breindel

Friday Apr 4

by

Visited Clara at hospital
and Max Breindel,

Max is really besides
a relative a good friend
He is not like some
others of the family

—————–

Matt’s Notes

As noted in a previous post, Max Breindel is the man who met Papa and his sitter Nettie at Ellis Island when they first arrived from the old country. Max also invited them to stay in his apartment, where they shared a bed with his children, sleeping head-by-toe, until they could find a place of their own. Papa always recalled this as a great, adventurous time in his life, and I think his kind words about Max reveal his ongoing gratitude. (Check out the Lower East Side Tenement Museum’s tenement tour to get a better idea of what their living quarters must have been like.)

I don’t know whom Papa refers to when he says “some others of the family” are not as good as Max, but it’s about as harsh a statement as he ever makes. Perhaps he means his brother Isaac, the previous recipient of a disapproving nod for pressuring Papa from the old country for money. I also know his sisters Nettie and Clara didn’t get along, so I wonder if Nettie earned a demerit for some kind of misbehavior or lack of interest while Clara was in hospital with her newborn son.

I’m also trying to figure out if it was unusual back then for an immigrant woman to stay in the hospital for so long after giving birth (it’s been eight days now). Papa had expressed surprise at how early his nephew was born, so maybe there was some sort of medical complication. Then again, a week or more might have been a normal post-childbirth stay in 1924; as always, if anyone reading this knows a little more, please post a comment or send an e-mail.

Tuesday Sept 2

by


That dreamy girl from
the factory 12 floor across
the 12th floor of the factory
I am working, looked at
me again as usual, as I’ve
noticed for some time during
the noon hour when I am
on the balcony.

I’ve tried to arrange for a
private meeting, but no success
so far. On account of the noise
from around, I have been
able to hear her voice but faintly
Will see what can be done
to date her up.

Am glad to have paid
up today a debt of $25
to Cousin H.B.

——————

This is the second day in a row that Papa’s used the expression “date her up,” so I guess he must have picked it up recently, maybe from his friend Shapiro over Labor Day weekend. Could they have spent their time at the “girls camp” conspiratorially whispering to each other about which women they’d like to “date up,” among other things? Maybe that’s what passed for lewd and crude in Papa’s circle.

Meanwhile, this entry gives us our first real picture of what Papa’s workplace was like — a noisy factory where workers took their breaks on the “balcony” (could this mean a fire escape?) and occasionally cast meaningful glances at each other across the rows of machinery. The light tone of this entry makes me think Papa might be emerging a bit more from the depression he felt all summer in the wake of his father’s death. Perhaps the change of season helped, though his repayment of his debt to Herman Breindel — incurred, I’m sure, back in May when Papa needed to raise $100 for his father’s funeral expenses — must have been a load off his mind as well.

It looks like my family will always owe a debt of gratitude to Herman, who gave Papa a place to stay when he first came to America and, apparently, was always ready to help him out in times of trouble.