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Note: In 1843 a child was born in southern Russia, and was namedShlomo Meir in the local synagogue. He went to cheder, and whenhe was 18 he married a girl he never saw until they were underthe canopy. Even then, all he saw through the veil was a darkthin face.Shlomo and one of his friends came up with a good idea. Theytook over a run-down place on the caravan route from Odessa toMoscow. Picture a country with no cars or trucks, and very fewrailroads, but with busy seaports like Odessa, from which goodsto Moscow were carried in horse-drawn carts and wagons.Obviously, such a trip would take several days. Shlomo and hisfriend put up the drivers for the night, gave them good hotmeals, and provided shelter and fodder for the horses. In themorning they would continue their trip, and everybody was happy.Things went smoothly, and Shlomo and Esther were building afamily, a good business, and a future.A friend of the local governor saw the opportunity to take overa good thing, and Shlomo and his friend were given 24 hours toget out. Shlomo later asked "Did you ever try to sell a cow in24 hours?"Back they came to Odessa, where Shlomo got a job on the dockshandling cargo as a day laborer. He could see no future here,and in desperation, picked up with his growing family and sailedto Palestine.They tried to find a way of life there, only to find that thePromised Land was all sand and swamp and no bread. Opportunitieswere scarce and disease was rampant. The risks were too great,and the defeated family returned to Odessa and a life of quietdesperation.As time went on, the children grew up and started to build theirown families. Inevitably, the decision was made to try to get toAmerica. Mostly two at a time, starting in the 1900's, thefamily slowly gathered in Philadelphia, and some soon moved toNew York to seek greater opportunites.By 1910 Zelig, Louis, Julius and tantes Hannah, Katie, Ida,Dubtze and Fannie were all Americans, raising their families andeducating them.Shlomo and Esther lived with their youngest daughter Fannie, whowas my closest relative. Esther became very seriously ill, andafter surgery at age 72, was given 6 months to live, but shetook 13 / more years, and lived till 86.Shlomo, an old man now, but still witty and full of stories ofthe old days in the shtetl, would make his own wine, enough formost of the family. Twice a day in Richmond Hill, where we livedin a quiet residential area of Queens, he would walk to thelocal synagogue for services. One day, in the spring of 1930, hewas coming home from shul after morning services, when he wasaccosted by a corner hanger-on who pantomimed that he wanted alight for his cigarette. Solomon, who smoked, gave him a match,and the hoodlum lit it and pushed it into his beard. Solomonmanaged to put it out, and got home safely, but badly shaken.In his 98th year, this lovable old man, full of humor, wisdom,and memories, slipped while sitting down in a chair and brokehis hip. Eight days later, beyond the ability of medical scienceto help, he died.
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