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In Nineteen Five
I became alive
and what I found
around this town
Was joy and tears
for 50 years.
I. Origins1
In 1799, my great-great grandfather [surname?] was a chicken farmer in the town of
Pushalot, in the state of Lithuania, in the Soviet Union.
It was a hard life in the town of Pushalot. The winters were nine months long and
unendurably cold. The summers were hot and rainy. There were occasional pogroms or Russian
Cossaks rampaging through the streets terrorizing the countryside, gypsies stealing everything in
sight, including sometimes even children, and always there was the threat of Siberia.
My ancestors, like most Jews, were very poor, hard working and suffering. My greatgreat grandfather bought eggs from all the chicken farmers, packed them carefully on a wagon,
covered them with straw to keep them cool and fresh and rode many miles to Kovna, Vilna and
Riga to sell the eggs at the big city markets.
In 1825, my great grandfather served as a rabbi in Pushalot.
In 1872, my grandfather opened a kretchma in Pushalot. A kretchma is a Russian inn
somewhat like out modern motels, only they didn’t have swimming pools or air conditioning. It
was a place travelers could stop for food or drink or spend the night.
One day a Bolshevik on horseback stopped at the Inn and drank a lot of vodka. He got
fresh with my grandmother, who I understand was a good looking girl in those days. My father,
a teenage boy, picked up a piece of stove wood, hit him on the head and knocked him out. That
was an awful crime in Russia for a Jewish boy. My grandfather made a temporary settlement
with the Russian and gave him 50 rubles.
My father thought that they may send him to jail or Siberia, so he stole his way across the
border into Germany. He didn’t like Germany, so he left Germany and made his way to South
Africa.
He went to work as a house painter in Johannesburg. He became ill from the lead
poisoning in the paint. There were no United Way or Federate Jewish Charities down there, but
someone took pity on him and nursed him back to health. He sold cigarettes and sandwiches at a
stock exchange and he finally opened a resturant.
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Cite reference
�In 1898, right before the English-Boer War, my father sold his resturant for gold coins,
got a money belt, and went down to Cape Town. He had a cousin in Australia and a brother in
Jacksonville, Florida. By a flip of a coin he came over to Jacksonville, Florida.
In Jacksonville, Florida, he went to night school to learn to read and write English.
Just Think . . .
“Just think,” said Leo Finkelstein, pawnbroker extraordinary, to the writer yesterday,
“but for the fall of a coin ‘heads up’ in South Africa nearly fifty years ago, I would be selling
kangaroos today in Australia.” We looked at Leo, who was giving such a strange answer to an
ordinary question as to the state of business, but he seemed to be in good health and there was
nothing in his manner to indicate a sudden stroke or something. Then he continued: “yessir,
when my father (Harry L. Finkelstein) was a young man, and many years before I was born, he
was in business at Johannesburg, South Africa. He had been in England and was getting tired of
South Africa, so when an Englishman came along and gave him (my father) the choice of going
to Australia with him, or of visiting the United States, my father tossed up an English shilling:
‘heads for America, tails for Australia’. It came down with heads up, and that is why I am
running a poor man’s bank in Asheville, instead of being a kangaroo millionaire in Australia”.
Then Leo added the information that his father never regretted the fact that the coin fell
for America. “He often told me as a boy”, said the young man, “that he would rather live in
Asheville than any place on earth”.
-from unknown newspaper dated 1935
The History of Macy Meisal Slott’s Family As Told By The Patriarch Himself
Just in case you don’t recognize me, I am your grandfather patriarch, Zaida Macy
Meisal. Some of you are named after me: all the Miltons, Michaels, Morrises, Mays, Michels,
Melvins and Matthews . . . All named after me, and I am flattered that your parents held my
memory in such high regard. My wife was named Faga and all of you Fannies, Fagas,
Florences, Frances were named after her. Our parents made the Chiddach between Faga and
me before we ever met each other. Boy, were we scared! But, little by little we became
acquainted and we had eight children, four boys and four girls. Our first born was a girl. We
named her Michla. She married a man named Itzic Schemer and they had eight children, four
boys and four girls, Michla and Itzic did not leave Pushalot, our home shtetl. But many of their
children did go to America. I am flattered and delighted to see here tonight descendents of their
sons, Berra Hirsha, Fivah, Helman, and Velval, and their daughters, Faga Cohen and Malcha
Rose. . . Many of Michla’s family live in Jacksonville and are well known to each other. It is
especially wonderful to see so many from out-of-town: form Texas, Faga’s children- Ben Cohen
and his wife Marjorie, Ely Cohen and his daughter Sandra, Frank Cohen (Fort Worth’s 1975
Physician of the Year) and his wife Sara, daughters, Ann Prenovitz and husband Jacob of
Boston, Sary Zimmerman and husband Raymond of Texas. . . Will you all stand so the eyes of
Jacksonville can gaze into the eyes of Texas. More of Michla’s out of town family through son
Helman, Ben Schemer and his wife Helen, Ft. Lauderdale, FL Willaim Schemer and his wife Val,
�Miami. Through son Fivah, all from Miami, all from Miami, Maurice Schemer and his wife
Dorothy, Stephen Schemer and his wife Esther, Isadore Schemer and his wife Laura, Fannie
Siegel and her husband Irvin. Through son Berra Hirsha Dorothy Legum and husband Irving
and son Terry, Richmond, VA. Lynn Legum from Philadelphia, PA, Cheryl Lebeau and husband
Jerry, Atlanta, GA, Lee Shemer and wife Lil, Newport News, VA. Through son Helman, Barbara
Zwerin and husband Harley, Clearwater, FL. Through daughter Malcha Rose, Etta Drashin and
husband Bob, St. Augustine, FL. The oldest descendant here tonight is Minnie Morgenstern, 86,
who just beat Max Rose, 85.
Our second child was also a girl and we named her Etta. She married Yudi Carmel.
They brought their three boys and three girls to America in 1899. All of my children were
wonderful but my Etta was an exceptional person. She was the most unselfish, charitable,
kindliest, energetic person of her time. She brought many of our family to America. She
provided for them in every way until they could help themselves. She shared her worldly goods
and love with everyone. She was a regular saint, you should pardon the expression. Children of
her daughter, Esther who is 94 and living in Baltimore, and daughter Fannie, who just passed
away at the age of 96 and children of her son Frank, have come a long way to be with us tonight.
From VA, Macy Carmel and his wife Rose, Melvin Carmel and his wife Sylvia, Percy Carmel,
Miriam Carmel, Harriet Kirsner, Mildred Fox, Louis Richman and his wife Tznia and their three
daughters. Helda Kirsner from Charlotte, NC. From Baltimore, MD, Harriet Hackerman, Dolly
Hackerman Asbell, Milton Hackerman and his wife Mildred.
We don’t know exactly how Melvin and Kay Zweig of Chevy Chase, MD and Lester and
Eileen Gordon of St. Petersburg, FL fit into the family. If they are not Michpaucha, we certainly
wish they were. . . .Will all please stand.
My next child was Rossa. She was married to Sarya Sherman, and they had five boys and
two girls. Rossa’s children came to this country but Rossa passed away in Pushalot as a very
young woman. From Hallandale, FL, Ruth (Cissy) Serman Levy who is the daughter of Rossa’s
son Harry and Her Husband Sam is here representing that branch of our family..... Please stand.
Our fourth child, finally we had an ingelleh and could make a Bris. We called him Itzic.
He had two boys and two girls, all of them came to this country and the families of his sons
Harry and Abe and daughters Malcha Kramer and Faga Foor are represented here this evening.
Irvin Slott and wife Lois from Bethesda, MD. William Foor and wife Carol, Miami, FL. Elise
Foor Haas, husband Frank, Boynton Beach, FL, Renee Slott Montaigne, son Jeffrey, Atlanta,
GA. Dr. Marvin Slott, Gainesville, FL. Please stand.
Our next daughter we named Miriam and she married Mayer David Cohen. My, was I
proud to have a Cahan in the family. They had four boys and four girls, and all came to live in
America. Some of their family live here in Jacksonville, and others have travelled thousands of
miles.. Sadie Cohen and Florence Levin, Baltimore, MD. Dr. Eileen Cohen, PA. Bessie Cohen
Eisenstat and husband Berry from Atlanta, GA. Carl Proser and his wife Helen from Greenville,
SC. Helen Sloat Samuel, Sacramento, CA. Lisa Sloat, Miami, FL. Please stand.
Then we had another boy and we named him Herschel. He called himself Harry, and
�Harry was some sport. He took the last name of Goldman when he came to this country. Our
name in the old country was Zloty. It is a Lithuanian coin made of gold. All of our family took
the name of Slott to make it more acceptable in America, but Harry took the last name of
Goldman, represented by the gold coin. He came to Jacksonville, in 1887 because there was
another Pushaloter family here named Finkelstein but they are not Mishpocha, just Landsleit.
He [Harry Goldman?] built a big business, was a city councilman and very active in the local
community. He brought and helped to establish many of our family to Jacksonville. He had two
boys and two girls. His reputation and accomplishments earned him recognition and
biographical history is on record in the Florida Archives in the History of the State of Florida.
Our next child was Lippa. He called himself Lippman Slott in America and had three
boys and five girls and lived in Chicago where he established a meat packing business that his
descendants still operate.
Our last child was also a boy whom we named Shopsal. He was everyone’s favorite. He
came to America but returned to Pushlot to be with Faga and me. I needed him in the business.
It is touching to think that we perhaps have family who still live in Lithuania now and are
not known to you in America or maybe only the ones who have survived are you in America.
You must certainly count your blessings and bless the memory of your parents who had the
initiative and gedult to leave the tiny, familiar world of Pushalot to risk their lives and future to
establish a new life and hope in America.
It was a hard life in Mein Shtetle Pushalot, in a country then called Litta or Lithuania to
you. The winters were nine months long and unendurably cold. The summers were extremely
hot and rainy. The Goyim barely tolerated us and there were occasional pogroms, or Russian
Cossaks rampaging through the countryside or Tzygainer, gypsies stealing everything in sight
including sometimes even children, and always there was the threat of Siberia.
Like most Jews, we were very poor, hard-working and suffering. My business, I bought
eggs from the chicken farmers and packed them carefully in my wagon, covered them with straw
to keep them cool and fresh and rode many viorts, miles to you, to Kovna, Vilna, Ponivis, and
once in a while to Riga, to sell eggs in the big city markets. I hated the long horse drawn wagon
ride and hated being away from my Fagalaand Kinderlach all week from Monday to Friday and
often what life would be like, if I were a rich man!
But we had good times too in Pushalot. We went to schul a lot. The kinder went to
Cheder a lot, our wives benched a lot, we blessed after each meal, we sang songs a lot, we had
Bar Mitzvahs and we had weddings. I’ll never forget the Chasinah of our first daughter Michla.
What a wedding!
After that wedding did we have trouble with our next two daughters, Etta and Rossa.
They were so jealous that Michlas had a husband, they nagged us to consult the Shotchun to
negotiate a Shiddach for them. I immediately had to set aside the Nadan, the dowry for those
two and consult with the Yenta.
�But my children were restless. . . They had heard geshichtes about in America. The land
of milk and honey with streets paved with gold. No risks seemed too great to escape the agony of
serving in the army of the Russian Tzar or the pogroms of the Cossaks. They would not be
denied. No obstacles were too great to stop them. . not even the forged visas, not leaving home
in the night stealing across unpatrolled borders, enduring the forty-five days rough ocean
voyage in steerage class, subsisting on salted herring and black bread to arrive in America.
Here in the land of milk and honey.
This is the land of milk and honey
This is the land of sun and song,
And this is a world of good and plenty,
Humble and proud and young and strong,
And, this is the place where the hopes of the homeless,
And the dreams of the lost combine.
And, this lovely land is yours and mine.
So my children and their children came to America, destitute but determined. They
tasted and endured the bitterness of poverty, desperation, and disappointment with dignity,
spirit, hopefulness and perseverance to seize the opportunities and glory in the freedom of
Columbus’ Medina. . .Our America! Not all of my children could have biographical histories of
their lives published in the archives of records, but everyone of them, Michla, Etta, Rossa, Itzic,
Miriam, Harry, Lippa, and Shopsal have their accomplishments and noble characteristics
inscribed in the hearts of the families and friends whose lives they touched.
I am going to fade out of your sight. . .and leave you with just your memories. . .
Origins of the Pawnshop
The Pawnshop was originated in China 3,000 years ago.
established in Bavaria in 1557[?]
legally adopted by France during the 18th century
London became enchanted with the money-making plan a few years later and it wasn’t
long before Pope Leo IX publicly expressed his approval.
Five Brothers Finkelstein
Five brothers came to the United states at the beginning of the 20th Century and opened
pawnshops:
Louis Finkelstein at Florence, SC
Moe Finkelstein at Columbia, SC
Chas. Finkelstein at Wilmington, SC
Neal Finkelstein at Jacksonville, FL
My father, Harry Finkelstein at Asheville, NC.
II. The Dawn of the Twentieth Century in Asheville
�In 1900, my father became ill and the doctor in Jacksonville told him the only place to go
to get cured would be the mountains. He came up to Asheville, and Doctor Smith told him he
would die of anything except what they sent him to Asheville for, so that he might as well go
back to Jacksonville. He like Asheville so much he decided to stay here.
In 1903, he opened a pawn shop at 23 South Main Street (now Biltmore Avenue). He
married Fanny Sherman from Newport News, Virginia, and they made their home in an
apartment on Ashland Avenue.
