Mike's Genealogy Site

Transcription of a tape by Esther Greenfield

[This transcription written 2/24/1992 by Raphael Finkel. The tape itself was recorded around 1970 or so.]

My earliest memories start at Byalostok, my birthplace. Our dwelling is in rather a large building, entrance in a courtyard. To the street is a long vaulted gateway. At night there is a watchman at the gate. He is called a dvornik. At one side of the courtyard is a large ivy covered wall. I can creep behind the ivy and hide. Inside the house the walls are plastered white. It looks very new. There is a sink with a faucet. This is the first time I remember having a faucet in the house. My sister Zeldie picks me up to get a drink of water. There is no furniture or anything in the house. We were probably just moving in. I do not remember the place we lived in before this. My baby brother Avremele is creeping on the floor. He creeps to the plastered wall near the sink. He chews on the plaster.

Next to our living quarters is my father's carpenter shop. Sometimes I go in there and play in the shavings and sawdust. My father smokes cigarettes constantly. When he throws the butts away I pick them up and play with them. One day a friend was visiting us. He smoked a pipe. I had never seen anything like it before. What is a pipe? What a wonderful toy it will be when he is finished and throws it away. I sit and watch. How long will it take? What disappointment. He takes the pipe out of his mouth and puts it in his pocket. No new plaything for me. I feel so very very sad!

One day a wonderful thing happened. We heard the voice of a Russian calling, "marozhni, marozhni. Sakha minarozhni." Mother grabs a glass and spoon and runs out into the courtyard with all us kids following. There stood a tall man with a wooden bucket on his head. Mother held out the glass. He put down the bucket. Inside was the most exciting substance I had ever seen. All the colors of the rainbow and looking yummy. It was ice cream, the first I had ever seen. Mother gave the man some coins. He filled the glass with the beautiful substance. By the spoonful, mother dished it out to our open mouths, just like a little bunch of birds in a nest. It was all over much too soon, but oh, what a wonderful treat!

Traveling entertainers came to the courtyard quite often. Most of the time they were acrobats. Sometimes there were musicians and dancing bears. They would perform as long as the coins kept dropping in the passed hats. We were always sorry to see them go.

One day our furniture and all our belongings were piled on a wagon. Of course, I was too young to understand what it was all about. After the furniture was on there, Mother and we children also climbed on the wagon. It seems that my father and older brother Hershel were already on the way somewhere. We traveled through the countryside, the first I had ever seen. There were fields of ripe grain blowing in the breeze, but what excited me most was to see roofs of houses sticking out of the ground. Of course I didn't understand what it was all about. I later heard that the peasants built their houses that way to keep them warm in winter and cool in the summer.

And while we were on the way the wagon stopped at a farmhouse. My mother stopped and talked to the ladies that came out, and pretty soon the ladies sent a bucket down into a well. When the bucket came up, she poured some liquid into glasses for us to drink. It was the most delicious sour milk we'd ever had, and I then thought that that's where sour milk came from, from a well. of course, I learned afterwards that it was kept there to keep it cool in the summertime.

Our next stop was a city called Lomze [Lomza]. I understand that it belongs to Poland now, but at that time it was part of Russia. Very much didn't happen in Lomze, so I won't say too much about it, but go on to our next stop, which was Yekatarineslav [since renamed to Dnepropetrovsk]. I tried to find it on the map, but have since learned that the name has been changed to something else, during the revolution, so I have no idea what part of Russia that was.

I believe the happiest time of my childhood was when we went to Grodno to where my grandfather lived. He lived in a log house that he had built himself. It was really a suburb of Grodno across from the Nemen river and it was called Fershtot. This house was on the top of a hill overlooking the river. It was a wonderful place for us children because we could run up and down the hill and run down the hill to bathe in the river. In the wintertime some of that road was frozen and we could slide down the road. We didn't skate because we didn't have any skates. Sometimes we saw other children on the river skating, but for us to have such a thing a skates was quite out of the question.

The house consisted of a large room where we spent most of our time. In that room was a wooden table with a bench on each side of the table. and there we sat where Grandfather started to teach us the alef-beys and how to pronounce the words. and what I remember was him saying in a sing-song voice "komets alef o, komets beys bo, komets gimel go" [Melody: b d c b c] and so forth and so on. But we finally learned the simple alef-beys and how to pronounce simple words. And the song "afn pripetchek" that most Jews have heard. When I hear it it always reminds me of that room, because in that room there was a pripetchek and there was a fire on there in the cold winter days.

