Chicago Jewish South Side, 1959: Sunday Brunch Battlefield…by Robert M. Katzman
Robert M. Katzman’s Amazing Story: http://www.differentslants.com/?p=355
© February 16, 2014
Pots and pans flew
From my Mom toward my Dad
Grey metal whizzing through the air
Once a sharp ice tray shot by my small
Olive-toned nine-year-old face
Just missing me
Did she ever hit him?
He’d never say
Good thing she was a lousy shot
And he never returned fire
Our kitchen was No Mans Land
In 1959
8700 South
Down the street from Rexall’s Drugs
Where I stole Chunky candy bars
Where my Mom sent me
 To buy her packs of Pall Mall cigarettes
A mile west of CVS High School
A trade school
Where they taught kids to fix airplane engines
Three blocks east of Caldwell grammar school
Five blocks east of Stony Avenue
All the teachers: Irish
Many of the kids: Jews
Too many damn holidays
To get any kinda decent education
Fights on the gravel playground, daily
“No! No! I didn’t kill Christ guys! Honest!”
But the tough pink-faced Catholic boys–
They were certain I was a lying Jew
A secret money-changer from the Temple
Conspiring to kill their God
Blood on my hands?
I couldn’t see it
But my Mom and Dad
They’d fight over a ticking clock
A smirk on a face
Cold sales and no customers
Dirty dishes stacked by the sink
My heart-sinking bad report card
A damn check for this/a damn check for that
Proving that I was an Evil Child
For every reason and for no reason at all
I’d take cover under the breakfast nook
My older sister Bonnie
A taller dark-eyed beauty
Her thick brown hair, sprayed into concrete
Always fled the carnage
Searching for the normal people
Normal always just out of her reach
She never found normal
Half a century later
She died
Still wondering where it was
Then came the Sunday Cease Fire
In honor of the Jewish brunch
All four of us there
Thank God for the Lox
Yiddish slices of Nova
Pink and undulating on the long oval plate
Bricks of white cream cheese
Smoldering tan and yellow bagels
Aromatic Hill’s Brothers coffee
Real cream on the table
Real sugar in a bowl
Never any American cheese
What the hell was that, anyway?
A small school of smoked fish
Dark, golden and scaled
Swimming in fish oil
Black eyes unseeing
I had to learn to find the needle-like bones
To eat the treasure within
Worth the work
I was expert at it
Such a luxury
Grandson of immigrants
But I still knew what “good” was
My mother could cook
She could probably kill
But regardless, she sure could cook
I remember her fried eggs
Three big yellow eyes in a field of fluffy white
Sizzling in the pan, edges turning black
The chicken-y smell of schmaltz in the air
Then a big plate to split up the bounty
A fresh rain of black pepper
Freckling those blind yellow eyes
I can still smell the exotic pepper
Salt?
Salt on e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g
Sometimes
Beef-Fry crackling in a wide frying pan
Jewish bacon
But it wasn’t actual bacon
Bacon was a sin
The Christian houses
Crucified Christs hanging on their walls
Reeked of it
And we weren’t them
In 1959
We still colored within the lines
When it came to so-tempting
Crunchy crispy bacon
Dessert?
A mysterious Turkish treasure
Oily sesame halvah
Resting like a brown chocolate brick
On pale wax paper
Sometimes with pistachios
Sometimes with almonds
Always with heartburn
But also
Since we were Americans now
Red Jell-O
Yellow Jell-O
Purple Jell-O
So innocent looking
Until we found out how it was made
The Sunday Brunch Truce
Lasted all day
The edible Sabbath
All of us too full to fight
Each quietly contemplating our
Coming resumption of violence
I was the last to run
Five years later
Leaving my angry mother
Still raging and alone in her silent house
To curse God
Blaming Him for her misery
But even God was somewhere else
******************************
(more about the author)
www.oldzines.com — 100,000 magazines back to 1576 for birthdays, etc in Downtown Skokie, Il One of 4 remaining stores in the USA, and very cool to see. Incredible business gifts! 50,000 international posters, all $5 & $10 each
www.Differentslants.com — My non-fiction story site. I’m a Chicago writer with 5 books in print and over 6,000 sold. No charge and I get hired by organizations to read my stories and poetry. Currently seeking representation for more speaking oppotunities.
www.FightingWordsPubco.com — My book site shows all my book covers. Click on the covers and you can read the reviews.
Robert M. Katzman (Bob)
The Magazine Museum
(847) 677-9444
4906 Oakton St.
Skokie, Il 60077
zip@oldzines.com
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Yellow Line train’s first stop on Oakton St. (from Howard) and a block west of that station.