Bubbe's Place: Stories

Effriam Krasavitz

I murmured, "Hmm… Boy he must have been really rich or important."

Mama asked, "Who? Where?"

I replied, "Look over there, near the fence. There is a single grave in a park like setting. I wonder what it costs to buy so much ground."

Mama shook her head and answered, "Do you know so little about Jewish attitudes and customs? A lone grave at the outer perimeter of the cemetery…it is a place for the cursed."

I was bewildered. "Cursed? Who? Why cursed?"

Mama continued, "Probably a suicide. Jews are not allowed to kill, not even themselves. The Rabbis always taught us to choose life. And if a person committed suicide, they buried that person away from the community."

Papa shrugged his shoulders and said, "Let's walk over there and see whose grave it is. Oei vey…it is Effriam Krasavitz. No wonder he is off by himself. Who would want to lie next to him? He was a murderer and a suicide!"

Mama objected to Papa's comments. "Menashe! Moil Shvaig! (Mouth be silent!)

Papa answered curtly, "Why should I be silent? Everyone in Brooklyn knows about Effriam and the fire."

Mama cautioned, "Again and again the rabbis warn us about lashon ha-ra. (Evil speech) It is forbidden to spread gossip even if it might have some truth in it. You don't know the truth. Only Effriam knew the truth and he wouldn't talk. Menashe it is forbidden to gossip and spread stories that may or may not be true! Moil Shvaig!"

Papa answered vehemently, "IT is all true! Everyone in Brooklyn and in the Bronx knows That the stories are true!"

I interrupted, "Everyone knows but me! I am not taking another step until you tell me Effriam Krasavitz's story. What does everyone know?"

The two old people argued another few minutes. Then Mama agreed to sit and wait for us on a nearby bench. She would not talk about Effriam's troubles and she would no longer try to shut Papa's mouth.

This is the story that Papa told me. Was it true? Was it slander? You decide.

Papa began, "Effriam was a beautiful man. He had been born in Koshovoto. And like me he went to cheder (a one room school house) and had a very traditional orthodox Ashkenazi education.

"He was a clever fellow and a good student. Everyone knew that if he went to America, he would become a success. And he did immigrate to America when he was fourteen. At fourteen he was already a mentch, an ethical man. People liked and trusted him. People liked doing business with a man that they can trust.

"Soon he married and fathered two children, a boy and a girl. He belonged to a synagogue. He was generous and gave to good causes. He never forgot the widow and the orphan. At first he had a store and then he became a manufacturer. It's not a kosher expression, but people said that the world was his oyster.

"Hmm…perhaps that expression was an omen of something unkosher that was about to occur.

"It was 1928. Things were wonderful. Then it was 1929 and businesses were failing and people were jumping out of windows. Effriam had no problems. Maybe in 1929 or early 1930, business was a little slower, but Effriam was sure that he had weathered the storm. In 1931, the recession sunk its talons into Effriam's business. He could see that he would soon be bankrupt!"

I interrupted, Papa how do you know all of this? Did he confide in you?"

Papa shrugged, "I had just a nodding acquaintance with Effriam. But everyone knew. Everyone knows Effriam's story.

"Where was I? Oh yes… Effriam was really worried. He was going bankrupt! What could he salvage? What could he do to protect his assets? He asked no one for advice. He knew what others had done. Some had started over from scratch. Some moved to the wilds of New Jersey or God forbid, California. Some had committed suicide. Some had sold their failing business to an unsuspecting nar, (fool) and some had set fire to the building for the insurance money.

"Effriam thought about this last option. He rationalized. 'For years I have paid insurance premiums. I never made a claim against the insurance company. For years they have used my money interest free. If I should have a fire, even a big fire, I would only be taking back a little of my own money. The insurance company would still be way ahead. They would still have all the interest money that they have earned on my money. The longer he thought about it, the better it sounded. But it worried him. Would it be a crime or God forbid a sin? Oei Vey…what to do?

"It is amazing how even an honest mentch, when his back is to the wall, can lose his moral compass. When you don't talk to anyone else, everything you say seems right and reasonable. Effriam did not tell anyone that he had big problems. No one knew that he was going bankrupt. He did not ask anyone for an eytseh. (Advice) What he did do? Well, he never told anyone, but everyone knew.