Then I must go back again when we first moved to this wonderful old house. It seems it was just before Pesakh, the Passover. And what preparations were going on! First of all, dishes had to be brought down from the attic to be kashered. Pots and pans where there was only one set (very few people could afford one special set for Passover), they were made kosher by putting them in a large tub and throwing in bricks or stones that was fired to intense heat. When they landed in the water they made a hissing sound, and when the water cooled off, the pots and pans were taken out and they were then kosher for Passover. The house was scoured from top to bottom. The windows were washed, probably once a year, I'm not sure, and little curtains were put on the windows. And my sister Zeldie made some artificial flowers to put on the window. The kitchen floor was covered with sawdust, and everything looked so wonderfully festive. And then that Passover. Oh, what a wonderful, wonderful feast, with chicken soup, and matses, and chicken, and also gefilte fish, and fruit. What a celebration! I don't remember any such joy any other time.

Of course, after Passover there was the holiday of Purim. [This recollection is inaccurate; Purim comes one month before Passover.] My mother was baking homentashen. And that was a time when the neighbors all exchanged gifts, and it was mostly of food. They would put some fruit and some homentashen and I don't know what else on a plate covered with a napkin and bring it to the neighbors. And the neighbors in turn would bring these same gifts to us. It was called shalakh monnes [sending foodstuffs]. What that means I really don't know, but anyway it was a time for feasting.

The next holiday I remember was Rosh haShono, a very sacred holiday. The father and mother went to shul. We kids, of course, stayed at home. We were too little to go along. And also there was very good food to eat. There was gefilte fish and chicken soup and chicken and cake. And the next day what they called a tsholent. It was food put into the oven the afternoon before and taken out piping hot the next day, and how delicious it was!

I forgot to mention that in the kitchen of that house there was a big oven built out of the earth, I think. The bread was baked in that oven, and in the front was a place for cooking. And under the cooking part was a little enclosure with a little iron gate. And in the wintertime some chickens were kept in that little enclosure. And sometimes when the chickens came out they flew all over the house and everybody tried to catch them, which was almost impossible. But they'd fly up to the ceiling and sit on the rafters, and that wasn't very good.

After Rosh haShono came Sukkes, and that was also a time of great excitement. There was a beautiful sukkie built out in the yard covered with leaves and twigs. And every morning a man would come with what they called an esreg and a lulev and mother would make a little prayer, and mother would pay the man and then he went on to the next house. We ate in that sukkie, and that was so wonderful. With white tablecloths spread out there, with the candles, and the holiday food, and it was a time of great joy and great feasting, something really to remember.

The next holiday was Khaneke. And that was another time of rejoicing. I didn't mention earlier that the synagogues were at the end of the street where we lived. And we children would go to the synagogue and dance around the bima. During Khaneke we'd carry candles and dance around there and sing some Khaneke songs.

And during that holiday of Khaneke I remember the snow beginning to fall. It was an evening and I was looking out of one of the little windows and saw the snow piling up and piling up and piling up. The next morning the snow was over the windows and over the back door. Father had to shovel his way out. And it took several days before they shoveled enough snow away from the front of the house so that anybody could get out. I remember that the snow was so high I remember wagons driving on top of the snow. It must have been several feet. At this time I can't really estimate what it was, but the wagons were driving above the level of our windows. That snow stayed there all winter and when it started to melt, you can use your imagination of what happened to our muddy streets.

During the winter the winter had frozen solid, so solid that the wagons would ride across it. The people could walk from Fershtot to Grodno. In the spring time when that ice broke up, I will never forget to this day, the terrible sound of the ice breaking up. It was like cannons shooting. It was terrifying. And then when it was all broken up, the great big chunks of ice started floating down the river. I don't know how long it took for the ice to disappear, but it finally did disappear and then spring had come.

While living in my grandfather's log house, my father invented a mengl [clothes press]. Naturally, it was quite a crude affair. It was made of - well, it looked to be, it looked real huge. It took up almost, well, it took up the most part of that large room that I shall call the living room. It looks like two huge boxes filled with large stones. In order to make the mengl run, there was some wheels, and a handle had to be turned. There was a roller under those boxes. The clothes were wound around the rollers in order to press them. The neighbors used to come in and mengl their clothes. And once in a while when they wanted to give us kids a treat, they'd sit us in the mengl on top of the stones, perhaps not only to give us a ride but to add more pressure to the mengl. We really enjoyed it; it was quite fun. I hope you who are listening can visualize what a monstrosity that must have been.

