Deck the Walls

We recently had the inside of the house painted. The furniture was moved away from the walls and the pictures removed. After the painters completed their work, the furniture was restored to their original places and the pictures replaced on the walls. As this was being done, I thought, “We hang our lives on the walls.” There is my parents’ wedding picture (1924). There is the picture of me on a tricycle at five years of age. In the foyer, there is a picture of an angel embroidered in beads which has an interesting history. Mr. Galperin was an old cabinet make and upholsterer who did work for the ultra wealthy German Jews who lived between North Avenue and Druid Park Drive on Eutaw Place, Madison Avenue and Auchentoroly Terrace.

His shop was three doors from where my father worked. My father picked him up and took him home each day. Of course, my father refused any payment. So Mr. Galperin would make him an occasional piece of furniture. The corner bookcase in Larry’s hall is an example of Mr. Galperin’s work. Mr. Galperin had a wing chair to reupholster and when he stripped the chair, he found this tapestry beneath the upholstery. He fashioned a frame and gave it to my father. It now hangs in my foyer. It was probably hidden there by German Jews who managed to forsee the future and escaped from Hitler’s Germany with their possessions before the Holocaust.

When we first married, we would go to the Peabody Bookstore on Charles Street. From the bookstore, one walked down a hall to a Beer Stube. On the walls of the hall were paintings by budding painters for sale. I fell in love with “Lombard Street.” But Jacob Glushakow wanted $100.00, a princely sum. During the next several months, Momma managed to gather together $100.00 and “Lombard Street” has hung in our living rooms since McHenry Street. “Fremont Avenue,” a painting of an abandoned church also hung at the Peabody and now hangs next to “Lombard Street.”

My diplomas from Johns Hopkins and the University of Baltimore hang in the office along with the certificates admitting me to the Maryland and Baltimore Bars. There are also four group pictures of the family there. Along the front hall hang five family collages which Larry put together. There are also many pictures of children and grandchildren at different ages.

Each time we traveled, we brought back a remembrance, frequently a picture. There is Sloppy Joe’s Bar in Key West, Preservation Hall and Al Hurt’s Club in New Orleans as well as houses in Savannah, Georgia. In a special place, there are pictures of Alex’s Bar Mitzvah at the Wall in Jerusalem where I was privileged to lead the services wearing the T’fillin which belonged to my paternal grandfather, who died in Russia in the early 1900’s.

One wall, at the entrance to the office, holds our civil marriage license, our Ketubah and a 50th Anniversary remembrance. The table behind the sofa is home to several dozen pictures of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Truly, our lives are hung on our walls.

October 21, 2009

We moved into Delray Beach the day before Thanksgiving, 1999. Spyglass was just too small for us. It was some 1200 square feet as opposed to some 1800 square feet in Pine Ridge. Momma had wanted to move so I told her to do what she did when we decided to move before; find a place that you like and if I like it, we’ll buy it. The Seids, who lived next door to us in Spyglass had moved to Pine Ridge. Momma looked at several places there and found and liked the one at 7677 Mansfield Hollow Road. I looked at it, liked it, so we bought it.

Momma joined the Women’s Club and I joined the Men’s Club. We became active and participated in the events which were sponsored by the Clubs. I found the swimming pools which were a delight. We went to restaurants and the theater. We went on a cruise to Alaska after visiting Marc and Leslie in Reno. We spent a good deal of time with the Johnpolls and the Bergs. In 2001, I was volunteered into serving on the Board of Directors of the Homeowners Association. I was handed the checkbook and told, “You are the Treasurer.” I served for nearly seven years, being re-elected each year. We had a full and interesting life.

Disaster struck in October, 2004. When we went somewhere, I would let Momma off as close to the entrance as possible, park the car and then walk back to her and we would go in. I let her off in front of Big Lots and drove off to park. She stepped up, missed the curb and fell flat on her face. 911 was called and she was transported to Delray Medical Center. Over the next three years, she was in and out of three hospitals and two rehabilitation centers. I cannot count the number of hours that the Bergs, the Johnpolls and I spent in waiting rooms and patient’s rooms. Momma fell in one rehabilitation center and suffered a hairline fracture in her right femur, necessitating a stay in a hospital. She was transported in a wheel chair after her discharge from the final rehabilitation center until we discovered the four-wheeled walker which she presently uses. An Aide come in four hours each weekday morning and helps Momma in addition to light housekeeping. I have become the chef, launderer, shopper and accountant. By the middle of 2008, my diminished hearing and eyesight in addition to increased caregiver duties mandated that I give up my role on the Board of Directors and Treasurer. I resigned and am glad that I did.

We go out primarily to visit doctors. Yet we have still managed to get to Baltimore twice in the past year. Life is good. We have each other and we see our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I can’t believe that there are thirty-six of us. We are, and have good reason to be, so proud of their accomplishments and the way they lead their lives.

Shopping - How We Got Stuff

Today we get in the car or SUV and go shopping. We go to the mall, the shopping center or the big box stores. We have droves of catalogues delivered to our mail boxes and we can shop online. There are plenty of places to shop. In the late 1920’s and early and mid 30’s most people rode the street cars and there was no Internet. Many people did not have a telephone. My mother shopped by mail. She sent a penny postcard to the grocer ONE BLOCK AWAY! There were two mail deliveries each day She gave the post card to the mailman at the first delivery, he delivered it to the grocer at the second delivery, and the grocer filled and delivered the order, all in one day!

Few people had electric refrigerators. Mr. Pratt was our iceman. He came each day with his helper, Jim, in a truck delivering ice to the houses. A card was placed in the window with the sixe needed. Mr. Pratt would cut a piece from a huge chunk and catch it between tongs. The tongs were like a huge scissors with hooks on each end. Jim would bring it in and put it in the icebox. As the ice melted during the day, the water would run down a tube to a pan under the icebox which needed to be emptied each day. Mr. Pratt would give us kids ice ships which fell off as he cut the ice to size. That was a treat!

Salesmen plied their trade door-to-door. The famous Fuller Brush Man came to homes with an astounding array of brushes; toothbrushes, hair brushes, upholstery brushes, dish washing brushes, pain brushes; you name it, they carried it! A man came around to sharpen knives, scissors and other instruments which needed sharpening. He had a sharpening wheel mounted like a wheelbarrow and he walked the streets.

Milk and dairy products were delivered daily. Milk came in glass quarts with a cardboard cap fitted in a slot around the top. In the winter the milk froze and a column of frozen milk pushed the cap up. It tasted like unsweetened ice cream. The milkman also carried sliced white bread which no self respecting Jew would eat. We called it Kvatch. We got our challah, pumpernickel and rye from Stone’s and Wartzman’s on Lombard Street.

During the summer, the Ayrabbers came around, prowling the streets and alleys shouting their wares. They were black men who drove a horse and wagon. They sold in-season produce directly to the housewives. The watermelon man would shout in a sing-song manner, “Sweet and red to the rind.” The strawberry man would sing out, Straw-aw-aw-aw berries.” One Ayrabber sold fresh fish. He would clean your purchase right there on the street.

We had a coal furnace and coal was delivered directly to a coal bin in the basement. The bin was next to the furnace and directly below a cellar window. If the coal truck could park near the window, a chute was extended from the truck through the window into the coal bin and coal was shoveled down the chute. If not, the coal was loaded into canvas bags and walked from the truck to the basement window where it was dumped down the chute. Later the furnace was converted to an oil burner and oil was delivered through a long hose to the tank in the basement which stood where the coal bin once had been.

Would we like to go back to the good old days? Never in a million years!

What If...

It is fascinating how one small insignificant event can alter the course of history. In the late 1960s, George P. Mahoney was a politically connected paving contractor in Maryland. He incurred the enmity of Governor Millard J. Tawes, who literally hated him. Mahoney was a horse racing enthusiast who coveted the relatively insignificant position of Racing Commissioner of Maryland. This position was an appointment of the Maryland Governor who hated Mahoney and refused to appoint him. Mahoney swore revenge and became active politically. In 1968, Thomas B. Finan was the Democratic candidate for governor. Mahoney ran as an Independent and split the Democratic vote. As a result, one Spiro Agnew, an obscure Baltimore School Board member, was elected Governor of Maryland. When he was selected to be Richard Nixon’s running mate for Vice President of the United States, Marvin Mandel, Speaker of the Maryland House of Delegates was elected to replace him. At that time Maryland did not have a Lieutenant Governor and a vacant Governor’s position was filled by election by the House of Delegates. The Baltimore Sun disagreed with Mandel’s agenda and pursued a vendetta, culminating in his conviction on charges of, among others, bribery. Mandel appealed the conviction which was reversed by the Supreme Court. Mandel was released from prison and re-instated as Governor, completing his term.

What if Governor Tawes had appointed Mahoney to the position of Racing Commissioner? Would Thomas B. Finan be elected Governor? Would Spiro Agnew ever rise from the obscurity of the Baltimore County School Board and subsequently become Vice President of the United States? Would Marvin Mandel ever become Governor of Maryland, be convicted of bribery and be exonerated by the Supreme Court?

One small, insignificant action changed many lives and events.

Life Decisions

It is 1945 and there were some life decisions to be made. There were those of us who had been in the military service for as much as five years. We were in our early to mid-twenties. A grateful government helped us to implement, not make those decisions, with the GI Bill. Four years of college tuition and books plus a monthly stipend were provided to those who wanted a college education. Assistance in purchasing a home was available. Compensation was available for those who wanted to work but could not find a job. Some just wanted just to lay back and do nothing now. All of us wanted to get on with our lives. A chunk of our lives had been spent in the military service and we wanted to make up for that time in a big hurry. My decision was to accept the college tuition and get the degree in as short a period as possible. And while doing this, there was an opportunity to live the college campus life; parties, athletics, etc. I definitely knew that I did not want to return to Pharmacy School. At this age and with my experiences during the past two years, I was able to resist my Father and make my own decision as to my future. Johns Hopkins University was the best college in the Baltimore area and this would allow me to live at home. In 1945, there was no pressure on young adults to “get your own place.” Economics interested me so I enrolled in the School of Business with a major in accounting. This was a wise move in that it gave me the knowledge to make good financial decisions throughout my life.

