SIGRIST:

Good afternoon. This is Paul Sigrist for the National Park Service. Today is Friday, July 7th, 1995. I'm at the Ellis Island recording studio with Naomi Fader. Mrs. Fader came from Latvia in 1929. We figured out she was fourteen years old when she arrived in the U.S., and she was held here with here mother at Ellis Island for about two weeks. And her brother, also. Thank you for coming all the way down from the Bronx to Ellis Island. Mrs. Fader, can we begin by you giving me your birthdate, please?

FADER:

August 23rd, 1914.

SIGRIST:

And where in Latvia were you born?

FADER:

I wasn't there. (they laugh) I was, but I don't remember. In Dwinsk. Oh, yeah, I was born in Dwinsk. I didn't live in Riga then.

SIGRIST:

Can you spell that, please?

FADER:

Dwinsk?

SIGRIST:

Yes.

FADER:

D-W-I-N-S-K.

SIGRIST:

And that was consider Latvia in 1914?

FADER:

Yes. Yes, a city. Yes, one of our cities. Riga was the capital. My father went for America, so we moved to Riga.

SIGRIST:

That was a little bit later?

FADER:

1923.

SIGRIST:

Oh.

FADER:

No. Before that, because we lived in Riga for quite some time. I went to school there...

SIGRIST:

Tell me, did your mother or any family ever tell you anything about your birth? When you were born?

FADER:

No.

SIGRIST:

Did your mother ever have a story about...

FADER:

We didn't talk about it. We didn't tell children no, they didn't tell us. We had to learn it in school or from friends.

SIGRIST:

I didn't know if your mother ever talked about, you know, when she was pregnant with you or anything like that.

FADER:

No, it was quiet. You don't talk about those things.

SIGRIST:

Is your, you said you had a brother. He's younger or older than you?

FADER:

Oh, no. I had a brother and an older sister. We were all six years apart.

SIGRIST:

Is your brother younger than you?

FADER:

Older, older. I'm the baby.

SIGRIST:

Oh, they're all, you're the baby. Okay. All right. Well, let's start by talking about your parents. What was your father's name?

FADER:

Harry.

SIGRIST:

And what was his...

FADER:

Harry David Dorum. Dorum.

SIGRIST:

Dorum. D-O-R-U-M.

FADER:

U-M.

SIGRIST:

And Harry wasn't his name in Latvia, was it?

FADER:

Yes.

SIGRIST:

It was?

FADER:

I've got his citizen papers here.

SIGRIST:

But...

FADER:

His passport, too. I brought everything. (they laugh)

SIGRIST:

Well, good. We'll take a look at that after we're done with the interview. What did he do for a living?

FADER:

Well, in Europe he worked for the city. He did, they cleaned the chimneys in the public buildings, like the school and the city hall and, and then he had a private business on the same. And he had men working for him. He didn't do the actual work.

SIGRIST:

Can you describe for me how they did, how they cleaned these chimneys.

FADER:

They got on the roof, they had a broom, what I remember what. (she laughs) And they were dressed dirty, because soot, black chalk, whatever it was, no, what did they make it from? From the...

SIGRIST:

The soot.

FADER:

Soot, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Can you describe what kind of broom, what it looked like?

FADER:

Well, it was long rope. And the end of the rope was this broom. It was shaped like this. (she gestures) So...

SIGRIST:

You're making like a cup shape.

FADER:

Yeah, so it cleaned the chimney. The sides. Very dirty.

SIGRIST:

Was...

FADER:

And he had a lot of men working for him, and he was the head. And that, he starts getting pretty sad.

SIGRIST:

Is there, is there a story about your father that you like to tell about when you were a little girl? Maybe something you did with your father, or some story you like to tell?

FADER:

They were too busy to work, to play with the children. Not like today. For, that's for sure. And I was a baby, I was a princess. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

What's the, what's the earliest thing you remember?

FADER:

I remember him taking me to my grandfather's. He was a monument maker. He hammered those monuments.

SIGRIST:

You're grandfather was the monument maker?

FADER:

Yes. Oh, and he loved to take, he loved, he was an artist. He did beautiful work. And my father used to like to stand and watch him, so he took me there quite often. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

What was your father's personality like?

FADER:

He's a man worth knowing, and proud to be my daddy. Very, very fine.

SIGRIST:

What were some of the things that he treasured the most in life?

FADER:

His religion.

SIGRIST:

Talk about that a little bit.

FADER:

Well, you know, what, we have a cantor, what do they call it, conduct the services...

SIGRIST:

You were Jewish?

FADER:

Yes.

SIGRIST:

Yes.

FADER:

Oh, yes. And he did a good job of it. He was religious. So he conducted the services in the temple. And he was in every organization that, that would appreciate it.

SIGRIST:

Did, were there any ways that he practiced his religion at home?

FADER:

Oh, yes.

SIGRIST:

How?

FADER:

You pray every morning and every evening, and you do a lot of charity work.

SIGRIST:

What kinds of charity work could you do in Latvia at that time?

FADER:

Well, if a Jew, a Jewish person needed a, some official work, you know, in city hall or wherever, they all went to my father. He was the speaker.

SIGRIST:

I see. You said that he taught you prayers, or you said prayers?

FADER:

Oh, yes.

SIGRIST:

Did he teach them to you?

FADER:

Oh, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Is there a prayer that you remember that you can say for us on tape...

FADER:

Well...

SIGRIST:

...in the language that you learned it in?

FADER:

Whenever you eat you make a prayer.

SIGRIST:

And, and what language would you pray in?

FADER:

Hebrew.

SIGRIST:

And can you say a prayer for us in Hebrew?

FADER:

Yes. (she prays in Hebrew) Shabas [PH] is the sabbath. We bring in the sabbath Friday, right? We make a meal, big meal. Chicken, mostly. Chicken soup. (she laughs) Without chicken soup it's not a shabas. And the noodles and all kind of holiday things. And I still do it.

SIGRIST:

What did your father look like? Can you describe him in words?

FADER:

A holy man. Fine.

SIGRIST:

Describe his hair for me.

FADER:

Oh, he always cropped it short.

SIGRIST:

Short hair.

FADER:

Short. He didn't like men with long hair. There was no man with long hair then. Some of them had beards. And he had a beard when he left, but by the time he got to America, that's where the picture came. My mother cried, "He cut off his beard." (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

So when he came to America he had...

FADER:

They americanized him first thing...

SIGRIST:

They americanized him.

FADER:

...they bought him new clothes, and, and look at it. Does he look like our father? (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

For the sake of the tape I'm saying, I'm looking at a, his passport here...

FADER:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

...and he has eyeglasses and his...

