I slid in
the sawdust that sprinkled the floor of the St. Louis Fish Market on Lawrence
Avenue in Albany Park. I waited patiently for my grandmother, Gussie Schlan,
who we in our family affectionately called “Bubbie.” She stood staring at the
rows of stacked fish that lay over beds of ice, lifeless, yet eyes bulging in
their heads. Soon Bubbie would select
the whitefish, carp and pike that met her scrupulous standards for the ingredients
of the fabled gefilte fish that she prepared each Passover for our Seder
dinner.
Obtaining my
driver’s license that winter of 1961, I frequently chauffeured Bubbie around so
she could do her errands. It was convenient as my parents and I lived across
the street from her on Lunt Avenue in the West Rogers Park neighborhood. After
Zadie David had passed away several years before, my sister Anne stayed with Bubbie
for a few months. Bubbie then remained alone in the apartment on California
Avenue which was above Bernie Joseph’s grocery store and Joe Stone’s barber
shop. She did have occasional lady roommates over the years, but none of them
lasted for very long.
Although the
roommates that she had were all very nice ladies, the truth must be told that
Bubbie had her own idiosyncrasies which made it difficult for an outsider to
live with her. Her family could do no wrong, but Bubbie had the propensity find
flaws in others. I remember her describing one roommate and her family in
descriptive Yinglish as “a bunch of meshuggeners.” After listening to another
roommate tell what I thought to be a poignant story, Bubbie whispered to me” I
can’t stand her mishegoss.” These Yiddish words were referring to elements of
craziness in both people and things.
Bubbie never
learned to read, write and speak English properly. She arrived in the States as
a young woman from her home in Lithuania in 1910, several years after Zadie had
come here to find work first. It was Zadie, and eventually their children, my
mother Ilene, my uncles, Julie and Jerry, who had to navigate English-speaking
Chicago for her in making decisions, both major and minor. Later in her life
Bubbie confessed to her granddaughter, my cousin Harriet, that her only regret
in life was that she couldn’t learn English better, and perhaps she should have
enrolled in an English class or two and maybe advance her education in other
ways as well.
She was your consummate Jewish grandmother who
lavished her grandchildren with love and affection. We kids looked forward to
what we called a “Bubbie Gussie kiss,” a warm and wet smack on our cheeks that
seemed to last a minute or so. She had a smile that seemed to make the room
glow and a laugh that caught our attention and made us laugh as well.
Another
distinguishing feature of Bubbie was the flair she had when she went out to
what she called “a fancy occasion.” Putting on her lipstick, rouge and mascara,
in the prelude to going out, was a major project. When Uncle Julie won a mink
stole in a raffle, he gave it to Bubbie as a gift. She seemed to wear it quite
often, expanding the definition of “a fancy occasion to a walk in the park.
Bubbie took
great pride in being an American. She didn’t have a written record of her
birth, so the family celebrated her birthday on the 4th of July. She
always voted in elections, usually with the generous assistance of our
Democratic precinct captain. She had a fit when I grew my first beard, saying
that it reminded her of the men who lived in the shtetl in a past world. I had
to shave it off immediately.
I remember
that taking Bubbie shopping was quite an experience. She seemed to have brought
the shtetl market place mentality to the New World. Every marked price on an
item seemed too high for her and she generally let the merchant know about it.
When given a chance, she loved bargaining over an item.
Bubbie loved
playing cards. Although she enjoyed playing kalooki, poker was her game of
choice. She played mostly with her Yiddish speaking lady friends, although
every now and then a man was let in the game. The stakes were penny ante with
nickel raises, but the games were nevertheless highly intense. Bubbie always
appeared completely focused on the game and could not be distracted until its
conclusion.
When Uncle
Julie and Uncle Jerry opened their business on the Southeast Side of Chicago,
they settled their families in that area. Since ours was a tightly-knit family,
and although they lived on the other side of the city, Bubbie expected, and
received, a telephone call from both of them each day of the week. They always
told her what they ate that day. Sunday was reserved as a day when the family
would get together with her. She even took a holiday from card playing that
day.
In addition
to Anne and me, who were the children of Ilene and her husband, our father,
Jack, Bubbie’s other grandchildren were Harriet and Lester, the children of
Uncle Julie and Aunt Ethel, and Jill and Lee, the children of Uncle Jerry and
Aunt Ro. Bubbie had an unique and loving relationship with each of us. When she
passed away in 1975, we six cousins were sitting together around the table at
the shiva exchanging Bubbie stories. We soon discovered that it seemed as if
each of us felt favorite grandchild status from Bubbie. She had that gift to
make us all feel loved in her very special way.
Cousin Richie
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