Few high school graduates at age eighteen are equipped to make decisions affecting their path for the rest of their lives. And this is not a bad thing. Many are pressured by parents and end up changing careers in midlife. Many “fall into something.” I could no find a suitable job in 1949 (we were in the midst of a recession) so we bought the store. My experience working in supermarkets prior to 1942 and my financial education were vital to the success of the store. When I got involved in politics, I “fell into” a job with the State of Maryland which lasted for 25 years. And when I was required to make legal decisions, I took a few law courses which led to a law degree and a member of the Maryland Bar. For some of us, we make that life decision early in life. We know that from childhood, we want to be a doctor or a dentist or whatever. But most of us are guided by circumstance to become what we ultimately become. We “fall into” something. We find a job because we know someone who knows someone who has an uncle who owns a business and is looking for an employee. And it turns out to be our life’s vocation. Think about your present job and your interests. You probably “fell into it” and it may turn out to be your life’s vocation.

Ashford General Hospital

The Greenbrier Resort at White Sulfur Springs, West Virginia was owned by the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad and frequented by the “best families.” It was the playground of the rich and famous. It was commandeered by the United States government and became Ashford General Hospital. I arrived there on D-Day, June 6, 1944. Four patients occupied each room. With me was Bob Zamaria, married from Meadville, Pennsylvania; Leo, street smart from Detroit and I do not remember the other patient. I was not completely ambulatory and spent much time sitting on the bed with playing cards. There were no televisions or computers. We were free to use the facilities of the resort. Tennis, golf and horseback riding were available. The grounds were immaculately kept by German Prisoners of War. They wore fatigues with a big POW stenciled on the back. We had no contact with them. There was entertainment every evening; movies and USO entertainers. Those of us who were not ambulatory were pushed in wheel chairs. There were many amputees and paraplegics. I can remember only one entertainer. He came out with a straw hat and a cane and did a soft shoe tap dance. When he finished, he sat on a chair, pulled up a pants leg and removed the lower part of his leg. He hopped off with the device over his shoulder. You could almost hear the amputees thinking, “If he can dance with that thing, I can sure as hell walk with it!” I suppose that is why he performed there.

Ambulatory patients were required to do calisthenics and/or work. When it was discovered that I went to Pharmacy School for a year, I was sent to the Pharmacy. I was put to work making cod liver oil capsules. Drugs did not come like they do now. They were made in the Pharmacy from powders and liquids. Some drugs were ground into powder in a mortar with a pestle. I had a bowl of this evil smelling cod liver oil, an eye dropper (small syringe) and a box of empty capsules. I took apart the capsule, filled the syringe with cod liver oil, put it in one part of the capsule and then “put the lid on.” I had to be very careful because it was difficult to wash away the smell.

One day we were given the choice of calisthenics or picking apples for a farmer. Those of us who chose apple picking were driven to a farm. We wore our pajamas and robes. I fear that we ate more apples than we picked. We were all under twenty years of age.

I got along very well with the Pharmacist and he invited me to spend Christmas, 1944 with him and his family in Selma, West Virginia. We took the train on Christmas Eve to the large town just outside of Selma and rode a bus to Selma. It was a biter cold night and the snow made seeing the road difficult. We went up a winding road to Selma. Had I seen the road, I never would have gotten into that bus. We came back several days later during the day and I discovered that the road ran along a mountain with a sheer drop on one side of the road. I was a city boy and amazed to find livestock wandering in the streets of Selma; not the suburbs but downtown.

Two lumbar sympathectomies were performed. The lumbar nerves which controlled the flow of blood to the lower extremities were cut. Trench foot causes the contracting of blood vessels in the feet. It was thought that gravity would pull more blood through the blood vessels. This procedure made my feet warm and dry and allowed me to be ambulatory. I was transferred to the Medical Corps and put to work in the Hospital. Bob Zamaria and I were assigned to the admitting office, four to midnight shift. We were assigned quarters in the employee’s quarters, two to a room. Bob and I would report to the Admitting Office at 4:00 P.M. When patients arrived we would do the paperwork to admit them and send them to their assigned room. If there were no admittees, we played cribbage. At six o’clock, one of us went to the movie. At eight o’clock, the other one went to the movie. At eleven o’clock we went to the mess hall for dinner. At midnight we went to our quarters. We were free until four o’clock the next day. And we had few admittees during our shift. It was a good life.

This good life ended with VE Day. Planning for the invasion of Japan was beginning and hordes of infantrymen were needed. I was transferred to the Infantry and sent to Fort Jackson for advanced infantry training. I found the training physically impossible and the Army agreed. After a stay in the Fort Jackson Hospital, I was transferred to Camp Atterbury, Indiana, for a Medical Discharge. I was discharged on August 2, 1945. I was 20 years, 4 months old.

The Army

I was inducted into the Army on August 23, 1943, age 18 years, six months. I had never been more than 25 miles away from home except for two family trips; one to Masontown, Pennsylvania and one to Atlantic City. I reported to the Fifth Regiment Armory on Preston Street together with a group of mostly eighteen year olds. We went by bus to Fort Lee, Virginia where we were sworn in and outfitted with uniforms and equipment. I was sent to Fort Benning, Georgia for Infantry Basic Training. I was assigned to a platoon commanded by one Sergeant Boyarsky. I do not recall him as being the rough, gruff drill sergeant. We learned to shoot, rifles and carbines. The rifles were an Enfield and a Garand (M-6) The Enfield was a World War I rifle, single shot and heavy. The M6 would shoot as long as you held the trigger and there were bullets in the clip, of course. We learned to use a bayonet and hand to hand combat. Can you imagine sticking another man with a long knife and killing him? Are these people crazy? Can you imagine learning many ways to kill another human being? And being required to do it because the opposing soldier was trying to do the same to you? Are these people crazy?

And we marched, and we marched and we marched. The soil was sandy at Fort Benning and did not retain the heat of the day. When we woke in the morning, it was cold enough to wear a field jacket. As the day grew on, the heat increased and we shed clothing which were then carried on person. We were billeted in an outpost of Fort Benning in wooden barracks which slept forty men, a platoon. Everything was done the Army way; beds and footlocker made and packed identically according to specifications. The barracks were kept CLEAN. And, of course, there was KP, Kitchen Patrol. I can recall peeling mounds of potatoes until it was discovered that I knew how to cut meat. Then my KP duties were limited to that task. (From this experience, I deduced that everything that is learned may eventually become useful). I had never eaten a non-kosher meal before I went into the Army but I quickly learned. I could never eat mutton, however and with most of my buddies, lined up at the Post Exchange (PX) on mutton nights.

After the first month we were given week-end passes. On the first one, I went with two buddies to Columbus, Georgia. We went into a restaurant for breakfast. As we sat down at the counter, the waitress put a small dish of white stuff. This stuff was grits, pronounced gree-its; two syllables. Grits were not ordered; they were served with each and every meal.

After Basic Training I was sent to the University of Maine, Orono, Maine to participate in the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP). We took college courses. I had taken all the courses at Poly and Pharmacy School so I learned nothing new. I was there November, December, 1943 and January, 1944. I can remember nothing but bitter cold and snow and ice. I will never be convinced that there is earth in Maine! We would spray water over a field and had an ice skating rink in the morning. With planning for D-Day in June, 1944, and the coming need for hordes of Infantrymen, the ASTP became expendable. I was sent to Fort Jackson, South Carolina for advanced infantry training, to the 29th Division. I was nineteen years old. We were sent on maneuvers in Tennessee in March 1944. It was cold and raining every day. We never got dry. I can remember lining up in the morning for hot coffee in a metal canteen cup. The coffee was so hot it burned the lips. But it was so welcome. Conditions were made as difficult as possible in anticipation of combat conditions. We wore the same clothes for weeks. Our feet were never dry. Here I contracted trench foot, which is extreme frostbite. I could not walk for the pain and was sent to a field hospital, the Fort Jackson Hospital and finally, Ashford General Hospital, White Sulfur Springs, West Virginia. On D-Day, June 6, 1944, I was in Richmond, Virginia, enroute to White Sulfur Springs.

My Father Loved Baseball

My Father loved baseball. During the early 1930’s on Sunday afternoon during the baseball season, we would watch the Pimlico All-Stars play a double header. We would walk north on Hamlin Avenue, cross Rogers Avenue to the playing field which was at the eastern end of the property where Pimlico Middle School is now located. There were a few rickety stands. We would sit on the outfield grass just outside the foul line. There was no charge to watch but a hat was passed around for donations to defray expenses. We stayed until dinner time. My father never engaged in any sport; he thought it a waste of time. Whenever he found me playing, his expression was, “Nor mit dem ball. (Only with the ball.)” You must remember that this was the time of the Great Depression and William had a wife, three children and sundry assorted relatives to support. There was no time for ball.


I discovered the Baltimore Orioles in 1937 at age 12. They played in the Triple AAA International League. At that time, minor league teams were owned outright or had working agreements with major league teams. The Orioles were independently owned by the Dunn family and had a working agreement with the New York Giants of the National League. The Giants would option players to the Orioles for the season and were, in turn, allowed to choose two players at the end of the season. The League was dominated by the Newark Bears who were the farm club of and owned outright by, who else, the New York Yankees! 1937 was a year when the Yankee line-up read Gehrig, DiMaggio, Dickey, and a dozen equally exceptional players. Major league quality players could be and were kept in the minors indefinitely. The Bears had two catchers, Willard Hershberger and Buddy Rosar who could play on any major league team. They could not displace Bill Dickey, so the Yankees kept them in Newark and Newark won the pennant by 40 games each year. It’s no wonder we hated the Yankees!


