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The Gift of Elaine and 
 Allen Avner, in Memory 
 of their Parents Herman 
 & Pearl Seltzer Sweital 
 and Sim & Laura Moore 
 
 University of Illinois 
 at Urbana-Champaign 
 
 ILLINOIS HISTORICAL SURVEY 
 
 
 
 
 

 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/myfirsteightyyeaOOhorw 
 

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MY FIRST 
 
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 WICH 
 
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BERNARD HORWICH 
 
 From Painting By John Doctor^ 
 
MY FIRST 
 EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 By 
 
 BERNARD HORWICH 
 
 
 CHICAGO 
 ARGUS BOOKS 
 
 19 3 9 
 
COPYRIGHT 1939 
 
 By 
 
 BERNARD HORWICH 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 

 In loving memory of five 
 brothers, this volume is 
 reverently dedicated by the 
 sixth. 
 
"REMEMBER THE DAYS OF OLD, 
 
 CONSIDER THE YEARS OF MANY GENERATIONS: 
 
 ASK THY FATHER, AND HE WILL DECLARE UNTO THEE; 
 
 THINE ELDERS, AND THEY WILL TELL THEE." 
 
 DEUTERONOMY: XXXII, 7 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 European Jewry, up to a generation or so ago, was divided into 
 two cultural groupings. Generally speaking, the Jews of Eastern 
 Europe lived under the influence of the traditional Jewish culture 
 and the Jews of Western Europe under the influence of the 
 modern Western culture. The non Jewish environment in the 
 towns and villages of Russia was at a far lower level than that 
 of the Jews, whereas the general cultural and scientific level in 
 Western Europe was higher than that of the Jews. This difference 
 created a profound divergence in mood between Eastern Jews and 
 Western Jews. The Jews of the East naturally concluded that 
 their inherited Talmudic culture was vastly superior in content, 
 mood and educative power to that of the world around them, and 
 therefore, choosing the higher culture, they became intensely 
 Jewish and lived on from generation to generation as if the outer 
 world did not exist. They were quite right in their choice; they 
 had selected the higher culture. The Jews of the West also chose 
 what seemed to them to be the higher culture, which in their case 
 was the culture of the environment. They abandoned the Talmud; 
 they flocked to the universities and became authors of German, 
 French, English literature. They soon grew to be more European 
 than Jewish. The fault of the Eastern Jew was that he scorned 
 modernity; the fault of the Western Jew was that he withdrew 
 from history. 
 
 The finest mental and spiritual types in modern Jewish life 
 came from a combination of both tendencies. The Jews of Galicia, 
 for example, had the old East European Talmudic culture but 
 being part of the Austrian Empire, assimilated, likewise, modern 
 scientific thinking. So, too, many of the Jews from Russia and 
 Poland moved into Western environments and the choicest spirits 
 among them, without abandoning the inherited past, added to it 
 
that which was best in the thought and mood of the modern 
 world. 
 
 Bernard Horwich represents the fine type of Eastern Jew who 
 lives worthily in both worlds. The profound Jewishness of his 
 Lithuanian environment became a permanent part of his pep 
 sonality. It has never been eradicated. All his interest in intensely 
 Jewish causes grows from the soil of his childhood. But his atti' 
 tudes and activities have grown up in the atmosphere of America 
 and without losing their vigor are modified in type. Like the 
 typical Western Jew, he has a sense of discipline, order and prog' 
 ress. He is a leader in all causes which involve new and practical 
 understanding of the changing problems of Jewish and American 
 life. 
 
 I always was happy to see him in the congregation when I 
 preached in Chicago. Those Talmudic and Midrashic references 
 which a rabbi feels impelled to embody in his sermons and 
 addresses and which are generally meaningless to the average 
 member of the congregation, were always familiar and meaningful 
 to him. I always felt that, Jewishly, he and I spoke the same 
 language. Also, the new application of the old ideals to the change 
 ing mood of present-day life never seemed unwarranted or heret- 
 ical to him because he is profoundly a modern man. 
 
 I am happy to write these few words of introduction to his 
 memoirs. He represents to me the fine type of Jew who lives in 
 the modern world knowing that the sources of his strength come 
 from an older world. Bernard Horwich has won the West without 
 losing the East. 
 
 Solomon B. Freehof. 
 
 May 5, 1939. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 About three years ago, for the first time in my life, I had the 
 experience of being really ill. For about seven weeks, I was laid up 
 with pneumonia. This being a dangerous illness, especially for one 
 of my age, it caused me to think of many things that I had pre' 
 viously had little time to dwell upon. 
 
 Through the long days and nights, as I lay helpless, knowing 
 my recovery to be doubtful, the complete panorama of my life 
 unrolled before my vision. 
 
 It was at the age of five that I first became conscious of myself 
 as an individual, and in my mind's eye I went over all that had 
 happened to me in my seventyodd years of activity since then. 
 Living over the details of my life, and taking inventory, as it were, 
 of the entire scene, I came to this conclusion — that if all the pleas' 
 ures and joys I had experienced were put on one side of a scale, 
 and all the trials, sorrows and anxieties on the other side, the 
 latter would greatly overbalance the former. 
 
 It has certainly not been an easy road that I have traveled, 
 and my chief consolation has ever been in my hope for the future. 
 Always, when beset by difficulties, or grieving over past disap' 
 pointments, I have raised my spirits by looking forward to a bet' 
 ter tomorrow. 
 
 Now, as I lay ill, it seemed that there might not be another 
 tomorrow for me. I began to feel despondent, although not 
 through fear of death. I have never been afraid of dying. When' 
 ever I felt refreshed after a good night's sleep, I remembered the 
 saying of the Talmud, that sleep is only the sixtieth part of death. 
 If sleep is so wonderful a rest, being but the sixtieth part of death, 
 how peaceful must death itself be! 
 
 No, it was not fear of death that made me sad. It was that I 
 was brought forcibly face to face with the realization of the 
 
emptiness of life. Over and over in my mind ran the sayings of 
 Koheleth, son of David: 
 
 "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity/ 1 
 
 "A man hath no pre-eminence above a beast, for all is vanity. 
 All go unto one place. All are of the dust and all turn to dust 
 again." 
 
 "One generation passeth on — another generation cometh." 
 
 Lying there, weak and ill, I felt that I was indeed of the "gen- 
 eration that passeth on." And I began to meditate upon how 
 long I would be remembered after I was gone, and what would 
 be said of me. 
 
 From what I had observed in the case of other men, who had 
 preceded me — men who had been active in public life and well 
 known in their communities — I had a fair idea of what would 
 happen. There would be some who would praise me, and some 
 who would find fault. Some would be sorry, and some would 
 feel pleased because it was I and not they who had departed. But 
 most, I knew, would be indifferent, and within a short time, like 
 those others I had known, I would be forgotten. 
 
 It was then that I determined, if I recovered, to leave some- 
 thing behind so that my name might be remembered at least by 
 the present and future members of my own family. I recalled 
 that I had often been urged by various friends, at different times, 
 to write down the experiences of my life, which they felt would 
 be of interest to many, and I decided that, should I regain my 
 health and strength, I would set about this task. That was the 
 first time I gave serious consideration to the idea. 
 
 As I gave the matter further thought, I began to realise that 
 the biographies of the world have been concerned chiefly with 
 individuals of extreme types. The accomplishments of the great 
 and powerful, for good or bad, have been widely recorded 
 throughout history. The greatness of a Washington or Lincoln, 
 the tyranny of an Ivan, the Terrible, or a Hitler, have occupied 
 the attention of the majority of writers. But neglected, as a rule, 
 has been the vast middle class — the acknowledged backbone of 
 
civilisation — and in my book I decided to present the lives, the 
 hopes, the dreams and aspirations of a middle-class family, believ- 
 ing that their accomplishments, too, were of interest and value. 
 
 My further purpose, I determined, would be to portray the lives 
 of the Jews of the Old World and their adjustment to the New. 
 The period with which I was chiefly concerned was that during 
 which hundreds of thousands of poor immigrants, I among them, 
 came to America to seek their fortunes, with the eager hope that 
 here in this new land of freedom, they and their descendants might 
 fare better than in the old lands of persecution and intolerance. 
 I wanted to explain how this uprooting and transplanting, this 
 imposing of one civilisation and way of living upon another, had 
 varied effects, both serious and humorous; how some of these 
 immigrants were bewildered by this strange new world, and how 
 the great majority rose above the difficulties they encountered, 
 adjusted themselves to their new environment, and not only found 
 a place in it, but even contributed largely, in all fields of endeavor, 
 to the upbuilding of their adopted country. The valuable con- 
 tributions of this group as a whole should, I felt, be pointed out 
 particularly to the American-born citizens of this country, who 
 tend to regard their foreign-born compatriots as intruders and not 
 entitled to the same benefits that they enjoy. 
 
 I wished to explain, too, how the untrained Jewish immigrant 
 was forced, as I was, not by choice but by necessity, into industry 
 and business, when he found other means of employment closed 
 to him. 
 
 This is how the book came to be. I hope that others — mem- 
 bers of middle-class Jewish families like my own, will follow my 
 example, and record their accomplishments for posterity. Thus 
 may the world be made aware of the contributions of this impor- 
 tant but hitherto silent class to the progress of humanity. 
 
 Having been the first to come to this country, I have been called 
 the "Columbus" of my family, which now numbers about three 
 hundred and fifty members in America. Among them are working 
 men, professional men and business men. Some have done better 
 
than others, but they are all of the middle class. In all these years, 
 among all of them, there is not one I know of who has come in 
 conflict with the law — with the lone exception of my dear 
 brother Harris, whose humorous experience when he was accused 
 of keeping boxes of empty bottles on the sidewalk in front of his 
 place of business, is related in this book. 
 
 I am under no illusion that my book is a masterpiece, or that it 
 has any great merit. It has been written chiefly from memory, 
 and by a mind not so alert as formerly. I will be pleased if it is 
 better received than I anticipate. 
 
 It was during my above-mentioned illness, also, that I decided 
 to have executed the oil painting of me which appears as the 
 frontispiece of this volume. It is the work of the eminent artist, 
 Mr. John Doctoroff, who has, I am afraid, done me more than 
 justice. 
 
 There was another ambition that possessed me at the time of 
 my illness — one that I hope I shall live to see accomplished — 
 and that is to witness a change of government in Nazi Germany, 
 where the hope of our people, and of humanity at large, has been 
 so horribly crushed. 
 
 I pray that the time is not far off when the people of the world, 
 and chiefly the leaders of the people, will at last realize that we 
 are all children of one God — that He created us all, in the same 
 form; when the strong will not take advantage of the weak, nor 
 the mighty use their power to oppress and crush the defenseless; 
 when it is acknowledged that there is room in the world for all 
 people to live happily together. 
 
 August. 1939. 
 
 Bernard Horwich. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I My Boyhood in Poniemon - 1 
 
 II Starting Out in the World 51 
 
 III "The Land of Opportunity' 1 105 
 
 IV Early Chicago 130 
 
 V Family and Friends 1 56 
 
 VI Beginnings of Zionism 228 
 
 VII Communal Work 254 
 
 VIII Leading Chicago Zionists 29 3 
 
 IX War Relief 308 
 
 X My Visit to Palestine 371 
 
 XI I Draw a Few Conclusions 389 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Bernard Horwich Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 Jacob Horwich 80 
 
 Mrs. Bernard Horwich 160 
 
 Author and Family at Passover "Seder" 192 
 
 The Six Horwich Brothers 224 
 
 Zionist Leaders at Fifth Congress 256 
 
 Reception Committee for Dr. Nahum Sokolow 288 
 
 "Bread for Palestine" Committee 320 
 
 Snapshot of Harris Horwich 352 
 
 Author at Wailing Wall, Jerusalem 384 
 
 Palestinian Girls Breaking Stones 400 
 
 Cartoon Portraying Author and Dr. Chaim 
 
 Weizmann 416 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 
 
 Lithuania, a little bit of a country, with a present population 
 of only about two and a half million, lies wedged in between 
 three strong and none too amicable neighbors: Communist Russia, 
 Nasi Germany and Poland. Formerly Lithuania was a part of 
 the Csarist Empire. The World War and the Russian Revohi' 
 tion brought about its independence, however, so that now it 
 paddles its own canoe. 
 
 The river Niemon, the Rubicon of the 1812 Napoleonic cam' 
 paign, passes near Kaunas (once called Kovno) . It is the capital 
 city and metropolis of this country, and has a population of over 
 100,000, of which one-fourth are Jews. 
 
 Kovno was and still is the seat of the greatest rabbinate of 
 diaspora Jewry. In my time it was presided over by the then 
 famous and even now unforgotten Rabbi Itschak Elchanan 
 Spektor, whose vast learning and great wisdom made him the 
 outstanding rabbinic figure of his generation. 
 
 Across the river from Kovno lies the hamlet of Poniemon (in 
 Polish it means "on the Ni^non") . Here is where my story begins. 
 
 This obscure village, which never grew to more than a hundred 
 families, was the place of my birth. Here I arrived as an unwel' 
 come guest to my mother, for already possessing two sons, she 
 was very anxious that I be a girl. She had prayed, had had other 
 people pray, and had contributed to charity, all in the hope that 
 the Almighty would send her a pretty baby girl for her third 
 child, instead of a boy, especially one that turned out as unattrac- 
 tive as I. 
 
 It was in this hamlet that I first learned life's hardships, and 
 the weaknesses, the intolerance and the selfishness of human 
 beings. There I got my first taste, too, of what it means to be a 
 Jew. There, also, my parents peacefully rest in their graves. 
 
 l 
 
2 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Hence, little Poniemon, next to America, is dearest to my heart, 
 and remains engraved in my memory forever. 
 
 My little city had but a single street, four blocks long. This 
 was bisected in the center by a square block of land, divided into 
 two parts. One part was of pure sand, and was called the Sand 
 Islet. The other part, which contained a few dosen trees and some 
 grass, was called the Grove, or the Woods. For that reason, the 
 people of the town considered this thoroughfare to be two streets. 
 Each one called the place where he lived 'This Street," and the 
 opposite end "The Other Street." 
 
 The section coming from Kovno had a Jewish cemetery at its 
 starting point, while at the extreme end on the other side was the 
 Catholic cemetery. The street with the Jewish cemetery had a 
 small House of Worship for daily prayer and a large Synagogue 
 for holidays or for special festivals. The street with the Catholic 
 cemetery had another small Jewish house of prayer, but a very 
 sizeable Catholic Church to accommodate the peasants streaming 
 in from miles around, for in Poniemon itself there were only four 
 Christian families. 
 
 The river Niemon starts from somewhere in Russia and runs 
 through a part of Lithuania, through East Prussia, into the Baltic 
 Sea. For the inhabitants of our town, the river had advantages 
 and disadvantages the whole year round. During the summer 
 months the people had a place in which to bathe, to catch fish and 
 to enjoy life generally; but the disadvantage was that, since there 
 was no bridge across the river to Kovno, they had to pay for 
 being taken across in a rowboat. 
 
 This business of taking passengers up and back from Kovno 
 across the river was the cause of a great deal of friction. The 
 representatives of the community had to decide who should get 
 the contract for the privilege. An elderly man, by the name of 
 Itziel, had a sort of monopoly on it, and as soon as spring came 
 and the river was cleared of ice, there were a great many quarrels 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 3 
 
 and arguments as to why this Itsel should be the privileged char- 
 acter. It was quite a business, and would bring in about two 
 hundred roubles (one hundred dollars) for the season of six 
 months. The people were always left dissatisfied, no matter how 
 the controversy ended. 
 
 In the winter, the river would freeze, so that the people could 
 not only walk across, but also ride across on sleds. However, the 
 danger of the river overflowing in the spring, when the ice started 
 to break up, would always create anxiety and fear. Often the 
 river would rise and overflow to such a distance that many of the 
 houses were greatly damaged. The whole town would then be 
 cut off from Kovno, which meant from the world. 
 
 Among the Jewish notables of the town was Rabbi Avremil, a 
 man of deep piety, great learning and good common sense; also 
 Moshe, Velvel and Abram Feinberg, of the Shatenstein family, 
 who leased tracts of forest land from the Russian Government, 
 felled the trees and exported the finished timber, chiefly to Ger- 
 many. Abram, called Avremsik, was the "prince" of this family. 
 In addition to being a good business man, he was also a perfect 
 gentleman and scholar, not only learned in Hebrew but in world 
 literature as well — a man highly respected for his piety, honesty 
 and modesty. 
 
 The four brothers of the Bregstone family, Selig, Shaane, 
 Abram and Moshe, known to us as "the Bregstones of the moun- 
 tain," were also among the outstanding men of the town. They 
 had a farm in the hills nearby, which supplied them with their 
 provisions. They tried their luck in business, but without great 
 success. Though not rich, they were looked upon as "well-to-do" 
 and good men. The brothers were partners in all their ventures, 
 and there never was any friction or misunderstanding among 
 them or their children. This in itself was proof of the fine temper 
 of the family. 
 
4 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 The other men in public life in my town, besides the Rabbi, 
 were two teachers, a cantor, and a "shochet." A shochet is one 
 who kills chickens, or cattle, in accordance with Jewish tradi' 
 tions. There was also a barber, who acted as assistant to the 
 physicians, whenever one came to town. We likewise boasted a 
 synagogue beadle, a store keeper, two tailors, a shoemaker and a 
 blacksmith. The remainder were what we call "windmen," or 
 jacks of all trades. 
 
 One of the interesting characters of Poniemon, whose activities 
 shed some light on the life of my native town seventy years ago, 
 was Yehuda Yamkeles, the Jewish night watchman. 
 
 During the day the village was protected by a man appointed 
 by the "voit," or mayor. Though not a Jew, he loved Jewish food. 
 His appetite was always good, and his thirst great, and being an 
 fc 'official 1 ' of the town, he managed to get all the food and drink 
 he could stand. Since no offense against the law was ever known 
 to have been committed in our community, this policeman had 
 nothing to do but spend his time going from house to house, greet' 
 ing everybody and getting something to eat or drink. 
 
 At night, however, since no official protection was provided, 
 the leaders of the town thought it important to employ a night 
 watchman; but I am sure Yehuda Yamkeles thought differently, 
 for in all the years he was so employed, nothing ever happened 
 to disturb the peaceful sleep of the townspeople. 
 
 Our watchman was a tall, lanky, overgrown man of about 
 seventy, bent by ill health. A victim of asthma, his breathing was 
 so bad that he could hardly speak. His duties were to go through 
 the streets from one end to the other three times a night; but 
 since this was too strenuous for him, he would walk only a little 
 way, and then shout at the top of his voice, "Beware, I, the night 
 watchman, am here," in order to frighten thieves away. 
 
 This candidate for the grave was the guard and protector of 
 our city from sunset to sunrise. His chief problem was how to kill 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 5 
 
 time, but since he knew the Psalms by heart, he would spend the 
 nights reciting Psalms and praying to God for the welfare of the 
 Jewish people throughout the world. 
 
 My parents' families were, from the material point of view, 
 only a trifle above the level of the poor, but were known to be 
 very honest. I always feel proud of the fact that character, not 
 wealth, was the measure of a man in this little hamlet. Although 
 seventy-five per cent of the population lived in the direst poverty, 
 regard for one's fellowman was based not on his possessions, but 
 on his learning, piety and honesty. 
 
 My father was not a native of Poniemon. He came there as a 
 young man to study the Talmud and acquire Jewish knowledge 
 in general, and being poor, was supported during this period, as 
 was their wont, by the Jewish townspeople. Seven families, who 
 could afford it and were willing to do so, obligated themselves to 
 provide his meals on successive days of the week. This method 
 of providing food for poor students was customary throughout 
 Jewry. Such students were known as guests or "dayeaters." 
 Since many of these families were themselves very poor, it was 
 arranged that each student should have a fair provision of food 
 for at least three days a week. For example, if he had a poor 
 Monday, with an impoverished family, he was compensated by 
 having a good Tuesday, with a family better situated, and so on. 
 
 It so happened that my father had one of his "eating days" at 
 the house of Grandfather David Horwich, where my mother 
 lived, and according to reports, she decided she would marry him. 
 It was not a question of falling in love. God forbid! Talk of love 
 in those days was considered wicked and immoral. No Jewish 
 girl would dare to mention the word. She wanted to marry him 
 because he was a good student, pious, modest and well liked by 
 the good people of the town, especially by the Rabbi. She had 
 her way. 
 
6 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Father was indeed an exceptional man in many ways. He was 
 a scholar, with a modern tendency — religious, yet not fanatic, 
 and well versed in all matters of Jewish knowledge. A mild, easy- 
 going, unassuming, gentle soul, he took things as they came and 
 never complained or quarreled, nor did he envy any man. Two 
 incidents in his life more fully describe his fine character. 
 
 One day, while returning from Kovno, where he had gone to 
 look for a position, he found one hundred roubles (fifty dollars) 
 in cash. In those days such a sum was a little fortune, especially 
 to a poor man. He was at that time the father of three children, 
 and the most he had ever earned, when he had employment, was 
 five roubles a week. With a hundred roubles he could have 
 brought much pleasure and comfort to his home; yet he did not 
 bring the money home, nor did he say anything about his find to 
 my mother. He hid the money and then told people he understood 
 someone in Kovno or nearby had lost a large sum. For two 
 months he spread this tale, in the hope that he would thereby 
 learn the name of the loser. 
 
 However, as no inquiry was made, he went to see Rabbi 
 Spektor of Kovno (known even to this day as one of the great 
 Gaonim in Israel), and telling him his story, asked for advice. 
 The Rabbi undertook to announce the find, without stating the 
 amount or giving information as to where it was found, and 
 further announced that the owner could have the money by 
 giving proof that it was his. For two months the news was spread 
 about, yet no one responded. At the expiration of the set time, 
 since no claimant had appeared, the Rabbi informed my father 
 that he could keep the money as his own. 
 
 When father came home and told the story to mother, and 
 showed her the hundred roubles in cash, she almost fainted. For 
 a while she was mute, and when she finally recovered her com' 
 posure, she murmured these words: 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 7 
 
 "Oh, God, please do not punish a feeble woman for her wicked 
 words; but I cannot help saying, dear God, that while I thank 
 Thee day and night for giving me a husband who is such a pious 
 and saintly man, yet I ask, why didst Thou make him such an 
 idiot? Why didst Thou not give him a little more sense to under- 
 stand that poor people do not have so much money, and that 
 when they do have it, they don't lose it — they will watch it 
 every minute, day and night. The one who lost this money must 
 be a very rich man — only Thou, great God, knowest how rich 
 he is, and that he can well afford to lose it. Here we are, strug- 
 gling and slaving in wretched poverty for our daily bread, while 
 my husband, the saint, walks around for four months with a 
 hundred roubles in his pocket, looking for the millionaire who lost 
 it, without saying a word to his wife about it!" 
 
 The second incident occurred as follows: There was in Ponie- 
 mon a man known as Itsig, a very shrewd and unscrupulous 
 individual. He managed to make money in all kinds of ventures 
 and schemes, and was always looking for more and more business. 
 My father came to him with a very good project, which required 
 capital. Itsig investigated the proposition very carefully, and 
 decided to go into it. The understanding was that it should be a 
 "fifty 'fifty" arrangement, Itsig to furnish the money and my 
 father to run the business, with the profits to be divided equally. 
 
 Father, having complete faith in everyone, did not think to put 
 their arrangement in writing. The business was duly started and 
 proved to be very profitable, and father thought he would soon be 
 a man of wealth. After two years, when he proposed they divide 
 the profits, as the books showed a considerable sum of surplus 
 cash on hand, Itsig answered that he never did and never would 
 divide profits with anyone; furthermore, he did not want to have 
 my father in business with him any longer, and he told him to 
 leave. As compensation for the time my father had devoted to 
 running the business, Itz,ig allowed him ten roubles a week, claim- 
 
8 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 ing this was the highest salary father had ever made before start- 
 ing with him. 
 
 The people who knew about the deal were furious over this 
 outrage, but my father only smiled and said: 
 
 "I am glad that I was instrumental in making that man happy ." 
 And the more money Itsig subsequently made, the happier father 
 was, because he had been responsible for bringing him into the 
 business. 
 
 For forty years, father was employed as an expert and trusted 
 aid by merchants in the lumber and timber industry. His salary, 
 which was never more than fifty roubles (twenty-five dollars) a 
 month, was in those days considered good pay; but it was far 
 from enough for a large family to live on, and mother had to help 
 along by earning money in various enterprises. Fortunately, how 
 ever, when he reached the age of about sixty, he did not have to 
 worry about earning a living, as he was provided with from 
 eighty-five to one hundred dollars a month by his five sons in 
 Chicago. 
 
 On his deathbed, at the age of eighty-seven, as we were later 
 informed by the Rabbi of the town, father prayed with tears in 
 his eyes for the health and happiness of his children, their children 
 and all good people of the world. He had one of the greatest 
 funerals the city had ever known. The leaders of his people car- 
 ried him to his grave, and the whole town mourned his death. 
 
 Mother was by temperament just the opposite of father. She 
 was nervous, clever, restless, obstinate, quick-tempered, and very 
 active. She was capable of working from early morning until late 
 at night for her husband and children, never thinking of herself, 
 thus impairing her health. Like most Jewish women of those days, 
 she had not been educated. Ordinary education then meant know- 
 ing how to write and read Yiddish, and how to read the prayers 
 in Hebrew; but even this was only for men and not for women. 
 She knew and observed, however, in every particular, all the rules 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 9 
 
 and laws pertaining to the Jewish religion and her duties as a 
 wife and mother. 
 
 Her husband was everything in the world to her. She wor' 
 shipped the ground he trod on. He came first in everything — the 
 best food, drink and clothes were only for him. While she ate 
 bread and potatoes and herring, she prepared fish and meat for 
 him. She cherished him but tried by every possible device to hide 
 her affection for him. She would often chide and reprimand him 
 for not being more aggressive — for being a "shlemiel" and let' 
 ting everybody get the best of him; and then would go to some 
 corner and pray to God that her husband would not think ill of 
 her for being rude to him. 
 
 The name of God was always on her lips. Always when she 
 was about to start gossiping with other women, she would begin: 
 "May God not punish me for what I am about to say," or "I 
 hope God will not consider it a sin, the words I am about to 
 utter," or before planning a trip — "with God's will, I shall go 
 tomorrow to Kovno." 
 
 After every meal, she would murmur, "God be praised, God 
 be blessed for the food He provided for my children and myself; 
 God be praised for the rain He gives us; God be praised for the 
 heat, for the cold, for the fact that there is no sickness in the 
 family," and so on the whole day. 
 
 To her children, she was a loving despot. For the slightest 
 offense she would curse, threaten, and quite often emphasise her 
 indignation with slaps in the face or punches on the body, some' 
 times using a stick or a whip to make it more effective; but soon 
 after she would quietly ask God to forgive her for having been so 
 brutal to her own flesh and blood. 
 
 "Poor innocent lambs," she would whisper, "it is my fault, 
 not theirs, that we are so poor and they do not get enough to eat, 
 and have to wear torn shoes and clothes. Must I give vent to my 
 
10 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 troubles and bitter heart by taking it out on them?" And so it 
 would go on and on. 
 
 Her household duties, and giving birth to a child every second 
 year (once it was twins, one of whom died), would have been 
 enough work for any woman, but not for mother. Her sense of 
 duty to her children, her devotion to her husband, impelled her 
 to do something in order to help carry the burden of providing 
 for the family. So she went into the bread'baking business. She 
 would buy flour on credit, bake the bread in large round loaves 
 and retail it by the pound. Starting with one baking a week, she 
 increased to two and three a week. Little by little, she added 
 groceries, such as sugar, salt, beans, peas, herring and other goods 
 to her stock. At first she sold for cash only, but in a short time 
 started to sell on credit, and her memory had to do the book- 
 keeping, which resulted in disputes galore. 
 
 Then mother bought a cow. It came about very simply. A 
 peasant who had brought a cow to sell in town stopped at our 
 house to buy some herring and at the same time get a drink of 
 "schnapps," which had to be done secretly. The peasant men- 
 tioned that he had a cow to sell, and then and there the bargain 
 was made. The Lithuanian got herring, tea, sugar, cereal and 
 some money, and the cow remained with us. In a short time, she 
 started to give milk, and six months later she presented us with 
 a baby calf. This happened during the winter, and since it was 
 dangerous for the mother cow to give birth in a cold barn, she 
 was taken into the house, where she delivered her calf, and both 
 animals were kept inside with us until it was safe to take them 
 out into the barn. 
 
 The "midwife" to the delivery of the calf was an old Lithu- 
 anian woman by the name of Matulkas. She locked herself in the 
 room with the cow, and let nobody in, and after staying there 
 from about four o'clock in the afternoon until the next morning, 
 she opened the door and called in mother, and later the children, 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 11 
 
 to see what had happened. We saw a little creature lying on the 
 floor, bedded with straw, and being licked by the mother cow. 
 Matulkas occasionally strewed some salt on the little calf, to make 
 the licking more tasty. The next day the little one was already 
 standing on her feet, and we knew it was a calf, and the question 
 of how the calf came into the room arose. 
 
 Mother told us that Matulkas, the Lithuanian woman, was 
 responsible for our having a calf. I remember asking my mother 
 why she had done this, and the answer was that she got paid 
 for it. 
 
 "Well," I said, "why not pay her a little more, and have 
 another one and another one?" 
 
 Of course, to this she gave me no answer, and I repeated the 
 question several times. My brother, Harris, who was a few years 
 older than I, and no doubt understood the phenomenon, finally 
 interrupted. 
 
 "Do you know," he queried, "that the cat has little kittens?" 
 
 "Yes," I replied. "And the dog has little puppies, and the horse 
 has little colts." 
 
 "Well," he said, "the cow has little calves. You don't expect 
 that a cow should have kittens or dogs." Then he added, "Don't 
 ask any more such foolish questions." And that silenced me and 
 ended all queries as to how we had acquired the calf. 
 
 Soon the calf grew up to be a good looking cow, so that we 
 were blessed with two cows. These animals served as a lesson in 
 good conduct, for through them I had a taste of the danger of 
 wrongdoing. It all came about because cows must be fed, and 
 because all the land and fields surrounding the town were owned 
 by a German nobleman, Herr Leopold von Ashfort. 
 
 The cows were fed a preparation of waste grain which mother 
 purchased from various people, and lest they stray into Herr 
 Ashfort's fields and cause trouble, they were kept in the barn 
 day and night. But here the plot thickens. 
 
12 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 A little boy, Berke, son of Zavel, was my "pal." His parents, 
 following the example of my mother, also had bought a cow. One 
 day Berke suggested to me that we take the cows out at night and 
 let them feed in Herr Ashfort's hay field. Mother thought it was 
 too dangerous, but agreed to let me take out one cow, so that if 
 we got caught, we could say the cow had broken away from the 
 barn and we had just found her. 
 
 Well, the plan worked. We took out the cows, one at a time, 
 and let them eat to their heart's content. This went on for about 
 ten nights, and we grew bolder and decided on another plan. 
 Instead of taking the cows into the field, where we had to wait 
 around for hours until they had had enough, why not bring the 
 grass or hay from the field to the cows at home? In this way, we 
 could be free to go to sleep, while the cows ate at leisure. 
 
 Mother strongly objected to this plan for the following rea" 
 sons: 
 
 First, if the cows ate directly from the fields, the sin against 
 God could not be great, for a cow could eat so much and no more 
 in an hour or so, and for a little sin like that we could drop a 
 coin into the charity box of Rabbi Meyer, the saint. 
 
 Secondly, as long as the cows committed the wrong, we were 
 all safe; we had an alibi — the cows broke <away from the barn; 
 it was their fault and the children were simply looking for them. 
 But if the children were, God forbid, caught with sacks of hay 
 on their backs, they were thieves in the eyes of God and man. 
 
 Berke's father, a very short fellow and therefore called Zavel 
 (the shrimp, or "little one"), was a philosopher of a sort, and 
 argued very differently. He averred that Herr Ashfort was a 
 German. Why did he not stay in Germany where he belonged? 
 Why did he come to us poor Jews and gobble up all the land 
 around us, cramping us in so little a space that we could not 
 even take a walk in the fresh air? He owned all kinds of horses, 
 cows, sheep and poultry, lived in a palace with God knew how 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 13 
 
 many servants, and raced with his aides through the town like 
 lightning, on his hunting horses, with a pack of wild hounds 
 following, raising clouds of dust, while we all had to hide our' 
 selves in the houses until he and his gang and the dust were gone. 
 
 By way of conclusion, he said, "I, poor man, have one little 
 cow and cannot get a handful of grass to feed her. Has God 
 created the fields and the grass only for Herr Ashfort? Have I 
 not the right to get a little green grass for my cow?" 
 
 "Ah," sighed mother, "do not talk like this. Do not forget, 
 Zavel, that we Jews are in goluth, in exile. This life which is 
 short and hollow is for them, so that they have the best of it 
 now, while the life in the world to come, which goes on eternally, 
 will be ours; we will have the better life forever and ever." 
 
 My own opinion was that Zavel did not take much stock in 
 his own words, nor in what my mother said. He simply felt 
 there was no danger and that it would be safe to take a chance. 
 
 It was finally decided to try the plan just once and see what 
 happened. That tryout, however, was our downfall. 
 
 Herr Ashfort's men had noticed that the hay field had been 
 trampled on by cattle in several places, and notified the superin' 
 tendent, who placed several men on watch. Little suspecting the 
 terrifying experience that awaited us, Berke and I, each with a 
 sack under our arms, went out on our mission around nine'thirty 
 in the evening, with malice aforethought, callously determined 
 to rob Herr Leopold von Ashfort of some grass. 
 
 We had filled our sacks, lifted them on our shoulders and had 
 started homeward, when Berke suddenly whispered to me, "Drop 
 the bag and run. We are discovered." 
 
 I did so, but alas, it was too late. A long whip was coiled 
 around my body and pulled me down to the ground. I was faced 
 by two big Goyim (gentiles), fortunately not Germans but 
 Lithuanians, whom we knew to be not so strict as the Germans. 
 
14 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 They stood there, laughing at me, saying, "So little and already 
 a thief." 
 
 At the same time, two other "Litwakes" brought in Berke. 
 Understanding their language, and knowing that the "Litwakes" 
 were easy-going people, I pleaded with them to let us go. I offered 
 them my cap as a bribe, but they said they could not release us. 
 One of them went to the palace to notify their superior of the 
 catch they had made. 
 
 My partner in crime tried a foolish trick. He stood for a while, 
 gating unsteadily at the sky. Suddenly he cried out, "My heart, 
 oh, I am dying!" and fell to the ground, lying as quietly as a 
 dead mouse. I talked to him, shook him, pinched him, but there 
 was no response. I really thought he was dead, and started to 
 cry. However, one of the men lit a match and slowly and care- 
 fully applied it to the boy's bare foot, when the not-so-clever 
 Berke jumped up like a two-year-old. 
 
 The messenger presently returned with a German, who held a 
 short horsewhip in his hands. He stood in the moonlight for a 
 moment, staring at us, and then exclaimed, "Starting in business 
 very young, eh? — Well, take them along!" We were taken to 
 the palace grounds and locked up in a dark cellar. 
 
 The next morning we were taken out on the grounds and con- 
 fronted by Herr Ashfort himself. He looked at Berke and asked 
 in mocking Yiddish: 
 
 "Who sent you to steal my property?" 
 
 "Nobody," Berke answered. 
 
 He then asked me the same question, and I answered, "The 
 hungry cows sent me." 
 
 I do not know how he liked my answer, but he retorted, "If 
 you keep on like this, you will land in Siberia." 
 
 He finally told his men to take us home, and we were led back 
 like prisoners. The whole town followed us, and we heard one 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 15 
 
 continual shouting: "Thieves — hay thieves — burned feet — 
 thieves" and so on. 
 
 My poor mother cried that she would die for shame. 
 
 "Woe, woe is me!" she lamented. "How will I show my face 
 to the world? My son, the son of Yankel Horwich, a thief, 
 caught red-handed in the act! How will I live it through?" Worst 
 of all, father was not at home. 
 
 I hid myself in a corner, feeling the guilt was all mine and that 
 I had brought on all this trouble. Of course, mother tried to place 
 all the blame on Zavel and his son, but I felt I had had no busi- 
 ness to take their advice. I felt particularly guilty, because poor 
 mother had to take care of a grocery, a bakery and two cows, 
 make cream, cheese and butter and sell them, and now had to 
 have such a disgrace while father was away. 
 
 It seems, however, that father's absence was to our advantage, 
 for Herr Ashfort was after all a nobleman and a gentleman. 
 When he was told by some friends of ours that if my father had 
 been home, he would not have allowed such a thing, and that 
 when he returned he would surely straighten everything out, 
 Herr Ashfort agreed to wait, although with the understanding 
 that someone would have to be punished as an example to others 
 — otherwise he would be having trouble all the time. 
 
 Father came home about five weeks later, when the terrible 
 scandal was somewhat forgotten. When he heard of it, he sat 
 down with me, and listened to the whole story from beginning 
 to end. 
 
 Mother was standing by, and she cried: "To all my worries 
 and troubles, God had to send me this, the greatest trouble of 
 all" — and she was sure, as sure as she was that this day, Friday, 
 was just one day before the Sabbath, that if her father, David, 
 the great pious man who was now in Heaven, had not interceded 
 with God in her behalf, her children would by this time have been 
 without a mother. 
 
16 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Father looked at her and said: "No doubt you are right, but it 
 would have been better if our son had not gone to steal the grass, 
 and had saved us and your father in Heaven and the Almighty, 
 all this trouble." 
 
 It was my good fortune, he went on to say, that I had been 
 caught at my first offense, for according to our sages of old, one 
 transgression brings on another, and the end of a criminal is the 
 noose around his neck. He said the sin of stealing from a 
 Christian, in the opinion of the Rabbis, was even greater than 
 stealing from a Jew, because in stealing from a Jew, only one 
 man was hurt, and God could forgive such a sin; whereas, steal' 
 ing from a Christian was an unforgivable sin, because when a 
 Jew commits an offense against a nonjew, all Jews are blamed 
 for it, and the reputation of all Jews is besmirched, and God could 
 not easily forgive such a crime without punishment. 
 
 Father was a man of few words, but when he did say some' 
 thing, it always hit the mark. Every sentence was concise and to 
 the point, and was like a needle stuck into my flesh, ten times 
 worse than the beatings from mother. The tears were running 
 down my face, but I kept quiet. Mother stood there, sighing and 
 somewhat betraying her guilty conscience, but put all the blame 
 on Zavel and his son, "the scoundrel. " 
 
 The worst was now over. A few days later my father and 
 Zavel went to see Herr Ashfort, and settled the matter with a fine 
 of five roubles per cow, my father paying his ten roubles then 
 and there. Zavel promised to pay his fine in a few days, but never 
 did. There were rumors that Herr Ashfort turned over the ten 
 roubles he received to Rabbi Avremil to be used for charity, with 
 the understanding that it remain a secret forever. 
 
 Several months later, fate decreed that I should have some more 
 trouble. It was not as bad as the incident of the cows, but I was 
 again in the limelight before my fellow townsmen. 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 17 
 
 Tevie, the tailor, had a boy of about my age by the name of 
 Ruvke, whom I used to go with once in a while. He was not very 
 pleasant to get along with, and at the slightest misunderstanding 
 between us he would call me "overfed Keise," referring to my 
 mother, who was a very heavy woman. It was the habit among 
 the children to insult each other by some special characteristic 
 of the parents. Thus, if a boy's father was tall and thin, his 
 playmates would call the boy in question "the long, skinny one." 
 
 One time when this tailor's boy called me "overfed Keise," 
 I felt insulted and slapped his face. He jumped away a few feet, 
 picked up a small stone and threw it at me, but missed me, and I 
 in turn picked up a little stone and threw it at him. It struck him 
 on the nose and caused it to bleed. I was not, however, aware 
 that his nose was bleeding. All I knew was that he ran home after 
 I struck him, crying "Mother!" 
 
 About an hour later, when I had returned to my house, Basse, 
 Ruvke's mother, came in leading the boy by the hand. There was 
 blood on his face. As I learned afterward, she had purposely not 
 washed his face, leaving the blood there to show what a "killer" 
 I was. 
 
 My mother asked her what was the matter. "I see your boy 
 has blood on his face." 
 
 Ruvke's mother replied with this little speech: "Your son will 
 certainly grow up to be a big man. He started in as a thief, and 
 now he is trying to end up as a murderer." Then she started to 
 cry and went on: 
 
 "Most of the nine months that I had him under my heart I was 
 sick, and then all the pain and trouble and expense during his 
 birth. For the last six years I am working and slaving for my 
 son, and now that he is growing up, strong and healthy, and with 
 God's help will soon start to go to cheder (Hebrew school) , and 
 become a grown-up, reputable, God-fearing Jewish man, your son, 
 the thief, wants to rob me of him by killing him!" 
 
18 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 In those days, in a small town, to see blood on anyone filled 
 people with terror, and my mother stood trembling. 
 
 "First of all," she said, "let us see where he is hurt." She 
 brought a towel and water, and washed off his face, and was 
 very happy to see that there were no marks of any kind, and that 
 the injury was very slight. 
 
 It so happened that this time my father was at home. He 
 wanted to know what had happened, and I told him; but I did 
 not dare to repeat the actual words Ruvke had used, as I con- 
 sidered them too great an insult to be spoken before others. In 
 his mild and quiet manner, he reproved me. 
 
 "Even if you are right, you are guilty," he said. "You should 
 avoid such incidents. If he threw a stone at you, you should have 
 gone to his father and complained, and not thrown stones at him, 
 since he is smaller than you are. Therefore," he continued, "I am 
 going away tomorrow and the present of five kopeks (two cents) 
 which you would otherwise get from me, I will give to that boy." 
 He did this, and everybody concerned seemed satisfied. 
 
 I felt, however, that an injustice had been done me, and it 
 worried me a great deal. I was especially indignant when I met 
 Ruvke's father on the street and he made fun of me, saying, "The 
 next time you touch my boy, it will go much harder with you." 
 
 One evening, about two months later, I and three other boys 
 passed by the house of the tailor, and we noticed he was sitting 
 behind a closed window, mending by the light of a candle. I 
 turned to my friends and asked: "What can we do to get even 
 with that fellow?" 
 
 One of the boys, by the name of Yossel Bregstone, said: "Let 
 us take that little fellow (a boy of about five years who was with 
 us), open the back of his trousers, and lift him up with his bare 
 back to the window." 
 
 Accordingly, two of the boys, one on each side, lifted up the 
 lad, as I stood aside, watching. I saw Tevie raise his head, stare 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 19 
 
 for a second, and start to tremble. He then called loudly to his 
 wife. She came, lifted her hands in amazement, and shouted: 
 
 "Woe is me! This must be a sinful soul whose face was changed 
 into this, and cannot rest in his grave. I will run to the Rabbi !" 
 We all ran away as she approached the door. 
 
 The next morning the whole town knew of the incident. The 
 Rabbi had explained to Tevie's wife that evil spirits do not appear 
 in the form of a child's back or any back. 
 
 "No doubt," he said, "it was a trick by some youngsters." 
 
 Basse caught on. "Ah," she exclaimed, "dear Rabbi, you are 
 right. It is YankeFs son." 
 
 Although the participants had all been sworn to secrecy, it was 
 somehow discovered how the trick was accomplished, and that I 
 was responsible. But because this prank made everybody laugh, 
 I escaped punishment. 
 
 About this time, a scandal occurred which aroused the entire 
 town, and which made a deep impression on my youthful mind. 
 I relate the story as illustrative of the strict moral code which 
 prevailed in Jewish communities like ours and the severity with 
 which infractions were punished. 
 
 It happened that a married man, fairly well known in the town, 
 was on his way to Kovno early one morning, when he met a 
 woman whom he knew, a widow, also from Poniemon, going in 
 the same direction. They talked matters over, and agreed that 
 according to Jewish law, should they commit an immoral act, the 
 sin would be of little consequence, since she had no husband and 
 the man's wife had been an invalid for many years. To their mis- 
 fortune, however, Herr Ashfort happened to be out fox hunting 
 that morning, and instead of catching foxes, came upon the guilty 
 couple, and they were publicly exposed. 
 
 Such a crime was unheard of in the history of Poniemon, and 
 for months afterward nothing else was discussed. The men of the 
 town were inclined to be lenient, some of them even joking about 
 
20 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 the incident, but the women were up in arms. Basse, the wife of 
 Tevie, the tailor, insisted and was ready to take an oath that "as 
 true as there is a God in heaven, so true is it that since the world 
 began, such an outrage has not been committed among Jews." 
 
 Marie, the wife of Zavel, the "short one," lamented the fact 
 that Herr Ashfort had been the one to catch them. It would not 
 have been half as bad, she maintained, if a Jew had found them. 
 Now the "goyim" would have something on us. 
 
 Freide, the wife of Kadish, suggested that a special prayer be 
 offered to God, asking Him not to revenge Himself on "our little 
 children" because of the sin committed by these two people. She 
 maintained that God understands the weaknesses of human 
 beings, some of whom do not have sufficient will power to resist 
 the Evil Angel but give way to temptation. 
 
 Grandma Sarah, the midwife, agreed with Freide, and ex' 
 pressed great concern for the safety of the little children, who, 
 according to her information, are liable to pay the penalty for the 
 sins of the grown-ups. She amended Freide's suggestion, not only 
 to offer special prayers, but to pay a special visit to the cemetery 
 and make a strong appeal (and not be stingy with tears) to our 
 ancestors (peace be with them), to intercede on behalf of the 
 innocent people of the town, especially the little ones, and ask for 
 mercy and forgiveness from God Almighty. 
 
 My mother felt that it was a case for the Rabbi and not the 
 women to decide. 
 
 "What do we inexperienced, ignorant women know about such 
 important matters?" she argued. "It is up to the Rabbi, who 
 understands the ways of the Ruler of the Universe better than all 
 the women of Poniemon and Kovno put together. So let him be 
 the judge, and hear what he has to say." 
 
 Two days later the culprits stood before the Rabbi with down' 
 cast eyes, distressed and dishonored. The Rabbi questioned them, 
 but the only reply he received was tearful sighing. 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 21 
 
 "Well," said he finally, "the law states that silence means 
 admission of guilt; and even without your confession, your guilt 
 has been established. You have committed a heinous sin against 
 God and man. Therefore I say, for your own good and for the 
 protection of the purity and sanctity of Jewish family life, it is 
 my duty, in the name of God and His holy law, to punish you as 
 an example and warning to others. 
 
 "This is my judgment," he said to the man. "The next Sabbath 
 and the following three Sabbaths, as well as on the coming Holi' 
 days, you are to be at the Synagogue before the worshippers 
 assemble for morning service. You will lie face downward on the 
 threshold of the Synagogue, so that everyone who comes in must 
 step over you. In addition, you will receive forty lashes with a 
 leather strap, administered by the Shamesh (the beadle). You 
 should also double or triple the coins you drop in the charity box 
 every Friday afternoon. 
 
 "As for you," the Rabbi said to the woman, "I believe it is 
 best for you, as well as for the community, that you move to 
 another town where you are not known, and if possible, that you 
 change your name there. As long as you remain here," the Rabbi 
 continued, "you are likely to be molested, insulted and suffer all 
 kinds of mental torture, and you will be looked upon as a thorn 
 and an outcast in the eyes of the community. I will raise the 
 necessary funds to enable you and your two children to move 
 to another place, where your past will not molest you." 
 
 The judgment of the Rabbi was carried out in all its details. 
 I myself was one of those who stepped over the guilty man, as he 
 lay across the threshold of the Synagogue, and sympathised 
 deeply with the humiliation and mental anguish he must have 
 suffered. 
 
 However, no one ever questioned the wisdom of the Rabbi, 
 which was again established in another case brought before him, 
 after other attempts at settlement had failed. This episode, I 
 
22 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 remember, created quite a stir in our town and even outside it. 
 
 Two Jews quarreled over a piece of property, and instead of 
 going immediately to the Rabbi to settle the dispute, applied to 
 the mayor. In important cases, especially those of a criminal 
 nature, the mayor would receive the complaints and report his 
 opinion to his superiors. 
 
 Both sides were convinced they were in the right, of course, 
 and each did his best to convince the mayor of this, although, 
 God forbid, they should try to influence him to render an unjust 
 verdict! One man's method of proving his righteousness was to 
 send the mayor a few pounds of sausage, purchased in Kovno, 
 and which had been imported from the great city of Warsaw. 
 The other party, however, was not asleep on the job. He dis' 
 covered that the mayor was a great lover of the best brand of 
 tea, known as PoppofFs Tea, which was imported from St. Peters- 
 burg, and sent him a package. The first man, hearing about it, 
 added two pounds of sugar to the sausage; and his opppnent 
 thereupon sent the mayor several pounds of cheese. 
 
 A clever statesman, the mayor took the case under advisement, 
 to give both parties sufficient opportunity to prove their admira- 
 tion for him, and they kindly obliged him. They were kept busy 
 making the journey from Poniemon to Kovno almost twice a week 
 to buy gifts for the mayor, in the hope of securing a favorable 
 decision. They finally tired of these travels, and each, independent 
 of the other, decided to discontinue sending gifts, but make 
 periodic cash payments instead. The oftener both sides sent him 
 money, the more time it took the mayor to decide the case. 
 Finally the litigants began to count the cost, which grew from 
 week to week, and became somewhat discouraged. They had to 
 make presents in kind or in cash not only to the mayor, but to his 
 assistant as well, since the latter would tip off each party as to the 
 gift sent to his lordship by the other, and expected remuneration 
 for this service. 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 23 
 
 After both parties had invested in the lord mayor's impar- 
 tiality and judicial honesty a small fortune, with no termination 
 of the matter in sight, they decided to withdraw the case from 
 His Honor, and take it to the Rabbi. 
 
 The happy result was that the dispute was settled by a com- 
 promise within a few days, and everybody was satisfied. It was 
 then, even more than before, that the Jews of our town appre- 
 ciated the honesty, efficiency and fairness of our Rabbi. 
 
 As I recall, father used to be away from home six or seven 
 months out of the year, and it was, therefore, a sort of holiday 
 when he would come home after these long absences. Weeks 
 before he arrived, everybody was happy in the expectation of his 
 return. "Father comes! Father comes!" was heard everywhere. 
 Mother's face beamed with happiness, the children were given 
 better and more food. Beggars were given larger slices of bread, 
 and mother pressed a few coins into the hands of some of them. 
 The charity box, nailed to the wall, in memory of Rabbi Meyer, 
 the Miracle Man, received greater gifts than ever. The name of 
 God was mentioned oftener even than before. 
 
 When father left, however, gloom returned. The agony of 
 going to "cheder," which had been somewhat mitigated by the 
 excitement of his presence, loomed up again. The uninviting 
 little room which constituted the Hebrew school, the harsh face 
 of the teacher, with unkempt beard, a whip in his hand, confront- 
 ing us for twelve hours a day (with only one hour off for lunch) , 
 filled us with repugnance and made the experience a miserable 
 one; yet we all had to put up with it and like it. 
 
 My Hebrew and Biblical education began at the age of five 
 and continued until I was thirteen, when I celebrated my Bar 
 Mitsvah. Those eight years of childhood, which should be the 
 happiest, most carefree time of a person's life, were marred for 
 
24 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 generations of Jewish boys by the grueling discipline and wretched 
 teaching methods of the "cheders" and religious schools. 
 
 The very first day that I was taken to "cheder" by my mother, 
 I received a lecture from the teacher. A man in the sixties, he 
 was of small stature, bent over, and looked centuries old. 
 
 "If you will be good," he admonished me, "and concentrate all 
 your being on study, and will learn the holy writings of the Bible 
 and the Torah that was given to us by God through Moses, then 
 you can expect a reward in this world and in the world to come. 
 
 "But," he threatened, "if you will be bad — mean and lazy, 
 and will not put your mind to your studies, and think instead 
 about playing, then God will punish you wherever you will be, 
 here in this world and in the next world." 
 
 My mother stood by, nodding her head in corroboration. Over" 
 come by the emotional fervor his speech aroused, she said to me, 
 with tears in her eyes, "Did you hear what the Rabbi said? 
 Remember, now!" 
 
 "Do you promise to follow all instructions?" the Rabbi 
 then asked me. 
 
 "Yes, I promise," I said, rather bewildered by all this ceremony. 
 
 "Then," said the Rabbi, "we will find out right now the kind 
 of boy you are." 
 
 He brought out a sheet of paper on which was printed the 
 Hebrew alphabet in large letters, and waved to my mother and 
 me to sit down. Pointing out the letters, he said: "This is Aleph, 
 this is Baiz.," and so forth, naming the first five. He went over it 
 three times, and then asked me whether I knew it. I told him I 
 did. Unknown to my mother or father, I had learned the "Aleph 
 Baiz." by listening to the other children. 
 
 "If you show me that you remember what I have taught you," 
 he said, "then the Angel will drop down some money for you. 
 But if you don't know it, and the Angel does not drop down any 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 25 
 
 money, it will show that you did not pay strict attention to what 
 I have been saying." 
 
 Pointing to a strap hanging on the wall, he added: "Instead of 
 money, you will get that, if you do not learn properly." 
 
 While I pretended to take all this seriously, I was not fooled 
 by his story about the money from the Angel. A few days before, 
 I had seen a mother stand behind her boy and drop a coin onto 
 his book at a signal from the Rabbi, so that he would think it 
 came from heaven. 
 
 When the Rabbi asked me to name the letters, I did so in 
 proper order. He then selected the letters at random, to see if he 
 could confuse me, but in each case I answered correctly. 
 
 "Well," said the old man, "you are doing very nicely. The 
 Angel ought to give you double what the other children have 
 received." 
 
 At that moment, two kopeks dropped right in front of me. My 
 mother was beaming with pride. She kissed me, and cried for joy. 
 
 "You will see," she said to the Rabbi, "my children are not 
 like others. You won't have much trouble with them. But if they 
 don't behave, don't spare the strap." 
 
 After this first private lesson, I joined the beginning class, 
 consisting of twelve students. For about six months, I studied 
 with this group, and was then transferred to a more advanced 
 class, under another instructor, to begin the study of the Bible. 
 
 I had thought the reason the first Rabbi looked so miserable 
 and acted so mean was because he was sickly and undernourished, 
 but" found his attitude and demeanor in the classroom to be quite 
 typical. 
 
 Slaps on the face were routine. They just went with the les' 
 sons. Scoldings were frequent, and the most abusive language was 
 hurled at us. For making noise or talking during the lesson, the 
 strap was freely used. Our only consolation in the beginners' class 
 
26 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 was that our Rabbi did not have enough strength to inflict great 
 pain. 
 
 I was overjoyed to leave my first teacher, but the second did 
 not prove much better. However, he was a younger man and 
 more pleasant in appearance and demeanor. Occasionally one 
 caught a smile on his face, and once in a while he would make 
 funny remarks, which would make us laugh. But he was very 
 strict in his instruction, and insisted that we understand exactly 
 whatever he said. He would try to catch us off guard with unex- 
 pected questions, and would not leave off his explanations until 
 there was not the least doubt that he was thoroughly understood 
 in every minute detail. 
 
 After about five years with this class, I was again transferred, 
 to begin the study of the Talmud under a third Rabbi. This 
 occupied the remainder of my schooling. 
 
 Had the teachers of those days had any sympathetic under- 
 standing of children, those early years might not have been so 
 dreary. They made no effort to present their instruction in an 
 interesting manner — and instead of arousing a desire for knowl- 
 edge in us, they filled us with fear and dislike. 
 
 During our eight years of schooling, all three of our Rabbis 
 constantly hammered at us that we must be always aware of our 
 Jewishness; that God watched the Jews carefully, and any who 
 did anything wrong would be severely punished, if not in this 
 world, then surely in the world to come. 
 
 Of course, one cannot place all the blame upon these teachers. 
 They followed the traditional, accepted method of instruction — 
 they knew no other methods. Because of the general poverty, they 
 were, as a rule, underpaid and overworked. It was usually with 
 great difficulty that they extracted their fees from the parents of 
 their pupils, and these were small enough. It is natural that their 
 worry over their daily bread, and the strain of teaching unruly 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 27 
 
 and unwilling boys for long hours, should have caused them to 
 vent their irritation upon their young charges. 
 
 The lot of the Jewish boys in those days was not a particularly 
 enviable one. For the most part, the children were reared in poor, 
 overcrowded homes, by nervous, overworked mothers. The 
 precious daylight hours were spent in the dreary "cheders" and 
 Hebrew schools. Besides, attendance at the synagogue was re 
 quired for additional hours, morning and evening, and on the 
 holidays. Household chores occupied what time remained. It is 
 little wonder that such a regime left its mark upon thousands. 
 
 Yet, surprisingly, some of our greatest men were the products 
 of that system. 
 
 Mother, who never felt right unless she had something to 
 worry about, now started to be anxious about her next child, 
 which was due in several months. 
 
 "Will it be a girl, or, God forbid, a soldier again?" — ■ meaning 
 a boy. 
 
 She went to see the Rabbi and spent as much money as she 
 could afford for charity and prayer; and consulted Frau Maurish' 
 heit, who lived near us and was a friend of the family. 
 
 Frau Maurishheit was a typical German woman, simple, unas' 
 suming, honest, and a devout Protestant. She was always work- 
 ing. Her reputation among the Jewish women was very fine. 
 They liked her and considered her to be a nice "Deutsche," who 
 might be a little foolish but nevertheless knew a great deal. She 
 could read and write German. Once in a while she would receive 
 a German newspaper from her friends in Berlin, and would tell 
 her Jewish friends what was happening in the world outside. The 
 war between France and Germany was being waged at that time, 
 and she was very eager to talk about it and have everybody know 
 that Germany was winning battle after battle. 
 
28 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Her husband, Herr Maurishheit, was a blunt, bulky German, 
 who worked in a foundry near Kovno and used to come home 
 on Saturday afternoon, returning to work Monday morning. 
 Occasionally he would come in with too much "schnapps" 
 in his system and raise a rumpus with his frau. When that hap' 
 pened, she would take refuge in our house until he sobered up. 
 
 Once he overreached himself with his beating, and she came 
 to our house with a bruised and swollen face. My mother, wish- 
 ing to help her, took her to the Rabbi for advice. Frau Maurish- 
 heit had been unwilling to go at first, but mother convinced her 
 that he could help her solve her problem. The authority of the 
 Rabbi was accepted by everybody, Jew and non-Jew. 
 
 After hearing her story, the Rabbi instructed the woman to 
 tell her husband that he would have to answer to him for his 
 misbehavior, and sure enough, the next day the husband appeared 
 before the Rabbi. The excuse he gave for his mistreatment of his 
 wife was, first, that supper was not ready on time, and, secondly, 
 that the soup did not have enough salt in it. 
 
 The Rabbi spoke to him kindly and sympathetically, saying: 
 "Your wife works very hard doing washing for some wealthy 
 people, besides taking care of the house and children. Everybody 
 knows you are a nice man; I cannot imagine you would be so 
 brutal to your wife for such trifles. If the soup did not have 
 enough salt, you could have put some in it, and if the supper was 
 not ready on time, there would have been no harm in waiting 
 a little while. I think, Herr Maurishheit," he added smilingly, 
 "you were not in your right senses when you beat up your 
 wife so shamefully. It seems to me you drank a little too much 
 and did not know what you were doing. Am I right?" 
 
 The big, husky German sat there looking very guilty. He 
 nodded his head and said: 
 
 "Ya, I did have too many drinks, and I did use my hands too 
 freely; but Herr Rabbiner, women are like children — you have 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 29 
 
 to give them a thrashing once in a while; otherwise they get 
 spoiled. " 
 
 The Rabbi fingered and smoothed his beard, and for a moment 
 it appeared as if Maurishheit had presented a good argument; but 
 the former soon replied: 
 
 "Ya, Ya, Herr Maurishheit, you are right. There are some 
 women who have to be disciplined; and for that matter, there 
 are some men, even more than women, who should be corrected. 
 But your wife is not in that class. I am told that she is a nice, 
 modest, obliging, obedient and hard-working woman, a good wife 
 and good mother. Is that not true?" he asked, turning to my 
 mother, who was present at the proceedings. 
 
 "Is it true?" my mother repeated. "Why!" she stated excitedly, 
 "may God punish me, my husband and my children, if it is not 
 true. May God give me strength, health and long enough life to 
 see my sons marry such fine women — of course, Jewish women," 
 she interrupted herself, "as Frau Maurishheit. I know better than 
 anyone how hard she works. I tell you she works too hard for her 
 strength, and some day (pointing her finger accusingly at 
 Maurishheit) , you will find your wife dead from overwork. God 
 knows how hard I work, too. I also slave from early morning 
 until late at night. Oh, what we women have to suffer." And she 
 started to cry, wiping the tears with her apron. 
 
 The Rabbi's wife helped her along. "Such a big strong man 
 like you," she broke in, "beating your wife! Pfui! Shame on you! 
 Men like you do not deserve to have wives. You ought to get 
 down on your knees and beg forgiveness from your wife, and 
 give her extra money besides." 
 
 Herr Maurishheit was completely routed. It was fortunate for 
 him that his wife was not present at this hearing, or his humilia- 
 tion would undoubtedly have been much worse. 
 
 The verdict of the Rabbi was that Maurishheit should not 
 have more than two moderate drinks in any half day, for the next 
 
30 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 six months, and never beat his wife. He accepted his punishment 
 gracefully, and promised, on his word of honor, to abide by it. 
 However, it was learned later that he would add sour wine to the 
 whiskey apportioned him, as he did not consider wine a regular 
 drink. 
 
 Frau Maurishheit knew a lot about children's ailments, and 
 would advise the mothers what to do for rheumatism, dyspepsia, 
 colds, coughs, etc. My mother considered her also an expert in in' 
 terpreting dreams. To mother, dreams were a part of her life. 
 She was always watching for a good dream, and when she had 
 one, would call Frau Maurishheit to interpret it for her. First, 
 however, she would talk to the woman about household mat- 
 ters — about the prunes she had cooked for the Sabbath, or the 
 fresh butter cakes she had just taken out of the oven. Incidentally, 
 she would give Frau Maurishheit some to taste, and to take home 
 for her children. No doubt, she unconsciously gave this to her as 
 a sort of bribe, to insure a pleasant interpretation of her dreams. 
 
 I remember distinctly how nervous and anxious mother was on 
 one such occasion. She had beheld in one of her dreams a fine 
 little bird with brightly-colored feathers flying into the house 
 through an open window and settling on top of the dresser. She 
 related this to Frau Maurishheit with such fervor and enthu- 
 siasm that she had to be admonished several times to calm down 
 and speak more coherently. 
 
 The reason for her excitement was that she hoped Frau 
 Maurishheit would tell her that her expected child would be a 
 girl. But, alas, that was not the interpretation she received. The 
 woman, after much questioning as to the details of the dream, 
 merely informed her that it meant something good was going to 
 happen, but that she could not say how soon, or what it would 
 be. This was a great disappointment to my mother — and realiz- 
 ing her worst fears, a few months later we had another little boy 
 in the family. 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 31 
 
 I often heard mother bemoaning her fate to Freide, the wife 
 of Kadish, who was her dearest friend and confidante. 
 
 "God is just and His ways are just, and I hope I will not 
 commit a sin with my words," she would say, "but I would like 
 to know why, oh why, dear God, must I have all boys, who may 
 have to be soldiers in the Czjar's army, while Hende, my sister' 
 in'law, has all girls. Why should I not have a few girls and she 
 a few boys?" 
 
 Hende was the wife of her brother, Chaym Leiser, and they 
 lived on the opposite side of our house. How Aunt Hende had 
 ever had children, and healthy, good'looking children at that, 
 was quite a puzde to everyone. A thin, sickly little woman, 
 asthmatic, continually coughing and complaining about her heart, 
 she nevertheless was full of energy and worked very hard rearing 
 her five girls, who were husky, strong and good-looking. 
 
 Freide, a sensible housewife, and the mother of several sons 
 and daughters, was always very sympathetic. 
 
 "You should not complain, Keise," she would tell mother. 
 "God is just and His judgment is just, precisely as you say. If 
 He gives you boys, He knows the reason why, and if He gives 
 Hende girls, He also knows what He is doing. Anyway, it is 
 better to have sons than daughters, for sons are only troublesome 
 until they grow up. After that, they can be sent out into the 
 world, to deep Russia, to England or to America. My son, 
 Shleime, for example, is waiting for a ticket from a relative of 
 mine in New York, and he will leave as soon as the ticket 
 arrives." Shleime, as it happens, was an ordinary, small town 
 "kabibble," who spent his time in praying, sleeping, yawning and 
 eating, when there was something to eat. 
 
 "In a year from now," Freide asserted, "he will probably send 
 us money, and will soon take over his brothers, and then we can, 
 with God's help, live without worry." 
 
32 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "But girls," she continued, "ah, I should not sin with my 
 words — they are a burden on your head when they are small 
 and a yoke around your neck when they are grown up. Take the 
 case of my Hannah. In a year from now, we will have to look 
 around for a young man for her. And then what will happen? 
 We haven't a rouble for dowry, for wedding expenses, or for an 
 outfit, and unless a miracle happens, or we get money from 
 America, we will be in a nice fix. 
 
 "But you, Keise, do not have such troubles, at least for the 
 present, so do not complain and ask questions of God, why so 
 and not the other way. Rest assured, He knows how to govern 
 the world. " 
 
 The building in which my Aunt Hende lived, with her husband 
 and their daughters (who were named Katie, Mollie, Pearl, 
 Hannah, Katie Chaye and Tillie), was a dilapidated old frame 
 shack, containing one big room and two small ones, which served 
 as shelter for them all. In the summer months, it was not so bad. 
 Uncle would sleep in the attic, and some of the girls in the hall- 
 way between our house and theirs. True, they were troubled by 
 flies and mosquitoes, but they had moonlight and room enough 
 to enjoy a night's sleep. 
 
 In the winter months, however, it was harder. As a rule, we 
 experienced four or five months of steady, severe cold, and often 
 snowstorms, and then the windows of their rooms would be so 
 thickly frozen over that hardly any daylight penetrated. 
 
 One bitterly cold afternoon, my aunt was sitting near her 
 stove, reading a prayer book by the light of a flat piece of wood 
 stuck between two bricks of the oven, when a Cossack came in 
 with a heavy horsewhip in his hands. He demanded "podatek," 
 or taxes. We all knew what that word meant. Although my aunt 
 could not speak Russian, she knew what he wanted, and tried to 
 explain to him by means of gestures that she did not have any 
 money. The angry Cossack ran through the rooms, picked up two 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 33 
 
 pillows, and tore off an old shawl Aunt Hende had on her 
 
 shoulders. He gave her several lashes with his whip, and dis' 
 
 appeared. The poor woman fell off her chair, and hearing the 
 
 disturbance I ran in and tried to help her get up, in the meantime 
 
 shouting for help. She was sick in bed for two weeks afterward. 
 
 With all her hardships, that frail little woman, sick most of the 
 
 time, and poor as poor can be, lived long enough to see most of 
 
 her daughters marry and have children. She lived to the age of 
 
 seventy. 
 
 * * * 
 
 What became of Hannah, the daughter of Freide, I do not 
 know, but I do remember how her son, Shleime, fared, because 
 I experienced some unpleasantness through him, though not as 
 bad as in the incident with Berke, the son of Zavel. 
 
 It was now about eight weeks since Shleime had left for 
 America, and during this time the question of whether God was 
 governing His world justly had been definitely decided by his 
 mother and mine in favor of God. Finally the long'awaited letter 
 from Shleime was received, mailed from New York. 
 
 The excited Freide, letter in hand, and followed by a host of 
 women of all classes — poor, middle poor, hungry poor, and so 
 forth — came running into our house just as I was returning 
 from "cruder." I was called upon to read the letter, and my 
 mother made me get up on a chair, where I read aloud and 
 slowly, so that everybody could understand. The missive was 
 written in Yiddish, and was six pages long, and I read on and 
 on, to the great satisfaction of the full house. 
 
 I took the liberty of making corrections in the letter as I went 
 along, adding some words here and there and omitting others, to 
 make it sound perfect. Now and then I looked at the crowd, and 
 noticed Freide shedding tears of joy, and saw my mother's round, 
 smooth, fleshy, good'looking face, her blue eyes beaming with 
 delight because of my perfect reading; although at another point 
 
34 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I found her looking displeased — and later found this was due to 
 the fact that she was jealous of Freide, because her Shleime, a 
 silly fellow who did not amount to very much, could write such 
 a fine letter. 
 
 The communication contained about six greetings — two for 
 the Rabbi and his wife, and about four or five for relatives; but 
 I wasn't stingy, and included regards for almost everybody 
 present. 
 
 When I finished, the listeners broke into expressions of praise 
 and blessing for the writer and the reader, and especially for 
 their mothers. 
 
 "Blessed are the women who bear such children !" one woman 
 exclaimed. "Oh, God, think of my sons also, and let them be like 
 these boys when they grow up." 
 
 My mother, however, did not like to have her boys praised in 
 their presence, lest they become spoiled. 
 
 "Ah," she said, "do we have to thank them for it? For whom 
 do we slave, for whom do we worry, for whom do we break our 
 hearts, to feed and clothe? Do I not pay enough tuition for his 
 education?" (My Hebrew teacher received ten roubles a year 
 from our family for the instruction of two boys.) "Indeed," she 
 added, "they should know a great deal more than they do." 
 
 All in all, everybody including myself was very pleased with 
 the reading of the letter; but unfortunately the matter did not 
 end there. 
 
 Mr. Kadish, Freide's husband, was not at home at the time, 
 and when he came home for the Sabbath, he learned with great 
 delight of the letter from Shleime. On Saturday evening, he took 
 the letter to the Rabbi, apologizing on behalf of his wife for 
 taking the letter first to our house instead of bringing this impor- 
 tant document directly to the Rabbi's house. 
 
 "You know how women are," he said. "When they get excited, 
 they do not know what they are doing." 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 35 
 
 He then asked the Rabbi to read the letter to him, which the 
 Rabbi did, and here is where I got into trouble again. 
 
 I was charged with falsifying and misrepresentation, for adding 
 sentences that were not there, for leaving out words that were in 
 the letter, and especially for reading regards to people not men- 
 tioned. Hershel, the cobbler, Tevie, the, tailor, and others whose 
 names I had falsely included in the list of greetings were furious. 
 
 "Because we are poor," they raged, "an impudent little loafer 
 takes the liberty of insulting us and having fun at our expense. 
 We will go to the Rabbi and demand justice !" 
 
 My mother was dragged into the scandal, for they claimed 
 that a little brat like myself was not really capable of inventing 
 such tricks. 
 
 "His mother, the fat, overfed Keize, no doubt was the brains 
 behind this outrage," they argued. 
 
 The Rabbi finally settled the dispute in the following manner 
 — my mother had to give her word of honor that she had had 
 no hand in it, and knew nothing about it; and as for myself, I 
 had to assure the Rabbi that my intentions were good, and that 
 I had meant no offense toward anyone. On the contrary, I ex- 
 plained to him, I wished to avoid Freide embarrassment and save 
 Shleime from incurring enemies at home, for I felt that he should 
 have mentioned the names of these people, and since he failed to 
 do so, and they were all present, I did it for him. 
 
 To placate the complainants, the Rabbi suggested that at my 
 Bar Mitsvah, or confirmation, during the coming year, at the 
 reading of the Torah in the Synagogue, I should have all their 
 names mentioned, and my mother was instructed that she should 
 donate five gulden (about fifty- five cents) to charity in their 
 honor. 
 
 In the end, the matter turned out in my favor, for my mother, 
 who had been jealous of Freide because her son could write so 
 well, was now satisfied. 
 
36 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "I was wondering," she told the women of her acquaintance, 
 "how the silly Shleime could write so well, and now you see I 
 was right. And what do you think of my boy?" she boasted. 
 "Isn't he clever? I think he has more sense than some grownups." 
 
 Thus for a time I was looked upon almost as a hero, and the 
 blot on my reputation due to the incident of Herr Ashfort's hay 
 field and the "hungry cows" was forgotten. 
 
 * * * 
 
 On the occasion of my Bar Mitzvoh, at the age of thirteen, it 
 might be said that contrary to the usual procedure, I was not con" 
 firmed but did the confirming myself. My father was away from 
 home measuring lumber, earning eight rubles, or $4.00, per week. 
 My mother had just given birth to her sixth son, and was still 
 confined to her bed. She had made herself much worse than she 
 was with crying and bewailing her fate because the child was not 
 a girl. The only consolation she had was that her sister'in4aw, 
 Hende, was similarly distressed, though for the opposite reason, 
 her five children being all girls. 
 
 So I stood alone on the pulpit in the synagogue on that impor- 
 tant day. As was the custom, I read a chapter in the Bible, quoted 
 several prayers by heart, and then delivered a talk. My teacher 
 had given me the subject and instructed me to work it out myself. 
 As I remember it, my speech dealt with the two codes of the 
 Jewish religion — the code between man and God, and the code 
 between man and man. I explained that the code between man 
 and God required that God be praised for everything He had 
 done. He was to be praised for creating Heaven and Earth, the 
 sun, the moon and the stars, the water and the land. He was also 
 to be praised, I said, for creating me — although even at that time, 
 I had a slight idea that my parents had something to do with it. 
 God was likewise to be praised for making me a male and not a 
 female. I added that the duties of man to God were also, among 
 other things, to attend synagogue three times a day, to obey the 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 37 
 
 dietary laws, to pray and have faith in Him and have Him in one's 
 heart and mind day and night. The duties of man to man were 
 to be charitable, to help the poor and the sick, especially the widow 
 and the orphan — not to quarrel or fight, not to bear any grudge, 
 and not to take revenge against anyone, or take advantage of 
 anyone. It was not meant, I explained, that a Jew should live by 
 either one code or the other — but by both. These two codes 
 must be practiced side by side by every Jew. 
 
 So far, so good. But then I added some criticism on my own 
 initiative. I told the congregation that the trouble was that pec 
 pie who could afford to do charitable deeds and help the poor, 
 thought they could partly get out of it by praying a little more 
 than usual and praising God more loudly — that being much 
 easier and cheaper. As an example, I pointed to the corner of the 
 roof of the synagogue, which had been torn away by a strong 
 wind a few months before, and had been left in that state because 
 the people who could afford to do so would not give their propor- 
 tionate share to have it repaired. I added that we had many 
 hungry people who went begging every day, and that they got 
 more from the poor than from the well-to-do . I continued in that 
 strain for a while and closed with the comment that the Rabbi 
 of the congregation ought to admonish such people to do their 
 duty. I then donated the five gulden, in accordance with the pre 
 vious judgment of the Rabbi. 
 
 When I finished, my teacher came up to the platform and told 
 the congregation that the last remarks I had made were an impu- 
 dence on my part; that had he known beforehand that I would 
 be so impertinent and talk about things that were no concern of 
 mine, he would have warned me against doing so. He advised me 
 to take care of my big mouth, as I was likely to get into trouble. 
 
 "Now you are a man," he then proclaimed, "responsible for 
 everything you do and say, and I advise you to watch your step 
 and think twice before you open your mouth." 
 
38 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I left the synagogue as an independent individual. Eight 
 months later I left my home as an independent individual, and 
 from then on was always on my own. 
 
 * * * 
 
 It now became necessary to consider my future. There were 
 several courses to be pursued by the young men of Poniemon. 
 One was to leave the country, and seek fame and fortune in other 
 lands, especially America. Another course was to go to some 
 large town which contained a Hebrew college or seminary, so that 
 a young man so inclined could study for the rabbinate, during 
 which time he would be supported by his parents or by the com' 
 munity, or both. Some young men preferred to take the line of 
 least resistance and remained at home until a Shadchen (marriage 
 broker) arranged to marry them off to girls whose parents could 
 afford to take care of them. 
 
 One of the greatest problems in the life of a young man in 
 Russia, next to that of earning a living, was the question of 
 military service. It was not the principle of soldiering in itself 
 that was so objectionable — it was the attitude of the officers, 
 their arrogance, their mean and foolish ways of displaying their 
 superiority, and their strict discipline, especially manifested to- 
 ward the Jewish soldiers, that the young men hated. Parents 
 considered it a calamity when a son was taken into the army, 
 partly because of the mistreatment, but especially because of his 
 inability to live according to the Jewish religion while in service. 
 Thus, the first concern of a young man who intended to remain 
 in Russia was to escape military service. To gain this freedom, 
 one had to deal with the bureaucrats, who as a rule were spend- 
 thrifts and bribe-takers. The more money they had, the more they 
 spent, and the more they spent, the more they needed; so there 
 was no end of bribe-taking. 
 
 But even after securing a certificate from these officials freeing 
 one from military duty, one was not always assured of a peaceful 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 39 
 
 life. If the holder of such a certificate remained in the district 
 where he was known, he was always subject to blackmailers, who 
 were ready to denounce him unless they, too, were bribed. As a 
 result, therefore, only well'to'do fathers, or those who had good 
 standing in the community or were particularly known for their 
 learning stood a good chance of freeing their sons from military 
 service. 
 
 My oldest brother, Aron, was just reaching the age when 
 something had to be done about this problem. He was good'look' 
 ing and very sensible, and though a bit selfish perhaps, was 
 candidly so. He craved all the good things of life, and especially 
 loved showy clothes. He had no desire for study and no par' 
 ticular initiative, and relied upon father for almost everything. 
 
 Trying to make a business man out of him, father had taken 
 him along on his travels, to teach him the timber business, and 
 incidentally to find for him a girl with a rich father. Within less 
 than a year, the search was ended, and he was married into a 
 family of more than average standing. His father-in-law took him 
 into his house, freed him from military service, and undertook to 
 support him. 
 
 However, it seems the support he received from his in-laws 
 was not altogether satisfactory, as was evidenced by his appear- 
 ance when he visited us several months after the marriage. He 
 looked so pale and haggard that mother nearly fainted when she 
 saw him. She decided he must be kept in a room all by himself 
 and away from outsiders until she could "feed him up" and get 
 him to look like himself again. She feared that people with malice 
 in their hearts, even friends, would find satisfaction in seeing him 
 in that state, and would say: 
 
 "Well, the oldest son of Keize got into a wonderful family; 
 the way he looks, they must feed him like a criminal on bread and 
 water." So she would not let anyone outside the family see him 
 until he had gained weight, "even more than he weighed at his 
 
40 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 wedding," so that people might believe that the match was a 
 great success. 
 
 The day of his homecoming was not a very happy one for me. 
 I had been in the Synagogue for the morning prayers, and came 
 home about an hour after his arrival. When I saw how he looked, 
 I was undiplomatic enough to make a "wisecrack" about it. In 
 the presence of Pearl and Hannah, two of Aunt Hende's 
 daughters, I said, after shaking hands with the guest: 
 
 "Arye, you must be a fast runner now, for you look as skinny 
 as a hunting dog." 
 
 The girls liked my dig, as their cousin Arye considered himself 
 above them and very often had snubbed them, and they burst into 
 laughter. I, however, had to pay for my indiscretion by a smack 
 in the face from mother that sounded like a thunderbolt. 
 
 Mother sought advice from Aaron David, the barber, as to 
 what kind of food to give her son to make him strong and fat in 
 a short time; and he suggested good soup and meat at least once 
 a day, and Bavarian beer mixed with sugar and cream twice daily. 
 
 This Aaron David did not actually perform the duties of a 
 barber, although he was known by that title, since no one really 
 shaved in those days. He would cut hair once in a while, but 
 chiefly he acted as assistant to the physician when one was called 
 in from Kovno to attend a patient. 
 
 Aaron David had influence with the authorities, because he 
 could speak their language and was a good mixer. He was a clever 
 mimic and the life of any party he attended. Some of the wealthy 
 men he knew had to pay him tribute to hold his tongue about their 
 affairs which were a bit cloudy, or about their sons' trying to 
 avoid military service. Generally, he was feared and regarded as 
 not very reliable; but he was a "good fellow" with those he liked. 
 
 He treated our family very well, and the advice he gave mother 
 on this occasion proved so effective that within six weeks my 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 41 
 
 brother Aron looked better than ever, and was ready to return 
 to his home in Woronowo, near Wilno. 
 
 Although he tried his hand at various ventures, Brother Aron 
 was never successful and had to be helped by father and by us 
 as long as he lived. He married three times and had twenty-two 
 children, eighteen of whom are still alive. Although he was not 
 a man of learning, and lived poorly, he was the leader of his town. 
 He attained the age of seventy-seven, outliving four of his 
 brothers in America. 
 
 My brother, Hirsh, or Harris, next to Arye in age, was an 
 entirely different type of person. He had a mind as clear as 
 crystal and as sharp as a rasor. He was straightforward and 
 honest, and would not tell a lie except in a case of great emer- 
 gency. Possessing an exceptionally fine sense of humor, he was 
 always ready to joke and have fun at the expense of himself 
 and others. 
 
 His burning desire for knowledge and learning knew no 
 bounds, and despite the fact that he had received no education 
 except to a limited extent in Hebrew, he had acquired at the age 
 of twenty, through self-study, a reputation as a scholar in the 
 field of Jewish literature. He possessed, besides, a wealth of knowl- 
 edge in world literature, and could speak, read and write per- 
 fectly Hebrew, Yiddish, Russian and German. Before he left 
 Russia, he also had a reading knowledge of English and French. 
 All this was no mean accomplishment for a poor Jewish village 
 boy who had to be his own instructor. 
 
 Because of their difference in character, ambition and tempera- 
 ment, my two elder brothers did not get along very well. Arye 
 used to call Hirsh, "the crazy one," and Hirsh would wittily 
 criticise Arye as a show-off. Arye usually went about feeling 
 peeved and disappointed because he found the good things in life 
 were so difficult to attain; but Hirsh was always happy, always 
 
42 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 in good humor and good spirits, and ever ready with his clever 
 satire and funny pranks. 
 
 Among the tricks Hirsh played in his childhood, I remember 
 one which created a great deal of argument and excitement. 
 
 One evening, as my mother was preparing to go to bed, she 
 instructed her niece, Beile, who lived with us, to put away a large 
 pitcher of milk in the bottom of the dresser, lock the dresser and 
 put the key on the chair near her bed. Brother Harris overheard 
 this and, standing in a corner unobserved, watched Beile carry 
 out the order and then leave to see a friend. After she left, he 
 quietly opened the dresser to take out the milk. Then a dreadful 
 accident happened. While feeling around in the dark for the milk, 
 he upset the pitcher and the contents spilled on the bottom of the 
 dresser, overflowing on to the floor. Nearby, Aunt Hende's cat 
 was slumbering peacefully, unaware of what was coming her way. 
 Just as she woke and was about to help herself to a good drink 
 of milk, Harris, the rascal, grabbed the cat and forced her head 
 down into the pitcher, so that she could not easily free herself, 
 and then called loudly for help. 
 
 Mother hurried out, stood there for a while bewildered, and 
 then began to bewail her fate. 
 
 "My good God," she cried, "what have I done that you mete 
 out Job's punishment on me. During the day I have no peace, and 
 at night I get no rest. Instead of some help from my children and 
 relatives, I have only aggravation, trouble and losses! A full 
 pitcher of fresh milk — God's gift and my hard labor — on the 
 floor like dishwater! Woe is me! I shall not let this pass off 
 easily!" 
 
 The cat was with some difficulty pulled out of the pitcher and 
 the floor cleaned up, and mother went back to bed with a vow 
 that there would be a thorough investigation the following morn' 
 ing and may God help the guilty ones! 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 43 
 
 The next morning there was indeed an uproar. The Jewish 
 women in those days, overworked and overstrained, most of them 
 at the point of nervous prostration, would flare up at the slightest 
 occasion; and since this incident was really a cause for excitement, 
 milk being a precious commodity in our household, the shouting 
 and quarreling could be heard from one end of the town to the 
 other. 
 
 Beile was charged with three offenses: First, that she had not 
 locked the dresser; second, that she had not placed the key on the 
 chair; and third, that she had had the audacity to lie to her aunt 
 and claim she had done exactly as she was told to do. Aunt 
 Hende was scolded by mother for not keeping her cat in her own 
 house — and since she herself and her children did not have 
 enough to eat, what business did she have to keep a cat altc 
 gether? Although Aunt Hende, as previously described, was a 
 little hungrylooking, frail'appearing person, she could stand her 
 ground and outtalk and outscream any woman at any time, 
 especially when she knew she was not at fault. 
 
 While all this commotion was going on, Hirsh, the real culprit, 
 stood by, making funny remarks and enjoying the scene. 
 
 Later on, however, when the truth came out, Hirsh defended 
 his action with the statement that there is a saying, "An emer' 
 gency breaks iron"; that there was a great emergency, and the 
 cat was not made of iron, and he did not have to break her, so he 
 used her to save himself. 
 
 He played another trick, of which I was the intended victim, 
 but he was only partially successful. 
 
 Cooked prunes were considered a delicacy in those days, 
 especially the way mother prepared them. Father used to say that 
 they tasted like manna from heaven. They were prepared only 
 for special holidays, during which time the children were treated 
 to a few each day. 
 
44 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 One afternoon Harris somehow discovered where a half'potful 
 of these delicious prunes were kept by mother, and helped himself 
 to his heart's content. Knowing that mother would surely notice 
 the shortage and that an investigation would follow, he confided 
 to me where the prunes were kept and encouraged me to go and 
 eat all I wanted. But no sooner had I tasted a few, than mother 
 appeared on the scene, and I was caught redhanded. I had to save 
 myself by running to the Synagogue, where I waited outside for 
 the evening prayers. 
 
 I did not realise that I had been betrayed by my brother, until 
 I saw him approach the Synagogue, where he stood outside, un- 
 aware of my presence, breaking the pits of prunes which he had 
 taken along in his pocket, eating them and discarding the pieces 
 on the ground. I said nothing to him, but after the services picked 
 up the discarded pits and went home, ready for trouble. 
 
 To my surprise, no attempt was made to punish me, mother 
 merely remarking quietly: 
 
 "You are lucky that your father is such a saint and does not 
 think it proper to disturb the pleasantness of the holidays over a 
 rascal like you." 
 
 Since I was not permitted to answer, I could not prove my 
 innocence, nor the treachery of my brother. The only satisfaction 
 I had was to throw a handful of the broken pits into the face of 
 the traitor on the following day and make him admit his guilt. 
 He gave me a small piece of a pencil to atone for his wrongdoing 
 and as a compensation for the damage done to my feelings. Our 
 fondness for each other, which was always very strong, did not 
 suffer in the least by reason of this incident. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Among the vivid memories of my childhood were the various 
 religious holidays. The High Holidays, Rosh Ha'shanah and Yom 
 Kippur (the New Year and the Day of Atonement), were re' 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 45 
 
 garded as the most important and most holy days of the year. 
 They were awaited with awe and fear, and we were all glad 
 when they were over. The fasting for half a day on the two 
 days of the New Year and the whole day on Yom Kippur, and 
 the continuous praying and weeping in the little overcrowded, 
 ill-ventilated synagogue betokened the ending of the warm, 
 sunny summer days and reminded us of the bitter cold winter 
 which lay ahead. As a whole, these days were regarded, espe- 
 cially by the children, as but a necessary evil. 
 
 Passover, on the other hand, was a happy and joyous holiday, 
 bringing a whole week of pleasure and freedom. As early as four 
 weeks before Passover we began to enjoy the atmosphere of the 
 holiday. The house was thoroughly cleaned and whitewashed. 
 All of the dishes had to be replaced, and some new article of 
 wearing apparel purchased for each member of the family, as well 
 as something new for the home. 
 
 On one occasion when father came home for Passover, he 
 brought among other things a large kerosene lamp. It created 
 a sensation. Up to that time, the only light we had was furnished 
 by cheap tallow candles, which gave out more smell than light. 
 The big new lamp, which we called "the hanging lamp," because 
 it was attached to the ceiling, lighted up the whole room. It was 
 to us not only a joy and a pleasure, but also a wonder. One could 
 actually regulate the light as he wanted it, bright or dim, and it 
 would burn for hours and hours, even through a whole night, 
 without any of the attention that had to be given to candles! 
 
 The Passover services were very much shorter than those on 
 the High Holidays, and the praying was of a different character. 
 Instead of lamenting and begging forgiveness for sins we had 
 never committed, we prayed only in song, praising the glory of 
 God for freeing the Jews from bondage in Egypt, and listened 
 to the cantor chanting with enthusiasm the story of how the 
 
46 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Jews crossed the Red Sea and escaped from the cruel Egyptian 
 hordes. 
 
 The sun also helped us to celebrate the holiday by shining 
 bright and warm, ushering in the spring with flowers and green 
 grass, and arousing anticipation of the coming summer months, 
 when we had three weeks vacation from the uninviting Hebrew 
 School and the harsh teacher, and could run around outside and 
 go swimming. That was really living. 
 
 One Passover the usual holiday atmosphere was clouded by one 
 of my brother Harris 1 little remarks. It happened in this wise. 
 
 Father gave our oldest brother, Aron, a rouble to buy himself 
 a necktie as a gift for the Passover. This was rather extraor- 
 dinary, as no one in our family, nor in any family we knew, wore 
 a necktie. Once in a while, when Herr Ashfort and his friends 
 rode through the street in a carriage, we noticed that they wore 
 ties and collars. Now Brother Aron was also to have a necktie, 
 and be looked upon as an aristocrat. There was much excitement 
 in the household. Aron went to Kovno to purchase his tie, but 
 when he came back he refused to show it to anyone until we were 
 all assembled for the first "seder," or feast night. 
 
 The "seder" lasts, as a rule, from three to four hours. The food 
 is of the very best, and during the feast there are prayers. Every 
 member of the family drinks four glasses of wine, in celebration 
 of the freeing of the Jews from slavery. It might be appropriate 
 to remark here that as far as is known in the history of the 
 world, the Jews were the first to abolish slavery. The two "seder" 
 nights of the Passover were in those days considered by Jews 
 as a reward for all the misery, poverty and oppression they had 
 suffered during the whole year. 
 
 When we came from the Synagogue on the first night of Pass- 
 over and sat down at the table under the bright light of the hang- 
 ing lamp, everybody full of joy and happiness, Brother Aron 
 entered, wearing the long-awaited necktie. It was of all imaginable 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 47 
 
 colors, and was very bright and attractive, and we looked with 
 envy and respect upon him. 
 
 Father asked Aron to come over, so that he could feel the tie, 
 and upon doing so, remarked: 
 
 "You are not a good buyer. You only looked at the colors, but 
 not at the quality. This tie will not last very long. Look at what 
 your brother Harris has around his neck. It doesn't gleam and it 
 isn't bright. Yet he has had it for four years, and it is still strong. " 
 
 What Brother Harris wore as a tie was a strip torn off from an 
 old scarf that father had had for ten or twelve years. It was sim' 
 ply a piece of rag, but it was strong. 
 
 "Harris will have this for years," father continued, "and yours 
 will be gone by next Passover." 
 
 These remarks brought gloom to the face of Brother Aron, 
 and smiles to our faces, and in the silence that followed, Harris 
 got up, went over to Aron, patted him on the back, and said: 
 
 "Don't be discouraged. I will tell you what I will do. I will 
 help you out. I will trade with you." 
 
 This dig, added to the humiliation he felt by reason of father's 
 censure, was too much for Aron, and he simply went wild. He 
 took a glass of wine which stood near him and dashed it in the 
 face of Brother Harris, at the same time giving him a push, so 
 that he fell down, and a kick into the bargain. 
 
 Harris' inability to resist making a clever comment thus spoiled 
 the first few days of that Passover. It was finally arranged that 
 Aron and father go back and change the tie for one better, 
 stronger and more durable, and peace was again restored. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Some time later, Harris left for Wilno, the largest city in 
 Lithuania, and known throughout Jewry as a place of piety and 
 learning. He went there to continue his studies of the Talmud 
 and to prepare for the rabbinate. 
 
48 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 By this time we were five brothers. Arye (or Aron) , the oldest, 
 was married and away from home. Hirsh (or Harris) , the second 
 one, was studying and also away from home. I, Beril (or Ber- 
 nard), the third, Henach (Henry), the fourth, and David, the 
 fifth, were still at home. A sixth son, Samuel Baruch, was born 
 shortly before I left Poniemon. 
 
