Kentucky Girl

Today would have been my grandmother’s 95th birthday. I’ve been thinking about her non-stop since writing my previous post. I even had a dream about her last night in which we were at the old Covenant Club in Chicago eating creamed spinach and laughing hysterically while she told me family stories. My grandmother died in 1990 but I can still hear her voice ringing in my ears and the unique way she said “Danny,” extending the “a” sound with a slight accent. It wasn’t a Yiddish accent. Although her Jewish parents emigrated from Russia at the turn of the century, my grandmother was born in the unlikeliest of places: Newport, Kentucky. She was a real country girl.

This picture was taken in Kentucky during the first World War. That’s my grandmother in front with her brother Bernie. In the back are her mother, Sarah Schutz, and her sister Rose. It kills me that I can’t sit down with my grandmother and talk to her about her life, starting with her earliest memories of childhood as a tomboy in Kentucky. I know so little about her early years. My grandfather’s family was so large and powerful that marrying it into it meant that your previous identity was partly subsumed by the new dominant culture. When I was growing up everything was focused on my grandfather’s side of the family. We only saw my grandmother’s relatives once a year on the second night of Passover (being second-tiered relatives they were never invited to the first seder). So, while I can trace my grandfather’s journey at the age of three from Staszow, Poland to 35 Baldwin Street in Toronto, I barely know anything about my grandmother’s history. I remember a few dribs and drabs but even those stories involve my grandfather such as the terror my grandmother felt the first time she met her imposing in-laws, and how she was so clueless as a newlywed that for the first Shabbat dinner she made my grandfather in 1932 she didn’t realize she had to take out the little bag of giblets inside the chicken before she cooked it.

My grandmother had never finished high school in Kentucky because she had to go to work in her mother’s candy store. In the early 50s, when she was already a grandmother, she decided to go back to get her diploma. This was highly unusual back then but she did so well that she applied and got accepted at Northwestern University with a major in journalism. The notion of the grandma coed attending school with students younger than her own daughters was so unheard of that newspaper reporters followed her around on campus and wrote feature articles about her exploits for the Chicago Tribune and Sun-Times. She graduated at the top of her class in 1958 and wanted to go for a master’s degree but my grandfather put his foot down and said enough was enough. Too bad. My grandmother was one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. She read constantly and their Lake Shore Drive apartment became a kind of lending library for us, containing everything from the classics to the latest bestsellers. One of my most cherished possessions is my grandmother’s red leather-bound copy of “Madame Bovary.”

I desperately want to take my grandmother to tea in the Walnut Room at Marshall Field’s and talk for hours and hours about every aspect of her life, her dreams and hopes, her beliefs and fears, her triumphs and disappointments. Why oh why didn’t I do that while she was alive? Why do we so seldom acknowledge what the older generation can offer us in this insane youth-obsessed culture?

I saw a magnificent documentary last night called “Watermarks” about a group of champion women swimmers from the legendary Jewish sports club, Hakoah Vienna. Director Yaron Zilberman said he had this image of European Jews as intellectually gifted but physically frail and was surprised to learn about the astonishing Hakoah (which means “the strength” in Hebrew) athletes who broke many world records in a variety of sports until the organization was shut down following the Nazi annexation of Austria in 1938. Zilberman interviewed seven members of the women’s swimming team at their homes in Israel, England, and the United States. He then arranged for these amazing women, now in their mid to late-80s, to reunite and swim one last time in the pool in Vienna where they trained.

These kind, tough, seen-it-all women reminded me so much of my grandmother. Some of the swimmers were reluctant to return to Vienna for the reunion. Elisheva Schmidt-Susz, now a renowned child psychotherapist in Tel Aviv, had a chilling encounter in the taxi from the Vienna airport to her hotel which was captured on film. She was happily chatting to her mild-mannered taxi driver who asked her why she left Austria. “I was kicked out,” she said and then spoke about her experiences as a Jew living in Austria in the 1930s. “Bad times,” the driver concurred, “but it’s because you were all non-natives.” Elisheva, whose family had lived in Austria for over 400 hundred years, got quiet and stared out the window. Hanni Deutsch-Lux told the story of her sister Judith who broke 12 freestyle records in 1935 and, even with the large Star of David adorning her Hakoah swimsuit, was considered a national hero at a time when anti-Semitism was running rampant throughout the country. But her hero status changed when Judith refused to represent Austria at Hitler’s 1936 Olympics in Berlin. She was stripped of all her medals by the Austrian government, deleted from the record books, and permanently banned from competition. (Her medals were finally returned to her in 1995.)

I hope this inspiring film wins an Oscar next year. Listening to these vibrant, intelligent, warm, funny women, I thought how much more interesting they are than the vapid young people all the commercials tell us we want to be around. Give me the weather-worn face, irascible wit, and tell-it-like-it-is attitude of an elderly Jewish woman any day of the week—that’s who I want to sit next to at a dinner party. I went to a screening last week of a new documentary about Hollywood and the Holocaust (premiering tonight on AMC) and I started talking to screenwriter Norma Barzman who is interviewed in the film. She is 85 now and recently published a book about the blacklist (she's the one who led the protests on the Motion Picture Academy for giving Elia Kazan an honorary Oscar). I wish I could have talked to her longer, what an extraordinary woman. Glad to hear that she's working on her third book because she has enough life experiences for 10. I’m sad that so many of the great older women in my family are no longer with us and it pains me that my daughter will not grow up with my grandmother and mother as regular fixtures in her life, hearing their stories, songs, and endless kvelling and kvetching. I urge every one of you with older relatives to grab the nearest digital video camera or cassette recorder and start talking to them about every detail of their long, fascinating lives.

