munger

June 28, 1927 II – Atlantic City

by

——–


June 28, 1927

Tuesday

Bright Eyes:1

There is so much to write but
I don’t know where to begin.

Well the opposition has lost out,
it was only natural, could it have been otherwise
since I was in it? (It is the opposition I told
you about.)

We put up a gallant fight, but
I cannot say that we lost everything, we have a number
of our men on our new administration but the
leadership.2

Believe me my dear, I am going
through a spiritual revival here.

Witnessing a session of Junior Hadassah
Convention at the Ritz was the most pleasant experience
here, charming young American bund girls assembling
to do their bit for a great cause, everyone embued with
the great national spirit, everyone the personification
of Godliness attending to their convention business in
a manner befitting a much older (in years) aggregation of
people.3

They are here from every part of the country,
and the short time that I’ve spent with them will
long be remembered by me.

I have grown to like Atlantic City, and I will
return here often whenever the occasion will present
itself. The boardwalk is very much like the one
in Coney Island, but the people here are so refined
and make friends quickly.4

./.

Of course it is mostly rich people that
come here, but they’re very nice, and I’ve made
friends with a number who did not come for the
purpose of attending the Zionist Convention.

It also gives me here the opportunity to
observe styles and really beautiful rich modes.

I could not help mentioning here styles,
you know that I am interested in it, the trend
of the present season is white, about 75% of those
I have seen wear white outfits from hat, dress,
coat, gloves to shoes and stockings.5

In general I’m enjoying my short stay here
and happiness would be complete if you were here
to share it, knowing you as you are I know that
you would enjoy it here tremendously.

Now dear please don’t forget me, now
that you have other boy friends, so much more
attentive than I am, but I have proven to you I
believe my sincere friendship and admiration, but
when you write to me I want you to write joyfully
willfully and not as a matter of duty.

I now have to go to attend another session
of the convention, and two more afterward, and
I expect to leave for home tonight.

The next letter will be from little old N.Y.

Hoping this find you in good
health and spirit.

I am as ever your

Harry Scheuermann

—————–

1 – My wife, Stephanie and I call each other “Bright Eyes” from time to time, but only because it’s what Zira calls Charlton Heston in “Planet of the Apes.” I’m sorry, but I simply can’t read the words “Bright Eyes” without thinking about it. I wonder if it was one of Papa’s major nicknames for my grandmother, or if it was just something he toyed with in 1927. Did he ever catch “Planet of the Apes” when it came out, and if so did it amuse him to see “Bright Eyes” so employed?

2 – Louis Lipsky had been head of the Zionist Organization of America since 1921, but long-simmering complaints about his financial and general mismanagement finally came to a boil at the 1927 Z.O.A. convention. Here’s what the New York Times had to say about the scene on the convention floor on June 26th, two days before Papa wrote the above letter:

What were until now merely rumblings of dissatisfaction with Zionist leadership came out into the open this afternoon when the Zionist Organization of America opened its annual convention in the Chelsea Auditorium…

Bitter parliamentary wrangles marked the opening session — so bitter, in fact, that President Louis Lipsky had difficultly at times keeping order in the meeting…There was no clear-cut test of strength between Mr. Lipsky and those who are seeking to oust him from leadership; but emphatic objections were made to his rulings…

The dissatisfaction has been intensified by depressing reports from Palestine, the gravity of which was freely admitted by both sides in the dispute. President Lipsky was frank to recognize it in his address to the delegates, in which he outlined specific proposals to meet the situation.

Time Magazine, though displaying the casual anti-Semetism evident in the period’s journalism, provided a good summary of the situation:

The Zionist Organization of America closed another of its annual bickerings at Atlantic City last week. It was the 30th anniversary of this group which has sought to organize Palestine as a national homeland for Jews. In that purpose they have practically succeeded. Palestine has been set up as a League of Nations mandate entrusted to England’s overseeing. It is governed by a High Commissioner who deals with regional problems as they affect Jewish settlers through what is known as the Zionist Executive. The High Commissioner also guards the interests of Arabs and other indigents of the region.

Millions of dollars have been dumped into Palestine, chiefly from U. S. purses; 150,000 Jewish immigrants have been carried there chiefly from countries of eastern
Europe. Many more have gone from the U. S., driven by a traditional idealism. Colonies have been established; trading cities created; harbors, roads and railroads constructed; industries set going. Most of this has been accomplished since 1921.

But all has not been economically well in Palestine, especially during the last year. At present 8,000 men and women are out of work. They are traders, too many of whom had been permitted to migrate into the country. There have been insufficient goods manufactured or grown locally to supply them with trade; there have not been enough customers to take the goods they handled. To furnish work for these 8,000, Great Britain has authorized a loan of $25,000,000 to build harbors and railroads, a concession has been granted to develop the hydro-electric power of the Jordan River, and the potash deposits of the Dead Sea will be worked.

At the Atlantic City convention of the Zionist Organization of America last week, Louis Lipsky, chairman since 1922, was charged with all the woes of Palestine. His ideal has been paternal. He would have Jewish immigrants to Palestine fit into a social, cultural and economic frame which the World Zionist Organization would build for them. (Chaim Weizmann, British explosive inventor, is head of the World Zionist Organization.) Other Jews, non-Zionists, like Louis Marshall, constitutional lawyer of Manhattan, would let immigrants build up their own enterprises and order by private initiative. Other Jews, Zionists and non-Zionists, have still further schemes for making Palestine a self supporting, spiritual Utopia. At last week’s convention Zionists argued at one another.

