Category: Family Tree

Spoken at family reunion in honor of Aunt Mildred & Uncle Bob Eskeles (90th birthdays)

How I came to own so many Jewish books

Sometime in the late 1950s Uncle Bob gave me Volumes 1, 3 and 5 of a 5-volume work titled The History of the Jews by Heinrich Graetz, a famous German Jewish scholar. I asked him where were volumes 2 and 4. He said someone had given the books to him and that was all he had. I read books 1, 3 and 5, and was curious about what happened in books 2 and 4. From that time on I became interested in and began acquiring books of Jewish content. Uncle Bob, I have spent a fortune on books on account of you!

Shirley Temple curls

I cannot remember any time in my life when Aunt Mildred was not in it. My very earliest memory of our relationship is of Sundays after Buddy was born and I started going to Religious School kindergarten. On alternate Sundays my father would deposit me at my Radman grandparents on Clay Street near 11^th St., or at Grandma Annie Meyer’s house on 19^th Street where Aunt Mildred also lived. We had a routine. After Grandma Annie’s dinner, Aunt Mildred would wash my hair and roll it up in rags. When my hair was dry and the rags removed, the resulting look was vertical curls in the style known as Shirley Temple.

Here’s a picture of me at about 8, taken on 19^th Street, with George, Buddy, Harriet and Miriam, still sporting that hair style. I guess by that year we were all getting dumped on Aunt Mildred on Sundays!

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Mildred died 3 November 2000.
Bob died 15 June 2004.

Written by Bernice

MEYER Leonard Meyer, 95, died September 1 at his home, 210 El Dorado Dr., Richmond. He also maintained a summer residence in The Oceans in Virginia Beach since 1975. He was born December 3, 1903 in Baltimo re, Md., the first child of Anne (Norvick) and George Harry Meyer. He married Ruth (Radman) Meyer on December 26, 1926 in Richmond. When she died August 27, 1993, they had been married nearly 67 years.

Leonard’s family moved to Richmond in 1909. Leonard attended John Marshall High School, playing clarinet in the cadet band. At 15 he left school to work for his father in a butcher stall of the old 17th Street Market. From 1923-25 he ran his own meat stall in the 6th Street Market. He took over his father’s stall in 1925 when his father became ill with cancer. He died on February 24, 1926.

With his three brothers Leonard opened a store on 17th Street opposite the market and began making hot dogs with second-hand equipment purchased in Philadelphia. Eventually, as George H. Meyer Sons, the business moved to the corner of 17th and Franklin where it remained until 1948 as a wholesale meat packing company.

The company moved to Overbrook Road near the Hermitage Road Stock Yards in 1948 into a modern meatpacking plant with slaughterhouse, operating a fleet of refrigerated trucks that delivered meat to groceries and institutions throughout Eastern Virginia. When it closed in 1978 it was the last independent packing house between Atlanta and Baltimore. He continued to maintain an office in the building which housed several small businesses after 1978, and when the building was sold in 1994, he maintained a small office in the area.

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The Meyer siblings, Leonard, Frank, Jerome, Mildred and Norman, racked up 313 wedding anniversaries among them. Yet three of them were divorced once. Jerome was married at age 17 or 19 to Teresa King. They were divorced after a year or two and he married Bertha Rosenberg. At the time of his death in 1993 they had been married 59 years. Mildred was married to Harry Lipsitz at an early age. Again the marriage lasted only 3-4 years and they divorced. She married Robert Gabriel Eskeles and at this writing they have been married 56 years. Norman was married to Sylvia Shultz for 35 years. They divorced and he subsequently married Romayne Snuckels. At the time of his death in 1997 they had been married 22 years.

This is the story of Mildred’s gett, the document of Jewish divorce.

On November 28, 1993, three months after my mother, Ruth’s death, I was cleaning out a filing cabinet drawer at 210 El Dorado Drive. Among the various manila envelopes in the drawer was a free-floating small letter-size envelope with a return address on it: Rabbi M.R. Charrick, 122 Aisquith Street, Baltimore MD. There was no stamp, postmark or addressee, only the circled words in Ruth’s handwriting, “Mildred’s Get.”

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Here is a story to illustrate the theme of Rabbi Lawrence Kushner’s new book: [there are] Invisible Lines Of Connection: Sacred Stories of the Ordinary.

I was reading the November 1997 Temple Beth Israel Bulletin, the page about the Installation Weekend for our new Rabbi Stephen Fuchs. I saw the name Rabbi Richard Sternberger, described as Rabbi Fuchs’ “friend and mentor,” who was to give the Installation sermon. I knew that name from the distant past.

My grandmother, Annie Meyer, had a boarder by that name when she lived at 3210 Kensington Ave. in Richmond, Va. Her daughter and son-in-law, Mildred and Robert Eskeles, my aunt and uncle, lived there too. I called Aunt Mildred (now age 87) for confirmation. “What was the name of that young rabbi who boarded with Grandma a long time ago?” “Richard Sternberger,” she said after a few moments of recall. She continued her recollection: He was a student or assistant rabbi for the summer at Temple Beth Ahabah.

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Aunt Syl, mother’s sister, played the piano by ear. Given what I know of Sylvia’s standing in the family, or what I know of her perception of her standing in the family, my guess is that there was only enough money for one daughter to receive piano lessons. Ruth, being the oldest, took the lessons. Sylvia had access to the piano, probably listened to Ruth practice and, in her can-do way, taught herself to play.

My early memory is begging her to play Stormy Weather.  “Don’t know why, there’s no sun up in the sky, stormy weather. Since my man and I ain’t together, it just keeps raining all the time.” I was not more than 5-6 years old. Aunt Syl was already a nurse and living in New Jersey and married to a man named Abe Rosen. She left for nursing school Rosh Hashana 1929, six months after I was born, so I only got to hear her play when she came to Richmond for visits.