In 1905, my father became a citizen of the United States.
Among the organizations he joined were the Asheville Board of Trade (now The
Asheville Chamber of Commerce), the Fraternal Order of Eagles, Suez Temple of the Oramatic
Order of Khorosson, Lodge #1401 BPO, Elks, Mt. Herman Masonic Lodge, Scottish Rite
Masonic Lodge, Oasis Temple of Shriners, Congregation Bikur Cholim (now Beth Isreal), and
Congregation Betha-Ha-Tephila.
So, in Asheville, North Carolina, the Twentieth Century began with:
-The pawnbroker named Finkelstein.
-S. H. Friedman, who operated a furniture store. He came to Asheville from
Maryland, where he peddled tinware. His son, Nat Friedman, later operated the
Susquehana Antique Co.
-A Jewish lawyer by the name of Goldstein.
-A Jewish plumber by the name of A.J. Huvard. He married E.C. Goldberg’s sister. E.C.
Goldberg ran a news stand next to the Imperial Theater on Patton Avenue for years.
-A Jewish dentist by the name of I. Mitchell Mann.
-Harry Blomberg’s father who came to Asheville in 1887. He operated the Racket Store
on Biltmore Avenue for many years.
-The Palais Royal Department Store operated by Morris Meyers for 40 years. He was a
charter member of Congregation Beth-Ha-Tephila and he came to Asheville in 1887.
-The Bon Marche Department Store operated by Solomon Lipinsky.
-A Jewish postman who delivered mail by the name of Barney Seigle. I was particularly
interested in Barney because he had a sister by the name of Ester, who was in my class in
high school — a beautiful and affectionate student.
-An industrialist named Seigfred Sternberg.
-Dan Michalove, who worked at the first movie houses in town and finally advanced to
Vice-President of Paramount Pictures and was put in charge of all their theaters in
Australia.
-Lou Pollock, who operated a shoe store at the corner of South Main and Eagle Streets.
He once ran a shoe sale for $.98 a pair.
-Leo Cadison, who came here for his health, operated a ladies clothing store on Pack
Square, finally moved to Washington, D.C., and became an attorney by act of Congress.
He was a speech writer for the Attorrney General of the United States.
-An orthodox Rabbi by the name of Londow.
-Morris Myers served as Exalted Ruler of the Old Elks Lodge #608.
�In 1883 Jews were arriving to become pioneers in the Asheville community. Some came
to make a better livelihood and for opportunity. The moderate climate and mountain air attracted
others to Asheville, a growing medical haven for the sufferers of chronic respiratory diseases.
Congregation Beth-Ha-Tephila
August 23, 1891, twenty-seven men met in Lyceum Hall and adopted a constitution for
Congregation Beth-Ha-Tephila. Among the charter members were the Blomberg, Lipinsky, and
Zagier families. It is noted that the dues were $10 a year, payable in advance. Lyceum Hall was
the first home of the Congregation. It was rented from a fraternal order for $75 a year.
Congregation Bikur Cholim
Rabbi Londow became the rabbi for Congregation Bikur Cholim whose articles of
incorporation were filed in the Court Clerk’s office in February 1899. The incorporators were
J.B. Schwartzberg, A. Blomberg, Sam Feinstein, S.H. Michalove, A. Shenbaum, M. Zuglier, and
R.B. Zagier.
Since the community could not pay Rabbi Londow a decent wage, he operated a Jewish
grocery store on the side. He was a kindly old gentleman with a big beard, wore his hat around
the grocery store at all times except when a lady called him on the telephone. He would remove
the hat during the conversation and put it back on his head after the phone call.
I remember a big barrel of herring in the center of the store. Plain herring were 5 cents
each and milk herring ten cents.
A newly married lady in the Congregation once called Rabbi Londow and complained
that a duck she bought from him was old and too tough to eat. Rabbi Londow asked what she
expected him to do --- look down the duck’s mouth and count its teeth!
The first religious services of Bikur Cholim I remember attending were on the second
floor of a building at the corner of Patton Avenue and Church Street. It was early in the life of
Bikur Cholim that the congregation split up due to a big argument. Half of the members formed
another congregation and called it Anshei Hashuron. They rented a second floor of an apartment
house at the corner of Central Avenue and Woodfin Street. However, through the efforts of the
impartial moderates, a compromise was reached and a permanent division averted.
Nevertheless, the apartment was kept for a religious school. It was here I received my
first Hebrew lesson. Rabbi Fox was teaching us the four questions to ask at our Passover meal.
At this time my father would attend all the board meetings of Bikur Cholim. He would
come home upset and nervous. Dr. Smith suggested he not attend any more Synagogue meetings
due to his high blood pressure.
Rabbi Fox was active on the 9th and 10th degrees of Scottish Rite Masonry. After his
death I assumed his parts in these degrees and I am still on the degree teams.
�Orthodox rules and Hebrew School
75 to 100 years ago there were two synagogues in Asheville. My family belonged to the
orthodox.
The orthodox had strict rules for obeying the Sabbath which began Friday at sundown
and ended Saturday night. The members of Bikur Cholim who owned an automobile would put
them in the garage on Friday evening to observe the Sabbath and wouldn’t take them out until
Saturday after sun down. Most of the members lived within walking distance of the Synagogue.
To obey the Sabbath correctly you were not allowed to operate a business, spend money, smoke,
strike a match, work, cook and many other activities were forbidden. Remember this was about
100 years ago.
You weren’t supposed to tear paper. Now if you had a bathroom with paper on a roll,
you tore the paper off for Friday in case it may be needed for the Sabbath.
The same rule applies to outhouses with old Sears Roebuck catalogues.
As far as I know none of these rules are observed today.
In 1911, erection of a house of worship was started on South Liberty Street for
Congregation Bikur Cholin. Although it wasn’t completed until 1916, the Hebrew School
moved there in 1912. When I was 11 years old I attended Hebrew school conducted by the rabbi
on Saturday morning in the edifice of the synagogue. The sanctuary contained nothing but pews
and a coal stove for heat. The basement was used for storage and rest rooms. In the winter time
the rabbi fixed the stove for a fire Friday so that it could be lit Saturday morning to produce heat
for the Hebrew class.
Since the rabbi shouldn’t light a fire or spend money on the Sabbath, he arranged for a
boy in the neighborhood to light the fire Saturday morning. He placed a dime under a prayer
book Friday and told the boy where to get a dime after lighting the fire on Saturday.
Even in those days educational institutions had trouble with rebelling students. One real
cold morning the boy didn’t show up to light the fire. We were attending Hebrew class in
sweaters, coats and overcoats and it was awful cold. I asked to be excused and coming up from
the basement I reported to Rabbi Redunsky that the plumbing must have frozen as there was
water leaking in several places. The Rabbi went to see about it. I advised the class that there
were no broken pipes and suggested that we leave the building --- which we did --- not to return
until warm weather.
For your information, there was no water leaking.
While my sisters Rosa and Hilda and I were still children and our parents were out of
town for health reasons, Doctor Schandler’s father Dave Schandler, would invite us over to his
house for meals, especially on Passover and other religious holy days.
About this time when our house at 213 Broadway was being built, I was sliding down a
�sloping board and got a big splinter in my rear end. My father couldn’t get it out so he took me
to Dr. Mann, the dentist, and he got it out --- no charge.
The building of the Synagogue was completed in 1916 and the day before the eve of
Rosh-Hashonah a fire completely destroyed the building. Mrs. Rosenfeld had a Jewish Boarding
House next door and she cried and complained that she had just cleaned her house for Yontiff
and smoke had dirtied the place up. The Masonic Temple was offered to us to use for the High
Holy Day Services and we accepted.
After the fire that destroyed Bikur Cholim Synagogue on South Liberty Street the second
floor of the Sondley Building on Broadway was rented for the use of the congregation. A
member of the congregation, a young man, forgot he had made a date with a waitress in the
Langren Hotel and attended the meeting of the congregation. The lady waited in front of the
Masonic Temple with a gun and took a shot at him after the meeting when he was leaving the
building. She missed. After going to Hebrew School in the building we would stop and examine
the hole the bullet made in the front wall of the building.
The Cemetery
In those days Asheville was a place that offered a cure for tuberculosis. Many
sanatoriums were located in the hills around town. A Jewish man died in one of the sanatoriums
and had no money or family. No cemetery in town would bury him unless someone paid $100
for the grave. It was then that nine Jewish men formed the “West Asheville Hebrew Cemetery
Association Inc.” My father was the first president. In their bylaws it was stated that anyone of
Jewish faith could be buried there. The price of a grave was $100 and if there was no one to pay
it there would be no charge. The cemetery changed it’s name some years later to “Mt. Sinai
Cemetery” and sometime after to “The Lou Pollock Memorial Park.” After father died, Lou
Pollock became president. After his death, I was the vice-president and assumed the duties of
the president. I conferred with David Adler and set up a meeting between the directors of the
cemetery and members of Beth Israel. The ownership of the cemetery was transferred to Beth
Israel.
The following names of the nine founders can be seen on a plaque at the entrance to the
cemetery bearing the date 1916: Sam Feinstein, Isaac Michalove, Lou Pollock, S.W. Silverman,
Sender Argentar, Rabbi Elias Fox, Dave Schundler, Barney Pearlman, Harry Finkelstein.
Benevolent Societies
Around this time my father felt that some homemade chicken soup would help the Jewish
patients in the sanatoriums. A number of Jewish women set up a kitchen and once a week hot
chicken soup was made available to the Jewish patients and to others who requested it.
Rabbi Fox acquired business interests in Asheville and served as part-time Rabbi. He
was associated with a local butcher who made kosher meat available. He would go by the homes
of members and kill the chickens.
In 1917, some of us young Jewish boys decided that we ought to have a YMHA or a
Community Center in Asheville. Rabbi Fox met with us and suggested that we form a YMHA.
�He said a community center was for the community only, but a bigger and better organization
would be a YMHA because it extended from coast to coast. He told us a story about when he
first came to this country and wanted to see the Brooklyn Bridge. He found a man who could
talk Yiddish and after looking at the bridge he asked why they built the bridge with a lot of little
cables instead of one big cable. The man explained to him that if one or two cables broke it
would not harm the bridge, but if there was one big cable and it broke the bridge would fall in.
Rabbi Fox said that therefore us boys should be little cables and hold up the YMHA we were
going to form.
Mr. Sternberg and Mr. Leavitt
Seventy-five years ago there was no United Way in Asheville. There were many local
charitable organizations sponsored by churches, synagogues, houses of worship, also the
YMCA, the Salvation Army, the Elks Lodge and the Jewish Ladies Aid Society. Lion Joe
Sternberg’s father was active in civic, religious, fraternal organizations in Asheville. At that
time he was collecting donations for the “Ladies Aid Society” of Asheville. He went to see Mr.
Leavitt who operated a ladies ready to wear store on South Main St. near Pack Square. He
wouldn’t donate more than $5 and this didn’t please Mr. Sternberg.
Mr. Sternberg was the owner of the building in which Mr. Leavitt operated his store. He
found Mr. Leavitt violated the terms of his lease because he sublet a portion of the store for a
shoe department. Mr. Sternberg told Mr. Leavitt that he would have to give the Ladies Aid
Society a suitable donation or vacate the building because he had violated the terms of the lease.
They selected three men to determine what amount Mr. Leavitt should give the Ladies Aid
Society. It was agreed that the amount they decided would be satisfactory to Mr. Sternberg and
Mr. Leavitt.
Mr. Sternberg selected a man to represent himself. Also Mr. Leavitt picked out the
second man. They needed a man to represent both of them and finally selected my father. The
committee decided that Mr. Leavitt should donate $500 to the Ladies Aid Society.
------ In 1936, the movements in founding a Jewish Community Center and to organize
Federated Jewish Charities in Asheville was started by Julius Levitch through B’nai B’rith. In
1947 a testimonial dinner was held for his outstanding service to the Jewish Community.
----- On July 25, 1923, the Emporium Department Store owned by Jack Blomberg at the
corner of Pack Square and South Main Street was destroyed by a major fire. It was feared that
the entire block of Eagle Street would be destroyed. Many of the Jewish merchants who
operated clothing stores in the block brought their insurance polices and books to the pawnshop
across the street and requested that we put them in our safes which were two of the largest
moveable safes in town. These two safes are now located at 21 Broadway.
My father and the Sheriff’s Department
In the early days of the century, my father would give each member of the Buncombe
County Sheriff’s department cuff links for a Christmas present.
In appreciation, the Sheriff would always send my father a gallon of corn whiskey. We
�always thanked the Sheriff for his gift even though none of my family drank corn whiskey.
Flanders 20
About 75 years ago the Studebaker Corporation made two automobiles - the Flanders 20,
20 horsepower and the Emf. 30, 30 horsepower. My family owned a Flanders 20.
To start the engine you used a hand crank in front of the auto. You lowered the spark
control lever because if you didn’t, you might get a kickback on the crank and get your arm
broken.
If you had a flat tire, you had to raise the wheel with a hand jack, take the tire off and fix
the inner tube with patches that you always carried with you. You had a hand pump to inflate
the tire again.
Some owners of the Flanders 20 bragged that sometimes they could drive up the hill on
South Main Street (now Biltmore Ave.) from Depot St. to Pack Square in high gear and they
didn’t have to shift to a second gear.
