975 THE LOOK OF LOVE Part 15 Corned Beef on Rye …

As you've seen how history, specifically WWI, had extended my father's separation from his father for a period of years, let's leap over my family's sojourn in Palestine, which proved hugely disappointing after the great depression caused their pioneering experience to fail to meet Yacob's idealistic expectations.

When this next chapter of history (which profoundly reshaped the path of my father's life) unfolds before your eyes, we'll watch the paternal side of my family plant roots in the same major Midwest metropolis from which my grandpa's idealistic state of mind had seen fit to uproot his wife and offspring less than a year before.  However, before we move forward, I think it's fair to say that upon grasping a deeper look into Grandpa's changing mind sets, we'll see our patriarch's trains of thought growing ever more flexible in that no matter how often he'd flailed financially about, he'd never failed to stand up after falling flat on his face, so determined was he to meet familial needs, and the fact that this strong-minded man had the gumption to brush yesterday's dust off of his sense of pride offered Grandpa's spirit the strength and his mind the freedom to try, try again to set his sights upon accomplishing new goals, which his idealistic mind had deemed achievable, next :) 

Right before The Great Depression hit hard, Grandma and Grandpa surmised that during times of prosperity or destitution, people of all ages had need to eat, and with that astute thought in mind, the scholar and his wife, opened a deli.

Upon returning from Palestine, that same plan, 'People need to eat; let's open a deli', filled my grandparent's minds with hope, again.  And when all seems lost, hope is the mainstay that gets a breadwinner's spirit to rise from his bed.

Though money, during the 1930's, proved more than tight, all around, Yacob must have managed to invest what little he had left in paying the first month's rent on a storefront, facing a busy intersection, and as location is everything, business, if not brisk, began trickling in.  Though the deli provided my family with income and nourishment, some time would pass before Yacob could afford an apartment large enough to comfortably accommodate his family of five.  Even so, my family needed a place to call home.

Putting his immigrant's ever-inventive brain to work, my grandpa moved his family into the deli's back room, which, now, served a double purpose:  Along with providing the fledgling business with storage space, Grandma invoked her sense of creativity, thus 'creating' a semblance of 'home' in which her three offspring could co-exist; I mean, seriously, any thoughts of privacy in this drab, dank, colorless storage room proved a figment of imagination.  (Thus deepening my sense of insight into Dad's boundless delight while building his dream home for our family when I was ten.)

Though it was not unusual during the early 1930's for families to huddle, together, seeking safety, shelter and warmth from harshly frigid winters in one room while wind-swept sleet and snow piled high outside, the fact that my family called the storage room, home, proved a spartan existence for five people sharing a sink and toilet but no shower or tub.  Thus did Grandpa prove exceptionally grateful when the candy man offered a timely suggestion for change, which saw the deli's cash register ring in a steady flow of cash …

As every human mind is programmed to unconsciously fill in a story's blanks with details born of imagination, I feel compelled to repeat this fact:  If a story teller spares so much as one vital detail, your perception may fly off course, concerning that which is true from that which is not.  And often times, we're unaware of those moments when our active imaginations turn fact into fiction.  For example:  When I wrote that no baths or showers were seen in the storage room, did you wonder where my family bathed?  Did you picture parents and offspring taking turns sponging off in the sink?  Did you wonder if my family showered elsewhere?  At some point, did your mind stop wondering and begin to believe that thoughts you'd conjured up must be true?  If so, then hopefully, on second thought, you may have reconsidered the fact that without asking pertinent questions, you had no way of knowing the honest to goodness truth.  See what I mean when I say:  Our first thoughts are not always our best thoughts, because so often our thoughts (especially defensive thoughts) prove imaginary in nature.

And what of sleeping arrangements?  What might you have wondered about that?  When a story told, leaves questions hanging in the air, how often do you listen, passively, with no clue as to when your brain is filling in blanks with figments of imagination rather than maintaining your focus upon processing information so deeply as to surmise when to ask pertinent questions, aloud?  Though questioning can take courage, listening actively can clear up misunderstandings before they catch fire.

Please be aware that I'm not suggesting that my family had it harder than most.  I'm suggesting that each one learns to cope with life's harsh realities in positively focused or negatively focused ways, and often times, that which we 'choose' as our way depends upon acquired traits, adopted while watching the people who raised us.  If the person who seems to win the most arguments in your house yells louder and longer than anyone else, you might unconsciously 'choose' to win control over others in a similar fashion—unless Lady Luck, smiling in your direction, happens to open opportunity's door, welcoming you to consider logical reason to embrace change for the better for everyone concerned by filling your think tank with speaking and listening skills (Couldn't help that plug … it's just the way my mind has been re-trained to work, most especially when tested with duress :)

It's important to note that when neither story teller nor listener has reason to feel defensive, clearing up mysteries by asking for details proves easy.  In the absence of defensive reactiveness, peaceful conversations are free of electrical sparks, which tense up the logical thought processing center of the brain, thus filling the mind with electrical static that interferes with listening acuity.

Since the storage room did not offer sufficient space for five to sleep or any sense of modesty, much less a moment of privacy, my grandparents rented a bedroom in a boarding house, where my aunts slept and showered.  Fortunately, for an additional fee, the rest of my family showered there, as well.