The Times’ June 27th coverage of the convention gave a bit more detail about the leaders of the opposition group with which Papa was affiliated and their unsuccessful bid to unseat Lipsky:

When the convention assembled in the Chelsea Auditorium this afternoon the attack on the administration was launched by Morris Zeldin, New York Director of the United Palestine appeal and thus indirectly a Zionist employe (sic).

His charges concerned financial matters, largely with subsidiary organizations of the Zionist organization. He charged Mr. Lipsky and his associates with responsibility for the financial plight of the American Zion commonwealth, the land-buying agency in Palestine controlled by the American Zionists. He accused them of bad management in the sale of the Palestine securities.

He mentioned unnecessary sums spent for publicity, excessive salaries paid to an executive secretary, and in general charged the administration with dissipating funds which had been raised for the building of the Jewish homeland.

Papa’s fraternal order, B’nai Zion (a.k.a. Order Sons of Zion) was an offshoot of the Z.O.A., and was, perhaps, one of the “subsidiary organizations” mentioned above. This may have accounted for Papa’s sympathy for the opposition, the true leader of which seems to have been one Israel Goldberg. The Times had this to say about Goldberg’s performance at the convention:

More sweeping charges were expressed by Israel Goldberg, the publicity agent who has organized the opposition forces at this convention….

He charged that Mr. Lipsky had concealed facts in his administration report; he held the American Zionist organization responsible for the signing of the Weizman-Marshall agreement [the Z.O.A. was politically aligned with Weizmann, so his attempts to work with a rival like Marshall, who was less supportive of Zionist efforts in Palestine, didn’t go over so well with the Z.O.A.];he insisted that the blunders of the past were serious enough to demand Mr. Lipsky’s removal.

So, what about the opposition’s defeat would make Papa describe it to my grandmother in such a self-effacing way (“Well the opposition has lost out, it was only natural, could it have been otherwise since I was in it?”)? I think it must have been because Israel Goldberg’s representation of their position was flat-out laughable and thus embarrassing to those associated with him. From the Times:

He received little encouragement, however, from the delegates, who seemed to be amused at Mr. Goldberg as he spoke…

“Shall we or shall we not hold Lipsky responsible?” A chorus of “no” flustered him for a moment, but he went on. Soon afterward, he exclaimed: “If I had been in the administration things would be different.”

A wave of laughter swept the hall. It was apparent that the opposition movement had shot its bolt.

All in all, not a great moment for Papa and his comrades, though I think Papa’s long familiarity with unforgiving intra-Zionist debate and disagreement kept it from affecting him too adversely. As the next footnote will point out…

3 …Papa’s participation in an unsuccessful opposition movement obviously didn’t make him feel any less committed to Zionism or keep him from having a plain old great time at the convention. I don’t doubt the authenticity of the “spiritual revival” he experienced, though I’d wager it arose in part because the chance to enjoy Atlantic City in its prime, hobnob with different classes of people, and collaborate with “charming young American” girls of the Junior Hadassah simply made him feel refreshed and vital and important.

4 – This clip, allegedly a 1926 home movie taken in Atlantic City, shows what the scene was like:

5 – Papa wrote very little about his life as a garment worker in his 1924 diary, which may be why I’ve always thought he was far more emotionally engaged in sowing the seeds of union activism than in sewing the seams of ladies’ garments. Because his personal writing is so articulate and romantic, I think I’ve allowed myself to see his factory work as some sort of dutiful compromise, a demonstration of his willingness to suppress his inner life for the sake of future generations, a profound testament to his capacity for pragmatic self-sacrifice.

In short, I think I’ve been unwittingly condescending and probably flat-out wrong about Papa’s relationship to his profession. My mother tells me he always enjoyed going to work (he kept at it until he took ill at seventy-two) and though he stayed at a sewing machine until the end, he was an able cutter and a talented designer (he designed and made my grandmother’s wedding gown, pictured below).

As the above letter indicates, Papa had developed a genuine interest in fashion and clothing during his time in the garment trade, and by 1927 was (I think) even more engaged because he was working the sales floor of The Lion Costume Company at the behest of its owner, Mr. Surdut, who had taken a liking to him. Surdut had also accompanied Papa to the Zionist convention in Atlantic City, and I’m sure they spent some time between sessions checking out the “rich modes” of costuming and coming up with new sales pitches.

Papa was intrigued by the predominance of white on display, a trend related, no doubt, to the 1927 summer season’s emphasis on sportswear. “This year sports clothes have attracted the greatest attention,” wrote an anonymous fashion reporter for the New York Times, “and at the moment the utmost in style is the equipment for mid-Summer sports. The design originally intended for dresses for athletic activities has come to be adapted for any and every occasion, and now the sports or semi-sports model is taken as a guide in the cut of far the greater number of gowns shown in the Summer collections.”

Thanks to my friend Ingrid, a costume designer who has a great collection of vintage fashion magazines, we’ve got a few examples of the white summer sportswear fashions that Papa observed. (The images below are from a Vogue summer pattern book from 1929, but they probably give us a good idea of what was out there in 1927).

And here’s a photo of an actual person sporting a white tennis outfit in 1927. It seems like clothing looked better on models than on real people back then, too.

