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Chapter 2
My Teens
After my brother's death, my life somehow accelerated. So many things seemed to happen in quick succession. In the spring of 1934, a group of us boys approached a city official with a request to build a football field on property owned by the community. The land was fairly level and did not require too much work to bring it to a desirable condition. We persuaded this official to purchase uniforms and shoes for a team of eleven players plus two or three reserves. We planned to play against the neighboring schools, which was fine with him.
However, the plan almost came to naught when he asked us to name the players we chose for our team. When we presented the list to him, he immediately and abruptly changed his mind. I could see that there was somebody on the list he did not like. We put our heads together and came to the conclusion that the offender must be a friend of ours named Shlomo Jakubovic (no relative), whose father was a tailor and a well-known Communist. We approached the official with our suspicion and he readily admitted that he could not openly, as a city official, exclude Shlomo because of his political views, even less so, for the views of his father. However, he was sure that his superiors would not appropriate the needed money if this player were on the team. We agreed to drop our friend from the team only until the uniforms arrived and the field was all finished. We never told Shlomo about it. He was our friend and a good football player and we felt it would be wrong to exclude him. We never had any problems with our contact at City Hall. He knew he was powerless to stop us, and took our double-cross with good graces, continuing to be helpful to us.
I was looking forward to a nice summer of football once our team started clicking. We had already played a few preliminary games with good results. However, for me it was not to be. In late spring, my father married, for the second time, a young lady named Anne Loebel, from Jablonec. She came from a well-established family. Her mother was still alive, and lived in Prague with her two middle sons, Arthur and Sigi. The youngest son, Josef, was still living in Jablonec. The oldest brother, Ernst, lived in Palestine.
Father and his new wife came to Volove for a visit and stayed a few days to be introduced to the family. She was impressed with our house and the countryside, as it reminded her of her own hometown, which also lay in the valley of the famous Krkonose hills. As it later turned out, I correctly observed that she was not overly enthusiastic about the rest of the Friedmans. As for me, I did not think about it too much at first, somehow not realizing that things would be changing for me.
Only at the end of their visit did they tell me that they wanted me to come to Jablonec to live with them. I believe my Bubbe and Zeide knew about it but did not tell me, leaving it to my father and his new bride to break the news to me. Looking back now, I cannot understand why I did not anticipate this, but I was truly shocked when I was told about it. Just a day or two before, my father asked Anne how she preferred me to call her. She said she wanted to be called "Mother" or, in German, "Mutti". I never did. I just did not call her anything. I developed a style of completely avoiding any titles. I would simply say, "May I do this," or, "May I go there," or "Would you please do this for me?" and so on. But I never used the word "Mutti." She must have noticed my reluctance but never brought it up again. I, on the other hand, believed that after their short visit nothing would change.
Of course, I was allowed to finish my school year and went to Jablonec at the beginning of the summer vacation. Anne's behavior towards me was otherwise correct in every way, and not for a minute do I intend to place any blame on her. I was just very nicely settled, with my friends and a loving family around me. My Aunt Klara and Uncle Meir came with their family twice a year for Pesach and during the summer. My uncles also came and went, and it was a lively household where the doors were never closed. I also had a group of very fine friends and my mind could not accept leaving all this behind for something new and unknown. True, I knew my father. He was always good to me and I loved him dearly. I would have loved to be near him and with him, but not away from my extended family.
I must mention I would miss my friends very much. Foremost among them were Hershi (Harry) Zicherman, Ludvik Weiss, David (Dudi) Weiss of Izka and Mendel Stern of Chust. Our friendship endured and is alive and well to this very day, with Harry Zicherman's friendship being the most important one. Our paths crossed many times and, in the end, we wound up as partners from 1960 to our retirement in 1984. As was our friendship, so was our partnership - an excellent one. We were in constant contact, even during the difficult years of World War II. We were often separated but always somehow managed to meet again. It is not my intention to take away anything from my many other friends, for we all formed a closely knit group whose motto was: "One for all and all for one." However, it was Harry and I who, through destiny and probably our mutual devotion to each other, played such an important role in each others lives.
I prolonged my stay in Volove as long as I could, but ultimately the time came for me to take my leave. I said my goodbyes to all my friends, to the hills I loved so much and even to the river I fished and swam in, to the football field I played on and to all I had to leave behind. I kept only my memories.
