MY FIFTY YEARS IN THE RETAIL DAIRY BUSINESS

An Autobiography by

Jack Aufrichtig

I was born in a small town in Poland. The name of the town was Glogow. It had a population of 80 Jewish families. The year I was born was 1914, a few months before World War I broke out. Before the war, the whole area called "Galicia" was part of Austria. After the war, Poland annexed it and it was called "Mala Polska" – Small Poland.  

I was the youngest of a family of four. I have three older sisters. A few months after the war broke out, my father, "of blessed memory", was inducted into the army. When the Russian Cossacks came to our town, for some reason unknown, they killed a whole family. We had to flee. My mother "of blessed memory" was not the type to sit and wait. We left the small town and traveled to Czechoslovakia, to a city called Behman. I was too small to remember anything from the three years that we lived in Behman. I can only write what my mother related to me in later years. For 14 months my mother didn't hear from my father. She didn't even know whether he was alive. Finally, she left us children by a neighbour and made the trip back home. After a small search, she found him in a different town. He was stationed at the main train station, watching he incoming and the outgoing trains. Now that she had found my father, she lost no time and took the train back to Behman. She found us all in good health. We lost no time and started to pack for the journey home. I did say we, because by now, my oldest sister Irene was eight years old and helped my mother pack.

Coming back home there was a problem of an apartment. A lot of houses were destroyed. We decided to go to a city called Lancut, where my maternal grandparents lived. This was only two hours' ride from Glogow, with horse and buggy. Lancut was a much larger city. It had a population of 600 Jewish families. It was a beautiful city. Or maybe because I spent my early youth there it seemed to be beautiful. The city was situated on a mountaintop. It had two market places. A market place is a big area where people come to shop. The center is void, but all around it there are stores. These two market places occupied half of the city. In this city there was also a shortage of apartments, but we managed to find one room with a separate entrance in the rabbi's house.  

We lived there for a few months. After this we moved into a tinsmith. He had one spare room with a separate entrance. This man was so poor that he could not fix his own roof. It continuously rained into our room. At this point my youngest sister, Sylvia, got sick. She got an inflammation in the hip. My mother took her to the city doctor. He said we have to take her to a big city, where they had specialists and hospitals.

Meanwhile, my father saw that there was no future for Jewish families in Poland. Before 1923, there was no quota. All you needed to come to America was money to pay for the trip. My father had an older brother in America. He didn't hesitate too long. He wrote to his brother, Shmuel, asking him to send a ticket for the ship. In a few weeks, he received the ticket. The reader can understand the scene of the parting. A young husband leaving a family and starting out on a journey unknown. But those years, there was no alternative.

After my father left, my mother took my sister, Sylvia, to a large city called Krakow. This was the most beautiful city in Poland. My mother's two brothers and her sister lived there. My mother took my sister to a few doctors. The decision of most was to operate. She decided to go through with the operation. Considering that it was done so many years ago, it was very successful. Later on, in America when my sister went to school she had to be examined physically. The doctors that examined her could not get over the beautiful surgery that was performed years previously.

It's phenomenal, that since the age of four I remember everything of my past in minute detail.  Now to return to our moving around. My mother's oldest sister was very wealthy. She owned a building, which was once a courthouse. It contained about 15 rooms. Now the whole building was abandoned. She allowed us to occupy one room. Whether we paid rent or not, I cannot recall. We lived there for about nine months. These nine months were the most dramatic time in our youth. Just imagine – four small children – ages four to nine – living in an abandoned house. There were other problems. My mother had to go out and make a living for the family. At first, she bought some whiskey, and went to the barracks where the soldiers were stationed. She sold it to them and made a nice little profit. This was strictly forbidden by the government. The second time around, she was caught and locked up in a room without grating on the windows. My mother was not "two for a penny". She knocked out one of the windows and escaped.

Her next project was as follows: Every morning she took 30 packs of cigarettes. She put 15 on each side under her dress, on top of that she put on a coat. With this load she took the 7 o'clock morning train to a certain city. Over there she unloaded the "goods" for a nice profit. In the evening, around 10 o'clock my mother came back. She gave a few knocks on the door. My oldest sister, Irene, who was now around nine or 10, went with a lit candle in her hand to open the door. Dear readers, can you imagine a ten-year-old child going past 15 rooms just with a lit candle? I must say that she was very brave and mature. In fact, during the day she cooked for us younger children. Selling tobacco was also illegal. But for a woman with children, there was no way those days to make a living legally. We would have actually have had to starve to death.  

