Lodz, 8 August, 1939     

My devoted brother, as well as beloved nephew, and niece, Sol
Zissman,

I wrote you a long letter three weeks ago to which I cannot yet
expect an answer, and now I am writing you a second long letter.
 You will wonder, Sol, what causes me to write you such long
letters recently, and so often.  So, I would call to your
attention that, first of all, I am not working and have enough
time to chat with you, as one does with one close to him. 
Secondly, I received a letter from Rose today which I will
answer promptly today.  At the same time, I am also writing a
letter to you.  

Sol, although I have already written and made everything clear
to you in my prior letter, nevertheless I don't tire, Sol, of
taking advantage of and plaguing you...  It's possible, Sol,
that my letters are too long and too bothersome for you there...
 However, that's my fault due to the fact that I never lack for
subject matter, for material to write to you.  On the other
hand, when I am writing to someone else, I never have anything
to write about, so I handle everything hastily, short and sweet.
 And when the occasion arises for me to write a letter to you, I
want you to understand me better, to become more deeply familiar
with my life, with my soul.

Lying before me is a letter from Rose and a letter of yours. 
Rose's letter expresses her troubles to me.  She painfully
describes and also portrays her predicament for me, that she is
poor, is supporting (her husband's) 75-year-old mother, and had
to trade her old automobile for a new one which her husband
would be able to drive to California to recover because he feels
weak.  Yes, Sol, I did not pause at anything (she wrote) except
as to her husband being weak...  The way I see it, Sol, Rose
should have married a healthy person, a physical
specimen...because she herself is so delicate, so weak, like my
Rivkele...  Well, Sol, write me the truth about Rose and her
husband.  Obviously, she should not be aware that I inquired of
you about her and about the state of Ted's health.  

I can write you that, two weeks ago, I wrote a letter of appeal
to your sisters, to Ruth and to Rose.  I don't know how they
will read and interpret my letter there.  I also don't know
whether they will receive it at the address at which I wrote to
them.  I wrote to the following address:  Marshal (sic) Samler,
5040 Lincoln Avenue.  I don't have a newer address for them.  I
also enclosed with their letter a letter from your father to me
written sixteen years ago from which you there may become
convinced that your uncle was not always a taker, but also a
giver.  

Perhaps you were not yet in this world when I was always
accustomed to helping your father out.  Once, during my
engagement, I took off my gold watch and gave it to your father
so that he could save his life.  He pawned it at a pawn shop,
and I had the pleasure of redeeming it.  In that respect, I am
not seeking any justice, any quid pro quo.  At the time, I did
what I understood to be correct, and I have no regrets about
what I did.  Would that your mother were now living.  Things
would be quite different.  It irritates me a lot that fate
decreed that your father would completely break off his
relationship with me.  I am not a bad friend of his.  I wish
everything good and much wealth for him.  However, his treatment
of you children gave me such experience about life that I simply
had an internal struggle in order to remain "sober" (unmarried)
for the rest of my life...  

You can characterize me there as you see fit; you can make a
judgment about me there as you see fit...  However, from my
point of view, one thing is clear.  Just as I had the right to
bring children into the world, so do I have the right to steer
my children onto the path of life.  Meanwhile, we are living
here in Poland under abnormal conditions.  It's unnecessary for
me to write what sort of life, and under what circumstances, we
are living here because, after all, you more or less are
informed by the newspapers.  However, Sol, I will only say one
thing.  More than once I have been envious of Aunt Malke, may
she rest in peace, for achieving her rest...and it's over.  

I think that I once wrote you that my life no longer has any
great value.  I have no expectations from this world.  While I
am alive, I live only for my children.  My only wish from life
is that I be deemed worthy of giving my only daughter's hand in
marriage.  I have a sort of premonition that I will not achieve
the age of 75 of my father, may he rest in peace, nor the age of
65 of my mother, may she rest in peace.  In Poland these days,
one is considered an old man at the age of 55, and every year
that one lives longer than that is considered a prize.

Therefore, dear and devoted Sol, don't be angry with me and
don't be surprised at me because I am so stubborn and torment
you and plague you with my tearful letters to you there.  I
suspect, Sol, that my writing is unnecessary because you know
your uncle so well.  My begging will also not be of help in this
instance because, without begging, you have more than once
helped your uncle in a time of need.  In my earlier letter, I
wrote you that I have cancelled your "note," and you have the
right to pay or not to pay.  Yes, Sol, this (i.e., my appeal to
you) was my only salvation, and I grabbed hold of it.  

You should understand that a young man who goes out with a lady,
with a girl, for about a year already wants to know whether
going out will bring some benefit.  If I had seen that something
could be done without money, I would have made a decision long
ago.  However, since the man is a poor laborer who earns barely
enough to cover his expenses, he can't save anything for the
future.

It's difficult, Sol, to explain everything on paper.  In such a
situation, Sol, you have to have confidence in your uncle.  It
should also awaken a feeling in you there of pity for your uncle
who is also a devoted father and who is prepared to sacrifice
his life for his child.  What can I do about my being helpless,
about my having no one other than you, Sol, to whom to pour out
my heart?  You there are the only one who can and must help me
at this time, although I know very well, Sol, that I am placing
a burden on your budget.  Your expenses may be more than your
income, but your compassion outweighs your slender means.

I have never made so bold and so blunt a request of you.  The
times have resulted in this.  Thirty years ago, my mind was not
able to conceive when you were still a child that I would have
to stand and beg for mercy like a beggar at the door...

It seems to me that I have already written you that in sending
money to Poland, one has to be smart and businesslike because a
gold dollar has a value of nine zloytes and a few groshen to us
here, while the central bank pays only five zloytes and
twenty-five groshen for a paper dollar.  I know of many people
who send gold dollars directly in order to get 90% more for the
money.  There are also many people who buy Polish zloytes in an
American bank and send them directly to Poland.  However, Sol,
when you are prepared to send (it), you will well inform
yourself there.  If not, ask me how to handle the matter.  

Heartfelt regards for you, your wife and dear son, Leonard, from
me and from my children and whole family.  Please answer
promptly to my two long letters.  With respect,

		Your uncle,

		Wolf Lewkowicz


All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.