PROLOGUE
Here is a common story told by thousands and thousands of Jews from Russia, Romania, Poland,
and many other places in Eastern Europe. There were so many wars going
on, the borders of these countries changed almost daily. One day the
city of Lodz was in Poland, the next day it was part of Prussia. At
the same time there were many “pogroms,” the chasing and
sometimes killing of people for no reason other than a vague anger without
a suitable object. So they got out when they could, often in covered wagons in the middle of the night. Your grandmother's family was in one of those wagons.
1908
Chicago. Or New York. Or Philadelphia, Los Angeles, Cleveland,
or many other cities across America. There were enclaves of Jews from
eastern Europe as there had been enclaves of Germans and Sicilians and
Chinese and there would some day be enclaves of Cubans and Russians.
Always the same story. Families were escaping persecution all over the
world. But this story takes place in Chicago. Your grandmother’s
grandmother and grandfather and their nine children and their children’s
husbands and wives and their children joined the neighborhood on the
west side of Chicago. Everyone spoke Jewish just as in the next neighborhood
Italian was the common language and nearby others spoke the language
of their origin. Not until children went to school did English become standard. The children
taught their new language to the parents but their parents would have
foreign accents forever. Now everyone looked for jobs to have money
to pay for their little apartments and their food. In Russia the Oberman
family had a big orchard and a smaller vegetable garden. They sold most
of the fruit and ate all the vegetables. Grandfather Oberman was a bootmaker
also, so they had all they needed. But in Chicago they would have to
find jobs
Grandmothers
and Grandfathers and Mothers and Fathers and Children and Grandchildren and Cousins and Nieces and Nephews
When your grandmother’s grandfather’s father went to your
grandmother’s grandmother’s father and said I will give
you this beautiful new gold watch that you can wear in your vest pocket
if you will please marry my daughter, your grandmother’s grandfather
said sure I will marry your daughter. I would do anything to have such
a beautiful gold watch! There were so many mothers and fathers and aunts
and uncles and sons and daughters and nieces and nephews that the two
cousins who were to be married had never even met each other. Well,
they met soon enough, were married and produced about sixteen children.
In those days babies 
were like puppies or kittens; some lived and many
did not. Their oldest daughter, Yetta, had fourteen children grow up
and Molly had sixteen. Fanny was more modern and had only three. The
twins Jake and Herman didn’t have so many either. Joe and his
wife couldn’t have any, so when Lillian died while having her
sixth child, that little girl was given to Joe. Molly’s husband
also died, so, as was the custom then, Molly married Lillian’s
husband, Abe, and they put all their children together. Twenty-one!!!!
Charlie and Bertha were too young to be married until they came to America.
Not all the Jews in Chicago were from Russia; some were from Poland
and other places. When Bertha walked to work at the factory there was a tall dark handsome man from Lodz, Poland who noticed how pretty Bertha
was. He would run outside the barber shop where he cut hair and he would
talk to Bertha when she walked by. Soon they were walking together. The handsome man was seventeen years old. His name was Harry Talman.
Alleys
So here we are in the alley on the west side of Chicago. Watch out for
the huge horse turds! Charlie fed his horse well, so the horse would
be strong enough to pull a big wagon full of bottles 
of milk and packages
of butter. There were no bottles of cream because the milk wasn’t
homogenized, meaning mixed so hard the cream would be absorbed by the
milk. Instead, the cream, being fatter and lighter, rose to the top
of the bottle. The cook spooned the cream out, used it any way you would
use cream, and the rest was skimmed milk. “Skimmed” because
someone skimmed off the cream. Sometimes it took two horses to pull
the huge vegetable wagon down the alley. The knife-sharpener had only
a cart and he just pushed it; he didn’t need a horse. The rag
man only used a horse if his business was very good and he needed a
big wagon. But the ice-man! He sometimes had four horses 
to pull an
enormous wagon. It was really a truck, not open like a wagon. The ice-man
was always a big strong man because he had to grip a hunk of ice - the
size of his back - with a sort of huge pliers, then carry it up as far
as the third floor and put it in the ice-box. Did you think we had refrigerators
way back then? The ice went in the top compartment and the food went
in the bottom . During winter not so much ice was needed because the
milk could be put on the window sill or even outside. As you can see,
the alley was crowded. It was also noisy because these sellers of vegetables,
fruit, milk, butter, and ice, the knife sharpeners and rag buyers had
to let everyone know they were coming by. So they yelled on the top
of their voices. Just like the newspaper boys yelled paper! paper! read
all about it! in front of the houses, so we heard bananas! oranges!
spinach! come and get it! behind the houses.