FADER:

He came 1923.

SIGRIST:

It looks a little like his beard is starting to grow in a little bit there.

FADER:

Well, a van dyke, he had a...

SIGRIST:

Yeah, a little scruffy there.

FADER:

...knife. It's not nice to be all shaved.

SIGRIST:

What kind of clothes did your father wear in Latvia?

FADER:

Oh, suits. Suits. Well, after all he had an important job. He didn't do the cleaning of the chimneys. He was with the big shots. I don't know. He never took me. He was a fireman. Wherever there was good to do he was there.

SIGRIST:

What was your mother's name?

FADER:

Riva. R-I-V-A.

SIGRIST:

What was her maiden name?

FADER:

Plavin. P-L-A-V-I-N.

SIGRIST:

And what do you know about your mother's background? Her family background?

FADER:

(unintelligible) my grandfather's. I knew both of them. Not for very long because I, 1914 the war started, July. I was born in August. It wasn't the happy time.

SIGRIST:

Did your father have to serve...

FADER:

No.

SIGRIST:

...in World War One? No.

FADER:

No.

SIGRIST:

No, he didn't.

FADER:

I was the baby already, and I was fourteen, too.

SIGRIST:

Yeah. Tell me, you knew your mother's father. What did he do for a living?

FADER:

My mother's father made his monuments.

SIGRIST:

Was he the monument, oh, he was the monument maker.

FADER:

Oh, he made beautiful art pieces.

SIGRIST:

What, what were some of the responsibilities your mother had around the house?

FADER:

The princess, the queen. (she laughs) The man is the king, and the children are the princes, and...

SIGRIST:

Well, what were some of your mother's responsibilities?

FADER:

Cooking, washing, cleaning. Like every Jewish mother.

SIGRIST:

How did your mother wash clothes back then?

FADER:

Scrub. On a board. And we, my father was doing pretty well, because he had a nice job. And so we had a woman come in every to do the wash. We lived pretty good then. And right after that all the trouble started.

SIGRIST:

You mentioned that your mother also had to cook. What kinds of food...

FADER:

Jewish cooking. All...

SIGRIST:

Well, you already mentioned the chicken soup.

FADER:

Everything.

SIGRIST:

What kinds of other foods...

FADER:

Gefilte fish and chopped liver, stuffed cabbage. You name it.

SIGRIST:

How did your mother make gefilte fish?

FADER:

Oh, bought all kind of fish. I used to go with her to the fish market, and buy them fresh. And they killed them, as they buy them, weigh them and kill them. And then they would peel them and clean them. Chop it with the eggs and onions, whatever. And then they cook it for, till the daylights out of them. (they laugh) The longer you cook gefilte fish the better it tastes.

SIGRIST:

And then how do you store gefilte fish?

FADER:

Well, we lived in the, first we lived on the fifth floor in Riga. And we had no cooling facilities. We didn't have no refrigerators. We had bathrooms. All the latest equipment, but except we walked up the fifth floor. My mother never complained.

SIGRIST:

How old were you when you moved to Riga?

FADER:

To Riga? I was nine years old.

SIGRIST:

You were nine. What can you tell me about where you lived in, in Dwinsk...

FADER:

Dwinsk, yeah.

SIGRIST:

...before you moved to Riga? What kind of a house did you live in, or an apartment?

FADER:

First floor usually, or a second floor. My father used to buy a house, (she coughs) excuse me, fix it up and sell it. Buy another house, and that's the way. At one time he bought a big house. It had ten rooms, ten apartments, like. And after he finished he gave it to, he made a women's hospital out of it. A maternity hospital.

SIGRIST:

Why, why did he...

FADER:

And he donated it. Because he was very charitable.

SIGRIST:

Part of the charity work?

FADER:

Lots of times we didn't eat much, because we had to, he had to pay for all this that he was offering for charity.

SIGRIST:

What games did you play as a little girl?

FADER:

Every little girl, dolls. My dolls were the best dressed dolls in Riga. (she laughs) My sister was a dress maker. And as soon as she got off the machine, I was there. For all my friends. All my dolls. My dolls were the best dressed dolls in the city. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

Is there one doll that sticks out in your mind that you remember vividly?

FADER:

Well, we couldn't afford to buy dolls. So we used to buy a little head. Porcelain head. It had four holes, and it had a body, and that's how you made, designed their clothes. Fur coats and everything else. That we could find in the scraps my sister threw away.

SIGRIST:

What was your sister's name?

FADER:

Sonya.

SIGRIST:

Sonya. And then, then the brother was born after the sister, six years between...

FADER:

No, they did, my, one, the oldest brother whose name is Joseph, he...

SIGRIST:

He's the oldest?

FADER:

...he was the oldest. He was nine years older. We were all, no, six years older than my sister. And my sister was six years older than my younger brother. And I was the baby.

SIGRIST:

And what was your younger brother's name?

FADER:

Moshe.

SIGRIST:

Moshe.

FADER:

Morris.

SIGRIST:

Can you spell Moshe, please?

FADER:

M-O, in English?

SIGRIST:

Yeah.

FADER:

M-O-S-H-E.

SIGRIST:

Moshe.

FADER:

Moshe.

SIGRIST:

All right. So it's Joseph, Sonya, Moshe, and...

FADER:

My Jewish name was Nechama.

SIGRIST:

Can you spell that, please, for us on tape?

FADER:

N-E-C-H, because there's a "chah" in Latvia, A-M-A.

SIGRIST:

N-E-C-H-A-M-A. Nechama.

FADER:

Right. Is that the way it is on the passport? I don't remember.

SIGRIST:

Oh, it was actually N-A on the passport.

FADER:

Nachama.

SIGRIST:

Nachama. But you always spelled in Nechama, with an E?

FADER:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

Do you have any stories about growing up with your, your brothers and sisters?

FADER:

The normal thing, like, Mother was the queen and Father gave a look and we knew what he meant. We didn't say no to nothing.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember an instance where you perhaps angered your mother or father?

FADER:

The only time I angered them was when I was fighting with my brother. (she laughs) He was six years older than I, and he took me wherever he went. He had to take care of me. That's why I was tough.

SIGRIST:

(he laughs) Well, tell...

FADER:

I learned from all the boys.

SIGRIST:

Describe for me what you were like as a little girl.

FADER:

(she coughs) I was a tough one. Girls didn't want to play with me. I was too rough.

SIGRIST:

What kinds of things did you like to do as a, as a young girl? You said you liked to play dolls, but...

FADER:

I loved school.

SIGRIST:

Yeah. Did you go to school in, in Dwinsk before you went to Riga?

FADER:

Yes, but like a kindergarten. Really my education started in Riga.

