Norman

Norman developed cancer and was hospitalized for treatment.

One day I went to see him. He was sitting up in the bed. His cheerful wife Ann was holding his hand. They deeply loved each other.

“Hi,” I said to him, “how are you doing?”

“Fine,” he said, “when you have a doctor like Dr. French you don’t have to worry.”

He was wrong. On the way out of the building I met his doctor.

“Morrie,” Frank said sadly, “Norman’s cancer, despite everything modern medicine can do to stop it, is spreading. Norman is dying.”

I choked up and said, “Frank, you did your best, have you told Norm?”

“I’m on my way to do so. It won’t be easy but I’m a doctor. I have to tell my patient the truth.” 

I couldn’t stop thinking how Norman would feel when he heard it. I couldn’t keep tears out of my eyes. I never saw Norman again. He died a few days after my visit. 

He was in his early fifties, a great loss to his family and friends. We will miss his infectious smile, his optimistic view of life.

Goodbye Norm, Rest in Peace

August 12, 2020

The Explosion

The Explosion

We were living at the “Project” at Avenel Street. I was in the appliance business with Ben Zelonka (Freeway Appliance).

The gas stove Betty was cooking on was a Gaffers and Sattler, a top of the line stove, with four-burners of different sizes and a large griddle in the middle. Betty enjoyed cooking on it. On Saturdays, I did the cooking of making waffles.

I was happily making one of our favorite dishes, bacon and eggs, when suddenly there was an explosion. 

The front first side of our porcelain-topped stove flew up. It happened so quickly I didn’t have time to be scared. Acrid smoke was in the room.

Then it was quiet. Momentarily stunned, I settled down and wondered what happened.

Soon everything became clear. The constantly lit gas pilot had gone out and was filling the room.

If I had the power I would outlaw all gas-operated appliances.

I tore out my built-in stove and put in an electric one.

Betty was unhappy at first, but soon, to her friends became an advocate.

No longer does she have to wash the scorched bottom of her pots. Cooking using electric burners is cleaner and faster than cooking with gas.

The only disadvantage is that the burners stay hot for a while.

I don’t remember the last time I read of an unexplained appliance explosion that killed people.

Our society has made some progress, I’m happy to say.

August 11, 2020

In Better Shape Than My Doc

I was never a good sleeper. When I get out of bed in the morning, I leave a mess behind me from my tossing and turning. I don’t nap during the day yet I function well.

At the completion of my last physical exam, my doctor at Kaiser said, “Morrie, I don’t know what you are doing but whatever it is keep doing it. You are much older than I am but in better shape.”

The last time I saw Dr. Hersch was when, to my surprise, he was a patient at Kaiser. Walking down the hall, I saw him in a bed.

“Dr. Hersch, what are you doing on the wrong side of the bed?”

He laughed and harangued me with a barrage of words. I don’t hear well and understood little of what he said. I just kept nodding as he was speaking. After about 10 minutes, I said, “Dr. Hersch, I’m leaving. I wish you well and hope that soon you will be back to your former job.”

He smiled and waved as I was leaving. 

I never saw him again and to this day don’t know what happened to him. He had a reputation of being one of the best doctors. 

Betty and I felt lucky being assigned to him. 

I will always remember his saying to me after that exam.

August 12, 2020

Betsy Doll

Eighty years of marriage does not seem very long.

Thoughts of you inspired a song.

I sang of our travels, our family, our friends.

Our love for each other until the very end.

Our joys, our quarrels, the traveling we did.

The castles we saw that we dreamed of as kids.

We saw wealth and poverty side by side, impossible to hide.

Like the New York tenement I lived in.

Vermin, rat ridden, it had Italian marble steps as you went inside.

My thoughts wander, from near to far.

“And the band played on.”

* * *

Perfectly at ease with my thoughts while lying on the living room couch, Danny comes over, nudges me.

“Let’s go.”

I have never said no.

With some difficulty, I get up and follow him.

He leads us to the elevator, which debarks us into the underground garage to his car, which we get into. 

Prior to leaving our apartment he puts a mandatory mask over my face and like everyone else on the street, I look like a bank robber.

