Lodz, 1 August 1932

To my dear and devoted nephew, Sol, and niece,

After two months of making you wait for an answer to your two
letters to me, I finally take the time to write a letter to you
now.  Really, Sol, what do you think there about your uncle's
silence?  Surely procrastination or worries; perhaps someone is
sick again or sometimes money is lacking for a postage stamp. 
Yes, all of these things can be blamed on a person to whom one
is bound by love and who suddenly stops loving the other person
for a period of time!  

And perhaps, Sol, you are so overworked with your business
affairs that your uncle and his problems are not "lying on your
left ear lock..."  You surely think that if your uncle has
nothing to write, then his strength is spent.  My "successes"
are already well known to you.  You are more than familiar with
my household, my children.  Haven't you heard enough of your
uncle's moaning and groaning?  And again the same thing, and
once more the same thing!!!  In a word, dear and devoted Sol,
you can place the blame for your uncle's silence however you see
fit there.  However, my task, as a devoted uncle, is to recount
for you the experiences that I have lived through over the last
three months.

As you know from a letter of mine to you during Passover, I
became quite ill before Passover with serious rheumatism in a
hand and a leg so that I was in bed for four weeks.  After that,
I took twenty electric baths and massages and, thank G-d,
improved somewhat.  Just as soon as I felt better, I went back
to work, and although I was not able to stand while I worked,
nevertheless I paid no attention and stood with great pain and
worked because I had a premonition that if I were to let it
slide and not go to work, there were thousands of others,
stronger and healthier (than I), who could take my place. 
Therefore, ignoring the fact that I still had a great deal of
pain in my hand and leg, I nevertheless wanted to reaccustom
myself to the work.  More than once I was covered with sweat
from head to foot because I was weak, but in spite of that I
fought a battle with myself in order that I might not be thrown
out of the factory and be forced to look for work in the current
situation...because I already knew what that would be like...

To be brief, I worked in that manner from the end of Passover
until two weeks before Shavuos.  The foreman came over to me,
here he's called the master, and said, "Mr. Lewkowicz, you can't
work here any more.  I see that you're sick, and you are
inattentive to the work, etc."  There were ten of us let go, six
gentiles and four Jews.  My demands and pleas didn't help;
that's the way it had to be.  "Besides that," they told me, "go
and be well (because) there is nothing to work on.  If we need
you, we'll send for you.  Meanwhile, do what you can to get
better so that the work will not be of low quality because of
you..."  I was already familiar with hunger and poverty...  I
expended all of my energy and my ability to speak in an effort
to talk him into letting me continue to work, but without any
success.  I had to leave the factory two weeks after Shavuos.  

Coming home, I began to recognize how difficult the employment
situation is.  Whenever it pleases them, they select a worker
and throw him out, like a shovelful of garbage, without any
means of supporting himself.  My situation was perilous.  I
recognized that the world was ending for me, bit by bit. 
Nevertheless, one has to do something.  To just sit around with
folded hands is certainly no plan...  The question is:  What
does one begin to do when I didn't have five cents to my name? 
To the contrary, I was in debt for six months rent, etc.  

First of all, I took my two children, Rifkele and Joseph, and
sent them away to my sister, i.e., to Aunt Estherl, so they
would at least not have to go hungry with us.  And my wife and
I, will have to, as it were, wage the battle against hunger and
suffering until, until...  I myself began to look, to search,
for (work) in the great city of Lodz with its many factories. 
However, it was all for naught because there are no people like
me looking for work these days.  Rather, (they are)
21-year-olds, well built, tall of stature and powerful, from one
of whom, three such as I can be made.  But there are no openings
anywhere, and tens of thousands of workers are wandering around
Lodz without work.  So, will I, such a small, weak, little
person, who altogether weighs 49 kilograms (108 pounds), with a
sick hand and a sick leg, find work? 

To be brief, I realized that my running around to find work
would be of no use because one gets the same reply everywhere: 
"We don't need anyone."  It was also of no use to run to the
organizations where people sit for years playing cards and chess
and dominoes in order to while away their free time.  All of
these people were alien to me; their manner of speaking, the way
they conduct themselves, is a mystery to me.  Right now, I have
only one item on my agenda...bread.  How does one get bread to
ease my hunger and that of my wife?

Ah, dear and devoted Sol, while I feel that you are my devoted
brother and friend and I have more than once appealed to you in
a time of need and you did not stand at a distance (and do
nothing) for your uncle, but, but, this time I didn't want to
write to you, Sol.  I didn't want to cause you any pain, knowing
that things are not so rosy for you there...  I suffered and
fought a battle with myself.  I used some influence and
(attempted) a number of different things.  I also had a man, a
friend, who put in a good word for me.  In short, after two
months of wandering around in a battle, I returned to work at
the factory, although I am now working under poorer conditions
than before because, first of all, I earn 15% less and, second,
I do a different kind of work and that work affects my sick hand
and leg.  Before, I worked in a dry area and now in the tanning
area itself.

In short, dear Sol, whether I want to or not, I have to take it
all in stride because I have no other alternative.  I want you
to know that if I had another alternative, I would certainly
abandon the job because, if it were not enough that one can't
make a living from this work, one must put his life at risk
every day because not a day goes by that a worker is not burned.
 But what can one do?  For the time being, I am working, and I
hope that the time will come that I will be rid of this work.  I
earn about $3 a week.  The children are in Opoczno.  If I
weren't in debt, I might be able to get by.  Worst of all is the
money for the rent which I am not able to pay on a regular
basis.  However, may G-d help so that my hand will stop hurting
and so that we will be well. 

This is the way, dear and devoted Sol, that we struggle through
our few years.  Now you will no longer wonder why your uncle
didn't answer your letters.  You know very well that it is not
my nature to fail to answer you.  Many times I didn't eat
breakfast and, for the money, bought a postage stamp and
answered your letter.  However, this time, dear Sol, I was so
upset that I really didn't know what was happening to me.  I am
sure that another person in my situation would have gone mad
because of the troubles.

Now, dear Sol, how are you feeling?  How are things going for
you, your dear wife and dear son?  Are you all well?  How is
your father, your sisters?  I heard that you broke up the
partnership.  And didn't I anticipate how it would end up? 
However, don't aggravate yourself, Sol, over the fact that you
were in a partnership with your father for several months.  If
it cost you something, it's also worth something to you for the
future to demonstrate that you did everything in your power in
order to rescue your father from going under.

(The end of this letter is missing.)


All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.