JEAN FREEDMAN:  This is an interview with Hanna Weinberg.  It's June 10th, 2001.  We're in Baltimore, Maryland.  I'm Jean Freedman, recording this for the Jewish Women's Archive, Weaving Women's Words project.  OK.  I always start out my interviews the same way, and that's by asking the interviewee to tell me the full name and when and where they were born?

HANNA WEINBERG:  Do I have to practice?

JF:  No, just speak away.

HW:  Just speak away?  My full name is Hanna.  In Hebrew, it's Chana Shaina Weinberg.  I was born in Germany in 1927.

JF:  What was the date?

HW:  The date was March 30th.

JF:  March 30th, 1927.  OK.  Can you tell me something about your family and where you grew up?

HW:  We lived in what was Lithuania at that time.  My mother had toxemia.  And they took her by stretcher to Germany.  That's why I was born in Germany.

JF:  I see.

HW:  But we lived in Lithuania.

JF:  So, you were born in Germany, but didn't live in Germany, is that it?

HW:  That's right. 

JF:  Where in Lithuania did you live?

HW:  A little town called Slobotka which is probably in -- near a larger city called Kovno, which could be where "Fiddler on the Roof" took place.  Not far from there. 

JF:  OK.  All right.  So, tell me more about your family.  So, your mother was taken by stretcher to Germany?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  For your birth?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Then returned to Lithuania?

HW:  Right. 

JF:  OK.  So, what was your family and your home life like in Lithuania?

HW:  Well, my father was a rabbi.  Established, in America, the Ner Israel Rabbinical College.  My mother's family also was -- her father was a rabbi.  We come from a long line of Talmudic scholars.

JF:  Very good.

HW:  My father came here two years before we did, and that's how we landed up in America.

JF:  So, how long did you live in Lithuania?  How old were you when you came here?

HW:  I was four.

JF:  Do you remember anything about it?

HW:  I have a very distinct memory.  My mother took me to the river, and it was a large river there that was overflowing.  The soldiers were putting sandbags on the bridge.  I remember there was a house in the water.  It was flooded.  The water was up to the roof, and there was a dog on the roof.  I think to a four-year-old, that's a memory that stays.  Wondering whether the waters ever got to the dog.  (laughter)

JF:  Yes.  Yes.  So, what were the circumstances of your father coming here?  You say that he came before you and your mother.

HW:  He came before.  He was brought here from Europe by a rabbinical seminary in Hartford.  Is it Hartford?  I think -- New Haven.  It was New Haven.

JF:  Connecticut?

HW:  New Haven, yes.  That's where he was, and we came over.

JF:  And you followed, you said, two years later?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  You say you were four at the time?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  So that would make it 1931?  Is that correct?

HW:  Let me see -- 1931 -- we didn't get here until 1934.

JF:  1934?

HW:  Yes.  So, he must have been -- he must have gone later.  I know it was two years difference.

JF:  OK.  OK.  Do you have any other memories of Europe - -outside of the river and the dog?

HW:  Only of a house that my mother called me -- that we're going to America.  And running down these steps which -- the steps were outside of the house.  Like the second-floor steps were outside.  That's all I have -- outside of pictures.

JF:  Right.  Do you have memories about coming to America?

HW:  Yes.  Memories of the boat.  It was a very, very large boat called the Bremen, which was, I think, one of the last boats that came over because it was 1939 that the war started.  Because I was -- and that's all I remember of coming to America.

JF:  OK.  And you came to New Haven?  Is that correct? 

HW:  I came to New Haven.

JF:  Can you tell me what happened there?  What was life like there?

HW:  Well, I can tell you my first observation, which was -- to me, later, very interesting.  My father came to pick us up.  He came with four students.  And, to a 4-year-old little girl, they seemed like giants.  They were like 6-footers.  They must have weighed about 200, 300 pounds each.  I can't tell you exactly what I said, but my father always remembered it as -- I said to him that, "It looks like they eat more than they study."

JF:  (laughter) OK.  Your father was a Talmudic scholar?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Was he teaching at a Talmudic academy?

HW:  Yes, he was. 

JF:  Can you tell me about his work?

HW:  His work?

JF:  Mmm-hmm.

HW:  What can I tell you about his work?  He wrote a book that is used in all rabbinic seminaries.  He was well-known.  He was very young.  I think he was 19 when he wrote this -- the volume that is used. 

JF:  What is it called?

HW:   A Vo Des Levi.   The Work of a Levi.    He had many offers to open up seminaries in Switzerland and Boston.  In Baltimore -- and it was mother who chose Baltimore.  She felt that -- the city itself was one that would be the best place for it.

JF:  What were the reasons for her choice?

HW:  She said, first of all, it is a wasteland.  A desert as far as Jewish education here.  She felt that that is a good place to start.  In fact, she named the college here -- Ner Israel -- which means "The Light of Israel," she said.  And that's what the name should be -- that it should be a light in the desert. 

JF:  OK.  When did you come to Baltimore?

HW:  Baltimore?  We came in, I think, it was '37.

JF:  '37?  So, you spent only a few years in New Haven?

HW:  Yes.  Yes, well, we did not live in New Haven, the college moved to Cleveland, and we followed it.

JF:  How long were you there?

HW:  Two years, I think. 

JF:  And --

HW:  At that time, I didn't speak a word of English.  I only spoke Jewish.  Would refuse to open my mouth until I could speak English.

JF:  Had you started school yet?

HW:  Not yet, no.  I think I did start kindergarten there.

JF:  In Cleveland?

HW:  In Cleveland. 

JF:  Did you speak English by that time?

HW:  Yes.  I didn't speak a word of Jewish.  Refused until I had it down pat.

JF:  (laughter) Was it a Jewish kindergarten?

HW:  No. 

JF:  Or a public kindergarten?

HW:  A public.

JF:  Do you have any memories of that? 

HW:  Not so much of the kindergarten as much as the -- right across the street from my grandmother's house -- we lived with my grandmother.  There was an orphanage there.  It just drew me there to see the children -- their faces against the fence.  They were so melancholy--

[phone rings in background]

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  We were talking about your time in Cleveland.

HW:  Yes.  You were asking me what I remember in Cleveland?

JF:  I was asking you about what you remember in Cleveland?

HW:  What I remember in Cleveland is that believe it or not -- I never liked to eat.  So, the students -- my father's students, rigged up through the radio, in the basement, that they were going to call -- the police are going to come to my house.  Said the address and everything.  I said, "Funny, it doesn't sound like police.  It sounds like this boy" -- there was this tune that I recognized before.  I saw them coming up from the basement.  And realized that it was - -what they had done.  So, I was very annoyed.  When they were under the window, I pushed a flowerpot on his head.

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  My aunt went out, and she was -- about 21 at that time -- ran out because she was worried about, you know -- I caused him a concussion.  Then, they got married a year later.

JF:  (laughter) So, you were the cause of this romance?  (laughter)

HW:  Yes, I think so.  (laughter)

JF:  (laughter) Did you start liking to eat after that?

HW:  No. 

JF:  (laughter) Did you live at the school?

HW:  No, no.  The school was separate.  I lived with my grandparents.

JF:  Did your father also have a congregation?

HW:  No.

JF:  Or was he a full-time teacher?

HW:  A full-time teacher.

JF:  OK.  How long were you in Cleveland?

HW:  Two years.

JF:  Two years?  Then you came to Baltimore?

HW:  Baltimore. 

JF:  OK.  Can you tell me what you remember of that transition?

HW:  The transition was -- what I remember most of all was -- my parents always worked as a team.  My mother started a Ladies' Auxiliary here.  One of the things that I remember, which I guess, because it made such an impression -- when you are so young, these things make an impression.  That there were people who were not very happy that my father came.  There was, at that time, a small what you'd call a cheder.  A school or a one-room classroom.  They were afraid that a yeshiva -- Y-E-S-H-I-V-A -- come in that they won't have any money for their little school.  But it turned out to be the contrary.  Because people gave more readily because there was a -- what you all a yeshiva gadola-- you know, a seminary type.  I have two memories.  Of one memory was of a man coming to my father.  He offered him $5,000 -- which, at that time, was a lot of money.  He said he would give it to him if he would close the yeshiva and move to someplace else.

JF:  Why was that?

HW:  He didn't want -- was afraid that the -- the little classroom here would, you know.  Another memory I have is that they invited my mother to speak.

JF:  Who is "they"?

HW:  I guess it was the association there.

JF:  At the cheder?

HW:  At the cheder.  Invited her to speak.  I remember the incident very clearly.  Somebody was leaning against the doorbell.  And was just continuously ringing.  When I went to open the door, it was my mother. 

 She was standing there.  She had tomatoes and eggs on her hat - -dripping down -- imagine -- a child -- what an impression that made. 

JF:  OH.

HW:  When she started to speak, they said, "We don't want you here.  Close the yeshiva.  Leave Baltimore." They were throwing things at her.  It just made such a terrible impression on me.

JF:  That's terrible. 

HW:  She was hysterical.

JF:  I shouldn't wonder.  They were so frightened of the competition?  

Oh, my word.

HW:  It wasn't even a competition.  It was totally on a different level. 

JF:  Right.  But they viewed it as competition?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Were others more welcoming?

HW:  Yes.  There were a group that were more welcoming and tried to help as much as they could.  So, they were the first impression of - -before we moved into an apartment.  We lived with someone -- I think it must have been like something like two weeks.  Very, very fine.  Nice people.  But they kept live fish in the bathtub.  That was where they kept it.  (laughter) I don't remember if it wasn't a refrigerator or what.  I just remember these -- these humongous fish, it would seem to me -- you know, as a child.  (laughter) In the bathtub.  I never wanted to go to the toilet there.  (laughter) Without my mother -- because of that.

JF:  It must have made it hard --

HW:  (laughter) These memories.

JF:  It must have made it hard to take a bath.

HW:  No, I didn't take a bath there.

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  (laughter)

JF:  Where did you live when you first moved to Baltimore?

HW:  In an apartment.