He puts it into gear and we are on our way to Boyle Heights for a visit to his wife.

* * *

Reflections

It took me a while to accept Betty’s death, September 31, 2019, with her beguiling smile on her face. 

I had leaned close to her and said, “Betsy doll, I love you.”

She squeezed my hand and deeply exhaled. It was her last breath. I bent over close to her mouth and said, “Goodbye, Betsy my love,” and kissed her. Betsy doll opened her mouth into a distorted “O” and died.

As the rabbi had said 80 years ago – in death we parted.

Overwhelmed with tears, I left the room, went to bed, unable to sleep.

As my friend and longtime employee Ruby said, “Boss, that’s the way it is. That’s life.”

August 12, 2020

Mae West

Swiveling my desk chair, I have some odd thoughts.

Who would have thought that I would be here, in fairly good shape, at the age of 106, writing this? Certainly not me.

I think of the many times I escaped death ,which by sheer luck did not happen. 

I think of the poverty I was born into, the 14 years I lived in a lice, cockroach, rat infested tenement. The 80 years of my marriage to Betty.

The world traveling we did, the highly respected two children, Judith and Steve, we raised and their accomplishments.

My brain jumps from one thought to another. I can’t stop it. What a lucky guy I have been. I often sit and watch television and I see the tragedies that befall innocent people. It’s heart wrenching.

Who decides what happens to whom. I am an agnostic, but I well understand why people are religious and believe some God or supreme being watches them, directs their lives.

They believe that at death they will be judged. Who can say they are wrong? I can’t.

Is life but a game of chance? Do we humans have any control or is everything pre-ordained?

Morrie, stop thinking, it’s pointless. You will never find the answers, no one well.

Someone asked Mae West, a wise and well-known entertainer who had nine husbands and lived to the age of 94, “Would, if you could, live another life?”

 “Absolutely not,” she answered, “if you’ve lived your life as I have, one life is enough. Come up and see me sometime.” 

I feel as Mae West does. I’ve had a wonderful life. I may not be as lucky the second time around. It’s prudent to stop while you are ahead.

I wish all people will be or have been as lucky as I’ve been. The best of wishes, Morrie

August 5, 2020

“Sweet dreams”

I was on my way to my room at Garden Crest when some guy I didn’t know said to me, “Morrie, you are a national treasure.”

Very flattering. I thought about what he said and what he meant. I am not an egotist, but not blind to my accomplishments that are wide-ranging. A kid born in a vermin, rat infested tenement in East Harlem, New York, a multi-national neighborhood replete with warring gangs and crime.

I am no angel. I participated in activities with my gang that I’m not proud of. I sometimes shudder when I think of how close I was to becoming a murderer.

I was on the roof of my five-story tenement building when looking over the edge I saw a guy leaning against my building. I went to a half demolished chimney, pulled loose a brick, went to the edge of the rooftop and with two steady hands ,aimed it at him and dropped it. It landed with a crash and disintegrated.

Fate had stepped in. At the last second, the guy moved away. It is a certainty my good aim of the brick would have hit him on the head and killed him. I would have been a murderer. 

People on an adjoining roof saw me. Denying it would have been stupid and futile. It was a thought out and deliberate action. I would have been arrested, tried and found guilty.

Because of my age, I would not have been executed in the Sing Sing electric chair, but placed in some corrective institution not eligible for parole until the age of 21, a long time in the future.

Is it any wonder I have nightmares? I am one lucky “dude.”

At the age of 106, I am still functioning and have all my “marbles.”

I miss my late wife Betty very much. I have so many memories of the 80 years we spent together. 

We traveled the world, we saw man strange lands, but happy to come home holding hands.

The two children we had, Judy and Steve, that we are proud of. Every morning I wake up, look at her picture beside my bed.

She is smiling at me. I look at her often, holding back tears and often say, “Betty Doll, I love you.”

Thanks for the memories. I think of you often and always will as long as I live.

Good-bye my love.

