WWII and the rise of anti-Semitism

This entry is the fourth in a series of an oral history I did with my grandmother before her passing. In her stories, she speaks of  her parents' immigration to America from Russia, growing up Jewish in a German neighborhood and simply being a Jewish girl in the Midwest. Here are the entries in the order they were written

• Midwest Judaism in the 1920s
• Jewish in the Midwest during WWII
• Adjusting to Jewish life in the 1930s

We lived on the South side of Columbus and most of our neighbors were German. 890 South 22nd street, which was my house, was one of the only Jewish houses on the block. Our house was red brick and we had a kitchen, living room, basement and one bath for six people. The kitchen had a refrigerator, stove and table. We didn't really play in there because that was Mama's space. So we took over the living room. There was one brown table in the living room but the best part of the room was the sofa and chairs. The sofa was dark mohair and the chairs were soft and fuzzy. The bathroom was in the hall from the kitchen to the living room and Ruby would always yell at me to get out because I was taking too long, and then I would yell at David and David would yell at Martie. The basement was where we had a double dexter washing machine, coal furnace and the bathtub. The bathtub was my favorite. It was white and was held off the ground by four claw feet. The basement was were we would always hang our clothes and bake liver in the furnace.

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Adjusting to Jewish life in 1930s America

This entry is the third in a series of an oral history I did with my grandmother before her passing. In her stories, she speaks of  her parents' immigration to America from Russia, growing up Jewish in a German neighborhood and simply being a Jewish girl in the Midwest. For the first entry, Midwest Judaism in the 1920s, click here, for the second entry, click here.

Food in our house served many functions, but it was especially a way for Mama to express her religious and cultural identity. In Russia, Mama's identity came from the food, and when she came to the states, it was a way for her to hold on to herself.
 
Because we are Ashkenazi our meals were different from Sephardic Jews. Although our practices were different, we still incorporated their style with ours. The most important food is fish because it is the oldest Jewish dish mentioned in the Torah. Another extremely important food in the Jewish cuisine is bread. We learned in Sunday school that bread was the basic food in Eretz Yisrael, and that it accompanied sacrifices and offerings in Biblical times. Well Mama's challah was made out of five grains wheat, barley, spelt, oats and rye. On Shabbat we would recite Ha-Motsi over the two-challah loaves and my father would tear off a piece of bread and pass it around the table. Each one of us would tear off a piece until everyone at the table had a bit of bread on his or her plate. On Rosh Hashanah, my mother made the two loaves of bread into different shapes.

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Jewish in the Midwest during WWII

This entry is a continuation of an oral history I did with my grandmother on her parents' immigration to America from Russia, growing up Jewish in a German neighborhood and simply being a Jewish girl in the Midwest. For the first entry, Midwest Judaism in the 1920s, click here. 

So sixteen was a great year for me, starting with my first kiss. Then Harold taught me how to drive. My brother Ruby started driving when he was thirteen because there was no legal age, (nor was there such a thing as a license). I didn't have my own car so I would use my father's. Papa had an old brown and beige Studebaker station wagon with the panels on the sides. When it would rain, we would have to go and nail them down.

Although things between the Germans and the Jews in the neighborhood were tense, they intensified at the start of the war. Women that had always been friendly to my mother on the street began to ignore her. The ill comments and cruelty did not affect my parents; they never once doubted their faith. As the war continued the neighborhood began to clear out. First the family on the right corner, then their neighbors, soon the entire neighborhood was barren. Each day we would talk about what family had left their home and my mother and father would shake their head in disgust, as the Germans in the neighborhood fled to Germany to help fight the war.

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