—————

References:

June 29, 1927 – New York City

by

——–


New York June 29, 1927

My dear Jean:

Your card in the mail
box was was the first to greet me at
my homecoming, it was like a tonic
after a strenuous trip home from the resort.1

The first thing I thought of was
to find out how your folks were that
I may write you about them, so I called up
Mother, the situation at home
is this:

Everybody is well and happy,
Rob is leaving tonight for the country,
Mother may not be able to answer your
card or letter today owing to the fact
that Sally is very busy at Rosie’s helping
her pack things. Rosie will leave next
week instead of this, and pop may
remain at his old place of business.

As you see dear, I am trying to
inform you of everything that may be of
interest to you.

./.

2

I was glad indeed to hear that
you like the place, you will undoubtedly
enjoy it.

Judging from the view on the
card the place looks to be a very nice one.

From your request for stamps I can
draw the conclusions that you consider
me (if not the most beloved) the most
trustworthy friend, and if you do you
certainly made no mistake because for
I do not conceive any greater friendship
than mine for you, which is enhanced with
a spirit of love and self-sacrifice.2

I am enclosing here one stamp
booklet, should you need more just write.

My experience in Atlantic City will
be long remembered not only by me bu
by all those who witnessed and
participated in that historical gathering
of the Zionist Convention.

After I mailed you the last letter

./.

from A.C. my group won many
more points. I took the floor and
spoke for 15 minutes, and that was
the only time I spoke. I may have
made any number of slips in the course
of my talk, but I succeeded in creating
the impression I intended to.3

And now my dear I am determined
to do all I can to help the Zionist
Org. during the year, I did very little
for them in the last few years, I was
rather apathetically inclined but it is going
to be different now.4

I am resting today, and the last
two days of the week I will work.

I may have written my dear
things in which you are little interested, but
you know that Zionism is a problem
in which I am gravely interested, I even
had hoped, and still am hoping that
some day you may become a leader

./.

in the most venerable organization
of women, the organization working
for an ideal which is the most romantic
of the ages, the org. which upholds the
honor and dignity of our eternal people
I mean as you will readily guess the
Hadassah.

And now dear forget the other younger
handsomer boys for awhile and write
a nice big letter to your Soul Friend (as I named
you the day I met you)5, and I on my part
will write you of all the doings at home.

And in closing a little blessing:
My your short vacation be a most enjoy-
able one, May the Almighty watch over you
and keep you from harm.

My He open your eyes and make you
see the truth (in regard to your choice of an
eternal friend).

So here I am closing again with
the usual regards and kisses

Your lonely

Harry.

—————

Matt’s Notes

One quick note for the antique stationery lovers out there: Papa wrote this letter on two wide sheets of paper, folded tabloid-style, that have rough-cut, silvery edges. Here’s a closer look:

And here’s an even closer look at the edging:

I suppose I find this interesting because there has to be some story behind his switch to this paper. Was it left over from the Z.O.A. convention? Did he borrow it from a neighbor? Was it expensive, and if so did he reserve it for letters to my grandmother? What would the answer reveal?

1 – Papa had just stayed at the Ritz-Carlton in Atlantic City while attending the 1927 Zionist Organization of America conference. The return train ride from Atlantic City to New York City took about three hours via the Pennsylvania Railroad with stops in Hammanton, Burlington and Trenton (according to Fred, the Managing Director of Transportation Research for Papa’s Diary Project) and was perhaps “strenuous” due to summer crowds and the hectic procedures associated with the Z.O.A. convention’s conclusion.

Then again, Papa may have exaggerated his trip’s strenuousness a bit in order to emphasize the “tonic” effect of my grandmother’s card; he was always trying to find ways to get her to write him more, as he does in this very letter.

<!– –>

2 – Though it’s a bit sad to see Papa grasping at straws for signs of my grandmother’s affection, his interpretation of her request for stamps is not all spin. As we’ve discussed before, one of his most memorable qualities was his capacity to see the good in the world and find delight in the actions, no matter how mundane, of those he loved. Thus, when my grandmother asked for a book of stamps it became an endorsement of his trustworthiness as opposed to an indication of her willingness to exploit his attentiveness.

Also in evidence is Papa’s fundamental unselfishness when he says “I do not conceive any greater friendship than mine for you, which is enhanced with a spirit of love and self-sacrifice.” Papa was one of those rare people who took true satisfaction in selflessness, who would not be happy unless he was working toward the happiness of others. The loneliness he wrote of in his 1924 diary was rooted in his inability to adequately express this instinct, the frustration of an artist denied his canvass. In early 1925, he thought he found his canvass in my grandmother, but after two-and-a-half years of her indifference, he feared he was mistaken. If it seems a bit overwrought for him to answer her request for stamps by describing his spirit of love and self-sacrifice, it’s in keeping with the direction of his 1927 letters, many of which show how desperate he’d become to express his generosity through her.

3 – Papa had been part of an opposition group at the Z.O.A. convention that tried to oust from office Lewis Lipsky, the organization’s longtime president. Though the opposition failed and Lipsky was reelected, the convention delegates, according to the New York Times, “ran head-on into a hurricane” on the last day of the convention “over the selection of an administrative committee…for the coming year.” Most of the controversy focused on the whether or not Z.O.A. fixture Abraham Goldberg should have lost his seat on the committee to Anna Moskowitz Kross, a Hadassah leader. The Times went on to describe the scene:

To the Goldberg supporters Mrs. Kross was a comparative newcomer whose reputation had been made outside the Zionist movement. Those opposing Mr. Goldberg considered him a symbol of the past….