So here is the first main point of today's post:  If I've gotten any of these details wrong, none prove so vital as to mislead you to darken or lighten your perceptions, concerning the character traits of any of the hard working people involved.

As to the second main point:  Clearly, the adults in my family had need to beef up their income with more than corned beef and salami.  So, when the candyman had something of significance to say, Yacob, Bailey and Jack asked for details while listening closely, actively, avidly, and in no way did they defensively turn a deaf ear or allow personal thoughts to drift in and out of their minds, thus fogging up information imparted, which proved vital to the family's well being.  At those times when accuracy proves necessary, common sense suggests that acute listening skills absorbs information offered in good faith with attention to detail.  And here's why that's true:  All too often, we hear what we fear or we hear what we want to believe rather than absorbing the good sense inherent in that which has actually been said.

As to offering you the detailed account of that which the candy man suggested to boost my family's business—Tomorrow is only a day away … :)
Your friend,
Annie

974 THE LOOK OF LOVE Part 14 Prohibition is Repealed!

Before diving more deeply into my father's experiences with The Great Depression, I'd like to describe the vital part that history plays in shaping every person's life.  In fact, history often plays a more significant role than we consciously realize until time spent in reflection broadens our ability to view the narrowness of personal perception with a greater sense of objectivity—which expands attitudes of rigidity toward freely embracing flexibility of thought.

As rigid standards soften toward heartfelt flexibility, comfort zones expand, naturally.  Once an experience, which had felt darkly 'wrong', feels heaven sent, the warmth of the sun melts dark clouds of inner conflict away for this reason:  Flexibility of thought offers the human mind fresh opportunities to brainstorm toward reconsidering yesterday's trains of thought in hopes of creating change for the betterment of everyone concerned.

(For example, I'm certain that the depression had great bearing on the fact that financial aid had failed to materialize in the holy land when leadership had made promises that proved too rich to keep once countless men, named 'Mr. Moneybags', found themselves lining up in bread lines, feeling utterly confounded, while trying to figure out how to dig themselves out of their own financial holes.  And BTW, upon editing yesterday's post, a few delectable details popped into my mind, concerning my father's heartfelt reunion with his beloved Uncle Nuete in Jerusalem, which took place in 1967 at the outbreak of the seven day, Yom Kippur War, so if reason for their reunion peaks your interest, please stop gnashing your teeth at my offering you this chance to glance back at post 973, because, as always—the choice is up to you :) 

Now, let's move on to this next morsel of American history, which I chose to lift from the internet for this reason:  The article below will surely deepen our understanding, concerning the significant part that the 21st Amendment to the U.S. Constitution played in shaping the life that my mother, sister Lauren and I shared with my father, during the 1940's, because fate rarely causes unexpected change to affect only one life.

In truth, insight into the ways that fate inspires soul searching, suggests that an unexpected change of heart may affect one person more deeply than another until both, who have shared a mesmerizing experience, spend time in reflection, and eventually, if awareness peaks, landing both minds on the same page, that's why we say timing, concerning the natural expansion of each person's comfort zone, is—everything—especially when change for the betterment of all concerned depends upon reconsidering decisions made before insight into feeling guilty vs. being guilty of wrong doing is mutually understood.

When temperance laws proved too restrictive, countless good souls, innocent of wrong doing, had been declared guilty of law breaking and imprisoned—unnecessarily.  Today, the law has been justifiably modified to suggest that those who imbibe within self-respecting limits of moderation accept responsibility for monitoring their desires by making decisions that meet personal needs while considering the safety of others, and thus, when we review thoughts concerning self empowered moderation, common sense suggests that insight into emotional maturity offers deep thinking individuals sound reason to reconsider laws in need of repealing or tweaking, rather than continuing to imprison good souls, who prove innocent of wrong doing.

It's become intuitively clear to me that individuals, who find safe haven in which to imbibe within mature limits of moderation, are not to be confused with those who harm others by driving drunk.  And in keeping with that train of thought, I've chosen to post this article, which, as you shall see, will affect unexpected change for the better, first in our nation's history, then in the life of my father, the farmer, and later, in my mother's life, as well …

"On December 5, 1933, the 21st Amendment to the U.S. Constitution is ratified, repealing the 18th Amendment and bringing an end to the era of national prohibition of alcohol in America. At 5:32 p.m. EST, Utah became the 36th state to ratify the amendment, achieving the requisite three-fourths majority of states' approval. Pennsylvania and Ohio had ratified it earlier in the day.

The movement for the prohibition of alcohol began in the early 19th century, when Americans concerned about the adverse effects of drinking began forming temperance societies. By the late 19th century, these groups had become a powerful political force, campaigning on the state level and calling for national liquor abstinence. Several states outlawed the manufacture or sale of alcohol within their own borders. In December 1917, the 18th Amendment, prohibiting the "manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors for beverage purposes," was passed by Congress and sent to the states for ratification. On January 29, 1919, the 18th Amendment achieved the necessary three-fourths majority of state ratification. Prohibition essentially began in June of that year, but the amendment did not officially take effect until January 29, 1920.

In the meantime, Congress passed the Volstead Act on October 28, 1919, over PresidentWoodrow Wilson's veto. The Volstead Act provided for the enforcement of Prohibition, including the creation of a special Prohibition unit of the Treasury Department. In its first six months, the unit destroyed thousands of illicit stills run by bootleggers. However, federal agents and police did little more than slow the flow of booze, and organized crime flourished in America. Large-scale bootleggers like Al Capone of Chicago built criminal empires out of illegal distribution efforts, and federal and state governments lost billions in tax revenue. In most urban areas, the individual consumption of alcohol was largely tolerated and drinkers gathered at "speakeasies," the Prohibition-era term for saloons.