Good
and Bad
The Oberman family grew even larger and that was good. But sometimes
the family became smaller and that was terrible. Molly’s husband
died. Fanny’s husband died and then her new husband died also,
and long after that her third husband died. You remember that after
Lillian died, her husband Abe married Molly, but then he too died. Worst
of all, Yetta’s fourteen children included two out of three who
were born at once - triplets. One died at birth, but something much
worse happened to the other two little girls. When they were quite small
they were playing with matches. There was just a little fire, but it
was enough and one of the girls died. Adeline, the last of the three
girls, felt so bad about this that forever, all her life, she felt sad.
Everyone tried to make her feel better, but nothing helped. She was
sad forever.
Charlie wanted to have a wife and children also. One day when he was
delivering milk to a woman with many children he noticed a girl who was as round as she was high and
as sweet as she was pretty. Now this was not like Russia where your mother and father decided who you
would marry. You could have your pick of husband or wife. Charlie thought
round Minnie would be a very good pick indeed. He wanted to havehealthy well-fed children as round as Minnie. Minnie loved the milkman,
so they were married and had three children. First came skinny Beverly, then skinnier Seymour, and
finally, much later, they had skinniest Charlotte. Now the only Oberman
who had not yet married was Bertha.
When Harry first saw Bertha she was only twelve years old, but they
promised each other then that they would marry when they were old enough.
Four years later they were old enough and only one year later, when
Bertha was seventeen, handsome
skinny Harry Talman and beautiful Bertha had their first fat son. They
were 
delighted, so immediately they had
another one, even fatter. Lee and Jack Talman were not only brothers
- they were the best of friends. They played together all the time;
they shared the same bed; they even had their own private language that
the cousins couldn’t understand. Lee looked just like Harry and
Jack looked just like Bertha but it was hard to say which was the most
handsome. They were big strong smart boys. One day Jack got sick, very
sick, and had to go to the hospital so the doctors and nurses could
try to cure him. Lee wasn’t allowed to visit him in the hospital,
but there was a “fire escape,” - metal steps on the outside
of the building - that went right by Jack’s hospital window. Everyday
after school Lee sneaked up those stairs and sat outside Jack’s
window until dark. Nowadays when a child is sick from leukemia, he can
be given medicine that cures him, but way back then there were no such
medicines. Jack was six and one half years old when he died. Very many
years later Lee named his first child Jacki after his very loved brother.
Harry and Bertha waited nine years before they decided it was time to
have a little girl. Not quite. Marvin was born, not so plump as Lee
and Jack and not so strong. Doctors had to fix his leg which was bent
the wrong way and Bertha had to carry him for six years. By then he
not only could walk just fine, but even ride a bicycle. He was very
careful never to ride on the streets, so a car had to come up on the
sidewalk to hit him. So back into Bertha’s arms he went for a
while. But then he got better and could run and play all he wanted.
He stayed away from bicycles, but he had a pair of roller skates and gave one skate to Ruth. So they both skated all over the sidewalks of Chicago.
Although there were some very sad deaths, the family had grown so much they were running out of names and began doubling up. There was big Minnie and Molly’s daughter, little Minnie, Big Bertha and another Molly’s daughter, little Bertha, or was that Sadie’s daughter? How many Bellas were there? Herman’s wife who was almost deaf and who was the other one? Who can remember how many Sallys there were and Mildreds (the one with the big nose) and Janices. Only one Frank and only one Daniel - Fanny’s son. All the cousins lived in the same neighborhood and they were all each other’s best friends. There were now hundreds of Obermans, although some of the names changed to Talman and Stein and about twenty other names.
Generation’s
Last Baby
When Lillian died, everyone wanted her new baby girl. Bertha pleaded
for her because Bertha had had three sons and very much wanted a daughter.
But Bertha’s brother Joe had no children at all and the other
brothers and sisters agreed that it wouldn’t be right to give
the baby to Bertha. So 
what could Bertha do? If she had had three daughters
she would certainly have welcomed a little boy, but after three boys
she was taking a chance that she might have a fourth boy and still no
girl. She took that chance and the final baby of all the brothers and
sisters was born. Happy Bertha and happy Harry! Now they had a little
girl. Bertha began sewing and knitting and crocheting; little Ruth was
the best dressed frilly little girl the family had ever seen. Everyone
marveled at all the pink and white and yellow lacy dresses and bonnets
and booties put on Bertha’s little doll. When Ruth could sit up,
a big furniture company paid Bertha for
putting her baby in one of their high chairs to be photographed. When
people saw the photo in the newspaper, they bought more high chairs.
Certainly Ruth made her mother and father very pleased. For a while.
Ruth was almost nine months old when she stood up and walked, and stumbled,
and ran, and tripped and got up and stumbled and ran some more. She
didn’t stop except when she fell in mud puddles or tore her lacy
little dresses on 
the bushes she ran into. Bertha would wash Ruth and
put some more pretty little clothes on her, but in less than five minutes
the lovely dainty little girl that Bertha had always wished for turned
into a rough and tumble muddy creature. (See the doll in the pic to the left. It was Ruth's only doll, but Marvin wanted to find out how it said *mama.* End of doll and lots of tears.) So Harry and Bertha looked at
their little girl and thought and thought and talked it over and decided
they had a delightful puppy instead of the dainty little thing they had planned. And to this day
Ruth is still a rough and tumble muddy creature, running and stumbling,
biking and swimming, tripping, and getting up and going on, happily. Is this so very long ago? Let’s
think about it. Today is 1995. It was seventy years ago that Jack died.