The storm broke on the floor of the convention this afternoon, with shouting, interruptions and objections such as even this convention had not yet produced. Time and again the voices of speakers were drowned out by shouts of excited delegates…

Papa’s own 15-minute speech must have been part of the drama described above, and as a member of the anti-Lipsky group he would have spoken out against Goldberg who, according to the Times, “had often criticized Hadassah and the power it wielded in the Zionist Organization.” As my legions of readers will certainly remember, Papa wrote in his 1924 diary of his admiration for Goldberg (he booked Goldberg to speak at an event and hung out with him afterward) and showed a certain distaste for Hadassah, so his attitudes about both had clearly changed by 1927.

In the end, Lipsky backed Kross “for the sake of harmony” and Goldberg lost his seat.

4 – Papa’s 1924 diary and letters from subsequent years are full of references to the Zionist meetings he arranged, events he attended, and donations he made, so it’s curious to see him characterize himself as “apathetically inclined”. Perhaps, because his need to help others was insatiable and his Zionist work was a manifestation of that need, he was simply incapable of feeling like he was ever doing all he could.

5 – Indeed, Papa uses the expression “Soul Friend” in the first of his letters to my grandmother.

—–

References:

July 2, 1927 – New York City

by

——–

[This letter has no envelope]

——–

New York July 2, 1927

My dear Bright Eyes:

I received your letter and was
glad to hear from you.

I was a bit surprised that the
idea of writing letters was not so pleasing,
The end of your letter was like this “The
true fact is that I am too lazy”.

Of course my dear I do not doubt
that this is actually the truth, since you
stated it, but I do not agree that is was
at all necessary to mention.

Believe me I was one of the busiest
men in Atlantic City1 and yet I managed
to find enough time to write to you and
to others. There is no such thing as being
too lazy with me.2

Last night I visited your home
and I am in a position now to write
you a little about every one.

Everybody was there but Rob and
Ben, Rob left Thursday morning with

./.

2

his inseparable companion the other
half of his WE (a la Lindbergh) his
Rolls Royce for the country, and Ben
was absent in business with his own WE.3

The evening was fine and when I came
to the house, Mother, Father, Gertie and
Rose were sitting very comfortably on the
new white bench enjoying an early summer-
nights breeze, Sally was inside the house
during the two and one half hours I was
there, and trying to find out the reason
for her not coming out I found her engaged
in reading a thriller entitled “Secrets”
Well she hat to put the secrets on the table
and join the gang outside.4

Your friend Millie came over for a few
minutes to say good bye as she was leaving
for the week-end for a certain camp, where
she will later in the season spend her
vacation.

Rose is all prepared to leave this
coming week with Sally, and by the way
your niece Miss Shirley is getting smarter
and smarter every day.

./.

3.

Imagine at just one mere request to sing
she gave us a nice little concert which
we enjoyed better then a Galli Curci concert
on the radio.5

We tried to make merry but your
absence was clearly felt not only by me
but by every one.

It is not my intention my dear to get
sentimental in this letter, so I am trying
to avoid my sentimentation as much as
possible.

Asking everyone what sort of greeting
they have to send you through me so
here it is as much as I can remember:

Father: he is longing for you.
Mother: Take good care of yourself
Rose: Don’t let that guy you met on the
train get away from you, the one with the
mustache. (My personal remark: I don’t like
this business)6
Abe: Sends you his love
And Gertie thanks you for the card you
didn’t send but she excuses you at
the same time for you don’t know her
address.7

./.

I am first planning now to get
away for the Fourth, for around my place
they have already started off the fireworks
and the noise is deafening and I don’t
like this sort of noise, if I can get company
I will surely go.

As you see I tried my best to fill
out my letter, for I know that no matter
what I am writing it will be interesting
for you when you are far away from
home.

I expect you in return to make
an effort to write me all about yourself
I am quite sure that you won’t be lonesome
there, you have that winning way of making
friends.

Oh yes my dear, remember whenever you
intend to come home I will meet you
at the station, just write the exact time
of your arrival and what station.

And now my dear, wishing you
a most enjoyable Fourth of July.

I am as ever your devoted

Harry

———–

Matt’s Notes

1 – Papa had recently returned from a Zionist Organization of America conference in Atlantic City. While there he had written my my grandmother several letters.

2 – Papa’s letters to my grandmother invariably contain some kind of good-natured entreaty for her to write him longer, more frequent letters, though this is the first time her indifference toward correspondence has resulted in an overt expression of his frustration. What Papa’s really expressing here, of course, is his frustration over her continued indifference toward his two-and-a-half years of courtship efforts. Her attempt to stop his requests for more letters (“I am too lazy to write”) clearly offended him and probably scared him a little, too, because it demonstrated exactly how little effort she was willing to put into their relationship. Perhaps it even made him wonder if he’d wasted his time on her. No wonder why he found her sentiments “not so pleasing” and not “at all necessary to mention.”

3 – This passage quite nicely captures a moment in the American popular culture of 1927. Charles Lindbergh had, on May 20th of that year, completed his monumental solo crossing of the Atlantic in his single-engine monoplane, The Spirit of St. Louis. I’m sure it’s hard to overstate how ubiquitous Lindbergh and his image had become in the ensuing weeks; huge crowds, adoring press, and heads of state greeted him wherever he went. On July 2nd, the day Papa wrote this letter, an article in the New York Times reported that Lindbergh was about to finish a well-publicized effort to crank out an autobiography. Its title, “WE“, referred to Lindbergh and his plane in the first person plural and must have been a bit of a cultural buzzword.

