
Helen Demby of Bayonne, NJ 1945. Posing with Martin Litinger her grandson and my cousin. From the Goldfinger family album.
By Paul (Demby) Goldfinger, M.D. Editor @Blogfinger.net. Ocean Grove, NJ, USA.
Helen Demby (my grandmother) came to the United States after being persecuted as a Jew in Poland. She came around 1915 with my grandfather, a few kids and then more children born here (total 9 including my mother.) She had 3 daughters and 6 sons. I have her citizenship papers.
My grandfather Chaim was a tailor. They say he sewed uniforms for the Czar. The family lived in a row house on the Boulevard in Bayonne NJ with one bathroom, a tiny kitchen, and a few bedrooms. 4 sons served in WWII, and this photo was obtained by the family photographer Auntie Jean Litinger.
Marty was being welcomed home after serving with the Coast Guard on a ship in convoys traveling the North Atlantic with supplies for England and Russia. He told me that he stood on deck during horrid storms when the bow would rise up high into the air along with the waves.
The East European Jews (Ashkenazi) spoke a language specific to their group called Yiddish. Here it was a blend of Hebrew, English, German and a few other languages.
Yiddish matured into a vehicle for music, literature, theater, and everyday conversation. The family spoke Yiddish in the house, but everywhere else they all spoke perfect English unless they met a “landsman” (a fellow countryman) on the street, in a Jewish shop, or in a shul (synagogue.)
Grandma Helen was a sweet, kind woman. She and Auntie Jean made wonderful Kosher meals in that small kitchen with a table for 2.
My mother was the songstress in the family, so we had lots of Yiddish and American music in the house, and the whole family loved it. Grandpa Demby often took my mother “Malka” with him to the Yiddish theater on 2nd Avenue in New York.
Yiddish music can be very sentimental. This song “Mamaleh” is a tribute to mothers. It is sung by Yaacov Shapiro and is very beautiful:
Thank you for sharing this wonderful story and song.
Thank you for sharing the beautiful family history and treasured photograph.
I bet Grandma Helen cooked up a storm in that little kitchen.