The little street where we lived, all the houses there were occupied by Jewish people. But a little bit down the hill was another street which we called the "goyishe gas" [gentile street]. And that's where the gentiles lived. Also almost across street from the house was a Roman Catholic cathedral with a high wall around it. There were fruit trees inside the wall. We couldn't ever go inside the wall; that was forbidden, but we could see the apples over the wall. Once in a while an apple would fall on our side, and we kids would dash for that apple. They told us that we shouldn't take those apples, we should throw them back over the wall, but who would listen to such a foolish thing?

From Fershtot we moved to the main city of Grodno across the river. I remember it was just a small apartment. It had a living room and two bedrooms, and we were a family of eight. We children liked it because there was a little river right near where we were living, and we used to love to go down to this river, take off our shoes and stockings, and wade in that river. It was a muddy little thing, and quite dirty. `Cause we children had no real toys. One day I saw what looked like a ball at one end of that creek. I was determined to get that ball, `cause I'd see other children playing with a ball, and how I envied them! Well, I started going in for the ball. It wasn't too long before I was over my head. Somebody, I don't remember who, pulled me out. If they hadn't, I might not be telling this story now.

It seems a short time after we lived in this place my father, who had quite a lot of friends, they would come in. Mother would set up the samovar. His friends and Father were around the samovar drinking tea, and every now and then I got to hear the name of London, Ingland, and Ingland, and to me, I thought Ingland was a land that hangs somewhere in the air. Not being old enough to understand what was going on, to my sorrow, I soon learned that Father was planning to go to England. It wasn't very long thereafter that he and my brother Hershel went away to England and Mother and we kids were left in Grodno.

We couldn't afford the accommodations that we had, which were really quite nice, compared to other things, so we moved in a little attic not far from the river. My aunt, my mother's sister, lived downstairs, and Mother would be so anxiously waiting for a letter from father, longing for the day when we could join him in England. Money must have been very very scarce at that time. There was not much food to eat. We were living on soup, and bread, and herring.

And one day all of us kids came down with the measles. I remember there were two beds. There were two of us in each bed. And what a sad time that was! And also, my maternal grandfather lived not too far away, so he came in one day and it seems that the oven in that little attic, the damper had been - there was something wrong with the damper, and we were almost overcome. Somebody called Grandfather, and he called a doctor. Anyway, there was a lot of excitement, and we were revived. And I heard later that if that hadn't happened very soon none of us would have survived; we would have been poisoned by what they called some kind of a gas; I really don't know what it was.

It wasn't long after this that they got a letter from Father begging us to have a photograph taken because he was getting very lonesome. So, to have a photograph taken, we didn't have the proper clothes. So sister Zeldie and Mother went out to a dry-goods store and bought some material to make three dresses for us three younger girls. It was navy blue and some lighter material for trimming. and in several days we had our new dresses. And then, wonder of wonders, mother hired a droshky, we had never been in one before, in order to get to the photographer's. We got there and the photographer started placing us in position. He put something back of our heads so we couldn't move, and then he told us to hold perfectly still, which we did, and it wasn't too long before he said that we were all done. Then the waiting to see the finished picture. There is one hanging in my bedroom now. I think everyone in the family has a copy. It was great joy to see that we looked like human beings.

And it wasn't too long after that that we got money from Father for tickets to come tom him to London. And what great rejoicing to think that at last we were all going to be together. So I don't know how long it was, we put on our best clothes and we packed what little belongings we had, and again we got into a droshky to go to the railroad station, and we drove to the station and then we got on a train, and the train took us to a place called - I can't think of the name of the city where the train took us - but that's the place we boarded the boat to take us across the English Channel to England.

The boat, as I remember, was just a flat wooden tub. There was a cabin on side for the women and children and a cabin on the other side for the men. When mealtime came, there was a man, it must have been an English ship, because he would holler out, "tea." And we didn't know what tea was; we always called it "tey." And he'd call "tea" and "tea," and everyone would come with a bowl. And the food he had consisted of herring and potatoes and tea. And we had the same thing for three meals a day. Potatoes, herring, and tea. I don't know how long it took us on that tub of a boat until we came to Southampton.

