streets not slippery, and I had a lot of special things to attend to. I walked past the store, and saw the sign in the window that Pyramid Jewelers would open there soon. Our big Adels-Loeb sign is still up on the building, and our fixtures are still in the store. Pyramid has purchased the fixtures, safe, and so forth. Somehow, in the end, money for extensive advertising was just not there. There was a time when our Adels-Loeb name was well known. It was sad for me, when I found it necessary to leave our name for a return call, to be asked to repeat it, and spell it! I truly believe we were wrong in failing to keep our name before the public, especially in newspapers. Our many large ads for the final sell-out surely were proof that advertising pays. Now it is all in the past. Somehow, I feel no regrets. Nothing is forever. I shall enjoy my retirement and be grateful. ****** So many separations are happing so fast. Perhaps it is better that way; not too much time to really realize that so much is changing. I am selling my Steinway grand piano to Dr. Ray Elliott. The truck should be here this afternoon to pick it up. This will be the first time in my life to be without a piano. How will I feel? I don't really know. Somehow, I wish I did not have to be home when it is taken out. I feel like I am attending a funeral of a treasured friend, a parting of the ways.

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****** It is gone, wrapped up in thick pads, with legs and pedals off to get it out the door. A tear was shed of course, not for the piano, but for me. I can't play anymore, and the irony of it is that one of the doctors, who fouled up the surgery on my hand, now has my Steinway "grand". It's not fair. ****** What has happened to me? I know I am eighty-three. Yet when I am out I find myself resentful of the many extra attentions that are given to me. Do I really look so old? I should be grateful for the people who consider my welfare, taking my arm, insisting on walking across a street with me, and calling to see if I am okay! I really am grateful. But at the same time, the fact that I really need help comes back with a bang. Foolish pride! I will be moving into a residence at the B'nai B'rith Apartments in about a month. It will be a tremendous change for me. I am determined to adjust, and really look forward to being around people. Friends living there have gone all-out to express their good wishes, and I feel sure that I have made the right decision. ****** Somehow, this has turned out to be a diary. I did not intend it to be. But, I write as thoughts come to me. ****** Jerry has just left the house. A lady from Picotte Real Estate went all over it, and no doubt gave Jerry a resale price possibility. I really don't want to know how much. It is a question of whether Judy and Jerry will move in here, or sell the house. ****** It is five months ago, today, October 2, 1983, that I moved into my rooms here in the B'nai B'rith Apartments. I am well settled and very pleased with everything. Jane was a great help to me in choosing carpets, curtains, and even doing a real decorating job for my bedroom. I am certain she spent many hours sewing drapes, covers, etc. I am very grateful for all her help. Judy had a tremendous job cleaning out the house and disposing of so many things that I left undone. Both girls were really indispensable. I have made many new friends and met old friends here. So, I have not found a moment to be bored. I do participate in almost all activities here and enjoy the bus trips. ****** Its June 9, 1987, just two days before David's fifty-eighth birthday! I have not written a thing in this "book" for a very long time. As I look back over the so many years, I never found Page 95 of 136

time to do the things that I thought I wanted to do. I wonder what I really wanted to do. Does that make sense? In my younger years, thirteen to twenty-two years old, did I really ever have fun? First, as always, there were piano lessons, practicing many hours a day after school. I never really liked school, but I always managed to get good grades. By the time I was finished practicing for the day, it was almost time for supper. I never got to socialize much with school friends, and only got to go to a movie on rare occasions with my mother and sister. Money was always the big problem. I started giving piano lessons when I was thirteen or fourteen. The money earned helped to pay for my piano lessons. When I was to play for a musical or concert, getting a new dress was a family crisis. When I was sixteen I started paying the three years of installments on my Knobe piano. At eighteen years old, my precious mother died. She was only fifty-three years old. I was left with much responsibility, not fun, teaching, keeping house for my father and Sam, and sharing expenses. Martin and I were married when I was twenty-two. Sam lived with us and helped pay the rent. I was still teaching piano. Still there was no time, or very little time for fun. There always was a money problem. Now I am old, eighty-seven-and-a-half, and all has changed. I have so much time for me. I have enough money for all my wants, comparatively good health for my years, some old friends, and some new. What am I doing for fun now? Don't laugh! I play cards a few times a week (a real waste of time). I play Bingo (a stupid game). I spend a few hours at a time just sitting in a "gossip" group. I go to the market and buy much too much food, which I am obliged to eat. So now, at this minute, I look back, way back, and realize that LIFE, all Living is the most fun. Just going through all the ups and downs of life is a wonderful game that we play. But we don't appreciate it until the third act is almost over. I am just realizing how very good my life has been. Ive had wonderful, devoted parents; a normal go od family life; four brothers and a sister; a husband, who was a treasure; a devoted daughter and son; six grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. Quite a record! Add this all up, and who can say that I had no fun. It was all wonderful. More to come? Who knows? I will go on, one day at a time, hoping that I have brought some joy to my family and friends, though my music, contributions, or just being me. ****** When I was run over by a bus twenty-six years ago, and was hospitalized for almost five months because of the serious injuries, at first my life was not a surety. And then it was believed that I might not be able to walk again. I guess I was more determined than I knew I could be. Page 96 of 136

So, I fooled the doctors. Just to live and be a burden to my family would have been totally unacceptable to me. So now I am past my eighty-eighth birthday! How come I have lived longer than anyone has in my family? There must be a reason. But I don't believe I will ever know what it is.

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Epilogue
The last several years of Pearl's wonderful life were spent in Daughters of Sarah Nursing home in Albany, constantly being attended to and visited by her remaining family. Sadly, she had out lived her son-in-law, Jerry, who departed in 1987, and her daughter, Judy, who passed away in 1989, and missed them terribly during the last years of her life. However, she remained a binding force in the Loeb family to the very end. One to respect, seek council from, love and cherish. Pearl left us peacefully on December 10, 1991, just past her ninety-second birthday. She will always remain in our hearts and souls as "Grandma Pearl".

Postscript
If you have comments, corrections or wish to correspond with Gary, please e-mail to garyadels@verizon.net or contact him at 26 Violet Lane, West Grove, PA 19390-9531. Additionally, if you wish to receive revisions and updates as they become available, please send a request to Gary.

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Research Notes Revised October 2013

The family stories that Pearl told resulted in quite a lot of open questions about the people and family relationships in them. Many of them have gone unanswered until recent Internet search capabilities and on-line genealogy research Web sites, particularly Ancestry.com and JewishGen.org, have made available a wealth of information. Every time I reread her stories I have more questions, and I research for answers so that others may better understand the background behind Pearls stories. The detective work is fun and enlightening. Ive found many lost relatives, contacting many of their descendants and sharing stories. The basic facts of what Ive found have been included in the footnotes throughout the text, but there is much more detail behind the scenes. These notes serve to give the reader an idea as to how I found out about a particular person or relationship in Pearls stories, and supply a sort of side-story regarding the details of those findings. Im still finding more information, and some of the relationships are not fully evolved. With that in mind, Ive noted when there is more to find, and dated the point of my progress.

