This story really starts in Detroit, Michigan where my family moved in 1913. We lived on Gratiot Avenue (pronounced “grashet”). We lived on the north side of the street at one end and the Hans Haveman family lived on the other end of the same block. We were already a family of 4 daughters and the Havemans had only one child, Gretchen. She was named after her mother. So there were two Gretchen Haveman’s in that family. We called her mother, Aunt Gretchen.
Not that I was any more aware than any other child of what one’s friend’s fathers did for a living, but eventually I did know that Mr. Haveman was a brewmaster of the old world German tradition and he worked for one of the big beer breweries in Detroit.
I can remember that the Havemans celebrated Christmas. They had a Christmas Tree. Mrs. Haveman played the piano, and even though we were Jewish they invited us to come over, the whole family, on Christmas Eve. We girls would sing Christmas Carols with Gretchen while her mother played the piano. Aunt Gretchen wanted to hear our young voices singing all together. She enjoyed this very much and we had a wonderful time. There was usually a Christmas Punch and Christmas cookies served. It was a regular party.
Ida & Charles Politzer on the left side of the stairs, Aunt Gretchen & Mr. Havemann on the right side of the stairs. Mother’s parents in the middle and the children in the back.
The Haveman’s belonged to a club, and we always went to this club for dinner. It was usually just the four of us, but once a French woman went out with us. And she ordered Chestnut puree. That’s where I first learned about Chestnut puree that you put on cakes and things for deserts. I liked the puree very much, it was delicious. I suppose that’s where I got my taste for chestnuts.
When I was 5 1/2 years old, probably in 1924, the family moved to the country so that my mother, who grew up on a farm in Hungary, could have a garden, that subsidized the budget for food. My father bought a ten acre plot which had a large house with an apple orchard in the front yard and was located on Southfield Road and 8 1/2 Mil Road just over the Oakland County, MI, line.
Our Southfield house was a two story brick structure with a large screened in porch in the front and on the left side. The porch was wide enough for double beds which the family took advantage of in the summer time. In the winter, the porch space was used as a “freezer”; barrels of smoked goose and corned beef would be stored there. Vegetables from the garden were stored in the cellar. A ton of sand would be poured through a basement window (just like the coal was poured through the window of the coal bin). And before the ground froze, the root vegetables and celery were picked and “planted” in the sand. That way we had semi-fresh vegetables for the Sunday chicken soup. The carrots sprouted leaves, as did the turnips, parsnips, and celery.
My cousins, Fred, Leonard, and Lillian Greenhut, and Harry Blau, would spend many summers with us full time. Not having any brothers, this was a very natural way for me, and my two younger sisters, to have contact with boys. (The four older girls were away, either at jobs or were married already).
There is a darker yelllow where Frieda is sitting.
I can remember that everyday when we sisters came home from school there was a fresh round loaf of rye bread with jam for us to snack on. I think my mother would get the rye bread fresh from the bakery every day. One thing I remember very clearly, when I was 12, that on Saturdays we sisters spent the day cleaning at home while my mother and Aunt Gretchen went to matinees at the Bonstelle Playhouse or any other matinees playing in town. They had a wonderful time together. My mother loved to go and she dressed up like a Lady and really was a Lady going out.
Between Josephine and I, we got all the work done with the other girls helping. My sister Bertha never wanted to do house work. I can remember Josephine, who was the oldest, would get real mad at her. Gretchen was usually deep in dance lessons, when all this was going on.
I don’t remember much about when we were young. In general, we went to school, and did things together.
One thing I do remember, was when I learned to write long hand, a second time, very prettily. There were glass doors at our school and one day I put my hand on the glass and it went straight through! I had to have my wrist fixed up and when it all recovered, there was this lump on the inside of my wrist. So, for the rest of my life, people would ask me why I had that lump there. I had to learn to write all over again from the beginning. (You will note in a few places in this story, Frieda’s hand writing that was very very fine.)