In 1937, the Orioles were in last place on the Fourth of July. They were coached by Guy Sturdy with Les Power on first, (I don’t remember the second baseman), Mickey Witek at shortstop and Smokey Joe Martin on third. Smokey Joe always lost his cap when he ran the bases. The outfield was patrolled by George Puchinello, Ab Wright and Woody Abernathy. The catcher was Bucky Crouse and two pitchers were Bill Lohrman and Hy Vandenberg. On July Fourth, Guy Sturdy was fired as manager and Bucky Crouse took over. Play improved and the team finished in fourth place, enough to qualify for the playoffs. In the first round, the Orioles played the Bears, best of seven games. I wish that I could report that the Orioles beat the Bears. The Bears won the seventh game by a run and the O’s were eliminated. But it made me a fan for life.


Oriole Park was on Greenmount Avenue just above North Avenue. Games were played in the afternoon. I went to Baltimore Polytechnic High School on North Avenue and after school let out at 2:30. we would walk to Oriole Park. Sometimes a gatekeeper would let us in because it was already the seventh or eight inning. This was still the depression and we had no money for tickets. I graduated Poly in February, 1941, just ten months before Pearl Harbor. Oriole Park burned down in 1944, the year the Orioles finally beat the Newark Bears and won the Little World Series.

I was admitted to the Maryland Bar in 1976 and shortly after, we sold the store and the building in which we spent more than a quarter century. Momma walked out of the store and swore that she would never work another day in her life. This lasted about two weeks and she let it be known that she was looking for a job. Arnold did business with a storage and moving company, Economy Delivery, Inc. The lady who worked in the office was pregnant and was leaving soon. Arnold spoke to the owner, Vincent Horan, who told Arnold to have Momma come in. She worked there until she retired in 1992. The office and warehouse was located off of Reisterstown Road where the railroad bridge crosses it. It was back along the road which runs East alongside the railroad tracks. It was small and cramped but Momma loved it. She accessed all of her knowledge about how to run a successful business and applied it to Economy Delivery, Inc. The business prospered and moved several times to larger and larger quarters. When Momma reached 65 years of age, she retired. We have remained close friends with Vince and Barbara Horan and keep in touch with then to this day. I suspect that Momma did not want to retire but I had retired two years earlier and this was our chance to do things that we never had time to do during our lives.

About 1989 (I am not certain of the date) all the children were out of the house on their own. It was time to dispose of Byers Court and move on. We were not certain that we would like apartment living so we decided to rent. Ingram Manor was an old apartment building at Park Heights and Slade Avenues owned by Howard Brown. He was rehabilitating the building, apartment by apartment. We looked at an apartment on the fourth floor which was perfect for our needs; living room, dining room, kitchen, two bedrooms, two baths, a den and a balcony. It was not completely rehabilitated but Brown promised to complete the work quickly. He did not keep his promises. We continuously had problems with the air conditioning and the stove and the refrigerator. There was one passenger elevator and one service elevator. They worked and did not work. I spent a good amount of time calling about the deficiencies. I finally went to his office and sat until he would talk to me. It did not help much. We had a lease that expired in June, but in March, we received a letter from Brown demanding that we move immediately. We did with alacrity. Shortly after, we received a letter from his attorney demanding rent for the months until June. I made a copy of Brown’s letter demanding that we move out and sent it to the lawyer. We never heard from him again.

We discovered that we liked apartment living but did not like renting. We discovered the Elmont 12 blocks South of Ingram Manor on Park Heights Avenue. It had the same number of rooms. We lived there on the fourth floor until 1997. Mott and Lucille Stanchfield lived in our villa in Tamarac until 1994. When they moved out and we completely rehabilitated the place, we would go down for various periods of time. We bought a used Dodge Lancer and kept it there so that we would have two vehicles. There were times when we would spend several months there during the years. I tried and tried to convince Momma to sell the Elmont and move to Florida permanently. She resisted. One night we ate Chinese and when we opened up the fortune cookies, they both contained the same message, “You will soon move to a warmer clime.” Claude was transferred to Coral Springs, Florida and the rest of his family would soon follow. Momma relented and we sold the Elmont and we became residents of Florida on January 2, 1997. We took the auto train with our two vehicles to Florida. The villa was small, 1200 square feet and we felt cramped. Momma wanted to move to larger quarters. I used the same formula; go look, find a place you like and if I like it, we’ll buy it. Our next door neighbor in Tamarac moved to Delray Beach. We looked at several homes there and found 7677 Mansfield Hollow Road. And best of all, it was a house. It was 1820 square feet and suited us perfectly. There was a living room, dining room, kitchen, two bedrooms, two full baths, a den and an office. There was a large screened patio which overlooked a lake. There was also a one-car garage. We moved in the day before Thanksgiving, 1999. Momma was 72 years of age and I was 74.

We moved into Merville Avenue in May, 1959 and lived there until just before Thanksgiving, 1973. Amy was enrolled in Pamlico Middle School located at park Heights Avenue and Northern Parkway. Late one Friday afternoon Larry was driving home up Northern Parkway when he saw five black girls chasing two white girls. He saw long black hair streaming behind one of the white girls. It was his sister, Amy. He stopped the car and scattered the chasers. That evening when Momma came home and learned of the incident, she proclaimed, “We’re moving!” Sunday, a realtor that we knew, Richard Goodman, came to Merville Avenue and we put the house up for sale. I told Momma, “Look for a house and when you find one you like, I’ll go look at it. If I like it, we’ll buy it.” She found 3 Byers Court in Randallstown. When I walked in, I knew that this was it! It was located at the head of a court on ¾ of an acre. It had a full basement, a living room, dining room, kitchen, family room and den on the first floor and four bedrooms on the second floor. It also had two and a half baths. Sliding doors opened from the family room onto a deck. With what we received for Merville Avenue we were able to pay for the house without financing. Most of the children were on their own and did not live there. In warm weather, all gathered for Sunday brunch and to play volley ball in the back yard. I built a room in the basement where Larry and David returned to live periodically.

I had my first heart attack in April, 1982. Momma’s Aunt and Uncle, Sarah and Lou Music owned a condo in Tamarac, Florida. They offered to allow us to use it. We went to Florida in the late summer of 1982. One morning, we drove to the shopping center at Commercial and University Boulevards. We walked around looking in the windows of the stores. We stopped at a real estate office and looked at pictures of properties that were for sale. A salesman came out and asked, “Would you like to look at some properties? I’ll be glad to show you some.” We had nothing to do so we got in his car. He showed us several condos which did nothing for us. We had no intention of buying anything. He drove down a road and pulled into a development to turn around. “We like these,” I said. The homes were villas: five one story row houses. He said, “There are none for sale now, but I sold one several months ago and I am certain that you could look at it.” The villa had a kitchen, living room, dining room, two bedrooms, two full baths and a garage. I gave him my card and said, “Call me when one is for sale.” I never thought I would hear from him again. Several months later he called to say that he had one for sale. I asked my brother, Marvin to look at it and if the price was good, to buy it. We bought it sight unseen. We went to dinner with cousins and told them about the purchase. I needed financing so I asked if they could recommend a bank. How much do you need?” he asked. “About $35,000.00,” I replied. “I’ll loan it to you,” he said. “No interest. Pay me when you can.” I was flabbergasted! Several weeks later we needed the money and after dinner, we went to their home. From the closet, he brought several shoe boxes full of ten and twenty dollar bills. Momma and my cousin sat at the kitchen table and counted out $35,000.00! We put it in a shopping bag and that’s how carried it to the settlement! The property came with a tenant and they wanted to live there. I wrote to them and told them that as long as they did not cause me any expense, the rent would not be increased. Mott and Lucille Stanchfield stayed until 1994. We never saw them or talked to them. Mott would write and say that the living/dining room needed painting and if I would pay for the paint, he would do the painting. I told him to buy the paint and take the price off of the rent check and put the receipt in with it. That is how we did it for twelve years. In 1994, Mott called and told us that Lucille had been transferred to Melbourne, Florida and they had to move. When we walked into the house, my heart fell. The carpet was threadbare, wisps of drapes hung from the windows and the appliances were a disaster. We cleaned everything out, from the concrete floors to the popcorn ceiling. We bought all new appliances and decided not to rent it. We furnished it and used it periodically until 1997 when we sold the condo in the Elmont and moved permanently to Florida.

I Become A Lawyer

At this point, I would like to ask our children, all thirteen of them, to contribute their stories and not wait until they are eighty-four years old. I am certain that their children would find them interesting.

When Bill Welsh found me in the Speaker’s office in early 1966, he was there to ask that a bill be introduced. Each year, for the past several years, he attempted to enact a law which would give the Division the authority to collect wages for employees who worked and were not paid the wages due. I had become friendly with many members of the Legislature. Among them were Alex Resnick, the Delegate from the 5th District in Baltimore City and Joseph Long, the State Senator from Salisbury on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. With the help of the Speaker’s secretary, Grace Donald and Alex Resnick and Joe Long, the bill was enacted and signed by the Governor. It was assigned to the Employment Standards Service for enforcement. The Chief, Arthur Williams, had no idea how to do this. I was called into the office to devise procedures. I created two forms; one a detailed form which gave a wage-hour investigator all the information needed to investigate and a second form with the bare essentials. The short form was sent was sent to the employer together with a letter. The letter told the employer that a claim had been filed by an employee or ex-employee that he had worked and was not paid the wages due. If the employer agreed that the wages were due, send a check and resolve the matter. If a check was not received within ten days, a wage-hour investigator would be at the employer’s place of business on (date) and (time) to discuss and resolve the claim. The workload of the Service greatly increased. At the time of my retirement in 1990, more than a million dollars was collected annually for employees who had filed claims. I was anxious to get back on the street where I could be back in the store by early afternoon.