Saba
Pearl told a very interesting story about Saba, the daughter of one of Martins cousins. The story told of her familys troubles, on the verge of World War II, getting out of Fascist Italy to England. Unfortunately, she mentions no other family names, just the first name, Saba. Pearl told of contacting a close friend at the J.D.C., sending money to help the family, and the family leaving from Italy to settle in England. At the end of her story she mentioned that Saba and her 14 year old son visited the United States about 1957. I searched Ancestry.com for any possible J.D.C. records that might connect to the story, but found none. On a lark I searched the immigration records in Ancestry.com for the first name Saba only, arriving between 1950 and 1960. Looking through each listing I found an entry for Saba Zys visiting the US from England on March 31, 1952, with her 14 year old son, Lucius. Was this the Saba that grandma was telling about? The actual immigration sheet for the arrival showed that the US destination for Saba and Lucius Zys was 8708 Bay Parkway, Brooklyn. 8708 Bay Parkway was Solomon Loebs address before he died! Solomons daughter, Celia, lived at 8708 Bay Parkway with her husband Joseph Ash during the 1950s, and I suspect, but havent confirmed, that Chester Loeb and his wife were residing there also when Saba and Lucius Zys visited. Ancestry.com also had the U.K. immigration record for Saba and Lucius Zys return to England on April 24, 1952, showing her home address at 58 Saudrock Rd., London S.E.13. Ancestry.com also shows England telephone directory listings for S. Zys at the same address during the same period, and other S. Zys and L. Zys listings in later years up to 1984. I would expect that Saba is no longer living, and Ancestry.com has a listing in their England & Wales Death Index for July, August and September 1977 showing the death in Dartford of Saba ZYS, Page 99 of 136

born 14 Aug 1905. I have received a copy of her death certificate noting that she died on August 23, 1977. Lucius was born about 1938, and might still be alive (as of 2009). After extensive searches for people with the Zys surname in England, I found an e-mail address for a couple named Andreas and Susannah Zys, and contacted them. Susannah e-mailed me back in March 2010 to confirm that I found the right Zys family, and that Andreas is Sabas son, Lucius, although he has since changed his first name. Lucius was an Anglicized version of his original name Lucio Fiorenzo Zys, who was born in Florence, Italy in 1938 to Henryk (Henry) Zys and his wife, Saba ne Freundlich. Susannah send me several photos from the visit of Saba and Lucius to New York, including a photo of them with Chester Loeb. Saba had gone to university in Florence because of the numerus clausus in Poland against Jews, and Henry was Italian correspondent for a Warsaw newspaper and also an official in the Polish Consulate in Florence. Saba was born in Tomaszow, Poland, and Henry came from Lodz. Sabas father, Izaac Freundlich was born in 1875 in Sierpc127, Poland, the same home town as grandpa Martin Loeb (Lubaszka) and his siblings.

Saba and Lucius Zys with Chester Loeb in 1952

The next issue is to find out how Saba or Henry is related to the Loebs. Pearl recounted that Solomon Loeb had a cousin, whose daughter, Saba, and her husband were trying to get out of Italy prior to the German occupation. That would mean that Saba Freundlich, not Henry Zys, is related to the Loebs. Andreas Zys has confirmed that the family relationship is through the Freundlich family. Ill have to search for a potential Freundlich connection, while waiting to see if they have more information. Some of the details in Pearl's account of Sabas origin and experiences in Italy and England are not quite correct. Here is the story from Andreas about Saba and her family, edited into the third person for clarity: Saba's father, Izaac Freundlich, had been educated in Poland. He had graduated in both law and medicine, and was simultaneously a judge and a surgeon. After the edict barring Jews from exercising their professions, he was exempted (unique in Poland at that time) and remained a judge (possibly of the High Court) and a senior consultant surgeon. He admitted to speaking 11 languages, but Saba said that it was more like 17. He only
Pronounced sherpts. Sierpc is called Sheps in Yiddish.

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admitted to knowing a language if he felt sufficiently conversant with that country's literature, history, geography, customs and dialects. Saba finished school to find that, thanks to the 'numerus clausus' against Jews (not more than 10%), together with being female, she could not get admission to any university in Poland. She decided, with a friend, to go to Italy where she had been told that foreigners were regarded as a higher breed than mere Italians, and where someone's religion was of no interest. They enrolled for Pharmacy at l'Universit di Firenze. The Head of Florence University's Faculty of Pharmacy, and President of the Italian Pharmaceutical Association, was a Professor Mancini. When Saba qualified she went immediately to Barberino di Mugello, a village near Florence to manage a pharmacy and a small drug manufacturing plant owned by Professor Mancini. She lived with the Mancini's and was treated as their third daughter. Sabas heart was broken by, of all things, her father's decision to come to Florence to see her. (She was the only daughter with, Andreas believes, five brothers). It had been arranged that the day after her father's arrival in Florence they would meet with Professor Mancini on the steps of Il Duomo. They met, exchanged a few words, whereupon Professor Mancini abruptly left and was not available for the rest of her fathers stay. After her father had returned to Poland, the distraught Saba went to see Professor Mancini to find out what had happened. Professor Mancini told Saba that he couldn't understand, after having taken her in as a daughter, how or why she should lie to him and hide things from him. He said that it was obvious after listening to her father for a moment that he had lived for some time in Tuscany; not only did he speak Italian like a native, but with a decided Florentine accent. After Saba had explained what kind of polyglot her father was, and had convinced Mancini that this had been the first time her father had ever travelled outside Poland, Mancini was mollified, but the clock couldn't be reversed. When Professor Mancini's daughters went off to university, Saba moved in with Doctor Poli, the medic of Barberino, and his family where, once again, she became as if the third daughter. A few years later Saba married Enrico (Henryk) Zys, moved back to Florence, set up a home, and had her son Lucio (Lucius/Andreas). In Florence Saba became pharmacist-in-charge of the pharmacy owned by the Church, in Piazza del Duomo, the cathedral square. Outside hours she did voluntary work at an English mission on Fiesole. As fascism developed, Enrico and Saba started receiving warnings that they should leave Italy, warnings that soon became threats. Enrico responded by saying that he was not prepared to budge while they had a young baby. He was told by the authorities that if he didn't leave he was likely to find one day that his wife and child had 'disappeared'. Enrico became known as the only man in Florence to disobey the notice Qui si saluta alla romana, which was displayed in all public places instructing all to greet others by using the Roman Salute. Enrico always proffered his hand, but in those days no-one shook it in public. It is assumed he enjoyed a certain amount of protection thanks to being a fairly prominent figure in Florentine society. He was a member of the Diplomatic Corps as an attach at the Polish Consulate, and Italian correspondent for a Warsaw newspaper. Page 101 of 136