My mother was a very strong woman. But those nine months took its toll. Traveling back and forth daily, and not eating properly she developed a gall bladder condition. After that we moved to a room which was owned by the town blacksmith. He had a room over the shop. There were steps in the back yard leading to the room. We lived there for about a year. After the year, we decided to make the big move. We decided to move in with my maternal grandparents, who lived in the same city. I was then about six or seven years old.

Here starts the most wonderful years that a child can dream of. Life for a child in a small town is so beautiful beyond description. My grandparent lived not in the city proper, but down the hill, about 10 minutes walk to the main market place. Why did we move in now and not before? Because by now my father in America had established himself in a business and was able to send some money to us every month. This money we shared with my grandparents, and also my mother's younger sister who was bedridden with crippling arthritis. Her husband did not make a living.

The house my grandparents owned was made out of wood, standing on a foundation of earth. It consisted of two rooms and an entrance room. The entrance room was more like a storage room. Around December they bought three geese. They put them in the entrance room in a cage. They were fed for about two months, then kosher slaughtered. The reason for this whole procedure with the geese was to get the fat which was used for the holiday of Passover.

The rendering of the fat was a classical epic by itself. It was usually done on a Saturday night. Imagine the scene. Outside bitter cold, snow two feet high. The windows covered with icicles. Inside it was nice and warm from the iron belly stove, which swallowed the wood as fast as we put it in. We children, sitting around the stove, while my grandmother worked on the fat. From every piece of fat, after the fat went out, there was left a crunchy piece which was called greiven. Each child made a grab for that greiven. The taste was heavenly. The whole procedure took around two hours.

As I said, the house consisted of two rooms. After the entrance room was the kitchen. In this room was a large square earthenware stove for cooking and keeping the place warm. Above the stove was a deep hollow stove for baking. My grandmother baked bread once a week. Everything was eaten up down to the last crumb. There was no such thing as throwing out bread. This room was also the sleeping quarters for us four children and my mother. There was one bed where my mother slept. The rest were folding cots which were put up at night, and folded together in the morning. The light was a kerosene lamp, hanging down from the ceiling. The second room was the bedroom for my grandparents. It consisted of two beds and a large table and chairs in the center of the room. There were three windows. Near each window were beautiful flowers in flowerpots. Under the table was a very large straw basket which housed potatoes for the whole winter. I forgot to mention that since there was no refrigeration, the fat that was derived from the geese was hung up in a sack outside the kitchen window. There was no problem of spoilage because the sub-zero weather lasted until the holiday of Passover. Going back to the house – the grandparents' bedroom was also used for a study room for my grandfather.

Outside the house, was a large square garden of about 40 x 40 yards. There was one apple tree, one plum tree, and one pear tree. The center was all tall grass. The grass was so tall that when children played hide and go seek, you could hide in the grass without being noticed. There was a gentile farmer on the nearby farm. Twice a year he cut our grass which he took for himself and for that he gave us potatoes. On one side of the house there was room for planting scallions, radishes, and other kinds of vegetables. Alongside of this we planted two long lines of lima beans.

The planting of lima beans is as follows: You dig up the earth – every four inches you put in a few limas. After a few weeks leaves come out. When they are about eight inches high you stick in the poles very close to the leaves. The poles are about three yards long. The leaves grow around the poles. The limas were planted in two lines. In the middle there was a pathway of about 15 inches. When it was very hot, we used to sit in the pathway shielded by the tall lima leaves. It was like the Garden of Eden. The lima beans were taken off towards the end of the summer. All winter long we ate chicken soup with lima beans every Friday night. When I think of the beautiful five years that I spent there, my eyes fill up with tears.