SIGRIST:

Could your parents read and write?

FADER:

My father did a little. You see. My mother didn't. The old ladies didn't have no education. Only Hebrew. They could pray.

SIGRIST:

Tell me a little bit about, so you, you went to school in Riga for the most part.

FADER:

Public school, yes.

SIGRIST:

Public school. Why did the family move to Riga?

FADER:

Well, my father went to America in 1923. In the U.S. And we couldn't follow him. He had to be here five years, become a citizen, and then he called for the family.

SIGRIST:

Why did he go to the United States?

FADER:

Because it got a little rough.

SIGRIST:

How? Can you describe that for me?

FADER:

Well, like the Nazis. They were already picking.

SIGRIST:

But even in the early 1920's...

FADER:

Yes. Yeah, it was always, and it always will be.

SIGRIST:

Well, let me go back to Dwinsk for a little bit. What was the relationship between the Jewish population and the gentile population in Dwinsk?

FADER:

Well, we, we didn't have it, because everybody needed my father. They all came for favors to him. If they had to meet a politician, they first spoke to my father. He got in touch with him. You know, you need, any official papers you got to make, it has to be real McCoy, it has to be kosher. And my father made sure that everything went well. Everybody liked him.

SIGRIST:

Did he have any family in the United States?

FADER:

Here, yes. He had two sisters. One in Detroit, Michigan, and one in what, it was Virginia.

SIGRIST:

And when did they come to America?

FADER:

Oh, they came before him, because they sponsored him. You know, it was tough to come to America those days. We, why do you think people land up in the hospitals like Ellis Island? My friend's mother, Mrs. Rubin was, the mother was held up in Berlin. In Germany. She was there for about three years.

SIGRIST:

I should say for the sake of the tape that Mrs. Fader is an old, old friend of Selma Rubin...

FADER:

Right.

SIGRIST:

whom we interviewed a week ago. And she is interview EI-625. And I believe your families knew each other in Latvia.

FADER:

Of course. Her mother and my sister were friends. She was younger than (unintelligible) was the oldest. Her two brothers.

SIGRIST:

When your father came to America where did he go?

FADER:

He went to Detroit.

SIGRIST:

He went to Detroit...

FADER:

Detroit, Michigan.

SIGRIST:

...to his sister?

FADER:

She sent him the papers. And he says to her, "Oh, why come? How come you didn't write all those years?" He says, "What's there to write?"

SIGRIST:

Well, what did he do when he got to Detroit?

FADER:

Became a painter.

SIGRIST:

Oh, talk a little bit about that.

FADER:

Oh, he painted houses. You know. Not an artist...

SIGRIST:

Do you know where he lived in Detroit?

FADER:

Oh, I would remember the address.

SIGRIST:

Did he live with his sister?

FADER:

Oh, yes. Yes. Yes. She wouldn't let him live alone. Leave her brother live alone? Terrible.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember moving from Dwinsk to Riga?

FADER:

Yes. I was...

SIGRIST:

What do you remember about that experience?

FADER:

Oh, wait a minute. I was, I was in the third grade. Yes. When I left they made me a big party, and they brought me gifts. They all came to the train. I have all the gifts that they bought me. My Latish, Latish, that's the language in Riga...

SIGRIST:

Latish.

FADER:

Latish. Yes.

SIGRIST:

L-A-T-I-S-H. Latish?

FADER:

Yes. It's Latvia. L-A-T-V-I-A.

SIGRIST:

Right.

FADER:

So they made me a party. My, too bad I didn't bring it. My art teacher was my Latish teacher. We used to, had five languages. When I came here I spoke five languages.

SIGRIST:

And what languages were those?

FADER:

Latish, because it's Latvia. The school was Jewish, and we had to take Hebrew, because in every Jewish book you come across Hebrew words.

SIGRIST:

And by Jewish you mean Yiddish?

FADER:

Yiddish.

SIGRIST:

Yiddish.

FADER:

But also Hebrew.

SIGRIST:

Right.

FADER:

The one, the Hebrew that is speak in Eng, in Israel. And then we also had a lot of Germans because it was Germany at one time. It was Russia at one time. It floated around like a football. So we had to take all these languages. When I came to school here I was put into Seven A Five, Junior High School 40 in the Bronx. And I didn't know a word of English. I learned to count here. Every time you went for lunch, for dinner, for every place, one, two, three, and I was standing and copying. I knew how to count a little. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

When you moved to Riga, where did you move to? Can you describe the apartment for me?

FADER:

Yeah. Oh, yes. My sister moved before we did. My brother-in-law was looking for another job and it was...

SIGRIST:

So your sister was married then at that point?

FADER:

Yes.

SIGRIST:

Uh-huh.

FADER:

So was my brother. The only thing, ones were home was I and my younger brother.

SIGRIST:

And Moshe.

FADER:

Moshe. And that's the way you live. It's a family. You want to be near your dearest. So when my sister moved to Riga before we did, my father made sure he sold everything he had there, and went to Riga, got us an apartment and moved to there. So we'd be near the oldest daughter.

SIGRIST:

So did you father live with you in Riga prior to coming to the United States?

FADER:

He came home, back, he didn't like it the first year. He missed the family so badly that he came home. And he was smart. He bought a round trip ticket. (she laughs) After being home a year he couldn't pick up his, his old life. He couldn't get his job back. So he lived in Riga for a year. He said the ticket, before the ticket expired, the passport, scooted home to the family.

SIGRIST:

What do you remember about that year with your father around after he had been gone for, for a while? What, what sticks out in your mind?

FADER:

Oh, we were so happy to have him back. But he didn't like living in Europe no more. Once you taste America you don't like Europe no more. So we were, he went back. And we lived in the same building as my sister did.

SIGRIST:

How did your mother support the family, or who supported the family?

FADER:

My father. He went home, back to the United States, and he sent us, twenty-five dollars a month was a lot of money.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember how you received that money, how did you...

FADER:

The bank. Post office or the bank. That I don't remember so clear. I only know he sent it regularly. And we were the riches ones there. My mother bought a piano for the school as a gift before we left.

SIGRIST:

How was life different in Riga than it had been in Dwinsk?

FADER:

Oh, Dwinsk is a small town. Not too small. It had a couple floor buildings and a police department and everything, firemen. My father was a fireman for many, many years. Came here with thirteen medals. A whole Hershey box full. And they stole it. He cried. I never saw my father cry. They robbed us. The last day Passover, they were at my friend's house, Mrs. Rubin's house for the meal. I had a date already. They came in through the window and they robbed us. And they found medals.

SIGRIST:

And these were medals that your father had received from his fire fighting in Dwinsk?