The English lady in charge of the mission told Saba that she had contacted a relative (sister/cousin?) in England to see if a way could be found for the Zys family to get refuge in England. The answer was that it was possible with character testimonials and payment of 50 a head. The contact in England, Miss Florence (sic!) Bruce was a District Nurse and penniless. But she had approached a friend, Hope Dodds, who with her two sisters, Faith and Charity (This is not made this up!) owned and ran the 'Little Theatre' in Gateshead.128 Hope put up the money. Enrico and Sabas intentions were that England would be a stepping stone en route to the USA, but that was not to be. When the time arrived to leave Italy, Enrico and Saba were greeted at the station by a small crowd headed by the Mayor of Florence. He made a short speech saying, It is a sad day for Italy when people like the Zyses are forced to leave. At Ventimiglia the train was stopped and all passengers questioned and searched. Anti-fascist literature in a variety of languages was discovered in my Enrico's briefcase. He was dragged off the train and told that a firing squad was being called for. Enrico warned the Captain that he would face terrible consequences, that the papers proved what a loyal party member my father was, and that the documents were for him to translate in order to give warnings about enemies of the State. Enrico was returned to the train with an apology and a salute. The morning after the Zys familys arrival in England, Enrico, who had no money for a newspaper, really didn't need to buy one. The headline was enough: Warsaw bombed. It was September 4th, 1939. That train had been the last one out of Italy. A search of the Yad Vashem Internet site on April 23, 2010, identified a testimony entered for Sabas father, Izaac Freundlich, and mother, Nekha, as follows: Dr. Yitzkhak Froindlikh was born in Tomaszow Mazowieckie. He was a linguist and married to Nekha. Prior to WWII he lived in Poland. During the war he was in Poland. Dr. Froindlikh perished in Poland at the age of 65. Nekha Froindlikh was born in Poland. She was a housewife and married to Yitzkhak. Prior to WWII she lived in Poland. During the war she was in Poland. Nekha perished in Poland at the age of 63. This information is based on a Page of Testimony submitted by her grandson. Additional information included with the testimonies note the following facts: The testimonies were submitted on March 24, 1999, by Izaacs grandson, Yaakov Amit, who lives in Israel. Izaac and his wife, Nekha, had four children Photographs of Izaac Freundlich (Yitzkhak Froindlikh) and Nekha.
128

The Little Theatre in Gateshead was founded in 1938 by Ruth, Sylvia and Hope Dodds.

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I have made initial contact with Izaac Freundlichs grandson, Yaakov Amit, in Israel. Yaakov doesnt speak English very well, but remembered Saba (!) . His mother had been corresponding with Sabas husband, Henry, many years ago, but lost contact. He also remembered that Saba had a son named after Florence, Italy, which matches Lucio Fiorenzo Zys, now Andreas Zys. I need to expand the correspondence with Yaakov to try to identify Izaacs parents surnames. Susannah Zys sent me a copy of Sabas birth record showing her birth date and the names of her parents. Her mothers name was Nacha Rafalowicz.

Martin Loebs Arrival in U.S.

The Loeb family had changed their name from Lubaszka around the time of their arrivals in the United States through Ellis Island. Pearl noted that the Loebs arrived at different times; Solomon coming to the US several times and gaining his citizenship, Mitchell arriving next, then Martin (both before World War 1), and then Solomon, Pauline, Celia and Chester arriving together after World War 1. Internet searches of EllisIsland.org and Ancestry.com helped me identify the arrivals of all except Martin. Mitchell Loeb (Mechel Lubaschka) arrived in the US on November 16, 1900, at the age of 11, and resided with his uncle, David Garfinkle. Chester Loeb (Ladok Lubaschka) arrived in the US on July 23, 1920, at the age of 26 to reside with his brother, Mitchell. Solomon (Salomon) Loeb, already a citizen, returned to the US on September 25, 1920, at the age of 60. Solomon became a US Citizen in 1906, so he must have arrived at least several years earlier. His 1908 passport application says he resided in the US uninterrupted between 1898 and 1908. The closest arrival record is for a Schlome Lubaszka, arriving in the US on March 16, 1899. His wife, Pauline (Pessa Lubaska), age 53, and daughter, Celia (Cecillia Lubashka), age 26, arrived together on July 8, 1921.

Searching for Loeb and variations of Lubaszka failed to identify Martins arrival. David Garfinkle was one of the key figures of Pearls stories. David was the president of the congregation in which the Adels Family belonged, and during her younger years Pearl taught piano to Davids daughter, Florence. In 1907, before Florence was bor n, David, his wife Celia and their son Harold traveled to Poland for his parents fiftieth wedding anniversary. Pearl claims that they returned with four of Davids nephews, Joe Jones, Lawrence Jones, Maurice Goodman and Martin Lubaszka (Loeb). The Jones brothers, some of whom used the name Jonas, are identified below in my discussion about Felix Garfinkle. Locating the family relationship to Maurice Goodman is also discussed in a separate section, below.

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The fact that David Garfinkle brought Martin to the U.S. was the key clue that I needed. A search of EllisIsland.org identified that David, Celia and Harold Garfinkle returned to the United States on October 1, 1907, on the SS Kronprinz Wilhelm. Searching the passenger list page-by-page I found consecutive entries for Lasar Jonas and Mordche Laub, coming to the US to reside (for Lasar) with uncle David Garfunkel and (for Mordche) with father Solomon Laub. These are obviously Lawrence Jones and Martin Loeb. As an added bonus, the passenger list noted the arrival of Davids brother Max Garfinkle, too. However, there was no entry for either Joe Jones or Maurice Goodman.

David Garfinkle and Family

Pearls stories talk about David Garfinkle, his wife Celia and children, Harold and Florence. Pearl remarked that Harold had married twice (once before David died in 1928) and had one son. However, this is the only information she offered. Regarding Florence, Pearl told a little more. Florence was married, she said, to a chemist named Fishbeck, and had a son and a daughter. The son attended Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute (RPI) and the daughter married an RPI graduate. The daughter also had a masters degree and taught in Boston. Florence and her first husband divorced, and she eventually remarried. For quite a while I couldnt find more information about Harold or Florence, or their extended families. Davids New York Times 1928 obituary, available from Ancestry.com was too brief to give any clues. I couldnt find further information, or even an obituary or Social Security Death Record for Harold. Similarly, I couldnt find a record for Florence Fishback, especially considering that she remarried and would be listed under a different name. Eventually I located a handy Web site run by the Italian Genealogical Society. This site contains basic information from some of the death and marriage records for the New York City boroughs and area. Searching this site for Florence Garfinkle identified that she married Azriel L. Fishbach in Kings on November 8, 1934. Pearl spelled her married name wrong! I assumed that since Florence got married in 1934, she probably had her children between 1935 and 1945. I performed an Internet search for Fishbach and either Rensselaer or RPI, looking for an engineer that graduated between about 1957 and 1967, assuming the Fishbach son was about 22 years old when he graduated. One of the many listings identified a Laurence Fishbach, a retired aerospace engineer living in the Cleveland/Akron Ohio area, who attended RPI from 1958 to 1962. The next trick was to attempt to contact this Laurence Fishbach to see if he is Florences son. I tried a Web-search for both Laurence and Larry Fishbach. There were many links showing Larry Fishbach, living in Aurora, OH, but no useable e-mail address with which to contact him. I looked up the name in www.FaceBook.com, found that this Larry in Ohio had a membership and sent him a message asking if he was the son of Florence Garfinkle Fishbach. He responded that he was, and through continuing e-mail messages he supplied me with

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information regarding his family and his sister Vida Fishbach Goldstein, who lives in the Boston-area with her RPI graduate husband, Arthur. SUCCESS! Even better than that, Larry also knew his first cousin, David Garfield, Harold Garfinkles son, and supplied me with his e -mail address. David filled me in with information on Harolds second marriage to Lenore Goldfarb, including the fact that Harold Garfinkle changed his last name to Garfield in 1937. David also connected me with his children and other family details.