 In relating the story of my brother, Henach, I must introduce 
 a fascinating character who was a close friend of my father — 
 a blacksmith by the name of Nahum. His popularity was due 
 to the fact that he was a man of great piety and learning, well 
 versed in the Talmud and Jewish lore. It was not known where 
 or how he had acquired his vast fund of knowledge, and though 
 he worked hard in his blacksmith shop from twelve to fourteen 
 hours a day, he still found time for study and discussion of knotty 
 problems of the Talmud with the Rabbi. Occasionally he would 
 speak in the Synagogue on Sabbath afternoons, interpreting to 
 the people the great moral teachings of the Rabbis of old, and 
 admonishing his listeners to have faith in God and obey His laws 
 as promulgated by the great teachers of Israel, for in so doing 
 they would find peace and happiness in this world and in the 
 world to come. 
 
 His modesty, his simple speech, his sincerity and ability to 
 make everyone understand what he said, endeared him to the 
 hearts of the people. There were rumors that he was a greater 
 Talmudic scholar than the Rabbi, and that he could become 
 ordained if he so desired, but that he refused to do so. He wanted 
 to earn his livelihood, he said, by working for it, for doing man" 
 ual work to earn one's bread was, according to the laws of God, 
 an honor to men, and not a disgrace, as was the opinion among 
 some Jews. 
 
 My father, who was an admirer of Nahum, explained to him 
 that his son, Henach (Henry), a strong, husky boy, had great 
 inclinations to become an artisan instead of studying the Talmud. 
 
MY BOYHOOD IN PONIEMON 49 
 
 He, therefore, asked Nahum to take him into his shop and teach 
 him the blacksmith trade; and also for an hour or two each day, 
 give him lessons in the Bible. 
 
 The bargain was made, and Brother Henach worked as a black' 
 smith in Poniemon for a few years. He then left for Odessa, Rus- 
 sia, where he worked for several years in a bed factory. Later 
 he came to Chicago and eventually became a manufacturer of 
 metal beds, dealing with all the big business houses in Chicago 
 and elsewhere. 
 
 I being now the oldest of the brothers at home and next to 
 mother in authority during father's absence, felt and acted as if 
 I were the head of the family. I attended to the correspondence 
 between my father and my two brothers, kept the books for 
 mother, and helped in the selling of the dairy products of our two 
 cows, consisting of home-made cheese and butter. Every now and 
 then, I had to go to Kovno with these products, peddle them 
 around and sell them for the highest prices obtainable. 
 
 I started to chum around with the Bregstone boys, Joseph and 
 Ike, who were friends of my brother, Hirsh. These two brothers, 
 sons of Shaane Bregstone, were known as the finest youngsters 
 in the community. They were good looking, good mixers, and 
 had fine singing voices, often singing the songs the Cantor used 
 to chant on the High Holidays. They always smiled and seemed 
 happy, and were all-around likeable boys. 
 
 Occasionally I would climb up the hills to their farm, known, 
 as I have mentioned before, as "The Bregstones of the Mountain.'" 
 Their mother always received me cordially and treated me as one 
 of the family, inviting me to dinner whenever I came. This meal 
 usually consisted of potatoes, sour milk, pickles and bread, food 
 of which I was very fond — and did I eat! 
 
 One of my ambitions while on their farm was to get well 
 acquainted with their dogs, and this I finally succeeded in doing. 
 When I played with them without being bitten, I was as happy 
 
50 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 as could be. I remember once returning home with the boys 
 singing and the three dogs playing around us. I felt almost as 
 important as Herr Ashfort. 
 
 Several years later these two Bregstone brothers left Poniemon 
 for other parts of Russia, and finally landed in New York, where 
 they changed their name to Breakstone. They started a retail 
 milk business on the East Side, developed it into a wholesale 
 cream and butter business, became very wealthy, and estab' 
 lished the firm of "Breakstone Bros., Incorporated, Cheese 
 Manufacturers." One of the brothers, Yossel, or Joseph, died 
 a few years ago, and the business is carried on under the same 
 name by the remaining brother, It2,ig, or Ike. Both have many 
 fine children and grandchildren, and the Breakstone family in 
 this country now runs into many hundreds. Most of them 
 belong to the middle class, and quite a good many are manufac 
 turers, merchants and professional men. In Chicago, we have a 
 well known surgeon of this family, Dr. Benjamin Breakstone. An' 
 other member of the family was Philip Bregstone, who died a few 
 years ago. He was a journalist and historian and published a book 
 entitled, "The History of the Jews in Chicago." Still another 
 member, Dr. Levy, is a recognised expert in nervous ailments, 
 and is married to the daughter of Chicago's well known philan' 
 thropist and merchant, Julius Rosenwald. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 
 
 The time had now come for me to decide what I was to do. 
 When father came home, the question of what was to become 
 of Beril was often discussed. For me to remain at home was out 
 of the question, although mother needed me badly, as I was a 
 great help to her. My own ambition was to go to Germany, gen' 
 erally called in Poniemon, Preussen or Prussia, and my reasons 
 for wanting to go there were as follows: 
 
 First, it was not far from home, and in case of any emergency, 
 I would have my parents and Poniemon nearby, although I did 
 not intend ever to return. However, I felt it best to be on the 
 safe side, so that if, God forbid, something unforeseen should 
 occur, I would have my parents to fall back on. 
 
 Second — Germany had just won the war with France, and 
 had taken Alsace-Lorraine from that country — two very rich 
 provinces — in addition to five billions of marks in indemnity, 
 and Germany was prosperous. I often heard men talk about the 
 good business conditions there, and was very much impressed. 
 
 Third — From the Maurishheit family, from Herr Kinder and 
 his wife, who used to do work for the Jewish families on the Sab' 
 bath, and from August Norts, the carpenter, I had learned to 
 understand the German language sufficiently well to get along 
 in it. I also had become fond of these Germans, because they 
 were so nice and clean and punctual in paying for whatever they 
 bought from us; and in general, they seemed more intelligent and 
 more reliable than other Gentiles I knew. Also, my Uncle Michael 
 used to talk a great deal about the Germans who lived in Kovno; 
 though I used to pity the German children because the poor 
 creatures had to eat food that was not kosher and go to church 
 instead of to the synagogue. 
 
 51 
 
52 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Uncle Michael, my mother's brother, was an exceptional type 
 of person. With his blond hair, blond beard and blue eyes, he 
 looked more like an Aryan than a Jew. He was a friendly, con' 
 tented and happy man, and very sentimental. At anything funny 
 he would burst out into laughter, and at anything sad, you could 
 see his eyes filling with tears. He had a fine sense of humor, and 
 liked to listen to a good joke as much as to the preaching of the 
 Rabbi about the destruction of the Temple. He loved children, 
 and they loved him. To visit Uncle Michael was a holiday for 
 us. We would be treated to tea with sugar in it, and cake, and 
 often were given a few coins. 
 
 My uncle was a very honest and pious man, and at prayers 
 in the Synagogue, especially on the High Holidays, his lamenta- 
 tions could be heard blocks away. He would dance, jump, make 
 gestures with his hands outstretched to God, and generally work 
 himself into hysterics. I once saw him on Yom Kippur (the Day 
 of Atonement), when the Cantor was chanting the prayer: 
 "Look down from Heaven, oh God, and see how we have become 
 the laughing stock of the nations, and are treated like sheep ready 
 for slaughter." I thought my good pious uncle would collapse any 
 minute. He was working with every muscle and straining every 
 nerve in his body, with tears flowing over his face and prayer 
 book, the while he was trying to persuade God and induce Him 
 to look down from Heaven and see for Himself how badly we had 
 been treated. 
 
 Exactly what his business was I do not know, except that he 
 used to buy various articles for a German in Kovno, whom he 
 had met there some years before. The man had taken a fancy 
 to him, and had started doing business with him. Evidently 
 Uncle must have made good money through that connection, for 
 he lived comparatively well. He was always talking about and 
 praising the Germans, telling us how good, nice and honest they 
 were. 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 53 
 
 All these things influenced me in deciding to go to Germany. 
 I spoke about it to my father, who was preparing to go away 
 for several weeks, and he suggested that I wait until he returned, 
 and then arrangements would be made for me to go to KoenigS' 
 berg, in Preussen. I was overjoyed at the prospect, and went to 
 see Frau Maurishheit every few days, to have her teach me the 
 German alphabet. However, something happened which altered 
 my plans. 
 
 My mother had a relative by the name of Ishaya, a venerable- 
 looking man with a white beard and a face like a patriarch. He 
 was a "maggid," a preacher. He used to travel from town to town, 
 giving lectures on the Talmud and on the Commentaries of the 
 Talmud, incidentally getting in on some good meals and picking 
 up a few roubles here and there. 
 
 Just at the time when I was talking and dreaming about my 
 journey to Germany, Rabbi Ishaya came to Poniemon and, of 
 course, stopped at our house. His coming used to confuse my 
 mother. In one way she was pleased at having a chance to boast 
 about the big men we had in the family, but he also was a burden 
 and an expense to her. Whereas he would stay only a few days 
 with people in other towns, when he came to Poniemon he would 
 stay at our house for a full two or three weeks. He would tell 
 mother that her cooking was so good for his health, that after he 
 had stayed with us a fortnight, he was an entirely different Ishaya 
 — he could study better, preach better and sleep better. 
 
 My clever brother Harris once remarked: "Let us hope that 
 once in a while he will be strong and healthy, sleep better and 
 study better and become a different Ishaya — on other people's 
 food also!" 
 
 On this particular occasion, however, when mother saw him 
 coming, she ran to meet him, bade him welcome and gleefully 
 exclaimed: 
 
54 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "I am always glad when you come, but this time I am happier 
 than ever, because I have a very important decision to make, and 
 I want your advice.'" 
 
 This did not augur well for me. I saw that my destiny was at 
 stake, but I could say nothing. I gave him my hand, and uttered 
 the usual greeting, "Peace be to you, Uncle." 
 
 Ishaya took off his overcoat, sat down and smoothed his long 
 gray beard. 
 
 "With God's help," he said to my mother, "I hope to give you 
 the right advice, but first of all, let us have tea. After the tea, I 
 have to go to the Synagogue for services, and with God's help, 
 tomorrow we can talk about private matters." 
 
 The next day, just as I had surmised, mother told him about 
 the plan to send me to Germany, and asked for his opinion. 
 
 Ishaya was not a very pleasant person, and not very friendly, 
 especially toward children. I heard him say once that children 
 were a nuisance, though necessary, to be sure. Calling me over, 
 he asked me a few questions, to determine what I knew of the 
 Bible and the Talmud, and then gave mother his opinion. 
 
 "Germany/ ' he said, "is dangerous to all Jews, and more so to 
 youngsters like Beril." (Alas, how truly his prophesy has been 
 fulfilled under Hitler's regime!) "As soon as they get there," he 
 averred, "they stop going to the Synagogue to pray, and little by 
 little they stop praying altogether, become indifferent as to 
 whether the food they eat is kosher or not, and even forget that 
 they are Jews." 
 
 He advised, therefore, that since my brother, Harris, was in 
 Wilno, I should go there and spend at least two years, attending 
 a school which he knew to be one of the best in that city. He 
 offered to write to the head teacher of the school and ask him 
 to keep an eye on me all the time and pump as much Torah into 
 me as possible. After the end of two years, it might or might 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 55 
 
 not be wise to let me go to Koenigsberg. In principle, he was 
 against anyone going to that Godless country. 
 
 He asked me what I thought of the idea, and I, feeling angry 
 and disappointed, answered rather harshly, "Like pepper in my 
 eyes." 
 
 He slapped my face, called me an impudent loafer and told me 
 to get out of his sight. Later he remarked to mother that he was 
 sure I had already tasted the poison of unbelief. In that he was 
 right, for in my heart of hearts I thought very little of that class 
 of fanatical Jews. 
 
 A few weeks later, when father came home, the matter was 
 decided, and I had to get ready to go to Wilno. The date was set, 
 and father and I wrote to Hirsh when to expect me. 
 
 While I was making preparations to leave, I suggested to 
 mother, that Moishe, the son of Yakir, the Melamed, come with 
 me. This Yakir, who subsequently died from undernourishment, 
 had been one of my teachers when I started to study the Bible 
 and the Talmud. Moishe used to be my partner when his father 
 gave me instruction, or as we used to phrase it, he would "learn 
 the Talmud with me." Unfortunately, Moishe was not very 
 bright, and could not grasp the meaning of the complicated Tal' 
 mudic discussions to suit his father. 
 
 Yakir believed firmly in the use of a strong arm for dumb 
 pupils. He often averred that "the only and best method to make 
 scoundrels study and understand is to make good use of the whip, 
 the stick and the fist. One has to force their will to study by 
 knocking it into their heads, or they will never get anywhere." 
 
 He liked to tell the fathers of his pupils about the instructions 
 Czar Nicholas, the First, once gave to the generals of the Rus- 
 sian Army. During his reign, and for a long time during the 
 regimes of his successors, the training of soldiers was accompanied 
 by corporal punishment. Lashing was the penalty for the most 
 trivial offense or for failure to learn the military rules quickly 
 
56 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 enough. Every officer had the right to punish a soldier with a 
 certain number of lashes on his bare body, the number of lashes 
 being dependent on the rank of the officer. Thus, a second lieu- 
 tenant was entitled to, say twenty lashes, and these increased 
 in number according to the rank of the officer, until the strokes 
 sometimes numbered enough to cause death. According to Reb 
 Yakir, Nicholas, the First, had ordered his generals to be very 
 liberal with the "knout," for, "If out of twenty soldiers," he 
 said, "you flog nineteen to death, and give me one good one, I 
 will be satisfied." Where Reb Yakir got his information was a 
 mystery, but he liked the method and often talked about it. 
 
 One afternoon, when Moishe and I were learning the laws, by 
 laws and comments about divorce, the question arose as to how 
 many witnesses were necessary to deliver a divorce to the wife, 
 not by the husband, but by a messenger, in order to make it 
 valid. 
 
 I knew the answer and wanted to reply, but Yakir stopped 
 me and insisted that Moishe answer. The poor fellow did not 
 know, and kept quiet. His father repeated the question several 
 times, and when he received no reply, he became enraged, took 
 hold of a heavy stick, lifted it over Moishe's head, and shouted: 
 "Will you answer or not?" 
 
 Moishe looked up, his eyes on the stick, ready with his hand 
 to stop the blow from falling too harshly upon him, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 Just at that moment, my brother, Hirsh, came in, and when 
 he saw the predicament Moishe was in, he grasped Yakir's hand, 
 and said: 
 
 "Wait! If the question you want him to answer were a secret 
 which he knew and you did not, and he refused to reveal it to 
 you, then it might be proper for you to try and force him to 
 answer. But here the matter is reversed. You know it and he 
 does not; then it is for you to tell him what the answer is. How 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 57 
 
 can he answer when he does not know? Do you think that strik' 
 ing him with the stick will bring the answer from him, just as 
 Moses struck the stone with his stick and brought water from it? 
 
 "You know, Reb Yakir," my brother continued, "he was a 
 different Moishe, or Moses. He was Moishe, our teacher, but 
 your Moishe is just a little boy — a pupil trying to learn and 
 understand." 
 
 Reb Yakir was confused and embarrassed, not knowing what 
 to say. The argument was too strong for him. Then, I, thinking 
 it clever, butted in with the remark: 
 
 "Perhaps Reb Yakir thinks Moishe's head is made of stone." 
 
 "Yes, yes," Yakir agreed, "a stone head, a stone head, and 
 that is my son!" And swinging the stick, he shouted, "I will yet 
 knock some knowledge into your dumb stony head." 
 
 Thinking to show friendship to my mother, Reb Yakir insisted 
 that I remain beside him during the services on the special day of 
 mourning known as "Tishabaov," commemorating the destruc 
 tion of the Temple. On that day, not only was one expected to 
 weep, but to tear out one's very heart with weeping. During the 
 evening services, lasting about four hours, the entire congregation 
 would sit upon the floor, each person holding a candle in one 
 hand and the Book of Lamentations in the other. 
 
 Reb Yakir was particularly vehement as he chanted the Hebrew 
 lines: "Our land was taken from us — our Temple destroyed, 
 and our possessions given to strangers. God, our God — see what 
 has happened to us! Woe to us!" 
 
 I was amazed to see my Rabbi as overcome with anguish as 
 though all this had happened to him personally — as though he, 
 himself, had just suffered a major calamity. His tears overflowed 
 upon the candle and the book. 
 
 At intervals, the congregation paused in their lamenting, and 
 the Cantor and the choir would take up the refrain. By the time 
 the services were over, every person in the hot, crowded, ilWenti' 
 
58 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 lated room was wringing wet with tears and perspiration, and 
 half -dead from the emotional strain. 
 
 Since then, whenever anything terrible has happened in Jew 
 ish life, this scene has recurred vividly to my mind, and especially 
 today, when I read of the fate of the Jews of Europe, does this 
 picture present itself to me again. 
 
 The word "Yakir" means, in Hebrew, "dearest" or "darling." 
 Brother Harris, who could not resist speaking up when the occa- 
 sion seemed to warrant, made no exception even at the funeral of 
 Reb Yakir, using the meaning of his name to point his remarks. 
 
 The services were held in the two rooms where the deceased 
 had lived with his wife and two sons, one of whom was a cripple. 
 The man who officiated and made the eulogy (it was not the 
 Rabbi of the town), said among other things that the departed 
 was precisely as his name indicated — "Yakir," meaning "dear- 
 est" — he was dearest to all of us. 
 
 At this point, Brother Harris interrupted: 
 
 "Oh, no," he said, "he was not dear to you or to anyone in 
 town. If he were as you say, then those who considered him 
 so dear would have seen to it that he had enough to eat, and 
 a doctor and medicine when he was sick. But that was not done. 
 You let him suffer hunger, you let him starve, you let him die, 
 without anyone helping him. What you say is not true — he 
 was not dear to you. The only one to whom he was dear was 
 God, and that is why He took him away from you, so that He 
 could care for him in Heaven, as he deserved." 
 
 These remarks created a commotion, and the widow fainted 
 in the arms of a woman standing beside her. The speaker com- 
 manded silence, and said it was a sin for anyone to create a dis- 
 turbance at a funeral, and that the impudent rascal would have 
 to answer to the Almighty for being so disrespectful to Reb Yakir 
 and his friends. 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 59 
 
 "It was the will of God," he shouted, "that Reb Yakir should 
 depart from this world, and no human being has any right to 
 question the ways of God." Turning his eyes on the corpse, he 
 said, "Forgive us, Reb Yakir, for the disrespect shown to you 
 by a little ignorant fellow. 
 
 "Let no one mention what has happened here,' 1 he then cau' 
 tioned the assemblage, "for it is a terrible sin to do so." And the 
 matter was thus suppressed. 
 
 Little Moishe, son of Reb Yakir, was now an orphan, poor, 
 hungry, half -naked. He used to come to our house for something 
 to eat. I felt very sorry for him, and very often asked mother to 
 give him an old coat or some money, which she did. 
 
 When I suggested to mother that Moishe come with me to 
 Wilno, she asked: "But how? The fare to Wilno costs a fortune." 
 
 Thus far only two people from our town had ever gone to 
 Wilno by train. Uncle Michael once went there on business for 
 his German, and when he returned he was kept busy for weeks 
 telling of his "riding with the machine." (In those days, people 
 called the train, "the machine".) He was not one to brag or 
 boast of his accomplishments, but merely liked to give uninvited 
 information and advice. Often I heard him remark: "May God 
 help every deserving Jew to enable him to ride with the machine." 
 
 "It is unbelievable," he would say. "You sit just as in your 
 house, not afraid of rain or snow, no horse dragging you through 
 rivers of mud; you are not afraid of being tipped over and thrown 
 out — but with joy and pleasure you look through the window 
 and see yourself flying, flying past houses and people and trees, 
 like a wind. 
 
 "I hope," he would add, "God will let me live long enough to 
 have another chance to ride on the machine before I die." 
 
 The only other person from our town who had gone to Wilno 
 on the "machine" was my brother, Harris. Now, to have this 
 great experience all alone was not enough for me! I wanted 
 
60 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Moishe, Yakir's son, to keep me company. It turned out that this 
 was not hard to accomplish after all. The fare was less than 
 expected, being only a few roubles, and my father donated a 
 little and obtained some money from several people "for Reb 
 Yakir's orphan," and the two of us started out. 
 
 I put my belongings, which were not many, in a sack; and 
 mother gave me a half potful of cooked prunes to take along, 
 covered up with muslin and tied many times around with a heavy 
 cord. She cautioned me at least a dozen times about the pot of 
 prunes — first, God forbid, not to drop and break it; and second, 
 not to open it until I got to my brother, Hirsh, and then to eat it 
 sparingly with bread so that it would last a long time, for such 
 a "meichel," or delicacy in food, was not to be found every- 
 where. 
 
 Mother sent for Meier, the expressman, to come with his 
 "Herring" and wagon to our house. "Herring" was our nick' 
 name for his horse, which was a hungry-looking, skinny nag. 
 Father was not able to go with us to the station, and asked 
 Nachum, "the little one," husband of Freida Leah, to show us 
 the way, as he was going somewhere near Kovno. Generally, 
 women were designated as the wives of their husbands, but with 
 Nachum it was the reverse, because he was a very short fellow, 
 while his wife was a tall, husky woman. Therefore, he was des- 
 ignated as "the husband of Freida Leah." 
 
 We got to the station long before train time, and Moishe and 
 I decided to look around and investigate things. We took turns. 
 First, I went out to investigate and Moishe watched the luggage. 
 His baggage consisted of half a loaf of bread, a prayer book, a 
 book of Psalms, two sour pickles and his "Tefillin," or phylac 
 teries. When I came back, he went out to see what he could find, 
 and he did find something rather different from what he expected. 
 
 He had crossed the rails, which was forbidden, and had begun 
 "snooping" around, when a Russian, not a Litvak, mind you, 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 61 
 
 presented him with two Russian punches in the face, and chased 
 him back to the station. Slaps and all kinds of beatings were not 
 new to Moishe, for he got plenty of those from his father or from 
 other friendly people who wanted him to grow up to be a good, 
 pious man; but they were all Jews, and a beating from a Jew 
 was not so humiliating and certainly not so painful as one from 
 a "Goy," especially a Russian. 
 
 Moishe thought the punches terrible and a sign that the begin" 
 ning of the journey was not very promising, and felt somewhat 
 resentful; but just then we had to get on the train, and I forgot 
 about his unpleasant experience. Though not for long. We both 
 sat down at open windows, and I looked out, watching every" 
 thing that was going on, thinking of all the wonders Uncle 
 Michael had described so minutely, and enjoying myself im' 
 mensely. Several men with red caps were standing near the train, 
 evidently watchmen or switchmen — at any rate, officials of the 
 Government. All of a sudden I saw Moishe, who was sitting at 
 the open window in front of me, holding a large piece of wood 
 in his hand, and before I could prevent him, he leaned out and 
 hit one of the red'capped men over the head with it, so that the 
 man fell down. And as if that were not enough, he stuck his head 
 out of the window, and still brandishing the piece of wood, 
 shouted: "Sabbaka!" ("Dog.") That word every boy knew. 
 
 I was terribly frightened and expected all kinds of trouble. The 
 poor man shook his fist at us, but in a few minutes, fortunately 
 for us, the train moved on, and he was soon out of sight. 
 
 "Why did you do that?" I shouted at Moishe. 
 
 "Well," he said, "that was in payment for the punches I got 
 at the station." 
 
 "But that man did not hit you," I exclaimed. 
 
 "Oh," he answered, "these Russians are all alike. One is 
 as bad as another, so what is the difference?" 
 
62 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 It was a seven-hour ride from Kovno to Wilno. In about half 
 that time the novelty of "riding with the machine' wore off, and 
 we began to experience the unpleasant side of the ride. The smoke 
 from the engine blackened our baggage, our clothes and our faces, 
 and got into our luggage. My companion coughed up some black 
 slime, which frightened him. He said it looked like ink, and I 
 advised him not to waste it, then, as ink was an expensive article. 
 
 Soon our hearty appetites, which had been somewhat sup' 
 pressed by excitement, called attention to our food supplies. 
 Moishe and I shared his black bread, herring and pickles and my 
 white bread, cheese and hard-boiled eggs. Then the question of 
 the prunes came up. This was not as difficult a problem to solve 
 as the divorce question, especially for Moishe, as he knew what 
 was in the pot, and he eyed it with great concern. I told him 
 about the promise I had made to my mother not to open the pot 
 until we met my brother, Hirsh, in Wilno, but what do you think 
 this foolish boy answered? He said to me, after thinking hard for 
 a minute or two: 
 
 "You promised your mother not to open it, and you must keep 
 your promise, but I did not promise her anything, and I will 
 open it." 
 
 I thought his answer so clever that I told him he had earned 
 some prunes, and let him open the dish. It goes without saying, 
 of course, that if I had not been as anxious as he to get at the 
 prunes, his answer would not have seemed so clever to me! 
 
 When I looked at the inviting fruit, I remembered the trick 
 Hirsh had once played on me, which I have related here, and 
 I felt justified in eating as much as we wanted. However, we 
 were careful not to overdo it, and reached Wilno with more 
 than half the prunes still untouched. 
 
 Hirsh met us at the railroad station, and told us that we did 
 not look at all well. He was right. The smoke and dust had don? 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 63 
 
 a good job, covering us from head to foot. As usual, Hirsh had to 
 say something funny, so he remarked: 
 
 "If not for your voices, I wouldn't know which was which.'" 
 
 He took us to his headquarters, called the "Kramers' Klaus," 
 or "the shopkeeper's little synagogue." On the way, he stopped 
 at a corner and bought a spoonful of mashed potatoes from a 
 woman for one groshen — a half of a cent, eating it from the 
 spoon. When I refused his offer to treat me to a spoonful, because 
 it looked too dirty, he retorted that I had swallowed enough dirt 
 on the way to Wilno, and a little more wouldn't hurt me. 
 
 "The Shopkeeper's Synagogue" was a small place, and its mem' 
 bers were men belonging to the middle class. It had sleeping ac 
 commodations on the floor for seven students. Every place was 
 taken, but my brother persuaded a student, named Sinai, who 
 slept next to him, to move further to the wall and make room 
 for me between them. I strongly demurred to such arrangements. 
 I did not want to sleep on the floor; I did not want to sleep on 
 a straw sack; and I did not want to sleep sandwiched in like a 
 herring. 
 
 "Well," said my brother, "tonight you must sleep here, as there 
 is no other place, but tomorrow I will ask the Shamesh (beadle) 
 of the Shul to let you sleep in his house, and father will pay him 
 a little something for it. But," added Hirsh, "do not expect to 
 find a palace there like Ashfort's." 
 
 The Shamesh was a man of sixtyfive, tall, husky, with a long 
 beard, half blind and very rude. My brother arranged with him 
 to give me a bed in his house for one rouble a month, and the 
 next evening I went home with him. He lived with his wife 
 and an orphan niece of hers in two rooms, with a little nook 
 which, since it contained a stove, they called a kitchen. The 
 wife was a friendly woman, and told me she didn't care so much 
 for the rouble, as that she wanted to help along a boy who was 
 willing to learn God's holy Torah. She also told me, confidentially, 
 
64 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 that should I at any time feel hungry and have no place to get a 
 meal, to come to her house and she would feed me something. 
 This woman's kindness and encouragement helped me forget 
 somewhat my disgust for the whole business. 
 
 In addition to taking care of the Shul, it was the duty of the 
 beadle to procure "eating days" for the students. It was rumored 
 that he was a "grafter." Fellows who had money with which to 
 bribe him would obtain places where they got good food and 
 enough of it, but the others would have to take what they could 
 get. My brother had not given him anything, but since I lived 
 in his house, I had some claim on him for providing for me. After 
 I had spent two nights in his house, he told me that on the next 
 evening, which was Friday, I should stand with him at the exit 
 of the Synagogue after the services, and he would get me a place 
 where I could eat every Sabbath. 
 
 At the appointed time I was there standing beside him, wait' 
 ing. When the people started coming out, my tall, long'bearded 
 benefactor at once began to sing out loudly, in a pitiable, wailing 
 voice: 
 
 "God-fearing men, here is a poor orphan, who has no father 
 nor mother, and has no place where to appease his hunger, even 
 on the Sabbath Day. Have pity on him and take him to your 
 house for the Sabbath." 
 
 A shudder came over me. I trembled when I heard him say, 
 "orphan." It was considered a terrible appellation, as it was the 
 opinion of many that God punishes the children for the parents. 
 I pulled at his coat and told him I was not an orphan, God 
 forbid; but he pinched my arm savagely and whispered, "Keep 
 your mouth shut, you idiot!" 
 
 In a few minutes, I was instructed by one of the men to go 
 along with him. I soon found myself in a well furnished house, 
 with bright lights glittering from candles in silver candlesticks. 
 There were no children in the house, which was occupied only by 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 65 
 
 the man and his wife, who made a very good appearance; and the 
 man's mother, an old woman with an unfriendly, sour-looking 
 face. The master's name, as I learned later, was Wigdor Yaffe. 
 He was about forty years old, and was a bookkeeper for a large 
 concern. 
 
 For the moment, things looked very good, and I was happy to 
 have found for Sabbath a fine house with fine people; but I soon 
 felt entirely different. 
 
 The younger woman asked me, with noticeable sympathy, 
 where I had come from, how old I was, and how long my par' 
 ents were dead. Here I was stuck; tears came to my eyes, and I 
 wanted to leave the house. The good woman held me back. 
 
 "Oh, I'm sorry I asked you that," she said. "I suppose your 
 father and mother died not long ago, and that misfortune is still 
 fresh before your eyes." 
 
 "No! No!" I cried. "For Heaven's sake, do not say my parents 
 are dead. They are alive — may God keep them until the age 
 of a hundred and twenty. It was the beadle who said it, and when 
 I tried to stop him, he pinched me for it." 
 
 "Wigdor," called the woman to her husband, "this boy, thank 
 God, is not an orphan, and Sender, the Shamesh, lied to you." 
 
 "Oh," replied Wigdor, "he always does that to soften the 
 hearts of the people; otherwise very few would pay any atten- 
 tion to him." 
 
 "He should not do that," the wife returned, "You ought to 
 tell it to him, it is not right. Just imagine how this poor boy feels 
 to be called an orphan while his parents are alive." 
 
 I stood there all confused, and did not know what my status 
 was — was I wanted or not? The master was pacing up and 
 down the large room, chanting the Friday evening song about 
 the man's difficulty in finding a good woman, a woman who can 
 fill the heart of her husband with absolute confidence, a woman 
 who during her lifetime would reward her husband with every- 
 
66 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 thing good and not with anything bad, and who would aid the 
 poor and the needy. 
 
 I finally concluded that they had accepted me in the beginning 
 because they thought I was an orphan, and that now that they 
 had found out they had been deceived, and I was not an orphan, 
 they would not want me. So, with "A good Sabbath to you,''' I 
 started for the door. But Mrs. Yaffe restrained me, and insisted 
 that I stay and come to them every Sabbath for all the meals. 
 I remained, of course, but sat down to the table with a strong 
 desire in my heart to get away from the place as soon as possible. 
 
 When we were seated, the master chanted the prayer over the 
 wine, and then asked me to do likewise. As a rule, only one 
 person is supposed to make this prayer, including everyone pres- 
 ent in the blessing. However, I assumed that he wanted to try me 
 out, so I obeyed, and did my part very well. After that, I believed 
 everything would run smoothly, and would have felt as though 
 I were among friends, were it not for the old woman with her 
 sour face. 
 
 There was no maid in the house, and Mrs. Yaffe herself 
 served. For the first course, she brought in a platter of filled fish. 
 She served her husband and the old woman, and then came over 
 to me, placed an appetising looking portion on my plate, and 
 said smilingly: 
 
 "Now, my boy, don't be bashful, and go to it," and returned 
 to the kitchen. 
 
 Before I could take hold of my knife and fork, the old woman 
 came over and, without saying a word, cut the piece of fish in 
 half and took one part away. I felt embarrassed and humiliated. 
 The worst of it was that she had held the fish with her unclean 
 fingers while cutting it. 
 
 What could I do? I said nothing and sat staring toward the 
 window, wondering what to say if Mrs. Yaffe should ask me 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 67 
 
 what was wrong. She finally noticed I was not eating, and 
 came over. 
 
 She asked me the reason, but before I had a chance to answer, 
 the old woman interposed, saying: 
 
 "The portion of fish you gave him was too big for such a 
 little boy, and I took part of it away, and for that he feels in- 
 sulted." 
 
 "Mother," said Mr. Yaffe, "you should not have done that. I 
 cannot blame the boy for feeling hurt. Eva," he said to his wife, 
 "bring him the other half." 
 
 "No, no," I hastened to say, "please leave it alone," and added, 
 with emphasis, "I will not eat fish tonight and can get along very 
 well without it." 
 
 Mrs. Yaffe murmured something which I could not hear, but 1 
 could see from her demeanor that she "had it in" for her mother- 
 in-law, not only for this incident, but for many other things. 
 
 To make up for the fish I had missed, and no doubt to spite 
 her mother-in-law, Mrs. Yaffe treated me to unusually large por- 
 tions of the other courses — noodle soup, fried chicken, pickles 
 and cooked pears; and to show my appreciation, I cleaned up 
 every morsel. 
 
 When I left, I thanked my hosts and said the food tasted just 
 like my mother's, and she was known to be a very good cook. 
 I wished them all a "Good Shabbos," including the old sour-face, 
 and went away. That was my first experience and first Sabbath 
 meal as a charity student. 
 
 Within a comparatively short time, I managed to procure 
 enough places to get enough to eat every day in the week except 
 Tuesday, or the equivalent in money. On three days, I received 
 cash with which I could buy my own meals, and on the other 
 three days, I received three meals a day. If not for an unpleas- 
 ant conversation which I overheard between a husband and wife, 
 concerning me, I could have had money for Tuesday also, but 
 
68 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 my pride would not permit it; and since the amount I received 
 for the three days could take care of a fourth, I made no further 
 effort in that direction. The circumstances of this incident were 
 as follows: 
 
 One Friday evening I was advised by Mr. Yaffe to go to a 
 certain wealthy man, tell him I was sent by him, and ask him to 
 take care of me on Tuesday of each week. When I got there and 
 rang the bell, I was instructed by the maid to wait in the hall 
 until Mr. Zeman was ready to see me, as he was having break- 
 fast. He soon came out, and I told him my story. He asked me 
 to wait and went back into the house, leaving the door partly 
 open, so that I heard him discussing me with his wife. He pro- 
 posed to her to have me come for breakfast and dinner, and to 
 give me some food to take along for the evening meal; but his 
 wife objected to giving me anything, especially to letting me come 
 into the house. 
 
 "I am not going to let any of those filthy beggars into my 
 house," I heard her say. "Nobody knows what kind of disease 
 they are likely to bring in with them." 
 
 That was enough for me, and I quietly left. When Mr. Yaffe 
 asked me whether I had been there, I told him I had, but that 
 they were busy, and that I might go there again. 
 
 Moishe, my traveling companion, had during this time been 
 taken by Sender, the beadle, to the Remalish Shul, one of the 
 poorest synagogues in Wilno. A few months later, I heard, he 
 returned to Poniemon with a severe case of eczema. Here he 
 remained but a short time, and then left again for some place 
 or other. What finally became of him I never learned. 
 
 I stayed with Sender only five weeks, when I moved away 
 because of a dreadful accident that happened to his little niece. 
 Early one morning, while she was asleep, the big, clumsy Sender, 
 passing by her cot with a pitcher of hot water, slipped and spilled 
 part of it on her face. The poor little six-year-old was half -blinded 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 69 
 
 in one eye and part of her face was marked for life. Her agony 
 and suffering drove me from the house, and I went to live with 
 a poor relative of Mr. Yaffe. 
 
 A strange occurrence now suddenly confronted me, which ever 
 after remained an enigma to me, as well as to my brother, Hirsh. 
 All of a sudden, Hirsh became a religious fanatic. I was actually 
 afraid he would go insane. There was no trace of his usual self. 
 He banished all jollity, wit and humor from his makeup, and 
 prayed and studied from early morning until late at night. He 
 became sombre and sad. I feared meeting him, for he would fall 
 on my shoulders, crying and mumbling that I should be good and 
 not sin; that this world meant nothing; that it had been created 
 by God only for the purpose of testing out the Jews and sepa- 
 rating the good from the evil ones, the good ones to become 
 angels in Heaven, and the sinful to go to Gehenna, or Hell, there 
 to be kept in a burning oven for all eternity. I tried to reason 
 with him, but he got worse, so I wrote home, and my father 
 and mother hurried to Wilno. 
 
 Father took him to a doctor, who examined him and prescribed 
 some medicine to soothe his nerves. He instructed my father not 
 to let him study for a while and see that he got good food and 
 a great deal of rest; that if he insisted on having books, to get 
 him story books in Hebrew, Yiddish or Russian. 
 
 In a week or so, father left, but mother stayed on with us for 
 three weeks, and these were the best three weeks I had in Wilno. 
 Father had obtained a few jobs appraising timberland, mak- 
 ing good money thereby, and mother also had managed to save 
 some cash, so we had enough to have a good time, which meant 
 eating in a restaurant daily, drinking tea both morning and 
 afternoon, and strolling about seeing Wilno. 
 
 It was wintertime, and the weather was not very pleasant, but 
 we did not mind it. One day I took mother to watch the Russian 
 
70 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 boys and girls on a skating rink. She admired the youngsters for a 
 while, with their faces flushed and excited from the cold brisk 
 air, as they performed their tricks on the ice; but she soon jumped 
 up as from a dream and said, smiling, but in an irritated tone to 
 cover her smile: 
 
 "Ah, my son, as long as you have such foolishness in your head 
 and consider it proper even to bring your mother to see and 
 enjoy the way these ungodly youths spend their time in wild 
 frivolity, then you are not much better than they, and God 
 knows what will become of you." 
 
 I strongly suspected that mother did not mean what she said 
 and only made those remarks as a safeguard and warning to me, 
 so I did not comment, except to say: 
 
 "Do not be afraid. This is only the third time I have been here, 
 and it will probably be the last." 
 
 Brother Harris got well, mother went home, and two months 
 later, a few weeks before Passover, I also went home. 
 
 If anyone thought that the five months I spent in Wilno really 
 benefited me, from the point of view of Jewish learning, as Uncle 
 Ishaya had expected, they were sadly mistaken. Not only did I 
 not become more religious or acquire more knowledge, but on 
 the contrary, I was disappointed with the studies, the students, 
 the teachers, and everything else connected with the experience. 
 
 I cannot understand now, any more than I did at that time, 
 why parents were so unreasonable as to force youngsters of 
 twelve and thirteen years to strain their minds in the study of 
 the Talmud, when even grown men find it difficult to untangle 
 its knotty, confusing problems. As an example of the sort of thing 
 we had to contend with. I remember our studying the laws of the 
 Sabbath, which is asserted to be a day of rest, with work of any 
 kind prohibited. Now, the question is according to the Mishnah 
 and Talmud, what constitutes "work," and these instances are 
 cited: 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 71 
 
 If one puts his hand into the yard of his neighbor and gets it 
 full of rain water, and then withdraws it, can you call that labor? 
 Or, may a tailor go out with his needle on Friday, when it is 
 already dark, lest he may forget and carry it with him the whole 
 day of Sabbath? Is it permitted to extinguish a lamp on the Sab- 
 bath because one is afraid of robbers, or so that a sick person 
 should be able to sleep? Is it permitted for a woman to go out on 
 Sabbath wearing a gold ornament? There are thousands of such 
 problems, to which there are all kinds of answers and opinions, 
 given by various rabbis who cannot agree. 
 
 Furthermore, young boys from small towns which did not 
 have proper Talmudic schools would be sent to larger cities to 
 study, just as I was, and to live at the expense of the community 
 there. No matter how willing the Jewish families were to take 
 care of such students, they could hardly do so properly, most of 
 them being themselves very poor. In most cases, these boys would 
 have to study the whole day and quite often in the evening as 
 well, and live as the poorest of the poor. After spending five 
 months in such an atmosphere, I wondered how anyone could 
 stand it. Yet, in the city where I underwent this experience, there 
 were many hundreds of students between the ages of thirteen and 
 twenty, who were making this study the business of their lives. 
 
 Of course, I kept all these thoughts to myself, and still hoped 
 that some day I would be permitted to go to Germany. 
 
 My brother, Harris, also became less religious after his recov- 
 ery, and though not as "bad" as I, subsequently spent a great 
 deal of his time reading Hebrew and Russian novels, which were 
 not considered "kosher," and studying languages, geography, his- 
 tory and similar secular subjects. However, he still retained a cer- 
 tain degree of religious feeling, and soon after Passover, he left 
 for Vilosen, a well known seat of Jewish learning. I did not 
 see him again until he came to America, although I learned that 
 from Vilosen he went to Odessa, where, because of passport 
 
72 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 difficulties, he had to change his name. He secured employment 
 as a clerk in a hardware store, got married and had two children, 
 changed his name again, went to Palestine, and from there finally 
 came to New York and then to Chicago. 
 
 * * * 
 
 I was still the greatest problem in the family, and the ques' 
 tion persisted — What was to become of me? 
 
 However, as mother used to say, "God is good. He provides 
 the hungry with bread, the naked with clothes, the drinker with 
 wine." We all felt He would not forsake me, and He did not. 
 
 About two weeks after Passover, my father received a letter 
 containing an offer of steady employment for several years. A 
 dealer in forest timber, named Israel Akabash, had purchased tens 
 of thousands of forest trees from the Russian Government, which 
 had to be removed in a certain time. Mr. Akabash took in two 
 partners, named Lovenstein and Bloch, who were Russian Jews 
 living in Germany. These three men formed a company under the 
 name of Lovenstein & Company, and they wanted father to be 
 the superintendent of their project. He was to secure the proper 
 men to cut the timber and remove it, provide housing for the men, 
 and so forth. His salary was to be fifty roubles a month, plus 
 living expenses. 
 
 Father accepted the offer and went to meet Mr. Akabash, re- 
 turning a few days later with an agreement for the length of 
 time it would take to remove all the timber. The tract was located 
 in Lithuania, about fifty miles from our town and a few miles 
 from a village called Alaburdesh. 
 
 My father suggested that I join him there — he would go 
 first and let me know when to follow. He felt I would be useful 
 to him, as I could keep house for him and see that everything was 
 kept in good order. My father was very systematic, and particular 
 about cleanliness and order. He also instructed me to take along a 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 73 
 
 few volumes of the Talmud, so that I could study in my spare 
 time, and he would help me. Father knew the Talmud well. 
 
 In a few days he left, and several weeks later I received a letter 
 from him, with money and instructions as to how to get to the 
 place. While I was waiting for his letter, mother had taught me 
 how to cook, wash dishes, and do other housework. I also went 
 to Frau Maurishheit, to learn as much German as possible, as I 
 still hoped to get to Germany sooner or later. 
 
 When I was about to leave, I could not locate my father's 
 letter containing his instructions. It seems mother had taken the 
 letter over to Rabbi Avremil, for no other reason, I imagine, than 
 to show him what a great man her husband was. 
 
 I could not delay, but had to go, letter or no letter. There 
 was no use asking anyone how to get to Alaburdesh, as no one 
 seemed to know the way. However, I knew that Mr. Akabash 
 lived near there, and since he was very well known, I kept asking 
 for him. I learned that he lived on the main road, about ten miles 
 from the town of Michaleshok. 
 
 Saying goodbye, I started on my way. Of course, I walked. 
 My luggage consisted only of some underwear, a prayer book, 
 and cheese, which I carried in a sack tied around my shoulders. 
 The weather was nice, and I did not mind walking. Of course, if 
 I had been able to run as fast as my college grandson, Nat New- 
 man, who has won several running races, and could have kept 
 up that pace continuously, I might have reached my destination 
 in several hours. As it was, it took me two days to get to Mr. 
 AkabastTs house. 
 
 Here I had an unpleasant experience, the memory of which still 
 fills me with disgust. When I arrived at the house, which looked 
 like a mansion, I rang the bell, and a maid opened the door and 
 told me that the master was not at home. I then asked for Mrs. 
 Akabash, but she would not come to the door until I informed 
 her, through the maid, who I was and what I wanted. When she 
 
74 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 did come, she did not even ask me in, but coldly described the 
 way to Alaburdesh in such a manner that I could only half 
 understand her. 
 
 I later learned that there were two buggies with two fine horses 
 in the barn at the time, and that Mrs. Akabash could easily have 
 had me driven over to my father; yet she would not even let me 
 in the house. I subsequently found that, while Mr. Akabash was 
 a fine man in every respect, his wife was known to be an except 
 tionally mean person. 
 
 It was now seven o'clock in the evening, and I had walked from 
 seven in the morning. My bread and cheese were gone, and 
 though I had some money with me, there were no houses around 
 where I might stop for the night, nor any place where I could 
 buy something to eat. What was I to do? 
 
 I hung around for a while, and then started to walk in the 
 general direction that Mrs. Akabash had indicated, and after 
 walking for about an hour, I met a Lithuanian, who showed me a 
 short cut to Alaburdesh. I arrived about nine o'clock, and ap' 
 proaching a house, tried to gain admittance, but the dogs would 
 not let me near the building. My calling and shouting finally 
 brought out the head of the family, who took me into the house, 
 gave me milk and bread and a bench to sleep on. He had eight 
 children, all of whom slept on the floor. 
 
 The next morning, the good man hitched up one of his horses 
 and took me to my father. I offered to pay him, but he refused, 
 and accepted only a few drinks of whiskey and a few herring 
 from my father before turning back. 
 
 The frame house in which my father, myself and two other 
 men were to live had just been completed. I found that they 
 had already installed dishes, cooking pots, a samovar, tea and 
 sugar, and that all that remained was for me to start my duties 
 as housemaid and cook. That same evening I prepared a meal con- 
 sisting of fried herring, noodle milk soup and omelet. Father 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 75 
 
 could not get over how good the soup was. He said it was better 
 than mother made. I knew the reason it was. Mother used to 
 mix the milk soup with water, which I did not do, and besides, I 
 added a little sweet cream to the milk, which made it tastier. 
 
 Shortly thereafter, we built another place, big enough to house 
 the seventy-five or so Russian workmen whom father had secured 
 from the nearest large Russian city, to fell the trees. Within two 
 months, what had been practically a wilderness, extending for 
 miles, became a beehive of industry, with wagons coming and 
 going, hauling our timber away and bringing supplies for our 
 workers, and so forth. 
 
 I soon hired a Lithuanian woman to look after the house and 
 do the cooking, while I busied myself making money on the side, 
 as the opportunity presented itself. It so happened that there was 
 a demand for drinks from the men who came there, so I ordered, 
 along with our food supplies, a few gallons of whiskey, and this 
 I sold for so much a drink. Although father disapproved, I con- 
 tinued despite his objection and was doing fine, saving money, 
 every day. However, word of my venture reached the ears of Mr. 
 Lovenstein, and he wrote Mr. Akabash to put a stop to it. Still, 
 when I went home for the Holidays I took with me two hundred 
 roubles,, all my own money. 
 
 During the time I spent with my father in Alaburdesh, I had 
 my first opportunity to become really acquainted with him. At 
 home, we had seen him only during the holidays, and we were then 
 too busy with other things — attending the lengthy services in 
 the synagogue, eating the big holiday meals and visiting — to get 
 to know him as an individual. The only personal conversations 
 I or my brothers ever had with him consisted of his questioning 
 us about our studies, or about the misdeeds we had committed 
 during his long absences, as reported by our mother, and his criti- 
 cism and advice. Although we looked upon him with admiration 
 
76 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 and respect, he was something of a stranger to us, and we did not 
 feel nearly as close to him as we did to our mother. 
 
 Now, with both of us alone together in Alaburdesh, things 
 were different. Though my father was kept very busy with the 
 manifold duties relating to his work, he managed to find time to 
 hold long and intimate conversations with me, and to instruct me 
 occasionally in the study of the Talmud. Our talks were like 
 those which take place between two friends, rather than between 
 father and son. Soon he was confiding to me many of the circum- 
 stances of his life. 
 
 Among these was one of which no one in the family was aware, 
 except mother. Before relating it to me, he warned me that I 
 must never mention it to anyone, especially to mother, who, he 
 said, would be very disturbed if she found out that I knew 
 about it. 
 
 This deep secret was that his father, who lived in a village 
 called Sakie, was a tailor. In those days, among the Jews, a tailor 
 or a shoemaker was looked upon as very inferior socially, and it 
 was taken for granted that one so engaged was crude and ignorant, 
 and unfit to associate with any but those of his own class. 
 Father told me that mother was in constant fear that this "ig- 
 noble' ' ancestry of his would be discovered, which would greatly 
 detract from the family's standing in the community. 
 
 My paternal grandfather, although a tailor, was a man of wis- 
 dom, learning and piety. These virtues were recognised by his 
 townspeople and the local Rabbi to the extent that they offered to 
 support him, so that he might devote all of his time to study. But 
 this offer he refused, insisting upon earning his own livelihood, by 
 manual work. From early morning until late afternoon, he worked 
 for a fellow tailor, and spent the balance of his time in the study 
 of the Talmud and other sacred books. 
 
 Father emphasized several times that the manner in which his 
 father earned his living made no difference to him. On the con- 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 77 
 
 trary, he said, he would like to see Jews in general, including his 
 own sons, become skilled workmen, so that they would have defi- 
 nite means of earning their livelihood, and not have to wait for 
 some vague opportunity to present itself, as was the case with so 
 many Jewish young men who were trained only in the sacred writ- 
 ings, which training could not be put to any practical use. He had 
 little regard for such individuals, who were commonly known as 
 "Luft Menschen," or aimless people. In this I agreed with him. 
 
 I have kept my word to my father until now, this being the 
 first mention I have ever made of our little family secret. 
 
 The many discussions I had with my father made me feel very 
 important, and I was proud of the fact that he looked upon me as 
 one worthy of his confidence. I looked up to him in almost every- 
 thing, except that often, during the time we studied the Talmud 
 together, I felt impelled to disagree with him. Not that I doubted 
 his wisdom, but I felt it rather silly to spend time discussing com- 
 plex ideas that had nothing to do with practical life. 
 
 All in all, we got along wonderfully well, and I was very happy, 
 until this ideal state of affairs was one day suddenly interrupted 
 by a thoughtless act of mine. 
 
 For Saturday morning services, father and I would usually 
 walk through the surrounding forest for about three-quarters of 
 an hour, to a neighboring village, where Jews of the district would 
 gather for worship. One Saturday morning, when it was raining 
 heavily, father informed me that he would stay at home and con- 
 duct private services with his two Jewish assistants, but that I 
 should go on to the village. I set out in the heavy downpour, 
 in my bulky raincoat and rubbers. Just then a peasant of my 
 acquaintance drove by in his wagon, drawn by two spirited 
 horses, and invited me to ride with him. Without further thought, 
 I jumped in beside him, and off we went. 
 
 When I returned home that afternoon, I found my father look- 
 ing very disturbed and unhappy. I could not imagine what had 
 
78 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 happened to upset him so much. Before I had a chance to ques' 
 tion him as to what was wrong, he exclaimed: 
 
 "Do you realise what a crime you committed this morning, on 
 the holy Sabbath?" 
 
 It then dawned on me what I had done. My father must have 
 seen me get into the peasant's wagon, and was grieving over my 
 having thus desecrated the Sabbath. As to all orthodox Jews, this 
 was to him an unforgivable sin. 
 
 I thought I might explain to him that since, with the fast 
 horses, the ride was but a short one, the sin was accordingly of 
 little consequence. But I said nothing, realising he would listen 
 to no excuses. He told me that I had destroyed his trust in me — 
 that the joy of the Sabbath had been ruined, and he had not 
 tasted food the whole day because of my transgression. He could 
 not imagine, he said, how it was possible for me to have com- 
 mitted such a heinous offense, unless, God forbid, I was an 
 unbeliever — an atheist! 
 
 The next three days were miserable ones for both of us. I 
 finally wrote him a note, appealing to him in the manner of the 
 Jews appealing to God on Yom Kippur for forgiveness. I cited 
 a few phrases from the prayers of that day, which state that in 
 the eyes of God, repentance averts judgment. 
 
 When he had read the letter, which I had pinned to his pillow 
 the night before, he said: 
 
 "I see that you are sincere and that you realise the enormity 
 of your crime against our religion, and I will have to forgive you." 
 
 In spite of his words, however, there was afterward a certain 
 reserve on my part toward him, and we did not get back on the 
 same old friendly footing of happy companionship for quite a 
 while. 
 
 * * * 
 
 When I came home with my precious savings, I told my parents 
 that I felt I was independent and that I could use this money as 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 79 
 
 I saw fit, since it was all mine and no one had helped me earn it. 
 I also informed them that soon after the Holidays, I planned to 
 leave for Germany. Father consented to my going, and a few 
 weeks later I headed for Koenigsberg, finally realising my dreams. 
 
 The day before I left, I overheard a discussion between my 
 parents concerning my journey. Mother thought that it was risky 
 and unfair on their part to let their son, a mere youngster, travel 
 alone from one country to another, crossing frontiers without a 
 passport and without anyone to guide him. She, therefore, pro' 
 posed that father go with me to Wirbalen, on the Russian border, 
 and wait there until I was safely across on the German side. 
 
 Father, however, demurred to this proposition, asserting that 
 I was old enough to take care of myself; that he had no time, and 
 that it would be expensive for him to go with me. He would give 
 me a letter, he said, to a friend of his at Wirbalen, who would 
 arrange for me to cross the frontier without any difficulty. 
 
 But mother insisted and, as usual, had her way. I was not over- 
 joyed at this, for I really felt that father was right — I was no 
 longer a little boy who needed to be led around by the hand. I 
 wanted to be independent and free to do as I chose. I was a Bar 
 Mitsvah. Knowing, however, that mother would have her way 
 anyhow, I said nothing, and the next day my father and I left 
 for Wirbalen. 
 
 We arrived at noon, and by six o'clock in the afternoon of the 
 same day I was in Eydkuhnen, on the German side of the border 
 line — and an hour later was on my way to Koenigsberg. 
 
 Any attempt to cross the border without a proper passport was 
 a serious offense under the laws of the Russian Government, and 
 being caught meant severe punishment. But six roubles in cash 
 to the right party fully took care of the law, and I had very little 
 difficulty in the matter. 
 
 Most of the people in the car with me were traveling without 
 passports, and while we were on the Russian side, they were 
 
80 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 restless and nervous; but as soon as the Russian passport con' 
 troller, with his three gendarmes, left the car and the train began 
 to move, they began to look happier. When we stopped for an 
 hour at Eydkuhnen, on the German side of the border, everybody 
 spent money at the railroad station on drinks, coffee, tea and 
 cigars, tipping freely, right and left. They acted as if they had 
 just been freed from prison. Some of them shook hands and con' 
 gratulated one another, and all thanked God to be rid of Russia 
 and be free men. 
 
 On the way to Koenigsberg, I sat next to a Jewish man of about 
 fifty years, who made a very good impression on me. He wore 
 fine clothes and was stately and good looking, with a well combed 
 beard which was most becoming, and his entire appearance and 
 demeanor indicated intelligence and refinement. 
 
 I looked at him, and he looked at me, but I dared not speak to 
 him. After about an hour, however, he asked me who I was and 
 where I was going. I was delighted at the chance to converse 
 with such a dignified'appearing person, and told him everything. 
 The more we talked, the greater was the confidence I reposed in 
 him, especially when he told me he knew my father. Little by 
 little he became more friendly, even offering me some fruit which 
 he had with him, and I felt I was lucky to have found such a fine 
 gentleman to advise me what to do when I got to Koenigsberg. 
 
 I asked him what chance there was for me to find employment 
 in that city, and to my consternation, he replied that there was 
 practically none, since I was a stranger and did not know how to 
 write or speak the German language. This was a great shock to 
 me, and ended our conversation for the time being. 
 
 About a half hour later, he suddenly asked me how much 
 money I had with me. I did not like the question, nor the harsh 
 way in which it was put, and hesitated to reply. 
 
 "Oh," he said, "you have nothing at all. Well, if that is the 
 case, I will give you a few marks to help you along for a while." 
 
JACOB HORWICH, Father of the Auth 
 

STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 81 
 
 And there he caught me, for I at once replied: "Oh, thank 
 you very much, but I don't need your money. I can get along 
 for a while with the money I have." 
 
 "Oh, well," he returned, "that's all right. And how much 
 have you?" 
 
 "Over a hundred roubles," I told him. I had, in fact, two 
 hundred roubles and twenty-five German marks, but I thought I 
 would be cautious and not tell him the true amount. 
 
 Our conversation ceased again for a while. He fell asleep, or 
 pretended to be sleeping, for quite a time. When he awoke, he 
 spoke up again, and told me that he might have something for me 
 to do; that I should come to see him two days after we reached 
 Koenigsberg. He wrote down his name and address for me. His 
 name I still remember. It was "Ishroel" Feldman, and I called 
 him Reb Ishroel. 
 
 We arrived in Koenigsberg early in the morning, and Reb 
 Ishroel bade me goodbye, giving me an address where he said I 
 could get board and lodging very reasonably. I did not go to the 
 place he recommended, however, for my father had given me the 
 address of another person, to whom I went instead. I devoted two 
 days to sightseeing, and during that time incidentally obtained 
 some information about Reb Ishroel. I met some people who knew 
 him, and they told me he dealt in all kinds of sacks, especially old 
 or used grain sacks. As to his honesty, however, I could discover 
 nothing. 
 
 But Reb Ishroel was for the time being a secondary interest, 
 as my entire attention was focused on the city and its people. 
 The streets were clean, and the inhabitants well-dressed, "holi- 
 day-looking," and nice. The police were courteous, and no one 
 interfered with me. I asked my way of men and women, and even 
 of policemen, and received much better treatment than I was 
 accustomed to. I was not afraid of being asked for a passport, or 
 questioned as to my identity, as had been the case in Kovno. 
 
82 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I. did not try to dodge men in uniform. On the contrary, I liked 
 to look at them, with their fine uniforms and shining helmets. 
 I thought they were lovely. I came across East-European Jews, 
 with beards and long garments, selling grain and exchanging 
 money — all busy and happy and free. It was a new and beautiful 
 world to me. I fell in love with everything and everybody. 
 
 After having satisfied myself that I was safe here, and in no 
 danger of being molested by anyone, I went to see Reb Ishroel. 
 I found that he was boarding with a respectable-appearing family, 
 who had lived in Koenigsberg for many years and were quite 
 Germanised. I was told that Herr Feldman expected me and had 
 left word for me to wait, and in about twenty minutes he came 
 in and greeted me cordially. 
 
 He asked me to accompany him, and on the way explained 
 that he had an order for a large number of grain sacks from a 
 certain concern, and was now going to buy up the sacks from 
 various grain dealers. He would like me, he said, to go with him, 
 learn the business and get a start in life. Casually, he remarked 
 that if I wanted to invest my hundred roubles (equivalent to two 
 hundred marks in German money) with him in that deal, I would 
 be entitled to a profit in proportion to my investment. I was 
 silent, not knowing what to say at the moment, and he soon 
 asked me what I thought of it. I told him that I would have to 
 write to my father first, and get his advice. 
 
 "Oh, you foolish boy," he said laughingly, "this is Germany, 
 not Poniemon. Business has to be done right now and not wait 
 for weeks. It has to be done today or not at all/'' 
 
 "Very well," I answered, "let us go. At least, let us see the 
 firm where you buy and see what it is." 
 
 In a few minutes, we entered an office, where he was greeted 
 as Herr Feldman, and started to talk about buying and selling 
 sacks. We all went down to the basement where the sacks were 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 83 
 
 stored, and a deal was made for fifteen thousand sacks at twenty 
 pfennigs (or about five cents) per sack, as they ran. 
 
 "AH right," I said. "I will invest seventy-five roubles, as I 
 want to keep some money for myself to live on." 
 
 "Fine," he said. "You are a smart and careful lad. You will 
 make money with me." 
 
 When I took out the seventy-five roubles, he started to grab 
 them, but I made a quick move and laid the money down on a 
 desk at which a girl sat, and asked how many marks I could get 
 for them. Reb Ishroel did not like this, and again remarked: 
 "Remember, this is not Poniemon." 
 
 The girl informed me that a rouble was worth two marks and 
 ten pfennigs. She took the money, and my partner kept on talking 
 for a while, and then he said to me, "Let us go down to the base- 
 ment again." 
 
 He explained that the sacks, which were lying in a big pile, 
 had to be sorted and smoothed out, and laid straight in bundles 
 of two hundred to a bundle; that we would have to hire a man 
 to do this, which would cost about twenty marks, but if I thought 
 I could do it, then I could make the twenty marks in addition to 
 my share of the profits. I gladly accepted the offer, and on the 
 same day, after I had written home about my good luck, I started 
 to work with all the skill and energy I could muster. In three 
 days I had everything in tiptop shape. Herr Feldman came in 
 often to watch me work, and praised me to heaven. 
 
 When I was through with this arduous and dusty work, I 
 bought myself a stylish second-hand suit, and again went out to 
 see the sights. I looked around for a teacher who would instruct 
 me in German, and found an Herr Schneider, who conducted a 
 sort of private school for fifteen boys, charging each fifty pfennigs 
 (about thirteen cents) a lesson. 
 
 Then, two days later, I went back to see my partner, but I did 
 not find him in. I went again and again, but could not get hold 
 
84 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 of him. When I went to the place where the sacks had been 
 stored, I found that they were all gone. I inquired at the office, 
 but all they could tell me was that Herr Feldman had paid for the 
 sacks and had taken them away. I tried to tell them that I had 
 money invested in the deal, but they showed no interest and were 
 not inclined to listen. It was a German firm, with each one attend' 
 ing strictly to his own business. I saw that they could help me 
 very little, and turned to leave, but was called back by the girl 
 who had taken my roubles. I told her my story, and she assured 
 me that I would get every pfennig that was coming to me from 
 Herr Feldman, if I could locate him. 
 
 I finally watched his house for six hours, one day, until he 
 appeared. We had a long discussion, during which he gave me 
 excuses and arguments, saying that I had not given him the 
 money but had given it to the concern; that we were not partners 
 on this one deal alone, but on other deals to come, and that I 
 should write to my father for more money — that at the present 
 time he could do nothing for me. 
 
 To my painful sorrow, I at last awoke to the realisation that 
 Reb Ishroel was a high-grade crook. I cried, begged and swore, 
 but to no avail. I was ordered from the house. 
 
 This scoundrel robbed me not only of my money and pay for 
 three days of hard work, but of my courage, my happiness and 
 my confidence in the future. On my way home, the streets and 
 the people did not look half so good as they had before. I slept 
 hardly a wink that night, and the next morning I went again to 
 the office where my seventyfive roubles had been taken. 
 
 I told the Fraulein about the conversation I had had with Herr 
 Feldman, but of course, she could not help me very much. How 
 ever, she advised me to go to the criminal court, and wrote a few 
 lines to an uncle of hers who was an official there, asking him to 
 listen to my story. An hour later, I was in the court and talking 
 with Herr Knoegel, the clerk who received complaints of a crim' 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 85 
 
 inal nature. When I mentioned the name, Feldman, he said he 
 had heard that name before. He wrote down every word I said, 
 and instructed me to come back in three days. 
 
 I then did something in which I probably did not use the best 
 judgment. I went from the criminal court to the house where Reb 
 Ishroel stayed, and told the people that my swindling partner 
 would have to answer in the criminal court for cheating me out 
 of my money. At first, they would not believe this, and wondered 
 how it was possible for a young c 'greeny' ' like me, only a few 
 days in the country, to find the criminal court and know what 
 to do. However, I convinced them. 
 
 I learned later that two detectives visited the house on that 
 day and the day after, but could not find the culprit. On the third 
 day, when I went back to see Herr Knoegel, I was informed that 
 Herr Feldman had left the city, but that if he ever showed up 
 again, he would be arrested. 
 
 That was the end of my first business venture, and the end of 
 my seventy-five roubles. To my knowledge, Reb Ishroel never 
 showed up in Koenigsberg again. 
 
 For several days after this unfortunate experience, I walked 
 around half dased, discouraged and disappointed. It was not the 
 loss of the money that troubled me so much as the fact that we 
 had such scoundrels and hypocrites among our people, and that I 
 was foolish enough to permit myself to be cheated out of half 
 of my capital. 
 
 In my despair, I decided to go again to the concern where we 
 had made the transaction. There the young lady who had pre- 
 viously taken care of me, introduced me to a man by the name 
 of Lipper, the manager of the firm, and I was surprised to learn 
 that he was Jewish. He listened patiently to my story, and seeing 
 my dilemma, was very sympathetic and kindly. 
 
 When I had finished talking, he advised me, as a good friend 
 would, not to worry too much, but to keep up my courage; and 
 
86 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 he repeated the old saying: "If you have lost money, you have 
 lost nothing; but if you have lost courage, you have lost every- 
 thing/ ' He advised me emphatically to forget about my unpleas- 
 ant experience, and promised to help me in the future if ever it 
 would be possible for him to do so. 
 
 The fine treatment and the encouragement I received from 
 Mr. Lipper did me a great deal of good, and in a few days I 
 recovered from my disappointment and started to get busy again. 
 
 The first thing I decided upon was to move from the place 
 where I lived. It was in the nature of a rooming house combined 
 with a restaurant, which is called in German "garkiche," and 
 was owned by a man named Lemkind. It was a small place, and 
 was run by the husband, wife and daughter. They catered only 
 to Jews and the food was all "kosher." 
 
 There were at the time only three guests besides myself — a 
 young man and his parents. The mother had come to seek a cure 
 from a Dr. Burro, then the most prominent physician in Germany 
 and the surrounding countries, and her husband and son had 
 accompanied her. They occupied the two rooms that were for 
 rent, so I had to sleep on the floor. For this I paid, with meals, 
 eight marks, or two dollars, a day. 
 
 I did not feel very comfortable there, first, because of the 
 expense, which I knew I could not afford for very long; and 
 second, because the young man who was there with his parents 
 behaved in a very snobbish manner towards everyone, especially 
 me, by reason of the fact that he was a student in a Russian High 
 School. In those days, anyone who attended a Russian High 
 School was considered quite an aristocrat, and looked down on 
 everybody, and this young man, seeing a poor youngster like 
 me around, delighted in making me feel miserable. 
 
 However, I had my revenge one day, when I overheard a con- 
 versation between him and his father about his studies. The latter 
 insisted that his son should prepare his lessons on that day, but 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 87 
 
 the young student wanted to put off his studying to the next day. 
 I then spoke up, quoting a Russian writer, who had said: "To- 
 morrow, tomorrow, not today, is the talk of the laz;y man." 
 
 The student felt insulted and was furious. Pearl, the daughter 
 of the owner of the rooming house, happened to be present, and 
 she burst into laughter at his discomfiture. She also bore him a 
 grudge, because instead of calling her Miss Pearl, he called her 
 Perke, which name was generally used in addressing servant girls. 
 
 When Pearl, who was always friendly to me, later asked me 
 how long I intended to stay, I explained to her that my money 
 would not last much longer, and I would, therefore, have to move. 
 She advised me to wait a few days and told me that she would 
 speak to a German woman who came to the house twice a week 
 to clean, asking her to give me a room in her house for one mark 
 (twenty-four cents) a day, including breakfast. Pearl suggested 
 that I come to her father's place for my other meals, which would 
 not cost me more than about two marks a day, and thus my living 
 expenses would amount to only seventy-five cents a day instead 
 of two dollars. 
 
 Pearl, who was a few years older than I, was a very attractive 
 girl, with black eyes and long dark hair. I knew that she liked 
 me and wanted to help me, so I took her advice, and a few days 
 later moved to the house of the scrubwoman, whose name was 
 Frau Zeikin. 
 
 I had an experience when I came to this new place which 
 impressed me so strongly that I have told the story many, many 
 times. Frau Zeikin had two rooms — one large room which served 
 as kitchen, dining room and sitting room and also contained a 
 bed, and another which served as a bedroom for herself and her 
 daughter. She was a widow, her husband having been killed in 
 the war. 
 
 I was to occupy the bed in the first room, the space where it 
 stood being partitioned off from the rest of the room with a 
 
88 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 screen. When I moved in, it was rather late in the evening, and 
 I found the bed made ready. It was nice and clean, and I slept 
 very well. 
 
 About five o'clock in the morning, I heard someone removing 
 my clothes from the chair near the bed. I was immediately con- 
 cerned about the money in my trousers pocket, although I had 
 most of my money under the pillow. I could not determine 
 whether it was the mother or the daughter who was taking my 
 clothes, but being by nature rather timid with strangers, especi' 
 ally women, I said nothing, and waited. A half hour passed, and 
 I was in agony and began bewailing my fate — that I was being 
 robbed right and left. Then the woman returned and put my 
 clothes back on the chair. When she left, I grabbed for my 
 trousers, and was relieved to find my money and other articles 
 intact. Nothing had been taken, and I went back to bed, wonder- 
 ing what it was all about. 
 
 About an hour and a half later the woman brought my coffee 
 to me in bed, as was the custom at that time in Germany, and 
 told me that she had taken my clothes out to brush them. She 
 had found two buttons were needed, and she had also shined my 
 shoes. Well, that made me so happy, I forgot my troubles, and I 
 remained with these people for several months. 
 
 In the meantime, I secured a job, through Mr. Lipper, with a 
 concern by the name of Ernst Castell and Company. My work 
 was to shovel grain, chiefly wheat, from one place to another. 
 This was done in order to air the grain occasionally, so that it 
 would not get spoiled, and so that the dust might be removed, 
 which was effected by means of a draft from the open windows 
 on each side of the warehouse. It was hard, dusty and un- 
 heal thful work. 
 
 Altogether, we were five men on that floor, and we had to 
 protect our heads and faces from the dust by covering them with 
 burlap sacks. When I later saw for the first time a picture of a 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 89 
 
 man with a gas mask, I commented to a friend that that was the 
 way I had looked when I was fourteen years old. Our hours were 
 from seven o'clock in the morning until six in the evening, with 
 one hour off for lunch. 
 
 After four months on this job, I was told one morning to take 
 my shovel, which I had had to buy, and go outside, as a strike 
 had been declared. At that time, I did not know what that meant. 
 They called it a "streekie." 
 
 The strike affected the entire warehouse, which contained about 
 five floors and employed about seventy-five men. All of these men 
 stood outside for five hours, with their various implements on 
 their shoulders, like soldiers, until the police came and ordered 
 us either to go home or go to work; otherwise, we would be 
 arrested. I took my shovel and left, giving up the job. 
 
 I was out of work for several weeks, and then went to see Mr. 
 Lipper again. He got me another job, this time with the concern 
 of Bear and Beumelberg. There my work was to carry sacks of 
 grain from one floor to another, sometimes up and sometimes 
 down. The place had five floors, and on each floor a man stood 
 to help me lift the sacks on my shoulders, and to take them off. In 
 a way, this work was not as bad as shoveling grain, being less 
 dusty and dirty, but it was very hard. Some of the sacks weighed 
 more than I did, and quite often my colleagues whose duty it was 
 to lift the sacks onto my shoulders thought it great fun to drop 
 them heavily, instead of putting them down carefully. For a 
 while I did not say anything, and tried to laugh it off, but it soon 
 became unbearable. 
 
 One forenoon, when they set a sack of rye on my shoulders 
 with such force that I stumbled and nearly fell with the weight 
 on me, I addressed the men in the following words, which I 
 remember distinctly: 
 
 "Fellow workmen, if you think that I am not good enough to 
 work with you, because of my looks or anything else, please tell 
 
90 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 me so, and I will say goodbye and leave you, and even treat you 
 to beer for giving me an excuse to be away from such hard and 
 terrible work. But if you don't have any objection to my working 
 with you, then please treat me like one of yourselves, and re' 
 member that you are much older, stronger and healthier looking 
 than I, and I cannot stand these jokes that you play on me any 
 longer." 
 
 For fear that they might be offended, I added, "Of course, 
 I know that you, as Germans and intelligent people, do not mean 
 to hurt me, but you are going too far, so please don't do it." 
 
 This little talk, although given in broken German, made a 
 distinct impression on these sturdy Dutchmen. One of them 
 grasped my hand and said: 
 
 "My boy, you are right. I didn't like it, and I told them so. 
 We are all going pretty soon to lunch. If you will spend the 
 money on beer for staying instead of leaving us, we will all drink 
 to your health. 1 ' 
 
 Fifteen minutes later, when the noon whistle blew, we all went 
 across the street to a saloon, which was called in Germany, 
 "kneipe," and I spent a mark on beer. My fellow workers were 
 thereafter my best friends for the three months I remained. 
 
 I had to leave because my legs started to swell and pained me 
 so that I could hardly walk. A doctor told me that I must give 
 up the work, as trudging up and down the stairs all day, with a 
 heavy weight on my shoulders, was too hard for my constitution, 
 and I might become crippled permanently if I continued. 
 
 My greatest ambition, next to making a living, was to learn 
 the German language well. The lessons I had started to take from 
 Herr Schneider did not last long. Our Herr Lehrer (which means 
 "teacher"), was very fond of "schnapps," and the more he drank, 
 the more he wanted. Of course, his excessive drinking did not 
 harmonise very well with his teaching. When we boys refused 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 91 
 
 to pay in advance, he would refuse to teach, and when we did 
 pay in advance, he would immediately order a bottle of whiskey 
 and would drink more than was good for him. When he was 
 drunk, we could not stand him, and when he was sober, he could 
 not stand us. There were, therefore, always arguments and 
 trouble. 
 
 After taking about six lessons, I had to give it up, and started 
 to study by myself. I bought a beginner's book, and studied 
 evenings and on Saturdays and Sundays. Little by little, I 
 acquired enough of the German language to be able to speak and 
 read fairly well, and also write a little, and was on the way of 
 becoming quite "Germanized. " 
 
 During this period, I had for the first time the exciting exper- 
 ience of attending a theater. I went to see Schiller's "Rauber", 
 given in German, and was overjoyed when I found I could under- 
 stand most of the play. 
 
 In order to obtain an easier job than I had had before, I realised 
 it would be better to mingle more with Jewish business men than 
 with German working men. I accordingly moved from Frau 
 Zeikin's home, and secured room and board with a Jewish family 
 by the name of Lipstadt. 
 
 Mr. Samuel Lipstadt recommended me to several Jewish busi- 
 ness houses, and I finally found employment with a firm called 
 Wolf Semohan. My work here was to copy letters, carry around 
 small grain samples to various concerns, keep the office clean and 
 run all kinds of errands. This was comparatively easy. My salary 
 was nine marks a week, which was little more than the amount 
 I had to pay Mr. Lipstadt for room and board, but as I still had 
 some savings, I managed fairly well. 
 
 My employer, however, was a terrible man to get along with. 
 He was an old man, with a long beard, dirty, very cranky and 
 sickly, and it seemed that the only relief he could find was to vent 
 his anger on those around him. He never uttered a good word, 
 
92 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 and he was always looking for faults. I stuck it out for a whole 
 winter, but when one day he threw an ink bottle at me, spilling 
 all the ink on my face, I felt I had had enough. I overturned the 
 writing desk where I had been copying letters, breaking some 
 glasses that were standing there, and went away. A few days 
 later, I received my week's pay of nine marks, with the suggestion 
 that I come back, but I refused to return. 
 
 After looking for weeks for another job without success, how- 
 ever, I went back to see the old man, but it was then too late, 
 as he had employed someone else. I was now in a serious plight. 
 My money was gone, and I could not write to my parents. Mrs. 
 Lipstadt gave me notice that she would not keep me much longer 
 unless I paid my board, and I walked around the streets without 
 money and without food for days. 
 
 I remember one morning passing by a bakery store. I went 
 inside and told the proprietor that I would do any kind of work 
 for a loaf of bread. He called me into the yard and showed me a 
 pile of wood, which he wanted carried into the cellar, and for this 
 he would give me half a loaf. I agreed, but asked him to give me 
 part of the bread at once. He refused. But after I had worked for 
 half an hour, a woman came out with some bread and coffee. 
 This was the first food I had had in a day and a half. 
 
 When I finished the task, I was given my half loaf of bread, 
 as promised, and twenty pfennigs in cash besides. I always re 
 member this episode as one of the most wretched experiences of 
 my youth. Besides the acute pangs of hunger which I suffered, 
 I felt humiliated that I should have been reduced to the state 
 where I had to beg for bread. 
 
 Two days afterward, I obtained a position with a concern by 
 the name of E. Rosenberg and Son. My remuneration was six 
 marks a week, plus breakfast and a place to sleep. My duties were 
 similar to those with Mr. SemoUan. Mr. Lipstadt was employed 
 by this same firm, with whom I remained for almost two years. 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 93 
 
 There I learned to know grain, learning about the quality, the 
 price, the places where the grain came from and where it was 
 going, and so forth. 
 
 Both Mr. Rosenberg and his son, who comprised the firm, were 
 very fine people. The father, a Lithuanian who came from the 
 vicinity of my native town, belonged to the class known as the 
 Russian intelligentsia, and knew Hebrew, Russian and German. 
 Though he observed all of the laws pertaining to the Jewish re' 
 ligion, he was not a fanatic. He represented a great many grain 
 dealers in Russia, who would ship the grain to him to sell, on a 
 commission basis, and was known as one of the foremost men in 
 this line. He had an office staff of six people. 
 
 Mr. Rosenberg was a man of very few words, and did not 
 speak unless it was absolutely necessary. After I had been with 
 him a week, it happened one morning that the cabman who 
 brought him to the office was not satisfied with the tip he had 
 received. He stood on the sidewalk in front of the office, yelling 
 that Mr. Rosenberg was a "cheap Jew," and using other strong, 
 offensive language. Mr. Rosenberg was sitting at his desk, reading 
 the mail, which I opened for him, and when I called his attention 
 to the insulting language of the cabman, he said to me without 
 turning his head, "Throw him out." 
 
 "But," I replied, "he is outside already." 
 
 "Well, then," Mr. Rosenberg said, "call him into the office, 
 and then throw him out." 
 
 Whenever he had anything to say to me, he would never turn 
 his head towards me, but would simply give me instructions while 
 looking at the work on his desk. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Since Hitler has come into power, Germany has come to be 
 known as the most terrible country in the world. Most people, 
 especially Jews, shudder when it is mentioned. But the Germany 
 I knew as a youth can no more be compared with the Germany 
 
94 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 of today than one can compare a bright, fresh, sunny day in May 
 with a cold, dark, stormy night in December. 
 
 Germany then was a country of law and order and justice. The 
 Jews who lived there enjoyed in every respect equal rights with 
 the Germans. The only complaint that some Jews made with re- 
 gard to equality was that the Junkers objected to Jewish officers 
 in the army, and very few Jews could attain the rank of an officer. 
 
 During the years of my stay, the country was very prosperous, 
 and Koenigsberg was a thriving city. It was the receiving station, 
 or clearing center, for all grains coming from the eastern coun- 
 tries, especially Russia. The grain dealers in Russia would buy up 
 various grains, such as wheat, rye, oats, and so forth, and ship 
 them to Koenigsberg, where they had representatives, called 
 "commissioners." These men would sell the grain on the Board 
 of Trade to German concerns, in Germany, who in turn would 
 sell it to countries in many parts of the world. The "commis- 
 sioners," as a rule, were Jews, coming from Russia, Poland, 
 Galicia and Roumania. 
 
 One could see daily, on the streets of this German city, 
 Koenigsberg, Jews of all types, some with long beards and long 
 garments, and with funny looking caps, doing business on the 
 Board of Trade with large German concerns. They walked the 
 streets as freely and proudly and confidently as any German. 
 
 In the five years I was there, I saw only one incident where 
 there was trouble between Jew and German. A Jew named Benja- 
 min Slack, a little fellow with a very long beard, was accosted by 
 a big German ruffian while walking along the street. The man 
 stopped the Jew, lifted his beard at the end, and said to him: 
 "You little Jew, you have to be careful not to step on your beard, 
 for you are likely to tear your head off." 
 
 I considered it a joke and laughed, but not that little fellow. 
 He grabbed hold of the big, husky German and started to yell, 
 "Police!" and did not let go until a policeman came. In great 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 95 
 
 anger, Benjamin waved his arms in the air and said, "This ruffian 
 insulted me and attacked me." But the German laughed and said 
 to the policeman, "I just told him in fun to pack his long beard 
 up, as he is likely to get entangled and be hurt." 
 
 At that moment, another German, apparently a responsible 
 business man, came over from across the street, and told the 
 policeman that the Jew was telling the truth. The result was, as I 
 later found out, that this attack cost the German five days in 
 prison. He had the privilege of paying this penalty on five Sun- 
 days; that is, every Sunday for five weeks he had to come and 
 stay in prison for the day, so as not to lose any of his working 
 days. 
 
 This little incident is one of many I could relate to show how 
 very different life in Germany was for Jews then from what it is 
 now. 
 
 When I had been with the Rosenberg concern for a few 
 months, my employer informed me that from now on I would 
 have additional duties to perform. Every morning I would have 
 to be on the freight tracks, where the cars of grain came in, in- 
 spect the grain, take samples of it, and supervise the receiving 
 of these grains by the buyer. My salary was doubled. 
 
 At the beginning, I found it a rather difficult job. The tracks 
 were always filled with carloads of incoming grain, and on some 
 days there was not room enough on the tracks for the hundreds 
 of cars that had come in during the night. In a short time, how- 
 ever, I became accustomed to the work, and did it well. 
 
 I often had as many as thirty cars to take care of at a time, 
 and it came to be that the more cars there were, the better 
 I liked it. I mingled with the representatives of the buyers and 
 
96 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 sellers of the grain, and learned to understand the various kinds 
 and qualities. I hoped that some day I would be "somebody" in 
 the grain business. 
 
 What I liked most was the hiring of help, whom we employed 
 to sew up or fasten the sacks of grain that looked weak. Certain 
 places in the various districts of the city were assigned for 
 workers to assemble, and there they could be found by anyone 
 who needed them. The workers would sit on long benches, wait' 
 ing to sell their labor to anyone who wanted to hire them. About 
 fifty or seventy-five men and women would assemble every morn- 
 ing on the vacant square of my district. When someone came to 
 the square to engage help, all present would stand in line, so that 
 he could make his choice. I was in the habit of selecting young 
 men or women, because they could work better and faster than 
 the older ones; but soon had occasion to change my policy. 
 
 One morning, while I was on my way to hire seven or eight 
 workers, I was stopped about a block from the square by an 
 elderly, motherly looking woman. She asked me very politely if 
 she was intruding by speaking to me. I answered, "Of course not, 
 Mutterchen (which means "dear little mother"). I shall be glad 
 to listen to anything you have to say." 
 
 She thanked me profusely, and grabbed hold of my hand, 
 addressing me as "my dear young merchant." 
 
 "I notice," she said, "you are always hiring boys and girls to 
 work for you, and I cannot blame you for that. But we older 
 people also have to live. Just think of your own mother, and how 
 miserable she would be, if she were poor and in need of food for 
 her two school children and herself, and if she had to sit around 
 here for hours, wishing for somebody to give her some work. 
 Moreover," she added, "I will prove to you that I can work just 
 as well and just as fast as the young people do." 
 
 She looked straight at me with tearful eyes, and begged, 
 "Please hire me for today, and you will see how well I can work." 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 97 
 
 The poor woman nearly broke my heart. I couldn't answer her. 
 I just nodded my head, patted her on the shoulders, and pointed 
 to the square, indicating that she should wait for me there. From 
 then on, I always selected more of the older people than the young 
 ones. Frau Egbert, the woman who had spoken to me, I hired 
 every day until I left the employ of Mr. Rosenberg. 
 
 I remember writing to my father at this time, describing the 
 scene with great pride and informing him of the progress I had 
 made in a short time, boasting that I was now a real business man, 
 hiring help. I took youthful pleasure in relating how the German 
 men and women would wait anxiously for me to give them work. 
 
 Among the people with whom I became acquainted during my 
 first few months in this work was a man by the name of Leib 
 Shaaf, who had come from Riga to Koenigsberg many years 
 before. He had started out as an expressman, and his work was 
 chiefly to take the waste grain that had spilled out of the sacks 
 onto the floors of the freight cars to the warehouses of the owners, 
 who would sell this grain at a low price to farmers for cattle food. 
 
 After a while, he caught on to the business, and instead of 
 working as an expressman, merely hauling the waste grain, he 
 started to buy it up himself, and in that way eventually became 
 a grain dealer. 
 
 Mr. Shaaf could not read or write, and he often asked me to 
 read and write Jewish letters for him, and to write addresses. 
 Thus we became well acquainted. Gradually it dawned on me 
 that his was a good and easy type of business. It did not require 
 much money to operate, and it was just the sort of thing I ought 
 to be able to handle. 
 
 I carried this idea in my mind for many months, and finally 
 confided it to a young friend of mine, by the name of Max Perl- 
 man, who boarded at the same place I did. He was engaged in 
 work similar to mine, for another concern, and made fourteen 
 marks a week, of which he saved about one-half. 
 
98 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 We spoke about the project very often, and finally agreed on 
 the following plan: He was to continue working, while I would 
 give up my job. With the money that he had saved, which com' 
 prised several hundred marks, and an equal amount which I was 
 to borrow from my employer, Mr. Rosenberg, I was to start the 
 business, buying up the waste grain, cleaning it and getting it in 
 proper shape, and then selling it. The plan worked very well. 
 
 I rented a little place, and the first purchase I made was from 
 Mr. Rosenberg, making a nice profit on the deal. Then I went to 
 see my old friend, Mr. Lipper, and bought grain sacks from him, 
 and on this I also made a profit. It was enough to more than make 
 up for the loss I had previously suffered through Herr Feldman. 
 
 Within a year, Perlman gave up his job, and we formed the 
 partnership of Horwich and Perlman. However, because he had 
 invested the first two hundred marks, he insisted that his name 
 come first, and the firm name was accordingly changed to Perlman 
 and Horwich. At that time I was about seventeen years old, and 
 Perlman was about the same age. 
 
 Young Perlman was a type of person who couldn't be found 
 among thousands. He had a capacity for working from five in the 
 morning until twelve o'clock at night. He had a marvelous mind, 
 knew the grain business from A to Z, and was as honest as the 
 day is long. Yet he was one of the queerest and most stubborn 
 and selfish individuals with whom I have ever come in contact. 
 When he once made up his mind, yes or no, no one could budge 
 him. Before I got used to him, and found out how to get along 
 with him, we had almost continual quarrels about one thing or 
 another. 
 
 Although very young, he was a religious fanatic. He would not 
 let me go to our place of business on Saturday, and in order to 
 be sure I didn't, he would nail up the door and barricade it, so 
 that I could not get in. For a time we lived together in one room 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 99 
 
 and ate many of our meals together, but I finally had to give this 
 up, because of his fanaticism. 
 
 Our business increased and succeeded to such an extent that 
 we began to buy grain on the Board of Trade in carload lots, and 
 were considered as grain dealers. We could have been very suc- 
 cessful in this venture, as we were now fairly well established 
 and understood the business, and our firm was registered with the 
 smaller class of grain dealers. But my partner proved impossible 
 to get along with. 
 
 He insisted on having his way in every respect. He wanted to 
 do the buying, the selling, the handling of the money, the book- 
 keeping, the correspondence, and everything else. Of course, this 
 led to arguments and friction. The selling of the grain was the 
 easiest part of our business. The most difficult part was buying 
 the grain, and buying it at the right price. I proposed many times 
 that we should divide the two branches, one doing the buying 
 and the other the selling, but he refused to do this. Moreover, he 
 insisted that if I bought anything without his approval, he would 
 consider himself a partner to the deal only if there was a profit; 
 that if my buying should result in losses, I would have to stand 
 it all. While I resented this attitude greatly, it did not affect me 
 very much, as I kept on buying and managed to show a profit on 
 every purchase. 
 
 Then an unusual incident occurred. A ship carrying a load of 
 loose wheat developed a bad leak on the way to Koenigsberg, and 
 after pulling up to the river dock on the side of a grain ware- 
 house, it sank, and was found one morning submerged. The whole 
 cargo was covered with water and soaked through, and a good 
 part of it was puffed up and almost worthless. 
 
 I found out about it, and got busy. I obtained samples of the 
 wheat, which I dried in the same bakery shop where I had once 
 earned half a loaf of bread by carrying a big pile of wood into 
 the basement. After drying the grain slowly off and on for 
 
100 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 eighteen hours, I found that it could be used for feeding hogs; in 
 fact, it would make excellent fodder. 
 
 The whole shipment could be purchased for an extremely low 
 price, but the main expense involved would be in unloading and 
 drying it. In those days, there were no artificial drying machines, 
 and after making all kinds of inquiries and investigations, I found 
 that the wheat would have to be dried outdoors, in the sun. 
 
 The shipment contained about twenty-five thousand bushels. 
 According to my calculations, if everything went right, there 
 would be a profit of nearly thirty-five thousand marks, which in 
 those days was quite a fortune. 
 
 My partner, as usual, told me to do as I pleased. He did not 
 want to attempt it, and would not risk any of his money in the 
 venture. But if I went through with it myself and invested what- 
 ever money I had in the business, and succeeded, he would claim 
 some part of the profit. Of course, this was unfair and unreason- 
 able, but he would not argue and could not be convinced. It was 
 a question of take it or leave it. 
 
 I could not handle the deal myself under any circumstances. 
 Even if we used all the money we had together in the business, 
 I would not be able to swing it. I, therefore, went to see my 
 friend, Mr. Shaaf, and he recommended a man who would put 
 up the necessary money. However, I would also have to invest 
 most of what I had in the partnership with Perlman. I agreed 
 to do this, the necessary arrangements were made, and we went 
 to work. 
 
 I rented about half a mile of vacant land, a short ride from 
 the city. This was during the month of July. We unloaded the 
 wheat and spread it on canvasses all over the ground, and engaged 
 ten men to keep turning the grain continually. Every day, and 
 almost every hour of the day, we watched the sky. The hot July 
 sun kept drying the wheat better and better. We figured that in 
 two or three days more we would be able to move the wheat into 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 101 
 
 a warehouse, and our fortune would be made. Everything looked 
 rosy, and I began to consider myself a rich young man. 
 
 But, alas! Something terrible happened. Just two days before 
 the drying process would have been completed, a rainstorm 
 poured down with such force that the wheat was completely 
 soaked and spoiled beyond recovery, and I was ruined. We 
 realised too late our mistake in not preparing complete coverings 
 for such an emergency. 
 
 Perlman sympathised with my loss, but he felt that since I had 
 taken out almost my entire investment from the business, he 
 could not consider me a partner any longer, and there I was, 
 helpless and in despair. My anguish was even greater than that I 
 had experienced when I first came to Koenigsberg and had been 
 swindled out of half of my capital by Herr Feldman. 
 
 It happened that great military maneuvers involving over a 
 hundred thousand soldiers were then taking place at Koenigsberg, 
 in the fields around the city, and the population was in a holiday 
 mood. The old Kaiser, Wilhelm II, Crown Prince Frederick, 
 Chancellor Bismarck, Field Marshal Von Moltke, and most of the 
 nobility and aristocracy of Germany had come to the city for the 
 event. The excitement and thrill of beholding the "cream" of the 
 German people and mingling with the crowd like any German, 
 had such a cheering effect on me that it helped me forget half my 
 troubles. For many days I went to the fields where the maneuvers 
 were being performed, and saw the parades, demonstrations and 
 glitter of the uniforms, the cannon and all the other military 
 equipment. I was happy in the thought that I would have some 
 thing of importance to write home about, especially to my brother, 
 Harris, who knew well the history of Germany, and was informed 
 about its leaders. 
 
 My ex-partner, Max Perlman, had a brother, Robert, who was 
 in the retail grocery business, which was there called the "mate 
 rial" business, and he suggested that I go into partnership with 
 
102 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 him with the money I had left. His reason for this invitation was 
 that he could not attend to the business himself, and had to have 
 someone to help him. I accepted the proposition, and we went 
 into partnership. 
 