JF:  Where was that?

HW:  In a section called Forest Park.

JF:  Mmm-hmm.  Can you tell me about that?  What was the neighborhood like then?

HW:  Beautiful.  Mostly Jewish.  Very broad streets.  Streetcars on -- you know, running on tracks.  A library where I think that I spent most of my life in.  We lived next door to a man who was a veterinarian.  We went -- we used to get meat delivered to the house.  Once, my mother left and told my father to bring in the meat that was going to be delivered.  He brought it in and left it on the table.  When we got home, we saw it moving.  (laughter)  Actually moving.  It belonged to the veterinarian -- they delivered little puppies -- the puppies on the wrong -- 

HW:  Thank goodness he didn't put it in the refrigerator.  (laughter)

JF:  (laughter)  You say the area was mostly Jewish.  Were there a lot of Jewish shops and things like that around?

HW:  There were shops -- I would say about ten blocks up – it was mostly residential.

JF:  Was it mainly apartments?  Or row houses?

HW:  Houses.  Beautiful.  There were a lot of row houses.  But, on the main street was like a - it was like a -- it was a boulevard.  It was called a boulevard.  Very sprawling, big homes. 

JF:  Do you remember your neighbors at all?

HW:  Only the girls that I went to school with.

JF:  OK.  Can you -

HW:  We walked to school in those days.  (laughter)

JF:  Can you tell me -- you were in elementary school.  What elementary school did you go to?

HW:  64.

JF:  OK.  Can you tell me about that?

HW:  Well, I can tell you that we had a teacher who -- for sure -- was wearing a wig.  I believe that that's one reason why I was never good in math -- because she used to scratch her head with a pencil.  The pencil would move her wig back and forth, and all of us were so enthralled with watching that wig that we never learned math like we should have.  (laughter)

JF:  (laughter)  Did you make friends with the neighborhood girls?

HW:  There weren't too many on the block.  But there were, had a nice little group of a few friends. 

JF:  What did you do for fun?

HW:  Well, for fun?  What did I do for fun?  I read.  I'm really a reader.  Unfortunately, I was an only child.  My mother -- the toxemia made her sterile.  Two things -- one, my mother was afraid for me to learn for me how to bike ride because I might break my teeth.  I might break a -- you know -- my hand – whatever.  I wasn't allowed to go rollerblading -- oh, roller-skating.  Not blading, then.  So, I always went to my friend's house and would roller-skate there.  Unfortunately, we'd never learned how to ride a bike because she was fearful.  The good part about it was that we had a lot of company, from all over the world.  If they stayed over, they'd have to stay over in my bedroom.  So, I would sleep in the living room.  I think that was good because I wasn't spoiled as a child.  It was like you learn to give -- which, many times, when you're just one child, you don't learn.  But there, I mean, that's the way it was.  You just gave up your room.  OK?  So, it was -- but it was very informative life -- because of the different people that came from all walks of life.

JF:  Can you tell me about some of them?

HW:  Well, there was one man who was called Reb Aaron Kotler.  K-O-T-L-E-R.   He came from Europe with just the clothes on his back.  Started a seminary, which is a worldwide seminary now, in Lakewood, New Jersey.  My father helped him with students and with giving him the financial directive to help him.  He was a man that, when he looked at you, he had piercing blue eyes.  You felt that he's looking right at your soul.  If I ever wanted to do anything bad, I would close my eyes, so he couldn't see.  (laughter)  But I learned a lot from that.  I saw my father once, on the floor, on all fours, wiping up the bathroom from this man. 

JF:  Why was that?

HW:  I said to him, "Poppa, I'll do it."  And he said to me -- this is, of course, was all in Jewish.  He said to me, no.  "From a scholar, you take everything." And he wouldn't let me clean the --

JF:  Where was this man from? 

HW:  Europe

JF:  So, was he a refugee?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Were you meeting a lot of refugees?

HW:  Yes.  My father sent a lot of telegrams, trying to get a lot of people out.  Some of the larger seminaries in Europe -- they still have the telegrams where they said -- they appreciated that he wanted to bring them.  But they are going to stay with their students.  They were killed for this. 

JF:  Now, this is the '30s that we are talking about now?

HW:  In the '40s.

JF:  In the '40s.  You were a young girl then.

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Did this make an impression on you?  The refugees?

HW:  Yes.  One -- where it made a very deep impression on me was H.G. Wells' story -- what was that called?  "The World?"

JF:  "War of the Worlds."

HW:  "War of the Worlds."  When -- I was sure the world was going to come to an end.  Yes.   But I mean everybody.  There were people that committed suicide.  I remember that distinctly.  I remember when Amelia Earhart was lost.  I remember the night that the King was going to abdicate.  Of course, we were Sabbath observers.  But my mother left the radio on in the bedroom.  My father was not happy about it.  But she left it because she wanted to hear what he would say.  So, of course, it was (laughter) talking all day long because it couldn't close it off.  But that was quite a -- (laughter)  For a young girl -- imagine giving up a kingdom for the woman he loves.  It was a big deal.

JF:  Well, you brought up another subject that I wanted to ask you about.  And that's about how religion was observed in your home.  You were Orthodox?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Correct?  So, I was wondering if you could tell me about that?

HW:  It's hard to tell it because you lived it. 

JF:  Sure.

HW:  It wasn't divided.  It wasn't that the religion was this, and the home was this.  It was just part and parcel of your life.  So --

JF:  Your mother kept kosher?

HW:  Yes, yes.  Of course.  But it was never as -- it wasn't a burden.  I mean, this is the way it was.

JF:  How about the holidays?  How were the holidays?

HW:  Beautiful.

JF:  Can you tell me about that?

HW:  What can I tell you?

JF:  Special memories?

HW:  The memories were many.  Sukkot - which comes right after Yom Kippur -- when you build a little sukkah, and you have your meals there.  You are in there as much as you can to signify that you -- let's see, how would you word it? Your faith in God was that He would keep you.  He would sustain you -- just like in the desert when the Hebrews were in the desert, and there was nothing to protect them but God.  It was a beautiful time.  I remember we once had a gentleman come.  He was in his 90s.  Very big, tall man.  He carried a mattress into the sukkah himself.  I never forgot that.  But he didn't go in through a door.  He went outside of my room that was like a roof.  He went from the roof, and he slid into the sukkah (laughter) with this mattress.  In the 90s.  Imagine that?  (laughter) The strength of this man.

JF:  So, you had a garden area outside the apartment?

HW:  No.  At that time, we were in a house.

JF:  Oh.  OK.  When did you move?

HW:  I think we moved -- it must have been -- I'm not sure -- but I think it must have been about '41.

JF:  So, you would have been in junior high?

HW:  In junior high.

JF:  Where did you move to?

HW:  Not far from where our apartment was -- but into a house.  Very, very beautiful memories there.  We also had very interesting people.  We once had a woman come, and she said she has no place to go.  She stayed with us.  She told us she was from California.  No, from Chicago.  She stayed with us.  I think it was about 5 or 6 weeks.  We couldn't get rid of her.  One day, she got a very bad cold.  I killed her with kindness.  I really did.  I gave her teas and everything.  So much so that she got disgusted, and she moved out that day.  She said to my mother – "I want you to know that I'm not from Chicago; I'm from California." So, my mother said, "Well, then why did you tell us you're from, "(laughter).  She said, "So you wouldn't ask questions about California.  You would ask about the weather in --" (laughter) 

JF:  Strange.

HW:  Strange people.  Yes.   

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  Really very interesting people.

JF:  OK, I wanted to hear more about your education.  We talked about your elementary school.  I also wanted to hear about your Jewish education.  I'm sure it was a --

HW:  My Jewish education - I went to what you call a Talmud Torah at that time.  But it reached a point where I wasn't getting enough.  So, my father got a rebbe for me -- a teacher -- who came to the house three times a week.

JF:  What did he --

HW:  I learned with him.

JF:  What did he teach you?

HW:  He taught me Bible, I guess you would call it.  He taught me the Five Books of Moses.  How to pray.  What the prayers meant -- you know?  By the time they made a Bais Yaakov Seminary, a girl's school in Baltimore, I was already -- I think I must have been about 5th, 6th grade.  They just started, so I didn't go there. 

JF:  Were you interested in your father's livelihood? 

Did you share these interests?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Study of the Bible and the Talmud?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  OK. 

HW:  Yes.  It was very interesting to watch my father.  I'll show you the library.  His library -- he was blinded in one eye when he was a student.  He was a student in a seminary in Europe where they used to go -- the boys on Fridays - -used to go swimming there in the river.  The Cossacks came.  Took him out of the water and were poking him with a bayonet, and they damaged one of his eyes.  They were yelling to the other student that was there with him, "You go tell you -- you Jew boy -- that we're going to kidnap him.  We're going to kill him unless they ransom him."  

So, this other student went, and he got the head of the seminary to come.  He went into the students and was yelling – "Jews bring in your money and your jewelry.  Everything -- we have to save this boy.  He's going to be a gadol." G-A-D-O-L.  Which is -- how would you translate that?  A great scholar.  So, they did, and they rescued him.  One thing that I do remember, and it really has nothing to do with this -- but the head of the seminary felt -- my father at that time was 13 -- felt that this boy is going to really be something.  He did not tell him that my grandfather died until after the year.  I never could understand that.  It didn't make any sense to me. 

JF:  What was the rationale? 

HW:  The rationale was that he was learning the whole Torah at that time.  He was going through it.  The rebbe was afraid that it would stop his training for him.  I don't see how anybody could take that upon himself -- I mean, I question that as a child, and I still question it.

JF:  Well, that's quite a story. 

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Can you tell me more about Ner Israel?  About -- your father started it?

HW:  My father started it.  My father founded it.  It was -- he was a man of vision -- truly a man of vision.  He had seven students.  When I was sitting shiva -- S-H-I-V-A -- sitting shiva for my father -- one of his earlier students came and told me that he was walking with my father.  My father was telling him, "I don't have money to give them supper." They were just walking.  As they were walking, they passed by the IBM building that was being built.  My father said, "You see this, Moshe?" He said, "Someday, the yeshiva will have a building like this." He said, "Rebbe, you're just telling me that you don't have money for supper?" He said," Yes, that's now.  But what we will have -- is that we will have something like this." He had such a vision.