Felix Garfinkle
Several times in her stories Pearl mentioned Felix Garfinkle. She remarked that he was the half-brother of Max Garfinkle and a nephew of David Garfinkle. Felix immigrated after World War One, and eventually moved to Detroit, MI, where his cousins Jones and Jonas lived, then settled as a CPA in Chicago. I wondered if I could locate this Garfinkle cousin and his descendants. Searching Ancestry.com produced an immigration record for Felix Garfinkle on the same ship that Chester Loeb arrived into the US in 1920. However, there was no other record of a Felix Garfinkle to be found. I suspected that he changed his name from Felix, and would have to find somebody with a similar sounding first name. Knowing that he was 15 when he arrived in 1920, I searched Ancestry.com for a Garfinkle (or Garfinkel) born about 1905 living in Illinois. Among the many Garfinkle entries there was a Phillip Garfinkle in Chicago in the 1930 US Census. Since the names Felix and Phillip were close, I looked at the details of this entry. It showed that Phillip was about the same age as Felix and was a public accountant, which matched Pearls description. Checking the Family Trees entries in Ancestry.com, I found that some people had done some preliminary research for Philip Garfinkle in Chicago. There were several trees entered for Philip George Garfinkle, one of which showed two living children, one male and one female, although no names were listed (to protect living family). Persistent searching of Yahoo.com and Google.com helped me identify Philips son, Ron, and daughter, Sally Green. I contacted Sally, who put me in touch with the descendants of the Jones/Jonas brothers, whom grandma Pearl had referred to when writing about how Martin came to the U.S.

Maurice Goodman
Identifying how Maurice Goodman, David Garfinkles nephew, was related to the family was difficult. I couldnt identify a clearly relatable perso n in the Ellis Island immigration records about the period that the Loebs and Garfinkles came to the U.S. The only other clue about Maurice was that grandma Pearl wrote about Maurices employment by the owners of the Palace Theater in New York City.

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It wasnt until 2009 that Ancestry.com provided enough detailed city directories for New York City that I could validate that Maurice actually did work for the Palace Theater organization. Continued searches of Ancestry.com helped me identify which Goodman family Maurice belonged to in the 1920s, and from that data I identified that Maurice was born in Seneca Falls, NY, in 1882. He was the son of Abraham and Sophia Goodman. Since David Garfinkle did not bring Maurice from Poland as grandma told in her stories, I had to figure out how either Abraham or Sophia was related to my family. I used Ancestry.com to find the New York City obituaries for both Maurice and his mother, Sophia, and with the help of the Italian Genealogical Society Web site, I found the New York City death certificate numbers for both Maurice and his mother (listed as Celia Goodman). Ordering the death certificates, I identified that Sophias (Celias) maiden name was Yudenstein or Judenstein, and her Russian parents names were Lazarus an d Hannah (Poland was part of Russia at the time). Could I find a relationship between Judenstein and my family? I tried searching JewishGen.org for Judenstein in the Garfinkle home town of Suwalki, Poland. There were 16 listings for Judensztejn in Suwalki! Knowing that Celia was born about 1848, I found an 1847 birth listing for a Cywa (pronounced see-vah) Judensztejn, daughter of Lejzor Dawid (Lazar David) and Enia Hirszowna (daughter of Hirsz). Hmmm. There IS a Hirsz Gorfinkiel in my family tree. Additionally, Cywas parents names were close to Sophias/Celias parents: Lazarus-Leizor and Hannah-Enia. Looking down the list, I found an 1846 marriage record for Lejzor Dawid Judensztejn to Henia Froma (Henia is even closer to Hannah). Henia is shown as the daughter of Hirsz (no last name shown) and Mindla Dawidowna (daughter of David). Bingo! My great-great-great grandparents were Hirsz Gorfinkiel and Mindla Dawidowna from Suwalki, Poland. This makes Maurices mother and David Garfinkle first cousins, and would make Maurice second cousin of Martin Loeb. The listing also shows that Sonia/Celia had two sisters and three brothers. Maybe if I did further Ancestry.com searches for Judenstein I might be able to expand the family tree in this direction. Ancestry.com identified five Paris, France & Vicinity Marriage Banns, 1860-1902 for Judenstein, and all five of the names could be fairly lined up with Sonias siblings. Lo oking at several of them in more detail showed the parents names to be Lazare (or Lazard) Judenstein and Emma Gorfinkel. WOW! Judenstein and Garfinkle shown together again! Suddenly I remembered a different part of grandma Pearls stories, which talked about her brother Lou Adels visit to Europe before World War Two: On one of his voyages he met an old friend who asked Lou to meet him in Paris, as he had dear lady friends, one a doctor and one a dentist, with whom he visited and had dinner with whenever he got to Paris. Lou went with him, and in the course of conversation one of the ladies asked Lou what business he was in. On telling her, she said she had a cousin in the jewelry business in Albany, named Martin Loeb, but probably Albany was very far from where Lou's business was. When Lou told her that his sister was married to Martin, she did not believe him. So when Martin was told of the Page 106 of 136

incident, he wrote to the ladies. Shortly after the Nazis occupied Paris, we heard that the Germans killed them. I think its very likely that Lou Adels met one of these Judenstein cousins of Martin. Searching MyHeritage.com resources identified another genealogy researcher named Sylvie Judeinstein, whose family connected with mine at Lazare and Emma Judenstein in France. Sylvie was born in France and now lives in Israel. Sylvies research includes one couple that died at Auschwitz during World War 2, Maurice Barbasch and his wife Sarah Judeinstein Barbasch, granddaughter of Lazare and Emma, and Martin Loebs second cousin. Sarah must be the person identified in Pearls story.

Jennie Goldstein and Ike

Pearl included a paragraph about her grandfathers sister, Jennie, and her son, Ike, repeated here: Aunt Jennie was my Grandpa Goldstein's sister. She died when I was a little girl, but I do remember going to visit her with Mamma. She had a son, Ike, who was very tall and thin. Today we would describe him as an introvert, because one could only find him either at work or home with his mother. He spoke in monosyllables and gave the impression of being a very stupid person. This was not so, as he had an excellent education, even in those days, and spoke many languages fluently. He was employed by the Federal Government until he died, and to the great surprise of all who thought they knew him, got a great write up in one of the papers. Finding this branch of the family seems near impossible without Jennies married name. Here is a summary of the few facts that she gave, together with some observations: Jennie Goldstein was Philip Goldsteins sister. (At least that what Pearl remembers many years later. Maybe Jennie was related to Philip in another way. Maybe her first name was not Jennie.) Jennie died when Pearl was a little girl. (If little girl means younger than 10, then Jennie died between 1900 and 1910.) Jennies sons name was Ike. (No last name was given.) Ike was tall and thin. Ike had an excellent education and spoke many languages. Ike was employed by the Federal Government until he died. Ike got a great write up in one of the papers.

