Part 8 (written 2004)

(Continued from last week)

The clothing we had brought from Germany made us stand out from others like a sore thumb.

Therefore, one of our first outings was to the Lower East Side to be outfitted with new pants and jackets so that we would not be the laughingstock of the other students once we started attending school.

Having been on the run from the Nazis for a number of years, it was only natural that it had affected our entire way of thinking. Even after we got to New York, if, when walking on the street, I would encounter a group of kids coming toward me, I would cross the street in fright. It took me many years to get over that feeling. The same also applied to a policeman or anyone else in uniform. If I would see one, my knees would start to shake.

After some time Opa was able to start a hides and skins wholesale business in New York City, the same type of business that he had had in Germany. He started originally with a partner, also with experience in that line of work, but most important, with money to invest in it. When the partner, some years later, committed suicide over a personal issue, Opa was left holding the (almost empty) bag, when the partner’s family took their money out of the business.

Nevertheless, Opa struggled to continue the business on his own, but at least initially, on a much smaller scale. His warehouse was in lower Manhattan, in the Pearl Street area. Where there are now modern skyscrapers, there were then old buildings housing small businesses and warehouses. Opa rented space in one of those buildings, namely ground floor, basement and sub-basement. Aside from the workmen, huge rats occupied the sub-basement and it became the hunting ground (illegally) of a neighbor, a former Marine with his rifle.

It was in that building that Herman and I would spend many hours and days working with Opa, with little pay, in order to help him get his business up and running again after the loss of his partner. While working there I would come up with new ideas how to get the job done more quickly and efficiently. When I put a new idea before my father, he would not be happy with it. After all he had been doing it his way since he was a Lehrling (apprentice) in the 1920s, and here comes this Rotznase (snot-nose) of a son who wants to do things differently. I solved that problem by just doing things my way when he was not looking. When Opa then saw that I had produced double quantity in less time, he accepted it.

Many a Sunday we would spend working either in the warehouse, to make up for lost time due to Shabbat or holidays, or going to see customers in New York and New Jersey. Many a Saturday night we would get the truck and the workers and drive to a slaughterhouse in Flemington, New Jersey. You see in those days slaughtering of cows and calves etc. was still permitted in New Jersey. But the slaughterhouses had meat moving in and out of their freezers Monday through Friday and for sanitary reason could not permit the handling of hides and skins in the same area at the same time. Therefore, since for us Saturday was out, that left only Sunday if Opa wanted to retain the customer. We would get to the slaughterhouse late Saturday night and, with just short breaks, would work through to Sunday night when we would load the truck and drive back. In the summer time, in order to prevent spoilage, we had to first drive to the warehouse to unload the truck before heading home. We were stopped by the police on the highway back to New York several times. Remember it was war time. The police asked us to open the back of the truck, but when they saw the pile of bloody, smelly skins, they quickly told us to get out of there. That job taught us boys what work was.

By the way, for the same (smelly) reason we never had a problem getting a seat in the subway on the way home from the warehouse.

Back to School I

Not having had any regular schooling since Kristallnacht 1938, it was time for us to start all over. Although we had learned a little English in the last years in Frankfurt, it was hardly enough to have a conversation. As a result, when Herman and I began to attend public school the month after our arrival in the US, we were held back a semester and received special remedial help to learn English.

We started public school in February, 1941, at P.S. 115 on West 177th Street in Washington Heights, just a block from where we lived at that time. Herman started in 9B, which was the second semester of junior high school, and I started in 8B, which was the last semester in elementary school. Although we struggled with the English language for some time still, our schooling in Germany had put us considerably ahead of the other students in many subjects, particularly in math, science and geography. As a result, we were both able to skip a grade at the end of the first semester.

While finishing junior high school, I applied for admission to Stuyvesant High School in lower Manhattan, which was then, and still is now, one of the three best technical high schools in New York. I was admitted (to my surprise) and entered Stuyvesant in January, 1942. By taking full sessions during each summer, I was already able to graduate in May, 1944, with the graduation ceremony being held on the stage at Carnegie Hall.

(To be continued next week)

By Norbert Strauss

 Norbert Strauss is a Teaneck resident and has volunteered at Englewood Hospital for over 30,000 hours. He was general traffic manager and group VP at Philipp Brothers Inc., retiring in 1985. Prior to Englewood Hospital he was also a volunteer at the American Committee for Shaare Zedek Hospital for over 30 years, serving as treasurer and director. He frequently speaks to groups to relay his family’s escape from Nazi Germany in 1941.