There was a dirt road to Hendersonville. Some of it was red clay that would become
slick when it rained. One small section of the road became very slick due to its location. There
was a man there with a mule. For a small fee he would hitch the mule to the front of the auto
and pull you out of the bad place with the help of the engine of the car.
We were invited to a wedding in Hendersonville by Mr. Lewis whose sister, Rose, was
getting married to a young attorney named Joe Patece. He practiced law in Asheville for many
years. We took our Flanders 20 to the wedding with a couple of our friends. We had no trouble
as it didn’t rain. Coming back to Asheville we got a flat tire near Skyland and stopped to fix it.
We noticed a lot of berries growing near the road and we all began to eat them. A farmer
saw us and accused us of stealing his berries. He took out a warrant for my father. The trial was
to be heard by a Justice of Peace in Skyland. My father employed a young lawyer by the name
of Bob Reynolds. Bob Reynolds in later years became a U.S. Senator.
The Justice of Peace office was too small to hold the crowd that came to the trial so it
was held under a large oak tree outdoors. I heard that Bob gave a great speech to the crowd and
the Justice of the Peace ordered my father just to pay the farmer a small amount for the berries.
The moral of this event is: Don’t eat wild berries beside an old road. You are liable to
have more troubles than a stomach ache.
Beginning to work
When I was eight years old, I started selling newspapers. I wasn’t doing very good so my
father gave me job in the pawnshop at 50 cents per week. I had to save 25 cents of it. I was to
work when there was no school activity or important events pertaining to my education. I was
given Saturday afternoon off to go fishing and Saturday morning to see a serial movie at the
�Galaxy movie house on pack square.
Many people left their musical instruments as collateral for loans I tried out my musical
ability on a guitar, a ukulele, a violin and a saxophone. I took violin lessons from Mr.
Popatards, piano lessons from Mrs. Cliphant. My mother insisted that I practice on the piano
one hour a day.
School
In 1911, I started school at Montford Avenue Grammar School.
In 1922, I went to UNC-Chapel Hill for 2 days, and had to come home to run the
pawnshop.
In the February 1922 graduating class in Asheville High School, there were 5 boys and
14 girls. Therefore, each boy was expected to take 3 girls to the Senior Class Dance of February
1922. Things were better when we had a dance for the entire school. There were three Jewish
girls in the total 1922 class — Madeline Blomberg, Eva Sternberg, and Ester Seigle.
I was the only student to take an automobile to school in 1922. It was a Paige make with
a “bathtub back” model. I was the business manager of the “Hillbilly,” the school monthly
magazine. I was given any study hall period off that I wanted to collect for ads that appeared in
the magazine, so I would take my auto and a girl to help me from the study hall. After collecting
for one ad we would ride over to the Charlotte Street Drug Store and participate in ice cream
sodas for the balance of the study hall period.
Asheville Dixie Jazz Band
In 1921, Jr and a violin player from Lewis Funeral Home, Frank McCormiak, formed the first
musical outfit Asheville High School ever had.
Below is a poem from an issue of the 1921 school paper, “The Hillbilly.”
The Dixie Jazz Band
Boys and girls, have you heard the news,
A new way to get lively without any booze,
Just come around and give us your hand,
We’re the members of the “Dixie Jazz Band.”
We play and play and never get weary,
We’ll jazz you up and make you cherry,
We’ll make you dance and never set still
You’ll have to shimmy, against your will
The drummer is a drummer by trade,
The fiddler is a musician, self-made,
The flute is the best you’ve ever heard,
The mandolin sounds like a mocking bird.
Leo Finkelstein
�Pisgah 1922
In reporting from my historical records on Lion Joe Sternberg, president of our club in
1960-61, I’ve talked about his father, old man Sternberg and Joe’s sister, Eva.
I reported that Lion Joe and I were seniors in the 1922 class of Asheville High School.
Now, Lion Joe’s mother, Mrs. Sternberg, phoned me and advised me that she was entertaining
Joe and three other members of the 1922 class with a trip to the top of Mt. Pisgah. Eva
graduated in 1921 but wanted to go with them. Her mother asked if I would like to go and look
after Eva if she went, and I told her that I would be delighted.
They all picked me up the next morning and Mrs. Sternberg drove us to the home of Mr.
& Mrs. Rufus O’Kelly who lived at the base of Mt. Pisgah in her 7 passenger Mormon
automobile. We had lunch of possum and sweet potatoes.
There was one dirt road (one way) to the top of Mt. Pisgah, 5 miles long. An auto had to
go up in the morning at daylight and was allowed to come down after 1 PM until dark. We hiked
to a cleared section. Mr. O’Kelly chaperoned the trip and built us a large bonfire and was fixing
something to eat.
Eva was unpacking some things and I noticed a large bottle of Bromo-Seltzer. I asked if
she expected someone to have a headache. She said, “No, I opened a pint bottle of father’s
bottled whiskey, took half of it and filled the Bromo-Seltzer bottle. Now you and I can have a
drink before we eat.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said, “but what is your father going to say when he finds out?”
She said, “no problem. I filled the empty half of the whiskey bottle with water.” At nighttime
she and I sat around the fire drinking a few drinks of Bromo-Seltzer.
----- On Sundays in 1925, the Jewish crowd of teenagers and somewhat older boys and girls
would gather at the home of the Sternbergs on Victoria Road. The Sternbergs had four children:
Eva, Joe, Johanna, and Rose. One of the older girls in the crowd was named Jennie. One day I
asked her how she managed to be so popular among the boys, and her answer was, “Well, I’m
not so pretty, but I’m catchie”.
----- I dated Eva and one night I called at the house to take her out and her father yelled to us
from the second floor of the house “Don’t you go to no road houses,” and Eva replied “What’s
the matter papa --- you afraid we are going to find you there!”
William Jennings Bryan
On July 7, 1896, William Jennings Bryan delivered the “Cross of Gold” speech and won
the Democratic party nomination for Vice President of the United States.
In 1900 he was nominated again for Vice President.
In 1908 he was nominated for President of the United States.
Later in life he moved to Asheville and his home was at the corner of Evelyn place and
Kimberly Avenue--just a few houses away from where Lion Jack Cole now lives.
�Mr. Bryan asked by father to order him a special made double barrel Parker shot gun with
28" barrels modified and choke bores, and a 23/4 inch drop.
After receiving the gun he wrote my father a letter of thanks. I had this letter in my
historical files and it disappeared. Now I don’t know whether to blame it on the Democrats or
Republicans.
The Emporium Fire of 1923
On July 25, 1923, the Emporium Department store owned by Jack Blomberg at the
corner of Pack Square and South Main Street was destroyed by a major fire. It was feared that
the entire block of South Main Street (Biltmore Avenue) would be destroyed
Many of the merchants who operated clothing stores in the block brought their insurance
policies and books to Finkelstein ‘s pawnshop across the street and requested that we put them
in our safes which were two of the largest moveable safes in town. The two safes are now
located at 21 Broadway.
Sewing Machine Mystery
A sewing machine was brought in for a loan. The next day some ladies from a church
walked in from a church society identified the machine and claimed it had been stolen from the
church. The pawn ticket was hunted.
“What’s the name on the record?” one of the women inquired.
It was read off.
“What!” Shrieked the group in unison. “That’s the name of our pastor!”
And, the mystery was cleared up. The fact that someone else had pawned the machine
giving the reverend’s name.
III. Asheville in the 1930's
Lions Club
I remember when I became a member of the Asheville Lions Club in 1930. The club had
16 members and I was the 17th. Our meetings were held at the S.W. Cafeteria on Patton Ave. In
a meeting room on the second floor. A good meal could be had at a cost of less than one dollar.
I remember when the club’s membership reached 100 held a stag party at the ski club on
top of Beaucatcher Mountain. Out of 100 members we had 97 attend. Three were absent on
account of being out of town The club was operated by Boyd and Albertine Maxwell and their
daughter was the hostess Albertine was a professional dancer and she did a ‘snake dance’ to
entertain the party. Lion Dan Furr fixed us a special drink consisting of a assortment of fluids
that we called “Scrape the bottom.” We had a big spaghetti dinner. The cast of the evening was
$1.50 per member. The young lady who was hostess, in appreciation of me bringing the Lions
Club there for a party, taught me to dance the “Charleston,” a new dance that had just started.
I remember when I drove my new automobile to the Stag Party with Lion John Thayer.
The automobile was an Terraplane Sedan that Lion Johnnie Groome sold me. It had an electric
�gear shift controlled by buttons on the steering wheel. It also had a stick shift in front of the
center of the front seat that could be used when the electric shift failed to work. Going down
Beaucater Mountain in the Terraplain, Lion John Thayer who had drank a substantial amount of
Scrape the bottom,” acted funny, yanked the gear shift stick loose and threw it out of the car into
the woods of Beaucatcher mountain. The next day Lion John and I searched the woods, found
the stick shift and replaced it.
I remember when the club held a “womanless wedding” at a Ladies Night Banquet
March 14, 1939 and Lion Dan Furr was the flower girl.
I remember when in 1939 the club presented a pair of lions to the city zoo and a few
weeks later a baby lion was born. It was named “Leo.”
I remember when an alarm clock was placed at the speaker’s table at the club meetings
set to alarm at 2 o’clock with a sign: OUR MEETING CLOSES A 2 O’CLOCK AND WE DO
NOT APPRECIATE DIRTY JOKES.
I remember when Jack Cole was president of the Asheville Lions Club. We held a ladies
night banquet at the Battery Park Hotel. Lion Jack invited a U.S. Congressman, Lion Roy
Taylor, to make a talk for the gathering. It took Lion Jack 20 minutes to introduce Congressman
Taylor. Roy Taylor in response said that there must be a mistake. “It looks like Lion Jack Cole
was to give the address and I should have introduced him.”
I remember when City Manager Burdette announced to City Council that the police
department’s new traffic bureau will begin operating and that ordinances will be strictly
enforced. Mr. Burdette left no doubt in the minds of a Lion’s Club committee who called to
complain about the parking problem.
I remember when Lion Joe Dave announced that the club delivered five pigs to the
Candler Pig Club in connection with the Chamber of Commerce’s plan for improvement of
water in North Carolina’s livestock through cooperation of civic clubs.
I remember when in 1938 at a Lions Club golf Tournament I promised to give a prize for
the winner of the first flight. I wrote a check for $1,000 and since I won the first flight, I
presented the check to myself.
I remember when Lion Roy Phillips, advertising director of the Asheville Citizen-Times
talked to me as President of the Lion’s Club and wanted the Club to sponsor a Turtle Race and
buy a page ad in the newspaper. I told him to present it to the board of directors that I wouldn’t
take the responsibility of investing in a turtle race. He told me I couldn’t be a good president of
the club and let grass grow under my feet. I told him that he wasn’t talking to one of his
advertising salesman that he was talking to me as President of the club and if he wanted a turtle
race to present it to the board of directors at their regular meeting. There was no turtle race.
I remember when I was dating a nice young lady in Asheville by the name of Pearl.
Pearl was hostess in a restaurant I used to eat at. The Lions Club was giving a Ladies Night
�dinner and Governor Hoey was to be our speaker. I was told that I couldn’t bring Pearl.
Governor Hoey’s daughter was coming to the dinner and I’d have to set with her at the
speaker’s table. It was an uneventful monotonous dinner and when it was over I told the
governor’s daughter good night and I went to see Pearl.
I remember when a member missed over two meetings Lion Charles Berryman who
operated a funeral home would send his ambulance to bring the member to the meeting.
I remember when a member missed over three meetings without an excuse. Lion Judge
Sam Cathey would send a police car to present the member with the following summons:
[City of Asheville etc etc]
I remember when I had a phone call from my golf caddie named “Cris” on a Saturday
and advised me that Lion Judge Cathey had given him 30 days in jail for fighting and that he
wouldn’t be able to caddie for me Sunday. That was a disaster for without “Cris” I just couldn’t
play a good game of golf. I called Lion Judge Cathey and advised him of the situation and he
told me he would reduce Cris’s sentence from 30 days to one day and for me to go down to the
jail and get him.
I remember when I was invited to Lioness Hudson’s house for Thanksgiving dinner. She
called me the day before and said that Lion Judge Cathey had put her cook in jail and she had
no one to cook the dinner. I called Lion Judge Cathey again and told him about it. He arranged
for Lion Hudson’s cook to cook over Thanksgiving dinner.
I remember when Lion Judge Cathey was named the National Handicap Man of the Year
and several of us Lions went to Washington with him receive the award from President
Eisenhower.
I remember when mimic political campaign speeches by members of the Lions Club were
featured at the S.W. Cafeteria during their meeting. In the comic program, four members
representing four political parties made “pleas” for support of their candidates for president.
Lion Schorr urged the club to vote for Herbert Hoover, Lion Roy Phillips upheld Franklin D.
Roosevelt, Lion Nat Friedman asked that William D. Upshaw be given the club’s support and I
talked at length on Norman Thomas, socialist candidate.
I remember when Lion Dan Stewart, Lion Charlie Miller and I went to Havana, Cuba for
an International Convention. We drove to Miami and took the boat to Havana. After the
convention - trying to get back to Miami we found it was going to be three days before we could
get passage on the boat. I didn’t want to wait three days in Havana so I phoned my girl friend
Reggie who was secretary to the Mayor of Miami Beach. She told me she would take care of the
situation and for me to go down to the boat office and they would give me passage on the next
boat to Miami. She told the boat office they needed me as a witness in a court case, so I spent
the night in a big chair in the lounge of the boat that night going to Miami. Reggie and I met
Lion Stewart and Lion Ch. Miller in a couple of days and took them fishing.