Prohibition, failing fully to enforce sobriety and costing billions, rapidly lost popular support in the early 1930s. In 1933, the 21st Amendment to the Constitution was passed and ratified, ending national Prohibition. After the repeal of the 18th Amendment, some states continued Prohibition by maintaining statewide temperance laws. Mississippi, the last dry state in the Union, ended Prohibition in 1966."

Before returning our attention to my father's life in 1934, I feel inclined to slip this detail into today's post:  When Will and I married in 1966, our wedding celebration took place in a small town that was still dry … and that location was chosen by my father for reasons which will be disclosed in a story, concerning a failed business venture, which will unfold before your eyes, some time down the road … as for now, let's see how corned beef on rye provided my grandpa's family of five with more than physical sustenance upon their return to the states in the late summer of 1933 when Yacob's and Jack's plight at finding themselves unemployed proved so widespread as to necessitate long lines where Mr. Moneybags stood humbly behind Joe Blow in hopes of filling loved ones' empty tummies with hand outs of life-sustaining bread—suggestive of the fact that when hunger goes unsatiated, over long, reflection, concerning decisions made in good faith in times past, may prove to be in serious need of reconsideration before the spirits of good people have reason to feel uplifted, all around …
Uh wait—one more thing just popped into my mind:

We mate for several reasons
Here are just four:
We mate to populate the earth
We mate because two heads, on the same page, prove better than one
We mate because love, rather than money, makes the world go round
We mate because nothing feels as magically uplifting as
Love, rising from the ashes—
Rekindling warmth and brightness of being—
Both of which prove indescribably fulfilling when
A pair of soulmates quest toward creating safe haven
In the aftermath of time spent in reflective separation …
And with thanks for having offered me this opportunity to
Voice my belief in the expansive thus lasting nature of loving intuitively
I'll wrap up today's train of thought by suggesting that
The human heart will always quest toward insight into
Loving each other with a greater degree of flexibility, which
Accompanies purity of mind and spirit …
And speaking as one whose heart
Continues to work at achieving a goal as mutually fulfilling as that …
Your friend, Annie, wishes you and yours a five star day
:) ANCORA EMPARO …

973 THE LOOK OF LOVE Part 13 Leap Frog: From Idealism to Disillusionment to Agricultural College … And More

Saturday, March 29, 2014
Though I seem to be functioning at an even keel, if you peer below the surface, insight suggests waves of turbulence repressed deep inside my mind, because over these past several weeks, I've found myself easily confused, suggestive of emotional static displacing logical thought.  For example, I'm not certain as to whether Friday's post #972 had been published after the editing process was complete, because, this morning, I found it in drafts.  So in case you missed reading yesterday's post, please check back before starting today's, or you may end up feeling as confused as I've been since my mother's passing, coupled with the fact that Will's next psa test is coming up, and if his numbers do not improve, two months of daily radiation lie directly ahead—and if you wonder at my ability to write stories in this state of mind, well the brain is made up of many compartments, and my story-telling frame of mind seems to function fine at this time, as long as I'm writing about my parents' youth.

Having clarified my current state of mind, let's throw our time machine into reverse, so we can see where my grandpa's idealistic thought processing patterns led his family to sail off to, next, because reminiscing over my parents' stories keeps my spirit afloat.  As long as my spirit is afloat (and though the depth of my loss draws forth my awareness of feeling weepy) I can buoy Will's frame of mind as his next psa test draws near.  It's as though intuition has been suspending my emotional reaction until some time in the near future, when I'll feel free to stop holding my breath, let down my hair and free tears, dammed up inside, to flow, as in—there she blows …

So okay, here we are back in 1933, and as soon as our seat belts are unbuckled, let's walk down the gangplank and set foot upon the continent where my grandpa's tendency toward embracing idealistic trains of thought encouraged his family to settle, next—suggesting that the strong-hearted spirits of guys and gals, imbued with our family genes, simply won't stay down for the count …

If you ask why my grandfather had need to pack up his family and sail across the sea a second time, I'd reply:  Yacob had learned that immigrant life in the U.S. provided no free lunch, most expecially during The Great Depression, and as diehard idealists are allergic to disillusionment, my grandpa got itchy for greener pastures, which meant selling nearly everything he'd worked so hard to own in order to book passage for his family of five to sail across the ocean—however, rather than returning to Poland, idealism marched Yacob's active mind forward toward embracing Zionism …

As told to me by my father, it did not take much for the Zionist movement to convince my grandpa that, upon venturing into Palestine, his family of five would assuredly be amongst those who would transform this Mid Eastern wasteland … uh, I mean desert habitat into a thriving agricultural Mecca ...

As it turns out, Yacob must have proved as persuasive as he had been readily persuaded, because in short order, my grandpa inspired my father, by now, a high school graduate, to embrace his father's positive attitude in that Jack felt so eager to absorb the newest innovations in desert irrigation that, upon packing his things in a nap sack, my eighteen-year old father hitch-hiked cross country to Pennsylvania, where he'd been accepted into agricultural college.