I kissed my Zeide and Bubbe. My Aunt Fanny took me to the bus for the trip to Chust. I remember I stood that early morning on our veranda (a huge balcony with large windows all around) and looked at the Kucera, that tall proud, beautiful hill, for the last time - not knowing when or if I would ever see it again. I stopped at my grandparents' house in Chust for one or two days before continuing on my long journey to Jablonec. My Uncle Srul Yankel took me to the station. I said goodbye to all my aunts and uncles, who were at home at the time, and also to my cousins Jeno and Bubi Pikkel, who were both excellent football players. On several subsequent visits to Chust, they took me to the stadium to see them play. They were semi-professionals who played with a registered team.
The train, an express one at that, took from 4:00 p.m. to about 2:00 p.m. the next day to arrive, with a change of trains in Pardubice. While it was not my first train ride, it was my first trip without adult supervision. My Uncle Srul Yankel scared me half to death with the many instructions he gave me, half of which I am sure I forgot by the time I boarded the train. "Do not do this and do not do that. Do not stand near the door, do not lean out the window. Make sure you get off the train in Pardubice and ask which one to board for Jablonec. And do not forget to get off in Jablonec." The instructions were endless. In fact, I had absolutely no problem getting to my destination, where, to my surprise, my father and Uncle Dudye were waiting. Jablonec (nad Nison) or, in German, Gablonz (an der Neisse), meaning Jablonec over the river Nisa, in German - Neisse, was much different from Volove. With a population of about 35,000, mostly Germans, it was part of the so-called Sudetenland, the land of the German-speaking population, which totaled about three and a half million. The only Czechs were government employees and included the police. For instance, one middle school served the Czech students, one building for both the boys and girls in separate classes. The Germans, on the other hand, had several middle schools with separate buildings for boys and girls. They also had a Gymnasium, or high schooL while Czech students had to travel to Liberec to a Gymnasium. I describe this only to show the population's composition, which later played a decisive role in Hitler's plans for the destruction of Czechoslovakia and eventually led to World War II. When I arrived in 1934 though, everything was as yet peaceful, but not for long.
Jablonec was a highly prosperous city and was the center of world-famous costume jewelry and crystal glass industries. These were also the businesses my father was engaged in - an exporter of costume jewelry and hand cut crystal to foreign countries. He had difficult beginnings but, by the time I arrived, he was getting well established. He had good suppliers under contract and his exports were expanding. His customers included such names as Gimbel's Department Stores in New York and Cohn and Rosenberg, one of the most substantial wholesalers and the manufacturers of "Coro" brand costume jewelry. With the surrounding independent towns being practically the suburbs of Jablonec, the city was quite impressive in size and beauty, with a new and distinctive City Hall right smack in the center of the town. The day after my arrival, the first thing I got was a new haircut, a modern one. I also got some new clothes, shoes and a new school bag. My life was off to a new start. I was registered in the Czech schooL so I had no difficulties there. School was yet a few weeks away.
On my first day in school, I caused quite a commotion by not knowing exactly which class to attend. In Volove, the lower and middle schools had four classes each. In Jablonec the elementary had five years and the middle school had four, so that the first grade of middle school in Volove was the fifth grade of elementary school in Jablonec. In my confusion, I walked into a class one grade higher than I should have. It took the principal and teacher a while to sort this out. After my mixed-up start, I had no great problems in school. But at home my troubles started, slowly at first. I probably could have avoided them had I not had a mind of my own.
We had no maid at that stage, as we were only three persons. There was help from the janitor to bring coal up from the basement. In winter we used coal for heating, while we cooked with natural gas. Anne, as I will refer to her in my reflections, told me once that it would be nice of me if I helped her with the dishes. She suggested that I dry them, as her brothers did at their home. I agreed, but I never intended it to be a steady obligation. But Anne insisted. I cooperated for a while, but then I told my father I would no longer dry the dishes. For the sake of harmony, he asked me to keep on with it, which I refused. On the next occasion I told her that drying dishes was not my job and she stopped talking to me. It bothered me, but I was not giving in. On Sunday, she burst out at my father, demanding to know why he did not tell me to help her. I responded by telling her that I was only twelve and a half years old. I had school homework, I belonged to the Boy Scouts and had meetings to attend. I played football with the Jewish Blue-White team, and needed time for practice. My days were full and besides I had not done any housework for my mother or my Bubbe and would not do it for Anne either. Anne left me alone for a while, but things did not go smoothly between us. Father was often away. When home, he was preoccupied with his business. Once, it just happened that when I had to leave for football practice, Anne sent me to pick up something for her. Then when I had a scout meeting, I had another errand to run. I was missing my football practice and that was a "no-no." I could find an excuse once or twice, but I was in danger of being kicked off the team. Luckily, with the fall season ending, football practice was also suspended until spring.
