The Years 1946-1948
My grandmother, who was such an important part of my life, died in June of 1946 (י’סיון תש"ו). She had taken care of me for a good part of my life and we were very close. My relationship with her was as close as that between a loving parent and a child. We walked together in the street speaking Yiddish to each other. She always wanted me to walk on her left side because her right ear had diminished hearing.
She entertained me with stories of the old country, told me about the miracles that had been performed by the holy Rabbis that she knew or heard of. I heard many stories of the Shtetil that she lived in and the many problems and catastrophes that she endured: the fire that destroyed the homes and how they survived by digging up potatoes for food; how the local priest had provided shelter until they could rebuild their homes; her story of a Jewish soldier who sought shelter in her home from the mistreatment by his officer; how a Russian soldier shared a piece of bread with a little child. And as I previously related, the time that she traveled to Warsaw to arrange for her step-son not to be drafted into the Polish army. She told me that one time the Rebbi, I don’t know which one, went to a local pond with his Chasidim, including my grandfather, Moishe Chaim, to cool off on a hot summer day. One of the Chasidim was drowning and the Rebbi gave his cane to my grandfather who then dived into the water and rescued the individual. I was told that my grandfather was an Alexander Chosid so I assume the Rebbbi was an Alexander Rebbi. There were a thousand and one stories but now sixty plus years later I only remember some of them.
On Yom Tov she was the one who davened out loud for those women who didn’t know how to daven. They sat near her so they could hear the prayers and the Techina in Yiddish. She was the one who took care of me so my mother could go to work and help with the families’ finances. She was also superstitious and continued some of the old remedies from the old country. I wore a small bag around my neck that had camphor or pepper, It was to protect me from something but I don’t know what. A Matbayah, given to me by the Manistrischer Rebbi, was sewn onto my tallis katan to protect me from evil. She made Havdalah and Chanukah candles for the Rebbi and we went to him frequently for advice. My grandmother was held in high esteem by the Rebbi and his family. I recall that one time we went to see him but he had already gone to bed. Nevertheless we were ushered into the Rebbi’s bedroom to talk to him. I don’t remember the problem but it obviously concerned me, probably some misbehavior on my part. That’s when the Rebbi gave me a Bracha and the Matbayah.
After my grandmother died I moved in with my mother and Ben Tzion. I had my own small bedroom and they supplied me with the basics. I owe a debt of gratitude to Ben Zion, I was over 17 years old and he could have insisted that I help out. But he never hassled me about helping with the household expenses. With my part time jobs I was able to buy my own clothing and take care of my personal needs but he and my mother supplied me with shelter and food.
Also In June of 1946 Rose had her sixteenth birthday party. Even though her birthday was on July 7, she made the party in June because some of her friends, including me, were going away for the summer. I was away in Camp HES for July and August where I was a counselor for a number of summers. It was something that I was good at, that I enjoyed doing and I earned a few dollars. When my campers were at the lake I was often assigned to patrol the outer boundary of the deep water with a canoe. I enjoyed using a canoe and often in my free time I would paddle across the lake. I learned how to right a canoe that had turned over, rock it back and forth to empty it of most of the water and then climb back in. I also earned a Red Cross Life Saving certificate at camp.
Life went on for the next few years as I’ve described in a previous section. Rose was going to high school and I was working from time to time. We were both active in the Young Israel and saw each other almost every Shabbos. Her family had moved to the East New York section of Brooklyn sometime in early 1946. One Saturday night when I took her home by train we paid a fare of five cents. When I dropped her off and took the train back home, after midnight, the fare had increased to ten cents. Her home was about 1½ miles from the Young Israel and Rose would walk in almost every Shabbos except when she stayed at the apartment of her best friend, Gladys Young, which was not far from the Young Israel.
In 1947 my grandfather, Leyzer Balanson, came to New York for some medical treatment and he looked me up. He told me that my father would like me to come to Los Angeles, where they lived, so we could get to know each other. This was my first and only contact with my father or his family since they left New York more than sixteen years before. If I would agree they would send me a ticket for the trip. I discussed this with my mother and she had no objections for me to make the trip. In the meantime my grandfather met Rose and her parents. I believe that the visit relieved Rose’s parents who up to that time wondered if my mother had ever been married before and if she knew who my father was. So in December of 1947 I took the train to Los Angeles. I don’t think I had ever been out of New York before and I found the train trip, three days and two nights, very interesting if boring.
When I saw my father I blurted out “I thought you were taller”. Not such a surprising statement from the memory of a three year old. I stayed for about a month and missed one of the biggest snow storms in the history of New York City. Everyone treated me royally and I did get to know my father a bit. My uncle John, taught me to drive and I did get a driver’s license in Los Angeles. My uncle’s name was Hymie but John was his nickname from the army which he had joined prior to World War ΙΙ.
My father came to visit me the following year and met Rose and her family. For many years he came to visit us for Pesach and was very generous with gifts for me and the family. He came to Harvey and Estelle’s wedding, joined Rose and me for Shimon’s Bar Mitzvah in Israel and came to Cleveland for Naftali’s Bar Mitzvah. He was very helpful to us and gave me a large gift which helped us come up with the deposit to buy a home some years later. But the lost years remained lost.
Rose
graduated from Thomas Jefferson High School in June of
1948. She had excellent grades and was a member of Arista, an honors society.
She went to work for the General Israel Orphans Home for Girls (GIOHG)
located on the East Side typing addresses on envelopes that were eventually
mailed soliciting donations for the charity. Rose worked for them until her
first child was born in November of 1951. She was a very fast and accurate
typist.
Later that year, in November, we became engaged to be married. The Eksteins made a party and invited the family to join in the Simcha. Rose and I were in love and wanted to be together but I still didn’t have a job and marriage at this time was out of the question. So we continued seeing each other and talked about the future.
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