Early one evening while my dad was hitching rides, the heavens opened up and it poured cats and dogs, so being short on funds and soaked to the skin, Jack came up with a simple plan that offered him safe haven from the fiercely windy storm in that he'd convinced the local police to offer him shelter, dinner and a cot inside a cell.  Thus with this positive, inventive attitude stoking his mind, Jack arrived at farm school in high spirits and as was his habit, my father whistled while he'd worked in preparation for a future filled with success once his pioneering adventures in Palestine got underway.

Dad's enthusiastic spirit loved every new experience he'd encountered throughout his two years in farm school.  How do I know that to be true?  During my childhood, Dad's eyes shone with delight whenever he'd regale my friends, invited to dinner-sleepovers, with tales of his adventurous interactions with Mother Nature.

I especially remember one Fiday night when Grandma Ella, face darkening with exasperation, pushed her chair back from our formal dining room table and ran furiously out of the room, muttering Yiddish expletives under her breath, so agast was she, while Dad, in high spirits, did not miss a beat describing his vividly detailed account of heavily muscled, full grown bulls, weighing over 2000 pounds, instinctively lowering their heads while charging across fields, aiming to leap high enough to mount unsuspecting cows from the rear, bellowing for all within earshot to hear, during the mating season.

I mean, imagine the tone of that ribald conversation taking place while Grandma Ella's matzoh balls, floating light as air in bowls of steamy, savory chicken soup, melted in the shocked-to-the-max mouths of our dropped-jawed, young dinner guests.  Guess it's safe to say that no topic of conversation was considered too indelicate to be discussed on the Sabbath in our home, at least that proved true as long as Dad, being king of his castle, reigned supreme on his throne :)

I remember Springtime, when my father's lushly colored garden proved him as avid a gardener as one of our home movies shows Dad setting a fine figure on horseback, one hand controlling the reins while the other held five year old me securely in front of him on the western saddle, where I'd gripped the horn with both hands, and with my long, dark braids bouncing up and down, the flickering reel of film shows my high flying spirit shining forth from a pair of blue eyes, sparkling with pure delight, so completely enthralled had I felt while cantering atop this powerful steed with my sense of safety nesting trustfully within the pocket of Dad's love for me …

As long as I'd felt embraced within my father's strong spirited sense of safe keeping, my youthful sense of adventure matched his, as seen, years later, when I'd delighted in riding horseback, twice weekly, cantering along the canal before trusting my steed to climb to the top of the mountain behind my desert home—Wow!—I just likened my choice of dwelling in the desert to Dad's choice to irrigate the desert, so many years ago—Whoops, here I go getting too far ahead of myself; I mean, today's post is no where near that point in my parents' love story where Jennie and Jack have so much as met, suggesting that we circle back to the holy land, where promises made in 1933, concerning irrigating the sandy terrain of this parched and thirsty land, would not come true until the Zionist Movement, which had been in earnest, had raised sufficient funds, years after The Great Depression was over.  And though my father felt rightfully, deeply disappointed to see his education lay as fallow as did the promised land when farm equipment, necessary for success, had failed to materialize, reflection suggests that the fault of that failure had been a combination of timing and fate, meaning that he and Grandpa had not been duped.

Even so, you can imagine Grandpa's idealistic spirit feeling seriously dejected, again, suggesting the wisdom of consciously working to develop an ever deepening awareness of self-defeating patterns.  (As for me, I know myself not to leap into any experience with both feet—no matter how desirable—without first carefully considering consequences on all sides …)

As my aunts had enjoyed their childhood in the states, this pair of city-bred pre-teens dug in their heels, insisting that, upon turning eighteen, both would determinedly sail back to the good, old civilized USA in hopes of, one day, attending colleges with English being the primary language.  When both Sari and Risa became quite ill, and no doctor could be found, the pilot light on my grandpa's sense of disillusionment did more than flicker back to life.  In fact, over the next few months, Yacob's darkening attitude concurred with that of his daughters, who'd understandably preferred the comforts of citified civilization over pioneering without benefit of aid in the barren lands of Palestine.

As neither promised tools nor financial aid were forthcoming, premature promises on the part of Zionist leadership resembled fool's gold, and as Yacob's daughters' lingering illness undermined their parents' hopes for all five to thrive, spirits sunk, while tummies, rumbling with hunger, caused my grandpa's disillusioned grumblings to flare, anew, day after day, until Yacob's sights zeroed in on ocean crossing number three.

(Interestingly, Jack and Jennie had been vacationing in Israel when the Yom Kippur War broke out in 1967.  At that time, Jack, who'd reached the age of 54, enjoyed a joyous, tearful reunion with his Uncle Nuete, who'd wisely moved to Jerusalem, several years before Nazi Germany attacked Poland, and thus did Nuete and his family escape the unfathomable fate of those unfortunates who'd been herded into boxcars, chugging toward concentration camps, where humanity was inhumanely stripped of all dignity when naked and gasping for breath, the lives of men, women and children had been systematically showered with poisoned gas, burned in crematoriums and buried, by their own, in graves too massive for sanity to behold.

Thus does wartime classically depict the worst of times and the best of times, suggesting, once again, that timing is everything, because—once WWII got underway and factories in the USA fired up, opportunities for employment improved to such an extent that Nuete's pioneering adventures in Palestine had flourished in ways that proved impossible, several years earlier, for Yacob and Jack.