 However, I saw from the beginning that it could not last, 
 primarily because I was accustomed to doing business on a large 
 scale, dealing with the big business houses and being looked upon 
 as a "kaufman," or merchant. I had people working for me. I felt 
 proud when I saw a line of applicants standing in front of our 
 place every morning, inquiring whether we had any work for 
 them. People who knew me greeted me as "Herr Kaufman." But 
 now I was just a nobody, working in a small store, selling articles 
 for fifty pfennigs or a mark at a time. Besides, business was slow. 
 I decided to give it up, and in separating from the second Perl- 
 man, I lost some more of what I had left after the incident of 
 the shipload of spoiled wheat. 
 
 I realized I could blame no one but myself; but I concluded 
 that I would not be able to work myself up again in Koenigsberg, 
 and left for a smaller place by the name of Tilsit, not far from 
 the border of Russia. I knew a young man there by the name of 
 Werbel, who was born and raised in Tilsit, and was quite a nice 
 person. He worked for a concern that handled several different 
 items, including grain. 
 
 I told him that I still had a little money, and that if he had 
 some, we could go into partnership in the same line of business 
 he was in. He agreed to this, and two weeks later we had a little 
 warehouse, with an office, and began to do business. We handled 
 hides, skin, horse hair, metals, scrap iron and some grain. These 
 articles would be brought in for sale by the peasants around Tilsit 
 two or three times a week. We did not make a great deal of 
 money, but we made a very good living and managed to save. If 
 we had had a larger capital, we could have done very well. 
 
STARTING OUT IN THE WORLD 103 
 
 Whether business was good or bad, my spirits were high. I 
 lived in the home of a shoemaker, where I had a large room with 
 two windows, which was kept spic and span. Every morning the 
 daughter of the shoemaker, an intelligent and very good looking 
 girl, brought me fresh flowers and fine coffee. 
 
 * * * 
 
 While I was busy planning how to obtain more money to in- 
 crease our business, I was startled by an article in the morning 
 paper which served to alter the course of my life. Although I still 
 could not speak or write German well, I could read and under- 
 stand it almost perfectly, and read the Koenigsberg Daily every 
 morning at breakfast, thus keeping informed as to what was 
 going on. 
 
 One morning I read that the Government at Berlin had issued 
 an order concerning the influx of foreigners, especially Russians 
 and Poles, into Germany. The order stated that only certified and 
 recognised business men would be allowed to remain in the coun- 
 try. All others, who could not qualify as such, would have to 
 leave. Young men from eighteen to twenty-five years of age, 
 however, could remain, provided they became German subjects 
 and entered the service of the army at once. 
 
 I wrote to my ex-partner, asking him whether it would be 
 possible for me to join him again, or if not, to make arrangements 
 for some kind of combination between Koenigsberg and Tilsit, so 
 that he and I would not be affected by the new law. (Tilsit is 
 only about two hours 1 ride from Koenigsberg.) He answered me 
 promptly, stating tersely that, as far as he was concerned, he was 
 safe, and he was not interested in forming any kind of partnership 
 at that time. 
 
 I had meanwhile engaged a lawyer to inquire about my status, 
 and while he was investigating the matter, I received a letter 
 from my cousin, Wolf Horwich, from New York. Enclosed was 
 a steamship ticket from Tilsit to New York for his brother, 
 
104 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Yankel, who lived in a little village not far from Tilsit. I knew 
 about this Yankel, but did not have his address. I made inquiries, 
 and two days later, having learned where he lived, I visited him 
 and showed him the letter and the ticket for his passage to 
 New York. 
 
 Yankel was married and had two children, and was living very 
 comfortably, and so found it difficult to make up his mind about 
 going. He told me he would want to think it over for a few weeks 
 before deciding whether it would be advisable for him to give up 
 his place at home with his family, where he made a fair living, 
 to go to this far off America, which was an altogether different 
 world, strange and unknown. 
 
 Except for the fantastic tales of wealth to be acquired there, 
 very little was actually known about America. The exaggerated 
 stories we heard were based only upon the fact that all those 
 who emigrated to New York or America (these being synonymous 
 to the Europeans) were sending money to their relatives. 
 
 Three weeks later I received word from Yankel that he might 
 go in a year or two, but not at this time. In the meantime, I 
 was informed by my lawyer that he doubted whether I would be 
 able to remain in Germany very much longer. 
 
 It was then that I started to think about America, and began 
 to read whatever I could find about that country, so that I might 
 be better informed, should I decide to try my fortune there. 
 
 One of the names of importance I came across in my reading 
 was that of President Garfield, who had just been assassinated. At 
 that time I did not know the meaning of the word, "President," 
 or realise its significance — that he was the chief executive of the 
 country, comparable to the Kaiser in Germany, nor did I know 
 that he was elected by the people. I sought information about the 
 functions of the President and Vice-President, but was unable to 
 learn very much about these things until I came to New York. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 "THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 
 
 Although now barely eighteen years old, I was faced with the 
 serious problem of deciding my future course, myself. Should I 
 stay in Germany, which I loved with all my heart and soul, and 
 where I could somehow make a living and be respected, or ven' 
 ture out into a world unknown to me? After thinking about it 
 day and night for weeks, hesitant and uncertain, I finally made 
 up my mind to use my cousin's ticket and go to New York. 
 
 My reasoning, in deciding upon this important step, was some" 
 thing like this: Since Germany, although comparatively a tiny 
 country, provided so pleasant and comfortable a life for its in' 
 habitants, how much nicer must it be in the United States, which 
 was so very much larger and therefore undoubtedly presented 
 greater opportunities. The questions of liberty, equality and 
 democracy did not enter into my decision, for in Germany every 
 body seemed to be contented and happy — the people were nice, 
 the streets and houses clean and attractive, and there was no fear 
 of police or of Cossacks. All this was in decided contrast to the 
 conditions in Russia, where we were afraid of the police and of 
 the Cossacks and had to have passports all the time — where most 
 of the people were poor and miserable, and the streets muddy 
 and dirty. 
 
 I further reasoned that if when I arrived in the United States, 
 I was disappointed and things weren't as I had expected, I could 
 return to Germany, as I would have enough money left to enable 
 me to do so, and I could then serve in the German army for the 
 required eighteen months and become a full fledged German 
 citizen. Thus I would lose nothing by going, and the experience 
 I would gain in making the trip would be well worth the expense 
 involved. 
 
 105 
 
106 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 When I told my partner, Hirsh Werbel, of my decision to 
 withdraw from the business and leave for America, he was dumb- 
 founded. He pleaded with me, he argued, he cried — he used 
 every means possible to convince me that in a short time we 
 would build up a big business, and the firm of Horwich and 
 Werbel would be known in Koenigsberg as well as it was in 
 Tilsit. 
 
 But I would not give in, for I knew that my restless spirit 
 would not be satisfied until I went to New York, so that I could 
 decide for myself whether I belonged in America or in Germany. 
 Ten days later, with hundreds of other emigrants, I was on my 
 way to Hamburg. 
 
 There were special emigrant trains which left Eydkuhnen, on 
 the Russian frontier, and passed through Koenigsberg, on the way 
 to Hamburg, where we were to embark on ships taking us to 
 England. From there we were to sail for New York. 
 
 I boarded the train at Koenigsberg, our tickets allowing us 
 passage from Koenigsberg to New York. We were huddled into 
 eight or ten cars, traveling fourth class. The coaches were merely 
 huge boxes, with no seats and only a few windows for ventilation. 
 They closely resembled our cattle cars here. 
 
 My fellow travelers were indeed a sorry-looking lot. Most 
 of them possessed very little money, just barely enough for neces- 
 sary expenses. All, without exception, were raggedly attired and 
 unkempt. Sitting or sleeping on their piles of crude, dirty baggage, 
 they were indeed a miserable, poverty-stricken, bedraggled-looking 
 group of human beings. My appearance was novel to them, and 
 they regarded me with awe, for I was clean, well dressed, could 
 speak German, and looked, according to their standards, "aristo- 
 cratish." I sensed their respect and admiration. We soon became 
 acquainted, and each one confided his troubles to me, describing 
 the town he was leaving and telling about his relatives in the 
 United States. 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 107 
 
 It was not long before I was called upon to act as their leader, 
 and in this capacity found myself confronted with the problems 
 of a certain young couple traveling with us. They had been mar- 
 ried two days before they left, and depended upon two tickets 
 which were supposedly awaiting them at Koenigsberg. When 
 they found only one, they became greatly frightened, and I was 
 asked to decide which one of them should use the ticket. I advised 
 them to telegraph their relatives in America, but they would not 
 hear of that. In the first place, they could not spare the money, 
 and secondly, they were afraid it might implicate the young 
 husband, as he was leaving in order to evade military service. 
 They were very worried and persistent, and I tried another sug- 
 gestion. I advised that since a young man could always take care 
 of himself, it would be safer for the young man to make the trip 
 first. Then, with the aid of their relatives in New York, they 
 could somehow manage to bring the wife over. This advice they 
 accepted. 
 
 When we reached Hamburg, we were met by representatives 
 of an English steamship company, which had several agencies in 
 Russia and Poland, and one in Hamburg. Many of the emigrants 
 were bewildered and unable to make themselves understood, so I 
 had to do the talking for them. 
 
 We were taken to a large house, where we were shown an 
 array of tin dishes. On the wall was a large sign, instructing us 
 as to the kind of utensils we would need on the voyage, such as 
 drinking cups, knives, forks and plates, and the agent advised us 
 to purchase all these at a specified price. We were divided into 
 groups, and my group would not act without my consent. I was 
 not quick to take the agent's advice, and told him we would wait 
 until the morning to make our purchases. The next day I went 
 to look at the dishes again and found that our waiting was re- 
 warded, for the prices were a little cheaper. I knew it would be 
 easier for my friends to meet these lower prices. The agent was 
 
108 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 highly indignant and claimed that I and my friends were taking 
 advantage of him; but I insisted, and he very reluctantly agreed 
 to let us have the supplies at the reduced prices. 
 
 We stayed in Hamburg for two days, and I decided to stroll 
 about and look the city over by myself. However, that proved 
 harder than I thought, for I was constantly trailed by a flock of 
 my newlymade traveling friends, and I had to be very tactful in 
 evading them. But I did get around, and learned a good deal 
 about that great shipping port, which was extremely interesting 
 and informative, although the transportation and navigation in 
 those early "boom" days were nothing in comparison with our 
 present-day methods of commerce and travel. 
 
 On the third day, we were given orders to embark on an old 
 rusty4ooking little steamer, which would take us across the Eng' 
 lish Channel to Liverpool. We started at about eleven o'clock in 
 the morning. 
 
 That short trip was one of my most dreadful experiences. 
 Within two hours after sailing, everyone became violently ill. 
 The small boat see-sawed up and down, the strong waves beating 
 against its sides, and one by one the passengers keeled over and 
 had to be carried away. It became so rough that it was necessary 
 to stretch long ropes across the top deck to serve as hand'lines for 
 the sailors to grip. By nine o'clock that evening we had all 
 collapsed. 
 
 I can readily say, from that experience, that seasickness is one 
 of the worst illnesses that can befall a human being. Every fiber 
 in one's body is in agony. The physical and mental suffering is 
 intense, and one is indifferent to anything and everything, hoping 
 even that the boat will sink, just to get rid of that feeling. 
 
 It was pitiful to see the poor people sprawled out in anguish, 
 and heartbreaking to hear many of them pray for the boat to sink, 
 to relieve their torment, although it was humorous to hear them 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 109 
 
 curse Columbus for discovering America, and curse their rela' 
 tives for ever sending for them. 
 
 The sailors were very sympathetic, making frequent rounds to 
 see how we were getting along, trying to pacify us and assuring us 
 that it would soon end. 
 
 "Oh, yes," an old man near me yelled, "an end in a watery 
 grave. No one will even know what became of us." 
 
 At last the ordeal was over. We all survived, and landed in 
 Liverpool at ten o'clock the next morning. There we had to wait 
 eight days for a large steamer, named the "Egypt," to take us 
 across the Atlantic Ocean on the last lap of the trip to America. 
 
 Liverpool seemed a strange and unpleasant place to me. I did 
 not know a word of English, and being unable to speak to the 
 people, my only diversion was to wander through the streets, 
 and compare them with those of German cities. I must say the 
 comparison was very unfavorable. The houses looked black, old 
 and neglected, and the streets were narrow and filthy, like those 
 in Kovno, Russia. 
 
 One morning, when another young man and I were out for a 
 walk, we encountered two men engaged in a fist fight. This was 
 to me a very surprising spectacle, for in Germany to hit someone 
 with the fist was considered as bad an offense as striking with a 
 dangerous weapon. In fights I had witnessed in Germany, people 
 would slap or kick each other, attempt to overthrow the other, 
 or pull hair or tear their opponent's clothes, but did not use their 
 fists. This fight, therefore, appeared very serious to me. Here 
 were two men, with bleeding faces, punching each other as hard 
 as they could; and I thought I ought to do something to stop 
 them. I proceeded to try to separate them; but a woman nearby 
 very quickly pulled me away, admonishing me in a language I 
 could not understand. I later learned that she had warned that 
 if I interfered, both men would beat me up. Finally the fighting 
 stopped, and that same woman brought out a pail of water and a 
 
110 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 towel. After washing the blood from their faces, the men shook 
 hands, and each went his way, with swollen eyes and a bruised 
 face. It was all very strange to me, and I was pulled as to 
 whether each had accomplished what he had set out to do. 
 
 Proceeding down the street, we met a man who looked Jewish, 
 and we stopped him, my companion asking him for directions to 
 the principal streets of the city where there might be something 
 to see. He gave us the names of the streets and instructed us how 
 to get there. As he seemed very friendly, I told him about the 
 fight we had just witnessed, and that I could not understand the 
 meaning of it — that here were two men beating each other so 
 hard that the blood was running down their faces, yet they did 
 not show resentment nor enmity, but shook hands and parted 
 like friends. 
 
 To this our adviser replied, "Ah, it must have been a blood- 
 letting affair," and went on to explain at length that there are 
 some people who have more blood than is good for them; that 
 instead of going to a doctor and paying a fee for being relieved 
 of the surplus blood, they look around for someone who also 
 needs a blood-letting. They then start punching each other until 
 they think they have accomplished their purpose. As we listened 
 intently, the man suddenly laughed loudly and disappeared, and 
 we realised we had been made fun of. 
 
 The time finally came to embark on the large steamer for 
 America. Knowing that food on the ship would not be plentiful, 
 I inquired of some English Jews whom I had met as to the kind 
 of provisions to take along, and on their advice I bought some 
 sausage, cheese and soldier's bread. 
 
 The memory of the twenty-two hour trip across the Channel 
 was very vivid and fresh, and we anticipated with horror an 
 ocean voyage of three or four weeks. In fact, so terrified were we 
 that about ten or twelve of the group changed their minds, and 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 111 
 
 refused to venture forth for fear they would not live to reach 
 New York. 
 
 It took us over three weeks to cross, but fortunately the 
 weather was pleasant, and we had smooth sailing. In fact, it was 
 rather enjoyable. However, the food was bad, and our sleeping 
 quarters in the steerage, with its accompanying odors, is some- 
 thing I have never forgotten. 
 
 Some of the passengers slept in stalls, each of which contained 
 a straw mattress, a pillow and a blanket; but as there were not 
 enough stalls for all, some had to sleep in hammocks, which were 
 tied between two posts. I was fortunate enough to be placed at 
 the end, in one of the stalls. It was pitiful to see the others, how- 
 ever, especially some of the old Jews, crawl into their "beds" and 
 try to make themselves comfortable. 
 
 Our trip was not without its share of excitement. Traveling 
 with us was a group of young Irishmen. I had never heard the 
 word "Irish" before, and had no idea what sort of people they 
 might be; but I was informed that they were fun-loving, quick to 
 play pranks, and always ready to fight. I found this to be so 
 when they decided to have fun with the old Jews who occupied 
 the hammocks. 
 
 One night, about eleven o'clock, after we had retired and all 
 was quiet, I noticed several of these young men creep up cau- 
 tiously, while two others acted as watchmen. It was obvious that 
 they were up to some mischief. I was curious as to what their 
 plans were, and soon saw one of them draw out a knife and set 
 about to cut the rope holding up one of the hammocks. That 
 prank did not appeal to me, as the hammock hung about five feet 
 from the ground, which meant that the occupant was in for a 
 serious fall. Before I realised it, I impulsively cried out in German: 
 
 "Stop that, you ruffians! Do you want to kill that man?" 
 
 That, of course, created a furor. I didn't understand what 
 they were saying to me, but it was plain that I had stirred their 
 
112 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 anger. They shouted and shook their fists at me threateningly, 
 making it necessary for the overseer of the emigrants to intercede 
 and calm them. 
 
 But the matter did not end there. It seems they were now 
 determined to "get me, 11 and the next night I saw these same 
 fellows approaching me stealthily, carrying large mugs of water. 
 Their intention was obvious. Luckily my bottle of drinking water 
 stood nearby, and I emptied the water into my tin cup and waited. 
 Just as they approached my stall, I crouched down in the corner, 
 so that the water they threw missed me, passing over me. I then 
 deliberately poured my cup of water on the face of the sleeping 
 occupant of the next stall, so that it appeared it was the water 
 thrown by the intruders. The poor fellow awoke yelling, and was 
 convinced it was they who had drenched him. The fight that 
 ensued brought out the ship's officers, who decided it would be 
 advisable to station three men to guard against trouble during 
 the remainder of the trip. 
 
 At last we landed at Castle Garden, New York. I at once 
 donned the new suit and hat I had purchased in Germany, and 
 at the suggestion of one of the interpreters, I checked my baggage, 
 which consisted of a suitcase and a sack stuffed to capacity. 
 Then, very confidently, I took my cane, as was fashionable in 
 Germany, and proceeded to go in search of my cousin, Itse Note 
 Horwits, who lived on Forsythe Street in the densely populated 
 east side of New York City, near the Bowery. No one met me 
 at the boat, but I had my cousin's address, written down in 
 English, and an interpreter directed me how to get there. 
 
 It was then that I learned the humiliating appellation of 
 "greenhorn." While I strolled along, looking for my cousin's 
 place, a boy about fourteen or fifteen years of age espied me as 
 an immigrant and decided it would be great sport to throw stones. 
 I was struck several times before I discovered who the culprit 
 was, and started to chase him, when something unexpected hap' 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 113 
 
 pened. I ran right into a man with whom I had worked in 
 Koenigsberg. His name was Nossen Rosenstein, and he had come 
 to America about two years previously. 
 
 We were happy to see each other, but he was unable to under' 
 stand why I had been running, and when I told him what had 
 happened, he took my arm quickly and said very anxiously: 
 
 "For Heaven's sake — you are a greenhorn. Get away as fast 
 as you can, for they are likely to kill you." 
 
 I was glad to get away, and more than glad to have somebody 
 else with me. 
 
 I finally reached my cousin's home on Forsythe Street, and its 
 wretched and neglected appearance almost made me sick. A 
 Talmudic student and one of the leaders of a synagogue, Itse 
 Note knew nothing about business or earning a livelihood, but 
 spent his time in study. His wife, a very clever business woman, 
 was the breadwinner. She peddled dry goods, selling on the in' 
 stalment plan, and was away all day. My cousin, therefore, was 
 the housekeeper, and a poor one at that. They had a girl and two 
 boys, and they all lived in a small flat on the third floor, consisting 
 of three rooms, besides the kitchen. 
 
 I tried to hide my feeling of disappointment, and tried also to 
 remember that I ought to respect my cousin, as I was still a mere 
 boy, and a guest, and he an older man. I greeted him warmly, 
 but the surroundings were so obnoxious to me that I could not 
 refrain from commenting about them. He explained that it was 
 difficult to manage with his wife away all day, to which I re 
 sponded that if he would hire a woman to do the cleaning, I 
 would pay for it. This was a bad beginning, and I now again 
 heard the name, "greenhorn" and was told that he didn't expect 
 a "greenhorn" to come all the way from Germany to criticise his 
 housekeeping and cleanliness. 
 
 I went out to get my baggage, and in the meantime looked over 
 the neighborhood. It was all very disillusioning. The noise and the 
 
114 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 heat were unbearable, and then and there a homesickness for 
 Koenigsberg came over me. I was very lonely, and the nights that 
 followed were sleepless ones for me. I grieved for my home in 
 Koenigsberg, and dreamed of my room in Tilsit. How light and 
 airy, clean and attractive it was! I thought longingly of the flowers 
 that had been brought to my room every morning. I thought of 
 the respect accorded me there, and contrasted it all with my 
 cousin's home and surroundings. In the one place, I had been 
 treated as a prince, while here I was a "greenhorn" — an un- 
 touchable, so to speak, and regarded as silly, and ignorant in the 
 manners and ways of life. Many nights I lay with tears in my 
 eyes, and felt it impossible to go on thus for more than a few 
 months. 
 
 I would have returned to Germany at once, but I had spent 
 more than I had expected to. It had been necessary for me to buy 
 new clothes from head to foot, since my European clothes marked 
 me as a "greenhorn," partly because of their style, and partly 
 because of the odor of salt water that still clung to them. Though 
 I could have bought a ticket back to Germany, it would not have 
 left me enough capital to start out in business again when I got 
 there. My only thought now was to earn some money and save 
 enough to enable me to return as quickly as possible. 
 
 I found my only source of consolation in my cousin, Wolf, 
 the youngest brother of Itze Note. He was outstanding in com- 
 parison with most of the other people with whom I came in 
 contact, being an honest, straightforward, hard-working, sensible, 
 good-hearted and lovable youngster. I am happy to record that 
 he is still here, and is still in business with his sons in New York. 
 His five older brothers in this country have all gone to their 
 eternal rest. 
 
 For two weeks I did nothing but wander around the streets, 
 returning in the evening, when my cousin's wife, Leah, would be 
 home and have supper prepared. Both she and my cousin were 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 115 
 
 generous with their advice as to my future. They told me to 
 forget about the prospect of finding a position, intimating that I 
 would never be able to hold one. My only salvation, they in- 
 formed me, would be to learn the technique of peddling, buying, 
 selling, and so forth. 
 
 Of course, none of this appealed to me. I could not visualise 
 myself going from house to house, trying to deal with people in 
 a language I couldn't speak, realising how I would be received 
 by those who knew I was a "greenhorn/ ' 
 
 I was often deeply hurt when those people whom I thought 
 my friends considered me inferior and undesirable company, 
 simply because of that designation. I was constantly reminded of 
 it, and was made to feel very uncomfortable. 
 
 One incident I remember very plainly. I was out walking and 
 suddenly met a boyhood chum by the name of David, whose 
 father had been my Hebrew teacher at home, in Lithuania. I was 
 greatly elated at meeting such an old friend, but my heart sank 
 with disappointment when he refused to recognise me. I asked 
 him repeatedly if he knew me, reminding him that I had been a 
 pupil in his father's cheder, and trying to refresh his memory 
 by recalling the times I had helped him with his lessons. But he 
 shook his head and insisted on answering in English that he did 
 not know me. This not only hurt my pride, but incensed me 
 greatly, and seising him by the coat, I cried: 
 
 "You miserable little snob, don't you remember when I stole 
 bread and cake and pickles from my mother, and brought them 
 to you because you were starving? Don't you remember the time 
 when you cried that you were hungry, and I brought you to our 
 house, and induced my mother to feed you?" 
 
 I warned him that there would come a day when I would no 
 longer be a "greenhorn," and would belittle him as he had 
 humiliated and belittled me. When I walked away, he overtook 
 me and made an effort to explain, but I refused to listen to him. 
 
116 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I was very despondent because of all these experiences. Yet 
 there was one redeeming feature about the situation — and that 
 was the atmosphere of freedom and liberty that prevailed, as well 
 as the generosity of the people with money. It was that spirit of 
 freedom (true, I then called it "wild freedom"), which helped 
 to give me hope and courage to endure all humiliation. 
 
 As an example — one day, while I was standing on a corner 
 in front of a saloon, a young man came up to me and spoke to 
 me in English. When he found I did not know the language, he 
 immediately spoke in Yiddish, and taking me by the arm, led me 
 into the saloon and treated me to a glass of beer and lunch, which 
 consisted of a hard-boiled egg and bread. When I asked his reason 
 for doing this, he replied: 
 
 "This is America, my boy. When I meet you again, you can 
 have more drinks.'" 
 
 Not only was he generous in treating me, but he also offered 
 me fifty cents, which I refused, assuring him that I was no 
 beggar. JM 
 
 One evening my cousin, Wolf, and I were talking about my 
 future, and I sought his advice. His opinion was that it would 
 be a good idea to peddle handkerchiefs, and he advised that all 
 I had to do was to get myself a box, take a place on one of the 
 Bowery corners, and proceed to sell the handkerchiefs, at five 
 cents apiece. 
 
 That, I felt, was beneath my dignity. Wasn't I a business man 
 in Germany, buying and selling grain, employing people, and 
 called "Herr Kaufman?" In fact, I was actually what would today 
 be termed an "industrialist." How, then, I argued, could I, "Herr 
 Kaufman," stand on a corner and sell handkerchiefs for five cents 
 apiece? 
 
 But Cousin Wolf induced me to try it, and I bought my 
 merchandise, and one evening came home with a profit of eighty- 
 five cents. So happy was I at this, that my whole outlook on life 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 117 
 
 changed, and I could hardly wait until the next day to repeat the 
 procedure. This went on for a week, and my business began to 
 prosper. I was already making plans to build stands where I could 
 sell other wares in addition to handkerchiefs, and expand my 
 business to the point where I would have different branches. 
 
 But suddenly, one day, a policeman approached me on my 
 corner and told me to "move on." I tried another place, but the 
 policeman saw me, and again told me to move. After the third 
 move, the policeman warned me that the fourth time would be 
 the last, as I would then be arrested. So that was the end of my 
 handkerchief business and my plans for expansion. 
 
 Casting about for some other opportunity, I decided to read 
 the advertisements. To my recollection, there were no Jewish 
 newspapers in those days, but a German paper, called the "New 
 York Stadt Zeitung," afforded me the required source of informa' 
 tion. I read in that paper of a business opportunity, wherein a 
 certain man was seeking a partner who had fifty dollars in cash. 
 The inducement was a daily profit of between five and ten dollars. 
 This was overwhelming news, and I excitedly showed the item 
 to my cousin and his wife. They ridiculed me, saying it was a 
 "humbug" — that I would lose every cent, and reiterated that a 
 "greenhorn" should not consider such foolishness. I argued that 
 it was unbelievable for anyone to use the newspapers, a public 
 instrument circulated widely, with fraudulent intentions; but it 
 was of no use — they could not be convinced. 
 
 I decided to take the risk, and without further mention of the 
 matter to my cousin, went to see my prospective partner. I found 
 a young, dignified appearing man in charge of a small one-room 
 office. He spoke German, and explained that he needed someone 
 in the office to receive and attend to any people who might come 
 in. He explained that the nature of his business was to find work 
 for German immigrants, charging them a percentage of their first 
 month's salary, in addition to a down payment of five dollars. All 
 
118 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I had to do was to get the names and addresses of the applicants 
 and obtain five dollars in cash from each one. 
 
 I decided to try it, gave the man ten dollars in cash, and 
 promised to pay forty dollars more the following week. That 
 seemed agreeable to him, and he gave me a receipt and asked me 
 to return two days later. I came back at the specified time, but to 
 my chagrin, found a different person there, who knew nothing 
 about the man I had interviewed nor the receipt he had given me. 
 I then realized that I was still as gullible as when I had first come 
 to Germany, and had permitted myself to be taken advantage of. 
 
 * * * 
 
 I sought further advice from my townspeople who had been 
 here for several years, and they thought it would be a good idea 
 for me to go to another city, preferably Chicago. New York, they 
 said, was known as the "first America," because it was the first 
 city people came to, and most of them naturally remained there, 
 in consequence of which the city was overcrowded. They believed 
 I would find conditions much more to my liking in Chicago, the 
 "second America,' ' as it was a younger city and still growing, 
 and in need of more people. 
 
 I took their advice, and five days later, after paying my cousin 
 for the ticket he had furnished from Germany to New York, as 
 well as other expenses, I bought a ticket to Chicago. After three 
 days of travel on a very uncomfortable, hot and dusty train, I 
 arrived one morning about ten o'clock at the Polk Street Station 
 in Chicago. 
 
 Arriving at the station, I inquired of various people whether 
 they understood German, and one man asked me what I wanted. 
 I told him I was a stranger, just arrived from New York, and 
 would like to be directed to a Jewish neighborhood. He pointed to 
 the east and said: "If you go that way, you will find some Jews, 
 but not many." Then, pointing to the west, he said: "If you go 
 across the bridge, you will find a great many of them." 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 119 
 
 Inquiring as to where the better class of Jews resided, I was 
 given to understand that on Canal Street I would find all kinds 
 of Jews, but mostly poor ones. 
 
 I checked my baggage at the station, crossed the bridge and 
 reached Canal Street. Here I came upon a rather unkempt per- 
 son, hatless, collarless, and coatless, standing in front of a store, 
 smoking a big cigar. I tried to overlook his appearance, and told 
 him what I wanted. In a very rude and facetious manner he said 
 in Yiddish, without removing the cigar: 
 
 "You go straight ahead, and you will find all the Jacobs, 
 Chayims and Abrahams you want." 
 
 I decided to seek a more desirable individual for information, 
 and I soon came upon a nice, motherly-looking Jewish woman 
 talking to a little girl. I apologised for intruding and repeated my 
 story. The woman was very friendly, and when she heard that I 
 came from Germany, she told me that her brother had come from 
 there about six weeks previously, and she was sure he and his 
 family would be glad to have me stay with them. Her name, as I 
 learned later, was Mrs. Davis, and her brother's name was 
 Itschok, or Isaac, Goldstein. 
 
 The Goldstein family, consisting of the husband, wife and two 
 children, a boy and a girl, lived on Liberty Street, and they re- 
 ceived me very well. The girl's name was Anna, and the boy's 
 name, Louie, and both of them are still here. During the few 
 years I lived with the family, another son was born, named David. 
 To my sorrow, he passed away about five years ago. 
 
 Mr. Goldstein was a unique type of person. He was a young 
 man of average height, rather stocky, and had a blond beard, 
 blond hair and blue eyes and regular features, so that he looked 
 more like a Nordic than a Jew. He had had no schooling, but 
 possessed good common sense, and was straight-thinking and 
 honest. We would sit for hours talking about Germany. He was 
 interested in me and my history, as well as in my family and 
 
120 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 relatives, and living at his home was my first pleasant experience 
 in this country. 
 
 In the short time Mr. Goldstein had been in Chicago, he had 
 established a peddling business, carrying a pack on his back, and 
 was making a fair living. He was concerned about me and my 
 future, and every day his advice was that I buy some goods and 
 take up peddling. 
 
 I disliked the idea very much. It seemed so humiliating. I felt 
 that since I still had about a hundred dollars in cash, I would pre 
 fer to find a job and see how I could manage. 
 
 I acquainted myself with some of the west side streets, and 
 learned of a concern on Canal Street by the name of Swarts & 
 Nathan, dealers in scrap iron. They operated a large yard, where 
 the scrap iron was received, sorted according to grades and kinds, 
 and sold to steel mills. I was told I had a good chance of getting 
 a job there. 
 
 Mr. Swarts, the senior partner, was a tall, strong, dark- 
 complexioned man, with a very serious face. He studied me 
 for a while during our interview, and then told me to report for 
 work at seven o'clock the next morning. I very meekly asked him 
 about the kind of work I was expected to do, and what the salary 
 would be, and he replied abruptly: 
 
 "You will do whatever you are told to do, and your wages 
 will be a dollar and twenty cents a day. ,, 
 
 I was there promptly at seven o'clock the next morning. My 
 co-workers were big, husky Irishmen and Poles, and we were 
 assigned to unload rusty iron. This type of work was entirely 
 new to me, and my hands began to give me a great deal of trouble, 
 so that it was necessary for me to use gloves. However, I worked 
 very diligently for about three weeks. I did not mind the hard 
 work, nor even my aching hands, but I could not bear the treat' 
 ment I received from the other workers. Knowing I was a "green' 
 horn," unable to speak English, they pushed me around, and on 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 121 
 
 one occasion, while we were unloading a wagon of steel rails, 
 they deliberately dropped a heavy piece of rail right beside me. 
 Had I not jumped away in time, I would have been badly hurt. 
 
 The men burst into laughter, and I was amazed at their grim 
 sense of humor. I immediately spoke to Mr. Swarts about the 
 incident, telling him that I was not afraid of the hard work or 
 the blistered hands, but did fear the acts of the other men and felt 
 it was dangerous working with them. 
 
 "Well," was Mr. Swartzfs response, "I cannot engage other 
 men for you. That is how they are, and if you don't like it, you 
 can look for another place. " I left at once. 
 
 Five or six years after I left Mr. Swartzfs employ, it happened, 
 by a strange coincidence, that I was called upon to act as one of 
 three arbitrators in a case involving damages against his firm. A 
 man had been killed while in his employ, and the widow presented 
 a claim, asking a large sum. 
 
 The other two arbitrators were a Mr. Gershon and Mr. Joseph 
 Hirsch, of Schults & Hirsch Co. I was delegated to act for the 
 widow, while Mr. Gershon was to represent Mr. Swarts and Mr. 
 Hirsch was to act as impartial mediator. Although I had the 
 opportunity, in this matter, to make things difficult for Mr. 
 Swartz, I forgot my grudge against him and proposed a reason- 
 able settlement of $8,000.00 on behalf of the widow, which every 
 body agreed was fair to both parties, and which sum was duly 
 paid. 
 
 For a week after I left Mr. Swartzfs firm I doctored my hands, 
 which were in a very bad condition. When they were better, Mr. 
 Goldstein again mentioned to me the peddling business, and much 
 as I disliked the idea, I agreed to try it. He took me to a whole 
 sale dry goods store on Canal Street, which was owned and 
 ostensibly conducted by a Mr. Marks Simon, but was actually 
 operated chiefly by his wife. Mr. Simon was a modest man, known 
 
122 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 in the neighborhood as a nice, pious, respectable Jewish store' 
 keeper. 
 
 Mr. Goldstein selected my merchandise for me. My stock, 
 amounting to forty dollars, consisted of towels, table cloths, 
 napkins, underwear and various notions, such as buttons, needles, 
 shoelaces, thimbles, handkerchiefs and laces. I had an awful time 
 trying to mark the prices, and memorising the name, cost and 
 selling price of each article. 
 
 Two days later I found myself doing what I had put off all this 
 time. There I was out on the street with a pack on my back and 
 a basket in front, going wherever chance might take me. I was 
 mortified and self-conscious, and felt that all eyes were on me. 
 Within an hour I made three attempts to turn back. The thought 
 of having been reduced to peddling with a pack on my back 
 distressed me. I was ashamed of myself. 
 
 For three hours, from nine to twelve o'clock, I went from 
 house to house, but no one would see me. At last I came to the 
 home of a Swedish woman, who opened the door and looked over 
 my stock. She purchased goods to the amount of two dollars, 
 on which I made a profit of thirty 'five cents. This was the first 
 success I experienced since giving up the handkerchief business 
 on the Bowery in New York. As time went on and I gathered 
 more courage, I managed to earn between one and two dollars 
 a day, and some days as much as five or six dollars. 
 
 The work was not terribly hard, but our chief trouble came 
 from the boys on the street and from the streetcar drivers and 
 conductors. Those boys, who had nothing else to do but molest 
 and harass and steal, had not the intelligence to comprehend 
 that we human caravans were simply trying to make an honest, 
 decent living. They saw only the incongruous appearance that 
 we made, with our large packs and baskets, and we were good 
 prey for them. They were always there to bombard us with 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 123 
 
 stones, and it made little or no difference to them that they 
 sometimes caused serious injury and in many cases, death. 
 
 The street-car conductors, to add to our difficulties, often 
 refused us passage, and frequently, after we had boarded their 
 cars, forced us off again. 
 
 Every evening after supper, we used to tell each other the 
 kind of goods we had sold that day, how much money we took 
 in, and how much profit we had made, and particularly the 
 trouble we had encountered from loafers and hoodlums. 
 
 Mr. Goldstein, a kind soul and very optimistic, never com- 
 plained of the struggle he had to make a living. On the other 
 hand, no matter what happened to him, he described the occur- 
 rence in detail, with enthusiasm and optimism, in such a manner 
 as to give his listeners the impression that he was happy because 
 his torturer had cheated himself in not doing worse than he did. 
 He carried his merchandise in a large box which he had made 
 especially for the purpose of protection. It had large straps 
 through which he could slide his arms and lift the box high over 
 his head, thus guarding himself against the stones hurled from 
 the rear. 
 
 One afternoon about five o'clock, after a day's work, I 
 jumped on a street-car with my packs of merchandise, to go 
 home. The conductor was in the front, and I got on at the rear, 
 so that he would not see me. I settled down, putting my baggage 
 in two places, to make it as inconspicuous as possible. When the 
 conductor came from the front to collect my fare, he noticed the 
 basket on one side and my bundle on the other, and remarked in 
 a loud voice: 
 
 "You had better take your bundles and go back to Jerusalem." 
 He spoke with a very strong Irish accent, and most of the people 
 in the car looked at me and laughed. 
 
124 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 For a moment I was embarrassed and felt confused, but while 
 he was making change, I gathered courage, and spoke up, as 
 follows: 
 
 "In the first place, Mr. Conductor, you should not make fun 
 of Jerusalem, for if you know anything at all, you ought to know 
 that Jesus was born near there, and the Christian religion had 
 its beginning in Jerusalem. Secondly, neither I nor my parents 
 nor my grandparents were born there or lived there. The fact 
 that Jews lived in Jerusalem two thousand years ago is no reason 
 why I should go there because of your say-so. 
 
 "But you are an Irishman. Anyone can tell it by your accent. 
 You were born there, and no doubt you are not very long from 
 Ireland, as is apparent from your English. Why, then, don't you 
 go back to Ireland? That would be more natural and more 
 logical." 
 
 Of course, this is not the exact language I used, but it conveys 
 the gist of what I said. 
 
 While I was trying to make myself understood, in broken 
 English, everybody laughed; but when I had finished, an elderly 
 man came over to me and shook my hand, and said: 
 
 "Well spoken, young man. You are right. He deserved to be 
 reproved." 
 
 I felt like a general who had won a great victory. 
 
 Late one afternoon, Mr. Goldstein came home from the day's 
 work with his cheek and eye all swollen. I was very anxious to 
 know what had happened, but he only smiled and said, "Wait" 
 — he would tell everything as soon as he had washed up and 
 we were ready for supper. 
 
 This is the story he told us: While walking on Randolph 
 Street, he had noticed a nice-looking boy gating at a sign and 
 apparently paying no attention to him. Before passing him, 
 however, Mr. Goldstein studied the boy covertly, to make sure 
 it was safe to do so, and when he felt certain the boy would not 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 125 
 
 harm him, he walked by very nonchalantly, pretending not to 
 see him. He had taken but a few steps when he felt a sharp, 
 stinging blow above his eye, and noticed a "nice, pointy little 
 stone' ' rolling on the ground. He picked it up and brought it 
 home to show us. 
 
 "The blow dased me," he told us, "and I thought I was shot. 
 I stood there, leaning against the wall, so helpless that the fellow 
 could have taken from me anything he wanted. But," he added 
 smilingly, "that fool ran away." 
 
 I have never forgotten how placidly and pleasantly he related 
 the incident, showing no vindictiveness or anger — overjoyed, 
 in fact, that the boy did not rob him of everything he had. I, 
 however, was very bitter and incensed over the matter. I argued 
 with him that he should have attempted to seize the boy and 
 punish him — but he had the usual answer: "Well, we are Jews, 
 and it could have been a lot worse. We might just as well thank 
 God, and make the best of it." 
 
 Liberty Street, where we lived, was one of the many unpaved 
 short streets between Canal and Halsted Streets, and was nar' 
 row, muddy and dirty. The wooden sidewalks were uneven, and 
 at some places they were elevated, with steps on each side, 
 leading to the houses. 
 
 Every second evening and on Sunday afternoon, we would 
 go over to Canal Street, for the purpose of replenishing our 
 stock. The neighborhood swarmed with these vicious, uncon' 
 trolled boys from whom we suffered so much, and it was almost 
 impossible to pass through without harm. Mr. Goldstein hit 
 upon a mode of procedure to protect himself — he would either 
 wait for some woman to pass by, or he would ask Mrs. Heine, 
 a German neighbor across the street, to accompany him, as these 
 scoundrels seemed to have at least a little respect for a woman. 
 When I went along, we would have the woman walk 
 between us. 
 
126 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 The fruit and vegetable and junk dealers, who used horses 
 and wagons, experienced less difficulty than we did, as they 
 could whip up their horses and gallop away when danger 
 threatened. Those who peddled on foot, however, were never 
 safe from attack, and so bad was the situation that a good many 
 of the Jews of that neighborhood stayed only long enough to 
 save sufficient money to pay for their steamship tickets, and 
 returned to Europe. 
 
 One day, after I had been peddling for several months, fate 
 took me to the house of a friendly Irishwoman. In the course of 
 our conversation, I complained, in the best English I could 
 command, of my bitter struggle to make a living, and of the 
 troubles I had because of the wild, mischievous boys on the 
 streets. She told me about the Milwaukee Avenue district, in- 
 forming me that there were a good many well-to-do families of 
 various nationalities in that locality, and that, furthermore, the 
 boys were less menacing. She stated that she had lived there for 
 several years, and knew the neighborhood quite well, and she 
 suggested that I try it. I took her advice and set aside Tuesdays 
 and Fridays for working on Milwaukee Avenue. 
 
 After several weeks of visiting the latter section, I made a 
 contact which proved to be a very lucky one for me. I happened 
 to call at the home of a Mrs. Klee, whose husband was a dealer 
 in horses, supplying them to street car companies. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Klee were German Jews, who had been in America for many 
 years. The very first time I called, she bought nearly ten dollars' 
 worth of goods, treated me to lunch, and gave me an order for the 
 following week. Not only was she a good customer, but she 
 obtained other customers for me, and with Mrs. Klee's help my 
 business increased, && that within a year it was no longer neces- 
 sary for me to carry a big pack around all the time. Instead, I 
 would see my customers on certain days of the week, and take 
 their orders. Then I would go to Marshall Field & Company's 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 127 
 
 wholesale house, which at that time, if I am not mistaken, was 
 located on the corner of Market and Randolph Streets, purchase 
 the necessary goods all at one time, and deliver them. 
 
 Mrs. Klee truly was a godsend, and proved an important 
 factor in my career. It was she who recommended me to a 
 Swedish family that lived some distance southwest of Milwaukee 
 Avenue, and this family also secured many customers for me. 
 So much faith did I have in the Swedish family and in the Klee 
 family that on occasions when I had a cumbersome pack with 
 me, and had to return to the neighborhood on my next day's 
 business, I would leave my pack with one or the other. Or if it 
 happened that I had more money with me than I felt it safe to 
 carry, I would leave the money with my Swedish friends, or 
 with Mrs. Klee. This was a necessary precaution, as we had 
 had several night visitors at Mr. Goldstein's home on Liberty 
 Street, who had robbed us of what little money was in the house 
 at the time. 
 
 The friendliness of the Swedish family was especially mani' 
 fested in a certain incident. Calling there one Friday afternoon, 
 the lady of the house informed me that she was too busy to talk 
 business then, and asked me to return on Sunday afternoon, 
 when her husband and two daughters would be at home. I was 
 pleased with the suggestion, and left my big bundle with her. 
 
 When I called the following Sunday afternoon, the husband, 
 in the presence of the entire family, asked me to show him my 
 stock. He selected a pair of socks, and asked for four more pair, 
 but I found I had only two. He then picked up a tablecloth, 
 and said he would like two of them — but I had only the one. 
 Finally, he saw a suit of underwear, and asked for two more 
 of the same kind, but again I had only the one. I knew that I 
 should have had all of the articles he wanted, and that they 
 were in my pack when I left it with his wife the previous 
 Friday. I felt nervous and confused, but tried not to show it, 
 
128 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 and told him that he should take what I had, and I would bring 
 the rest on my next trip. He looked at me rather strangely and 
 said: 
 
 "I am surprised at you. You do not know how much stock 
 you have. You're a fine business man. You don't even know 
 what your stock consists of. How can you get on like that?" 
 
 "Well," I answered slowly, "of course, I know." I took out 
 my notebook and showed him that I should have had so many 
 of this article and so many of the other. 
 
 "Then," he said, looking me straight in the eye, "why the 
 dickens didn't you say anything?" 
 
 "In the first place," I replied, "I did not know who took the 
 things, and even if I suspected you or any member of the family, 
 I would not have permitted myself to accuse you of stealing 
 anything." 
 
 In a very surprised manner, he asked: "Would you have gone 
 away without saying a word to me about it?" 
 
 I told him that I certainly would have gone away without 
 letting him know that I entertained the slightest suspicion. This 
 made a fine impression on him, and he shook hands with me 
 and said: 
 
 "We just wanted to have some fun by trying you out. Some 
 of the family thought that you would holler 'murder' and run 
 for the police — but I see now the kind of person you are." 
 
 He went on to say that if our religious beliefs were not so 
 far apart, he would have liked to see me marry one of his 
 daughters. 
 
 I continued in the peddling business for three years. Friends 
 often suggested that I open a store, believing I would be suc- 
 cessful in such a venture, but the idea did not appeal to me. 
 
 When my business was established to the point where I could 
 relax somewhat, I proposed to Mr. Goldstein that we buy a 
 horse and wagon in partnership and peddle our merchandise 
 
"THE LAND OF OPPORTUNITY" 129 
 
 together. I suggested that we spend a half day seeing his custo- 
 mers and the other half seeing mine, and explained that while 
 one of us was visiting the customers, the other could watch the 
 wagon and merchandise. We tried it, and it worked out very 
 well. We were able to carry more goods, and less effort was 
 required, and most important of all, we were much safer from 
 attack by hoodlums. We also were much happier, as we had 
 disliked being in the "peddler class," and now considered our- 
 selves "merchants.'" 
 
 Gradually I overcame the early hardships of earning a liveli- 
 hood. I had saved close to a thousand dollars, and with things 
 looking better for me, I began to forget Germany. However, had 
 I had that much money when I first came here, with conditions 
 as I found them, I would certainly have returned to Germany 
 immediately. 
 
 Just as a test, I decided to write to my ex-partner, Max Perl- 
 man, in Koenigsberg, to find out whether he would accept me 
 as a partner again. I told him that I had $1,000.00 (which was 
 equivalent to more than 4,000 marks), and would like to return 
 to Germany if he would accept my proposition. I really did not 
 expect a favorable reply, but I was curious as to his reaction. 
 
 I received a prompt response, a four-page letter, written in 
 German, in which he set forth various explanations and excuses, 
 and a final absolute "No." His letter satisfied me, and I decided 
 definitely to remain here. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 EARLY CHICAGO 
 
 Sixty years ago, the city extended on the west only as far as 
 Ogden Avenue. The "aristocratic" street of the West Side was 
 Ashland Boulevard, from Polk Street north, and it was there 
 that Carter H. Harrison, then mayor of Chicago, resided. 
 
 At that time, according to Meites 1 "History of the Jews of 
 Chicago, " there were about ten thousand Jews in the city. These 
 were divided into definite groups. The Russian and Polish Jews 
 were crowded into the district bounded by Canal, Halsted, Polk 
 and 14th Streets, being especially concentrated on Canal Street, 
 where many were established in business. As previously described, 
 the great majority of this group of Jews earned their livelihood 
 by peddling dry goods and notions, which they carried around on 
 foot, or junk, vegetables and fruit, which were peddled with 
 horse and wagon. Every morning one could see a small army of 
 men, with packs on their shoulders, going off in various direc 
 tions, and a whole array of junk and vegetable peddlers driving 
 through the streets, crying out their wares at the tops of their 
 voices. 
 
 The noise they made was considered a nuisance by many of the 
 citizens, and complaints were brought to the attention of the City 
 Council. However, nothing was done about it. The peddlers had 
 their own complaints, regarding their being attacked on the 
 streets, and Mayor Harrison, who was a fine, highly intelligent 
 and liberal man, listened to all parties. He tried to appease every- 
 one by assuring them all, in his friendly and quiet manner, that 
 these things were merely incidental to the growth of the city, and 
 that in time everything would be regulated to everybody's satis- 
 faction, if they would have patience. This good man was assassi- 
 nated on October 29, 1893, while serving his fifth term as Mayor 
 of Chicago. 
 
 130 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 131 
 
 The German Jews, who were in the minority, resided chiefly 
 on Michigan Avenue, between 12th Street and 35th Street, 
 although some German Jews, together with Jews from Roumania, 
 Galicia and Bohemia, lived in the Milwaukee Avenue district. 
 
 The relationship between the Russian and Polish Jews and the 
 German Jews was anything but amicable. The latter group, with 
 their background of German culture, speaking the German 
 language, engaged in more worldly and sophisticated business 
 enterprises, and practicing Reformed Judaism, were looked upon 
 as Germans rather than as Jews. The Russian and Polish Jews 
 maintained that the reformed religious ideas of the German Jews 
 made them really "substitute" or "second'hand" Jews, and that 
 their Rabbis were almost like Christian ministers. Some even 
 asserted that they regarded the Christian ministers more highly 
 than the Reformed Rabbis, since the former were believers and 
 preached their religion truthfully and faithfully, while the latter 
 tried to deny their Judaism, so as to ingratiate themselves with 
 the non'Jews. 
 
 The Russian and Polish Jews, having come from countries 
 where oppression took the place of education, were considered 
 by the German Jews and people in general to be unlearned and 
 "half civilised. " Very few of them could read or write English, 
 and since there was as yet no Yiddish paper here, they received 
 their information from their children of school age, who could 
 understand a little of what was in the newspapers. The majority 
 knew only what little Hebrew they had learned in their "cheders," 
 and for the most part were religious fanatics. Most of them had 
 beards and wore ill-fitting garments, spoke only Yiddish, and made 
 their living as peddlers or petty traders. They were accordingly 
 looked upon as undesirable immigrants by many. 
 
 The attitude of the German Jews towards their Russian and 
 Polish brothers was one of superiority and unpleasant pity. They 
 tolerated them only because they were Jews, and one would often 
 
132 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 hear the German Jews bewailing their fate — that they, Ameri' 
 canised business men, had to be classed in the same category with 
 the poor, ignorant, ragged Jewish peddlers on the other side of 
 the river, on Canal Street. Although I myself was one of these 
 "Jewish peddlers", I could hardly blame them. 
 
 The German Jews then had, as far as I can remember, three 
 houses of worship, namely: Sinai Temple, Kehilath Anshe Maariv 
 and Zion Congregation. Sinai Temple had two Rabbis, one of 
 whom was Rabbi Bernhard Felsenthal. He was very old and sel' 
 dom officiated, but occasionally he would deliver a sermon in the 
 German language. Of the old German school, he was quite a 
 scholar, and was familiar with Jewish literature as well as litera- 
 ture in general. He was considered "only partly Reformed," and 
 the more intelligent Orthodox Jews liked him for his sincerity, 
 piety and mild and kind disposition. 
 
 The other Rabbi of Sinai Temple was Dr. Emil G. Hirsch, 
 then a young man. He was a graduate of an American and a 
 German university, and had received his rabbinical degree from 
 a German seminary. Dr. Hirsch was an outstanding reformer, a 
 great scholar and a brilliant orator and linguist. In later years, 
 he acquired the reputation of being one of the three foremost 
 orators in the country, the other two being Burke Cochran and 
 Chauncey Depew. 
 
 The Russian Jews had a synagogue on Canal Street and one on 
 Clark Street, near Polk. The one on Canal Street, if I remember 
 rightly, did not then as yet have a Rabbi. 
 
 The synagogue on Clark Street was a very small place. How- 
 ever, the leaders of the community considered it proper to call it 
 "Beth Hamedrash HagadoP — "the great Synagogue." Its Rabbi, 
 Eleaser Anixter, was orthodox in the fullest meaning of the word. 
 Indeed, he could have been a Rabbi two hundred years ago in 
 Poland. This world meant nothing to him. During his whole life, 
 he prepared himself for the world to come by praying, studying 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 133 
 
 the Talmud and the hundreds of its commentaries, preaching and 
 settling disputes, and bewailing the destruction of Jerusalem and 
 the Temple. 
 
 I had my first experience in the Jewish religious community of 
 Chicago about seven weeks after my arrival. It was during the 
 High Holidays, and for the New Year services I went to the 
 Reformed Temple of which Dr. Emil G. Hirsch was the Rabbi, 
 as I understood he was to preach in the German language. When 
 I arrived, I found that all the seats were taken, but an usher 
 managed to place me in a corner near the platform. This would 
 have been a very advantageous position, but Dr. Hirsch spoke 
 in English, and very erudite English at that, instead of in Ger' 
 man, so I understood little of what he said. 
 
 The next week, for the Yom Kippur services, I decided to try 
 the synagogue on Canal Street. However, I was informed I could 
 not enter unless I paid the one dollar admission charge. This was 
 too high for me, and I offered to pay fifty cents, but was refused. 
 I tried to convince the trustee at the door that that was all I 
 could afford, and urged him to let me in. He finally called a 
 policeman to force me out. 
 
 I then went to De Koven Street, where services were being 
 held in a rented hall. Here I also offered my fifty cents, but to 
 my pleased surprise, the doorman stated that since I was a new 
 comer, they would not charge me any admission fee. He did not 
 use the term "greenhorn" in addressing me as he was a "green" 
 horn ' himself. 
 
 A few years later, this congregation laid a cornerstone for a 
 synagogue on Judd Street, and called for contributions of from 
 ten cents up. I contributed five dollars, without comment, and 
 went away. As I left, I heard people exclaiming: "There goes the 
 fellow who gave five dollars!" 
 
 The synagogue on Canal Street, from which I had been ejected, 
 celebrated its fiftieth anniversary about twelve years ago, and I 
 
134 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 was invited to be one of the speakers. Our present Governor 
 Henry Horner, who was then a judge, was also there to speak. 
 
 In my opening remarks, I told the congregation that instead of 
 making a speech, I would relate an experience I had with a 
 certain synagogue seven weeks after I came, as a "greenhorn," to 
 Chicago. I described in detail the argument I had with one of the 
 trustees over the admission fee — how hard I tried to persuade 
 him to let me in for fifty cents, and how he called a policeman 
 and had me forced out on the sidewalk. When I finished, I waited 
 a few seconds, and then said: 
 
 "Do you know which synagogue that was? If you cannot guess, 
 I will tell you. This, your synagogue, was the one where I had 
 such a fine reception when I first came to Chicago. " 
 
 This created quite a sensation. Although the administration 
 had changed many times, there were still a few former members 
 of the Board of Directors present, and they were, I am afraid, 
 very much embarrassed. However, I had my satisfaction. 
 
 As I remember, the early leaders among the Russian Jews of 
 the West Side were the following: Mr. Max Swarts, my former 
 employer in the scrap iron business; Mr. Marks Nathan, for whom 
 was named the Marks Nathan Orphan Home; the two brothers 
 Berkson and a Mr. Jacob Cohen, who manufactured men's and 
 ladies' hosiery; the two brothers, Mendel and Max Simon, who 
 were in the wholesale dry goods business, supplying dry goods 
 and notions to the peddlers; and also Abram A. Bernstein, 
 Harris Cohen, H. M. Barnett, Dr. A. P. Kadison, J. Kanter 
 and Abram Lieberman. 
 
 The leading Jews of the Reformed group whom I knew were 
 Charles Kosminsky, Nelson Morris, Adolph Loeb, Adolf Kraus 
 and Harry Greenebaum. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Occasionally I would hear of political meetings, to which 
 everybody was invited, or of meetings in the "SchuL" I tried to 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 135 
 
 attend as many of these gatherings as I could, in an effort to 
 master the English language. I learned, at the political meetings, 
 that the Irish and the Germans exerted a great influence in politi- 
 cal life. The former dominated the police force, and the latter, 
 the saloon business — the "beer saloons," as they were then 
 called. The politicians and candidates depended to a great extent 
 on the saloon element for votes. Here I also learned the meaning 
 of and the difference between the Republican and Democratic 
 parties. The Republican Party had the greater appeal for me, and 
 I have since been an adherent of that party. 
 
 One day, on the occasion of a national holiday, I attended 
 a meeting held in the Canal Street synagogue. The principal 
 speaker was a young lawyer by the name of Shabad, recently 
 graduated, and as he was, I believe, the only Russian Jewish law 
 yer with an "American" education in the city at that time, he was 
 very highly regarded by the community of "greenhorns." 
 
 His talk was given in English, and I listened attentively to 
 catch every word. He spoke about the Civil War, and marvelled 
 at the greatness of our country, contrasting this land of freedom 
 with the lands of tyrannical oppression from which the mem" 
 bers of the audience had escaped. He admonished them to show 
 their patriotism and to thank God every day, especially on the 
 Sabbath day, for being free citizens and for having the privilege 
 of living here. 
 
 I observed that most of the audience could not understand him, 
 and were therefore annoyed. I, however, understood most of what 
 he said; but I was not moved by his rhetoric, being painfully 
 aware of the attacks made upon us by the street ruffians as we 
 tried to earn our bread, and the general humiliation we Jews 
 suffered. 
 
 When he finished, and the president announced that evening 
 services would follow in fifteen minutes, some irresistible force 
 made me call out that I would like to say a few words. This crc 
 
136 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 ated quite a stir, and the eyes of all were turned upon me. I 
 ascended the platform, and said in Germanized Yiddish: 
 
 "If I am granted permission, and you will have patience, you 
 will learn what I want to say." 
 
 My speaking Yiddish interested the audience, and many asked 
 that I be permitted to go on. I thereupon turned to the young 
 lawyer, and said to him: 
 
 "My friend, you should know that these people were unable 
 to understand what you told them. If you cannot speak in Yid' 
 dish, then don't speak at all. However, I know that you can 
 speak in Yiddish, and I think you should have given your speech 
 in that language, and should not have told the people anything 
 which they could not understand or believe. " 
 
 I then addressed myself to the audience, and explained his 
 talk to them, after which I added the following: 
 
 "This man advises us that we should thank God every day, 
 especially on Saturdays and holidays, for the freedom and liberty 
 that we are enjoying in this great and blessed country. That 
 might apply to those who are really enjoying the blessings of 
 freedom and equality, but do we Jews here on the West Side — 
 do you peddlers — enjoy that liberty?" 
 
 There was a roar of approval. The president did not like this, 
 and exclaimed: 
 
 "It is impertinent for a greenhorn boy to talk like that!" 
 
 However, the people were eager to hear more, and shouted, 
 "Go on! Go on!" So I continued. I painted the picture of our 
 plight — how hard it was for each of us to make a living — 
 that we had nothing wrong in mind — that all we wanted was to 
 earn our bread in an honest, respectable manner. I worked my 
 self up to such a pitch, that I actually shouted. 
 
 "How are we treated?" I cried. "Like dogs! On every corner 
 we are attacked, and we are not safe anywhere. We are not 
 safe even in front of this synagogue! When we walk along the 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 137 
 
 streets, we must peer cautiously, to left and right, like hunted 
 animals, for fear of being attacked by the ruffians who live on 
 crime. Can we call that freedom — or slavery ?" 
 
 The cry, "Slavery!" came from many parts of the synagogue. 
 
 The cheering and applause lasted for many minutes, and when 
 the audience calmed down, I continued: 
 
 "If we cannot get the authorities to protect us, then we should 
 form some kind of organised protection ourselves. We should 
 engage young men, and pay them to watch out for these hood" 
 lums, and when they find a Jew being molested, they should give 
 them a beating they will remember for the rest of their lives." 
 
 I then turned to the president, and said: "If you want to do 
 anything for the Jews here, and for the congregation, call a spe- 
 cial meeting and organise such a group of watchers, and I am 
 sure that those who torture us will no longer keep us in constant 
 fear. Only then will things change for the better/ 1 
 
 This entire incident upset me very much, and I was nervous 
 and excited, especially when many people came rushing up to 
 shake my hand and praise me, some of them telling me their 
 experiences. 
 
 The president stated that he would have a committee see Dr. 
 Hirsch, who in turn would see the Mayor about the situation and 
 they would undoubtedly find some way to remedy it. Although 
 he had opposed my speaking at first, the president now admitted 
 that in the last few months, three peddlers had been so badly 
 beaten that one was crippled and another had died. 
 
 The result was that a committee did go to see the Mayor, 
 and he promised that he would instruct the police captains to 
 assign more men to the Jewish neighborhood. He also assured 
 them that he would write to the school teachers, asking them to 
 warn the children not to molest anybody on the street. I don't 
 know whether that helped a great deal, but I do remember that 
 the newspapers printed articles regarding the situation, and the 
 
138 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Jews were encouraged when they saw public officials and authori- 
 ties take a hand in the matter. 
 
 As I have stated before, Mayor Harrison was loved by the 
 people of Chicago, and especially by the Jews. He spoke German 
 to the Jews, and because they could understand him, and because, 
 with his gray beard he resembled a Rabbi, they felt very close 
 to him. 
 
 I remember one occasion, when a meeting was held in the 
 synagogue in honor of the one hundredth anniversary of the well 
 known Jewish philanthropist, benefactor and statesman, Moses 
 Montefiore, and Mayor Harrison was invited to speak. As he 
 entered the synagogue, the people went wild, and clamored 
 to shake his hand. The president introduced him, saying that 
 he knew our Honorable Mayor understood German — therefore 
 he must understand Yiddish. I am sorry to say the introduction 
 was not a great success, as neither the audience, nor the Mayor, 
 nor the president himself, knew what he was talking about. 
 
 The Mayor stepped up to the platform, wearing his hat. 
 
 "I know it is a religious custom to wear a hat in a synagogue,' 1 ' 
 he remarked. "But I came here to speak to you about a great man 
 — not only great as a Jew, but great as a lover of humanity and 
 philanthropy — and when I mention his name, I must take off my 
 hat. That man is your Moses Montefiore. " With that he removed 
 his hat and remained bareheaded for a moment. 
 
 Watching the people there that night, I could see how appre- 
 ciative and solicitous they were of him. I realised that they were 
 willing to do almost anything for him, and I, too, felt the same 
 way. 
 
 However, in the midst of all this enthusiasm, I overheard some- 
 one remark in Yiddish: 
 
 "Alas! How unfortunate is our situation, and how pitiful is 
 our self-respect, that because an official addresses us in kind words., 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 139 
 
 we are so overwhelmed with gratitude that we could fall on our 
 
 knees and kiss his feetf ' 
 
 * * * 
 
 About that time, a new Rabbi, by the name of A. G. Lesser, 
 came to Chicago, having been invited by his countrymen here to 
 come and act as the spiritual leader of a synagogue that had just 
 been organised. Although he had been Rabbi of a little synagogue 
 in a small town in Lithuania, he was well known as a scholar and 
 as a pious and intelligent man. Rather young, and of a striking 
 appearance, he had fine features, wore a becoming beard, and 
 looked more like an American professor than an Orthodox Rabbi. 
 
 His arrival created a stir among those Jews from the "old 
 country' ' who had become somewhat Americanised. They 
 tendered him a reception, and announced that he would be in' 
 ducted on a certain day in a certain hall on Clark Street, at 
 which time he would deliver his first sermon. 
 
 In the "old country" that I knew, it was not the function of 
 the Rabbi to deliver sermons or make speeches. His duties were 
 primarily to act as judge between disputing parties, perform map 
 riages, give advice and decide religious questions relating to die' 
 tary laws, and so forth; and also to officiate in divorce cases, 
 which latter occurred very, very seldom. The rest of his time, 
 he was expected to devote to the study of the Talmud and Jew 
 ish literature in general. 
 
 The lecturing was done by learned Jews, like my Uncle 
 Ishaya, who used to travel from town to town and speak to the 
 people on the Sabbath and the various holidays, and sometimes 
 even on week days. These men were known as "maggidim," 
 which means "speakers" or "lecturers." They were divided into 
 two categories. One group would deliver lectures only on the 
 Bible or the Talmud and the commentaries pertaining thereto. The 
 other group were something like what we know here as evangel' 
 ists. They would admonish the people to be pious, honest and 
 
140 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 charitable and to have the utmost faith in God and His laws, 
 and in the greatness of Israel. They would also dwell on the great 
 calamity that befell the Jews when Palestine and Jerusalem were 
 conquered by the Romans, and on the past and present sufferings 
 of our people. 
 
 I remember those Saturday afternoons in the winter time, at 
 dusk, when it was not as yet permitted to light the candles, but 
 was still so dark that one could hardly recognize another. The 
 little Lithuanian synagogue, with its crude, uneven benches, old 
 and dilapidated, was crowded with miserable human beings, 
 broken in body and spirit, hoping against hope to hear some words 
 of encouragement or some good news from the guest "maggid." 
 
 In a sing-song voice, the "maggid" would lament the misfor' 
 tunes of the Jews, and describe how they were persecuted, op" 
 pressed and mistreated by their enemies, and how they lived in 
 misery and poverty. The whole assemblage would cry and cry, as 
 long as they had tears left. Some would cry themselves to sleep, 
 and one could hear them sighing and moaning in their slumber. 
 
 Before he finished, however, the speaker would adopt a dif' 
 ferent tone. He would clear his throat, and dry his tears, or pre' 
 tend to do so, with a large red handkerchief which he always 
 held in his hand. His mourning ceased, and his sing-song voice 
 and sorrowful demeanor gave way to a more confident attitude 
 and consoling tone. He would assure the people that as long 
 as they had faith in God and obeyed His commands, as is written 
 in the holy Torah, there was no reason to fear. He would add 
 that this life was just a stepping-stone to the real world to come, 
 and that the suffering we experienced here was trifling compared 
 with the great reward that awaited us in the next world. 
 
 The reaction of the people to the "maggidY' exhortation was 
 such that most of them were willing and ready to depart from this 
 miserable world at once, in order to go to the world of God and 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 141 
 
 His angels, where they could live in glory and happiness for all 
 time to come. 
 
 In Germany I had discovered a religious life that was entirely 
 different. There I found a magnificent, inviting-looking Temple, 
 which had soft, comfortable seats and a clean, wholesome air. 
 The Rabbi, appearing on the platform in dignified robes, his 
 "tallis" woven with silver threads, would deliver a sermon in 
 perfect German on a subject that everyone understood, and to 
 which they enjoyed listening. The services were impressive and 
 inspiring, and the singing of the famous Cantor Altuna and his 
 choir was sublime. In this environment, I almost forgot the wail- 
 ing and the lamenting in the synagogue at home and the tales 
 of the misfortunes that befell the Jews two thousand years ago. 
 I forgot the Hamans, Herods and Hadrians of all ages. 
 
 Mingling now among the people I had known in my childhood, 
 it all came back to me, and I was anxious to attend the meeting 
 where Rabbi Lesser was to be installed, and where he was to 
 deliver his first sermon in Chicago. 
 
 The hall was crowded. The Rabbi spoke for nearly two hours, 
 and had the attention of the audience, but I was rather disap- 
 pointed. True, I had expected that he would preach in a manner 
 and style somewhat similar to that used in the old days, in 
 the small Lithuanian towns; but, nevertheless, I anticipated that, 
 since the world had made considerable progress in the past several 
 years, and since this was America and not Lithuania, he would 
 speak in a more modern manner. 
 
 As it was, he confined himself mainly to the Talmud and its 
 interpretation, and among the many subjects upon which he dwelt 
 was a passage in the Bible from Ecclesiastes, which says: "There 
 is not a righteous man upon earth that doeth good and sinneth 
 not. 
 
 He commented upon the meaning of this phrase, explaining it 
 thus: If a man prays to God, or praises God, he does it because 
 
142 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 he wants to have the good will of the Creator. Or if he helps 
 the poor or gives to charity, while he performs a very good deed, 
 he does so because he knows that people will praise him for it, 
 and that he will "get his reward in Heaven." When he speaks 
 well of somebody, he knows that person will also speak well of 
 him. In other words, if one does good, it is more or less from a 
 selfish motive. 
 
 Rabbi Lesser concluded with the statement that there was only 
 one man who had done a good deed without expecting any re- 
 ward, and that was Father Abraham. Naturally, the audience 
 anxiously waited to hear what it was that he had done, and this 
 is what the Rabbi told us: 
 
 "When Father Abraham married Sarah, he did not do it for 
 the sake of having a companion, or a housekeeper, or a mate, 
 or a home, or for pleasure. Oh, no. Father Abraham married 
 because he felt God would consider it right and proper for him 
 to marry. He chose the one and the real God, and not the many 
 gods of the heathen, who worshipped idols, and he did not expect 
 any reward because of this. That is why God rewarded him, and 
 chose him to be the father of the Jewish nation, as is written 
 in the Bible — 'And I will make of thee a great nation, and I 
 will bless thee, and make thy name great, and thou shalt be a 
 blessing.' " 
 
 While Rabbi Lesser spoke very forcefully, and stirred his 
 audience at the moment, there were many critics who refused to 
 accept his reasons as to why God had chosen Abraham to become 
 the father of Israel. 
 
 It was Rabbi Lesser who organized the first Talmud Torah 
 (Hebrew Free School) in Chicago, under the name of the "Moses 
 Montefiore Hebrew School. " It is still in existence and does fine 
 work in teaching the Bible and Hebrew to the Jewish children 
 of the city. 
 
EARLY CHICAGO . , 143 
 
 In later years, when the Russian government assumed a more 
 liberal attitude towards its people, the Jews also felt a little 
 more secure, and the "maggidim" began to discuss the topics of 
 the day and to speak in a more intelligible manner. The Zionist 
 movement also helped develop a better speaking technique, and 
 soon the general policy of public speakers changed greatly. Rabbi 
 Nathan Bud2iinski, in Chicago, and Reverend Masliansky, in New 
 York, were the first we know of who spoke effectively in the new 
 manner, and they took the people by storm. Many others began 
 to follow their style of speaking. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Eventually, there appeared in Chicago a Yiddish paper, edited 
 and published by a young man named Leon Zolotkoff . He was one 
 of the ""Russian intelligentsia" and a man of high caliber, a bril- 
 liant writer, linguist and Hebraist. 
 
 One of the English newspapers, I believe it was the Chicago 
 Daily News, about that time invited a representative of every 
 nationality to write an article in his own language. The Hebrew 
 article was contributed by the two South Side Rabbis, Dr. Felsen- 
 thai and Dr. Hirsch. It happened that Mr. Zolotkoff and Dr. 
 Hirsch, who did not know each other personally, were in a cer- 
 tain printing office at the same time. Someone asked Mr. Zolot- 
 koff if he knew Hebrew, and when he said he did, he was asked 
 regarding his opinion of the Hebrew articles which had appeared 
 in the English newspaper. Mr. Zolotkoff, not aware that Dr. 
 Hirsch was present, replied that according to his knowledge of 
 Hebrew, Dr. Felsenthal had mastered the language to a certain 
 extent, but that Dr. Hirsch knew almost no Hebrew. 
 
 Dr. Hirsch, who was a great scholar, became enraged upon 
 hearing this remark from a "greenhorn west-sider." As Mr. Zo- 
 lotkoff later informed me, a heated discussion ensued, during the 
 course of which Dr. Hirsch cried: "You don't know English!" 
 To which Mr. Zolotkoff replied: "You don't know Russian!" 
 
144 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "You don't know French and German!" Dr. Hirsch retorted. 
 
 "I am sorry," Mr. Zolotkoff replied, "but I do know French 
 and I do know German, but you don't know Polish, nor do you 
 know Hebrew or the Talmud!" 
 
 When the dispute threatened to become serious, the owner 
 of the establishment separated them. A few days later I read 
 a long article in the Daily Jewish Courier, published by Mr. 
 Zolotkoff, in which he bitingly attacked the German Jews and 
 Dr. Hirsch as only he could. 
 
 I was greatly disturbed by all this, and expressed my views 
 in a letter to the Courier, which I took over in person. It was 
 my pleasure then to meet Mr. Zolotkoff. I showed him my letter, 
 in which I explained the differences between the two factions 
 of the Jewish population, and related my experiences with both. 
 I urged that it was necessary for the West Side Jews to be 
 friendly toward the South Side or German Jews. Mr. Zolotkoff 
 promised to print the letter, but he was determined, he said, to 
 show the German Jews that they were not so important as they 
 thought they were. However, he printed my letter, and did not 
 criticise the German Jews any further. 
 
 Unfortunately, the strained relationship between the two 
 classes of Jews continued to exist, and it is only recently that 
 a better understanding has been reached, through the develop' 
 ment of a spirit of compromise and cooperation. 
 
 That meeting with Mr. Zolotkoff marked the beginning of a 
 friendship which lasted for years. I always admired and respected 
 him for being a gentleman and a scholar, and a fine journalist. 
 He later married and had three sons, Sidney, Hyman and Albert, 
 all fine young people, and a daughter, Julia, who is as brilliant as 
 her father. 
 
 Mr. Zolotkoff, in addition to his other accomplishments, be 
 came a lawyer and served for several years as Assistant State's 
 Attorney under Charles S. Deneen. To my great sorrow, he 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 145 
 
 passed away, in the summer of 1938, and I was called upon to 
 speak at his funeral. 
 
 * * * 
 
 The early Jewish community developed rapidly, and in spite 
 of the long and hard hours of work, the people began to take 
 an interest in cultural matters. One day I was surprised and 
 pleased to read that a Yiddish theater was to be introduced. I 
 could not imagine what it would be like, and awaited the first 
 performance anxiously. 
 
 The play, which was given in a hall on De Koven Street, was 
 called "Caladunia," or "Machashaife" (witch). It was written 
 by a well known Yiddish dramatist, Goldfaden. However, I was 
 greatly disappointed in it. The story was not bad, but it was 
 performed by rank amateurs — Russian-born boys and girls who 
 tried to speak German instead of Yiddish. Their German was 
 bad, and their acting was bad, and the play naturally suffered 
 in consequence. 
 
 That venture, however, served to initiate the era of the Yid' 
 dish Theater, and within a short time it boasted such great actors 
 as Adler, Thomashefsky, Golubuck, Magolesky, Kessler, 
 Schwartz;, and many others. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Fraternal organisations had a great attraction for the people 
 in those days. Lodges were almost as popular as motion pictures 
 are now, and attending lodge meeting in the evening was just as 
 common as going to a movie is at present. 
 
 The president of a lodge was regarded as a man of importance, 
 and even an ordinary member of a lodge was always conscious 
 of the fact that he, too, belonged to an organisation that com- 
 manded dignity and respect. The fact that he was entrusted with 
 the password, and sworn to secrecy about the activities of the 
 lodge, made him consider himself as one different and above the 
 average man. 
 
146 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Practically no conversation would come to an end without the 
 lodge question having been thoroughly discussed. 
 
 "By the way," one man would say, "I want you to join my 
 lodge." 
 
 But before he had a chance to explain the merits thereof, the 
 other would exclaim: "I was just going to ask you to sign an 
 application for membership in my lodge — and here is the blank 
 form to be filled out." 
 
 Then each would proclaim the advantages of his lodge, giving 
 a full list of the benefits that accrued, such as sick benefits, visit- 
 ing sick members, life insurance, mutual aid, attending and offi- 
 ciating at funerals, and so on and so forth. 
 
 The lodge meeting furnished intellectual stimulation and pleas- 
 ant diversion for the great majority of the Jews of the West Side, 
 and there were very few who did not belong to one or two organ- 
 izations, while some were members of enough lodges, both Jewish 
 and general, to keep them busy attending meetings every evening 
 in the week. 
 
 The signs of these various organizations were used frequently 
 as a medium of introduction. People who were strangers would 
 become acquainted and form lasting friendships through exhibit- 
 ing the signs of their lodges. 
 
 I should like to describe a few of these signs, which anyone 
 conversant with lodge ceremonies would notice frequently on 
 the streets, in street cars and trains, and elsewhere. Touching the 
 fingers of the left hand to the right ear was an invitation for a 
 reply by a member of the same lodge, whose response consisted in 
 touching his right eye with his left hand. Or, if a member of a 
 certain lodge had his head up, looking upwards, with two fingers 
 of his hand on his mouth, it was an invitation for a response by 
 another member, indicated by the latter's lowering his head and 
 placing his left hand on his neck. There were some people who 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 147 
 
 belonged to so many lodges that they had almost to perform 
 acrobatic stunts in order to answer all of the signs. 
 
 There were two leading Jewish fraternal organisations in Chi- 
 cago at that time. One was the Independent Order of B'nai Brith, 
 which was considered the organisation for the "higher class" of 
 Jews. It also had a password and signs, but they were more mod' 
 erate and not so complicated as those of other lodges. The other 
 leading fraternal association was known as the Independent Order 
 of Somech Noflim, which means, "assisting the needy" or more 
 literally "supporting the fallen." 
 
 I belonged to both organisations, having first joined the Abram 
 Aub Lodge of the B'nai Brith and later the Golden Eagle Lodge 
 of the Somech Noflim, which had just been formed. I served as 
 president and held other offices in both lodges. 
 
 At first, before I became accustomed to it, the lodge cere' 
 monies, with all the signs, instructions and titles, seemed to me 
 so ridiculous that I felt foolish about taking part, and I always 
 considered it as the play of children. The business part of the 
 meetings consisted of taking roll call, reading the minutes, col- 
 lecting dues, hearing complaints about any of the members, dis- 
 cussing plans for increasing the membership and ways and means 
 of raising money, and reports of committees. Most of it seemed 
 quite unnecessary. 
 
 There were always two guards at the door leading to the en- 
 trance of the lodge, one standing outside the door and the other 
 standing inside. When a member arrived after the lodge was in 
 session, he was confronted by the outside guard, who would rap 
 on the door in a certain manner. The inside guard would then 
 make an announcement about as follows: 
 
 "Brother President, with your permission, I wish to inform 
 you that the outside guard has signaled." 
 
 The president would then say: "You are instructed to ask the 
 meaning of that signal." 
 
148 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 The inside guard would open the wicket and repeat the presi' 
 dent's words to the outside guard, who would then answer: "A 
 stranger who claims to be a brother of a certain lodge desires 
 admission." 
 
 Often the guard would get mixed up in his English, and would 
 translate literally from the Yiddish, saying that the member de' 
 sired "inlet." 
 
 After all this was reported to the president, the visitor would 
 be admitted, and examined by an officer as to his name, pass' 
 word, sign, and so forth. 
 
 I was once fined a dollar for making fun of the questions and 
 answers. I paid it, making another humorous remark, and came 
 very nearly being fined again for this. 
 
 However, I soon realised that these lodges and the meetings 
 were doing a great deal of good for their members, especially for 
 the newcomers. Here they were taught discipline, order, self' 
 control and the use of moderate language, even though the de' 
 bates were usually exciting and quarrelsome. Here they had a 
 chance to become acquainted with others, and they were given 
 the opportunity to face an audience and gain self 'confidence. 
 Here they could always speak their minds, no matter how poor 
 their English was. I spent many, many interesting evenings at 
 these meetings, and took an active and leading part in the pre 
 ceedings. 
 
 I remember one meeting at which the question of arranging 
 a picnic was debated for hours. The treasury was empty, and 
 money was badly needed for sick benefits, hall rent and other 
 expenses. The motion of the treasurer to have a picnic was 
 open for discussion. I spoke against the proposal, giving as my 
 reason that the hard work and expense involved, especially in 
 view of the trouble we had had with hoodlums during the last 
 picnic, would not be worth the little revenue we might realize 
 from the venture. 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 149 
 
 When I finished, the president called on a Mr. Abrams for his 
 opinion, introducing him with a few flattering remarks. 
 
 "We have here," explained the president, "one of our mem' 
 bers who has had a great deal of experience in the matter of 
 picnics. He did excellent work for the picnic we had last year. 
 He was also very active and accomplished good results at the 
 picnics of other lodges of which he is a member. I would there" 
 fore like to ask Brother Abrams for his opinion. " 
 
 Mr. Abrams was a tall, bony man, with a great deal of color 
 in his face. He made a long speech, intermingling English, Hebrew 
 and Roumanian Yiddish. Adopting a superior attitude, he stated 
 that he was of the opinion that we must have a picnic by all 
 means. 
 
 "Although," he added, "I was not very much encouraged by 
 the members of the lodge for the hard work I did at the last 
 picnic — yet I will forget about that, and I will be glad to cooper- 
 ate with the committee that is to be appointed for that pur' 
 pose." 
 
 Here the president interrupted him, asking: "Brother Abrams, 
 what did you mean by the remark that the members did not 
 appreciate the good work that you did at the picnic? I would 
 like to know about it, and no doubt all of the members here 
 would like to hear from you on this matter." 
 
 "Upon your request, Mr. President," said Mr. Abrams, put' 
 ting his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, taking a few steps 
 forward and raising his head as high as he could. 
 
 "Who was it," he inquired, "who procured smoked beef for 
 sandwiches for ten per cent less than the wholesale price, and 
 got five pounds as a gift for the lodge? It was I!" he exclaimed, 
 placing his hand on his breast. 
 
 "Who was it that bought all of the pop at a discount of twenty 
 five per cent, and got ten boxes for nothing?" he continued. 
 "It was I! Who was it that peddled around among the bakers, 
 
150 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 and procured almost all of the bread for the sandwiches without 
 any cost? It was I. Who was it who obtained ten boxes of beer 
 for nothing, and paid for the balance way below the wholesale 
 price? Of course, it was I. And when the drinks and the food 
 were delivered to the picnic place, who was it that watched like 
 a dog and protected it against the hoodlums, lest it be stolen? It 
 was I! 
 
 "But when everything passed off nicely, and the lodge made 
 money, who was given a medal? Was it given to me? Oh, no. It 
 was given to somebody who didn't do one'tenth of the work that 
 I did!" 
 
 Stepping up on the platform, he went on: "Brother President 
 and brothers, don't think for a minute that I care very much 
 for the medal." He unbuttoned his coat, and said: "Here I have 
 four medals pinned on my vest, so you see that I don't need any 
 more. But I want to prove that the members of the lodge do not 
 appreciate the good, hard work that one is doing for the benefit 
 of the lodge." 
 
 All the members felt rather guilty and embarrassed, but no one 
 said anything. 
 
 "Before I sit down," Mr. Abrams continued, "I want to put 
 a question to Mr. Horwich, who is against the picnic." Turning 
 to me, he inquired: "Mr. Horwich, I want to ask you a question. 
 If we have no picnic at all, then we are sure not to make a cent, 
 but if we do have a picnic, we have a chance to make some 
 money. In any event, we have everything to gain and nothing 
 to lose. Then why are you against it?" 
 
 Before I was able to answer, my old friend, Mr. Goldstein, 
 asked for the floor. Turning to Mr. Abrams, he said: 
 
 "I will give you an instance which will answer the question 
 you asked of Mr. Horwich. On the way home from peddling one 
 afternoon, I met another peddler and asked him how business 
 was. He answered that it was so bad that it could not be worse, 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 151 
 
 because he did not sell a cent's worth the whole day long, and 
 had to go home empty-handed. 
 
 " 'Can it be worse, Mr. Goldstein?' he asked me. 
 " 'Yes, it can be worse/ I replied. 1 also did not sell a cent's 
 worth of merchandise, and in addition, while resting on the side- 
 walk, a fellow grabbed two pair of stockings and a few handker- 
 chiefs, which cost me sixty-five cents — so that makes me worse 
 off than you are!' 
 
 "Thus, you see, Mr. Abrams, you are wrong when you say 
 that we have everything to gain and nothing to lose by having a 
 picnic. I know that it can happen, and that it did happen to lodges 
 that held picnics, that they lost money. I know of one lodge that 
 lost over a hundred dollars last year. 
 
 "Therefore," Mr. Goldstein suggested, "I propose that each 
 member be assessed three dollars, or that he should be asked to 
 make a loan of five dollars, if it is decided to have a picnic, so 
 that we will have enough money to work with, and be secured 
 against losses." 
 
 Mr. Goldstein's motion was carried, and each member ad- 
 vanced five dollars. I am sorry to relate that they got back only 
 fifty cents on the dollar. 
 
 I used what influence I had in these lodges to try to bring the 
 West Side Orthodox Jews and the South Side Reformed Jews 
 into closer relationship. I made it a point to bring the matter 
 up at every meeting, and we had long debates on the subject. 
 At first the outlook was not very favorable, but by constantly 
 bringing the matter to the attention of the members, my efforts 
 began to show results. Dr. Hirsch, who had been a strong op- 
 ponent of Orthodox Judaism and rather cold to Orthodox Jews, 
 gradually began to change his attitude. Eventually he came to 
 accept invitations to speak at Orthodox synagogues, and would 
 sometimes even go out of his way to meet the leading representa- 
 tives of Orthodox Jewry, and establish closer contact with them. 
 
152 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Thus a better understanding between the two groups was grad' 
 
 ually brought about. 
 
 I was informed that Mr. Samuel D. Schwartz, executive direc 
 
 tor of Sinai Temple, also had a great deal to do with bringing 
 
 about this more satisfactory state of affairs. A competent, highly 
 
 intelligent and likable individual, he had great influence with Dr. 
 
 Hirsch. Mr. Schwartz has done outstanding work for Sinai Tern- 
 
 pie. A man of ability and learning, he is and has been prominent 
 
 in all religious and educational enterprises in the Jewish com' 
 
 munity. 
 
 * * * 
 
 One day I read in the papers that Chicago and other cities 
 throughout the country were making preparations to celebrate 
 the 400th anniversary of the discovery of America by Columbus. 
 There happened to be a meeting of the Golden Eagle Lodge 
 that evening, and as an officer of the Lodge, I informed the mem' 
 bers of the news and proposed that since we were quite a large 
 organization, with some twelve hundred members and nine 
 branches in Chicago, we ought to consider a plan for taking part 
 in the celebration. After a lengthy debate, it was agreed to 
 appoint a committee, with myself as chairman, to discuss the 
 question and render a report at the next meeting of the Grand 
 Lodge ten days later. 
 
 When the Grand Lodge met, it was decided that a special 
 meeting of representatives of all the lodges be called to take 
 action on the proposal. A few weeks later, this meeting was held, 
 and it lasted until twelve o'clock, so heated was the discussion. 
 It was finally decided that we should participate in the celebra' 
 tion, and I was selected as the head of the undertaking. 
 
 I must say that it proved to be a bigger and more serious job 
 than I had anticipated, and it gave me much more work and 
 trouble than I had bargained for. I had to attend all of the meet' 
 ings of the subcommittees which I had appointed, supervise the 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 153 
 
 raising of money from the several lodges, and outline our program. 
 Above all, we could not run the risk of failing to make a good 
 showing. We had to count on being successful, so that we would 
 not be made a laughing stock in the eyes of the non-Jews, as well 
 as our fellow Jews, in Chicago. 
 
 It was an exciting period for the various groups and nationals 
 ties of the city. All were busy organising and holding meetings 
 and making plans. The activities involved kept me from my busi- 
 ness and from the company of my intimate friends for weeks. 
 But when the great day finally came, we were ready and in 
 splendid form. 
 
 The Marshal of the demonstration, if I remember rightly, was 
 General Miles. We all assembled on Michigan Avenue, between 
 22nd Street and Roosevelt Road, and each group knew its place. 
 Our group, which was assigned to the middle of the procession, 
 consisted of about nine hundred people, and our marching order 
 was as follows: First came a company on horseback, with myself 
 at the head, preceded by a band. Next came several hundred men 
 wearing top hats and uniform ties and coats, and carrying canes 
 which were all alike. Behind them marched another band, and 
 then came representatives of each lodge, all dressed as nearly 
 alike as possible, with white gloves and colored canes. We 
 marched eight abreast, and in order to keep in line, each man held 
 his cane horizontally, so that the man next to him could hold the 
 end of it with his right hand, while holding the end of his own 
 cane with his left hand. The procession lasted from noon until six 
 o'clock in the evening. 
 
 It goes without saying that I was extremely nervous and fearful 
 lest we fail to make a favorable impression. I could see thousands 
 of people standing along the curbs on each side of Michigan 
 Avenue, applauding the marchers as they passed by, and I won- 
 dered how we would be received when they recognized a Jewish 
 group, with the flag of our fraternal organization beside the 
 
154 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 American flag. I was happily surprised at the reception given us, 
 however, and deeply stirred when I observed that we received 
 more applause than any of the groups ahead of us or behind us. 
 
 Going west on Adams Street, we reached the Federal Building, 
 and there saw President Harrison on the balcony, with many of 
 the notables of Chicago. Just as we approached the spot, I turned 
 and faced my group, and commanded a halt. They obeyed, and I 
 then shouted that everyone should give three cheers for the Presi' 
 dent of the United States, and for the American flag. When the 
 cheers subsided, the President arose, and lifting a glass, stated 
 that he was drinking to the health and happiness of the people of 
 Chicago. It was thrilling to me, and apparently to all present. As 
 we resumed our march, the applause was so great that I could 
 not manage my horse, and two policemen had to come to my 
 assistance to help quiet him. 
 
 When it was all over, our organisation was considered to have 
 made the best showing. I was proud and pleased. 
 
 The Chicago Daily News printed an article about the parade, 
 and included a picture of me, which I believe was the first picture 
 of a West Side Jew to be printed in a Chicago paper. Contrary 
 to all expectations, said the article, the group of Jewish people 
 had made a fine appearance. Unfortunately, the majority of the 
 people thought of all Jews as peddlers with beards, and could 
 not imagine that we could look so fine. 
 
 At the next meeting of our lodge, some of the officers of the 
 Grand Lodge addressed us, lauding us highly for our perform' 
 ance. One speaker stated that he had heard from a good many 
 non Jews that they never realised there were Jews of our type on 
 the West Side, having thought we were all of the crude, ignorant, 
 peddler type. They were surprised to see such fine looking men, 
 riding on horses and marching in order, straight and erect as 
 soldiers. 
 
EARLY CHICAGO 155 
 
 The splendid impression we made helped to bring about a better 
 understanding between the West Side and the South Side Jews, 
 for which I was very thankful. We had been a great surprise to 
 them, it seems, as they had not believed we could accomplish 
 something of which they could be proud or that would redound 
 to the credit of Jews in general. 
 
 Although we had been most successful in our purpose, which 
 was to show the Jew in a better light, I was sorry to find that 
 some jealousy had been aroused among the members of our organ' 
 isation. One of the men whom I had defeated in being chosen as 
 chairman of the undertaking visited the various lodges and de' 
 plored the fact that the demonstration had cost the organisation 
 about a thousand dollars. He claimed it was money thrown away, 
 and that the only purpose it served was to further my ambition 
 to become the president of the Grand Lodge. When I was later 
 nominated for that office, I declined to accept, because of these 
 malicious charges. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 FAMILY AND FRIENDS 
 
 One day I received a letter from home, stating that two of 
 my younger brothers, David and Sam, were on their way to Chi" 
 cago. I was greatly surprised, and torn between joy and anxiety. 
 I was overjoyed to know that I would have two of my brothers 
 with me, that we would not be lonely, and would be able to speak 
 our hearts to each other — yet I was worried regarding their 
 future. I knew they would have to start out as I did — as "green" 
 horns" — and would encounter many difficulties in trying to earn 
 a living. I, at least, had had some experience of life, but they had 
 none. Many a night I spent thinking it over, and worrying how 
 things would turn out. At last they arrived. 
 
 David proved to be a very nice, straightforward, honest indi" 
 vidual, with the characteristics of my father. He possessed good 
 common sense and was easygoing, gentle and contented, and I 
 knew he would be satisfied with anything that came along. He 
 had a fine personality, and was liked by all who knew him. 
 
 My brother, Sam, was tall, strong and good'looking, but he 
 had my mother's nature, being of a worrying and pessimistic dis' 
 position, although a very hard worker and very likable. 
 
 I encouraged both of them as much as possible. I told them 
 how very hard it would be in the beginning, but that I would 
 help them in every way, and that in time everything would turn 
 out all right. I placed both of them as boarders in the home of a 
 Mr. Cohen, who lived in the same block I did, on Liberty Street. 
 He was a manufacturer of iron hooks for meat packers, and was 
 doing fairly well. Mr. Cohen was a small, stout man, honest, 
 good hearted and full of life, and enjoyed talking politics and 
 praising the Republican party. He and his wife accepted my 
 brothers with open arms, and did everything they could to make 
 their lives as pleasant as possible. 
 