The two families would get together for picnics on a regular basis. Either in our back yard or theirs. Gretchen didn’t take part in the eating on these occasions in order to keep her ballet figure. She watched her weight very closely even at an early age, because of her dancing.
It was Gretchen who chose me to go out to dinner with them early on. We were close friends, Gretchen and I. She shared her feelings and dreams with me and I with her. But it was different than now-a-days. We didn’t have a lot of time to converse and share our secrets when we were growing up. Gretchen was more the out going one and I tagged along. Since she was a year younger than I, we didn’t go to the same classes in school and I don’t remember going back and forth to school with her. She had lots of home work to do after school; piano lessons from her mother and ballet practice. I eventually had three younger sisters to take care of after school and other duties. I went to watch her in ballet class some times, but I just wanted to watch. So we were both very busy with our own things growing up.
Gretchen was very preoccupied with her dancing. She took ballet lessons. And she was very good at it. She went to Olga Fricker’s Ballet School and eventually, by the time we were teenagers, became one of the principle dancers and a soloist in the Concert Group of Miss Fricker’s Dancing school which was connected to the Bonstelle Playhouse in Detroit. When I was twenty I got a job making costumes for Miss Fricker’s ballet company. That’s when I took lessons there, too, so that I could understand more about how to make the costumes.
Gretchen
Gretchen’s mother used to make costumes for her. The one that I remember particularly, that I had a picture of, was a butterfly costume with wings – a white satin butterfly. During World War I, Aunt Gretchen sold liberty Bonds and to do this she would set up entertainment programs for people to watch. She would plan the whole thing and she would have Gretchen perform solo dances in her butterfly costume.
Eventually both families moved away from Gratiot Avenue. The Haveman’s moved to the north side of town and we moved to Southfield Road in a house on 10 acres of land where wild strawberries grew in the woods. I can remember on Sundays when maybe 25 of our relatives would come out to our house to pick wild strawberries in the woods and stay for dinner. I can still see them now, maybe 20 aunts and cousins would sit in a row in the kitchen against the wall watching me washing the dishes singing “I’m forever blowing bubbles. Pretty bubbles in the air……” I was always washing the dishes. My sister Josephine was always on a date. My immediate younger sister Bertha was always studying and I was always washing the dishes or taking care of my three younger sisters.
I went to Northern High school. At the time, we lived 5 1/2 miles from the nearest public bus stop. So my father bought a car and gave each of us, who were old enough, a chance to learn to drive it. Then he decided that I would be the regular driver. So it was my job, every morning, to drive us to the bus stop and park the car there and catch the bus to school.
Frieda’s Highschool graduation pictureyears later…………………
My older sister Frieda (later Fritzie) did not live at our house when I was growing up. She had been almost adopted by family friends, the Havemans, as a companion for their only daughter. The father, Hans Haveman, had a brewery. They lived on the same street in Detroit as Mother and Dad, when we were growing up. Aunt Gretchen (Mrs. Haveman), was Mother’s best friend. When we moved to the country, they moved into a lovely home in northern Detroit and also had a home in Hamilton, Ontario, in Canada, where they kept horses. Frieda lived with the Havemans during high school. She would visit us when the Havemans visited. Mr. Haveman occasionally hunted pheasant on our property, and, occasionally, I was allowed to spend the night at “Aunt Gretchen’s” house when they returned home from a visit.
My mother was of course the one who taught me how to sew, so she was very important in my beginnings. When my sisters and I needed a new dress, I helped her make them or I made them myself by the time I was 12 years old.
Mother made our winter coats and during World War I, she made my sister Josephine and I military style coats out of Astrakhan (a fake fur material). And we had military caps to go with the coats; the kind that fold flat and can be slipped into a coat pocket. During this time my Uncle Alex who was going to the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor took Jo and I to our first Football game all dressed up in our Astrakhan military coats and caps. I think it was Michigan playing St. Louis.