JF:  What was his ideal for Ner Israel to become?

HW:  It should be a place where boys could learn.  But, learn properly.  Learn truth.  That was his -- he was always very truthful.  He once had a group of men come to him.  It must have been in the early '40s.  They brought him five -- what was it five thousand?  No, I think it was $10,000.  As a donation to the yeshiva.  My father asked him -- they came from -- I can't think -- up north in Maryland.  A big city in Maryland.  What was that called?

JF:  Annapolis?

HW:  No, it was up near Deep Creek.  When you go to Deep Creek -- there's a -- I'll think of it.  So, they brought him the money.  He said, "Where did it come from?  Where did you get the money?" They said from -- "Well, we have a club." So, he says, "How did you raise the money?" They said, "We had a smoker."

JF:  A what?

HW:  A smoker.

JF:  A smoker?  What's that?

HW:  My father said, "What's a smoker?" He said, "Do you know, men get together and they're smoking, and you wheel in a cake, and a girl comes out from the cake." My father said, "Thank you very much.  But that money I do not want."  He wouldn't take it.

JF:  So, he was very principled?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Now, his school was a yeshiva.  It was for boys only.  Now, did you ever feel any conflict between your own education, as a girl, not being able to go there?

HW:  No.  Because, I mean, the boys were learning.  That was their way of life.  I don't know -- it could be because I grew up with them.  They were like my brothers -- do you know what I mean?  It wasn't a girl/boy relationship.

JF:  Did you ever think, Gee, I wish I could go to the yeshiva too?

HW:  No.

JF:  No? 

HW:  No.  I guess I wasn't a feminist.

JF:  (laughter) OK.  Well, let's talk about your school.  We talked about your elementary school.  How about junior high?  Where did you go to junior high?

HW:  Here, in Baltimore.

JF:  Which junior high?

HW:  junior high?  Forest Park.

JF:  Forest Park?

HW:  Mmm.

JF:  OK.  Could you tell me about that?  About high school?

HW:  OK.  Tell you about high school.

JF:  Did you learn anything?

HW:  I must have.  (laughter)

JF:   (laughter)

HW:  Nothing really sticks out from that time, except that I had pneumonia.  In those years, to get pneumonia was not -- not so easy.  It was just at the time when sulfa came out.  I had to take it, and I remember my mother kept a -- the doctor insisted that I have Jell-O.  At that time, Jell-O was not kosher.  So, my mother had a separate pot and spoon that she had to -- and of course, my father said -- for good permissible -- because of that -- at that time, pneumonia was quite serious.  So, at the time, until I got out of danger, I had to have that.  Of course, they gave it to me.  It was good.

JF:  (laughter) Did you ever encounter any antisemitism?

HW:  Yes. 

JF:  Can you tell me about that?

HW:  Well, I encountered it in school.  Teachers. 

JF:  What did they do?

HW:  Well, it wasn't so much what they did -- as much as what they didn't do.  They had some girls --

[phone rings in background]

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  We're recording again.

HW:  My father once had a convention of 14 rabbis who were from Europe.  My mother -- I remember this succinctly.  My mother made a lunch of vegetable soup and a big platter of tuna fish salad.  One of the rabbis took this platter, and slid it over to him, and said, "Oh, rebbetzin, it's much too much."  He started eating from the platter.  (laughter)  Of course, the others realized what he did, you know?

JF:  (laughter) Oh my goodness.

HW:  My mother's -- I must have been about eleven. 

My mother sent me out through the back to the grocery store -- quick -- to bring more so that she could make more.  Then, there was a rabbi who always carried a little doctor's suitcase.  He never traveled without it.  It was his chicken.  

JF:  It was his chicken?

HW:  Wherever he went, he never ate any place but his own food.  So, when he came to this convention -- and my mother, of course, served everybody with dishes and china.  But, for him, she gave him a plain Melmac.  They didn't have paper dishes at that time.  He says, "How come?  Everybody gets the beautiful china, and to me, you give," and she said, "I'll tell you" -- she said, "Rabbi Silver, if you can't trust my kashrus, I can't give you my dishes."

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  That made the round, you know? 

JF:  I'll bet.  Your mother sounds like quite a strong woman.

HW:  Oh, was she something.

JF:  Tell me about her.

HW:  Three-inch heels and chain-smoked.

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  Those years, she had a gall bladder.  The doctors had to teach her not to get up and run -- would tell her, after eating, she should light a cigarette.

JF:  Oh.

HW:  Of course, she did that.  I remember years later -- later than that - that the Chief Rabbi of England was visiting.  My father said to my mother, "Don't smoke when they are here.  You are not to do that." She said, "OK." She was prepared to be miserable.  A whole lot.  At that time, I was married already.  My mother asked me to come and serve lunch.  So, I did.  This Mrs.  Brodie asked me where the ladies' room is.  I took her into my mother's bedroom and showed her the bathroom.  Waited for her to come out.  She came out about ten minutes later.  "Oh," she said, "I thought -- I needed that cigarette so badly." (laughter) Oh, so those two ladies had --

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  Because her husband told her not to dare smoke.

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  In our house.

JF:  (laughter) That's a great story.

HW:  It's true.

JF:  I believe it.  I believe that.

HW:  I had a friend in Camden, New Jersey, whose mother was not allowed to smoke.  Her father was dead set against it.  But she had a rubber boot -- galosh under the table.  Whenever he wasn't there -- she would smoke and put it out in this rubber thing that smelled awful.

JF:  (laughter) I'll bet.  Well, tell me more about your mother.

HW:  My mother was a very interesting woman.  I think she must have been the first feminist there ever was.  Very interesting woman.  Very principled.  She had five sisters -- oh, four sisters.  Her father told her when she was very young -- that the way she's going to behave is the way her other sisters would behave.

JF:  She was the oldest?

HW:  She was the eldest, and she loved opera.  In Europe, she went to see the opera.  She loved music.  She was the renegade, I guess, in that small town.  But she listened to him.  She met my father.  And, the way she met my father was they were all in Europe.  They used to call it a dasha.  D-A-S-H-A -- I think is the Russian word.  Vacation.  And they all went to beautiful pinewoods.  She was in a hammock.  And he, apparently, was leaning against it talking to a friend of his -- and he threw her out -- that's how they met.

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  (laughter) So -- 

JF:  So, they really had to notice each other?

HW:  Yes.  I think so.  I think so.

JF:  That's a lovely story. 

HW:  Yes.

JF:  So, how did she spend her days?

HW:  She was doing a lot of entertaining.  People all the time.  Really -- from all over.  To give you a picture of my mother -- I can tell you an incident which -- shows the strength of her character.  There was a woman who came from Nova Scotia.  She had a son here.  Every time she came, every single time -- and she was -- she came like six or seven years -- every time she came, something would happen.  One time she came, my grandmother had a detached retina.  My mother was taking care of her.  One time she came, and my father had -- at that time, it was called locked bowels.  He was in the hospital.  Every time.  So, she got into the habit - she would come in -- and she would say --

[phone rings in background]

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  So, you had this visitor from Nova Scotia.  Every time she came, some disaster happened.

HW:  She came once, and it was her son's graduation from Hopkins.  Before she opened the door, she said, "Is everything all right?  I'm not going to walk in unless everything's all right." My mother said," Everything is fine.  Don't worry." She walked in, and the phone rang.  It was the nurse at school -- to tell my mother that she thinks I have appendicitis. 

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  My mother -- which I would never do -- my mother went into another room, called the doctor, and told the doctor to please come and see me.  But she must wait until the graduation because the woman will have a nervous breakdown.  Went to the graduation.  Meanwhile, the doctor came.  He took me in his car to the hospital, where I had surgery.

JF:  Oh.

HW:  Of course, he didn't do surgery until she came inside.

JF:  Right.

HW:  But can you imagine?  I wouldn't have done that. 

JF:  That's tough.  That's really tough.  Well, before the phone rang the other time, you were telling me about encountering antisemitism among the teachers at school. 

HW:  Among the pupils.

JF:  Among the pupils. 

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Can you tell me about that?

HW:  It just wasn't pleasant.

JF:  Well, did they say things? 

HW:  The children would say -- her father's a rabbi.  Or if it was a high - -if it was a holiday.  It was –- she didn't go to school because it was a Jewish holiday.  She was playing hooky.  You know, nasty.  I wasn't friends with them.  I didn't associate with them, so it was easy for them to say, you know --

JF:  Did you have friends who were non-Jewish?

HW:  Non-Jewish?  No.  I had friends that weren't religious.  But not non-Jewish.  No.

JF:  OK.

HW:  I had a friend -- a very good friend.  The one that I spent a lot of time with and went to school with every day -- who was, I would say -- quasi-religious.  When we graduated junior high -- No, we graduated high school.  My grandfather passed away -- it wasn't the week of shiva; it was right after.  But I was supposed to play.  I played the violin.  I was supposed to play at the graduation.  I didn't want to go from home.  So, I slept at my friend's house.  Not knowing that when you put on the light, her radio goes on.  It was connected -- like she -- like it was a double connection in the ceiling?

JF:  Right.

HW:  One was the light.  The other one, the radio, was on.  I had my graduation dress over my head.  And could not get out of it.  And I hear this man's voice -- "Are you tired?" (laughter) I screamed. 

 It was an advertisement -- Carter's Little Liver Pills at that time.

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  But I had no idea.  They kept that radio on -- her mother kept the radio in the china closet.  (laughter) I never forgot that.

JF:  I'll bet.  (laughter)

HW:  (laughter) These are things --- isolated things that you remember.

JF:  OK.  So, what year did you graduate high school?

HW:  '45.

JF:  '45?

HW:  '44.

JF:  '44?  Because this was still during the war.

