Letters from William Z. Spiegelman

Letter to Dora Spiegelman, on vacation in California with their daughter, Ruth Joy, aka "the rascal."

July 6, 1928
2137 Cropsey Ave
Brooklyn, N.Y.

My Dear Dora [Spiegelman]:

As I spoke to you over the transcontinental telephone last night I should not write to you tonight, particularly so since in all your letters and telegrams you have not written anything at all.

I mean you have not written the real thing. However, it is Friday evening and I want to make sure that you will get your check for next week in time.

I just came home after having dinner at Buzi's and my ears are full of the WPA and the Convention. You have no doubt read the [Jewish Daily] Bulletin and know all about the excitement at Pittsburgh and Lepsky's tragic-comic realization. I need a real rest after these trying days.

I do hope that you have already regained your composure, at least that you remember your home address and know the difference between a 6 and a 9. I also do beseech you to please number the pages of your letters so that I am in a position to read them.

Your statement that in the future you "will read every word" of mine may sound well but is not so good. Why? What happened to make you realize it so quickly? And then, is it not of the same category as your similar expression of "this time only"?

I certainly have no intention to interfere with your vacation or pleasure but if you wish to come back sooner than you originally planned, do I have to tell you that you will be welcome? I hope you will admit that I am in no position whatsoever to make the decision for you when I do not know what is the exact position which prompts you to make such a statement. Can you enlighten me on the subject with as many details as you have? I mean bare facts without embellishments.

Why don't you write me about the various entertainments which are being given in honor of the hospitable Eastern matron? How about some gossip, dirt, etc? Take it all in, kid, for this is the "salt of the earth." Pearl writes me (please thank her for her kind letter which I received today; I will write to her and Ike at a latter date) that you have developed intellectually, won't you show me what you can do? But please write the address correctly and, pray, number the pages.

I have already exceeded my usual four pages but we'll continue as I am in a chatty mood and there's no one to talk to. Before I will retire for a much-needed rest I will, therefore, write a few more paragraphs and take up with you a few more matters.

I received today another letter from that girl Jachcia from Jerusalem (don't be jealous! that is the only feminine mail I received so far). I think I told you what Rabbi Gold related to me in behalf of Mrs. Gold who just returned from Jerusalem. It is heart-breaking. What a fine kid she was and what a d----d shame. I also received a letter from her father in Los Angeles. I have written to a fiend of mine in C. Perhaps he may be able to obtain for them a permit. But since you are a Pacific Coast Sponsor, wouldn't you write to her brothers Abe and Sam to do something (in the nature of cash) for them? Mike, as you know, when I spoke to him before your train departed, laughed at the matter. By the way, did he have nothing of interest to say during the entire trip? Did you observe complete discretion?

What is your opinion of the young Mr. Shyer who called on you the other evening together with Mrs. S? He wants to marry a girl via the Yeshiva College and has indicated to me (the letter from the California Jobbing was from him) about his dilemma in a poem in bad Hebrew prose which gave me a pain.

The Yeshiva arrangement will in all probability be renewed but so far Hershel is still bluffing. I will know next week.

How is the rascal's health? Is she growing? Is she enriching her vocabulary? Kiss her a thousand times and double the amount for yourself and do not write but talk on paper.

Yours as ever
Wolf

Regards and best wishes to all!

Letter to Judge Otto A. Rosalsky, dated January 19, 1933.

My dear Judge Rosalsky:

Enclosed is a suggestion (original and copy) for your radio address during the Kashruth Association's program on Sunday, January 22nd, between 3:15 and 4 P.M. in the course of the "Foreign Hour" over station WOR, New York City.

I should appreciate greatly if you will make any corrections or additions you may deem necessary and mail the copy to me in care of this address so that I am in its possession tomorrow morning when I have to send it up to the studio for release to the press on Monday morning. Mr. Samuel Rottenberg, President of the Association, and Rabbi Wolf Gold will be the other speakers. Each speaker will be allowed approximately 14 minutes for his presentation.

Please remember that the broadcast will take place at the New York studios of WOR (not in Newark), located at 1140 Broadway, corner 40th Street, New York City. Mr. Rottenberg and myself will be there to greet you. It is essential that you arrive not later than 3:05 P.M.

Because of the fact that it is a nation-wide hook-up, it was necessary to make the address as broad and general as possible, leaving out all sectional references as, undoubtedly, many non-Jews will be listening in.

Faithfully yours,

William Z. Spiegelman
Publicity Director

WZS: FW
Encl.

Letter to Ruth Spiegelman, dated July 18, 1946, on the stationary of the Palomino Lodge, Ivry North, Quebec.