That does seem like forever. But think of this. Jack was the uncle of
Dan Kazez! Just like Will Kazez is the uncle of Benny Kazez. From Benny
to Uncle Will is not forever. From Dan to Uncle Jack could not be forever
either. But yes, it was a long time ago. I will tell you about another
twenty years and then this story will be in the hands of Dan Kazez.
But for now, there is no Dan or Will or Jean. And certainly no Benny,
Rachel, Joey, or Arianna, or Who is yet to come.
(Now it is 2005 and we KNOW who was yet to come!!
Do YOU know who else would be here in a couple years?)
The
Second Day of School
There was no first day of school for Ruth. The night before what should
have been the first day was a time of serious learning. Harry sat down
with his little girl - who he called the apple of his eye - and showed
her how to tie her shoes. Make one bow, not two, until you get the hang
of it. Then he taught Ruth how to tell time. That’s what you had
to know to go to school. In the morning Bertha made sure Ruth dressed
herself early so she wouldn’t be late for this important day.
Then Bertha took Ruth by the hand to go to school. No! No, no, no. Ruth screamed she was big now,
she didn’t need her mother to take her to school like a baby!
Then Bertha insisted all the children were taken to school the first
day and after that she could go alone. Well, they spent a long time
arguing and no one won the argument. Ruth stayed home. The next morning
Bertha said o.k. Ruth could go alone. Ruth was happy and flew out the
door. She never once looked behind and so never saw her mother following
her down the street because of course you can’t begin school without your mother coming
the first day.
The kindergarten room was very large, with three long tables each surrounded
by about sixteen chairs. The first table was near the door and next
to a big wonderful doll house, so big you could almost get inside. Ruth
loved dolls and had had only one, and that one for a very short time,
because brother Marvin wanted to see what made the doll say Mama. Ruth was only about
two years old and the baby doll was almost as big as she was and the
hole in the middle of the doll where it used to say Mama was the size
of a baseball. So you can imagine how thrilling it was for Ruth to see
the house and all the dolls and doll clothes and little furniture. There
were only girls at that table. The second table had both boys and girls
sitting around it, but there wasn’t anything special near the
table because it was between the first and third tables. Only boys sat
at the third table, so Ruth didn’t think she would like that.
But Ruth missed the first day when everyone
was given seats and now she had no choice; she would have to sit at
the bottom corner of the third table, far from the other girls and very
far from the doll house. And then something special happened. Ruth looked
around for something to do and there, right next to the table was a
huge box as long as a man and even wider. Ruth had to get on her toes
to get her hands down inside the box. It was full of sticky wet gray
stuff. Ruth didn’t even know the stuff was called clay. She could
take all she wanted from the huge box and squish it every way and pile
it up high and roll it in balls and poke holes in it and make bumps
on it and dump it all back in, take out some more and start over again.
When Ruth went to school the next day (without her mother, thank goodness)
she was told she could sit with all the girls near the doll house. Ruth
looked at the teacher as if she was nuts. She ran over to her seat next
to the clay bin. Everyday the teacher tried to get Ruth to move, with
no success. Finally Bertha was called to school to help Ruth understand
that she didn’t have to sit with a bunch of dumb boys, that she
belonged at the first table. Ruth didn’t want to argue about it;
she just pretended not to hear and went to her favorite place. Ruth
didn’t even know that on that first (second) day of school, Ruth’s
whole life was decided. Forever and ever without stop Ruth would be
making things with her eyes and hands. Your grandmother
Ruth is still doing today what she did that day.
Chicken
Soup, Etc.
Ruth and Bertha and Harry and Marvin and Bertha’s very old mother
lived in one of six apartments in a building in the neighborhood of
Chicago called Albany Park. Lee had been married to Fay four years ago
and lived somewhere else. The apartment had a bedroom, living room,
kitchen, a sort of 
dining room between the living room and kitchen,
a bathroom, and a tiny back porch big enough for the garbage can and
the milk bottles. Steps led down to the busy alley. The kitchen was
of course a favorite place to play. One day when Bertha was out, Ruth
came home from school instead of going to the playground at River Park.
She decided she would make some soup. It was the first time Ruth ever
cooked anything. Because Ruth was only five or maybe six years old,
she couldn’t read, so she guessed what all the packages said.
