GRANDMA BETTY’S JOURNEY TO AMERICA-1914

 There was unrest & atrocities happening in Warsaw, Poland-- Pogroms (bombing of cities) & shortage of food. This led my father to decide to go to America & try to get his family to eventually join him. In America he worked as a presser in a factory—He lived on bread, rice & potatoes to save enough money to get passports for his wife and 5 girls to join him in USA. After 5 yrs. he reached his goal and sent us the passports. My mother lived with her parents (my grandmother and grandfather) who were, I guess, about 70 years old. When she received the passports, she knew her parents could not join her but for the sake of her children, she knew the choice she would make. Upon hearing the news that we would be leaving, her father (my grandfather) lost his eyesight from the shock. We had no clothes for this trip and so my mother went to the Consul every day to beg for money to clothe us. We traveled 3rd class on the boat. The food was scarce and mother passed out many times from undernourishment. We used to beg for food from the 1st class travelers.

 The journey was traumatic. The ocean was filled with mines and there was always the possibility of the ship being sunk. I remember praying for the safe arrival to America.

 We arrived at Ellis Island & I remember sleeping on a cot & eating crackers and sardines. It tasted so good, that was my introduction to American meal. Our diet here consisted of potatoes, soup, bread, and meagre portions of meat. All the holy Holidays were observed religiously, which we still do, and always there was home baked challah & cake. My father’s nephew was a baker and owned a bakery store. My father reached a point where he could not tolerate pressing as he developed boils on his body and arms from the hot iron used in his work. He consulted with his nephew and with his help he opened a bakery which finally became a grocery store.

 My mother and father met at a family gathering. When he proposed to her it was compulsory to serve in the Russian army. At the end of his service, they were married. This marriage was made in Heaven. My father idolized my mother, and they were loving parents—never an argument in the household—orthodox traditional home. I met my husband at a Valentines party. We also had a traditional Jewish home.

Handwritten by Grandma Betty