�I remember when on July 10, 1940 the Lions club held a meeting which was described by
Lion C.E. Hudson as “in truth the most gratifying gathering of all times in Asheville, of its
kind.” It was described by the Asheville Citizen as the largest and most representative civic
organization gathering in Asheville in recent years. It was an inter-club banquet and first
annual award of the Asheville Lions Club to the most useful civic club member in the city of
Asheville, 1939-1940.
The idea of this banquet was presented to the Civic Club Union by Lion Jim Divelbiss
and myself. They assisted the Lions Club and picked Robert Lee Ellis of the Coca-Cola bottling
Company as Asheville’s most useful civic club member in the 1939-40 year. He received a
bronze plaque from the Lions Club which he said he would cherish as long as he lived.
More than 300 persons representing every civic organization in the city attended the
banquet at the Battery Park Hotel. I got Gov. Sholtz of Flirda to make the principal address
.
Prohibition’s Waning Days
It was in 1933, after Franklin Roosevelt was elected president of the United States, that
the Volstead Act was repealed and it became legal to sell beer with an alcoholic content on
October 1st. I was president of a mens social club, and it became my duty to get beer to serve to
the members. This was a difficult job as none was available from distributors around Asheville.
1933 was the year of the Great Depression and Rabbi Goodkowitz bought a second hand truck
from Harry Blomberg and was doing some hauling on the side to supplement his income from
Bikur - Cholim. Rabbi Goodkowitz said he would go to Baltimore and get us a load of beer as
he personally knew the owner of the Valley Forge Beer Company there. I gave him six hundred
dollars of the club’s money and he left on a Monday to be back on Thursday. He didn’t show
up, but came in the following Monday. The delay was due to the truck breaking down on the
trip. Of course I was somewhat concerned but the club had a truck load of Valley Forge Beer
available.
Leo Cadison saw me and advised that he had talked to the United States Senator Robert
R. Reynolds, and the members were starting a campaign to sell the beer before October lst.
Captain Fred Jones of the Asheville Police Department and a member of the house
committee said he would not recommend selling it before the legal date.
At the club that week, I noted about 150 members were present instead of the usual 40.
Under “good and welfare” Senator Reynolds, a great orator, spoke in favor of selling the beer
and said that we were all brothers in a non-profit and charitable organization, and it would be
legal to sell it. Others who spoke in favor of selling the beer were Judge Philip Cocke, State
Senator; A. Hall Johnson, Superior Court Judge; Dan Hill, Postmaster; Marcus Erwin,
U.S.Attorney; Zeb Mettles, Superior Court Judge; Charles McRae, local attorney; and Leo
Cadison. Leo Cadison made a motion that we advise the House Manager to put the beer on ice
so that we could drink it after the meting. I advised Mr. Cadison that I could not accept a motion
�of an illegal nature but under Robert’s Rules of Parliamentary procedure he could appeal my
decision. He appealed and I advised that the question to be voted on would be “Shall the
decision of the chair stand” and there would be no discussion. The vote was unanimous against
my decision (which suited me) and I instructed the secretary to take everything out of the
minutes pertaining to beer, also to advise the house manager to put the beer on ice so we could
have it after the meeting. He said that it was too late to advise him because the beer had been on
ice for the past two hours.
How to Finance a Pawnshop in a Depression
It was the Depression of the 1930's. Our loans averaged $10 and we made them as low as
50 cents. The demand was great on loans on diamonds and jewelry. The top loan on a ½ carat
diamond was $50 and $200 on a good grade carat.
I was running out of money. I saw Perry at the Morris Plan Bank and we agreed to rent a
lock box at the Wachovia Bank. Both of us would have a key to it. I would hypothecate the
large size diamond and jewelry loans. The ways that worked is I would make the loan, get the
cash from Perry on a 90 day note, and put the jewelry in the lock box as security. If the customer
came to redeem his jewelry I advised him that jewelry was at the vault at the Wachovia for
safekeeping and I would get it for him.
This was working very well as the bank was making the legal rate of 6% on 90 day notes
which were paid in 30 to 40 days with no refund for unearned interest. I was doing OK also. I
charged interest at legal rates plus other expenses incident to the negotiations of the transactions.
Then Mr. Wolcott comes to town. He took over the Morris Plan Bank and organized the
Bank of Asheville. Perry, the new cashier at the Bank of Asheville, came to see me and said,
“Mr. Wolcott advised that the bank wasn’t a pawnshop and to tell Finkelstein to pay off those 90
day notes.” It looked like I was going to have to stop making large jewelry loans and try to meet
the 90 day note.
But a miracle happened. A girlfriend of mine in the 1922 class of Asheville High School
married a man from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, who later committed suicide. She came back to
Asheville to live. She saw me and wanted to know if I could help her out. She said she was left
a sizeable amount of life insurance and did I know of a safe place where she could invest some
of it and get a decent return.
I helped her out.
Police Chief Beavers
On the program of the Asheville Lions Club on July 8, 1992, Chief of Police Beavers
talked about prostitution in Asheville and how the APD was trying to cut the activity down.
I believe there may be a better way to cut the activity down.
In the year 1900 Asheville had a population of 14,694. My historical records indicate at
that time the red light district was known as the Eagle Terrace and was operated by a lady known
�as “Queen Elizabeth.” There were no problems.
The Banov family in Charleston, SC, are part of my kin folks. Doctor Banov was a
health physician for Charleston County, SC for 35 years. That was the longest any county health
physician stayed in office. In talking to him I found out that the red light district in Charleston,
SC, was a large house known as the “Red Brick” on Bensford St. The prostitutes had to have a
health certificate from a local doctor renewed every 90 days, frame it, and hang it on the wall by
her bed.
They had Police Protection.
In 1933 I was president of a fraternal order in Asheville. I had a good friend, Lt. Frank
Hagan of the local police dept. who was also a member. We decided to drive down to
Charleston, SC, for a convention. While in Charleston he said that he would like to go to the
“Red Brick” on Bensford Street and get information for the Asheville Police Dept. on how they
operated. I asked him how he expected to get in the place. He said “Don’t worry, I’ll get us
admitted.”
We went down to the “Red Brick” and Frank knocked on the front door. A lady opened a
peephole in the door to look at us and Frank said “Back again.” We were then admitted to a
large living room with red curtains. We picked out two of the girls in the living room and
invited them to have a seat with us and have a drink. The only drink available was a coca-cola
and the cost was 25 cents per drink. We asked them if their services would be available to
members of a convention and they said that they were. The cost of a short stay would be $3 and
for $5 a client could spend the night.
I gave the girls $3 each and advised them that all we wanted to do was talk and get
information for the convention - they were completely satisfied.
Now why don’t we get Chief Beavers to get someone like “Queen Elizabeth” to rent a
place like a small hotel, or a large home with red curtains, or a place suitable for a whorehouse
like the “Red Brick” in Charleston, SC. Serve soft drinks and ice cream at reasonable prices and
furnish police protection.
He might even get Lion Penland and me to open a pawnshop next door so that if a man
didn’t have enough money to finance his trip to the place, he could pawn his watch or his gun.
Don’t think all this would be legal, but its a thought anyway.
Streetwalking
A young lady friend of my family would pawn a diamond pen for $50.00. She was always
months past due on the redemption of it. I felt sorry for her and I didn’t let her pay any interest
or charges on any loan after her first loan.
After pawning it several times, she came in for a loan on the pen. She asked for one
hundred dollars. I told her that a hundred dollars was more than we could loan on it, that I
would loan her $50.00 again. She said that she needed a hundred dollars and what was I trying
to do, make a “street walker” out of her!
�The Preacher and the Bible
I helped a preacher financially conduct his Sunday’s services. Back in the depression
days of the 1930s there was a preacher who pawned his Bible every Monday morning after
Sunday’s services and redeemed it on the following Friday or Saturday for the next service on
Sunday. I made the original loan of $10 and advised the preacher that he could get it out at a
charge of $1 anytime in 30 days or if needed he could wait three months at no additional charge.
In checking the records I found that he had pawned the Bible weekly on many occasions.
On the next Friday morning when he came after his Bible I told him he didn’t owe anything on it
that he had paid more carrying charges that the original loan. I told him to put that $10 bill he
had next to the Ten Commandments in the Bible and the next time he needed $10 to take it out
and put it back in the Bible after Sunday’s service. Just don’t bring the Bible back here for a
loan. He didn’t.
John
I had a black man working for me by the name of “John”. There were street cars
available to ride from his home to work.
I was a law in Asheville that blacks had to ride in the back seats of the street car and the
whites rode in the front seats.
One day “John”n was riding in a front seat and wouldn’t move to the back of the bus.
He was arrested by the Asheville Police Department. I sent my lawyer, Mr. Fortune, to the
police court with him and he was fined the costs of the case.
A man redeemed a large size radio he pawned. After taking it home he advised us that
three of the tubes were missing. “John” kept the storage room where radio pledges were stored.
I sent a police detective to John’s home advising him of the situation. He checked the
numbers on John’s radio tubes and told “John” that the numbers on his radio tubes were the
same as the numbers that were on the missing tubes of our customer’s radio. John admitted
stealing the tubes.
We supplied new tubes for our customer’s radio. “John was fired from his job at the
pawnshop. I understood that he kept his usual custom of delivering sermons at his church on
Sundays.
I wanted to replace “John” so an employment agency sent me a young man named
“George”. I put George in the storage area for guns that were left as collateral on loans. He
stole a pistol and after an investigation, he returned it and I fired him.
Overcoats
During the depression of 1933 the pawnshop had 800 overcoats left at the beginning of
the summer. The loans were from $3 to $7 each, and 80% of the loans were past due. There was
a problem of moths. We put mothballs in the pockets of all overcoats and sprayed them with
DDT.
After the overcoats became more than 3 months past due we had them dry cleaned. We
made a contract with the cleaners to pick up and return lots of twenty at 50 cents each. The
owner of the cleaning company came in the shop and said that he wanted to buy an overcoat for
his chauffeur. He tried on one and liked it so much that he said he would keep it for himself and
give his to his chauffeur.
�It was during 1933 that we had only male clerks working in the pawnshop. There were
days when my father and I were both absent from the pawnshop due to health and other reasons.
When the overcoat pledges were past due and ready for the cleaners they were hung in a room
on the second floor of the pawnshop. Sometimes I would notice a couple of overcoats on the
floor of the pawnshop.
The electric lights went out on the second floor where the overcoats were. An electrician
was called to correct the trouble. It was found that the clerks would invite street walkers to
come up to the room at times when my father and I were absent. The electrician found a hole in
the floor where the wires were broken. In fixing the broken wires, he pulled about 50 dirty
handkerchiefs and other items that caused the trouble.
Murders in Pawnshops and Helping Sheriff L. Brown
You have probably read in the Citizen-Times about Mark Lane who was killed in a
shooting during an armed robbery. His father, Ronald Lane, and he were co-owners of the
Leicester Pawn Shop.
In a former historical report I talked about Reggie, secretary to the Mayor of Miami
Beach, who helped our delegation get faster transportation back to Florida from the International
Lions Convention in Havana, Cuba. Lion C.A. Miller was on that trip. Later Reggie’s brother
was killed in a holdup in his pawnshop on Flager Street in Miami. A lot of people classify a
pawnbroker as a shylock. Those pawnbrokers I have known are kind people and are a asset to
any community they operate in.
Of course you can exclude me.
In November 1934 Sheriff Lawrence Brown of Buncombe County came to see me and
said that he needed help. Beacon Manufacturing Company at Swannanoa was having labor
trouble and a group from South Carolina was coming up to prevent the employees from going to
work. He wanted to rent twenty 12 gauge shotguns to be used by special deputies to guard the
entrance to the plant.
I rented him twenty 12 gauge Harrington, Richardson shotguns for $1 each. He was
successful in guarding the plant and they never fired a shot. The sheriff phoned me and said that
he wanted to bestow upon me the honor of being a deputy sheriff and to come over and bring a
photo for an identification card. I told him I didn’t know anything about enforcing the law. He
said that was okay, to come over and he would swear me in and take out insurance on me.
I asked him if it was life insurance. He said, “No, it was liability insurance and if I did
anything wrong as a deputy sheriff that they would furnish me legal assistance in court.” I was
sworn in November 15, 1934.
I got a phone call the next morning from Mr. Seely, Manager of the Grove Park Inn. He
said that he needed a gun for his watchman, a 38 Saturday Night Special with a 4" barrel.
Sheriff Brown told him I could supply what he wanted. I told him I had it in stock and he asked
me to bring it out to the Inn. I got in my dilapidated Ford touring car, drove to the front entrance
�of the Inn and started to go in, when the Bell Captain stopped me.
He asked “What are you doing here?”
I replied “I have a gun for your watchman and Mr. Seely asked me to bring it out to him.”
“Well,” he said, “you take that gun to the back door. They have a barrel of money back
there and they will pay you for it.”
This was during the depression of the 30's and I had quoted Mr. Seely top price, and I
was going to do anything legal to complete the sale so I went to the back door.
Now I am happy to announce that at the present time I am allowed to go in the front
entrance to the Inn.