On January 1, 1935, my half-brother Thomas (Jewish name Salomon - after Anne's father) was born. We had only a two bedroom apartment, not like the nine large rooms we had in Volove. Anne decided that the crib for Tommy should be placed in my room, notwithstanding the fact that the master bedroom was very large while my room was just a normal size. There was still a separate living and dining room, so there were other suitable places, at least at the start, to place the crib and not disturb my peace. My father finally stepped in and it was decided to put the crib in the big bedroom.
A few months before Tommy was born, something interesting occurred for which, to this very day, I have no explanation. One night I overheard my father talking to Anne in a louder voice than usual. I did not bother to listen and went to bed. I fell asleep fairly quickly and was dreaming that somebody shook me gently. I opened my eyes, half-asleep, and there was Anne standing over me. I sat up, and she sat down next to me on my bed. She embraced me and kept kissing me on my head. Her tears flowed freely. I did not know what happened. I thought something was wrong with my father, but Anne just kept on crying without answering my questions. I finally ran out to the big bedroom. Father was in bed. I did not know whether he was alive. I shook him not too gently and he woke up, frightened at having been so suddenly awakened. It turned out that everybody was well, in good health at least. What prompted Anne to come to my room and cry on my shoulders? Was it remorse? I do not know. Nothing changed and life went on as before.
I had an added duty to prepare for my Bar Mitzvah, which was coming up in the spring of 1935. The Cantor of our Temple prepared me for it with two weekly sessions of about an hour, together with another boy whose Bar Mitzvah fell just about one or two weeks later than mine. By the time my hour of manhood came, I knew my Haftorah almost by heart and everything went smoothly. In those days, there were no great celebrations as nowadays. Only relatives and close friends were invited and it was all done at home on a Sunday afternoon. The gifts were accordingly also modest. My nicest gift was a new Doxa watch from my father.
In the summer of 1935, I traveled to Volove as I did every summer thereafter, to spend my vacation with my Bubbe and Zeide and whoever else was home. Of course my Aunt Fanny was always there. They were always happy to have me. Being reunited with my best friends was always a joyous occasion for me, something I looked forward to from year to year. As usual, my summers in Volove, without obligations at school or at home, were the highlights of my teenage years. My friends and I roamed the forests, played football, ping-pong and volleyball, went fishing, and even chased some girls. Nothing serious, though. As usual it was very hard for me to say goodbye.
While spending my summer vacation in Volove, I learned the outcome of a lengthy court case involving my Zeide's brother Noah of Prislop.
The story begins in 1928. Besides engaging in the activities already described, Uncle Noah also owned some forests and occasionally sold logs to the Goldner Brothers of Kosice. He did so in 1928, selling the Goldners a quantity of logs F.O.B. Chust. The logs were to be floated on the River Rika at Noah's expense and risk.
Normally this would have been a routine sale with no complications. The logs were cut in the fall and winter of 1928-29 and floated down the river, where the Goldners' agents took possession and signed the proper receipts to certify the quality and quantity.
This was, however, the year 1929, the beginning of the Depression. By the time the Goldners received their merchandise in Szolnok, Hungary, prices had dropped considerably. The Goldners promptly offered to pay 95,000 Kcs. instead of the 110,000 Kcs. due. Uncle Noah refused. My Zeide knew the Goldners well and, after a lengthy phone conversation, agreed to implore his brother to accept 100,000 Kcs. in full settlement.
Noah refused. He was very stubborn under normal circumstances, and especially stubborn when he knew he was right. The logs were of good quality and there was no reason for him to discount a good and valid contract.
My Zeide's pleas fell on deaf ears. Noah's stubbornness was not exclusive to him alone. Stubbornness was the registered trademark of all the Friedman clan, including yours truly. My Zeide was no exception, but he knew when precedence should be given to common sense.
For six years the trial went on with numerous postponements. Every time the judge urged the parties to settle, the Goldners offered less and less. Expenses mounted and Uncle Noah remained Uncle Noah, stubborn as ever. He finally gave in to my Zeide's pleas and cries, and the suit was settled out of court for a mere 35,000 Kcs. One more person said to my Zeide: "Shmiel Itzik, I wish I had listened to you before I started the court proceedings."
My Zeide told me the whole story, part of which I had known before, adding this comment: "Tibale, remember when you are on your own, your first loss will be your best loss."
I learned a valuable lesson, a lesson they do not teach in college and a lesson that served me well during my years in business.
