My in-laws celebrated their golden wedding anniversary in 1925. My mother-in-law, Naomi-Feigl, died a short time later, after suffering from poor health for some time. She was both wise and pious, and occupied a revered status in the Andres family circle. My father-in-law was left to live alone on the ground floor of the two story house. My sister-in-law, Anuta, and myself were very fond of him - and close, and saw to it that he was made as comfortable as his needs demanded, as he grew older. My father-in-law, however, knew how to live and take care of his health.
He was blessed with a reputable standing in the community and did not lack for many good friends. These visited him frequently and engaged him in discussion. Very often I would listen in on their discourses, which dwelt chiefly on Jewish matters, global and domestic events and news of the latest political and economic events regarding Palestine (now Israel) and the general situation there.
My father-in-law would be visited by fund-raisers from various parts of the country-they all knew his address-and none would be turned away empty-handed. Once, one of them spent the night with him. In the morning he had disappeared, taking with him my father-in-law's new shoes. In their place he left his worn and tattered ones. He also had taken along with him a treasured bottle of whiskey (this was in the days of Prohibition) . . . whiskey which my father-in-law would share with his friends. This 'pretty' tale was oft told . . . but was only reserved for the ears of the family.
My father-in-law lived to the ripe age of 92 . . . always refusing to use a cane for support, with the reflection that "this only adds to the age of a person. " However we cannot outwit the aging process . . . and he did age slowly. One day he fell, and remained in bed for ten months. His health began to fail him, even with the most excellent of care. And the dearly beloved man, Reb Jacob Leib Andres, greatly honored and mourned by all, went to his eternal rest in the month of December, 1944.
* * * * At this point I want to dwell on my determination to preserve my Yiddish which I did through all of the 59 years of my life in Dallas, Texas. I actually fought for Yiddish. I never gave up my Yiddish speech.
Hershl was a member of the Workmen's Circle, and served his organization, Branch 234 W.C. faithfully. At that time the Branch consisted of approximately 40 members (perhaps more). I do not recall the exact figure, because I had arrived at a time when it was already established, and besides, at that time I did not have too much time to devote to organizational work.
When the drive to build "The Arbeiter Ring Shul" (Workmen's Circle Children's School) began in 1926,I became active in that movement with great enthusiasm. At this time I was already rearing my first song, Reubin . . . a potential pupil for the Workmen's Circle Children's School. Prior to this, the first task was to raise money for the erection of a suitable building that would house the W.C. branch and a Yiddish school for the children of the members of the Workmen's Circle . . . a colossal undertaking. However, as it is said - "Where there's a will there's a way!" All can be accomplished where there is communal effort put into it. During the course of 1925 such an edifice was constructed, called the Workmen's Circle Lyceum, and it was a dream come true. The W.C. children's school was under way and was soon in full swing.
Our first teacher, Mr. Kenjersky, was, to us, as if sent from heaven. He helped us put the classroom in order and pointed out the necessary steps that should be taken to get children to attend. Soon our Shule opened with an enrollment of 43 pupils. These were the children of parents who were members of the Workmen's Circle-"The Arbeiter Ring. "
In those years we wrote to New York, and were able to secure the best talent that the Jewish stage had to offer, for our annual concerts. Very often we would also have a Yiddish poet, a lecturer or a speaker, who was brought in and was of great help in enlivening the organization.
The women of the W.C. organized themselves into a Mothers' Club. I was chosen as a representative of the Shule Executive to the newly formed active Mothers' Club. The Club undertook the responsibility of transporting the children to the Shule five days a week. They would then wait in the building for an hour, till the class ended, and take the children home again.
There was an awakening of Yiddish culture in the city of Dallas. Our concerts attracted large segments of the Jewish population, who previously knew nothing about the renaissance of Yiddish cultural activity in the United States. Our efforts in the reawakening of a Yiddish cultural movement also brought excellent results for the Yiddish Shule. All went well, and this brought us great joy. The Shule continued to grow, and with the arrival of the esteemed second teacher for our Shule, two years later, Mr. Lazerson, we were able to fill our thriving classroom with 60 children.
Years passed. Pupils were reared, educated and graduated. They, themselves, were then able, together with their gifted companions, to produce very beautiful concerts, on a highly artistic level, consisting of Yiddish folksongs, recitations, Yiddish dances, Sholem Aleichem evenings and the like.
The parents drew great joy from the achievements of their children, up to the time of the dreadful crisis years of the thirties1. At that time it became too difficult for the members and parents to bear the colossal expense of maintaining the Lyceum and the shule2. It was during this period that the two-year term of Mr. Lazerson ended. There were a number of parents of the pupils who found themselves unable to pay their tuition fees3 to the Shule. The difficulties of the times notwithstanding, many of the members and parents, with determination and with a great feeling of responsibility, undertook the paying of the tuition for those children in the aforementioned category.