And, incidentally, I enjoyed that trip, because at night, and I remember it was moonlight, and there were musicians on deck playing music, and I danced to the music. I didn't know how to dance, but I danced anyway, and everybody applauded. And I think that was one of the highlights of my trip on that old tub.

Well, we finally got to Southampton. In Southampton we got on a train again. And that train took us to London. By the time we got to London it was already dark. And we were taken to some kind of room, a station of some kind, and Father wasn't there. He was supposed to meet us, and he wasn't there. And Mother had forgotten his address, and we were rather in a panic. So my mother said, of course, in a usual Yiddish, ``Children, don't be afraid. I will go on the street. I will meet a Jew. And I will tell him your father's name. And that he's a carpenter. And he will know where to find father.'' And, believe it or not, that's exactly what happened. She found a man who knew Father.

And Father came, and we all went where he was living. It was a great big basement, and his carpenter shop was right in the basement. There was a bed there, and a couple of couches, and we all went to sleep there. And the next morning I went out on the street to see what it looked like in London. And there were girls there jumping rope. I had never seen any rope jumping. And one of the girls came up to me and talked in English, but of course I couldn't understand what she was saying, and all the others started to laugh. And she, realizing what was the matter, and she knew Jewish, so she told me in Yiddish that they were calling me names: "Men ruft dir nemen." [nemen means either "names" or "to take".] In Yiddish, that means "They're coming to take you away," so I get scared to death and ran into my mother, and told her, they were calling somebody to take me away, and she says, "A vu? Where are they going to take you?" And she ran out and talked ... [side one of the tape finishes here.]

When I started this recording, I didn't mention the dates. The simple reason: I simply wasn't conscious at that time. I must have been about two and a half years old at the time of my first mention of Byalostok. The year must have been about 1898 as well as I can figure it out now. In Lomzi it was probably about a year later, and I remember telling someone who asked me my age that I was four years old and that my brother was three. In Katerinoslav I was approximately five years old and the date must have been about 1895 [sic. I expect more like 1900]. From Grodno to London: I know that we landed in London in 1902, in America about 1904. That was when we landed in New York. >From New York we were shipped to Rock Island and we lived there two years until we went to Chicago. And we were in Chicago in 1906. At that time I was conscious of dates and time.

And now to continue about London. The most exciting things there, of course, was starting to go to school. The first school we started, it was three old buildings which had formerly been some kind of church. There was a separate building for boys, a separate one for the girls, and a separate building for the kindergarten, or the infants, as they called it in London.

Starting to learn to read and write English, when we knew nothing about it, was quite a thing. We used slates and slate pencils, and we had to copy figures on the board, letters and figures. And then we had to learn some arithmetic. And it was a little difficult at first but it wasn't too long before I started to get the idea. Now learning spelling was something we did out loud. Like, for instance, we would say, "I N in, T O to, into, T H E, the," and so on and so forth. After we were in school, I don't know how many months, we were finally given pen and ink to write. And that was quite a thrill. And it seemed that I was learning a little bit faster than the others, so it wasn't too long before I was put in a higher grade.

I remember living in a basement flat, where the floors were all of cement and dreadfully cold. In the kitchen we had a linoleum, so that wasn't so bad. Now Father and Uncle Hershel [Esther is addressing her children; she means her brother Hershel] used the large room which was supposed to be a living room. They used that for a carpenter's shop. They were making mahogany desks to order for a special furniture company. If I remember correctly, the desks were made of mahogany. Of course they had to be made by hand, and I think it took them approximately one week to finish one desk. When it was finished, they would put that desk on a barrow, what we call a wheelbarrow here, and they would cart it down, I don't know how many blocks, to get it to the factory. And then they got paid for the work. And then Mother went out to buy food for the week.

We lived on Bethenel Green Road. I think that was part of what we know now as Whitechapel. And right close to our street was one street called Brick Lane, and that was sort of a market place. It was lined with barrows, or wheelbarrows, and all manner of goods and food were sold there. Saturday night was a very exciting time, because then they all had the flaring lights out on the barrows.

And there was one place that my brother Abe and I (I called him Abram at that time), we loved to watch this man because he held sort of an auction. He was selling candy, caramels in particular, and all sorts of nicknacks. And he'd put a few caramels on a newspaper, and he'd say, ``"How much am I bid?" How much am I bid? Twopence, threepence, take your price. I'll take any money, any price, take any money, I'll take any money.'' and from then on Abe and I started to call the man "Take any money."We out of watching him. So every Saturday night, there we were, listening to "Take any money."

