I had to walk seven long blocks to get school. It was a typical San Francisco school-tall, enclosed, brick, and rather stoic. I was now in the third grade, escaping being held back at my old school. My English was rather proficient, thus communicating was no problem.
I liked climbing the tiled stairs and the echo it made.
I don't remember my teacher's name but I can still visualize her. Overall, it seemed to be a great experience. I was placed in the top reading group, since I already was a great decoder. Math, was a laugh, and something I had encountered what seemed long ago. Perhaps the most enjoyable part of math (which I so loved) were timed tests of basics. No one could beat me. After all, all those trips I wold mentally practice my multiplications to myself. What we were doing was what I had seen in the first weeks of first grade. God, Americans were slow.
One of my classmates was Vera Rybelchencko. She had two sisters, Nina and Irene. We soon became friends and walking partners to school. I would call them in the morning and we would all meet at the end of the block. They lived on Second Ave.
I owned one pair of shoes., white buck shoes. Mom would polish them everyday so they would look like new. It wouldn't last for long because they were the perfect shoe for kickball. The ball seemed to fly higher and further than I could ever imagine. I was certain it was the shoe and its bionic powers. We were a pair that could challenge anyone.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
I wonder if Julie felt that way when she started her blog
One comment. Ouch. But it is soothing my soul.
One of the coolest things my mom and I did was climb the fire stairs that took us to the roof of the apartment. We even took pictures of each other. We were free. She was free. And for ever and ever the movie theater sign flashed the playing of Ben Hur. We figured it must be pretty good.
We were on top of the world.
And then inside presents were sent. Dutch books for me. I would read the latest big hit from Holland to my mother. No matter what I did, my mother loved it. Besides the yellow canary, who sang to its heart delight, all my mother had was me. I understand now how significant I was to her. No wonder she was always full of cheer when I came home from school. The praise was endless.
On Wednesday nights Gillette had its weekly boxing matches. It was even at a weird hour, I think, 7:45. My dad was addicted. We wanted no part of it. We had to be silent so my dad would not miss the blistering sound of a punch, I guess.
So among the usual verbal attacks my dad would frighten her. I would make a comment at 8 ," Oh, it is the fight of the week." , referring to the weekly fights on TV.
One day my dad walked out. My mother and I were mortified. Not because he left, but what would we do. My mom crying copiously, I left the apartment and went running down Arguello Blvd looking for my father. I didn't and went home to console my mom, promising her that he would come back. He did, three hours later. The chill in the apartment could not be warmed be the heater.
One of the coolest things my mom and I did was climb the fire stairs that took us to the roof of the apartment. We even took pictures of each other. We were free. She was free. And for ever and ever the movie theater sign flashed the playing of Ben Hur. We figured it must be pretty good.
We were on top of the world.
And then inside presents were sent. Dutch books for me. I would read the latest big hit from Holland to my mother. No matter what I did, my mother loved it. Besides the yellow canary, who sang to its heart delight, all my mother had was me. I understand now how significant I was to her. No wonder she was always full of cheer when I came home from school. The praise was endless.
On Wednesday nights Gillette had its weekly boxing matches. It was even at a weird hour, I think, 7:45. My dad was addicted. We wanted no part of it. We had to be silent so my dad would not miss the blistering sound of a punch, I guess.
So among the usual verbal attacks my dad would frighten her. I would make a comment at 8 ," Oh, it is the fight of the week." , referring to the weekly fights on TV.
One day my dad walked out. My mother and I were mortified. Not because he left, but what would we do. My mom crying copiously, I left the apartment and went running down Arguello Blvd looking for my father. I didn't and went home to console my mom, promising her that he would come back. He did, three hours later. The chill in the apartment could not be warmed be the heater.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
All in a day.
Spending extraordinaire time in the emergency it gave me great pause to reflect on my past as I looked into its mirror. I asked him several questions, but I must say his memory is hazy.
When I was in first grade, my mother worked at night to add funds to our trip abroad. I thought about how I got any food and couldn't remember. Sometimes my mother would take me to the deli to get some krokets and fries. That was quite a treat. I would walk home after a lift on my mother's bike. I would be so content.