When I became Chief in 1969 one of my duties was to interpret the laws assigned to the Service. For example; the Wage Collection Law applied to employees and employers. I was required to decide who was an employee and who was an independent contractor to whom the law did not apply. When I had questions, I would call one of my friends who was a lawyer. I hesitated to do this. When I discussed this with Momma, she suggested that I enroll in Law School and take a few courses until I could make these decisions without the assistance of my lawyer friends. So I enrolled in the Law School at the University of Baltimore. I began by taking two courses twice each week, at night. I left the office on Preston Street at 4:30 and walked over to the University of Baltimore on Charles Street. Momma picked me up at 10:00 o’clock, two evenings each week. At the end of the semester, I took two more courses and then two more courses. Suddenly, in 1975, I had eighty credits, enough to graduate and take the Bar Exam. I was in no hurry: becoming a member of the Bar would not increase my employment status. I took the Bar Exam in 1976 and was sworn in later that year. The swearing in was conducted at the Court of Appeals in Annapolis. Each new lawyer was given two tickets for guests to attend. I took Momma and Amy. After the ceremony, we walked to the State House and the Governor’s Office. Marvin Mandel had become Governor and Grace Donald had become the Governor’s Secretary. Unfortunately Marvin was not there but Grace took Amy into the Governor’s office and Amy sat in the Governor’s Chair behind the Governor’s desk. I showed Grace the Certificate I received and she offered to have it framed. It hangs over my desk on Mansfield Hollow Road.

By 1976, most of the children had moved into their own homes and apartments. My salary was sufficient and we no longer needed the earnings of the Kenmar Food Market. We sold the store and the building at 301 South Stricker Street and a new door opened for Momma.

Restless

Working in the General Assembly during the 1965 session introduced me to a new world. I became restless. The store was boring! There was no challenge. We had come as far as we could go with the store. Larry and Arnold were 15 years old and were a big help in the store. Momma said, “Why don’t you look into a State job?” So I called Marvin Mandel and he sent me to Henry Miller, Commissioner of Labor and Industry. Henry Miller sent me to William R. Welch, Deputy Commissioner. The Division was run by the Deputy Commissioner. The Commissioner came into the office a couple of times during the week. He had a thriving law practice and spent the vast majority of his time there. Bill Welch told me that I had to take a test. So I took the test and scored 105. A veteran got an extra ten points but they deducted five points because I spelled my name wrong; I left out the “d.” On the day before Thanksgiving, 1965, I reported for work at the State Office Complex on Preston Street, mezzanine floor. I was a wage-hour investigator. My duties, among others, were to visit places of business and examine the payroll records to insure that the minimum wage was being paid. The Chief, Arthur Williams was an old State employee who was Chief because he was the oldest Safety inspector and the only one who resided in the Baltimore area. The other three wage-hour investigators worked and lived in Hagerstown, Crisfield and Southern Maryland. The wage-hour investigators did not come into the office. All assignments and reports were sent to the office by mail. This was perfect! I would open the store at seven, Momma would get the children off to school, and come to the store about ten o’clock. I would go out and complete a day’s work by one o’clock and come back to the store. Momma would go home sometimes in the afternoon and I would stay and close the store at seven. Perfect!!!

One Monday afternoon in early 1966, I went to Annapolis to visit my friends, Marvin Mandel’s secretaries in the Speakers office. Who should walk in but Bill Welch, the Deputy Commissioner. “What are you doing here?” he asked. I stammered, “I finished up an audit and it was too late to start another here in Annapolis so I though that I would visit my friends in the Speaker’s Office. Let me introduce you.” To have friends in the Speaker’s office was a big, big thing because all legislation went through the Speaker’s office. When, a few years later, I wanted a bill heard, Grace Donald picked up the phone, called the Chairman of that committee, and said,” Marvin wants this bill heard as soon as possible.” Marvin never even heard of the bill! So I grew ten feet taller in Bill Welch’s estimation. Anyone who had the ear of the secretaries was a definite asset.

Then, in 1968, disaster struck for Arthur Williams and another door was opened for me. Arthur had diabetes and did not take care of himself. He was rushed to the hospital and he never returned. I was made acting Chief and on January I, 1969, became Chief, Employment Standards Service where I remained until June 30, 1990. This posed a problem because it was an 8:30 to 4:30 job. Momma had to come to the store earlier and leave later. I opened the store at seven, Momma came and I went to work. She stayed until I got back. I was late to work often and left early often. The Service now operated on complaints only and was very efficient. So as long as the Deputy Commissioner did not receive complaints from our complainers, I was left alone, especially with my influence in Annapolis. On Saturday, Larry and Arnold would come to the store with me. They would go to services at a store-front shul on Baltimore Street. Larry became 13 years old and when they found out, the next Saturday he was called to the Torah. The first time a boy is called to the Torah, he is Bar Mitzvah. So Larry was Bar Mitzvah in than store-front shul on Baltimore Street. Marc would come to the store with me on Sunday morning. Risa, Phyllis and Amy helped in the house. Everybody helped. They had to!

Change of Life

One event may make vast changes in our lives. Such an event occurred when Charlie Oberman walked through the door of the Kenmar Food Market. A food product moved from the Manufacturer to the Food Broker to the wholesaler to the Food Market to the Consumer. Charlie Oberman was a Representative of a Food Broker. He would travel to Food Markets and sell the food products represented by the Food Broker. Charlie had a brother, Irving (known as “Obie’). Obie was the driver and “gopher” for Samuel N. Friedel, United States Congressman for the Fifth Congressional District of Maryland. Samuel N. Friedel and Marvin Mandel, the Delegate from the Fifth District to Maryland State House of Delegates operated the Crosstown Democratic Club whose sole purpose was to elect and re-elect Sam and Marvin. Charlie Oberman introduced me to the Crosstown Democratic Club. We met every Tuesday evening in a long room above a saloon on Park Heights Avenue just south of Hayward Avenue. Every candidate for political office who ran in the Fifth District came to the Crosstown to seek support; from governors to United States Senators down through Baltimore City Councilmen, they all came to the Crosstown. Meeting these important people was pretty heady stuff for a grocer from Stricker Street. David Kramer was the President of the Crosstown. He wasn’t a white collar worker: he was a black collar worker. He worked for a rag processor and got pretty dirty. Dave was a smart, articulate man so Sam Friedel got him a Federal job promoting United States Government Bonds. But Dave now came within the jurisdiction of the Hatch Act which prohibited Federal employees to be officers of a political club. Dave asked me to become President of the Crosstown. I was terrified! I had never even spoken to a group but Dave promised me his full support. So I became president for two terms. Part of the job was to introduce the candidates who came to the Crosstown. Among many others, I introduced Governor Millard Tawes and Senator Sarbanes and a candidate for the Baltimore City Council, one William Donald Schaeffer. Pretty heady stuff for a grocer from Stricker Street. Sometimes I would bring Larry and Arnold to the meetings.

Sam Friedel began his campaign for re-election the day after he was elected. Whenever a Crosstown member spoke with a family member or friend he reminded them to vote for Sam. We put signs on our vehicles and in our front yards and in our friend’s and neighbor’s front yards and windows. One year I drove Sam to the many Democratic Clubs on Belair Road along the Eastern border of Baltimore. They were usually located in a tavern. Sam would go in, buy a couple rounds of drinks and shake hands with everyone. He would, of course, also have a couple of drinks. By the end of the evening, Sam was feeling no pain. He was feeling nothing! On Election Day, we would man the polls, distributing literature to the voters. On election night, we would gather at the Crosstown to monitor the results. It was so different from the Kenmar Food Market.

The Kenmar Food Market was very successful. We had pretty much all the business within a radius of about three blocks and had expanded as much as was physically possible. I had looked into buying a small supermarket, but when examining the financial records, I found that the net annual profit was no greater than that of the Kenmar Food Market. It was simply a lot more work for the same money. The operation was now almost automatic. I was restless.

I asked Marvin Mandel if I could work for the Maryland Legislature during the 1965 Session. Marvin had been elected Speaker of the House of Delegates. A loyal member of the club was awarded “time” as a reward for his work. He would go to Annapolis, swear in as an employee, never go back and receive a check for 10 days work, $100.00. Marvin said, “ Sure, I’ll put you on for ten days.” “No”, I replied. “I want to work.” “Okay,” he said. “Come to my office on opening day and we’ll work something out.” So on opening day, I went to the office of the Speaker of the House of Delegates and met Grace Donald and Laura Rowell, secretaries to the Speaker of the Maryland House of Delegates. I became the Administrative Assistant to the Speaker.

And through all this, the Kenmar Food Market operated. Momma spent many hours in the store as did Larry and Arnold. The other children helped in the house. We all worked together. I don’t believe we knew what we were doing; we just did it!

Passover

For some 45 0r 50 years we made Pesach in our home. We cleansed the house of chometz and ate only foods that were certified “kosher for Passover.” We conducted a seder the first two nights. Our parents, grandparents, our children and always one or more family members or guests came. I conducted the service and Momma served the foods she had prepared for days. As our family grew, the attendees grew and there were usually at least thirty of us. As we grew older, we attended seders conducted by our children for their children. Because that is really the purpose of the seder; to teach the children that Avodim hoyenu l’Pharoh b’Mitryim: we were slaves to Pharoh in Egypt and to explain how we were brought out by the strong hand and outstretched arm of the Lord.

The service really begins when the young child asks why this night is different than all the other nights. Why can’t we eat challah and Jewish rye (with seeds, of course) and rolls with onions baked through them? Why do we have to eat this tasteless dry matzoh? And why do we have to eat this bitter stuff dipped in salt water instead of peas and corn and baked beans? And what is this charoseth stuff? And how come I don’t have to sit up straight but can lean to the side and relax? And what’s that piece of bone on that plate along with an egg and that other stuff?

Father holds up the piece of matzoh and explains that this is the “bread of affliction” eaten by the Hebrew slaves in Egypt. Joseph had risen from a slave to second in command to Pharoh and had invited his entire family of Hebrews to come to Egypt to live. They were few in numbers at the time. But over the years they prospered and grew. Pharoh died and another Pharoh ruled. He became afraid of the Hebrews; afraid that they would seize power and his throne. So he confiscated their property and enslaved them. The bitter stuff symbolizes the bitter life they led. The salt water symbolizes they tears that they shed. The charoseth symbolizes the mortar that they used to build cities for Pharoh. And we sit leaning and relaxed because that is how free people eat: relaxed and not fearful of the overseer’s whip.

