Sunday Feb 17

by


After a rather monotonous
day spent the Evening at
home with some friends
(Bluestone, Blaustein & Julius)
at a little sociable game.

—————

Papa was hanging out that night with at least two important figures (Bluestone and Blaustein) from the early days of the Order Sons of Zion. I learned this when I called B’nai Zion’s New York office a few months ago; I don’t remember exactly how the conversation went, but I think one of the people I spoke to mentioned Bluestone and Blaustein without prompting, and the historical brochure they subsequently sent me devotes prominent space to them.

Since I’m not a practiced historian and I was just starting this project when I made that call, I didn’t yet know what it was like to stumble on the the answer to a question I’d never considered, in this case “who were Bluestone and Blaustein?” At most, I’d made a mental note to ask my mother if she’d ever heard of them, but they certainly weren’t on my mind or written down anywhere. So, it really rang my bell when they suddenly showed up in my research — it was like I’d found $20 in the lint screen of the dryer or bumped into David Bowie at the deli.

I half expected the B’nai Zion people to thank me for some reason. They had, after all, devoted their lives to an organization founded by Bluestone and Blaustein. If they hadn’t visited my grandfather that night, Bluestone might have gotten run over by a trolley, or Blaustein could have been falsely arrested for smuggling prohibition hooch. At the very least, my grandfather probably served them sandwiches. Doesn’t B’nai Zion at least owe me lunch?

Anyhow, nowadays the buzz of sudden discovery is more familiar and routine, more along the lines of finding a parking spot in Chinatown as opposed to hitting the numbers. Still, every name on my Cry For Help list could give me that Bluestone/Blaustein feeling again, so there’s nothing for me to do but chase the dragon.

Monday Feb 18

by

[no entry today]

——————-

This is the first day without an entry in Papa’s diary. Perhaps is was just an ordinary day in which Papa visited his sisters on the way home from work and spent the evening by himself.

Temperatures in New York were in the low to mid 30’s most of the day with no precipitation. Time Magazine’s cover featured Eleutherios Venizelos, the outgoing Premier of Greece, though much of the issue focused on Woodrow Wilson’s funeral and legacy. The Teapot Dome Scandal shows up in Time and The New York Times, but is not yet in full flower. In sports, the Westminster Dog Show reintroduced the Best In Show award after the previous year’s elimination of it proved unpopular; a Sealyham Terrier took the big prize.

Papa must have been pleased to read an article in the Times about non-Zionist Jewish leaders agreeing to invest in Palestine, another sign of American Jewish sentiment shifting toward unified support of a Jewish homeland. Maybe he read about it before he went to bed, or maybe he spent the night talking about it with friends.

Tuesday Feb 19

by

[no entry today]

————–

Matt’s Notes

This is the second day in a row without an entry. Perhaps Papa was too busy staying warm or just trying to get from place to place: Temperatures were around 20 degrees for most of the day and New York got over three inches of snow. What did this do to trolley and subway service back then? What was it like to walk on the streets?

The New York Times featured an editorial that day about the departure of Navy Secretary Denby, who resigned under pressure from Congress over his role in the Teapot Dome Scandal. Other stories of interest to Papa might have been: a tenement fire on the Lower East Side that killed 13 (was Papa out watching it the previous night? Is that why he didn’t write in his diary?); the Jewish boxer Abe Goldstein’s upcoming bout; an appeal from Samuel Gompers, President of the American Federation of Labor, to help German labor organizations; and the Federal Government’s takeover of the naturalization process.

Wednesday Feb 20

by


I saw H.S. after midnight in the
subway selling papers, hardly to be
recognized. —

When single he was sporty well
dressed had a little business of his own
was good, fine, a wonderful chap.
Well he married some time ago
a fine little girl.

He failed in business and to support
his little family he became a newsboy
How cruel fate is to some people.

Very hard is he struggling now
his little wife faithful at his side
encouraging him to carry on hoping
for better times.