We weren't in London too long before we heard Father talking about going to America, the goldene land, where the streets were paved with gold. It sounded very exciting. Of course, it took quite a long time. I don't know how long, before he saved up enough money for him and my brother Hershel to leave for America, but the day finally came, and off they went.

Mother and my sister Lena, or Zelda, and we four kids remained in London. And it wasn't a very happy time. We had to move to a very small apartment on the fourth floor of a building. Of course there was no electricity, and our only form of heating at that time was a fireplace where we burned coke. We did have gas lights on a meter, and in order to get light, we had to put a quarter, or rather, a shilling, in the meter. And I think they lasted for about an hour, or two hours, I'm not real sure. And when the lights began to dim, we had to put in another coin in the meter. And coins were not very plentiful.

Mother, of course, was a dressmaker, and she was always working on the machine. She made all our clothes. But in order to supplement our income, she started doing sewing for other people. And that gave us enough, I think, to pay food, and still we started to get some money from Father from New York.

I think we were in London about two years. Or until 1904, until finally the wonderful letter came that my mother was looking for, with a money order to buy tickets for all of us to come to New York. Oh, what a happy time that was! In order to cash that money order, Mother had to go to the Bank of London. She couldn't speak a word of English. The Bank of London was a great distance. How she ever got there and got the money I will never know, but Mother was the sort of little woman who got things done, no matter what obstacles were on the way.

I must mention that a few months after my father left, Lena and my brother Hershel and a friend of theirs managed somehow, because they were working and earning some money, they managed to buy tickets and go to New York. They left, and then it was just Mother and we four younger children who remained in London. But by 1904, after we had been in London, we left for New York. And that was a great, wonderful day.

We got on a ship, and we had very good accommodations. Most of the people at our standard of living had to go in steerage, but for some reason or other, we were given a private cabin with two double-deck bunks, so there was plenty of room for all of us to sleep. Mother and my sister Fan and Rose and myself and brother Abe. There was also a sink in that room with running water! We had never had such luxuries. And we got to eat in the great big dining room, and the food was very plentiful, and very, very good. We never had it so good.

Well, one day a terrific storm came up. Everybody was in their bunks seasick. But Mother and we four kids, I guess we were a very healthy lot, we didn't get sick at all. When we got to that great big dining room, my mother and we four kids were the only ones in that huge room. The waiter looked at us in amazement, and he said, ``My goodness. One, two, three, four, five Greenfields and not another person here.'' I don't quite remember how many days that were on that voyage, but we enjoyed it tremendously. I even went out on deck during that storm, and one of the sailors caught me, and he said, "You go downstairs, immediately," and gave me couple of pats on my backside, and said, "Don't come up here!" I went down crying. I did want to see those waves. They were just wonderful, but no, that was not allowed, and they were really responsible for the youngsters.

And one day we got very ambitious, Abe and I, we went up where it says something there about third class passengers forbidden, but we paid no attention to the sign and we went on to the upper deck. And pretty soon a sailor came along, said, "What are you brats doing up here? Down with you!" Down we went the stairway and decided we'd better not go where we're not wanted.

Well, we finally came to the great harbor of New York, and I will never forget the thrill and the excitement, when we saw the Statue of Liberty. I will never forget it, because we had heard so much about the land of freedom, the land of money, the land where it's really a paradise. Well, we landed at Ellis Island. And we were well-fed. The food was good. I remember they gave us soup, and meat, and potatoes, all we wanted to eat, and it was really glorious. And after a short wait, there was my father, and my brother Hershel, and Lena, to greet us.

I don't remember what conveyance we had from Ellis Island to where we were going, but we got to the flat where father had rented and furnished. And I believe there were three rooms there: There was a kitchen and a dining room and a bedroom. But somehow we managed to accommodate ourselves for sleeping in those three rooms. Father and Mother had the one bedroom, and the rest of us had to manage in the other three rooms. I forgot to mention that there was a young man traveling with us. I don't know what relationship he was, but he always seemed to be there, and his name was Abram. And there he was. Wherever we went, he went.