So where was my father? Well, he changed his clothes and went to the same friends house everyday. I was responsible for getting myself in bed. I use to wet the wash cloth and toothbrush to prove I did it. Even left some toothpaste on for good measure. It was the neighbor's upstairs who would occasionally check on me to see that I was fast asleep.
I actually never was. I would run to bed in a hurry when I heard the footsteps. In the meantime, I had the luxury of watching TV at night. It came on at 8 and Perry Como and I became good friends.
When I was in first grade, my mother worked at night to add funds to our trip abroad. I thought about how I got any food and couldn't remember. Sometimes my mother would take me to the deli to get some krokets and fries. That was quite a treat. I would walk home after a lift on my mother's bike. I would be so content.
So where was my father? Well, he changed his clothes and went to the same friends house everyday. I was responsible for getting myself in bed. I use to wet the wash cloth and toothbrush to prove I did it. Even left some toothpaste on for good measure. It was the neighbor's upstairs who would occasionally check on me to see that I was fast asleep.
I actually never was. I would run to bed in a hurry when I heard the footsteps. In the meantime, I had the luxury of watching TV at night. It came on at 8 and Perry Como and I became good friends.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Yet, another move!
Despite the long summer in Antioch, my dad sensed something was up with his job at Fiberboard. he talked to his sponsors from the soccer club, Hakoah, asking if there was possibly a job there in the textile business. Most of the board of the team were German Jews who had connections with Levi and Boxer.
Although one of the reasons my dad fleed from his country was because he felt doomed. He saw no future in the textile business, and getting more schooling was not an option. He heard about that "Golden opportunity", and all the greatness sent from Hollywood. It was like chasing a rainbow with eternal hope.
Lo and behold, it was the textile business that served as his savior as a took on a job not unlike the one he left at home. He took the job, and hesitantly said yes, only to find out that day that he had been laid off by Fiberboard.
My mom was rather confused and dizzied by all the moves in such a short time. My dad convinced her that she would feel more at home. The temperatures were more like Amsterdam, and it had all the lures of a large city. The cosmopolitan flair certainly wasn't a deterrent.
I don't remember how we got there. We still had no car.
There wasn't much to pack up, so off we went to San Francisco.
Arguello Street, Porky and Bess, listening to a neighbor dying from lung cancer. Golden Gate Park.
Although one of the reasons my dad fleed from his country was because he felt doomed. He saw no future in the textile business, and getting more schooling was not an option. He heard about that "Golden opportunity", and all the greatness sent from Hollywood. It was like chasing a rainbow with eternal hope.
Lo and behold, it was the textile business that served as his savior as a took on a job not unlike the one he left at home. He took the job, and hesitantly said yes, only to find out that day that he had been laid off by Fiberboard.
My mom was rather confused and dizzied by all the moves in such a short time. My dad convinced her that she would feel more at home. The temperatures were more like Amsterdam, and it had all the lures of a large city. The cosmopolitan flair certainly wasn't a deterrent.
I don't remember how we got there. We still had no car.
There wasn't much to pack up, so off we went to San Francisco.
Arguello Street, Porky and Bess, listening to a neighbor dying from lung cancer. Golden Gate Park.
Monday, January 25, 2010
The Longest Summer
Let's see. I talked my mom into milk delivery. She got two potholders for doing so. I thought it was amazing. Ordered myself chocolate milk as part of the delivery. Actually I was doing all the ordering.
And then the newspaper came... Wanted to take our little family picture and write an article about my dad. I had no idea what about. Friends of the family brought copies of the newspaper. We couldn't afford to buy one ourselves. Front page news of the local newspaper.
I really didn't understand the magnitude or interest that could find my dad's story so compelling. I just figured that happened to everybody. It was for the first time I had heard mention of the holocaust. I really didn't know what that meant. Everyone whispered when it was the topic. I was able to decipher some of the story, but still did not realize what it all meant. I just shrugged it off. I wish I could do so today.
