got broken and that my father sent to the doll hospi- tal to have fixed. When we went to the movies it only cost a nickel and they gave you an envelope that might contain a nickel or a dime prize. Somehow the chance to win a prize made going to the movies even better. BOBOLINK THE BUTTERFLY I was part of a school play in which all the kids were dressed in farm animal costumes. I had the role of Bobolink the Butterfly and wore a black and orange crepe paper costume. My mother wasn’t able to come to school with me to fit me into my costume. Some nice lady at school got me ready. I think my mother was waiting for my father to come home from work. In the middle of the play I looked out into the packed house and saw my family. I started waving excitedly to them and that got the audience excited and then everyone began laughing. That was my stage debut. Another time my mother somehow forgot to put underpants on me and sent me to school with- out them. When I walked up the school steps some boys behind me noticed and lifted my skirt. I was so embarrassed that when I got home I actual- ly hit my mother out of frustration.
CALIFORNIA Unfortunately this period didn’t last. When the Great Depression began with the stock market collapse in 1929 my father’s business crashed as well. He had to find some other way to support the fami- ly. At the time my dad’s brother, Isaac, lived in Los Angeles, California. My uncle suggested that my father move to California and they would go into business together. So, if you had been a bird in a tree one fine day in 1930 you would have seen five people, my parents, my brother, Marvin, my sister, Pearl, and me all crammed into a big car with running boards, head- ing for California. The trip took twelve days. While driving in the desert my mother would constant- ly mop my father’s brow and put bits of ice on his head – this was long before cars had air condition- ing. When we stopped at motels along the way my favorite food was something called a snowflake roll. I was such a terrible eater in those days that it prob- ably lasted me all day. Even today a road trip from Philadelphia to Los Angeles is a long haul. Back then, before super-highways, it was an eternity. At some points there was no one else on the road. Once the car got stuck in mud and we had quite an adventure getting it out. At the time there was no such thing as a car radio. I was so bored that, as we drove along, I would throw my play dishes, one by one, out the window. Maybe I was leaving a trail. BOILED HEIGHTS California was not what my parents hoped it would be. We lived in an area known as Boyle Heights. At the time it was one of the most diverse communities in the United States. Eastern Euro- peans, many of them Jewish, as well as Chinese and Mexicans, lived in Boyle Heights. We called it “Boiled Heights.” It was not until just recently I learned the correct name. One area, known as The Flats, was considered the worst slum in the country – worse than anything in New York City. My father and his brother Isaac were not successful in their business venture and, to make matters much worse, the sisters-in-law did not get along. In the two and a half years we lived in Cali- fornia I have only a few vivid memories. There was a crab apple tree outside our house and my moth- er made jelly from the apples. I remember a minor earthquake. I remember I had a porcelain doll that
Dorothy 7 years old
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