Though my Grandpa's younger brother wrote letter after letter to the states, attempting to convince his older brother's family to return to the holy land, thereby reuniting with extented family during the late thirties, Grandpa had finally had enough of starting over from scratch—and perhaps we can attribute that decision to timing, as well, because I wouldn't be surprised if age had factored into Grandpa's choice to stay put in the Midwest.  You see, Nuete, who'd only uprooted, once, had been ten years younger than his brother, Yacob, ten years older than his beloved nephew, Jack—suggesting, upon second thought, that Nuete had been more older brother than father figure to his absent brother's child.

At any rate, if Grandpa had decided to give the USA a second chance in 1933, then that left twenty-year old Jack to wrestle with this heart-wrenching choice:  Career over family or family over career. As Jack had been a child of seven, crying inconsolably upon separating from his beloved Uncle Neute, who'd proved a loving, male authority figure until Bailey and her small son had sailed away from Poland, forever, my father chose to maintain familial bonds with his parents and sisters, when all five set sail across the sea.  As Jack had no crystal ball, he'd no clue that Nuete would, one day, make his home in Palestine.  So though my father would not have freely chosen to abandon his passion for innovative agricultural methodology, his hearty spirit had focused upon keeping his family intact.  Thus, just as Yacob had had to abandon his chosen profession to earn his keep at the age of twenty, so did Jack sail away from his chosen profession, as in—like father, like son.

A couple of weeks ago, while sitting next to my mom's bed with my 91 year old, Aunt Risa, I'd thought to ask how her father had managed to come up with five ocean passages when her family had returned to the states, destitute.  Aunt Risa's response was instantaneous:  She had no clue.

So much for the story I'd heard in the past, suggesting that Yacob had treasure with which to make a trade.  As the earlier version of this story went, my grandma had insisted upon schlepping her prized clothes washer and stove from the states to the holy land, where technologically advanced machines proved so rare that Grandpa was offered enough cash to purchase passage for five, weary pioneers, who, upon sailing to America, had agreed that life behind door number two offered more prizes to hard working men and women than had door number one or door number three … suggesting, once again, that, along with attitude, timing is everything, which is why it proves wise to reflect over decisions in need of reconsideration in hopes that creative thought processing will produce lasting solutions so that yesterday's conflicts don't raise their heads, anew.  (I'm going to email Aunt Risa and ask about that washer and stove …)

Just as Yacob, who'd sailed from Poland to America, circa 1913, had persuaded his family to sail from America to Palestine, circa 1933, all five circled back to America, later, that same year.  And upon disembarking, this time, my Grandma and Grandpa put their heads together in hopes of planting roots (figuratively) so deep within fertile Midwest soil that within the next few posts, you and I will rejoice to see my beloved dad sweep my precious mother off her dancing feet and into his car, where his thoughts of a good time with a hot babe were dashed by this young woman, who'd wisely introduced Jack to her four cousins before accepting this dashing dude's invitation to grab some dinner, and so if Jennie's intuition had erred, and Romeo tried any funny stuff, her cousins could play witness in case of foul play!

As to what took place once Juliet had been swept into Jack's Romeo-machine, please tune in tomorrow—Oh wait—see what I mean about my brain feeling fuzzy, easily confused—

As educated agriculturalists, technologically proficient in desert irrigation, were not in high demand in any major Midwestern metropolis, most especially during the depression, we need to see how the men of the house, namely, Yacob and young, strapping Jack, along with my Grandma Bailey had brainstormed until a simple plan came to mind by which this trio of adults managed to feed, shelter and support each other as well as a pair of bright, pre-teen-aged girls, both of whom felt overjoyed, more than either had thought possible, upon walking into their respective classes on their first day back to school …

Surely you've heard, as have I, how often people say:  'I didn't appreciate what I had till it was gone'.  Well, with that thought in mind, I've chosen to live my life to the fullest, every day, suggesting that if you have won my love and, even more important, my trust, I'll do my best to express my thoughts, clearly, while wearing my heart on my sleeve, whether in your presence or not … and if you ask why I'd freely choose to expose my vulnerability, my reply would be most sincere:  When it comes to offering the best of oneself to everyone we love and trust, vulnerability proves to be a strength …  on the other hand, give me reason, repeatedly, to withdraw my trust, and I'll be quiet as a mouse—not just any mouse—Mighty Mouse …

972 THE LOOK OF LOVE Part 12 The Little Greenhorn

Once the seas were safe for families to set sail, Jack, holding fast to Bailey's hand, was seen walking down the gangplank into the new world, and … paraphrasing my dad:  'I was a bright-eyed, seven and a half year old, little greenhorn, who couldn’t speak a word of English, looking up at all the men standing on the dock, wondering which stranger would step toward me and prove to be my father …’

Finally, after eight years of separation, Bailey was reunited with her beloved Yacob, and my father met his father, at last.  If you ask how I know Bailey had adored Yacob, my father had often expressed his mother's eyes shining with love whenever his father walked into the room.  (Once again, hero worship runs rampant in our family :)

As you can imagine, my grandpa had spent years acclimating to big city life in America, whereas his wife and child, exclaiming in Yiddish, over this and that, found themselves wide-eyed, overwhelmed and disoriented as bustling crowds, hurrying here and there, jostled the pair, who could not stop gawking in awe at skyscrapers, climbing higher than any building they'd ever imagined.