"The fire started the night Effriam's son and his kallah (Bride) had their engagement party. There were at least two hundred people at the party. Everyone there said that Effriam could not have set the fire at the factory because they saw him dancing and drinking at the engagement party.

"The next day the police and the fireman searched for clues. What had caused the fire? They found nothing suspicious. They knew that Effriam was at the engagement party when the fire started. They could not find anyone who had a grudge against Effriam and would start a fire, so they ruled out revenge as a cause for the fire.

"The story might have ended here if they had not found a body! Yes the firemen found the remains of a body in the corner of the third floor. After a short investigation the police announced that it was the body of an old shicker. (Drunk) They surmised that the old drunk fell asleep while drinking and smoking. His cigarette started the fire. Those factories in the garment trade were always full of lint. The cigarette must have ignited the lint and then spread to the bolts of cloth that were everywhere.

"Effriam was horrified. The foreman who had locked up the building was inconsolable. How could this happen? No one had permission to sleep in the building. No one was known to have slept there before.

"The newspapers wrote a short article about the fire and the death of an old vagrant. The insurance company paid Effriam a large amount of money for his loss of the building, and the machinery, and the bolts of cloth and the desks etc. Nothing was paid for the loss of one old man.

"The talk in the Jewish community did not stop. Soon it was common knowledge that Effriam was having financial problems before the fire. The gossip, the speculation grew.

"Overnight Effriam became a pariah, an Ishmael.

"The father of the bride who just two days before had heaped praises on his daughter's intended, broke the engagement!

"The synagogue asked Effriam to resign from its board of directors.

"Suddenly people crossed the street rather than speak to him. And street urchins screamed, 'Here comes the firebug' when they saw him on the street.

"At home it was no better. Effriam's son packed his clothes and cried, 'you have ruined my life. I must change my name and go far away where no one has heard of you!'

"His daughter wept, 'You have destroyed all my chances! No one will want to marry the daughter of a firebug! ' She too left home to live with a relative in a distant city.

I interrupted, "Papa how do you know all these things?"

His answer was the same. Papa shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Everyone knows!" Then he continued.

"Effriam never left his house again. He spent his remaining days in a little bedroom on the top floor of his house. Only his wife was in the house with him. She peppered him with questions.

She asked, "What have you done?"

He replied, "Nothing. What great sin did I commit? I had thoughts, but I did nothing! Why has everyone turned their backs on me?"

She asked, "Are you meshuggah? (Crazy) You lock yourself up in the house like a guilty man and you ask why everyone treats you like a guilty person."

He replied, "I don't know. Don't ask me any questions."

She cried, "What has happened to you? What has happened to us? You might just as well have gone to jail. You have turned this little room into a prison cell and you have made me your jailer."

He replied, "You are free. You can go. I must stay here until I go to the cemetery."

She whispered, "That won't be long. You hardly eat anything. You are starving yourself to death. You are committing suicide. A Jew doesn't dare commit suicide!"

I interrupted again. "Papa what did he do day and night in that little room?"

Papa answered, "He prayed. He atoned. He wrote checks and sent money to worthy causes. He did it all anonymously. He buried the shicker and tried to find the shicker's family. He brought some distant cousins of the drunk, a mother and her daughter, to America."

I interrupted Papa again. "Oh Papa he was condemned by gossip. There was no trial. There was no confession. Nothing. Mama is right. There is and was nothing but lashon ha-ra."

Papa shook his head and murmured, "But everyone knew. Everyone except people like your Mama knew that he was guilty."

I asked, "In the end did everyone forgive him?"

Papa answered, "God forgives. People…people talk. At best people forget. And Effriam never forgave himself after all it was in his factory that the shicker died."

I continued, "Did he ever see his children again?" "No one knows," answered Papa. I asked, "Did the Jewish community forgive him?"

Papa replied, "No. See his grave is separated from the community because he was not forgiven."

I had one last question. "If God forgives, why don't people forgive?"