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So, where do I start? Without knowing Jennies married name, I couldnt search Ancestry.com for their family in the U.S. Census records. Ancestry.com has a search feature to locate previously entered family trees, whereby one can enter some of the name info for two generations (person and parents, first and last names), as well as dates and locations. Searching for Jennie Goldstein as a root name produced no usable results. Entering just Jennie (or Jenny) Goldstein in the mothers name, leaving the root name and fathers name blank produced no results of a son with a name that could equate to Ike (e.g. Isaac, Isidore, Israel, etc.). (One of the names that did come up was the gangster Benjamin Bugsy Siegel, whose mothers name was Jennie Goldstein!) I tried entering just Ike in the root person first -name, and Goldstein in the mothers maiden name spaces, but no results with good potential came up. Next, I assumed that Ike was born in New York State either about 1865 (Esther Goldsteins generation) or about 188 5 (Esther & Isaacs oldest childs generation). So, I searched every five years between those dates. The 1880 entry produced an interesting result, identifying a person named Isaac Siegel (b. 4/12/1880), son of Kive Siegel and Leah Goldstein. Looking more into Isaac Siegel, I found he has many simila rities to Pearls description. I found out that he was a lawyer, a four-term Republican U.S. Congressman, and a Federal Justice. His passport application listed him as 511 tall (tall for the early 1900s). He had 9 obituary ads in the New York Times when he died in 1947! At this level, Isaac Siegel seems to fit Pearls description. However, there are several discrepancies. Isaacs mother died in 1940, when Pearl was 40 years old. Pearl noted that Jennie died while she was a little girl. Additionally, Isaacs mother, Leah, was born in 1862, putting her in the same generation as Pearls mother, not her grandfather, Philip, who was born in 1843. The 1940 obituary for Leah lends no assistance, but says that she immigrated to the U.S. alone at the age of 5. Other interesting information that may help in the research may come from Kive Siegels and Leahs marriage certificate. The Italian Genealogical Society Web site shows a marriage of Kive Siegel to Leeah Rosen in Manhattan on May 25, 1879 (certificate 3243), which matches the marriage year information from Census records. Maybe Leah was living with the Rosen family, or there was a transcription error to the database. I ordered and received a copy of Kives and Leahs marriage certificate/record of May 25, 1879. They show that Leahs parents are Marx Rosen and Mary Goldstein. This would help line up the generations, since this Mary Goldstein would be approximately in Philip Goldsteins generation. However, Philip already has a sister Mary, married to Henry Jacobs. By the way, the certificate is witnessed by Sarah Rosen. Is she Leahs or Kives sister? Doing more searching of Ancestry.com I found some records of Marx (or Max) and Mary Rosen, including 1870 and 1880 Census (also showing Sarah) and two passport applications for Marx and Mary, one of which (1896) was witnessed by Isaac Siegel who was 16 at the time. However, I couldnt identify their immigration records, although the passport records indicate Marx emigrated from Hamburg on April 12, 1865. The 1880 Census showed Leah living with Page 108 of 136

her husband, Kive, and son Isaac, but Leah is not in the 1870 Census with her parents Marx and Mary. Marx and Mary were born in the early 1820s, and were in their 70s when they applied for the passport in 1896. That would put Mary in her 80s when Pearl was a little girl, and would possibly be the Jennie who died at that time. More records need to be searched, viz Ancestry.com obituary records. I got a phone call from Isaac Siegels son, Marc (b. 191 6), on January 28, 2010. He had been researching his family history for some time, and wanted to share information. Marc often referred to his grandmother as Leah Goldstein, and related that she came to the US alone from Europe (possibly being born in England?) about 1867 at the age of 5. He said that Leah had Goldstein relatives in Baltimore, and she lived early in her life in Oil City, Pennsylvania. I have not found any confirming records for these facts yet. I note that if Leah is a Goldstein and not a Rosen, as listed on her marriage certificate, maybe she took the name Rosen to have Marx and Mary sponsor her marriage, since she was under 18 at the time. I have also noted that some of the Census records for Leah indicate that she and her parents were born in England. Thats interesting because some records show that great -grandma Esther Goldstein and her cousin, Esther Finkelstein, were born in England, too. I also remember that grandma Pearl once told me that the Goldstein family came to the US from Poland after spending some time in England. Hmm. I received a copy of Leah Siegels Manhattan death certificate on July 22, 2010, and found some interesting information (although the accuracy of information covering almost 80 years of previous history is always questionable). It shows that Leah was born in England in October 1862, and that her parents were Isaac and Mary Goldstein (both born in Poland). This could be an indication that Leahs father was Isaac Goldstein, and that Mary was married twice, the second time to Max (Marx) Rosen. Maybe Isaac was Philip Goldsteins brother, and therefore Isaac Siegel (maybe named after his grandfather) and Pearl Adels are second cousins! Searching Ancestry.com birth records identified a listing for a Leah Goldstein, born in East London, England between October and December 1862. This was almost too good of a coincidence not to be true. I sent away for a copy of this record, but was disappointed to find that the birth record was for a Leah with parents Woolf and Rose Goldstein, and further research of English records showed that that family had many other children while continuing to reside in England. Obviously, this is not the correct Leah Goldstein and family. At this time, I believe the preponderance of the evidence indicates that Isaac Siegel and his mother, Leah Siegel, are probably in Pearls family. But, definite proof is lacking, as well a s identifying how they are related. More research is needed in this area.

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The Reichig Family

Pearl wrote a lengthy paragraph about her fathers sister and her family, and their troubles getting their son out of Poland at the beginning of World War One. Here are the basic facts, together with some observations: Isaac Adels had a sister who married a man with the last name Reichig. (They were probably born in the 1850s or 1860s.) The Reichigs had two children, a daughter named Malka, and a son (no name given). (The children were probably born in the 1880s or 1890s.) In 1914 or 1915 the Adels family in NYC worked with the U.S. Immigration Department to get permission for the Reichig son to enter the U.S. (Are these records still retained somewhere?) The Reichig son may have eventually reached Argentina. The remainder of the Reichig family probably remained in Poland. The Loeb family knew the Reichig family, as Pauline remarked how much Pearl looked like her cousin Malka.

Presently, thats all I know about the family. My next actions would be to try to locate the immigration request paperwork, and check Yad Vashem for any World War Two Holocaust testimony for the family.