After putting into a pot of water all the veggies from the ice box,
and after seeing her soup didn’t look quite right, Ruth climbed
onto the kitchen table and grabbed a box of tapioca and a box of something
red. The taste was not good at all It occurred to Ruth that her mother
might not be all that pleased with her cooking, so she dumped the whole
mess in the garbage can. A lot of the “soup” dripped down
the porches below and down to the alley. Later, when Bertha was returning
home through the alley, she saw the red puddle in the alley and looked
up and saw HORRORS! the red was coming from her apartment. Red! Oh no!
Blood! Oh, her little girl! What terrible thing has happened to her
baby? When Bertha raced up the three flights of stairs and saw her messy
naughty little Ruth, she was at first very happy nothing was wrong,
then mad that Ruth could be so bad, but finally laughing and calling
her sisters (remember Molly and Yetta and Fanny) to tell them about
Ruth’s latest adventure.
Now real soup, the way Bertha made it, was wonderful. First Bertha and
Ruth went to the chicken 
butcher who had about thirty cages of chickens
in front of his shop and more inside. Bertha usually chose a black and
white striped chicken. The chicken man took the lively chicken out of
the cage to the back of the shop and made it not so lively, then wrapped
it up, with the feet and unhatched eggs in a separate bag. At home,
Bertha put the chicken with some onions, carrots, and a couple cloves
and parsley in a big pot of water. The feet were cooked first because
they were smaller than the rest of the chicken, so Bertha scooped them
out and gave them to Ruth to chew on. Yummy little knuckles. When the
chicken was all done, Bertha strained the soup and put in the little
dark yellow eggs that had no shell because they had come from inside
the chicken when they were much too little to come out. This was much
better soup than Ruth had made with the red stuff.
Sometimes Bertha made a wonderful upside down cake. She baked it upside
down with the pineapple and cherries on the bottom so that when she
turned them they would be on top where they belonged. Ruth also liked
her mother’s apples baked in a pastry cage. But no! to the fish
with the slimy skins that slid down her throat and tasted like the cod
liver oil Bertha gave her every morning. Only Aunt Minnie could make
really good “molds,” fruit in gelatine in a circle shape.
Aunt Molly made the best gefilte fish, but Aunt Fanny made the worst
of everything. When Ruth went to play with Charlotte, they fished pickles
out of the barrel that Minnie used to soak the cucumbers until they
were sour enough to call pickles. The girls sliced lemons in half and
put piles of sugar on each half and ate the whole lemon. Best of all
were the pomegranates that Ruth’s and Charlotte’s grandmother
gave them for Hannukah. They were also given chocolate coins wrapped
in gold. Most weekends Bertha and Yetta and Molly and Fanny went with
their husbands and many of their children either to their brother Charlie’s
apartment or sometimes Molly’s. Everyone brought the food they
were proudest of and they all tried to make the children eat until they
burst. Ruth didn’t burst very easily, so Bertha was very proud
of her.
After dinner, the grown-ups played a card game called Poker. Bertha
usually won. The kids played Rummy and Pounce and War and maybe ten
other card games. When Ruth played with her grandmother, she sometimes
cheated a little bit. Nice grandmother; she pretended not to see and
often gave Ruth a penny.The grown-ups stayed up very late and the kids tried to stay awake too,
but two by two or even three by three, they plopped down in any of the
beds, lying sideways on the bed so more of them could fit in. In the
morning they were supposed to be quiet, so they wouldn’t awaken
the sleepy-head mothers and fathers. When the newsboy came down the
street shouting Read all about it! Get your Herald Examiner! one of
the children ran down to buy a copy. They all lay on the floor reading
or looking at the Katzenjammer Kids and Prince Valiant and Blondie in
the big comic section. Maybe somewhere, maybe still in Chicago, the
children of these children are still spending their weekends together,
all sleeping in the same bed, all sharing
the good cooking, playing cards, or maybe now they watch television.
I don’t know, because Ruth’s life was about to change and
she wouldn’t live so close to everyone anymore.
An
End to Fishing
Summers in South Haven, Michigan were lively times. The aunts and uncles
and cousins came whenever they could to the big house with one big kitchen
- though not quite big enough, so the sisters got in each other’s
way and it became noisy. It was almost dangerous for a kid to get in
the way of the cooks. The water came from the pump in front of the house,
a chore for the adults, a joy for the children. The toilet (a two-seater,
thank goodness) was behind the house. In Chicago everyone learned to
swim in Lake Michigan before they could walk, so it was okay for the
kids to wander around the lake whenever they wanted, which was always,
unless they were fishing. The sunfish and bluefish were so little they
usually had to be put back in, but it was fun anyway. In 
Chicago Harry
loved to fish every summer. Lee had a car and would come get Harry at
midnight to go to Belmont or Montrose Harbor. Later, Bertha would come
by streetcar with a big breakfast in a basket. Harry let Ruth come too.