Guns and a Grandfather Clock
A friend of mine had a valuable antique clock about 6 feet tall. He said that he was
leaving home for a month and there was a lot of larceny going on. He would like to leave it with
me for safekeeping. I told him to put it in the storage area on the second floor of the shop.
A couple of days later a customer comes in and wants to buy a shotgun. It was summer
time and since hunting season didn’t open until fall I wondered why he wanted a shotgun. My
salesman said all the shotguns and shells were stored on the second floor and he would take the
customer up there. A little later I heard a big loud bang from the second floor. The salesman
came running down and said that the customer had committed suicide with a shotgun.
I called the Police Department and Dr. Baer, the coroner. Will Hampton, solicitor of
police court and the chief came over. I went to the second floor with them and we found the
customer passed out on the floor. I didn’t see any blood and upon examination we found part of
his clothing blown away under one arm and he wasn’t injured. It’s almost impossible to reach
the trigger of a 31" barrel shotgun when you have the muzzle at your chest. Evidently the
customer must have tried to reach the trigger and the muzzle slipped under his arm when the gun
fired.
I remembered the grandfather clock and found that the discharge from the gun blew some
of the plaster out of the wall about a foot from the clock. The clock was okay.
Dr. Baer asked for a pen. He said that he wanted to find out if the man really passed out.
He jabbed him several times with a pen and the man didn’t move. He really passed out. The
chief said that the man had violated a law and he would take charge of him.
The lesson from this event is: Don’t try to commit suicide - if you do you are liable to
get arrested.
A secretary’s thoughts
My name was Margaret Owen in 1936, when I was Leo Finkelstein’s secretary. It was
�the first job I ever had and he really taught me how to be office help. It was an exciting time to
work on Pack Square, which was the hub of Asheville’s business world at that time.
I remember that Mr. Finkelstein would lend me out to do typing for some of the Jewish
organizations he was participating with at that time. I worked for Lou Pollock when he was
head of the Jewish Cemetery, and Mr. Gustav Lichtenfeld and Sigred Sternberg when they were
working on getting Jewish people out of Germany. I wrote some of the letters which were
instrumental in bringing some of the early German Jews to Asheville, who then went on to
become very valuable citizens of Asheville, I know of Herbert Schiftan and his family, and Alfred
and Irmgard Lichtenfels. There were probably others that Mr. Finkelstein was responsible for
that he remembers, but I have forgotten.
I was in the store when the internees of Germany and Japan who were billeted at Grove
Park Inn came in, and Tom Wolfe came in to visit his friend, Bob Bunn. I was standing out front
one day when General George Marshall walked by on is way to the City Hall which was the Air
Force Headquarters as that time during World War II. We all were out front one day when
President Franklin D. Roosevelt visited Asheville to dedicate the Great Smoky National Park.
Mr. Finkelstein was more than a friend to many of the ethnic community of that time. I
believe that he was the contact for visiting rabbis, Jewish transient people who needed help and
communicated with them in Hebrew. All the employees learned to understand and communicate
(somewhat) by talking to each other in Yiddish.
Mr. Finkelstein played at least ten or twelve instruments, demonstrating in order to make
a sale or loan.
The Silver Shirts
In the 1930's William Dudley Pelly operated the “Silver Shirts,” a Nazi like organization
in a building across the street from the Jewish Community Center on Charlotte Street. He
published the “Liberation Weekly,” anti-Semitic literature with a circulation of eight thousand.
In a parade, I was playing the saxophone with the Asheville Shrine Club Marching Band,
and William Rosenfelt was carrying the American Flag. Pelly in his “Liberation Weekly”
published a story that we were disgraced by a Jew with a big nose carrying the American Flag.
Pelly was arrested by the Buncombe County Sheriff’s Department in 1941 for selling
unregistered stock. He was found guilty through the efforts of Julius Levitch, a young Jewish
lawyer by the name of Alvin Kurtus, and a local attorney named R.R. Williams.
Unnamed
William Rothenberg was a patient at the V.A. Hospital in Oteen. He moved to Asheville
to live, married Freda Gross. I gave him a job as salesman in the pawnshop. He would go back
to Oteen for treatments but was asked to stop. He got to drinking and was separated from his
wife.
A railroad watch from our display board was missing. A Taxi driver told me that
William Rothenberg went the watch to the other pawnshop in town by him and he pawned it
there for $20.00.
I checked the serial numbers on the watch and they were the same as the ones on our
watch. I asked Rothenberg about it and he said that he won it in a poker game the night before
�at the Langren Hotel. I checked with Fred Bradley, the night manager of the hotel and he
advised me that there was no poker game in the hotel that night.
Rothenberg got the drinking and Judge Cathey put him in jail with a sentence of 30 days.
Judge Cathey released him from jail after I promised to send him to Miami, FL where his ex-wife
was living. I bought him a bus ticket and told him not to return to Asheville. He did not return.
IV. I Am A Dime
I was born in the early part of the twentieth century at the United States Mint in
Philadelphia, put in a roll with forty-nine other dimes and shipped to the Southern State Bank on
Depot Street in Asheville, North Carolina, of which Mr. S. Sternberg was president. Mr.
Sternberg had a son, Joseph, who later became president of the Asheville Lions Club.
Mr. Sternberg took me and the forty-nine other dimes to his beautiful estate on Victoria
Road in order to participate in a ten cent limit poker game with some of his friends. Someone
tipped off the police that a game was going on. The home was raided and Mr. Sternberg gave
the names of the players as Mr. Aleph, Mr. Baze, Mr. Gimmel, Mr. Dolad, Mr. Hay, Mr. Vove,
Mr. Zion and Mr. Hess. The “Asheville Citizen” carried a story after the trial that an attorney
appeared in Police Court for Mr. Aleph, Mr. Baze, Mr. Gimmel, Mr. Dolad, Mr. Hay, Mr. Vove,
Mr. Zion and Mr. Hess and paid their fines. Very few people knew that Aleph, Baze, Gimmel,
Dolad, Hay, Vove, Zion, and Hess are the first eight letters of the Hebrew Alphabet.
I got separated from the other dimes that came to Asheville with me. I found myself in
the pocket of Chief Bernard of the Asheville Police Department. It was in November, 1906, that
the Chief phoned Uncle Harry, the pawnbroker, and said that ne needed firearms and
ammunition to equip a posse of fifty men in order to hunt Will Harris, a desperado. Will Harris
had shot and killed five men, of whom two were city policemen. Uncle Harry furnished the
posse with guns and ammunition, taking only the names of those receiving firearms. It was
reported that Will Harris spent the night in a barn in Buena Vista. The posse surrounded him in
a field near Fletcher and killed him. His body was brought to an undertaking establishment at
21 South Main Street, and hung out of the second story window in the building in order to show
the people that he had been killed and quieten them down. The next day, the Chief called
Uncle Harry and asked if all the firearms had been returned. Uncle Harry said they had and
commented that the people of Asheville were honest and good citizens. (Now, Thomas Wolfe,
famous author and native of Asheville used this event for a story published in the Saturday Evening Post
September 7, 1937. He also used it in a chapter in his book “The Child by Tiger.”
2
Bob Terrell, writer for the Citizen-Times talked about this event at one of our meetings.
In 1968 the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms in Washington required a record of every
pistol, rifle, revolver that we received and disposed of, as well as the model, caliber, serial number and
manufacturer. I recently checked the shop that I retired from 25 years ago and they have records of
2
Move note here on Thomas Wolfe etc.
�33,000 transactions since 1968 on hand.)
The Chief took me to Mr. Pappa’s Cafe on South Main Street, bought his lunch which
consisted of a ten cent bowl of soup, a good supply of free crackers and catsup.
Mr. Pappa’s brother operated the “Candy Kitchen” on Haywood Street. They were
making a lot of stick candy in the shape of walking sticks, colored red and white. The cafe
owner bought a half dozen walking sticks from his brother, using me as part payment. He said
that he was going to put the candy on his Christmas tree.
The next day Mr. Pappas, who lived on North Main Street, was coming to town in a rain
storm. North Main Street was paved but all side streets were not. They had stepping stones in
order to get across. Mr. Pappas slipped on a stepping stone, getting his shoes all muddy. He
stopped at the Pack Square Shoe Shine Parlor, got a shoe shine for five cents and gave the
shine boy a five cent tip.
The next thing I knew I was placed in a deposit for the Wachovia Bank and I stayed in
their vault until the year 1913. Uncle Harry picked me up to use in his petty cash. His son
asked for his weekly allowance and I was given to him with four other dimes. The son boarded
a South Main Street streetcar on Pack Square with a fishing pole and a can of worms. He got
off
at the Swannanoa River and walked a hundred yards toward the French Broad. In a couple of
house, he caught a nice string of hog suckers, horney heads and perch out of the beautiful clear
waters of the Swannanoa River. On his way home, he gave me to the conductor, received five
cents change and a transfer to the North Main streetcar in order to go home.
The Conductor carried me around a few days and then gave me to a lady on the
Riverside “open air” streetcar that ran to Riverside Park. Riverside Park was owned an
operated by the Asheville Power and Light Co., the same people who owned the street car
company that was finally gobbled up by Lion Smith’s Carolina Power and Light Co. This lady
gave me to her husband who went down to the Elk’s Club and lost me in a rummy game to a
distinguished looking attorney they called “Judge Cocke.” After the card game the “judge” sat
around talking to brother Elks and drinking beer. He was famous for his knowledge of North
Carolina, its people and places. He even talked about the house of ill repute in Asheville at the
turn of the century known as the “Eagle Terrace” run by a lady called “Queen Elizabeth.”
The next morning, Attorney Cocke defended a man in Police Court who was charged
with stealing a pair of shoes and pawning them because he couldn’t wear them on account of
being too small. The court ordered the man to leave town that day. The man said he was
hungry and didn’t have any money. So Attorney Cocke gave me with other change to him. The
man went down to the Asheville and East Tennessee Railway Company station at the corner of
North Main and College Streets. They operated an electric vehicle between Asheville and
Weaverville. The man smelled hot dogs cooking at D. Gross’s Hot Dog Stand next door, so he
spent me for a hot dog and a coca-cola. Mr. Gross raised and educated a family of thirteen
children from the money he earned at his hot dog stand.
Mr. Gross carried me around until Saturday night when he went to Liggett’s Drug Store
for some headache powders. He stopped in front of the drug store to listen to the Salvation
Army band while they were having a preaching and musical session.
He put me in a pot they were using to get donations for their annual Christmas party.
�The Salvation Army bought a second-hand truck from Lion Fred Brown to be used in delivering
food and clothing to the poor people in town. I was used in this transaction. Lion Brown took
me to a Lions Club meeting, where he used me to pay the dime he was fined by the “Tail
Twister” for falling asleep during the program.
The Tail Twister’s wife took possession of me and bought some ribbon at the Palais
Royal, a large department store on South Main Street, operated by Mr. Morris Myers.
I circulated around Asheville until 1918, and again, found myself in possession of Mr.
Sternberg. He had a large junk yard and warehouse on Depot Street that bought and sold
hundreds of cowhides. On all of his advertisements he carried the slogan “We buy anything and
sell everything.” A circus came to town and didn’t have enough money to leave. They applied to
Mr. Sternberg who was president of the Southern States Bank on Depot Street for a loan of
$200. Mr. Sternberg made the loan and took the elephant as collateral. He complained he was
losing money on account of the elephant eating so much. Otto Buseck who owned Middlemont
Gardens at that time raised his own flowers at a hot house in Candler. He helped Mr. Sternberg
out with the elephant - he bought the manure from him.
The next thing I recall was four o’clock on the morning of November 11, 1918. The fire
bell started to ring at the firehouse. The Armistice of World War I had been signed. People
gathered on Pack Square and built a huge bonfire. A fire truck came out of the firehouse to
shine its spot light on the American flag flying at the top of the Pack Square flag pole. People
were bringing their guns from home to the Square and shooting live ammunition into the air in
celebration.
The fellow who owned me brought a double-barrel shotgun to town and bought some
black powder shells from Otis Green Hardware Store. (Mr. Green years later became Mayor of
Asheville). The Chief of Police soon asked all stores selling ammunition to quit selling it as he
was afraid someone would accidentally get shot.
Mr. Green took me to the Southern Railway passenger station and bought a ticket to
New York from Pat Mulvaney, ticket agent. Frank Mulvaney, a brother to Pat, was a chief clerk
for the railroad. He later became councilman for the City of Asheville.
Pat took me to the Union News Company’s news stand in the station and bought two
five cent cigars. Later an engineer from the railroad bought a “Billboard” magazine, and I was
given to him in change for a dollar. He took me to the Glen Rock Hotel across the street, and I
was used in paying his bill. The clerk at the hotel bought some ice cream at Finley’s Drug Store
next door.
Mr. Finley gave me to his son, Bob, who took me to Montford Avenue School. Bob in
later years became the Supreme Court Justice for the State of Washington. Bob, on leaving
Montford Avenue School one day, took me to Mr. Book’s Grocery Store on Cherry Street and
bought some cookies. The people across the street from Mr. Book’s Grocery Store had a lot of
cherry trees on their land and they would pay boys from the school ten cents a quart to pick
cherries. Lion Carol Rhinehart picked a quart of cherries and received me in payment.
Lion Carl Rhinehart lost me in a marble game at school to Jack Roberts, who took me
home to 219 North Main Street. A creek ran parallel to North Main Street and emptied into the
French Broad. Jack found muskrats were running up and down the creek, so he recruited some
of the neighborhood boys who acquired steel traps and caught and sold the muskrat hides to St.