In winter, one half of the day, I had to go to the Polish school. This was compulsory. Since the day was very short, we had to go to Cheder at night. The Cheder, where we were taught all the religious teaching, was in the Rebbe's home. It consisted of how to read the Siddur, Chumash, which is the Bible; and Prophets. This was for children from the ages of five to seven. My middle sister May was the one who took me to Cheder around 5 o'clock and called for me around 8 o'clock. The winters were bitter cold. For us children i was a delight. Dressed in heavy underwear, a shirt, a jacket, a sweater, a coat, a heavy scarf we didn't fear the weather. We rolled in the snow, played with snowballs, made snowmen — it was a delight. On our days off we took our little sleds attached them to our neighbor's big sled, which was drawn by a horse, and our neighbor took us for an hour's ride. One can't feel the pleasure of this ride unless one had witnessed it himself. My middle sister and I used to go and bring in the water. The well was up on the hill. There was a pump. In winter there was a big problem. The water that spilled out from the pump formed an icy little mountain around it. To get up to the pump, you took your life in your hands. To this day I'll never know how we did it. But, we did. I guess when you are young you can do most anything. We pumped the water into two large metal containers. Then we put them on the sled. On the way home, I would hold on to the container while my sister would pull the sled.

The landscape was majestically beautiful. As far as the eye could see was all glittering white. Icicles hanging down the trees like shiny pearls. Horse-drawn sleds with bells ringing. The whole panorama looked like it came out of a fairy tale. We kids really lived it up. Behind the Synagogue we made a sliding pathway. We gave a little run and then we slid about 20 feet. What this did to our shoes is another story.

Right alter the holiday of Passover, we looked forward to the coming of the summer, By the way, every Passover I got a new suit. This was not bought in a store. My mother took me to a tailor. He took my measurements, and told us to come back in four weeks. When it was three-quarters done I tried it on. Two weeks later the suit was done. You can't imagine my pride when I walked out in my new suit on the first day of Passover. The majority of children were poor, and had to wear hand-me-downs.

As the summer approached everything blossomed, including us children. Since we did not live in the city proper, everything was even more beautiful. Flowers were all around us. The aroma of lilacs and roses was so potent that in the evening, if you sat outside the house, it literally put you to sleep. Oh how heavenly were those walks in the fields with my friends. We were always singing. During these walks we snacked on some wheat stalks and ate the seeds. We picked blossoming poppy-seed stalks, and ate the seeds.

I especially, had no worries, because my father sent us money every month. I must stray away a little from my modesty to say that most of the goodies I had. I shared with my friends who were less fortunate than I.

The summers were great –  jumping and running like birds that were just let out from a cage. It was nothing for us kids to climb up a tree 20 feet high. We even jumped off a tree that high. Nothing happened because the ground was either very soft earth or grass.

Towards the end of the summer we took off the lima beans. The poles we put in the small attic, the leaves we used for the cover of the hut that we had made for the holiday of Succoth. The limas, as I said before, we had all winter on Friday nights –  soup and limas.

Every Saturday, after the meal, my grandfather lay down for a nap. When h. got up, he reviewed with me all that I had learned in Cheder that week. At first I admired my grandparents. Later I felt a deep emotional love towards them, especially towards my grandmother. Where do you get such a woman today? She was the real Ashes Chayil. In the winter mornings, she used to get up a half hour earlier than my grandfather to shovel the snow outside the door, so my grandfather could go to Shul. To describe her is to describe an angel She was a short little woman –  a nice small round face, with a kerchief tied under her chin. At the age of 50 she did not have a single tooth left in her mouth, She worked out her gums to be as sharp as teeth. Never a loud word. When I was mischievous, she used to say to me. "You should only go to America. At the same token, my grandfather honored her like a precious Jewel. Her name was Hinda. If he wanted something, he would say. "Hindale, be so kind and give me this or that." Life was very serene.

When it was time for us to part with them the tears that were shed could fill a well. Like all good things, this was a happy and sorrowful time. We were happy we were going to our father in America, but very sorry to leave our grandparents, whom we knew we would never see again. The parting was very dramatic. I was then already 13 years of age. Later, in America, there were many times when I reminded myself of the parting. I cried like a baby.

THE VOYAGE TO AMERICA

In all my life I have never seen a more dramatic scene than my mother saying goodbye to her mother. My mother knew full well that she would not see her ever again. Can you imagine the crying that went on? We children were crying bitterly. But, there was no alternative. A wife has to go where her husband is. We put all our luggage on the cart. We all got on.