Father goes on to tell how the Lord chose Moses to free the Hebrews and lead them out of Egypt to the “promised land.” How Pharoh refused to “let my people go!” How ten plagues were visited upon the people of Egypt. And how Pharoh agreed to allow the Hebrews to go out of Egypt only after the tenth plague which killed the first born of every living Egyptian and their beasts. That piece of bone is there so that we remember the lamb that was slaughtered and the blood of which was smeared on the door post of each Hebrew home so that the angel of death would “Passover” that home on the night of the killing of the first born. That is why we put a mezuzah on our door post. We remember the ten plagues by spilling a drop of wine for each plague. The Hebrews had to get out in a hurry and did not have time to let the dough rise for the bread that they were making. So they packed it up and carried it in the broiling sun. It baked into the hard stuff we now call matzoh. The egg symbolizes our hope in our children for the future.

Today our children are grown and married and have their own children and grandchildren for whom to conduct a seder. We are gratified to see them gather together to celebrate Passover and when possible, attend their seder. But that’s okay. That is how life progresses and that is how it should be. But we will continue to raise and drink our four glasses of wine and say, “L’chaim. To life!”

Post-1959

1959 became the beginning of many changes in our lives. We had decided that it was desirable that our children grow up in a Jewish environment. Momma started to look. One afternoon in early 1959 our friend, Irv Abramowitz stopped in the store between appointments. We discussed moving. That evening, his wife, Grace, called Momma. Her parents were empty nesters and lived in a six bedroom, 2 ½ bath house at the corner of Merville Avenue and Ken Oak Road. This is one block north of Rogers Avenue and six blocks east of Park Heights Avenue. Grace told us that they were anxious to move to a small house on Glen Avenue. We made an appointment to see her parents and the house. The house sat on a ¼ acre with a two car garage behind it. There were four porches, three covered, in front and in back, of the first two floors. There was a very large entrance hall with a breakfast room, kitchen, pantry and half bath behind it. To the left was a living room with a fire place (gas) and a dining room behind that. The living room had parquetry wood floors. The walls were plaster covered by linen cloth and painted. There was molding on the walls to make a center frame. Grace’s mother said that she had had a seated dinner for 100 guests in that house. From the entrance hall, stairs led to the second floor. Three bedrooms, a den and a full bath were on the second floor. The den opened up to the covered rear porch. The front bedroom opened up to the uncovered front porch. Momma and I were in the front bedroom, Risa had one bedroom and Phyllis and Amy shared the other bedroom.

The third floor held two bedrooms and a full bath. There were eaves alongside each bedroom. Marc had the small rear bedroom and Larry, Arnold and David had the front bedroom. Marc established a workbench under the eaves where he promptly disassembled anything he could spirit upstairs. When the toaster went missing, it appeared disassembled on Marc’s workbench. There was a full basement with two rooms. I used one for and office and we used the other one for storage. The walls were two feet thick made of stone.

The Zervitzes asked $12,500.00 for the house. Momma and I walked out onto the front porch, looked at each other, nodded and knocked on the door. We moved in May, 1959. Northern Parkway was due to be built alongside the house, but it only took a small triangle from the southwest corner of the property. One night about four o’clock in the morning, we heard a loud crash. Am employee driving to work at Koontz Dairy, located at Northern Parkway and Reisterstown Road failed to make the turn and ended up against the tree in the front yard. Both the tree and the employee survived; the vehicle did not.

One afternoon, Marc came running down the stairs shrieking, “They got pictures of naked ladies hanging up.” Momma and I trudged up to the third floor and saw no such hangings in the front bedroom. Marc reached up and pulled down the window blind. Larry had taped a Playboy centerfold to the inside of the window blind. When it was up, the picture was not visible. I seem to recall that we permitted them to keep it there. The boys bathed in the tub on the third floor. Arnold hated to take a bath so he threw dirt in the water. “Of course I took a bath and washed,” he said. “Can’t you see how dirty the water is?” David did not go to summer camp but spent uncounted hours in the backyard with Glenn Gibson building roads for the many matchbox cars that they had accumulated. There was always a pool in the backyard and the neighborhood children always found their way there. We always had animals. I recall a dog, Lucky, who ran out into Northern Parkway and was struck by a vehicle. He did not live up to his name. I believe that our children feel that Merville Avenue was among the best years of their lives.

Risa transferred to Arlington Elementary School where I had attended some twenty five years before. One of her teachers, Mrs. Wallenstein was my sixth grade teacher. Small world! Larry and Arnold and Marc went to the Talmudical Academy. Phyllis and Amy went to Arlington. I spent nearly an hour commuting to the store, but it was worth it. We lived in a Jewish environment. Ben Leibowitz, my sister Ruth’s husband, taught Momma how to drive and we acquired the “tired monster.” After the children came home, Momma left them with Risa and came to the store. Sometimes she came down to the store after they left for school and came back when they came home. Everyone pitched in and helped. With seven children, there was just too much to do for just one mother and one father.

1954 through 1959

The five year period between 1954 and 1959 was a very busy one and produced profound changes in our lives. David appeared in 1955 and Amy Gail came in 1958. She was such a beauty that she became known as the “ugly child.” The store prospered and the volume of business grew. This was a neighborhood business. Customers did not drive to shop, but walked. They could come to the store a half dozen times a day. They would come in the early morning to buy food for breakfast. We would break a 19 cent loaf of bread in half and sell each half for 10 cents. Many stores would sell one egg or one cigarette. Donuts would be delivered fresh each morning and customers would buy one or two donuts. Milk was sold by the quart; not by the gallon or half gallon. Many people did not have refrigeration or if they did, it was not efficient. There was no such thing as frozen foods. The first frozen food was frozen orange juice and Minute Maid sold grocers a freezer for $100.00. I borrowed the money from Uncle George Poloway. Groceries were purchased for the next meal; a customer who came in on Saturday and purchased a $15.00 order was a customer to be treasured. Meats were cut to order. When a customer wanted ground beef, out came the chuck and out came the meat grinder. A half pound of beef was cut off the piece and ground right there and then. When a customer wanted something and we did not stock, we got it and stocked it! Whatever they wanted, we got! At Christmas toys were hung from the ceiling and orders taken. We sold Christmas lights, tinsel, wrapping paper and ribbons. We took orders for Thanksgiving turkeys. They were delivered Tuesday and we stayed up all night cleaning them to be picked up by customers on Wednesday. Turkeys came with the head and feet on and the entrails inside. We sold billions of Easter eggs and jelly beans, baskets and green paper grass to put in the baskets. We sold socks, sheets and pillow cases. I suppose we were a convenience store…Plus!

We needed more room desperately but Mrs. Waters lived in the room behind the store. She is not to be confused with Mrs. Wilhelm who lived in the second floor rear room. Mrs. Waters saved newspapers. Her room was literally crammed with newspapers. During this period, Mrs. Waters died and we did not rent the room. W broke through the back wall and extended the store to the rear of the building. Additional shelving was purchased and we became a miniature supermarket. We hired a neighborhood youth to work afternoons after school. We led full lives.

Misfortune struck with the fire at 1512 McHenry Street in 1957. Fire damage was confined to the second floor front room but the whole house reeked of smoke. Mama took Risa, Marc, Phyllis and David and went to live with her parents on Park Heights Terrace. I took Larry and Arnold and went to my parents on Ingleside Avenue. Time was compressed because of the commute. By the time Amy was born in March, 1958 the renovation was not complete but we all moved back into McHenry Street. Renovations were finally completed but before the end of the year, Momma and I decided that our children needed to be raised in a Jewish environment and this could not be found at Stricker and Mchenry Streets. Momma began to look.

Regrets

At this point I would like to relate two incidents which, although occurring at two separate times many years apart, taught me the same valuable lesson. I never learned anything about my Father’s life prior to his arriving into the United States in 1914. I know that he came from the Ukraine in Russia and that is about all I know. I do not even know the city or town or village where he was born and lived. I know very little about his family. Did he have aunts and uncles and cousins? What did they do? What kind of people were they? I did not press him for that information and I probably did not ask very much. Today I deeply REGRET this.

Marc decided to move to Reno from Washington D.C. where he had been employed as the locksmith at George Washington University. Momma and I were helping him pack his belongings in a U-Haul trailer when I asked, “Would you like me to drive with you?” It would turn out to be one of the best questions that I ever asked. The experience was a great one for both of us. And surprisingly, I do not remember much about the trip. I remember that the trailer tipped over on the Capitol Beltway minutes after we started the trip. I remember running out of gas at night in Wyoming.(Marc blamed me although he was driving.) I remember checking the trailer hitch on the shores of the Great Salt Lake in Utah. And I remember wrestling that ungodly heavy sofa up the stairs to his second floor apartment in Reno. We left on a Friday night and arrived in Reno on Tuesday afternoon. Those four days had a deep effect on our relationship ever since and for the better. I have no REGRETS about accompanying Marc on his migration to Reno.

If there is something that you want to do or should do and can do, do it! Give it serious consideration (or conserious sideration as Risa used to say) and if the answer is “yes”, do it! There will come a time when you will not be able to do it. Don’t put yourself in the position where you must say, “ I wish I had……” For that time will surely come and you will have REGRETS.

Kenmar Food Market moves to 301

The lease on 238 South Stricker Street ran out in 1954. There was no intention to renew the lease. We had purchased the building at 301 South Stricker Street and had prepared for a move. The store was painted and a tile floor laid. A freezer, a refrigerated vegetable case and a refrigerated reach-in box were added. Completely new shelving was in place. A window air conditioner was installed over the entrance door. All that was left to do was move the meat display case and the inventory. This was accomplished in one day and we were open for business. And remember, I was 29, Momma was 27 and we had five children all five years old or less.