Julek Garfinkle
Pearl wrote about a cousin of grandpa Martin named Julek Garfinkle. Although she gave a lengthy story about his life during and after World War II, together with the familys support and assistance given to him when he settled in Israel, I have not been able to identify any descendents or how he was actually related to our family. Since I knew the descendents of all of Jankiel Gorfinkiels children except those of Josiel Lejzor, I suspected Julek was related to him. It wasnt until August 2013 that I found a connection. Reading through the Yizkor Book of Sierpc I found a story about Leizor Garfinkel, a lawyer born in Suwalki, and his son, Yulik (Yoel), a doctor. This validated the connection, but provided little else. On September 13, 2013, I got a message in my MyHeritage.com family tree Internet site from Leeora Gorfinkel of Italy. Leeora explained that she was the daughter of Julian Gorfinkel, the son of Leizer, and that her father had cousins in the USA named Loeb, Jonas and Grinbaum. I was ecstatic, and contacted her immediately! Leeora validated many of Pearls stories, provided much more detail, and filled in a lot of detail about that branch of the tree.

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The best way to expand and support Pearls stories is to repeat Leeoras messages to me. Since her English is somewhat stilted (she speaks Hebrew, Polish and Italian), I will paraphrase her messages. Hello Gary, My name is Leeora (Eleonora) Gorfinkel. My father Julian never talked about his family so I know almost nothing about them. I know that his father's name was Leizer, that he was a lawyer, and he had a second wife named Halina (my Grandmother). My father had cousins in the USA named Loeb and Jonas and Grinbaum. My father was born in 1893 in Sierpc, Poland. He was a doctor of medicine and he died at the age of 91 in Haifa, Israel. He is buried in the cemetery of Zichron Yacov in Israel, where we lived when I was young. I have many photographs of his family, but I don't know who are in them. I would like to know if yours is really the family of my father. Thank you. Leeora Gorfinkel And another message she added: It was not easy to find a connection because I dont live in Israel , but in Italy. When I was young I remember some cousins of my father from the States that came to Israel to visit us. I remember Millie and Chester, Celia Ash and her husband, and some others. But, it was in the 1960s and I dont remember much. I dont really know how they were cousins, because my father never told me about it. It's really exiting to know that maybe this is the occasion to learn something more about my family. I apologize for my English. It is many years that I speak only Italian and Hebrew. I'll be happy to answer to all your questions, and to show you the pictures that I have. And this wonderful message came soon after: Dear Gary, This evening I told my mother that I'm in contact with you and she was very happy. My mother, Sophie Stabholz-Gorfinkel, is 93 years old and she's got a wonderful memory. She told me that she remembers very well Mitchell Loeb, who came to visit us in Israel, and also Celia and Joe Ash, and Chester and Millie. They came to my Bat Mitzvah when I was 12 years old. Now I'm 66 years old and I remember things only because I have the pictures. Ill tell you something about me. I'm a dentist and I worked for many years in the University Hospital of Milano Italy. I came to Italy after the military service in Israel, and after the 6 Day War, to study medicine. When I finished, I took specialized in dentistry, which means 9 years of studies. After that, I married Mr. Claudio Comi, who was divorced from Page 111 of 136

his first wife, with whom he a daughter named Antonella (my step daughter). In 1987 my son Davide Julian Alexander was born. Now we are divorced. We live in a small place called Opera, near Milano. Now about your questions: I remember my father's cousin Joseph Jones, who was a General in the American Army.129 I know he studied at West Point, and I must have his picture somewhere that he sent to me to Italy. Isaac Grynbaum or Greenboim was another cousin of my father. He was a Minister in the first Israeli government in 1948. He immigrated to Israel in 1933 and lived in a Kibbutz named Gan Shmuel near Hadera. He died in 1970 when I was already in Italy. About the x-rays equipment: I came to know about this fantastic story in March this year. In the bottom a suitcase full of very old letters of my father and of my mother, I found a letter about the radiographic equipment [that Pearl referred to] and how your family sent it to Israel. The letters are in Polish, so my mother had to read it for me. During the 2nd World War, my father never saw the Germans. He was taken by the Russian army as a war prisoner because he was a Polish officer, and being a physician, was sent to Kazakhstan to work in a prisoners camp. He was very fortunate that they didnt send him to Katyn when they killed 17,000 Polish officers. One of them was my grandfather Alexander Stabholz. When he came back to Poland after the war, he didnt find anything about his wife, Yevgenja, his daughter Ela and his son Jozef.130 I know that his sister Michalina lived in Russia. I dont know the names of his other 2 brothers. After the war he left Poland and went to Austria with my mother, whom he married after the Red Cross told him that his family most probably died during the war. My mother, with my grandmother and my aunt Alicia, was also in the same prisoner camp in Russia as my father. My mother was a nurse and she worked in the camp with my father. I was born in 1947 in the American camp in Steyr, Austria, where my father and my mother were living. When I was 2 years old, we immigrated to Israel. All this time my father got help from his cousins in America, and for years we got dresses from America because in the 1950s there was really nothing in Israel. When I was 5, Celia sent me a wonderful doll and all the people of Zichron Yaakov came to see the American doll! I think it's enough for today. It's not easy for me to write in English. I hope to hear from you again. Good night. Leeora
Leeora may have confused Jo e Jones with Martin Loeb, who went to West Point. Ill have to check out Joe Jones military record, anyway. 130 Julian entered Testimonies in the Yad Vashem database for his wife, son, daughter, mother and brother, that the perished in the Shoah.
129

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Leeora sent me a photograph of the Gorfinkiel Family taken in Suwalki in 1907. Pearl relates in her stories that David Garfinkle visited his parents in Poland in 1907 for their wedding anniversary, and the Ellis Island records confirm this travel.

Gorfinkiel Family in Suwalki 1907

Reviewing and comparing to other photographs Ive seen, I have identified most of the people in the photo. Left-to-right standing: David Garfinkle, Herman (Hersz) Jonas, Pauline (Pessa) Garfinkle Loeb, Hinda Doba Gorfinkiel Gospitalnik (probably) and Leizer (Josiel Lejzor) Garfinkel. Sitting in the center: Chana Riwka (Segalowicz) and Jankiel Gorfinkiel Sitting on the right-front: Sarah (Sora Estera) Gorfinkiel Jonas

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Generation E

Family 1
Generation F

Generation G

Martin Loeb 1896 - 1962 See Family 2

Ellen Judith (Judy) Loeb 1923 - 1989

(Private) Wander <Living>

Pearl Adels 1899 - 1991 See Family 4

Jerome Wander 1912 - 1987

(Private) Wander <Living>

(Stillborn) Loeb 1926 - 1926

(Private) Wander <Living>

David George Loeb 1929 - 2000

Gary Adels Loeb 1954 -

(Private) Katzin <Living>

(Private) Loeb <Living>

(Private) Loeb <Living>

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 114 of 136

Generation C

Family 2
Generation D Generation E

Michael Lubaszka ?-?

Solomon Loeb 1865 - 1945

Mitchell Loeb 1887 1968 See Family 3

Pauline Garfinkle Rose Greenbaum ?-?

(Chaja Peszka Gorfinkiel)

Joseph Ash
(Josef Asz)

1862 - 1940 See Family 7

1879 - 1981

Hija Lubaszka ?-?

Celia Loeb 1889 - 1979

Bluma Lipsky ?-?