My grandfather escorted us until the city of Krakow where he had two sons and a daughter. In Krakow we spent two days. Finally, we said goodbye to my grandfather, and uncles, and aunt and started out towards Warsaw. Warsaw was the largest city In Poland. It had a population of 250,000 Jewish families. The reason we went to Warsaw, is because we had to get our visas, in the American embassy there.

The trip from Krakow to Warsaw took six hours. Entering the city limits of Warsaw the thing that impressed me most were the big street lights. We had no such thing in our city. Getting off the train we got into a horse and buggy taxi, which took us to our designated hotel. The next morning we went to the American Consulate to get our visa. This was a tall building with a huge backyard. In the yard were gathered a few hundred people. You waited until your name was called. Every 15 minutes a man came out and called out a name. We stood there the whole day, but our name was not called. The next morning when the man came out, my mother went over to him and slipped him a few dollars. Sure enough, the next name that was called was ours. We went up to the Counsel. He asked each child a different question. We answered the questions proudly, and finally got the visa.

After two weeks in Warsaw we left for Danzig, which was on the Polish border. From Danzig we went to a city called Weherova. Over there they gave us the business. First, we had to take a shower. The showers were out of doors. It is a miracle that no one got pneumonia. They also took our clothing and they put it through a certain steaming. From the steaming the clothes got a horrible odor. The odor was unbearable, but we had to wear the clothes.

Finally, they put us on a small boat. I cannot recollect what body of water we sailed through. This boat was a horror. The food was horrible. The sanitary conditions were not the best. After three days we landed in London.

From London we took a train which took us to Southampton, the port city of England. The same day we boarded the large ship. The name of the ship was "Majestic" of the White Star Line. This was a beautiful modern steamer with all modern facilities. There was first class, second class, tourist class and third class. We were in tourist class. We kids were able to go up to the first class and browse around.

The trip, which took five and a half days, was one long nightmare. It was in the month of December. The sea was at its roughest, every one of us got sick. The worst one hit was my mother. Since she had a gall bladder condition she could not eat or drink. The minute she took something in her mouth, she threw it right up. From weakness, she kept on fainting. She kept on saying that she does not want to be buried in the sea. The trip usually took five days, but because of the stormy days, it took an extra half day.

Finally, on December 7, 1926 we saw "the Statue of Liberty". It was a good feeling. A feeling of freedom. We arrived on a Tuesday. They did not let us off until the next day. Tuesday evening, a doctor came aboard and examined everyone's eyes. Later I found out that they were looking for the disease called trachoma, which was very prevalent in those days. We passed with flying colors.

The next morning we went on deck, and searched with our eyes for our father who was standing on the dock among many people awaiting their relatives. My two younger sisters and I did not recognize him, but my older sister and my mother spotted him. The spontaneous shout was, "There he is!" We got off the ship. My father embraced us and kissed us. He also cried a little. Of course those tears were from joy. After close to six years, the family was finally united.

In those years, so many immigrants came from all over the world that there was a shortage of apartments. My father managed to get an apartment on the fourth floor. It was a walk-up with the bathroom in the hall. From the pier which was on 14th Street and 12th Avenue, we took a cab to our apartment which was located on 7th Street near Avenue C. The snow was so high that the 20 minute trip took us an hour.

At last we were in America – the country of freedom. We Jews, who lived in a country where we continually heard the phrase, "Parshivl Zid". which means Dirty Jew, could really appreciate this beautiful country called the United States. We could proudly proclaim "G-d Bless America".

Life, those years, was very hard, but at the same time, very beautiful. There was law and order. Not like today, when a six year old can say to a police officer, "Take your dirty hands off  me. In those years, everyone respected and feared the police. This was the key to law and order. Girls came home at any hour of the night without the fear of being attacked. In the very hot days, people slept in the park all night.

Two days after our arrival, my father registered me in the Yeshiva Rabeinu Sholomo Kluger which was then located on Houston Street on the Lower East. Except for the fact that I was a skinny kid and had problems with my nervous stomach, my school days were very happy. Our school was located opposite the Pitt Street Park. At recess time, we kids went to the park and played ball. This school had a class called the "C" Class. This class was for the foreign children. They kept me in that class for two years.