�Penick and Company, at the corner of North Main and Lexington.
The next thing I recall I was in the pants pocket of Lion Bill Michalove, who took me to
the Galaxy Theater on Pack Square in order to see a serial movie called “The Black Hand.”
Bill’s brother, Dan, was manager of the Asheville Theaters, and he finally became Vice
President of Paramount Pictures, with headquarters in Australia. Since Bill had an “in” at the
theaters in town, he would, on occasion, take his teen-age boy friends back stage at the
Majestic Theater, located at the corner of College and Market Streets, to view the chorus girls at
close range. Tommy Elkins, the stage manager, would keep a close watch on the boys in order
to see that they behaved themselves.
It was in 1922 when I was used as part payment for a second hand Jeffery automobile
bought by Harry Blomberg. Harry took his Jeffery Auto to Asheville High School on Oak Street.
Someone dropped me on Market Street and I rolled down a storm sewer. I stayed there for a
long time and one day a man from the city’s water department found me and used me in a
donation to the Democratic Party of Buncombe County.
The chairman of the Party put me in a 10 cents slot machine at a social club.
The player who won me at the slot machine would always put me back, hoping to win
more. I circulated in and out of the slot machine until 1950, when Lion Dr. Feldman won me.
Dr. Feldman had a reputation of never buying anything unless he could get it wholesale. Dr.
Feldman put me in the zipper change section of his pocketbook, and now I haven’t seen the
light of day for twenty years.
V. Jewish Jitter Bugs3
A bug is an insect. A Jitter Bug is an insect that jumps from place to place. A Jewish Jitter Bug
is a professional bum, claiming Jewish faith— jumping around from city to city — living off the
sympathy of his misinformed brothers - other Jews.
For twenty years, I have seen this bunch of crooks take from $300 to $400 a year out of my
community. I have learned their stories, their approach, their methods, and in fact, I can tell one just by
the sight of him. I have seem them go north in the summer-time, and south in the wintertime. I have been
awakened at all hours of the night by them, tracked down on Sundays and holidays. I have to put up with
them coming in my place of business, with no courtesy to me, or respect for my customers. I have to
watch them go away most always with a dissatisfied growl for what help they get, and seldom do I hear a
“Thank You”. I have to battle their high-powered maneuvers of artistic chiseling without the help or
appreciation of the Jewish Community in which I live.
Who are these people? Why, they are Jews — sure, they are a bunch of professional racketeers
that cost the Jewish public about one million dollars per year. If a Jew gets to a city and is broke - why,
the other Jews are supposed to help him out. What he is or what he does or where he comes from - don’t
make any difference - as long as he is a Jew that is all that is necessary. That is what you might think —
but I don’t!
There is not one Jewish transient in five hundred worthy of any help at all. They travel from
place to place using the fact that they are Jews to prey upon other Jews. Many of them are ex-convicts,
3
Cite reference
�some just ordinary bums, and all of them liars.
In this army of rogues, you will not find one who has a friend or relative who they could obtain
help from. I have offered to wire to any person for hundreds of them, but they will tell ;you that all their
friends or relatives are broke, or that they wouldn’t think of asking any of them for money. Common
sense will tell you that, if a transient is worthy, there must be someone in this world who will help him to
some extent. I am sure if any of you gentlemen were to find yourself broke in some far off place, that you
would have at least one friend or relative to whom you could wire for help. These swindlers don’t want
to get help from friends or relatives. They are just traveling around, enjoying life in a peculiar way, and
living on the Jewish public, their so-called brothers.
So, when these Jewish Brothers of ours come to town, what are we supposed to do with them?
The only sensible thing we can do is to get rid of them as quickly and as cheaply as possible.
The most common type of transient is the ordinary bum who claims that he has a job in a nearby
city. All he wants from you is a couple of meals in a good restaurant, a room with a bath in a clean hotel,
transportation to the place he is going, and maybe a pair of shoes, a couple of shirts and an overcoat. In
order to get rid of this man quickly you must start talking before he does. So when I spot one, I start
talking first. I ask him if he wants some help, and as soon as he says “Yes” I hand him a half-dollar, a
meal ticket to a nearby restaurant, and tell him to get the hell out of town as fast as he can. Most of them
will take this and leave because they know, through their grapevine system, that this is all they can get.
This system even informs them where to go to when you get to a town, and that is why nobody see the
majority of these people, except myself. Some of them insist that they have a special story to tell you
about their hard luck, and that they re different from the rest. These stories would make some of you
break down and weep, but to me these stories are just a bunch of fabricated lies.
Then, we have the group of transients who are physically disabled. Some are partially blind and
crippled. They will claim to have tuberculosis, nervous indigestion, high blood pressure or what-not.
Some will claim to have a combination or complication of diseases, or an assortment of ailments. If I am
convinced that the transient is really ill, then I buy him transportation to the nearest point, and get him out
of town as fast as I can. These people are never given cash for their transportation. A check is written to
the Bus Station for their ticket, and the Bus Station has instructions to issue a ticket stamped “No
Refund”.
This method was adopted after I found out some cashed their tickets back in, in order to get cash,
and bummed rides out on the highway to get to where they were going.
A decent looking, elderly lady once appealed to me for help. She stated that she was almost
blind, and was traveling with her son who was so crippled he couldn’t walk. She told me that she and her
son had come in on a bus late the night before, and were at a small hotel near the bus station. She advised
me that her son was ill in bed, that she was out of funds, could not pay her hotel bill, had nothing to eat,
and no way to get to a nearby city where her son was going to enter a hospital. “A worthy case, at last!”
I thought. I took her name, and ask her to come back in an hour, and I would see what I could do for her.
I inquired at the hotel, and found that nobody by the name she gave me was there. I asked her about this
when she returned, and she said that she did not use her real name since it was Jewish, and she didn’t
want people to think she was Jewish. I called the hotel again and inquired about the new name she had
given me, and the hotel informed me that the two of there were register there, but that her son seemed
healthy, and was in and out of the hotel all day long. Asking her about this, she explained that her son
went out only when he had to go to the drug store for medicine. It was cold and raining outside, so I
called the hotel, and told them I would pay their bill, gave her enough for food, bought her two bus
tickets, and gave her instructions to get out of town, by night without fail. It wasn’t long before I
received a phone call from a Jewish person in town stating that this old lady had called on him, and pe
proceeded to cuss me out for not giving her any help. To make a long story short--she called on three
more persons in the city with the same story - that I would not help her. A couple of hours later I went by
the hotel where she was staying and found that she had checked out and left in her room many pieces of
clothing that had been given to her by these people she had called on in the city.
�Then we have the rabbis. They are a wonderful type of transient to deal with. They usually get
to town on Friday, so you have to keep them over “shabbos”. That means an expense of two nights
lodging and meals for a whole day. In fact, all the transients who arrive on Friday are “very religious”
and won’t travel on Friday night or Saturday. I’ve had many rabbis promise to send me back the money I
gave them, and never yet has one of them sent back a penny. In fact, of the hundreds of promises that
I’ve had from all kinds of transients to return money given them, never has one kept his promise.
The president of the orthodox congregation once phoned me, and told me that a rabbi was at this
house m and that this rabbi was a very fine person, a scholar, and a gentleman, a man is in need, and
suggested that I give him $5. I was just ready to leave my house, and I informed the president that I did
not have time to interview the rabbi myself, but that if he thought the man was worthy, to give him $5,
and I would return that amount to him later. I happened to pass by the president’s house just as the rabbi
was leaving there, and I took a good look at him. The next morning, the same rabbi was at my place of
business, wanting to know if I took care of the Jewish transients. He wasn’t a rabbi anymore, and he had
changed his name. I told him to come along with me, and I would take him to the man who could help
him. He got into the front seat of my automobile, and wanted to know where we were going, and when I
told him we were going to see the president of the orthodox congregation, he jumped out and ran. I ran
after him, and caught him on Patton Avenue. He started yelling like I was going to murder him, and a
crowd started to gather, so I let him go, and he ran away again. I haven’t seen him since.
Another Rabbi once appealed to me for help, and he claimed to be a brother-in-law of the rabbi in
Greenville, SC. Knowing the rabbi in Greenville personally, I didn’t believe he would send a brother-inlaw of his out of the state to chisel the public, so I phoned long distance to inquire about the man. The
rabbi in Greenville informed me that this transient had worried the community there a couple of days
before, that he was no relation of his, but claimed to be a brother-in-law of the rabbi in Columbia. This
man’s system was to claim relationship to a rabbi in a nearby city, in order to get help. I gave him $.50
and a meal ticket, and told him to get out of town before dark. He didn’t leave, instead he called on other
Jews in the city with the same story, and collected around $5 by noon the next day. I finally contacted
him, and told him again to get out of town, which he refused to do. So, I had the police department pick
him up, and put him in jail. In about an hour, I went over, and talked to him in jail, and he changed his
tune quite a bit. He was ready to leave town, so we let him out and this time I gave him fifteen minutes to
disappear--and he did!
Another rabbi once called on me, and stated that he was a representative of a Jewish institution
somewhere in Europe, and wanted a donation for it. I explained to him that we had a Federated Jewish
charities here to help him, and he would have to make his request through them. He kept insisting that I
give him a donation personally, and I kept refusing him. He finally gave up, proceeded to cut me out in
Yiddish, in a extremely loud voice — and this wasn’t all — he spit on the floor, slammed the door as hard
as he could as he went out. I felt like killing him, and I think it would have been justifiable homicide.
I could tell you many tales of my experiences with these human vultures, but one I remember in
particular, was the time when a local judge phoned me, and told me that he would have to try a young boy
by the name of Goldberg for vagrancy. He asked me to recommend to him what to do with the boy. I
went over to see the defendant, and he happened to be one of the transients I had helped a few days
before. He had ordered a sandwich at a small restaurant on the outskirts of town, refused to pay for it, so
the restaurant man had him arrested. I told the judge of my experiences with the Jewish transients and
asked him to make an example out of this boy, so he gave him thirty days on the road. In sentencing the
boy, the judge told him that from now on every Jewish transient that was brought before him would get a
road sentence. Then I really got criticized by the Jewish community for putting Jewish Boys on the
Chain-gang. I was shown a copy of his criminal record from the FBI a few days later. He had been
convicted of all kinds of offenses from stealing a bicycle to highway robbery. After the boy got out, he
came to see me again, and feeling sorry for him, I bought him a ticket to Charlotte, and informed him that
I would see that every transient from now on coming into Asheville would get a road sentence. Before
that time, we had from ten to thirty transients per month appealing for help. It was interesting to note that
�we didn’t have another transient come into Asheville, for six weeks after the boy left, and for a long time
after that, appeals for help were 50% of what they had been before that.
It is my sincere recommendation that every Jewish transient, coming into Asheville, be put in jail
for a certain length of time. This is the only way to cure this evil. Of course, the Jewish community
wouldn’t stand for anything like that, they would rather give these damned hoodlums a few hundred
dollars every year.
Then, we have the transients coming through in family groups. These groups consist of a mother
and father, with one or more children. They usually arrive in a dilapidated old automobile. Most of the
time, the automobile needs some repairs before they can leave town in it; it never has any gasoline and
usually needs a couple of quarts of oil. These parties are expensive and hard to handle, because you can
hardly send small children on their way without a night’s sleep and proper food.
Of course, I have some deserving cases, but I don’t class these with the transients. For instance, a
man once came in to see me, with the story that he had tuberculosis, and he had come down here from
Detroit as his doctor had recommended this climate to him. He expected to get a job as an elevator boy,
or something of the sort, and he was under the impression that the climate here would cure him while he
worked. Well, the man was broke, and was waiting for some financial help from his brother whom he
had written a few days before. I gave the man $4 and he promised to pay me back as soon as he heard
from his brother. He came back the next day. He had heard from his brother. He showed me the letter
and his brother enclosed $10 which was all that he could send. He told me that he was unable to find
work, and was going to start back for Detroit. He offered me the $4 I had given him. I asked him how he
expected to get back to Detroit on $7, and he told me that he would have to hitch-hike. I told him to keep
the $4, and wish him the best of luck, and while I am not a doctor, I was under the opinion from his looks
that his health would never permit him to hitch-hike back home and get there alive.
So for twenty years, I have dealt with the bunch of beggars, coming from North, South, East, and
West. They have become a part of my life, and if I could get out of this job right now, I am sure I would
miss this horde of gangsters that hop around from place to place like a bunch of grasshoppers in a clover
patch.
VI. War Years4
Pilot on 023
On admission to the Air Force in 1943 I was interviewed as to what activity I had in a
business or profession, also what experience I had in religious, fraternal or civic affairs. I told
them I was just a clerk in a pawnshop.
I didn’t tell them that I once:
was president of a cemetery.
was an owner of a company that built floats and decorated the town for the first
Rhododendron Festival in Asheville.
supplied the Asheville Police Dept. and the Sheriff’s Dept. with guns and ammunition.
4
. A more complete account of Leo Finkelstein’s experiences during World War II is
found in his Letters from Leo: Letters to the Asheville Lion’s Club (Center for Appalachian
Studies: Appalachian State University, Boone, NC, 1996)
�I didn’t tell them anything about my civic, fraternal, religious or social activities.