It was Ruth’s favorite thing to do. Ruth would sit at the edge
of the harbor with her bamboo pole, put the worm on the hook herself,
and sit very still, saying “fishy fishy in the brook, papa catch
you with a hook, mama fry you in a pan, baby eat you fast as he can.”
One day Lee and Harry and Ruth
went fishing but before Bertha could come with breakfast, Harry had
an ache in his side. Lee helped his father get up and walk all bent
over to the car. Ruth followed. When they got home, Mr. Schwartz came
to get Ruth and took her to his home to play with his little girl Felicia.
Ruth stayed there for three days while Harry was getting an operation
at the hospital. Then there was a telephone call and Mrs. Schwartz told
Ruth her father passed away. She had to explain what that meant. Ruth
was very quiet. Felicia asked Ruth how come she wasn’t crying.
Ruth said she was just like her big brothers, that she never cried.
That night Ruth wet the bed.
When someone dies, religious Jewish people “sit shiva.”
They cover all the pictures and mirrors with sheets and they don’t
turn on the radio. People come to visit and bring food and everyone
cries together. Harry was forty seven years old when he died, Bertha
was then forty two. They had been married almost twenty six years and
had three living children: Lee - age twenty five; Marv - fifteen; Ruth
- almost eight. Something really puzzled Ruth that her mother said over
and over. Bertha said god takes the good first. This was worrisome,
for sure. Now Ruth knew she wasn’t good, so she wasn’t in
any immediate danger, but she wasn’t nearly as bad as everyone
told her she was, so she wasn’t completely safe either. Ruth sat
and contemplated this profound idea for quite a while. Ruth didn’t
go home. She went to her uncle Charlie and Aunt Minnie. This was a wonderful
place to live because her cousins Beverly, Seymour, and Charlotte were
lots of fun. Charlotte had her own bedroom and Ruth shared her bed.
It was the end of June, 1938. It was a lively, busy summer on Bernard
street near Kedzie avenue.
Fun
and Games
If everyone came out of their houses on Garfield street at the same
time, it might seem a little busy. Now imagine each house has at least
three families, more often six or more, and each family has at least
three children. If they all came out their houses at the same time,
it would be a busy noisy street indeed. Well, that’s Bernard street
and very many other streets in Chicago and other cities. Not many people
had cars and there was no television, so instead of looking at a box
or going behind the house and seeing only ourselves, out we went to
the sidewalks, the stoops, and even the streets, to play. It was summer
time. We had all day and half the night to hang out or jump around or
throw a ball. We had fun.
When there are no wide open spaces,
games that take a lot of space cannot be played. City kids have more
small-space games to play. In one kind of “tag,” you were
safe if you were above ground on a step or stoop. You taunted whoever
was “it” by getting off the step and then jumping back on
when she almost touched you. In time one of the six or ten children
playing got too close and then he was “it.” With a lot of
coke bottle caps, two or three kids took turns trying to toss one on
the crack of the sidewalk from behind the whole square - about three
feet away. Winner takes all. You 
probably know Rover, red Rover. Maybe
ten children hold hands in a line twenty feet from another ten children.
“Rover, red rover, let Charlotte come over!” Charlotte runs over and tries to break
through. If she doesn’t wham against their arms hard enough to
open them, they get to keep Charlotte. Now they have eleven kids and
we have only nine. In time one team has everyone, and wins. Of course
there was hopscotch, roly-poly, stoop ball, jacks, hide n seek, and
leap frog, and, best of all, jump rope. We played with one person at
each end turning the rope and one or two children jumping, or with one
turning and jumping alone. Sometimes we would say things like “standing
on the corner, chewing a piece of gum, along comes Charlotte, and asks
for some (Charlotte jumps in). No, you little beggar, no , you little
bum, I’d rather give yoa nothing than to give you some (Charlotte jumps out.) We did a lot of tricks with the
rope. One little rubber ball was all you needed to play games by yourself
for an hour. Bounce the ball and say “my name is Alice (leg goes
over the ball)and my mother’s name is Ann (leg over) and my father’s
name is Alex (over) and we live in Akron (over) and then on to B. When
you stumble on a letter it’s your friend’s turn.
One boy had a bicycle. We leaned the bike on a tree, then got on and
pushed like crazy. It was a big bike and we couldn’t sit on it,
so we all learned to ride standing up. It was a boy’s bike so
we couldn’t get off by touching the ground; we had to jump off
and fell quite often. Because there were few cars, we sometimes played
in streets too, but usually games that required that much space went
to the alley. For example, kick the can or just plain ball throwing.
Around ten o’clock the mothers started calling the children home
to bed. Funny how much trouble we had hearing. Then when we finally
did hear, we answered Okay, soon. Then half an hour later we said Coming!
Another half an hour and we were really too tired to stay out. Summers
went on like this usually past the first of September because almost
every year there was a polio epidemic and school was delayed. Our president,
Roosevelt, had polio and was in a wheelchair.