Another school year started, one in which I would finish my middle school education. It was time for me to start thinking about what course to take. There were many choices: Gymnasium (high school) - four years, Business School - two years, Business Academy - four years, School of Forestry or Textile School - four years. All except the Textile School were available in Jablonec. Well, I still had a full year to think about it and in any case the final decision was not likely to be mine alone. Politically, dark clouds were starting to shade the peaceful life of Czechoslovakia, especially the Sudeten with its predominantly German population. Previously unknown leaders began to emerge: Konrad Henlein, the head of the newly formed National Socialistische Deutsche Partei (National Socialist German Party) with Franck second-in-command. With orders directly from Hitler, the Party faithful started a series of disturbances throughout the territories. They had many demands, some of them justified - to be sure, such as an appropriate percentage of government positions in the civil service, the use of the German language in federal offices, and the appointment of German judges in courts of the Sudeten territories. But the list of demands was never ending.
The Jewish and Czech populations were not yet unduly perturbed by all these political wranglings. They saw them as disputes between two political factions, eventually to be solved to everyone's satisfaction without outside interference.
I finished middle school in 1936 and went off to Volove. I came back two weeks earlier than usual, since a decision was not yet made as to what further education would be best for me. The decision came from my father. He decided in favor of a one year course in a German Preparatory Business School. I would lose a year, as this was not credited to any other institution I might attend later. However, it afforded a good education in the German language plus a basic foundation in business that would be useful in the future.
So, 1936-37 I again spent in Jablonec. Not much had changed in my life, except I grew up and became somewhat wiser. I still had no great feelings for Anne or my half-brother Tommy, as we had our differences. At one point I had even more serious conflicts with Anne that troubled me so much that I decided to leave home. Without money for bus fare and not daring to ask for any, I decided Volove was too far away. I set out to walk to Liberec, only 12 kilometers away, where my Uncle Dudye lived. It was quite cold that November or December of 1936. I took a calculated risk, since I did not know for certain if Dudye would be home. He often traveled. Luck was with me. He took me in, of course, and let my father know where I was. My father came the next day. We had a long talk, at times with Dudye present. In the end, as I knew I would, I went home.
It was then that I also had a chance to talk with Dudye. He, as I already mentioned, had a textile business and was successful at it. He had told me several times earlier that he would not mind taking me into his business after I finished my studies. Agreeing with both my father and me, he wanted me to further my education before I entered business. He suggested I attend a textile school, particularly recommending the one in Brno, Moravia. After long deliberations, the idea grew on me, but before agreeing completely I first wanted to hear from my Aunt Klara. I wrote her that I would like to come to visit her in Josina for my summer vacation to talk it over. She was happy to extend the invitation and subsequently decided that this course of action would probably be the best for me. I had no stomach for the lumber industry nor for my father's business. The idea of becoming a merchant was instilled in me by my Zeide. I could see the advantage of being a businessman compared to being a professional such as a lawyer or doctor. Times have changed, but it took a long time. Nobody nowadays belittles a profession--be it lawyer, doctor, accountant or any of the many other choices in research, technology, electronics or the literally hundreds of others now available to members of the younger generations willing to follow these routes.
By the summer of 1936, I was accepted in the DSK Football Club (Deutscher Sports Klub), the only one under Jewish management and the only one willing to accept Jewish players. I still had problems attending practice, but this was finally solved when my father promised definitely to make that time available to me. Henceforth, if Anne had chores for me I just ignored her as I had done previously, but now I did it with official sanction from my father.
In the summer of 1937, I traveled to Jasina to spend my vacation with my Aunt Klara and Uncle Meir, who was a very friendly man. I felt as much at home as I was in Volove. Klara just started building a new house when I arrived. The outside was practically finished, and I spent considerable time at the building site helping with anything I could. I applied to the Textile School in Brno and was accepted. The only thing left for me to do was to go home, pack up whatever I needed and leave for Brno and a new life.
There is an old proverb in Czech that also exists in other languages. Roughly translated it says: "Man proposes, God disposes." That is exactly what happened to my well-intended plans. They came to an end on the 15th of March, 1939.
Looking at my life in Jablonec, one would probably get the impression of great hardship. This is not so. There were periods of friction, but there were also long periods of tranquility. Could the friction have been avoided? Possibly so. If I could have accepted Anne and shown her my acceptance, I am sure things would have been much different. Anne, on the other hand, could have met me halfway and not tried to impose her ideas and will on me with such suddenness and forcefulness. After all, coming from a different world than hers, I was used to a different lifestyle.
Anne grew up with her four brothers in a German-Jewish environment. Her brothers were not interested in sports and she did not consider it as important a part of one's life as I did. To me, sports and especially soccer were integral to my well-being. More understanding from her in this respect would have certainly helped to overcome many other problems.