So, when Papa says my grandmother’s brother Bob’s car is “his inseparable companion the other half of his WE (a la Lindbergh)” he’s making a joking comparison to Lindbergh’s well-documented relationship with The Spirit of St. Louis. (Papa makes another little joke when he calls Bob’s car his “Rolls Royce for the country.” The car wasn’t a Rolls, but Bob must have treated it like it was.) Ben, who “was absent in business with his own WE”, was the husband of my grandmother’s sister Rose, and obviously a car owner himself.

4 – Sally, one of my grandmother’s sisters, was well known to be a grouch who never got along with my grandmother and certainly wasn’t friendly to Papa. Papa had expressed his impatience with her in an earlier letter (he accused her of being too lazy to write letters which, as discussed above, was a serious criticism) and must have felt, thanks to my grandmother’s own antipathy toward her, that taking her to task for her antisocial behavior was fair game. (In fairness, we should remember that my grandmother’s family originally tried to set Papa up with Sally, but he fell in love with my grandmother instead. As rude as Sally might have been, I can understand why she wouldn’t have liked to hang around with Papa.)

I can’t find a book from the 1920’s called “Secrets” in the Library of Congress catalog, but perhaps Sally was reading the 1927 novel “House of Secrets,” a thriller by Sydney Horler. (The 1936 film adaptation is now on my Netflix queue.) Maybe the book’s cover emphasized the word “Secrets” in large type, like this…

House of
SECRETS

…so Papa only caught the word “secrets” when he found Sally secreted in her reading nook.

5 – Shirley, my beloved cousin, is the daughter of my grandmother’s sister Rose and her husband Ben (he of the “WE” car). She would have been a baby when Papa compared her cries and giggles to the voice of Amelita Galli-Curci, who was at the time a major star with the Metropolitan Opera in New York. Here’s a photo Galli-Curci, improbably posed with a goat and a sheep:

And here’s a clip of Galli-Curci singing “Caro None” from Verdi’s Rigoletto, via archive.org:

Anyway, Shirley would later serve as a flower girl when Papa and my grandmother got married. Though she did not pursue a singing career, she continues to get smarter every day.

6 – My grandmother’s family didn’t take kindly to it when, as mentioned above, Papa fell in love with my grandmother (a young beauty pursued by an army of wealthy suitors) instead of Sally (who was no great prize and therefore needed to settle for a man of modest means like Papa) and they tried for years to discourage his courtship efforts. It looks like Rose was in on the game, too — she couldn’t possibly have thought that asking Papa to convey a message about one of my grandmother’s other boyfriends was anything other than an insulting way to marginalize him.

7 – I love the phrase “Gertie thanks you for the card you didn’t send,” an example of Jewish guilt-giving in its purest form. It looks like Papa wasn’t the only one got annoyed with my grandmother for her poor correspondence habits.

———–

References:

——-

Image sources:

The photo of Galli-Curci and her four-legged friends comes from the Library of Congress catalog.

The WE book jacket appears on Wikipedia, which makes a case for its use qualifying as fair use under U.S. copyright law.

July 7, 1927 – New York City

by

——–


New York July 7, 1927.

My dear Jeanie: –

I have received your
letter, and you win (as usual) which
means that you are absolutely one
hundred percent right [when] you are too
lazy to write, with so many beautiful
natural surrounding and other attractions
I am inclined to believe that there
isn’t much time for writing,1 especially
in your case you have to write to
a number of people, and I suppose
I’m getting my share, and besides you
are writing so much all year (on the
typewriter) that this vacation may
keep you busy with anything but
writing.2

As you see I’m trying to find

./.

2

some excuses to justify your action,
and I’m not just jesting either, but
I am sincere.

I’ve been hoping against hope to
be able to talk to you on the phone,
I have tried all week, but it is
utterly impossible to get a connection
with Hurleyville exchange on account of
heavy traffic.3

All the central operator could
promise me was to try to connect us
around 1. a.m. and at that time
my dear I would not want to wake
you from your sweet slumbers,
To call you by day, I don’t think
you are at home then, so it seems

./.


3.

that I’ll have to wait to hear
your sweet voice until Sunday.

I called at your home Tuesday
night at Sallie’s invitation to be
present when you would call up
we waited up to about 12 o’clock
but the call did not come, I
suppose that you experienced the
same trouble trying to get a
connection with N.Y.

By the way Jeanie, Mother
asked me to write to you to come
home by train only, I think she is
right, but pardon me I’m not
trying to advice you for I know that
you can always use your own
judgement.
4.

There is no news at home,
excepting that at this time Rose
ought to be in the country, Sally is
expecting to leave Sunday after your
arrival.

So dearest nothing else to
write now, I hope that you are
enjoying fair weather (it is raining
hard here now).

Please excuse my blots and funny
script, this is the first time I’m using
a new fountain pen, but it don’t work
well.

Looking forward for the pleasure
of meeting you [on] Sunday. I’m
as ever

Your Harry.

—————–

1 – Having privately decided to marry my grandmother, and having spent the previous two-and-a-half years courting and catering to her, Papa was clearly insulted and dismayed by the indifference evident in her infrequent and spare correspondence. In his last letter, he tactfully but unmistakably reprimanded my grandmother for saying she was “too lazy to write” in response to his frequent requests for more and longer letters. I suppose her response was none too contrite and made him even more nervous than her lack of communication; in the opening paragraph of this letter, Papa appears to be trying to calm her down with a “yes, dear, I don’t know what I was thinking, of course you don’t have to write if you don’t want to.”

2 – My grandmother worked for many years as a secretary to a lawyer named Louis Richman. Perhaps this reference to her “writing so much all year (on the typewriter)” means she had started her secretarial career by 1927.