Meanwhile, the children were getting older (as is usually the case) and Risa was ready to start school. The public schools in the area were bad, very bad and we needed a good school for our children. She was enrolled in the Louisa May Alcott Elementary School at Reisterstown and Keyworth Avenues. We gave our home address as the home address of Momma’s parents on Park Heights Terrace. Momma’s paternal grandmother, whom we know as Super Bubbe, lived across Keyworth Avenue from the school. I would drive Risa to school each morning and pick her up most afternoons. There were times when Momma’s mother, Grandma Esther Hoffman would pick her up and we would retrieve Risa after the store was closed. When it was time for Larry and Arnold to go to school, we chose the Talmudical Academy on Cottage Avenue. I would drop off the three of them in the morning and the School Bus would deliver the boys in the afternoon.

The boys began to work in the store in the afternoon. They would wait on the children who came in to buy penny candy. There were probably 30 kinds of penny candy like those little half balls of hard candy pasted on a strip of paper, sweet liquid juice in tiny wax bottles and giant licorice sticks; all a penny each. There were no throwaway soda bottles but there was a two cent deposit on the bottles. The children redeemed the bottles for penny candy. The boys probably ate as much candy as we sold but it kept them busy. Buzzy Berg would stop in with Richard and guess where Richard immediately went. That’s right, the candy case. Life was good; the store prospered and produced enough income for the seven of us to live a middle class life.

Problems arose but nothing serious and nothing out of the ordinary. Then two disastrous incidents struck. Larry ran out into McHenry Street and was struck by a vehicle. A visor over a headlight caught Larry in the mouth and tore open his upper lip and knocked out his two front teeth. At first we thought that his entire lip had been torn off, but it was only split. A good plastic surgeon made repairs but left a scar. This is probably one of the reasons that Larry has always had a mustache. Arnold was different. His philosophy was, “You go along with the program.”

Several years later, when Marc and Phyllis were about three years old, Phyllis found some matches and gave them to Marc. He crawled under our bed and lit one. As the smoke billowed out of our second floor bedroom windows, neighbors called the Fire Department and ran to tell us at the store. I ran to the house. It was only a half block away. It has been said that my first action was to call the insurance company. That is not true! My first action was to see that Marc and Phyllis and anyone else were out of the house and safe. My SECOND call was to the insurance company. The room was completely gutted but the insurance covered the costs of refurbishing the room.

Vehicles were important in our lives. Our first vehicle was a 1939 Plymouth which we purchased from Momma’s Uncle Lou Music. That’s the one that we pushed more than we drove. In 1950, we bought a 1948 Dodge from a salesman, Bob Hoenes who worked with my father at the Independent Lock Company. Our next vehicle was a used 1950 Chrysler nine passenger station wagon. We needed the size because everyone wanted to sit near a window. Our first new vehicle was a 1952 Plymouth station wagon, then a new 1955 Plymouth station wagon. When we moved to Merville Avenue in 1959 we needed a second vehicle because Momma learned to drive. We spent $20.00 on a two door 1952 Plymouth from Sam Berg’s junk yard. We called it the “tired monster” because the shocks in the front were bad and the vehicle tilted low in the front. But it ran and ran and ran. And guess who drove it; and it wasn’t Momma. We had a 1959 Rambler and then another Rambler. We had a 1968 Dodge Dart and a 1973 Dodge Dart. We had a 1977 Pontiac which was a total disaster. Our next vehicle was a 1978 Volvo which became known as Mom Marcie’s little red bus. David worked at Michaelson Motors where there was a Mazda franchise. We thereafter bought Mazdas.

1512 McHenry Street

1512 McHenry Street was built in 1834 according to a map in Baltimore’s Peale Museum. It was the last of a group of row houses which ran from behind the store at 238 South Stricker Street to Parrish Alley. It was originally a three story house with two rooms on each floor. Subsequent owners built a large kitchen on the first floor, two bedrooms, a bath and a back porch on the second floor and partitioned one of the bedrooms on the third floor to form a bedroom, kitchen and bath. There was an outhouse in the back yard. In the kitchen, there was a large fireplace which we converted into a pantry. There were no improvements to the property in many years so Momma and I got to work. We would close the store at seven o’clock, have dinner and get the five children into bed. Then we would get to work. We laid asphalt tile in the kitchen, dining room and up the stairs into the second floor hall. Asphalt tile is not flexible but is hard. It is cut by scoring it and snapping each end, hoping that is breaks at the scored line. A black adhesive is spread on the floor and the tiles are placed on the adhesive. The adhesive is not water soluble and must be cleaned up with paint thinner or turpentine. It can make a real mess. It is not difficult to lay the tiles. You measure to the exact center of the room and make a cross. You put one tile in each part of the cross and go from there. When you get to the edge of the room, the tiles must be cut to fit. The kitchen was tin; the walls and the ceiling were tin. It was not a smooth surface and had small bubbles all over it. It was very time consuming to paint. There were no rollers then; only paint brushes. We hung paper in the living room and laid wall to wall carpet. We converted the back bedroom on the second floor to a laundry room and installed a washer and a dryer. The drain line ran down the outside of the house. One winter the drain line froze and the water backed up and overflowed. It ran through the floor into the kitchen and into all the cabinets. What a mess!

We enclosed the back yard with a cinder block fence and the children played there. It was here that our only broken bone happened. Larry was walking on top of the fence and fell off, breaking his arm. Prior to that, Larry decided to test our admonition about running into the street. He was struck by a vehicle and had his upper lip torn open and his two front teeth knocked out. But Molli married him anyway! During the summer we would turn on the hose and the neighborhood children had a grand time playing in Parrish Alley. Vehicular traffic was practically non-existent in Parrish Alley. There was a row of houses which ran down Parrish Alley inhabited by blacks. Old Lady Sadie lived behind our house and was always hollering at the children playing in the alley.

We had help in the house from the time Larry and Arnold were born until we moved to Merville Avenue. Mitch was with us for two weeks from the birth of the first set of twins. Then came a succession until we found Delores. She worked five days per week and was paid $20.00 per week. She lived on Carey Street and I would frequently pick her up and take her home. We lived on McHenry Street until 1959 when we moved to 5601 Merville Avenue.

Continuing Saga

1949 came to an end and we had a great New Year’s Eve. Laurence and Arnold appeared on the scene September 30, 1950, nine months later. Two cribs made their appearance in the tiny apartment above the store. Eight days later the Bris occurred in the apartment. It was traumatic for the boys; they did not walk for a year! Sales slowly increased as our customers got used to us and we provided many services in addition to selling them groceries. We sold postage stamps and money orders. Our customers did not have bank accounts so we cashed their pay checks and sold them money orders (checks) when they needed to send a check to pay a bill. If someone came in and asked for an item which we did not carry, we added it to the inventory. Our fathers, Willie Golberg and Sam Hoffman visited the store daily. They were very helpful. Remember we were 24 and 22 years old. Sam Hoffman had a cake route. He sold cake, cookies, potato chips, candy and other snack items to groceries like ours. He sold cakes from the Kunkel and Haverstick Bakery Willie Golberg left work at five o’clock and swung by the store on the way home.

Daily deliveries of bread and milk were made. Transactions were cash on delivery. You had to check everybody. The soda delivery men had a favorite trick. Sodas came in wooden boxes with 24 compartments and one soda fit in one compartment. They would bring in a stack of five cases. From the center of the bottom four cases they would remove four bottles, leaving 20 bottles in each case and charging for 24. It could not be seen until the top case was removed. That stopped after the first inspection caught it.

One evening Willie Golberg came in and found two insurance salesmen trying to sell me life insurance. He chased them out and said, “If you want to buy life insurance, I will send you someone.” So, one evening after I closed the store, J. Max Abramowitz came along with his son, Irving J. I was to be Irving’s client. I came in from the store, took off my bloody, dirty apron and washed my hands. We all sat down at the kitchen table. Irving was a stiff, serious young man. He continuously toyed with a ring on his finger. When I asked what that was, he replied, ”This is my school ring. I graduated from the Johns Hopkins University.” I said,” I have one like that.” I reached into the cutlery drawer in the kitchen table. “Mine has 1948 on it.” We became very close friends and remain so to this day. He would stop at the store during the day when he had some free time between appointments, sometimes for lunch. He would eat in our home because we kept Kosher. He married Grace Zerewitz who Momma knew since they were eight years old. Grace’s mother was Annie Pariser, daughter of Joseph Pariser who bought Morganstern’s Bakery on Christian Street where Esther Poloway lived and above where Abraham Poloway rented a room to sew pants. Small world, isn’t it?

Irving had a friend, Norbert Grunwald, a stockbroker, who began an investment club. Irving brought me into the club. We invested $10.00 per month and bought stocks with it. We met once each month for breakfast and discussion. I met many other young men my age, among them, one Buzzy Berg who later married Elayne Plimack and sired one Richard Stuart Berg. Small world, isn’t it?

We had a five year lease which would expire in 1954. The landlord was reluctant to maintain the property and problems arose. The property known as 301 South Stricker Street, caddy corner from the store, came up for sale. Willie Golberg managed to secure financing and we bought the property as joint tenants. The first floor was rented as a warehouse and the upper two floors were rented as apartments. The rents paid the mortgage and expenses.

On April 19, 1953 Marc AND Phyllis Sue arrived. Surprise, surprise!! We expected only one. Five children within 47 months. The apartment above the store became much too small. A three store house at 1512 McHenry Street became available and we became homeowners with a mortgage. We put down $2,500.00 and borrowed $3,000.00. We were almost the typical American family; children, a used car and a mortgage. All that was missing was a dog.

More Early Years

We bought the store in August, 1949 and moved to the apartment in September, 1949. When Rosh Hashana rolled around we went to my parent’s to spend the two day holiday. We came home the night of the second day (we would not drive on the holiday) and I took Risa’s bottles into the store to put in the refrigerated case (remember. We had no refrigerator in the kitchen). The case was warm; no refrigeration. To get to the basement, you went through two heavy steel doors set into the sidewalk along side the store. I opened the doors, took one step down, and hit water. Disaster had struck! While we were gone, a pipe burst and water filled the basement to a depth of five feet. The tenant on the third floor noticed a drop in water pressure but did not report it to the landlord. The water gushed for two days.The motors and compressors which operated the refrigeration in the store were ruined; beyond salvage. All the perishables in the refrigerated cases were garbage. The fire department was called and pumped the water out of the basement. It was a tremendous financial blow. We had been open for a month with a $5,000.00 debt and no capital. But we managed to replace the motors and compressors and were back in business the next day.