FADER:

Oh, yeah. Yeah. Thirteen of them he had, he had in that cocoa box. Hershey cocoa box. And he treasured it. And he had it somewheres [sic] in the closet. God knows how they knew where to find it.

SIGRIST:

That's a terrible story. I mean, they must have...

FADER:

And my mother's jewelry they took. She had a long, gold chain with a watch on it, a fob. And they took that. My mother was heartbroken for that long chain. Gold, real gold. And, well...

SIGRIST:

Welcome to America.

FADER:

...no crime. Yeah. Welcome. No, not then. Then it was rare.

SIGRIST:

Yeah. But it's unfortunate that it happened to you.

FADER:

Well.

SIGRIST:

You said that you did most of your schooling in Riga. Tell me about going to school in Riga, what you remember.

FADER:

Oh, school was lovely. Two sisters were the principals. One assistant and one was principal and one was assistant principal. And the brother was our geometry teacher and algebra. Very educated family. The brother had a hunchback. And everybody used to say the hunchback people are very smart. All their knowledge is in their hunchback. (she laughs) but they were smart people. And you know what? They lived in school. They had an apartment built for them. Two sisters and a brother and a mother. Sisters were not married, the brother wasn't married. They lived with the mother.

SIGRIST:

What time did you go to school in the morning?

FADER:

Regular. Oh, I have a card also with my picture on it. They give you, when you go to school you get a pass, a card, like, where the identification was our picture. And I have, I just looked at it the other day. Yeah, I should have brought it, show it to you.

SIGRIST:

So you, when you say just regular, what do you mean? What time did you go to school?

FADER:

Oh, nine o'clock we started. We went home at three.

SIGRIST:

And did you eat lunch sometime?

FADER:

We brought lunch. What do you mean sometimes? (he laughs) How would we grow up?

SIGRIST:

Well, what did you bring for lunch? What would you...

FADER:

A sandwich. What can you bring?

SIGRIST:

Did your mother ever seek employment outside of doing...

FADER:

No, women didn't work. They had to be home, take care of the children.

SIGRIST:

So you lived pretty much off of your father's money coming in?

FADER:

Oh, yeah. He did well. Even when the trouble started, and my father was very kosher, you know. Observed the customs. And wouldn't there no ham or anything. So he used to trade with the other big shots there, that had on that cart. And they'd sell us flour and potatoes. And he gave them for the meat and everything. Just a swap of like stamps, it was I think.

SIGRIST:

In, in Riga, was the relationship between the Jews and the gentiles different that it had been in Dwinsk, or...

FADER:

Well, we didn't feel it then. Not until Hitler started the troubles.

SIGRIST:

Later in the '20's.

FADER:

Yes. In '23, in '29 we came. My sister came in '33, because we had to sponsor her. You know, a citizen had to call for her daughter or child, or whatever it was. And that's the way. My, my brother-in-law got a job in Riga, and we moved to Riga. We lived in the same building. We were on the fifth floor. She was on the sixth. Walk up. No complaint. Not even from my mother. And me definitely not. I used to slide down the banner. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

When you, when you were living in Riga, what did you know about America before you came here?

FADER:

I knew it was the golden land. That was the...

SIGRIST:

But, why? How did you know that? Who told you that?

FADER:

My father told me, my mother told me, my aunts wrote, please come, please come. And we, they sent papers for my father.

SIGRIST:

And your father is already, of course, he's in America. And he's been here for a number of years...

FADER:

Well, and he was here five years, he sent for us. You couldn't bring your family before they were a citizen.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember the process of getting ready to leave Riga? Do you remember getting the papers and that sort of thing?

FADER:

Yes, I used to go along with my mother. She wouldn't travel alone. Women don't go alone. They have to have an escort. Especially when it came to official papers. They all spoke Latish or German or whatever. It depends who you, and doctors. We went to so many doctors.

SIGRIST:

In Riga you went to doctors?

FADER:

In Riga, before we left.

SIGRIST:

Why? What were they looking for?

FADER:

Health. You had to be perfect health condition to come here. If they found anything wrong you just didn't get no visa. Once you got your visa you're perfect. That's why when Mrs. Rubin, Selma's mother, was retained in Germany, we all cried. We all felt terrible because we knew she was in perfect health. And all of sudden they found in Germany, when they go to Bremen, they found that she had trachoma. And that's why they detained. She was in Riga for, in, in Rig, in Berlin. She was there for a long time, about two or three years.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember being photographed for your passport?

FADER:

Oh, yes.

SIGRIST:

What, anything stick out in your mind about that experience, going to the photographer?

FADER:

No. It was my cousin. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

Your cousin was the photographer?

FADER:

And his wife was my Hebrew teacher. (she laughs) You know, it was all family there. You, and here, too. Isn't your family more important that anybody else? My children get along very well.

SIGRIST:

What about luggage? What did you take with you?

FADER:

We came with nice luggage. My father was a, made a good living. And if you make a good living, you'll live in any country.

SIGRIST:

Is there any one object that you remember taking with you to America that...

FADER:

What didn't we? Whatever we could lay our hands on.

SIGRIST:

So you took a lot of stuff?

FADER:

That we were allowed to bring here. You know, you get lists or something like, and then you want to sell everything and try and make as much as you can.

SIGRIST:

You mean sell the stuff...

FADER:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

...in Riga, to make some money to bring?

FADER:

Second hand, you know. A lot of people do it here, too. If you move you buy new furniture or you sell the old one.

SIGRIST:

Is there one object that you took with you as a sentimental, something that you took as a reminder of the life...

FADER:

Well, the candle sticks. That goes first. Jewish house, the candle sticks must be there house, it's sort of part of our religion. In fact, like if you move into a new apartment, you bring a broom and salt and sugar and a piece of bread. That's a house gift when you move. It's part of our religion.

SIGRIST:

So, your mother brought the candle sticks...

FADER:

Oh, my mother brought them, sure.

SIGRIST:

Yeah.

FADER:

And as she brought the samovar, you know what a samovar is? Them somebody took it. That was the second time they robbed us.

SIGRIST:

Someone took that in America once it...

FADER:

Yeah, yeah. Here. I was moving and I offered it to my sister. So she had this samovar and a tray and another tray, the whole set. And I left it in the apartment locked for my sister to pick it up. Well, somebody must have had our key, the super or somebody. We came to look for it. And if you don't see who took it you can't accuse them.

SIGRIST:

We're going to pause for one second, and Peter's going to flip the tapes over, and we'll get you to America.

FADER:

Oh. END OF SIDE ONE BEGINNING OF SIDE TWO

FADER:

I thought this was over.