I remember having dinner with my grandparents 30 years ago this very night. I was 15 years old and my grandmother was showing me the new pass she just received to ride the Chicago transit system at a reduced fare now that she was a senior citizen. At the time I thought that turning 65 put my grandmother one step away from senility and obsolescence. How ridiculous. She was as sharp as a tack until she died of esophagal cancer at the age of 80. Oh, how I miss her, and how I wish I could hear her say my name one last time.

Happy Birthday, Bub.

Comments

[your sister]

Danny,
You are so right. We must get the stories down. I'm crying. And not because I fell flat on my face today and walked into a pole tonight....but because of your beautiful post. I really miss Bub too.

[Tamar]

This is, indeed, a beautiful post. I was thinking about your grandmother's courage and strength for going back to school. We take that for granted today. I returned to college at age 39 to do all three degrees and I felt like a pioneer treading on magical, almost forbidden turf. What fantastic courage it took for your grandmother - your "bub."

So interesting to read about those athletic women and their return to Vienna. I will definitely look out for that movie.

Just as an aside - Gilad's father's family name is Bub. So I was Tamar Bub for awhile until we changed it to a Hebrew name (Barkan) for Gilad when we were in Israel. Not quite the same or as relevant as your darling "bub" - just associative, I guess.

[Uncle Paul]

What a blessing for your ADD-addled uncle to have a nephew such as you with your repository of memories and photographs. The least I could do was to e-mail Howard Schutz to turn him on to your blog and to ask him to help you (and us) with Schutz memories.
I'm doing my best to be your flak---after getting a Purim e-mail greeting from Asher K., I passed on to another member of that side of the family info on your blog.
P.S.: Glad you're spelling Staszow right these days.
P.S.S.: Hi, mom! Your grandson is something else!

[david]

Danny:

Wow. Another one from, and for, the National Danny Miller Archives. The Smithsonian needs a new wing.

My mom quit college to marry my dad (she was 18, he was 24). When I was in, I think, 3rd grade, she went back to school. She got her undergrad from Mundelein College. She shlepped out there from Hyde Park every week, because Mundelein was one of the first places that started offering classes geared to adults who wanted to complete degrees.

Mom got her PhD in English literature the day after I got my high school diploma. I still haven't caught up with her.

Long may the Bubs wave!

[Tamar]

There go "Bubs" again and I think of all of Gilad's extended family. And to think that I was one of those "Bubs" once. I wonder if I will ever be a "bub" in the sense you all mean? I guess that depends on Gilad (Bub) Barkan. Although I am a step-"bub" (even as we speak).

[Shana]

In the late 1800's and early 1900's, lots of Russian Jewish families (such as my own grandparents) settled in Newport, Ky. The last Shul closed in 1965 when I was 12. It stood at the corner of 5th and Saratoga. I still have a prayer book from there. When did your grandmother's mishpocheh move from Newport? Did her family live on Monmouth St., York Street or...? What kind of business were they in? Newport wasn't and isn't in the county. It's part of Greater Cincinnati and always has been. Check out www.newportonthelevee.com and you'll see what I mean. Oh yes, finding your site was pure accidental and I actually went to a Newport/Covington, KY. Jewish family Reunion. Good Pasach!

[Ed Wolf]

My Jewish family lived in Newport in the 1890's and no records exist as to how they got there. I suspect that some of them are from the same town in Russia. Can we pool our information about Newport jews. I have the census records and give you the name of every russian, polish, german, or austrian person who lived there then

[Wendy Leve]

I stumbled on your blog this morning as I was looking for information on the Covenant Club in Chicago, particularly the recipe for their creamed spinach.

My Mother used to have a typed written copy of the recipe from the club, which she made every Thanksgiving for years. No one knows what happened to the card, and my mother who is 80 years old, can not remember exactly what she did to make the recipe.

The spinach was so good, that from about the age of four, I was the only child I knew that preferred to eat the vegetable to the turkey on Thanksgiving day!

I am so glad to have found someone else who has fond memories attached to the recipe. Your Grandmother sounds like an amazing woman. Thank you for your fantastic blog and for sharing her with the rest of us.

Happy Thanksgiving!

[Myra Sizemore]

Although my family has no Jewish tradition, we are descended from Dillion Asher, who is famous in our region of Kentucky. He was part of the Sizemore family descended from George All Sizemore, who was descended from the earliest European/Indian people who rapidly populated Kentucky.

We are certain of Dillion Asher's Jewish heritage, but as far as I have been able to ascertain, we only know that he was perhaps of Russian/Polish origin.

If anyone who might read this has information that could help piece together a picture of our Jewish heritage, we would be appreciative. Also, if anyone has questions about their possible connection to our family, I would be happy to try to help.

The interesting thing is my "want-ta-be longing for a Jewish connection for years before learning of our family's actual lineage. It makes me believe in "Genetic Memory".

Sincerely,
Myra Sizemore

[Rachael]

Shalom,
I found your blog because I was searching for information on the Temples in Newport Kentucky from the 1800's to mid 1900's. My Jewish family came from Baden Germany (Maier) and I wanted to find out more about the Synagogues back then. The American Israelite had an article some time ago about Lion figures from those Temples that are the oldest in the world -- If I am quoting correctly -- BUt I was trying to find information some how on the net about the Jewish population of that day in Newport Ky..Do you have any information about any of this? Do you know which Temple the member information was transfered to when these Temples closed?

Best regards,
Rachael

[RaDonna Fox]

Dillion's family came from Scotland. More on him can be found at FamilySearch.org. I am realated to him as well and the Sizemores. Take care.