A newsboy dressed in the humblest clothes
runs through the subway cars seeking
customers for his morning papers,
I hid myself on the platform that he
may not see me to spare him the possible
shame of his pride

————

Matt’s Notes

My mother writes:

“I wonder who the unlucky H.S. is. So typical and kind of Papa to hide so the man won’t be embarrassed. Look how he romanticizes his little wife by his side. She may have thrown him out on his sad backside…”

This portrait of H.S. is one of Papa’s more literary entries in a while; notice how it takes on an almost fictional narrative style when he says “a newsboy dressed in the humblest clothes runs through the subway cars…” And, as in all literature, the author’s own proclivities register between the lines: Papa’s own giving, generous nature, coupled with his own longing for a wife and family, guides his imagination toward idealized images of supportive spouses and cruel fates; as my mother observes, he never entertains thoughts of domestic trouble or H.S.’s culpability.

So he hides from H.S., and I truly believe he did it to spare the man’s feelings (and to spare his reputation for posterity, he hid his full name as well). But if I were directing this scene for a movie and the actor playing my grandfather asked why he was motivated to hide, I might suggest “because you’re similar people from similar backgrounds, and you’re hiding from the thought that you might wind up like him.” H.S. even has the same initials as Papa, almost like a symbolic figure in a Gothic novel, an unwelcome doppelgänger who challenges Papa’s illusions.

Thursday Feb 21

by

Enjoyed dance given by
3rd dist Z.O.A. at the Parkway Palace.

My brother in law received
a summons to court from
the Success School,

My sister came up and
called me to go with her to
the School,

Because I told the School man
twice before that my brother in law
and out of work, he agreed
to teach him English for the
whole term on payments
of $2.00 a week, on account
I gave him the 2nd 5 dollars
I am glad this is off my
head, I will gladly pay for
him every week as he at present
cannot afford it.

—————

Matt’s Notes

I’m not sure where the Parkway Palace or the Third District of the Zionist Organization of America were located, though I’d say any establishment with the word “parkway” in its name was probably in the Bronx. Hopefully I can make it over to the New York Historical Society to look into it a little more…

Of more interest, though, is Papa’s description of his brother-in-law Phil’s problems with the Success School, which was obviously a vocational or language school catering to immigrants. If it had existed in modern times, it probably would have advertised itself on the subway.

I wonder what the atmosphere was like. Was it a second-floor classroom with a sign in the window and a bunch of typewriters sitting on old school desks? Was it close and stuffy, like the sweatshops its students work in? Maybe Papa’s meeting with the “school man” (his English vocabulary must not have included the words “headmaster” or “administrator”) took place in a dark hallway or staircase. It could have even happened in the classroom while class was in session — sounds like the “school man” wanted to get rid of Phil in favor of a full-tuition student, so he might have deliberately made Papa argue right there, thinking he’d be too embarrassed to discuss Phil’s discount arrangement in front of other students.

In any event, Papa’s sense of duty is once again on display as he forks over $5.00 to keep Phil in class (if a previous commenter on this blog has the conversion right, this would be the equivalent of $60 in 2007, which was probably no small chunk of Papa’s salary). My mother says the words “I am glad this is off my head” really jumped out at her because, for Papa, this would have been an over-the-top expression of impatience. But, these are Papa’s private thoughts, and if that’s as annoyed as he got I’m sure no one noticed.

Phil, by the way, was a Russian immigrant who came to America after his first wife “broke her head,” as Phil apparently put it, in a buggy accident. He would outlive three more wives, all of whom, including Papa’s sister Nettie, died under strange circumstances. This earned him the nickname “serial killer” among certain members of my family. According to one story, Phil half-jokingly offered to make Papa’s other sister Clara his fifth wife when she was around eighty. “No,” she replied, “I’m too young to die.”

Friday Feb 22

by

This is Washingtons birthday
which reminds me that his
courage and sacrifice is a
source of inspiration not only
to Americans, but to people
the world over.

