Thursday June 12

by


Visited Mr. & Mrs. Resnick at their home.

Mrs. Resnick is the ideal wife
helps her husband in business

They did not marry out of love
but with the understanding
for mutual respect,

In my impression they seem
very happy, she turned out
the way I expected, although
5 years married, and even
having no children, there is
happiness in the house. She
is the most inspiring life
partner anyone could wish for

Her naivety remains the same
as I’ve found it to be long ago
It’s good to have an example to
look at when I am in the campaign
of finding a wife.

——————-

Matt’s Notes

Until now, Papa’s tendency to idealize women and love itself has made it almost impossible for him to find, in the real world, a woman who does not disappoint him in some way. Yet we know he met his wife-to-be, my “Nana,” in 1925, a year after he wrote this diary, and those of us who knew her remember her as a bit of a hard case. Though attractive, it’s hard to imagine that she fit the description of the dream girl Papa pines for in his diary (in fact, she used to say herself that she didn’t know why he married her).

This means that, at some point during the course of 1924, something started to turn, to shift Papa away from his pursuit of a romantic ideal, to make him understand that, if he was going to spend his life with someone, she was going to be a real person whose imperfections he’d have to live with. This entry, in which he romanticizes the practical partnership of his friends the Resnicks rather than their poetic love story, may be a sign of this development. Papa turns his effusive admiration toward the very lack of love in the Resnick’s house, finds their “mutual respect” to be “inspiring” and admires their collaboration on business matters. He idealizes them, as is his wont, but not in sonnet form.

It’s as if he’s testing a different calculation in which finding someone to whom he can talk his heart out and with whom he can dance all night is not as important as finding someone he can live with. He even refers to his search for a wife as a “campaign,” a far more purposeful take on his romantic pursuits than he’s presented before (I also expect the word “campaign” crept into this entry because the country was now in the thick of the 1924 Presidential race).

Papa has, as we know, vowed to redouble his efforts to marry and carry on his family name since his father died. Is that promise behind his new line of thinking?

Friday June 13

by

And so life goes on,
Today was a quiet day.

Nothing of importance happened
quietly I am doing my
duty to my father by going
to the synagogue to say Kadish,

With my fathers passing
there is really no one in this world
who can give me advice,
My beloved mother (may God
spare her for me) cannot write
and the others of my blood
family do not care even to write
me, Is it because I do not
send them any money, They will
never realize how I am struggling
daily for my very existence, If
they ever did write it was with
a big gimme

—————-

Matt’s Notes

Yesterday Papa tested out a few new ideas about love and marriage, and today he again takes us into unfamiliar territory with the angriest, harshest entry he’s ever written. This isn’t the first time he’s described the financial pressure he gets from his family in the old country or wished they’d understand how little spare money he has, but it is the first time he’s admitted to such exasperation (he usually laments his own inability to help them more when faced with their requests).

It’s almost as if Papa has started squabbling with his siblings in the absence of his wise and stabilizing father, even if he can only do it through his diary. On the other hand, he also uses the same language to describe his own life — “struggling for my very existence” — that he has several times used to describe his father (and we know from previous entries that he thinks he should step into his father’s shoes and take care of his family). So, who is Papa today: A bereft child or struggling breadwinner? I think he’s a little of both, and the clash between those two ways of thinking is making him grouchy.

It’s also interesting to note that Papa tries to spare his mother from his anger in this entry — since she can’t write, she can’t write to ask him for money like everyone else does. I’m not sure why, but he went back later and crossed out the words “cannot write” in pencil; maybe he went back days or weeks or years later and did this because he didn’t want it to be known. In any event, it changes the sentence from “My beloved mother (may God spare her for me) cannot write and the others of my blood family do not care even to write me” to “My beloved mother (may God spare her for me) and the others of my blood family do not care even to write me.” In attempting to spare his mother’s reputation, he inadvertently becomes more critical of her. Does this accident mean anything, or am I just playing amateur psychologist?

Saturday June 14

by

Tonight I went out selling
some flowers for the J.N.F.
on the Annual Flower Day
with some girls.

—————–

Matt’s Notes

If you guessed that “J.N.F.” stands for “Jewish National Fund,” you’re our big winner for the week. The J.N.F. had been around since 1901 to pursue the purchase and forestation of land in Palestine, and they’re still at it today. (I think it’s pretty typical behavior for American Jews to plant a tree in Israel through the J.N.F. in the name of someone who’s just died; honestly, until recently I’d only heard of them for this reason.)

According to A Guide to Zionism, published in 1920 by the Zionist Organization of America, the J.N.F. “instituted a Flower Day at Shabuot time” along with many other fundraising efforts; I imagine people like Papa looked forward to it every year as a way to spend a nice Spring afternoon (and maybe as a way to meet “some girls.”) He didn’t seem to do much else with the J.NF. in the 20’s, though I suppose he got more involved later since he received a certificate from them in the 1950’s in recognition of his efforts on their behalf.