“Sweet dreams”

August 5, 2020

Camera Show

I read in the L.A. Times that a photographic show was going to be held in Pasadena. Photo equipment dealers were coming from all over the country. They rented space on a table and displayed their wares, and were going to buy and sell.

Knowing Betty had no interest, I went to the show alone. I took the Contax camera I had bought with me. I arrived at the show early, and paid the admission price of three dollars.

The place was jammed with people, buyers, sellers, alive with activity. I immediately tried to sell the old model Contax camera I had brought. Optimistic at first, after about an hour trying to peddle the camera, I got discouraged. All the dealers who looked at it with seeming interest said, “Sorry, buddy, I pass,” and handed it back to me. Then, my good luck stepped in. On my way out I showed it to a dealer almost at the door.

He looked to a dealer almost at the door, who also looked at my camera carefully.

“It may be worth more, but the best I can offer you is $1,300 dollars. Suppressing my happy feeling, I said casually, “O.K. if you throw in that light meter.”

He picked it up and handed it to me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large roll of $100 bills, peeled off 13 of them and handed it to me. I gave him the camera and went out the door. Suddenly, curiosity overcame me.

I went back in and spoke to him. He was a camera store owner on a buying spree for a photo store in Milan, Italy. He had a roll of $100 bills that would “choke a horse.”

I left that photographic show a happy man. My wallet was stuffed with $100 bills.

My buying and selling cameras is far in the past. An avid photographer, I have lost interest.

* * *

I took hundreds of pictures of Betty and me as we traveled around the world. 

We loved to travel.

Seeing new countries, historic places, filled us with excitement. We traveled when traveling was inexpensive. Our first trip to Europe via S.A.S. airlines in a propeller plane took 26 hours, our route was over the South Pole. We flew right after the war in an old converted Douglas plane, in bucket seats that were strapped to the sides of the plane. 

The food we were served were sandwiches lathered with about an eighth of an inch of butter. The first and second were delicious; the third was nauseating.

When we reached our destination, Copenhagen, our stomachs were aching. It took a few days and many trips to the bathroom for our systems to settle down.

Betty and I never forgot our first trip to Europe. 

August 12, 2020

Echo Park Lake

Danny and I often take a long walk. 

He drives to Echo Park Lake and parks his car. We walk to an empty bench seat situated on the rim of the lake.

Located about four miles west of the city, it is a little known hidden gem. In the center of the lake is a fountain that shoots two streams of water to a height of about 30 feet. 

We watch the ducks drift silently, their webbed feet paddling slowly. Rented boats shaped like swans give a feeling of serenity to me.

* * *

Aimee

At the north end of the lake is the round temple of Aimee Semple McPherson, little known now, but when I visited it (called “The Church of Latter Day Saints”) she was a pastor. 

For me, it was an unforgettable experience.

The church was packed with her followers. Dressed in a flowing white gown, when she held her arms out, she looked like an angel (that was her intention).

In a persuasive and powerful voice, she gave a sermon, finishing it with a request for money.

“Give to the Lord, you will be blessed.”

She jumped off the stage holding her collection box into the aisle, extending her arm to anyone she could reach. One of those people was me.

“Sir, please give to the Lord.” Without a word, I reached into my pocket and dropped the change I had into the collection box.

“Thank you, sir, you will be blessed, Praise the Lord.” She went down the aisle collecting donations.

On the stage appeared about 10 people, all dressed in white flowing gowns. They were enthusiastically clapping their hands and chanting, “Praise the Lord.”

Soon, everyone in the audience was clapping, including me (When in Rome…). 

The noise was deafening. The white angels on the stage were screaming. They had tambourines in their hands that they were hitting wildly. Soon, all the audience was applauding. Me too. 

Why not?

I only visited the temple once.

Danny and I see it almost every day. The temple now has a bible school. Often driving by, I see students holding books and bibles pouring out of the building. …

One day, Aimee did not show up at the church. A frantic group of people tried to find her, but didn’t. Weeks went by; many of her followers gave up the search.

Then, suddenly she appeared, to the relief of relatives and followers.

“Where were you? Many of us were worried sick.”

“I was with the angels,” she said and told a strange story.