HW:  Mmm-hmm.

JF:  Do you have any particular memories about the war and how it affected you?

HW:  Well, the memories were mostly what we were getting -- messages that the general public did not get.  There were certain rabbis who knew of the concentration camps, what was happening in concentration camps.  That the State Department here was not helpful at all.  A lot about FDR -- you know? About like he had a Jew -- what was his name?  Frankfurter, I think.  Everybody thought he loves Jews.  Later, it came out that he knew what was going on and could have saved thousands and thousands, which he didn't.  But at that time, the general public thought that he was God's gift to humanity.  So, we were getting reports that the general public did not get - which was -- 

JF:  Was there anything that could be done?

HW:  We had 32 young men brought from Sweden to the yeshiva.  My father got the passports and visas for these 32 men.  I remember when they came -- they came with the clothes on their backs, OK?  

One of them had a bar of soap.  Human soap.  He wouldn't go anyplace without that soap so that he should never forget.  That was just such an unbelievable sight -- when they marched through -- I mean, the Jewish community all came.  They marched through, and they were like skeletons.  That was after they had been like four months in Sweden.  They came with nothing.  When they saw a policeman, they would run.  They were scared.  There was one of them came with a wife who was pregnant.  I helped her quite a bit.  At that point, when she came, I was married.  I helped her and set her up.  She came with nothing.  We stayed good friends.  Her husband's gone.  But it was a sight that nobody there could forget because they were like from the dead.  I think -- they're from the dead.

JF:  So, these were concentration camp survivors, you're saying?

HW:  Yes. 

JF:  This was after the war was over?  Is that right?

HW:  That was it, yes.  They came -- the war -- I don't think the war was really over when they came.  I don't remember for sure.  I don't think so.  I mean, I would have to check.  I really don't remember that the war was actually over.

JF:  But you were married then?

HW:  It could be the Japanese war was -- the war with Japan was still going.

JF:  But you were married by this time -- is that right?

HW:  Yes. 

JF:  When did you marry?

HW:  I got married in '45.

JF:  Tell me how you met your husband?

HW:  My husband -- I met very strangely.

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  It wasn't a shidduch [arranged marriage].

JF:  No, OK.  So then, how did you meet?

HW:  How did we meet?  He always collected books.  Hebrew books which we call sforim.  S-F-O-R-I-M.  There was a rabbi here that -- his wife threatened that either he or the books have to go --

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  Because there was no place for human beings.  He was selling of his books.  So, he came to see them.  His brother is married to a Baltimore girl.  He thought he would stay with her parents.  But they weren't in town.  When he came, he came to the yeshiva.  I met him when I was 17.  My father had no idea -- well, totally not thinking in terms of anything.  The yeshiva was having their first -- I guess you would call it a conference of students coming back, you know, visiting. 

We had six boys staying with us, and there was no room at the yeshiva.  My father started speaking to him in learning, and he liked the way he was learning.  Wanted him to talk to him more.  So, he brought him to the house.  At that time, when he came, I didn't meet him. 

 I was in my last year of high school.  But I was -- I took at that time -- they had an A-course.  Which, if your marks were at a certain level, they'd let you take the first year at Hopkins.  So, that's what I was doing.  I didn't meet him until Friday night at the table.  We spoke the whole night.  The entire night. 

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  He went back to New York, and he told his parents he met the girl he's going to marry.  He didn't tell me.

JF:  Did you feel the same way?

HW:  No.  I really didn't.  I mean, I thought he was nice.  But it was just a -- I was so used to boys, you know what I mean?  Like when you're very used to it -- it didn't -- and then, and he told his rebbe that he met the girl he was going to marry. 

The following weekend -- I was president of the B'nos, the organization of girls.  I had 14 girls in my house the following week -- I didn't know that this -- that my brother-in-law's mother, the one that lives in Baltimore -- called up and asked my mother, "I have a visitor, Mrs.  Weinberg.  She would like to meet you." So, my mother said, "Bring her over." This woman was following me around.  That's how we met.

JF:  What was his name?

HW:  His name?

JF:  Mmm hmm.

HW:  Yaakob.  Y-A-A-K-O-B.  Jacob.

JF:  And, his last name?

HW:  Weinberg.

JF:  Was that your maiden name as well?

HW:  My maiden name is Ruderman.

JF:  Ruderman, OK.  OK, so that's how you met. 

HW:  Yes.

JF:  How long before you decided to get married?

HW:  Well, I think we wrote about almost a year before we got married.  We got married in '45. 

JF:  You decided to -- and he lived in New York?

HW:  Mmm-hmm.

JF:  Or had he come here to go to the yeshiva?

HW:  No.

JF:  Oh, he was still in New York.  What happened when you got married?  Where did you decide to live?

HW:  Well, we were here.  We lived here.  He came here, and he learned here; he learned here a year.

JF:  He was still a student when you got married?

HW:  Yes.  He was, but he already had smicha.  S-M-I-C-H-A -- which is the highest that you can get.  He already had that.  He was very young to have it. 

JF:  How old --

HW:  He was 21.

JF:  He was 21?

HW:  Yes.  So, that was -- that's that.

JF:  So, what happened after you got married?  Where did you live?

HW:  We lived in Baltimore.

JF:  Where in Baltimore?

HW:  We had a house.  A little house.

JF:  In the same neighborhood?

HW:  No.  In Columbus Rd.  -- no, a different neighborhood.  A different neighborhood.

JF:  How did your life change?  You went from being a schoolgirl to --

HW:  How did my life change?  At that time, I was already very active in communal --

JF:  Oh, OK.  Would you tell me about that?

HW:  I was collecting clothes for Israel.  We would send several times a year, we would send clothes.  It was a big production then to send clothes. 

JF:  And this was before the State of Israel was established, correct?

HW:  Well, that was '48, it was established, yes, that was before.  It was a very nice life then.  I would say that after the '60s, it wasn't much until Kennedy was assassinated.  It was relatively much easier.

JF:  Can you tell me more about the community organizations you were involved in?  Which ones were they?

HW:  Well, really, I was involved in -- was my first venture, I would say.  I learned a lot from it.  I had a baby, and I just came home from the hospital with him.

JF:  When did you have your first baby?

HW:  My first baby was in '46.  It was a boy.  I got a call that they're -- I really don't even remember how I got the call.  But they said that a young woman who was pregnant came to Baltimore.  Doesn't have anything.  Has to have an operation at Bromer (sp?) Institute.  And, you know, is there anything I could do to help?  So, I made a shower for her.  I remember it was the first time that I really learned how people are like.  I have to tell you something that comes beforehand.

JF:  Mmm.

HW:  You asked me memories of when I lived in Cleveland.

JF:  Mmm-hmm.

HW:  There was one memory I didn't mention.  Should I mention it?

JF:  Please.

HW:  Well, you know, we just came really from Europe.  We were just a year in New Haven.  There was a little kitty-cat that came to my grandparents' porch every morning.  I gave it milk; that was my responsibility every morning.  One morning I went out, and she scratched me the whole length of my arm and made such an impression.  I remember I ran to my zaide [grandfather].  "Zaide, how could this be?  I'm the one that's giving the milk." He put me on his knee.  I was very close to him.  He said to me.  "Chanale, this is good for you to remember.  You will find people who you will help, and they'll turn around, and they'll scratch you.  But don't stop.  Still help them." Imagine - telling that to a four-year-old.  (laughter)

JF:  That's quite something.

HW:  Well, at that time, I guess I was five.  But it was -- anyway, I help this woman -- not to tell you how great I am, but just how -- it was such a lesson to me.  I went to the grocery, and I got these large -- used to be onions and potatoes you could get in these sacks, and flour -- and I'm just mentioning it just to -- and sugar and everything.  Next door was a meat market guy.  Everything she could possibly need.  There was here, in Baltimore, a department store called Ben's.  They gave me a high-riser and a chifforobe for her and a crib for the baby.  I got a scale -- in those days, you weighed the baby.  And baby clothes.  I'm enumerating -- just -- you'll know in a minute why.  There was an organization here called the Royal Sisters.  They called me, and they said they heard about this family.  Oh yes, I got a nurse to take care of the baby while she had cataract surgery.  That they would do clearly wonderful things, but they would go to see.  So, she asked me about the family.  I told her and told her what they had.  She said, "But I would like to go and see what -- 

[phone rings in the background]

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  You were telling me the story of this woman that you were planning a baby shower for.  And --

HW:  I gave her the baby shower.

JF:  Right. 

HW:  Anyway, the president of Royal Sisters went down.  Called me up.

[phone rings in the background]

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  So, the Royal Sisters called you?

HW:  They went.  She called back.  She said, "Mrs.  Weinberg, there's nothing there." I said, "What do you mean nothing there?" She said, "They're sleeping on army cots.  The baby is in a carton." I said, "There's no high riser?"

JF:  She says, "No."

HW:  There's no chifforobe?  Bureau?  No.  I said, "It can't be." She said, "There's nothing there.  There's no food.  The staples are not there that you told us." I called up the grocery, and they said they delivered it.  So, I called up the woman.  "Did you have furniture?" "Yes." "Where's the furniture?" "We sold it." "Sold it?" "Why?" "Because we don't need all this.  We sold it -- we want the money instead." At that point, I called up the Jewish Family Services.  I was a novice at this then.  One of the women they have -- I told her this whole thing.  She said – "I'm going to prove something to you.  When can you go down?  I'll take you down." So, I made up a time with her, went down there.  The woman that had the baby, and her mother, and her father.  I didn't know where her husband was.  So, the social worker took out four tickets, four bus tickets, and said, "Here, there's tickets for you to go back to where you came from -- to Philadelphia." Now, her grandmother said, "We're not leaving Baltimore.  This is a schmaltzgrub." I didn't even know what that meant.

[phone rings in the background.]

(Break in the tape)

HW:  Fat pot, you know?

JF:  OK.  So, you have these four bus tickets.

HW:  She said, "We found a schmaltzgrub here.  We found a" -- I forget what -- how would you translate a schmaltzgrub?  A fat vat, I guess.  Or fat -- "We're not going to move." 