Meanwhile. I helped my father in the store every day after school. After two years, they put me in the fifth grade. And in one year's time I graduated. After this school. I went to Seward Park High School. I was very good in Math, and my mother wanted me to become an accountant. After a year and a half I quit school for two reasons. First, the business was already in my blood. Second. I was already 16 and was ashamed to be in a class with 13-year-old students.

Coming into business full-time opened up a new world for me. In the first place, I was able to relieve my father for a few hours a day. I was already fully experienced in the business. Now, when I look back. I say to myself, how was it possible to put in so much work…? But I guess when you are young you can do most anything.

When I was seventeen I had full control of the business. The routine was as follows: You opened the store at 5:30 in the morning. Outside the store there were four cans of milk. Each can contained 40 quarts. Together with the can the weight was about 150 pounds. Near the milk, there were eight big chunks of ice which the milkman left. The cans of milk were not carried in, but rolled into the store. The cans of milk had to be put in an icebox, by lifting them about 20 inches off the floor. Each can of milk had two ears. Each of two people grabbed an ear to put the milk in the ice box. Although, as I said, I was a very skinny kid. I found a way to put those cans in by myself. I got a hold on both ears and with my knee — ZOOM — and the can was in the box. Next I took three chunks of ice and chopped them up. I put the ice between the cans to keep them cold all day. Next, I took the remaining five chunks of ice and put them on top of the big ice box, which contained the butter, cheese, and all other perishable dairy products.

By six o'clock in the morning I already had a line of customers. All of this I did myself, until my father came down around 8 o'clock. Twice a week we also got in a 40-quart can of sour cream. The sour cream came in very thick. In order to make it edible we used a gadget which was made of a long metal stick on the end of which was a circular metal piece with holes. With this we mixed the cream for about five minutes and it became loose. We used a quart measure and a half-quart measure which were also metal attached to a long metal stick. For the sour cream we used only an eight-ounce measure. When a customer wanted sour cream. He used the word "measure" by itself, saying "Give me a measure or half-measure of sour cream".

I had a natural born talent for the dairy business. I loved my business and enjoyed it. I was also born with a natural sense of humor. When you deal with people, your sense of humor comes in very handy. I can proudly say that in all my fifty years in business I got excited maybe three times. I never insulted a customer, but by the same token. I never bowed down to a customer. With me it was strictly business. I loved people and love to deal with people. One can be fantastically happy when one sees and feels the humor in every step of life.

There were many nany humorous instances in my years in business. One customer came in nearly every day with an eight-ounce glass and said. "Give me a half-measure of sour cream." No matter how much I gave her, she said: "This is by you a half-measure?"

The business hours in those years were from 5.30 in the morning until 11.30 at night. Before closing, you waked outside to see if your competition on the next block was also closing. Those were the days. The incidents were numerous. One customer came in at 8.00 in the evening, left her pitcher in the store and said: "I am going to the movies. I will be back at 11.15 for my milk. And we waited.

Summertime, the national drink was buttermilk. We sold it by the cup and charged three cents. We sold between 100 and 150 cups a day. In those years the summers were much hotter than today. Also there were no air-conditioners. In the middle of the store we had a revolving door which blew hot air most of the time.

We had two good prosperity years – '27 and '28. We made a lot of money. In the winter we stored away eggs and butter and in the summer we sold them for nearly double the price. Then came '29. the year of the big crash. Nearly half of the population was unemployed. People that played the stock market lost every cent. Compared to the times, we in business still made a living. Fifty per cent of the customers took depression welfare. They received a month ticket from the city. The ticket they gave to us. In the back of ticket were itemized the food products we were supposed to give to them. We took the ticket, added up the amount, and sent it away to the city. In a month's time we received the money.

The depression years lasted from '29 until around '36. Those were really the hardest years in the United States. Wherever you turned you saw a breadline. People were actually starving. A lot of people who lost all their money on Wall Street committed suicide. Somehow, this country has a blessing from G-d. From its worst condition it always bounces back.