Mrs. Gretchen Haveman
Mrs. Haveman was another one of the earliest influences on my life.Years later when I began to sew and make clothes for Josephine and I, and the other sisters, Mrs. Haveman, Aunt Gretchen said to me, “You’re very good at that. You really ought to make that your profession, designing and making clothes.” And she said, “When you get old enough to do this, I will help you.” And that was very important to me. Because I felt that my own mother couldn’t help me make it my profession. It was Aunt Gretchen who suggested that my professional fashion designer name be “Madame Fritzie”.
One year Aunt Gretchen gave us 3 or 4 coats that she didn’t need any more; one for each of us. I don’t remember what Josephine or Bert’s looked like, but mine was very elegant – brown with an edge of fur going down the front and all around the bottom edge, around the back.
But Aunt Gretchen gave me the feeling that she could give me the tools to start me in business and that was something my mother couldn’t do. By that time I was one of seven daughters and my mother didn’t have time to learn very much about the business world. For one thing she never bought clothes in a store. Mrs. Haveman did and she knew what was needed in the way of clothes that were to be sold in stores. She had a sense of how fashions changed.
So early on, I developed a great affection for Aunt Gretchen and to some extent became her confidant, someone that she could talk to. Her parents, Gretchen’s grandparents, lived with them. Aunt Gretchen was often depressed about the association with her parents. All she got was complaints about how she didn’t do this and she didn’t do that and that wasn’t right and this wasn’t right. And she would tell me about all this. I don’t know why. I must have been older than 12, or she wouldn’t have talked to me about it. Whenever there was an argument, she’d tell me about it. I was sorry for her, and happy to listen. But there was nothing I could really do to help her.
Anyhow, by the time I was 15 or 16, I realized that Aunt Gretchen wasn’t very happy with her husband, either. I didn’t have anything specific to base this on, just a feeling. And besides I could see how much she enjoyed the attentions of my Uncle Louie. Uncle Louie was very handsome and a real womanizer. They had a very good time together. He was younger. Mr. Haveman was a big heavy set man and older than she was; a real German Prussian type. Anyway, she had a marvelous time with Uncle Louie. So what could I know, at 15.
When I was seven, in 1926, my oldest sister, Josephine had a big wedding in a Temple in Detroit. Josephine, I am told, had beautiful blonde hair and was very pretty and vivacious. After high school she had attended a business school. Before the wedding there was a large outdoor party and our front yard was strung with Japanese Lanterns and a chicken dinner was served.
Mother’s parents had Immigrated by that time and were living with us. Grandfather was in charge of making sure the chickens were killed and prepared according to the Kosher rules, since Father’s butcher shop was not Kosher. My cousin, Lillian Greenhut and I were flower girls at the wedding. Frieda, Bertha, Gretchen and the groom’s sister were Bridesmaids and each of them were paired off with a tuxedo garbed gentleman Usher. Popular music was played. Lillian and I danced the Charleston. After the wedding, Josephine and her new husband, Sam Kazdan, left for California.
Fritzie is 3rd from the right in the rear. Polly is the little girl in the front (unless that is Lillian). I believe my Aunt Bertha is the one on the far left in the rear. Gretchen is 3rd from the left in the rear. Please anyone, let me know who any of the other people are. Either Polly was wrong about Josephine’s hair being blond, or this is not really Josephine’s wedding picture, but it looks like my aunt Josephine.
One October evening Dad came home and announced that we would be going to Temple after supper. It was Succoth, a Jewish harvest festival, and there would be a special ceremony and treats for the children. The synagogue was about 15 miles from our house, which resulted in our not going there very often. But when Dad decided to go, we went.
On the way home, we noticed a bright light as we neared eight mile road. By the time we reached our driveway, we already realized the glare was our house, engulfed in flames! Dad dropped us off across the street and raced back to eight mile road where the Wayne county fire station was located. He said that he plunked down a hundred dollar bill and asked them to come with their equipment and save our house. He was told that he lived in Oakland County and would have to be serviced from Birmingham which was fifteen miles away. They would make the call. He returned, and we all watched the flames devour the inside of our brick house.