Within a year, my Aunt Sari was born.  A year later, came Aunt Risa.  And with that, my grandparents' family was complete.  However, if you think that Jack's arrival in the new world suggests it's time for us to leap across the timeline, so my father can can cross a crowded room and sweep curvaceous Jennie off her feet and into his car, please think, again, because, my grandpa, Yacob, the diehard idealist, had not done with crossing oceans, and when next he'd accomplished the improbable, his wife, adult son and two preteen daughters were in tow.

So, before young Jack can meet the dark eyed, raven haired beauty, who'd prove to be the love of his life, we need to understand events which had propelled Yacob's strong sense of idealism to pack up his family after selling everything they'd owned (except for my grandma's prized clothes washer and stove, which Bailey had wisely refused to leave behind) in order to set sail across the expanse of the deep, blue sea, again …Geez!

971 THE LOOK OF LOVE Part 11. Timing Is Everything

By Spring of 1917 Yacob had saved passage for Bailey and three and a half year old Jack to sail across the sea, however, before mother and child could pack up for their lengthy voyage, fate threw my family this curve: On April  6, 1917, the United States Congress sanctioned President Wilson's declaration of war on Germany, and as the open sea had become a furious battlefield, young Jack's first ocean crossing was wisely postponed—for years.  As to the information below, you'll find facts concerning the Lusitania that came as a surprise to me ...

Wikipedia:

Outbreak of World War I[edit]

When Lusitania was built, her construction and operating expenses were subsidised by the British government, with the proviso that she could be converted to an Armed Merchant Cruiser if need be. A secret compartment was designed in for the purpose of carrying arms and ammunition.^[39] When war was declared the Lusitania was requisitioned by the British Admiralty as an armed merchant cruiser, and she was put on the official list of AMCs. Lusitania remained on the official AMC list and was listed as an auxiliary cruiser in the 1914 edition of Jane's All the World's Fighting Ships, along with Mauretania.^{[4][40][41][42]}

The Declaration of Paris codified the rules for naval engagements involving civilian vessels. The so-called Cruiser Rules required that the crew and passengers of civilian ships must be safeguarded in the event that the ship is to be confiscated or sunk. These rules also placed some onus on the ship itself, in that the merchant ship had to be flying its own flag, and not pretending to be of a different nationality. Also, it had to stop when confronted and allow itself to be boarded and searched, and it was not allowed to be armed or to take any hostile or evasive actions.^[43] However when war was declared, British merchant ships were given orders to ram submarines that surfaced to implement warnings as per the Cruiser Rules.^{[4][5][6][7][8]}

At the outbreak of hostilities, fears for the safety of Lusitania and other great liners ran high. During the ship's first east-bound crossing after the war started, she was painted in a drab grey colour scheme in an attempt to mask her identity and make her more difficult to detect visually. When it turned out that the German Navy was kept in check by the Royal Navy, and their commerce threat almost entirely evaporated, it very soon seemed that the Atlantic was safe for ships like Lusitania, if the bookings justified the expense of keeping them in service.

Germany's declared exclusion zone of February 1915. Ships within this area were liable to search and attack

Many of the large liners were laid up over the autumn and winter of 1914–1915, in part due to falling demand for passenger travel across the Atlantic, and in part to protect them from damage due to mines or other dangers. Among the most recognisable of these liners, some were eventually used as troop transports, while others became hospital ships. Lusitania remained in commercial service; although bookings aboard her were by no means strong during that autumn and winter, demand was strong enough to keep her in civilian service. Economizing measures were taken, however. One of these was the shutting down of her No. 4 boiler room to conserve coal and crew costs; this reduced her maximum speed from over 25 knots (46 km/h) to 21 knots (39 km/h). Even so, she was the fastest first-class passenger liner left in commercial service.

With apparent dangers evaporating, the ship's disguised paint scheme was also dropped and she was returned to civilian colours. Her name was picked out in gilt, her funnels were repainted in their traditional Cunard livery, and her superstructure was painted white again. One alteration was the addition of a bronze/gold coloured band around the base of the superstructure just above the black paint.^[44]

1915[edit]

The official warning issued by the Imperial German Embassy about travelling on Lusitania.

By early 1915 a new threat began to materialise: submarines. At first they were used by the Germans only to attack naval vessels, and they achieved only occasional – but sometimes spectacular – successes. Then the U-boats began to attack merchant vessels at times, although almost always in accordance with the old Cruiser Rules. Desperate to gain an advantage on the Atlantic, the German government decided to step up their submarine campaign, as a result of the British declaring the North Sea a War zone in November 1914. On 4 February 1915, Germany declared the seas around the British Isles a war zone: from 18 February allied ships in the area would be sunk without warning. This was not wholly unrestricted submarine warfare since efforts would be taken to avoid sinking neutral ships.^[45]

Captain Daniel Dow,Lusitania's penultimate captain

Lusitania was scheduled to arrive in Liverpool on 6 March 1915. The Admiralty issued her specific instructions on how to avoid submarines. Admiral Henry Oliver ordered HMS Louis and Laverockto escort Lusitania, and took the further precaution of sending the Q ship Lyons to patrol Liverpool Bay.^[46] The destroyer commander attempted to discover the whereabouts of Lusitania by telephoning Cunard, who refused to give out any information and referred him to the Admiralty. At sea, the ships contacted Lusitania by radio, but did not have the codes used to communicate with merchant ships. Captain Dow of Lusitania refused to give his own position except in code, and since he was, in any case, some distance from the positions they gave, continued to Liverpool unescorted.^[47][48][49]