SIGRIST:

Okay. We're now beginning side two. Mrs. Fader, where did you get the ship. Where did you get on the ship.

FADER:

In London.

SIGRIST:

So how did you get from Riga to London?

FADER:

By train and by boat. We went, what country was it? Overnight, just a little trip. And we stayed there in Sou, in Hampton, Southampton.

SIGRIST:

Southampton.

FADER:

Right.

SIGRIST:

So it's you and your mom and your brother, Moshe. Does anything stick out about going to England?

FADER:

Kippered herring. I walk up in the morning, you don't have that in Riga. And it smelled so good. I couldn't wait to get it to the dining room. (she laughs) Kippered herring.

SIGRIST:

How did you feel about leaving your life in Riga at that time?

FADER:

Well, as a child everyone is not happy when they leave. Because you leave all your friends and your, your life. But after I was here a year, and, a week, you wouldn't speak Eng, no other language but English. If I heard of a foreigner I walked the other way. I didn't want to have any foreign friends. I says, "I have to learn English."

SIGRIST:

How did your mother feel about leaving her family in Riga?

FADER:

Well, most of them were dead already. My grandmother was dead, my grandfather, her sister was dead. She was burned in a fire in a nursing home.

SIGRIST:

Was that before your left?

FADER:

Oh, yeah.

SIGRIST:

That was before you...

FADER:

I was still a little girl. See, in fact, she was lucky. She stayed over by us once before they had the fire. And then all of a sudden he went back to the home and that's what happened. And my uncle also. He escaped and he went to Lithuania, Latvia, Litvia [sic].

SIGRIST:

Lithuania?

FADER:

Lithuania, right.

SIGRIST:

So she didn't really have very much family left, then?

FADER:

No.

SIGRIST:

But do you know how she felt about...

FADER:

Oh, she cried. A lot of tears. Because we left my sister there yet, and my brother-in-law and the kids. Thank God they were all here. She came to see the children.

SIGRIST:

How long did you stay in England before you got on the ship?

FADER:

Two weeks.

SIGRIST:

Two weeks.

FADER:

A week we stayed in, by the Southampton there. And a week we stayed, where was it? In London by my aunt.

SIGRIST:

Were there any, you mentioned the kippered herring, were there any other things that you saw in England that you had never seen before?

FADER:

Oh, all the beautiful stuff that they had in the super markets. My aunt took me shopping with her. She was pretty well to do. And she bought all kind of things, and I thought she was so wonderful. Bought me so much, a silk dress, and, I came looking here like an American. I said, "That's a Gruene." You know what a Gruene is, a foreigner. They couldn't believe it. I came in a brown silk dress, and beautiful shoes, and my aunt dressed me in London. And before you leave there, that's, I don't know how it is today, but they used to make like an outfit, a couple of outfits to have, show nice things when you get to the United States. They don't let you bring any junk to show.

SIGRIST:

What was the ship that you finally got on?

FADER:

Olympic.

SIGRIST:

The Olympic. And tell me what your impressions of the ship were?

FADER:

I didn't have much, because I very sick. I got seasick.

SIGRIST:

Well, before you, before you got sick, when you were just getting on the ship, what did it look like to you?

FADER:

Oh, it was fantastic, like a palace. It was a beautiful boat. And the second day I was so sick I didn't want to look at the boat. I was so inept, the doctor wouldn't let me eat. I just had juice and soda crackers the whole trip. And my brother, my mother were fine. They ate everything in the dining room. And me, I ate on the deck. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

What class were you travelling?

FADER:

I think we were in the second class. That's why I don't know how we landed up here.

SIGRIST:

And can you describe for me where you slept on the ship? What did it look like?

FADER:

I was too sick to care. Just wanted to get off.

SIGRIST:

Do you know how long the trip took to get to...

FADER:

Six days.

SIGRIST:

It took six days? Fairly quick.

FADER:

Yeah. That was a quick trip.

SIGRIST:

Yeah.

FADER:

Yes. Because here people say they were fourteen days and twenty days and...

SIGRIST:

Sure. Forty-two days I heard. (he laughs)

FADER:

What? Oh, that was in steerage, wherever they went.

SIGRIST:

Tell me about, did your mother ever tell you any stories about what she had done on the ship while you were sick on the ship? I mean, what, how did she spend her days?

FADER:

Well, she ate, and she brought me food, but I couldn't eat it. So my brother ate it. (she laughs) I had a cat near me.

SIGRIST:

Who, do you know who stayed in the cabin with you? Was it just your mother and brother?

FADER:

No, just the three of us.

SIGRIST:

Just the three of you.

FADER:

Yeah, I don't remember anybody staying with us. No. Because we were a family.

SIGRIST:

Did you stay sick until you got to New York, or did you feel better...

FADER:

Nearly.

SIGRIST:

Almost.

FADER:

And then we got, we couldn't go with my mother, she couldn't come with us. And that upset me.

SIGRIST:

Well, you're talking about Ellis Island now?

FADER:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember seeing the Statue of Liberty coming in?

FADER:

No, I didn't.

SIGRIST:

No.

FADER:

My brother saw it. My mother. I was too sick to care.

SIGRIST:

You were still sick. (he laughs) All right. Well, tell me, do you know how you got out to Ellis Island? Do you know how they...

FADER:

With a boat, a little boat. They took us off that big boat. My mother was in a gurney. They took her right to the hospital.

SIGRIST:

And what was wrong with your mother?

FADER:

Nothing. She had a cold. But they weren't sure. You know, they didn't want her to bring no diseases, yeah. So we had to stay. Excuse me. And we couldn't even see her. We used to see her through a glass window.

SIGRIST:

Tell me what it all, tell me what Ellis Island looked like to you at that time.

FADER:

Nothing much except that I learned English. (she laughs) I learned to count. And they, they had a school here for the children. It was lovely. They sang American songs. I didn't understand a word, but I picked up the tune. And I loved school. I was so glad to be in school here. I came here Friday, and Monday I went to school. And Monday I went to Harlem all by myself. I wrote down my address. 22 Molan Place. That was my aunt's address. And I stood near the conductor with the paper in my hand. And I was there for the whole weekend, a visit. So I made myself a mark. They had a new store opening. You know, those triangle stores. You know, decorations. If they would have moved out away I still would travelling.

SIGRIST:

But that was after you got off of Ellis Island, right?

FADER:

Oh, yes, I was home.

SIGRIST:

Going to Harlem? Yeah, you were out already.

FADER:

Next week.

SIGRIST:

Where did you sleep on Ellis Island? Can you describe what it looked like?

FADER:

Wait, wait a minute. They had the, on the balcony here. They had the man on one side and the women on the other side. The end room was the doctor's offices. The beginning was a post office. I remember that place so vivid. I don't know why. I moved to so many places so many times. That stuck in my head.

