“We all live in the traces of one another’s lives,” said Richard Rabinowitz.1
It’s a curious concept the idea of an area evolving over time, but those central themes and characteristics remain obvious to anyone who can decipher the evidence. The Lower East Side was the primal homeland for most Jews, and although the neighborhood has lost so much of that palpable culture, there is still an existing connection.
Getting of the train at Grand Street, I pass through what has become Chinatown; Chinese groceries, small stationary stores selling origami and beautiful floral notebooks, dumpling and noodle bars. This is definitely not a Jewish district anymore.
But as I step into the century-old tenements, I can feel the history. I see not only the physical artifacts, but also the preserved memories of a family that moved from their home to a complete unknown city and had to assimilate. It was evident that circumstances were tough, money was tight, and sacrifices had to be made, but what was also clear was the vehement attempt to keep their old culture alive. I can’t help but think of my grandparents moving to Mount Vernon from Israel; what if they had moved to New York City instead? This is the place so many came in a similar situation; religious persecution, looking for a place of acceptance, opportunity, and a fresh start. Wouldn’t they have moved into a tenement in this Jewish neighborhood, and lived in a similar fashion? My grandmother is a seamstress; is that sewing table in the corner where she would sit all day and do her work while her husband went out into the city to work? Is that shared cramped bedroom where my mother Ziporah and uncle Erwin would play and distract themselves between school and sleep?
As I depart, I walk along Orchard Street, the shops morphing into their previous layer; bohemian cafes and pricey boutiques fade into Russ & Daughter’s, Ezra Cohen Overstock Emporium, and Gertel’s Bakery. I think as if I were Esther in this new world…
The smell of fresh breads awakens memories from home, and it’s comforting to know authentic challah could be found right next-door. I miss being in Israel, but I’m not alone, and knowing that our culture from home is recreated in this new world assuages the wistfulness. Maybe I’ll pick up some baklava for Ziporah and Erwin as a treat when they get back from school.
I leave and walk over to Houston Street. Practicing the kosher diet was one thing we all feared would be difficult when moving to America, but the delis like Katz’s and are a haven. In the Lower East Side, they understand the predicament, respect the need, and support it. Jews from all over the city can come here and find multiple places to buy high quality kosher meats among other foods. Some of the restaurants are quite progressive; Schmulka Bernstein is a kosher Chinese restaurant. I feel welcome here.
A few blocks more and I find J.S Hosiery. I want to compare their supplies with the ones in my own store. The storeowner and I chat in Yiddish about their children and school, and going to the synagogue. Just speaking the language again makes me feel more like myself. I walk to Eckstein’s on the corner of Orchard and Grand, a store stocked with affordable clothing. Many of the local clothing stores understood that the circumstances of poor immigrants; there is no shame; everyone scrambles around looking for Levi jeans, Mary Janes, and stockings. You have to haggle for lower prices and be smart enough to play the back-and-forth game. The salespeople don’t reveal the cheapest price right off the bat, but the Jews are known for being skilled at the sport of bargaining. It’s a talent I’ll never loose.
Next stop; Guss’ Pickles. Founded by a fellow-Pole, Isidor Guss, this is one of eighty or so local pickle shops in what is, no surprise, known as the “pickle district.” Guss’ pickles are authentic, New York Style, and gaining notoriety. He is an archetype; an immigrant who came here for opportunity, and found lasting success. He is an inspiration to the community, and with business growing as it is, maybe he will be here some ninety years from now…
Guss’ Pickles opened in 1910, and closed about twelve years ago. It is one of the more well known Lower East Side Jewish businesses, but I personally find Gorelick’s more inspiring. Gorelick’s clothing store is one of those old-time places, like Louis Kaplan’s or Levine & Smith, that were run by master tailors that sold extremely well made articles, but also did beautiful repairs. That kind of craftsmanship is lost on today’s generations; why go invest in these small stores, why even bother getting a nightgown patched when you can just go to a big-name and get a three-pack for less?2
Bernard Gorelick has owned this store for seventy years, and today, it’s windows carry signs that read “Going Out Sale.” The steel shelves carry cardboard boxes packed with underwear. No computers, paper bills, a calculator. It feels exactly like my grandmother’s store in New Rochelle. She had mannequins that looked like fifties housewives with their hairdos and postures. The ceiling was adorned in the same style that I saw on the ceilings of those tenements, there were paper and plastic boxes of garments with index-card descriptions, a massive cash register with buttons that looked like those of a typewriter. All the elderly customers that came not only bought something, but also stopped and had a full conversation with Esther about life. Some of them speak in Yiddish, and all I understand is their laughter.
My walk through the Lower East Side has deepened my understanding of Esther and her struggles, but my understanding of Esther has simultaneously deepened my understanding of Jewish immigrants in the Lower East Side. Like Bernie Gorelick, she built up a life inspired by a culture, and thus created a business that is more sentimental and deeply connected than one would realize at first glance. However, peel back those layers, and it becomes a major key to the past.
Citations
- Rasenberger, Jim. “Searching for Charles.” The New York Times. The New York Times, 19 May 2001. Web. 12 Mar. 2014. <http://www.nytimes.com/2001/05/20/nyregion/searching-for-charles.html>.
- Berger, Joseph. “Crisscrossing Generations on the Lower East Side.” The World in a City: Traveling the Globe Through the Neighborhoods of the New New York. New York: Ballantine, 2007. N. pag. Print.
