to be devout, but my visits to the temple were usually discouraging. The Rabbi seemed helpless, conduct- ing services for a large room full of people all doing their own thing. It seemed out of control and not at all reverent. Worse, I could not understand a word that was said because the service was completely in Hebrew. Mother hired a teacher to prepare me for my Bar Mitzvah, but I was a very poor student of the language. He used to try to teach me to read as he held a ruler in his hand. Every time I made a mistake, he would slap my hand with the ruler. It wasn’t very many lessons before I rebelled. I never had a Bar Mitzvah. My father, that most wonderful of men whom I shall revere until I take my last breath, though a native of conservative Eastern Europe steeped in reli- gion, was not religious either. I think that was why I was able to stand my ground and give up trying to learn Hebrew. As it happened, neither of my older brothers were Bar Mitzvahed, either. In his 50’s, my brother Harry made up that deficiency and celebrat- ed his own. Eventually, he became president of the synagogue for a three-year term.
Felton Fire Company was located directly across from Dewey School. Fairly often, the great horn at the firehouse would blare. When it happened, you would think that sound could be heard for a hundred miles. The alarm was designed to summon the volunteer firemen. Fire engines often came charging out of the garage to points unknown. It was thrilling to a little boy like me to see them in action. Those great red fire engines were always part of our civic parades, too. My favorite was the hook and ladder truck; it was awesome, with one driver in the cab and another perched up on the rear. McCoy’s Toys sold lead soldiers for pennies. The store was full of stuff labeled ‘Made in Japan.’ In those days, that was a synonym for junk. Frankel’s Department Store, I don’t recall much except that their son, Harold Frankel, was Harry and Izzy’s friend. The Chester-Bridgeport Ferry was the way to New Jersey and all points to the sand and beaches of Atlantic City before the bridge. This ferry was the lifeline of our business, both the gas station and the diner depended on waves of travelers. We used to pass out flyers and place them in the windshields of the cars. Business came to us in droves as the ferry disembarked and everyone drove off. Large factories faced the waterfront. They were the main reason that Chester was on the map in the first place. Sun Boatyard builders, Ford Motor Car, and Scott Tissue were among the largest employers in the region. I would be remiss if I did not mention the Dela- ware River, littered with industrial plants, all belch- ing into the air and rusting away. Years after I left, the excess from these plants would cause one of the worst environmental disasters in America. The loca- tion of the disaster was directly under the Commo- dore Perry Bridge on the Pennsylvania side. Storage tanks of chemicals were placed under the bridge against the law. Eventually, they leaked, and a fire set the whole chemical stew ablaze. Before our water- way became one of the most polluted in the nation, we used to jump off the piers and swim in the clean waters. Ohev Shalom Synagogue was our temple. From time to time I went to Sunday school in downtown Chester. The synagogue was a three-story building with a sanctuary on the 3rd floor. For a short while, I tried
Summer 1949 - Herman with First Car
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