3 – Hurleyville was (and still is) a hamlet in the town of Fallsburgh, New York, where my grandmother vacationed in 1927 at a Jewish resort called the Roseland Hotel. It wasn’t far from such legendary Sullivan County spots as the Concorde Hotel and Kutsher’s Country Club. Alas, while it’s easier to place a phone call to the area nowadays, it’s almost impossible to find a trace of the old “Borscht Belt.”

July 29, 1928 – New York City

by

——–

N.Y. July 29, 1928

My Dear Jeanie:

I could have gone on some
excursion with my friends but
I wanted to be here so that I could
call you at 5 P.M. as we made up,
But to my sorrow you seem to have
forgotten to wait on the phone on the
appointed time.

Now, you wanted me to call and
I did, and am disappointed now,

I left a message for you to
write, and please do write in
detail of your trip and everything

If you recall at first it was
understood that I call you at 6:00

./.

2.

but before you left we changed
it for 5 o’clock, I don’t want to
critisize you, little mistakes are
bound to happen, but I hope
it won’t happy again.1

I you do sincerely wish me
to call please state exactly the
time (it must be in evening when
I’m off) and I’ll call.

I called up mother and Mrs. Weiss
and told them of your safe arrival

It is still Sunday and I cannot
get any stamps at the P.O. so I’m
sending you now 2 stamps that
I have with me.

3.

If this letter was any harsh
blame it on my dissappointment.

First now dear after having called
you I can go away, and the only
place to go alone is the
C.C. Stadium the heaven of good music.2

So dear I’ll bid you
Au revoir

Your dissappointed (but not peeved)

Harry

P.S.

Please pardon my funny
script as I write in a hurry at
the Drug Store.

H

————

References:

1 – Though it’s been a full year since Papa wrote his last letter to my grandmother, its contents might have well been written the next day. He is still dutifully writing to her while she vacations in the Catskills, still sending her stamps, still patiently campaigning against her other suitors. Meanwhile, she still keeps him guessing with displays of casual indifference, though it looks like he’s decided not to take her to task for such things anymore. As you may recall, his last attempt to address her lack of enthusiasm for communication (he gently reprimanded her when she called herself “too lazy to write” substantive letters) caused some unpleasant backlash so, no matter how irritated he might feel, “dissappointed (but not peeved)” is the most he’ll admit to.

2 – City College Stadium, also known as Lewisohn Stadium, was located at 138th Street and Amsterdam Avenue in Manhattan and played host to a popular summer music series that ran from 1918 to the mid-1960s. Papa, a classical music aficionado, had been a fan of this “heaven for good music” since at least 1924; we know this because he mentioned his intention to bring a date there in his August 18, 1924 diary entry (he wound up taking her to a concert on the Central Park Mall instead).

If Papa went there on the night he wrote this letter, he would have seen one in a series of New York Philharmonic concerts guest conducted by Frederick Stock, who at the time was in the middle of his 37-year run as Conductor of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. The most interesting part of the program for Papa was probably the Stadium premier of Charles Sanford Skilton’s four-part Suite “Primeval,” a modern work inspired by Native American themes. Here’s the evening’s complete program, according to the New York Times:

– Overture, “La Patrie” (Bizet)
– Symphony B flat major (Chausson)
– Suite “Primeval” (Skilton)
— a. Sunrise Song (Winnebago)
— b. Gambling Song (Rogue River, Oregon)
— c. Flute Serenade (Sioux)
— d. Moccasin Game (Winnebago)
– Baccanale and Finale of Overture, “Tannhaeuser” (Wagner)

I was about to say Papa must have also enjoyed the evening’s selection from Wagner’s “Tannhaeuser” because he was a big opera fan, but then I remembered that it was probably the first time he’d seen “Tannhaeuser” live since attending a performance at the Metropolitan Opera in November of 1924. Remember, late 1924 was a difficult period for Papa, marked by feelings of deep loneliness and a lingering sadness over his beloved father’s relatively recent death. We know that memory, as it does with many people, exerted a powerful influence over his moods and outlook, especially when reminders of his Eastern European boyhood and far-away family filled him with longing for happier times (he would get particularly blue around birthdays, Jewish holidays, and other milestones).

I wonder, then, if a performance of “Tannhaeuser” in 1928 might not have reminded Papa of those darker days, if he found himself wondering why my grandmother’s typically disappointing behavior (because surely this was not the only time she’d ever blown off a phone call with him) affected him so strongly, why he inexplicably felt, on that lovely summer night, something so like a late autumn chill.

————

References:

July 31, 1928 – New York City

by

——–


N.Y. July 31, 1928

My Dear Jeanie. —

It is now Tuesday afternoon and no news from you
as yet, I have looked in vain for the mailman to deliver
your precious letter.

This morning I called up home and nothing new
everybody is well and happy, dad was at business
and Sadie was preparing to go to Rose and then to C.I.
Sadie says that she was going to write you a nice long
letter (I hope she does).

Oh Jeanie dear I wish I knew when I could get you
on the phone I am not interested to talk to strangers
but to you only you know what I mean.

It is hard to get used to the fact that your are away1
it is lonesome and dreary, but what does it matter since
you’re having your vacation and soon we will be together again
but that soon seems to be like a year off.2

Sunday night after having called Lake Huntington I went
to a Stadium concert3 but the sweet music could hardly make
me forget the dissappointment of not being able to hear your sweet
voice on the phone, Yesterday I saw a ball game at the Polo
grounds4 and this afternoon I’m attending to my accumulated
correspondence, tomorrow again to business.