I recall an incident from those horrible years. One of our steady customers came into the store and said to my father that he must lend her 50 dollars. She has to go to the hospital to give birth and she hasn't got a cent. My father took out $50.00 and gave it to her. After she gave birth, she didn't show herself in the store. After a month my father went to her apartment and asked her about the money. "I haven't any," she said. If you want you can take the baby." If you hear someone use the expression, "The Good Old Days" don't envy him. However, there was one good thing that outweighed all the hardships. That is, freedom from fear. Now that you cannot walk out in the street at night you can appreciate the Good Old Days. This freedom is the most precious thing to a human being.

Meanwhile, I got older and more experienced in business. By the time I was a little over twenty, I left my parent's business and started on my own. Before I start the next chapter I must write about one incident. All eggs were displayed in baskets on the counter. One customer came in every other day for a half-measure of sour cream. While my back was turned she stole one egg and put it in her bosom. This went on for quite a time until one day I noticed it. I did not have the nerve to tell her to put it back or pay for it. What I did was the following: The price of a half-measure of sour cream was four cents. Every time she came in I raised her a penny. Finally it got up to eight cents. Result - she stopped coming.

I was watching the business ads in the paper. One day I saw an ad: "Grocery for Sale - in a Business market" - at 148 Lee Avenue in the Williamsburg Section. I went down to look at the place and this is what I saw: The butcher did business, so did the chicken man, and the fruit and vegetable man, but the grocery — nothing. Not a customer for hours. I walked over to him and said: "Mister, how much do you want for the goodwill of the business?" "$800," he replied. As young as I was, I already had a feeling for business. I observed the place or a few hours. I noticed that if an item was packed on a high shelf the owner said that he didn't carry it. He was an elderly gentlemen. I noticed a few more things which gave me the clue that it was a good spot. I said to him, "O.K. Tomorrow I will be here with my lawyer." So it was.

When I took over, the business was doing $200 a week. I got to work with my youthful energy. We had about 20 sacks of loose cereal." They were all messed up. When I got through rolling them up they looked like a line of soldiers. In eight weeks time I was doing $600 a week. At 20% gross that was $120. Forty dollars for all expenses, left me $80 a week. Which, in those years, was a nice sum.

After five months, business increased a little more. At that time. my oldest sister's husband who was in the sweater business, was doing very poorly. So my mother suggested that he should come in with me. Anyway, the work was getting harder. He came in and we stayed together for one year. A living for two was a little hard to get out from this business, and anyway, grocery was not to my liking. I was the fourth generation of "butter and eggs business".

I have to explain how hard that business was. We sold everything loose. Loose cereals, honey, poppy seeds, flour, lekvar (prune jelly), and coffee. The coffee and poppy seeds we ground on the premises. The honey came in hard. By the time we got through, the day before holidays, when everybody used honey, we couldn't move our arms. The week of Passover, when customers came in, we wrote up their orders. That night, after 9 o'clock we made them up and delivered them. It wasn't an easy living. I left my brother-in-law and started to look for something else, preferably in the dairy line.

Every time I think back to my youth, tears come to my eyes. It's sad and beautiful. It's beautiful because it's "youth". It's sad because I say to myself. "My G-d, where did it all fly away so fast?"

Although I went through a lot of sickness and surgery, I thank Almighty G-d for giving me the privilege to walk around on my feet. This is a gift which only one that is sick can appreciate. I really did cry a lot when I wrote these sentences, because for the last five years I have had Lymphatic Leukemia, and G-d lets me live. So I really cry from happiness. Enough with the melodrama. Let's get back to business.

My second sister's husband had a large grocery which was also in a market. This market also had a fish man, chicken man, and a dairy department. Mr Reiss and his wife ran the dairy. My brother-in-law told me that Mr Reiss wanted to sell. The location was at 894 Dekalb Avenue. In those years this was a top location, predominantly white. I went to see Mr Reiss and asked him how much he would want for the business. He wanted $2,000 – not less. He did a beautiful business taking in close to $2,000 a week. Money – I did not have. My mother came to the rescue again. My parents did not have too much either, after marrying off three daughters. So my parents cashed in a $2,000 policy. We bought the place and my parents came in with me into the business.  