After what seemed to be a long time, we heard the sirens approaching from the north. As the fire truck made the approach to our driveway, it got stuck too far away from the house for the hoses to reach. The firemen piled out of the truck and began breaking the windows and smashing the glass front door – helping the flames burn even hotter. We soon saw that their efforts were worse than hopeless and watched the two upper floors collapse into the basement. I think I was sent to a neighbor’s to phone Aunt Regina to ask them to come and get us and to bring some blankets because Dad said he would not leave the premises and Mother was determined to stay with him. The firemen poked around the exterior for a while and then had to tend to the problem of their truck and left the smoldering remains. Aunt Regina and her husband took we three children to their house.
Dad was concerned about the safe which, undoubtedly, had fallen into the basement along with the contents of the house. Somehow, Mother and Dad hunkered down somewhere where they could keep warm and also keep watch. Dad’s premonitions proved to be correct; some time during the night they heard noises. Dad had armed himself and before long several of the “firemen” appeared, presumably to loot. Dad threatened them with his weapon and they took off.
With nothing but the clothes on our backs, Dad found a house for us to rent near the butcher shop and Maxine, Viola, and I could walk to school while our house on Southfield rd. was being rebuilt.
The Rebuilt Southfield house
This story is rather interesting. In the years before “the Depression of 1929” there was a great deal of Anti-immigration sentiment which had increased after World War I (1918) and continued to increase. Economic concerns combined with ethnic prejudice ended America’s “open door” immigration policy in the 1920s. I wonder if the fire at my grandparent’s house was part of this Anti-immigration sentiment of that period, even though they had already been in this country for a decade.
…..after leaving Flint for Detroit, MI, Dad bought a Meat Packing Plant, hoping a son would arrive to take over the business, but when that didn’t happen, he opted for a retail butcher shop as a means of livelihood, which was located near where we lived.
I (Polly) worked at our father’s butcher shop from the age of 8 years old, probably in 1927 or 28, both inside and outside running errands, and continued through high school.I worked there all day Saturday and was in charge of the financial issues during my high school years.
College?
In the summer of 1937, I was accepted at Antioch College and gleefully showed the notification to Mother and Dad. It required a financial statement and a signature confirming that financial obligations would be covered, which amounted to about $400 per year, at that time. Dad’s unbelievable reply was, “What do you want to go to College for? You’ll just get married.” I tried to explain how important it was to me to further my education. I had graduated Magna Cum Laude from high school, a member of the Honor Society. I was determined to do something more with my life than marry a Jewish boy and become a “hausfrau”. Here was an opportunity to broaden my horizons and meet a variety of people and have a number of job experiences (through the special Antioch college work-study program), which would allow me to earn some of the needed money. Anyway, I felt that I had already earned part of the cost by working at the butcher shop all those years and I had spoken to Dad before about my expectations of going to college. But Dad concluded the discussion by saying he couldn’t afford it!
I just blew apart! I attacked him with my fists and pummeled as hard as I could, screaming that “It isn’t fair! You know that I have been working for this for a long time.” Mother stepped in and pulled me off, to stop the hitting. I was beside myself! I threw myself on the ground and just sobbed. I was devastated.
When we all cooled off and could talk; probably the next day or so, Dad came up with a compromise. I was to go to work for a year; put away some savings, and apply again the next year. Meantime, Dad would also put money away for my college expenses. I agreed. I got a job as a stock clerk at Himmelhoch’s Department Store and enrolled in a required English class at Wayne State University night school. My pay on the job was $14 a week which did not allow for much savings. Actually, it paid off in the long run, because when I applied again at Antioch for the following year, they offered me a scholarship and gave me advanced academic and work-study credit for my year of work.
My older sister Bertha had a similar experience. She graduated from high school and wanted to go to college, but Dad said he couldn’t afford it. According to Bertha, Dad had contributed money to his brother Morris, so that Morris’s sons (Edward and Rudolf Politzer) could go to the University of Michigan.
It was clear, Dad thought that higher education was wasted on girls.
That December in Allenford, the groom was given a vacation and when he left, the Havemans discovered that he had been mistreating the horses. And particularly the tall one; the one that Mr. Haveman rode.