 156 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 157 
 
 My brother, David, I started out in my line — peddling, buy 
 ing forty or fifty dollars' worth of merchandise for him. I took 
 him with me, and from nine o'clock until twelve, I watched the 
 horse and wagon while he took the street I indicated to him, 
 following him as he went from one house to another. At one place 
 he stayed quite a long time, and when I drove over to see what 
 was keeping him, I saw him emerge with a big smile. He had 
 sold two suits of flannel underwear, earning a dollar on the sale. 
 I felt he had done enough work for one day and suggested 
 going home, but he was so enthusiastic over his success that he 
 insisted on continuing. This was the first money he had ever 
 earned. 
 
 I was tempted, as I told Mr. Goldstein that evening, to plant 
 some customers for David to bolster him up the next day, had 
 I known how to do so. However, as it proved, this was hardly 
 necessary, for David was full of courage and worked hard. He 
 worked so hard, in fact, that I was afraid for his health; but he 
 refused to cut down on the load which he was carrying, and soon 
 he was making enough to contribute toward the allowance we 
 sent home to our parents. 
 
 My brother, Sam, was too young to start out for himself, and 
 I was anxious to give him the advantage of a little schooling. 
 Accordingly, I engaged a teacher to instruct him in English, in 
 the afternoons, besides which he attended evening school. He 
 spent his mornings helping in a small bottle business that I had 
 started in the basement of the house in which he lived, about 
 three or four months before my brothers arrived. 
 
 I embarked in that business through a strange coincidence. It 
 happened that Robert Perlman, the brother of my ex-partner, 
 Max Perlman, had come to Chicago some time after I did, but 
 I knew nothing about it. Instead of beginning as a peddler, as 
 
158 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 did most newcomers, he started out in the bottle business, and 
 made his home on the North Side. He employed a man by the 
 name of Rubenzik, who had also come from Koenigsberg. The 
 latter, knowing I was in Chicago, looked me up. In the course of 
 our conversation, he mentioned that he was working for Robert 
 Perlman. He went on to say that he was dissatisfied with him, and 
 with the work, and suggested that I go into that business, and 
 that he would be glad to do the work for me, if I financed it. I 
 acted on his suggestion, and by the time my brothers arrived, I 
 was earning a satisfactory extra income from that business. Mr. 
 Rubensik bought the old bottles and handled the hauling and 
 cleaning, while I did the selling and financing. 
 
 I put Sam to helping Mr. Rubensik, paying him five dollars 
 a week, in addition to paying for his room and board. Thus 
 he had enough money for necessities and was able to continue his 
 schooling. 
 
 Several months later, I decided to give up peddling and devote 
 all my time to the bottle business, as it promised excellent pos- 
 sibilities. I turned my peddling business over to my brother, 
 David, and rented a place on Halsted Street, near Polk, where 
 I could operate on a larger scale in the bottle business, and within 
 the next five or six years became quite successful in that line. 
 
 That site has since become famous throughout the country — 
 not because of my bottle business, but because a certain group 
 of women wanted to establish there a social center for the poor 
 of the neighborhood — known as Hull House. 
 
 Although I had a long-term lease for the premises, who could 
 resist the pleas of these charming ladies, in their desire to serve 
 humanity? I agreed to find another location. 
 
 In time, David found traveling with a pack of dry goods too 
 hard, and I arranged to have him and Mr. Goldstein also embark 
 in the bottle business. They managed it very satisfactorily, Mr. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 159 
 
 Goldstein working inside and David on the outside, and they did 
 
 fairly well. 
 
 * * * 
 
 About that time, the serious matter of matrimony unexpectedly 
 confronted me, and it came about indirectly through my brother, 
 Harris, in this way: 
 
 I was informed that Rabbi Anixter, the Rabbi of the so-called 
 "Large Synagogue" on Clark Street, had a letter for me, which 
 turned out to be from Harris. He had sent it from Odessa, 
 where he had been employed as a bookkeeper in a wholesale hard- 
 ware firm. He stated that he was on his way to America, although 
 he intended to go first to Palestine. Having lost my address, he 
 hit upon the idea of sending his letter to Rabbi Anixter, in Chi- 
 cago, asking him to try to locate me and see that I received it. 
 It was on this occasion that I met the Rabbi's daughter, May. 
 
 The thought of marriage had not heretofore entered my mind, 
 although I had many friends among the West Side girls, whom I 
 met at the community's social functions, or "balls," as they were 
 called. Dancing was then the chief pastime of the young people, 
 and wishing to become proficient, I had taken lessons from Pro- 
 fessor Kretlow, one of the best dancing teachers in Chicago at 
 the time. I soon acquired the art, and spent many enjoyable eve- 
 nings in this diversion, and was frequently complimented on my 
 dancing. 
 
 It was interesting for me to find that in this country the prob- 
 lem of matrimony was handled quite differently from the way 
 it was managed in Europe. There the young people did not have 
 much to say about it, as it was considered the duty of the par- 
 ents to arrange the marriages. 
 
 In this connection, the son was regarded as an asset, while the 
 daughter was considered a liability. The main problem parents 
 had with regard to a son was to get him freed from military 
 service, and after this was accomplished, the young man was 
 
160 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 greatly in demand, especially if his parents were of the "upper" 
 class, either financially or culturally. 
 
 The "shadchen," or marriage broker, would at once get busy 
 and bring to the parents a list of names of prospective brides, 
 from which they could make their selection. In most cases, when 
 a young man married, his future was practically assured. He was 
 either taken into business by his father-in-law, or given sufficient 
 dowry to start in business for himself, or was taken into his 
 wife's home as one of the family, and provided with all of the 
 necessities of life for years. Of course, this procedure applied 
 only to the well- to-do and to the middle class Jews. The poor sim- 
 ply got married, and had to rely on fate to take care of them. 
 
 An amusing incident in this connection comes to mind. About 
 five years after I had left home, David had written to inform me 
 that my childhood friend, Berke, son of Zavel, who had been my 
 partner in the incident with Herr Ashfort, had just been married. 
 The marriage, he wrote, took place in July, and Berke's wedding 
 gift from his parents-in-law consisted of a winter overcoat, a pair 
 of rubbers and an umbrella. Apparently without realising the 
 humor of the situation, David went on to describe how Berke 
 had gone through the town with his bride, wearing his overcoat 
 and rubbers, and carrying his umbrella, as the people of the town 
 admired him, his bride and the gifts. 
 
 I read the letter to some of my friends, and of course they 
 all laughed at the description of the bridegroom dressed like that 
 in July. However, I explained to them how innocent the writer 
 of the letter was — that he considered the gifts themselves inter- 
 esting and important, so that the situation did not seem absurd 
 to him. 
 
 Here in America, I was surprised to find that the parents had 
 very little to say regarding the marriage of their children. The 
 most important person concerned was the girl. A boy had to 
 take lessons on how to approach a girl. He would have to take 
 
MRS. BERNARD HORWICH (Wife of the Author) 
 

FAMILY AND FRIENDS 161 
 
 her out to theatres, parties and dances, bring her flowers and 
 feed her candy and ice cream. After a year or so, he had to pro- 
 pose to her formally, and obtain the consent of her parents. Fol- 
 lowing the engagement, he was supposed to give her some valua- 
 ble gift of jewelry, and then he was settled for good. If he learned 
 that he had made a mistake, he could not change his mind, but 
 had to go through with the marriage — or stand the consequences 
 of a suit for breach of promise or serious difficulties with the girl's 
 relatives. 
 
 Among my young contemporaries, the most important require- 
 ment was that one speak English well and without an accent. 
 A girl who could do so was considered a splendid catch, and 
 if, besides, she was American born, she stood ace high and was 
 still more in demand. 
 
 The Rabbi's daughter, May, had such qualifications. She was 
 born in this country, could speak and write English well, and 
 could also speak Yiddish fluently. The fact that she was the 
 daughter of a Rabbi added dignity to her other qualities, for 
 an Orthodox Rabbi was then especially regarded with great re- 
 spect and reverence. 
 
 My friends were very much interested, and pointed out that 
 I ought to consider it an honor to have a Rabbi as a father-in-law, 
 and that my parents would be overjoyed with such a marriage. 
 Although I was attracted to her by her own fine qualities, I must 
 admit that these comments had some influence with me. I vis- 
 ited her quite often, cultivating a closer friendship, and we were 
 soon engaged. Six months later, on January 2, 1887, we were 
 married. 
 
 The wedding took place in Clare's Hall, on the near North 
 Side. It was considered a "high-class" place at that time. Dinner 
 was served to several hundred guests, and the festivities lasted 
 until two o'clock in the morning. 
 
162 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Although I had visited my fiancee often, I did not get to know 
 my prospective father-in-law very well during this period. When- 
 ever I came to the house, I found that he had either gone to the 
 synagogue — or, if at home, that he was busy speaking to peo- 
 ple, or studying the Talmud, or occupied otherwise. After my 
 marriage, however, I became better acquainted with the Rabbi 
 and his wife, and found them both interesting characters. 
 
 My mother-in-law, whose name was Basse, which in English 
 would be "Betty,' ' was the typical wife of an Orthodox Rabbi 
 of the old school. She was very sensible, pious and God-fearing, 
 and reserved in manner. Like all women of her type, she consid- 
 ered her function in life was to look after the comfort of her 
 husband, and to work from morning until night at housekeeping 
 and the rearing of her children. She had four daughters and one 
 son. She lived to be over ninety years of age, and during the 
 last fourteen years of her widowhood made her home with me. 
 
 I remember one evening, shortly after the cessation of the 
 World War, when we had several prominent people at our home 
 for dinner, a discussion arose as to the causes of the war. Each 
 of our guests gave a different reason. One of them asked my old 
 mother-in-law jokingly: 
 
 "Grandmother, what do you think was the reason for this ter- 
 rible war? 11 
 
 Unhesitatingly, she replied: "The trouble with people nowa- 
 days is that they are not religious. They have no faith in God. 
 They do not pray. They do not go in the ways of God. Instead 
 of that, they are jealous of each other. They envy anyone who 
 has better clothes, better furniture in his house, or an automobile. 
 This jealousy arouses a passion in people to try to get ahead of 
 one another. This causes friction, and that is why we had the 
 World War." 
 
 Everybody smiled indulgently, but Mr. Nahum Sokolow, who 
 was one of the guests, explained that, while the answer of the 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 163 
 
 aged woman might sound funny, she was entirely right, except 
 that she had expressed it in her own way, from the standpoint 
 of the individual — that if one enlarged upon the subject and 
 talked about nations instead of individuals, he would see that 
 it was just the same. 
 
 "England," he added, "was jealous in that Germany had 
 too powerful an army. Germany envied England because she had 
 too powerful a navy. Russia wanted to get more territory. France 
 wanted to take away some provinces. All this jealousy and the 
 eagerness of one nation to get ahead of the other was what 
 brought on the war, and thus she is right.'" 
 
 I recall another incident which demonstrates her good sense. 
 Her husband had an expensive cane with a gold head, which had 
 been presented to him by the members of the synagogue. One 
 afternoon the cane disappeared, after the colored scrubwoman 
 had cleaned the house. While Mrs. Anixter suspected the woman, 
 she was not sure of her guilt. The next day, when the woman 
 came for her pay, she simply remarked: 
 
 "My husband's expensive cane has disappeared. It seems that 
 somebody has taken it, and while we don't care about the loss 
 of the cane, I am sorry for the one who took it, because I know 
 that anyone who steals something from a Jewish Rabbi, or from 
 any religious person, will die within that year — or will meet 
 with some other terrible trouble. " 
 
 The poor colored woman seemed frightened, and mumbled all 
 kinds of questions as to the truth of the statement. She left hur- 
 riedly, and that afternoon someone threw the cane into a back 
 room of the apartment, through the open window. 
 
 Before leaving for a visit to Palestine in the year 1927, I bade 
 my pious old mother'in'law farewell. She was quite ill at the time, 
 and I admonished her to take care of herself. 
 
 "I am old enough to die, 11 she told me. "But I will not die until 
 you bring back to me some of the sacred sand of Palestine. 11 
 
164 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "Then I had better not bring you any, so that you may go on 
 living," I said. 
 
 But she pleaded with me and insisted that I do so. 
 
 Strangely enough, only a few months after I returned with the 
 precious sand, Mrs. Anixter took sick and died. Her wish was 
 fulfilled, and she was laid to rest with the bag of sand from Pales- 
 tine beneath her head. 
 
 As I have stated before, my father-in-law, Rabbi Anixter, was 
 a man of great piety and learning, open and aboveboard in every 
 respect. However, he did have a temper, and would not be crossed 
 or contradicted by anyone. Arguing with him was futile. 
 
 One cold afternoon, I happened to be in his neighborhood and 
 went up to see him. I found him alone in the house, trying to 
 explain to a colored boy what to do with a sack of coal the 
 latter had brought into the house. He was talking in Yiddish, 
 and, of course, the boy did not understand him. The Rabbi be- 
 came impatient at having to spend his valuable time with a little 
 urchin. I soon found out what he wanted, and instructed the boy 
 what to do. 
 
 I then started a discussion with my father-in-law, asking him 
 — since he was busy studying day in and day out — why he did 
 not spend one or two hours a week learning the English language, 
 so that he would have no trouble understanding what the colored 
 boy wanted to know about where to place the coal. 
 
 He shot back this answer: "You want me to study the language 
 of that colored boy. Why don't you tell him that he should study 
 my language?"' ' 
 
 "But, Father," I said, "this is the language of the country. It 
 is your duty to know it." 
 
 "I have no answer for a fool like you," he retorted. 
 
 Undeterred, I then cited a sentence from the Psalms, which 
 says, "Answer the fool according to his foolishness." 
 
 "You might answer me accordingly," I suggested. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 165 
 
 But he came right back at me, saying: "That sentence was 
 meant for the ordinary fools, or for the general run of fools, but 
 not for such an exceptional fool as you are." 
 
 It was told of him that he used to get up every morning be 
 tween four and five o'clock, and go to the synagogue to study 
 and pray until breakfast time. One morning, he was held up by 
 two young men, who searched his pockets and found a quarter. 
 One of them spoke German, and asked: 
 
 "Where are you going, old man?" 
 
 The Rabbi replied: "I am going to the synagogue to pray." 
 
 "What are you praying for?" the man inquired. 
 
 "I am praying," retorted the Rabbi, "that God should help all 
 men, that they should be able to make a decent living, and that 
 they should not have to go around on the streets at night to 
 hold up people and rob them, as you do, and then be arrested and 
 go to prison." 
 
 "You had better give him back that quarter," the second man 
 remarked. "He is a dangerous guy." 
 
 The quarter was returned, and the Rabbi was permitted to go 
 his way. 
 
 One day, when I called at his house, I observed a large number 
 of books in a corner, piled up almost to the ceiling. I asked him 
 what they were, and he said the books contained his own crea' 
 tion — a commentary which he had written on some parts of 
 the Talmud, and the books had just come from the publisher. 
 
 I opened one of the books and looked at it, upon which he 
 remarked: 
 
 "What is the use of your looking into it? Your ignorant head 
 cannot understand anything in there, any more than a goose." 
 
 "Maybe so," I replied, "but here is something that I do under' 
 stand." 
 
 "Well," he said, "prove it to me. Go ahead and read." 
 
166 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I read to him a paragraph from the book, which stated that it 
 is forbidden for anyone to enter an old, dilapidated dwelling that 
 looks like a ruin, and three reasons are given for this admonition: 
 First, because it is dangerous — the building is liable to cave in. 
 Secondly, because there may be ghosts. Thirdly, he may be sus- 
 pected of having been there with a woman. 
 
 "Ah," he said, "so you do know something, eh? Well, if so, 
 have you any comments to make on it?" 
 
 He wanted to see whether I would make the same comments as 
 he had on this paragraph. 
 
 "I think I have," I answered. 
 
 "Well," he said, "what is it?" 
 
 "The third reason," I told him, "was not necessary, for where 
 will you find a man so crasy as to date up a woman to go with 
 him into an old, dilapidated ruin, which is likely to crash in at 
 any minute?" 
 
 He understood that I was joking, and threw the book in my 
 face. 
 
 Having heard that I occasionally spoke at various meetings, 
 he once expressed a desire to hear me, and I invited him to come 
 on the next such occasion. He listened attentively to my talk, 
 and when I afterward asked his opinion, he remarked: 
 
 "If I could speak as well as you, I would speak better than 
 you. 
 
 This is an instance of how the Talmudic mind works. His 
 meaning was that if he had my command of the language, he 
 would have done better than I did. 
 
 Another anecdote regarding this venerable man comes to 
 mind. Harris and I took him to visit the old Hebrew Institute, 
 and he was shocked to observe in the entrance-way the likeness 
 of a partially clothed female. 
 
 "Pooh! A naked woman!" he exclaimed. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 167 
 
 "How do you know, Rabbi," inquired Harris, smiling, "that 
 this is the portrait of a woman? 1 ' An Orthodox Rabbi was not 
 supposed to be familiar with such things. 
 
 "Because I can see that it is not a man!" flashed back the 
 quick-witted Rabbi. 
 
 Years afterward, when my oldest son brought his fiancee to 
 meet him, he remarked to her discomfiture: 
 
 "I see people have been telling lies about you. They say you 
 are good-looking." 
 
 The poor girl did not know just how to take this. It happens 
 that she was actually nice-looking, and the Rabbi, in his own way, 
 had paid her a compliment. 
 
 About seven or eight months after Rabbi Anixter became my 
 father-in-law, he came to my office to seek my advice about two 
 matters. One was concerning a sum of $265.00, which he had 
 saved up and wished to invest, so that he could use the income 
 to aid poor families; and the other was concerning the divorce of 
 his daughter, Sarah. 
 
 I told him that the best and safest thing for him to do with 
 the money would be to deposit it with the First National Bank, 
 where he would receive three per cent interest. This he abso- 
 lutely refused to consider, maintaining that he would take no 
 interest from anybody. I tried to argue with him, and as usual, he 
 lost his temper and shouted at me: 
 
 "Do you expect a Rabbi to take interest?" 
 
 "Well," I asked him, "what do you want to do — keep the 
 money in the bank without interest?" This did not appeal to 
 him. 
 
 He then suggested that, since I dealt with that bank, and they 
 knew me well, I should ask them to take him in as a partner, and 
 pay him the profit on his $265.00 investment. I finally explained 
 to him, after vainly trying to convince him that this was not 
 feasible, that it would not look well for his congregation to have 
 
168 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 a Rabbi who was a partner in the First National Bank. I in- 
 formed him, however, that he could buy stock in the bank with 
 his money, but warned him that the stock might go up or down, 
 so that there might be a loss instead of a profit. He didn't want 
 that, either. 
 
 After a further discussion, I suggested that he become a part' 
 ner in my business, and that I would pay him a profit according 
 to his investment. He agreed to this, with the understanding that 
 I meant exactly what I said — that it would be a business proposi' 
 tion, and not a matter of taking interest. The question was set' 
 tied, and every sixty days I sent him a check for a few dollars, 
 together with some figures purporting to show his profits. 
 
 He then discussed the matter of the divorce. His daughter had 
 married a cigar maker, named Sam Jervits, who had been reared 
 in this country and had gone through school. The fact that he 
 was " Americanized" was very important to her. Like many of her 
 friends, she had passed up fine young men who were in business 
 and doing well, but who were "greenhorns." Soon after their 
 marriage, Sam lost his job, got into bad company and frittered 
 away what money he had saved up. He was unable to find another 
 job, and they had to part. 
 
 I had studied the Jewish divorce laws in the Talmud, but had 
 never actually witnessed the ceremony, and upon Rabbi Anixter's 
 request, willingly agreed to assist Sarah in the proceedings. The 
 civil divorce suit was pending at the time, and the Court had 
 indicated the decree would be granted. It was agreed that as 
 soon as the Jewish divorce was granted, the husband was to re' 
 ceive the sum of $50.00 from my hands. 
 
 At the time appointed, I went to the home of the Rabbi who 
 was to officiate. He lived on Wilson Street, in three small, very 
 uninviting rooms. Waiting to assist him with the case were five 
 typical East'European Jews. One was to act as the secretary, 
 writing the divorce in script, as required. Another was to die 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 169 
 
 tate it, and a third was to act as watcher, to see that the spell' 
 ing was correct. The remaining two men were to be witnesses. 
 
 After waiting several hours, the formalities were finally be' 
 gun. Each of the assistants took his proper place, and the hus' 
 band stood on one side of the room, with his wife facing him 
 on the other side. The Rabbi, a little man with a long beard, held 
 a book in his hands, which he consulted as he gave the husband 
 his instructions. 
 
 "I will ask you some questions," he said, "to which you must 
 answer the truth. During the proceedings, you must not talk 
 about anything else, but only answer 'Yes' or 'No. 1 " 
 
 The Rabbi then started the ceremony, asking: "Your name 
 is Sam Jervits, the son of this and this man? Answer." 
 
 "Yes," was the reply. 
 
 "This woman, Sarah," the Rabbi continued, "the daughter of 
 Rabbi Anixter, is your wife? Answer." 
 
 "Yes," said Sam. 
 
 "You, the husband of this wife, are willing to divorce her? 
 Answer." 
 
 "Provided I get my fifty dollars!" exclaimed the husband. 
 
 Right there everything stopped. 
 
 "I told you not to talk about anything else," the Rabbi scolded. 
 
 The proceedings had to be started over from the beginning. 
 When the same question was put to him again, Sam hesitated for 
 a moment, and then turned to me. 
 
 "Can I rely on you for the fifty bucks?" he asked. 
 
 Again the ceremony had to be started over. When this had 
 happened several more times, because Sam would not stick to a 
 "Yes" or "No" answer, the Rabbi became very angry and threat' 
 ened to give up the case altogether unless he followed instruc 
 tions implicitly. 
 
 I assured Sam, by showing him the money, that he would get 
 it as promised, and he finally answered all the questions properly. 
 
170 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 During all this time, Sarah stood and trembled for fear he 
 would back out. Finally all formalities were satisfactorily com- 
 pleted, and the Rabbi handed the decree of divorce to Sam. He 
 and his wife were then instructed to stand near to each other, 
 and Sarah was told to hold out both hands to receive the decree 
 from her husband. As soon as she had the paper in her hands, she 
 grasped it and ran away, exclaiming happily, "Thank God. Now 
 I am free!" She is still free, never having remarried. 
 
 Sarah proved to be very sensible and able. She studied nursing 
 and eventually was engaged as chief nurse in the Chicago Home 
 for Jewish Orphans, in which capacity she remained for forty 
 years, and was then pensioned. 
 
 My brother, David, soon followed my example, and married 
 Eva Cohen, the daughter of his landlord. He was really too young 
 for such a venture, but Eva was a very lovely girl — and he no 
 doubt also was influenced by our father's advice to him in his 
 letters that he marry and settle down, in accordance with the 
 dictates of the Bible. I am glad to record that the marriage turned 
 out very well, and they were blessed with splendid children. 
 
 No sooner was David married, than I received a wire from New 
 York, stating that Harris was on his way to Chicago. Going to 
 the station to meet him, I pictured him as he was when I left home 
 — an intelligent, lively, good-looking, carefree youngster. 
 
 When he got off the train, lo and behold, we saw before us a 
 mature man, with a beard, who was married and the father of 
 two daughters. 
 
 As we were leaving the railroad station, his first remark was: 
 "You know, you have here one of the greatest seas of sweet 
 water that I know of, namely, Lake Michigan. " 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 171 
 
 Looking up at the sun, and figuring his position, he then 
 pointed and said: "Lake Michigan should be in about this direc- 
 tion." He was correct. 
 
 We were very proud of our brother, Harris. There wasn't a 
 worthwhile book which he had not read. There wasn't a writer, 
 journalist, scientist, statesman, artist, painter or philosopher that 
 he did not know by name and by his works. He was a brilliant 
 Talmudist and could speak German, Hebrew, Russian, Polish, 
 Yiddish and English, and had a good knowledge of French. He 
 was a scholar and a philosopher, but above all, he was a humor- 
 ist and an optimist, and was always busy thinking up some good 
 joke on himself or someone else. His greatest enjoyment in life 
 was to read books, drink tea, smoke cigarettes, and discuss well 
 known figures in history. I enjoyed every minute when I was 
 with him, and from the day he arrived in Chicago until the time 
 he closed his eyes forever, there was hardly a time, except when 
 I was out of the city, that we were not together. 
 
 Once, at a Zionist luncheon in New York, which I attended, 
 Mr. Nahum Sokolow, one of the foremost of the Jewish intel- 
 lectuals, addressed the group. Pointing to me, he said: 
 
 "This man has a brother in Chicago who is one of the great- 
 est, if not the greatest intellectual Jew in the United States." 
 
 It did not take Harris long to master the English language 
 and to become adjusted to his new environment. We opened a 
 bottle shop for him on Canal Street, and thus we four brothers 
 were all in the same line of business. 
 
 Four or five weeks after Harris' arrival, I took him to a Yid- 
 dish theater on Jefferson Street, in the Metropolitan Hall. The 
 play dealt with the usual theme of such productions — the girl 
 was in love with a young man, whom her father wanted her 
 to give up for another of his choice. Harris was bored. He liked 
 neither the play nor the acting. Finally, he exclaimed: 
 
172 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "You know, the boy that the father has chosen for his daughter 
 seems to be a nice, good fellow, and she should marry him; but 
 she refuses him, just because his mustache is not stylish enough. 
 She shows that she does not merit any attention. Therefore, there 
 is nothing further for me to do here, so let's go." 
 
 I burst out laughing, and we got up and left as the people in 
 the audience stared at us. 
 
 It happened that a Republican campaign was in progress for 
 the election of various officials, including members of the Board 
 of Tax Equalisation. Being now an American citizen, I felt im' 
 portant, and was interested in attending political meetings. As it 
 was known that I was a Republican, I was invited to attend a 
 meeting of that party to be held on a Sunday afternoon in a 
 hall on Canal Street. The main speaker and candidate was a 
 young West Side Jew, named Sol Simon. I thought this would 
 be a good opportunity for Harris to learn something about the 
 political system of this country, and asked him to come with me. 
 Harris was both impressed and amused with it all, so much so 
 that he described the proceedings in detail in a Hebrew letter 
 to some of his ccintellectuals in Russia, Bialik, Ginsberg, and 
 Frischman. 
 
 The chairman of the meeting was a short, stout veterinarian, 
 who attempted to be humorous. 
 
 "Friends," he said to the audience in Yiddish, upon introducing 
 Mr. Simon, "just look at this candidate — an obscure, insignifi- 
 cant fellow who knows almost nothing about politics. His busi' 
 ness also amounts to very little. He is a petty notion trader. All 
 in all, we see before us just a little immigrant Jew, who amounts 
 to nothing — but the Republican party is such a great and lib' 
 eral organisation that it wants to give everybody a fair chance 
 and a square deal. Therefore, they have placed this simple little 
 fellow on the ticket as a member of the Board of Equalisation. " 
 
 Here a voice from the audience broke in: "No matter how lit' 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 173 
 
 tie the candidate is, how can he be put on someone's 'board?' ' 
 The English word "board" sounds the same as the Yiddish word 
 for "beard." 
 
 Of course, it was Harris who had made this remark, and it 
 was evident that the introduction of the candidate had the same 
 effect upon him as had the performance at the Yiddish theater. 
 
 The poor little candidate was very nervous and uncomfort- 
 able at this joke at his expense. He seemed at a loss as to how to 
 act. Should he take it good-naturedly, or should he show his dis- 
 approval of such an introduction? It turned out, however, that 
 he was not such a lamb as the chairman had indicated him to be. 
 He arose, and in a clear voice, using good English, and in a good- 
 humored manner, spoke as follows: 
 
 "Mr. Chairman," he said, "you are a veterinarian, coming in 
 contact every day with sick horses. You may or may not be a 
 good judge of horses' ailments. But let me tell you that you 
 know very little about politics and about making speeches, espe- 
 cially at a meeting of Republicans, where everyone present is a 
 good American citizen and a gentleman. Your attempt to be 
 funny at somebody else's expense does not fit here. It may be 
 proper in your stable, where your audience consists of outworn 
 nags and shady horse traders, but not here. 
 
 "Furthermore, I want you to understand that a public office 
 is a dignified and respectable trust, and if a political party selects 
 a man for such an office, that man must be worthy. Therefore, 
 the chairman of a meeting where such an office is being discussed 
 should also at least be a gentleman." 
 
 Mr. Simon spoke for half an hour, and had the audience with 
 him from beginning to end. When he finished, they applauded 
 him for several minutes. He was subsequently elected, and be- 
 came quite a political leader, the first, in fact, among the Jews 
 on the West Side. Unfortunately, however, his frail body could 
 
174 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 not stand the strain of his many duties, and he became ill and 
 
 died. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Coming home one evening, I was greatly surprised to find a 
 young man sitting in the kitchen. He did not answer when I 
 spoke to him in English. 
 
 "He claims that he knew you in Poniemon," Harris in- 
 formed me. 
 
 I finally recognised him to be our brother, Henry. Great was 
 our joy in now being five brothers here together. 
 
 Henry had a long story to tell about his experience. He had 
 been in the manufacturing business, he told us, in Odessa, Russia, 
 making children's beds. Because of political persecution of the 
 Jews in that city, he had to leave hurriedly. He had turned his 
 place of business over to someone else, and getting together as 
 much money as he could, had come to America. 
 
 Now we had another problem. What was to be done with 
 Henry? However, after four weeks, I was able to obtain work for 
 him in a steel tool factory. It was a German concern, and the 
 workmen spoke German, which made it pleasant for him, and 
 he got along very well. He started at twelve dollars a week, and 
 within the next few months was earning eighteen dollars a week. 
 
 Considering all the circumstances, we got along fairly well, 
 although Harris and Henry were at times unhappy because their 
 families were still in Europe. That was a problem to be solved 
 later. Until his family came over, Harris lived with me, and 
 Henry also lived with us for a time. 
 
 Soon we had another newcomer, Tillie Horwich, a cousin of 
 ours — the daughter of my mother's brother. She was nineteen 
 years old, good-looking, and a girl of fine character. She could 
 read and write Yiddish, which was considered quite an accom- 
 plishment. Cousin Tillie stayed with us for about two years, 
 and then married a Mr. Kats, who ran a grocery store in the 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 175 
 
 neighborhood. We were all very fond of her, and regarded her 
 as one of the closest members of the family. A short time later, 
 two of her sisters, with their husbands and children, came over, 
 and the family kept increasing. 
 
 Having accumulated a little surplus money, I followed the gen' 
 eral custom, and decided to buy a house. Through a real estate 
 man, I bought a house on Halsted Street, which I sold eight 
 months later at a profit of fifteen hundred dollars. 
 
 I then invested in a three'Story brick building on Forquier 
 Street, for which I paid eight thousand dollars, and moved in 
 with my family as soon as the deal was closed. We had been 
 living in an old frame house near my place of business on Halsted 
 Street, paying a rental of six dollars a month, and it was there 
 that my two sons, Arthur and Philip, were born. 
 
 In our new home, we occupied a fine eight'room flat, and began 
 to live more comfortably and enjoyably. Although I eventually 
 sold the building at a loss of eleven hundred dollars, we lived 
 there for many years, and derived a good income therefrom in the 
 meantime. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Every second or third evening, we five brothers all met at my 
 home, and talked of various matters — business, politics, the "old 
 country," and about our parents and how much money to send 
 them. We had been forwarding money to them regularly, and we 
 eventually brought the sum up to a hundred dollars a month. 
 We had very enjoyable evenings together, and we always got 
 along very well. 
 
 The only one who had any complaint to make was Henry, 
 who had become dissatisfied with what he was doing. He felt 
 it beneath him to work for eighteen dollars a week in this "land 
 of opportunity," when in Odessa he had been a manufacturer in 
 
176 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 his own right. He felt that since I had helped put all my other 
 brothers in business, I should at least do as much for him. He 
 claimed to be an expert in making children's iron beds, and urged 
 me to help him get started in that line, believing he could thereby 
 develop a fine business for both of us. 
 
 Through a friend who was doing business with Marshall Field 
 and Company, I made inquiries of that concern as to whether 
 iron beds were being manufactured in this country, and what the 
 prospects were for bringing them into the market. I learned that 
 all the iron and metal beds which they bought were imported 
 from England, but that there was a heavy duty imposed upon 
 them, and there would, therefore, be a good market for anyone 
 who could make them here. 
 
 Henry having assured me that he knew the business thoroughly, 
 I went to my banker, Mr. Felsenthal, senior member of the firm 
 of Felsenthal, Gross and Miller, on La Salle Street, who informed 
 me that for every dollar I invested in the business, up to the 
 sum of five thousand dollars, he would lend me an equal amount. 
 
 I rented a basement on Halsted Street, ordered the necessary 
 tools, paints and materials, hired a few distant relatives of Henry's 
 wife — and we began to manufacture children's iron beds. When 
 the first little bed was finished, I took pictures of it and went to 
 the various department stores, namely Marshall Field's, The Fair, 
 the Boston Store and Carson Pirie Scott & Company. Each 
 store gave me orders and encouraged me to go ahead. 
 
 I immediately incorporated the business under the name of the 
 Horwich Bed Manufacturing Company, and invested more 
 money. We rented a three-story building on Chicago Avenue, 
 and Henry began manufacturing beds of all sises, while I con' 
 tinued to do the selling. I began to make plans to give up my 
 bottle business and become a member of the concern, and engage 
 actively with my brother in the manufacture of beds, enlarging 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 177 
 
 the plant. I had visions of developing a great business in a few 
 years. 
 
 To my disappointment, however, things took a different turn. 
 When we had been in business for about four months and had 
 sold a great many beds to various concerns, I was called in by 
 The Fair. The head of the furniture department informed me 
 that out of fifteen of our beds which they had sold, eight had 
 come back, and they were afraid the others would also be re- 
 turned. The reason for this, he said, was that the beds were made 
 of thin wrought iron and joined together with lead and were 
 therefore hardly strong enough to support even one person, and 
 certainly not more. I was surprised to hear this, but he showed 
 me where the beds were bent, and where some of them had broken 
 away from the joints. He admitted he had been badly mistaken 
 in buying them, and remarked: "I am afraid you know nothing 
 about the business." The next day I received a similar complaint 
 from Marshall Field and Company. 
 
 I was now beset by many worries. I owed the bank a thousand 
 dollars, had three thousand dollars of my own in the business, and 
 in addition, had borrowed several hundred dollars from David. I 
 discussed all this with Henry, but he became excited and insisted 
 that the beds were right, and that he could make them no other 
 way. No amount of persuasion or argument could convince him 
 to change his method of manufacture. 
 
 As a last resort, I appealed to a friend of mine, Abe Davis, a 
 nephew of my good friend, Mr. Goldstein, and the son of the 
 Mrs. Davis whom I met on my first day in Chicago. A fine, 
 sensible, Americanized young man, he ran a small haberdashery 
 on Halsted Street, near Roosevelt Road, opposite the basement 
 shop where we had started the business, and he had often watched 
 Henry at work. He was interested in the business and believed 
 that it was only necessary to improve on the method of manu- 
 facturing the beds in order to make the venture a profitable one. 
 
178 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 So sure was he of this, that he offered to sell out his own business 
 and come in with us. 
 
 I was reluctant to let him do this, for fear he might suffer a 
 great loss thereby, and insisted that he investigate the matter 
 thoroughly. Mr. Davis was determined, however, and within the 
 next few weeks he sold his business, realising enough money to 
 embark on this new venture, and I turned everything over to him 
 and Henry. 
 
 It took Mr. Davis many months to convince Henry that they 
 were making the wrong kind of bed. I am afraid that if he had 
 not been such a fine gentleman, possessing unlimited patience and 
 common sense, both he and my brother would have lost every 
 cent. He secured a man from England, experienced in that line, 
 to instruct them, and this man was made superintendent of the 
 shop. He advised that the beds should not be made of thin iron, 
 but of heavy pipes of a certain size, which should be joined with 
 iron, rather than with melted lead, showed them the various 
 brass fixtures that should go with the beds, and suggested that 
 the painting be done by dipping rather than by hand. Mr. Davis 
 saw to it that these suggestions were acted upon, and withdraw 
 ing my investment, I wished them both good luck and returned 
 to my bottle business. 
 
 The name of the firm was changed to Davis and Horwich, and 
 it became one of the first iron, brass and metal bed manufac- 
 turing firms in the United States. The growth of the concern was 
 remarkable, and they were unable to fill their orders fast enough. 
 They soon had to move into larger quarters, and were making 
 money "hand over fist." 
 
 Henry now brought over his family, and they lived in fine 
 style. He was very generous, charitable and well liked by people, 
 but as he became extremely friendly with the relatives of his wife 
 and with other people who came from Odessa, forming their own 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 179 
 
 little group, I and my other brothers did not see very much of 
 him, to our regret. 
 
 During this period, Harris also brought over his wife and two 
 little girls from Odessa, and they lived on Canal Street, in the 
 building which housed his bottle business. 
 
 My youngest brother, Sam, married Lena Cohen, a sister of 
 Eva, the wife of Brother David, and he, too, got along very nicely. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Harris had to be guided in business matters by Sam and David, 
 and myself. Although he was a man of brilliant intellect, a stu- 
 dent of history, well versed in the arts and sciences, and well 
 informed on all current matters, he did not rate so high as a 
 practical business man. 
 
 One day, when I happened to be out of the city, someone sug- 
 gested to Harris that he ought to get a horse for his business, as 
 it would facilitate deliveries. Wishing to demonstrate his business 
 ability, Harris accordingly bought a horse. When I returned to 
 the city and saw his purchase, I told him that he knew as much 
 about horses as the horses knew about him. He laughed good- 
 naturedly at this gibe. 
 
 The horse was the most decrepit animal I had ever seen and 
 simply could not be used. It would have to be disposed of. I tele- 
 phoned a horse dealer, and when he came over and looked at the 
 beast, standing motionless, with its head hanging almost to the 
 ground and his eyes half shut, he wanted to know what ailed 
 the animal. 
 
 Before I had a chance to reply, Harris spoke up. "The reason 
 he keeps his head down," he told the dealer, "is because he is 
 bashful and modest, especially in the presence of a stranger. But 
 if you will show him some friendship and feed him up a little, 
 you will find him to be one of the finest horses in Chicago. M 
 
 "It is a shame," he continued, "that a horse with his pedigree 
 should suffer the humiliation of working on Canal Street. Do you 
 
180 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 know what family this horse comes from? You will be surprised 
 to learn that he originates from the 'Rosinante family,' that pro- 
 duced that famous mare known throughout the world as the one 
 on which Don Quixote rode all through his famous exploits. If you 
 will just twist a few colored ribbons in his tail and clean him 
 properly, you can use him to lead the procession of horseback 
 riders in the Democratic campaign that is to take place in a few 
 weeks." Harris was a Republican and did not think very much 
 of the Democratic party. 
 
 The poor horse dealer turned to me in amazement and said, 
 "What is the matter with this man? What is he talking about? 
 He is just as loony as the horse looks to be," and he left. 
 
 The animal, which had cost $48.00, was sold a few weeks later 
 for $17.00, but not until he had caused a little damage. One 
 morning, my clever brother, Harris, had found him in the barn, 
 unable to get up. He tried to help him up, and during the effort, 
 the horse stamped on his foot, injuring him rather badly. Poor 
 Harris was lamed and could not walk for nearly two months 
 afterward. 
 
 Once, when passing Harris' place of business, I stopped in to 
 see him, as was my custom, and found him talking with Rabbi 
 A. R. Levy, who was for many years the spiritual leader of the 
 B'nai Abraham congregation, the members of which had come 
 chiefly from Bohemia and Hungary. Rabbi Levy was a very fine 
 man, and did a great deal of good in the Jewish community. 
 
 During their discussion, Dr. Levy asked Harris what he thought 
 of the sermon that he had preached in German on the previous 
 Friday night. He had particularly invited Harris and me to attend 
 those services, because he had planned to speak in German, and 
 we had accepted his invitation. To this question, Harris replied 
 that he had felt very nervous while listening to him, and when 
 the Rabbi asked him why, Harris told him that it was because his 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 181 
 
 German had sounded as though any second he would start to talk 
 in Yiddish. 
 
 Afraid that the Rabbi might be offended by this witticism, I 
 hastily commented that I was sure the reason he had spoken in a 
 "Yiddish'German" was because he felt the congregation would 
 not understand pure German. 
 
 While in the office, I noticed a lengthy letter in Hebrew lying 
 on Harris' desk. I asked him about it, and he explained to the 
 Rabbi and me that he had received it from a highly intellectual 
 acquaintance of his in Russia, who was planning to come to 
 America. The writer was seeking Harris' advice as to what was 
 the first thing he should do when he reached New York, and his 
 questions filled many pages. Harris showed us a postcard on which 
 he had written a few brief words in reply. 
 
 "The first thing to do," it. read, "is not to get yourself run 
 over crossing the streets. The rest will take care of itself ." 
 
 Harris' wife, who was a very fine woman and a good house 
 keeper, was very proud of her husband, and always had amusing 
 stories to tell of him. While riding home on the street car one 
 evening, she told us, he got off at the wrong street. This sort of 
 thing happened to him quite often, as he was usually so com- 
 pletely engrossed in his thoughts that he was oblivious to external 
 matters. He saw Caesar, Alexander the Great, Napoleon, Bis- 
 marck, Disraeli, Shakespeare, Heine, Boerne, Goethe, Schiller, 
 Herd, Bialik, Ahad'Ha-am and Sokolow, but did not recognise 
 people sitting next to him. 
 
 On this occasion, his wife, by chance, coming from a grocery 
 store, met him wandering around like a lost child. When he saw 
 her, he shouted with joy. 
 
 "I am glad that I met you here," he exclaimed, "as I want to 
 ask you where you live." 
 
 The poor woman became frightened. She thought there was 
 something wrong with him. 
 
182 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "What is the matter with you? Why do you ask that?" she 
 queried. 
 
 "It so happens," he responded, "that I live in the same house 
 that you do, and I have forgotten where it is." 
 
 He used to call her on the telephone several times a day. Once 
 when I stopped in, he was in the telephone booth, talking to her, 
 and I overheard some of his conversation. 
 
 "Guess," he said, "who was here this morning." 
 
 He finally told her: "Your cousin from St. Louis. Now guess 
 what he has brought with him." After a pause, I heard him say: 
 
 "No, no, not that — something else." 
 
 Finally he said: "He brought with him stomach trouble " 
 
 Another time I heard him tell his wife about the great bargain 
 he had discovered on Maxwell Street. 
 
 "For eight cents," he said, "I bought a tea glass so big that 
 when I drink two glasses of tea, it equals three, and so one glass is 
 clear profit." 
 
 One afternoon I received a call to hurry to the police station, 
 as Brother Harris was there, under arrest! Though I was sure it 
 could not be anything serious, I was very much disturbed, and 
 went at once. 
 
 When I arrived, I learned from the desk sergeant that two 
 charges had been lodged against him. One was that he kept boxes 
 containing bottles on the sidewalk in front of his place, thus 
 obstructing part of the passageway; and the other was that he 
 tried to get funny with the policeman. Harris had told the officer 
 that the reason he placed the boxes outside was because the 
 wooden sidewalk at that spot had many holes, and in some places 
 the nails were sticking out. Therefore, he kept those parts cov 
 ered to protect pedestrians from stumbling and getting hurt. For 
 this service that he was rendering to the city, he said, he could 
 demand compensation, but would not do so if the policeman 
 would let him alone. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 183 
 
 When they brought Harris from his cell, after I signed a bail 
 bond, he had a book with him, as usual. 
 
 "There must be something wrong with that officer," he said 
 indignantly to the desk sergeant. "First he interfered in my busi- 
 ness, and now he interferes with my reading a book." He had 
 been reading one of the works of Schopenhauer in the cell, and 
 was annoyed because when the policeman came to take him out, 
 he would not wait until Harris finished his chapter. 
 
 The next morning the case came up in the Police Court and 
 was dismissed. In rendering his decision, the judge remarked that 
 the only offense involved was that the defendant had not been 
 permitted to finish the chapter. 
 
 We finally secured a partner for Harris by the name of S. 
 Yaffe. They were together for about a year and then separated. 
 Some years later, Harris joined David and Sam in business. 
 I was able to lease for them a big three-story frame building 
 for a very reasonable rental and the three brothers continued 
 together in the bottle business on Canal Street, under the firm 
 name of Horwich Brothers, until the end of their lives. 
 
 About the year 1905 I learned that a bottle concern in Mil- 
 waukee, Wisconsin, by the name of William Fransen & Son, 
 contemplated selling out. I proposed to my brothers forming a 
 combination between Chicago and Milwaukee, and as they 
 approved of that idea, I bought out the Fransen company. Our 
 youngest brother, Sam, thereupon moved to Milwaukee with his 
 family, to operate the business there. Everything went smoothly, 
 my brothers doing a nice business with the Chicago and Mil- 
 waukee brewers, as well as those of neighboring states. 
 
 When we five brothers were comparatively well settled, we 
 received a surprise present from our oldest brother, Aron, who 
 lived in Woronowo, a small town formerly a part of Russia and 
 
184 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 now belonging to Poland. The present was in the form of his 
 thirteen-year-old boy, Philip, a good-looking youngster. He was 
 rather clever for his age and possessed the characteristics of his 
 grandparents — that is, our parents. Like his grandfather, he was 
 sensible, systematic, mild-mannered and honest. At the same time, 
 he exhibited some of the traits of his grandmother, being also rest- 
 less, somewhat pessimistic and worried about the future. 
 
 Philip went to live with Harris and had there a very good 
 home. We wanted to see that he got some kind of education, but 
 he was not satisfied to devote all his time to study. He was willing, 
 he said, to study in the evening, but wanted to do some practical 
 work during the day. It was rather difficult to find employment 
 for a thirteen-year-old boy, who was "green" and who was rather 
 small for his age, and this made him very unhappy. With tears in 
 his eyes, he often cried to me: "I want to make my own living!" 
 He did not want to be a "charity boarder" even with an uncle. 
 
 "I must get something to do," he said, "as it makes me sick 
 and I cannot sleep nights." 
 
 One evening, when I was at the home of Brother Harris, he 
 kept whining, "Why did I come here to be so miserable? I wish 
 that the ship that brought me over had been sunk before she 
 landed." 
 
 His aunt, Hinde Sarah, who was an exceptionally fine woman, 
 went over to him, and patting him on the head, begged him to 
 stop talking such nonsense. 
 
 "You are only a little boy," she said. "Be what you are. You 
 have a good home. We will do everything for you. Do not con- 
 sider yourself a grown man, or a stranger here. You know that 
 you are very welcome in our house." 
 
 However, Philip still insisted that he should be able to make 
 his own living, and that the ship that brought him over was to be 
 blamed for his unhappiness, because it did not sink in mid-ocean 
 and thus spare him all this misery. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 185 
 
 Finally his Uncle Harris spoke up. 
 
 "Philip," he said, "I think you are right, and I do not blame 
 you for feeling as desperate as you do. I agree with you that it 
 would have been a whole lot better if you had sunk in mid'ocean 
 with the ship, and thus your troubles would have ended then and 
 there. But," he added, "it is not too late, and I can remedy the 
 matter for you in a much better way. If the steamer had been 
 sunk on your account, it would have been a great calamity to the 
 relatives and friends of a large number of other people. You told 
 me that there were over six hundred passengers on that boat, and 
 all of them would have lost their lives because of you. That 
 wouldn't be right. Do you agree with me?" 
 
 "Yes, you are right," answered Philip. 
 
 "Well, then," Harris continued, "I will tell you what I can do 
 for you. It is only a ten^minute walk from here to the lake. To 
 morrow evening we will walk over there. I know a fine place 
 where the water is clean and deep. I will tie a heavy stone around 
 your neck and throw you in. Then you will be satisfied, and the 
 six hundred people who came over with you on the steamer, and 
 their relatives and friends, will also be satisfied." 
 
 We all started laughing, and little Philip laughed too, for he 
 couldn't help himself. What amused us was that Harris had 
 spoken in such a serious manner that one might almost think he 
 meant what he said. After that, Philip stopped complaining and 
 wishing he had gone down with the steamer. 
 
 Shortly thereafter, he found for himself a position with Lyon 
 Brothers, a wholesale merchandise concern. For several months 
 he worked there for three dollars a week, and when they noticed 
 how willing and ambitious he was, they raised his salary to five 
 dollars, then to eight dollars, and finally to ten dollars a week. 
 He stayed with them long enough to save up around a hundred 
 dollars. 
 
186 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 In some way, he learned about a little village in Kentucky, 
 named Josephine, with a population of about sixty families, which 
 he was advised would be a good place for a business venture. His 
 firm agreed to give him four hundred dollars' worth of credit, 
 provided I would be responsible for at least two hundred dollars. 
 I signed an agreement to that effect, and Philip left to become a 
 business man in Josephine. 
 
 A few years later, I went there to visit him, and found he had 
 a store in the house where he lived, with about two thousand 
 dollars' worth of merchandise. The stock consisted of so many 
 different items that it might have been termed a little department 
 store. There were groceries, hardware, men's furnishings, notions, 
 women's apparel, and so forth, and everything was arranged in a 
 clean and orderly manner. He ran it all alone, except that on 
 Saturdays he had a girl from the house where he lived help him. 
 
 There were about half a dosen farmers sitting around the stove, 
 smoking and gossiping. When I was introduced to them, they told 
 me how much they thought of Philip. One of them said to me: 
 "You must be a very nice man, judging by the fine nephew 
 you have." 
 
 They told me that they relied upon him for everything. "We 
 trust him and he trusts us," remarked one of the men. "When he 
 needs money, we get together and lend it to him. And when we 
 need money, he lends it to us. Isn't that right, Philip?" 
 
 "Sure," Philip replied. "But now I don't need any money, and 
 I hope I won't have to trouble you any more for any." 
 
 I stayed on for two days, and was very happy to see how nice 
 the people were to him, and what an able, sensible boy my 
 brother's son was. 
 
 I told my brothers about it when I returned. Judging from the 
 way the residents of Josephine talked, I remarked, there were, 
 in the language of the lawyer, two parties in the State of Ken' 
 tucky — one was the "party of the first part," that is, the people 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 187 
 
 of Kentucky; and the other was the "party of the second part," 
 who was Philip Horwich, of Woronowo. 
 
 A few years later, I received a sudden call from him to come 
 at once — that he was in trouble. He did not explain what the 
 trouble was. I left immediately, feeling very disturbed. I was 
 thinking of the predicament of a Jewish boy all alone among all 
 those simple, uneducated farmers, who could be easily prejudiced 
 and aroused. I feared that perhaps they suspected him of some 
 thing terrible, and that whether they were right or wrong, he 
 would be in for some serious trouble. 
 
 On my arrival, I found, to my great relief, that the situation 
 was not so bad. It seems he had become involved in an accusation 
 of breach of promise. The girl who lived in the same house he 
 did claimed that he had promised to marry her; that she had 
 fallen in love with him, and that now she had found out that he 
 was not going to keep his promise. There was no other accusation. 
 Philip insisted that he had never made such a promise, and had 
 never asked the girl to marry him. But she kept on telling him 
 that she felt they would make a fine match. 
 
 It took me about six days to straighten out the matter. I had 
 to use a great deal of diplomacy. On the one side were the girl, 
 her parents and two husky brothers; and on the other side, the 
 little Jewish boy, helpless and alone. 
 
 I first won over the mother, then the father and then the 
 brothers. The brothers were the most obstinate. 
 
 "We like Philip," they said, "and think a great deal of him, 
 but we cannot permit him to break our sister's heart. Even if he 
 did not make an actual promise, he permitted her to fall in love 
 with him, and he ought to marry her." 
 
 I finally was able to convince them that their sister, a big, 
 husky American girl, could never be happy with a little Jewish 
 foreign'born husband. Their religion, personal characteristics and 
 modes of living were so far apart that they would never be able 
 
188 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 to get along. I explained that, at best, they could only claim 
 monetary damages, for breach of promise, and since Philip abso" 
 lutely denied making any promise, they ought to be reasonable. 
 They finally decided to leave it to my sense of justice, and the 
 matter was settled for five hundred dollars, half to be paid in cash 
 and half in installments. 
 
 Philip saw no reason why this money should be paid, since he 
 was entirely innocent, but I convinced him this would be the 
 wisest way to handle the situation, in order to keep the good'will 
 of the community. 
 
 Some time later, several of Philip's brothers came to America. 
 One of them, Julius, joined him in his business, and they worked 
 together for about a year, after which Philip turned the business 
 over to his brother for liquidation and came to Chicago. He sub' 
 sequently opened a store in Elkhart, Indiana, where he developed 
 a big business and became one of the town's first citizens. He was 
 a member of the Chamber of Commerce and a stockholder in a 
 bank, and was admired and respected by all who knew him. 
 Philip married and had two fine children, Irving and Adeline. His 
 wife, Anna, a very able woman, was a great help to him in his 
 business. 
 
 One day we were horrified by terrible news we received over 
 the telephone from Elkhart — that our Philip had suddenly 
 dropped dead. It was a sad blow to us, and to his many friends. 
 His funeral was attended by the most prominent people of the 
 community, and the local newspapers printed his picture together 
 with a long article describing his splendid qualities. 
 
 * * * 
 
 A short time after Philip came to America, he was followed 
 by his sister, Hannah, then about sixteen years old, and a very 
 sweet and charming girl. She was employed by me for several 
 years, and then married a young man named Louis Freeman, who 
 also was in my employ. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 189 
 
 We were next pleased to receive Philip's oldest brother, Abram 
 Hers, with his wife, Frieda, and their two children. Frieda was 
 a very fine and clever woman and got along with everybody 
 in the family. 
 
 My brothers and I started Abram out in the restaurant busi- 
 ness, in which he continued for several years. It was in his 
 restaurant that a banquet was held for the internationally known 
 Zionist, Schmarya Levin, when the latter visited Chicago. The 
 affair was attended by the most prominent Jews in Chicago, in' 
 eluding such men as Julius Rosenwald and A. G. Becker. 
 
 After a few years, Abram had to give up the restaurant, as 
 the character of the neighborhood changed. He went into the 
 insurance business, and is still in that line. A few years ago, his 
 wife suddenly took sick and passed away. She was deeply 
 mourned, and her loss was a great tragedy to the family. 
 
 Abram has since married his cousin, Minnie, the daughter of 
 my brother, Henry, who is a very fine woman. 
 
 Abram had spent most of his younger days in Jewish schools 
 of learning and had become quite a scholar. He is sincere and 
 honest, always a gentleman and well liked. His Talmudic training, 
 however, with its complex and involved methods of reasoning, 
 makes it difficult sometimes to carry on a discussion with him. 
 
 As an illustration of this, I recall a discussion as to whether 
 or not it was wise for some of the high government officials of 
 the United States to criticise and attack Hitler for the mistreat' 
 ment of the Jews. Some people felt that they should not do so, 
 because they would thereby offend the Hitler government, who 
 would retaliate by further persecution of the Jews. 
 
 To this probability, Abram Hers replied: "After all, through' 
 out the history of the world, Jews have been persecuted every 
 where and made to suffer, and they are used to it." 
 
 This reminds me of a story concerning a fishwife and a Rabbi. 
 The Rabbi noticed that the woman took a fish from a tank and 
 
190 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 proceeded to cut it up while it was still alive and flapping. He 
 
 reproached her for this, saying that it was inhuman, and that 
 
 she should not cut up the fish until it was dead. To this the 
 
 fishwife casually replied: "Oh, that is all right. I have been doing 
 
 this for years. The fish are already used to it!" 
 
 Abram Hers is the father of three brilliant daughters — Rose 
 
 and Celia, who are married, and Bertha, who is working for the 
 
 Government. 
 
 * * * 
 
 In the year 1893, when Chicago was just getting ready for the 
 opening of the World's Columbian Exposition, my brothers and 
 I were chatting together over our tea one day, when Sam, the 
 youngest, proposed that each of us contribute his share, accord- 
 ing to his means, for the purpose of bringing our father here for 
 a visit. We all accepted the idea with great enthusiasm, and 
 within a week, a ticket from Wilno to Chicago, together with 
 the necessary money for additional expenses, was on the way to 
 our father. 
 
 For the six weeks that preceded his arrival, our thoughts and 
 words centered upon the phrase, "Father comes!" — just as had 
 been the case during our childhood days in Poniemon. 
 
 When we went to meet him at the station, our happiness was 
 unbounded, but our enthusiasm was dampened a little by his 
 appearance. We had forgotten that his clothes would not be like 
 our American clothes, and were startled to see him in the typical 
 garments of the small-town Lithuanian Jew. He wore a funny 
 cap and an outlandish long garment, and he looked older than 
 we had anticipated. He was then seventy-two years old, and 
 looked it. 
 
 We immediately ushered him into a carriage and brought him 
 to Harris' house. David was selected as the "stylist," to take 
 Father in hand and "doll him up." Harris humorously suggested 
 a "beard cut" immediately, and David took him to a barber shop, 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 191 
 
 where his beard and hair were becomingly trimmed. He then took 
 him to a haberdashery, and had him outfitted in a new suit, shirt, 
 tie and shoes. 
 
 When we all gathered together again that evening, we beheld 
 an entirely different-looking man. The change was astonishing. 
 He looked years younger, and we were overjoyed at his fine 
 appearance. We were glad to find, too, that he was the same 
 good-hearted, honest, optimistic and contented person we had 
 remembered him to be. 
 
 Father was beaming with happiness at seeing his sons and their 
 families. We arranged to have him meet his grandchildren singly, 
 placing him in a separate room and bringing them to him one at 
 a time. I can hardly describe his joy at this. He told us that he 
 wished he were a poet, so that he could describe the beauty of 
 the scene, and how beautiful the children looked as they came 
 in, especially two of them, he said, who looked like little angels. 
 He would not tell us which ones he referred to, however, so that 
 there would be no jealousy among us. We learned later that he 
 had pronounced the well known Hebrew blessing over the head 
 of each child in turn. 
 
 We made various plans for entertaining him. At first, we 
 decided we would all meet every evening at Harris' home, but 
 later changed the meeting place each evening, so that each of us 
 might have a chance to have him at our home. Twice a week, one 
 of us would take him out riding in a carriage, and show him the 
 city — the parks, the lake, and so forth; and every few days he 
 would write to Mother, telling her of his happiness and of the 
 wonders of America. He even learned a little English, and one 
 time ventured out by himself for a walk in Lincoln Park. He 
 bought some apples and bananas for lunch, and sat down on a 
 bench and began to eat. It wasn't long, he told us, before some 
 little boys, with mischievous ideas, decided to have fun with 
 him — but Father took a few pennies from his pocket and threw 
 
192 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 them quite a distance from the place where he was sitting. Away 
 went the children to find them, forgetting about him. 
 
 Among other things, we took him many times to the World's 
 Fair, and he was very greatly impressed with the wonders that 
 he saw there. 
 
 Father was with us for that entire summer, and there was 
 hardly a day that our love and respect for him did not increase. 
 He had such a fine character and such good sense, and was so 
 mild, and so grateful for every little thing that was done for him. 
 
 Father had a sincere belief in God. Though very religious, he 
 was liberal'minded and was always ready to defend those who 
 were not as pious as he. In defense of Reformed Judaism, he 
 often quoted the German saying: "Neue voegel, neue lieder 11 
 (new birds, new songs) . 
 
 "The world keeps changing from one generation to another, 11 
 he would say. "We have to expect that ceremonies and tradi' 
 tions in religion must also change. 11 
 
 The main thing, he felt, was that Jews should know they were 
 Jews, that they should believe in God, and that they should be 
 good, honest and charitable. 
 
 We were anxious to bring Mother here also, so that she and 
 Father could make this country their permanent home. To our 
 disappointment, however, we learned that Mother's state of health 
 was such that she could not travel, and that it would be unwise 
 for her to undertake the trip to the United States. 
 
 At one of our family gatherings, after the High Holidays, 
 Father said that he felt like Jacob in the Bible, except that Jacob 
 had twelve sons, while he had six. 
 
 "It is wonderful to be with you, 11 he said, "but the time has 
 come for me to leave. My heart is filled with gratefulness and 
 thanks to God that He has let me live and has given me the joy 
 of being with you in this great, free country. But Mother is 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 193 
 
 alone and lonesome, and her health is not too good, so it is best 
 that I return home now." 
 
 It was decided that one of us should accompany him to New 
 York and see him off on the boat, and I was selected for that 
 honor. We spent about eight days in New York, and I then saw 
 him off on his steamer, the Crown Prince von Preussen. Before 
 the boat sailed, I inspected his cabin and arranged with the 
 steward to give him Kosher food, see he had everything he needed 
 and look after his comfort generally. To insure that this would 
 be done, I handed the steward a generous sum of money, and 
 instructed Father how much to tip him when they reached 
 Hamburg. 
 
 Standing on the dock as the ship was about to sail, I saw my 
 father wiping his eyes with his handkerchief. Just as the whistle 
 blew and the boat began to move, he shouted to me: "Yevoreche' 
 cho!" (May God bless you and protect you). 
 
 As the ship slowly moved away, I remained standing there, 
 feeling that I was taking leave of one of the best friends that God 
 can give a man. 
 
 We learned later, from people who came over, and from friends 
 who wrote us, that the whole town was agog over his appearance 
 and his fine clothes, and listened eagerly to his description of the 
 greatness of America and his tales of how well he was treated by 
 his sons and their families, and others. Friends and relatives who 
 came to Chicago five years later, told us that Father was still 
 talking about his trip to Chicago, and the wonders of America. 
 
 Gradually my home became a meeting place for the intellect 
 tuals who came to Chicago, and we used to entertain groups of 
 five or six such men at least three or four times a week. Harris, 
 as a rule, was the leader in the discussions that took place, and 
 we thus spent many enjoyable and stimulating evenings. 
 
194 MY FIRST EIGHTY- YEARS 
 
 There were among them men of various types, all very interest' 
 ing. Prominent in the group was Mr. Zolotkoff, whom I have 
 already mentioned. A gentleman in every respect, he was as a 
 rule easygoing and mild-mannered, although in his writing he 
 was sometimes extremely harsh. It was a treat to be in his com' 
 pany and listen to his arguments and reasoning. He was well 
 informed on almost every subject, always made himself clear, 
 and generally what he said was right. 
 
 An entirely different type was a Mr. La Mark, a young Rus- 
 sian Jew, recently arrived from Paris, France. In addition to Eng' 
 lish, he spoke German, French and Russian. No one knew what 
 his business was. Although quite intelligent, he was disagreeable 
 in an argument. He would not speak to the point, but would 
 get excited and liked to exaggerate and to bluff. He would 
 become very angry about anything that he did not like, and 
 was an habitual complainer. Harris once told him that there 
 are some people who do not believe in the saying, "Live and 
 let live." 
 
 "You, Mr. La Mark," he said, "not only do not believe in live 
 and let live,' but you also do not believe in 'bluff and let bluff. 1 ' 
 
 Mr. La Mark remained in Chicago for a number of years, and 
 then disappeared. Twenty 'odd years later I ran into him on Fred' 
 erick Street, in Berlin, Germany, and we spent an evening to' 
 gether. He was reticent as ever about his personal affairs, and to 
 this day I do not know what his occupation was. 
 
 Another and very unusual type among these intellectuals was 
 Mr. Peter Wiernik. A student and a scholar, he was well read 
 and the possessor of a good memory. A noted Jewish writer, he 
 was a hard worker and honest in thought, speech and action. 
 However, he was of an extremely stubborn nature, with fixed 
 ideas about almost everything, and once he spoke his mind, no 
 one could make him change it, no matter what evidence or argu' 
 ments were presented. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 195 
 
 He was a great proponent of Orthodoxy for the Jews and 
 Catholicism for the Christians, and absolutely refused to con' 
 sider any variation of these two religions, such as the Conserva' 
 tive or Reformed elements in Judaism and the Protestant groups 
 in Christianity. He always maintained that Jewish Orthodoxy 
 and Christian Catholicism would remain and all the other types of 
 religion would disappear. 
 
 Strangely enough, he himself was not associated with any re" 
 ligious organizations. He never attended services in any church 
 or synagogue, and was not a member of any religious group — 
 neither did he ever pray or claim any religion for himself. But 
 he admired the people who did believe, and who did pray. 
 
 Harris remarked about Mr. Wiernik that he was like one who 
 considered himself an expert shot. He knew how to handle a gun, 
 how to load it, and how to shoot it — but he seldom hit the mark. 
 
 However, in spite of the fact that we could never agree on 
 religious and political problems, we were the best of friends. 
 Whenever Mr. Wiernik was in need of anything, or wanted my 
 advice or assistance, I was happy to be of help to him. After he 
 gave up or lost his position as a writer for the Daily Jewish 
 Courier, I created a job for him in my business, and for more than 
 two years he was on my payroll as a "resource man," which 
 was a sinecure. This helped to carry him along until he secured a 
 position in his own profession, in New York, with the Jewish 
 Morning Journal. During the many years he lived in that city, I 
 never failed to spend half days and evenings with him when I 
 visited New York, and we had endless discussions and arguments 
 on many, many subjects. 
 
 Unfortunately, a situation later arose which marred our f riend' 
 ship. In the year 1919, 1 was elected as one of three commissioners 
 to go to Europe, particularly to Poland, to distribute food, cloth" 
 ing and money to the poor and needy who had suffered through 
 the World War. 
 
196 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 About a year after I returned, Mr. Wiernik informed me that 
 he had heard that while I was in Europe on this relief mission 
 (of which I will speak again later on) , I had done some private 
 work in connection with my business in Chicago, and he asked 
 me whether or not this was true. I assured him that it was not 
 true, but he insisted that I write him a letter denying the charge. 
 The reason he gave for asking me to do this was to have his con' 
 science clear about me. I wanted to show him that I could be 
 as stubborn as he was, and refused to give him a written state 
 ment, feeling that he should have considered my word sufficient. 
 I was later confidentially informed by a friend that it was be' 
 cause of my refusal to give him this written statement that he 
 omitted mentioning my name in his book, entitled "The History 
 of the Jews in America." Another reason for the omission, I was 
 told, was that I did not agree with Mr. Wiernik concerning the 
 importance of a certain institution, to which he had requested 
 that I contribute a considerable sum. 
 
 Another interesting character who came to my home was a 
 Mr. Yaffe, who was small and dark'complexioned. He was a 
 Talmudist and Hebrew scholar, and knew Russian and German 
 perfectly. The possessor of a most remarkable memory, he ac 
 quired a knowledge of the English language in six months. Com' 
 ing to New York without any knowledge of English, it took him 
 six months to memorise Webster's Dictionary. After that 
 he could quote by heart every word in the book! We tested his 
 phenomenal memory many, many times, and "believe it or not," 
 he could give the full description and meaning of any word men' 
 tioned to him, just as it was printed in Webster's. 
 
 At this time, he was not doing anything in particular and had 
 to depend upon his friends for his sustenance. I decided to intro' 
 duce him to Dr. Emil G. Hirsch. I described to Dr. Hirsch his 
 excellent qualifications, and then took Mr. Yaffe to see him. They 
 became great friends, and Dr. Hirsch engaged him to explain the 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 197 
 
 deeper meanings of the argumentations and disputations of the 
 Rabbis in the Talmud, paying him fifteen dollars a week for his 
 companionship as a student. 
 
 In view of Dr. Hirsch's former antagonism towards the West 
 Side Jews, I considered it quite an accomplishment that he had 
 arrived at the point where he would study the Talmud side by 
 side with a Russian Jew. 
 
 At these informal gatherings of intellectuals in my home, every 
 imaginable subject was discussed, including politics, religion, 
 philosophy, science, books, and domestic and world affairs — in 
 fact, everything except what immediately concerned the material 
 welfare of the men themselves. All these brilliant individuals had 
 to struggle for their daily bread, and could hardly make enough 
 to get along — but their hardships were temporarily forgotten 
 during those long, delightful evenings of brilliant and stimulating 
 discussion. 
 
 Whenever and wherever the early West Side intellectuals 
 assembled and for whatever reason, they never failed to end up 
 by discussing the two paramount Jewish questions. These ques" 
 tions I am afraid will never be answered. The first one is — What 
 makes a man a Jew; is it religion, race or nationality? The second 
 question, which always followed discussion of the first, was — 
 Who is the genuine Jew, the Orthodox or the Reformed? (The 
 Conservative group, which has since been formed, did not exist in 
 those days.) 
 
 These two problems were the burning issues in the days gone 
 by, and they are still strongly debated and discussed. The Re 
 formed Jews seem generally to hold that one is a Jew only because 
 of the religion he practices, and not because of nationality, claim- 
 ing that the Jews are not a nation. The Orthodox, on the other 
 hand, appear to take the position that a Jew is unalterably a 
 
198 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 member of the Jewish nation, and the orthodox Jew must have 
 faith both in the Jewish nationality and in the Jewish religion. 
 
 To my mind, the Reformed Jews have had the best of the argu' 
 ment. I have observed since childhood that a Jew is recognised 
 as such by his fellow Jews only as long as he adheres to his faith, 
 whether he is Reformed, Orthodox or Conservative. As soon as 
 he officially gives up the Jewish religion and adopts Christianity, 
 he is read out by his own people from all Jewish communities 
 everywhere. 
 
 It is well known that if one were a skeptic, or an unbeliever, 
 refusing to conform to the Jewish traditions, ceremonies and 
 prayers, he was considered a bad, irreligious Jew — but still a 
 Jew, and a member of the Jewish community. But the minute he 
 became a convert to another religion, even though he believed in 
 Jewish nationality, he was ostracised from every Jewish group. 
 
 The fact that Hitler mistreats converted Jews just as he does 
 those who have not adopted Christianity proves nothing. He also 
 mistreats Socialists and Communists, whether they are Jews or 
 not. He even oppresses and persecutes Catholics and Protestants, 
 nuns and clergymen. He is more brutal towards the Jews, accusing 
 them of being his enemies and of being responsible for the boycott 
 against German goods, so that he may use these excuses to rob 
 them of their property and possessions. For two thousand years, 
 Jews were persecuted by various governments and peoples for no 
 other reason than their religion. In these instances, they were 
 generally given the alternative, to become Christians or die. There 
 was never a question of nationality or race. It was the faith of 
 Israel that was attacked. 
 
 When the Jews finally will have Palestine as their own coun- 
 try, and a large enough number of Jews will live there; when 
 they will have their own government and will adopt and speak 
 one language and be recognised by the nations of the world as a 
 Jewish Nation, then the Jew who wishes to do so may become a 
 member of the Jewish Nation. But at present, this is not true. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 199 
 
 Palestine now can survive only with the good will of other nations 
 as a place of refuge for homeless Jews. 
 
 Thirty or forty years ago, the two questions I have mentioned 
 were discussed much more frequently than they are now. The 
 debates would often last for hours, and would sometimes cause 
 unpleasant misunderstandings, as much strong feeling was ex' 
 hibited. However, it was an intellectual pleasure to listen to the 
 various arguments, presented by those brilliant thinkers — men 
 like Mr. ZolotkofF, Mr. Wiernik, Mr. Yaffe, my brother Harris, 
 Mr. Dolnitsky, Dr. Kadison, and others of understanding and 
 learning. Their discussions were stimulating, interesting and in' 
 formative. It seems one no longer encounters men of this type. 
 In recent years, when such questions have been discussed, the 
 arguments I have heard have been silly and meaningless. 
 
 As an illustration, I recall a discussion on the subject of Re' 
 formed and Orthodox Jewry that took place in a restaurant on 
 the West Side some six or seven years ago. I was invited to join 
 a group of five or six men sitting at one of the tables. Two of 
 them were on the side of Reformed Judaism, while the others all 
 expressed themselves as against Reformed Judaism, Reformed 
 Jews, and especially Reformed Rabbis. One of the latter made 
 this statement: 
 
 "I have no use for any Reformed Rabbi," he said, "but I have 
 a special grudge against Rabbi Gerson B. Levi." 
 
 I asked him why, and he gave the following answer: "A man 
 like him, who knows Hebrew well and can wade through pages 
 of the Talmud and is also not a stranger in the Midrash, the 
 Rambam and other commentaries on the Bible in the original — 
 a man like that should be a real Rabbi, an Orthodox Rabbi, and 
 not play around with Reformed Judaism. He possesses too much 
 learning not to be an Orthodox Rabbi!" 
 
 Being a member of the K. A. M. Reformed Temple, of which 
 Dr. Solomon B. Freehof was at that time the Rabbi, I was in' 
 
200 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 terested to know what the speaker would have to say about my 
 Rabbi, for whom I had the greatest respect and admiration. To 
 my query, he glibly replied: 
 
 "Well, of course you cannot expect a Reformed Rabbi to 
 know what he is talking about! But I will say this much for him 
 — he speaks very well and quite interestingly, and sometimes he 
 pretty nearly says something. He has a very good mind and 
 speaks Yiddish well, and if he had studied the Talmud for a few 
 years, he could have been an Orthodox Rabbi and a good one at 
 that. But now he is no better and no worse than any other Re' 
 formed Rabbi, who is destroying traditional Judaism." 
 
 The two Rabbis mentioned, as it happens, were two of the 
 foremost spiritual leaders of Chicago. Rabbi Levi, who was a true 
 scholar and gentleman, passed away not long ago, and Rabbi 
 Freehof, who is considered to be one of the best minds in the 
 country, was called to a temple in Pittsburgh. Happily, he was 
 succeeded here by a young Rabbi, who is an earnest student and 
 a man of considerable learning, namely, Rabbi Joshua Loth 
 Liebman. 
 
 Reformed Judaism was originally represented in Chicago only 
 by Rabbis who were German Jews. Of these, Dr. Hirsch was 
 first and foremost. Then came Dr. Joseph Stolzi, Rabbi Tobias 
 Schanfarber, Dr. Gerson B. Levi, Rabbi Abraham Hirschberg, 
 Rabbi Felix Levy, and others. Dr. Hirsch was later succeeded by 
 the eminent scholar and lecturer, Dr. Louis L. Mann. 
 
 The early Orthodox Rabbis in Chicago were, besides Rabbis 
 Anixter, Lesser and Budsinski, whom I have already mentioned, 
 Ephraim Epstein, Aziriel Epstein, Eleaser Muskin, A. S. Braude, 
 Saul Silber and Benjamin A. Daskal, the latter being the first 
 Orthodox Rabbi in Chicago of American birth and schooling. 
 
 In those days, no one could ever imagine that the time would 
 come when men of Russian and Lithuanian birth or parentage, 
 with Orthodox backgrounds and speaking perfect Yiddish, would 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 201 
 
 become Reformed Rabbis — so great was the gulf between the 
 two groups. Nor did anyone conceive that the time would come 
 when Reformed Rabbis would support the Zionist movement. 
 From the start, these German Jewish Reformed Rabbis were anti- 
 Zionists, while the Orthodox Rabbis, on the other hand, although 
 at first indifferent, afterward strongly advocated Zionism. 
 
 Yet the impossible occurred — and we now have many Re- 
 formed Rabbis who either were born in Russia or are of Russian 
 parentage, some of them outstanding in their field. In this cate- 
 gory, among others, are Rabbis Solomon B. Freehof, Joshua Loth 
 Liebman, Louis Binstock, Jacob Singer, Felix Mendelsohn and 
 George Fox, who is president of the Chicago Rabbinical Associa- 
 tion, a Reformed group. 
 
 The closer relationship which now exists between the Reformed 
 and Orthodox groups has been brought about largely through the 
 influence of Orthodox Rabbis with a modern outlook. In our city, 
 much credit is due, in this connection, to Rabbis Saul Silber, 
 Ephraim Epstein, Elea2ier Muskin, and others, who founded the 
 well known Hebrew Theological College, the second institution of 
 its kind in the country. Though an Orthodox institution, it 
 adopted modern methods of instruction. Many of its graduates 
 took the middle course, becoming Conservative Rabbis, and they 
 gradually developed a better understanding between the two dis- 
 tinct elements, drawing them closer together. 
 
 Although the heavy demands of their profession have occupied 
 most of the time of the various Rabbis I have mentioned, I am 
 pleased to say that they have also found time and energy to devote 
 to Zionism, as well as all the other philanthropic institutions and 
 welfare organisations which I have mentioned in this book. 
 
 Among the many plans submitted by Jewish leaders, in relation 
 to the Jewish question, was an interesting one suggested by Mr. 
 
202 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Adolf Kraus, who was a prominent lawyer, well known among 
 both Jews and non-Jews. 
 
 He felt that too many Jews emigrating from Europe to the 
 United States, especially those from the eastern countries, were 
 settling at the landing points, such as New York, Philadelphia and 
 Baltimore, where they became peddlers or engaged in various 
 petty businesses in the overcrowded Jewish sections. He feared 
 that this condition would in time antagonize the non-Jews and 
 intensify anti-Semitism, and conceived the idea of controlling this 
 immigration. 
 
 Mr. Kraus invited Mr. Ginzburg, the publisher of the Daily 
 Jewish Courier, and myself, to discuss and outline his plan. His 
 object was to create a central organization, with branches in the 
 larger Jewish communities throughout the country. Its purpose 
 would be to induce immigrants not to segregate and crowd into 
 overfilled centers, but to spread out, so that there would not be 
 too many Jews in the large cities. Especially was he interested in 
 having them go to Brazil, Mexico, Cuba and other of the smaller 
 countries, so that thus scattered about, they would not become 
 too conspicuous. 
 
 When Mr. Kraus sought our opinion, I proposed that we call 
 a conference in Chicago of the leading Jews in the United States 
 to discuss the matter, with which suggestion Mr. Ginzburg was 
 in accord. Personally, I told him, I did not understand how such 
 a plan could be accomplished, and doubted whether it should be 
 attempted at that time. 
 
 Two months later, we were invited to a meeting downtown, at 
 which Mr. Kraus' proposition was to be discussed. Harris was 
 interested and came with me. Leading Jews of America, from 
 about fifteen states, were present. 
 
 Mr. Kraus read a lengthy report and submitted his plan for 
 inducing immigrants to settle elsewhere than in the United States. 
 He particularly suggested Cuba, as it was not far and there were 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 203 
 
 few Jews there. That country, he stated, provided an opportunity 
 for many Jews to live in comfort, and even prosperity. 
 
 The plan was debated for hours, and finally someone made a 
 motion for its adoption, and for the appointment of a committee 
 to work out the details. When the vote was about to be taken, I 
 was surprised to hear Harris ask for the floor. Although he knew 
 English sufficiently well to enable him to read and write satis' 
 factorily, he spoke it poorly, having a very bad accent. This was 
 not the type of group to whom he could speak in Yiddish. 
 
 I tugged at his sleeve, to get him to sit down, but Dr. Hirsch, 
 who sat nearby, said: "Let him alone. We want to hear from a 
 man of his type." 
 
 So Harris began, speaking in the sing-song manner of the 
 Talmudic student, and this was his argument: 
 
 "Immigrants who come to the United States," he said, "as a 
 rule have relatives or friends here who will advise, guide and 
 assist them in every way. If they do not learn the language for a 
 while, they can converse in their own language, and in a short 
 time they feel at home. But, if you send them to Cuba or to 
 Mexico, where they have no friends or relatives, and where the 
 language is a mixture of Spanish and Latin, which is more difficult 
 than English, and where the countries are very poor, they will be 
 a great deal more miserable there, than they were in the countries 
 from which they came. 
 
 "I would make this suggestion. I would say that for every 
 immigrant who comes to New York, let one of you gentlemen 
 send your son or your friend's son away to Cuba, and let the 
 immigrant remain here to take his place. Your sons or brothers 
 or relatives are already well'tcdo. They know the language and 
 are Americanized, and they can help themselves a hundred times 
 better in Cuba or Mexico than can the poor, forlorn, bewildered 
 immigrant who comes from a small town in Poland or Russia. 
 
204 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "For example, Mr. Kraus, I understand, has several sons. He 
 is well'tcdo, and they are Americans. Let Mr. Kraus send his 
 sons to Cuba, and in their place take in the same number of 
 greenhorns, and in that way both countries and both sides will 
 benefit. " 
 
 Harris' manner of expression, his gesticulations and Talmudic 
 singsong were so humorous that Dr. Hirsch and the other men 
 present could not help but smile. But Harris continued: 
 
 "A poor immigrant hopes and waits for the time when he will 
 reach New York or Chicago, so that he can escape poverty and 
 oppression, and meet his well'to'do relatives and friends, with 
 whom he can talk for weeks about his landsmen,' and tell all 
 kinds of interesting stories. Just then one of Mr. Kraus' represent 
 tatives will say to him, k You cannot stay in the United States, 
 because you will be too much for us. You must go to Cuba.' 
 
 "Supposing you had the power to enforce this, can you imagine 
 how inhuman that would be? But you cannot enforce it, and the 
 relatives of the immigrant will be right when they answer, 'You 
 send your son to Mexico, and he will stay here.' What will you 
 answer them, and how can you accomplish it?" 
 
 Dr. Hirsch was following every word, and nodded in approval 
 of everything Harris said. When he finished, Dr. Hirsch broke 
 into applause, smiling and chuckling. 
 
 The folly of the plan thus exposed, someone made a motion 
 to postpone the matter indefinitely, and that was the end of that 
 great undertaking. 
 
 Mr. Kraus devoted a great deal of his time and ability to pro' 
 mote the welfare of the Jews in this city and elsewhere, and was 
 one of the foremost representatives of Chicago Jewry to his last 
 day. As a monument to his activities stands the Covenant Club, 
 founded in 1917, while he was serving as international president 
 of B'nai B'rith. The Club has become a center for those interested 
 in the social, cultural, philanthropic and religious life of the city. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 205 
 
 Mr. A. B. Seelenfreund, who was for many years secretary of 
 B'nai B'rith, worked hand in hand with Mr. Kraus, not only on 
 this project, but in all movements concerning Jewish welfare. 
 
 * * * 
 
 There came to Chicago a great and famous European Rabbi, 
 known by the name of Ridvos. He was a philosopher and Tal' 
 mudic scholar, and the author of many important books on 
 religion. He delivered several lectures here on the Bible and the 
 Talmud, and a movement was set afoot to engage him to act as 
 Chief Rabbi of Chicago, although he had already received a 
 similar invitation from New York. We already had some fifteen 
 or twenty synagogues in the city, each with its respective Rabbi. 
 A meeting of the leaders of the various synagogues and other well 
 known Jews of the city was called to discuss the proposal. My 
 brother, Harris, and I were invited to attend. 
 
 We found that those for and against the proposition were 
 about evenly divided. The floor was given first to those opposed to 
 engaging the Rabbi. Their chief argument was that the appoint- 
 ment would create jealousy and misunderstanding among the 
 other Rabbis and among the officers and leaders of the synagogues, 
 giving rise to quarrels and friction. Since Rabbi Ridvos was an 
 exceptionally pious and saintly man, they said, he would not be 
 able to bear such unpleasantness. His fine character, they argued, 
 could not endure the strain, and it would undoubtedly undermine 
 his health and perhaps cause his death, for which calamity we 
 would be responsible. 
 
 It was apparent that the majority would vote against engaging 
 the Rabbi, when Harris asked to be heard. He reminded the 
 gathering of the greatness of the Rabbi and of the wonderful 
 influence his presence would have on the Orthodox as well as 
 the Reformed Jews of Chicago. 
 
 "You are afraid," he then continued, "that there will be so 
 much friction that Rabbi Ridvos will not stand the strain, and 
 
206 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 will worry himself to death, and we will be responsible. Well," 
 he stated, "in Chicago we have only about a hundred thousand 
 Jews. There are about seven or eight times as many in New York. 
 The Jews here and in that city have come from the same countries 
 and have lived the same kind of life. So, if it will take a hundred 
 thousand Jews in Chicago six or seven years to worry the Rabbi 
 to death, it will take six or seven hundred thousand Jews in New 
 York only six or seven months to make the Rabbi sick and bring 
 him to his death. Now, the question for us to decide is, what 
 are we to do? Shall we keep him here, where he can live at least 
 seven years, or shall we send him to New York, where he will die 
 in seven months?" 
 
 With this delightful logic he won over the group, and it was 
 decided that the Rabbi remain here. The latter served as Chief 
 Rabbi of Chicago for quite a number of years, until he left for 
 Palestine. 
 
 One Saturday afternoon, Harris asked me to go with him to 
 visit Rabbi Ridvos, who then lived on Roosevelt Road (at that 
 time called Twelfth Street) , near Halsted. Harris loved to spend 
 time with men of this type whenever possible, and took great 
 delight in carrying on discussions and friendly arguments with 
 them, demonstrating his own wit and knowledge while having a 
 high regard for theirs. 
 
 As we approached the Rabbi's home, we saw him coming out. 
 He told us that he was going for a walk, and asked us to accom- 
 pany him. As we strolled along Roosevelt Road, between Halsted 
 and Desplaines Streets, we came upon a Jewish peddler selling 
 strawberries, shouting his wares at the top of his voice. 
 
 Greatly disturbed, the Rabbi stopped and said: "This is one 
 of the greatest crimes that a Jew can commit. To violate the 
 sanctity of the Sabbath in public, in a Jewish neighborhood, is an 
 unforgivable sin. Therefore, I shall have to utter an imprecation 
 upon him." 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS r 207 
 
 With his eyes lifted to heaven, he was about to do so, when 
 Harris took hold of his arm, saying: 
 
 "Just a minute, dear Rabbi. I know that you are a great 
 scholar in Israel, no doubt greater than a good many in this 
 country and elsewhere. You certainly must know what you are 
 doing. But before you curse that man, let us talk it over. 
 
 "If you should see that man riding in a carriage," he went on, 
 "violating the Sabbath for the pleasure of it, and for that reason 
 only, then I would consider him an unpardonable sinner against 
 the Jewish law pertaining to the day of rest, and he would deserve 
 punishment. 
 
 "But just look at him. He is poor and ragged, and his horse and 
 wagon look no better than he. If he calls out his wares, I am 
 sure it is not for the purpose of having fun or getting pleasure 
 out of it, but it must be out of necessity. No doubt, the man 
 has a wife and children, and he is compelled to earn some money 
 in order to give them food and clothing — so he should be cen' 
 sured, but not cursed or condemned. And do not forget that your 
 curse is likely to fall upon his innocent wife and children as much 
 as upon himself." 
 
 The stately Rabbi listened, and then remarked: "Well, in 
 heaven, among the angels, we have the 'Kateger' (accusing angel), 
 and the 'Sanager' (defending angel), so it seems that it is the 
 will of Providence that you should act as this man's defender. 
 Therefore, I shall not carry out my intention. " 
 
 As a rule, I remained silent during conversations of this kind, 
 feeling that I was not sufficiently versed in such things to par' 
 ticipate. This time, however, I spoke up and offered a suggestion, 
 namely, that I would undertake to find out who the man was, 
 what his circumstances were, and whether or not he was com' 
 pelled by necessity to violate the Sabbath publicly. The Rabbi 
 agreed that I do this, and said: "For that I shall bless you." 
 
208 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I laughed and said: "I am afraid that I am so loaded with sins 
 that the blessing of even such a great and pious Rabbi as you 
 would not do me any good. ,, 
 
 Harris thought this remark very much out of place, but the 
 Rabbi replied: "My blessing may reduce some of your sins." 
 
 I inquired about the peddler, and the next day went to his 
 house. I found that he had a wife and three children and that 
 they were very poor and needed every penny he could earn every 
 day in the week. I reported this to the Rabbi, and he thanked me. 
 The blessing, however, was not mentioned. 
 
 * * * 
 
 While in the bottle business, I made many close friends among 
 the dealers, and having gained their confidence, they would often 
 come to me for opinions and advice, relating to various matters. 
 
 One day, a well-established soda water manufacturer of Chi" 
 cago, Mr. I. Levinson, came to see me. He occupied his own three" 
 story building, constructed for that purpose, on Roosevelt Road 
 (then Twelfth Street), and was doing very well, but wanted to 
 give it up and retire. He wanted advice as to how to go about 
 disposing of it. I advised that such a business would have to be 
 sold just as it stood, in order to yield a satisfactory return, and 
 told him I would try to find a customer who would take it over 
 intact. 
 
 In considering possible prospects, I thought of my beloved 
 friend, Mr. Goldstein, with whom I used to live. He was then 
 in the bottle business on Canal Street, with his two boys, and 
 was doing fairly well. Still, I knew that if his sons should marry 
 and have families, the business could not support them all. 
 Accordingly I suggested to Mr. Goldstein that he take over the 
 soda water business of Mr. Levinson, and since I knew he did 
 not have enough capital to do so, I offered to advance him the 
 necessary funds and let him consider me as his partner in the 
 business until the loan was repaid. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 209 
 
 He found this to his liking, and within a week, Mr. Goldstein 
 and his sons took over the soda water concern. They did so well 
 that my loan was paid within a short time; in fact, the business 
 progressed to such an extent that Mr. Levinson wanted to buy 
 it back; but this, of course, Mr. Goldstein and his sons refused 
 to consider. 
 
 They carried on the business for many years, during which 
 time the sons married. Mr. Goldstein became quite a leader in 
 his circle, and was elected president of his synagogue. The family 
 lived very happily until, alas, Mr. Goldstein suddenly took sick 
 and that was the end. His passing away was one of the losses I 
 felt most keenly. The last time I saw him was at the hospital, two 
 days before he died. Neither he nor anyone else realized his 
 danger, although his illness was quite severe. As was usual with 
 him, he accepted his condition with good-natured resignation. 
 
 "After all," he said to me, "we are born to die. It is only a 
 question of when. A few years more or less make no difference, 
 so long as our children are grown up and can take care of them- 
 selves." 
 
 When I asked him if he was receiving good treatment, he 
 pointed to a nurse who was approaching, and described how 
 sweet and considerate she was to him. When she brought him a 
 drink of water, he was so pleased that he repeatedly praised her 
 for her kindness. 
 
 I could not help but think how fortunate is the man who pos- 
 sesses such optimism. Instead of bemoaning his fate, as so many 
 others would have done, Mr. Goldstein kept telling me how nice 
 people were to him and how lucky he was that he could afford 
 to go to a hospital and receive skilled treatment. 
 
 "Imagine," he said, "how bad it would be if we did not have 
 such an institution and such fine doctors and nurses." 
 
 I was unable to hide my tears, and when I left him, he con- 
 soled me, instead of my encouraging him. He assured me that he 
 
210 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 would be all right in a few weeks and would then be rid of a bad 
 sickness. Two days later, a Rabbi and my brother, Harris, 
 eulogised him in the synagogue and at the cemetery. 
 
 Knowing how attached I was to Mr. Goldstein, his family 
 insisted that I also say a few words. I hesitated, afraid that I 
 would be overcome by emotion and break into tears. But, unable 
 to refuse their request, I complied as best I could. I told the large 
 gathering how Mr. Goldstein was the first man in Chicago who 
 received me cordially and with open arms, and under whose roof 
 I found a home, kindness and understanding when I was an utter 
 stranger in a strange land. I told them how his kindness and 
 consideration had made such a deep impression upon me that I 
 would remember it to my last day. I described his fine character, 
 and his marvelous optimism, even when on his deathbed, and 
 how pleased he was with the way people treated him in the 
 hospital. So deeply touched were the mourners that they gave 
 way to weeping and wailing, and I could go no further. 
 
 That experience was one of my saddest — to part with a good 
 man and a good friend, who was in the prime of life. 
 
 * * * 
 
 During the time I lived with the Goldstein family, I became 
 acquainted with a young man by the name of Herman Harrison, 
 a distant relative of Mrs. Goldstein, who came often to visit 
 them. No doubt, his chief reason for coming so frequently was 
 that Anna, the Goldsteins' daughter, was a very good'looking 
 and clever girl. Though both of them were very young, it was not 
 long before they became engaged. 
 