After brief visits to both
my sisters this evening,
I listened in to a radio
adress (sic) given by President
Coolidge to the occasion
of Washingtons birthday.

————–

Matt’s notes:

For Papa to make a note about George Washington’s example in his private diary again proves how sincerely he believes in America and in the merits of sacrificing oneself for the greater good. Coolidge echoed these sentiments in his radio address (the transcript is in the New York Times archive) but they feel more genuine coming from Papa (who knows, maybe Coolidge was sincere — I’ve just lost the capacity to be impressed by Presidential speeches after decades of grotesque national politics, and particularly after the last six years of Presidential lies and opportunism.)

As it did for Coolidge’s radio address a few weeks prior, the New York Times reviewed the clarity of the broadcast, reported on atmospheric conditions, and described the logistics associated with carrying the speech to various American Telephone and Telegraph Company radio stations in the Northeast. I mention this just as a reminder of how novel it still was, in February 1924, to hear a President’s voice on the radio.

———–

Update 3/8

Dina writes:

Reading Papa’s thoughts about Washington reminded me that my Zeide, my Dad’s father, also had great American heroes. He admired Lincoln, Helen Keller and I think Walt Whitman! I wonder if it was characteristic, for men of our grandfather’s generation, to hold these historical figures in such high regard because they represented, for them, what was best about America. i will have to ask my Dad if he remembers why Zeide loved these individuals so much.

Reading your grandfather’s entries and your comments has caused me to remember things about my Zeide. He like your Papa loved the theater but I don’t believe that he attended many shows. He did however read plays and as a teen ager I borrowed anthologies from him and read many well known and obscure plays from the 1930’s. My grandfather too was an ardent Zionist but probably less left leaning than Papa. I’ll try to dig up some info on his activities. It would be interesting if their paths crossed as I believe they were more or less contemporaries.

Saturday Feb 23

by

Visited the Goldsteins
(Eve) family in the Bronx
in the afternoon. —

In the evening went to the
Sniatyner ball.

Just once a year this annual
dance affords me the opportunity
to meet my country people my
schoolmates etc. —

How everything has changed
between the old and new worlds,
Like a miracle I’ve seen
almost the whole town of my
early youth before me, —
Men, women old and young
are eager to meet again and
talk of days gone by.

A real renunion. —

——————-

Matt’s Notes

I’m often amazed at how Papa conveys so much emotion in so few words. Even his cheerful account of the Sniatyner ball quietly hums with wistfulness and homesickness, each bright note enfolded in a low, minor chord. He may be sentimental, but his prose style can be a real study in economy.

The Sniatyner Ball was most likely organized by a Sniatyn-oriented landsmanshaft, or mutual aid society geared toward immigrants from the same place (I wrote a bit about landsmanshaftn, and the ways they provided health care, burial services and credit to their members, in an earlier post). I think Papa relied mostly on his fraternal order, B’nai Zion, for these kinds of services, but the Sniatyn landsmanshaft obviously played a part in his life.

Interestingly, the landsmanshaft appears to have survived in the form of the United Sniatyner Sick and Benevolent Society, which still provides benefits and holds regular gatherings for descendants of Sniatyn Jews. (If you want to know more you can write to its president, Michael Steinhorn, at msteinhorn ‘at’ comcast.net.) I’m grateful to them for recently pointing me toward a copy of Papa’s 1917 draft registration form at ancestry.com. Check it out:

photo of Papa's Draft Registration

Some highlights include Papa’s 1917 address (136 Rivington Street) and his workplace (Majestic Neckwear at 44 Walker Street, no doubt where Papa met Tillie, the woman who declared her love for him on the trolley a few weeks back). The form is hard to read so I’m inferring a bit, but it looks like Papa, who was a pacifist, may have courted a bid for ineligibility by pointing out that he had “bad feet” and was the sole supporter of his sister Clara. One family story even has him losing lots of weight before his draft examination so he’d appear sickly and weak, but it’s hard to confirm. Stay tuned.

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