Chester Loeb
(Ladok Lubaszka)

1894 - 1970

Gitel Lubaszka ?-?

Mildred 1902 - 1981

Josiel Lejzor Gorfinkiel ~1854 - ? See Family 7

Martin Loeb 1896 - 1962 See Family 1

Celia Lubaszka ~1865 - ?

(Son) Lubaszka ?-?

Second Marriage of Josiel

Helena Varatz 1863 - ~1942 See Family 23

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Marek Gorfinkel 1882 1942 Died during WW-2 Die Died during WW-2 Felitzia ?-?

Page 115 of 136

Generation E

Family 3
Generation F

Generation G

Mitchell Loeb 1887 - 1968 See Family 2

(Private) Pelton
<Living>

Mervin J. Pelton 1918 - 2001

(Private) Pelton
<Living>

Frances Deanofsky 1894 - 1976

Flora Victoria Loeb 1919 - 2000

(Private) Pelton
<Living>

Rubin Landy 1921 - 1993

(Daughter) Landy 1952 - 1953 (Private) Landy

<Living>

Eleanor Doris Loeb 1925 - 1996

(Private) Landy
<Living>

(Private) Trubowitz Shelley Howard Trubowitz 1922 - 2009

<Living>

(Private) Truwit
<Living>

(Private) Loeb <Living>

(Private) Truwit
<Living>

(Private) Truwit
<Living>

(Private) Trubowitz
<Living>

(Private) Trubowitz
<Living>

(Private) Truwit
<Living>

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 116 of 136

Generation D

Family 4
Generation E

Isaac G. Adels 1858 1922 See Family 14

Moses Adels 1883 1955 See Family 5

Esther Miriam Goldstein 1864 1918 See Family 9

Louis Adels 1885 1947 See Family 6

Generation F

Richard Bertrand Drooz 1919 1997

Max Segel 1888 1963 Esther Miriam Segel 1919 2003 Etta Adels 1887 1972 Irving G. Segel 1922 2010 Harry M. Adels 1889 1940 (Private)
<Living>

Matilda Green 1894 1968

Samuel Adels 1891 1971

Pearl Adels 1899 1991 See Family 1 Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 117 of 136

Generation D

Family 5
Generation E

Moses Adels 1883 1955 See Family 4

Alfred Adels 1908 1976

(Private) Altman Maude R. Levy 1880 1961

<Living ? >
Generation F

(Private)
<Living ? >

Helen Corinne Adels

<Living ? >

(Private) Altman
<Living>

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 118 of 136

Generation D

Family 6
Generation E Generation F

Louis Adels 1885 1947 See Family 4

Joseph J. Skalet 1910 - 2005

(Private) Strutin
<Living ? >

Jeanette (Nettie) Pelterson 1888 1955

Lucille Adels 1917 - 1986

(Private) Skalet
<Living ? >

(Private) Skalet
<Living ? >

(Private) Hennefield
<Living>

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 119 of 136

Generation C

Family 7
Generation D

Jankiel Gorfinkiel ?-? See Family 18

Josiel Lejzor Gorfinkiel ?-? Family 2 & Family 23

Generation E

Fajwel Gospitalnik ?-? Chana Rywka Segalowicz ?-?

Moszek Lejbus Gospitalnik

~1883 ?

Inda Doba Gorfinkiel ~1856 - ? Sora Gutta Gorfinkiel ~1858 - ~1865 Hirsz Idzko Gorfinkiel ~1860 - ?

Gersz Icek Gospitalnik ~1883 ?

Philip George Garfinkle 1903 - 1973

Rose ?-?

Salek Garfinkle ~1905 ~1920 Max Garfinkle 1888 1965

Other Wife of Hirsz ?-? Pauline Garfinkle 1862 - 1940 See Family 2 Sora Estera Gorfinkiel 1865 - 1943 See Family 8

Dora Verabachick ~1890 - ?

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

David Garfinkle 1871 - 1928 See Family 17

Mendel Gorfinkiel ~1875 - ~1875 Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 120 of 136

Generation D

Family 8
Generation E

Hirsch Jonas ?-?

Joseph Jones 1889 1972

Jacov Menachem Jonas 1890 1970 Sora Estera Gorfinkiel 1865 - 1943 See Family 7

Lawrence Jones 1893 - 1936

Eleanor Wittenberg 1899 1992

Solomon H. Jonas 1898 1978

Florence B. Sanders 1909 - 1964

Celia M. Sanders 1905 - 1999

Arthur Herman Jonas 1903 - 1951

Ann Solomon 1913 - 1993

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 121 of 136

Generation B

Family 9
Generation C Generation D

Harry Goldstein ?-?

Mary Goldstein 1835 1902 See Family 10

Esther Miriam Goldstein 1864 1918 See Family 4

Wife Unknown

Philip Goldstein 1843 - 1922

Abraham Goldstein 1874 ?

Catherine (Kate) ? 1843 - 1902

Ann Goldstein 1878 1938 See Family 12

Eva Goldstein ~1853 - 1936 See Family 11

Rose Goldstein 1881 1963 See Family 13

Husband Unknown Ike ?? Jennie Goldstein ??

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 122 of 136

Generation C

Family 10
Generation D

Henry Jacobs 1836 - 1918

A. Cooper ??
Generation E

Alexander Bassett 1885 - 1961 Mary Goldstein 1835 1902 See Family 9 Ester Jacobs ~1864 - ? Lillian Jacobs 1888 1968 Max Jacobs 1863 - 1920 Benjamin Friedman 1888 - 1968 Sarah Jacobs 1866 - 1918 Lucy Jacobs 1890 1974 Charley Jacobs ~1868 - 1908 Samuel L. Jacobs 1894 ? Abraham Jacobs 1871 ? Florence ? Nellie Jacobs 1875 - 1962 See Family 16

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 123 of 136

Generation C

Family 11
Generation D Generation E

Max Finkelstein ~1850 - 1938

David Marks 1871 ?

Harris Aron Marks 1900 1932 Willie Marks 1905 1926

Eva Goldstein ~1853 - 1936 See Family 9

Esther Finkelstein ~1871 ~1932

Jewel Marks 1906 1992 Ruth Marks 1907 1995

Harry Finkelstein ~1874 ?

Ellard Hoag ~1881 - ?

Pauline Finkelstein 1875 ?

Herman Finkelstein 1878 1979

Raymond Finkelstein 1907 1980 Estelle Finkelstein 1910 1967

Caroline Warshofsky 1883 - 1955

Myron Finkelstein 1911 2001 Corinne Finkelstein 1917 1985

Emanual Finkelstein 1881 1919

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 124 of 136

Generation D

Family 12
Generation E

Aaron Cohen 1869 1913

Louis Harry Cohen 1900 1935

Anna Ray Wolff 1908 - 1937 Ann Goldstein 1878 1938 See Family 9
Second Marriage

Samuel Mitchell Cohen ~1902 - 1960

Evelyn Schumacher ? - ~1960

Katie Cohen ~1904 - ?

