Lodz, 24 April 1932 My very beloved brother, as well as precious nephew, and niece, S. Zissman, Three weeks ago, I wrote you a post card, my devoted one, while I was sick in bed. Now, my devoted one, I will write to you precisely everything that happened to me during the last four weeks, although it's foolish to read such letters from an uncle about such silly things as sicknesses, a cold, etc. But what can I do if you, Sol, have such a silly uncle in Poland who finds it necessary to tell you about all the details, all the happenings, all the experiences (of his life)...? Apparently, your uncle has the highest degree of confidence in you since he confides in (you), his only devoted brother, all of his secrets and experiences. And don't think, Sol, that your uncle is so stupid that he doesn't understand, or doesn't want to understand, how difficult it is for us common people of the world... Around the time of Purim, I received a letter from you in response to a letter of mine. At the end of your letter, are the clear and plain words, "I am sending you $5, and use them in good health." I read your letter several times and wanted, somehow, to discover how things were going for my only devoted brother there in the golden land of America. However, the paper was mute and wasn't willing to reveal what had not been written... However, Sol, your uncle knows you very well, and I read your letters very carefully. Every word in a letter of yours is gulped down with a powerful thirst! Although I can't see with my eyes how things have been going there recently for my devoted brother...nevertheless, I sensed a sort of pessimism in your writing. Your jokes, your humor, your encouragement of me, your inspiring me not to be despairing, were missing from your writing!!! When I received the most recent $5, I said to my wife, "You should know that if things are not bad for Sol, they're far from being good..." My wife said to me, "How do you know what's going on there in Chicago? I answered, "Would that I turn out to be a liar. The best evidence I have is the worldwide crisis in general and the collapse of small businesses in particular." My wife then said, "Don't worry, Sol is a person who can "turn" along with the wheel of the world." However, I believe that's it's very difficult to turn along with the world as it dances along. I have a presentiment that you, Sol, don't want to make your uncle very unhappy and don't want to write openly about everything that is pressuring you there. You are too decent and insightful. "Why write? In any event, my uncle can't help me in any way, except to heave a sigh. Besides that, is my uncle such a fool that he won't understand? By simply sending him $5 and not writing anything...he'll understand everything..." Don't think, devoted Sol, that I am making a complaint that you sent me too little for Passover. No, chas v'cholilah. Just the reverse. Lying in bed, I wept when I received the $5. My mind was not able to perceive (the problem), and I keep wondering, "G-d knows what's going on there with Sol." I can't figure out what has taken place there with you. I wander around as if in a daze and keep wondering about my devoted brother who always showed me such magnanimity, such generosity. And, suddenly, I feel that you are concealing something from me that is pressuring you in some way. However, however, you fear lest you will not appear justified by G-d and by your uncle. So, you take $5 and send it to your uncle. Now, Sol, the question remains whether I have the right to take $5 from a brother who always made a sacrifice for me and who has now himself become a sacrificial lamb to the world-wide crisis. Another question is whether you might not have someone closer to you than an uncle to whom to give help there... In a word, Sol, no matter how I express myself on paper, you still won't comprehend the sort of impact your last letter and the enclosed $5 made on me. However, I beg you, Sol, to read my letter with sensibility, and not to adjudge me, chas v'cholilah, a beggar who has learned the trade of begging...too well. You deserved now to have me write you a quite simple answer with warm thanks for your generosity, for your not forgetting about us. Instead, I compose such a "production" on the basis of which I want you to understand me. Don't think and say there, Sol, "When I sent checks for $10, $15, $25, I was a good nephew. Now, when I send $5, my uncle sends me such a 'production,' and all about the $5..." So, my devoted one, I beg you to read my letter with sensitivity and you will discern that your uncle is quite disturbed and has a presentiment that things are not going too well for you there, Sol!!! Therefore, I beg you, my devoted Shloyme, not to conceal anything and not to hide anything from your uncle because I, as your sole devoted uncle, am entitled, and am anxious, to know about everything. Write to me about everything from A to Z, about your health and the health of your wife and dear child, also about the health of your, and your wife's, parents, family, sisters, brothers-in-law, uncles, et al. Then, as to business matters, I ask you to write me all about how the partnership with your father is doing. In a word, (write) about everyone and everything. Now I want to recount my experiences during the last four weeks. Perhaps you remember, Sol, that six months ago I wrote you that I was ill. The illness consists of a pain in my arm, a hand and a leg. Normally, if one works in a factory, one has the right to treatment. One time I went to a doctor, and he prescribed a salve and medicinal powders, etc. The same thing the second time. To be brief, I saw that I was feeling worse from day to day, and my work at the factory was deteriorating to a point where the foreman noticed and warned me that if my work continued at the same level, I would lose my job. You can imagine, Sol. Aunt Malke was in bed for practically the entire winter; she suffers from a heart ailment. Rifkele is also a sickly child. And now, if I too were to become a patient, that would be the last straw... Time passed. I worked with my remaining strength. More than once I became faint from the pain, until, until, the catastrophe took place. The week of Purim, it floored me for good. I was lying in bed like a "Count," and wasn't able to move an arm or leg. My arm was painful; my back hurt. Then began a tale of doctors and medicines and masseurs and ointments, etc. The pain was getting worse. I didn't eat because of the pain. I was existing on injections. In short, my devoted Sol, it isn't possible to relate everything that I went through during the last four weeks. And if that were not enough, my wife got a cold in her throat; she had a boil in the throat. She had a high fever. I was lying in one bed and my wife in a second bed. We felt helpless, forsaken by friends, by relatives. We drenched the pillows with tears. The poverty in our home was apparent wherever one turned. The doctor came and wanted nothing other than to take Aunt Malke to the hospital. They also wanted to take me to the hospital. But we didn't consent. They prescribed applications on the neck for Aunt Malke, and she felt better. She is even getting around a little bit already. I am also feeling a little better although I am far from being completely well. Two days before Passover, I got out of bed. I am not working yet because I am not yet able to work. The doctor advises that I go to a spa somewhere. If I don't, the illness will return next winter with more intense pain... In this manner, devoted Sol, I lived through (the period) from Purim to Passover, with pain, with indescribable pain. Now, thank G-d, I'm a little better. However, I'm not able, and I don't know yet whether I will be able, to resume work. If not, I will, chas v'cholilah, have to commit suicide. Right now, it is Passover here. Today, Sunday, the second of the intermediate days of Passover, I am writing you this letter, and as you read through the letter, you will not have any great pleasure. Nevertheless, I hope to write you in my next letter that I am fully recovered, that I am working, that I am well, that my family is well, etc. So, heartfelt regards and kisses for my dear nephew and niece and their dear son from me, my wife and children. Uncle Lazer and Aunt Estherl send you heartfelt regards. They were in Lodz recently. With respect, Wolf Lewkowicz Please answer promptly. All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.