And then the newspaper came... Wanted to take our little family picture and write an article about my dad. I had no idea what about. Friends of the family brought copies of the newspaper. We couldn't afford to buy one ourselves. Front page news of the local newspaper.
I really didn't understand the magnitude or interest that could find my dad's story so compelling. I just figured that happened to everybody. It was for the first time I had heard mention of the holocaust. I really didn't know what that meant. Everyone whispered when it was the topic. I was able to decipher some of the story, but still did not realize what it all meant. I just shrugged it off. I wish I could do so today.
Back to Antioch
After working several weeks at the chicken restaurant, washing dishes with his bare hands in highly chlorinated heated water, we moved on. I was actually relieved since the powers of being would not be able to hold me back to repeat second grade. Tht was their solution for teaching a language.
Off we were back to Antioch. My dad was able to obtain a job with Fiberboard, through his connections. It was different this time. We moved in to an empty apartment. Our friends helped us move in. Of course, furniture was a first. We had a bookshelf made of 2 X 4 's and some bricks. No books, yet. Two chairs made of rattan in the living room. Mattresses on the floor. And....most importantly to my dad, a television. He felt it was the best way for us to learn the language, and help my mother ease the pain of leaving the rest of her family behind.
I quickly built my routine of shows. Learned all the channels and showtimes. It was a little easier in those days.
I also had the good fortune of making new friends. They were perhaps my best lesson in English.
We played on the railroad behind our apartment buildings, daring each other to stay on the rails as long as possible.
It was hot in Antioch in the summer. We had no way to cool ourselves. It was the first lesson of modesty I learned. I told my mom the heat was unbearable. Not coming from a puritanical background and only being 8 my mother told me to just unbutton my blouse. that lasted but a few minutes as kids immediately made remarks about my exposure. Interesting how we learn about new cultures.
I learned more about being American that summer in what no classroom could have taught me.
Off we were back to Antioch. My dad was able to obtain a job with Fiberboard, through his connections. It was different this time. We moved in to an empty apartment. Our friends helped us move in. Of course, furniture was a first. We had a bookshelf made of 2 X 4 's and some bricks. No books, yet. Two chairs made of rattan in the living room. Mattresses on the floor. And....most importantly to my dad, a television. He felt it was the best way for us to learn the language, and help my mother ease the pain of leaving the rest of her family behind.
I quickly built my routine of shows. Learned all the channels and showtimes. It was a little easier in those days.
I also had the good fortune of making new friends. They were perhaps my best lesson in English.
We played on the railroad behind our apartment buildings, daring each other to stay on the rails as long as possible.
It was hot in Antioch in the summer. We had no way to cool ourselves. It was the first lesson of modesty I learned. I told my mom the heat was unbearable. Not coming from a puritanical background and only being 8 my mother told me to just unbutton my blouse. that lasted but a few minutes as kids immediately made remarks about my exposure. Interesting how we learn about new cultures.
I learned more about being American that summer in what no classroom could have taught me.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
First TV
We always played outside all day. All the kids in the neighborhood would gather. I was the runt of the group, but they always included me. I could play as spek (bacon) which essentially meant whatever I did would not count, but I could play along.
Well, I finally got my power. My house was the proud owner of a brand new television. No one else had such a luxury. And on Saturday afternoon at 4:30 there was a children's program featuring a hamster. it was on for 45 minutes (no commercials). It was the only TV there was until night. The government owned the only TV channels then. Programming was rather limited. But on Saturday afternoon I was no longer spek, since I invited my friends to watch the show. Forty-five minutes of fame and I had to give up m mother for that.
Well, I finally got my power. My house was the proud owner of a brand new television. No one else had such a luxury. And on Saturday afternoon at 4:30 there was a children's program featuring a hamster. it was on for 45 minutes (no commercials). It was the only TV there was until night. The government owned the only TV channels then. Programming was rather limited. But on Saturday afternoon I was no longer spek, since I invited my friends to watch the show. Forty-five minutes of fame and I had to give up m mother for that.
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