JF:  What did you do?

HW:  What did I do?  I said, "I wish you people mazel [luck].  There's nothing more that I could do for you.  You'll just have to help yourself." I mean, I was just -- you know, how I felt?  The efforts that went into get them what they needed?  It was a lesson.  They had a very unusual name.  When my daughter graduated nursery, which was four years later, I went to the graduation.  I heard this name because that baby was born then, too.  And, I realized that they were still in town.  But that was it.  It taught me.  Really taught me. 

JF:  That is quite a story.

HW:  I mean -- furniture.  So, you don't live like an animal.  You sell it for money?

JF:  Pretty sad, isn't it?

HW:  You should have seen those army cots.

JF:  Now, here's a question that I should have asked you earlier.  Did your family belong to a synagogue? 

HW:  Well, no, because the -- when the early days -- the yeshiva was in a synagogue.  It was a frame building that was a synagogue.  So, the one floor was a synagogue.  Then the other floor was a dorm, and the bottom floor was the kitchen, so it was connected.  We went to shul there.

JF:  How about after you were married?

HW:  Still there.

JF:  You continued to go there.  OK.  After your husband completed his studies, what did he do?

HW:  He became a teacher.

JF:  At Ner Israel?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  OK. 

HW:  Yes.

JF:  So, things were pretty stable.

HW:  Yes.

JF:  How about you?  You talked about getting involved in community organizations?

HW:  Always in them.

JF:  Tell me more.  The way the phone's been ringing, it seems like you're still involved?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  Very much so. 

JF:  Tell me more.  Tell me about the most important organizations and causes that you were involved in.

HW:  What am I involved in?  I'm one of the founders of Bikur Cholim -- B-I-K-U-R C-H-O-L-I-M, which means visiting the sick.  I'll show you -- you know what I do.  I work on the committees.  I'm the coordinator.  But, most of the projects I handle are done by committee.

JF:  What does Bikur Cholim do?

HW:  We visit 22 hospitals in the Baltimore, Maryland area.  We bring them challah rolls, grape juice, flowers, do what they need help, we do.  We have a crisis -- if they need money, we have that.  Besides the hospital committee, we have a hospitality.  If somebody's ill and can't make food, we have foods prepared for them.  We have a transportation committee that takes people to the hospital and to the doctors.  Or to the psychiatrist, or whatever.  We have a mailing once a year and a malava malkah -- and that's the way that we get monies in, plus grants.

JF:  You say that you were one of the founding members?

HW:  I helped found it, yes.

JF:  When was that?

HW:  That was fourteen years ago.

JF:  Fourteen years ago.

HW:  Yes.  At the same time, I'm very involved with -- oh, it is going on sixteen years -- at the first safe house.

JF:  OK.  Can you tell me about it?

HW:  Through my husband's people -- coming to my husband with problems -- I saw that this was needed and started that in somebody's house.  Not in -- right in the proper, like where we live.  And started working on domestic abuse.

JF:  Can you tell me about that?  Because that's a very important issue.  But, sometimes, people don't want to talk about it.  So, it is very important to talk about it. 

[telephone rings in the background]

JF:  After this phone call.

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  We were talking about your work with domestic violence.  How did this come about?  Take me back to the beginning.

HW:  Well, people would come in to speak to Rabbi Weinberg that had problems.

JF:  Women or men?

HW:  Both.  That's how it started.  I had two places outside of the house.  Outside.  What can I tell you?

JF:  Tell me anything.

HW:  I also had in -- I think it's in Rosewood.  I went there.  That was an experience to go there -- to see a state safe house.  Then I got another shock of my life.  I went in there they had -- they gave me a room with two beds and a crib.  I could bring in kosher food.  They had microwaves.  So, on the way back, I decided I'm going to stop and tell this to my father -- I'm sure he never heard this, you know? I went to see my father.  I told him about this.  I said, "Did you ever hear of such a thing?" He says, "Of course." "What do you mean, 'of course'?" He said, "They had it in Europe." "Had it in Europe?" He told me that in Europe, all the windows were like over a courtyard, and you could hear the slaps and the screams and the dishes breaking.  I said, "So what did you do?" He closed his shutters. 

[phone rings in the background.]

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  So, you were telling me how your work with domestic violence started.  You said your father had known this problem in Europe -- and people just closed the shutters.  But you decided you wanted to do -- open the shutters.

HW:  Open the shutters.  That's been most of my work.  What I've done is -- on different levels -- like I've found a lot of disbelief and -- what would you call it?  What word would you use?  Resistance to acceptance that there's such a thing as domestic violence.  I spoke in Far Rockaway.  When they first -- the Sholem Task Force opened and was told that the rabbi sent out letters to everybody.  Anybody that tries to take a wife away from her husband should be burnt.  That type of thing.

[phone rings in the background]

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  You were telling me that you spoke to a group in Far Rockaway.   That they had gotten a letter from the rabbi saying that anyone who tries to take a wife --

HW:  They didn't get a letter.  A letter was sent out to his congregants.

JF:  Oh, but not from him?

HW:  From him.

JF:  Oh, from him, OK.  Saying -- well, you continue.

HW:  Saying that anybody that tries to take a wife away from her husband should be burned.  One of the women, after I spoke, came up to me.  She identified herself and she's his wife.  She said, "When I get back, he's going to hear plenty."

JF:  Good for her. 

HW:  Yes.  So that has been my work.  In conjunction with that, I have sort of an underground railroad system -- where, instead of them all coming here, then I have different places where they can go.  For instance, I used to get someone from Texas come all the way here.  I don't have to do that now.  I can send her to a safe house. 

JF:  So, how does this work?  Someone -- do you have a reputation now?

HW:  Yes, yes.

JF:  As being the person?

HW:  Yes.  I understand it's on the website, too.  I don't know that -- but --

JF:  So, people come to you?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  You get them out of the homes now?  

HW:  Unbelievable.   

JF:  Can you tell me some of the strongest memories that you have of this work?

HW:  Well, let's see - the woman that you saw here today?

JF:  Mmm-hmm.

HW:  I took her out from -- well, she lives in Baltimore.  I had to take her out in the middle of the day with my car and somebody else with a station wagon.   We got her out while her husband was at work.  She -- and thank goodness -- now she has a divorce.  She's settled in a house with her children, and she's OK.

JF:  I take it that your husband was also very supportive?

HW:  Yes, he was.  One time, he had the flu.   He was once home and heard what was going on.  There was someone here.  You just can't believe the whole thing.  But the woman had a baby six weeks old.  Her husband took the baby's birth certificate, took her mother's passport.  She called me from the neighbor's.  He said, "When I come back, I'm going to kill you," and she was really scared.  I got her out.  The way I got her out -- my husband said to me -- less than a year -- he would have thought he was feeding this -- I was on the phone trying to get money.  She was from Haifa, Tel Aviv.  I was on the phone trying to get money.  I had somebody else going with her.  First of all, the woman, where she was, went back in the house and took out baby clothes and her clothes.  Then, I had somebody taking the woman to -- not far from here -- to get a passport picture.  Called up Senator Mikulski -- her secretary was someone that I knew -- to get a passport.  Got somebody else to pick up from here a suitcase, took it over a woman's house that doesn't ask any questions.  Told them never -- not to say anything.   Anybody tells her my name -- she knows that she can give the suitcase to -- it was like --

[END OF CD 1]

JF:  This is disk number 2 – an interview with Hanna Weinberg.  It's June 10, 2001.  We're in Baltimore, Maryland.  I'm Jean Freedman, recording for the Jewish Women's Archive -- Weaving Women's Words project.  OK, so you were telling me the story of this woman that you're getting out with the help of Senator Mikulski.

HW:  Yes, anyway, we -- she was afraid to go to the BWI Airport here.  She was afraid he would -- it would be the first place he'd look.

JF:  She wanted to go back to Israel?

HW:  She wanted to get out with her baby.

JF:  But she didn't have her passport.

HW:  Well, we arranged for a passport within 48 hours.  I had a couple take her to Dulles.  When she said goodbye to me, she said – "I hope my husband doesn't find out it was you." I said, "Don't tell him."

JF:  Have you ever had any threats or anything?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Really?

HW:  I had one a year and a half ago.  Right before my husband -- no, it was almost two years before he passed away.  We went many times to different -- how would you call it -- kollelim.  A kollel is where a group of students on a fellowship are sitting and studying.  Just like doctors who have a fellowship for that.  We have them in different cities.  It's in Columbus.  It's in Cincinnati.  In California.  So, I would go with Rabbi Weinberg, and he would speak to the men, and I would speak to the women.  We were in Cincinnati, and we came back, and we got a phone call from one of the Jewish Family Services -- said, "Listen, you know, the case that you've been working on -- he tried to throttle his wife.  And he told her he was going to come -- he's going to go and kill a social worker.  And then he's going to go direct to and kill her." So, she said, "I want you to know that I'm really, I'm really concerned." So, I said, "OK.  You know, what can you do?"  She said, "We're going to get an ex parte.  But I'm telling you that we're really nervous."  

The next day she called up -- well, first in the morning, my husband got an emergency call, and he had to leave for New York.  I was here alone.  She called up, and she said, "I've just heard from him, and he said he's coming to get me." And she said, "Please be careful." So, OK.  Be careful.  I locked the door.  I put on the alarm.  And then -- it must have been about 10:00 o'clock at night --she called up.  She was – "He was just here, and he was knocking and ringing and banging.  But he couldn't get in.  I called the police." But she said, "By the time the police came, he was gone.  I'm sure that he's gone and is on his way to you." So, what did I do?  (laughter) 

My daughter said I was crazy and that I should have gone to her.  I closed out all the lights.  I am telling you the truth -- I put on the night light in the bathroom, and I took a bath.  Because all the lights was pitch dark like nobody was here.  Just sat in there until the water got cold.  I had the phone and if anything went wrong, called the study hall, the boys will come, right over.  (laughter) Well, I heard him banging and knocking, and banging -- but he went away.  So --

JF:  Did you call the police?