Sunday June 15

by

Spent all afternoon with
the boys at Jack Zichlinskys
house, the occasion was the
brief visit of Friend Wiener

————-

As I’ve mentioned before, the words “Jack Zichlinsky’s house” are comedy gold in my family, since we used to laugh about my grandmother’s tendency to blurt out “Jack Zichlinsky lived there” whenever we drove with her past his building in Sheepshead Bay.

Papa and Jack were both fraternal brothers in the Order Sons of Zion (B’nai Zion) as were many of “the boys” they hung out with. I’m not sure why Papa capitalized “Friend Wiener”; is it just a mistake or was Weiner part of some affiliate organization and therefore deserving of the title “Friend”?

Monday June 16

by


After seeing the baseball game
at Ebbets Field, I went to
Harry Eisenkraft and sat
there until late in the night
conversing.

Ms. Eisenkraft was so kind
to give me a picture of Hymie
Eisencraft (Olam Haba) whom the whole
family has grown to love, because
of his love and kindness for
all, but the unavoidable death
robbed him from us at the
prime of his youth.

Five years after his death
I still find find myself under
the shock because of his early
death.

Blessed be his memory
Shalom [?]

Matt’s Notes

Not a bad day to be at Ebbet’s Field, where the Robins (a.k.a. Dodgers) beat the Cincinnati Reds, 5-2.

I’m not sure who the beloved Hymie Eisencraft was, but Papa must have really felt strongly for him to honor him with the term “Olama Haba” (“I’ll see him in the afterlife”) that he has previously used only in relation to his recently-departed father.

Papa also concludes the entry with another Hebrew tribute, though it’s a bit hard to read. My Hebrew-reading wife, Stephanie, can tell it starts with the word “Shalom,” but the second word is harder to make out. Any ideas?

Update: My friend Inbar, a native Hebrew speaker, thinks this is Shalom Lefro, literally “Goodbye to his ashes.”
—————

Update 10/17/07 – I now have a photo of Hymie Eisenkraft:

This photo comes to me through the grandson of the above-mentioned Harry Eisenkraft, who read about this blog in the October 14th New York Times City section. Papa’s father was likely the brother of Harry’s mother, Sara, who spelled her last name Seuerman (making Papa and Harry cousins). Though Hymie fought in World War I, his untimely death did not come in the trenches; he was killed by an auto in Brooklyn on June 26, 1919, an ironic fate too good for the front page editors of the Brooklyn Eagle to pass up.

The woman Hymie appears with in the photo above is his sister-in-law, Jennie. She was married to Harry and appears with him in the photo below.

Harry had one other brother, Issac Mendel, who Papa mentions in his May 15th entry.

—————

Update 1/11/08

Here’s another picture of Hymie Eisenkraft in the form of a custom-made Rosh Hashanah card:

I’ve written a bit more about this card in a separate post.

—————

References for this post:

ROBINS BEAT RIXEY AND THE REDS, 5-2; Brooklyn Batters Rout Western Invaders With Four-Run Rally in the Eighth. The New York Times, June 17, 1924.

Image Source: Outside Ebbet’s Field, 1920. Library of Congress # LC-B2- 5311-1 .

Tuesday June 17

by

Yesterday and today I
did not work so I went
again to a ball game at
the Polo Grounds.

I am so worried that Netties
baby son is ill, he
is coughing so.

May the Allmighty speed
his recovery.

He is named after beloved
father, May he grow up and
be as good as his Grand-
father, for he and Ruchale
are the only bright spots in
the life of their parents.

—————–

Matt’s Notes

Papa saw the Dodgers (a.k.a. Robins) take another game from the Cincinnati Reds on this day, a 5-4 decision in which Tiny Osborne pitching a complete game for Brooklyn.

Wednesday June 18

by

Nothing important

I am listening in to
sad melodies on the radio
no other music will appeal
to me during my mourning

These classic melodies by
great masters are matched
to my thoughts, something
like lost paradise, the
loss of my father, and my other
many disappointments, –

I am not yet old, and oh God
what I have been trough. (sic)

Vanished dreams, etc.
Does the future hold a little happiness
in store for me?

—————–

Matt’s Notes

I don’t know if the words “lost paradise” are a direct reference to “Paradise Lost,” but I think it’s appropriate here. Despite all he has been through to this point, including his emigration from Eastern Europe at 18 and the struggles he went through to establish a life in New York, Papa sustained himself in part by believing he would one day return to “Paradise” — that is, he would reunite with his family and recapture some of the carefree sense of belonging he once enjoyed. The death of his father put an end to that illusion.

Still, when he asks if the future holds a little happiness for him, I can answer with this picture of his own “Heaven on Earth,” or Paradise found:

And Papa, this is you:

My own version of Paradise lost.

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