When the weather became colder, we had indoor games too. We told lots
of riddles and we played dominoes and checkers and Old Maid and hilo
(watch out for the lamp) and we went more often to the movies. Ten cents
for the movie and one penny for a box of Milk Duds, our favorite candy.
Or we played with paper dolls named Princess Elizabeth and Princess
Margaret, or Shirley Temple or the Dionne Quintets. Shirley Temple was
a favorite little actress with about fifty curls. Charlotte had the
same number of curls. Charlotte also had a dresser full of clothes:
a sweater of a color called cherry and a pink and blue plaid wool skirt.
To this day, Ruth especially likes those colors. Charlotte also had
pretty slips and socks with lace edges. Ruth thought Charlotte was the
prettiest little girl she knew.
With so many changes happening in so many people’s lives, you could not expect anyone to remember everyone’s birthdays. On July fifteenth, Ruth went for a walk by herself down Kedzie avenue, and felt wonderful because she was eight years old. It was her secret and she walked a little taller and much prouder that day. She didn't know that her grandmother died that day.
Bertha
and Ruth
There were whole stores that sold nothing but candy and most cost just
a penny. Maybe the long strips with little colored dots were the best.
Because Bertha never went to school and never learned to read or write
it was hard to find work to do. Also, in those days, most Jews felt
it was better to work for yourself, nobody else. Even incredibly rich
people like the famous Rothchilds kept their 
business in their family.
So Bertha found a little candy store to take care of. There was a room
in the back big enough for an extra cot, so Ruth could be with her mother
again. It was dark and not very cheery, so Lee, who was never far away,
brought Ruth a little white kitten. Ruth named her kitten Sugar. On
such a busy main street with street cars (ask Dad what a street car
is) you can imagine a kitty can’t last very long. Soon Bertha
found two light bright rooms behind a doctor’s office that had
a kitchen, but a million bugs. When those bugs saw Bertha they got scared to death, ran away, and never
never came back. Ruth often sat on a corner of the rug in the sun, drawing
big pictures. Years later Ruth drew a picture of two children in that
spot in the sun drawing. Today, about fifty five years later, Ruth still
has that picture.
They moved again to a nice big apartment building. Because there was
no bedroom, there was a special bed that folded almost up to the ceiling
behind two doors like a closet. They had a telephone too. One day in
December, Charlotte called Ruth and told her that the Japanese bombed
Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. So now everyone’s life would change because
of war. Lee was drafted into the army and Marv joined the air force.
Seymour (Charlotte’s brother) became a flyer and all four sons
of Sally (Harry’s sister who looked a lot like Ruth) went into
the service There were so many Obermans and Talmans fighting in the
war in Europe and Japan, that it as a miracle no one was even injured.
For the people in the countries where fighting was going on, life was
a little worse than a nightmare. But in America, it was mostly a matter
of missing the young men who had to go so far away. Otherwise, daily
life was not all that different.
1942
- 1951
Bertha and Ruth moved again, this time to the south side, far away from
the Obermans, but closer to the Talmans. Sally was lonely without her
four sons; she had never had a little girl. She asked Ruth if she would
like to be her daughter. Sally had a piano. Ruth never heard anyone
play it, but there were two pieces of music open on it: Mood Indigo
and Mandy is Two. It would be nice to live where there is a piano. Ever
since Ruth saw a violin in her friend Eddie Friedman’s house way
back in second grade, Ruth had wanted to play a musical instrument.
The problem was that Sally was so extremely nice and bubbly, and paid
so much attention to Ruth that Ruth got all embarrassed and couldn’t
talk or move when she visited Sally. So how could she live there all
the time? So, sadly, Ruth said no to the piano and Sally.
The janitor’s son (ask Dad what’s a janitor) was very friendly
to Ruth; he showed her how to make a “victory” garden in
the empty lot next to their building. The dirt was like a gravel parking
lot but somehow they dug it up and planted carrots, radishes, corn and
lettuce. Do you think Dad would let you have your own little part of
your backyard for your own veggie garden? Ask him. Tell Dad that your
grandmother said he should say yes. Ooops. Ruth just wandered forward
more than fifty years. Go back, Ruth. It’s 1942, not 1995. The
janitor’s son and Ruth also went to the beach every day and played
Tarzan and Jane in the deep water off the rocks at the end of the point
of 75th St. beach.