HW:  No.  (laughter) That was it.  I called the study hall.  Right there -- and call the police for?  By the time the police come, you know?  So, thank God he left.  It was two months after that, I got a letter from him that he signed himself into Sheppard Pratt here.  He's sorry for what he did.  Then it was about three months later, I got a letter from him -- begging me to please take his wife and her rabbi and I should come, and he wants to just talk.  So, I called the psychiatrist at Sheppard Pratt, and he advised against it.  After that, I didn't hear from him.  But I got her out into a different city with her four children.

JF:  What do you say -- you say you've encountered disbelief and unwillingness to face the facts? What do you do?

HW:  Well, what I do now -- and I've done this for the past six years -- when I go to a conference or a convention, I meet the rabbis. 

I talk to them, one by one.  Give you an example.  Six years ago, my son-in-law was in the office at the college.  He saw a fax come in with my name, right?  So, he grabbed it to bring to me, and I read it.  People don't realize that a fax is not private.  It would have gone right through the office.  Everyone would have seen it.  It had names.  Facts of sexual dysfunction -- all kinds of things.  I went out that day and bought a fax machine.  And that's now; it is in the house.  

It was really a case of a seminary in New York, where the batterer was in the office.  He was an administrator in the office.  The woman was getting no help - nobody would help at all.  So, I went to a conference, and the rabbi there -- not the rabbi -- the rosh yeshiva -- which means the head of the academy -- and I spoke to him, and I said, "I guess you heard of this-and-this case?" He said, "Yes, I heard, but I wasn't listening." I said, "I would appreciate it if you would give me your time." And I spent about 20 or 25 minutes talking to him. 

At the end, he said, "Mrs.  Weinberg, I not only hear you, I'm listening." Ten days later, she had a divorce.  So, this is what I do one-on-one.  That's my work.

JF:  You've been doing this for 16 years?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  OK.  Let's go back in time a little bit.  Tell me about your children, and having children, bringing them up, and all that.  Being a mother.  Raising a family.

HW:  Interesting.  We have six.

JF:  OK.  Great. 

HW:  What can I tell you?

JF:  Well --

HW:  It's exasperating.  It's delightful.  It's hard.  It's everything put together.  But, we're very proud of all of them.  We really are. 

They're college-educated and seminary graduates and have gone through secular and Hebrew.  And they're all in different fields. 

JF:  Can you --

HW:  I have one that's a Ph.D., and she's a psychologist, licensed with an office.  I have another one that is principal of a school.  I have one that's an artist.  All the paintings I have here are hers.  She's had six shows.  All very interesting kids.

JF:  What are their names?

HW:  The oldest is Matis.  M-A-T-I-S.  And then my boys are bookends.  My bookends.  And then, there's Aviva.  A-V-I-V-A.  And Miriam.  And Yehudis -- or Judy.  And Naomi.  And Simcha. 

JF:  We're now sitting in your house on the campus of Ner Israel.  Is this where they grew up?

HW:  No, they grew up mostly in -- the campus moved -- it was in Forest Park when we lived there.  Then we moved to -- Ner Israel had a branch in Toronto, Canada, and we were there for seven years, and then we moved back here.  We lived in town for seven years, and then we moved on campus.

JF:  Can you tell me about the move to Toronto?  What was that like?

HW:  Interesting.  Different.  It was a big adjustment for the children.  The education system is much better in Canada.

JF:  Mmm.

HW:  Harder.  It was interesting, but I was working there for the -- Bay Crest -- Bay Crest Geriatric Center.

JF:  What were you doing?

HW:  Director of Volunteers.

JF:  Oh, OK.  So, you have a whole other career?

HW:  Yes.  On our move back here, I worked for a Jewish Convalescent Home, also -- for ten years.

JF:  What was your job there?

HW:  Director of Volunteers.

JF:  Director of Volunteers?

HW:  I went to Julie college and got Geriatric Certification.

JF:  You went to which college?

HW:  Villa Julie -- over here.  [Now known as Stevenson University].  I did undergraduate work at Loyola.  Let's see what else -- and taught Hebrew school for 21 years.

JF:  Where did you teach Hebrew school?

HW:  Liberty Jewish Center.  So, you see, I had a full --

JF:  Where did you find the time?  (laughter) Now, you made a very interesting comment earlier that I'd like to ask you about.  You said that up until the assassination of President Kennedy -- life was much better.  I wonder if you could expand on that?

HW:  Life was better in the sense that people were freer, easier, simpler, and I remember the day when I heard JFK was assassinated.  It seemed like everything went downhill after that.  There was fear.  There was the Vietnamese war.  You didn't have the same feeling that life just easily, merrily go along -- ups and downs of normal living.  Mundane and every day.  But I remember the Bay of Pigs -- when I took a civil defense course and had my basement full of canned goods and water, and -- I mean just, you tried to do what you felt you could -- we were so innocent.  We thought if you could go down to the basement, it would make a difference.  (laughter) It wouldn't have made any difference. 

There was a fear that wasn't there before.  The lack of security that you're just so vulnerable.  Of course, when we lived in Canada, we didn't have to lock the door at that time.  At the time we moved back here -- it was a different type of life here.  The kids couldn't ride their bikes at night all over.  They couldn't even go to the mailbox in the evening -- it was just such a difference.  You could just feel it.  It was just a -- the ease of living was less. 

JF:  Where did you live after you returned from Toronto?

HW:  On Falstaff, in Baltimore. 

JF:  Your children were -- when were they born?  I know your first one was born in -- 

HW:  When were they born?  '46.

JF:  '46. 

HW:  Right through to '59.  The youngest was born in '59. 

JF:  Did they go -- did the boys go to the yeshiva? 

HW:  Where their father was here?

JF:  Mmm-hmm.

HW:  Only when they finished most of their education.  They were on a higher level.

JF:  Did they all go to public school?

HW:  No, they went to the day schools.  Then they went to Israel.  For their higher education, they went to Israel.

JF:  OK.

HW:  One thing I can tell you -- that the children -- I asked them -- I said, "Are the times when I want to leave the supper dishes or, for them to do -- because somebody needed me to do something.  Did it bother them?" They said, "No, because you explained it was a mitzvah." Which I thought was very nice.  They didn't look at it like, you know -- and, my middle daughter said, "The only place we never slept is in the bathtub." I said, "Don't say that." Because one day, someone did, at Passover.  I came home, and I had a family that one of the students found -- they had lost their mother -- who were from Egypt and had no place to go because it was right before Pesach.  They stayed by me, you know?  He brought them to me.  She really slept -- (laughter) I put all kinds of blankets and things there, but --

JF:  But this was before you started your work on domestic violence.  So, people were coming to you with other problems?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Who were these people?

HW:  People needed help.

JF:  Needed help?

HW:  Needed clothing, needed food.

JF:  How did they know to come to you?

HW:  Don't ask me.

JF:  (laughter) But they did.

HW:  Yes.  They did.

JF:  OK.  Now, let me ask you a few questions about how things have changed in -- and we'll start first of all with Baltimore.  How has Baltimore changed since your --

HW:  Baltimore?  Well, I remember that they used to have -- what did they call them?  There's a name for it.  They used to come around in wagons.  It's called "One-Eyed Bandits" or something? I don't remember what they called them.  But we used to hear.  "Watermelon."  

Or "Strawberries."  They used to come through.  What did they call them?  What did they call them?  Bandits or something?  You know, a horse and wagon?

JF:  Street hawkers.

HW:  Street hawkers, and -- just Good Humor would come around with -- ringing their bells, you know? It's just that people would walk more than they would ride.  It was just -- I think it was a simpler life.  Children were children.  They weren't sophisticated.  They weren't as chutzpahdik as they are now.  They don't have a childhood now.  Right away, they know everything that there is to know.  It's a shame because they -- we were visiting in Australia.  I was asked to speak at a school.  That school had very sheltered children there.  They were a group of Orthodox Jews.  They don't go to the mall.  Don't have televisions.  Don't have papers.  Have their own stores, where to go.  Their own bakeries.  The children -- I spoke to a class of 17-year-olds.  I looked at their faces.  There was such an innocence on their faces.  You don't see that now.  It just had this pure look.  It was like from years back.  In fact, I asked the teacher, I said, "How come you let me come?" You know?  "Well, we checked you out." (laughter)

JF:  So, they constructed their own little world?

HW:  Which is fine for them, you know?

JF:  You're talking about how things have changed for children.  I was wondering - so, your first child was born in '45, and your last in '59?

HW:  Oh, '46.

JF:  '46.  Sorry.  Your last in '59.  Did you find that things changed for them growing up?  That things were very different?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Can you tell me about that?

HW:  Well, I think that the biggest thing was the loss of innocence.  That just the newspapers, the magazines.  There was such a time.  You could have anything in the house, and it would be all right.  Whereas, in the latter years, you had to look through it to see -- can they read these books?  Is it possible?  We wanted some semblance of normality and, at the same time, keep them as innocent as they have to be.  It was just that they were - -and as I think -- the younger ones -- also were -- I mean, there was so much happening in the world -- television.  I went through a rough period with my children.  Six weeks before, during and after Passover.  If you know anything about Passover, there's a lot to clean and do.  My children had chicken pox, measles, and mumps.  One after the other.  Whenever I think of that period, I think of children on two beds -- jumping from one bed to another.  I got a television -- which at that time wasn't so terrible to get -- simply for Howdy-Doody.  It was Howdy Doody Time.  It was, you know, wonderful for them.  (laughter) 

It kept them quiet a little bit.  Whereas now, it's just appalling the violence that children have to see.  I mean it just -- and they mimic these things.  Even in their talk.  I see a very big difference.  I look at my great-grandchildren, and I have -- there will be, hopefully, this year, 24 -- great-grandchildren.

JF:  My word.  How wonderful.

HW:  I have 45 grandchildren.

JF:  Oh, how wonderful.  Mazel tov.