SIGRIST:

Do any, do any of the other people who were here at Ellis Island stick out in your mind, like, ano, other women who were in this room with you, perhaps, or...

FADER:

Yes. I met some nice people, but they went, one family went, not Philadelphia. Where did they go? I never knew what it meant, where they were going. To me America was all New York. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

Where did you have to go to visit your mother?

FADER:

In the hospital here? Across the other side was the hospitals.

SIGRIST:

You had to actually go across into the hospital building side over there?

FADER:

Yes. They let us see her through the glass, or through a window.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember, do you remember what the procedure was to go over there?

FADER:

I don't know. Look, that I don't remember, but I know we went.

SIGRIST:

I was just wondering if maybe you were escorted by someone over there, or...

FADER:

Yes. Oh, we had, oh, they counted you wherever you went. We used to sit in the yard, and the police was walking, and guards around. Wherever you went they counted you. You went for breakfast, you went for dinner. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

What else, what do you remember about eating here?

FADER:

I was just talking to my friend. I don't know whether it was kosher. It must have been. Because wherever you go, even today, you get kosher meals. And it was good. We were hungry. Especially me. I didn't eat on the boat. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

Did you see any new foods that you had never seen before?

FADER:

Oh, yes. Like oranges and grapefruits and pineapples and. We don't see that. You only see it in Otter Schwarz. That's one big fruit store there in Riga for the millionaires.

SIGRIST:

What was the name of it?

FADER:

Schwarz.

SIGRIST:

Schwarz.

FADER:

Right near the, in the heart of the city. And, oh, to buy a piece of fruit there. You, when you went to visit somebody important and buy a half a pound of grapes, you were the best company they had for the day or the week. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

What about your brother? What was he doing on Ellis Island all this time?

FADER:

I don't know what, they, they took him with the boys.

SIGRIST:

That's right, because he's just that much older, so he was with...

FADER:

Yeah, he's six years older.

SIGRIST:

So he's with the men.

FADER:

Not the men yet. Well, he was, I was thirteen. I keep saying I was thirteen. He was, say, fourteen. Fourteen and, and he was a already a young man.

SIGRIST:

He was a young man, yeah.

FADER:

(she coughs) He didn't bother with me except take care of me, make sure nothing happens to me. That was orders.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember, did you have your baggage with you? Do you remember?

FADER:

No. We left it in the cubby hole. I don't remember where it was. But where we slept. Where am I going to take it? I went to school here in a classroom.

SIGRIST:

What, you said you learned English here. Do you remember how they taught you?

FADER:

Well, they, they had a lot of people here from the H.I.A.S.

SIGRIST:

The Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society.

FADER:

Right. And they gave us all this work. I made a lot of things.

SIGRIST:

I should say for the sake of the tape that Mrs. Fader is pointing to a small child's outfit. It's sort of a rough blue fabric with different colored embroidery on it...

FADER:

I did the embroidery.

SIGRIST:

And you did that here at Ellis Island?

FADER:

Yeah. Yeah, while I was here the two weeks. I was kept busy.

SIGRIST:

Yeah.

FADER:

And painted and sang "God," not "God Bless America." We didn't have the "God Bless America" yet. What was it? Maybe our national anthem, I don't remember. And we had a good timing in the classroom.

SIGRIST:

Can you, can you talk about these little child's outfits a little bit? These...

FADER:

It's rompers.

SIGRIST:

Rompers. They're child's rompers.

FADER:

Little boys or girls. Either one could wear it.

SIGRIST:

You're going to spread it out.

FADER:

See?

SIGRIST:

Oh, I see. You have embroidered ducks on it.

FADER:

On this one is ducks swimming.

SIGRIST:

And who gave you the fabric to do this?

FADER:

That was not a fabric. It was all made, all sewed up.

SIGRIST:

So the body of it...

FADER:

The only thing I did was the embroidery.

SIGRIST:

So the body of this was all done before.

FADER:

Was all done. And the H.I.A.S. sort of gave out paints and needles and threads and all things and materials.

SIGRIST:

Sort of arts and crafts stuff?

FADER:

Right. Even though we couldn't talk much. But a few of them knew a few Jewish words they remember. And this was my piece of art. And since then I sew and I paint and I do everything.

SIGRIST:

And now that, there's one that has, you embroidered ducks on the front...

FADER:

One has ducks.

SIGRIST:

...and the other one...

FADER:

They're swimming, and the other was is pussy cats.

SIGRIST:

Oh, and it has a little cat on it.

FADER:

Yeah. Meow.

SIGRIST:

Now where, now where did you learn to embroider? Did you learn that in, in Latvia, or...

FADER:

In Europe you learn everything when you're young. They got to keep you busy. Not in school. They do not waste time on nonsense like this. They, they have all kind of clubs after school. And they want you to sign up for this club, for that club, and you learn it.

SIGRIST:

That's in Riga, in Latvia?

FADER:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

When you were in school here at Ellis Island, where did you go? Was there a separate school room somewhere?

FADER:

A workroom where you sat there when you sewed. And you sang, and if you know a few words you mumbled along, too. (she laughs) And that's, we, they were very nice to us. Except that I thought to be counted like that, I says, "What am I, a jailbird?" I knew that. I was never in the jail, I was never in the police station, but I knew that they keep counting the prisoners.

SIGRIST:

Did you mother ever tell you any stories about what she experienced...

FADER:

She did not go to school.

SIGRIST:

No. I mean when she was at Ellis Island, did she ever...

FADER:

She was sick.

SIGRIST:

I know, but I was just wondering if she ever told you anything about what she experienced while she was there.

FADER:

No. Mother's don't tell children bad things. Everything good. She was the type that everything was good. She never complained about anything. I don't think she ever killed a cockroach. (she laughs) She was such a good soul.

SIGRIST:

Do you remember when they finally released her?

FADER:

Oh, she was happy to be, my father had an apartment ready for us. Old furniture we bought. I don't know where he got them. Because when I went to work, when I was eighteen, I got rid of all that and I bought furniture in Sacs furniture. And what was the other one? Goldman? No. Goldman was the knitting store. Another furniture store where you bought things like on time. You know, payments. And when I started work, every Friday I ran right with pay to pay for the. I bought a new dining room and a new bedroom and that's the way we change our life.

SIGRIST:

Did your father come out to Ellis Island to visit while you people were held here?

FADER:

No, I don't think so, because...

SIGRIST:

When, when do you remember seeing him?

FADER:

...he was working. And on the sabbath he didn't travel. We saw him when he came for us.