One day, Aunt Gretchen decided that she would feed the horses. She went out to feed them and the tall horse got very excited. She was a different person than the groom and she tried to calm him down. She had food for him, but he turned and kicked her in the stomach and that did it. I wasn’t there, I didn’t see it. All I know is that he kicked her in the stomach, bad, and next I knew she was being carried into the house. I was probably in the kitchen cooking. I don’t even remember if they brought her into he house, before they put her on the sled.
I don’t know who got her out of the barn, but they had a friend nearby who was a doctor. He examined her and said she had to go to the hospital immediately, she was bleeding internally. And by the time she got to the hospital peritonitis had set in. When the intestines are punctured, the poison comes out. So she had all this punctured intestine leaking poison insider her and she didn’t survive. She died three days later. Oh, how heartbreaking it all was.
Gretchen and I had to stay at home all that time and do our house work and chores and wait and worry and imagine. When they put her in the sled and took her to the hospital, they must have used the same technique as the hockey sleigh driver to get the ambulance sleigh through as fast as possible.
About a day later they came and told us how serious it was, and then another two days later they came and told us that she had died. There were no telephones. I didn’t see her again until she was laid out in a coffin back in Detroit just before the funeral.
They took her body back to Detroit. I think to a funeral home, but I’m not sure and she was prepared for burial. We were told to go to Detroit for her burial. I don’t remember how we got to Detroit. Gretchen had her Chrysler roadster. That must be how we got there.
I was so completely devastated. I sat beside her coffin in their living room all night crying. What else could I do. I just sat there in the familiar surroundings and cried all night. I felt very badly about her death. She was great fun and we had a wonderful time together. She treated me as if I were her second daughter and I felt about her as if she were my second mother. And now she wouldn’t be there to help me grow up. She wouldn’t be there to help me become a fashion designer. My mentor had died. I would have to do it all by myself. With so many odds against me.
She was laid to rest in a cemetery in Detroit. I went to the funeral, I don’t remember it at all. Gretchen and I went back to their Detroit house. Her grand parents had already passed away so it was just her and her father. So we three stayed there. My father wanted me to come home. I couldn’t leave right away. It was a big house with just Gretchen and her father and she did the cooking. I finally went home. But I didn’t stay there very long. Gretchen and her father needed me. Gretchen was very disturbed by what happened to her mother and she didn’t want to stay alone.
AFTER THE ACCIDENT:
These were the famous years, the 1920’s “Prohibition”.
It was in full force in both Canada and the United States. And you could be put in jail if you were found to be making alcoholic beverages or selling them. Mr. Havemann was really a Brew Master of good German beer by profession, not your big time hoodlum, but not the kind of thing to be making in those years. And during this time of Prohibition he was eventually caught and put in Leavenworth prison where he stayed until prohibition was over.
He was caught right after the funeral for Aunt Gretchen. Gretchen decided she wanted to be in Allenford living at the farm. But her father didn’t want us living in the farmhouse way out in the country in the winter time. He felt it was unsafe because of the fact that we had no transportation to get through all the winter snow.
So until the snow melted in the spring we went into Allenford to live with a widow named Mrs. Baker. It was a pleasant place to live; warm and close to all the young people. Mrs. Baker would heat sand bags in the oven to heat our beds, on the very coldest winter nights.
While we lived with Mrs. Baker we could join the young people in their winter activities. Mostly we went to hockey games and square dances. We also sledded on flat shovels and pots and pans. One of the boys had a harmonica and played square dance music at the top of the hill and we would dance in the moonlight.
And those are my memories of Allenford, Ontario and my first friend Gretchen and most of all her mother.
The signature confuses me. I always thought that my mother made the linoleum cut. For sure she held on to this all these years…….
