Lodz, 8 December 1925 To my dearest and most devoted nephew and his worthy wife, E. M. Zissman, You will surely be surprised that I write to you so often, one letter after another. Without having received an answer to my first letter from Opoczno (or) to my second letter from Lodz, I now write you a third letter. I will explain what causes me to write now without having received an answer to those two letters. Devoted and dear Sol, surely you read in the newspapers how things look in Poland in general and with your uncle in particular... Your most recent letter made quite an impression on me, that you, my devoted one, concern yourself so much with my circumstances. Being convinced that you, my dear one, are completely dedicated to improving my critical situation, I have written to you and write you again that, two months ago, a brother of my wife left for Canada, to the city of Toronto. At our farewell, he took your address from me, and assured me that he would contact you about me, either by letter or by telephone. Today, I received a letter from him, which I am enclosing, in which he writes that he came to an agreement with his older brother about me. So, they write that in no event will you be able to bring me to Chicago in a legal manner. But they will do everything possible to bring me to Canada as an agricultural worker or as a house servant because the law allows only these two categories to be requested. So, my dear and devoted Sol, you know very well that your uncle considers you to be someone who is smart and logical. You know very well how I have been struggling for seventeen years, not able to achieve my goals. Also, consider well, Sol, how many times and the extent of the amounts that you have already advanced to your uncle and, in the final analysis, if I look around I see that I am standing in (the middle of a body of) water and await to see "from whence my help will come." I don't know whether another person in my shoes would be prepared to suffer so much as I, and how long can I continue? How much strength does a person have to carry such a burden? I am so confused that I don't believe that my situation will ever improve... Therefore, I would gladly save myself with any alternative, just like that sailor whose ship sunk and who sat on a plank. Did he think at that time that he could withstand the huge ocean waves? Of course not. But, nevertheless, he wanted to save himself...just as I do. Do you think, Sol, that I don't know what sort of difficulties are involved in my leaving? I know only too well. I don't pretend that it will be so wonderful there. I know that I'll do demeaning work there, be inconsolably lonesome and alienated, without a home, a child, a wife, for G-d knows how long. And now, I am also obliged to ask you to secure the tickets on the ship for me, and also something in addition to the tickets, because they, my wife's brothers, they at most will send the papers, as I see it, because they want to send for their parents, their family, brother, and so on. But, nevertheless, my devoted one, I figure that the only way that remains for me is to wander out of Poland because everyone I speak to and everyone whose advice I seek tells me that I shouldn't be concerned with what will happen later but that, if I have the opportunity, I should not let the favorable moment pass! I have also informed myself well from Warsaw about an underhanded way (of getting out), but unfortunately it involves so much money that it's a sum that I have never seen in my life. Eight hundred "noodles." If one has the capacity to put up such a sum, one can do very nicely here. To be brief, dear Sol, if G-d has punished you with a luckless uncle, it's not my fault. You know very well that I am a logical person, and your cent is important to me since I know that you work very hard for it, and I also understand too well that a merchant cannot take such colossal sums out of a business. On the other hand, however, I see that I am sinking and that I don't have a solution. I also know that you want to help me with all your might. So, my advice would be that you contact my two brothers-in-law, i.e., Malke's two brothers, Shia and Berish Rotberg (now Smith), about me, and I am satisfied with however you decide my fate, and I put myself entirely in your hands. Sol, I am sure that you seek what is good for me. I am convinced of your devotion to me, not from today and not from yesterday. Really, one would have to travel half-way around the world to find another such devoted and beloved nephew as you are to me. Therefore, dear Sol, pay attention to my words; hurry with your help; come to an understanding as quickly as possible with my brothers-in-law; and let me know how you can save me. I am waiting impatiently for your father-in-law. Perhaps I will be able to go with him as a house servant. Perhaps he will ease my pain. Believe me, Sol, I'm not writing you fiction about how much and what pressures me since I don't want to cause you any pain, because you're not lacking any "joy" from your sister's illness, etc. What, after all, can I do since I don't have another friend like you who empathizes with me? Perhaps, there will come a time when we will relate this story in happiness. I will say what my Uncle Emanuel Lewin said to me this Sabbath. It is nothing other than an act of G-d that you are a messenger from heaven to provide me with food and rescue in my time of need...just like the sainted Joseph provided food finally for his father, his brothers, etc. I looked straight at my uncle's face and wasn't able to make a response because it is, after all, a question to which I will remain obliged to come up with an answer until...until, with G-d's help, we will see each other again face to face. Dear Sol, to give you a glimpse of my business dealings, pardon the expression, I can only write that, recently, I have completely gone to pot since a new disaster emerged. A "business" with money; a story with dollars. As soon as Grabski left his position, the dollar increased from 5.18 all the way to 12 gulden. Last week, they even paid 14 gulden, but today it stands at 12.25. Naturally, everything became more expensive. The cost of living has gone up 100%. Goods have gone up 75%, and the factories are standing idle. Nothing can be sold because everyone fixes prices based on the dollar. Rumor has it that the zloty will fall further in value and that the dollar will rise just as it did three years ago. My collection business is buried at the end of the world because it's impossible to get credit, nothing can be sold. For example, if today I sell a 1/2 piece of linen for $4 (48 gulden) to be paid for over ten weeks at five gulden a week, I can earn five or six gulden. But by the time the ten weeks pass, the $4 cost 96 gulden, and no one wants to pay me in dollars but in gulden. Furthermore, I have no money of my own, so I deal on the basis of interest and, currently, it's not possible to find (loans) because everyone accumulates his capital in dollars, not in zlotys. As long as things were moving along normally, no one was able to determine whether I was operating at a profit or a loss because, with credit from the merchants and with the money that I borrowed on interest, I was able to support my household, although my earnings were not overflowing, but in any event I was more satisfied than to be in the partnership. But today it's gone almost all the way downhill. My clientele consists of five or six customers who owe me about 200 gulden, less than $20, and I owe four times as much because if one doesn't earn any money, it gets eaten up bit by bit. In short, my devoted and dear one, it's healthier not to speak so much about it. I can only write, in a word, "It is not good." And nothing will help. The best help would be for me to be able to go to Canada. I would know that I would have to suffer for a year or two or three, but there would be an end to my misfortune! My wife is in full agreement with my leaving because she doesn't anticipate that I'll be able to "rise from the dead" here in Poland. Perhaps a change of place will result in a change in fortune. Would that, Master the Universe, Poverty does not get a visa and find me there. Under no circumstances, can I cope with him here... You ask about your grandmother's illness. She was very sick, but now, thank G-d, she is feeling better. Last week, I received a post card which I am enclosing. Write me about how Ruchel is feeling after the operation, whether she has recovered already and how she feels and whether your father is satisfied with your action toward him... .............................. The end of this letter is missing. All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.