HW:  Thank you.  I wonder what kind of a life they will have when they grow up.  It is certainly changing.

JF:  If you had to give them a -- tell them something that would help them through their lives -- what would you tell them?

HW:  Tell them that whatever they do, they should do in the emmistike (sp?), truth.  Without a doubt.  That if they believe in God and keep His Commandments -- they won't go wrong. 

[someone knocking on the door in the background]

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  We were talking about how things have changed in your lifetime.  We talked about how Baltimore had changed.  Since this project is looking at Jewish women in Baltimore -- I want to ask -- how things have changed for women in your lifetime -- and how you feel about these changes?

HW:  Oh, I think that there are a lot of changes.  Definitely. 

I think some of the changes are ridiculous.  By that, I mean that women would have so much more if they wouldn't be feminists. 

JF:  Mmm.  You want to --

HW:  I think they lost more than they gained.

JF:  How so?

HW:  How so?  Because no man is going to get up and give you a seat.  You're going to have to stand up with it.  Your feet are hurting.  Whereas, before, you know, a woman got on -- I think the emphasis has shifted in that respect.  True?

JF:  True.

HW:  I think the good things is that there are more possibilities for women in fields that things are more open to go into, which is a plus.  But I think that women have lost a lot because they've lost the ability to be feminine.  Not feminists -- feminine.  It's a shame.  There's so many women that feel that they have to be a number 10 wife, you know?  Do everything -- but it puts them on a terrible strain.  There is a such a thing as being a good homemaker or an excellent homemaker.  But you don't have to be everything to everybody.  So, they've lost more than they've gained.  That's only (laughter) my observation. 

JF:  Well, that's what I'm here for -- your observations.  Of course, I don't think that many people have done more than you have.  You've been working in --

HW:  I haven't done that much.

JF:  Working in all these community organizations, working to end domestic violence, being a Hebrew teacher. 

HW:  To tell you the truth -- I forgot to tell you -- I used to be in an orchestra.  I played the violin.  (laughter)

JF:  (laughter)  Raising six children, being a rebbetzin.

HW:  The truth of the matter is, I don't know, was just living life, I guess.

JF:  Tell me about being in an orchestra.

HW:  I played the violin.  I was in an orchestra.  It was a little ensemble.

JF:  When was this?

HW:  This was before I got married, when I was in high school.  Then, after I got married -- In fact, I was called up to play at a chicken dinner, but I was in the hospital having my son.  (laughter) 

JF:  That made it difficult to play.

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Do you still play?

HW:  I wish I did.  I have a phlebitis situation in my right leg.  I couldn't play sitting, and I couldn't play standing.  Unfortunately, I had to give it up.  I used to.  There was a student that played -- used to come over, and we'd play Vivaldi together.

JF:  Oh, how lovely.

HW:  But I haven't done it for years.  Unfortunately.

JF:  OK.  I want to ask you another question about how things have changed since focus of this project is Jewish women in Baltimore.  We've talked about Baltimore.  We've talked about how things have changed for women.

HW:  There's another way that they've changed.

JF:  Yes?

HW:  Where my mother was very involved -- like cooking and baking for affairs.  Like, whenever there was a luncheon, she'd cook and bake.  And the organizations -- the yeshiva or other organizations -- in Baltimore, the women used to go into the kitchen and cook and bake.  But not anymore.  They don't stand and bake in the kitchens and cook. 

They order.  The most they do is set the table.  Because I think the biggest reason is -- because more than 50 percent are working.  They really don't have time.  You see a change in the activities.  It used to be luncheons every month.  Now, there's like three luncheons a year because women are working.  They can't come out.  It's a big change. 

JF:  It's a major change.  So --

HW:  Oh, I forgot to tell you.  I write a column.  (laughter)

JF:  Where do you write?

HW:  It's a magazine, Where, What, When.  I write a column every month.

JF:  Tell me about this magazine.

HW:  It's a community magazine for the Orthodox community.  I write a column on sholom bais.

JF:  OK.  What is sholom bais?

HW:  Peace in the home.

JF:  What do you talk about?

HW:  People write letters, and I answer the letters.

JF:  Oh, I see.  So, it's an advice column?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  Excellent.  What kind of things do people write about?

HW:  All kinds.  The last one that we had -- I just finished Thursday -- was -- let me see what -- a mother wrote that she'd found that her son was stealing.  What should she do about it?  Then, someone read the letter and sent in what happened with her daughter.  That her daughter had been abused, she didn't know it - by a neighbor.  You know?  How important it is to see when a child starts to steal.  I'll show you a sample.

JF:  Yes, I'd like to see them.  Thank you.

HW:  Well, that's about it.  (laughter) That's about it.  I also -- but I do this very quietly.  But there's a bride that needs -- needs things.  So, I have contacts in New York, and I get her everything that she needs.  But, many times, do it through her friends.  For instance -- just last month -- had linens and everything that she needs -- new sheets, towels, blankets, quilts, pillows.  For the kitchen -- dishes -- two sets of dishes. 

Two sets of silverware.  A toaster oven, all things - so I've worked it out many times.  Sometimes, I do it through the mother that, you know -- but when I try to do it through her friends -- so, that if her friends throw her a shower, they pick up the things -- I have it delivered here.  Pick up the things, and they make it like any -- let's say that a girl wants to spend $10, $5 to buy a gift for a friend, and get that money together as a pot and give it to her in cash.  But then, she has a shower with these things.  The girl doesn't know that it's tzedakah [charity].

JF:  Oh, how lovely.

HW:  Yes, that's nice.  That's a nice work (laughter) compared to the domestic abuse.  It's lovely work.

JF:  Yes.

HW:  But -- 

JF:  Can you tell more about when you were Director of Volunteer Services here and in Toronto.  Was that full-time work?

HW:  Yes.  Full-time.

JF:  Full-time?  So that was full --

HW:  Eight to four. 

JF:  At the same time -- a lot of the times today -- we hear -- a lot of women work full-time; who have children and feel that they're being pulled a lot of different ways.

HW:  There were days when I felt that way, sure.

JF:  How did you respond to that?

HW:  Oh, I have a very funny thing.  There was a young couple that came to me to say hello.  They had come - the couples when they get married, they come.  The fellows bring their brides to show me and introduce us.  They were married for a while but came to say hello.  I was asking her -- how is everything?  She said, "Oh, he's just wonderful to me." She said, "One thing I don't understand.  He insists that my table has to be set Thursday night because that's the way the rebbetzin did it.  I said, "Yes, but I work full-time.  I think Thursday night." (laughter)

JF:  She didn't have time?

HW:  Friday would be set.  But he thought it was -- that's the way that it had to be -- poor girl had to set it Thursday night.

JF:  (laughter)

HW:  So, that's the law from Mt.  Sinai -- (laughter)

JF:  But it was just convenience?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  How did you work things out when you were working full-time?

HW:  Well, I usually did my cooking on Sunday for the whole week and then froze.  I found it much easier that way. 

JF:  So, you were very organized?

HW:  Yes, I always was.

JF:  Tell me more about the job.

HW:  The job?

JF:  Mmm-hmm.

HW:  Volunteers -- getting people to come in and help for the different activities that were in the home.  Many interesting experiences.

JF:  Can you share one or two?

HW:  Well, when somebody -- I used to contact the schools, if they had any children that were suitable for jobs.  One mother spoke to me.  "Oh, he's -- you know, please take him and this." There, again, I learned a lesson. 

I took him, sight unseen.  Told him to come in, and he sounded very good on the phone.  Then, when he came, I was just like floored.  He was this high.  He was a dwarf, which is very hard for him to take wheelchairs in this.  I had to find jobs for him that he wouldn't feel like we had -- I had a system of coding. 

Because, at that time, I was on the council for -- director of volunteers in Maryland.  We used to have a card, an interview card-- we used to fill out.  But it happened that the Red Cross didn't want to hire someone, and she - the woman thought that it was because of race; she sued everybody at Red Cross.  So, after that, we all had to make a coded system so that we wouldn't be -- have that again.  We used to get in some people from the courts that had to do volunteer work because of -- they might be in for a certain felony.  We had to be very careful who you took because we had drugs in the nursing home -- around.  So, you had to know what you were doing.  It was a responsible job.

JF:  Yes.  How long did you work there?

HW:  Ten years.

JF:  Why did you stop?

HW:  Why did I stop?  Good question.  Why did I stop?  I think at that time, my mother was failing.  I was still teaching.  I was working at the nursing home until three at that time and then went to teach from four to six.  And that's my --

JF:  You were teaching Hebrew?

HW:  Yes.  I kept that during the day -- I didn't give up completely.  She knew that I would be -- that I would be busy part-time.

JF:  Let me get this straight.  You were working full-time, and you were teaching part-time, and you were taking care of a family and whoever else came to you?

HW:  Right.  (laughter) This sounds like a lot, I guess.

JF:  It sounds like a lot, yes.  Yes.  OK.  I'm going to ask you another of those how-did-things-change-question.  How, in your lifetime, do you think things changed for Jews? 

HW:  Jews?  I think that Jews are too complacent, too comfortable.  I hope and pray that there won't be a time when they realize that we're not loved.  It's not going to change.  I think also that Jews, as a whole -- if they spend time to look up their rich heritage -- there's so many religions based on Judeo-Christian religion.  If people--and I had an occasion -- we had a conference in Boston -- at Brandeis on domestic abuse.  But also, they had different workshops.  I decided I would go to one, and the workshop was old rituals and writing of new rituals.  So, I decided I would go to hear.  The woman was speaking, and she was saying -- when you go through the fire of domestic abuse, you have to be cleansed and sanctified by going to the mikvah.  The mikvah is a ritual that a woman goes to until she is menopausal, and she doesn't have to go anymore.  But this woman gave it as the ritual of sanctifying and going into the ritual - -into the mikvah -- to cleanse yourself from domestic abuse.  Which isn't so -- that isn't why you go.  I was sitting there listening to this, and I went, "Oh my gosh" -- and then, there is a ceremony of Havdalah.  A ceremony of separating the Sabbath from the rest of the week.  When you make a sanctification with wine, and you light a candle, and you're saying this is the end of the Sabbath, the day of rest.  Now you go to the mundane.  Which is what Havdalah is.  But, she had it -- Havdalah is a separation between the horror of domestic abuse and not anymore.  "So," she said, "you light ashes.  And then, you blow out the fire.  And, when the ashes are cool, you throw them north, south, east, west," (laughter) I'm listening to this totally -- and, that's to make a separation between your life as a -- being abused, and your life not.  Then she said, " We are going to have a recess.  And when we come back, we'll be writing new rituals."