Because of the war, it was a little easier to get jobs. Ruth applied
for special working papers for children twelve years old and was pleased
to get a job in the small restaurant of the bowling alley. When Ruth
wasn’t making hamburgers after school and on Saturdays, the owner
allowed her to bowl free if she would set her own pins. It was not automatic
then. Every time the ball knocked down any pins the “pinboy”
placed them in a whatchamacallit above and pulled extremely hard to
get them down in place again. Ruth played in the end alley, knocked
down a lot of pins, ran near the wall to the end, set the pins, yanked
down with all her weight, ran back to the balls, bowled again, and repeated
this at least twenty times -usually more, because Ruth was a very good bowler. All her weight? Those
days no one owned a scale, but in eighth grade all the children were
measured. Ruth was four feet, nine and three quarter inches and weighed
eighty seven and a half pounds. This was a lot of weight for a little
girl who was very skinny. All those muscles you get setting your own
pins weigh a lot. Also, Ruth wrestled a lot and was the school’s
best wrestler. She climbed trees, danced the “jitterbug,”
swam extremely fast and played a mean game of baseball. Ruth’s
favorite class in school was gym. But Ruth made so many good pictures,
that when the Art Institute allowed each school in Chicago to choose
one child from the whole school to receive a scholarship (free lessons)
to the museum’s school, Ruth was chosen. Ruth’s other favorite
subject was arithmetic.
Time to move again.This time it was to the north side to live for a while with the Satlins, including 
smarty pants Shelly who went to Lane Tech and not just plain Sullivan high. If you move often, you get very good at it. Ruth
could make friends very fast and easily. High school was much more fun
because there was a swimming pool, a much bigger gymnasium, and you
could choose some of your classes. Ruth took as little of history and
geography as possible, but all the math and art that was permitted.
She got a job as a “soda jerk.” That was more fun than her
last job, which was taking care of the socks counter in the dime store
for twelve and a half cents an hour. Now she got twenty-five cents an
hour and could buy herself clothes instead of wearing old stuff all
the time. When the war ended, Lee came to live a block away. He brought
his French wife and their little girl, Jacki. Jacki was one of the best things to happen to Ruth. She was
a magnificent little girl and Ruth played with her whenever she wasn’t
in school or working. Marvin came to live with Ruth and Bertha because
now there was space in the dining room for a cot for him. Ruth slept
on the couch in the living room and Bertha and her second husband, Phil
Gordon, had the bedroom. There was also a kitchen and pantry.
When Ruth was almost eighteen, she moved near the Art Institute where
she would go to school. It was busy fitting classes around odd jobs,
because school wasn’t free anymore. She went to school in France,
too, and there she was given a scholarship (meaning free school) and
Ruth didn’t have to work hardly at all. When Ruth returned to
Chicago, she was an artist. Now it was time to be a mother also, so
she started thinking about who would make a nice father. She heard about
a club at the University where there were lots of math students who
liked to canoe and bike and hike. Well! Ruth loved to do anything outdoors
and math was her second favorite subject. So! Time to go check it out.
Who’s at the club?
The
Family Grows
The nice students at the University of Chicago outing club all came
to the New Year’s Eve party. One handsome young man named Emil
who had a huge black moustache and a Turkish accent noticed that Ruth
was wearing men’s shoes.Well, what kind
of strange young woman does that? Ruth tried to explain that women’s
shoes were 
not made for walking and they were really not sturdy enough. So, one thing led
to another, and before long, Ruth Talman, daughter of Harry Talman and Bertha Oberman, became Ruth
Talman Kazez. Kazez? Kazez? Where have you heard that name before? Emil’s and Ruth’s
first baby was a plump beautifulboy that looked just like Emil. They named him William because there
is no “w” in theTurkish language that Emil spoke until he came to America six or seven
years ago, so Emil thoughtthat was a very unusual name. William was a very good, peaceful little
baby; he slept all night long and sat quietly wherever he was put. Everyone said Ruth was very lucky
to have such a well-behaved little boy. So Ruth and Emil had another
little baby, also plump and lovely, also quiet and peaceful. Little
Jean looked just like Willam who looked just like Emil and was just
as angelic as her brother. Ruth was very proud of Emil’s children.
She was making nice new little Kazez’s and was eager to make another
one. Well! What have we here?
This new one doesn’t look like Emil. This little guy isn’t plump and peaceful. These scrawny little arms and legs aren’t staying still for a minute. Isn’t he ever quiet? Ruth was beside herself with joy. Here was a little Talman, a boy Ruth, a baby just like herself. Remember baby Ruth, a wild little thing? Now Ruth’s and Emil’s family was complete. She had two miniature Emils and one miniature Ruth. They named him Daniel. Bertha was very pleased with the new babies and came often to see them, as often as Lee could bring her in his car. You remember that Bertha was only seventeen years old when Lee was born, and Lee was seventeen years old when his sister Ruth was born. So Bertha and Lee were a little bit like brother and sister, not just mother and son. Wherever Bertha lived, Lee lived too. They often had businesses together. Marvin was farther away. After Ruth got married, Marvin went to the same place to get married too; then after Ruth had three children, Marvin had three children. Copycat. They were named Larry, Cheryl and Leslie. Much later Lee had another child named Alan. Of course while all these new people were being created, old people were dying. Yetta, Molly, Herman, Jake, Joe, Herman; they were all gone now, and of course Bertha’s mother and father were too. But there will be more to come. Do you know the names of any of the “more to come?” (I do because it's 2005: their names are Sammy and Becky and they are as old as Benny was when I wrote this.).