Several months later, the second shoe dropped. The building was heated by a coal furnace. I knew almost nothing about the operation of a coal furnace. I knew that coal was deposited in a coal box and a fire was lit. The coal burned and heated the air around the coal box. The poisonous fumes produced by the burning escaped through the chimney. The heated air rose through ducts into the rooms above the store which were heated by the hot air. This system of heating the building was not efficient and the building was always cold, especially the first floor where the store and our kitchen were located. I did not know how to bank the furnace at night so that the coal would continue to be burning until the morning. When the coal stopped burning during the night, I went outside through the heavy steel doors and into the basement to start the fire again. One night, we awoke coughing and choking. We ran to the windows and opened them to be able to breathe. There was a crack in the coal box and the poisonous coal fumes mixed with the heated air and rose into our apartment. We were taken to the hospital and fortunately, we suffered no permanent damage. The next day we made a deal with the landlord to pay half of the cost of tha installation of an oil burner.

The store hours were 6 A.M. to 9 P.M., Monday through Saturday and 9A.M. to noon on Sunday, a total of 93 hours per week. On Sunday I opened the store and Momma got Risa ready and packed a picnic basket I would close the store at noon, wash up, change clothes and we would get into our 1939 Plymouth (which we pushed as often as we drove) and we were off to somewhere. I can recall warming Risa’s bottle on the motor of the car. One Sunday afternoon week each month I worked in the store doing things that could not be done while the store was open. I soon discovered that there were very few sales during the first hour of the day or during the last two hours of the day. The hours were reduced to 7 A.M. to 7 P.M. and three hours on Sunday, a total of 75 hours. I was like being on vacation. We did not have funds to hire help in the store or in the house so we did it all. We worked hard and we were very happy. I suppose that we didn’t know any better.

The Early Years II

Along with many other ex-G.I.s I began college in September, 1945. And, along with many other ex-G.I.s, I was anxious to complete college and get on with my life. I took as many courses as possible and amassed enough credits to earn a Bachelors degree by February, 1948. A recession had taken hold and the market was flooded with recent college graduates. I managed to land a job with the United States Department of Agriculture. The ANNUAL salary was $1,050.00. That equates to $20.19 per week. I was based in Washington, D.C. and field trips were included in the job. When based in Washington, I got up at six o’clock in the morning, took a street car to Camden Station, a train to Washington and a bus to work and got there 8:30. I didn’t get home until 6:30 P.M. Momma and I became engaged in March, 1948 and she was not happy with the arrangement. Field trips consisted working in various cities for a two week period. We wrote to each other daily while I was away. The Department paid for transportation and gave us $6.00 per diem. The $6.00 paid for food, lodging, laundry and anything else we needed. I traveled with a partner and we could not make it on $6.00 per day each. The hotel room at the Times Square Hotel in New York was $12.00 per day. There went the six bucks. Between the travel expenses and the commuting expenses, nothing was left of my salary and I started digging into my savings. I was fortunate to live at home. By August, 1948 I was ready to leave the job. But with the recession, not much was available. Momma and I talked about it and because I had another year of college eligibility under the G.I. bill, we decided that I should go back for a year of graduate work. The wedding was scheduled for September 12, 1948 and we would live with Momma’s parents Samuel Zelig and Esther Hoffman in a three bedroom row house on Park Heights Terrace. There was room in that there was only Momma’s 18 year old brother, Bernard (Buddy) living there. I began college when we got back from the honeymoon. We received a stipend of $105.00 per month, $80.00 of which went for room and board. We made do and when Momma needed a winter coat, she worked for a credit company and we bought a good winter coat.

I finished the year of college in May, 1949 and Risa was born in June, 1949. Jobs were scarce and I took a job with Wearever Pots and Pans selling door-to-door. It did not work out. We looked and looked, talked and talked. We finally came up with the idea of a grocery store. I knew how to cut meat from working in supermarkets before I went into the Army and had a degree in business. We enlisted the four parents and finally found a suitable store for sale at 238 South Stricker Street with living quarters behind and above the store. My parents loaned us $5,000.00 and by late August, we were budding grocery magnates and Kenmar Food Market was born. We moved on September 12, 1949. We took Risa’s carriage, her necessities and blankets for us. The first night, we slept on the blankets on the floor. The next day, I went out and bought a spring and mattress. To store clothes and other possessions, we used orange crates. Momma was 22 years old, I was 24. We had a kitchen behind the store and four rooms on the second floor. The front room was a cavernous room which we used to hang clothes to dry. There were no Pampers so we washed Risa’s diapers and hung them to dry in the second floor front room. The first thing we bought was a front loading Bendix washer. It had a round glass door and we parked Risa in front. She watched the clothes go round and round and was fascinated. We had no refrigerator so we kept the perishables in the refrigerated display cases in the store. In May, 1950, we received a life insurance dividend check, enough to buy an Admiral refrigerator to use in the kitchen. Eureka, what luxury!! My parents contributed the unused, hideous green kitchen set from their basement. We began our family life.

Education

Jews are known as “People of the Book,” loosely translated as favoring study and education. And William Golberg was fully a Jew in this respect. Although his formal education consisted of night school to learn to read, write and speak English upon his arrival in the United States in 1914, he was determined to insure that his children were educated. This meant a college education for the boys and a high school education for the girls as was the custom in those days.

The language spoken at home was Yiddish; Russian among the adults when they did not want the children to know what was being said. When Kenneth was enrolled in kindergarten in 1930 at Arlington Elementary School #234 at Rogers and Magnolia Avenue, he could not speak English, only Yiddish. By the time he reached the first grade in 1931, he was fluent in English. He was a bright child and during his enrollment in elementary school, was advanced a half grade. He completed elementary school in February, 1937. He was sent to Junior High School #49 where the seventh, eighth and ninth grades were completed in two years. School #49 was located in a row building on Cathedral Street across from what is now the Meyerholl. It was probably and individual home. It consisted of a building of classrooms and an administrative office, a large cemented courtyard behind the school and a small gymnasium at the rear, fronting on Maryland Avenue. Other that the accelerated pace, Kenneth can remember that Latin was taught. He had no problem; learning came easy to him.

Kenneth wanted to go to City College where all the Jewish boys went. William insisted that he attend Baltimore Polytechnic Institute (Poly) and William was correct. Poly’s reputation was such that graduates of Poly’s A course were admitted to the second year of college. Kenneth was admitted to the B course because it was required that a student begin the A course in the ninth grade and Kenneth began Poly in the tenth grade having completed the ninth grade at School #49. Poly was located on North Avenue at Calvert Street. Kenneth was not quite fourteen years old when he began Poly in February, 1939, immature and small for a high school student. That and being Jewish, a very small group at Poly, made social action with other students non-existent. Kenneth graduated in February, 1942, not quite seventeen years old. As usual, everything came easily to him; there was no problem getting excellent grades. Poly was basically a school which prepared students for an engineering degree offering such subjects and steam, electricity, chemistry and calculus. William had made a good choice.

However, William’s choice of college was not a good one. William believed that a profession was the best choice for a career; medicine, dentistry, law or pharmacy. Pharmacy was the only one which did not require an advanced degree; so pharmacy was it!

Kenneth spent the period between February, 1942 and September, 1942 working full time as a meat cutter in a supermarket and saved enough to pay all expenses at the University of Maryland, School of Pharmacy located at Calvert and Greene Streets. He hated it! It was boring. He had studied all the required courses at Poly except Zoology. He was required to take Algebra, having taken, Geometry, Solid Geometry and Calculus at Poly. He joined a Jewish Pharmaceutical fraternity, Phi Alpha.

World War II was raging and Kenneth received notice that he was to be inducted in the Armed Forces shortly after he completed the first year of Pharmacy School in May, 1943. In July, 1943 he was sent to Fort Benning, Georgia for basic training. After basic training. He was assigned to the Army Specialized Training Program (ASTP) and sent to the University of Maine in December, 1943. (The ASTP was held in disdain by those enrolled in it. We sang, “Your son wants to fight for his country but first he must get his degree. So take down that service flag, mother, your son’s in the ASTP.”) Plans were being made for invasion of Europe and infantry soldiers were needed. The ASTP was disbanded and everyone was sent to Fort Jackson to be trained for the invasion in February, 1944. While on maneuvers in Tennessee shortly thereafter, Kenneth was injured severely enough to be given a medical discharge in August, 1945.

Among the benefits offered honorably discharged veterans by the G.I. Bill was a four year expense paid college education with a $90.00 per month stipend. William wanted Kenneth to return to Pharmacy school but with maturity and financial independence due to the G.I. Bill, Kenneth rebelled and enrolled at the Johns Hopkins University in September, 1945 majoring in Economics. A student was permitted to take as many credits as he wished; Kenneth graduated in February, 1948 with a Bachelors degree in Business. He could not join a fraternity at Johns Hopkins because the belonged to a fraternity at Pharmacy School and his fraternity did not have a chapter at Johns Hopkins. But he was welcome at the fraternity houses of Alpha Epsilon Phi and Phi Delta, the two Jewish fraternities at Johns Hopkins. It was at the AEPi house that he met his bashert, Marcie Hoffman.

Kenneth worked with the Department of Agriculture in Washington, D.C. The hours were long because he commuted to work, by street car, train and bus. This was unsatisfactory in that he and Marcie became engaged in March, 1948. He had terminated this employment when they were married September 12, 1948. He had one additional year left under the G.I. Bill and when a suitable employment opportunity did not arise he went back to Johns Hopkins for a Masters degree in Marketing. The monthly government stipend was $105.00 monthly for married couples and Kenneth and Marcie managed.