Three days is a little to much without words from you
and should I not receive something by tomorrow morning

./.

2.

I’m afraid I won’t be able to do my work.

It seems that the writing muse has left me, it is due
perhaps to the heat which is annoying me, you see Sunday
and Monday were cool and balmy days but today it is
hot again.

In spite of my great love for you I don’t seem to be
able to get going in writing what I call a real nice
sentimental letter, I hope to have more luck in my
next try.5

In conclusion I again wish to greet your
companions the very charming Wise girls.

And remain as ever

Your devoted

Harry

P.S.

Here is a poem by Robert Browning

Summen Bonum

All the breath and the bloom if the year in the bag of one bee:
All the wonder and wealth of the miner in the heart of one gem:
In the cove of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea:
Breath and Bloom, shade and shine, — wonder, wealth, and — how — how far
above them —

Truth, that’s brighter than gem,
Trust, that’s purer than pearl, —

Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe — all were for me
in the kiss of one girl.

—————

The above poem fits in so well
with your farewell kiss, dear.6

————————

Matt’s Notes

1 – As she had in previous summers, my grandmother was vacationing for a few weeks at a Jewish resort in New York’s Catskill Mountain region (a.k.a. the “Borscht Belt”). She stayed this year at the Viola House (perhaps it was more commonly called the “Viola Hotel,” as Papa wrote on the above envelope) in Lake Huntington. Thanks to the Internets and Google Books, we can see a photo of the Viola here as it appears in Irwin Richman’s Catskill Hotels.

2 – Doesn’t it seem like this letter, with phrases like “soon we will be together again”, “only you know what I mean”, “three days is a little too much without words from you” is written by a man who knows the recipient longs to see him as much as he longs to see her? Had Papa and my grandmother, at some point between the summers of 1927 and 1928, developed a stronger commitment to each other that’s now evident in this letter? Or do I just imagine I see signs of such a development because I know how the story ends?

Perhaps I want to hurry things along because I just can’t stand to see Papa extend his self-imposed limbo for another year, pretending, against all evidence, that he and my grandmother were already companions, living, because he preferred to, in an imaginary relationship with a woman who would remedy the displaced and lonely feelings of his youth. The fact is, it would be another two years before my grandmother agreed to marry Papa.

3 – As discussed in our last post, Papa attended a performance of the New York Philharmonic, guest conducted by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s Frederick Stock, at City College Stadium at 138th and Amsterdam. He had planned to go out of town with some friends, but decided not to in order to keep a phone appointment with my grandmother. Alas, my grandmother did not keep the appointment herself and Papa wound up going to the concert because it was “the only place to go alone.”

4 – The Giants-Cubs game at the Polo Grounds provided only an hour and a forty minutes of escape for Papa, but ended happily with a 4-1 Giants win. (I continue to marvel at how much longer baseball games are today than they were in the 1920’s. The he Mets-Yankees game I attended on Friday lasted three hours and eleven minutes, though I uncharacteristically left in disgust before that Yankees finished their 9-0 win.) We haven’t looked at the New York Times‘ baseball coverage since Papa last mentioned a game in his 1924 diary, but it looks like the Giants beat writer still had his sense of humor in’28:

[Giants Pitcher] Lefty Faulkner wasted no time in
proving himself master of the situa-
tion and he didn’t allow the Cubs
any excuse for not hurrying. In
fact, they must have realized that
the sooner they got it over with, the
better it would be for them.
…

Pat Malone proved no mystery to
the Giant hitters as they belted him
and flayed him for ten hits in the
six sessions he toiled.

As a result of all this bombarding
the Giants climbed back into third
place in the National League scram-
ble for the first time since they
reached home, except for a few
short minutes on Sunday when they won
the first game of a doubleheader.
Still, they are not so far in front
of the Cubs that they can afford to
sit down with their feet on the fur-
niture.

5 – Papa would not have consciously acknowledged such a thing, but I’d wager he felt like “the writing muse left” him and prevented him from composing “a real nice sentimental letter” because he really didn’t think my grandmother deserved a nice letter. Even if he did, as speculated above, feel like he was getting closer to winning her hand, he still had to contend with her tendency to ignore his letters, blow off phone calls, and allow her family to treat him poorly. Perhaps Papa suffered a little writer’s block because his angry thoughts were too close to the surface and he risked letting them loose if he put pen to paper. It makes sense, then…

6 – …for Papa to have sought relief by transcribing the above Browning poem (Papa wrote the title as “Summen Bonum,” though the actual title is “Summum Bonum”, a Latin term for “the greatest good”) though I wonder if it accurately describes a romantic goodbye kiss between Papa and my grandmother or if it is Papa’s attempt to romanticize a more ordinary peck on the cheek. It’s particularly hard to tell from this letter what’s true and what Papa just wants to be true.

—————-

References:

August 2, 1928 – New York City

by

——–


New York Aug. 2nd 1928

My Dear Jeanie: –

I am in receipt of your card and letter
which is so peculiar of that fighting spirit of yours
which I so admire, in fact I got a kick out of reading it,
I am really sorry if I made you sore, and please
let’s consider that a closed incident.1

From your meager description of the place I can
gather that it is an ideal place for you to get a real
rest, with noise and excitement the city can supply you
plentiful.2

Your folks received your card and letter as well
dad told me that he was feeling fine and so does everyone
in your family.