It seems that, in response to this new submarine threat, some alterations were made to Lusitania and her operation. She was ordered not to fly any flags in the War Zone, which was a contravention of the Cruiser Rules. Some messages were sent to the ship's commander to help him decide how to best protect his ship against the new threat, and it also seems that her funnels were most likely painted a dark grey to help make her less visible to enemy submarines. Clearly, there was no hope of disguising her actual identity, since her profile was so well known, and no attempt was made to paint out the ship's name at the prow.^[50]

Captain Dow, apparently suffering from stress from operating his ship in the War Zone, and after a significant “false flag” controversy, left the ship; Cunard later explained that he was "tired and really ill."^[51] He was replaced by Captain William Thomas Turner, who had previously commanded Lusitania, Mauretania, and Aquitania in the years before the war.

On 17 April 1915, Lusitania left Liverpool on her 201st transatlantic voyage, arriving in New York on 24 April. A group of German–Americans, hoping to avoid controversy if Lusitania were attacked by a U-boat, discussed their concerns with a representative of the German Embassy. The embassy decided to warn passengers before her next crossing not to sail aboard Lusitania. The Imperial German Embassy placed a warning advertisement in 50 American newspapers, including those in New York:

NOTICE!
TRAVELLERS intending to embark on the Atlantic voyage are reminded that a state of war exists between Germany and her allies and Great Britain and her allies; that the zone of war includes the waters adjacent to the British Isles; that, in accordance with formal notice given by the Imperial German Government, vessels flying the flag of Great Britain, or any of her allies, are liable to destruction in those waters and that travellers sailing in the war zone on the ships of Great Britain or her allies do so at their own risk.
IMPERIAL GERMAN EMBASSY
Washington, D.C., April 22, 1915.

This warning was printed adjacent to an advertisement for Lusitania's return voyage. The warning led to some agitation in the press and worried the ship's passengers and crew. Lusitania departed Pier 54 in New York on 1 May 1915.^[52][53]

Sinking[edit]

Main article: Sinking of the RMS Lusitania

On 7 May Lusitania was nearing the end of her crossing, as she was scheduled to dock at the Prince's Landing Stage in Liverpool later that afternoon. She was running parallel to the south coast of Ireland, and was roughly 11 miles off the Old Head of Kinsale when the liner crossed in front of U-20 at 2:10 p.m. It was sheer chance that the liner became such a convenient target, since U-20 could hardly have caught the fast vessel otherwise. Schwieger, the commanding officer of the U-boat, gave the order to fire one torpedo, which struckLusitania on the starboard bow, just beneath the wheelhouse. Moments later, a second explosion erupted from within Lusitania's hull where the torpedo had struck, and the ship began to founder in a much more rapid procession, with a prominent list to starboard.^[54][55]

Almost immediately, the crew scrambled to launch the lifeboats but the conditions of the sinking made their usage extremely difficult, and in some cases impossible due to the ship's severe list. In all, only six out of 48 lifeboats were launched successfully, with several more overturning, splintering to pieces and breaking apart. Eighteen minutes after the torpedo struck, the bow struck the seabed while the stern was still above the surface, and in a manner similar to the sinking of Titanic three years earlier, the stern rose into the air and slid beneath the waves.

Of the 1,959 passengers and crew aboard Lusitania at the time of the sinking, 1,195 lost their lives that afternoon in the waters of theCeltic Sea. Just as had been seen with Titanic, most of the casualties were from drowning or from hypothermia. In the hours after the sinking, acts of heroism amongst both the survivors of the sinking and the Irish rescuers who had heard word of Lusitania's distress signals brought the survivor count to 764. By the following morning, news of the disaster had spread around the world. While most of those lost in the sinking were either British or Canadians, the loss of 128 Americans in the disaster, including American writer and publisher Elbert Hubbard, outraged some in the United States.

Reaction[edit]

The sinking caused an international outcry, especially in Britain and across the British Empire, as well as in the United States, considering that 128 of 139 US citizens aboard the ship lost their lives.^[56]

On 8 May Dr Bernhard Dernburg, a German spokesman and a former German Colonial Secretary, published a statement in which he said that because Lusitania "carried contraband of war" and also because she "was classed as an auxiliary cruiser" Germany had had a right to destroy her regardless of any passengers aboard. Dernburg further said that the warnings given by the German Embassy before her sailing plus 18 February note declaring the existence of "war zones" relieved Germany of any responsibility for the deaths of the American citizens aboard. He referred to the ammunition and military goods declared on Lusitania's manifest and said that "vessels of that kind" could be seized and destroyed under the Hague rules.^[57][58] Lusitania was indeed officially listed as an auxiliary war ship,^[40]and her cargo had included an estimated 4,200,000 rounds of rifle cartridges, 1,250 empty shell cases, and 18 cases of non-explosive fuses, which was openly listed as such in her cargo manifest.^[59][60] The day after the sinking, the New York Times published full details of the ship's military cargo.^[61] Assistant Manager of the Cunard Line, Herman Winter, denied the charge that she carried munitions, but admitted that she was carrying small-arms ammunition, and that she had been carrying such ammunition for years.^[62] The fact thatLusitania had been carrying shells and cartridges was not made known to the British public at the time.^[63] In the 27-page additional manifest, delivered to US customs 4–5 days after the Lusitania sailed from New York, and the Bethlehem Steels papers is stated that the "empty shells" were in fact 1248 boxes of filled 3" shell, 4 shells to the box, totalling 103.000 pounds or 50 tonnes.