Generation F

Billy Morris ? - ~1930

(Private) Isner

Mary Ann Morris 1928 2008 Etta Cohen 1905 - 1994 Thomas J. Leach 1917 2000 Margaret ?? Herbert Edwin Tapscott 1919 1979 Herschel A. Leach 1867 1947 Frances Samantha Leach 1920 2000 Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 125 of 136

Generation D

Family 13
Generation E

Henry Louis (Lou) Skolnik 1873 - 1932

Joseph Diem 1906 1975

Rose Goldstein 1881 1963 See Family 9

Corinne Miriam Skolnik 1905 - 1986

Isabel Skolnik ~1907 - ~1935

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 126 of 136

Generation B

Family 14
Generation C

? Adels

Jacob Adels ~1838 ?

Generation D

Wife Unknown

Fannie ?-?

Josef Adels 1873 1951 See Family 15

Moses Adels ?-?

Isaac G. Adels 1858 1922 See Family 4

Jedis (Judith) Goldstein? ? - ~1899

? Reichig

? Adels

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 127 of 136

Generation D

Family 15
Generation E Generation F

Josef Adels 1873 1951 See Family 14

Joseph Zitowitz ~1888 ?

(Private) Cohen
<Living ? >

Maxine Zitowitz 1920 - 1978 Lena Blum 1880 1948 Anna Adels 1897 - 1893 (Private?) Moss
<Living ? >

Fannie Rose Adels 1903 1986

(Private?) Zitowitz 1923 - ? Barry Adels 1933 - 2004

Harold (Harry) Adels 1904 - ?

(Private) Haak
<Living>

(Private) Ahmed
<Living>

Claire Bloom ~1905 - 1957

(Private) Adels
<Living>

(Private) Miller Abraham Meyer 1900 - 1964

<Living>

(Private) Meyer
<Living>

Etta Adels 1906 - 1995

(Private) Meyer
<Living>

(Private Wife)
<Living>

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 128 of 136

Generation D

Family 16
Generation E

Louis I. Bregman 1870 - 1929

Walter Isadore Bregman 1897 1969

Generation F

Walter Whitman Bregman Nellie Jacobs 1875 - 1962 See Family 10 Geraldine Mildred Whitman 1911 1978
<Living>

Ernest A. Klein 1896 - 1988

Sylvia Bregman 1900 1993

Myra Bregman 1902 - ?

Robert B. Bregman 1906 - 1978 Louis I. (Buddy) Bregman Claire Stein 1908 - 1999
<Living>

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 129 of 136

Generation D

Family 17
Generation E

David Garfinkle 1871 - 1928 See Family 7

Harold Ira Garfield 1898 - 1954

Celia Lewis 1877 1947

Gertrude ~1907 - 1988

Generation F

(Private) Garfield
<Living ? >

Eleanor Goldfarb ?-?

Azriel Leon Fishbach 1911 - 1973

(Private) Goldstein
<Living>

Florence J. Garfinkle 1912 - 1980

(Private) Fishbach
<Living>

Mac Garod 1910 - 1981

(Private) Fishbach
<Living>

Rebecca Silverstein 1943 - 2007

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 130 of 136

Generation A

Family 18
Generation B

Dawid (Last Name Unknown) ?-?

Hirsz Gorfinkiel ?-?

Generation C

(Unknown Wife)

Mindla Dawidowna (Daughter of David) ?-?

Jankiel Gorfinkiel ?-? See Family 7

Lejba Marcus ?-?

Sora Gorfinkiel ?-?

Henia Froma Gorfinkiel ?-? See Family 19

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 131 of 136

Generation C

Family 19
Generation D Generation E

Lejzor Dawid Judensztejn ?-?

Abraham B. Goodman ~1845 - 1886

Abraham S. Silverman ?-? Carrie Goodman ~1868 - ?

Henia Froma Gorfinkiel ?-? See Family 18

Celia Judenstein ~1847 - 1902

Meyer Monsky ~1871 - 1944 Belle Goodman ~1870 - ? Joseph Goodman ~1871 - ? Aaron Goodman ~1878 - ?

Malka Judensztejn 1849 - ?

Rubin Dorn ?-?

Chana Judensztejn ~1863 - ?

Maurice Goodman 1881 - 1939 Adele Sybil Flato 1890 - 1980 Minnie Goodman 1888 - 1957

Abram Judensztejn ~1863 - 1914 See Family 20

Josiel Abel Judensztejn 1859 - 1937 See Family 21

Szmojlo Judensztejn ~1863 - ?

Lazare Judeinstein ?-? Emma Judeinstein ?-?

Minna Rosenfeld ?-?

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 132 of 136

Generation D

Family 20
Generation E

Abram Judensztejn ~1863 - 1914 See Family 19

Henri Judeinstein ?-?

? Chivorez ?-? Bertha Scheine ?-? Maurice Judeinstein 1849 - ?

? Reiksack ?-?

? Judeinstein ?-?

? le Bonheur ?-?

? Judeinstein ?-?

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 133 of 136

Generation D

Family 21
Generation E Generation F

Josiel Abel Judensztejn 1859 - 1937 See Family 19

Hirsch Judeinstein 1889 - 1967

Robert Felix Judeinstein 1921 - 2006 (Living) Hirschfeld ~1868 - ?

Rachel Rosenfeld 1861 - 1940

Jeanne Rosalie Rueff 1894 - 1979

Andre Judeinstein 1931 - 2003 Nicole Marx 1936 - 1985

Maurice Barbasch 1887 1944 Died at Auschwitz ? Barbasch ?-? Sarah Judeinstein 1892 - 1944 Died at Auschwitz

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 134 of 136

Generation D

Family 22
Generation E Generation F

Icek Frajndlich ~1875 - ~1942 Cousin of Solomon Loeb? Died during WW-2

Henry Leon Zys 1904 - 1983

Andreas Zys (nee Lucio Fiorenzo) 1938 -

Saba Freundlich 1905 - 1977 Nekha Rafatowicz ~1877 - ~1942 Died during WW-2 (unknown) Freundlich ?-?

Susannah Houghton ?-

(unknown wife) ?-?

Yaakov Amit* ? (lives in Israel)

Efraim Freundlich 1910 - ~1942 Died during WW-2

Felek(?) Freundlich

*Amit means friend in Hebrew. Freundlich means friendly in German.

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 135 of 136

Generation D

Family 23
Generation E Generation F

Josiel Lejzor Gorfinkiel ~1854 - ? See Family 7

Julek (Julian) Garfinkel 1893 - 1984 Helena Varatz (Scwartz) 1863 - ~1942 Eugenja Perlmuter 1897 - ~1945 Died during WW-2 Ela Garfinkel 1927 ~1945 Died during WW-2

Jozef Garfinkel 1929 ~1945 Died during WW-2

Sophie Stabholc 1920 Anna Eleonora (Leeora) Gorfinkel 1947 Died during WW-2

Michalina Gorfinkiel ? - ~1942 Died during WW-2

(son) Gorfinkiel

Bronislawa Gorfinkiel ? - ~1942 Died during WW-2

Person in Pearls Stories or Notes

Person not in Pearls Stories or Notes

Page 136 of 136