 Herman was one of those immigrant boys who had rapidly 
 become Americanised. He spoke and wrote English well, had 
 very fine manners, and was altogether a likable fellow. I was 
 very fond of him, but Mr. Goldstein felt that he was too nice 
 and had "too many manners," and complained to me several times 
 that he acted with "too much dignity." 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 211 
 
 When I asked Mr. Goldstein to be more explicit, he explained: 
 "At the supper table, he always lifts the plate of bread, or the 
 sugar, or the butter, and offers them to me, asking if I want 
 some." 
 
 I asked why he should object to this, and he replied: "This 
 fellow ought to know that this is my house, my table and my 
 food. If I want anything, I will take it. It looks to me very 
 foolish and queer when he takes the bread and asks me if I want 
 some, or the sugar, or anything else." 
 
 I explained that Herman was only trying to do the right thing, 
 and Mr. Goldstein, being a very good-natured individual, over' 
 looked these little "faults." 
 
 As young Harrison did not consider himself to be in the "green' 
 horn" class, he refused to engage in peddling or similar enter' 
 prises. Instead, he secured a position with Nelson Morris and 
 Company, one of the large packing houses of the city. He worked 
 for a while as assistant bookkeeper, and later became secretary 
 to one of the officers, at a salary of $15.00 a week. 
 
 Not long afterward, Anna and Harrison were married. 
 Although in those days, $15.00 a week was looked upon as a fair 
 salary, it still was not enough to live on very comfortably. 
 
 Thinking well of both of these young people, and wanting to 
 see them get along, I advised Harrison to try to find some kind of 
 business which he felt he could handle, in which case I would 
 advance the necessary money to get him started, and he would 
 receive a salary and half of the net profit of such an enterprise. 
 A few months after I made this suggestion, he was advised by 
 one of the managers of Marshall Field & Company that it would 
 be profitable to start a neighborhood dry goods store on the 
 Northwest Side. I approved of the idea, invested $5,000.00 and 
 received $3,000.00 credit from Marshall Field & Company, and 
 the store was opened. 
 
212 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 The business began to pay almost from the very first day. 
 Herman and his wife both worked very hard, and continued to 
 make money. At the end of a few years, when the assets amounted 
 to much more than what I had invested, I told them that I did 
 not feel it was fair that, with them working so hard, I should get 
 half of the profit, and proposed that I take out my share, in 
 installments, so that they would eventually own the business 
 themselves. Of course, they were very pleased, and in time I drew 
 out my investment, leaving the business to them. 
 
 When their children grew up, they also came into the store, 
 
 and Harrison became a wealthy man. Unfortunately, however, 
 
 he suffered heavy losses during the depression, which caused his 
 
 death. 
 
 * * * 
 
 My business and that of my brothers went fairly well for a 
 time, but soon competition grew keen. When I had first started 
 in the bottle business, there were only two others so engaged — a 
 German Jew by the name of Sanger, and an Irishman, by the 
 name of McLellan. After my brothers and I became established, 
 a good many others followed our example, until there were over 
 forty men dealing in used bottles, in this city. 
 
 I felt it advisable, since there were so many, to form an organ' 
 ization of all the bottle dealers, and accordingly called a meeting 
 of a few of the principal dealers to discuss such a project, and 
 work out a plan. Shortly afterward, we called together all the 
 men in our line, and an organisation was formed, under the cop 
 porate name of the Chicago Bottle Dealers Association, of which 
 I was made president. 
 
 Harris was a member of the Association, and I insisted that he 
 attend one of our early meetings — either the second or third, 
 I believe it was. One of the questions under discussion on this 
 occasion was to decide how often we should meet. Some thought 
 that once a month would be sufficient, while others insisted that 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 213 
 
 we should have two meetings a month. I noticed that Harris was, 
 as usual, reading a book and not paying the slightest attention to 
 what was going on. In order to "liven up" the meeting a little, 
 I called on him, in my capacity as chairman, and admonished him 
 that this was a business meeting and not a library. He promptly 
 replied that, although he was not listening to what was going on, 
 he knew that the proceedings were much less important than the 
 book. 
 
 "But it is important," I told him. "We must decide upon how 
 often to have meetings. There are two opinions. One group wants 
 to have a meeting once a month, and the others want to have 
 meetings twice a month. What do you think?" 
 
 "The best thing," he remarked carelessly, "is to compromise 
 and satisfy both parties. Therefore, I propose that we should have 
 only one meeting, but it should last the whole night." And he 
 went back to his book. 
 
 The business in which we were engaged consisted of buying 
 daily large quantities of various types of used bottles, such as 
 milk, soda water, beer, wine and liquor bottles. Some had the 
 owners' names blown into the glass. They were purchased by 
 peddlers from housewives, hotels and stores, along with various 
 kinds of waste material. We would wash and sort the bottles 
 according to size, grade and name. Those without names would 
 be sold to anyone who wanted to buy, while the bottles with 
 names imprinted would, as a rule, be resold to the original 
 owners. 
 
 The distributors of the various beverages whose names were 
 blown into the glass, used to charge their customers for the 
 bottles. In doing so, they lost ownership of them; yet whenever 
 they bought the bottles from us, they felt that they were paying 
 for their own property and resented doing so. These different 
 brewers, soda water distributors and milk dealers finally got to' 
 gether. They formed three respective organizations, and engaging 
 
214 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 a lawyer (a Mr. Cummings) to represent them, they decided to 
 let the courts determine whether or not they were entitled to the 
 return, free of charge, of the bottles bearing their names. 
 
 Mr. Cummings discovered an old law, which could be inter' 
 preted as in favor of his clients, and the latter thereupon began 
 to annoy the members of our Association with replevin and 
 search warrants in an effort to take their bottles from us. We 
 were able to adjust each such incident by compromise, but finally 
 the matter became too annoying, and we decided, at a special 
 meeting, to fight the case through the courts. 
 
 As president of the Bottle Dealers Association, it fell upon me 
 to map our course of action. We engaged an attorney by the 
 name of E. N. Zoline, and for a long time there was continuous 
 litigation. 
 
 We made a test case of one suit. It was tried before a Justice 
 of the Peace, and we then took it from one court to another, 
 until it reached the Supreme Court, where we received a decision 
 in our favor. However, the Brewers Association, which consisted 
 of wealthy and powerful concerns, would not give up so easily. 
 They sent their lawyers to Springfield to introduce a new act, 
 making it an offense for a dealer to buy, sell or have in his pos- 
 session bottles with their names on them. 
 
 To fight such action, our attorney spent weeks in Springfield. 
 He was successful in defeating the bill with the Committee, but a 
 year later the matter was again taken up at Springfield, and the 
 law was passed. We continued fighting, however, and finally, 
 after a great many conferences, the controversy was straightened 
 out in a manner satisfactory to both sides. It was agreed that we 
 would be allowed to handle the bottles, but that the various firms 
 involved would set the prices that we were to pay and the prices 
 we were to receive. 
 
 The prolonged litigation was mentioned frequently in the news- 
 papers, and I, of course, received a share of the publicity. I soon 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 215 
 
 became known as the representative of the bottle dealers. 
 Although it was acknowledged among the brewers and bottlers 
 that I had been the leader of the opposition, yet when any of 
 them needed bottles of any kind, with or without names, they 
 would, as a rule, give me the first chance for the business. 
 
 Through all this publicity, I became known to brewers outside 
 of Chicago, such as Anheuser-Busch, American Brewing Com- 
 pany and the William Lamp Brewing Company in St. Louis and 
 other large cities. Gradually my business grew, until I became a 
 wholesale, as well as a retail, dealer in bottles, selling by carloads, 
 and quite often I would receive an order for as many as ten or 
 fifteen carloads at a time. 
 
 Later on, about twenty members of the soft drink bottlers asso- 
 ciation seceded and formed their own organisation, and I was 
 appointed the exclusive agent to handle the bottles for them. The 
 Milk Dealers' Association, headed by representatives of the 
 Borden and Bowman dairy companies, then called me in, and 
 they also appointed me as their exclusive agent to handle their 
 milk bottles. I thereupon gave up the retail part of my business 
 entirely, and operated only on a wholesale basis, doing very well 
 until the outbreak of the World War, when I had to give up 
 this business. 
 
 To manage properly the collection for the above-mentioned 
 concerns, I employed a man by the name of Leonard I. Vitkin, 
 whom I found to be a steady worker, honest, straightforward, 
 intelligent and reliable. Mr. Vitkin is still associated with me and 
 my sons, having been with us for the past thirty-five years. 
 
 It was about the year 1904 that Mr. Vitkin came to me 
 one day for advice. A friend of his, a Mr. Louis Cohen, who was 
 dealing in various kinds of animal hair, chiefly that derived from 
 horses' tails and manes and cattle tails, wanted Mr. Vitkin to go 
 into partnership with him, which would mean an investment of 
 several hundred dollars, on his part. 
 
216 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 When in Tilsit, Germany, I had handled some of this material 
 and had learned something about it. I knew that it was something 
 that was always in demand and could be sold at prevailing market 
 prices almost any time. I accordingly told Mr. Vitkin that my 
 advice would be for him to enter into the partnership. He there' 
 upon left my employ, and went into business with Mr. Cohen. 
 
 Within a short time he was back, with a sad story. He in' 
 formed me that they were losing money, and that his partner, 
 who had invested no money in the enterprise, was careless and 
 inefficient. He was afraid that his investment would be lost, and 
 he again sought my advice. 
 
 We discussed the matter at length, and after considering it 
 from every angle, I gave him my opinion, to this effect — that 
 since it was a partnership, with both men having equal rights in 
 the business, either one might dispose of the assets as he saw fit; 
 and I advised him to take all of the goods on hand and bring 
 them to my place of business, on Canal Street, or store them 
 somewhere else, in his name, for protection. When that was done, 
 I told him, we could decide on the next step. 
 
 Mr. Vitkin followed my suggestion, and brought the goods to 
 my place. I thereupon invited his partner to come to see us and 
 talk the matter over. After a lengthy discussion with both part' 
 ners, I came to the conclusion that the business could be developed 
 but that it needed better management and a capital of at least 
 six to eight thousand dollars, in addition to the current invest' 
 ment. 
 
 We accordingly formed a corporation, under the name of the 
 Horwich' Vitkin Company, and each one was assigned to certain 
 duties. Mr. Cohen was to do the buying, Mr. Vitkin was to take 
 care of the inside work, and I was to handle the financial end. 
 After trying this out for several months and finding we were 
 still losing money, it was decided that Mr. Cohen should retire, 
 while Mr. Vitkin and I remain in the business to see whether we 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 217 
 
 could recover our losses. After Mr. Vitkin thought it over, how 
 ever, he decided that he would prefer to stand his loss and retire 
 from the hair business, returning to my employ, as before. 
 
 After some discussion, I accepted his proposal, with the under 
 standing that he was also to work with me in the hair business, at 
 a fixed salary, in addition to which he was to receive a certain 
 percentage of any earnings from the business after all former 
 losses were recovered. 
 
 From that time on, we concentrated on learning more about 
 the hair business, and gradually began to make money. Within a 
 short time, we recovered our losses, and soon we were showing 
 a profit every month and making progress. The Horwich' Vitkin 
 Company has now been in existence over thirty-five years. A sub- 
 sidiary company was subsequently developed and incorporated 
 under the name of the Chicago Curled Hair Company, and the 
 latter firm is now thirty years old. 
 
 At this time, I would like to relate an experience I had, during 
 those early days in the hair business, with an American business 
 man, who admitted to being anti-Semitic. I feel it is pertinent 
 because today the air is filled with talk of the Jewish question. 
 
 A Mr. Marshall, a fine-looking, elderly man, would come to 
 Chicago every two or three weeks for the purpose of making 
 purchases of cattle hair, and so forth, for his concern, which had 
 a branch office on Lake Street. I was anxious to sell him, but for 
 about stx months tried to see him without success. Every time 
 I presented my card, I was informed he could not see me. Finally 
 I made it my business to find out just where his private office was, 
 and learned that it was located on the second floor of the build- 
 ing. I rushed in one forenoon, without stopping at the reception 
 desk, rapped at his door and was inside before he knew it. 
 
 "Mr. Marshall," I said, "you must excuse me. Being in a great 
 hurry, I took the liberty of running in on you without getting 
 permission from the information desk downstairs." 
 
218 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 He gave me a very unpleasant look and told me that it was 
 rather indiscreet on the part of a stranger to force himself into 
 his office. 
 
 "You are perfectly right, Mr. Marshall,' 1 1 replied. "But I have 
 tried to have the pleasure of meeting you for about six months. 
 Not being permitted to do so, I have had to resort to this un' 
 dignified method. I know," I continued, "that you are buying 
 large quantities of the material which I have for sale, and on 
 which I can do much better than my competitors. Here are my 
 samples." 
 
 Mr. Marshall looked annoyed and said rather harshly: "I do 
 not want to see your samples, and I do not want to do any 
 business with you. If you want to know the reason, you can 
 have it." 
 
 Thinking that it was a question of quality or price, I said: 
 "Very well, Mr. Marshall, I shall be glad to hear the reason." 
 
 "The reason," he stated, "is because I do not want to do any 
 business with Jews." 
 
 Of course, I was taken aback, and stood for a moment non' 
 plussed. Then, regaining my self "control, I picked up my samples, 
 and said: 
 
 "I am really sorry that I did not know this before. Had your 
 information clerk told me this in the first place, I would not have 
 come here so often, and certainly would not have disturbed you 
 now. Goodbye," I added, and started to go. 
 
 As I was about to open the door, he called me back. 
 
 "Did you hear well what I said?" he asked. 
 
 "Sure, I did, Mr. Marshall. You do not want to do business 
 with me because I am Jewish, so that settles it." 
 
 "Don't you feel at all offended?" he inquired. 
 
 "You are entitled," I remarked, "to your likes and dislikes, as 
 well as I am. You don't like to do business with me because I am 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 219 
 
 Jewish. I don't like to do business with some people for other 
 reasons, so why should I be offended? 1 ' 
 
 "You are a very peculiar man," he said. "Well, let's see what 
 you have. ,, 
 
 I showed him the samples and gave him the prices. 
 
 "How can I depend on it," he asked, "that the material you 
 will ship me will be the exact quality of the sample?' ' 
 
 "I will ship you a carload of this cattle hair," I answered, "and 
 on its arrival at your plant, if you find that the quality of the 
 shipment is not exactly like the sample, which I am leaving here 
 with you, you can hold that carload at my disposition, and not 
 release it until I pay you for the trouble and expense that you 
 have incurred on account of rejecting the purchase." 
 
 Mr. Marshall called in his stenographer and asked me to dictate 
 this agreement. Three days later the carload was shipped, and a 
 few days after the arrival of the shipment I received a check in 
 full. From then on I did business with him for many years, and 
 there was never a question of quality nor a question of price. Our 
 association lasted until his death, when the firm gave up that 
 branch of the business. 
 
 About two years after our first meeting, he told me, in the 
 presence of others, that the reason he gave me a chance to do 
 business with him was because I did not start to argue with him 
 when he told me that he did not want to deal with Jews. He said 
 that whenever he had made that statement before, in every in' 
 stance the person to whom he said it would fly off the handle and 
 start abusing him, trying to force him to like him against his will. 
 
 I relate this experience as a suggestion to some of my sensitive 
 fellow Jews, who write and shout from the housetops, "Anti' 
 Semite," at the slightest provocation. My advice, in such a situa' 
 
220 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 tion, is to be calm and adopt a sensible attitude, instead of trying 
 to gain one's point through abuse. 
 
 My brother, Sam, who lived in Milwaukee, would come to 
 Chicago quite often, and we brothers would all meet to have 
 dinner together, and discuss our affairs and other topics of com" 
 mon interest. At these gatherings, if anyone was worried or dis' 
 turbed, Harris would come forward with his philosophy and op' 
 timism. If any of us complained about business or was pessimistic 
 because of increasing expenses, or had some other problem, Har- 
 ris' words calmed and encouraged us. 
 
 "Here we are," he would say, "five families, some of them 
 rather large — and a large family in Europe. Even though we are 
 growing older, we can still proudly say that we have a father who 
 is over eighty and a mother about the same age. We hear of no 
 illness and we hear of no deaths. So far as we know, everyone 
 makes at least a fair living, and no one has cause to complain 
 about his health, which is the most important thing in life." 
 
 He would go on to cite historical cases and relate what had 
 happened to this or that great family, concluding that we should 
 consider ourselves very fortunate and happy. He frequently ad' 
 vised us against trying to accumulate too much wealth, citing the 
 Talmud to show that great wealth is often a great misfortune. 
 We should rather try to enjoy ourselves through culture, he 
 would tell us, and not complain about not making enough money. 
 
 Though, as Harris pointed out, we had been quite fortunate, 
 this happy state of affairs did not last. Not long afterward, alas, 
 death began to visit us too often. 
 
 In 1906 I received a cable informing me of the death of our 
 father. It was a great blow to all of us, although the fact that he 
 had lived to be nearly ninety, and had died of old age, was of 
 considerable comfort. 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 221 
 
 Only about eight months later, another cable brought us the 
 sad news that Mother had joined Father in death. It recalled the 
 statement she had made to me the last time I saw her. She had 
 been talking of her children and grandchildren and had expressed 
 the hope that she would live long enough to see them all. But, 
 she added, she wanted Father to have this happiness with her. 
 She always prayed to God, she said, that Father would not be a 
 widower, nor she a widow. When I asked her how such a thing 
 could possibly be accomplished, she replied: "Everything is in 
 the hands of God." Her wish that they both be taken at the same 
 time was very nearly fulfilled, as they both died in the same year. 
 
 In 1908, our youngest brother, Sam, suddenly took ill, and it 
 was necessary for him to come to Chicago for an operation. 
 Harris and I visited him at St. Luke's Hospital, where he was 
 confined for many weeks, and on one of our visits had a rather 
 painful experience. We did not report at the desk on this occa- 
 sion, but went directly to his room. There we saw three nuns, 
 with candles in their hands, kneeling in prayer at his bedside. 
 Sam was covered with a white sheet, so that we could not see his 
 face, and we were terrified, thinking he was dead. Harris was 
 unable to speak and nearly collapsed. We waited at the door until 
 the nuns came out, sick with fear. But to our great relief, one of 
 the nuns said, smilingly, "Thank God, the worst is over.'" 
 
 When I asked her why they had been so deep in prayer, she 
 replied: "Though the crisis is past, he is not well yet, and we 
 have been praying for his recovery." 
 
 In a few weeks, Sam was well enough to return to Milwaukee. 
 But not long afterward, we were stunned by the news of his 
 death. It happened so unexpectedly that we could hardly believe 
 it. My three brothers and I had been having lunch in Lieberman's 
 Restaurant on Roosevelt Road, one day in December, 1908, when 
 I was called to the telephone, being informed that it was a long 
 distance call from Milwaukee. I assumed it was Sam who was 
 
222 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 calling, because he had often 'phoned us at that restaurant during 
 the noon hour. Instead, I heard the excited voice of his book- 
 keeper saying that Sam's hat had been found floating in the 
 Milwaukee River, and no one knew what had become of him. 
 (The building was located on the edge of the river.) I instructed 
 the bookkeeper to see what he could find out and call us back as 
 soon as he could. Ten minutes later, he called back, relating the 
 shocking news that Sam had fallen into the river, and they had 
 recovered his body. This was the greatest calamity that had 
 befallen us. 
 
 We left at once for Milwaukee, but hesitated to face Sam's 
 family, as they were as yet unaware of the tragedy. None of us 
 felt equal to the ordeal of telling them the truth. Accordingly, 
 we asked a friend of ours in that city, a Mr. Gartenstein, to break 
 the sad news to them. This painful task over, I suggested that 
 they all go to Chicago that very evening, and that I would remain 
 in Milwaukee to arrange the matter of bringing Sam's body to 
 Chicago. When I returned, about noon the next day, I was met 
 at the station by a large crowd of friends and fellow-Zionists. 
 
 Sam was laid to rest, and there were now only four brothers, 
 instead of five. It took us years to get over this tragedy. The one 
 most deeply affected was David, who had come to this country 
 with Sam, and was especially close to him since they had married 
 two sisters and were together in business. He knew best how 
 lovable and charitable Sam was, and was simply unable to get 
 over his loss. 
 
 Sam's widow, who was thirty-six years old at the time, was 
 left with five children, three boys and two girls. She had a little 
 money, but not enough to support herself and the children for 
 long. With a little assistance from us, however, she managed to 
 rear them, bringing up five very fine men and women. The oldest 
 son, David, is a lawyer; Fillmore, the second son, is an auditor; 
 and Julius, the third son, is employed by a stock and bond con- 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 223 
 
 cern. Her daughter, Evelyn, is married to an unusually fine person, 
 Mr. Abe Klonek, who is a gentleman in every respect and a good 
 business man. The other daughter, Violet, is also happily married, 
 her husband being Henry Wenk. 
 
 Very often we hear about the love of a mother, especially the 
 love of a Jewish mother, for her children. A mother like Lena, 
 the widow of our youngest brother, however, is, I sincerely be- 
 lieve, one in a million. When her husband died, she devoted her 
 life to her children, and today, although in her late sixties, and in 
 poor health, she is still anxious and concerned about them, and 
 interested in whatever they do. She is with them as much as 
 possible, and when away from them, writes almost daily. While 
 they were growing up, she did all the housework herself, working 
 day and night for their comfort and well being. In spite of her 
 difficulties, she was always smiling and contented. She never 
 complained, and frankly refused sympathy. She has been rewarded 
 with as fine children as can be found in any family. 
 
 Alas, it was only about four years after Sam's passing that 
 David died. Without warning, he suffered an acute attack of 
 appendicitis. We rushed him to a hospital, where he underwent 
 an operation, and on October 29, 1912, he passed away. 
 
 If the accidental death of our youngest brother, Sam, was a 
 calamity, the unexpected and sudden death of David was a 
 tragedy beyond description. We had always regarded David as 
 the kindest and most lovable among us — the gentleman of the 
 family. He was loved and admired by all with whom he came in 
 contact, either in business or socially. 
 
 Among those who attended the funeral was Mr. Webb, 
 founder of the Thomas J. Webb Coffee Company. Standing 
 beside the coffin, he repeated many times, with tears flowing from 
 his eyes: "Our good Dave! Poor, poor Dave! So sudden, and so 
 young!" He spoke with such emotion that I feared he would 
 
224 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 be overcome, and I had to support him and lead him away from 
 the coffin. 
 
 David left a wonderful wife and seven children, all of whom 
 grew up to be fine men and women, under the loving care and 
 guidance of their widowed mother. 
 
 Philip, the oldest, is like his father in every respect, and, like 
 him, is admired and esteemed by all who know him. 
 
 Ben is a well-known business man, as are Milton and Abe. 
 
 Adeline is married to Mr. Harry Phillips, a very fine person, 
 and Belle is married to Mr. Jack Shapiro, who is an exceptionally 
 straightforward and able business man and possesses an unusually 
 fine mind. 
 
 Irving passed away several years ago. 
 
 * * * 
 
 My brother Henry's business prospered amazingly. The firm 
 of Davis & Horwich became known throughout the country, and 
 was constantly increasing its output, employing hundreds of men. 
 
 One day prior to my brother David's passing, Mr. Davis came 
 to me and informed me that at Henry's suggestion, they were 
 going to take into the business, as a third partner, one of their 
 salesmen, a Mr. Steinman, who was willing to invest $50,000 
 in the firm. The idea did not appeal to me, as I knew they were 
 not in need of additional capital, and I spoke to Henry about it, 
 cautioning him that it would be unwise and impractical to take 
 in a third person. Henry insisted that this was necessary, as the 
 business had grown too large for two men to handle. In that case, 
 I suggested, it would be better that he choose one of his four 
 brothers, rather than a stranger, mentioning David, in particular, 
 the latter being a good business man, and honest and straight' 
 forward in every respect. I also assured Henry that I would see 
 to it that he secured for investment the same amount, $50,000, 
 as Mr. Steinman had offered. Henry, however, refused to con' 
 sider my suggestions. 
 

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FAMILY AND FRIENDS 225 
 
 I was introduced to Mr. Steinman, but not being able to form 
 an adequate opinion, made inquiries concerning him. It appeared, 
 from these, that he would never fit into the business. If the firm 
 really required a third man, he should be a hard worker and an 
 experienced and able business man. I warned Mr. Davis and 
 Henry that sooner or later they would find they had made a 
 mistake, but though I explained my attitude to Henry and rea- 
 soned, and even argued with him, it was to no avail. Within a 
 short time, Mr. Steinman was taken into the business, and the 
 firm name was changed to Davis, Horwich & Steinman. 
 
 Not long afterward, Mr. Davis came to me with unpleasant 
 news. He had learned, he said, that Mr. Steinman was influencing 
 Henry to get rid of him, and he feared they were going to "freeze 
 him out" by making things so miserable for him that he would 
 be compelled to leave, thus losing everything he had. His health, 
 he said, had become impaired through worrying over this state 
 of affairs. 
 
 I could not believe that Henry would really do such a thing. 
 Though he was of an obdurate nature, and self-willed, I knew 
 him to be completely honest, and that he would not commit a 
 wrong against anyone, especially against Mr. Davis, who had 
 built up the business with him. I realised there must have been 
 some outside influence. Determined to straighten the matter out, 
 I reminded Henry that it was through me that Mr. Davis had 
 joined him in the business; that he knew as well as I what a fine 
 person Mr. Davis was, and that I was determined he should not 
 be injured in any way. It was finally agreed, after many discus- 
 sions and debates that Davis would leave the firm, but would 
 receive his full share of the net assets of the concern. The larger 
 part of this was paid to him at the time of the separation, and 
 the balance was paid in installments, with interest. The firm 
 subsequently was operated under the name of Horwich & Stein- 
 man. 
 
226 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 After leaving the company, Mr. Davis went into the real 
 estate business. He was very successful, and became a wealthy 
 man. Though he lost a great deal during the depression, he is 
 still fairly well situated and getting along very nicely. 
 
 To my sorrow, the firm of Horwich & Steinman started on the 
 downgrade soon after Mr. Davis left it. Had not Mr. Steinman 
 received considerable financial assistance from his family, the 
 business could not have lasted more than a few years. As it was, 
 they managed to keep it going for about twelve years, but were 
 finally compelled to give it up. 
 
 Poor Henry realised the mistake he had made, and admitted 
 it; but it was too late. Though he had managed to salvage a little, 
 it sustained him for only a short time. He became ill, and had to 
 receive assistance from his close relatives. He never recovered, and 
 died several years later, of a broken heart. However, his death 
 could not have been considered truly tragic, in view of the fact 
 that he was over seventy years old when he passed away, and had 
 been for a number of years seriously ill and practically helpless. 
 What grieved me most at the funeral, and for a long time after- 
 ward, was that he had brought sorrow to himself and his family 
 by permitting himself to be led astray. By nature, Henry was a 
 good, friendly and charitable man, a hard worker and very ambi- 
 tious, and might have continued to be successful in his business, 
 had he followed a different course. 
 
 Henry was the fifth of the six Horwich brothers to leave this 
 world, and I remained alone. Sitting at the funeral services, sick 
 at heart, I turned to a Rabbi who sat beside me, and quoted a 
 passage from Exodus: "If he came in by himself, he shall go out 
 by himself:' v - |^ 
 
 Alone I came to this country, and alone I will go out. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Henry left six children, Minnie, Philip, Meyer, David, Louis 
 and Frieda. His son-in-law, the late Jake Rosenberg, who was 
 
FAMILY AND FRIENDS 227 
 
 married to the older daughter, Minnie, was a prominent business 
 man of this city, and well known in business circles of New York, 
 Boston and Philadelphia. He was a good husband and father, and 
 showed his fine character in his consideration for his father-in- 
 law, assisting the latter generously, when necessary, to the time 
 of his death. 
 
 I would like to make special mention of Henry's other son-in- 
 law, Ben Aronin, who is married to the younger daughter, Frieda. 
 In character and personality, he is one in a million. Although 
 American-born and raised, and possessing a wide cultural back- 
 ground, he observes strictly the laws of Orthodox Jewry — not 
 in a fanatical sense, but with love and understanding. He believes 
 sincerely in the Creator and in the purposefulness of human life, 
 and inspires others with this belief. He is an outstanding orator, 
 and captures his hearers with his brilliance, enthusiasm and sin- 
 cerity, and his amazing knowledge of any subject he may choose 
 to discuss. In my opinion, he can hold his own with anyone in 
 this city, as a scholar, in matters both religious and secular. I feel 
 I am qualified to render such a judgment because of my contacts 
 with all kinds and classes of people during the past fifty years, 
 during which time I have had ample opportunity to make obser- 
 vations and comparisons. 
 
 Mr. Aronin has written several books, and has just completed 
 a monumental work, called the "Abramiad," an epic of our 
 people. This he wrote originally in Hebrew, and then translated 
 into English. It has been favorably commented upon by several 
 of the outstanding Hebrew scholars in the country. 
 
 He is at home in any group, and in any situation. Above all, 
 despite his versatile gifts, he is unusually modest, and a perfect 
 gentleman in every respect. 
 
 Mr. Aronin is a prominent figure in the Anshe Emet Syna- 
 gogue. This synagogue has grown to great importance and influ- 
 ence, under the spiritual leadership of Rabbi Solomon Goldman, 
 and the sincere and devoted efforts of its president, Mr. Hyman 
 N. Kohn. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 
 
 One day, in the early nineties, I received a letter inviting me to 
 attend a meeting for the purpose of forming an organisation to be 
 known as the Hebrew Literary Society. I showed it to Harris, 
 and he became very enthusiastic over the project. I learned that 
 such a group had been formed once before, under a different 
 name, but due to lack of support, had been dissolved. 
 
 I was not particularly interested in Hebrew, although I had 
 studied it to some extent as a child, in "cheder." During the 
 ensuing years, I had little occasion to use the language and had 
 forgotten a good deal. I went to the meeting only at the insistence 
 of Harris. Against my objections, I was elected an officer, and 
 later I even served as president of the Society. 
 
 The activities of the group were, of course, directed along the 
 lines of Hebrew culture. At each meeting, a member was required 
 to read a chapter from Graets's "History of the Jews" in Hebrew 
 and then review it and comment upon it. When my turn came, 
 I was permitted to read my chapter in Yiddish instead of in 
 Hebrew, and both my reading and my comments were well re' 
 ceived at the meeting. 
 
 The Hebrew Literary Society soon became the headquarters 
 for all social-minded Jews of the West Side. There they held 
 various entertainments, lectures and discussions on all manner of 
 topics. It was there that the first Zionist group in the city was 
 organised, and when the latter grew to be a powerful and effective 
 organisation, the Hebrew Literary Society was absorbed by it. 
 
 The year 1896 was an important one in Jewish life, for it was 
 then that Dr. Theodore Herd published his famous book, "Yuden- 
 staat," in which he advocated the creation of a Jewish state, 
 with its own government, in Palestine. 
 
 228 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 229 
 
 Dr. Herd, the father of political Zionism, was an Austrian 
 Jew. A brilliant young journalist, acting as Paris correspondent 
 for the "Neue Freie Presse" (New Free Press), of Vienna, at 
 the time of the Dreyfuss affair, he was deeply affected by the 
 episode. 
 
 He was astonished to observe how the usually liberal'minded 
 Frenchmen became wild with hatred towards the Jews, as a 
 result of the trial. He saw crowds marching through the streets 
 of Paris, shouting "Down with the Jews," while all the time the 
 guilty individuals and the persecutors of Dreyfuss knew that he 
 was being falsely accused and condemned. 
 
 Convinced of the innocence of Dreyfuss, and realising the un' 
 fortunate man was convicted chiefly because he was a Jew, Dr. 
 Herd decided that something must be done to alleviate the help- 
 lessness of the Jews in such situations and strengthen their position 
 in the world. He set forth his ideas in the book, "Yudenstaat," 
 which created a sensation. It became at once the topic of convex 
 sation and debate among Jews all over the world. Later Dr. Herd 
 wrote another book along similar lines, called "Alt Neuland" 
 (OldNewland). 
 
 The idea of political Zionism, of a Jewish state, was attacked 
 by the American Jews, of the Reformed as well as the Orthodox 
 groups. It was approved by neither the rich nor the poor. The 
 well'to'do Jews proclaimed that we were American citizens and 
 this was our home; that we belonged to the American nation 
 and therefore had no right to form a special Jewish nation; that 
 if we did so, we would be disloyal and unpatriotic. They felt that 
 if the movement succeeded, it would furnish anti-Semites here 
 with an excuse to tell us to go to our own country, thus giving 
 them an additional weapon. 
 
 The Orthodox Jews, headed by their Rabbis, opposed the 
 project from a religious standpoint, claiming that Dr. Herd was 
 
230 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 not interested in the Jewish religion or in Jewish affairs, as such; 
 that Palestine did not have for him a deep religious significance; 
 that nobody had ever heard of him before, as he had taken no 
 active part in Jewish life, and that he was not the proper person 
 to be the leader in such a holy cause. 
 
 Harris, who had been to Palestine, became wild with enthu' 
 siasm over the project, and insisted that I get busy at once and 
 do something about it. I told him that since I knew very little 
 about Dr. Herd's plan, I did not feel qualified to call together a 
 group of people to discuss so important a matter without learning 
 more about the subject. 
 
 Harris, however, was impatient for action, and succeeded in 
 gathering together several men, among them a lawyer by the name 
 of William Jonesi, and prevailed upon them to call a meeting to 
 discuss the plan as outlined by Dr. Herd. The meeting was held 
 a week later in a hall on Jefferson Street, with Mr. Jonesi acting 
 as chairman. About fifty people attended, and the discussions 
 lasted from two in the afternoon until six, with speakers for and 
 against the proposition. 
 
 Harris was the chief speaker in favor of forming an organic 
 tion to further the movement, and submitted innumerable argu' 
 ments. He employed his resources of wit and humor to cause 
 the audience to burst into laughter. Then, changing his style, he 
 described the tragedy of the Jews in Russia, Poland and other 
 countries, stressing the Dreyfuss case, and moved many to tears. 
 His brilliant efforts, however, were of no avail. When the vote 
 was taken, it was found that those present were against the plan 
 about five to one. 
 
 But Harris did not give up. One evening he brought a few well 
 known Hebrew scholars to my home, among them being Mr. 
 Zolotkoff, Dr. A. P. Kadison, and Mr. Wolf Shure, publisher of 
 a Hebrew paper in Chicago. They urged me to call another meet- 
 ing, and would not let me rest until I had promised to do so. We 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 231 
 
 set ourselves to arouse interest in the matter, and within two 
 weeks the meeting was held. Then and there was formed the first 
 organised Zionist group in America, of which I was made presi" 
 dent. It was called, "The Chicago Zionist Organization, No. 1." 
 An energetic young man, Wolf Sudowsky, was elected secretary, 
 and Elias Epstein, a cigar manufacturer, treasurer. It was our 
 intention to form branches, as the movement grew, which would 
 be called by their respective numbers. 
 
 A lone member of the German" Jewish group was present — 
 Dr. Bernard Felsenthal. He spoke in German. He encouraged 
 us, and told us that though he was an old man and would not 
 live to see the fruits of the vast undertaking, he would do every 
 thing he could, until his last day on earth, and in the world to 
 come, to further the cause of Zionism. His words were very 
 impressive, and inspired the new members with enthusiasm for 
 their work. 
 
 Six months later, after our organisation was in full swing, a 
 Zionist group was formed in New York. We had, in the mean" 
 time, increased our membership substantially and had become 
 strongly imbued with the spirit of Zionism. 
 
 Shortly afterward, we read in the newspapers, that Dr. Herz;l 
 was calling upon the Jews of all countries to send delegates to a 
 Zionist Congress, to be held in Basle, Switzerland, in 1897. It 
 goes without saying that we were very eager to send a delegate 
 to such an epochal gathering. Not having sufficient money avail" 
 able in our treasury for this purpose, I called upon all the mem" 
 bers to pledge what amounts they could, and in this way we 
 raised $100.00. We further formed a committee to go from store 
 to store, and from house to house, to collect whatever they could 
 get, from a dime up, so that we might be enabled to send our 
 delegate in a proper manner. For a whole week, I spent half" 
 days collecting, with different partners. It was a very hard and 
 unpleasant task. For every quarter we received, we were treated 
 
232 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 to a dollar's worth of abuse. But finally enough money was raised 
 to defray the necessary expense. 
 
 We chose as our representative, Mr. Leon Zolotkoff, consider' 
 ing him the best man available. He knew English, German, 
 Russian, Yiddish and Hebrew, and was well versed in the philos' 
 ophy of Zionism. When he left for Basle, we were very 
 happy and proud of our achievement. If I am not mistaken, he 
 was the only American delegate to the first World Zionist Con' 
 gress, representing the first Zionist group organised in this 
 country. 
 
 When Mr. Zolotkoff returned from Europe, I went to Buffalo 
 to meet him, and on our way to Chicago, he described to me 
 what had taken place at the Congress. It was all most interesting 
 and inspiring, and his report of the proceedings was listened to 
 eagerly by the members of our group. 
 
 At that time, we decided it would be expedient to change the 
 form of our organisation to that of a fraternal society, with a 
 center in Chicago and branches in and around the city. Within 
 sixty days, we had an organisation known as the Knights of Zion, 
 our group being known as Gate No. 1, and inside of a year, we 
 had ten branches, called "Gates," in various parts of the city 
 and state, and even in other states. The total membership of the 
 organisation had grown to many thousands. I continued as Pres' 
 ident, Mr. Zolotkoff was Secretary, and Mr. Elias Epstein., 
 Treasurer. 
 
 Owing to the press of my personal affairs and my preoccupa' 
 tion with other communal enterprises, I was unable to act as 
 President of the Knights of Zion for more than two years. Mr. 
 Zolotkoff succeeded me as President, with Mr. N. D. Kaplan as 
 Secretary. Later Dr. R. L. Halperin was elected President, and 
 he was succeeded by a young lawyer, Max Shulman, while 
 H. L. Meites became Secretary. 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 233 
 
 In connection with this work, I had a somewhat provoking 
 experience with Mr. Zolotkoff, who though a scholar, an out' 
 standing journalist, a lovable person, and one of the best friends 
 I had, was even worse than my brother, Harris, in practical 
 matters. 
 
 A Zionist bank had been organised in London, under the name 
 of the Jewish Colonial Trust Bank, and every Zionist group was 
 required to buy shares of stock at $5.00 a share. I at once 
 ordered, for my group, if I remember correctly, 3,000 shares, and 
 guaranteed payment for the full amount. The shares were sup' 
 posed to arrive within four weeks after the placing of the order; 
 but we waited two months, and three months, and they did not 
 arrive. We wrote and cabled many times, and each time received 
 word that the shares had been forwarded soon after the order 
 was received, and should have reached us three months since. 
 I was responsible for the purchase and had advertised it widely. 
 I had spoken at meetings and secured subscriptions for the entire 
 lot — but there were no shares. 
 
 One afternoon I stopped in at the office of Mr. Zolotkoff, who 
 was at that time practicing law and writing for the Daily Jewish 
 Courier. As he was not in, I sat down to wait for him. My atten" 
 tion was attracted to a big bundle lying in a corner, half "covered 
 with old and torn papers. Upon investigating, I found there the 
 shares for which we had been waiting so long. I was so angry 
 that I thought it best to take the bundle with me at once, without 
 waiting for Mr. Zolotkoff 's return, so that I might have a chance 
 to "cool off" before I saw him. 
 
 The Zionist movement rapidly grew in importance, and soon 
 one found articles concerning Zionism in the English papers, as 
 well as the Yiddish papers, practically every week, and frequently 
 every day. 
 
 The Chicago Daily Jewish Courier, the only source of infor- 
 mation for thousands of newcomers in and around Chicago, was 
 
234 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 eminently helpful to the cause. This paper, which had been 
 started by Mr. Leon Zolotkoff before the Zionist movement 
 began, was afterwards taken over by a Mr. Sarasohn, publisher of 
 the "Yiddish Tageblatt" (Jewish Daily News) of New York, and 
 finally by Mr. M. Phillip Ginzjburg, of Chicago. Under the lafr- 
 ter's guidance, the paper became the leading organ for the West 
 Side Jews, and in fact, for all the Orthodox Jews throughout 
 Chicago and surrounding towns. It was one of our greatest 
 supports in our work for Zionism, and we had the benefit of the 
 personal advice and cooperation of Mr. Ginsburg, one of the 
 finest and most influential men of the community. 
 
 Also helpful in furthering the movement has been the Chicago 
 Forward, which was established in 1920 as a branch of the New 
 York paper of that name. Although these papers, under the man' 
 agement of the nationally known Abe Kahn, give their chief aid 
 and support to the labor movement and are recognised as cham' 
 pions of the laboring class, they have not forgotten other aspects 
 of Jewish life. They rendered great and valuable service in the 
 matter of relief for European war sufferers, and have cooperated 
 in other communal and welfare work. The Chicago Forward is 
 edited by Mr. Jacob Siegel, who is a fine, level-headed individual, 
 well fitted for his task and well liked by all who know him. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Though encouraged by the Yiddish press, we were criticized 
 by the early Jewish'English papers, and by Rabbis from their 
 pulpits. We were called cheap politicians, hypocrites, Christian 
 missionaries, unpatriotic, and false Messiahs. Quite often we were 
 prevented by the officers of synagogues from holding meetings or 
 speaking about Zionism there. If we tried to speak, the lights 
 would be turned out on us. Even in other meeting places, we 
 experienced like difficulties. 
 
 One of the strongest critics of early Zionism was a man by the 
 name of Yoel Liebling, who came to Chicago, if I am not mis' 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 235 
 
 taken, from Pittsburgh, and started a newspaper here called "The 
 Yiddishe Presse." 
 
 Mr. Liebling was a rather imposing-looking individual, straight 
 and well built. He was quite intelligent — was a Talmudist and 
 Hebraist, and a forceful writer, but extremely critical. He under- 
 stood the psychology of the Jewish reading public and knew that 
 criticisms and attacks on people in public life are eagerly read 
 by the masses. 
 
 Though not an anti-Zionist, actually, he was aware of the weak 
 points of the movement, and on every occasion used his clever 
 and sarcastic pen to expose and ridicule them. He also seemed 
 to take joy in exposing the shortcomings of Orthodox Rabbis and 
 criticizing and belittling some of the outworn traditions and cere- 
 monies of Orthodox Judaism. 
 
 By such tactics, he attracted subscribers and kept increasing his 
 circulation from day to day. Although he was in turn criticised 
 and bitterly attacked, because of his methods, by speakers at 
 various meetings and among people generally, he was regarded as 
 a forceful and clever man and one to be reckoned with, especially 
 by the Jews of the West Side. 
 
 One day, while in New York on business, I received from my 
 brother, Harris, a letter enclosing a clipping from Mr. Liebling's 
 paper. It was quite a long article, defaming in an abhorrent man- 
 ner my father-in-law, Rabbi Anixter. I was quite shocked by it. 
 Harris had been so aroused that he wanted me to write to my 
 two young sons to form a group of their school friends and attack 
 the building where the newspaper was published with gravel and 
 other such small missiles, smashing a few windows and thus 
 bringing the matter to the attention of the general press. Of 
 course, I did not approve of his plan, which I knew had been 
 suggested in the heat of his anger, and wrote to him to that effect. 
 
 I did write him, however, that I felt there were three ways of 
 dealing with this vicious attack upon Rabbi Anixter. One was to 
 
236 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 sue Mr. Liebling for libel if, upon legal advice, it seemed war' 
 ranted. Secondly, since he had attacked the oldest and most 
 venerable Rabbi in Chicago, it should be left to the Rabbis of 
 the city to decide what action to take. My third suggestion was 
 that it might be best simply to ignore the whole matter and let 
 the readers of his paper judge him. 
 
 Being busily occupied with my affairs in New York, I soon 
 forgot about the incident. Some ten days later, I was greatly 
 surprised, on passing a newspaper stand, to see the headline, 
 "Publisher of a Jewish Newspaper in Chicago Excommunicated. " 
 There followed a long article relating why this had been done, 
 and how the procedure had been carried out. The formal excom' 
 munication had taken place in the largest Orthodox synagogue in 
 Chicago. Seated on the platform were all the Orthodox Rabbis 
 of the city, and there was a capacity audience of over a thousand, 
 with many hundreds waiting on the outside, unable to get in. The 
 ceremonies lasted until midnight, when it was formally announced 
 that Mr. Liebling was thereafter to be considered "untouchable," 
 and that according to the Jewish laws, no one was to do any 
 business with him or have communication with him until he made 
 a public apology to the Rabbi, when the ban would be lifted. 
 
 That same evening, I received a long letter from Harris, relat' 
 ing how the Rabbis had come to the conclusion that this "cherem" 
 (excommunication) should be resorted to, how the people had 
 responded, and how the matter was accomplished. The event was 
 mentioned in the principal newspapers of the country and aroused 
 much comment. 
 
 Mr. Liebling finally had to transfer his newspaper to his son, 
 under whose management it continued to appear for many years, 
 with no loss in circulation. The older Mr. Liebling, however, to 
 the day of his death, could not regain his lost power and prestige. 
 
 As for myself, I never did approve of the drastic action taken, 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 237 
 
 and would certainly have tried to prevent it, had I been in Chi' 
 
 cago at the time. 
 
 * * * 
 
 In spite of all the obstacles we early Zionists encountered, we 
 succeeded in securing more members and raising more money, 
 spreading the ideals of Zionism through the press and through 
 speakers, and the movement continued to expand. 
 
 The World Zionist Congress became a permanent institution, 
 and a congress was held every year. We managed to send a dele- 
 gate to practically each one. At first, it was a simple matter for 
 anyone who wished it, to become a delegate. The difficulty was 
 to get someone able and willing to make the trip. But this changed 
 as the movement became larger and more important. The Zionist 
 Congress became an epochal event, and the leaders found it neces- 
 sary to restrict the number of delegates and choose them carefully. 
 
 In 1901, I was accorded the honor of being chosen as a dele- 
 gate. It was quite a responsible undertaking for me to go, as at 
 that time I already had four children and a growing business, 
 employing many workers, to look after. My father-in-law, Rabbi 
 Anixter, and my brothers strongly advised against it, arguing that 
 I was not well enough established financially to spare the time 
 and assume the expense of such a trip. I was determined to pay 
 my own way, as I did not consider it dignified or proper to go to 
 the Congress at the expense of the Zionist Organization. 
 
 There were several reasons why I was anxious to go. Among 
 them was the fact that my parents were greatly advanced in 
 years, and I wanted to see them before it was too late. The trip 
 would also give me an opportunity to see again relatives and 
 friends of my earlier days. Especially, however, was I eager to 
 meet Dr. Herd, Dr. Nordau and other celebrities of the Congress 
 and the Zionist movement. 
 
 Those of my friends and acquaintances who were not interested 
 in Zionism or knew very little about it, thought I was a silly 
 
238 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 fanatic. In my heart of hearts, I could not help feeling that they 
 were, perhaps, right. The situation of the Jews everywhere hap- 
 pened to be, at that time, very good, comparatively speaking. 
 Even in Russia and Poland, the Jews were getting along quite 
 well, and here in America, the great majority of Jews were either 
 not interested in Zionism or were opposed to it. 
 
 However, the idea of attending the Congress fascinated me, 
 and I could not give it up. I arranged my affairs as well as pos- 
 sible, and left with the well wishes of all Chicago Zionists. 
 
 When I arrived in New York, I went to see Professor Richard 
 Gottheil, who was then the president of the New York Zionist 
 Organisation. He gave me some instructions about the Congress, 
 all of a general nature, however. The next day I sailed for Ham" 
 burg, from where I would go on to Basle. 
 
 My first thought, when I arrived at Hamburg, was to inquire 
 of people there about Zionism and Dr. Herd. To my great disap- 
 pointment, I could find no one who knew anything about the 
 movement. 
 
 I had an amusing experience in that city. Stopping in at a 
 restaurant for lunch, with a friend, I asked for hamburger steak, 
 but none of the waiters knew what it was. It seemed very strange 
 to me, and I could hardly believe it. My friend, however, ex- 
 plained that the name "hamburger' ' was used only in foreign 
 countries, while in Hamburg proper, they called it "chopped 
 meat." 
 
 Three days later, I arrived in Basle, Switzerland. It was two 
 days preceding the first session of the Congress, but I found that 
 preliminary meetings of various groups were being held. While 
 attending some of these, I met Mr. Jacob De Haas, whom I found 
 to be a lively, energetic little Englishman, and a highly intelligent 
 and very able young man. 
 
 When he asked me whether I had any suggestion to make with 
 respect to the Zionist movement, I replied with two words: 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 239 
 
 "Proper organization. " I went on to explain that idealism alone 
 was not sufficient to attract the masses to the movement. We had 
 to have something concrete and practical, and would have to work 
 out ways and means of inducing large numbers of people to join. 
 He shook hands with me and said: "This is exactly what I am 
 working for, and in time I shall have to come to the United 
 States.' 11 
 
 While I did not see him a great deal during the Congress, as 
 he was kept busy behind the scenes, we remained friends. We 
 kept in touch with each other until he passed away a few years 
 ago, in New York. 
 
 The two days before the opening of the Congress I spent 
 chiefly in getting acquainted. I was pleasantly surprised at the 
 type of men who had come to the Congress. I was awed at the 
 sight of so many imposing personages and thrilled to meet men 
 of importance from almost every country in the world. There 
 were, among them, professors, artists, doctors, lawyers, engineers, 
 men of wealth, learning and distinction, from Germany, Russia 
 and Poland. And chiefly, of course, there was Dr. Herd himself, 
 as well as such men as Dr. Max Nordau, Dr. Mandelbaum, 
 Ussishkin, Motskin and others. I must confess that I felt rather 
 lost among all these outstanding people. 
 
 I shall neyer forget an incident that occurred at the Congress. 
 On my way to the first session, I stopped a poorly-dressed, unat' 
 tractivclooking young man, to inquire regarding the building 
 where the session was to take place. Assuming that he did not 
 understand English, I said to him in German: 
 
 "I am from America, but as I believe you do not understand 
 English, I will speak to you in German. Will you please direct 
 me to the hall where the Zionist Congress is to be held?' 1 
 
 Taking my arm, the stranger replied: "We can talk Yiddish. 
 I am going there, and you can come along with me." 
 
240 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 When we entered the hall, there was great cheering and 
 applause on all sides. At first I thought the applause was for me, 
 because I was an American; but I immediately realized this was 
 impossible, as very few knew me. I, therefore, responded with a 
 faint smile, and my young friend and I sat down. 
 
 Still speaking to him in German' Yiddish, I introduced myself, 
 saying: "We might as well get better acquainted with each other. 
 My name is B. Horwich, and I come from Chicago, in America. 
 May I know your name?" 
 
 "My name," he answered, "is Israel Zangwill, and I come from 
 London, England." 
 
 I was greatly embarrassed and confused, but managed to say: 
 "Well, now I know for whom they applauded. I came pretty 
 near making a darn fool of myself ." 
 
 "Oh, no," he answered, "the applause was for you. They 
 know you are an American, and they expect to get big money 
 from the Americans." 
 
 I happily had a chance to speak to Dr. Herd himself for quite 
 a while. He graciously put me at my ease by "speaking my 
 language." That is, he moderated his conversation in accordance 
 with my Yiddish'German, my comparative lack of education and 
 meager knowledge of world affairs, and my superficial understand' 
 ing of Zionism. 
 
 When I mentioned that I felt Zionism should only mean pro' 
 viding a home for such Jews as are homeless, he patted me on the 
 head and answered: "All Jews have homes, and yet they are all 
 homeless." 
 
 We shook hands, and he asked me to convey his greetings to 
 our Chicago Zionists. In my report, when I returned to Chicago, 
 I mentioned his comment about all Jews being homeless, and my 
 brother, Harris, enlarged upon this, saying: 
 
 "Indeed, we are just like orphans, for orphans have many 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 241 
 
 'mothers, 1 but no 'mother' — and we have many Fatherlands, but 
 no Fatherland." 
 
 Every word that Dr. Herd uttered at the Congress was the 
 word of a diplomat. He commanded respect from everyone 
 present. He possessed great personal charm, and his black beard, 
 coal'black eyes and finely chiseled features made a fascinating 
 picture. He looked like an Oriental prince. In his rulings on ques- 
 tions of parliamentary procedure, on points of order and in the 
 matter of recognising delegates asking to be heard, he proved him' 
 self a master parliamentarian. 
 
 Outside of the meetings, he was very democratic, and, strange 
 to say, seemed ill at ease, nervous and impatient. Anybody could 
 recognise, however, at first glance, that he was a person of great 
 importance. 
 
 Dr. Nordau also was of distinguished appearance. In looks and 
 action he was the typical nobleman. When I introduced myself 
 to him, he lifted his hat and bowed very graciously. Taking my 
 arm, he walked along with me for about twenty minutes, asking 
 questions about America, in which he evinced a deep interest. He 
 spoke an English which was perfect, and far superior to mine, 
 and I soon realised that he knew a great deal more about Amer- 
 ica than I could tell him. When I later heard him address the 
 Congress, speaking in German, I realised that here was a great 
 master delivering a masterpiece. I have often been led to contrast 
 men of the type of Hersl and Nordau with our present'day states' 
 men. 
 
 A Dr. Klee, from Berlin, an intelligent and gentle individual, 
 was chairman of the executive committee, of which I was a 
 member. At the first committee meeting, he asked me for my title, 
 as practically every delegate had one. Everywhere at the Congress 
 one heard, "Herr Fabrikant," "Herr Engineer," "Herr Kaufman," 
 "Herr Professor," and so on. 
 
 Jokingly I told Dr. Klee: "Well, I once acted as a professor, 
 when I instructed my young brother in dancing." 
 
242 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "Very good," he said, "Herr Tans Professor 11 (dancing profes- 
 sor) . And thereafter I was called "Professor 11 by all my Zionist 
 friends. 
 
 I was made a member of the committee appointed to work out 
 plans for the National Fund, of which committee Dr. Klee was 
 also chairman. I did not then know who was the originator of the 
 National Fund project, but later learned that it was Professor 
 Hermann Shapiro, of Germany. Money raised for this Fund was 
 to be used for the purchasing of land in Palestine, to belong to the 
 Jewish people as a whole and to be administered by the National 
 Fund Organisation. 
 
 The proposition had been made to make the raising of the 
 money a "penny 11 affair. The committee felt that it would be easy 
 to induce every Jew in the world to contribute, as often as pos- 
 sible, the smallest coin current in his country, and that thus a 
 large sum would be accumulated. In the United States, it would 
 be one cent; in Russia, if I am not mistaken, one kopek, and so on. 
 They wanted to follow the same system as was used in the 
 "Peter Pence 11 collection of the Catholic world. 
 
 I was strongly opposed to this, and my objection precipitated 
 a four-hour discussion. I argued that we could not compare our- 
 selves with the great, well-disciplined, world organisation of the 
 Catholics, with its several hundred million adherents. My sugges- 
 tion was to agree on a definite sum to be paid annually, for I was 
 sure that it would be much simpler and easier, at least in the 
 United States, to secure from an individual three to five dollars a 
 year, or even more, rather than an accumulation of, say, one 
 hundred pennies. I was, however, overruled. 
 
 The motion for the "penny system 11 was adopted, and stamps 
 were printed for that purpose. I sent samples of the stamps to the 
 London branch of the Chicago Daily News, and when I arrived 
 in London, on my return trip, I saw a copy of that paper, with a 
 long article about the National Fund and pictures of the stamps. 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 243 
 
 This evidenced the interest of the general public in our activities. 
 
 After several years' trial of the above plan, it was proved to be 
 unsuccessful, and the stamps were discontinued. Instead, large 
 sums of money have been raised for the National Fund primarily 
 through special contributions. 
 
 After I had been in Basle several days, I received a telegram 
 from the London branch of the Chicago Daily News, asking me 
 to wire them news about the Congress, which they would for 
 ward to Chicago. I replied that I was not sufficient master of the 
 English language to write a newspaper article; but they stated 
 that all they needed was an outline. I complied with their request, 
 and later was pleased and proud to see the accounts which they 
 published, feeling I had had a share in them. 
 
 * * * 
 
 When the Congress was over, I realised my own plans, and 
 my promise to my brothers, and went to visit my parents, who 
 were still living in Poniemon. 
 
 I had some difficulty getting into Russia. This was during the 
 Czarist regime, and no Jews were permitted to enter without 
 special permission. To my American passport was attached a 
 printed leaflet, warning American Jews, especially those who 
 came from Russia, that they might meet with difficulties should 
 they attempt to visit that country. I had tried to secure a visa 
 from the Russian authorities in Chicago, and from the Russian 
 Consul in New York, without success. 
 
 I now proceeded to the Russian Embassy, in Berlin, hoping to 
 have better luck here. When I stated my request, I was asked to 
 wait for the person in charge. While waiting, I took a cigarette 
 out of my silver cigarette case, and was about to light it, when 
 the official whom I was to see, who was seated at a desk at 
 the end of the room, nodded to me to come over. I complied, and 
 showed him my passport. He studied it, then questioned me, 
 and suddenly asked: 
 
244 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "What kind of cigarettes do you smoke? Are they American?" 
 
 "Yes," I replied. And taking out my case I opened it and 
 offered him a cigarette. I noticed that he admired the fine silver 
 case, and said to him, in German: 
 
 "It would be an honor to me if you would accept this as a 
 token from an American." 
 
 He was greatly pleased and took it very eagerly, cigarettes and 
 all, and without further ado, my passport was approved. I have 
 often wondered whether I would have obtained the visa if I had 
 not had the silver cigarette case. 
 
 With this permission secured, I advised my parents as to when 
 I would arrive, and asked them to meet me at Kovno, Russia. 
 I remained in Berlin a few days longer, purchasing gifts to take 
 with me, and then started out, making a stop first at Koenigsberg, 
 my old beloved city. I wanted especially to pay a visit there to 
 my former partner, Max Perlman. 
 
 In order to travel in a sleeper in Europe at that time, it was 
 necessary to make a reservation one or two days in advance. As 
 I was not aware of this, I was unable to get a sleeper when I 
 purchased my ticket, and had to sit up all night. It was not a 
 comfortable trip. The second class compartments had seating 
 capacity for six persons, there being three seats on each side, 
 facing each other. I found myself in one of them, in the company 
 of five aristocratic young German naval officers. As they did not 
 deign to converse with me, I felt stiff and ill at ease. 
 
 About nine o'clock in the evening, one of the young men said 
 to his companions, "Well, it is time to go to sleep." I was greatly 
 relieved, feeling sure that they had sleeping accommodations else 
 where on the train and that I would now be rid of my dignified 
 fellow travelers. But I was mistaken. One of them turned down 
 the light to a dim flicker, they bade each other good night, and in 
 a few minutes they were all asleep, in a sitting position. 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 245 
 
 With great difficulty, I extricated myself from these tight 
 quarters, and made my way to the aisle, where I stood, leaning 
 against a window of one of the compartments. As the train passed 
 a sharp curve, I was suddenly thrown against the window, break' 
 ing it. Hearing the noise, the conductor came in, and asked who 
 was responsible. Although none of the passengers spoke up, I told 
 him how it had happened. When we reached the next station, 
 the conductor called in the station master and told him the story. 
 He wrote out a report, and from then on I was questioned at 
 every station by an official about the incident, as though I had 
 committed some crime. Finally, I was told I must pay fourteen 
 marks (about $3.50) for the damage done. Though I argued that 
 it was not my fault, I was ordered to pay, or my baggage would 
 be withheld when I arrived at Koenigsberg. One of the pas' 
 sengers advised that I pay, and then file a claim, which I had a 
 right to do. 
 
 We arrived in Koenigsberg at ten o'clock the next morning, 
 and I was glad to leave the train. I lost no time in looking up 
 Mr. Perlman, and was surprised to find that he was one of the 
 outstanding grain merchants of the city, owning half a dosen 
 warehouses. He spent a lot of time with me, taking me with him 
 every day to the Board of Trade, where the grain was bought and 
 sold, and each time I was with him, he bought from fifty to sev 
 entyfive carloads. His secretary accompanied him and made notes 
 of all his purchases. 
 
 He had a large office, employing about fifteen men and women, 
 and it was equipped with a telephone and all the latest office 
 appliances of that time. He would arrive at the office at eight 
 o'clock every morning and issue instructions to each employee 
 for the day's work. Then, at ten o'clock, he would go to inspect 
 the warehouses, which were loaded with grain, and where husky 
 German workmen were busily loading and unloading and doing 
 various other tasks. 
 
246 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I must admit that at the moment I experienced feelings of 
 regret, and even jealousy, for it was I who had started him in that 
 business, as my partner. I was a little hurt that instead of both 
 of us enjoying this prosperity and prestige together, he was now 
 a great grain merchant, while I was just an ordinary dealer in 
 bottles. However, I was consoled by the realization that I would 
 never have been able to continue in business with Mr. Perlman, 
 anyway, for it seemed that the more prosperous he became, the 
 more arrogant and stubborn he grew. He was married to a very 
 fine, good'looking woman, and they had lovely children. I learned, 
 however, from others, that because of his meanness and arrogance, 
 he was very unpopular. 
 
 Though Mr. Perlman became very rich, he lost a great deal of 
 money during the World War. He finally went to Palestine, 
 where his sons and daughters were living, and died there. 
 
 Leaving Koenigsberg, I went on to Kovno. My oldest brother, 
 Aron, was waiting for me at the station, but we did not recognise 
 each other at first. When we finally made ourselves known to 
 each other, my brother was obviously surprised and disappointed. 
 In Russia, all the men, whatever their circumstances, wore fur 
 coats and fur caps in the winter. The wealthy, of course, wore 
 very luxurious and expensive ones, but practically everyone had 
 some kind of fur coat. Aron had on a very fine one, with a 
 very large fur collar, while I was wearing just a plain overcoat, 
 and an ordinary hat. After the handshaking and the greetings, he 
 expressed astonishment that I had come all the way from America 
 so lightly and simply dressed for the winter. 
 
 "We will discuss the Russian and the American ways of dress- 
 ing in the winter months later on," I told him. "Just now, we 
 want to get away from here." 
 
 I learned later that his finery had been borrowed for the 
 occasion. 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 247 
 
 We went in a "droshke" to the hotel where my parents waited. 
 I was disappointed with the appearance of the streets on the way, 
 and with the hotel — a great deal more than my brother had been 
 with my lightweight clothes, and I told him so. 
 
 I was very sad at the sight of my mother. She was suffering 
 greatly with rheumatism and was almost unable to move. She had 
 aged considerably, and had changed so much that I could hardly 
 believe it was she. My father, wearing the American clothes with 
 which we had provided him when he visited us in Chicago, looked 
 fairly well, and, as usual, had a happy and contented expression. 
 
 Mother was sitting on a low chair, and I had to kneel on the 
 floor in order to kiss her. She pulled me to her, and started to cry, 
 lamenting, "Was I so sinful that I do not recognise my own 
 child, whom I raised, nurtured and cradled!" 
 
 Father and Aron stood beside us with bowed heads. It seemed 
 up to me to say something which would brighten the atmosphere. 
 
 "Mother," I said gently, "it is I, and not you, who is to be 
 blamed for your not knowing me. You remember how you always 
 warned us, that if we did not go in the ways of God and follow 
 the dictates of our religion, no good person would recognize us. 
 Now, if you do not recognise me, it must be because I have been 
 wicked." 
 
 This remark brought a change in mood, and we all started 
 to smile. 
 
 Although physically my mother was not at all the vigorous, 
 strong, healthy and good'looking woman she had been when I last 
 saw her, mentally she was just as keen and clever as I remembered 
 her to be. 
 
 We remained one day in Kovno, and then left for Woronowo, 
 where Aron lived with his family. This town, which is a few 
 hours' 1 ride from Wilno, the largest city in Lithuania, did not 
 differ greatly from our little Poniemon and other such small 
 Lithuanian towns. The streets were very muddy — the houses 
 
248 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 were small and shabby. The people, with a few exceptions, were 
 of the poorest, and spent most of their time praying and hoping 
 for better times. Aron lived in a little frame house, with his wife 
 and children. His oldest son, Abram Hers, who had been recently 
 married, had brought his wife to live there, too. This was about 
 five years preceding his coming to America. 
 
 My arrival created quite a stir, especially since I had just come 
 from the Zionist Congress. I was kept busy answering questions 
 about Zionism, America and a hundred other things, and telling 
 my parents and relatives about the other four brothers and their 
 families in Chicago. 
 
 Father still delighted to speak of the happy days he had spent 
 with us in America, and on every occasion thanked God that, in 
 his old age, he was well provided for by his children. 
 
 My mother, on the other hand, was not particularly happy or 
 satisfied. It was difficult to please her, and she even remarked 
 that, though she had no complaints to make against her sons, she 
 had heard of parents who had received even better treatment 
 from their children. 
 
 I tried my best to bring her a little happiness, and told her that 
 when I returned to Chicago, I would propose to my brothers 
 that each year one of us come to visit them, starting with Sam, 
 who was the youngest. Father was overjoyed at this proposal and, 
 with a big smile, exclaimed that such a plan, if it could be carried 
 out with God's help, would cause the greatest happiness that 
 could come to parents. 
 
 "Oh, how wonderful that would be!" he cried enthusiastically, 
 acting like a happy child. 
 
 But Mother interrupted him, shaking her head morbidly. 
 
 "You are still as foolish as you ever were!" she scolded. "You 
 will never learn. Don't you know where you are? Don't you 
 know how old you are? Don't you know what is likely to happen 
 to people of our age any day or any minute? Then why make this 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 249 
 
 silly talk about the pleasure you will have in seeing one of your 
 sons every year?" 
 
 The smile left my father's face, and hanging his head like one 
 caught committing a great wrong, he said sorrowfully, "Yes, I 
 think you are right." 
 
 I felt very miserable over that little scene, and later, when no 
 one was around, I reprimanded Mother very gently. 
 
 "Why did you make that statement?" I asked. "What harm is 
 there for you and Father to live in the happy thought that you 
 will see each year one of your sons? Why be so pessimistic, and 
 talk about death and old age when everything looks so bright and 
 sunny?" 
 
 This displeased Mother, and she answered in the tone of a 
 martyr: 
 
 "Well, I suppose it is God's will that your parents should live 
 in Russia, and have to depend upon their sons in America for 
 support, and that you should come here to lecture your mother 
 and give her instructions as to what to say and what not to say to 
 your father!" 
 
 I stayed on for eight days, and though I did not derive a great 
 deal of comfort from my visit, I was very sad when the time 
 came to leave. 
 
 At the time I was there, the little community was split into 
 two parties. It seems that one faction was dissatisfied with the 
 Rabbi of the town and wanted to engage a new one, while the 
 other faction sided with him and wanted him to remain. Aron, 
 though he had practically no tangible means of support, was 
 nevertheless one of the leaders of the town. He sided with the 
 latter group. In spite of the fact that during my visit, he gave 
 me most of his time and attention, he still found time to plan and 
 maneuver in order to draw as many men as possible to his side. 
 
250 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 When I prepared to re-cross the Russian border into Germany, 
 I very nearly encountered serious difficulty. At that time, Jews 
 who had previously emigrated and returned for a visit, were fre- 
 quently forced to remain. The entire situation was a very deplor- 
 able one. Had I not followed the advice of a fellow passenger 
 to speak only English to the officer who examined my passport, 
 I might have been detained and perhaps got into trouble. When 
 at last I crossed the border, I felt greatly relieved. A few weeks 
 later, I was safely back home. 
 
 The Chicago Zionists arranged a big meeting, followed by a 
 dinner and reception, on my return. Mr. Zolotkoff was chairman 
 of the meeting. The hall was crowded, and my report, which 
 lasted over an hour and a half, was greatly applauded. Both the 
 Jewish Courier and the English press gave this affair much pub- 
 licity. The Zionist movement was now going strong. The efforts 
 of world famous personalities who supported the movement were 
 a tremendous factor in its growth. 
 
 * * * 
 
 I attended in all eight Zionist Congresses, as a delegate. On 
 several occasions, although I did not feel I could spare the time 
 from my family and business affairs to make the trip, my interest 
 in Zionism nevertheless impelled me to do so. 
 
 The two Congresses which impressed me most were the one 
 which I attended, in 1901 (which I have already described), and 
 the one I attended in 1903. At the latter Congress, Dr. Herd, 
 who died about eight months later, was obviously ill. Most of 
 those present knew that he was suffering from a serious heart ail- 
 ment, but in spite of his condition, he presided over the Congress, 
 sitting with ice bags on his chest and back. 
 
 It was apparent to all that he could not have long to live. Yet, 
 certain opponents of his policies had no consideration whatever 
 for the precarious state of his health and criticised and attacked 
 him unmercifully at every session. Chief among these were several 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 251 
 
 of the delegates from Russia. I took it upon myself to call their 
 attention to Dr. Herd's distressed appearance, begging them to 
 "go easy," as it was evident his life was in danger; but their reply 
 was: "Individuals and ideas have nothing in common. We will 
 fight to the bitter end to gain our point, no matter what happens 
 to one man or another." 
 
 When I later heard a speaker describe the current conditions 
 in Russia, I began to understand better the cause for the unrea' 
 sonable attitude of the delegates. At that particular period, 
 throughout Russia, one heard nothing but expressions of rebellion 
 and protest. Rich and poor, he informed us, men, women and 
 children of all classes and religions, held meetings wherever they 
 could, and the entire population was imbued with the spirit of 
 revolution. Rebellion against Czarism was in the air. 
 
 At our Congresses we heard, too often, I am sorry to say, 
 shouts of, "I protest !" In fact, many of the delegates seemed to 
 think it their duty to keep shouting their opposition to all sugges' 
 tions, in the most senseless manner. 
 
 When my brother, Harris, telephoned me one morning in July, 
 1904, and sadly informed me of the passing of Dr. Herd, I was 
 not greatly surprised. 
 
 "I am afraid," I told him, "that some of the leaders of the 
 Zionist movement have contributed largely to his death." 
 
 That my opinion was shared by others was evident at the next 
 Congress which I attended, when many of the delegates asserted 
 that certain leaders, whose names I do not wish to mention, were 
 by their bitter criticism, responsible for cutting short Herd's life. 
 
 I remember the 10th Congress, held in 1911, chiefly because 
 I visited the grave of Dr. Herd, in Vienna. I was accompanied 
 on this trip by Isadore Goodman, the young son of Max Good- 
 man, a well known real estate dealer of Chicago. Mr. Goodman 
 had requested that I take the boy with me, so that the latter 
 might have the opportunity of learning about the Jews of Europe 
 
252 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 and especially about Zionism and the manner in which the Zionist 
 Congresses were conducted. Although the boy was very young, 
 I found him to be a good companion, as he was both interesting 
 and intelligent. 
 
 When the Congress adjourned, I went with Isadore to Vienna, 
 expressly for the purpose of visiting the grave of our unforget- 
 table Dr. Theodore Herd. What I felt there — the impression 
 that visit made on me, I put into writing that same afternoon, 
 in the form of a letter to the Daily Jewish Courier of Chicago. 
 The letter, written in Yiddish, was published by them, and was 
 later translated into English. I am reprinting it here: 
 
 "I have stood in awe before the scenic splendors of nature and 
 with keen fascination have regarded the relics of famous figures 
 in history; I have climbed the snow-capped Alps, have wandered 
 through old palaces like that of the late Franz; Joseph; I have 
 viewed the bed wherein Napoleon slept and in which his son, 
 the King of Rome, the Duke of Reichstadt, breathed his last; I 
 have rested my hand on the chair wherein old Kaiser Wilhelm II 
 sat as he was crowned all-highest of the Deutsches Reich; I have 
 seen the coffins wherein lie a whole troop of German and Aus- 
 trian royalty; I have seen a host of historical monuments and 
 scenes of surpassing beauty, and have gone blithely on my way — 
 until I stood before the grave of Dr. Theodore Herd. There I 
 remained lost in deep revery. 
 
 "To communicate the sacred illumination which emanates -from 
 that simple gravestone, the quickening of the heart it engenders 
 and the penetration it registers in the mind, one would have to be 
 a divinely endowed poet. 
 
 "One feels like winding one's arms about the whole of it, only 
 to weep and weep. . . . Unhappy choice of destiny! Poor Herd! 
 He had everything anyone might desire. He lived like a duke in 
 one of the gayest, pleasure-loving and pleasure-giving capitals of 
 Europe, honored and revered as only a personality like Herd can 
 be, when all of a sudden, he became aware that he was a Jew . . . 
 and now, I stand meditating before his grave . . . 
 
BEGINNINGS OF ZIONISM 253 
 
 "He sought to make provision for his people, to give them an 
 equity among the nations, and he provided himself with heart 
 disease as a recompense; he dreamt of a haven of peace for them, 
 and now he dreams there where he lies in the Vienna cemetery; 
 he wished to provide a land for a people and a people for that 
 land, and received a gravestone for himself . . . 
 
 "Tears well up in my eyes. Are they tears for a prince in 
 Israel, or are they the tears of cowardice that flow as I turn away 
 from the old peasant guide and from my young companion, that 
 they may not see I shed them? No! By no means are they the 
 tears of cowardice. Rather are they tears of shame! I feel the 
 shame deeply that this man who had sacrificed his all that his 
 people might dream and triumphantly win in the end, was, during 
 his lifetime beset with so many anxieties and such discouragement 
 by a lack of faith among his own for whom he surrendered his 
 health and his peace of mind. Yet there were those who dreamed 
 even as he did, else his vision would never have come to its full 
 fruition. 
 
 "I looked upon the grave and saw large wreaths of fresh flowers 
 upon it, around the Mogen'Dovid engraved in the stone. My 
 heart was touched to the quick, seeing that others saw joy and 
 life where I had seen death; those others had brought their gift 
 of flowers while I merely brought my vain gift of tears. I am a 
 Jew and Jews have too long had nothing but tears for the memory 
 of their great men, even for the memory of Dr. Herd. 
 
 "And once more I gased at the tombstone and at the grave 
 and I thought that in that sod beneath me there lay no dead 
 man, for men like Dr. Herd do not die. Graves are for the dead 
 alone, while Dr. Herd truly lives." 
 
 Yes, even as I write these lines I murmur "Amen!" 
 
 My witnesses are the 450,000 of our people who call Pales- 
 tine their homeland, and the millions of others throughout the 
 world who look upon Herd's dream as a vision no longer but as 
 an historic fact that has come to be realised in our own day. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 COMMUNAL WORK 
 
 As time passed I found most of my evenings occupied with 
 community problems. I often remained up until one or two o'clock 
 in the morning, for I found these activities absorbing and inspir- 
 ing, and my work in this connection gave me a feeling of accom- 
 plishment. Most important of all, however, were the Zionist 
 meetings. All of my brothers were members of the organisation, 
 and we were all well known. Very often, when we made our 
 appearance we would hear the remark: 
 
 "The Horwich brothers (or, the five brothers) are here. Now 
 we can start." 
 
 During the year 1902, I received an invitation to attend the 
 annual meeting of the United Hebrew Charities, to which I was 
 a contributor. A Board of Directors was to be chosen at that 
 meeting, and quite unexpectedly, I was nominated (I believe it 
 was by Judge Julian W. Mack) as a director of the board to 
 represent the Jews of the West Side, and was elected. This came 
 to me as a great surprise. 
 
 One of the branches of the organisation was the Jewish Aid 
 Committee, on which committee I was appointed to serve. Its 
 duties were to receive applications for relief, to examine thor- 
 oughly each case and decide what relief should be granted. I 
 found my first meeting with the committee most interesting and 
 instructive. Although it was well attended, I remember only four 
 of those present, namely, Mr. Solomon L. Sulzberger, the chair- 
 man, Mr. Louis C. Cahn, Mrs. Mandel and Miss Miriam Kalisky, 
 the executive secretary. This meeting, as well as the general meet- 
 ing of the United Hebrew Charities, afforded me an opportunity 
 to become acquainted with a group of the so-called "South Side 
 Americanised representative Jews." 
 
 254 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 255 
 
 I must say that I learned a great deal from them as to how a 
 meeting should be conducted. Mr. Sulzberger, the chairman, was 
 a gentleman in every respect, dignified in appearance, demeanor, 
 speech and action. He was sincere and fair, and when he spoke 
 was brief and to the point. He knew exactly what he wanted to 
 say, and everybody understood what he said. I was associated 
 with him for many years afterward in charitable work, and the 
 longer I knew him, the more I admired and respected him. 
 
 At that first committee meeting I attended, Miss Kalisky, the 
 executive secretary, gave a full report of the number of cases 
 receiving help, the number of new cases that had come in, the 
 cases pending, and the amount of money she thought would be 
 required for the following month. Every pending case was then 
 individually discussed and decided upon. There were no argu- 
 ments and no unnecessary questions asked by anyone present. 
 Everything ran nicely and smoothly, greatly in contrast to the 
 meetings of West Side groups which I had attended. 
 
 Being a newcomer, without much experience in mingling with 
 this class of people, I ventured no comments, but sat quietly and 
 listened to the proceedings. In the course of her report, the secre- 
 tary mentioned a family that required considerable assistance. 
 The husband had been without work for a long time, and the 
 family had been receiving relief for over a year. When members 
 of the committee questioned her as to the possibility of getting 
 a job for the man, or advancing him money to start some kind of 
 little business, Miss Kalisky replied: 
 
 "There is no use trying to do anything for him in that line 
 because he is a 'shlemieF and does not amount to much." 
 
 At this I spoke up, asking how many children there were in the 
 family, and Miss Kalisky answered, "Six." 
 
 "Well," I remarked, "after all, he is not such a 'shlemiel.'' He 
 is good for something, anyhow." 
 
256 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Everybody smiled at this, and Mrs. Mandel kept on giggling 
 as long as the meeting lasted. They all seemed to enjoy my 
 comment, and when the meeting was over, one of the members 
 remarked to me that I must come to all of the meetings, as they 
 needed someone like me to "liven up" the dry proceedings. 
 
 Thereupon, I suggested that it might be well for the officers 
 of the committee to attend occasionally some of our West Side 
 meetings — that thus we might learn something from each other. 
 I informed them that the "South Siders" had the reputation of 
 doing charity in the same way they transacted business; that is, 
 being too methodical and dealing only in cold figures, forgetting 
 the sentimental human factors connected with the money paid 
 out for relief. 
 
 I had always had heated discussions on this subject with many 
 of my West Side friends. They argued that the help rendered to 
 the poor by the "Americanised' ' German Jews of the South Side 
 was given without feeling or sympathy — that they placed too 
 much emphasis on system and discipline, which should be disre' 
 garded when it came to dispensing charity. To this I would retort 
 that it was up to the poor to decide — did they prefer to be 
 given shelter, food and clothing, without any display of sentiment, 
 or did they prefer sympathy and pity, without any money to buy 
 necessities? 
 
 At that time, it was almost taken for granted that the South 
 Siders were the ones to give charity, while we of the West Side 
 were the ones to receive it. In later years, however, as the West 
 Side Jews became more prosperous, they also joined the "giving" 
 class. Today many thousands of them contribute quite liberally to 
 philanthropic organisations, although as a whole their contribu' 
 tions do not equal those of the South Side group. 
 
 Besides the work of the Jewish Aid Committee, the United 
 Hebrew Charities raised money, through annual subscriptions, for 
 the maintenance of several important institutions. These were, if 
 

 
 ^ c s 
 
 ^ i- o 
 
 cq o .2 
 ^ s ° 
 
 '■O *» tj 
 
 Sb-H 
 
 o 
 
 ^H^ 
 
 « s 
 
 . -~y- ' 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 257 
 
 my memory serves me right, the Michael Reese Hospital, the 
 South Side Jewish Orphan Home and the Home for the Aged. 
 The name was later changed to The Associated Jewish Chari' 
 ties, and some years ago this organisation merged with the 
 Federated Orthodox Jewish Charities of Chicago, about which I 
 will say more later. The name was later changed again, this time 
 to the Jewish Charities of Chicago, which is its present name. 
 
 From local Jewish communal problems my attention was sud- 
 denly drawn by a tale of horror that numbed the senses. 
 
 In the year 1903, the press of the world carried the horrifying 
 news of a terrible pogrom that had taken place at Kishinev. The 
 butchery and the pillaging had lasted three days, and the details 
 were so frightful and revolting that the whole world shuddered. 
 Regarding this occurrence, Dr. Isidore Singer says, in his book, 
 "Russia at the Bar of the American People": 
 
 "What happened there was so inhuman, so horrible and so 
 diabolical that no language can aptly describe even a part of the 
 horrors and atrocities!" 
 
 At once, upon learning of this catastrophe, I called together a 
 few of our Zionist workers, and we formed a committee of which 
 I was made chairman. Its purpose was to rouse public sentiment 
 and raise money to aid the victims of the pogrom. We organised 
 meetings to be held throughout the city on a certain day. One 
 of the largest gatherings was that held at the Congregation Anshe 
 Kanesses Israel (then known as the "Russische Schui"). Among 
 the speakers at this meeting, at which I presided, were Rabbi 
 Emil G. Hirsch and, if I remember correctly, Judge Julian W. 
 Mack. During the proceedings, I read a letter which I had re- 
 ceived from an eyewitness of the massacre. So deeply was the 
 audience affected by this that several of the women fainted, and 
 most of the people present wept. 
 
258 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 We raised several thousand dollars, and I forwarded this money 
 to Mr. Kahn Bernstein, who was the official representative of the 
 Zionist Organisation at Kishinev. 
 
 A larger committee, composed of South Side Jews, was later 
 organised, among its members being Adolf Kraus and Judge 
 Philip Stein. It was called "Ezras Nedochim" (Aid to the 
 Refugees), its purpose being to defray the expense of bringing 
 to this country as many of the survivors of the pogrom as pos- 
 sible. We were quite successful, raising enough funds to bring 
 over a considerable number of refugees. 
 
 The stark horror of the calamity had aroused the interest of 
 important personages throughout the country. It was decided that 
 a responsible group should be formed, equipped to act in such 
 emergencies. In consequence thereof, a call was sent out to 
 prominent men in every large community in the country, to come 
 to New York to attend a meeting for the purpose of organising 
 an American Jewish Committee, having for its object the protec- 
 tion of the civil and religious rights of Jews in any part of the 
 world, whenever necessary. I received an invitation, and attended 
 the meeting. The newly-formed American Jewish Committee con- 
 sisted of representative Jews from all over the United States, with 
 Judge Meyer Sulzberger as its first president. New York was 
 represented by Mr. Felix Warburg, Mr. Louis Marshall, Judge 
 Meyer Sulzberger, Cyrus Adler, and others; while Chicago chose 
 Mr. Adolf Kraus (who later resigned), Judge Julian Mack, Mr. 
 Julius Rosenwald, and myself. 
 
 The American Jewish Committee has been in existence for 
 about thirty-five years, and has proved to be a beneficent force, 
 doing its work quietly, but effectively. 
 
 The Committee played an important part in the abrogation of 
 the treaty with Russia, in 1912. From about the year 1890, Jews 
 had been barred from entering Russia, and Jews leaving that 
 country for visits elsewhere were not permitted to re-enter. Many 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 259 
 
 of those discriminated against were American citizens. When in 
 the year 1910, the Russian government refused to admit a promi' 
 nent American Jewish citizen, the Committee took it upon itself 
 to bring the matter to the attention of the United States Govern' 
 ment, recommending abrogation of its treaty with Russia. William 
 Howard Taft was then President. 
 
 I was strongly opposed to this action of the American Jewish 
 Committee, and so stated at the meeting at which the matter was 
 discussed, expressing my fear that the Russian government would 
 retaliate by taking punitive measures against the three and a half 
 or four million Jews residing in Russia. While attending the 
 Zionist Congress in Switzerland that year, as a delegate, I dis' 
 cussed the matter with the Russian delegates, and found that the 
 majority of them were opposed to the measure. Dr. Max Nordau, 
 whose opinion was universally respected, told me that while he 
 felt it was a very courageous undertaking on the part of the 
 members of the American Jewish Committee, he feared that 
 sooner or later the Jews would suffer for it. An article by him 
 appeared in "Haint," the largest Yiddish newspaper in Warsaw, 
 Poland, giving the same reasons for his opposition to the proposal, 
 as those I had advanced. 
 
 When I returned to this country, I reported these facts at the 
 next meeting of the American Jewish Committee, but I was 
 greatly criticized, and the proposal was unanimously passed, with 
 the exception of my vote. There was now nothing for me to do 
 but bow to the will of the majority and promise to request the 
 United States Senator from Illinois, Hon. William H. Lorimer, 
 to vote for the abrogation of the treaty. I invited the Senator to 
 a meeting on the West Side, where he gave us his assurance that 
 he would do so. When the question finally came before the Senate, 
 it was readily passed, and the treaty with Russia remained in 
 abrogation until the world war, when the Czarist government 
 was overthrown. 
 
260 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 After the meeting of the American Jewish Committee, at which 
 I had expressed my opposition, Judge Meyer Sulzberger, the 
 president, called me over, and told me, in the presence of several 
 others, that he considered it impudent of me to have stood up 
 against the opinion of all the other members. 
 
 "What did you do for the Jewish people,' ' he asked rather 
 angrily, "that you should take it upon yourself to disagree with 
 the opinion of all?" 
 
 I said nothing, but when he repeated his question later, in the 
 presence of another group, I answered: "Well, I have a wife and 
 five children." 
 
 The men around us burst out laughing. I thought at first they 
 might be laughing at me, for making such an inadequate reply, 
 but later I learned that the Judge was a bachelor, and these men 
 had thought I knew this, and that my reply was particularly 
 appropriate. 
 
 In the early 1900^, Chicago Jewry was electrified by the news 
 that the famous Schmarya Levin, who had been a member of the 
 short-lived Russian "Duma" (parliament), was to visit this city. 
 
 The story of the formation of this "Duma" had created world' 
 wide interest. It seems that after the year 1900 there was con' 
 siderable unrest in Russia, as more and more of the Russian people 
 were drawn into the Revolutionary movement. About three 
 fourths of the population, as we were later told by Mr. Levin, 
 became involved, and meetings were held by men, women and 
 children anywhere and everywhere — in gardens, in private homes, 
 in the woods, and even in churches and synagogues. So strong did 
 the movement become that the Czar was finally induced to grant 
 to the Russian people some measure of freedom, and some degree 
 of representation in the government. He granted the people the 
 privilege of forming a "Duma," or parliament, and one of our 
 foremost Zionists, Mr. Schmarya Levin, was elected as a member 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 261 
 
 of that body. After about a year, however, it seems the Csar 
 relented of his liberality, and the "Duma" was dissolved. All its 
 members, especially those who had spoken freely against the 
 Csarist regime, had to leave the country, and Mr. Schmarya 
 Levin was one of those who had to flee for their lives. 
 
 I received advance notice from New York that he was planning 
 to come to Chicago, and consulted with Mr. Ginsburg, of the 
 Courier, and Mr. Adolf Kraus, one of our leading Jews, as to 
 how to entertain him and take care of him while here. A great 
 deal of publicity in the general press, as well as in the Jewish 
 newspapers, greeted his coming, which was considered front-page 
 news and created quite a stir. The fact that Russia had gone so 
 far as to permit the formation of a "Duma," and had permitted a 
 Jew to serve thereon, had astonished the world, and everyone was 
 anxious to see and hear Mr. Levin. 
 
 Mr. Kraus, who was at that time, I believe, president of the 
 B'nai B'rith, was kind enough to offer him, on behalf of that 
 organisation, lodging at the Congress Hotel during the time of his 
 stay. He was with us for about two weeks, and every other day 
 we arranged for him to attend a different meeting or gathering. 
 
 On the first Saturday, I took him to the Anshe Kanesses Israel, 
 which was at that time and I believe still is the largest Orthodox 
 Synagogue in Chicago. Of course, everyone eagerly looked fop 
 ward to hearing him, but I am sorry to relate that on that occa' 
 sion, his speech was a disappointment. I introduced him as one of 
 the outstanding Jewish and Zionist leaders in the world, and 
 expected that he would tell us about his experiences in Russia 
 and something about the progress of the Zionist movement. How 
 ever, his talk lasted only about fifteen minutes, and he spoke in 
 Hebrew, which hardly anyone present understood. 
 
 He made a far better impression at a meeting which the South 
 Side Jews arranged for him at the Standard Club, where he spoke 
 
262 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 in German. Dr. Hirsch also spoke at that meeting, likewise in 
 German. 
 
 All in all, his visit here was not a happy one. Of the true 
 Russian intelligentsia, he was of a highly nervous temperament 
 and, like most men of that type, was rather self-centered and felt 
 himself superior to the average person. He did not like the well' 
 to-do Jews of the South Side, nor did he have much use for the 
 poor Orthodox Jews of the West Side. I, as chairman of the 
 committee in charge of arrangements, had it "hot and heavy" 
 from him. He did not like the idea of being taken to a "schul," 
 or of being tendered a banquet in a poor Jewish restaurant, or 
 being taken to other places that were strange to him. What he 
 had expected was to encounter here a group of Russian intel- 
 ligentsia like himself, and that he did not find. However, he did 
 infuse new life into the Zionist movement, which gained greatly 
 by his presence. 
 
 Subsequently, Mr. Levin came to this country and to Chicago 
 quite often, and in time he gained the respect and admiration of 
 Zionists and non-Zionists alike. He even succeeded in changing 
 the attitude of Mr. Julius Rosenwald, who was a strong anti- 
 Zionist. Although the latter did not become a Zionist, he did 
 contribute considerable sums for Palestine. 
 
 It is of interest that at the banquet we gave for Mr. Levin on 
 Roosevelt Road, during his first visit to Chicago, there were many 
 South Side Jews. It was the first time in the history of the city 
 that wealthy Jews of the South Side had deigned to come to an 
 ordinary, second-floor Jewish restaurant. My nephew, Abram 
 Hers, who operated the restaurant, soon demonstrated that good 
 food and good service are not confined to swanky dining halls. 
 
 In the beginning of the year, 1908, the newspapers announced 
 in screaming headlines that a young Jewish boy, by the name of 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 263 
 
 Harry Auerbach, had been killed by the Chief of Police of Chi' 
 cago. According to the reports, this boy was an anarchist and 
 had made an attempt to assassinate the Chief of Police, George 
 Shippey, who had killed the boy in self defense. 
 
 I was in New York at the time, and at once telegraphed my 
 brother, Harris, to give me all the information possible, which he 
 did. He informed me that there was great excitement everywhere, 
 especially among the Jews, many of whom were of the opinion 
 that it was a "frame-up. M If possible, he told me, I should come 
 back to Chicago at once, to help in solving the case, and two days 
 later I returned. 
 
 I found that the boy had a sister by the name of Olga, who 
 refused to talk to anyone. Many newspaper men and representa- 
 tives of various societies had been to see her, but she would not 
 say anything except that her brother had been murdered. She 
 would collapse whenever she started talking to anyone. 
 
 I formed a committee of five and started an investigation. The 
 first step was to secure an interview with Olga Auerbach, and 
 it took me days before I succeeded in convincing her that it was 
 best for her and for the memory of her brother, as well as for the 
 welfare of the Jewish people, to discover the truth and the whole 
 truth. She finally promised to give me all the information she had 
 on the following afternoon. 
 
 This was her story: She and her brother were born and reared 
 in Kishinev. There they lived through the bloody pogroms that 
 took place in the year 1903. Soon after this calamity, which hor- 
 rified the Jews everywhere, they left Russia and came to Chicago. 
 Young Auerbach lived with his sister and a friend in three small 
 rooms. For days and weeks he looked for employment, but could 
 find none. During his search for a job, he became acquainted with 
 a boy, who advised him to go to California, as living was much 
 cheaper there and it would be easier for him to get work. He 
 did not have the fare to California, however, and his friend 
 
264 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 thought that if he would go to someone with political influence 
 and tell him of his predicament, he might obtain free transporta' 
 tion to Los Angeles. 
 
 Auerbach accordingly made inquiries as to who would be the 
 most influential person for him to see, and was advised by some' 
 one to see Chief of Police Shippey. Instead of going to the latter's 
 office, where he would be busy and would not be able to talk to 
 him, Auerbach went straight to the Chief's house, arriving early 
 in the morning, before Mr. Shippey left for downtown. There 
 he was killed. His sister insisted that he was not an anarchist, that 
 he knew nothing about political matters, that he did not have any 
 weapon with him at any time, and that he was a frail, nineteen' 
 year'old boy who would not harm a fly. 
 