Around the time I started high school, my older sister Frieda, who was already called Fritzie most of the time, began working for Olga Fricker at her School of Ballet, as the costume designer. Fritizie lived in her studio on the top floor of the school which was a three story building on Cass Avenue near Wayne University. Fritzie and I had become better acquainted with each other and were then very good friends: I found in her someone I could talk to and she was very supportive. I let her know how lonely I was living in the “boonies”, at home.. She made arrangements with Olga Fricker to let me join an after school ballet class and pay for it by being responsible for keeping Olga’s office clean.
I enjoyed the ballet classes; I worked hard and made enough progress to be in a recital. Most thrilling of all, I was included in the group that auditioned to be extras on stage with the Corp de Ballet Russe for a performance of “Petrushka” starring Balanchine. And I was one of those chosen!
Then, at Christmas time, after I had advanced to dancing “on toe” I was included in a group that was booked at a downtown theater to perform an “interval” where a Shirley Temple movie “The Littlest Colonel” was being featured. This was two weeks of “showbiz”; three performances a day! full of grease paint! costumes! music! and waiting……… I think I saw the Shirley Temple movie twenty times.
I also began to take voice lessons, learning excerpts from Shakespeare, etc. I was a stagestruck kid. My bedroom was plastered with pictures of Lunt and Fontaine.
When recital time came around and Fritzie became very busy in the costume department, I became her go-fer and all around assistant: standing in for the “dummy” (Mannequin, dress form) while patterns were fitted; going to the fabric store to match materials and thread and trimmings; putting together a hurried snack at any time of the day or night when the pressure was on. Many times I just spent the night at the studio and would catch the bus to school in the morning. And Fritzie rewarded me by taking me to plays, such as “the Women” by Clare Boothe Luce, which raised questions about sex and society for me. And Fritzie was there to answer my questions. I had never been able to talk about my personal questions with my mother. She was very shy, unable to cope with subjects like sex or personal hygiene. And personal discussions never seemed to be appropriate during the time I spent with Bertha, one of my other older sisters. Sometimes Bertha would take me with her to her Art Class at Wayne and I “felt big” when she did. Somehow, my relationship with Fritzie was more like being an equal rather than being the “little sister”.
At the beginning of my sophomore year, Fritzie presented me with a special gift: two lovely raspberry red outfits. One was a long sleeved wool crepe, a rather, dressy dress. The other, a sporty pin whale corduroy shirt dress. I was delighted. My wardrobe had always consisted of hand-me-downs or things I had made myself and I was not a faultless seamstress.
Between my junior and senior years of high school, 1936, I applied for a drama Scholarship that was being offered at Northwestern University, and I got it. When I was awarded the scholarship to be a “Cherub” (the name given to the students in this program), Fritzie immediately came forward by putting together my wardrobe. She made a spectacular organdy formal (one of the requisites in the brochure) to be worn at the competition that was to be held at the end of the session. The dress was perfect for the occasion; very feminine; a hyacinth blue organdy penner entirely edged with matching ruffles over a blue taffeta slip.
……….By this time, summer 1937, Fritzie had her own business designing women’s clothes in Gross Pointe, an upscale suburb of Detroit. ……….
It was Fritzie who persuaded me to apply to Antioch College. I had thought I would like to go to a women’s college because that is where my high school friends had applied. Fritzie’s comment was, “Growing up with six sisters, why the hell would you want to go to a girl’s school?”. But she also had an alternative for me to consider. The daughter of her friends, Ralph and Clara Holmes (Ralph was the drama critic on the staff of the Detroit Times) was attending Antioch College in Ohio, and was very enthusiastic about it. It had a unique work-study program and was a small school. Fritzie arranged for me to spend a weekend at the school and financed the trip. I was hooked after that experience and determined to fulfill my part in the bargain I made with Dad and see to it that he kept his part. In the summer of 1939, word came that I had been accepted with advance credit for my courses at Wayne State University and also work credit, with a small stipend toward my tuition.
Fritzie made me a very collegiate blue plaid pleated skirt that I wore for years.
Many times, my aunt Polly would tell us about the prom dresses that my mother made for her. Polly would write to Fritzie and mention the date of the dance, and on the very day of the dance a package would show up with a dress that fit Polly perfectly.