Well, after three weeks, Mother said she doesn't like New York, she's not going to stay in New York, and if we don't go somewhere else, she's going to jump right into the river. And Father, knowing money as he did, he took her at her word. But what to do? Where to go? Well, we talked to people about this, and they said, ``Yes, every now and then a family comes to New York, and they don't want to stay there.'' And they recommended that Father go to some agency that was run by the wealthy German Jews, said that they would take care of an immigrant family.

Well, he went there, and he came back with very good news. He said that they would pay our fare to Rock Island, Illinois. The reason they chose Rock Island because Father told them his trade as a cabinet maker and carpenter, specializing in door and window frames. They said, well there was a Rock Island sash and door works where they needed help. So that's where they sent us. They bought our tickets. They bought us food for the train. I remember there was a couple loads of rye bread and pumpernickel bread and herring and sausage and put us on the train. How long it took from New York to Rock Island I don't know. But there we came to Rock Island, Illinois.

The time was sometimes in July, 1904. And after staying in somebody's boarding house until we could find a place to live, the folks finally found a nice little five-room house. It was two stories. And it had a nice yard, and a tree. And we kids had never had a tree of our own. And Father made us a swing. It was heavenly! It was just wonderful. We never had such pleasure. And after Father got his paycheck - well, for several weeks, Lena and Mother went out and bought a few luxuries, like a carpet for the front room. It was red with white flowers. And a shade for the living room window. We had never seen anything quite so wonderful.

When September came, it was time to go to school. And there was a school not too far from where we lived, and the name of it was the Eugene Field. Of course, I was still wearing my London clothes. I was wearing the shoes that were twelve-button shoes. In London we called them boots. And here, I believe, they would also be known as boots. They put me in the third grade, due to my age. I think I was eight or nine years old at the time, I don't know exactly. The teacher's name was Miss Johnson. It was a very nice school, and all the children looked so clean, and well dressed. I felt rather shabby, but that couldn't be helped.

And the teacher asked me when was my birthday. And I said I didn't know. I didn't know, I never heard of having a birthday. So she started asking, and by some hints according to what I could tell her, what my mother - well, Mother couldn't tell her, she couldn't talk a word of English, but she told me - we decided that I was born early in September, somewhere between either 1904 and 1905, it was never quite established. But we took the date of 1905, September the fifth. [It appears she means 1895] I have to stick to it all these years. When I was really born I'll never know.

I don't know just how long we lived in that house. Mother became dissatisfied because there were no Jews around there. She wanted to move into a Jewish neighborhood, where there were other Jews, somebody she could talk to. Of course, nobody could blame her for that. So we started asking. And incidentally, an apple peddler came to the house very frequently. His name was Harry Roth and he peddled apples. And he seemed to have taken a shine to my sister Lena. She was rather a pretty girl. She was about 18 at the time. Well, through Harry Roth we learned where the Jewish neighborhood was, and it wasn't too long before we moved out of this house, which was on 5th Avenue, where there were no Jews, and we moved on 9th Street, with Jews all around us, and a street where they had Jewish markets. Mother was in heaven.

It wasn't too long after that that Lena and Harry Roth started going steady, and before long Lena and Harry were married. And they moved out of the house and rented their own little flat. But the tragedy that happened then: Lena, for her house, wanted our carpet and our window shades, and she took them along, along with so many other things that we had treasured. But, the oldest sister, as she helped buy that red carpet, there wasn't a thing to do about it. And there was our poor little living room with a bare wooden floor.

We enrolled in a school in the neighborhood; it was called the Hawthorne School. And my teacher's name was Miss Battles. And it wasn't too long before they noticed that we children, especially my sister Fan and I, were talented in drawing. And Miss Battles was so proud of us. And she had us make ink drawings which she would hang on the wall and it made us very very happy.

Well, we lived in Rock Island about two years, when Mother said that Rock Island was too small a city, that it's not good for girls, we should move to a larger city. She had an aunt living in Chicago with whom she corresponded. And pretty soon it was agreed that we leave Rock Island and go to the big city of Chicago, because at that time, I must have been about, oh, 12 years old, Fannie and Rose were old enough to go to work. There was no such thing as working in a small city, Rock Island, so we moved to Chicago.

As usual, Father had to go first to make arrangements. But for some reason or other, he took me along. None of the other kids, but he took me. I don't know why. We went by train, and my aunt and uncle met us and took us to their apartment, which was a very miserable place in a basement. But that's where we stayed for I don't know how long, until Father sent for the rest of the family.

