The letter Ben Albert had written about his family . . . to his family . . .  it’s a reminder of the importance of recording the everyday activities and family history for future generations.

As you may know, while my father was not particularly religious, my paternal grandfather was a “Rav”, a respected religious authority in his community.  He died before my father was married. My father’s mother lived to be 109 years old, and I still remember that she did delicate hand-work without the help of glasses at an advanced age.

I remember that my mother called my father, “Alter”, which in Yiddish means “old one”.  My father called my mother, “Miriam Dvora”.  I was born in Odessa and we moved to the town of Tiraspol, where my father was supervisor in a flour mill.  My mother sold her own home-made chickens and eggs to supplement their income and we raised and sold chickens and eggs.  When the pogroms became so bad that everyone was afraid of their lives, my father was the first to leave in 1899 and went to England for two or three months before coming to this country, and settled in Chicago.  (To digress for a moment–) I still have a vivid memory as a young boy in Tiraspol, of one particular pogrom when everyone took refuge in our barn.  Because my father could not manage to place the heavy wooden beam across the doors as the Cossacks attacked, instead, he used his bare arms to hold the doors shut, and so we were saved.

My father lived at Halstead and Liberty Streets and found employment in a picture frame factory soon after he arrived.  Before long he had saved enough money to bring over my oldest brother “Ike” and his wife, “Sheindel”.  They lived on the West Side on Morgan Street.  Your father caome next; then a year or so later, Goldy and I came in 1901, on Christmas Eve.  We went to live first with Ike; then shortly after, I went to stay with my father.  About six months later, Lou, Frank, Anne and my mother came over.  Some time later we moved to Newberry Avenue.  Everyone contributed to the support of the family; as you know, Jake and I started working as painters; Ike was a skilled carpenter, Lou and Frank eventually were partners in furniture manufacturing.