The
Three Kids
There were no little cousins nearby for Emil’s and Ruth’s
children to play with, but there were many other children who also
didn’t have lots of aunts and uncles living close by. Will
played everyday with Tak, Bertha Elena, Sono and her sister Midori,
and Christopher. Later there were grown-ups who were almost like
family. The Tours came over to play “Hearts,” a card
game, or to play musical duets. The Werboffs and their three children
were the best of friends. The Winters and the Eskews were almost
like cousins, and there were other families with children too,
so it wasn’t so different. When people have children they
like to do some of the same things they did when they were children,
and they like to do some of the things they wanted, but didn’t
get, to do. Ruth had always had wanderlust. Even when she was
only three years old, she would wander off alone. Once, Bertha
had to go collect Ruth at the police station, where she was sitting
on the nice policeman’s lap, eating a banana. Ruth had never
been camping and only went to beaches at lakes, not the ocean.
So, that was something she wanted very much to do.
The first year they went to Cape Hatteras there was a terrible
storm and the tent rolled over several times. Ruth and Emil got
Will and Jean out of the tent, but they couldn’t find Danny.
A minute seemed like an hour before they heard him whisper “mama”
from a little crumpled corner of the tent. The Kazez family had
lots of little adventures like that. There were wet trips in the
Smokies, hiking everywhere, and once they even went camping all
over Europe. (I think those three kids still like camping and
the ocean and the forests.) At home the kids were very busy. They
played a lot, especially in the woods across the street. Ruth
doesn’t know what they did there, but she heard a rumor
not long ago that they played games they didn’t want Mama
to know about. And Ruth still doesn’t know. There was all
the space in the world so the new children did not play all the
games that the old children used to play. Now they had sand boxes
and swing sets and they could throw a ball as far as they wanted
and still not hit a window. Nobody jumped rope or played jacks.
Now people lived in houses and often played in their own back
yard instead of out front. There was badminton and croquet and
ice-skating in the winter and even tossing balls in the basket
at the park. What do children play today? (note from today, almost 2010: I know it's computer games now and wii)
Danny was only four years old when he began playing the recorder.
He was so good at it, he began ‘cello lessons only one year
later. We have to ask Dan about his first lesson. He threw up
all over the place. Do you think Danny was a little bit scared
of his first lesson from the university professor? Jean loved
playing piano so much that when she came home from school she
would beg to play and Ruth would have to say very firmly No, this
is playtime; you go out now and you can play music before dinner!
Summer, of course, was more fun because they could go to the pool.
They had a favorite game they played in the wading pool. It was
called Let’s Drown Mama; the three not-so-little kids would
gang up on poor Ruth (who actually enjoyed it) and see if they
could get her head under. Then they would go in the big pool and
take turns diving between each other’s legs or get on Ruth’s
and Emil’s shoulders and dive off or hold their hands and
be swung around very fast. Much later Danny and Jean liked taking
lessons in life-saving. Will took some lessons too.
I guess all parents look at their kids and wonder if they are
going to be interested in the same things as they are or if they
will be different. Ruth and Emil were pleased to see that Danny
liked science just like Emil, Will liked math just like both Ruth
and Emil, Jean liked to read and discuss everything just like
Ruth, Danny and Jean liked to play music just like Ruth, Jean
was circumspect just like Emil, Will was reductive (ask Dad what
that means) just like Ruth, Danny had wanderlust like Ruth. But they were very different, too. Will and Danny could
fix things, like nobody else could. Ruth was an athlete, like
nobody. And today?
Today
Almost one hundred and fifty years have passed since Ruth’s
grandfather received a gold watch with his bride. Today all their
children, Bertha and her four sisters and four brothers, are gone.
Bertha’s and Harry’s three sons have died also. Lee’s
daughter Jacki has twins but they live far away I will give you
a few hints about the future. Will still likes arithmetic; he
is a professor of math. Jean still likes books and discussions;
she is a professor of philosophy. Dan still likes music and science;
he is a professor of music and theory. Emil still likes science;
he has been a professor of physics for about forty years. Ruth
is still an artist and an athlete and has wanderlust; she goes
to triathlons as far away as Hawaii and New Zealand. Remember
Ruth’s soup that she dumped down the alley? Well, Ruth still
likes to cook. You’re going to find out about Sybilla, and
Arlin, and Peter, and four little munchkins (NOW THERE ARE SIX)
and maybe still more to come (TWO MORE). What are their names?
Who are the aunts and uncles and grandmothers and grandfathers
and nieces and nephews and cousins? Do the new kids like to do
anything their mothers and fathers do? Are the children quite
different, too? When Jean was little, she announced one day that
We Are All Indiwidooels. Do you think so too?
SO LONG FOR NOW RUTH (grandma)