 Our committee, with the aid of many persons interested in 
 social justice, made further investigation and found that what the 
 sister had told us was true — that the poor, innocent boy had 
 been killed through a terrible error. The newspapers gave wide 
 publicity to the sister's story, and expressed doubt as to the word 
 of the Chief of Police that his life had been in danger and he had 
 killed the boy in self defense. 
 
 Olga, who was by that time much calmer, asked me to attend 
 the inquest and do everything possible to prove that her brother 
 was innocent of any wrong. With this intention, I engaged a 
 lawyer, who investigated the evidence and found that the Chief 
 of Police had several witnesses ready to testify for him, while 
 there were no witnesses at all for the other side. He advised me, 
 accordingly, to let the matter go and forget about it. When the 
 inquest was held, Mr. Shippey was exonerated. 
 
 Interest now centered in the funeral. The people were excited. 
 The newspaper men, of course, were eager to know when and 
 where the funeral would take place. With the assistance of men 
 from the Daily Jewish Courier, I managed to elude reporters and 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 265 
 
 detectives, and we buried the body in the cemetery known as 
 the Jewish Free Burial Ground. 
 
 Although the coroner's jury found that the Chief of Police 
 was justified in the killing, the general belief was that the boy was 
 innocent, and this feeling was strengthened when Chief Shippey 
 became ill a short time later, and died in a sanitarium. 
 
 During this time, my oldest brother, Aron, was here on a visit. 
 He was amazed at the uproar and excitement that the case had 
 created. He could not understand it. A Chief of Police of a Rus' 
 sian city of over three million inhabitants, like Chicago, he said, 
 had almost unlimited power. The killing of a man suspected of 
 being an anarchist would mean nothing, especially if it was a 
 Jewish boy and the chief claimed his life had been in danger. 
 
 "Why," he exclaimed, "in Russia the Chief of Police would 
 have been decorated for his bravery, and no one would dare to 
 say a word about it. Here," he said, "the press had headlines as 
 if it were a national problem." 
 
 He could not get over it and kept advising me to keep out 
 of the case, not to be active in it and not to be in the limelight. 
 He thought my life was in danger. When it was all over, he said 
 he now realised the meaning of the saying: "America is a free 
 country," which he had heard so often. 
 
 Aron came twice to this country, to visit us and his children. 
 His first visit was on the occasion of Philip's marriage, and the 
 second time was when the latter's son, Irving, was confirmed. 
 
 During his second trip, in 1922, I was acting as chairman of 
 the Chicago branch of the Central Relief Committee of New 
 York, organised to raise funds for the war sufferers of Europe. 
 A national conference was then being held in Chicago, of dele' 
 gates representing all branches in the country, to determine the 
 quota for the coming year and ways and means of raising it, as 
 well as the different allotments for each country. 
 
266 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I took Aron to several sessions and introduced him to several 
 of the leading participants — men who were personally contribut- 
 ing large amounts and were giving a great deal of time and effort 
 toward helping to raise additional sums, the quota amounting to 
 millions of dollars. 
 
 Aron was a husky, good-looking individual, and when I intro- 
 duced him to Mr. and Mrs. Rosenwald as one of the war suf- 
 ferers from Poland, they were rather surprised at his fine, healthy 
 appearance. 
 
 "If that is the way they look, after experiencing the trials and 
 tribulations of the war," remarked Mr. Rosenwald, "they do not 
 need any help. 1 ' 
 
 To this Aron's son, Philip, who was with us, quickly answered: 
 "He looks well, because his brothers and his sons have already 
 taken care of him." 
 
 At the next session of the conference, Mr. Rosenwald spied 
 us, and brought over several of his friends and co-workers to show 
 them how wonderful a Polish war sufferer looked, again remark- 
 ing that if they all looked like my brother, they did not need help. 
 
 I answered, as had Philip: "They only look like this after they 
 have been helped — and this man has already been helped by his 
 relatives and friends/ ' 
 
 This diplomatic statement made them all smile, and one of the 
 group said: "We ought to have him appear at our meetings, as 
 an example of what our fund raising work is accomplishing." 
 
 When my brother left, several months later, I accompanied 
 him to New York, so that I could both see him off and attend a 
 special meeting being held in that city, called for the purpose of 
 hearing the report of a commission which had been sent to Pales- 
 tine by the so-called "non-Zionist" group. The meeting was held 
 the day after we reached New York, and I took Aron with me. 
 
 The well known figure, Louis Marshall, acted as chairman. 
 Each member of the commission, of whom I believe there were 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 267 
 
 five, submitted a report on a different subject, one speaking about 
 the climate and environment of Palestine, another about the agri- 
 cultural possibilities and the area of the country, another about 
 the relationship between the Jews and the Arabs, and so on. The 
 reports were all very interesting and well received. 
 
 During the afternoon session, the question arose: "What is the 
 difference between Zionists and non-Zionists?" Though there 
 must have been half a dozjen speakers discussing the subject, none 
 gave a plausible explanation. 
 
 When the meeting was over, I introduced my brother to Mr. 
 Marshall, and Aron complimented him on being a second "Moishe 
 Rabenu" (Moses, our leader and teacher) . He added, "I am going 
 home, and I will tell our people there what great men you have 
 in America, and that you, Mr. Marshall, are the greatest of 
 them all." 
 
 Louis Marshall was truly a great man and was considered the 
 foremost Jew in America for many years preceding his death. A 
 lawyer of national prominence, a scholar and a gentleman, and 
 above all, a statesman, he was loved and respected by all. 
 
 Mr. Marshall invited us to tea, and in the course of our con" 
 versation, he asked me how I would explain the difference be- 
 tween a Zionist and a non-Zionist. 
 
 I told him that some years ago a reader of a Jewish news- 
 paper in New York wrote to the paper, asking that they explain 
 the difference between a speaker and a lecturer. Mr. Leon Zolot- 
 koff, who was writing for the paper at the time, replied to the 
 query that they are both the same, except that a lecturer does not 
 "holler so" when he speaks. 
 
 Thus my reply to Mr. Marshall's question was that the only 
 difference between the Zionist and the non-Zionist is that the 
 Zionist shouts louder. I drew an illustration from the meeting 
 that had just ended. The members of the commission who had 
 gone to Palestine, all of whom were non-Zionists, spoke like lee- 
 
268 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 turers. They were distinct, brief, calm and to the point. Then 
 Reverend Masliansky, whom everyone knows, admires and re' 
 spects, spoke as a Zionist. He agreed with everything that was 
 reported by the commission, but instead of talking, like them, in 
 a calm, quiet manner, he displayed deep feeling, became excited, 
 and shouted at the top of his voice to Mr. Marshall: "You are 
 not a non'Zionist, but a Zionist, a Zionist, and for the third 
 time, a Zionist!" 
 
 That, I said, was the only real difference. As long as we were 
 all interested in and working for Palestine, in whatever aspect, 
 it did not matter what we were called. 
 
 Mr. Marshall had a good laugh over this. He liked my explana' 
 tion so much that he made a note of it, saying that he would use 
 this story the first chance he had. 
 
 Up to the time the Zionist movement became a real factor in 
 the Orthodox Jewish community, the leaders of the community 
 had concentrated on but two kinds of organizations — the syna' 
 gogues and the lodges. The growth of the Zionist movement, 
 however, with its informative meetings, its propaganda and the 
 widespread newspaper publicity, seemed to give these men a 
 wider outlook and an impetus toward new endeavors. It is my 
 opinion that Zionism was responsible for a greater interest in 
 general communal needs, and a desire to do something about them. 
 
 Among the men who were thus inspired to serve the immediate 
 needs of their fellow Jews was a Mr. Jacob Cantor. 
 
 Mr. Cantor, who is now deceased, was a ' 'kosher 1 , butcher on 
 Canal Street. In a letter which was published in the Daily Jewish 
 Courier, he called attention to the situation of the helpless, aged 
 Jews of the city. He deplored the fact that a good many of them, 
 too old to earn a living and unable to obtain help, were destitute 
 and often without food and shelter. He urged that they be taken 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 269 
 
 care of by the Jewish community, and suggested that a movement 
 be started for the building of a home where these old people 
 could spend the rest of their lives in comfort. 
 
 Mr. David Shapiro, who died a few years ago in Palestine, 
 responded to that call. He organised a committee of able speakers 
 to bring this project before the people. He and his committee 
 went from synagogue to synagogue, and from one place to 
 another, explaining their purpose and appealing to the community 
 for help. The response was splendid, and within two years, one 
 of the finest institutions in the country was built for the care and 
 shelter of aged Jews. It was named "Beth Moshav Zekenim," 
 which is Hebrew for "Home for Old People," but it is generally 
 called affectionately merely by the initials, "B. M. Z." In recent 
 years, some clever individual humorously explained that in Yid' 
 dish "B. M. Z." stood for "Bobes mit Zeides" (Grandmothers 
 and Grandfathers), and that expression is frequently used. 
 
 The Home stands on Fifteenth Street and Albany Avenue, 
 facing Douglas Park, and is famous for its fine living quarters, 
 culinary and hospital equipment and facilities, and the manner 
 of its supervision. The care of the aged in the "B. M. Z." is a 
 delight to the beholder, and the residents manifest their happiness 
 in many ways. The present executive director is Mr. Julius Savit. 
 This was the very first philanthropic institution to be erected on 
 the West Side. 
 
 Among the men and women who gave their labor and devotion 
 to this worthy cause were: August Turner, Abraham Margolis, 
 Mrs. Benjamin Davis, Israel Cowen, Isador Segal, Mrs. Julius 
 Stone, Mrs. Joshua Ginsburg, Harris Cohn, Paul N. Lackrits, 
 N. Baumgarten, S. B. Komaiko, George Pines and Maurice Burr. 
 
 My oldest son, Arthur, has been one of the directors of the 
 institution for many years. While I served on the Board of 
 Directors, I was not active in its affairs, but did my share through 
 financial assistance. 
 
270 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Another worthy communal movement which was soon ini- 
 tiated was the building of a home for Jewish orphans. The idea 
 was conceived by Mr. Jacob Levy and with the aid of a few 
 others, including myself, the "Marks Nathan Jewish Orphan 
 Home" was founded. 
 
 For several years the orphans were housed in a small place on 
 the Northwest Side, but later a large building was erected on 
 Albany Avenue, near the Old People's Home, facing Douglas 
 Park. I was a member of the building committee and one of the 
 signers of the $50,000.00 mortgage that was assumed. 
 
 The Home was named for the Mr. Nathan for whose firm I 
 had worked for several weeks when I first came to Chicago, load' 
 ing and unloading scrap iron at $1.20 a day. Mr. Nathan, who 
 died, leaving no children, had placed $15,000.00 in trust, to be 
 used for any institution that might be built for the good of the 
 people of the community — and it was decided to apply this 
 money toward the building of the orphan home. Of course, the 
 cost of the present building far exceeded that amount, but in 
 those days, Mr. Nathan's benefaction was considered a very large 
 sum by the Jews of the West Side, and they, therefore, deemed 
 it only right that the building should bear his name. 
 
 The Marks Nathan Home is another institution of which the 
 Jews of Chicago may justly be proud. 
 
 Mr. Levy served as president of the Home for many years, 
 and devoted a good part of his life to its interests. Mr. Charles 
 Herron, who was then secretary, later became president, and for 
 twentyfive years was head of the institution, which he served 
 faithfully and efficiently, devoting to it a great deal of his time 
 and energy. Both he and Mr. Elias L. Trotskey, executive direc 
 tor, who has made a specialty of child care, deserve much credit 
 for their fine work in this connection. 
 
 The well known Mr. Maurice Goldblatt, of Goldblatt Bros., 
 is now president of the Home, and is carrying on the splendid 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 271 
 
 task. Both he and his brother, Nathan, are known for their 
 generosity on behalf of every philanthropic enterprise. Their rise 
 from poor immigrant boys to prominent merchants of the city has 
 been little short of phenomenal. 
 
 A wonderful contribution to the Home was made by Mr. 
 Morris Kats, a friend of mine for many years. He created a 
 $100,000.00 trust fund, its purpose being to provide a higher 
 education for those children of the Home who are qualified and 
 desire to study further. This is the largest single contribution in 
 the history of the Orthodox Jewish community of this city. 
 
 While conversing with Mr. Kats, a few years after he had 
 made this magnificent gift, we happened to touch upon the sub- 
 ject, and I remarked that since he had done so much for the 
 Orphan Home, he ought to do something for the Old People's 
 Home. I pointed out that these two institutions, which stood on 
 the same street, within a block of each other, represented the 
 rising sun of life, and the setting sun. It would be most fitting and 
 proper, therefore, that since he had extended a helping hand to 
 the young, he should likewise do something to comfort the old in 
 their last days. He replied, to my pleased surprise, that he had had 
 it in mind, and that he wanted me to go with him some day to the 
 Old People's Home and see what might be needed. 
 
 About ten days later, Mr. Kats and I went to visit the institu- 
 tion. As we walked about the premises, Mr. Katz; noticed a large 
 piece of ground adjoining the building, which was strewn with 
 rubbish and was quite unsightly. It struck him that this plot could 
 be utilised for a good purpose, and right then and there he in- 
 formed the superintendent, Mr. Savit, that he would contribute 
 enough money to create there a garden, with trees, grass and 
 flowers, for the old people, and would make a yearly contribution 
 for its upkeep. 
 
 If I remember, it was in the spring that we made that visit, 
 and when I returned, a comparatively short time later, the 
 
272 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 grounds were already a pleasant sight to behold. The old people, 
 men and women, were promenading about or sitting on comfort' 
 able chairs and benches, in a beautiful garden, containing trees, 
 walks and fountains. 
 
 The garden was dedicated soon afterward, and quite a festive 
 affair was arranged for the official opening. There was a large 
 crowd present, and several prominent speakers had been invited 
 — among them Rabbis, judges and other public personages. 
 
 Mr. Kats insisted that I also say a few words on this occasion. 
 I opened my remarks by reminding the audience that the story of 
 mankind had started in a garden. In that ancient garden, man' 
 kind had been created — while in this present garden, comfort 
 and pleasure had been created by Mr. Katz, for our old men and 
 women. My little speech was haled as the best, and one of the 
 prominent Rabbis, who also spoke there, told me that he was 
 envious because it had not occurred to him to draw that analogy. 
 
 Since that time, a garden festival has been held there every 
 year, which is always a beautiful and joyous event. Great praise 
 is certainly due Mr. Kats for the splendid thing he has done here. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Another great community enterprise was the establishment of 
 the Hebrew Institute. This had its inception through the efforts 
 of the early Zionist group, which in Chicago expanded its activi' 
 ties to the stimulation and encouragement of Jewish culture, 
 education and philanthropy. 
 
 At one of the meetings, during the administration of Dr. 
 Halperin, a plan was proposed to erect a center for the boys and 
 girls of the West Side, where they could spend their leisure time 
 in wholesome activities. This was prompted largely by the fact 
 that many of the youngsters were frequenting pool rooms and 
 other such undesirable places. 
 
 Mr. N. D. Kaplan was appointed chairman of the committee 
 created for this purpose. A suite of offices was rented in a build' 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 273 
 
 ing on the corner of Blue Island Avenue and Roosevelt Road, 
 and activities were initiated with very satisfactory results. We 
 were, however, greatly in need of financial assistance. 
 
 Mr. Julius Rosenwald, who was then recognised as one of the 
 most prominent business men in the city, and who contributed 
 generously to many worthy causes, was visited by the committee, 
 headed by Mr. Kaplan. They explained to him the aims and 
 objects of the organization, and told him what had been accom' 
 plished up to that time. He seemed impressed, and one Sunday 
 afternoon came to visit the center, which we had named the 
 "Chicago Hebrew Institute." He saw what we were attempting 
 to do, and expressed gratification and a willingness to help. 
 
 Mr. Rosenwald was not satisfied with the quarters, and felt 
 the project should be conducted on a larger scale. We set about 
 trying to find a more suitable place, and soon learned that a 
 convent, located on Taylor Street, and covering a square block 
 of ground, with several buildings thereon, was for sale for the 
 sum of $80,000.00. 
 
 We brought Mr. Rosenwald to see the place, and after looking 
 it over, he made a proposition that if we would raise $10,000.00 
 he would advance $80,000.00, in the form of a mortgage on the 
 property, without interest. 
 
 "So get busy," he said to us, "and raise the $10,000.00; and 
 as soon as you turn that amount over to the treasurer, you will 
 receive a check for $80,000.00." The $10,000.00 was to be used 
 for remodeling and for other urgent expenses. 
 
 Mr. Rosenwald said we must start raising the money at once, 
 and wanted to know how much I would subscribe personally. 
 My friend, Mr. Kaplan, and I exchanged bewildered glances. I 
 could not imagine what amount I could offer, when he was 
 ready to write a check for $80,000.00. 
 
 "Mr. Rosenwald," I said, "your proposition is that you will 
 take a mortgage and not charge any interest. If you would say 
 
274 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 that you won't charge the principal either," I added jokingly, 
 "then I would have to do a whole lot better than I really can 
 afford. " 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Rosenwald, "how much would that be?" 
 My friend, Mr. Kaplan, whispered to me: "Make it $500.00." 
 Mr. Rosenwald heard this, and said: "I accept. That is fine." 
 I was in for it. At that time $500.00 was much more than I 
 could afford. It was, in fact, the largest contribution for charitable 
 or benevolent purposes that any man among the West Side Jews 
 had up to that time been called upon to make. When Mr. Charles 
 Schaffner and I later went out asking people for donations of 
 equal amount, for the Institute, no one could believe that I had 
 really contributed so much. We finally convinced Mr. Samuel 
 Philipson and Mr. B. J. Schiff, and they each gave us a check for 
 $500.00. We then interested such men as James Davis, Dr. A. E. 
 Fishkin and Max Klee. The property was purchased, Dr. Fishkin 
 was elected president, and I was elected chairman of the House 
 Committee. Mrs. Goldie Stone, one of our most prominent and 
 active communal workers, became the recording secretary, and 
 still serves in that capacity. 
 
 The Chicago Hebrew Institute became the intellectual and 
 social center for Jewish and non-Jewish boys and girls of the 
 neighborhood, as well as for adults. In those days there were no 
 movie houses or other places of amusement where youngsters 
 could go, and the Institute afforded them entertainment of various 
 kinds, as well as educational opportunities. There were play- 
 grounds, with swings, see-saws, slides and other such equipment, 
 as well as sand boxes and play yards for the little ones. The 
 buildings housed a gymnasium, swimming pool, recreation rooms, 
 a branch of the Chicago Public Library, and Sabbath schools. We 
 engaged efficient instructors, who taught the Bible and the read- 
 ing and writing of Hebrew. We had a fine synagogue, where 
 services were conducted in a modern way by Rabbi Levine, a 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 275 
 
 young American-educated Rabbi whom we brought from New 
 York. There were classes in art and music and various other sub- 
 jects, to suit the needs and desires of boys and girls of all ages. 
 The Institute proved a godsend for the people of the neighbor- 
 hood, especially the young men and women. 
 
 Some years later, as the neighborhood changed, the institution 
 was moved to its present location at Douglas Boulevard and St. 
 Louis Avenue, in the large, modern building erected for the 
 purpose. Under its new name, the Jewish People's Institute, it 
 has continued to play an important role in Jewish communal life. 
 Mr. Philip L. Seman, who has been superintendent for over 
 twenty-five years, has been tireless in his efforts to provide a large 
 and stimulating schedule of activities, and has achieved splendid 
 
 success. 
 
 * * * 
 
 It might be interesting to relate here some of the experiences 
 we had in educating our people on the West Side to contribute 
 to the early Hebrew Institute larger amounts of money than they 
 were accustomed to subscribe for communal purposes. As a rule, 
 collectors would march from house to house, asking for nickels, 
 dimes or quarters. Our institution, however, had to have "big 
 money,' ' and we could not afford to think or deal in small 
 amounts. 
 
 Besides being chairman of the House and Grounds Committee, 
 I was also a member of the Fund Raising Committee, and I had 
 my hands full. The work kept me busy almost every evening, 
 and two or three days a week. I had to go out at least two days 
 a week to try to get new subscribers and substantial contributions. 
 
 One day, while walking on Madison Street, near La Salle, I 
 met Dr. Emil G. Hirsch. I greeted him and walked on, but he 
 stopped me and asked me in Hebrew: "Whence comest thou?" 
 
 To this I responded, also in Hebrew: "From going to and fro 
 on the earth, and from walking up and down on it." 
 
276 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 These are two quotations from the Book of Job — the ques' 
 tion of God to Satan, and Satan's reply. Dr. Hirsch expressed 
 delight in the readiness of my answer, and taking my arm, asked 
 me to walk along with him for a few minutes. I told him that 
 I would be greatly honored to do so, and he replied: "I assure 
 you, I would rather walk and talk with you than with a good 
 many members of my congregation." Of course, I thanked him 
 for the compliment. 
 
 I then referred to the subject of the Hebrew Institute, and 
 said, jestingly, "I know you are prejudiced against the West Side 
 Orthodox Jews, not knowing them very well. If you would like 
 to get better acquainted with them, why not take a half "day off 
 and go with me out in the Canal Street district to raise money 
 for the Institute." 
 
 "A very good suggestion," he replied quite seriously. "I shall 
 gladly do so." 
 
 The next day I made an appointment with him, and three 
 days later we were driving around together in a carriage on the 
 West Side, trying to raise money. 
 
 The first stop we made was on Twelfth Street (now known as 
 Roosevelt Road). A friend of mine and his wife ran a grocery 
 store there. Entering the little store, we found the wife weighing 
 some herring. 
 
 "Where is your husband?" I asked. "I want to introduce him 
 to Rabbi Hirsch." 
 
 She dropped the herring and looked at me and my companion 
 in astonishment. 
 
 "You mean that this gentleman is the great Dr. Hirsch, from 
 the South Side?" 
 
 "Yes," I replied. 
 
 She ran to the rear and called her husband, Reuben, and when 
 he appeared, I introduced Dr. Hirsch to him and told him that 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 277 
 
 we wanted to get some money from him. I began to explain what 
 we wanted it for, but he stopped me, saying: 
 
 "You don't have to make any explanations. If you come with 
 such a big man, I don't need any explanations. The only question 
 is, 4 How much?' " 
 
 I told him $25.00. 
 
 At this, his wife came running up, and exclaimed: "For 
 heaven's sake, how can we afford that much money ?" 
 
 She said it in such a pitiful tone of voice that Dr. Hirsch 
 interposed: "The woman is right. Let them give us as much as 
 they think they can afford.'" 
 
 Knowing that she was a very sensible woman and that she had 
 a great deal to say about the family finances, I said to her: 
 
 "I know you very well, Rosie, and that you will do the right 
 thing. I will leave it to you." 
 
 "Well," she replied, "had you come alone, I would have given 
 you three dollars, but since you have come with Dr. Hirsch, I 
 must give you ten dollars." 
 
 "My dear, good-hearted woman," said Dr. Hirsch, "I am not 
 worth more than our friend, Horwich. Indeed, I am worth less. 
 So we will only take six dollars from you, to make it even." But 
 she insisted and handed us a ten dollar bill. 
 
 We next stopped to see a small manufacturer on Canal Street, 
 whose name I prefer not to mention. He is now dead, and his 
 relatives have succeeded in developing that little factory into a 
 great concern. 
 
 I introduced Dr. Hirsch and told him our mission. It was 
 obvious that he was not very happy over our visit. In a somewhat 
 embarrassed manner, he said to me: 
 
 "When you come here, it is always for money, but when you 
 have any business in my line, you go somewhere else." 
 
 "Very well," I answered, "I will give you an order right now, 
 with the understanding that thirty per cent of the amount of the 
 
278 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 order will go for the purpose for which we came here, namely, 
 the Institute." 
 
 Our man started to brighten up, and offered ten per cent. Dr. 
 Hirsch settled with him for fifteen per cent. The amount of the 
 contribution came to $19.50. 
 
 We went to three other places, where we received small 
 amounts, and then called to see Selig Morris, who was well known 
 on the West Side and was considered one of the large scrap iron 
 dealers of the city. He and I knew each other well. 
 
 On the way there, I described him to Dr. Hirsch. I told him 
 that he could not read or write and signed his name with dif' 
 ficulty; that he was very blunt and outspoken and sometimes 
 too forward, but was very honest, straightforward, charitable and 
 religious. He would contribute only to such charities as appealed 
 to him, however, and to no others. I warned Dr. Hirsch that he 
 should not feel offended at anything Mr. Morris might say. 
 
 Arriving at his place of business, on Canal Street, we entered 
 his small, uninviting office. There was no place to sit down, and 
 we had to stand until he was through talking to some visitors. 
 
 When I introduced him to Dr. Hirsch, I said: 
 
 "Mr. Morris, you ought to remember this day as one of the 
 great days of your life/"* and I mentioned what day and date it 
 was. "You have the honor of being visited by Dr. Emil G. Hirsch, 
 the most outstanding Rabbi in the United States. " 
 
 "Is that so?" he blurted out. "I know you, you smart aleck, 
 and you know me, so no monkey business!" (Mr. Morris was 
 always using the phrase, "monkey business"). 
 
 "Dr. Hirsch," he said knowingly, "did not come here to honor 
 me nor anyone else. You brought him here for a purpose, which 
 I know means money. You had better come out with it. What is 
 it you want? But," he interrupted, "before anything else, I will 
 treat you to a drink of French brandy." 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 279 
 
 He asked the bookkeeper to hand him, through the cashier's 
 window, a bottle of brandy and two glasses. After we all drank, 
 I remarked to Dr. Hirsch: 
 
 "Don't for a minute think that Mr. Morris is as bad as he 
 wants us to believe he is. You explain what we are here for, and 
 I am sure that he will not let us go without a check for five 
 hundred dollars." 
 
 At this, Mr. Morris jumped up, and shouted: "Is that so! 
 Even if Dr. Hirsch would bring here his entire Reformed Congre- 
 gation, they could not get five hundred dollars from me!" 
 
 In a very pleasant way, Dr. Hirsch explained the significance 
 of the Hebrew Institute — what it stood for and what it in- 
 tended to accomplish. 
 
 "Look here, Dr. Hirsch," said Mr. Morris, when he had fin- 
 ished. "You are supposed to be a Rabbi, but you are not the kind 
 of Rabbi that a Jewish Rabbi should be. Your praying and your 
 preaching are only monkey business. You hold services on Sun- 
 days instead of on Saturdays. The men and women sit together. 
 The men sit with uncovered heads, and instead of praying to 
 God, they amuse themselves by listening to the singing of good- 
 looking girls and to your godless preaching. 
 
 "If you were asking me for money for a temple, I wouldn't 
 talk to you. I would not even offer you the drink which you just 
 had. But you ask me for something else, to help the boys and 
 girls of the West Side. That sounds reasonable, and although 
 I know nothing about it, I will take your word for it. I know 
 that if I should come to ask you for something, you would not 
 talk to me — so before I give you any money, I want to ask you 
 this — if I do what you ask and give you some money, what can 
 you do for me, or for my synagogue, to which I just have ad- 
 vanced twenty-five thousand dollars?" 
 
 To this Dr. Hirsch replied: "As you know, I am not in busi- 
 ness, and I haven't any money in banks. I live on my salary, 
 
280 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 and cannot contribute large sums of money. The only thing I 
 can do for you is to preach, pray or make a speech. If it is agree' 
 able to you, and you wish me to do so, I will come to your 
 synagogue and make a speech, or preach a sermon, or even try to 
 collect money for the synagogue." 
 
 "All right," said Mr. Morris, "if you promise to come to our 
 synagogue, and wear a hat and a 'talis,' and make a real speech 
 about religion, about God and His Torah, and no monkey busi' 
 ness, I will give you a check." 
 
 Dr. Hirsch grasped his hand and said, "I accept." 
 
 Thereupon, Mr. Morris took out a little checkbook from his 
 pocket and handed it to me, saying: "Here, you devil, make a 
 check for three hundred dollars." 
 
 "Oh, no," I answered, using his phraseology. "No monkey 
 business. It will be five hundred bucks." He signed the check. 
 
 Before taking Dr. Hirsch home, I told him that I would like 
 to stop off for a moment at my brother's place, which was nearby. 
 
 "Oh," said he, "your brother is in business here? I will go with 
 you and see what kind of a business man he is." 
 
 When we stopped in, we found Harris, as usual, reading a 
 book, this time a volume of Heinrich Heine, in German. After 
 greeting him and shaking hands, Harris showed Dr. Hirsch what 
 he was reading, and told him of the comment Heine had once 
 made about Reformed Judaism. He had been asked for his opinion 
 after attending, for the first time, services in a Reformed Temple, 
 whose Rabbi, if I am not mistaken, was Samuel Holdheim. 
 
 "The prayers and the singing and the ceremonies and every 
 thing else," said Heine, "were exactly as in the Christian German 
 churches. The only thing that sounded Yiddish was Rabbi Hold" 
 heim's German." 
 
 Dr. Hirsch had a good laugh over this story, and wondered 
 how it happened that he had not heard it before. 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 281 
 
 They then started on a lengthy discussion regarding Reformed 
 Judaism. Harris insisted that no religion can survive unless one 
 has sincere faith and believes in it with all his heart. 
 
 "I am not speaking of fanatics," he said. "They are the excep- 
 tions. But Reformed Judaism is not a religion to which its fol- 
 lowers can strongly adhere, or in which they can have deep faith." 
 
 Dr. Hirsch asked him for some proof of this statement, and 
 Harris was quick to cite an example. 
 
 "You know," he said, "that among Orthodox Jews, the Bible 
 or prayer book, or any other book pertaining to the Jewish re- 
 ligion, and printed in Hebrew, is considered sacred. An Orthodox 
 Jew will always kiss the page of such a book before he closes it 
 and puts it away. If an Orthodox Jew should find a loose page 
 of such a book lying around, he will pick it up carefully, treating 
 it as something that is holy, and put it in a proper place. But that 
 is not the case with you Reformed Jews." 
 
 "How do you know that is true?" asked Dr. Hirsch. 
 
 "I will prove it to you one hundred and fifty times right now," 
 said Harris. "You see over there," he continued, pointing out of 
 the window, "a junk shop owned by a man named Satavsky. 
 He makes a specialty of buying all kinds of paper and old books, 
 and I have an agreement with him that whenever he has any old 
 books, to let me know. I have bought from him a great many 
 books in this way. Of course, most of them have been quite badly 
 torn and in poor condition. But last week, I was surprised to have 
 him tell me that he had a large number of new books, and I 
 bought them for but a little more than he would get for them as 
 waste paper. They cost me about two cents each. If you will 
 please come into the other room, I will show them to you." 
 
 Dr. Hirsch followed him, and was greatly surprised to see 
 there a hundred and fifty Jewish Union Prayer Books, such as 
 are used in all the Jewish Reformed Temples. 
 
282 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "There you see the difference," said Harris. "You couldn't find 
 an Orthodox prayer book in a junk shop anywhere in the United 
 States." 
 
 I thought Dr. Hirsch might feel offended, but he laughed good- 
 naturedly and said: "Next Sunday I will preach a sermon on 
 
 this." 
 
 * * * 
 
 Gradually the Jews of the West Side became more and more 
 interested in politics, until one heard everywhere political matters 
 discussed in Yiddish, as well as in English. The majority were 
 strongly sympathetic towards the Republican Party. Several of 
 the West Side Jews entered into active political work and held 
 office successfully. 
 
 A Democratic leader and the representative of the Bohemian 
 and Jewish voters of several of the wards of the West Side, was 
 a Bohemian Jew by the name of William Loeffler. His chief 
 assistant in this work was another Bohemian Jew — Adolph J. 
 Sabath. Both were greatly liked, and became very popular in their 
 district. Mr. Sabath was subsequently elected to the Municipal 
 Court, and some time later was elected Congressman of his dis- 
 trict, being continuously re-elected to the present time. A brother 
 of Congressman Sabath, Joseph Sabath, was also elected to the 
 Municipal Court and later to the Circuit Court, to which he was 
 re-elected and over which he is still presiding. I am happy to say 
 that these two brothers are considered to be among the best public 
 officials in this city. During their entire career, no fault has been 
 found with them, and they are admired and respected by all who 
 know them. 
 
 I cannot continue without mentioning the two outstanding 
 Chicago Jews in public life — Judge Samuel Altschuler and 
 Governor Henry Horner. The former served with high honor on 
 the Federal bench for over twenty years. When he resigned, be- 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 283 
 
 cause of advancing age, it was to the regret of all who knew him, 
 and his resignation was accepted with reluctance. It is rarely that 
 one finds a man so honorable, wise and just, and so greatly 
 beloved, as Judge Altschuler. 
 
 Our popular Governor Horner is another man of whom we are 
 justly proud. As Judge of the Probate Court of Cook County 
 for about twenty years, he served with great credit to himself 
 and to the community. His candidacy for the governorship was 
 received with great applause by people in all walks of life, and he 
 was elected by a large majority. During the campaign for his 
 second term, in 1936, he had formidable political opposition, but 
 so generally was his merit recognised that he was victorious in 
 spite of this obstacle. He is generally conceded to be one of the 
 finest governors Illinois has ever had, and there have been very 
 few to find fault with his administration. I am particularly grati" 
 fied by his success, since I have earnestly worked for him from 
 the very beginning of his political career. 
 
 Both Judge Altschuler and Governor Horner have always iden- 
 tified themselves with every movement concerning the public 
 welfare. 
 
 The strongest Republican leader in the early days was Mr. 
 William Lorimer. Assisting him was Mr. A. J. Harris, a Russian 
 Jew, who was just assuming leadership over the Jewish Repub' 
 lican voters of the West Side. Mr. Harris was several times 
 elected alderman of his ward, and later was elected Clerk of the 
 Criminal Court. 
 
 William Lorimer, who was a clever politician and straight' 
 forward individual of attractive appearance, had great influence 
 over the Jewish voters of the West Side. He was liked by all who 
 knew him, and was considered very reliable. However, he was a 
 strong fighter against any opponents, and he made his greatest 
 mistake when he undertook to fight the Chicago Tribune. The 
 
284 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 controversy lasted for years, until the Tribune proved victorious. 
 As a consequence, Mr. Lorimer lost his seat in the Senate. 
 
 Mr. Lorimer had some time previously opened two banks — 
 one in the downtown section, on LaSalle near Monroe; and the 
 other on the West Side, on the corner of 12th Street (now 
 Roosevelt Road) and Ashland, which was then one of the most 
 desirable locations in that vicinity. Because of his great political 
 following and his many friends and admirers, Senator Lorimer 
 did a fine business from the day he opened. Unhappily, his ouster 
 from the Senate affected his banks, which immediately went into 
 a decline, and within a few months were closed. 
 
 The depositors of the West Side bank called a meeting and 
 decided to apply to the courts for the appointment of a receiver, 
 naming me as their choice. I was then the owner of a small pri' 
 vate bank on the corner of Roosevelt Road and Blue Island 
 Avenue, which was managed by my son'in4aw, Mr. Bernard 
 Jadwin. 
 
 My appointment as receiver of Lorimer's Ashland & 12th 
 Street Bank took place in October, 1915. I immediately checked 
 over the books. When I saw the names and the small individual 
 deposits, I did not feel it right to charge these people any re' 
 ceiver's fees, and though many of my friends thought I was 
 foolish to do so, I insisted on giving my services gratis. 
 
 My legal representative was Mr. LeRoy Brown, of the firm 
 of Brown, Fox ii Blumberg, whom I found to be one of the finest 
 and most honorable lawyers I have known. He took care of every 
 detail, having always the interest of the depositors in mind. The 
 deposits totaled close to a million dollars, and when the receiver" 
 ship was wound up, the depositors were paid over seventy cents 
 on the dollar. This, I was informed, was a record for bank 
 receiverships. * * * 
 
 A few years after this experience, I was surprised to receive a 
 visit from Judge Thomas F. Scully (then judge of the County 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 285 
 
 Court), and Dennis Egan, Secretary of the Board of Election 
 Commissioners. They had come to ask me to serve as the Repub- 
 lican member of that Board, which was composed of three mem- 
 bers. Since Judge Scully was a Democrat, he had the right to 
 appoint two Democrats, but the third member had to be a 
 Republican. I accepted the appointment, and was afterward in- 
 formed that Judge Scully had considered three different Jews for 
 that office, but upon consulting with several of the leading Jews 
 of the city, it was decided that I should be chosen. I served on the 
 Board of Election Commissioners from December, 1914, to 
 December, 1920. 
 
 The other two members of the Board, two Democrats, were 
 August Lueders, a German, and Frank Rydsewsky, a Pole. They 
 were both fair and honorable, and we seldom disagreed. When a 
 disagreement did occur, we called in Judge Scully to decide the 
 matter, but he generally told us that it was his rule not to inter- 
 fere with the Board, and that we would have to fight it out among 
 ourselves. 
 
 In 1927 I was appointed by Mayor Thompson as a member of 
 the board of trustees of the Policemen's Annuity and Benefit 
 Fund of Chicago, and served until July, 1931. When I left, the 
 incoming board voted a resolution, expressing its thanks and 
 appreciation for the "splendid services rendered conscientiously 
 and generously" by me as trustee of that board. 
 
 Shortly after this time, a serious difficulty arose in the West 
 Side community, and as usual, I was called upon for advice and 
 assistance. It was during the prohibition era, and some irrespon- 
 sible parties had taken advantage of the laws permitting the sale 
 of sacramental wines. The entire Orthodox Jewish community 
 was aroused. 
 
 After working on the problem for several weeks, a compromise 
 was reached. It was agreed that no sacramental wine was to be 
 
286 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 handled at all, by anyone, thereafter, and that what had happened 
 
 should be forgotten. 
 
 * * * 
 
 On the way home from the 10th Zionist Congress, during the 
 ocean crossing, I turned my thoughts to the communal problems 
 that would await me on my return to Chicago. I pondered chiefly 
 the situation of the various philanthropic institutions and organ- 
 isations of the West Side, and arrived at the opinion that it 
 would be best to follow the methods used by the South Side 
 Jews, who had adopted an excellent system. Instead of having 
 each separate enterprise raise its own funds, they had an organ' 
 isation which took it upon itself to raise all the money needed 
 by all their institutions and philanthropic groups. This organize 
 tion secured the required funds through annual subscriptions of 
 its members, who pledged certain amounts. 
 
 As already related, we, on the West Side, had an Old People's 
 Home, an Orphan Home, and a "Kosher" Hospital (The Mai" 
 monides Hospital) , as well as several "immediate 1 ' relief societies 
 and a number of Hebrew Schools. Each individual group raised 
 money by sending collectors from house to house, receiving con' 
 tributions from five cents up. This system was very unsatisfactory, 
 and the collection and distribution of money was in a chaotic 
 state. I came to the conclusion that in the interest of efficiency, 
 we, too, ought to form a single organisation, which would be 
 responsible for raising all the funds required for all of our philan' 
 thropic organisations and the maintenance of all the charitable 
 institutions on the West Side. 
 
 I realised that any attempt to change the existing system wouli 
 meet with a great deal of opposition, especially from the officers 
 of the various groups and from the men who went around col' 
 lecting. In order to make a living from the nickels and dimes they 
 gathered every day, these collectors had to retain between thirty 
 and forty per cent of the intake. Thus the expense of raising the 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 287 
 
 funds was out of all proportion. Another evil of the system was 
 the competition between the officers of the various groups, each of 
 which wished to retain its independence. I anticipated trouble 
 from these sources, but never imagined I would encounter as 
 much opposition as I did. 
 
 I lost no time, but shortly after returning home called a meet' 
 ing of those of our active communal workers who I thought 
 would be interested in my plan, for the purpose of laying it 
 before them, and acting upon it. Among those present were 
 Messrs. Samuel Philipson, A. S. Roe, Harry M. Fisher, H. A. 
 Lipsky, of the Daily Jewish Courier, S. J. Rosenblatt and Max 
 Shulman. We decided at that meeting that an organisation such 
 as I proposed should be formed. It was to be called the Federated 
 Orthodox Jewish Charities of Chicago, its aim and object being 
 to raise enough money to support all of its affiliated institutions 
 and philanthropic groups. 
 
 During my varied experience in business, social work, politics 
 and other endeavors, I had encountered plenty of trouble and 
 hardships and disagreeable incidents; but the year and a half 
 during which, in conjunction with others, I endeavored to induce 
 the several philanthropic organizations of the West Side to 
 become members of the Federated Orthodox Jewish Charities of 
 Chicago, was a most unpleasant period. It was the most thankless 
 and most difficult task I had ever had to tackle. 
 
 There were about fifty collectors who made their living gath' 
 ering funds, and these men were naturally enough strongly 
 opposed to my plan. Some of the officers of the institutions also 
 were very inimical toward me, as they were afraid of losing their 
 leadership and independence of action through the proposed 
 change. I was criticised and abused on all sides. But I kept on 
 arguing and debating, attending meetings almost daily, until we 
 finally succeeded in completing the organisation. Among others, 
 we had the support of Mr. Julius Rosenwald and Mr. A. G. 
 
288 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Becker, and, of course, the support of the Jewish Courier. Even 
 the English press often commented favorably on what we were 
 trying to accomplish. Our first year's subscriptions amounted to 
 around a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, of which we 
 collected about eightynve per cent. 
 
 I was president of the organisation for two years, during which 
 time Mr. David P. Pollack was executive secretary. I then in' 
 duced Mr. James Davis, who had served as a director of the 
 organisation since its inception, to become president. This was in 
 accordance with the policy I always pursued in such matters. 
 After I had started an organisation or movement and had placed 
 it on a sound foundation, I would relinquish the leadership to 
 some responsible member, continuing my interest in the work of 
 the group as a member of the Board of Directors and a contrib' 
 uting member. 
 
 The Federated Orthodox Jewish Charities of Chicago con" 
 tinued for ten years. Then, by agreement of the leaders of each 
 section, the West Side and South Side organisations amalgamated, 
 under the name of the Jewish Charities of Chicago, which took 
 over the responsibility of raising money for all the charitable 
 institutions of the city. I believe Chicago was the first city to 
 introduce this method of financing philanthropic enterprises. The 
 Jewish Charities of Chicago has become a model for Jewish and 
 non' Jewish organisations throughout the country, and its method 
 of raising and distributing funds has been put into practice in 
 New York and many other cities. The Jewish Charities of Chi' 
 cago now raises about one and a half million dollars every year. 
 The cost of raising this money amounts to only about three per 
 cent, whereas under the former system the cost was about thirty 
 five per cent of the sum collected. The similar organisation in 
 New York City, I understand, raises between five and six million 
 dollars a year. 
 
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COMMUNAL WORK 289 
 
 In this connection, I must mention Mr. Samuel A. Goldsmith, 
 Executive Director of the Jewish Charities of Chicago, who came 
 here from New York in 1930. No one envied him his job, as he 
 took charge soon after the beginning of the "depression/ ' but he 
 managed the affairs of the organisation with commendable 
 efficiency during the trying years that followed. He introduced 
 many worthy reforms and increased the number of affiliated insti- 
 tutions. He is well liked and well thought of by all those connected 
 with the organisation, and has established a reputation for himself 
 as a forceful and convincing orator. 
 
 Deserving special mention, also, is Miss Augusta Shapiro, office 
 manager of the Jewish Charities. She entered communal work in 
 Chicago during the time I was acting as chairman of the Central 
 Relief Committee for War Sufferers. Soon afterward she was 
 offered a position in the office of the Jewish Charities of Chicago 
 and has been with that organisation ever since. Miss Shapiro is an 
 outstanding personality in community work in this city. She 
 knows almost everyone, and everyone knows her. Anyone seeking 
 information about any phase of communal activity applies to her. 
 
 Among the many people whom we called on for contributions 
 were Mr. and Mrs. Meyer Schuman, and Mr. Meyer Berry. I 
 mention them here, not so much because of the size: of their con' 
 tributions, which were in proportion to what they could afford 
 to give, but because, in contrast to most others, their reception 
 of us was always pleasant and cordial. They never turned us 
 away empty-handed . 
 
 Of invaluable help to the Jewish Charities over a long period 
 of years has been Mr. Ludwig Stein. Disregarding his own com- 
 fort and convenience, he has devoted almost all his time to inter- 
 esting new members and raising funds for the organisation. He is 
 ever the gentleman, and I have always enjoyed working with him 
 in this field. 
 
 Throughout all these years, and during all its changes, from the 
 United Hebrew Charities to the Jewish Charities of Chicago, I 
 
290 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 have been a member of the Board of Directors and active in its 
 affairs. However, about two years ago, feeling that I was advanc 
 ing in years, and since my health was not of the best, I thought it 
 expedient to resign and make room for a "y° un g er and better 
 man.' 1 Accordingly I sent my resignation to the president, who 
 accepted it reluctantly. I was very pleased when, in order that I 
 remain connected with the organisation, the Jewish Charities 
 passed a special provision, electing me Honorary Vice President 
 for life. 
 
 In my files I find the following letters that passed between Mr. 
 Frank L. Sulzberger and myself on that occasion: 
 
 November 16, 1937. 
 
 Mr. Frank L. Sulzberger, President, 
 The Jewish Charities of Chicago 
 130 N. Wells Street, 
 Chicago, 111. 
 
 Dear Mr. Sulzberger: 
 
 Owing to advanced age and failing health, I cannot properly 
 perform my duties to the Jewish Charities of Chicago and feel 
 that a younger and more active man, who can accomplish better 
 results, should take my place. 
 
 I, therefore, respectfully tender my resignation as vice-president 
 and director, which resignation you may accept at your pleasure. 
 
 Should the office of the Charities at any time feel that I can 
 be helpful by calling on some people, I shall be glad to do so, if 
 at all possible. 
 
 With my highest regards to your good self, our executive 
 director and board of directors, I am, with my best wishes for the 
 continued success of our worthy organization, 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 
 Bernard Horwich 
 
COMMUNAL WORK 291 
 
 November 23, 1937 
 Dear Mr. Horwich: 
 
 I was quite unhappy when I received your letter of November 
 16 saying you wanted to resign from the Jewish Charities Board, 
 because I knew the reason for it was you felt you were not able 
 to be as active as you would like to be and you thought you ought 
 to make way for somebody who could be more active. 
 
 Understanding your wishes in the matter, I read your letter to 
 the Board last night. The Board was unanimous in feeling that the 
 Jewish community could not afford to have you disassociated with 
 the Charities, that your standing in the community, your many 
 years of active work in the Charities could not be spared. 
 
 At the same time they wanted you to feel that your member' 
 ship on the Board should not seem to you a burden, but that you 
 should be able to come to meetings or stay away as your health 
 and your pleasure permitted, and you were unanimously elected 
 an Honorary Director and Vice-President by Board action last 
 evening. 
 
 I think I can say to you that you would have been more than 
 pleased to have heard the expressions of deep and genuine affec 
 tion and esteem from the various members of the Board on which 
 you have sat for so many years. 
 
 I want you to know that I concur fully in the opinion of the 
 Board that you cannot be spared from its councils, and that at 
 the same time you should be spared from its obligations, and I 
 hope you will agree to accept this honorary appointment. 
 
 With my own best wishes, I remain, 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 Frank L. Sulzberger 
 
 President 
 * * * 
 
 I cannot refrain from saying a few words about the men with 
 whom I have been associated in this work for many years. 
 
292 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Since the membership of the various succeeding Boards of 
 Directors kept changing, it is difficult to recall the names of all 
 the splendid workers in this cause, but I do at least want to list 
 those outstanding men who served as presidents of the organize 
 tion, after the merging of the West Side and South Side groups. 
 
 First among these was Mr. Julius Rosenwald, who was nation" 
 ally known for his philanthropy and lifelong interest in social 
 welfare. 
 
 Succeeding him as president was Mr. Charles Rubin, who was 
 an excellent worker and a fine gentleman. 
 
 Mr. Rubin was followed by Mr. Samuel Deutsch, who did out- 
 standing work as president of the organisation . 
 
 These three men, alas, are no longer among the living. 
 
 Next to serve as president was young Alfred K. Foreman, who 
 was a member of the well known^firm of Foreman Brothers 
 Banking Company. 
 
 Succeeding him as president, was Mr. Sol Kline, one of the 
 finest and most sensible men with whom I have ever come in 
 contact. 
 
 The next president was Mr. Frank L. Sulzberger, the son of 
 Mr. Sol Sulzberger, whom I have mentioned before in my narra- 
 tive. The saying, "like sire, like son," certainly applies in this 
 case. Frank L. Sulzberger resembles his late father in every 
 respect, even in physical appearance. He is unassuming and a 
 sincere and unremitting worker, and in his speech is always brief 
 and to the point. He is poised and cultured and is well liked 
 by all who know him. 
 
 I do not have the privilege of knowing well the present presi' 
 dent, Mr. Lester N. Selig, but from the few times I have met him 
 and from the little correspondence I have had with him on matters 
 concerning the Jewish Charities, I am fully convinced that he is a 
 worthy successor to those worthy men who came before him. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 LEADING CHICAGO ZIONISTS 
 
 Since Chicago was the first city in the United States actively 
 to embrace Zionism and to send a delegate to the First Zionist 
 Congress, it seems proper to mention here those Chicagoans who 
 were most active in this work — men who gave unstintingly of 
 time, effort and money and helped to build the organisation to its 
 present standing. Several of these pioneers and pillars of the 
 movement are, alas, no longer among the living. 
 
 Among these men was my own beloved brother, Harris. I have 
 written a great deal about him, I know, and it may not seem 
 modest on my part to take up so much of my story with him. 
 But all those who knew him will agree with me that no amount 
 of praise would be too much. 
 
 Harris Horwich, I can say, was the foremost exponent of 
 Zionism in this country. With regard to the Jewish people, 
 he was interested in two matters. The first was Zionism, in all 
 its phases — religious, cultural, political, economic or national" 
 istic. His second consideration was the ethical life of the Jew. 
 Harris desired that every Jew should lead such a clean, moral 
 and ethical life that our critics would have no fault to find. 
 
 He would assert that the Jews in Palestine were the first to 
 abolish idolatry and adopt the idea of one God. It was in Pales- 
 tine, he proclaimed, that the religions of Judaism and Christianity 
 were born, and the ideal of brotherly love and humanitarianism 
 was developed, taking the place of barbarism and brutality. 
 Palestine, he preached, was the first place in the world where 
 people were taught a humane attitude toward slaves and thus was 
 started the idea of abolishing slavery. He reminded the people 
 that the religion which gave the command to work "six days in 
 the week — but the seventh should be a day of rest for man and 
 beast" originated in Palestine. If it were not for the Jews and 
 
 293 
 
294 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 the Bible and Palestine, Harris claimed, people would still live 
 like barbarians and have no concept of a finer way of life. 
 
 "For all this," he said, "the Jews have suffered for the last two 
 thousand years and have been oppressed by an ungrateful world." 
 
 Now, therefore, since we have a chance to regain that country, 
 he would argue, it is our sacred duty to do all in our power to 
 restore Zion to the Jewish people. 
 
 Harris never overlooked an opportunity to talk Zionism, in 
 season and out of season, in places where he was welcome, or in 
 places where his hearers were hostile. 
 
 Once he and I were invited by a friend to attend a political 
 meeting held in a Jewish neighborhood. We listened to several 
 speakers, one of whom shouted at the audience: 
 
 "I see that most of you have come here from countries where 
 you were oppressed and persecuted by the monarchs of those 
 countries — but here you have no kings and no queens. Here you 
 are the kings and your wives are the queens!" 
 
 When he finished, Harris asked for the floor, and before the 
 chairman could speak, my brother was on the platform. 
 
 "The last speaker told us," he exclaimed, "that here we are 
 kings and our wives are queens — but the trouble is, we are kings 
 to the extent that anyone who feels like it can declare war on us. 
 
 "It is true," he explained, "that here we are equal before the 
 law and are supposed to be protected, yet any hoodlum on the 
 street can molest us when he thinks we are not strong enough to 
 defend ourselves." 
 
 Harris went on for a while in that strain, and ended with the 
 statement: "When the Jews shall have a country and a govern' 
 ment of their own, in Palestine, we shall have an organised power 
 to speak for us and command the world's respect." 
 
 Another time, when we attended a Socialist meeting on the 
 West Side, Harris took the floor and boldly told the audience 
 that they were wasting their time and money in those activities. 
 
LEADING CHICAGO ZIONISTS 295 
 
 'This country," he admonished them, "is strongly democratic 
 and will never adopt Socialism. Why not instead," he queried, 
 "advocate and preach Palestine and Zionism? When we have our 
 own land, our own people and our own government, we can try 
 out Socialism, and if it works well in Palestine, then other coun- 
 tries may follow our example. " 
 
 The next man I should like to mention in this connection was 
 Leon Zolotkoff. Conservative in his thinking and writing, he 
 tried to prove through reasonable arguments, why Palestine be- 
 longs to the Jews. "It is true," he said, "that they lost it two 
 thousand years ago, through no fault of their own, but because 
 they were robbed of it. The Jews have never given it up. They 
 have continued to claim it, praying to God and to all the nations 
 of the world to return Palestine to them. 
 
 "Jews have always been there," he argued, "in larger or smaller 
 numbers. They have never abandoned it, and if they have it 
 restored to them and become an independent nation, they will 
 prove to the world that the accusations against them are all 
 untrue. 
 
 "If the Jews are largely traders and shopkeepers," Mr. Zolot- 
 koff asserted, "it is because these occupations have been forced 
 upon them, all other fields being closed to them. Not permitted 
 to own land, and driven from one country to another, they could 
 not become agriculturists, but had to make a living by whatever 
 means they could. Once they are established in their own coun- 
 try," he prophesied, "they will prove to the world that they can 
 be farmers and till the soil, just as any other people." 
 
 His predictions have come to pass, as is evidenced by the won- 
 derful work the pioneers have done in Palestine in reclaiming and 
 tilling the once barren land. 
 
 The third devoted worker for Zionism in this city was Mr. M. 
 Phillip Ginzjburg, who was one of the early group of Russian 
 "intelligentsia." Though strictly Orthodox, he had a modern out- 
 
296 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 look. The cause of Zionism was to him of paramount importance. 
 As the publisher of the Daily Jewish Courier, he gave invaluable 
 publicity to help further Zionism in Chicago, and many mid' 
 western states. 
 
 Fourth on my list I place the well known Max Shulman. He 
 joined the Zionist Organisation about seven or eight years after 
 it was started. He was then a young lawyer, with a great deal of 
 enthusiasm for Zionism and an interest in many other community 
 problems. Mr. Shulman served as Secretary of the Zionist Organ' 
 isation for several years and then became President, serving as 
 head of the movement, off and on, for nearly thirty years. During 
 the period of his activity, the movement spread to other mid' 
 western states, including Michigan, Indiana and Wisconsin. 
 
 Our well known American Zionist leader, Mr. Louis Lipsky, 
 wrote of Mr. Shulman as follows: "For many years, when 
 Zionism was a seed that had to be nurtured with personal devc 
 tion, Shulman was the most ardent personality in the Midwestern 
 scene. He advocated Zionism under all circumstances and at all 
 times, and this made him one of the outstanding Zionist per' 
 sonalities in Chicago. ... He was a sticker and worker and stayed 
 on the job until the day of his death. " 
 
 Next among the pioneer workers for Zionism was Elias Epstein, 
 a cigar manufacturer. Possessing good common sense, sincere and 
 systematic in everything he did, he was an asset to the movement, 
 and should be remembered as one of our best workers. 
 
 Another devoted Zionist was Mr. M. Sider, who was a 
 Talmudist and Hebrew scholar. An enthusiastic worker, he was 
 prompt to perform every duty assigned to him with great energy 
 and love for what he was doing. He was active in the movement 
 for about thirty years before his death. 
 
 One of the very first persons to attend Zionist meetings, and 
 a man who gave sound advice with regard to organising the work 
 and expanding it, was Mr. B. A. Antonow. 
 
LEADING CHICAGO ZIONISTS 297 
 
 I would like to make special mention here of a man who was 
 loved and admired by all who knew him, namely, Mr. Samuel 
 Philipson. Starting out as a clerk in the dry goods business, he 
 worked himself up until he became an important wholesale mer- 
 chant. He was always known for his honest and straightforward 
 business dealings. 
 
 Although Mr. Philipson attended almost every Zionist meet- 
 ing, he was quiet and unassuming and seldom participated in the 
 debates and discussions, giving his opinion only when asked for 
 it. He was very charitable and was a large contributor, not only 
 to the Zionist cause, but to almost all philanthropic institutions 
 and organisations in the city. 
 
 Before the "depression," he was a wealthy man, but when he 
 passed away a few years ago, there was very little left of his 
 fortune. So honorable a man was he that though he might have 
 settled with his creditors for a great deal less than his liabilities, 
 and kept something for himself, he refused to do so. There is not 
 a man in the city who lost a dollar through him, and there is 
 hardly a Jew in Chicago who did not know him and who does 
 not respect his memory. 
 
 It was in the year 1912, I believe, that we were happy to re 
 ceive in our midst Judge Hugo Pam, a jurist and orator of note. 
 He was one of the most forceful speakers for Zionism, and when 
 he addressed a meeting, his audience was with him from begin- 
 ning to end. Every word he uttered was spoken with sincerity, 
 force and conviction. He was indeed a great help to the 
 movement. 
 
 Just when the World War broke out, there came to Chicago 
 a young man who was known here before his arrival, namely, 
 Dr. S. M. Melamed, a brilliant journalist, author and philosopher. 
 He had edited a paper in London, and had then come to New 
 York. Shortly afterward, he became editor of the Daily Jewish 
 Courier of Chicago. 
 
298 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 An accomplished linguist, he wrote and spoke French, English, 
 German, Hebrew and Russian, and he was considered one of the 
 most forceful writers of our time. His articles and editorials on 
 Palestine were unique. He wrote many books of note, among the 
 best known being his book entitled "Spinosa and Buddha," pub' 
 lished by the University of Chicago press. 
 
 Dr. Melamed remained in Chicago for some sixteen or seven' 
 teen years, before moving to New York. Associated with him 
 here as creditor was a Mr. Peter Bayarsky, and through their 
 paper, these two men kept Zionism before the public day in and 
 day out, maintaining their interest as long as they lived. 
 
 Another fine man who helped to spread Zionism was Philip P. 
 Bregstone, who was, intellectually, a "jack'of'all'trades." He was 
 a lawyer and assistant judge of the Probate Court, and a lecturer, 
 journalist and author. His book entitled, "Chicago and Its Jews," 
 was his last literary effort before his death. Soon after the book 
 was published, a banquet was given in his honor by some of the 
 well'known Jews of the West Side. Among the speakers were 
 Rabbi Gerson B. Levi and Rabbi Solomon B. Freehof. 
 
 Mr. Bregstone gave all the time and energy he could spare to 
 the cause of Zionism. It was to the great sorrow of his many 
 friends that he suddenly passed away in middle life. 
 
 Mr. H. Levin, a member of Levin Brothers Wholesale Grocers, 
 was also an important figure in Zionism. He and I were called the 
 "dry, practical men" of the movement. Mr. Levin, who had a fine 
 mind and was quite a scholar, proved his practical faith in Pales' 
 tine by giving up his business and moving there with his family. 
 This was, I believe, about fifteen years ago. He purchased land 
 there, built a house, and embarked in the finance business, helping 
 poor farmers in Palestine to become self 'sustaining by advancing 
 money to them as needed. He died a few years ago, and his widow 
 and son are still there. 
 
LEADING CHICAGO ZIONISTS 299 
 
 Most of these whom I have mentioned were also ardent work- 
 ers with me in various philanthropic enterprises, as I have indi- 
 cated in other parts of this book. 
 
 I am now pleased to mention several men who happily are 
 still here and still active, and who are very much interested in 
 Zionism, as well as all other causes involving the welfare of the 
 community. 
 
 Among them is Mr. H. L. Meites, who started out in Chicago 
 as an apprentice in a printing shop. A few years later, he had 
 established himself in that business, and later founded the Chicago 
 Jewish Chronicle, which is considered to be one of the best 
 weekly Jewish publications in the city. Mr. Meites is known as 
 a man of original ideas and plans. As a worker for Zionism or 
 any other community enterprise, he always has something new to 
 propose. His jottings in the Chronicle, and his opinions expressed 
 in that paper on any subject, always give the reader something 
 to think and talk about. His book, "The History of the Jews of 
 Chicago," is considered a masterpiece, and anyone interested in 
 the history of the city should read it. 
 
 About six years ago, Mr. Meites was appointed Superintendent 
 of the Water Department of Chicago. In this connection, he has 
 become known to almost every municipality in the United States. 
 He has effected such improvements as to enable the water depart- 
 ment to save annually between two and three hundred thousand 
 dollars. Very often he is invited to other cities that seek his advice 
 on how to systematize and simplify the administration of their 
 water departments. 
 
 Not long ago, a luncheon was given in his honor, in recogni- 
 tion of the very able services he has rendered the Zionist move- 
 ment, as well as all other philanthropic undertakings in this city, 
 during the last forty years. It was attended by many persons of 
 prominence, each of whom praised Mr. Meites for the good work 
 he has done. 
 
300 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Judge Harry M. Fisher, another of our prominent Jews, started 
 out in Chicago as a young boy working in a factory. He studied 
 law in the evenings, was admitted to the Bar, and became a judge. 
 He is said to possess one of the best legal minds on the bench, in 
 this city. There is not a movement or undertaking of any kind 
 concerning the welfare of the Jewish community in which his 
 name does not appear among the first. With his keen mind and 
 brilliant oratory, he might indeed have been the leader of the 
 Jewish people in this city had he abided by one of the sayings 
 of our Jewish sages: "Ye wise men, be heedful of your words." 
 
 I must not forget to mention a man who has given more time 
 and energy to community problems than to his own affairs. I refer 
 to Mr. S. B. Komaiko. Coming to Chicago as a boy he at once 
 interested himself in Zionism and all other movements relating 
 to Jewish welfare. After a few years, he went into the insur- 
 ance business, and has become quite prominent in that line. 
 Although it is a business that requires all one's time, Mr. Komaiko 
 manages to spend many hours in writing articles and short stories 
 for various newspapers and publications, such as the New York 
 Morning Journal, the Chicago Daily Courier and The Advocate. 
 He always was and is still a devoted Zionist and ardent worker 
 for everything Jewish. Mr. Komaiko's fine personality, his enthu' 
 siasm and his ability to say the proper word at the proper time, 
 make him a valuable asset to the Jewish community. 
 
 Mr. Komaiko has a large acquaintanceship among non-Jews, 
 and he takes advantage of every opportunity to bring about a 
 better understanding between Jew and Gentile. 
 
 It was due to a large extent to his efforts that Lithuania (which 
 is his native country, and mine), became an independent state. 
 The Lithuanian government has on several occasions acknowl- 
 edged the services Mr. Komaiko rendered in this connection, 
 which have redounded to the benefit of the Jews in that country. 
 
 
LEADING CHICAGO ZIONISTS 301 
 
 Mr. N. D. Kaplan became interested in Zionism and in other 
 communal work when still a boy. He became a lawyer, and 
 demonstrated his fine character, common sense and sincerity in 
 everything he did. After working here for the cause of Palestine 
 for a great many years, he left for that country with his wife 
 and two children, who are still there. It was he who interested 
 Mr. Julius Rosenwald in the Hebrew Institute, which is one of 
 the outstanding institutions of Chicago. 
 
 One of the most important acquisitions of the Zionist move 
 ment was Judge Julian W. Mack, with whom I did not become 
 personally acquainted until about 1902 or 1903, although I had 
 often heard of him prior to that time. A fine young man, Ameri' 
 can'born, of Germanjewish extraction, he was a lawyer and a 
 university graduate, and was interested in welfare work. He was 
 connected with a committee for social welfare on the West Side 
 and was one of the organisers of a society known at that time as 
 the Maxwell Street Settlement. He became interested in the 
 Zionist movement about the time that Justice Brandeis made 
 known his interest in this movement. 
 
 I was introduced to him after his nomination as Judge of the 
 Circuit Court and was asked by his friends to support his can" 
 didacy, to help secure his election. There was at that time, if I 
 am not mistaken, already a Jewish judge on the bench, by the 
 name of Philip Stein, who was a native of Germany. He was a 
 well known lawyer, a member of the firm of Kraus and Stein. 
 
 I was pleased at the prospect of having another Jew on the 
 bench, one who was a loyal and idealistic American citizen, and 
 who understood the West Side Jews. Though Mr. Mack was 
 very young for such a responsible office, he impressed everyone 
 as being in every respect reliable, sincere and trustworthy. What- 
 ever he said was clear and to the point, and it was apparent that 
 he meant exactly what he said. 
 
302 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 As I have stated before, the Zionist leaders in those days were 
 accused of many offenses, among them that our motives were 
 chiefly political and that we were "cheap politicians. " I was, 
 therefore, in doubt as to whether it would be advisable for me, 
 as the President of the Knights of Zion, to sponsor the candidacy 
 of Mr. Mack. I took the matter up with some of our officials 
 and leading members, and we had a long discussion about it. 
 After considering the question from all angles, however, and 
 satisfying ourselves as to his qualifications for the office, we 
 decided to give him our full support. Brother Harris remarked 
 that if we helped him to become a judge, we should be able to 
 call upon him to help us in the cause of Zionism; and that, in 
 any event, it would reflect credit upon the Jews of Chicago to 
 have such an able man on the bench. 
 
 We conducted a strong campaign among organisations and 
 congregations. I spoke at several meetings in his behalf, as did 
 Harris. I went one Saturday, with Mr. Mack, to the largest syna' 
 gogue on the West Side, known as the Anshe Kanesses Israel, 
 where I appealed to the congregation to support his candidacy. 
 Mr. Mack also made a very forceful speech on that occasion. 
 
 He was successful in the campaign, and up to this day, I am 
 proud that I did my share in helping him win the election. He is 
 now a Judge of the Federal Court, and in his entire career on the 
 bench, Judge Mack has been considered one of our best jurists. 
 
 In addition, Harris' prophecy was more than realised, for 
 Judge Mack eventually joined the Zionist movement and is now 
 one of its important leaders. He is recognised as one of the 
 prominent Jews of this country. 
 
 Zionism acquired an influential supporter in the person of 
 Justice Louis D. Brandeis, who became interested in the move- 
 ment prior to his elevation to the Supreme Court bench. At one 
 time it devolved upon Mr. Max Shulman and myself to escort 
 him from his hotel to a local Zionist meeting. While riding to the 
 
LEADING CHICAGO ZIONISTS 303 
 
 place of meeting in a carriage, we talked about Zionism in general. 
 Mr. Brandeis asked us for our opinions as to how the movement 
 was progressing. 
 
 "Tell me something," he said, "good, bad or indifferent." 
 
 I pointed out that Zionism did not have one central organ- 
 isation, but too many separate little branches; that we had to 
 make too many excuses and explanations to every little group as 
 to how it was connected with the Zionist movement and how the 
 funds raised were being distributed, and mentioned other flaws 
 due to lack of centralisation. I was flattered when he readily 
 agreed with me. 
 
 Mr. Samuel Ginsberg is another who has done his share in the 
 growth of Zionism. He is known to be one of the most sincere, 
 faithful and reliable workers for the cause, and can be credited 
 with helping to bring the movement to its present standing. 
 
 Mr. Hyman Steinberg is often described as the "brains" of the 
 National Fund, a branch of the Zionist Organisation, which has 
 as its object the raising of funds to buy land in Palestine. He is 
 known to have given more to this cause than he could well afford. 
 A very enthusiastic and forceful speaker, Mr. Steinberg has never 
 failed to emphasise the importance of the National Fund at any 
 gathering he has addressed, and has achieved splendid results. 
 
 Mr. John Rissman is also one of the well known workers for 
 Zionism and other good causes. He is quite a liberal contributor 
 to the Zionist Organisation of Chicago, of which he has been 
 Treasurer for many years. 
 
 Judge J. M. Braude joined the Zionist movement about ten 
 years ago. He served as President of the local group for several 
 years and is now chairman of the National Fund Committee. 
 Under his administration as President of the Chicago Zionist 
 Organisation, two big affairs were given here which attracted 
 nationwide attention. One, known as "The Purim Festival," was 
 given at the Chicago Stadium before an audience of about 25,000. 
 
304 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 The second was a tremendous undertaking called, "The Romance 
 of a People." It was given at Soldier's Field, and over 125,000 
 people attended. Judge Fisher was chairman of the affair. Both 
 pageants were initiated by Mr. Meyer Weisgall of New York. 
 
 Judge Braude is considered one of the ablest judges on the 
 bench, and is admired for his knowledge of the law, for his sin' 
 cerity and for his fair judgment. 
 
 Mr. Harry Lipsky, general manager of the Daily Jewish 
 Courier, and a man of high intellect, has rendered considerable 
 and valuable service to the Zionist movement. Among other 
 things, he was chiefly responsible for having one of the finest 
 schools in Chicago named after Theodore Herd, thus perpetuat- 
 ing the memory of that great leader in this city. 
 
 James Loebner and M. Indrits, well known writers in the 
 Jewish field, were connected with the Jewish Daily Courier for a 
 number of years while Zionism was in process of development. 
 They deserve a great deal of credit for having used their talented 
 pens to further the cause. 
 
 The present editor of the Courier, Dr. Mordecai Katz, has 
 devoted, and still devotes, his splendid literary abilities to aid 
 Zionism. 
 
 Our popular Orthodox Rabbi, Benjamin A. Daskal, has not 
 permitted his many rabbinical duties to interfere with his interest 
 in Palestine. He has responded to every call made upon him. 
 
 It is not possible to mention here all the men and women who 
 have given of their time and energy to Zionism and other com" 
 munity endeavors, but there are some names that come to my 
 mind repeatedly. These are I. T. Feingold, Mr. Ribback, B. J. 
 Schiff, Morris Augustus, J. Miller, Capt. H. Waiss, Dr. Robert 
 L. Halperin, B. L. Sloan, Mr. Meyer Abrams, a well known Chi' 
 cago lawyer, and Mr. Bernard Shulman, who is now taking the 
 place of his departed brother, Max Shulman; also Rabbis Morris 
 Teller, A. E. Abramowitzi, Samuel M. Blumenfield, David Grau' 
 
LEADING CHICAGO ZIONISTS 305 
 
 bart, B. H. Birnbaum, Charles Schulman and Felix Mendelsohn. 
 There are other names that ought to be mentioned here, among 
 the early Zionists, but my memory does not serve me as well as I 
 should like, and so I hope an oversight will not be judged 
 too harshly. 
 
 It is of interest to note that practically all the men I have 
 named here came to Chicago as poor immigrants, without friends 
 or money, and unfamiliar with the language. Yet each managed, 
 through hard and honest work, to become a good citizen, bene' 
 fiting the city as a whole and the Jewish community as well. 
 
 A few years ago, the older Zionists realised that younger blood 
 was desirable in the movement. This suggestion was particularly 
 advanced by Rabbi Solomon Goldman. It was consequently de' 
 cided that the old administration, under Mr. Max Shulman, 
 should delegate their main activities to younger men. Mr. William 
 Katz, a well-known business man, was elected president, and with 
 Col. A. H. Rosenberg, a prominent financier and very able organ' 
 iser, Dr. A. K. Epstein, a well'known chemist, and several others, 
 took over the leadership in 1935, under the direction of Rabbi 
 Goldman. 
 
 Mr. Kats is serving his third term as president of the Chicago 
 Zionist Organisation. He has proved to be a hard and earnest 
 worker, well fitted for his task. 
 
 Dr. Epstein, a man of high intellect and ideals, devotes a great 
 deal of his time and money to the cause of Zionism. He is of the 
 old'time "Russian intelligentsia,'' ' of which a fellowchemist, Dr. 
 Wolf Kritchewski, is another fine example. 
 
 Colonel Rosenberg has proved himself, in connection with his 
 work in Zionism, a man of unusual energy, earnest and conscien' 
 tious, and possessed of good common sense. He contributes most 
 liberally to the cause. 
 
 At the time these men came into office, the Zionist movement 
 had been under way for about forty years, and had spread to every 
 
306 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 part of the world. A great deal was expected from the new ad- 
 
 a 
 
 ministration — but many unforeseen developments have since 
 occurred, and considering these factors the new leadership has 
 functioned to the best of its ability. 
 
 In 1938, because of his zeal and particular qualifications, Rabbi 
 Goldman was elected president of the Zionist Organisation of 
 America. 
 
 The Zionists of Chicago can be proud of having contributed 
 more than their share to the development of Palestine, the people 
 I have mentioned being largely responsible for what has been 
 accomplished. We have raised many millions of dollars, having 
 given as much as $200,000.00 in a single year. We have helped 
 large numbers of homeless refugees to settle in Palestine and 
 start life over again. 
 
 At present Palestine contains about 450,000 Jews, the all' 
 Jewish city, Tel Aviv, containing more than 1 50,000 Jews. Some 
 125,000 are living in 200 settlements on the land. It is indeed a 
 splendid piece of work that has been done there — and a privi' 
 lege to have shared in that task. 
 
 In the front rank of those who labored for Zionism were Chi' 
 cago women of outstanding ability. 
 
 "Hadassah," the women's branch of the Zionist organisation, 
 has grown to great strength. National in scope, it is composed of 
 girls and women in all walks of life. Its chief purpose has been 
 the maintaining of hospitals in Palestine, giving medical aid to 
 both Jews and non'Jews, in that country. An extremely active 
 and ambitious group, the women of "Hadassah" raise hundreds 
 of thousands of dollars each year to carry on their splendid task. 
 In the last few years, they have done wonderful work in connec 
 tion with the "Youth Aliyah," which movement has concerned 
 itself with taking Jewish children out of Germany and resettling 
 them in Palestine. 
 
LEADING CHICAGO ZIONISTS 307 
 
 Among the women most active in "Hadassah" and Zionism in 
 Chicago are the following: Mrs. Benjamin Davis, Esther Wein' 
 shenker Natkin, Hannah Shulman Sager, Pearl Franklin, Bertha 
 Read Rissman, Jennie Perlstein, Mrs. Belle Friedlander, Mrs. 
 Bertha Berkman, Mrs. Goldie Stone, Mrs. Harry M. Fisher and 
 Mrs. S. H. Soboroff. Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Stone have always 
 worked closely together. They have not confined their interest to 
 Zionism but have been active in every project looking to the 
 welfare of the Jewish community. 
 
 All of these women have a fine understanding of the history 
 and ideals of Zionism and each of them has a long record of 
 unselfish service and unswerving devotion in that cause so vital 
 to the spirit of Israel. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 WAR RELIEF 
 
 About a year after the outbreak of the World War, we re- 
 ceived information concerning the suffering of the people in 
 Poland and Russia, especially among the Jews of those countries. 
 My brother, Harris, insisted that something must be done to help 
 these poor people. 
 
 I thereupon took up the matter with a few of our Zionist 
 leaders, and we at once decided to organise a movement to raise 
 money for this purpose. I consulted with Dr. Emil G. Hirsch, 
 and asked him to prevail upon Mr. Julius Rosenwald to lend his 
 assistance to the undertaking, and he complied with my request. 
 It was suggested to him, however, by Mr. Rosenwald that it was 
 not proper for us to raise money for Jews only, but that we 
 should raise money for all people. With this Dr. Hirsch did not 
 agree, reasoning that the Jews were the greatest sufferers, and the 
 first victims whenever the Russians entered enemy country. Jews, 
 he said, were fighting on the battlefields of every nation, and were 
 thus actually compelled to fight against each other. He felt we 
 should come to the aid of the Jews first, and then, if a general 
 movement was started, we should all participate and contribute 
 as much as we could thereto. 
 
 I called another meeting, and we worked out a program. At 
 our first mass meeting, Dr. Hirsch was one of the principal 
 speakers, and we raised several thousand dollars. Soon afterward, 
 similar organizations were formed in various cities throughout the 
 United States, and a great deal of money was raised during the 
 war for the sufferers in Europe. 
 
 Among the calls for assistance was an urgent appeal from 
 Palestine. Several cables were received informing us that due to 
 war conditions, there was a great scarcity of food, and the Jews 
 
 308 
 
WAR RELIEF 309 
 
 in Palestine were on the verge of starvation. We were urged to 
 send food at once. 
 
 A group of us Zionists immediately organised a committee for 
 the purpose of securing contributions of food. As chairman of 
 the meeting, I suggested the slogan, "Bread for Palestine," 
 which was unanimously accepted. Within a comparatively short 
 time, we managed to obtain donations of several carloads of flour, 
 cereal and other groceries, and shipped them to Palestine. We 
 continued this work for quite a while, until the situation changed 
 for the better. 
 
 In the meantime, the leading Jews of New York had organised 
 the Jewish Relief Joint Distribution Committee. This had three 
 branches, one being known as the American Jewish Relief Com- 
 mittee, the other as the Central Relief Committee, and the third 
 as the Peoples Relief Committee. I was a member of the Chicago 
 group, which joined as a branch of the Central Relief Committee. 
 
 The above-mentioned relief organisations prevailed upon Presi- 
 dent Wilson to designate a certain day to be devoted to raising 
 funds to buy food for Jewish war sufferers, and the President 
 accordingly designated January 17, 1916, as "Jewish Day." On 
 that day, meetings were held throughout the country. As chairman 
 of the Central Relief Committee of Chicago, I arranged that 
 meetings be held by all local synagogues and Jewish organisations. 
 
 I was called upon to preside at a meeting that evening at the 
 Anshe Kanesses Israel. In my opening remarks, I drew a com- 
 parison between an experience of my youth and the current situa- 
 tion. I recalled the custom of providing "eating days" for poor 
 Talmudic students. 
 
 "When, as a lad of thirteen," I related, "I was a student of the 
 Talmud in Wilno, I remember how the beadle of the synagogue 
 took me by the hand and appealed to the generosity of the con- 
 gregation to provide me with an 'eating day.' 
 
310 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "Now this day," I continued, "has been set aside by the Presi- 
 dent of the United States as an 'eating day, 1 not for a single 
 individual, but for all the hungry Jews of Europe." 
 
 A visiting speaker from New York liked my analogy so well 
 that he later reported it to the Executive Committee in that city. 
 
 When I concluded my appeal, Judge Hugo Pam rose to address 
 the congregation. Remarking that he had no money with him, 
 he took out his watch, which was a very valuable one, and handed 
 it to the secretary, as his contribution for the cause. Others fol- 
 lowed his example, and we collected a large amount of jewelry, 
 which was later auctioned back to the owners. In addition, we 
 raised at the synagogue that evening over $10,000.00 in cash 
 contributions. The total raised throughout the country on that 
 day amounted to several million dollars. 
 
 Since the above-named organisations were formed, they have 
 raised and distributed about a hundred and twenty-five million 
 dollars for the relief of European Jewry. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Soon after the war ended, I was called upon to act as one of 
 three commissioners delegated to go to Poland to distribute food 
 and money to the needy. I received a telephone call from New 
 York, and then a letter, instructing me to be ready on a certain 
 date, if I accepted, and was informed that a shipload of food 
 would be en route to Poland, so that when we arrived we could 
 at once proceed to distribute the food and organise relief stations 
 wherever necessary. The letter contained specific instructions. 
 We were supposed to sail within three weeks from the date men- 
 tioned, going first to Copenhagen, Denmark. Our passports and 
 letters of credit, we were informed, would be ready for us, so 
 that we would not have to waste time in New York. 
 
 Dr. Boris Bogan, who was a professional community worker 
 and a graduate of a school of social service, left about two weeks 
 ahead of the rest of us, to arrange for an office and living quarters. 
 
WAR RELIEF 311 
 
 He was to act as the general secretary for the American Jewish 
 Joint Distribution Committee and the three branch organisations. 
 
 My fellow members of the commission were Mr. Isadore Hersh' 
 field, an attorney, representing the American Jewish Relief Com' 
 mittee, which consisted chiefly of well'to'do Jews of the country; 
 and Mr. Baruch Zuckerman, who represented the People's Relief 
 Committee, composed mainly of representatives of the laboring 
 class. I represented the Central Relief Committee, composed 
 chiefly of middle class Orthodox Jews. 
 
 It was shortly after the Armistice was declared that all these 
 arrangements were made. Conditions in Europe were still very 
 chaotic. Communication and travel, both by rail and water, were 
 uncertain and difficult. My relatives and friends urged me not to 
 go on this mission, because of the many dangers involved; but 
 my mind was made up, and I made the necessary preparations for 
 the journey. 
 
 About twelve days before I was to leave Chicago, I was sud' 
 denly informed that I would have to obtain my passport myself. 
 I at once put in a long distance call to Mr. Lucas, who was in 
 charge of the New York office, and kept him on the telephone for 
 ten minutes, in an effort to learn the reason for this, since their 
 letter had definitely stated that they would make all such arrange 
 ments, and that my passport would be ready for me on my arrival 
 in New York. Mr. Lucas, however, answered me evasively, and 
 simply repeated: "You will have to get your passport yourself, or 
 you cannot go." 
 
 I was greatly disturbed by this unexpected development. The 
 Jewish press, and many other papers, had already announced that 
 I was to serve on the Relief Commission, under the Hoover Food 
 Administration, and I had gone to a great deal of trouble to 
 prepare myself for the journey. 
 
 I immediately started negotiations with the proper authorities 
 in Chicago and New York. Shortly afterward, I was called in 
 
312 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 by Federal officials for questioning. They amazed me by telling me 
 point-blank that I was listed in the government records as having 
 been disloyal in my expressed attitude toward the war, and asked 
 for an explanation. I requested that they give me the particulars 
 of any complaints that had been lodged against me, but they 
 refused to give me any details, and stated only that their granting 
 of the passport would depend on what explanation I could offer. 
 I thereupon stated my case, as follows: 
 
 "When our government declared war," I said, "and the citizens 
 were called upon to obey all its orders, I, as a citizen of the 
 United States, did obey all the laws, orders and regulations issued 
 in connection therewith. I bought all the Liberty bonds that I 
 could, and advised many young men to enlist and not wait to be 
 drafted. I have three nephews, who enlisted on my advice. As to 
 what I have in my own mind, concerning whether it was proper 
 to enter the war, that, I believe, is my own affair. As an American 
 citizen for the last thirty-eight years, I have always understood 
 that I was entitled to my own opinion so long as it did not inter' 
 fere with the laws of the country. 
 
 "Regarding my loyalty and good citizenship,' ' I added, "let me 
 give you a brief summary of my activities since I came here. 
 When I came to this country, I brought with me about a hundred 
 and fifty dollars, which was a great deal more than was brought 
 by any other immigrant I know of. I worked for every cent I 
 earned here, and did my share in helping to build the country. 
 Starting out as a common laborer, I afterward became a manu" 
 facturer and erected factory buildings. I now employ many people, 
 and at the same time am interested in community affairs, doing 
 all I can for those who are in need. For the past five years I have 
 been serving on the Board of Election Commissioners of Chicago. 
 
 "Now I have been called upon to go to war-stricken Europe 
 on a mission of mercy, to help feed and clothe the wives, children 
 and relatives of men here in America, who are American citizens, 
 
WAR RELIEF 313 
 
 and to aid other victims of the war. I have accepted the call and 
 am ready to go, though I do so at a great sacrifice to my business, 
 and perhaps to my health. I can furnish you with letters from 
 prominent Chicagoans, some of whom are known throughout the 
 United States, which will tell you whether or not I am entitled 
 to a passport." 
 
 My little speech seemed to make the desired impression upon 
 the three men who were questioning me. 
 
 "We will take this up with the passport authorities in Wash' 
 ington at once," said one of them; and another added: "If you 
 want to go, you had better be ready. The chances are that you 
 will get your passport." 
 
 Before leaving Chicago, I wrote to Miss Bella Jay (now Mrs. 
 Friedlander) , who was then in Washington, in the employ of the 
 government. She had been secretary of the relief office in Chicago 
 during the time I was chairman of the organisation. I asked her 
 to secure the passport for me, and send it to New York, in care 
 of the Astor Hotel. There I received it the day after I arrived in 
 New York. 
 
 Although I now had my passport, as well as letters of recom' 
 mendation from several of the most prominent men in Chicago, 
 I was anxious to find out just what the government had against 
 me, and requested one of my trusted friends to do everything he 
 could to discover the nature of the charges during my absence. 
 
 Six months later, when I returned from Europe, I was informed 
 that the records in Washington showed, under the letter "H," 
 the names of two men who had not been one hundred per cent 
 loyal in their attitude toward the war. One of the names was 
 that of Dr. Emil G. Hirsch, and next to his name, was mine. On 
 being told of this, I felt no shame at all. In fact, I often remarked 
 about it to my friends, asserting that if there was any blemish on 
 my name, it was worth it, if it placed me in the same category 
 
314 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 with a man like Dr. Hirsch, one of the most prominent orators, 
 scholars and thinkers in the United States. 
 
 The specific charges, I discovered, were these: During the 
 period of the war, President M. Salk and Rabbi Ephraim Epstein 
 had requested me to speak one Friday evening in their synagogue, 
 Anshe Kanesses Israel, on which occasion Judge Harry M. Fisher 
 was also to speak. 
 
 I accepted the invitation with the understanding that I would 
 be allowed to choose my own subject. In the course of my talk, 
 I severely criticised the officers and directors of the congregation 
 for inviting or permitting men to deliver speeches concerned with 
 war propaganda, especially during the services. A week before, 
 I had attended holiday services in that synagogue, during which 
 I listened to a speech by a prominent lawyer, Levy Mayer, who 
 is now deceased. Mr. Mayer had a national reputation as a lawyer 
 and a man of great influence. 
 
 "Here you are free citizens," he told the congregation. "You 
 can worship the way you want to; you are free to send your 
 children to school, and are free to engage in any business you 
 wish to. In short, you are American citizens, with the same rights 
 as any other American. Now, since this country is at war, you 
 should support the war with heart, soul and mind. If not, you 
 may suffer the same pogroms, oppression and persecution that 
 you did in Russia!" 
 
 In my talk before the congregation, I stated that Mr. Mayer 
 had been right and had performed his duty when he told the 
 people to be loyal to the United States in every way and all the 
 time, especially in wartime. 
 
 "However," I added, "war means killing and maiming, shed' 
 ding human blood and visiting unspeakable agony upon human 
 beings. Therefore, a synagogue, which is a house of worship, is 
 not the proper place for advocating the killing and maiming of 
 human beings and preaching inhumanity. When we pray to God, 
 
WAR RELIEF 315 
 
 whom we claim to be the Father of all mankind, and ask His for- 
 giveness and that He be merciful toward everyone, no matter 
 who or where he may be, we should not at the same time think 
 of murdering and shedding the blood of hundreds of thousands of 
 human beings. 
 
 "Here in this holy place, we should pray to God that the war 
 be ended soon, and by some kind of compromise. Our President 
 Wilson has often used the expression, Teace without victory/ 
 Of all the phrases he has coined, I like this one the best. May the 
 war be ended with a peace without malice or revenge. 
 
 "Certainly this is not the place to preach hatred against our 
 German neighbors, because their government is at war with our 
 government. They are Americans, like ourselves. They live near 
 us, and have been our friends. Why should we preach hatred 
 against friends and good neighbors? 
 
 "We are doing our duty in obeying the orders of the govern- 
 ment, in buying war bonds, paying our taxes and sending our sons 
 and relatives thousands of miles away, possibly to be maimed or 
 killed. What more can we do?" 
 
 My greatest objection was to Mr. Mayer's statement about 
 pogroms and persecutions. I showed how inconsistent he was. 
 
 "First," I said, "he tells us that we have equal rights and are 
 just as good as any other American, and in the next breath he 
 says that we may suffer pogroms. If we are free citizens, we are 
 entitled to every privilege and protection enjoyed by all other 
 American citizens. If that is so, why should he suggest that they 
 may make pogroms against us?" 
 
 Someone in the congregation (I afterwards learned who it was) 
 reported what I had said to the authorities here, and it was for 
 that reason that my name had been placed on the list, as being 
 disloyal to the government in my attitude toward the war. 
 
 After completing arrangements in New York pertaining to 
 finances, passports and other details, Mr. Hershfield and I de- 
 
316 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 parted for Copenhagen. We sailed on a very small steamer, and 
 the voyage took nearly four weeks. We found the trip quite 
 thrilling and dangerous, as it was necessary for the ship to traverse 
 long stretches of ocean that contained nests of mines which had 
 been planted by the warring countries. Though a great many of 
 the mines had been removed, quite a number still remained; some 
 of them had broken away and could be seen floating about. 
 
 There were several hundred passengers on the boat. For some 
 time, none of us were aware of the situation. We only knew that 
 we were sailing along very slowly, and at times would even stop 
 for hours. Frequently we were at a complete standstill all night. 
 When the passengers became restless, and began complaining, the 
 captain, who was a Dane and spoke English rather quaintly, ex' 
 plained the matter in a humorous way. 
 
 "If it takes me a whole lot longer than it should,'' he said, "to 
 take you to your destination, then the only thing you can say 
 about me is that Fm a slow captain; but if I should run into a 
 mine and drown you all, your families and the whole world will 
 not say that Fm a slow captain, but a murderous captain. There 
 fore, I choose to be a slow captain." 
 
 We arrived safely in Copenhagen, where we found Mr. 
 Zuckerman, who had preceded us. We settled down to wait for 
 the food boat. 
 
 A week after our arrival, we were invited to a reception to be 
 given in our honor by the Rabbi and prominent Jewish citizens 
 of Copenhagen. On that occasion, we were naturally called upon 
 to speak. Mr. Hershfield, who spoke first, explained about the 
 work his committee was doing and intended to do for the war 
 sufferers, and made a very good impression upon his audience. 
 
 Mr. Zuckerman then spoke, telling about the poor working 
 people, and how they suffered both in war and in peace. Though 
 a very forceful, convincing and fiery speaker, I noticed that his 
 
WAR RELIEF 317 
 
 talk had a depressing effect upon his hearers, and I therefore 
 decided, when my turn came, to speak in a lighter vein. 
 
 I began by stating that only twice in my life had I heard about 
 Denmark — the first time was when I read Shakespeare's play, 
 "Hamlet, Prince of Denmark," and the second time was when we 
 were informed, in New York, that our destination would be 
 Denmark. Although this comment might have been taken as an 
 insult, the audience seemed to enjoy it, and laughed graciously. 
 I went on to describe what I had observed during the twelve days 
 of my visit. 
 
 "You should be proud of your city," I told them. "It is like 
 London, in almost every respect, although it isn't so large or so 
 noisy. But the weather is the same, as it rains from morning to 
 night. The only difference is that in London, the people carry 
 umbrellas or wear raincoats, while here they go out in the rain 
 without either, and don't even get wet. God must have taken 
 care of you good Copenhagen people, when you can go out in the 
 rain without umbrellas and not get wet." 
 
 I congratulated them upon the appearance and courteous 
 behavior of the police officials, and of the people in general, and 
 concluded with a joke about London. After a certain man had 
 been there for two weeks, during which time it rained steadily, he 
 asked the hotelkeeper whether it rained in London all the year 
 'round. "Well," the latter replied, "it doesn't rain all the time — 
 sometimes it snows." 
 
 As we had as yet received no word concerning our food ship, 
 which was known as "Westward Ho," we took the matter up 
 with the American authorities. We were informed that the ship 
 was en route to Poland, where it was due to arrive within a few 
 days. As we prepared to leave for Poland, we were advised to 
 provide ourselves with sufficient food for the trip, as we would 
 have to pass through Germany, where food could not be secured 
 at any price. 
 
318 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 When we arrived in Warsaw, a few days later, we found Dr. 
 Boris Bogan, the general secretary of all the Committees, waiting 
 for us. 
 
 Dr. Bogan, who has since passed away, was a person of high 
 intelligence. He was well read, spoke Russian, Yiddish and some 
 Polish, and was quite a statesman. However, after working with 
 him for a week, I found that he possessed a fault common to most 
 men who like himself were professional social workers. He wanted 
 to handle everything, from beginning to end, and did not want 
 any of his associates to initiate anything, or make any plans or 
 advise him what to do. This naturally gave rise to misunder- 
 standings between us from the start. 
 