While bathing one day, angels flew into her house and picked her up by the elbows and took her to heaven for a short while and then brought her back to Earth where she was found floating on the water. After a short recuperative rest, she resigned her position at the church.

Reporters checking out her story found it not to be the truth. The facts are that all the time the church was looking for her, she was shacking-up with her lover in a Hollywood motel.

She was a feature story in the newspapers for quite a while, until the public lost interest.

I got married, moved to San Francisco, became so busy I didn’t have time to follow her story. With a war looming, she was no longer front page news. Foursquare Church is still operating.

August 5, 2020

Potpourri

I opened my eyes this morning, looked at my bedside clock and jumped out of bed, got dressed and followed the smell coming out of the kitchen.

Danny was frying eggs.

“Can you scramble my eggs this morning?”

“Too late,” he said, “tomorrow.”

I ate at the table facing the TV set. I turned on CNN to get the news. 

Our president was speaking.

Finally, he got his head out of the sand and recognized the danger the world is facing by infection by the dangerous highly infectious coronavirus.

I lived through the 1918 influenza epidemic, my older brother did not. My mother expected to also lose me. I had a temperature of 104 degrees but survived.

Every news broadcast, like a baseball score, shows how many people were infected and how many people died. Sad, sad, sad.

***

Living a long span of years, I made many friends, some remained close, some faded away with the years.

A couple we met at a leftist political meeting (Jane and Frank) I often think about. Now long gone from our lives but not from my thoughts.

Janie was a model, a statuesque blonde “stunner.” She showed up at our apartment at Avenel very distraught.

“Frank is a sex fiend,” she said. “I can never satisfy him. Morrie, please talk to him, he respects you.”

“Janie, I can’t do that,” I said. “If he is harassing you, go to the police.” 

“I’ve been to the police and they said that unless Frank physically harms me, there is nothing they can do.”

Janie, after being consoled by Betty, hugged us, picked up her purse and left, still crying.

We moved to San Francisco so I could take the position as manager at a store opened up by Sun Vacuum Stores. We never saw Janie or Frank again.

Two wonderful people. I can only hope they worked out their problems amicably.

***

A mind is a remarkable instrument. I had just finished a delicious dish of diced potatoes and onions that Chorito, a most innovative cook, had served me for lunch.

Suddenly a fly landed on my plate. I shooed him away.

One fly can cause a lot of trouble and strangely in one case it saved me from having my right toe amputated.

A fly itself is not repulsive, but the worm-like larvae of the fly is … ugh.

Flies, cockroaches, rats and lice. I lived with these in the New York tenements until the age of 14.

(July 29, 2020)

Travel Memories

I was heading for the Garden Crest dining room when a guy I didn’t know handed me a note and walked away, soon lost in a crowd of people.

I stopped and opened the folded note.

It read, “Morrie, you have lived three lives.”

I thought about what the note said.

Obviously the writer of the note knew me. He was right. I did live three lives.

I lived in Harlem, N.Y., until the age of 14. Then I moved to the Bronx with new surroundings, new friends.

My next move was to Brooklyn, where I lived for about a year and then to Los Angeles, Calif., where I have been since.

Since the age of 14, when I decided to see what Canada looked like, my early life was filled with movement.

My curiosity was insatiable. I started traveling with a $10 bill in my wallet, and as a backup, a $20 bill in my shoe. I traveled during the worst of our Depression years, 1929 to 1934.

***

Betsy Doll

The moment I saw you, I instantly new, for me there would be no one else but you.

Though we met by chance at a wedding dance,

It was the start of our romance.

Then one day you changed my life, 

My girl became my wife.

We traveled the world. We saw many strange lands, but always happy to come home holding hands.

We raised a family of whom we are proud,

just the two of us became a crowd.

I see your face before me, your crooked smile,

Your twinkling eyes.

Eighty years we spent together, good times I will never forget.

But nothing lasts forever, what will be will be,

Posterity will know our story,

The great love between you and me.

So, Betty Doll, I bid you adieu 

And to the finest person I ever knew.

I love you,

Morrie

(July 22, 2020)