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My
Grandfather The story is about my grandparents on my mother's side. They were born in the Ukraine, before the Russian Revolution in 1917-my grandmother in 1883, my grandfather in 1882. They didn't attend any schools, they couldn't read or write. When my grandfather was ten years old, he started to study to become a tailor. He was a special tailor. He sewed coats, felt boots, and mittens from sheep's furs for women, men, and children . My grandfather was very poor; he wasn't able to buy a machine and he sewed all these by hand. My grandparents got married very young and their life was very hard. My grandfather left home for several days. He went to some villages with a big sack over his shoulder and a stick in his hand. The sack was full of furs that he bought before, and the stick was for his safety from dogs. When he came to a village, he went from house to house and was looking for some job. He was looking for persons who needed coats, felt boots, mittens that he could make. When he found someone, they agreed about the price, and my grandfather stayed in this house for several days until he made what was ordered. Usually the owner fed my grandfather and gave him a glass of alcohol before dinner by the old Russian tradition. My grandfather was a good craftsman, and when he finished his work the owners were always satisfied. Some owners paid by money, some gave food like flour, grain, potatoes, etc. When he used all his furs, he went back home with the same sack over his shoulder, but heavier, and with some money. He rested for a few days and went again to work, from village to village and house to house. At that time, there were no buses and he walked on foot. He walked in any seasons; in the rain, in the snow, in the cold and in the heat. The years ran quickly. The family increased. My grandparents had four children-three daughters and one son. A lot of Jewish pogroms passed in Ukraine. The Russian Revolution in 1917 brought a lot of anti-Semitism. My grandparents were Jews and life was very hard for them before the Revolution and after. My grandfather was not able to walk to villages any more. He started to work at a factory. Life became harder. But the most horrible occasion happened at the time of one of the biggest pogroms. My grandparent's oldest daughter was sixteen. She was a beauty; large black eyes, long black hair, white smooth skin and a shapely figure. At the time of the pogrom a bandit saw her, and set off in pursuit of her. She ran away and came to the roof of a three-story building. When she saw the bandit next to her, she jumped down and perished. They say in that country "a trouble doesn't come alone." A month after the tragedy my grandparents' youngest daughter died from the loss of her oldest sister. The girl was four years old, her last words were,"I go to my beloved sister." I was born much later, but my mother told me that after the daughters' deaths, my grandfather became very quickly gray and old. My mother got married in 1931. I was born in 1932. My grandparents took care of me from my first day. All their love they gave to me. Before World War II my grandparents lived with their son. Their dream was to see his children. He was going to get married. He had a bride and had settled on the day of the wedding. But then misfortune knocked on the door of my old grandparents and on the door of the Soviet people. World War II brought a lot of suffering and death, particularly to the Jewish people. My father and my uncle were called to the army. My mother, my grandparents and I were evacuated on the fifth day after the war began. There were a lot of bombings on the way. We moved not far away from our city, when my mother and my grandfather were wounded. His head was injured. We didn't believe that he would recover. All this time he spoke about his son. He took some food only from my hands. My mother was pregnant and she was wounded in her back and dangerously ill. We were all at the hospital in a town called Uman. Two days before the Germans entered the little town we were evacuated again. My grandfather was not able to walk and to sit, he was a bedridden patient. He was flat on his back on the stretcher. The doctor didn't want to take him, because he was hopeless, but we refused to leave without him, and the doctor gave permission to take my grandfather. The doctor was sure that he would die. But my grandfather became better and he lived twenty-nine years after the war. After a long, hungry, and hard way we came to Pjatigorsk. My brother was born in January 1942. My grandfather did all to help our family to survive. He stood for eight to ten hours in the line to get some bread on special cards. He tried to get some milk for our newborn boy, and he tried to get some firewood to make some warmth for the baby. All the time we were waiting for some letters from my father and my uncle. They were at the front. And again, my grandparents were unlucky; their only son, their hope, their love was killed in 1942. This definitely broke my grandparents' hearts. After Pjatigorsk, we were evacuated two more times. When we had to cross the Caspian Sea, my brother was sick. His legs were covered with abscesses. If anyone would have seen this, our family wouldn't get the permission to stay on the ship or the child could have been thrown into the sea. But my grandfather got knee socks, pulled them on my brother's legs and saved his life. When the socks were removed the skin came with them. It was awful! But my brother is alive! The next place was Chili Town. Our family lived in a stable. The owner didn't want to have a Jewish family in his yard, so he burned down the stable. We left to Tashkent. My grandfather started to work at a factory, because he wanted to help the family to survive. There were special cards for bread. There was more bread for people who worked. One pound of bread was very important for us. And, besides, he got a little money. When the war was over, we came back home. My grandparents were sick and weak. Their old house was destroyed and they lived with our family. My grandparents then moved together with us to Riga. When my son was born, it was like the sun shone again for my grandfather. He was happy to spend more time with the baby. He was glad to buy something for him. When my son began school my grandfather walked him to school and met him after his lessons. I remember a very interesting story from the latest part of my grandparents' life. My grandfather sometimes liked to have wine before dinner, but this wine he made himself. It was a fruit liquor made from cherries. A lot of people used to do it in Russia. He took a big bottle of three or four gallons, filled the bottle with cherries and sugar. Then he tightly tied it and gave it time to ferment. The cherries gave the juice that became wine. But my grandfather liked to make the wine stronger and added occasionally some vodka. My grandmother didn't understand why there seemed to be more wine rather than less. My grandfather said that he added some water. My grandmother asked him why he was adding so much water. One day she tried the wine and understood what was happening. It was funny! My grandfather died at the age of 87. He died at the hospital after an operation. He had cancer. Thank God, he didn't suffer. He wasn't in pain. He died the next day after the operation. When I think about my grandfather's life, I understand how difficult it was. He was a kind, calm man. He never brought troubles to anyone, but he suffered a lot. Sleep quietly my dear Grandfather, the life of your great-grandchildren will be much better in our new country-the United States of America! by
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