I recall all of this with a great deal of satisfaction, in the knowledge that there were worthy Jews and progressive people who, up to the present, perseveringly adhere to their devotion to the Yiddish language and Yiddish culture.
Thus the Shule continued for several years, when a young couple arrived from New York . . . the teacher, Mr. Lefkowitz and his gifted and talented wife. Both were extremely dedicated teachers. They brought a new zest and new life into our Shule . . . as well as to the members of the Workmen's Circle.
In this tumultuous period of which I speak, there lived in Dallas a musician . . . the energetic Professor Faibish, a brilliant pianist and a remarkable personality. He had presented to the Shule Executive a novel idea. He had formulated plans to organize a mandolin orchestra from amongst the pupils of our Shule. And with very little hesitation, he proceeded to enroll those pupils with musical talent into the mandolin orchestra, with great hopes of also having a children's chorus.
However, we were living through a period of continuing and increasing crisis. All our exertions failed. We were unable to maintain our hard-won achievements . . . our goal of raising our children in a just and better world and of educating them in the Yiddish language. It had been our wish that they become familiar with the history of our people . . . and we hoped to implant in those youthful hearts a love for our Jewish people, and for the continuity of our heritage. It caused us great pain when we were compelled to give up our pride and joy . . . to lose our building, the Shule, the orchestra, chorus, and everything else that we had built . . . It all disappeared during the depression year of 1934.
However, the earth continued on its orbit . . . Our growing children were capable students in the public schools. Our hopes remained high. We felt that a time would come when we would rebuild that which was so painfully interrupted. However, as the saying goes: "Man proposes and G-d disposes." The struggle must go on. The world is not coming to an end.
* * * * Our third son, Norman, was born during the depression year of 1931, on the 9th of September. The Great Depression, which was such a tragedy for the millions of Americans, left us personally for some reason, practically unscathed. We were amongst the more fortunate ones, so to speak. Norman was a lovable and well-behaved child, with a smile that was a magnet for the entire Andres family. When Norman was an infant, after taking care of his needs, I would rush down to the store to help Hershl. Another of the duties that I assumed, was to take orders over the phone, in our bedroom upstairs, then hurry down to fill and deliver them in a small truck.
Isaac and his wife Anuta were blessed with two exceedingly talented sons, both of whom later became medical doctors and who, to this day, occupy highly respected positions in their chosen field of medicine. Issac, Anuta, their sons - Baruch and David, my mother-in-law and father-in-law; Hershl and myself - all lived in the same large two-family home, in which we raised our own gifted children.
The neighborhood, in which the house was located, was a 'mixed' one - with whites, blacks and a good many Mexicans living in close proximity. Our income, our daily bread, came from the immediate neighborhood. Our customers, which included all of the above, became our very good friends. Our children had for playmates, the barefoot children of the neighborhood . . . not being afflicted with the virus of "selectivity" in their choice of whom to play ball with on the green fields and hills of the wide Texan environment.
* * * * In 1937 I received the news that my father had gone to his eternal rest - at the age of ninety-eight. This was two years before the outbreak of World War 11. My only consolation was that he went peaceably to his grave - and did not live to become another pitiful victim amongst our unfortunate Jewish people. But I did regret the fact that I never kept my promise to him to come back and visit him.
* * * * Coming back to our third son, Norman, he grew up as a happy child and played with the children in the neighborhood. He started school in 1937. After graduating from the public elementary school, he suddenly, contracted the much-dreaded typhoid fever, and was rushed to the hospital, where he remained for quite a while. A long time elapsed before he was completely recovered.
At that time we moved into a nice neighborhood, into a beautiful two-storied house. This neighborhood had an excellent high school. It was there that Norman completed his studies . . . showing no inclination to go any further scholastically. To the present day he is a happy and congenial person and lives a carefree life. He volunteers to work amongst the elderly as well as with underprivileged children; and is a member of the "Dallas Emergency Club" for years.
It appears, he was destined to learn from people and not from books. He is deeply interested in - and conversant in all that pertains to the world of sports. He lives with me in our home on 6439 Deloache, in Dallas, Texas.
Our enterprises prospered, and the small wooden structure which housed our business was razed to make way for a new and more imposing building. This building was big enough for three large, separate stores. In time, the two brothers, Issac and Hershl severed their partnership, and each went his own way in the matter of business. Both were successful in their respective enterprises.
Issac and Anuta, now in their new store, moved from their old house to another dwelling close to their new place of business, and we remained with the business at 1919-1927 Pearl Street.
- 1. The depression
- 2. Shule- children's school
- 3. ln Yiddish, "Scharlimood"