Well, the rest of the family were coming. My aunt decided they need a better apartment. She had a lease on the place and couldn't just leave it. So if we would move into that basement apartment, Father could send for the rest of us. And that's what happened. And we moved in this basement. It was on Division Street and it was a miserable place. It was damp, and it was cold, and there were rats running around in the yard. The toilet was outside. That one toilet - oh, yes, it was a two-seater - but it had to be used by the family upstairs and by us. So it wasn't very nice, but that's where we stayed until we could afford something better.

At that time, my folks decided that we should buy a house. So from the meager income that came in, they started saving money. I remember there was a little top drawer in a dresser someplace where they saved money. As soon as they had $200 saved up, they said it was time to buy a house. That $200 was enough to put down as a first payment on a house. So they started looking for houses. Well, they finally found one, on Rockwell Street and Bloomingdale road, along a railroad track. Of course, I don't know how much the house cost, but the $200 deposit was quite enough. The house was a frame. It was two story. Downstairs there was a store, and upstairs there were two flats. And there was a flat in back of the store; I don't remember how many rooms. No facilities whatsoever; toilet was in the yard. But we moved in anyway. We managed to rent the upstairs.

And we could not rent the store. Nobody wanted to rent the store. So Mother decided we could run our own business. So we started a candy store. We didn't know anything about business. Of course, that didn't make any difference. My mother somehow managed to find out where to get merchandise. The merchandise consisted of some candy, some cigars, and some cigarettes, and ice cream. To our delight, of course, we kept noshing the candy, and all the profits that came in through the candy, we kids ate up. And every once in a while somebody would come in to buy some cigarettes. Well, I don't think we made much of a profit on that store.

But Fanny and Rose were old enough to go to work. So the only place they could go to work was in a garment factory. They both got jobs as buttonhole makers in a garment factory. Fanny was 13 and Rose was 14, and they took them out of school, and away they went to work. I was lucky, being younger, so I got to continue school, but I was told as soon as I am 13, I too will have to quit school and go to work. That make me very, very sad.

I happened to be very good in school. I was always at the top of my class. The teacher and the principal were very proud of me. And then I told them - oh, yes, and they said that when I get to high school I won't find it difficult at all, because I was learning so quickly - so I told them that, sadly, I wouldn't get to go to high school because at 13 I had to quit school and go to work. Well, both my teacher, whose name was Miss Foog, and the principal, whose name was Miss Patterson, had a conference about me. I was in 6th grade at the time. And they said, well it was just a pity that I couldn't finish grammar school so I could go on to high school. So the principal called me into her office. And she said she would give me some books to study over vacation. She gave me a history and a geography book. Said study both two books. If you pass your examination when school starts, you can skip the 7th grade and go right on to the 8th grade, and then you can graduate and go on to high school. Well, I was very happy at the thought. I took the books and I studied very, very diligently. When vacation was over, Miss Patterson gave me the exam. I passed it very easily, and then instead of going to the 7th grade, they put me into the 8th grade.

Even though I had skipped a grade, I found no difficulty to keep up with the other children. In fact, it wasn't very long before I was ranked first in the class. At graduation, I was at the head of my class. My average was 94 plus. And I was honored during graduation time, when I got my diploma. I really got a standing ovation from the entire assembly for graduating. And I was so very, very happy. And I had hoped I could continue my education, but I knew back in my mind that that would be quite impossible.

Well, soon after graduation I had to go out and find a job. Without any training or any know-how at all. I did get a job at Wieboldt's department store on Milwaukee avenue, as what they called a cashier girl. Three dollars a week. Well, three dollars was three dollars, but I wasn't happy with being a cash girl. That just meant taking the merchandise and the money to the cashier, and take them to the customer. So I got permission to go to High School at night.

So, I started going to night school, to take up bookkeeping. I felt I had to work with figures and something that took some brain-work. So I went to night school, and it was wintertime, and it was cold. I didn't know enough to be afraid to be out alone, but I suppose my parents decided that was not the thing for a young girl to do. So they decided they would let me enter business college. It was $10 a month, and was a years' course, and somehow, if possible, they would scrape up that $10 a month and let me go to business college. That was a happy, happy thought. Well, I enrolled at the Metropolitan Business College. Pay them the $10 for a month's tuition. And I was learning - and I was told that we can work as fast as we were able to. That it usually took a year, but it can be done in less time if you learn quickly. Well, to make a long story short, I did. [end of side two of the tape.]