To non-religious people this may sound a little peculiar, especially these days when boys and girls live together. When they marry it's either/or. Either they'll make it or they won't. With religious couples it's different. On your wedding night when you say to your bride I am Nekudeshes to you, which means I am marrying you, and also means I am holy to you and you are holy to me, it's for keeps. The longer you are married the stronger the love. Of course, there are some divorces, but this is the exception. On an average, the couple's devotion to each other is without boundary.

Well, I didn't have to wait too long. One day, my mother met in the street one of my youngest sister's girl friends. Her name was Ida Schuss. "Guess who I met," she said to my mother, "Ann Weidenbaum". Among other things she said that Ann is so old fashioned she doesn't even wear make-up. When my mother came home and told me this story, I said to myself, "This is the kind of girl I would like as my wife." Actually, I knew Ann when I was 13 and she was 12. Her father had a vegetable stand opposite our store on Ave C. Also she was a friend to my youngest sister. Many times she came to our house on Saturdays and she and my sister used to sing together. They both have beautiful soprano voices. At that age I didn't even dream of girls. Two years Later, Ann and her family moved away, and I hadn't seen her since.

We went around for about six months and then we got married. We are now married 39 years, and my love and devotion and my warm feelings for her are even stronger than the first year of our marriage. She is the guiding light of my life. Hashem should only strengthen her and give her health all her years. I know she wishes the same for me, so we both pray to Hashem that he should keep us together all the years that are left for us on this world.

Nine months later my first son Joseph was born. Two years later my second son Abraham was born. Three years later my daughter, Hinda was born. I will not elaborate on my children. I only want to thank Hashem for helping us to bring them up to be Torah observant Jewish children.  

We went around for about six months and then we got married. We are now married 39 years, and my love and devotion and my warm feelings for her are even stronger than the first year of our marriage. She is the guiding light of my life. Hashem should only strengthen her and give her health all her years. I know she wishes the same for me, so we both pray to Hashem that he should keep us together all the years that are left for us on this world.

Nine months later my first son Joseph was born. Two years later my second son Abraham was born. Three years later my daughter, Hinda was born. I will not elaborate on my children. I only want to thank Hashem for helping us to bring them up to be Torah observant Jewish children.

Back to the business. My parents stayed with me for about two years. By now, my brother-in-law that I left on Lee Avenue wasn't doing so well.  My parents asked me if I would want him as a partner. Of course, I always complied with my parents' wishes. So he came into the business. My parents took a little dairy store on Division Avenue in the heart of Willamsburg.

My brother-in-law and I stayed together for about six years. Somehow, we couldn't get along too well, so we decided to part. Since I was in the business first I paid him $2,000 and we separated. Later he and my sister opened a store on the same block on Dekalb Avenue. There was no competition. Everybody on that business block made a nice living.

When my daughter was about two years old my precious wife came in with me to the business. Here starts a relationship of husband and wife being in business together for 27 years that has no precedent in the retail line. For 27 years in business together without raising our voices to each other. I doubt very much if there was another couple like us in the retail dairy business. We made a wonderful living. And even started to put away money each week in the savings bank. When you work together in harmony, Hashem sends a blessing to your hands. Also, the Talmud tells us that when you honor your wife Hashem sends a blessing to your home.

At the age of 11 our oldest son started to help us out after school hours. He was a pro, born for the business. Of course, we did not want our children to be in a retail business. No mutter how good the business, it was still 12 hours a day. My second son didn't care for it, but we made him do his share. At the age of 12 we left our daughter and my middle sister alone in the store for three days. From a raffle that I had bought we won a three day vacation in the Pioneer Country Club which was a very exclusive place. When we came home we found out that our daughter had cut her finger on our new electric cheese slicer. My sister told me that she did not panic. But she ran over to Dr Grolnick who was two blocks away from the store. Thank G-d that we gave our children the common sense that is required to get along in this world.

Returning to the time when my daughter was age six. We lived a block away from the store in that area we called Bedford-Stuyvesant. We already had intentions to move to the Crown Heights area. In those years Crown Heights was the elite part of Brooklyn. We wanted to start our daughter in a Yeshiva from which she would not nave to change when we moved. We registered her in the Crown Heights Yeshiva. From us to the Yeshiva was a half hour trip by bus. In those years they had no school buses, like they do now. You had to travel by city bus. We surely would not let a child of six travel alone. For six months my wife took her and brought her home. I must say that this child was exceptionally bright. So, at the tender age of six-and-a-half, I took her to the bus and I said to her, "Hinda, do you think you can go by yourself?" Without hesitation she answered "Yes". With a prayer in my heart that Hashem should keep her safe, I put her on the bus.