I can still picture scenes in Grandma and Grandpa Radman’s big house on Clay Street (near the corner of 11th Street, demolished at least 20 years ago for a new highway-connecting road). I’d sit on the bench next to her, while she played popular songs, and sing with her. There came a day when she got stormy about playing Stormy Weather,  and told me she didn’t like the song and wasn’t going to play it any more.

I think she and Abe Rosen got married in that house. (Right now I don’t know the year.) Ruth and Leonard had had a huge wedding in the Richmond Hotel. Aunt Syl and Abe got divorced after five years. Things probably weren’t too good for a year or two before the divorce. Maybe that’s when she stopped playing Stormy Weather for me.

What made me think of this: instead of going to shul tonight, I’m in my office preparing to read the parsha,  but doing a double crostic before I settle down. The first clue was “A 1933 song by Harold Arlen & Ted Koehler (2 wds.)”  The answer was Stormy Weather. 

To Nana’s Grandchildren – From Bernice

I returned home yesterday after the week of shiva for Nana. I’ve thought often of all of you since she died. I know that at one time or another she told or wrote each of you something from her heart, once in a while critical, but always with love. We can all be grateful that she lived long enough to influence the lives of all of you and for all of you to know her well. …

… Which brings me to the last thing I need to tell you. Nana never thought that nobody was good enough for her children and grandchildren. If she was not immediately overjoyed with our choice of spouses, she soon enough accepted all as her own. While we all gave her grief at one time or other in her 85 years, she never oppressed us with impossible expectations, though she had standards of conduct she did expect us to honor. She was grateful and proud that we all turned out so well. Her hopes for us were simple: that we enjoy good health, that we love one another and stay together, and that we remain loyal to Judaism.

MEYER Esther Ruth Radman Meyer, 85, daughter of the late Samuel and Lena Hauft Radman, died Friday, August 27, 1993 in Virginia Beach General Hospital. She lived at 210 El Dorado Dr., Richmond, and, for the past 19 summers, at the Oceans Condominium in Virginia Beach. Born in Brooklyn, she came to Richmond in 1911 and graduated from John Marshall High School at age 15. She worked in her parents’ grocery store through her teens and early married years, and in the office of her husband’s meatpacking business, George H. Meyer Sons.

A life long self-educated seeker of knowledge, she was the founder of the Jewish Women’s Club, a study group in its 60th year, and one of its past presidents. She and her husband were founding members of Temple Beth-El in 1931 and she was a past president of Temple Beth-El Sisterhood. She worked for and contributed to many charitable and service organizations. She was a Life Master at brid􀄭e, her favorite “sport.” Her last social outing a few days before her death was a bridge game with old friends. She treasured her family and friends who all share the legacy of her courageous spirit, generous heart, quiet wisdom arid constant optimism.

Survivors are Leonard Meyer, her husband of 66 years; her children, Buddy and Helen Meyer, Mamaroneck NY, Bernice and Seymour Saltzman, West Hartford CT; her grandchildren, Dean and Cindy Meyer, Richmond, Bruce and Beth Meyer, Indianapolis IN, Lisa and Stuart Cohen, San Diego CA, Deborah Meyer, Mamaroneck, David Saltzman, West Hartford, Robert and Beth Saltzman, Redwood City CA, Lisa and Yuval Mishli, Israel; her great-grandchildren, Rachel Meyer, Daniel Saltzman, Doron, Smadar and Amit Mishli; her sister, Beatrice Lorber, Coral Springs FL; brothers- and sisters-in-law, Robert and Mildred Eskeles, Jerome and Bertha Meyer, Norman and Romayne Meyer, Richmond, Mrs. Frank Meyer, Virginia Beach. She was also the sister of the late Albert Radman and Sylvia Kallet. She had warm and loving relationships with three generations of nieces and nephews, with children and grandchildren of her childhood friends and with bridge players of all ages.

Funeral is Sunday, August 29, 11:00 a.m. at the Beth-El Chapel Forest Lawn Cemetery. Shiva until Friday morning, Sept 3, at El Dorado Drive, Richmond. The family will appreciate memorial contributions to the Meyer Eskeles Religious Education Fund, Temple Beth-El, 3330 Grove Avenue, Richmond VA 23221, or a charity of one’s choice.

We were eight plus Rachel at the seder. The food was great, (everybody cooked something). Aunt Mildred’s horseradish (which Boss claimed, before eating, was probably so mild that you could eat it with a tablespoon), had us all coughing and crying upon eating the Hillel sandwich.

In an unguarded moment, Boss said ”it sure is nice to have everybody together like this.”

Uncle Bob couldn’t quite decide what to read in Hebrew and what to read in English, so there was occasionally some confusion. We used a Haggadah that had Fleishmann advertisements, instead of Maxwell House coffee, but essentially of the same vintage and “attractiveness.” Rachel watched Uncle Bob with quite a bit of interest and was quiet for most of the half hour we spent on the service.

The clan went to Aunt Mildred and Uncle Bob’s for lunch on Rosh Hashanah – something like 40 people. They all go to the Eskeles again for break-the-fast on Yom Kippur. Incredible as it seems, Mildred and Bob either buy from the deli or cook everything for both meals. A couple of the nieces help set up and put everything out. She does use disposable plates and eating utensils (“the really nice plastic plates”). I asked her if she isn’t tired of doing this every year. “No ma’am! I love it!” And I believe her.

It is amazing that the Meyer siblings have all lasted so long and been geographically close for three-quarters of a century. The first one who dies will certainly signal the end of a unique era. As I have said before: thank God that after all those years of conflict and struggle in business, they all lived long enough to become friends and show some brotherly love. And that of course, is why the pain will be so great when the chain breaks.