At that point, I took all my books and said, "I'm not going to stay.  Because this is ridiculous, and if I stay, I'm going to say something.  And I'm not going to stay." I went out during the recess.  I had my things with me.  It was like I was pushed back in -- really, I had no intention -- I didn't know how I got there.

[Phone rings in background.]

HW:  Oh, that's the --

(Break in the tape)

JF:  OK.  So, you had no intention of going back in.

HW:  I really had no intention.

JF:  But?

HW:  I got in and sat in the back.  She said, "Before we" -- and there were about 60 women in there.  All with their notepads, right?  She said, "Before we write new rituals," she said, "are there any questions?" 

JF:  You raised your hand?

HW:  Yes.  I had no intention -- I really didn't have any intention.  I said, "It seems to me that before we write new rituals, that we should examine what we do have in rituals." I said, "For 4,000 years, we've had King David's Psalms that have helped us through all ages." I said, "I think that the void that we feel in our lives is from not having the knowledge of our own religion and our own rituals.  Why don't we find out first what the rituals are and the root of our Judaism before we take upon ourselves to write new rituals." Then it was still.  I didn't hear a sound in the room.  She looked at her watch, and she said, "Oh, I didn't realize how late it is.  I am sorry.  I don't think that we can get to this writing.  And I'll have to stop the class."  

I had no idea, until after we all marched out, why I was in there.  Two people came up to me.  One said, "You are absolutely right." 

She said, "And when I get home, I am going to contact my rabbi and sit down and learn." The other one said to me -- she was from Lynn, Massachusetts.  "As soon as I get back," she said, "I'm getting myself somebody who can teach me." She says, "You're right.  I feel that emptiness.  I want to fill it." I knew that that's why I was in there -- for those two women.  Is that amazing?

JF:  That is.  Do you think a lot of people are doing that now?  Searching for their roots?

HW:  Yes. 

JF:  Now, tell me about the speaking tour you were just on?

HW:  Well, it just worked out that way.  I was supposed to go in March to Minneapolis.  But my doctor -- I had pneumonia -- my doctor wouldn't let me go.  He said, "It is too cold." So, I just put it together.  I was there. 

 I spoke.  I spoke seven times in one weekend.

JF:  In Minneapolis?

HW:  In Minneapolis.

JF:  And what were you speaking about?

HW:  I spoke on domestic abuse.  I spoke on sholom bais.  I spoke on women's role in Judaism.  I spoke on chesed, how to do kindnesses.  When not to do it.  What was the other one -- that I set up a Bikur Cholim in the city -- the city-wide Bikur Cholim.  They have a kollel.  I spoke to the kollel wives.  Seven times.  (laughter)

JF:  You mentioned that you spoke about women's role in Judaism.

HW:  Mmm.

JF:  I realize you can't give me your entire talk, but could you give me some in a nutshell?

HW:  In a nutshell, to show that every time there was a historical time that -- for instance -- Miriam.  We never heard about Miriam before.  We never heard about Miriam after.  But, in Egypt, when the Hebrews were slaves -- and the men and women there -- the Hebrew slaves decided that they would not live together so they wouldn't have children.  Miriam was the one to say, "But that this is against the law.  You have to have -- even though some of your children may be killed." Here was a girl to take upon herself to teach her parents -- she had to.  Then there was the two handmaidens who were the ones that were working for Pharaoh and who had strict orders to kill any boys that were born -- and they didn't. 

They were the ones that saved Moses too.  All through history -- we have the women -- when the time came -- they acted.  Then you see them not in that role.  In other words, they go back to being just the wives.  So that's what I showed -- right through history.  It was interesting.

JF:  Very interesting.  Yes.  Do you think that's still true? 

HW:  Yes.

JF:  About women's role in Judaism?

HW:  Yes. 

JF:  OK.

HW:  You don't have to be in the forefront -- you can do it quietly -- 

JF:  When did your husband pass away? 

HW:  July 1st, 1999.

JF:  1990?

HW:  1999. 

JF:  1999?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  OK.  How did you deal with that?

HW:  How I dealt with it?  Well, let's put it this way.  It was very, very fast.  It wasn't natural. 

JF:  He had not been ill long?

HW:  Very not natural.  We had Orthodox doctors, two Orthodox and two not.  We didn't take them because they were Orthodox or not -- it just worked out that way.  They said -- he had a back surgery in October, and he picked up a box.  We always used to go to the kids.  We'd used to always schlepp these boxes.  You know, they can't do without stuff.  He picked it up-- and didn't wait for a porter.  He got his back out of whack.  So, he had surgery on his back in October. 

 Fine, nothing was -- and then, in June, his back started hurting.  And, it -- he was not quite five weeks, he was gone.  He had cancer in his chest, in his liver, and in his back.  Came just that close.  They went back to when he had the surgery, and they checked every -- every blood test, every MRI, every Sonogram.  Nothing.  There was nothing here.  Nothing visible.  And --

JF:  That's incredibly fast.

HW:  Incredible.   

JF:  So, it really was a shock?

HW:  Yes, it was a big shock.  Perfectly healthy.  Very, very active.  People coming to him from all over the world.  All over the world.  He was a very, very good friend.  Really -- I mean really, all over.  I kept telling the children saying, "Listen, we're very fortunate.  He passed away before he lost his beard.  He looked healthy.  So that we have to be grateful for.  Because we can remember him." He had a wonderful philosophy of life.  The day before he passed away -- this is really interesting.  I was approached by the Baltimore realtors -- a foundation.  What's the name, Goldsetter, or something.  That was the third generation of those 

realtors.  They were the ones who broke the Jewish sections.  They would go in the '40s and '50s and say, "You have to move because if you don't move, the Blacks are going to take your house, and you won't get any money for it." And, people ran.  They ran, scared out of their wits.  So, there were three sections of Baltimore that they -- the third generation of these realtors -- approached me.  Called and asked -- in fact, they approached the Jewish Family Services, and the Jewish Family Services approached me. 

They want to do something for the Jewish community.  Would I come to them and ask for something.  So, I needed very, very badly a Bikur Cholim apartment where people could stay.  Could come here for Hopkins or Sinai for infertility or for cancer.  That they could stay while they were here.  So, I asked for a two-bedroom apartment, and they gave it to me.  I had a meeting scheduled in my home for -- it was the day before my husband had passed away.  They saw that I wouldn't be able to be here. 

Sinai Hospital gave me their board room to use.  I had 12 people came.  How I wrote the agenda, I don't know.  I really don't know.  I wrote everything out and gave it to someone to run the meeting.  I said," We're upstairs singing Psalms." I guess they wanted very much to do everything.  So, they did it there.  They worked out the whole thing.  So, the last thing that my husband heard was -- that it's there --he was the one that wanted me to go.  I didn't want to leave him.  But he insisted.  He said, "If you don't go, we won't get anything.  You'll have to go." So, I went, and I got it.

JF:  Wow.  That took a lot of guts.

HW:  Yes.  Then I saw that if I'm going to get myself into bed and die along with him, it won't show the children anything or the community anything.  So, you've got to keep going.

JF:  It takes a lot of courage.

HW:  There's no other way to do it.  It's either that way or nothing.  I want to show you something because I think it is worthwhile for you to see it.

JF:  My next to last question is -- we talked a bit about how some world events affected your life.  We talked about the rise of Nazism and war, World War II -- but we haven't really talked about any world events since then.  I was wondering -- if any of them have affected your life in any way?  National or international events -- the Vietnam War.  The Civil Rights movement? 

HW:  Well, the Civil Rights movement in Baltimore was -- we were living in Toronto then.  But, my parents -- they were very frightened because they had to call the civil - the National Guard in the streets here.  They had people that were -- that were very close friends.  That the stores were looted.  In fact, one -- I remember that the man went to his drugstore to get out his stuff that belonged to him because they were looting.  They arrested him instead of arresting the people that were looting.  Certainly, it was a difficult time for him.  In Canada, we didn't have that - at that time, we were in Canada. 

JF:  Were there any other --

HW:  I want you to know that during the moonwalk, you saw a picture of my son in Israel.  All his children have very, very different names.  I was - his wife was expecting during the moonwalk.  I was so afraid he was going to name that baby Livona for moon.  (laughter) Thank God he didn't.

JF:  He didn't.  (laughter) You have one -- is it a son in Israel?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  All the others live in this country?

HW:  Yes.  No -- well, now they do, yes. 

JF:  OK. 

HW:  My grandchildren are scattered. 

JF:  Here?

HW:  In Australia.

JF:  Australia?

HW:  In Johannesburg.  You know?  

Israel.  My daughter, for her 25th anniversary -- we all got together, and we bought her like -- a what do you call it?  From Penn Station -- a clock.  Those station clocks? One is Israeli time.  One is Australian time.  One is Israeli time.  One is London time.  One is Johannesburg time.  So, for the ones that are married.  (laughter)

JF:  So, wherever you go, you have a place to stay?

HW:  Yes.

JF:  OK.  OK.  Well, my final question is the same for everyone. 

 Like my first question.  Is there anything that I haven't asked that I should have asked? Is there anything else about your life that you would like to share?

HW:  Interesting question.  Nothing I can think of.  Probably think of it later (laughter), but I can't think of it now.

JF:  OK.

HW:  Well, it was and is a busy life.  It really is.

JF:  OK.  Well, thank you very much.

HW:  All right -- 

[END OF INTERVIEW]