The traumatic period of waiting for her to come home at 4 o'clock was unbearable. One time she did not show up. It was already half past four. Only a mother can understand how my wife felt. She called the Yeshiva. They said that she left an hour ago. Finally at 5 o'clock she came home. "What happened?" we asked her. "I played in the school yard with other children." We gave her a good talking to and told her never to do that again.

Of course in those years, you weren't afraid to let a little girl go by herself. Mainly, G-d kept an eye on her. She was very much advanced. At one time the Yeshiva gave each child a book with ten raffles to sell. The price was $1.00 a raffle. What do you think she did? When she got on the bus she went over to the bus driver and asked him to by a raffle. He said that he has no dollar but he has a dime. She took it. She said that the Yeshiva can use a dime also.

After a few years we moved to Crown Heights. The years moved on. My children went from elementary Yeshiva to Yeshiva High School and from there to Yeshiva University.

We were in that store for 23 years. A lot of incidents happened during those years which require a book by itself. There was an elderly man whom we called "Crazy Alec". He used to run into the store, although full of customers, and start to sing out loud old-time funny Jewish songs. He had an expression, "If he is destined to die, he should not live to see it." After the songs he went into a dance which lasted about 10 minutes.

We had a mixed trade — half white and half black. Both were very beautiful and fine customers. In the years before we left the store, the trade started to change. The cheap element began to come in. Drunks and crooks started to come in. While we were still making a nice living, we hung on in the store. On our route daily from Crown Heights to Dekalb Avenue we passed Eastern Parkway. One day we noticed a "Store to Let" sign on the corner of Kingston Avenue and Eastern Parkway. This was a men's haberdashery store which was going out of business. One day riding past that corner, my wife said, "You know what, this looks like a good spot." There again, you see, if a good thing is destined for you, G-d Almighty gives you the thought in your mind. By now, it was getting impossible to continue on Dekalb Avenue.  

We decided to look into the store on Kingston Avenue. I found out the address of the owner of the building. He had an office in downtown Brooklyn, I went to see him. His name was Mr Wolf - a high class gentleman. He interviewed me and said, I have many applicants for this place. It seems to me that you are just the right party." Two days later I went downtown and signed a five-year lease. Here starts the most wonderful 17 years for us together in business. First I had to remodel the whole store. It wasn't easy. It's like making a prince from a pauper. On the wall of one side of the store I put on narrow shelves for a few grocery items like salmon, sardines, and canned fruits. That was all the groceries we handled. On the other side, I put in the main refrigerator box, which covered the whole wall. This box contained all sorts of cheeses, and jars of appetizing like herrings, lox, and pickles. Upon entering the store, to the left was the refrigerator for the containers of milk. To its left was a very modern two-door refrigerator for items like yogurt, buttermilk, sour cream, orange juice, and all kinds of orange drinks. In front of the canned goods wall I had an appetizing case with a big board on which to cut lox and other appetizing. We also had a terrific bakery department. People came from all over Brooklyn to buy our bread and cake. To the right of the dairy case we had a beautiful showcase for our cake. I had to re-do all the electrical wiring. I also made a whole new front. Our store was seen from three blocks away.  

Our reputation went very far. When anyone mentioned in any boro "Aufrichtig's" they knew right away who you were talking about. There is a reason for our building up a good name. In the first place, we handled top quality merchandise. We never gave a customer an argument. If a customer gave back something which wasn’t 100 per cent, we asked no questions but gave her full credit. But the main reason for our good reputation was our sense of humor. If a moody customer fell into my hands, either I told her a joke or made some funny remark. She had to go out laughing. Many of them remarked to me. "What are you doing here — you ought to be on the stage." My answer was, "I am on the stage. Here I always have my audience, while on the stage sometimes you play to an empty house."

The corner where we had our store was the most interesting corner in the world. Why? Because it was opposite the center of the world-renowned Chassidic movement – Lubavitch, 770 Eastern Parkway.

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