SIGRIST:

I'm just curious, can you describe when you saw him...

FADER:

Well, we met him when we got off the boat.

SIGRIST:

Oh, so he...

FADER:

Before we were transferred here. And then it wasn't so long that we didn't see him. He was away five years and one year he was with us. They counted that as an, he, he had passport and all that, so, 1923.

SIGRIST:

Right. So he, he was not coming out to visit you then while you remained on Ellis...

FADER:

Well, he was busy making a living.

SIGRIST:

Right. Where, where did he take you? Where was the apartment where he was living.

FADER:

On Intervale Avenue. 1142 Intervale Avenue.

SIGRIST:

Inter...

FADER:

Intervale.

SIGRIST:

Intervale.

FADER:

Right.

SIGRIST:

I-N-T-E-R-V-A-L-E.

FADER:

I think so. We passed it today.

SIGRIST:

Intervale Avenue.

FADER:

On the subway.

SIGRIST:

And describe that apartment that he had ready for you.

FADER:

It was nice. It was a bedroom and a big kitchen. Eat in kitchen. And dining room. A round table. Old furniture.

SIGRIST:

Did it have electricity?

FADER:

Oh, yes. And we had gas, but we had to put a quarter in yet. No, but not for very long. Right after that they installed the automatic gas.

SIGRIST:

Gas for cooking or for lighting?

FADER:

For cooking.

SIGRIST:

For cooking.

FADER:

But some people said they had gas for lighting, too. Not in 1929. It was a pretty modern apartment, already.

SIGRIST:

And tell me a little bit about that neighborhood. Was it a Jewish neighborhood?

FADER:

Mostly.

SIGRIST:

Mostly.

FADER:

Because, I came home from school one day. And my mother made friends with a Jewish lady there. And in Riga our English, our Yiddish is different than all the other countries. You know, everyone has their own lingo. So, my neighbor says to me, "Your mother left a message for you that she went to the (Yiddish)." And I didn't know what she said. I knew what she said. She went to the grocery to buy rolls. That's the way we speak in Riga. It's half German and half Yiddish. She couldn't believe it. And then the oatmeal. She said, "Yeah, she's going to buy oatmeal." She says, "What's oatmeal?" (Yiddish) She says, "What's (Yiddish)?" She didn't know that word. She never heard it. I says, "I know. She went to get oatmeal." I became an interpreter. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

Talk a little bit about your mother and some of the difficulties that she had.

FADER:

Oh, she, she couldn't learn English. Her hearing was poor.

SIGRIST:

Did she attempt to learn English?

FADER:

She did. But strawberries were "scrubberies." (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

So she always had a thick accent?

FADER:

Well, she didn't hear the "sto." But the "scrubberies." So it was "scrubberies." And she was so good that she never corrected me.

SIGRIST:

What about, what about her clothing and her hair style? Did she...

FADER:

Oh, she looked modern. She had a bun. You know. She had beautiful long hair. And she had typhoid when she was young. I think when I was born. I was about three or four. And from that she had a big bald spot here. (she indicates) Her hair loss, she had loss of hair. And she used to pick up her hair and make a bun here. (she indicates) And nobody knew, and she wouldn't tell no one. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

I wonder if maybe that's why they brought her out to Ellis Island.

FADER:

No.

SIGRIST:

No? You're sure of that?

FADER:

She had a flu or the grip or something. No. Because this was a nice bald spot. It wasn't sore or anything. That was many years ago. That was...

SIGRIST:

Right, right. But I wonder if the doctors saw that...

FADER:

They all let her go. If you let go, if you get a passport or an entrance visa or something, you are in good health. Not today. Today they would rather get rid of them. They send us all their troubles. But that's why they detained her. They did not say anything that her hair or something. To me, I used to say, "Now, Mama, let me see that." But it was nothing. A nice, clean bald spot. And that's what happens to typhoid. Or what did they, else it called? Selma's brother had...

SIGRIST:

Selma meaning Mrs. Rubin?

FADER:

Mrs. Rubin, yeah.

SIGRIST:

Right.

FADER:

He also had something. What did he have? I remember going and seeing him in the hospital in Europe. I don't remember what he had. We also couldn't see him. We saw him through the window. I was very friendly with her there, too.

SIGRIST:

In Riga?

FADER:

Yeah. And, and he had bald spot. Half of his head didn't grow back the hair.

SIGRIST:

Hmm.

FADER:

That's her younger brother. And they let him. It was nothing contagious.

SIGRIST:

And did your mother, she always had that spot?

FADER:

Oh, she, yeah...

SIGRIST:

Yeah?

FADER:

...she had to cover it up, without the hair, so she grew it long. She had no brown hair. She looked beautiful. She had nice skin.

SIGRIST:

Tell me about staring school here in America.

FADER:

Oh, I loved it.

SIGRIST:

Now, before we start that, though, tell me about your name. When you, when you started school...

FADER:

I came, I said, "I'm Nechama." Because I didn't know no other way. I went to school three days after I got here. I got here Friday, and Monday morning I wouldn't let my father go to work. "Take me to school." So he had to take me because he spoke English. He had to talk to them. And brought me up in the classroom where they did sewing. First period. Two periods, on Monday was sewing. But you don't have sewing in Europe in school there. They don't waste no time on nonsense like that. That your mother has to teach you or somebody. So I knew how to sew. And Mrs. Werbel, who was my teacher...

SIGRIST:

Mrs. Verber?

FADER:

Werbel.

SIGRIST:

Can you spell that?

FADER:

I think it was W-E-R-B-E-L . Werbel.

SIGRIST:

Thank you.

FADER:

And she had a club foot. (she indicates) One foot was (unintelligible). That's the high shoes. Not the leather, but the heel to build it up to make her sort of even. And she was a lovely teacher. I loved her. And I had a Miss Rosenbloom. And she taught English. And she spoke Russian. One day I was sitting there and I was day dreaming. I was good in art. I was drawing, writing her name. And she says to me in Russian, "Where do you come from?" I thought I saw my great grandmother. She says, "I speak Russian because my parents came from Russia. But I will not speak to you. You have to learn English. Don't worry about nothing else but English." Then we, Doctor, Mr. Levine. History teacher. That was a few months later. And fourteen children or eighteen children in the class did not have history homework. They played hooky. So, I was one of them, and another girl, Ethel Levine. Look how I remember that so many years. Such a nonsense. And Ethel and I, Miss McGlocklen [PH] came in, our principle. She says, "You girls I'll see in my office." I didn't even know what she was saying yet. Because I never, in Europe you don't go to the principle's office. That's the biggest shame of the century. So she asked, Ethel said, "Come on. We have to go in her office." She spoke Yiddish. So she told me in Yiddish, and she, Miss McGlocklen walks in and starts talking to me. And she realized right away I was a mocky [sic]. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

A mocky?