 As to the characteristics of Mr. Zuckerman, I found him to be 
 very conscientious and very able, and a forceful, interesting and 
 convincing speaker. However, he possessed a fault in that every 
 thing he said or did was colored by his uncompromising and 
 almost fanatical attitude toward the labor question. He was con- 
 cerned first, last and always with the working man, and could see 
 in only one direction, no matter what was involved. 
 
 Mr. Hershfield, who is a man of good common sense and also 
 speaks well, I found to be a very easy-going individual. In the 
 course of our activities, he never insisted on anything, nor would 
 he try to initiate any plans. He just went along, carefully avoid- 
 ing controversies. 
 
 It is only fair, I suppose, that I should also mention here my 
 own faults, and I shall try to give a true picture by imagining 
 that I am talking about someone else. 
 
 Outside of a few years at "cheder" (Hebrew school), I have 
 had no schooling, since from the time I left "cheder," at the age 
 of thirteen, I had the responsibility of earning a livelihood. I 
 worked hard and had very little time to spend in reading or study. 
 Thus, whatever knowledge I have acquired, has been grasped 
 here and there, wherever I could get it. Whenever I find myself 
 
WAR RELIEF 319 
 
 among people who are superior intellectually, whether I know 
 them or not, I suffer from a feeling of inferiority. By nature, I am 
 very nervous. Though I have always tried to control this, I have 
 forgotten myself at times and let my nerves get the best of me. 
 In these cases, I have to make a great effort to "calm down," and 
 this explains my sometimes displaying a harsh temper. In spite 
 of these drawbacks, however, when I have time to think things 
 over, I generally know what I want, and can distinguish between 
 common sense and mere foolishness. 
 
 From the above descriptions, it is obvious that we four men 
 did not make the best possible team. However, Dr. Bogan, in his 
 report afterwards to the Joint Distribution Committee, to whom 
 we were answerable, gave me a good deal of credit for my work 
 on the commission. I later had the further satisfaction of hearing 
 Mr. Felix Warburg, president of the Joint Distribution Com' 
 mittee, state at a meeting that I had been most fit for the work, 
 and he added that if my advice had been followed, much of the 
 trouble we encountered could have been avoided, and many lives 
 have been saved. 
 
 Our first misunderstanding occurred two days after our arrival 
 in Warsaw, when we four met to map out our program. Dr. 
 Bogan, who presided, asked what we thought should be done 
 first. My two colleagues wanted an expression from him, but he 
 said he wanted to hear my opinion before stating his. I told him 
 that it seemed to me our first duty was to see Prime Minister 
 Ignas Paderewski, then the recognised head of the Polish govern" 
 ment, since we had come on a mission which concerned Polish 
 citizens, both Jews and non-Jews. I believed that we should report 
 first to Premier Paderewski, extending to him the courtesy he de- 
 served, after which our next step would be to make arrangements 
 for the proper division of the shipload of food between the Jews 
 and the nonjews. 
 
320 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Mr. Zuckerman objected strenuously to my suggestions. He 
 stated that his conscience and his policy, from the proletarian 
 point of view, would not permit him to visit a representative of 
 the bourgeois class and the so-called nobility. A heated argument 
 ensued between Mr. Zuckerman and myself, as Dr. Bogan and 
 Mr. Hershfield did not take part in the discussion. I tried to 
 impress upon Mr. Zuckerman the fact that we were in a strange 
 land, with a newly formed government, and that for our own 
 protection, it was essential that we make ourselves and our mis- 
 sion known to them. Besides, we were semi-official representatives 
 of the Hoover Food Administration of the United States, and 
 it was therefore our duty to show courtesy to the head of the 
 Polish government. 
 
 All these arguments were of no avail. It was then I realised 
 what a strong force Mr. Zuckerman was to deal with. Shouting 
 at the top of his voice and emphasising his remarks by hammering 
 his fist heavily on the table, he insisted that if we decided to go 
 and see the Prime Minister, he would leave the Committee and 
 have nothing to do with us. Influenced by his excited arguments, 
 the other two men agreed to follow Mr. Zuckerman's advice, and 
 make no official report to the government. 
 
 Three days later, we each received a letter from His Excellency, 
 Ignas Paderewski, asking that we meet with him on a certain 
 day, at a specified place, to discuss methods and plans for dis- 
 posing of our shipload of food, which had by this time arrived. 
 My colleagues felt that this was as it should be — that Mr. 
 Zuckerman was right. We had not had to go to the government, 
 but had made the government come to us. I, however, still felt 
 our procedure had been wrong. 
 
 When we assembled at the appointed time, there were present, 
 besides the Prime Minister, several officials of the Polish govern- 
 ment, and Rabbi Perlmutter, a well known Orthodox Rabbi whom 
 
WAR RELIEF 321 
 
 the Prime Minister had invited. The latter's remarks, upon open' 
 ing the conference, made us all blush. 
 
 "You found it important enough," said Paderewski, "to make 
 statements to the press, and to see a good many private people 
 about your being here; but you did not think it was proper to 
 report to the officials of the government of Poland as to your 
 arrival and the mission you have to perform. " My three com" 
 panions looked very abashed, and I was the only one who could 
 hold up my head. 
 
 In discussing the unloading and division of the food, it was 
 suggested that a committee be appointed to handle the matter. 
 I proposed, however, that since the cargo had been under the 
 jurisdiction of the Polish government from the start, and since we 
 could not obtain it without their authority, we should only be 
 considered as consignees of that portion intended for distribution 
 among the Jewish population; that we accordingly secure permis' 
 sion to remove our portion, leaving the rest in the hands of the 
 Polish government. The Polish officials still felt it would be best 
 that a joint committee be appointed, and my colleagues agreed 
 with them. Further discussion ensued, and it was decided the 
 matter be held in abeyance. 
 
 That afternoon, when we four met alone, I was reproached 
 for the stand I had taken. The others felt I had been impolite and 
 undiplomatic and had acted as though I did not trust the Polish 
 government with our part of the cargo. Even Mr. Zuckerman, 
 who had opposed our going to see the Prime Minister, thought 
 that I had been unwise and even impertinent, in making the 
 proposition I did. Though I felt hurt by their manner, I remained 
 outwardly calm. 
 
 A few days later I informed Dr. Bogan that I would like to 
 take full charge of the immediate unloading of our part of the 
 cargo. To my great surprise, he agreed to let me handle the 
 matter. 
 
322 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I at once engaged a man who was recommended to me as being 
 reliable and intelligent, and who knew how to deal with the 
 government officials. Although I had a statement showing what 
 food belonged to us, it took me six days of trotting around from 
 one office to another, using all the influence I could, before we 
 finally received permission to start unloading our portion. When 
 this was accomplished, we rented a warehouse, engaged wagons 
 and trucks, and in a comparatively short time had all our allotted 
 foodstuff under our own jurisdiction. This food consisted of flour, 
 condensed milk, vegetable oil and cheese. 
 
 About six weeks later the Polish government issued a claim 
 against us for nearly $200,000.00, asserting that food to that 
 amount had been stolen from the boat before we unloaded our 
 allotment. Fortunately we had official documents proving that 
 we had withdrawn only what belonged to us, and though we 
 had numerous arguments and discussions with officials of the 
 government, we ended up without paying them anything. 
 
 The difficult question of distribution now arose. In that re 
 spect, we considered Dr. Bogan an authority, and decided to 
 leave that phase of our activities in his hands. His plan was that 
 we first publish in all the local papers the fact that we had food 
 to distribute among all in dire need thereof, and requesting that 
 these people come to our office and register their names and 
 addresses, and other necessary information. Upon the completion 
 of these registrations, we were to investigate as to which were 
 worthy cases. We would then set up stations in various parts of 
 the city, and all those having proof that they were entitled to the 
 food, would receive supplies according to their needs. 
 
 These elaborate arrangements did not appeal to me, as it was 
 obvious that it would be a tremendous undertaking to register 
 and investigate over a hundred thousand people. During the time 
 it would take to do all this, hundreds might perish for lack of food. 
 However, Dr. Bogan assured me that he knew what he was 
 
WAR RELIEF 323 
 
 doing, and that he could handle this part of our work better than 
 I. Since I had no better plan to offer at the moment, I said 
 nothing. 
 
 Our office was instructed to call in the newspaper men and 
 make announcement of our procedure. I learned, at this time, that 
 there were about three hundred and fifty thousand Jews in 
 Warsaw. Before the war, there had been an organisation to take 
 care of the sick and the needy, and making inquiries on my own 
 initiative, I discovered that this organisation was still in existence. 
 
 My daily contacts with the representative Jews of Poland 
 showed them to be understanding and highly intelligent. Almost 
 all of them spoke a fine German, as well as Polish and Yiddish, 
 and most of them were well read and well versed as to world con' 
 ditions. From my observations, it appeared that the better'situated 
 class of people were serious and reliable, although it must be said 
 that the poorer people, those to whom procuring bread and milk 
 was the problem of the day, could not be believed in every 
 instance. 
 
 My colleagues did not quite agree with my findings. Mr. 
 Zuckerman felt that the only people we should deal with were 
 the representatives of union labor while Dr. Bogan was of the 
 opinion that one could not rely too greatly on the word of any 
 of the Polish Jews. 
 
 However, I took it upon myself to go to see the president of 
 the relief organisation of which I had learned. He was a promi' 
 nent banker of the city. He told me he was glad that I had come 
 to him, since he had already seen Dr. Bogan, who had stated he 
 would have nothing to do with that group. 
 
 He informed me that their organisation had seven branches in 
 Warsaw; that they had the names of all those who needed help, 
 and could be of real service to us. The organisation comprised 
 leading citisens of the town, and the officers and directors were 
 
324 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 responsible and reliable. However, when I suggested to Dr. 
 Bogan that we use their facilities, he would not consent. 
 
 "You don't know the people here as well as I do," he said. 
 "Anything that is to be done must be done by ourselves, and not 
 through them." 
 
 And so the registration took place, as planned. We had to rent 
 a large office for the purpose, and employ a good many people. 
 Everybody was kept busy with the registration, looking for desip 
 able places in various parts of the city, setting up stations, and 
 distributing the food. 
 
 After the distribution began, I took a tour around the stations, 
 and when I saw what the people were receiving, I was convinced 
 the matter was not being handled properly. 
 
 At the first branch I visited, I met a woman coming out with 
 two pounds of flour, a few cans of condensed milk and some 
 vegetable oil. I asked her opinion about it, and she said: 
 
 "If they would give me a whole sack of flour, I could have it 
 for a few weeks; I could bake bread and could use it for soup 
 with the milk. I could make cake and use a little of the oil for it. 
 But what can I do with two pounds of flour, except to make a 
 little soup with it?" 
 
 I learned also that the flour that was handed out was wrapped 
 in loose pieces of paper, so that by the time the people brought 
 it home, most of it was lost. Many of the people, I discovered, 
 would take their ration of flour into a bakery shop and trade it 
 for a loaf or half a loaf of bread. This, of course, we could not 
 control. All in all, considering the expense involved in parcelling 
 out rations in such small amounts, the undertaking, at the begin" 
 ning, did not prove successful. Gradually, however, the various 
 difficulties were overcome, and the distribution then proceeded 
 smoothly. 
 
 While this work was going on, we decided, at one of our 
 meetings, that all of us need not stay in Warsaw, and that our 
 
WAR RELIEF 325 
 
 activities should be divided among various sections of Poland. 
 Mr. Hershfield was delegated to take a large sum of money and 
 distribute it in the small communities of one district, while Mr. 
 Zuckerman was to go in another direction, distributing foodstuff. 
 Dr. Bogan arranged to visit the larger cities in Poland and 
 Lithuania. It devolved upon me to remain in Warsaw and super' 
 vise the distribution of our food there. Since it was now close 
 to Passover, I was also to make arrangements for the baking of 
 matsos for those listed in our registry. 
 
 Poland was at that time having border difficulties with Russia, 
 which had just come under the control of the "Bolsheviks." I 
 accordingly advised my colleagues to see the authorities in 
 Warsaw before starting out, so that they might know what places 
 to avoid. I also suggested that they secure civil and military 
 credentials, to be on the safe side, especially in the case of Mr. 
 Hershfield, who was to carry large sums of money. 
 
 On this matter, we also disagreed. Mr. Zuckerman argued that 
 these precautions were unnecessary, since we were American 
 citizens and had passports and therefore no one had any right to 
 interfere with us. He went on to say that, as a representative of 
 the working class, he would not humiliate himself by going to 
 the bourgeois government to ask for favors. 
 
 "How will you get along without knowing the language," I 
 asked, "and what will you do if the official is unable to read your 
 English passport?" 
 
 "Let him go and learn the language," he replied, "so that he 
 can speak to me instead of me speaking to him." 
 
 My suggestions were all overruled, and they left for their 
 respective territories. At that time, the decisions and activities 
 of the Committee were published in both the Jewish and Polish 
 press. 
 
 I now turned to my assigned tasks and began to make inquiries 
 about matso baking, of which I knew very little. As a lad of ten 
 
32o MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 or twelve, I had played near the shop of my uncle, Chaim Eleasei, 
 who was a matso baker, and all I knew was what I had gathered 
 from watching him. 
 
 To aid me with this difficult problem, I went to see a well 
 known Jew of Warsaw, Mr. Levin Epstein, whose brother, Mr. 
 E. W. Levin Epstein, I knew in America. The latter was known 
 throughout the Zionist world as the founder of Rishon L'Zion, 
 one of the very oldest colonies in Palestine. He also was the man 
 who had established branches all over the world for the sale of 
 carmel wine, produced in Palestine, in which venture Baron 
 Rothschild was interested, having invested the necessary funds. 
 
 Mr. Levin Epstein arranged for me to see him at his home. On 
 my arrival, at the appointed time, I found several prominent men, 
 among them two Rabbis. These men explained to me the difficult 
 ties I would encounter in trying to bake matzos for distribution. 
 First of all, they said, the pious people would raise the question 
 of whether the flour, having come from a foreign country, was 
 kosher; that they would want to know whether the flour was 
 produced for the purpose of making matsos. Secondly, they told 
 me that there were enough matso bakers in Warsaw to supply 
 more than was needed for the Jewish population of the city. A 
 third objection was that the minute we started, we would have 
 strikes, instigated by the regular matso bakers, and we would 
 have trouble with the labor unions. Fourthly, they assured me 
 that a great many families were receiving matsos from their 
 relatives in other countries. The general conclusion was that it 
 would be foolish for me to attempt such an undertaking. We 
 talked the matter over for about three hours, although I realised 
 from the beginning that they were right. 
 
 I decided then to confer with the president of the relief organ' 
 isation whom I had previously interviewed. Upon stating my 
 problem, he assured me that he would place their list of needy 
 families at my disposal. 
 
WAR RELIEF 327 
 
 "If you have confidence in what I tell you," he said, "and if 
 you want to take my advice, this is what you ought to do. We 
 will furnish you with an estimate of how much it will cost to 
 supply all the poor with matsos. If you will then give us the 
 money, we will use our seven branch offices to distribute the cash 
 to the needy. With this they can buy meat, fish or shoes, or any" 
 thing else, in case they are supplied with matzjos through some 
 other source." 
 
 I at once agreed to this plan, and he advised me that he would 
 call a meeting of the directors of his organisation and let me know 
 their reaction. 
 
 When I returned to the office, I was surprised to find Mr. 
 Zuckerman, back from his trip. He seemed disturbed and 
 distressed. 
 
 "What is the matter, friend Zuckerman?" I asked. 
 
 "Nothing," he replied, and springing up, said, "Don't bother 
 me." 
 
 I assumed he had had some difficulty with the officials, and 
 asking no more, went about my business. 
 
 When I came out again into the street, I heard people talking 
 excitedly, mentioning something about a great tragedy that had 
 occurred in the town of Pinsk. I soon learned the details. Pinsk 
 lies not far from the Russian frontier, where border fighting was 
 in progress between Russia and Poland at that time. When Mr. 
 Zuckerman arrived in that town, in the course of his trip, he 
 neglected to report to the authorities to inform them of his mis- 
 sion, namely, that he had come to inquire, as representative of an 
 American Relief Organisation, how many people were in need 
 of food and clothing, and that it would be necessary for him to 
 call a meeting of some of the townspeople for that purpose. He 
 merely notified the representatives of the working people that they 
 should come to see him, to decide upon how much food should be 
 sent in. 
 
328 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 After meeting with these representatives, and discussing the 
 matter with them, Mr. Zuckerman left. That evening, the men 
 with whom he had conferred called a meeting of about forty of 
 their union members. While this was in progress, someone re 
 ported to the Polish military authorities stationed in the town 
 that a Jewish radical and sympathiser of Soviet Russia had been 
 there, and had advised the local labor leaders to call a meeting to 
 discuss rendering help to the Russian army, in their attacks on 
 the Poles. 
 
 The clever and patriotic Polish official to whom this was 
 reported succeeded in accomplishing a very heroic act. His men 
 surrounded the place where the forty boys and girls were meeting 
 to decide upon the distribution of the food, marched them all out 
 to a field near the town, and executed them like dogs, without 
 any question or consideration. 
 
 Upon hearing this story, I hurried back to the office and con' 
 fronted Mr. Zuckerman. 
 
 "I want you to speak to me like a man," I said, "and forget 
 about the bourgeois, and political questions. What happened 
 there?" 
 
 He was obviously greatly distressed. "I am sorry that I didn't 
 tell you about it before," he said. "All I know is that they were 
 all killed." 
 
 This calamity, of course, created a scandal, and the Jewish 
 and Polish papers carried headlines about it for several days. The 
 Jewish papers called it a plain and simple massacre of innocent 
 boys and girls; while the Polish papers insisted it was a proper 
 penalty paid to a group of "Bolsheviks" who were conspiring 
 against Poland. It was a very regrettable and unfortunate occur' 
 rence, which could have been avoided. 
 
 Proceeding with my own work, I secured from the secretary 
 of the Jewish relief organisation in Warsaw an estimate of how 
 much would be needed to provide the poor with matsos, and 
 
WAR RELIEF 329 
 
 other necessities. I gave him a check for the specified amount, 
 with the understanding that if it did not prove sufficient, I would 
 give him additional funds. On the other hand, if there was a 
 surplus, it was to be returned to us. 
 
 When these arrangements were made, and I was again free, 
 I decided to carry out my plan upon which I had determined a 
 few weeks before; that is, to travel independently outside of 
 Warsaw, without the knowledge of the other members of the 
 committee, and see for myself what was going on, since it was so 
 difficult for us to work in co-operation. I had already previously 
 secured proper credentials from the authorities, and had taken 
 with me a Jewish young man, a native of Warsaw, who was to 
 accompany me, procuring for him a special passport. 
 
 We set out, and visited first several small towns situated three 
 or four hours' ride from Warsaw. In some of these villages, we 
 found that about two-thirds of the houses had been wrecked by 
 bombardment during the war; that food was so scarce that in 
 some places it could not be purchased at all, and if any was 
 available, exorbitant prices had to be paid. Many of the people 
 were living in rude shelters, practically exposed to the elements. 
 Most of them were ill, because of insufficient nourishment and 
 unsanitary conditions. 
 
 In one of the towns, called Ostrolenko, a soup kitchen had 
 been established. Here the starving inhabitants were able to secure 
 one plate of soup a day. I happened to pass the place as the plates 
 were being handed out through a wicket. A long line waited in 
 front. Noticing that the wicket was about to be closed, some of 
 the women in the rear of the line cried out desperately: 
 
 "Please keep the door open, and do not close it while we are 
 still waiting for our food!" 
 
 I was reminded, by this scene, of the traditional prayer chanted 
 during the "Neilah" services on Yom Kippur, toward evening, 
 
330 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 when the congregation prays to God to keep the gate of heaven 
 open and not to close it while their prayers are still ascending. 
 
 On my return home, I related this incident to Dr. Hirsch, and 
 he was so taken with my apt comparison, that he repeated it in 
 several of his speeches. 
 
 Afterward, when the Hitler regime caused thousands of Ger 
 man Jews to look to Palestine as their only refuge, I had occasion 
 to use this same illustration at a Zionist gathering. 
 
 "As in the 'Neilah 1 prayer," I said, "these poor German refu' 
 gees are praying that the gates of Palestine be kept open, as they 
 are about to be closed, so that they may enter that sanctuary." 
 
 In that same village of Ostrolenko, I found a woman and four 
 children living in part of an old barn. One of the children had 
 been stricken with pneumonia and was dying. It turned out that 
 they were Americans, who had left New York before the war to 
 visit the "old country," and had been stranded during the war. 
 The woman told me her name was Bertha Grossman. I gave them 
 what help I could, and when I returned to New York, made in' 
 quiries as to the whereabouts of the husband and father. My 
 daughter'in'law, Lee, accompanied me on this quest. We found 
 that he had suffered a nervous breakdown as a result of anxiety 
 over his wife and children, from whom he had not heard in many 
 years, and was confined to an institution. His family was brought 
 to America, and when he was made to realize that they were safe 
 and sound, and they were brought to see him, he gradually re 
 covered, and was soon returned to health. 
 
 Some time later I received a letter from Mrs. Grossman, saying 
 that she would be very happy if I would come to see her and her 
 family the next time I was in New York. I made it a point to do 
 so on one of my trips to that city. When I arrived at the address 
 she gave me, I sent word up that a Mr. Horwich wanted to see 
 her. What was my embarrassment when she came out to greet 
 me, and threw her arms around me, crying, "My saviour! My 
 
WAR RELIEF 331 
 
 saviour!" oblivious to the crowd that gathered in the street 
 
 about us. 
 
 * * * 
 
 I spent several days in Bialystok, a large city with a numerous 
 Jewish population. One evening, while there, I went to visit the 
 brother of a man I knew in Chicago, and hired a Jewish cabman 
 to drive me back to the hotel. I did not know, and the man did 
 not tell me, that because of the existing unstable conditions, there 
 was a curfew law in effect, prohibiting riding in the streets after 
 ten o'clock in the evening. While driving along, I suddenly heard 
 shouting, and looking out I saw two uniformed men on each side 
 of the cab, with revolvers in their hands. They were calling to 
 the cabman to stop. I told him to do so, but he refused and went 
 right on, until they caught up with him. They took hold of the 
 horse and dragged the driver from his seat. One of the men put 
 a revolver to his face, and asked his companion, "Shall I fire?" 
 
 I rapidly spoke to them in English, begging them not to shoot. 
 They conferred for a moment in Polish, and I was able to under' 
 stand part of what they said. It seems that the driver insisted that 
 his passenger, an American, had instructed him not to stop, but 
 to go on. They turned to me, and I told them, in German, that 
 I had not been aware of the curfew law, apologised and gave 
 them some cigarettes. They came along with us to the hotel, 
 where they released me, but started to take the cabman with 
 them. It was only through the intercession of the manager of the 
 hotel, who was a responsible appearing woman, that they agreed 
 to let him go. She persuaded them with the aid of some drinks 
 and sandwiches. 
 
 When I first came to Bialystok, I went at once to police head' 
 quarters, showed them my passport and my papers, and told them 
 my mission. I must say that they treated me in a most courteous 
 manner, and even offered to send a man along with me, if neces' 
 sary, assuring me of their help and co-operation. 
 
332 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 A few days later, I received a visit from a committee of four 
 Rabbis, regarding some trouble which had occurred in Wilno, one 
 of the largest cities in what was then Lithuania. A violent dis' 
 pute, it seems, was then in progress between Poland and Lithu- 
 ania as to which country the city of Wilno belonged to, and 
 because of this disturbed state of affairs, the Polish authorities 
 had arrested about thirtysix of the most prominent Jews of 
 Wilno. The arrests had been made at midnight, and some of the 
 men were taken from their beds, brought to Bialystok and placed 
 in jail. The Rabbis wanted to know if I could do anything to 
 help them. 
 
 Our instructions, which we had from New York, were that we 
 were to concern ourselves only with helping the poor and the 
 hungry, and were not to interfere in any political matters. I there' 
 fore informed my visitors that since this was a political matter, 
 I was not permitted to interfere, but assured them that I would, 
 nevertheless, see if anything could be done. 
 
 I asked the Rabbis to give me the names of the imprisoned men, 
 and taking this list with me, I went to see the same authorities 
 to whom I had reported on my arrival in Bialystok. I asked them 
 to allow me to talk to the prisoners, but this they politely refused 
 to do. However, they promised to examine into the matter at once, 
 and stated that if they found the men had been arrested without 
 grounds, they would be released. I explained that the prisoners 
 were all responsible business and professional men; that the arrest 
 had been a bad mistake, since Poland could not afford to have 
 the American papers play it up, and they, therefore, ought to 
 take action at once. I especially stressed the importance of their 
 seeing to it that the men were treated well and provided with 
 proper food and clothing, as some of them had been taken from 
 their homes half 'dressed. The officials assured me that this would 
 be done. 
 
WAR RELIEF 333 
 
 I then communicated with one of the representatives of the 
 United States Government in Warsaw, whose name, if I remem- 
 ber correctly, was Lieutenant Foster, and urged him to intercede. 
 The result of my endeavors was that the men were released two 
 days later, and I received a letter of thanks from the committee 
 of Rabbis who had sought my aid. 
 
 During this trip, I discovered that the majority of the dis- 
 tressed people had friends or relatives in America, from whom 
 help would be forthcoming if they could communicate with them. 
 Communication, at that time, between Poland and other eastern 
 European countries and the United States was most difficult and 
 unreliable. It took even cables five or six days to be delivered, 
 and in many instances they were not delivered at all. 
 
 After considering the problem from all angles, I decided tc 
 insert a notice in the local Jewish papers, advising that all those 
 who had relatives or friends in the United States, who might help 
 them, should publish the names and addresses of the latter in 
 either of two Jewish papers in Warsaw, which I specified. I 
 stated that I would remain in Bialystok for two days, for the 
 purpose of receiving the names and addresses of those desiring 
 help and the names and addresses of those they wished to contact, 
 in America, and would try to prevail upon the American Gov- 
 ernment to assist in delivering letters and notifying relatives. 
 
 During those two days, hundreds of people came to me, with 
 their stories, and their addresses. Among them was a man who 
 told me that he had a daughter in America, who was a singer. 
 He did not know by what name she was known there, but stated 
 that her first name was "Raisel." I realised at once that he was 
 referring to Rosa Raisa. When I told him how famous she was, 
 he was the proudest and happiest man I met during all my 
 travels. I went to visit him at his home, where I saw pictures of 
 his daughter, and left him some money. Through the Jewish 
 press in Chicago, Rosa Raisa was notified, and she immediately 
 
334 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 arranged to send her father a considerable sum of money, later 
 bringing her family over to New York. 
 
 About a week later, when I returned to Warsaw, I found that 
 Dr. Bogan and the others had also returned from their respective 
 trips. Upon telling Dr. Bogan how I had handled the "mat^o" 
 situation, he almost went wild and criticised me severely. He 
 contended that the money I gave to the organization would be 
 lost; that no matter how much money they might have left over, 
 I would never receive a cent back. It turned out he was wrong. 
 We found that all the people entitled thereto had received money 
 and were well satisfied; and after all expenses of distribution 
 were deducted, I received a check for a substantial amount that 
 was left over. 
 
 During my stay in Poland, I observed that there was a good 
 deal of friction between the Poles and the Jews. One of the rea' 
 sons for this, it seemed to me, was the continuous preaching about 
 democracy and self-determination of the people and about 
 minority rights, a great deal of which was misunderstood and 
 mis-used. The newspapers especially took advantage of their 
 opportunity to express themselves freely, and on the slightest 
 provocation, the Polish and Yiddish newspapers carried screaming 
 headlines, denouncing each other. When Germany occupied 
 Poland, during the war, she showed preference to the Jews, 
 largely because they were able to speak or understand German. 
 Most of the political offices created by the occupation were given 
 to Jews. This caused a great deal of jealousy and unfriendliness 
 towards the Jews on the part of the Poles. 
 
 Soon after the war, when the Germans left and Poland 
 became an independent country with its own government, the 
 Jews lost their prestige, and the new Polish bureaucracy assumed 
 an unfriendly attitude toward them. 
 
WAR RELIEF ^ 335 
 
 A few weeks before I left Warsaw, I had occasion to attend 
 a meeting of Jewish newspapermen, and expressed my opinion as 
 to how they might avoid some of these difficulties. I suggested 
 that they stop magnifying and exaggerating small wrongs, and 
 write strong articles advising the Jews, especially Jewish represent 
 tatives of labor unions, that they should acknowledge the fact that 
 they now had a Polish government, and do their utmost to create 
 harmony and friendship between them, instead of fostering enmity 
 and encouraging friction. 
 
 I was especially outspoken, on this occasion, against the leaders 
 of labor unions and the radical element, and mentioned in this 
 connection the attitude of my friend, Mr. Zuckerman. I related 
 how when he saw me stop to talk or give money to some poor, 
 hungry person, Jew or non-Jew, he would quarrel with me and 
 upbraid me, illustrating my point with a specific case. I related 
 how one morning Mr. Zuckerman and I encountered a wretched, 
 starved'looking woman, with a child in her arms, both shivering 
 from cold, and crying. I stopped and gave the woman a clean 
 handkerchief to wipe their tears, gave her enough money for two 
 days' food, insisting that she go at once to a restaurant nearby 
 and procure a good, warm breakfast for herself and her baby, 
 and took her address for our office files. Mr. Zuckerman strongly 
 disapproved of all this, and reproached me angrily, shouting: 
 "You capitalists! You create the poor people — you are respon' 
 sible for the condition of the poor, and in order to ease your 
 conscience, you give some unfortunate a little nothing on the 
 street and think you are doing your duty." 
 
 When I asked him what else he would do in such a case, he 
 argued that we were not dealing with individuals, but with prin- 
 ciples. "You have to do away with capitalism and with profit so 
 that there will be no poor and no millionaires," he would say. 
 
 Months later, when I spoke at a massmeeting in Chicago, held 
 on behalf of the war sufferers, I mentioned Mr. Zuckerman's 
 
336 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 charges against me and remarked, jokingly, that his accusation 
 was unfounded, since I was a capitalist without capital. 
 
 My above-mentioned talk to the newspapermen of Warsaw on 
 loyalty to the Polish government made a deep impression upon 
 them. Dr. Bogan, who usually disagreed with me, this time came 
 over and congratulated me. He apologized for having misunder- 
 stood me, and said he now realised that what I was trying to do 
 
 was right. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Among the interesting experiences I had in Warsaw, was one 
 that was particularly striking. Early one morning, I was awakened 
 at my hotel with the information that a little boy was waiting 
 downstairs and insisted on seeing me. The hotel employees had 
 tried to chase him away, but he refused to go, and they did not 
 know what to do with him. I instructed them to send him up in 
 about half an hour. 
 
 When he came up, I saw that he was about fourteen years old. 
 He told me his name was Abram Leshovitsky, and that it had 
 taken him eight days, walking and hitch-hiking, to get to Warsaw 
 from his town. There were four other children at home, he said, 
 three boys and a girl. His mother had died of starvation, and his 
 father was somewhere in New York. Having heard that we were 
 there to help the poor, he had come to report himself as one of 
 them, and wanted to know what we could do for them. I inquired 
 as to where he had spent the night, and he said he had slept in a 
 Jewish home about five miles outside of Warsaw, and had risen 
 about four o'clock that morning, and come directly to my hotel. 
 
 Before questioning him any further, I invited him to have 
 breakfast with me, and asked him what he would like. "Bread 
 and tea," he replied. When I suggested eggs or oatmeal, he opened 
 his eyes in wide surprise. I took him to breakfast and ordered 
 cereal, eggs, tea, sugar and cream for him, and when the food 
 was brought, and he began to eat, I had to turn my head away to 
 
WAR RELIEF 337 
 
 hide my tears at the sight. He ate like a hungry little animal that 
 had not had food for a long time. 
 
 When he finished, I talked things over with him. I suggested 
 that instead of his asking me what we could do for him, he should 
 tell me what he would like us to do. 
 
 "First of all," he said, "I have a letter addressed to my father, 
 written by me, in Yiddish. I want you to see that it reaches him 
 as soon as possible." If mailing it was impractical, he said, he 
 would like me to keep it with me until I returned to New York. 
 He gave me the letter to read, and called my attention to the part 
 where he had written, "Mother took sick and died." He did not 
 want to mention that her death was caused by starvation, as it 
 would be too great a shock for his father, and cautioned me 
 against telling his father the truth. 
 
 The boy's second request was that we give him food rather 
 than money. 
 
 "I understand," he said, "that you have flour and milk, and 
 that is what I want." 
 
 "Why not money?" I asked. 
 
 "No matter how much money you give us," he replied wisely, 
 "it will not last very long, and the children will again have 
 nothing to eat. If you give me enough flour and milk and oil, and 
 have it sent to my home, I will start a little business with it. One 
 of the girls has to have shoes, so I will sell something and buy 
 her shoes. The other one has to have a coat — she can't go out, 
 as she is half'dressed. I will do the same for her. Whatever I sell 
 will make me a little money, and in that way I will try 
 to keep up." 
 
 His sense of responsibility, for one so young, surprised me. I 
 made a note of everything he said, and instructed him to come 
 to our office, where his wants would be taken care of. It was 
 sweet and amusing to hear the child refer to his brothers and 
 sisters as "my children," never using the term, "brothers" or 
 
338 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 4 sisters." We bought the boy some clothes and saw to it that 
 he was sent home properly and was taken care of. As the mails 
 were uncertain, I kept his letter to his father with me, intending 
 to deliver it personally on my return to New York. 
 
 On the day I returned, a luncheon was given for me by the 
 board of directors of the Central Relief Committee. It was a 
 semi-public affair, to which anyone interested was welcome to 
 come. In relating my experiences abroad, I spoke about this boy, 
 and even read the letter addressed to his father. Suddenly a voice 
 in the audience shouted: "That is my child!" The man who had 
 thus cried out had risen excitedly to his feet, then he swayed for 
 a moment, and fell back weakly into his chair. 
 
 One of the newspapermen present told me later that no one 
 would believe such a thing could happen in real life. It was exactly 
 like a scene on the stage. My daughter-in-law was present when 
 this dramatic incident occurred, and she felt the same way about 
 it, as did many others. 
 
 Three months later, in October, 1919, Abram and "his chil- 
 dren" arrived in New York to join their father. Their pictures 
 and an article describing the episode appeared in a New York 
 newspaper on October 28, 1919, and many other papers carried 
 accounts of this unusual case. 
 
 Several other experiences I had in Warsaw might prove inter- 
 esting. One evening, while eating in a restaurant, I saw the face 
 of a little child, her nose pressed against the window. Hearing 
 one of the waiters tell another, "Go and chase that beggar away," 
 I rose and went with him. When the child saw us coming, she 
 began to run, and cried: "I only wanted to ask for a piece of 
 bread!" I spoke to her in Yiddish, and asked her to come back 
 with me and I would give her something to eat. 
 
 She was a little girl about eight years of age, and she was 
 shaking with fear, cold and hunger. I took her inside, and asked 
 the proprietor to build a little fire in the stove so that she might 
 
WAR RELIEF 339 
 
 warm herself. He refused, however, saying he could not spare the 
 wood. I thereupon took a chair that was standing in the corner, 
 broke it up and demanded he use it to start a fire, advising him 
 that I would pay for the chair. I said nothing more to the child, 
 but just gave her food. It is painful to describe how she ate it. 
 
 After finishing her meal, she told me that she lived with her 
 grandmother in a cellar, and all they had was what she got from 
 begging. Her grandmother could not go out, she told me, being 
 too old and sick. I hired a cab and took the child home. I was 
 horrified at sight of the place. They lived in a deep cellar, without 
 air, heat or light, except for a flickering little candle. I saw to it 
 that the old woman and child were placed where they could 
 receive medical attention and other care. 
 
 Another experience, in a lighter vein, took place one day while 
 I was out riding in a cab. I might remark here that the horses in 
 Poland were then just as hungry as the people, and could not go 
 very fast, but dragged along slowly. As we were proceeding at 
 this pace, a little girl about nine years old jumped up on the step 
 of the cab and greeted me in Yiddish. When I asked her what she 
 wanted, she said: 
 
 "Well, I see you are an American, so I think you ought to give 
 me a dollar. " (She pronounced it "doolar") 
 
 I lifted her into the cab, and said to her, in Yiddish: "You 
 made a mistake. I am not an American, and therefore I cannot 
 give you a 'dcclarY' 
 
 She looked at me doubtfully, then took hold of my coat lapel 
 and felt the quality of the cloth. 
 
 "This cloth is not Polish," she said. "You are an American, 
 and you ought to give me a dollar. " She insisted that was all she 
 wanted, and I would make her happy by giving it to her. 
 
 I thereupon gave her a dollar in paper money, and a half dollar 
 in silver. At this, she looked at me with her prettiest smile, and 
 pleaded: 
 
340 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "Why split it? Why do you make it a dollar and a half? Make 
 it two whole dollars, and this will be a great day for me and my 
 mother." 
 
 I added another dollar, making it two and a half dollars in all, 
 and just to see what she would say, asked her for the return of 
 the first half dollar, as change. Grabbing my hand and kissing it, 
 she retorted: 
 
 "You rich American want to take money back from me? I 
 know you do not mean it!" And she jumped out and ran off, 
 calling back, "God should bless you!" 
 
 I received one day a visit from a unique individual, a well 
 known Chassidic Rabbi of that region, whose appearance was 
 quite astonishing. He stood about six and a half feet tall, and was 
 very erect and well proportioned. He wore a blond beard that 
 reached down to his waist, his blond hair flowed over his shoul' 
 ders, and his sideburns hung down like ropes, almost to his knees. 
 He had blue eyes and well chiselled features. His appearance was 
 actually awe-inspiring, and I was told that when he entered the 
 hotel, the boys at the desk were frightened — they thought it was 
 Jesus. They had been instructed not to permit anyone to come 
 up to my room without announcing him, but when they saw 
 this amazing person, they asked no questions. They simply bowed, 
 and showed him the way to my room. When I opened my door 
 in answer to their knock, I was so surprised and taken aback at 
 the unexpected sight, that it was several seconds before I re' 
 covered sufficiently to greet the Rabbi and ask him to enter. 
 
 He shook hands with me, and informed me that he was a 
 Chassidic Rabbi and had come to see me to secure money to 
 provide kosher food and matsos for the Jewish Polish soldiers 
 for the Passover. I asked him to be seated, so that we could dis' 
 cuss the matter. There were two chairs in my room, one of which 
 was too small for him. The other, though wide enough, was very 
 
WAR RELIEF 341 
 
 low. I suggested that he make his choice of the chairs or the bed, 
 and he chose the low chair. 
 
 We had been talking about twenty minutes, trying to deter' 
 mine how much money would be needed for his purpose, when 
 an American newspaperman of my acquaintance, Mr. Tobias 
 Tobankin, came in. I introduced him to the Rabbi, and he entered 
 into our discussion concerning kosher food for the Jewish soldiers. 
 It was his opinion, he said, that since the Jewish soldiers were 
 being fed by the government, it would be unjust to supply them 
 with kosher food, at the expense of the poor people, who had no 
 government food; that the soldiers could get along on "Pesach" 
 with the same food they had every day. 
 
 At this, the Rabbi looked Mr. Tobankin straight in the eyes 
 for a few seconds, and then started slowly to rise. Mr. Tobankin 
 was a very short fellow, and as he watched the Rabbi rising 
 slowly from his very low chair, he thought, as he afterwards told 
 me, that there would be no end to the Rabbi. Towering over the 
 little newspaperman, the Rabbi shouted at him dramatically: 
 
 "You advise that Jews should eat leavened bread and 'traife' 
 food on Pesach! Do you know what that means, according to the 
 Jewish religion? It means death for you!" 
 
 I saw poor Mr. Tobankin tremble under the stare of that huge 
 figure, and I came to his defense by explaining to the Rabbi that 
 American young men were not aware of the strictness of the 
 Jewish laws, and that he should forgive him, which he did. 
 
 Mr. Tobankin later whispered to me that if it were possible to 
 get a picture of the Rabbi, it would be of great interest and 
 wonder to the Jews in America. After he left, I made this sug- 
 gestion to the Rabbi, but after a moment of silence, he shook his 
 head. I then offered him fifty dollars, to be donated to any charity 
 he chose, if he would consent to being photographed, but again 
 he shook his head. I raised my offer to one hundred dollars, but 
 he answered: 
 
342 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "My friend, I know you mean well, and God bless you for it, 
 but neither you nor anyone else can buy a picture of me, for the 
 purpose of displaying it." 
 
 With that we parted, and I made the necessary arrangements 
 to furnish kosher food and matsos to the Jewish soldiers. 
 
 * * * 
 
 While walking along the street one day, I met a Jewish army 
 doctor whom I knew, wearing his official uniform. I told him I 
 was on my way to confer with a committee of Rabbis concerning 
 a certain district of Warsaw which they felt was not receiving 
 sufficient aid, and invited him to come with me. We found six 
 Rabbis at the appointed place, all of whom had fine faces, but 
 were heavily bearded and wore long garments and funny looking 
 hats. I introduced my friend, and we began to talk about the 
 matter in hand. 
 
 The doctor, however, interrupted us, to deliver a little lecture 
 to the Rabbis. The Jews of the world, he said, were suffering 
 because of the people among them who dressed and acted as 
 they did. 
 
 "You do not belong in a civilised world," he cried, "and it is 
 no wonder that Jews are being mistreated and degraded when 
 they have representatives like you. You ought to be ashamed of 
 yourselves. You ought to throw away these rags, and appear like 
 men. Now you look like wild animals." 
 
 I was greatly embarrassed at this outburst, but the Rabbis 
 merely smiled, and one of them said: 
 
 "My dear doctor, you are a Jew and I am a Jew. Clothes and 
 appearance are not going to change that fact. In America, doctors 
 wear clothes of your type, while in Poland the Rabbis wear 
 clothes like those we have on. It is apparent from your outburst 
 that you are not only angry with us, but also with yourself. 
 I know you are sorry that you are a Jew. But that won't help 
 you. 
 
WAR RELIEF 343 
 
 "Remember that the Jewish people are like the earth — you 
 trample on it, you spit on it, you kick it! But do you know what 
 the earth contains? It contains all kinds of gold and silver, all 
 kinds of minerals, and all kinds of food. Everything that a human 
 being has comes from the earth. Without it, you could not live. 
 All that is good in the world comes from the earth. The civilize 
 tion that you speak of comes from the Jews. Wherever you turn, 
 you will find that to become a doctor or a philosopher, you have 
 to seek your sources of learning from the Jews. 
 
 "And now, my dear doctor, I thank you for the lecture you 
 have given us, and we would like to continue our talk with this 
 gentleman about securing food and clothing for the hungry and 
 the poor." 
 
 The embarrassed doctor left without saying a word. I tried to 
 explain that it was really not his fault — that he had been brought 
 up in a different environment and a different country. 
 
 "I believe that he is an exceptional person," said one of the 
 Rabbis. "A man of that type is very seldom found." 
 
 "In what respect do you mean? 1 ' 1 I asked. 
 
 "Well," said he, "it is very seldom that you find a doctor, an 
 educated man, an American, wearing a uniform, and a Jew, who 
 is yet such a 'shayteh' (idiot)." 
 
 One of the Rabbis then turned to me, and said: "I want you 
 to know, you Americans are running a race here with the Angel 
 of Death. We can tell by our records which of you is ahead. 
 When you continue to send us food and money, you are in the 
 lead, and there are fewer funerals among us. But when you 
 slacken in this work, the Dread Destroyer outdistances you, as 
 is evidenced by the increase in funerals." 
 
 In my report later, at a meeting in New York, I repeated the 
 Rabbi's words. Thereafter, the story of the race between Amer- 
 
344 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 ican money and the Angel of Death was frequently used in 
 soliciting funds. 
 
 While in New York, before I left for Europe, I had received 
 a letter from a business acquaintance, Mr. David Friedlander, 
 informing me that he had a sister by the name of Marila Fried' 
 lander, somewhere in Warsaw. He asked me to try to find her, 
 and if possible, bring her with me on my return to America. 
 
 I made inquiries and located the girl. She was living in a small, 
 cold room, with her stepmother, and was trying to earn a living 
 by giving piano lessons. She was happy to hear from her brother, 
 and arrangements were made for her to accompany me on my 
 return journey. 
 
 Through Miss Friedlander, I became acquainted with her step' 
 brother, Max Grundhand, a highly intelligent young man, though 
 very poor. In order to help him out, I asked him to act as my 
 interpreter and as my companion, whenever necessary. I also 
 assigned to him the task of making inquiries about my oldest 
 brother and his family, who lived in Woronowo. We had not 
 heard from them during the war, and though we sent them money 
 at various times, we never knew whether or not it reached them. 
 I assured him that I would see he was well taken care of, if he 
 could arrange to get through to them. After some consideration, 
 he informed me that he was willing to undertake the journey to 
 Woronowo, and would either bring my brother back with him to 
 Warsaw, or bring word from him. 
 
 I cautioned young Grundhand to be careful to secure the 
 proper documents from the civil and military authorities, and 
 aided him in securing his passport and traveling permit. However, 
 since I was not acquainted with conditions in the section to 
 which he was going, I had to inform him that I could assume no 
 responsibility, and he would have to go at his own risk. He was 
 willing to do so, and left shortly afterward. 
 
WAR RELIEF 345 
 
 Some three weeks later, I received one of the greatest surprises 
 of my life. Answering a knock on my door about six o'clock one 
 morning, I opened it, to find standing before me young Grund' 
 hand, my brother Aron, and his daughter, Rhea. All three were 
 haggard, pale and hungry-looking, and their clothes were wrinkled 
 and shabby. The only words Grundhand could say were: "Here 
 are your brother and his daughter. I have to leave. I will see you 
 tomorrow." 
 
 My brother was so weak that he could hardly speak. I at once 
 took him and his daughter to a nearby hotel, as there was no 
 room for them where I stayed. I ordered a substantial breakfast 
 for them, consisting of cereal, eggs, rolls and butter. When he 
 saw the food, the tears rolled down my brother's face, and he 
 said he had not seen such food for years. He felt he ought not 
 to sit there eating it, when his wife and children at home were 
 living on synthetic bread and oatmeal, and tea without sugar 
 or milk. 
 
 He described how, without actually being on the battlefield, 
 he and his family had suffered all the horrors of war. Before the 
 Russians entered their town, he related, he had hidden all his 
 metal dishes, his cdpper and brass utensils and silverware, in a pit 
 which he dug in the rear of his house. It seems that someone saw 
 him, and when the Russians marched into the town, the com- 
 mander of the troops was informed. They opened the pit, took 
 everything they found there, and arrested him, and took him 
 with them. He was informed that he would be given a trial the 
 next day, and would be shot. He was charged with hiding these 
 precious metals for the use of the Germans. As luck would have 
 it, the German troops were then advancing toward the town, and 
 the Russians retreated before them, leaving my brother to be 
 taken over by the Germans, who released him. Aron attributed 
 this fortunate occurrence to our father in heaven, and insisted 
 that he had interceded for him. 
 
346 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 For the next three days, he and his daughter told me of their 
 experiences during the four and a half years of the war. Under 
 the German occupation, they said, they were treated quite well, 
 and their chief trouble was getting food. What small quantities 
 they were able to secure was of the poorest kind. They had just 
 barely enough to keep alive. 
 
 It was difficult, too, for the townspeople to become accustomed 
 to the discipline imposed by the Germans, and their amazing 
 efficiency. Every few days, inspectors would go through the 
 houses to see that the floors were scrubbed, the windows cleaned, 
 and everything in order. My brother did not have it so bad, at 
 that time, as two officers were quartered in his house, and most 
 of the necessary work was done by the soldiers. 
 
 From the first day they came until they left, he said, the Ger" 
 mans were busy making improvements in the town. The streets 
 were paved, the houses supplied with running water, telephones 
 and electric lights were installed, and schools opened for the 
 purpose of teaching German to the children. Every few weeks, 
 the officials would give parties that were free to all, and at these 
 affairs they would speak to the townspeople, in an effort to win 
 them over. They urged friendship toward the Germans, stating 
 that they intended to remain there for good, and that everybody 
 would be happy. They looked after the health of the people, and 
 gave them medical care. Still, the inhabitants suffered through 
 lack of sufficient nourishment. 
 
 After a few days, when young Grundhand had recuperated 
 from his experience, he gave me details concerning his trip. It 
 had taken him a couple of weeks to make the journey from War" 
 saw to Woronowo, which should ordinarily have taken only about 
 twentyfour hours, and at one time he came near being shot. He 
 described how my brother and his family had started to cry with 
 happiness when he had appeared at their door and told them he 
 was sent by me, and that I was in Warsaw. They had been 
 
WAR RELIEF 347 
 
 sitting around the table, wondering how they would procure food 
 
 for the coming Passover, and feeling very hopeless. They could 
 
 hardly believe that what Mr. Grundhand told them was true, 
 
 until he showed them a letter from me. 
 
 My brother and his daughter remained with me for three 
 
 months, until they had fully recovered from the experiences they 
 
 had undergone during the war. I then secured the necessary docu' 
 
 ments to enable them to make their return trip safely, and sent 
 
 them back home with the assurance that they would be well 
 
 taken care of. 
 
 * * * 
 
 I now made preparations for my return to America, experienc- 
 ing some difficulty in securing the necessary papers for Miss 
 Marila Friedlander, who was to come with me. However, this 
 was finally arranged, and we left as planned. 
 
 On the way, we stopped for a few days in Paris. The Versailles 
 Treaty was then being negotiated, and several times I saw Presi' 
 dent Wilson riding through the streets, with escorts preceding 
 and following him. I also met the committee of Jews that had 
 been sent to plead in the interests of Jewish minority rights in all 
 countries, among the members of this committee being Louis 
 Marshall, Dr. Cyrus Adler and Judge Julian W. Mack. 
 
 I had several conversations with Mr. Marshall, in which I told 
 him what I had learned of the plight of the Jews in Poland, and 
 urged the importance of raising money for relief. He, on the other 
 hand, described what his committee was accomplishing in securing 
 minority rights for Jews in European countries. 
 
 During my stay in Paris, I visited one of the cemeteries, where 
 World War soldiers were buried. I counted six Jewish names 
 among seventy-five graves, and these names were engraved on 
 crosses, like the others. I took this matter up as soon as I arrived 
 in New York, and several weeks later received the information 
 that the crosses had been replaced by "Mogen Dovids." 
 
348 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 At that time Paris was the happiest place in the world. France 
 went wild with joy of victory, and was preparing to join her 
 allies in the division of the spoils from the defeated Germany. 
 There was happiness on the face of every Frenchman. Happy, 
 too, were the American soldiers, who had come to Paris from 
 the battlefields, eager to enjoy themselves to the full after their 
 harrowing experiences. 
 
 As I later told my audiences in America, if they wanted to see 
 truly representative Americans, they could have found them 
 among these American soldiers in Paris. The Frenchmen, as a 
 nation, are rather dark and short. In strong contrast to them were 
 our American soldiers, especially those who came from the farms 
 and small towns. Like the English soldiers, they were tall and 
 erect, most of them good'looking, and all very courteous. It was 
 a great pleasure to me, while in Paris, to meet and speak to them, 
 and spend time with them. Quite often I would stop an American 
 soldier or officer on the street and ask for a cigaret, just to make 
 conversation. If he had one, he never hesitated a second in 
 offering it. 
 
 After obtaining the necessary papers, Miss Friedlander and I 
 proceeded to Vienna. If I thought I had seen misery in Poland, 
 I really saw it in Vienna, the city that had once been such a 
 pleasant place to visit. The people had no proper food of any 
 kind, living on synthetic bread and coffee. They had no fats, 
 no meats, and no sweets except saccharine. An American 
 Colonel whom I met at the hotel remarked to me that if ever a 
 people had reached the highest state of civilisation and were 
 deserving of friendliness and kindness, it was those poor people 
 of Austria, and especially of Vienna. I had taken enough food 
 with me from Paris to last us for a few days, but disposed of 
 most of it to people who were starving. 
 
 One day I went into a restaurant and ordered coffee. All they 
 could give me, they said, was black, imitation coffee, and nothing 
 
WAR RELIEF 349 
 
 else. I was interested to see how this synthetic coffee tasted, and 
 ordered a cup. An important-looking man came in and sat down 
 at my table. Also ordering coffee, he took out of his pocket and 
 unwrapped two sandwiches, which proved to be bread and 
 cheese. When he saw me drinking the coffee, with nothing to 
 accompany it, he offered me one of his sandwiches. Of course, I 
 refused to take it, informing him that I had food at home. I 
 learned to my surprise, upon conversing further with him, that 
 he was a Jew, although he did not appear to be one. He told me 
 his story, how he had been a dealer and exporter of silks, but 
 now, of course, was ruined. 
 
 I learned that there were thousands of Jewish refugees in and 
 around Vienna, without home or country. The Vienna branch 
 of the American Joint Distribution Committee of the United 
 States, headed by Mrs. Anita Miller, was caring for them as 
 best they could. Most of the people were living in freight cars. 
 I went out to see them, and counted one string of fifteen cars 
 with eighteen or twenty people huddled in each one. Mrs. Miller 
 and her sister had arranged to feed these unfortunate souls with 
 bread, soup and potatoes once or twice a day. 
 
 My attention was drawn to a man with a long beard, who was 
 sitting in mourning for his wife, who had died the day before. 
 He was trying to teach the Kaddish (prayer in memory of the 
 dead) to a little boy beside him. I approached him, and inquired 
 how he had come to be there, and he replied, in both sorrow 
 and anger: 
 
 "While the great nations are dividing the world among them' 
 selves, they have forgotten about us. First we were Austrians, 
 then we were Poles. Now the Poles say that we belong to 
 Slovakia, and Slovakia says that we belong to Poland. So we 
 have to live here and wait until your great president and the other 
 leaders of the world decide what is to become of us." 
 
350 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 It was sad for me to realise from these experiences of what 
 little value are human beings in time of war, and what little 
 interest nations have in the sufferings of individuals. What a 
 terrible crime it is for people to wage war, one against the other, 
 and have less regard for human suffering than for that of wild 
 beasts! 
 
 When we prepared to embark on our steamer, the S. S. La 
 Savoy, for America, we found that her crew had declared a strike, 
 and we had to wait around at the port for several days. When we 
 finally sailed, we found that about six hundred American soldiers 
 were also returning on that boat. They made things quite lively, 
 and the trip was not bad. 
 
 However, my ward, who was a very intelligent and accom' 
 plished young girl, was very discontented, and was often difficult 
 to deal with. Among other things, she complained at having to 
 share her stateroom with another woman, wishing to be by hep 
 self; and was always late in coming to meals. 
 
 Two days before landing, the captain gave a dinner and 
 arranged a gala evening of entertainment. Some of the ship's 
 officers had heard Miss Friedlander play the piano, upon which 
 instrument she was an accomplished performer, and asked me to 
 get her to play for them on that evening. She consented to do so, 
 but when the time arrived, she changed her mind and refused to 
 perform. I had to use all my powers of persuasion to get her to 
 come up and play for the waiting guests. She played so brilliantly 
 that the audience applauded her for many minutes when she 
 finished. 
 
 The Polish Consul, who was present, afterward made a speech 
 in which he extolled her performance, boasting about the talent 
 to be found in Poland. As she did not look Jewish, it was taken 
 for granted that she was a Polish girl. In spite of her tempera' 
 
 
WAR RELIEF 351 
 
 mental behavior, Marila was good company and very attractive, 
 and was much sought after. 
 
 Upon arriving in New York, I was greeted by newspapermen 
 and several friends, who were eager to hear of my experiences, 
 several of which I related to them. Among those waiting for us 
 at the pier were Marila's father, brothers and sisters. Their meet' 
 ing, which was marked by much kissing and crying, was very 
 touching. They came over and thanked me for taking care of 
 their girl, and I replied good-humoredly: "All I want of you is a 
 receipt that I have delivered the goods as per instructions." 
 
 Upon returning to Chicago, I was informed that a meeting and 
 reception had been arranged for me, to be held that very after' 
 noon. Instead of going home from the railroad station, as I would 
 have liked to do, I had to go directly to the large hall in the Chi' 
 cago Hebrew Institute, where the meeting was being held. The 
 place was filled to capacity. Presiding was Mr. S. J. Rosenblatt, 
 viccpresident of the Chicago Jewish Relief Committee, and the 
 acting chairman during my absence. 
 
 I spoke for almost an hour, relating my experiences while 
 abroad. Mr. Rosenblatt then handed me a check for $100,000.00, 
 which was part of the amount that had been raised for the war 
 sufferers while I was away. This I immediately turned over to a 
 representative of the American Joint Distribution Committee who 
 had accompanied me from New York. An additional check, in 
 the amount of $150,000.00, was later also turned over to the 
 Committee. I have in my files photographs of both of these checks. 
 
 For several months after my return, I was called upon to travel 
 about and give talks about the situation in Europe, as I had found 
 it. Other speakers on these programs were men like Judge Harry 
 M. Fisher and Mr. James Becker. The West Side and South Side 
 Jews ccoperated in this work, and together raised literally mil' 
 lions of dollars for the war sufferers. 
 
352 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 It gave me great pleasure to learn that my report on conditions 
 
 in Poland was favorably commented upon by Israel Zangwill, in 
 
 his book, "Voice of Jerusalem," which was published a year or 
 
 two later. 
 
 * * * 
 
 In the midst of these exciting times, I was grief'Stricken and 
 bowed down by the illness and death of my beloved brother, 
 Harris. I was aware that his health was not very good at this 
 period, but I had no conception of how seriously ill he was until 
 I saw him on my return from this trip. As I remarked to my 
 friends, Harris looked as bad as some of the unfortunate, starving 
 people I had seen in Europe, and I was distressed and appalled. 
 Harris realized what I felt, and exerted his best efforts to smile 
 and appear optimistic; but I knew he was a "candidate for the 
 grave." 
 
 Several months afterward, he was confined to his bed, and on 
 October 5, 1920, he left this world. 
 
 Up to about three weeks before his death, he never thought or 
 talked about dying, but always spoke of how long it would be 
 before he got well. When he later realized there was no hope, he 
 began to talk to me about it, but always spoke as though I, and 
 not he, were the sick one, whose feelings had to be spared. 
 
 One day he said to me: "You know, there is an end to every- 
 thing — there is an end to sickness and to man's life, and I have 
 reached the stage when I will have to depart from this world. I 
 have no regrets nor complaints to make. I have a fine family. 
 While I have not been a rich man, I have never been poor, and 
 I have had most of the comforts that the average man can expect. 
 Though not rich materially, I have enjoyed all the pleasure that 
 one can have intellectually ." 
 
 I could not bear such talk, and was so deeply affected that I 
 went out to wash my face so that he might not notice my tears. 
 When I returned, he spoke to me again, saying: 
 
Snapshot of Harris Horwich Ta\en Shortly Before He Passed Aw 
 
WAR RELIEF 353 
 
 "I have something on my mind to discuss with you, but before 
 I do so, I want to tell you a story I read some time ago. A dying 
 man instructed his lawyer to prepare a will for him, and during 
 the procedure, the lawyer interrupted the man frequently to give 
 him advice on various matters. Finally the sick man lost patience 
 and said to his attorney, 'See here, Mr. Lawyer, who is going to 
 die, I would like to know — you or IT 
 
 "Now," continued Harris, "I am the interested party in this 
 case, so don't interrupt me while I tell you what I want to say." 
 
 My poor brother laughed appreciatively at the conclusion of 
 his story, but, alas, I could not laugh. 
 
 "What makes you think," I asked him, "that you cannot get 
 well, and why do you talk like this?" 
 
 "You can believe me," he replied, "when I say that I know — 
 even though the doctor did not tell me." 
 
 "How?" I asked. 
 
 With a despairing expression on his face, he replied: "I cannot 
 read any more — I cannot concentrate my mind on reading — and 
 this is a sign of death." 
 
 Then he added: "I have but one complaint against my fate." 
 And he quoted from Lamentations, " 'They that are slain with 
 the sword are better than they that are slain with hunger/ " For 
 many months he had not been able to swallow any food. He was 
 dying inch by inch of starvation, and he looked it. 
 
 I sat speechless beside him, trying to think of something to say, 
 but could find no words. 
 
 But Harris kept speaking, and now he told me about a discus' 
 sion that two professors had had. They were arguing, he said, as 
 to which experienced the greatest intensity of feeling in the case 
 of a wild beast attacking and tearing to pieces a tame animal. 
 Which emotion was the stronger — the joy of the hungry beast 
 in getting something to eat, or the fright and pain of the poor 
 lamb that was being devoured? 
 
354 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "Do you think," I said, "that this is the proper time to think 
 about such things and tell them to me?" 
 
 He answered, somewhat apologetically: "All these months, 
 when you came to visit me every night, this question came to my 
 mind, and I wondered whether your feeling of distress for my 
 condition was more intense than the happiness I enjoyed in having 
 you with me." 
 
 A week before he died, he was removed to the hospital. When 
 he closed his eyes forever, his family and those about him could 
 not help but feel relieved that he was thus healed of his suffering, 
 knowing the untold agony he had endured in the last months 
 of his illness. 
 
 As I gazed upon the body of my brother, I meditated upon 
 how amazing it was that this shrunken, empty shell could have 
 contained so much wisdom, humor and intellect. 
 
 To the mourning family, I promised: "Not a day of my life 
 will pass that I will not speak his name, tell of his greatness, or 
 remember what he was to me." 
 
 Harris left a widow and six children: Morris, Anna (who 
 married H. L. Friedlen), Bessie (who married Bert Margolis), 
 Florence (who married Robert Cohen), David (who married 
 Sally Brownstein), and Edna. 
 
 A few years after Harris passed away, his widow died, and 
 within the next several years Bessie, Anna and Morris followed 
 them. Morris was wounded during the war, and after much suf' 
 fering, died in a government hospital. 
 
 Harris' children reflected the good looks and intelligence of 
 their parents. An outstanding personality is his son, David, who 
 has inherited the high intellect of his father and the modesty and 
 unassuming gentility of his mother. He has been, for some years, 
 vice president of the well known firm of Lord 6? Thomas. I was 
 proud and happy to learn from one of the heads of that organic 
 
WAR RELIEF 355 
 
 nation that they regard him very highly and consider him a 
 
 valuable asset to the firm. 
 
 * * * 
 
 The thousands of addresses I had secured in Poland from 
 people wishing to contact relatives and friends in the United 
 States, I turned over to the office of the Chicago Relief Com' 
 mittee. I assisted them in the tremendous task of notifying people 
 and answering letters of inquiry, which kept me busy for months. 
 I discovered that while the people here were anxious and willing 
 to help their relatives abroad, they were unable to transmit money 
 through reliable sources. Regular communication had not yet 
 been established, and local banks refused to assume the response 
 bility of delivering funds to people in the war-stricken countries. 
 I was besieged with requests to arrange for transmitting such 
 funds. 
 
 I took the matter up with several interested people, and after 
 some discussion it was decided that the best thing to do would 
 be to gather together the money offered for that purpose, and 
 that someone be delegated to take it with him to Europe and 
 distribute it personally. Although this was aside from the work 
 of the relief committee, we managed to gather together a large 
 sum, running into tens of thousands of dollars, and it fell upon 
 me to take these funds to Europe and distribute them as specified. 
 It proved to be a rather difficult and thankless task, but I managed 
 to do a fair job. 
 
 When I arrived in Warsaw, on this second journey, I wrote to 
 all those for whom I had funds, asking them to come and identify 
 themselves, upon which they would receive their money. 
 
 These funds were represented by letters of credit for Polish 
 marks, in the value of the American dollars. However, the state of 
 the Polish mark, which was the current unit of exchange, was 
 very unstable, and was dropping steadily in value. I encountered 
 a great deal of difficulty in this regard, and had to watch the mar" 
 
356 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 ket closely. I finally decided it would be more expedient to pay in 
 American dollars, rather than in marks, but there were no dollars 
 available for me. After considering the problem and attempting 
 various plans, I was able to make arrangements with the American 
 Consul, who was then receiving American dollars in large numbers 
 in his office, to pay me dollars against my letters of credit. Thus 
 I managed to pay the people in American money. This was con- 
 sidered quite a feat on my part, and was a boon to the people, as 
 American money was regarded as something sacred during this 
 turbulent period. 
 
 I had many interesting experiences in connection with this 
 work, one of which I particularly remember. Among those who 
 came to collect their funds, were a certain woman and her 
 daughter, who identified themselves through their passports and 
 a letter from the Rabbi of their town. After she had answered all 
 questions satisfactorily, I informed the woman that I had $400.00 
 for her. She was so surprised and overjoyed at this news, that she 
 began to tremble, and her daughter actually had to hold her up 
 to keep her from fainting. For several moments she stood mur- 
 muring over and over again, "Four hundred dollars! Four hun- 
 dred dollars !" 
 
 When she had recovered a little, she said: "So much money! 
 That is a fortune. My good husband sent it to me. How can I 
 ever be thankful enough to God for such a miracle?" 
 
 Upon her request, I advised her carefully how to handle this 
 money, explaining how she could place it in a bank and withdraw 
 small amounts as needed, and arranged to send someone with her 
 to see that she got to the bank safely. 
 
 As they were about to leave, the mother turned back to me 
 and said: "There is one favor I would like you to do for me." 
 
 "What is that?" I asked. 
 
 "I would like to have the honor of kissing your hand," she 
 replied. 
 
WAR RELIEF 357 
 
 With that she tried to grasp my hand, but I told her laugh' 
 ingly, not wanting to hurt her feelings: 
 
 "Now I see you are a woman of understanding. What pleasure 
 do you think it is for a man to have a sad'faced, hungry-looking 
 woman kiss his hand? If you really want to please me, why don't 
 you have your young daughter kiss my face, instead of you kiss' 
 ing my hand?" 
 
 The mother immediately turned to her daughter and exclaimed: 
 "You heard what this gentleman said! Why do you stand there 
 like a fool?" 
 
 The girl blushingly lifted her face to me, but I smiled and said: 
 "Never mind, I was just joking. Go home, and be blessed, and 
 God will help you, and I will tell your father how nice you both 
 are. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Before leaving, I arranged that in the future the money sent 
 from Chicago to Poland should be distributed by a Mr. H. 
 Farbstein, a deputy of the Polish Parliament, who agreed to 
 undertake this task, opening an office in Warsaw for the purpose. 
 
 I also engaged a Mr. William Zuckerman, a newspaperman 
 whom I had known in Chicago, to go to Danzig and open an 
 office there, for the distribution of funds. He later opened an 
 office in Berlin, and money was sent continuously to both places. 
 
 In the meantime, we were receiving demands for the distribu' 
 tion of funds in Roumania, and I engaged Mr. Max Grundhand, 
 whom I have mentioned previously, to establish an office in 
 Bucharest. 
 
 All these arrangements were made through the Public State 
 Bank of Chicago, of which I was the president. Although we 
 made a small charge for our work in transferring and delivering 
 money to the proper parties, we found, after three years, that 
 we were suffering considerable losses, and finally had to give it up. 
 
 The three men I engaged to open branch offices were the only 
 
358 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 ones to benefit from the venture. Mr. Farbstein is now in Pales' 
 tine, Mr. Grundhand is living in Bucharest and is a well known 
 business man, and Mr. Zuckerman is now an outstanding jour' 
 nalist, living in London. 
 
 The American Joint Distribution Committee had also opened 
 a branch in Poland, for the purpose of transmitting funds from 
 America, but it soon became a tremendous task, and they also 
 had to give it up. During that time they handled millions of 
 dollars, which had to be changed into the currency of the country 
 and distributed to the proper individuals. They encountered 
 untold difficulties and were besieged with complaints. The 
 greatest problems were those caused by the fluctuating rates of 
 exchange. 
 
 For example, a man would deposit $100.00 to be paid to his 
 wife through the Committee in the equivalent value in marks as 
 of that date. According to the rate of exchange at that time, the 
 wife would be entitled to receive, say, 15 marks for each dollar, 
 or 1500 marks. By the time the remittance reached the office of 
 the Committee in Poland, however, the exchange rate of the mark 
 had depreciated to, say, 20 marks per dollar, so that the original 
 $100.00 was now equivalent to 2,000 marks. But as the transac 
 tion had already been completed and the Committee had pur' 
 chased the marks for the woman in question at the rate of 15 
 marks per dollar, all they could pay her, naturally, was 1500 
 marks. The recipient would complain that she had not received 
 full value, regardless of the fact that the Committee could do 
 nothing about this state of affairs. 
 
 Although the claimants, most of whom were women, had the 
 situation carefully explained to them and were aware of the fact 
 that the Committee could not possibly be held responsible, they 
 conducted themselves in an exceedingly unpleasant manner. A 
 few marks more or less meant a great deal to them, and they were 
 loud and persistent in their attempts to collect what they insisted 
 
WAR RELIEF 359 
 
 they were entitled to. They made the Committee a great deal of 
 trouble, going so far as to protest to the Rabbis, interrupting 
 Sabbath services in the synagogues, and hanging around the office 
 of the Committee, arguing and threatening. 
 
 Incidents of this type were numerous, and hampered the work 
 of distribution badly. I afterward learned, from reliable sources, 
 that Mr. Felix Warburg, the president of the American Joint 
 Distribution Committee, had personally put up half a million 
 dollars, to cover a large percentage of these claims, although the 
 Committee was in no way responsible. 
 
 On my way home from my second trip to Poland, I stopped 
 off for a few weeks in Germany. The Versailles Treaty had been 
 signed and peace reigned — but Germany was a ruined country. 
 Everywhere was desolation and despair. 
 
 It was bad enough in Poland, with people hungry and starving, 
 but at least in that country there was some life and activity. 
 Business was being transacted, and one could see people in the 
 restaurants, eating and drinking. The nation was beginning to 
 recover from its wounds. 
 
 But how different in Germany! Here was an entire people, sad, 
 disheartened, disappointed — weary and ill from lack of nourish- 
 ment. Everywhere were sallow, cheerless faces, without hope. It 
 was a pitiful thing to behold. I had taken some food with me from 
 Warsaw, but on the way to Berlin gave most of it up to half- 
 starved people. I assumed that when I reached Berlin I would be 
 able to secure other provisions. What was my surprise to find, 
 when I arrived, that there was simply no food to be had! It was 
 impossible to obtain either bread, butter, eggs, sugar or meat. All 
 that they had at the hotel where I stayed was imitation coffee 
 and saccharine, and black bread in which had been mixed some 
 kind of grass. I was afraid to eat it, and during the three days I 
 spent in Berlin I lived on almost nothing. I had planned to stay 
 
360 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 for at least two weeks, but under those conditions, simply had 
 to leave. 
 
 I felt that it would take a generation for those despairing, 
 starving people to recuperate. The city looked neglected and 
 deserted, and everything was shabby and dirty, so unlike the 
 Germany I had known. There were no automobiles to be seen in 
 Berlin. Cabs were used, but these were old and broken, and the 
 horses that drew them could hardly stand up, from hunger. It 
 was all very depressing. 
 
 Even Mr. Baruch Zuckerman, who hated Germany almost as 
 much as he hated capitalists, had been greatly distressed by what 
 he saw there, when he passed through. He admitted that the sight 
 had brought tears to his eyes. It was hard to imagine, he said, 
 that a whole nation — men, women and children — could look 
 so yellow and show so much evidence of suffering on their faces. 
 It is very, very bad to see such sights. 
 
 From Berlin, I went to Hamburg, which I was told was the 
 only place I could get some food. I found things much better 
 there, as they were beginning to receive a little food from other 
 countries, by boat. But the onccbusy port of Hamburg, that had 
 been like a beehive, with a constant flow of incoming and out' 
 going ships and ceaseless activity, was now quiet and practically 
 deserted. 
 
 I came there during the wintertime, and the hotels were very 
 cold. I had contracted a bad cold during my trip, and was hardly 
 able to speak. When I wanted some hot water with which to 
 gargle, to relieve my sore throat, during the night, I could not get 
 any, but had to make a small fire in my room, with paper and 
 straw, in order to heat some. 
 
 During my stay, the hotelkeeper discussed the situation in 
 Germany with me, and complained bitterly of President Wilson. 
 He contended that while Wilson proclaimed to the world the 
 principle of self-determination of a people, that every people had 
 
WAR RELIEF 361 
 
 a right to choose its own government, he did not grant that right 
 to the Germans. Furthermore, he added, if Germany had not been 
 forced to change its form of government to a democracy, and if 
 they still had the kaiser there, conditions would be a whole lot 
 better. Apparently this was the attitude of the majority. 
 
 I had occasion to return to Germany two years later. Expect' 
 ing to find the situation unchanged, I planned to stay only a few 
 days. What was my astonishment to find things amazingly dif' 
 ferent! It was as though the German people had experienced a 
 resurrection. They looked more like themselves. All kinds of food 
 were available. The streets were clean, and busy with traffic. 
 Automobiles had reappeared. Things were almost normal again. 
 
 It seems that during this period, the sympathy of the world 
 had been aroused in favor of the defeated nation. There was a 
 flood of visitors from other countries, who had come for the 
 express purpose of helping the unfortunate people re-establish 
 themselves. And Germany was again busy. Streets were being 
 paved, houses built, railroads repaired, and manufacturing of all 
 kinds of articles renewed. People were working and eating again. 
 
 The realization that Germany had been most unjustly dealt 
 with in the Versailles treaty was dawning upon the world. Many 
 Americans were beginning to feel that it had been wrong for the 
 United States to enter the war and participate in drawing 
 up so unjust a peace treaty. Book upon book began to appear, 
 some even written by Englishmen, proving that Germany was not 
 alone responsible for the war. Thus the German people gained 
 the good will, compassion and assistance of the world. Through 
 the sale of German bonds, billions of dollars poured into the 
 country to aid in its rehabilitation. Before Hitler came into power, 
 Germany was on the way to becoming again one of the finest 
 countries in the world. Her people were comparatively pros- 
 
362 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 perous, happy and free. Tourists began to arrive, by the tens of 
 thousands, and the outlook was very favorable. 
 
 * * * 
 
 The supervision of the four branches that the Public State 
 Bank had established for the distribution of funds in European 
 countries, necessitated frequent trips to Europe on my part. On 
 each of these, I was instrumental in sending over people to their 
 relatives in America, and thus helped to re-unite several hundred 
 families. 
 
 I felt largely compensated for my efforts in this connection 
 when I received a letter from the New York Central Committee 
 for the Relief of Jews Suffering Through the War, commenting 
 upon the services I had rendered. I quote from it, in part, as 
 follows: 
 
 "Several times during the last few years, you have had occa- 
 sion to be abroad and each time that you were there, by virtue 
 of your presence, much has been accomplished that might have 
 been left undone but for the wisdom that you have displayed in 
 calling our attention to matters that required correction. . . . 
 Every one of your trips brought to us a revelation of conditions 
 that reflected your sensitiveness and compassion for the strug- 
 gling masses of Jewry. 
 
 "Your description of the refugees, as imparted in a letter sent 
 to us last year, has made it possible for us, through its circulari- 
 nation, to bring thousands upon thousands of dollars to us, be- 
 cause it awakened American Israel as never before to realise that 
 the work yet to be done is vaster than all its accomplishments 
 until now." 
 
 On my return from one of these trips, it was suggested that a 
 dinner be held in New York, to be attended by all the people who 
 had come over through my assistance, and that each one relate 
 some experience in this connection that might be interesting. The 
 affair was to have been held at the Broadway Central Hotel, and 
 
WAR RELIEF 363 
 
 several well known men, including Mr. Warburg, Mr. Marshall 
 and Mr. Rosenwald, had been invited to attend. But an unfor' 
 tunate occurrence made it necessary to cancel our plans. While 
 the arrangements were in progress, we received news that the 
 noted Professor Israel Friedlander had been killed while on a 
 mission in Europe. 
 
 Professor Friedlander, who was a native of Poland, was a man 
 of great learning and talent. He was an instructor at the Jewish 
 Theological Seminary, in New York, was the author of several 
 books and had translated Dubnow's "History of the Jews." He 
 had been asked to go to Poland, and if possible, to Russia, as one 
 of a committee of three, to study conditions there, distribute 
 funds and bring back reports. The other two members of the 
 committee, Judge Harry M. Fisher, and Mr. Max Pine, a well' 
 known labor leader of New York, had been assigned to different 
 sections of those countries. While traveling from Poland to 
 Russia, Professor Friedlander, and a companion, whom he had 
 engaged to accompany him, were stopped by Russian soldiers 
 and killed. 
 
 In the course of the several trips I made to Europe during this 
 period, I took the time, on one of them, to visit my native Ponie' 
 mon, which I had not seen for over forty years. I was anxious 
 to view again the scenes of my childhood. 
 
 On arriving, I decided to go first to the home of the Rabbi of 
 the town, although I did not know him. I found the door of his 
 house open, and saw the Rabbi inside, sitting behind a big book 
 which completely screened his face. Only his skull cap was visible 
 behind it. I entered and knocked on a chair to draw his atten' 
 tion, upon which he raised his eyes above the rim of the book. 
 At my "Good morning, Rabbi," he nodded his head somewhat 
 vaguely, and disappeared again behind his book. 
 
364 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "Rabbi," I said, "I am a stranger from America. I want to 
 have the pleasure of talking to you." 
 
 The man lifted his head, murmured something, and again dis- 
 appeared from view. 
 
 "I see that you are engaged in the hard study of God's Torah," 
 I commented, thinking this remark might draw him into convex 
 sation. But he only murmured something unintelligible and con- 
 tinued with his reading, paying no attention to me at all. 
 
 Finally, I said: "If you do not want to listen to me, I will have 
 to leave. All I wanted to know is whether you knew my father, 
 Yankel Horwich." 
 
 "Ah!" he exclaimed, putting the book down, and jumping up. 
 "Yankel! Sholom! Sholom! Peace to you! You are the son of our 
 unforgettable Reb Yankel! May he rest in peace! Why didn't 
 you say so in the first place?" 
 
 "Well," I answered, "I had quite a time getting to the first 
 place." 
 
 The Rabbi immediately became very attached to me, to such 
 an extent, indeed, that it made me rather uncomfortable. He told 
 me all he knew about my family, and talked especially about my 
 father. Apparently, he considered my coming quite an event. 
 The news spread, and soon the whole town was out on the street, 
 surrounding me and greeting me, and asking me about their 
 relatives in the United States. 
 
 I knew none of the townspeople, with the exception of two 
 men and a woman. These were Chaim Hersh Bregstone and his 
 wife, Reva, and a man by the name of Abe Meyer, "son of 
 Moishe." The first-named was a brother of Joseph and Ike Break- 
 stone of New York, whom I have previously mentioned. 
 
 Abe Meyer was an old man, of about ninety years, and blind, 
 and a terrible hater of "Columbus and America." He held on to 
 my arm for nearly half an hour, telling me what America had 
 done to his two sons. They had forgotten all about the Jewish 
 
WAR RELIEF 365 
 
 religion, he had learned. They never went to "schul," did not 
 pray and did not eat "kosher" food, and were just like "Goyim." 
 He told me he was busy day and night praying to God to have 
 mercy on them. 
 
 I remained in Poniemon for a day and a half, and found my 
 town very much the same as I had left it. I noticed, however, 
 that while, in my time, the houses had been on a level with, or 
 higher than, the street — the street now seemed to have risen 
 considerably, and looked higher than the houses. This, no doubt, 
 was due to the accumulation of dust for over forty years. 
 
 The Rabbi took me to see the old synagogue, which they still 
 used. As a child, this synagogue was to me the greatest building 
 and most important place I had ever seen. Now I found it to be 
 a dilapidated wooden shanty. As I entered, memories of my 
 childhood appeared before me. There were the same benches 
 where I had stood beside my father, often for three or four hours 
 at a time, hungry and miserable, beating my breast and praying 
 and crying to God to forgive me for a multitude of sins which 
 I had never committed — as well as for the sin I actually did 
 commit with regard to Herr Ashfort, as related in the early pages 
 of this book. 
 
 At my request, the Rabbi next took me to see the house where 
 I was born. It had changed hands twice, and the rooms were 
 somewhat altered. At the time of my visit, it was owned and 
 occupied by a young couple, and I was pleased to see that it was 
 being kept in rather nice condition. I asked to see the barn in the 
 rear of the house, which caused some surprise, until I explained 
 why. 
 
 When I was about thirteen years old, the other members of 
 my family all went away one summer afternoon, leaving me and 
 several of my young playmates at home. We decided to have a 
 little private party and dug some potatoes from the garden with 
 the intention of baking them. We found, however, that we had 
 
366 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 no wood for our fire. Undaunted, I hit upon a way of securing 
 some, by chopping out the threshold of the barn, which I con' 
 sidered a nuisance and only in the way. I got a hatchet, and each 
 of us chopped a little until we had chopped out the threshold. 
 We built a fire, baked our potatoes, and were enjoying them, 
 with sour milk, when my uncle, Chaim Eleaser, suddenly arrived 
 on the scene. When he discovered how we had secured the wood 
 for our fire, my troubles started. 
 
 Although my uncle was generally good-natured, he had a quick 
 temper. He ordered us to at once take the cows out of the barn, 
 as it was likely to collapse, claiming that the threshold was what 
 kept the barn from falling down. He did not explain this to us 
 calmly, but became very excited and shouted at us at the top of 
 his voice. We forgot our potatoes and sour milk, as he chased 
 us around with a whip, which he wielded right and left, until he 
 became tired. 
 
 "Well," he remarked as he stopped, "I have done my duty. 
 The rest I will leave to your mother." 
 
 When my mother came home, there was more scolding, beating 
 and excitement. Later we talked about engaging someone to put 
 in a new threshold, but as that would cost money, it was delayed 
 from day to day, until the matter was forgotten. 
 
 Since this had been one of the major misdeeds of my youth, I 
 had always had it on my .conscience, and wondered whether any 
 thing had happened; so on this visit I was most anxious to see 
 how the barn looked. To my great surprise and delight, I found 
 that there was still no threshold in the barn, and that it was still 
 standing, just as I had left it. 
 
 I then went to visit the grave of my father. Standing beside it 
 with the Rabbi, who accompanied me, reciting the "kaddish," I 
 lived over again my childhood days, and there rose again before 
 me the image of my father, with the beautiful expression on his 
 
WAR RELIEF 367 
 
 face which denoted his character, his piety and the loveliness of 
 his spirit, which I shall never forget. 
 
 As we turned to go, I remarked to my companion: "I wonder 
 when and where I will meet my father next." 
 
 "If you are as good as your father was," replied the Rabbi 
 solemnly, "you will meet him in heaven." 
 
 "And what if I am not as good?" I could not help but ask. 
 
 Raising his eyes upward, the Rabbi replied: "I hope that you 
 are at any rate good enough so that the great virtues of your 
 father will protect you from going to the other place!" 
 
 While visiting at the home of the Bregstones, it was decided 
 that a young girl of the family, by the name of Lea, should join 
 her uncles and cousins in New York, and it was agreed that she 
 meet me in Danzig, where I would make the necessary arrange' 
 ments for her trip to America. I had to overcome many difficulties 
 to accomplish this, but after spending almost two weeks on the 
 matter, the required documents were finally secured, and Lea left 
 for New York. An intelligent, good-looking and very clever girl, 
 she quickly became Americanized, and after a time became asso- 
 ciated with her uncle, Ike Breakstone, in the dairy business. 
 
 I have recently received a letter from Lea stating that she is 
 married to a man by the name of Fred Wolf, is living in Port 
 Chester, New York, and is very happy. 
 
 During the above-mentioned trip, I took part in a rather ex- 
 citing episode. While I was occupied with my affairs in Warsaw, 
 word was received that the Bolshevik soldiers, commanded by 
 Trotsky, were approaching the city, and might take it within the 
 next forty-eight hours. The war between Russia and Poland was 
 then raging. 
 
 I received a notice from the American Consul in Warsaw to 
 leave at once, as no one could tell what might happen. I made 
 
368 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 the necessary preparations during the night and the next morning 
 set out for the railroad station, to take a train to Danzig. I was 
 surprised to find the street for a block around the station packed 
 with people and baggage — panic-stricken men, women and chil- 
 dren pushing and elbowing each other to get to the trains. I was 
 afraid I would not be able to get through, but by showing my 
 special credentials, and handing out money right and left, I 
 managed to find my way to a third class coach, although I had 
 paid for first class accommodations. In the confusion, I lost two 
 of my four pieces of baggage. 
 
 The train was so terribly crowded that, with the exception of 
 the fortunate few who had come first and secured seats, we stood, 
 packed so closely together that we could not move. 
 
 After riding thus for about two hours, I heard a woman moan: 
 "I am dying. I am going under. Please help me. ,, Although I 
 heard her voice, I could not locate her because of all the people 
 jammed against me. When the train stopped at the next station, 
 I asked that someone find out what was the matter with the 
 woman, but no one paid any attention. I was standing near a 
 window, and opening it, I crawled out, with the intention of 
 buying her something to drink at the station. No sooner had I 
 touched the ground, than a railroad official seized me and told 
 me I had committed an offense in doing this. I tried to explain 
 to him that I had not been able to push my way to the door of 
 the train, and that I only wanted to get a drink for a fainting 
 woman. He would not listen, but took me to the station office 
 and brought me before the stationmaster. When we had both 
 told our stories, the stationmaster observed: "Though your inten- 
 tions may have been all right, you have committed an offense; 
 but I will be lenient." He fined me fifty marks. 
 
 After I paid the fine, I took out my passport and credentials, 
 one of which was from the Secretary of the Polish Legation in 
 Washington. The man thereupon offered to return the fifty 
 
WAR RELIEF 369 
 
 marks, and apologized. I told him, however, that he could keep 
 the money — that he could give it to the poor; but I wanted 
 him to send a man with me so that I could buy something and 
 get back to my car in safety. This was done, and on returning 
 to the car, it took the guard fifteen or twenty minutes to clear a 
 way for me to push through to where I had been before. 
 
 When I finally came to the woman I was seeking, I found her 
 lying on the floor, and helped her to a sitting position. I offered 
 her a glass of the lemonade I had bought, but she looked at me 
 and cried rudely in a sharp, shrill voice: "Finally someone woke 
 up to help a sick, fainting woman!" It was obvious then that she 
 was neither sick nor fainting, but had merely wanted to attract 
 attention, and the people in the car had a good laugh at my 
 expense for all the trouble I had gone to. 
 
 In between these several trips to Europe, I was visited in 
 Chicago by a committee headed by Mr. Max Korshak, who 
 wanted me to accept the receivership of the 16th Street State 
 Bank, which had been closed. He told me the depositors of the 
 Lorimer Bank, of which I had acted as receiver, were very pleased 
 with the way they had been taken care of. The 16th Street Bank 
 also was located in a poor neighborhood, and the depositors were 
 small shopkeepers and working people for the most part. 
 
 After hesitating a few days, I accepted. Several dividends were 
 paid to the depositors, who then decided to reorganize the closed 
 bank. The new enterprise was called the Superior State Bank, 
 of which I was made president. For about seven years thereafter 
 this bank did a fair business. When the depression came along, 
 in order to protect the depositors, we turned it over to another 
 bank, where the depositors received a hundred cents on the dollar, 
 although I had to stand quite a loss, personally, in order to accom' 
 plish this. I do not believe it is out of order to state that I 
 
370 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 received no salary whatsoever while acting as receiver or as presi' 
 dent of the bank. 
 
 Mr. J. Logan Fox was attorney for the bank during this period. 
 He was a member of the firm of Brown, Fox & Blumberg. Mr. 
 Brown, the senior member of that firm, had acted as my attorney 
 when I was receiver of Lorimer's Bank. 
 
 I was later appointed receiver of the West Central State Bank, 
 located on the corner of Ogden Avenue and Roosevelt Road. 
 Deposits amounted to about $600,000.00, and there were several 
 real estate holdings. The majority of the depositors were non' 
 Jews. The bank was found to be in very bad condition, but mat' 
 ters were straightened out to everyone's satisfaction. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 MY VISIT TO PALESTINE 
 
 During all these years, I was busy every day, and often until 
 late at night, with activities relating to Zionism, the Jewish 
 Charities, war relief, carrying my share of the responsibilities of 
 operating our manufacturing plant, employing several hundred 
 people, holding public office and directing the affairs of two banks. 
 
 Finally the press of these manifold duties reacted upon me, 
 and I became very nervous. The peculiar thing was that although 
 I felt ill and discouraged and had no desire for food or rest, every 
 doctor I consulted assured me that my health was good. After a 
 good deal of doctoring, which afforded me no relief, I decided to 
 shake off my business responsibilities to a large extent, concern 
 myself with only one bank, the Public State Bank, and occupy 
 the major portion of my time with communal affairs. 
 
 I resolved to continue in the manufacturing business only in 
 an advisory capacity, with my sons in active charge, and to draw 
 out therefrom a certain amount of money to be invested in mort' 
 gages. The income therefrom, plus dividends from the bank, 
 would be sufficient for my needs. My sons acceded to this plan, 
 and I invested what I withdrew in 5 and 6 per cent mortgage 
 bonds from my own bank. Since that time, I have participated less 
 actively in the management of the business, although I still go to 
 the office every day. 
 
 Here I want to say that I was fortunate, as a whole, in the 
 sort of people associated with me in business. Most of them have 
 been loyal and cooperative and have remained with us for years. 
 Mr. Vitkin, with his thirtyfive years of association, has been with 
 us the longest. Then there was Robert Hutner, now deceased, 
 who was with us for twenty-seven years. David Friedlander was 
 associated with our firm for over twentyfive years, and the fol' 
 lowing have been with us for ten years or more: Paul Kraemer, 
 
 371 
 
372 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Herman Broeker, I. Ziskind, Louis Krueger, Emma Miller, Mary 
 Bressler, who is now Mrs. Savler, Ann Kaplan, who is now Mrs. 
 Musinger, Mrs. C. B. Seal, Miss Helen Chykowska, Herman 
 Nachmann, Mary Gonser, Winnie Mason, Frank Brych, Hyman 
 Waxman, Ben Siegal, Alfred Toma, Paul Weiner, Augusta 
 Kaplan, Helen Klanca and Frank Miller. 
 
 We also have in our employ Joe and Harry Horwich, the sons 
 of my oldest brother, Aron, who have proved themselves to be 
 very able and efficient. 
 
 I would like to make special mention of Jake Yoselovich, who 
 was with us for about twenty years, until he was killed in a rail' 
 road accident, about fifteen years ago. He was very efficient and 
 reliable and an "all around" man. A clever buyer, he did special 
 work in buying raw materials for us. His tragic death was a 
 shock to us, and we felt his loss almost as keenly as did his family. 
 
 Of course, some of the people we employed were not altogether 
 satisfactory, but the majority were, and those above-named have 
 been as fine a group of business associates as any man could wish 
 for. I am proud to say that all of the three hundred and fifty 
 persons now in our employ are our friends — and we are their 
 friends, and we get along very nicely. 
 
 About two years after I started in the hair business, I took my 
 oldest son, Arthur, in with me, and a year or so later, my second 
 son, Philip, joined us. Both started on a salary. Then I let them 
 become stockholders. Soon after I permitted them to sign checks, 
 and soon they were next to me in authority. When my third son, 
 Theodore, grew up and finished his schooling, he came quite 
 often to the office, visiting, looking around, and sometimes helping 
 on the books or answering letters, until little by little he also 
 good-humoredly elbowed himself into the business. He, too, had 
 to get stock, and likewise became a member of the firm. 
 
MY VISIT TO PALESTINE 373 
 
 As time went on, my sons grew in experience and practical 
 business knowledge, taking over more and more responsibilities, 
 while I kept stepping aside. 
 
 In this connection, I am reminded of a clever article I read 
 about thirtyfive years ago, in the Jewish Morning Journal of New 
 York, by a writer who used the pseudonym of "Tashrak." He de' 
 scribed a scene he had witnessed on a street car late one after' 
 noon, when people were hurrying home from their day's labor. 
 
 An elderly Jew, he wrote, got on the car, which was very 
 crowded. The poor man carried bundles under both arms, holding 
 the nickel for carfare in his mouth. Because both of his arms were 
 occupied, he could not hand the nickel to the conductor, and 
 because his face was heavily bewhiskered, the conductor did not 
 see the nickel. When the conductor shouted, "Fares, please!" 
 the hard-pressed fellow was afraid to reply, lest he lose the nickel 
 when he opened his mouth. All he could do was to make a noise 
 through his nose, until the conductor understood him, and pulled 
 the nickel from his mouth. 
 