Palomino Lodge
Ivry North
Quebec

July 18, 1946

Dear Ruth,

Mother and I have been exploring the Land of Oz,* the heritage of the Canadian French, since last Sunday. (* The phrase has its origin in Job 1:1. The Hebrew means: land of woods or land of contemplation.) We spent Monday in Montreal, dinned with the Pietrusluas, arranged for the renovation of Mother's Persian lamb coat, bought two suits for Wolf at very reduced rates, some sweaters and left by bus for the Hotel Vermont, St. Agathe.

Upon arrival (10:30 p.m.) at the Vermont, rediscovered that the hotel has too noisy (Mother, as you know, is a bit fastidious) and, in addition, that the room which has been reserved for us was not available immediately. In the meantime they offered us a tiny enclave (like the territory offered by the British for the Jewish State in Palestine) on the second floor with plenty of steps to climb. Indignant, Mother adamantly rejected the proposal. We got our deposit back and started out in search of a refuge.

With only a small investment in taxi fares we found shelter in a small inn in the center of the village, on the banks of the lake. Contrasted with the heat and humidity of the boiling Metropolis we thought the place was paradise. After a cool and restful night we discovered, at breakfast, that we landed in Galicia on the St. Lawrence. Soup and herring and noise and familiarity galore. Not for this did we leave the truly serene landscape of E. 9th Street, your determined Mother contended. She was right and I agreed.

We strolled to the village again. Mother found that the men of French Canada were good looking but not so smart but the women, well, they are clever and not so charming. With the aid of Mother's French and my "money [is] no object" attitude we secured the services of several taxi drivers who had a holiday (they waited for us a whole year and we could not let them down) taxiing us from one hotel to another until we reached the Lodge. Like the Indians who preceded Mother's folks in her home state, Mother exclaimed: Alabama! So we settled down here (at the rate of $35 per meal per person; very reasonable indeed) and intend to remain until August 4 or 5.

Now, from the point of view of its natural beauty this place truly has no equal. Not in vain did the French, British and American armies fight over it in the dim past before the Atomic Age. Situated at an elevation of 2,500 feet, the landscape is a mosaic of shapely mountains covered by stately [illegible], firs and pines, cut through, as if by a master designer, by an interlocking system of large and small lakes which give fragrance and refreshing coolness to the transparent atmosphere beneath a high-ceiling sky. No trace of humidity here, no suggestion of heat even when the thermostat [sic] stands at 90.

How much I (and certainly Mother, who gets lazy at a terrific rate to clean up before before going away . . .) was in need of escape from the city you will appreciate from the fact that when I played Saturday afternoon two chess games with Mr. [illegible] I lost both ignominiously. . . . And so I seized the serenity and coolness of this enchanting spot like a weary travelers seizes upon an oasis in the desert.

Since we arrived here on Tuesday afternoon I have been doing nothing but relaxing and it was not an easy task. I had to work hard with muscle and will power, to do so. Now, Thursday evening, I feel ready to enjoy our vacation.

Well, that is all I can say about this place. You will note that I said nothing about Mrs. Kaufman's culinary arts (Mother beats her to shreds!) for for she feeds her docile thinly Canadianized or Americanized clientele with the scenery. Besides, in matters of diet Mother can -- and probably will -- do a better job of description.

How have you been getting on? I was glad to hear that your first exam was satisfactory and that you are keeping pace with the program. Getting to know people -- judge them correctly -- and places is equally as important -- and sometimes even more -- as book knowledge. This is, however, a task which requires circumspection and experience. That story of your dispute with the Protestant Minister was interesting. You would do better, however, not to discuss Christianity objectively with a Christian Minister. They are not -- and cannot be -- objective on this point.

Mother is waiting for a game of cards so I will conclude this too long epistle with love and kisses from Mother and Dad.

P.S. Remember the question about two men in the desert? Well, Arthur Koestler has an interesting article on a similar theme in the June [issue of] Commentary. You'll perhaps find it at Hillel's.

Letter to Ruth J. Spiegelman, dated July 23, 1947, written on the letterhead of Land and Life: A National Magazine Devoted to Land Reclamation and Agricultural Development in Palestine and the Middle East, published by the Jewish National Fund.

Dear Ruth,

Our freighter has been delayed for a day or so. That's why we are able to make it. And so, at 3 p.m. today we are setting sail on this epic journey to Eretz Israel in a most turbulent but entertaining time. Against the doings and curfews of the British we are fortified by my correspondent credentials for the Nation for which I have to write a series of articles.

Mother is sending you a letter in a separate envelop. She is thrilled but calm. I do hope that she will prove to be a good sailor and really enjoy seeing the world. Judith has been here since Sunday evening and will return to [Camp] Massad this afternoon after we sail. She was a great help in packing, etc.

Now, darling, I know that I do not have to give you instructions. You know my love and thoughts for you. Bear them in mind. Be well, he happy, make the most of your gifts and talents. Do not worry. Write to us and Judith and David every week. You are the captain! [Hebrew word] on September 24.

Loves and kisses,

Dad