FADER:

That's what they used to call the foreigners.

SIGRIST:

Mockies.

FADER:

Mocky. So, she says, "How do you like our school." But I spoke English already. I was here about six months. So I says, "I love it. If only if it wasn't for Miss Luder." Miss Luder was my official teacher. Oh, that was already in Seven B because I was here a few month. You know, they promoted even though I didn't know enough English. She says, "How do you like our school." I says, "I love it." But Mrs. Werbel, Mrs., she's Irish. She don't like me. She calls me foreigner. I have a name. I said my name is Naomi or Dorum or whatever. But she used to say foreigner. I said I don't like that. Meanwhile the bell rang and she told me to go home to have my lunch. We went home for lunch. Everybody took an apartment right near the school so your child comes for school and, for lunch. And she says, "Don't go home now. Don't go to classroom, go home. Have your lunch and you'll come back." Miss Luder was waiting for me. She says, "You got your nerve to complain to Miss McGlocklen about me." She must have given her a talking to. And I says, "Well, be nice, and I wouldn't complain." I already knew how to say that. I always had a big mouth. So, on the end of the term, to make it short, she gave me a box of paint. Tubes of paint. In drawing and all that, for a scrapbook. I was her pet. She didn't know what to do for me to apologize what she did to me. And I still have that box of paint, that I used up with holes already. But they're mine. Nobody can get that. The other day we were talking about school, and I brought it out. And my nurse, I go to a home for elderly people, you know. So I showed it to her. She says, "How come you still got it." I says, "I wouldn't give that up. That's my first prize I got. (she laughs)

SIGRIST:

Now, before we started talking, taping, you mentioned that somebody at school had suggested that you change your name from Nechama...

FADER:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

...to...

FADER:

Miss McGlocklen did.

SIGRIST:

It was Miss McGlocklen.

FADER:

Yeah. She says there is no "chah" in the English language. C-H is "chah." So she says, "We have to give you an English name." And Norma Shearer was very popular then. So she says, "I have a good name. It's means love in, in, in, it's an Indian name." It's also a Jewish name. Naomi and Ruth are in the Bible. So we'll call you Naomi. Well, when I came to my aunt's house, the one that I went to see when I was here three days, she gave me a name. She insulted me. She called me a dirty name. She says, "You came in by yourself. You're already getting prizes and all that." She was jealous that her children didn't get, I guess. (she laughs) And I says, "Well, I pay attention. I do what I'm told. I don't fight with nobody." You know how kids are. Fourteen. And I loved it.

SIGRIST:

Tell me about your father.

FADER:

He took me to school.

SIGRIST:

This is New York City, right, where you are?

FADER:

The Bronx.

SIGRIST:

Yeah.

FADER:

Been in the Bronx all my life.

SIGRIST:

You, you mentioned that he was painting house is Detroit.

FADER:

Apartments.

SIGRIST:

What did he do in New York.

FADER:

Well, I, in New York he went, well, he learned how to paint. So he became a painting contractor.

SIGRIST:

So he was still doing that here? And did your mother ever seek employment outside of the house?

FADER:

No.

SIGRIST:

No.

FADER:

Never.

SIGRIST:

She didn't.

FADER:

She was older women didn't go to work.

SIGRIST:

When you look back on your life now, now you've had an interesting life certainly...

FADER:

I did. I loved it.

SIGRIST:

What kind of advise would you give a young person now on, on ways of leading their life successfully?

FADER:

Stay in school. Get all the education you can. All my grandchildren went to college. One just graduated. One is, wanted to be a lawyer but she's not, she sell computers. And the other one works on Wall Street. And they're all doing good, thank God.

SIGRIST:

Did you get married?

FADER:

Yes. Twice.

SIGRIST:

What year? What was the first marriage...

FADER:

I divorced my first husband.

SIGRIST:

What year did you marry the first husband?

FADER:

I was eighteen. Nineteen.

SIGRIST:

Nineteen when you married the first time.

FADER:

Yes.

SIGRIST:

And the second time?

FADER:

And I divorced him and I married, my daughter was, I think...

SIGRIST:

And that was Mr. Fader, the second?

FADER:

I, I married him, my kid was nine.

SIGRIST:

And that was Mr. Fader that you married?

FADER:

Yeah.

SIGRIST:

Do you think of yourself Latvian, as Jewish or American?

FADER:

American. I get angry when you call me anything else. (they laugh) I love it here. My children, definitely. And they're, they're so good to me. Their the best children in the world.

SIGRIST:

And what are their names?

FADER:

I'm lucky. Janet, and the second one is Sarabell. She had both names. And, you know, we name in, Jewish people, we name after the dead. So she was named after two grandmas. Sharah [sic], Sarah Belle. So they called it, my sister-in-law made it one name, Sarabell. And she's Sarabell. Now people don't want to call her Sarabell, they want to call her Bunny.

SIGRIST:

Bunny? (he laughs)

FADER:

I don't care.

SIGRIST:

Would you, you've never been back to Latvia, I think you said?

FADER:

No.

SIGRIST:

No. Would you have any interest in going?

FADER:

I'd just like to see, because someone just came back from there a while, a while ago.

SIGRIST:

Who did?

FADER:

One of the doctors.

SIGRIST:

Somebody that you know?

FADER:

He was infected. Selma worked with that doctor...

SIGRIST:

Mrs. Rubin. Yes, Selma Rubin.

FADER:

...she always worked in, a medical secretary. And she asked one of the doctors, he went to Europe, "What did you like in Europe?" He says, "I went to one little country that is so beautiful. I liked it the best." She says, "Where?" He says, "Oh, you wouldn't know. It was a little country." She says, "But, where? I come from Europe." He says, "Riga, Latvia." She says, "You got your nerve not to tell me. I was born there." (they laugh) And he fell in love with it. It is a beautiful town.

SIGRIST:

Would you want to go and see it now?

FADER:

Yes, just as curiosity. Because I went to see Israel twice. And I think I'd like to see that again. But then can't afford it.

SIGRIST:

Well, Mrs. Fader, I want to thank you very much for making this...

FADER:

Oh, it's my pleasure.

SIGRIST:

...making this trek out from the Bronx on this Friday afternoon. This is Paul Sigrist...

FADER:

I cooked yesterday. (he laughs) I don't cook on the sabbath.

SIGRIST:

So you don't have to cook on the sabbath.

FADER:

No.

SIGRIST:

This is Paul Sigrist signing off with Naomi Fader on Friday, July 7th, 1995. Thank you very much.