Frank Family Chronicles
Early Years in America - The Immigrant Experience
Leonard James Weiss
As a child I had no idea of what my parents experienced when they left their families in Europe and came to America. I knew they spoke with an accent in a language that I did not understand. As I grew older I was able to comprehend a little Yiddish.
At some point they realized that I was able to follow their conversation in Yiddish and they switched to Polish. This change solved their problem.
It is still inconceivable to me that so many people of all ages would choose to leave their parents, siblings, relatives and friends with little likelihood that they would ever see or speak to them again. Today immigrants can call their former homes or hop a plane and visit their homeland at will. In my parents' day these things were impossible.
From time to time we would receive mail with strange looking stamps on the envelope. My parents refereed to brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces and cousins from “Heim.” I cannot recall them referring to Poland, it was always home. I guess that was how they remembered their lives before coming to America. To further complicate things, they were born in Austria in an area that later became part of Poland.
Most of our family came to America after World War I. During the Depression, which started in 1929, letters from the States made it clear that the streets of America were not paved in gold. The flow of immigrants dried up. In addition, Congress tightened the immigration laws and it became much more difficult to board a ship and to arrive here as a legal immigrant.
About 1937 the pace of arrivals started to pick up. Many of our cousins arrived illegally, frequently taking the circuitous route from Europe to Canada and then winding their way into this country. A number of family members ended up in my parents’ home on their first night in New York. We were sort of a way station. They seemed to arrive at night and I recall waking up many mornings and seeing a strange face in the house. We all know what happened to those who stayed in Europe. Some people made their way to what was then called Palestine.
It seems strange to me now that growing up as a child of immigrants, I cannot remember any conversations regarding their life in Europe. Unfortunately, my attempts to find out what their lives had been like came too late and were half hearted. Betty Binik was one of the few people who discussed what living in Poland was like.
At this point those who would have been able to provide the European experience are gone. I deeply regret that I didn’t take the time to record the story of their lives. In the final analysis, we are fortunate that our forebears had the strength of will to uproot themselves from their homes and families, never see them again and come to this great country.