At this point, Kenneth’s education was interrupted by the obligations imposed by a growing family. In 1965, Risa, the oldest child was sixteen and Amy, the youngest, was seven. Kenmar Food Market was well established and prospered. Kenneth took a job with the State of Maryland, Department of Labor and Industry. In November, 1965. By January, 1969 he was Chief, Employment Standards Service with a staff of thirty-five. Among his duties was the interpretation of the laws administered by the Service. His knowledge of law was non-existent. Marcie suggested that he enroll in law school and take a few courses to acquaint himself with enough law to adequately perform is duties. He enrolled at the University of Baltimore, School of Law in September, 1969 and took several courses at night. One course led to another and by 1975, he had amassed eighty credits, enough to graduate. In 1976, he took the Bar Exam and was sworn in as a member of the Maryland State Bar that year. His formal education was complete.

Subsequently, Kenneth continued his education at the School of Hard Knocks, whose colors are, not surprisingly, black and blue.

The Early Years

My parents were born in 1898 within weeks of one another but thousands of miles apart. Esther Poloway was born on August 29th in Baltimore, Maryland. William Golberg was born on Shabbos Tsheuvah, the Shabbos between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur in the Ukraine, then a part of Russia. Time was measured by his people by Hebrew Holydays. They were married on February 12, 1924 and moved into a newly built three bedroom, one bath cottage at 3326 Ingleside Avenue. Along with them moved in Dora, William’s mother and Sophie, Goldie and David, William’s siblings. The three women slept in the back bedroom, David in the middle bedroom and the newlyweds in the front bedroom. When Kenneth arrived March 21, 1925, he slept in a crib in his parent’s bedroom.

Dora was a strong willed woman. Her two daughters were unmarried and remained so throughout their lives because that is how Dora wanted it. Sophie was beautiful and Goldie was attractive, both with numerous suitors. But Dora rejected each and every suitor for reasons true and/or fanciful. She had lost a husband near the turn of the century and she simply did not want to let her daughters go. And that is how the system worked in those days.

Kenneth was the first grandchild and did not lack for attention. In fact, he was no doubt, inundated by affection. In those days children were basically raised by their mothers and Kenneth was raised primarily by four mothers and secondarily by two fathers. William had a full time job. Although he did not attend religious services frequently because he worked on Saturday, he was very active in the operation of his synagogue, the Petach Tikvoh Congregation, located in a cottage on Denmore Avenue between Belvedere and Spaulding Avenues. William was “handy” and maintained the house and property. He built a room in the basement and partitioned the large kitchen into a food preparation area and an eating area. To earn extra money, he repaired and adjusted key cutting machines and refurbished automatic door closers at a work bench in the basement. William’s days were full. He did not get involved in the growing strife between his wife and his mother.

Dora and Sophie assisted in the cooking and cleaning. Goldie worked out of the home as often as she could find work. Dora was strong willed and Esther was not. Esther did not complain. Two women cannot operate in the same kitchen, especially a wife and a strong willed mother-in-law.

David married and moved out. Harry Janoff, the grandson of Dora’s sister, Chana Liebe, who attended Johns Hopkins University, moved into the middle bedroom. I can remember being admonished to be quiet because Cousin Harry needed quiet to study. Harry moved out and Ruth arrived in 1929. Kenneth and Ruth slept in the middle bedroom. When Marvin Bennett arrived in 1931 he went in to the parents’ bedroom.

The house was not built on the corner of Ingleside and Hamlin Avenuess. There was an overgrown ten foot strip of land between the house and Hamlin Avenue. Poisin Ivy grew wild on the land nad guess who frequently caught poison ivy and who frequently was slathered with calamine lotion. . William finally purchased and cleared the strip, planted grass and four maple trees and a cherry tree and a pear tree. He also built a garage at the back end of the strip. Behind the house was a peach tree which bore an enormous amount of fruit. Late each summer, everyone worked in rhe basement, peeling and cutting the peaches to make peach preserves; enough to last the entire year until the next harvest. We sat at an old kitchen set, painted a bilious green, which found new life in the kitchen behind the Kenmar Food Market at 238 South Stricker Street some two decades later.

By 1938, Kenneth was 13 years old and Ruth was 9 years old and they shared the middle bedroom. This was not appropriate and Esther had finally had it with her mother=in law and sisters-in-law. Esther issued an ultimatum to William; they had to go! William chose and an apartment was found for the three on Queensbury Avenue just south of Belvedere Avenue. Dora and the two siblings left; Dora hurling curses at Esther, in Russian, of course. They would subsequently move into the first floor apartment of a house on Wylie Avenue, purchased jointly by William and David and then to an apartment on Glen Avenue where they lived until they died. They are buried on the Hebrew Othodox Memoerial Society Cemetary located at 6800 German Hill Road. William and David were the primary support of their mother and sisters, in life and in death.

Kenneth and Marvin Bennett moved in to the back bedroom and Ruth into the middle bedroom. Life became more conventional on Ingleside Avenue.. .

Hebrew School

In the mid 1930s Hebrew School did not exist as we know it now. Hebrew customs, observances and history were leaned in the home because they were practiced in ordinary everyday living. As the holidays were observed, one learned about the holidays. When we ate or prepared food, we learned what was permissible to eat and what was not. When we read the Torah, we learned Hebrew history. If the Father was so inclined, he taught the son to read Hebrew; not to understand it but only to read it. This was necessary in order to go to services and pray. My Father was not so inclined so I was sent to a Rebbe, Mr Rudnitzky, to learn to read Hebrew. He lived just south of Garrison Boulevard. I went to the Rebbe’s home and sat at the dining room table with a half dozen other nine and ten year old boys and read prayers. The Rebbe was also a Shochet, a ritual slaughter of chickens. As we read, a housewife would appear with a live chicken. The Rebbe would don a rubber apron and admonish us to continue reading. He would then disappear with the housewife and the live chicken. A screech later, he would reappear with blood and feathers covering his apron. I am reminded of a Yiddish song, sang frequently by my Father, which went, translated of course, “On the hearth burns a fire and the house is hot. And the Rebbe teaches small children, the aleph beth.”

When the time approached for Bar Mitzvah, I was sent to a Rabbi to learn the Haftorah. He lived on Classen Avenus west of the 4600 block of Park Heights Avenue. I was taught the musical notes, not taught my particular Haftorah, so that I could read any Haftorah. This was in 1937 and a momentous change occurred in my life. I discovered the Baltimore Orioles. I walked to my Haftorah lessons and passed an auto repair shop at Hayward and Park Heights Avenue. Outside sat a very old man (he must have been at least 60 years old) reading the Baltimore Sun. He introduced me to the International League Baltimore Orioles. I met George Puchinelli, Ab Wright and Abernathy patrolling the outfield. I met Les Powers and Smoky Joe Martin at the corners and the battery of Bucky Crouse and Hy Vandenberg. I learned to hate the Newark Bears, top farm team of the New York Yankees. IT WAS GLORIOUS! Baseball was already known to me. We played softball incessantly on the vacant lot on Ingleside Avenue. My Father loved baseball and every Sunday we went to see the Pimlico All Stars (Semi-pro, a hat was passed around the spectators to cover expenses) play where Northwester High School grounds are now.

I have never lost my love for the O’s.

Girls were different. There was no Bat Mitzvah, girls did not learn Hebrew. They learned to cook and prepare for and celebrate the Jewish holidays. They did not play team sports; they jumped rope, played hide and seek and tag. It was not until Word war II and the early Forties that things began to change.

Maternal Grandparents

I know nothing of my maternal grandparents, Abraham and Rose Poloway, before thay immigrated to the United States. They arrived prior to 1898 because my mother, Esther, was born in the United States in 1898. They lived in Southwest Baltimore in a small row house on Christian Street. Abraham earned a living by travelling downtown to the many pants manufacturers, picking up cloth which had been cut for pants, bringing it home to sew together. He was paid a certain amount for each pair he sewed together. This was called “piecework.” He rented a room across the street from his home on the second floor of Morganstern’s Bakery (later purchased by one Joseph Pariser, Grace Abramowitz’s maternal grandfather), installed a sewing machine and sewed all night. He took the finished pants back the next day and picked up more pieces. They were religious, kept Kosher and belonged to the Moses Montefiore Congregation on Smallwood Street. I was told that Abraham was President for 17 years. Abraham and Rose had six children; William (married Betty), Jake, (married Sara), Esther (married William Golberg), Celia (married Albert Stein), Gearge,(never married) and Lillian (married William Sussman). My mother did not speak much of her life prior to marriage but she did tell me that, as a child, she was given a nickel and a tin container and told to go to the corner saloon. There, she knocked on the side door, handed the man the nickel and the container, received a container full of beer, and brought it back to her father. The family moved to Frederick Avenue and Willard Street where Abraham owned and operated a small grocery at 4652 Frederick Avenue. They lived behind and above the store. We would visit every Sunday, making the long trip from Pimlico.

Celia and Albert and George lived with the parents; the rest of the children moved out as they married.

William/ Betty had Robert and Bernice. Jake/Sarah had Faye, Morton, Irving and Rhona Lee. Esther/William had Kenneth, Ruth and Marvin Bennett. Celia/Albert had Doris. Lillian/William had Iris Ann and Ronald. William Poloway was a schoolteacher and owned and operated a small neighborhood building and loan association. Jake sewed pants. Albert was a liquor salesman until Prohibition and became a clerk for Bethlehem Steel. William Sussman was a photographer for the Baltimore Sun. George worked for the B&O Railroad. Rose died before 1949 and Risa is named after her. Abraham died in 1949 and Arnold is named after him. After Rose died Abraham, Celia and Albert Stein moved to a small row house on Smallwood Street several blocks below Pratt Street. The Poloways are buried in the cemetery at Washington Boulevard and the Beltway (I-695). Many of the deceased children are buried there also.

Of the cousins, we have kept in touch only with those of Jake and Sarah; primarily because Faye and her husband, Sidney Himmelstein live close by in Florida.