I was sent to Tishomingo, Oklahoma for training in the Oklahoma State College for
Agriculture to be an air force clerk in engineering. After graduating from the clerk’s school in
Tishomingo, I felt I would have an easy life in the Air Force being an engineering clerk. But my
duties from Tishomingo to the islands in the South Pacific were:
kitchen police
mess hall fireman
mess hall garbage director
cleaning chickens
policing grounds
digging ditches
hauling poles
hauling fire wood
hauling coal
fighting forest fires
assorting merchandise at warehouse
assorting salvage merchandise
smashing tin cans
hauling water
finance clerk
detail clerk
runner for headquarters
stacking lumber
cleaning rifles and machine guns
building roads
repairing bridges
laying concrete
operating gasoline pump
telephone operator
making inventories of supplies
acting C. Q.
pulling weeds and grass
watering trees
loading and unloading trucks
loading and unloading freight cars
loading barracks bags on boats and trucks
cleaning hatches on boats
latrine orderly
painting machinery
communications clerk
and finally engineering clerk for the 394th Squadron, 5th bomb group of the 13th Air
Force.
Getting a good grade on my education at Tishomingo and experience in travel to the
South Pacific I thought I was ready to do my job.
�My first difficulty was when A pilot comes in to see me after a combat mission on a B-24 Bomber number 023 and
said that he failed to put on his reporting form #Y that the tachometer indicator occilates
excessively, would I please write it in the form for him. I told him I would.
You know, I didn’t know what the h--- he was talking about and I couldn’t even spell it.
Tokyo Rose
Tokyo Rose was an American girl broadcasting from a radio station in Japan during
World War II. Her broadcast was received by the 13th Air Force in the Admiralty Islands
located in the South Pacific area.
She played recorded American music in her broadcast. She advised us that our wives and
sweethearts were dating the 4 F’s - the men who stayed out of military service and they would go
to drive inns for hamburgers and coca-colas.
She also said that the Japanese would be waiting for our B-24 bombers scheduled for a
mission in the morning with anti-aircraft guns and fighter planes.
Radios were scarce on the island. I wanted to listen to Tokyo Rose so I wrote home and
requested a small radio to be shipped to me. They advised that the smallest radio weighed too
much to be shipped overseas by parcel post but they would take it apart and ship it in two
packages which was acceptable at the post office.
The radio department of the 5th Bomb Group said they would be glad to put the radio
together for me. When I received the shipment in two packages I gave it to them. They repaired
it the best they could. I found that when I turned it on it would work for about a minute and then
quit receiving. They couldn’t find the trouble.
One day I took a screw driver, tightened all the screws and thought I found the trouble. I
put the radio on the table in the tent, started it receiving and in one minute it stopped. I was
disgusted - I hit the radio, knocked it off the table. It hit the floor, bounced about 2 feet and
started playing. It was okay from then on.
In about a week Captain Gardner in the engineering department sent word that he wanted to see
me as soon as possible. I thought I had fouled up on keeping his engineering records but he had this to
say:
Corporal Finkelstein we are having trouble repairing the radio on airplane No. 022 and we
understand that you are the only one in the 394th Squadron that can solve our problem. Will you help us?
I forgot what I said, but I couldn’t figure out how to knock an airplane off the table.
Topless Women
�Now if you read the morning paper, you noticed headlines on the front page: “Topless
Night Club Opens in Asheville.”
Well, you didn’t need a night club to see topless women on those South Pacific Islands
during WWII. The trouble was they would move all the women to another island close by the
island we occupied. We built a motor boat made of two airplane belly tanks and a small power
unit so that we could go over and see the women at another island.
I didn’t go over to see the women. I wasn’t afraid of them, but I was afraid the boat
might sink.
Sergeant Joe
In 1944, Sergeant Joe, the mess sergeant in my outfit in the 13th Air Force located in the
South Pacific during World War II, received a shipment of canned corn. Instead of using it for
chow, he built a still in a fox hole and made corn whiskey out of it. Joe ran a road house in
Greenville, South Carolina before the war and in a neighborly spirit he invited me to drink what I
wanted of the corn whiskey and he helped me trade watch bands for coca-cola syrup and ice
cream from a Navy C.B. outfit located near by.
After the war, he operated his road house in Greenville again. He came to see me and
advised that they had arrested his partner for hauling whiskey in Buncombe County and wanted
to know if I could help him. I told him that I knew the Chief of Police and Sheriff Brown and I
would be glad to see what the situation was. He told me they couldn’t help as it was the Federal
authorities that arrested his partner. Thinking of how to get him a light sentence I asked Joe if
his partner was in the armed forces and he said that they had turned him down because he has a
heart murmur. I told Joe to send him to Dr. Feldman and I’d get the report from him as to his
heart murmur. Dr. Feldman told me he had a heart murmur and as Federal Physician he would
advise Judge Warlick about in federal court. At the trial Joe’s partner went scott free. Later he
came to see me with a roll of hundred dollar bills and wanted to pay me for getting him off. I
refused the money and told him that Joe had helped me out during the war and what I did was a
favor to Joe. Later he brought me six fifths of Scotch for a present, which I kept.
While overseas, besides having corn whiskey made by Joe and medical alcohol diluted
50% by water and flavored with burnt sugar, we were able to buy bonded whiskey from the
flying personnel who didn’t drink their ration. Price was $60 per fifth. They were looking for
souvenirs so I wrote Lion Nat Friedman to send me a Japanese hare-kari knife from his antique
store. He sent me a similar one. It was a circular shape Turkish knife with Turkish letters on it.
My cost was $4. It looked like a hare-kari knife. I gave it to Sergeant Joe and asked him to see
if he could trade for a Fifth of bonded whiskey. He reported later that he couldn’t get a fifth of
whiskey for it but he did get two fifths for it.
Sgt. Smokey Joe’s home is just a little bit south of Asheville, NC. He was mess sergeant
for the 394th squadron, a good guy, and a GI who could sympathize with all the other GI’s who
had to eat the food he prepared.
�Before the war Smokey Joe owned a road house on the highway going south from
Asheville and after talking to him I found that I had patronized his institution on numerous
occasions during my younger years. Since we were practically neighbors in civilian life, we felt
that we should continue over there as good neighbors and so we were. There is no better friend
in the army than a cook because when you get hungry, he is the only man who can help you out.
In passing I might mention that Smokey Joe, Starvin Marvin and I have on numerous instances
enjoyed eating surplus stocks of food from the Mess Hall.
Smokey Joe told me about Sheriff Brown, in Asheville, taking his automobile away from
him once because the sheriff had found some whiskey in it that he was transporting to his road
house.
Now Smokey is fighting to get his freedom - his freedom to go home and dodge Sheriff
Brown some more, and there is Starvin Marvin who wants to go home and see his wife and two
year old boy, a child that he has never seen, and so it is with me - I want to go home - I just want
to go home.
WWII Diary
I had nothing to do while recovering from a recent surgery so I found my WWII diary
and read the following:
Before the war, I thought being the army would be a thrilling adventure - but now I know
Sherman was right.
Before the war, I thought the Air Force was a mechanized force - but now I wonder what
the Hell I’m marching for.
Before the war, I thought the Asheville Citizen was a volten newspaper - but now I enjoy
reading one four days old.
Before the war, I would drink a cocktail before dinner but now I drink milk with my
dinner.
Before the war, I would sometimes go to be at 4 am but now I get up at 4 am.
Before the war, I was particular about what girl I took out - but now I’m not so
particular.
Before the war I struggled over a golf course - but now I struggle over an obsticle
course.
Before the war, I used to shine at a dance - but now I shine my shoes.
Before the war, I cussed at a golf ball - but now a sergeant cusses at me for not being on
the ball.
�Before the war, I didn’t have much religion - but now I pray for a furlough.
...
Soon after a prayer for a furlough, the Red Cross advised me that a business associate of
mine had committed suicide and I had been granted a two weeks emergency furlough for a trip
home.
VII. After the War
Sgt. Smokey Joe
After the war Smokey Joe opened his road house again near Greenville, SC. He came to
see me and advised that they had arrested his partner for hauling whiskey in Buncombe County
and wanted to know if I could help him out.
I told him I knew the Chief of Police and Sheriff Brown and I would be glad to see what
the situation was. He told me they couldn’t help as it was the Federal Authorities that arrested
his partner. Thinking of how to get him a light sentence, I asked Joe if his partner was in the
armed forces and he said that they had turned him down because he had a heart murmur. I told
Joe to send his partner to Lion Dr. Feldman who was Federal Physician and I would get a report
from him as to his heart murmur.
Lion Dr. Feldman told me he had a heart murmur and as a Federal Physician he would
advise Judge Warlick about it in Federal Court. At the trial, Joe’s partner got a suspended
sentence. Later he came to see me with a roll of hundred dollar bills and wanted to pay me for
getting him off. I refused the money and told him that Joe had helped me out during the war and
what I did was a favor to Joe. Later he brought me six fifths of scotch for a present which I kept.
Corn Whiskey at Road House
Before the war, road houses would hide the corn whiskey they served their guests in a
container under a bed. When the sheriff’s dept. would raid the joint, they usually wouldn’t look
for it there. One night they found it and an article appeared in the Asheville Citizen that the
sheriff’s dept. confiscated a gallon of whiskey hid in a container at a road house.
J im Dwelbiss and Beaver Lake
Returning home from World War II, I was interested in building a house to live in.
Jim Dwelbiss, president of the Asheville Lions Club 1941-1942, said that he had a lot
across the street from his home on Westwood Road in Lakeview Park and if I would build a one
story house so he could see Beaver Lake over the roof of my house, he would give me a good
deal. I acquired the lot and built the house. He told me that as a resident of Lakeview Park I
should take on some activity for the benefit of the park.
He took me to the annual meeting of the property owners and I was elected as one of the
three commissioners - no salary. When I met with the other two commissioners they told me I
�had charge of the lake and fishing and they would back me up in anything I wanted to do. I got
phone calls.
I got a phone call from a resident and he says “Stop the fishing, the fish are diseased.” I
contacted the game warden from the NC Wildlife Resources Commission and we found a service
station by the creek that furnished the lake with water that had put old oil from automobiles in it
and it had killed a few fish.
I get a phone call from a lady that an awful looking man wearing overalls was fishing. I
asked her did she expect him to wear a tuxedo.
I get a call advising that two women indecently dressed were near the dam of the lake. I
found them to be the wives of the two commissioners sun bathing.
I found two men swimming in the lake, which was against the rules. They told me they
would swim and that I couldn’t stop them. I told them to swim if they wanted to and that a
sewer line had broken and was emptying in the lake and would probably get typhoid fever - they
stopped swimming.
I found a group of women in bathing suits at the lake near Glenn Falls Road with a
photographer. I found them to be local beauticians getting their picture with the lake in the
background. They were using the picture on a cover of a program for a State Convention of
Beauticians in Asheville.
Fishing in the lake was allowed for licensed property owners only. I saw a man standing
at the edge of the lake for 30 minutes just looking. On investigation I found he had a line tied to
his belt that ran down the inside of his pants leg over his shoe into the lake. On the line he had a
float and a baited hook. When the fish would bite and pull the float under he would kick his leg,
hang the fish, pull it in and nobody would know he was fishing.
I appreciated what Lion Dwelbiss had done by getting me elected to be fish
commissioner of Beaver Lake.
But I got a call that I was going to be elected president of Congregation Beth-Ha-Tephila
and that construction would be started soon on a temple at Liberty and Broad Streets. I thought
I could use some religion so I didn’t run again for commissioner of Lakeview Park and I took up
my duties as president of Beth-Ha-Tephila. I completed the building of financing of the new
temple in two years.
I was tired out and hoped that maybe I could get some rest by being fish commissioner
again at Beaver Lake.
Sternberg Hunting Rats
�Joe Sternberg was president of the Lion’s Club in 1960-61. His father Seigfred
Sternberg, came over to the U.S. at the turn of the century, procured a horse and wagon, drove
around western North Carolina buying cowhides and junk. He finally opened a junk yard on
Depot Street and became one of the largest cowhide dealers in the United States. Lion Joe was
my classmate in the A.H.S. class of 1922. He would rent a freight car on the local freight train to
Murphy and buy cowhides at the stations where the train stopped.
I was watch inspector for the Southern Railway and would travel on the same train, give
the employees a certificate that in my opinion the watch they had wouldn’t vary over 30 seconds
a week.
Going west you could go as far as Waynesville by auto and then by train to Murphy.
Lion Joe Dave, president of the club in 1932, was construction engineer for the Sternberg Co.
who supplied steel for the construction of buildings. Later he organized the Dave Steel Co.
Old man Sternberg did well financially and became president of the Southern State Bank
on Depot St.
He became active in civic, religious and fraternal affairs in Asheville. He built a big
home on Victoria Drive. He didn’t like the help he was getting in Asheville so he imported a
young beautiful maid from Germany. The maid went down to get an item at the garage and
found Mr. Sternberg there. Mr. Sternberg got fresh with the maid, the maid picked up a 22
caliber rifle that I sold him and shot him. The wound wasn’t serious.
The next morning a news item appeared in the Asheville Citizen with the head line:
“Sternberg Wounded While Hunting Rats in the Garage.”
Irving S. Cobb and Grove Park Inn
About sixty years ago my friend Fred Bradley was night clerk at Grove Park Inn. He
would tell me about the operation of the Inn. A guest would find his home town newspaper at
his breakfast table. If he paid for anything, what change, if needed, would be given to him in
uncirculated money.
The only entrance to the Inn’s grounds was a large gate off of Macon Ave. The gate was
closed at 10 PM as the noise from any automobile going in and out would disturb the guests.