My working season is getting a slow start, I am
off again today and tomorrow on again, my business
to me is a like a barometer description of the poor
business conditions of the current times.3

This morning my dear I mailed you a
package of candies I hope that you will receive it
before the end of this week.

And now I intend sending you some funny
magazines, at a quiet place like the one you’re at
it would serve well to fill out your leisure time by
reading light literature.4

./.

2.

I think that your neighbor Etta the Kid, her
mother and Phil are leaving for the country today
and my friend Jack will be lonesome for awhile.5

This Friday I will be up your house and
see everybody and hear little Shirley’s greeting to me
which is something like this Alloh Messah Shaman6
that’s the way she saluted me last time, and besides
I expect your father to have a revival of old music like
Ich bin a yingele von Poilen, the Bowery, etc. and if
I can hook you up on the phone you will have the
pleasure of listening to this Grand Operatic Concert.7

Here I’m closing that I may leave
space for another poem this time by Robert
Burns the immortal Scotch poet.

Your Harry.

Intermingled with Scotch words.

It is Na, Jean, They Bonie Face

In is na, Jean, they bonie face,
Nor shape that I admire,
Altho thy beauty and thy grace
Might well awauk desire

Something, ilka part o’ thee
To praise, to love, I find,
But dear so is thy form to me,
Still dearer is thy mind.

Nae mair ungenorous wish I hae
Nor stronger in my breast,
Than, if I canna make the sae,
At least to see thee blest.

Content am I, if heaven shall give
But happiness to thee;
And as wi’ thee I wish to live,
For thee I’d bear to die.

H.

P.S.

Jean is the correct name
as used by Burns in the
above poem.

———–

1 – We can’t be sure, but it looks like my grandmother gave Papa a figurative earful for his July 29th letter, in which he took her to task for blowing off a scheduled phone call with him and upsetting his plans. True to his remarkably forgiving, generous nature, Papa takes what was almost certainly a grouchy card and a nasty letter and interprets them as admirable, entertaining signs of her “fighting spirit”. This may seem like an exaggerated response designed by Papa to demonstrate his devotion to my grandmother or defuse her anger, but I don’t think it’s too far from sincere. My grandmother gave what we could politely call enthusiastic voice to her “fighting spirit” throughout her life with Papa, and had he not a real capacity to admire it, or even enjoy it, he likely wouldn’t have been able to tolerate it.

2 – On the other hand, Papa still hasn’t stopped expressing dissatisfaction with my grandmother’s infrequent and spare correspondence, in this case her “meagre” description of her summer vacation spot, the Viola Hotel in Lake Huntington, New York. Perhaps, as a non-native English speaker, Papa has improperly used the word “meagre” to mean “short” without understanding its connotations of deprivation, but I think his oft-demonstrated, admirable writing skills preclude the possibility. He’s just not going to let my grandmother off the hook for her lack of interest in communication.

3 – Those of us who haven’t formally studied economic history tend to think the Great Depression hit the United States rather suddenly in 1929, but of course it couldn’t have happened all at once. American workers like Papa obviously detected “the poor business conditions of the current times” much earlier, and in the election year of 1928 Democratic Presidential candidate (and New York Governor) Al Smith and other critics of President Coolidge publicly questioned whether the economy was as healthy as it looked. (Perhaps the subject of the economy came up in Papa’s letter because it was a hot topic of conversation that year.) Papa had shown his support for Al Smith and his anti-Prohibition, progressive platform during the disastrous 1924 Democratic Convention, so he was probably as happy about Smith’s candidacy in ’28 as he was unhappy about Herbert Hoover’s eventual victory.

4 – This reminds me that my grandmother had a strong appetite for “light literature,” especially Harlequin Romances and the like.

5 – “My friend Jack” was, as those of you who have been following along well know, the legendary Jack Zichlinsky, one of Papa’s best friends. Jack lived just a few doors down from my grandmother’s family on Hart Street in Brooklyn and, judging by the familiar way Papa discusses him here, knew my grandmother fairly well.

6 – That’s “Hello mister Scheuermann” in baby talk, in case it wasn’t clear.

7 – My mother tells me that everyone in my grandmother’s family yelled at each other all the time, but Papa’s letters indicate that they liked to sing together, as well. (Perhaps they were a musical bunch in general; they even boasted a professional violinist among their ranks in the person of my grandmother’s brother, Bob.) If you’ve been paying attention you’ll remember that Papa had already established my grandfather’s mastery of the traditional Yiddish song “A Yingele fon Poilen” in his May 7, 1925 postcard, but in case you missed it here’s a version of it by the Kharkof Klezmer Band from Last.fm:

This is the first time Papa has mentioned “The Bowery,” a beloved ditty from Charles H. Hoyt’s 1891 musical “A Trip To Chinatown.” The blog Vitaphone Varieties tells us that vintage recordings of “The Bowery” are difficult to come by, but it does make this contemporary reproduction available:

———–

Update:

In his last letter, Papa quoted a Robert Browning poem because he found himself unable to compose for my grandmother a “sentimental” passage of his own. Though he blamed the summer heat for his sluggish writing skills, I think he was (as I noted previously) angry with my grandmother for blowing off a phone appointment and for her ongoing lack of interest in written correspondence. He expressed his irritation in mild ways, but I think he really wanted to say more, maybe even explode with frustration over her five years of spare communication and withheld affection. At odds with these feelings, he may have developed a little writer’s block to keep the words at bay. Perhaps he quoted another poem in this letter because he still felt angry, still needed to keep his safety valves shut tight against the gathering flood.

References: