rose berenson: what i remember
DESCRIPTION
A Jewish woman remembersTRANSCRIPT
ROSE BERENSON: WHAT I REMEMBER
Cast: Rose Berenson Story: A Jewish woman remembers
I remember mostly the little things…the smells, the street noises…the
way Yiddish sounded. And the people, of course…my family, my
friends. I see them so clearly. They could be in this room; I could
almost touch them.
But it was no picnic, those times. We were very poor.
The tenements!
So awful there!
Filth and garbage
Everywhere.
Mama scrubbed
With all her might
To turn our floors
A gleaming white.
On the corners of every street
Ruffians, hoodlums
You could meet.
My papa pushed
A wooden cart.
Yelled “I cash clothes”
‘til it got dark.
One day when climbing
Up the stairs
A giant rat
Was sitting there
With beady eyes
And gleaming teeth.
I screamed out loud
In disbelief.
The streets were full of all kinds of people. We kids used to crouch on
our stoop, afraid to come down. There was this drunken man who
smelled like whiskey. His fly was always open. Only when the ice
cream wagon came were we brave enough to run past him.
RHYME WE’D CHANT:
California
Pork and beans
Kissed a boy
In New Orleans
Fourth Street
Fifth Street
Your brother has fleas
Leche nut
Coconut
Limburger cheese.
Pot roast!
MY MAMA WAS THE GREATEST COOK
Succulent soups.
Herring creamed.
Custards floating
Like a dream.
I watch Mama
Cooking there
Stirring, stirring.
Mama dear.
Mama please
Let me help you cooking.
“Child,” she says,
“Just sit and watch.”
Some salt she takes
Between her fingers.
The grains they tumble
Drop by drop.
Potato pancakes,
Apple sauce.
Folded blintzes.
Cabbage tossed.
Some day Mama
(precious pearl)
I’ll be your special
Servant girl.
All the kids would play
But O not me.
I could feel the tears
Well up in me.
When Mama left
With her shopping bag
My stomach ached
My shoulders sagged.
Then at the window
I’d sit and wait,
I’d just keep staring
(and concentrate)
‘til I saw Mama
Coming up the street.
My Mama dear.
My Mama sweet.
To the others, “Mama.”
To my Papa, “wife.”
But she was to me
My very life.
My best friend was Sarah Klein. She was as tough as nails. If
someone bothered her she would push them right down. We went
everywhere together. If we had ten cents we would go to the movies.
But our favorite thing was to go to the roof...which we called “tar
beach”…and read movie magazines.
I wanted to be like Norma Shearer.
Drive around
In limousines
Kiss George Raft
And dance the tango.
Be seen in all
The magazines
Or even be in Ziegfield’s Follies.
Sing and clown like Fannie Brice.
I’m sure you know
That she was Jewish.
The papers said
She was very nice.
O Sarah!
Friend!
(birds of a feather)
We’d be movie stars
And be famous together.
In spelling class
I got all A’s.
And Gert (with numbers)
Was a whiz.
But kids (in those days)
Had to work at home.
Who knows how far
We could have gone.
In the movies everybody ate so nicely. They were always so polite. In
our house everyone pushed and shoved. But I wasn’t like that. I’d sit
very quietly and take only small bites of food. And I would chew every
mouthful fifteen times.
Uncle Abie
Auntie Sable
Lunged for bread
Across the table.
Mendel chewed
An onion raw.
(He’s Uncle Meyer’s
son-in-law.)
Then they’d start
To pick their teeth.
From stuck food
They’d need relief.
Some used knives
Or matchbox covers.
(O how I’d love
to eat with others.)
But not with Tante Sophie
(the monster from Mars)
Tante Sophie
(we try to hide).
Tante Sophie
(five feet wide).
Her own she loves
(but us she hit.)
We liked her not
A little bit.
Her “little Mel”
(she’d pet his head),
Put soft pillows
On his bed.
But us she’d scold
And make us sleep
Stacked up like wood
Without a peep.
Tante Tante
Tante Sophie.
Her face so ugly
It could win a trophy.
Tante Tante
Tante dear.
We’d hold our ears
So not to hear.
When my brother Nathan went to work, we’d all get up to watch him
shave. He’d sharpen his razor. Then he’d lather up his face and
shave off every drop. He always put on a clean shirt. Then he’d let us
choose his necktie
Nathan, Nathan
Give a penny.
Don’t tell us
You haven’t any.
My brother Nathan
To work he’d start
Every morning
When it was dark.
He put envelopes
On weighing plates
That went all over
The United States.
But what we like best
Was Friday night.
He’d come back
(fist held tight.)
And then we’d line up
With great big smiles.
But to get our coins
We’d wait awhile.
Nathan, Nathan
Give a penny.
Don’t tell us
You haven’t any.
He had such crazy stories, Nathan did. Papa called him “the
dreamer”. He would tell us all about his adventures. He could have
been a wonderful writer.
“O Nathan,”
We’d cry,
“Tell us again
About the post office
(So much fun!)
And those letters addressed
To ‘Santa Claus’
‘The three Blind Mice’
‘The Queen of England’
‘Jesus Christ.’
And how you put them all
In great big rows.
And where they’d go then
Nobody knows.
Nathan once
Stayed in a hotel
Where from the faucets
Lemonade fell.
And after he washed
(and his back he scrubbed)
He used a straw
To drain the tub.
Once
In the deepest
And darkest of nights
Nathan he witnessed
The strangest of sights.
He saw a red door
In an alley quite dim.
So he pushed it wide open
And wandered right in.
And it was a theatre!
A magician was performing.
It was “Think-A-Drink Hoffman.”
Across the stage he was storming.
And he held up a pitcher,
And in glass after glass
He poured all the drinks
That the audience asked.
From the pitcher came coffee
And milkshakes and frappes.
And all kinds of beer
(Ballantine, Pabst).
And soft drinks also.
And tomato juice red.
Every drink was poured out
That the audience said.
And some liquids steamed.
And others just bubbled.
And some were so dark
He knew they spelled trouble.
Then there jumped to his feet
A mysterious man
Who was dressed all in black
(up the aisle he ran).
And he jumped on the stage
And cried out with a roar
That he had chosen a drink
That no pitcher could pour.
And that drink was the juice
From the matzah ball tree,
The deadliest poison
You ever could see.
And then Think-A-Drink Hoffman
(although he did frown)
Poured out matzah ball juice,
And the man gulped it down.
Then he grabbed at his stomach.
And he staggered about.
And a fat lady screamed.
And another passed out.
“So what happened next?”
We cried with great horror.
But Nathan said it was bedtime,
And he’d tell us tomorrow.
We never fought
(my sisters and brothers.)
We were always close.
We loved one another.
When my older sisters started dating, what characters they dragged
through the apartment! Nathan called them “the animals.” We
sometimes peeked at them from around the curtain. And when Golda
caught us she would cry out: “Mama, Mama, they’re spying on me,
they’re spying on me!”
I remember once
(O how we laughed)
Golda brought home a boyfriend
With a neck like a giraffe.
And she offered him fruit
(a nice apple…a pear).
But he said, “No fruit, thank you.
I only eat onions.”
And his breath (Golda said)
Smelled like Papa’s old bunions.
Annie, my sister,
Still in thrall
Met a man
At the Social Hall.
So polite, he was
(she felt at ease).
He wore a flower.
His pants were creased.
O she was so certain
He was the one.
How they danced!
(they has so much fun)
At first she wondered
Too short?...too thin?
But his aftershave
Made her senses spin.
Benny, Benny
His name was Benny!
Drove a truck
(and was making plenty).
He lived in Brooklyn
With his older brother.
He said he’d call her.
(took down her number)
Gert was seeing
A man named Sam
Who said “all rooty”
When he shook your hand.
But when he said “rooty”
Annie’d say “tooty.”
So we called him (Sam)
The “rooty-tooty man”.
When Papa told us he bought a farmhouse we didn’t know what to
think. Would we be farmers now? Golda said that in the country
people wore “dungarees,” and walked around in their bare feet. And
that they hated the Jews. But Uncle Meyer had a jalopy. And soon we
were traveling to “the mountains.”
In the back seat
(What a test!)
I got more carsick
Than the rest.
And every few miles
I threw up
(like a waterfall
I threw up).
But Mama always
Took out a bag
When my head went down
And I’d start to gag.
But we got to like the country. We felt so free. We’d pick flowers and
strawberries. And stand on big rocks and look at the views. Once
Minnie asked, “Where’s the subway?” And we almost died laughing.
But we never went
Into the woods.
Who knew
What lurked in there?
Spiders, bobcats,
Snakes, or bears.
We kids threw rocks
From off the road.
Yelled “ha, ha, ha,”
Then more unload.
But if something stirred
And moved the leaves
We’d run so fast
You can’t believe.
And once, trying to cross the pasture green
There was the biggest dog we’d ever seen.
So big it was…so fierce, so mean.
So shaggy like a wolf.
We ran until our legs were sore.
We ran ‘til we could run no more.
Sammy fell in cow manure.
And Minnie ruined her shoes.
He had a name
For everything
My brother Nathan did.
(What an imagination!)
The stream
He called
“The babbling brook”.
“The lonesome trail”
Was the path
We took
To pick blueberries
With a coffee can.
And the “river of lost souls”
Was the one that ran…where?
(we never learned)
But those who went down it
Never returned.
Soon our farmhouse became a boarding house, and then a real hotel.
We all had special jobs. Even the little ones.
My Mama
Cooked food
At our hotel.
Soups
Stews
Rich desserts
(even when her back was hurt).
She prepared every course
(worked like a horse)
My Mama.
When Papa had
To learn to drive
O what trouble
He got into.
The car would jerk
(and stop),
Go fast
(then slow).
What the clutch was for
He didn’t know.
Our hotel had its own private lake. We loved to dangle our feet off the
pier. Sometimes we collected mussel shells. We called these shells
the “golden clams.”
But none of us ever learned to swim.
Nathan once told us this story:
There was a man
Of life so full
Lifshitz his name,
(strong as a bull),
Who once wolfed down
A piece of cake
And ran right out
To swim the lake,
Even munching
While he ran
Some halavah
And marzipan.
But right before
(while still on track)
He tripped upon
A sidewalk crack.
And fell face down
Into a puddle
And got a cramp
That locked his muscles.
And there he drowned
In shallow water.
A wife he left,
(a baby daughter).
Poor Lifshitz
He should have waited
To digest the food
He masticated.
Before you swim (said Nathan)
Restrain your zeal.
Don’t be like Lifshitz
(that schlemiel).
Many young couples came to our hotel. In those days people made
their own fun…campfires and weenie roasts, and talent contests. But
our social staff put on real shows. And some of our employees
became very well known.
On Saturday night
(O what “shows”!)
With acts now famous
And some nobody knows.
And one of the staff
(who directed the “skits”)
Was none other
Than the great Marty Ritt,
Who Papa once fired
For eating too much.
(“Three glasses of milk
he needs with his lunch?”)
We loved the shows, but my favorite act was Mendel and Schmendel.
Papa called them “the two schlimazels”. Mendel was fat...like a horse.
And little Schmendel looked like a string bean…a skinny merink
O how we screamed!
(O how we screamed)
The fat one
Would say “onion roll”.
Then the skinny one
(with the funny hat)
Would turn around
(slow…not quick)
And hit the fat one
With a stick.
Then more they’d talk
(then right on beat)
“Onion roll…onion roll”
The fat one
Would repeat.
And again skinny’d turn
(And again the stick!)
And we’d laugh and laugh
‘til we were sick.
