Document text
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Forms to be Filled out for Each Interview
FORMA
Circumstances of Interview
STATE New York
NAME OF WORKER Herman Spector
ADDRESS 701 Crotona Park No. Bronx
DATE 1)( -6"4A4 -1P1 (')W
SUBJECT The Pauper's Christmas.
1. Date and time interview
2. Place of interview 1758 Bathgate Ave.
3. Name and address of informant
FOLKLORE
NEW YORK
James Poitieres (Keep confidential)
4. Name and address of person, if any, who put you in
touch with informant.
5. Name and address of person, if any, accowpanying you
6. Description of room, house, surroundings, etc.
Informant lives with two brothers in 4 room apartment of old tenement, surroundings
indicate an almost stark poverty with feeble efforts of disguise. Shabby couch,
moth-eaten, stained chairs placed carelessly about, but no carpet on floor and
a woman's neat touch very obviously lacking.
(Use as many additional sheets as necessary, for any of the forms, each
bearing the proper heading and the number to which the material refers.)
PORN,
Personal History of Informant
STATE New York
NAME OF WORKER Herman Spector
ADDRESS 701 Crotona Pak No. Bronx
DATE
SUSJECT THE PAUPER'S CHRISTMAS (James Poitieres, Inf.
1. AncestryFather-French, with Italian and J
Mother -Born in Germany of Jewish parents.
2. Place and date of birth
Trinity Hospital, New Yor, April 27, 1910
3. Family
FOLKLORE
NEV.' YORK
Lives in 4 room p apartment with two brothers Parents both dead.
4. Places lived in, with dates
East Bronx
5. Education, with dates
Public school to 7 A
6. Occupations and accomplishments, with dates
Printer's assistant
7. Special skills and interests
Likes to watch baseball games and discuss economics
S. Community and religious activities
hone
9. Description of informant young man of rather swarthy appearance, black hair,
slightly below medium height but solidly buitt, quiet, generally uncommunicative
and almost taciturn but willing to be friendly and adaptable in conversation
when the subject interests him.
10. Other Points gained in interview
FORM C
Text of I,Aterviow
STATE New York
NAME OF WORKER Herman Spector
ADDRESS 701 Crotona Pk. No. Bronx, N. Y.
DATE
SUBJECT THE; PAUPER'S CHRISTMAS.
FOLKLORE
NEW YORK
I've been the one who's really took care of the family since my mother
died. John never had no luck with jobs; not that he's lazy or dumb, but nothing
ever pans out. No sooner does he hear about a job than he gets sick, or the boss dies.
Konest, that guy just never has luck at nothing. Last time he worked was for a hotel
downtown. Cleaning up, dirty work, but he didn't mind. He figured at least it would
last over the minter. First thing you know, the place changes owners, and he sets
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the air. I say sometimes it's fate- how else can you explain it? The poor billy
worries all the time. There ain't nothing wrong with him, like I say. Maybe what
he needs is confidence. He's still trying to win these contests in the popezrs;
it gives him something to do, otherwise he'd go nuts.
The other brother worked on and off; it never amounted to nothing. I
might say we never really seen any good days, so maybe that's why we don't complain
about the depression. Now, at least, you can get Relief of WPA; something to keep
you going. I remember when we lived on Third lvenue, the three of us used to swipe
milk bottles we hadda eat, I don't care what you say.
The old man died when we were kids. We lived over on Tremont Avenue when
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he was alive, past West Farms, in one of these old two family houes. They was ten
A
houses in a row, we used to call them the Ten Commandments. There was a hill near
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there, Greens's Hill, it slanted way up about 100 feet well, may:e less then
it was a flat ridge, and we used to build bonfires and pick strawberries there.
We put up shacks there like all kids do, and we used to put on little shows. They
was usually about pitchers we had seen. Like I remember we played "The Shiek",
and all of us got dressed up in sheets. There was a moviearound there called
"The Booth"; I think they use it for some kind of Jewish shows now. Then there was
one called "The Pictorium", on 180th Street near Vyse. My mother and me both worked
there after my father died.
There's nothing special I can remember about that house near Greens's Hill
except the feller who lived upstairs. He used to electrocute cats. I mean just for
fun, I mean he didn't kill them, anly knock them unconscious for awhile, and their
hairs would stand up. To him it was like a pleasure he got a kick out of it. So
far as I know, he wasn't cruel in any other way, but when he was drunk he used to
take these cats down the cellar and put this live wire to their backs. They say a
cat has nine lives; that's no lie. This feller was about 23, he worked in a coal yard,
and naturally he liked to drink. He'd get into scraps with his old man and once the
old man hit him in back of the head with a hammer and sent him to the hospital. The
old man drank more than he did, and they were always having brawls. That's all I
remember about that house, I mean as far as characters is concerned.
After my father died of T. iii. we moved over to Washington Avenue. I hadda
get out of school, I was in 7A, and I got a job in the Pictorium on account of my
mother worked there and the manager knew her. My mother scrubbed floors there and
I helped out the operator. I used to wind reels for him; you know, when the reels
run out you have to rewind them, that's the kind of work I did at first. I used to
0 -,-et two dollars a week for a couple of hours work. I only got the job because he
was sorry for my mother. Afterwards, I worked on Tremont for a butcher for 15 a
week, and they cut my mother's pension down to forty bucks. You know, a funny thing
happend when I worked in the theatre. We used to get passes to see the shows, you
know. So one nijht we all go my mother and us three brothers and they're giving
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away prizes; just like Screeno, only it wasn't called that. They was giving away
those beaded pocketbooks that night, four of them was going to be given away, beaded
pocketbooks was in style. 6o what do you think happens? Nothing phoney; only just
by dumb luot we cop every one of the prizes; the manager was embarrassed, I guess,
my mother goes up there four times straight. We sold three of the bags, and we kept
the last one. That's something that only can happen once in a lifetime, don't you
think.
After that our luck ran just the other way. My mother got sick, and couldn't
work no more. I was the only one working, and we couldn't pay for a regular doctor
so they took her to the hospital. We thought she had a rupture from strain. Then,
while she was in the hospital, they stopped the widow's pension, and we couldn't
pay the rent. Later, we found out she had cancer, but they didn't tell us nothing
till after she died. She died on Christmas Day, and on the same day that we get
the telegram telling us she's dead, the landlord hands us a dispossess. And we
didn't have no money even to eat. I still think they gave her the "Black bottle"
you know, they figured she wouldn't last long anyway, just e charity case, so they
probably figured to save expense. I know that she was shipped from Fordham to St.
Ann's Hospital on account of they thought she was a Catholic. What I'd like to
know, if she was really so sick, why could they move her from one place to another?
So far as I know, you dassent move a sick person. I never had no use for these
charity hospitals anyway.
e'l
The nurse told me afterwards that she refusted to be blessed by either a
priest or a rabbi. My mother was Jewish,though you might say that she never was
orthodox or went to synagogue or anything. My father was what you call Episca
Epicoapalean, I think it's e —lied; I don't know. I've got no use for religion myself;
it's all right for them who believe in it and many of my friends are religious
but not me.