The British felt that the Americans had to declare war on Germany. However, US President Woodrow Wilson refused to over-react.^[56]During the weeks after the sinking, the issue was hotly debated within the US government, and correspondence was exchanged between the US and German governments. German Foreign Minister Von Jagow continued to argue that Lusitania was a legitimate military target, because she was listed as an armed merchant cruiser, she was using neutral flags and she had been ordered to ram submarines – in blatant contravention of the Cruiser Rules.^[64][65][66] He further argued that Lusitania had on previous voyages carried munitions and Allied troops.^[65] Wilson continued to insist that the German government must apologise for the sinking, compensate US victims, and promise to avoid any similar occurrence in the future.^[67] The British were upset at Wilson's actions – not realising that it reflected general US opinion at the time. Secretary of State William Jennings Bryan advised President Wilson that "ships carrying contraband should be prohibited from carrying passengers … [I]t would be like putting women and children in front of an army."^[68] Bryan later resigned because he felt the Wilson administration was being biased in ignoring British contraventions of international law, and that Wilson was leading the USA into the war.^[69]

A German decision on 9 September 1915 stated that attacks were only allowed on ships that were definitely British, while neutral ships were to be treated under the Prize Law rules, and no attacks on passenger liners were to be permitted at all.^[69][70]

It was in the interests of the British to keep US passions inflamed, and a fabricated story was circulated that in some regions of Germany, schoolchildren were given a holiday to celebrate the sinking of Lusitania. This story was so effective that James W. Gerard, the US ambassador to Germany, recounted it in his memoir of his time in Germany, Face to Face with Kaiserism (1918), though without substantiating its validity.^[71]

Almost two years later, in January 1917 the German Government announced it would again conduct full unrestricted submarine warfare. This together with the Zimmermann Telegram pushed US public opinion over the tipping point, and on 6 April 1917 the United States Congress followed President Wilson's request to declare war on Germany

970 THE LOOK OF LOVE Part 10 A High-spirited, Blond, Little Greenhorn Named Jack ...

As I've not yet called Aunt Risa to ask about that missing detail, concerning my grandpa's adopted profession (a detail adding interest without proving vital to the authenticity of relating a true story), let's move forward, so Bailey and her child can emigrate to the Midwest, where Jack will grow up, attend a dance and sweep Jennie into a grand romance, extending over my parents' lifetime ...

Hey!  No eye rolling, please ... You must know, by now, how deeply affected I am by honest-to-goodness romance, most especially when, upon reflection, the main characters in a story of love at first sight depicts a pair of lovers, who prove to be none other than my mother and father.  I mean, think about it:  How many kids envision their folks as the courageous hero and lovely heroine, who find themselves swept into a mesmerizing trance upon laying eyes on each other across a crowded room?  And rare is the youngster who'd believe that such a magical experience can connect two hearts at every stage of life ...

By this point in my life, experience suggests that once you're over the hill, there's another hill to climb, and here's why that's a good thing:  As soon as you stop climbing hills, life gets pretty flat, and flattening out for any length of time proves impossible for a spirit that flies high as naturally as mine :)

So anyway, where was I?  Oh yes, we've been moving in a step by step fashion toward that point in my story where Grandma Bailey and young Jack believe they'll soon set sail for the new world, suggestive of their bidding farewell to everything familiar, most especially loved ones, in Poland, where Yacob's younger brother, Nuete, had adopted the role of Jack's father in the absence of his own … And as love for each other had time to deepen over the length of seven years, thus will a bittersweet flavor overshadow my father's eventual departure from all he knew …

969 THE LOOK OF LOVE Part 9 Money Makes The World Go Round ...

By the time Yacob had saved passage for Bailey and little Jack to sail across the ocean to join him, several years had passed, because the new world had not proved to be the land of free milk and honey as my grandpa, the idealistic immigrant, had been led to believe.  Thank goodness, Yacob's disillusioned spirit was uplifted, fora time, upon being taken under the wing of an immigrant family, with whom my father's family would become life-long friends.  As it happened, these good people had offered my grandpa, a naive, young man, a bed, though not a room of his own, because their small apartment, which had shared one bathroom with families who'd inhabited other apartments, was filled to overflowing with friends in need of kind hearted shelter.

You can believe me when I say that the scholar had no time for books, because he'd found himself working endless hours in hopes of sending for Bailey.  By this time, he knew that a son had been born, and though anxious to bring wife and child to his side, earning a fair wage to pay for his keep while putting money aside for his family's passage did not come easy to a man whose education had focused upon leading a religious flock.  I mean, think about it:  Upon disembarking in the new world, Yacob, the scholar, couldn't speak, read, write or understand a lick of English to save his life.

If you ask what my grandpa did to support himself while saving for his wife and child's ocean voyage, I have no clue ... However, Aunt Risa, who is ninety-one, may offer us that answer ...