The kitchen help were always a problem. They were mostly
drunkards and tramps. When Papa fired them, they would go down
the road carrying their bundles of clothes.
I won’t touch people
I don’t know.
Dripping fingers?
Sticky skin?
Who knows where
Their hands have been?
Why won’t people wash their hands
After going to the toilet?
A little soap? A little water?
Then life is pleasant.
(the germs can’t spoil it).
Papa he once fired a man
After his “elimination”.
He didn’t wash. He didn’t bother.
Back he came.
(no hesitation).
Our guests really loved the sun. The men wore little plastic things on
their noses, and rubbed suntan lotion on their chests. They were real
Tarzans.
And the women
(by the pool)
How they’d strut
(back and forth
and back and forth)
With swinging hips
And revealing halters.
God forbid
They should go in the water.
And one day a man walked into the lobby, and I thought to myself,
“Who is that?” He was short. Shorter than I am. But he looked to me
like a movie star.
LARRY BERENSON
He was wild.
(my brother’s friend)
All the girls
Said let him be.
He had a moustache
Trimmed just right.
I knew at once
He was for me.
He and Sam
Once worked together
At the Three Star
Creamery.
I saw him working
With no shirt.
(a muscle man)
He was for me.
We went out
I was so shy.
The other girls
Were much more free.
I never even
Kissed a man.
He showed respect.
He was for me.
What fun we had!
What fun we had!
At night we’d go
To the big hotels
(Danny Kaye
worked up the road)
We’d follow him
While he sang
And told stories.
What fun we had!
What fun we had!
And we all liked music
Especially jazz.
(or as we called it
“razza-ma-taz”).
And all the songs
We'd try to croon
Just like
Bing Crosby did.
(bub-bub-bub-boo)
What fun we had!
What fun we had!
Larry liked
To eat fresh pork
And pig’s feet cold
With his hands
(no fork).
And even go
To the farmers’ houses
Where food uncovered
Sat for hours.
And he even took me
Once to eat
With his farmer friends.
(those smelly feet!)
But I only had a glass of water.
I told them I had
A stomach disorder.
And finally, we were married
(in a civil way).
And Larry really
Wanted sex.
But I explained:
“First, let a rabbi
Marry us
Then we’ll consider
What comes next”.
But two weeks later
(in the synagogue)
We exchanged our vows.
(broke the glass)
Paid the rabbi.
And Larry drove me
Home so fast
That two state troopers’
Cars he passed.
When Gary was born
I almost died.
We had to leave him
(for a time)
With Golda and Sam.
But Mrs. Van Horn
(who came in to cook)
Mixed up my dishes
(the meat with the dairy)
And so I stopped being kosher.
(and to this day I’m sorry.)
Gary,
Gary,
When he was just two
Knew the Blue Danube Waltz
(all the way through).
“La la la la la”
We’d sing in the car.
“Ta ta,” he would answer.
“Ta ta…ta ta.”
And then Golda died.
(and Harry Fine)
And Harry’s daughter
(from Boca Raton).
And Sarah’s Mel.
(and Louie’s Sal)
And Polly Katz…
…and Izzy Pearl.
(and Sy and Al)
And Mama, also
(may she rest in peace).
And Mama’s cousin
(Philly Stein)
Who played the horses
(fat Leo’s son).
And Jackie Reuben.
And Aaron Chase.
And Nat…
…the barber
(who loved…
…to sing).
Harry Kubelsky
(from heart disease)
And what’s-her-name?
Marsha?
Myra?
Brezky?
Brezinsky?
With all those crazy…
…dogs she had?
But life went on. And finally, we settled in the country. Larry built us a
house. And I became a real “hick.” I even had a dog…if you can
imagine!
And then Papa died. And then Nathan. And the kids grew up. And
Larry retired. And Gary got married and started a very good law
practice out West.
My daughter Roz (who is also married) always says, “Ma, you can’t
complain. You had a wonderful life.”
And I guess I did.