 When this was accomplished, the heavily'loaded passenger had 
 a terrible struggle to push his way into the car. When he finally 
 got in, he stood in the crowd, swaying to the right and to the 
 left, and backward and forward. Not being able to use his arms, 
 he bumped against one passenger and another, and each one made 
 some unpleasant remark. At last a small boy in front of him got 
 up to leave the car, and the old man sat down. The space being 
 very narrow, he could only sit on the edge of the seat. In that 
 unpleasant position, he remained for a while, until he gathered 
 courage and started to move back a little. The passenger next 
 to him, noticing his predicament, pushed a little to the side. He 
 asked the passenger on his other side to do likewise, and now the 
 much'tried man had enough room to sit comfortably. He started 
 to breathe easier, put some of his bundles on his lap, and took 
 out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face. He then 
 
374 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 looked around on all sides, as though he wished to do something 
 that was not proper but could not make up his mind to it. 
 Finally, after much apparent hesitation, he gathered courage, took 
 out a Jewish newspaper, and started to read it. 
 
 The passenger next to him now got up and left, and the old 
 fellow immediately put some of his bundles on the seat. Then he 
 stretched his legs and felt quite comfortable. In a few minutes, 
 the passenger on the other side of him also left, and immediately 
 he placed the rest of his bundles on that seat. So there he was, 
 sitting and reading his paper, with bundles on both sides of him, 
 retaining control of the three seats until he reached his destination. 
 
 I write this without any reflection upon my sons. I have all 
 the confidence in the world in them and know that they are well 
 thought of by others. It makes me happy to feel that they were 
 properly raised, properly taken care of and are in business with 
 me, and as long as I am still here in this world, I will always try 
 to be of some help to them. 
 
 Two of my grandsons, Leonard (Arthur's son), and Nat 
 Newman (the son of my daughter, Rhea) , are now in the busi' 
 ness. Although they have been with us a comparatively short 
 time, they show indications of developing into able and progress 
 sive young men in the operating of our factories. 
 
 I have no doubt that my sons will follow my procedure — in 
 which case my grandsons will eventually be in the same position 
 in which my sons are now, while my sons will be in the same 
 position as I am now. This seems to be a law of life — that the 
 older generation must give way to the vitality of youth. 
 
 I am not at all sorry that things have worked out as they have. 
 On the contrary, I am happy to have been able to relinquish to 
 my sons the active management of our enterprise. For one thing, 
 it has taken a great deal of worry from my mind and hard work 
 from my shoulders. It has given me more freedom to interest 
 
MY VISIT TO PALESTINE 375 
 
 myself in communal work, which I have always intensely enjoyed. 
 Last, but not least, it has provided me with the necessary leisure 
 to undertake what has turned out to be one of the hardest tasks 
 of my life — the writing of this book. 
 
 Quite often people tell me that I have fine children. My own 
 opinion of my children, among whom I include my three daugh- 
 ters-in-law and one son-in-law, is that seven of them are above the 
 average, while two of them are quite exceptional. I leave it to 
 each of them to guess in which category he or she belongs. 
 
 My four oldest children married at an early age. Arthur mar- 
 ried Lee Sacks, and they have two grown children, Leonard and 
 Jane. Philip married Beatrice Bomash, and they also have two 
 grown children, Franklin and Loretta. Adeline married Bernard 
 Jadwin, and they have two children: David, who is married to 
 Lorraine Weil; and Betty. Rhea married Sam Newman, who 
 passed away a few years ago. She has two boys, Nat and Edward. 
 Theodore, the youngest, married Gertrude Oppenheim, and they 
 have an infant son, James. 
 
 It gives me great satisfaction to know that my grandchildren 
 are all fine youngsters. Our relationship is not the usual one of 
 American-born grandchildren toward an old foreign-born grand- 
 father. We understand each other. My regard for their American 
 background and schooling is balanced by their regard for my 
 experience and knowledge of life. 
 
 Helping my family has always been my greatest pleasure. 
 Although I left my parents when I was very young, I began to 
 send them funds within a short time afterward. Two years after 
 I left home, when I was in Germany and my mother came to 
 visit me, I managed to make her a present of a hundred roubles, 
 which was a lot of money at that time. Since then, and until they 
 died, at an advanced age, my parents received help from me, as 
 well as from my brothers, so that they were able to live in com- 
 
376 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 fort to the end of their days. My oldest brother, Aron, also 
 received financial assistance from me until he died. 
 
 It was in the year 1927 that I partially retired from busi- 
 ness, and my first thought was to visit Palestine and then proceed 
 to Europe in search of a remedy for my nerves. I was anxious to 
 see what had been accomplished in Palestine during the thirty 
 years of effort that my fellow Zionists and I had given to its pre 
 motion and development. 
 
 Three days before I left, while walking in the Loop, I stepped 
 on a small object while crossing a street. Looking down, I saw 
 that it was a diamond bracelet, dropped by someone in the hur- 
 rying crowd. I picked it up and took it in to a jeweler, to deter- 
 mine whether it was genuine, or just a bauble, and to my surprise, 
 he evaluated it at about $2500.00. 
 
 I at once inserted an ad in the Tribune, and left the bracelet 
 with my wife, with instructions that if the properly-identified 
 owner called for it, she should request he pay for the ad, which 
 amounted to $2.90. When I returned from Palestine, I found that 
 the rightful owners, a Mr. and Mrs. Mendelsohn, had claimed 
 the bracelet, and that the insurance company had insisted on 
 leaving a check for $140.00, as a reward, over my wife's objec- 
 tions. This check I used for charitable purposes. 
 
 I was reminded by this incident of the time my father had 
 found a hundred roubles, and had "advertised" it through the 
 Rabbi of the town. 
 
 My first and only visit to Palestine did not impress me very 
 favorably, so far as the material aspect of the country was con- 
 cerned. It so happened, unfortunately, that I was there during 
 the year when they were experiencing what we call a l 'depres- 
 sion. " Work was scarce, business was bad, and hundreds of 
 young men were walking the streets with nothing to do, living 
 on the one meal a day they received from a free kitchen. I found, 
 
MY VISIT TO PALESTINE 377 
 
 also, that though the soil, after cultivation, produces from two to 
 three crops a year, the process of cultivating it is very tedious, 
 difficult and expensive. Most of it is sand, which has to be cov 
 ered with black earth, that must be brought from various places. 
 The tropical climate, too, is difficult to accustom oneself to, and 
 it did not seem to me to be particularly healthful. However, my 
 experience is no criterion, as it may be that my age, the state of 
 my health and my general makeup did not permit me to adjust 
 myself easily to the sudden change. After all, there are now in 
 Palestine over 450,000 Jews from European countries and from 
 the United States who seem to get along very well. 
 
 From the idealistic standpoint, however, Palestine exerts a 
 strong appeal. There is a certain magnetic charm about it that 
 arouses one's pride and inspiration. I have learned that this feeling 
 is experienced by every Jew on beholding this land. To see the 
 hills of Zion, the River Jordan and the wailing wall! To see in 
 actuality the scenes that one studied about in "cheder" — to visit 
 the graves of the patriarchs of Israel! To behold Mt. Sinai, from 
 which Moses preached the Ten Commandments! To set foot on 
 the Land of the Prophets"! One feels himself exalted by all this, 
 and in the presence of something that is holy. 
 
 One of the most impressive sights is that presented by the 
 hills of Zion. An almost straight row of hills, of varying heights, 
 their white summits gleaming in the sun, they look like a row of 
 "Kohanim" (Hebrew priests), with prayer shawls over their 
 bowed heads, blessing the congregation. 
 
 The young Jews of Palestine, I found, were of a different 
 caliber from any I had known in Europe or America. There is a 
 spirit of independence and comradeship that is unique. Through' 
 out Palestine are settlements called "Kvutsot," or cooperative 
 colonies, where young people live and work together on land they 
 had purchased in common, or leased from the National Fund 
 Organisation. 
 
378 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I visited quite a few of these, and found the people to be of a 
 very fine type, independent and fearless, and highly intelligent 
 for the most part. A great many speak three or four languages 
 and are well versed in all phases of human endeavor, have a 
 knowledge of politics, community welfare, progressive education, 
 health and hygiene, and so forth. In some of the colonies, as many 
 as a hundred men, women and children live and work together 
 like one family. They have a big dining room, where they all eat. 
 Some of the women are assigned to the kitchen, others take care 
 of all the children, and the rest work on the land, along with 
 the men. 
 
 A common characteristic is their dislike of being shown 
 sympathy or being praised, or being regarded in any way but as 
 friends and equals. We encountered an example of this at the 
 first colony we visited. After making myself known to the man 
 who met us, through our guide and interpreter, we were asked 
 to wait, and in about twenty minutes, the head of the colony, 
 who had been busy milking cows, came to greet us. He asked me 
 in Yiddish what language I preferred to speak, and I told him 
 either Yiddish or English, but inquired as to how many he spoke. 
 He replied that besides those mentioned, he knew German, 
 Hebrew and Russian. 
 
 During our conversation, in which he gave me various infop 
 mation about the colony, I took out a cigarette, and he asked for 
 one. It was my habit, on my travels, always to have with me 
 several boxes of American cigarettes to give away, so I offered 
 him a box. This he refused to take, however, saying: "I only 
 want one, because I know I can return one, whereas I cannot 
 return a box, not being in a position to give away boxes of cigar' 
 ettes." Thus he showed his desire to be strictly on an equal basis 
 with everyone. 
 
 I inquired as to his attitude in the matter of religion, and he 
 stated that that was something every man had to decide for him' 
 
MY VISIT TO PALESTINE * 379 
 
 self. "As for myself," he added, "I believe in the Jewish people 
 and in the Jewish land, in the Jewish language and the Jewish 
 moral standard, which is comprised in the statement, 'Do not do 
 to others what you do not want them to do to you\" 
 
 Replying to my question as to whether they kept the Sabbath 
 and other holidays, he said: "On all such days we do not work; 
 but all the other things proscribed by our Orthodox Rabbis we 
 do not believe in. We drive, we ride horseback, dance, swim, 
 smoke, play, and enjoy the c Oneg Shabat' (pleasure of the Sab- 
 bath) r 
 
 Incidentally, he told me, regarding the condescending attitude 
 of many of their visitors, of something that had occurred the day 
 before. He and his wife were conversing with an American who 
 had come from Massachusetts, and the latter mentioned that he 
 was a manufacturer of ladies' dresses, and would like to send the 
 colonist's wife half a dozen dresses, if she would tell him her size, 
 and the colors she preferred. While mentioning this, he patroniz- 
 ingly patted the woman on the shoulder, as though to indicate 
 that he, a well-to-do American, was willing to be nice to this 
 poorly dressed Palestinian colonist. 
 
 "I do not want any dresses, nor any favors from you," said the 
 woman, "but I do want something else." 
 
 "What is that?" inquired the American pleasantly. 
 
 "A little more respect," she informed him, and saying goodbye, 
 
 left him standing there. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Among the many sights I saw in my travels through Palestine, 
 I was especially impressed when I came across some twenty or 
 more girls sitting in the hot sun, breaking stones. Most of them 
 were nice-looking, healthy appearing girls, and they were singing 
 Hebrew songs while engaged in that terribly hard work. 
 
 I waited for nearly half an hour, trying to get to speak to the 
 girl in charge. When she was free to talk to me, I asked her: 
 
380 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "Do you consider this splitting of stones in the hot sun the 
 proper work for girls?" 
 
 "This is the kind of work we are doing now," she replied. "We 
 feel well and we are doing it well, and we do not like to talk 
 about it." 
 
 When I asked whether there was anything that I could do for 
 them, she replied: "At the moment, I cannot say; but if you will 
 come tomorrow, I will let you know." 
 
 I was accompanied on this trip by Mr. David Shapiro, whose 
 son, Jack, is married to a niece of mine. Mr. Shapiro, who was 
 quite a scholar and spoke Hebrew well, had come from Chicago 
 to make his home in Palestine. He suggested, when we left the 
 above-mentioned group, that I go with him to a certain candy 
 factory and order a special candy made there, which is the best 
 to be had, very wholesome, and a favorite with the women of 
 Palestine, and give it to these girls when we returned the next 
 day. It seemed a good idea, and we ordered thirtyfive boxes of 
 this rather expensive confection. 
 
 When we returned to the group, on the following day, with 
 our cab filled with this candy, we were pained to find that the 
 girls would not even look at it. I tried to persuade them to take 
 it, explaining that purchases of this kind brought money into the 
 country and should be encouraged; also that the candy had been 
 specially ordered for them; that it was healthful food, and that 
 girls in the United States were in the habit of accepting candy 
 from anyone, whether they were rich or poor. My arguments 
 were of no avail. They would not even discuss it. 
 
 I finally gave up, and said: "Well, I brought the candy for 
 you, and will leave it here, and you can do with it as you please. 
 If you do not want it, give it away to the children in the school." 
 
 On that they all agreed — "for the children in the school." I 
 then asked the girl to whom I had spoken the day before whether 
 she had decided what I could do for the group, and she handed 
 
MY VISIT TO PALESTINE 381 
 
 me a letter written in Hebrew. It was an invitation to attend a 
 meeting of the organisation composed of some hundred and 
 twenty girls who were engaged in the breaking of stones, stating 
 that they would give me there all the information I wanted; that 
 I could speak to them if I wanted to, and could make some kind 
 of contribution to their organisation. 
 
 I made the contribution, but did not go to the meeting, partly 
 because I was not particularly pleased with their attitude, and 
 partly because I could not spare the time. However, I made them 
 a counter proposition, saying that if they selected twentyfive 
 girls from among them, I would give them and their escorts a 
 dinnerdance at the hotel. This they also refused. 
 
 While I realised that these girls were anxious to assert their 
 independence, I did feel that they were carrying it a little too far. 
 
 * # * 
 
 One day, while walking along Allenby Road, in Tel Aviv, in 
 the busiest section of the city, I observed an amusing scene. Two 
 rather distinguished looking Jews, with long beards, crossed the 
 street from opposite sides, and on meeting in the middle, stopped 
 right then and there and started a conversation. Traffic is very 
 heavy at this point, and the automobiles, cabs and carriages travel' 
 ing in both directions had to turn out for these two men, as they 
 stood talking. I watched them nervously, as it seemed certain 
 they would be hit. 
 
 Soon a Jewish policeman came up to them and explained that 
 they ought to continue their discussion on the sidewalk, and not 
 in the street. They made some remark I could not hear, and the 
 policeman came over to where I was standing, and waited for a 
 moment to see that they moved. When they gave no evidence of 
 following his advice, he went up to them again, and in a louder 
 voice told them in Yiddish: 
 
 "This is dangerous for you and for others. I must insist that 
 you kindly remove yourselves. There is plenty of room on the 
 
382 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 sidewalk, and you can converse there undisturbed as long as 
 you like.^ 
 
 One of the men, who had a red beard, spoke to the policeman 
 rather curtly, saying: 
 
 "Listen, you, I am here thirty'five years, and you have been 
 here only a short time; but you think, because you have that 
 little tin toy attached to your lapel that you can order me around 
 as you please. You are mistaken. Just go and mind your own 
 business." 
 
 I expected the young officer to lose his temper at this, but he 
 merely smiled and said: 
 
 "Rabbi, I am terribly sorry, but you will have to come along 
 with me to the station, and we will find out who is right and 
 who is wrong.'" 
 
 Taking him by the arm, he led him away, though I tried to 
 intercede. I explained to the policeman that he looked honest and 
 respectable, and was no doubt a Talmudic scholar; that people 
 of that type considered themselves very important, and that he 
 should merely give him a lecture and let him go. But the officer 
 took him away. 
 
 On the following afternoon, I happened to meet the same man 
 near my hotel. I spoke to him, asking him what had been the 
 outcome of his dispute with the policeman. He excitedly started 
 to relate how unjustly these policemen were behaving towards the 
 people; that they wanted to treat them here as they had been 
 treated in Russia. He had been taken to the station, he said, and 
 fined twenty piasters, which was equal to one dollar in American 
 money. Not having it with him, he had to telephone someone to 
 bring it, and was then released. 
 
 "I am afraid," I said, when he had concluded his story, "that 
 you are exaggerating the situation. After all, it seems to me that 
 the policeman was right. You were standing in the center of the 
 busiest street, and it was for your own good and the good of 
 
MY VISIT TO PALESTINE 383 
 
 others that the officer told you to get up on the sidewalk to 
 continue your discussion. Why did you not do as he suggested?" 
 
 "You mean I should obey a young radical, an ignoramous 
 who has been here only a few years, and we should interrupt 
 our very important discussion because of him?" he cried in' 
 dignantly. 
 
 "What was your discussion about?" I asked. 
 
 "Well," he explained, "I told my friend that the principle of 
 a league of nations, which is called in Yiddish, Toelker Bund,' 
 is mentioned in the Talmud, and he denied my statement, and I 
 wanted to prove that he was wrong." 
 
 As he started to leave, I called the man back and said to him: 
 "I have a confession to make to you. I am as guilty as you, 
 because I called the attention of the policeman to you two stand' 
 ing there and talking." 
 
 "You thought it was all right for me to be arrested?" he asked. 
 
 "No," I said, "I did not want you to be arrested, but I was 
 afraid you would be hurt. However, I am willing to make good." 
 
 I thereupon took out a five dollar bill and offered it to him. 
 
 "Twenty piasters is only one dollar," he said, "so why do you 
 give me five?" 
 
 I tried to think of some reason to give him, and said: 
 
 "Well, you paid a fine of one dollar. During the time you lost, 
 you might have earned some money, perhaps another dollar. 
 That makes two. And the humiliation of being arrested, and your 
 worry over it, is worth three dollars." 
 
 What do you suppose he replied to that? 
 
 "One dollar for the fine I paid," he said, "is all right. One 
 dollar for the time I lost is all right, too. But three dollars for 
 my aggravation and for my disgrace is no money at all." 
 
 With due apologies, I said: "That is all I think it was worth 
 to you." 
 
384 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 He accepted the five dollars, and we parted good friends. 
 
 * * * 
 
 In traveling from one colony to another, we frequently met 
 Arabs, singly or in groups, walking along or driving their sheep 
 or goats. When we stopped one day at a well, to get some fresh 
 water, we had occasion to observe the sharp contrast in the life 
 led by Oriental and American women. 
 
 We came upon an Arab family, consisting of husband, wife 
 and baby. The man was sitting on a donkey, smoking a cigarette 
 and holding a little parasol over his head for protection from the 
 hot sun, while his wife, balancing a jug of water on one shoulder 
 and her child on the other, was compelled to walk alongside. 
 
 At the well, also, were a young American Jewish tourist and 
 his wife, who were on their honeymoon. The young woman was 
 obviously very irritated with the Palestinian trip. She refused to 
 drink the water offered her, even refused to get out of the auto' 
 mobile, and complained bitterly of the fact that her husband had 
 taken her there. 
 
 Two of the men in my party were Americans, and one of them 
 proposed that we drag the Arab off his donkey, set his wife on 
 it, and make the man carry the jug of water and the child. They 
 made a move to do this, but I called them back, explaining that 
 this was the wrong way to accomplish their purpose. As soon as 
 they were out of sight, I told them, the man would get back on 
 the donkey, and the chances were that he would give his wife a 
 good beating after they got home. 
 
 I suggested that our guide talk to the husband and tell him 
 how wrong it was to ride along comfortably, while his wife had 
 to walk beside him with her burdens. It was agreed to try this, 
 and the guide went over and spoke to the Arab, but he paid no 
 attention to what he said, and told everybody to mind their own 
 business. 
 
N 
 
 \ 
 
 \ < 
 
 * 
 
MY VISIT TO PALESTINE 385 
 
 I then proposed that the three of us each give the Arab woman 
 fifty cents, making a dollar and a half in all. We instructed her 
 to give this to her husband if he would allow her to ride home; 
 but if he refused, she could keep the money for herself. The 
 husband did not get off the donkey, but he did take the child 
 and the water jug, and they went off with the woman trudging 
 alongside. What happened when they got home, of course, we 
 do not know. 
 
 While we were discussing this episode, several Palestinian girls 
 arrived with a wagonload of hay drawn by two horses. I engaged 
 them in conversation and said to them: 
 
 "You no doubt have noticed the difference between the treat' 
 ment of women in America and in Palestine. What is your 
 opinion about this?" 
 
 "From what I have noticed," observed one of them, "it seems 
 that in America the man is the slave of the woman, while with 
 the Arabs, the women are the slaves of the men. With us, how 
 ever, the true Palestinians, neither is the slave of the other. We 
 are just as good as the men, and the men are just as good as we 
 are. We do the same work, and want to be treated alike — as 
 human beings — with no difference between us." 
 
 One day, while we were driving along, we met three Arabs 
 coming down the road with a herd of sheep. Instead of stopping 
 to let them pass, our driver continued on his way, frightening 
 the sheep so that they ran in all directions. A heated argument 
 ensued between the Arabs and the driver, which we settled by 
 giving them some cigarettes and a few coins. The basis of the 
 argument was that the Arabs claimed they had as much right 
 to the public road as the driver had, and that it was the duty of 
 the latter to stop and let them go by. 
 
 I used this story as an illustration in a report I later made, 
 when I mentioned how in other countries the Jews claim that 
 they are just as good as the non-Jews. This, of course, is a vain 
 
386 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 claim, since the non'Jews do not accept it. To be impelled to 
 make the statement that one is "as good as" another is evidence 
 of a feeling of inferiority on the part of the claimant. Thus, if a 
 wife says that her "strudel" is as sweet as honey, it is obvious 
 that she realises honey is sweeter; or when a young man boasts 
 that he loves his sweetheart as much as he loves his life, it means 
 that he loves his life better. 
 
 In Palestine, the usual attitude is reversed. Here it is the Arabs 
 who claim that they are just "as good as" the Jews, for the 
 creative achievements of the Jews awaken in the Arabs a sense 
 of inadequacy. 
 
 I had spent three weeks in Egypt before coming to Palestine. 
 My first stop was in Alexandria. We drove around the city for 
 about half an hour, and everything was very strange, yet vaguely 
 familiar, through having read about these things in the Bible. The 
 oriental costumes, the veiled women, the market places, were all 
 out of the past. 
 
 I visited an ancient synagogue, and although it was a week' 
 day, the synagogue was open. A few men and women were 
 seated outside, on benches. They looked, talked and conducted 
 themselves like Egyptians — there was no trace of anything Jew 
 ish about them. I said to them in Hebrew, "Ivrim Atem," mean' 
 ing, "Are you Hebrews?" At this they all looked up surprised, and 
 started talking to me in Arabic, interspersed with a few Hebrew 
 words. 
 
 Outside, everything seemed strange and foreign, but when we 
 all entered the synagogue, I felt at home. There I saw the same 
 prayer books, the same Bible, the same Scrolls and the same kind 
 of Ark as those I was familiar with. 
 
 My next stop was Cairo. Here my experience was similar to 
 that in Alexandria. Everything in Cairo was strange, until I en' 
 tered a synagogue there. As with the Jews of Alexandria, there 
 
MY VISIT TO PALESTINE 387 
 
 was nothing about the Jews of Cairo that made them recognize 
 able as such. 
 
 It was then I realised, more than ever, that what keeps the 
 scattered Jews of the world together is the Bible, the synagogue, 
 the prayer books; in other words, their religion. 
 
 I found little to interest me in Alexandria, but Cairo proved 
 most fascinating, especially in its contrast between modern and 
 ancient modes of living. It abounds in historical associations. I 
 was shown the very spot in the Nile river where Pharoah's 
 daughter was supposed to have found the infant Moses, and this 
 was one of the greatest thrills of the Egyptian trip. When I later 
 visited Mt. Sinai, I remarked to a companion: 
 
 "I have seen where the child Moses was drawn from the 
 water, and now I see where he stood when he gave the eternal 
 Ten Commandments to the world." 
 
 I viewed the Pyramids, and was carried back thousands of 
 years. I was reminded of Napoleon's remark to his soldiers, when 
 he stood before them. 
 
 "Four thousand years of history are looking down upon you," 
 he said. 
 
 One of the things that interested me greatly was being shown 
 the place where until comparatively recent years, human sacrifices 
 were thrown into the Nile to prevent it from overflowing. I was 
 told that at the time Napoleon entered Egypt, he was accorded 
 the honor of performing the sacrifice. A young girl, dressed as 
 a bride, was to be thrown into the river. The story goes that he 
 substituted a life-like doll for the girl at the crucial moment. As 
 it happened, the Nile did not overflow that year, and Napoleon 
 was thus able to convince the Egyptians that human sacrifice 
 was not necessary — a likeness of a human being would just as 
 effectively propitiate the river god. 
 
 The museum at Cairo, under the control of both England and 
 Egypt, was also most interesting. Excavations carried on by the 
 
388 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 museum had uncovered, among others, the tomb of the Egyptian 
 Pharoah, Rameses II, who had enslaved the Jews. I saw his 
 mummified form, and the heavy, solid gold coffin in which he had 
 been buried. 
 
 As I gased upon what was left of him, I could not prevent 
 the vagrant thought stealing through my mind that had Moses 
 left the Jews alone, he might have saved himself a great deal of 
 trouble, as well as the Jews throughout the centuries, and mil" 
 lions of Jews today. We would not now be faced with the rather 
 difficult task of trying to convince the world that it should repay 
 us with gratitude, and not unkindness, for the new humanitarian- 
 ism that Moses taught mankind. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 
 
 When I partially withdrew from my business, leaving its active 
 conduct to my sons and continuing chiefly in an advisory capacity, 
 I was very happy in anticipation of the time I would devote to 
 communal work and public affairs, and made memoranda of vari' 
 ous plans in this connection. 
 
 My hopes were bitterly disappointed when the "depression" 
 suddenly came upon us, altering the course of many lives. Like 
 thousands of others, I was horrified to learn that my "secure" 
 investments were little by little melting away, like ice on a warm 
 day. 
 
 I had started to work when I was fourteen years old. From that 
 time on, I managed to save at least a little almost every year. 
 Although some years I just came out even, I never fell behind. 
 It was one of my invariable rules always to have some money 
 to fall back on in case of emergency, and I believed I had pro' 
 vided sufficient security for myself and those who might be dc 
 pendent upon me. 
 
 Now, when I was reaching the age at which most people began 
 counting their days, I was suddenly confronted with the prospect 
 of losing everything I had saved and worked for all my life, and 
 being left penniless. Besides myself, I had two married sons and 
 two married daughters with families to think of. My son-in-law, 
 Sam Newman, who was married to my youngest daughter, Rhea, 
 had been considered well-to-do. He had a fortune in real estate; 
 but during the first years of the depression he lost everything, 
 and his wife and children remained with me. He tried his luck in 
 other cities, where he "knocked about," doing all kinds of hard 
 work, which was too much for him. These difficulties, and worry 
 over his wife and children and the losses he had suffered, under- 
 mined his health, and he died not long afterward. 
 
 389 
 
390 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 So rapidly did business everywhere begin to decline, and so 
 serious did the general situation become, that I spent many a sleeps 
 less and restless night. I became aware, through my own distress, 
 of how desperate and miserable were those poor men who com- 
 mitted suicide under the terrible strain. 
 
 I had never been given to speculation, and had always been 
 conservative in financial matters. I had thought that my invest- 
 ments in first mortgage real estate, at less than the current interest 
 rates, about the safest investment possible. Now, day by day, I 
 found my savings slipping away by the thousands of dollars. Real 
 estate and mortgages were becoming almost worthless. 
 
 The banks of which I was president were losing more and more 
 money each day. The manufacturing business which supplied a 
 living for my sons and their families was slipping downward at a 
 high speed. Up to that time, my sons and I had worked together, 
 but we were reaching a point where we were about to decide to 
 leave the sinking ship and say, "Each one for himself." 
 
 It was certainly a terrible time, and I can recall no more 
 agonising hours than those I spent during those worst years of the 
 "depression." But as fate decreed, we were able to survive. During 
 my absence from the city, my sons managed to turn over the 
 two banks to a larger bank, with no loss to the depositors. They 
 also began manufacturing a new and different product, distantly 
 connected with our hair business, and this proved successful 
 enough to stop the enormous losses and eventually to make both 
 ends meet. 
 
 Here I must say, to the glory of the Jewish bankers in and 
 around Chicago, that with the exception of one very small bank, 
 every Jewish bank liquidated without resorting to a receivership, 
 and paid its depositors one hundred cents on the dollar. 
 
 Chief among these was the Foreman Brothers Banking Co., 
 which had been in existence for eighty-five years. When they 
 realised the situation, they turned over their huge bank, with 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 391 
 
 many hundreds of millions of dollars in deposits, to another big 
 national bank, and at the same time, the Foremans turned over 
 their personal fortunes, which amounted to many millions of 
 dollars, in order to protect the depositors from any loss. They 
 themselves — the four members of the firm — were left with 
 absolutely nothing. When the eldest member of the firm, Oscar 
 Foreman, was leaving the bank for the last time, he picked up his 
 hat and cane and remarked: "This is all I take with me. 11 But 
 the depositors were paid in full. 
 
 Preceding Mr. Foreman from the conference chambers, where 
 final arrangements had been made, was a prominent, nationally 
 known individual. Questioned as to what had transpired, this 
 man replied: 
 
 "The drama, The Merchant of Venice,' has just been re 
 enacted here — but Shylock was not a Jew." 
 
 Oscar Foreman died soon after of a broken heart, and the 
 other members of the family had to find other means of earning 
 a livelihood. 
 
 Another noteworthy example was the SchifF State Bank, of 
 which B. J. SchifT was president. It had been in existence, I be 
 lieve, over thirty years. Mr. Schiff could have saved enough 
 assets from the bank at least to keep his family and himself in 
 comfort for the rest of their lives; but he did not do so. He 
 turned over his personal property, and everything he had, to pro- 
 tect the depositors from losing anything. And so with other Jew- 
 ish bankers. The Hitlerites and their followers ought to take note 
 
 of this. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Those people who understand the situation at all know that 
 the "depression," from which we have not yet emerged, was an 
 aftermath of the World War, and that the whole world was 
 affected in the same way, some countries more so than others. 
 Nevertheless, the blame for our troubles was placed on the shoul' 
 
392 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 ders of the much-misunderstood Herbert Hoover, who was then 
 president. People are still afraid to mention his name; yet before 
 he became president, he was considered to be a statesman, diplo- 
 mat and great organizer, and a truly great man. As food admin- 
 istrator for the war-stricken countries, Mr. Hoover was lauded 
 for having done marvelous work. 
 
 I had always, in general, looked upon national leaders as highly 
 superior men. Impressed with what I had read and heard about 
 the greatness of Bismarck, Disraeli, Gladstone and other such 
 famous leaders and statesmen, I had come to believe that the 
 heads of nations or others holding high national office were neces- 
 sarily men of exceptional intelligence and education, possessed of 
 extraordinary ability. I had the utmost admiration and respect 
 for them. 
 
 But I was sadly disillusioned during the astonishing develop- 
 ments of the World War period. Watching the turn of events, 
 I came to the painful realization that these men were no different 
 from the everyday run of men. Many of them, I now saw, rated 
 below a good business man, an able industrialist, a professional 
 man, or anyone of fair intelligence. 
 
 I was particularly conscious of this fact when, about this time, 
 I listened to an address delivered not by a statesman or a diplomat 
 or one who speaks for a nation — but by one of our rabbis, whose 
 name is Solomon B. Freehof. His address was devoted to an 
 analysis of the political, economic and religious changes that had 
 taken place in Russia. In short, striking phrases, he so brilliantly 
 described each important change that the audience followed him 
 spellbound. By his clear and lucid explanation, he drew for us 
 so vivid a picture of the new Russia, that everyone understood 
 the situation perfectly. 
 
 Following the Rabbi's talk, which took but forty minutes, I 
 joined a group enthusiastically discussing his remarkable and com- 
 prehensive address. Among them was the late Mr. Leo F. 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 393 
 
 Wormser, who was acknowledged to possess a brilliant mind and 
 was one of the outstanding lawyers of Chicago. In commenting 
 on the lecture we had just heard, he remarked to us, and all pres- 
 ent agreed with him, that no statesman anywhere could possibly 
 have presented the new Russia one-tenth so well in hours as Rabbi 
 Freehof had done in a brief forty minutes. 
 
 Ever since my arrival in this country, about sixty years ago, I 
 have always felt that the national leaders of the Republican party 
 were superior to the leaders of the Democratic party, and I am 
 now more fully convinced than ever of this fact. 
 
 During this time, we have had eleven presidents, eight of whom 
 were Republicans and three of whom have been Democrats. All 
 the Republican administrations, with the exception of that of 
 Hoover, were marked by no untoward event. As a whole, they 
 ran along smoothly, some a little better than others. We can 
 really look upon them as representing the Golden Age of the 
 United States. Under them, the country grew in population, pros' 
 perity and contentment. On the other hand, under the three 
 Democratic administrations of two terms each, these normal con- 
 ditions were disturbed. Each Democratic president had some new 
 plan or idea to carry out, which I am sorry to say, was not for 
 the better, but for the worse. 
 
 I have come to the realisation that the people in general have 
 been led by the Democratic leaders to believe that the Republican 
 party is composed of the rich; that it caters to the rich and rep- 
 resents the rich, while the Democratic party comprises and 
 represents the poor people, especially the working class. The 
 national leaders of the Democratic party have always posed as 
 the representatives and the protectors of the workers and the poor 
 against their enemies, the people of wealth. Up to the time of the 
 present administration, it is a fact that all classes of people in the 
 
394 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 country prospered more greatly and were much happier under 
 Republican rule than under the Democratic regime. 
 
 About three years after I came to this country, Grover Cleve' 
 land was elected president. Though he was considered an able 
 man and utterly sincere, he advocated the philosophy of free trade, 
 under which various goods and materials, with some exceptions, 
 are permitted to enter the country free of duty. No sooner was 
 he fairly settled in the White House, than he began to carry this 
 free trade policy into effect, and thus brought on hard times, 
 manifested in what was then called a "panic." 
 
 I had a small business at that time, and people came to me 
 looking for jobs for from sixty to seventy-five cents a day. There 
 were strikes and troubles of all kinds, and the hard times con' 
 tinued until the end of Cleveland's term. He ran again, against 
 Benjamin Harrison, a Republican, and was defeated. For four 
 years, everything ran smoothly; but as luck would have it, Cleve' 
 land was then elected for another term, and we had four more 
 years of hard times. Though not comparable to our current "dc 
 pression," there was a large number of unemployed, and wages 
 were the lowest that I can remember. 
 
 When that term was ended, it was the general opinion that the 
 National Democratic party could take a long rest. For the next 
 sixteen years, under Republican administration, the country was 
 in a healthy, prosperous condition; but unfortunately, in 1912, 
 because of a split in the Republican party, and through sheer luck, 
 Woodrow Wilson, a Democrat, was elected president. 
 
 Mr. Wilson was then considered to be one of the great intel' 
 lects and great statesmen of the world. Though he also pursued 
 the policy of free trade, the World War broke out before the 
 country could be affected by his policies one way or the other, 
 and because of the war, we got along very well as far as business 
 and financial conditions were concerned, for the time being. It is 
 my opinion, and I venture to say, the opinion of the majority, 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 395 
 
 that because President Wilson led this country to participate in 
 the war, the Democratic party can be considered responsible for 
 many of the ills from which we now suffer as a result. 
 
 When the World War first broke out, the opinion of the Jews 
 in America was rather indefinite. The Jews had suffered so much 
 under the Csarist government of Russia, that they could not wish 
 to see it win. Their attitude toward the Allies, as a rule, was 
 neutral, and the majority hoped that the war would end in some 
 kind of compromise, with Russia greatly weakened. 
 
 From the very first, I had my doubts about the philosophy and 
 policy of President Wilson in this connection, and by reason of 
 his speeches and acts before the United States entered the war, 
 I lost all confidence in him. Mr. Wilson embarked on a speaking 
 tour, toward the end of his first term, advocating preparedness, 
 because "the sparks of the European fire were settling on our 
 roofs." That statement, for which there was no sound basis, made 
 many of us suspicious that he was going to lead us into war. 
 The slogan on which he won his re-election was, "He kept us 
 out of the war." I wanted to know why no promise was made 
 by him or one of his responsible representatives that he would 
 continue to keep us out of the war. I argued that we were not 
 interested in what he had done, but in what he was going to do. 
 We heard no assurance of that kind. 
 
 During his campaign for re-election, I had occasion to speak in 
 public several times, and often repeated my fear that Mr. Wilson 
 would involve us in the European conflict. I stated that I could 
 not trust him unless he came out with an open promise that he 
 would do nothing to implicate us. Upon being elected to his 
 second term, Mr. Wilson gave notice to Germany that unless she 
 ceased her submarine attacks, the United States would be forced 
 to take steps to stop her. I was then practically convinced that 
 we would be involved in the war, and so asserted to my friends. 
 
396 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I remember one occasion, about six weeks after Mr. Wilson's 
 re-election, when I made this prophecy. I had occasion to visit the 
 home of a Mr. I. Lurya, on Douglas Boulevard, and found there 
 Mr. S. J. Rosenblatt, Mr. Max Korshak, Judge Fisher, and a few 
 others. We talked for a while about community affairs, especially 
 about the Maimonides Hospital, in which we were all very much 
 interested, and finally began discussing politics and the presidential 
 election. The prevailing opinion in the group was the familiar one 
 that only with Wilson in office could we surely avoid being in' 
 volved in the war, while anyone else would undoubtedly draw us 
 in. However, I was of the opposite opinion, and insisted that 
 President Wilson had acted for a long time as though he would 
 like to see this country take part in the conflict; that now that he 
 was re-elected, I was sure he would drag us in. 
 
 Everyone present criticised my remarks in a very unfriendly 
 manner, and Mr. Lurya, who was very excitable, shouted at the 
 top of his voice that it was because I was such a fanatic Repub- 
 lican that I dared make these fantastic, untrue statements. At this 
 point, Mr. Lurya's daughter came over to me and whispered that 
 I should not continue the argument, as her father was a sick man 
 and it was dangerous for him to become excited. I thereupon 
 smilingly admonished Mr. Lurya to "cool off," and said we would 
 not talk any more about the matter. 
 
 While writing this book, I made it a point to ask Judge Fisher 
 whether he remembered the incident, and he told me that he did. 
 I do not dwell upon this for the purpose of boasting, but merely 
 to prove how an entire nation can be swayed by one clever man, 
 who knows what to say, and how to say it, at the proper time. 
 
 The Democratic spellbinders continued to hammer away that 
 Wilson must be re-elected, or we would be dragged into the war. 
 It seemed that fate decreed it so. Because of a slight error made 
 by his opponent, Wilson captured the state of California by 
 several hundred votes, and this won him the election. A short time 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 397 
 
 afterward, the United States joined the Allies, and thereupon 
 conducted itself as though it were surrounded by enemies and 
 was in imminent danger of being wiped out of existence. This 
 excited attitude was assumed in spite of the fact that Germany 
 had already been at war for over three years; that she was fighting 
 against some eighteen nations, among them the greatest powers in 
 the world; and that she was so completely encircled that she 
 could secure no food from outside sources, and the whole nation 
 was starving. 
 
 Immediately our country was flooded with tens of thousands of 
 government spies; orators by the thousands were let loose to 
 preach propaganda against Germany. The "Four Minute Men" 
 exerted their imaginations to the utmost to spread hatred against 
 that country. In restaurants, in theaters, in moving picture 
 houses, everywhere, these men advocated the destruction of Ger' 
 man militarism — if not, "America is lost." Willingly or unwil' 
 lingly, these men were granted a hearing wherever and whenever 
 they appeared. 
 
 I remember one evening, in a "movie" theater, the picture was 
 suddenly interrupted, and a little fellow with a shrill voice got 
 up on the stage and faced us arrogantly. 
 
 "People of America," he cried, "here you are, enjoying life, 
 liberty and the pursuit of happiness — but on the other side of 
 the ocean there is a man with an army behind him, who is trying 
 to conquer the world and destroy us!" He belabored the Kaiser, 
 his generals and his army, and then began to describe how innc 
 cent old men, women and children were being slaughtered in the 
 most inhuman manner, by the invading soldiers. 
 
 I could not imagine how presumably sensible people and liberal 
 men could tell such brutal stories, which they knew were not true. 
 I used to cover my ears, so as not to listen to this vicious 
 propaganda. 
 
398 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 This sort of thing kept up until the war was won, victory was 
 ours, and our American war leaders were proclaimed as great 
 heroes. What was their magnificent accomplishment? With 
 125,000,000 people behind them, with enormous wealth of mate' 
 rial at their command, and unlimited supplies of food, they had 
 helped some eighteen other nations, with a population totaling 
 around 500,000,000, conquer an already exhausted Germany and 
 Austria, with a population of about 100,000,000. 
 
 But that is not all. When victory had been achieved, the gov 
 ernments of all these nations were busy for nine months devising 
 plans for squeezing the last drop of blood out of a conquered, 
 prostrated, starving, helpless people. All the assertions that had 
 been made by our government, that "we are not after the German 
 people, only after the Kaiser and the military clique," and that 
 "we want peace without victory," were forgotten and ceased to 
 be mentioned. 
 
 But as fate decreed, the saying of the Talmud, "If you want to 
 grasp too much, then you grasp little," applied here. The rep' 
 resentatives of the various nations, sitting in judgment on Ger' 
 many and Austria, overreached themselves in their harsh treat' 
 ment — so much so, that by the end of the following year, the 
 sympathy of the people of all countries had turned in favor of 
 Germany, as a result of the unforgivable peace treaty that was 
 signed at Versailles. 
 
 How different had been Germany's conduct in a like situation! 
 These people, whom the propagandists had called "Huns and 
 barbarians" knew how to deal humanely with a vanquished foe. 
 In 1871, Germany had won a war with France, which had been 
 declared by France. When the peace treaty was drawn up, rep' 
 resentatives of both sides assembled. It took them a comparatively 
 short time, perhaps a few weeks, to agree on terms. It was pre 
 vided that France pay war indemnities, and the sum of five billion 
 francs, or one billion dollars, was determined upon. Though at 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 399 
 
 that time this was, of course, a tremendous sum of money, it 
 nevertheless could not have been too burdensome upon the French 
 people, as they managed to pay it in less than two years — and 
 then they were through. 
 
 As soon as France had capitulated, the German "barbarians" 
 despatched train-loads of food to Paris and other large centers of 
 France. They also offered to help the French government bring 
 order out of the chaotic condition resulting from the war, although 
 France did not accept this offer. 
 
 At the drawing up of the Versailles treaty, on the other hand, 
 although the German army had surrendered and was dissolved 
 and was helpless, the Kaiser had abdicated and fled to Holland and 
 a democratic form of government was organised as dictated by 
 President Wilson, the blockade of Germany was continued and 
 during the nine months the powers were negotiating, the Germans 
 could not receive food from the neutral countries. As a result, 
 starvation conditions prevailed throughout most of the country. 
 
 Austria-Hungary, Bohemia, Slovakia, and a few other nation' 
 alities had lived together in peace and harmony for some two 
 hundred and fifty years. They were joined under a mild mon- 
 archical form of government, with a parliament, the members of 
 which were chosen from among all the different nationalities. The 
 seat of the government was in Vienna. 
 
 Upon this harmonious group was forced "self-determination," 
 with the aid of a few interested officeholders, and without ascer- 
 taining whether the people themselves wanted it or not. This 
 phrase, coined by President Wilson, provided that each group of 
 people had the right to form its own national government. In this 
 instance, this action, as dictated by the Versailles Treaty, without 
 recourse to a referendum, was comparable to tearing apart the 
 members of a happy family and leaving each one to its own fate. 
 
 The Munich scandal, whereby Bohemia, Slovakia, Moravia and 
 other small countries were swallowed by Hitler, and which out- 
 
400 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 raged the world, was an outcome of that disastrous treaty, a 
 further result of which was that about 350,000 Jews were thus 
 added to the 500,000 in Germany, to undergo the same terrible 
 persecutions. 
 
 Had it not been for the Versailles Treaty, we would not now 
 be faced with the fact that a nation of slaves and barbarians is 
 being reared in Germany — constituting a threat to the entire 
 civilized world. 
 
 In drafting the peace treaty, none of the representatives of 
 either Germany or Austria were called in; but after everything 
 was ready, they were notified to come and sign, and were given a 
 few days' time to say "yes" or "no." 
 
 When the people of the world realized what had been done, a 
 reaction set in, and offers of assistance poured in, even from the 
 countries that had been at war with Germany. The result was 
 that Germany received, from these sources, enough money not 
 only to pay most of its reparations to the various governments, 
 but to enable it to build itself up again almost to a better status 
 than had been the case before the war — that is, from a material 
 point of view. 
 
 From the political viewpoint, however, the democratic form of 
 government that was foisted upon them, contrary to their wishes, 
 to "make the world safe for democracy," defeated its purpose, and 
 enabled Hitler, with his party, to capture control of the German 
 nation. Now, instead of a Kaiser, under whom the German nation, 
 Jews and non-Jews, prospered and was considered to be one of 
 the most cultured countries in the world, with the type of govern' 
 ment best suited to the needs of the German people, they are 
 ruled by one man, before whom the whole world cringes in fear. 
 
 Contrary to general opinion, the Kaiser was not an autocrat, 
 as we now understand the term. His decisions and requests for 
 any appropriations whatsoever were subject to approval by the 
 Reichstag, which was a representative body at that time, and he 
 
•St 
 
 t 
 
 „2 
 
 - : 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 401 
 
 could not declare war without the consent of the heads of the 
 various German states. 
 
 Representative Germans today, among whom are scientists, 
 scholars, professors, and other men of prominence, Jews and non- 
 Jews alike, give us to understand that the great majority of the 
 German people would be only too happy to see the Kaiser re' 
 stored, with the same form of government they had before the 
 war, and in my opinion this is the general attitude of world 
 leaders today. 
 
 Most of the social problems with which our government is 
 struggling today were satisfactorily worked out in Germany long 
 before the war. They had instituted all the social reforms which 
 have just recently been adopted by our government, such as old 
 age pensions, unemployment relief, sick benefits, etc. The rights 
 of the workers, of the so-called under-privileged and of the "for- 
 gotten man" had been established in Germany under the Kaiser, 
 without any hullabaloo. If I am not mistaken, the first labor 
 union in Europe was organized in that country. The strongest 
 organisation of labor in the world existed in Germany, under the 
 Kaiser, with a membership of about ten million workers. The 
 Socialist party in the Reichstag was one of the strongest in the 
 country. Open preaching of class hatred, or racial or religious 
 intolerance, was unknown. The most influential group of Jews 
 in the world were the Jews of Germany. 
 
 When the Duke of Windsor, the former King of England, 
 visited Germany, he was surprised to find that there were no 
 slums there, and a few years before the war, Lloyd George, war 
 premier, spoke about following the example of Germany in 
 social welfare. 
 
 In forcing Germany to accept a republican form of government, 
 democracy has not only not been made "safe," but the countries 
 with democratic forms of government have been made most 
 unsafe, and the world is now experiencing the greatest flood of 
 
402 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 dangerous propaganda in its history, a flood which is spreading 
 the dogmas of Fascism, Nazism and Communism in every country 
 on earth, including the United States. 
 
 It is regrettable that due to Hitler's outrages against Jews and 
 others, the German people as a whole are held responsible by 
 many for his brutality, and have come to be looked upon as hate- 
 ful and vicious. So firmly is this unjust opinion held by a great 
 number, that any defense of the German people in general is 
 viewed with scorn and contempt. How sad it is that the great 
 majority of well meaning Germans should be bitterly maligned 
 because of a wicked government, whose ringleaders and henchmen 
 are comparatively small in number, and in no way represent the 
 fine qualities of the German people. 
 
 Strangely analagous is the situation of the Jews of the world. 
 Because here and there a few of us may be objectionable, a hue 
 and cry is raised against all of us, and we are all made to suffer 
 thereby. We, of all people, should understand the plight of those 
 among the Germans who are innocent of evil. Instead of blaming 
 them, we should sympathise with them, that they have to put up 
 with such a cruel and vicious government. 
 
 * * * 
 
 During the time of the World War, the Zionist organisation 
 all over the world languished and almost ceased to function, except 
 in the United States. Here a Provisional Committee consisting of 
 about forty prominent men was organised by Louis D. Brandeis 
 and Judge Julian W. Mack, with Judge Mack at the head, to keep 
 the movement alive. This committee bore all the expense of 
 carrying on the work of the organisation during this time. When 
 Mr. Brandeis was appointed a member of the Supreme Court of 
 the United States, he could not attend public meetings of the 
 Zionist organisation or take too active a part in its work. It was 
 known, nevertheless, that he was the backbone of the Provisional 
 Committee. 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 403 
 
 If not for him, the chances are that the Balfour Declaration 
 would not have been proclaimed. I received this information from 
 reliable sources while in Europe. It seems that after the Balfour 
 Declaration had been framed and approved at a meeting of the 
 cabinet of the British Government, one of the members made a 
 motion to postpone the matter for the present. That meant that 
 it would never see the light again. On the same day word of this 
 was transmitted to Justice Brandeis, he prevailed upon President 
 Wilson to insist that the proclamation be issued at once; and a 
 few days later his famous letter, containing the Balfour Declara' 
 tion, was delivered to Baron Rothschild and was published. 
 
 Soon after the Armistice, a special conference was called by the 
 Zionist Organisation, in Europe, at which were present Justice 
 Brandeis, Dr. Chaim Weiz,mann, Mr. Ussishkin and other lead' 
 ing Zionists. What actually happened there is not definitely 
 known, but this much is known: 
 
 Before the meeting opened, Judge Brandeis conferred with Dr. 
 Weismann and other leading European Zionists and submitted to 
 them a full program of future activities that he felt should be 
 taken up at the meeting, to which they all agreed. But when the 
 meeting was held, with Dr. Weismann presiding, the entire pre 
 gram of Brandeis was disregarded and was not even mentioned. 
 
 Later, I believe it was in June, 1921, a convention of the Zionist 
 Organisation was held at Cleveland, Ohio, and was attended by 
 three leading European Zionists, Dr. Weismann, Mr. Ussishkin 
 and Dr. Schmarya Levin. From what transpired, I learned that 
 from the beginning the purpose of this convention had been to 
 oust Brandeis and his group, and this was accomplished in a very 
 crude manner. He and the other members of the Provisional Com' 
 mittee were represented to the convention as not being the type 
 of Jews that fitted in with national or political Zionism, as, it was 
 asserted, they did not practice traditional Judaism, did not know 
 Hebrew, and leaned toward assimilation. 
 
404 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 When the report of the President of the Provisional Committee, 
 Judge Julian W. Mack, was presented, one of the leading Ameri- 
 can Zionists of the Weismann group took the platform and de' 
 nounced it, paraphrasing in this connection a sentence from the 
 prophets: "From foot to head there is not a sound or healthy 
 part — everything is unsound and decayed." 
 
 For several days the discussions and arguments continued. At 
 one of the sessions, I remember, Prof. Felix Frankfurter took the 
 platform, but did not have a chance to speak his mind. He was 
 interrupted every few minutes by irrelevant questions that could 
 not be answered, such as "What did you say in 19 19?" or "What 
 was your policy three years ago?" He did not have the oppor- 
 tunity to state his case properly. 
 
 The result of all this was that a motion of "No confidence in 
 the Provisional Committee" was carried. The entire Committee 
 of about forty members, including among them some of the best 
 known men in the United States, who had kept the movement 
 alive during the trying days of the war, had to resign. They all 
 left the organisation, and the leadership was thereupon taken 
 over by the Weizmann group. The Brandeis group then formed 
 the Palestine Economic Corporation, which acts independently, 
 and takes little part in the political aspects of Zionism. 
 
 From the Cleveland convention, Dr. Weismann, Mr. Ussishkin 
 and Dr. Schmarya Levin came to Chicago. I was chairman of the 
 reception committee, and we arranged in their honor a parade of 
 various organizations, with music and flags. The aldermanic coun- 
 cil passed a resolution giving the freedom of the city to Dr. Weiv 
 mann and his associates. William Hale Thompson, who was then 
 mayor, accepted an invitation to speak at a reception to be given 
 for them, after the parade. This parade, I remember, lasted so long 
 that the Mayor had to wait for over an hour before we arrived at 
 the special platform erected for the purpose on Douglas Boulc 
 vard, facing the park. 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 405 
 
 In opening the program, I introduced Dr. Weismann as the 
 "King of Schnorrers," explaining that he went around "schnor- 
 ring" (begging) not from individuals, but from governments, and 
 that he did not "scrmonr" for individuals, but for the Jewish 
 people. I added that he had been well received by all nations of 
 Europe; that the only people who had not so far responded whole" 
 heartedly were the Jewish people. I was a little afraid, after I 
 made this remark, that it might not have been diplomatic, but 
 was reassured when at the banquet which followed, Dr. Wei2j' 
 mann used these same words. 
 
 It was a great mistake, I feel, that was made at the Cleveland 
 convention, in "reading out" the members of the Provisional 
 Committee. Had the leadership remained in their hands, or had 
 there been true cooperation between the two factions, the situa- 
 tion in Palestine, I am sure, would have been a great deal better 
 than it now is. Among the members of that committee were 
 practical men, men possessing great understanding of world affairs, 
 and also men of great learning. Now the Jewish press of the 
 United States expresses itself as proud and happy that Frank- 
 furter was appointed to the Supreme Court, extolling his great' 
 ness, and at every birthday of Justice Brandeis, the entire press 
 of the country, especially the Jewish press, does homage to this 
 great man. 
 
 I felt very disappointed that such men as Louis Lipsky, Abe 
 Goldberg and Jacob Fishman (of the New York Jewish Morning 
 Journal) should have joined in forcing out the Brandeis-Mack 
 group. In spite of this unexplainable action on their part, how- 
 ever, I consider them to be among the most able, sensible and best 
 qualified men in the movement today. 
 
 At the subsequent Zionist Congress, held at Carlsbad, wishing 
 to bring about a better feeling between the two opposing factions, 
 I drew up a resolution. It embodied a vote of thanks for the fine 
 work the Mack'Brandeis group had done during the war. Before 
 
406 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 introducing it, I notified Dr. Weizmann of my intention, but he 
 vetoed the suggestion on the grounds that my resolution "would 
 be misunderstood. " 
 
 Under the direction of men of the caliber of Brandeis and 
 Mack, events would surely have shaped themselves differently, 
 and the Zionist Organization would have undoubtedly functioned 
 more efficiently. 
 
 Soon after the Balfour Declaration was proclaimed, for 
 example, there was an influx of Jews into Palestine from all parts 
 of the world. This took place without system or control. No one 
 checked as to who the newcomers were, or what they intended 
 to do there. It did not seem to dawn upon the Zionist leaders that 
 European Jews on coming to Palestine found themselves in a 
 strange land, with a strange people — a strange environment, with 
 a different climate and different civilisation from what they had 
 known, and therefore needed advice and guidance. People simply 
 came, and acclimated themselves as best they could. It was every 
 one for himself. 
 
 All they knew was the propaganda they were fed — that "this 
 is our land, which has been promised to us," "this is our Home," 
 "this belongs to us." The leaders might have taken advice 
 and instruction from the English Colonization Bureau on how to 
 settle people in foreign countries with a different civilization. They 
 would have learned that the first thing to do was to gain the 
 friendship of the native inhabitants and win their confidence. 
 Thus a great deal of the ensuing friction could have been avoided. 
 
 To the comments that may be made that this is "hindsight" on 
 my part, I wish to affirm that as long as twelve years ago, on my 
 return from my trip to Palestine, I called the attention of Mr. 
 Louis Lipsky, then and still one of the leaders of World Zionism, 
 to these matters. I suggested to him that a special branch of the 
 Zionist Organization be opened in Palestine, whose function it 
 would be to bring about a better understanding between the Jews 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 407 
 
 and the Arabs. I proposed to several active Zionists that leaflets 
 be issued, and a newspaper published, in the language of the 
 Arabs, explaining to the Arab masses that we were their friends, 
 and not their enemies — that their true enemies were to be found 
 among their own — among the Arab land barons who wished to 
 exploit them; that the Jews were bringing wealth into the country, 
 which would result in more comforts and higher wages and better 
 living conditions for them. 
 
 I admitted that the cost of thus educating the native population 
 would come to about forty or fifty thousand dollars a year, but 
 argued that since we were raising millions every year for the 
 Keren Hayesod, it would be worth while to spend forty or fifty 
 thousand a year for this purpose. But the only reply I received 
 was: "It's too bad, but we haven't got money for it." 
 
 I also mentioned the matter to Mr. Sokolow, one of the finest 
 and most sensible of men, and one of the greatest intellects of our 
 times. 
 
 "This plan has to originate from the head of the organisation," 
 he advised me. "If someone else proposes it, it will not be 
 listened to." 
 
 Judge Harry M. Fisher, who was in Palestine the year preced- 
 ing my visit, informed me that he felt the same way about the 
 situation as I did and had spoken about it to Dr. Weismann, but 
 had received an evasive answer. 
 
 The same tactics were employed when the proposal of the parti- 
 tion of Palestine was made by England to the Zionist leaders. I 
 feel that an important matter of that sort should have been 
 handled with the utmost care, and full consideration given it 
 before any public statement was made by those speaking with 
 authority. But this was not done. No sooner had England made 
 the offer of a certain part of Palestine to be allotted to the Jews, 
 with the privilege of forming their own state, under the protec- 
 tion of England, than a flood of insults was hurled against her. 
 
408 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Some termed it "the great betrayal"; some shouted, "We were 
 sold out," and many addressed England in harsh terms. 
 
 I considered these methods wrong at the time, and am still of 
 that opinion. During this period, I wrote a long article on 
 the subject, setting forth my views, which was subsequently 
 published. 
 
 In proposing partition, England committed herself to the state' 
 ment that "Jewish National Home" meant a self-governing Jewish 
 state. As a matter of fact, the term, "Jewish National Home" 
 had never been clearly defined by any of our leaders. Every 
 Zionist leader explained it in a different way, usually very 
 vaguely. 
 
 Even Mr. Norman Bentwich, for many years attorney general 
 for the English government in Palestine, and who should certainly 
 have been able to do so, could not give us a proper definition. Five 
 or six years ago, he visited Chicago and was given a dinner by the 
 Zionist Organisation of this city, at which he spoke. He after" 
 ward called for questions, upon which I rose and asked him the 
 meaning of the phrase, "Jewish National Home." 
 
 "You can ascertain that," he replied evasively, "if you read 
 my book." 
 
 I could not help but comment that if it was necessary to read 
 a book of several hundred pages in order to secure the desired in- 
 formation, there was something wrong with the writer, with the 
 definition or with the phrase. 
 
 I was never able to get a satisfactory answer on this point. 
 The only man who clearly declared that the Jewish State meant a 
 full'fledged political state, with its own government, its own laws 
 and its own defense force, was Vladimir Jabotinsky, whom the 
 leaders of Zionism ignored and refused to take seriously. 
 
 When the question of partition was taken up at the next World 
 Zionist Congress, it was debated for many days, after which a 
 conclusion was reached which still left the matter open. If I am 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 409 
 
 not mistaken, the English government was informed that the offer 
 in the form in which it was made was unacceptable. 
 
 I believe that had the Zionist Organization, representing the 
 Zionists throughout the world, accepted England's proposition 
 then, even with some reservations, we would now have a real and 
 positive claim, because of England's commitment, and I doubt 
 whether England would have acted, as she has now, regarding 
 the Jewish situation in Palestine. 
 
 * * * 
 
 It is to my great regret that some among our Jewish leaders in 
 this country likewise acted very unwisely when the Hitler regime 
 suddenly and unexpectedly fell upon the Jews like wild beasts. 
 
 Since my childhood, I was aware that we Jews were liable to be 
 mistreated, in one way or another. At home I very often heard 
 about "burlakes," which term was applied to the Russian rabble, 
 and about the Cossacks, and listened to accounts of how they 
 sometimes fell upon Jews and robbed and mistreated them. In 
 fact, every night, before we went to sleep, we would barricade our 
 doors heavily, both summer and winter, for fear of assault. 
 
 Later on, when I had gone to Germany, I heard of special anti' 
 Jewish laws which existed in Russia, and the German Jews would 
 call conferences to discuss means of remedying the situation. 
 Then, when I came to America, we heard of pogroms in Russia, 
 upon which the American Jews, the English Jews and the German 
 Jews held conferences and used what influence they could, through 
 their business connections and the assistance of their several gov 
 ernments, to alleviate the situation. The worst pogrom was the 
 one in Kishinev, and later on we heard of other pogroms in many 
 of the cities of Russia, which lasted for several days. Occasionally, 
 we heard of outbreaks in other countries, but these were compara' 
 tively of little consequence. 
 
 At the conferences called on these occasions by our Jewish 
 leaders, many of which I attended, in both Chicago and New 
 
410 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 York, discussions were carried on as to the best means of helping 
 the Jews in Russia, and these discussions were concerned chiefly 
 with what influence could be exerted through diplomatic channels 
 and other peaceful means. Nothing was decided without calm and 
 careful deliberation. 
 
 Upon the intervention of foreign governments, as urged by the 
 Jewish citizens of those governments, Russia usually expressed her 
 regret, explained that the outrages had been committed by uncon' 
 trolled mobs, without the knowledge of the authorities; that the 
 government had intervened to subdue these mobs, and promised 
 to punish the ringleaders. 
 
 Thus, by talking things over calmly, when such an emergency 
 arose, and exerting their influence through diplomatic channels, 
 instead of through direct action, our Jewish leaders were, as a 
 rule, able to secure relief and assurances that these things would 
 not happen again. 
 
 Under Hitler, it was no longer an irresponsible mob that could 
 be called to account, but the government itself which let loose its 
 fury upon helpless, innocent Jews. The fact that the authority 
 came directly from the government, and that it was the govern' 
 ment of a nation which had been extolled as one of the most 
 cultured and enlightened nations of the world, fell like a thunder' 
 bolt, not only upon the Jews of Germany themselves, but on Jews 
 and nonjews everywhere. The press of the world was aroused at 
 this calamity, the like of which had not occurred for hundreds 
 of years. 
 
 It was to be expected that in this distressing situation, the 
 leaders of the Jews in this country, or those who considered them' 
 selves the leaders, should have carefully discussed the matter from 
 every possible angle, and conferred with other leaders, to deter' 
 mine upon the wisest way to proceed. 
 
 Unfortunately, several of these so'called leaders, acting without 
 proper authority, or due consideration, became excited and made 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 411 
 
 use of demonstrations, mass meetings, abuse and slander, and 
 finally the boycott. 
 
 There appeared on the scene our "brave" American Jews, our 
 band of Davids, who unafraid and unaided would slay the Nasi 
 giant. The vocal fire-eaters began their barrage of noise, which 
 has continued all these years, with incredible endurance — and 
 with infinite injury to our people. 
 
 With threats and defiance, with parade and protest, with 
 frenzy and clamor, these dauntless heroes sharpened and swung 
 in all directions that two-edged sword, the boycott. They gave no 
 heed to the frantic implorings of the German Jews, nor to the 
 discreet advice of persons high in the councils of government. 
 Neither did they consult responsible Jewish organizations which 
 had been in existence for many decades. 
 
 "We Jews of America must do something," they shouted, 
 through loud-speakers and headlines. "We must not be 'sha-sha' 
 men, 'mayofesnicks/ cowards, like the assimilators. We must fight 
 to the bitter end." 
 
 It did not seem to occur to these shouters that there are dif- 
 ferent ways of fighting — of gaining one's object. An example 
 of a better method is the one used in connection with the dra- 
 matic episode of which we have recently been reading in the news- 
 papers — the tragic predicament of the 907 Jewish men, women 
 and children, fleeing the Nazi inferno, marooned on a ship which 
 carried them from port to port, all refusing them refuge. So 
 desperately hopeless was the situation that several hundred of 
 the passengers formed a secret suicide pact, while several hundred 
 more patrolled the decks to avert any self-destruction . For five 
 weeks this boatload of human beings was tossed about on the 
 high seas, with no hope of haven anywhere. 
 
 Who was it that finally persuaded four nations of the world 
 to accept the wanderers, and furnished the necessary funds? Was 
 it these noisy boycotters — the self-styled "fighters for Jewish 
 
412 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 rights throughout the world"? No! It was the very persons they 
 maligned — those whom they called "Yahudim," cowards, "sha' 
 sha" men. Quietly and without fanfare, the latter went about the 
 business of rescue. 
 
 I quote here the cable received from the passengers of the S.S. 
 St. Louis by the American Joint Distribution Committee, express' 
 ing their heartfelt appreciation and gratitude to that committee 
 for effecting their deliverance: 
 
 June, 1939. 
 "Morris C. Troper 
 European Chairman 
 American Joint Distribution Committee 
 Paris (France) 
 
 "The 907 passengers of St. Louis dangling for last thirteen 
 days between hope and despair received today your liberating 
 message of the 13 th June that final arrangements for all passen' 
 gers have at last been reached. Our gratitude is as immense as 
 the ocean, on which we are now floating since May 13 th, first 
 full of hope for a good future and afterwards in the deepest 
 despair. Accept Mr. Chairman for you and for the American 
 Joint Distribution Committee, and last but not least, for the 
 governments of Belgium, Holland, France and England, the 
 deepest and eternal thanks of men, women and children united 
 by the same fate on board the St. Louis. 
 
 Committee of Passengers 
 Joseph, Chairman. ,, 
 
 This is an example of accomplishment that should cause the 
 demagogues among us to resolve to mend their ways and heed the 
 advice of these wiser men. 
 
 Indeed, it is easy to show heroism from a distance of several 
 thousand miles. The "war" against Hitler was waged with loud 
 campaigns in the largest centers of Jewish population, with mass 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 413 
 
 meetings, street demonstrations, and the public launching of the 
 boycott. 
 
 In Chicago, for instance, instead of calling together a dozen 
 outstanding communal leaders for careful planning of action (as 
 had been advised) a "committee" hastily organized a mass meet' 
 ing. As a spectacle, of a kind, it was a success. By acclamation it 
 was decided to stage a procession through the principal streets, 
 with mass meetings to follow in various sections of the city. 
 
 Anyone advising caution was shouted down. The excited people 
 would not listen. I tried to tell the audience at that first meeting 
 that we had positive information from the American Jewish 
 Committee that the Jews in Germany were bitterly opposed to 
 public demonstrations. I tried to explain that the Jewish leaders 
 in Paris, specifically authorized to speak for German Jewry, had 
 telephoned to New York, begging American Jews to refrain from 
 such expressions, since they would only incite the Nazis to greater 
 outrages. 
 
 But the audience, egged on by its demagogic leaders, would not 
 hear me. Demonstrations took place in Chicago, New York and 
 many other large cities, and a thrilling time was had by all. By 
 all, that is, except the German Jews. The boycott, publicly pro' 
 claimed and promoted, aggravated the crisis many fold. Whereas, 
 the demonstrations as such were only affronts to the sensitive 
 "Fuehrer" and his aides, the boycott threatened material injury. 
 "Judah has declared war against Germany," shrieked Goebbels. 
 "From now on it is war against all Jews, everywhere." 
 
 Goering also early issued a warning. He proclaimed to the 
 German Jews that they would be held responsible for the actions 
 of the American Jews — that if the demonstrations and other 
 measures continued, the Jews in Germany would pay dearly for it. 
 
 The political effects of the boycott within the Reich are trace 
 able by all those who will take the trouble to examine the matter. 
 On May 20, 1933, the editor of the New York "Staats-Zeitung," 
 
414 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Bernard H. Ridder, a man friendly to the Jews, published in his 
 paper an interview he had with Hitler, during which the latter 
 said: "We seised only some Jews who were identified with Com' 
 munist, Marxist, or atheistic movements, but the Jews of America 
 have declared a boycott against Germany and now we shall make 
 them pay for it." 
 
 Not only the German Jews, but Jews all over the world have 
 been jeopardised. We know that Germany is pouring out 
 millions of dollars for Nasi propaganda in the United States alone. 
 We can only imagine the vast fortune spent in spreading race 
 hatred in other parts of the world since Hitler declared war on the 
 Jews, "because of the boycott," as he and his lieutenant, Goebbels, 
 have more than once stated. 
 
 While our "leaders" have been concentrating on Germany, and 
 heroically attacking Hitler verbally from America, they have 
 shown themselves helpless against the poisonous anti-Semitic 
 propaganda spread by the hundreds of Nasi organisations in this 
 country which have rapidly been springing up. What have they 
 done to stop the spread of the myriads of anti- Jewish leaflets and 
 pamphlets which are being circulated freely in the large popula- 
 tion centers of the country, especially in New York City, the 
 stronghold of the boycotters? What did they do about the recent 
 mass meeting of 20,000 Nasis in New York City, where race 
 hatred was openly preached — and what are they doing about 
 Father Coughlin? 
 
 These Nasi activities have been strengthened by many Ameri- 
 can Germans who might have been at least noncommital but who, 
 because of the publicly-declared boycott against their Fatherland, 
 have joined the enemy camp by the thousands. Many million 
 Americans of German blood, whether anti-Hitler or not, know 
 that through the boycott the Fatherland is menaced and the suf- 
 ferings of its people, their relatives, increased. To expect German- 
 Americans to condone the boycott is therefore to expect the 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 415 
 
 unnatural. Thus, in America, we have millions of Germans, 
 formerly neutral, who are now retaliating against the Jews. Make 
 no mistake about it — whether openly or secretly, directly or 
 indirectly, the "counter-boy cott" goes on! 
 
 What is particularly sad, is that all the hullabaloo was unneces- 
 sary. In reality, a boycott already existed before our "machers," 
 our notoriety seekers, shouted it from the housetops. Most Jews 
 and many non-Jews were spontaneous in their refusal to buy Ger- 
 man products. What would have been the wiser course would 
 have been to have helped the non-Jews organize the boycott care- 
 fully among those interested and concerned, and not to have 
 blazoned forth and flaunted our leadership. 
 
 Signs had not been wanting that world public opinion had been 
 aroused and was having its effect on the Nazi brutes. The press 
 described with horror the outrages committed against the Jews, 
 and the liberal non-Jewish elements condemned the Hitler terror 
 and called for help for its victims. 
 
 The widespread concern manifested by governments and peo- 
 ples, together with the strong stand taken by Cabinet Minister 
 Dr. Schacht, plainly had a restraining effect in this early period. 
 For awhile, a moderation in policy was noticeable. The troubles 
 of German Jewry, though far from over, seemed to be steadily 
 decreasing. There was ground for hoping that in time the hound- 
 ing and baiting of Jews would die out in the Reich. All observa- 
 tion and reliable information supported this hope. And everyone 
 interested began to feel relieved and encouraged. 
 
 In our own country, the Secretary of State, Cordell Hull, fol- 
 lowing representations made to him by Dr. Cyrus Adler, head of 
 the American Jewish Committee, had instructed the American 
 embassy in Berlin to have the consulates in the principal cities of 
 Germany investigate and report to him with a view to extending 
 aid. Later Mr. Hull stated in a letter to Dr. Adler that his reports 
 indicated that the German Government had ordered physical 
 
416 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 attacks upon Jews stopped, that Hitler and Minister von Papen 
 had appealed to their followers to halt the "hooligan" persecution, 
 on the ground that it was bringing down discredit upon the new 
 regime and seriously embarrassing it in its relations with other 
 countries. 
 
 It might be well to mention here, for the information of the 
 reader, some facts about the American Jewish Committee, which 
 has indicated its opposition to the boycott. 
 
 This organisation has been in existence for thirty-odd years, and 
 has been composed of Jews of the finest type — men of high stand' 
 ing and great influence, men of learning, men prominent in in- 
 dustry and in the professions — men of great responsibility. 
 
 The present head of the organisation, Dr. Cyrus Adler, is 
 president of Dropsie College, of Philadelphia, president of the 
 Jewish Theological Seminary of New York, and one of the leaders 
 of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, which 
 raised about $125,000,000 to relieve the distress of the war suf- 
 ferers, following the World War. He is a man whose voice carries 
 weight with our government and with the leading Jews through' 
 out the world. Preceding him in the presidency of the American 
 Jewish Committee was the well-known late Louis Marshall. 
 
 This Committee, which was organised after the Kishinev 
 pogrom, has for its purpose the protection of the civil and re- 
 ligious rights of Jews throughout the world, and has direct connec- 
 tions with similar organisations in other countries. 
 
 The B'nai BVith, the oldest Jewish organisation in the world, 
 and the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, also did 
 not approve of the boycott. Many other responsible and promi- 
 nent groups and individuals, have expressed themselves at one 
 time or another as strongly against the boycott. Among the 
 latter is the well-known scholar and author, Rabbi Solomon Gold- 
 man, who is now president of the Zionist Organisation of 
 America, and Judge Harry M. Fisher, who had argued that 
 
Cartoon appearing in a Chicago newspaper, on the occasion of Dr. Ch< 
 Weizmann's visit to this city in the summer of 1921. 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 417 
 
 through the boycott we were playing into the hands of the Nasis, 
 since this gave them justification for continued persecutions. 
 
 From various reliable sources, we had information that the 
 majority of the Germans in Germany were at first opposed to the 
 anti-Semitic policy of the Hitler government; but after the boycott 
 was declared, there was a change of attitude, and these same 
 Germans were led to believe that now the Hitler regime was 
 justified in its program. 
 
 Since Hitler's accession to power, several Zionist World Con- 
 gresses have been held, representing practically all the countries in 
 the world, especially the European countries. At none of these 
 Congresses was any mention made of the boycott, and there was 
 never any indication that the World Zionist Organisation was in 
 favor of it. Further, although it was known that Palestine was 
 transacting business with Germany to the extent of about five 
 million dollars a year, no criticism was ever made of these activities 
 at any of the Congresses. 
 
 In an article published in the April, 1939, issue of the Cosmo- 
 politan magazine, Karl H. Von Wiegand, famous American for- 
 eign correspondent who has known Hitler intimately, writes as 
 follows, concerning interviews he had with him in connection 
 with the Jewish situation: 
 
 "Adolph Hitler considers himself at war with World Jewry. 
 Jews, he holds, have attempted to frustrate some of his plans. He 
 maintains that they are responsible for a far-reaching boycott of 
 German goods. It has affected the German export trade. That is 
 striking at him. 
 
 "There is no 'turning the other cheek' about Hitler. He strikes 
 back. He can strike the sixteen million Jews in the world only 
 through the half million in Germany, so he hits them. Women, 
 children, aged — it matters not. To him there are none innocent 
 if they are Jews. Out of the Reich! Hitler's curse is on them. 
 
418 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 "It has been difficult to approach him on the subject of modify 
 ing the decrees against the Jews. He becomes infuriated. A large 
 section of opinion in the army is against the persecution of the 
 Jews — not out of love of the Jews but for the very practical rea- 
 son that it has brought the world down on Germany; that only 
 twenty years after the war Germany is again facing an outraged 
 world. That means nothing to Hitler. Defiance simply steels his 
 determination, his will, an uncontrollable will that is in process 
 of becoming his master. 
 
 "Large sections of the German people of all classes from the 
 lowest to the highest, even high functionaries in the Nasi party, 
 have been shocked by some of the decrees against the Jews and 
 by the methods of persecution. The vast majority of Germans 
 want to live at peace and in friendly relations with the world. 
 They desire the world's respect. To those sections, the Jewish 
 persecution is something counterfeit German." 
 
 Through personal experience, I am aware of the attitude of the 
 Jews in Germany toward the methods adopted by the Jews in 
 America. I was in Germany in 1933, six months after Hitler had 
 come into power. 
 
 It happened to be during the High Holidays, and I attended 
 Yom Kippur services at the Orianenburg Synagogue, in Berlin, 
 which I understand is the largest synagogue in Germany. It holds 
 about thirty-five hundred people. Contrary to the general opinion 
 that all German Jews are Reformed, it is surprising to discover 
 that the services in this great synagogue are conducted along 
 strictly Orthodox lines. The only "Reformed" note is that an 
 organ is used. The prayer books are exactly like those we use in 
 our Orthodox services here, except that they are printed in Ger- 
 man on one side and in Hebrew on the other. The men and 
 women do not sit together, the women sitting in the balcony. 
 Both wear head coverings, and the men wear prayer shawls. Dur- 
 ing the Yom Kippur services, no one leaves his place, but remains 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 419 
 
 the entire day, fasting and praying. I, too, as a visitor, was pro- 
 vided with prayer book and prayer shawl. 
 
 I want to emphasise that these were the usual services, as I 
 had witnessed them several times previously in the same 
 synagogue. 
 
 On this occasion, Rabbi Warshauer officiated, and the scene 
 was a most sad and impressive one. 
 
 "Alas," he said, "many of us are not here to pray with us. 
 Many are missing, innocent victims of untrue accusations. We 
 are charged with all kinds of crimes, which our accusers know to 
 be not true. But it must be the will of Providence, as it is writ- 
 ten." And as the entire congregation wept with him, he intoned 
 the age-old chant: 
 
 "On the first day of the year it is inscribed, and on the day 
 of atonement the decree is sealed, who shall live and who shall 
 die, who shall perish by fire, and who by water, who by wild 
 beasts and who by the sword, who by hunger and who by thirst, 
 who by strangling and who by stoning, who shall have rest and 
 who shall go wandering." 
 
 When he concluded, the floor was actually wet with the silent 
 tears of those gathered there. 
 
 So deeply was I affected that I did not sleep that night, and the 
 memory of this heart-rending scene has remained vividly with me. 
 
 After the fast and the services, I went to visit the office of the 
 Central Verein in Berlin, which organisation represents and 
 speaks for all the Jews in Germany. 
 
 I wished to discuss with the leaders of the organisation the 
 possibilities of help for them from the American Jews. To my 
 queries, they gave but one answer: 
 
 "Let the Jews of America send us financial help for our unem- 
 ployed and starving. Any other help we do not want — otherwise 
 they cannot help, they can only harm us!" 
 
420 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 I urged that there must be some additional way in which we 
 could assist them, but at this, they exclaimed: "For God's sake, 
 tell the American Jews that if they cannot help us financially, they 
 should leave us alone!" 
 
 I was amazed at the change that had come over Germany 
 during the six months since Hitler's accession to power. On my 
 previous visit, some nine months before, I had seen happy-looking 
 people moving freely and undisturbed about the streets, busily 
 occupied with their affairs. Now I beheld faces that bore the 
 imprint of anxiety and bewilderment. The people moved about 
 as though in a daze, as though not yet entirely able to grasp the 
 calamity that had befallen them. They spoke to each other in 
 whispers, and regarded their fellows with distrust. This, I may 
 add, was true, not of the Jews only, but of the vast populace of 
 native Germans. 
 
 There was no gaiety anywhere — the music had been stilled 
 in restaurants and cafes — and over everything had settled a 
 deadly pall. A definite feeling of tension was in the air, and every 
 one went about as though dreading what the next moment might 
 bring. 
 
 Above all, one sound filled the streets — the sound of march' 
 ing men. They seemed to be everywhere — always marching, 
 marching. 
 
 During my stay of ten days, I was nervous and uneasy, and 
 anxious to get away. Two days before I left Germany, however, 
 a rather pleasant incident occurred, which cheered me a little. 
 I had stopped over in Wuerzburg on business, and finishing 
 around five o'clock, I paused for tea in a cafe. A young man in 
 Nazi uniform suddenly approached my table, and gave the Nazi 
 salute. He asked whether I knew him, and I informed him that I 
 did not. Though not exactly frightened, I must confess I was 
 rather disturbed. 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 421 
 
 The young man thereupon reminded me that about two years 
 before, he had been standing before the door of that very cafe, 
 one evening, during a heavy rainstorm, when I entered. He had 
 asked my permission to go inside with me, as though accompany 
 ing me, so that he might sit for a while in the warm room. I had 
 assented and allowed him to sit with me at my table. Upon heap 
 ing his story, that he was penniless, hungry, cold and out of work, 
 and had a sick mother at home, I had ordered food for him and 
 given him two marks with which to buy some food for his mother. 
 
 As the youth talked, I recalled the incident. I complimented 
 him on how he had grown since that time, and how manly he now 
 looked. The young man then called over three of his companions, 
 recounted the incident to them, and thanked me, in their presence, 
 for the kindness I had shown him. They all saluted me graciously 
 as they left. 
 
 The friendliness of these young fellows relieved to some extent 
 the dreariness I experienced during those ten miserable days in 
 Germany. I could not help but realise, however, what a terrible 
 thing the new regime was doing in taking such decent, friendly 
 youngsters and gradually turning them into brutes, destroying in 
 them all humane feeling. 
 
 The proponents of direct action will protest that the Nazi 
 leadership would have pursued the same murderous course against 
 us no matter what we did or left undone. That is mere specula' 
 tion. We cannot guess what might have been. But even assuming 
 that the Hitler program could not have been swerved, the question 
 is still whether our boycott has been beneficial or harmful to the 
 Jewish people. I submit that on its record the fcfc Jewish-led^ "* boycott 
 has hurt our people a thousand times more than it has hurt our 
 enemies. Wherever the Nazis have seized power, as in Austria, 
 Czechoslovakia, etc., the Jews are suffering torture and death. 
 
422 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Their evil influence has penetrated into other countries, and even 
 into Palestine. 
 
 I have termed it a fc fc Jewish-led" 1 "* boycott. We know that the 
 American Federation of Labor and other groups have at various 
 times declared for an anti-Nazi boycott, and we also know that 
 on the basis of numbers, the Jews cannot be responsible for more 
 than a minor fraction of the resulting reduction in German export 
 trade. But because of the hue and cry raised by the Jewish boycott' 
 leaders, our people have been "credited" with all the economic 
 difficulties resulting, and in reprisal, ever more fiendish schemes 
 have been launched against Germany's Jews. 
 
 The boycotters retort, "What would you have us do — take 
 it 'lying down 1 — allow them to trample on us?" The answer is 
 that it is not "us" but the Jews of Germany who are prostrate and 
 being trampled on. Why were not they consulted? They were con' 
 sistently, frantically opposed, not only to the boycott, but even to 
 protest meetings. 
 
 What do we do when a loved one is in the hands of kid' 
 nappers? Or when we are held up at the point of a gun? What 
 would you think of the advice to "make a fight of it?" What 
 would you think of the person giving such advice from a safe 
 distance? 
 
 Yes, the boycott is a grandiose gesture — but the odds are 
 hopeless. The results are closely analagous to those in the case of 
 a kidnapping or holdup. Let those who urged heroics against our 
 barbaric persecutors consider that the population of Germany is 
 seventy million, with thirty million more Germans in other coun' 
 tries, with a strong, ruthless government behind them, while we 
 Jews total sixteen million, scattered about, disunited, and without 
 government backing. Let our magniloquent defi'hurlers consider 
 another simple fact: England, France, Russia and other powers 
 have repeatedly suffered injury and humiliation from the Nazis. 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 423 
 
 But because they felt they could not afford a fight, they have not 
 struck back, nor even "talked back." 
 
 It is of interest to know that the Catholics did not officially 
 declare a boycott, although they likewise have suffered perseoi' 
 tion by Hitler and his followers. Hundreds of nuns and priests 
 were imprisoned, church property confiscated and Catholic 
 schools closed, yet no boycott was advocated. We can surmise 
 what the effect of such a declaration by the Pope would have been 
 on the Hitler regime. I think it can be taken for granted that the 
 reason the Pope refrained from taking such a step was that he 
 feared that by doing so, the welfare of the twenty or twenty-five 
 million Catholics in Germany would be seriously endangered. 
 
 The heroics which these great powers cannot afford, we Jews 
 apparently can! 
 
 There are those who will say it is easy to be wise after the 
 event — that no one could have foreseen developments. Yet it is 
 not a case of "hindsight." The consequences of the boycott were 
 predicted by those of us who tried to prevent this dangerous 
 blunder. The boycott leaders would not listen and the masses could 
 not hear us because of the din raised by those leaders. 
 
 I remember stepping into a boycott meeting over five years ago, 
 where a supply of boycott stamps was being passed out. These 
 were of a violent and ugly character, and I felt it would be a 
 grave mistake to circulate them. I pleaded that they be destroyed 
 and that new stamps be printed merely bearing the words, "For 
 the benefit of German refugees. " I offered to pay the cost, amount- 
 ing to several hundred dollars. But I was overruled. The unsightly 
 stamps, with their aggressive legend and offensive illustration, 
 were widely distributed. I am sure they did incalculable damage. 
 
 Oh well, some may say, the boycott leaders meant well. So did 
 the bear who flattened his master's face when he killed a bee on 
 the master's nose. 
 
424 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 Why wouldn't they — why won't they — be guided by those 
 who know intimately the situation in Germany, the condition of 
 the German Jews, the make-up of the Nasi overlords and masses? 
 
 What is to be done now? Can anything be done? At this 
 writing, of course, it may be too late for anything to help. Yet the 
 situation, in my opinion, might have been alleviated if, earlier, 
 there had been a complete reversal of policy and the boycott and 
 its leaders utterly and entirely repudiated. Whether this would 
 have been of any consequence is problematical. However, we still 
 have nothing to lose, and perhaps much to gain, by even now 
 repudiating the boycott and its instigators. 
 
 At any rate, at present, we ought to concentrate on raising 
 money for the needy and oppressed abroad. In addition, constant 
 and untiring effort is necessary to induce governments and groups 
 to intercede for us, to ameliorate conditions wherever possible. 
 
 Our policy should be one of defending and not offending. We 
 must regain a demeanor and conduct that will unceasingly appeal 
 to the conscience of the world. We must drop all aggressiveness 
 and restore, in its place, our age-old policy of "dignified endur- 
 ance." 
 
 An aggressive policy on our part can only serve to immobilise 
 and even alienate our non- Jewish friends, who might otherwise 
 help through economic, political or educational channels. If we 
 insist on taking things into our own hands, we undo the efforts at 
 "wire-pulling" or diplomatic pressure by "friends at court" — by 
 statesmen or diplomats of nations wielding incomparably greater 
 power and influence than our mistaken leaders can aspire to in the 
 world's affairs. 
 
 There is also involved here a factor affecting the masses at large. 
 Though intangible, this factor is of transcendent importance, be- 
 cause in our struggle, the attitude of the world's millions will in 
 the long run prove decisive. When one who is attacked strikes 
 back aggressively, he somehow forfeits the sympathy and aid 
 
I DRAW A FEW CONCLUSIONS 425 
 
 offered by onlookers to the weak and helpless. Witness the quick 
 proffer of assistance to the child, the aged, the crippled, just 
 because they cannot fight back. 
 
 In the history of the last two thousand years, the Jew has never 
 before fought back. His only defense has been prayer and resigna- 
 tion. In that role, against the background of his history and his 
 service to civilisation, the Jew has aroused compassion in the finer 
 spirits of mankind, and even among the meaner he commanded a 
 certain respect. That is how he has been enabled to survive. But 
 now, as the self-sufficient and even arrogant killer of giants, he has 
 stepped out of character, and his would-be helpers are constrained 
 to let him find his own salvation. 
 
 Our aim is not to destroy Hitlerism, but to survive it. We 
 cannot destroy Nazism. That is the world's job, and let us hope 
 it will be accomplished soon. 
 
 Alone, as a small fragment of the world's population, we are 
 lost in battle. One of our vital aims must be to reawaken the con- 
 science of others, and in the meantime exercise self-control and 
 silent endurance. 
 
 However, there is one weapon we can use — and that is the 
 weapon of propaganda. With all our strength, we should utilize 
 every means to make the accomplishments of the Jews throughout 
 history known to the world, especially their achievements in Ger- 
 many, in science, music, medicine, literature, etc. And these are 
 legion. For example, it was a non-Jew who said recently, referring 
 to pre-Hitler Germany, that if the Jewish contributions were taken 
 away from Germany, little of its greatness would be left. 
 
 That is the sort of fight to which we must devote our energies — 
 a fight for ourselves, and not against someone else. Therein con- 
 sists the difference between our present course and the program 
 I am proposing. The latter is the surest road to victory. 
 
 The spirit underlying this program is indicated in two little 
 anecdotes with which I shall conclude. 
 
426 MY FIRST EIGHTY YEARS 
 
 When in January of last year, the Orthodox Rabbis, convened 
 in Atlantic City, publicly wept and prayed for the Jews of Ger' 
 many, they were far wiser and more practical than those who 
 disdain such "empty words." The impressive proceedings, if 
 earnestly publicised, would accomplish more good than boycott 
 
 ballyhoo. 
 
 In Berlin, on a Jewish holiday, Nasi officials invaded a syna' 
 gogue and demanded hidden arms. Pointing to the Ark holding 
 the Holy Scrolls, the Rabbi answered, "There you will find our 
 hidden arms, the only weapons the Jews possess." 
 
 The verdict of the centuries is with these Rabbis. "They that 
 live by the sword shall perish by the sword." Prayer, patience, 
 endurance, education, are our only effective weapons. 
 
 THE END 
 
I close these memoirs with the sincere hope that the readers of 
 this boo\ have enjoyed accompanying me in these pages through 
 "my first eighty years." Especially do I hope that the present 
 members of my family and their descendants, in reading of these 
 trials and anxieties, of the joys and sorrows of their ancestors, may 
 come to better understand them, and themselves. I shall be greatly 
 pleased if from these recorded experiences they glean something 
 that shall be of value to them in their own lives in the 
 years to come. 
 
ERRATA 
 
 (Author deeply regrets the following omissions and errors) : 
 
 Page 354. In listing the names of Harris 1 children, the name of his 
 son, Louis, was inadvertently omitted. Harris left seven children, not six. 
 Louis Horwich is a worthy son of his brilliant father. By profession he is 
 an architect., although at present he is in the manufacturing business. He is 
 an earnest Hebrew scholar, and in spite of the many demands upon his time, 
 continues his studies. He married Celia Friedlen, a very fine woman, and 
 
 they have four children. 
 
 * * * 
 
 In the chapter on Zionism, the author neglected to mention the well 
 known affiliated youth organization, Avukah. This group has branches in 
 
 universities throughout the country and has a farTeaching cultural program. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Among the first women active in Zionism was Miss Emilia Jerusalim' 
 sky. When but a young girl, she acted as secretary of the original group, 
 the Knights of Zion, and subsequently became president of Clara de Hirsch 
 
 branch. 
 
 * * * 
 
 In the chapter on Leading Chicago Zionists, the name of A. Z. Hah 
 perin was regrettably omitted. For many years he was an active and valued 
 member of the Zionist Organization, and at one time was chairman of a 
 drive for the Keren Hayesod, raising a large amount of money. He himself 
 
 has been a liberal contributor to the cause. 
 
 * * * 
 
 The author neglected to mention Mrs. Minnie Specter, a distant rek' 
 tive, who was also related to the Rabbi Ishaya mentioned in the early part 
 of the book. She is particularly worthy of mention for her fine character, 
 as indicated in her return recently to the author of the sum of $100.00, 
 which he had given to her over twentyfive years ago, when she was in need 
 of assistance. He had neither expected its return, nor did he remember the 
 
 incident until she recalled it to him. 
 
 * * * 
 
 The name of Judge Hugo M. Friend, one of our outstanding jurists, 
 
 should have been included among Chicagoans active in public welfare work. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Page 113. Itze Note is survived by two fine daughters, Hulda David' 
 son and Minnie Breakstone, both of whom reside in New York. Itze Note 
 had a brother, named Moishe Chaim, who became a prominent dress manu' 
 f acturer. Those of his children known to the author are : Mrs. Jacob Lunitz, 
 
 Mrs. Rosa Epstein, and Max Horowitz, of New York. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Page 223. The name, "Abe Klonek" (in the second line from the 
 
 top) is incorrectly spelled. It should read, "A. J. Clonick. ,, 
 
 * * * 
 
 Page 234. The name, "Abe Kahn," in the 15th line from the top, 
 
 should be "Ab Cahan." 
 
 * * * 
 
 Page 352. The date of Harris 1 death should be April 5, 1920. 
 

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