Irving S. Cobb, famous humorist, was spending a couple of days at the Inn. A little after ten
o’clock one night he tried to get his auto into the Inn’s grounds. He found the gate locked. He
had to park his car on Macon Avenue.
He walked to the Inn and complained loudly about it. He was advised that the Inn didn’t
welcome any unusual noises after 10 PM. In a little while he came down to the lobby from his
room carrying his shoes, nothing on his feet but his socks, walked very quietly to Fred Bradley,
the night clerk, and whispered to him “I want to check out.”
�In a couple of days a news item appeared in the Asheville Citizen written by Irving Cobb
with the headline: “The Bunk of Buncombe.”
Read news article from Citizen-Times on suicide
This reminded me of a historical event years ago when I was selling guns. A customer
said he wanted an inexpensive pistol to keep in his home and he just obtained a permit to buy it.
I sold him a 22 cal. Iver Johnson pistol. This type gun was later known as a “Saturday Night
Special.”
When I completed the sale I said “Thank you mister.” He said “Don’t call me mister, I’m
a doctor. You call me doctor.” I said, “Thank you doctor.” He took the gun home and
committed suicide with it.
Now: I got to thinking if he bought the gun today he would have to make application to
get a permit and wait two or three days for the permit to be issued. Maybe if he had to wait that
long for a permit, he might have changed his mind about the suicide.
Then: As a doctor I wondered why he didn’t write a prescription for some high powered
sleeping pills, take several of them and just go to sleep and not wake up.
I think I got an explanation. If any of you had to buy prescription drugs today, you know
now expensive they are. And if they were that expensive back then when this happened, I guess
the doctor felt he could save money by committing suicide with a “Saturday Night Special.”
Problems in Water and Sewer Systems
If you’ve read the newspapers lately, you know that the city of Asheville has problems in
their water and sewer systems.
I had some personal problems, so I phoned doctor #1. The lady answering the phone said
that she would advise his nurse. His nurse was busy with a patient and the nurse would phone
me later. The nurse phones me in about an hour. I asked the nurse if I was supposed to talk to
her in a dignified way or call everything by its right name. She said to do what I think best, so I
tell her what’s troubling me and that it had the color of Coca-Cola or Pepsi-Cola, I don’t know
which.
She said she would talk to the doctor and call me back. She calls back and says I ought
to see doctor #2 who is a specialist with my troubles. He has a Rotto Rutter. I found out a Rotto
Rutter is a gadget used by plumbers on home work.
I see doctor #2 and he advises that he can’t find anything of a serious nature wrong. I go
back to doctor #1. He makes several tests. He tells me to go back to doctor #2, that he is going
to advise him of what he found and would ask him to make a complete examination.
Back in doctor #2's office, an assistant brings in a machine for examination. He tells me
that this machine is a new one, and it don’t hurt like the old one. After the examination, the
�doctor makes an appointment for me to go to the hospital for a I.V.P. examination and bring the
x-rays back to him. I take the x-rays back to doctor #2's office and the doctor says that they look
pretty good, that all I need would be surgery and a 2 to 3 days stay in the hospital or it may be 6
days.
I go back to the hospital for pre-admission tests and they do all the same tests that were
done two or three times before and the nurse asked me a lot of personal questions. She asked if I
had a BM. I knew that AM meant from midnight to noon and PM meant the time from noon to
midnight. So I figured out the BM meant a BAD MORNING, so I told the nurse that I had a BM
for about a week.
I was told to report for surgery the next Wednesday at 6:30 AM, somewhat earlier than I
usually get up. I get a phone call from doctor #2's nurse Tuesday night advising that the doctor
is ill and would be unable to do the surgery and it would be postponed.
Later I get a phone call that the surgery had been rescheduled for March 2nd at 1 PM. I
had 5 days to review the situation and I think I was mentally, physically, and maybe financially
ready for surgery.
End of Report. I now feel good.
SINS OF THE SANCTIMONOUS SUMMIT, OR
Shall I live and laugh or cry and die with a prayer, or
Laugh and live or cry and die
Sylvia dn I decided to go into the Summit, a retirement home, for our golden years of life.
We soon found out that the golden years of life are just gold plated- the gold wears off and you
find yourself in a situation of assorted problems.
I was in the WWII battle in the South Pacific but I found that it was a cinch compared to
the “old age” battle in the Summit.
Some of the residents here are physically disabled and some are mentally disabled. I am
92 years old and I find that all the residents over 90 years of age are both mentally and
physically disabled.
In moving to apartment #108, I asked if I could bring my piano. I was advised that my
apartment had sound proof walls and it would be OK. A femal resident in an apartment near me
said that she enjoyed listening to me practising but please don’t play before eight o’clock in the
morning-- “it’s liable to disturb my sleeping.”
The Summit was described to me as a “country club” retirement home with beautiful
grounds, good entertainment and delicious food. In the so-called “country club retirement
home,” I am still looking for the golf course and a swimming pool.
�The department serving food is the best outfit here. The meals are delicious but I’ve
never been offered a cocktail before dnner. The strongest drink I’ve ever had here has been ice
tea. Some day maybe we will have an entree of a Maine Lobster or a wild duck on toast.
I couldn’t figure out my monthly bill. I was told that the adding machine I had was an
antique and what I needed was a calculator and computer to get the correct amount. I was
advised that the easiest thing for me to do was to write a check for the amount listed as
BALANCE on my statement. That would be satisfactory with the Summit.
I never worry about paying my bills to the Summit-I’ll let them worry. If I go broke, I’ll
just go next door to the Veteran’s Hospital where I can get in any time since I have a disability
discharge from WWII.
The 1997 elections are over and I’m glad I’m a Democrat because I don’t like what the
Republicans will do with my benefits I get form Medicare and other government agencies to help
pay the Summit. The Democrats are not so hot either. They lowered interest rates so much on
my government bonds so now I have to cash them in order to have enough money to buy drugs.
Memory
My memory is getting worse. In leaving, my apartment I find the following has
happened:
#1 I forgot to turn the water off in the kitchen and the floor was flooded with water.
#2 I forgot to turn the stove off and the coffee pot was melted.
#3 I forgot to turn the lights off.
#4 I forgot to take my hearing aid with me.
#5 I forgot to take my walking cane with me.
#6 I forgot to take my reading glasses with me.
#7 I forgot to take my teeth.
#8 I forgot to go to the bathroom--for my pills.
I put a sign by the door where I leave the apartment listing the eight things I am supposed to do
before leaving. Most times, I forget to look at the sign.
Surgery payment
My doctor advised me that I needed major surgery and that he would like to talk to me in
his office. He wanted to know how I was going to pay my bill. I told him that a former doctor in
his establishment would accept Medicare, also other Insurance benefits and send me a bill for
what he didn’t collect. I would then send him a check.
�He advised that there were deductions on my insurance during the first part of the year
and wanted to know if I had considered them. I told him I didn’t know, but I would write him a
check now if he wanted it.
“Oh no,” he said. “I’ll take the check after the surgery.”
I answered, “I think you are making a mistake. If you take my insurance payments you
will get paid in thirty days. If you wait??? take my check and I die, it will take you a year to
collect from my estate.
He said, “You are wrong. I’m not going to let you die.”
So now, I’m looking forward to the future with many years of fears and tears. Suffering
from: Memory loss, over-reacting, trouble with eating, sleeping and weeping, co-ordination,
irritation, and constipation.
Prayer, or Humor, or What?
I wondered what the most beneficial to me - PRAYER, or HUMOR, or WHAT? Is it time
for me to laugh, cry or die?
I sent copies of my WWII Diary [page ???] to two preachers that responded as follows:
From preacher #1:
Dear Leo:
Thanks for the great piece. I enjoyed it! My best to you and Sylvia.
From preacher #2:
Thank you so much for that great “letter home from WWII.” It’s very funny! Actually it
really made my day after shoveling snow. I too could use a furlough. All my best to you and
Sylvia.
Later both preachers asked for permission to use my thoughts in sermons.
Maybe I should have been a preacher instead of a pawnbroker.
Finis
I had the honor of serving as president of Beth-Ha-Temphila in 1948 and 1949 during the
building and financing of the new temple at Liberty and Broad Streets.
I was Master of Ceremonies for the 50th Anniversary Banquet program of Beth-HaTehphila in 1941.
I also presided at the 75th Anniversary Banquet in 1966.
I have put in my application to preside at the 100th in 1991.
Unless we are Indians, our ancestors came from Foreign Lands. I am thankful they did
�what they did so that I could have the privilege of growing up in a city like Asheville, enjoy this
great country of ours---a land of religious freedom and opportunity.
GLOSSARY FOR THE GOYIM
brisgoyim-
�
Dublin Core
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Title
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Leo Finkelstein Papers
Description
An account of the resource
This collection contains materials relating to Leo Finkelstein, resident of Asheville, North Carolina, the Asheville Lions Club, and the Beth Ha-Tephila Cemetery in Asheville. It contains computer discs, notes, scrapbooks, book drafts, correspondence, photographs, programs, fliers, and other materials related Leo Finkelstein, his wife Sylvia, and the Lions Club, Elks Club, and Jewish Community in Asheville, North Carolina.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998
Dublin Core
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Title
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Leo Finkelstein: Personal History
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1998-01-30
Language
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English
Identifier
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107_01_LeoKathy
Subject
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Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998--Family
Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998--Anecdotes
Jews--North Carolina--Asheville--History
Description
An account of the resource
Leo Finkelstein provides an account of his family's past, starting in 1799 in Lithuania and ending with his life in Asheville.
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<a title=" In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable" href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-RUU/1.0//" target="_blank"> In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable </a>
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PDF
Source
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<a title="AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/192" target="_blank"> AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers </a>
Is Part Of
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<a title=" Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/27" target="_blank"> Leo Finkelstein Papers </a>
Type
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Text
Extent
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42 pages
Coverage
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Asheville (N.C.)
Spatial Coverage
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https://www.geonames.org/4453066/asheville.html
America
ancestors
Asheville
autobiography
Depression
Flanders
goyim
Jews
Lithuania
pawn shop
Pisgah
Prohibition
World War II
-
https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/files/original/d7c7ac7c778387364efa612ed109077e.pdf
5461277badfa5745b489f3e66b9782bc
PDF Text
Text
In Nineteen Five
I became alive
and what I found
around this town
Was joy and tears
for 50 years.
I.Origins1
In 1799, my great-great grandfather was a chicken farmer in the town of Pushalot, in the
state of Lithuania, in the Soviet Union.
It was a hard life in the town of Pushalot. The winters were nine months long and
unendurably cold. The summers were hot and rainy. There were occasional pogroms or Russian
Cossaks rampaging through the streets terrorizing the countryside, gypsies stealing everything in
sight, including sometimes even children, and always there was the threat of Siberia.
My ancestors, like most Jews, were very poor, hard working and suffering. My greatgreat grandfather bought eggs from all the chicken farmers, packed them carefully on a wagon,
covered them with straw to keep them cool and fresh and rode many miles to Kovna, Vilna and
Riga to sell the eggs at the big city markets.
In 1825, my great grandfather served as a rabbi in Pushalot.
In 1872, my grandfather opened a kretchma in Pushalot. A kretchma is a Russian inn
somewhat like out modern motels, only they didn’t have swimming pools or air conditioning. It
was a place travelers could stop for food or drink or spend the night.
One day a Bolshevik on horseback stopped at the Inn and drank a lot of vodka. He got
fresh with my grandmother, who I understand was a good looking girl in those days. My father, a
teenage boy, picked up a piece of stove wood, hit him on the head and knocked him out. That
was an awful crime in Russia for a Jewish boy. My grandfather made a temporary settlement
with the Russian and gave him 50 rubles.
My father thought that they may send him to jail or Siberia, so he stole his way across the
border into Germany. He didn’t like Germany, so he left Germany and made his way to South
Africa.
He went to work as a house painter in Johannesburg. He became ill from the lead
poisoning in the paint. There were no United Way or Federate Jewish Charities down there, but
someone took pity on him and nursed him back to health. He sold cigarettes and sandwiches at a
1
Cite reference
�stock exchange and he finally opened a resturant.
In 1898, right before the English-Boer War, my father sold his resturant for gold coins,
got a money belt, and went down to Cape Town. He had a cousin in Australia and a brother in
Jacksonville, Florida. By a flip of a coin he came over to Jacksonville, Florida.
In Jacksonville, Florida, he went to night school to learn to read and write English.
II. The Dawn of the Twnetieth Century in Asheville
In 1900, my father became ill and the doctor in Jacksonville told him the only place to go
to get cured would be the mountains. He came up to Asheville, and Doctor Smith told him he
would die of anything except what they sent him to Asheville for, so that he might as well go
back to Jacksonville. He like Asheville so much he decided to stay here.
In 1903, he opened a pawn shop at 23 South Main Street (now Biltmore Avenue). He
married Fanny Sherman from Newport News, Virginia, and they made their home in an
apartment on Ashland Avenue.
In 1905, my father became a citizen of the United States.
Among the organizations he joined were the Asheville Board of Trade (now The
Asheville Chamber of Commerce), the Fraternal Order of Eagles, Suez Temple of the Oramatic
Order of Khorosson, Lodge #1401 BPO, Elks, Mt. Herman Masonic Lodge, Scottish Rite
Masonic Lodge, Oasis Temple of Shriners, Congregation Bikur Cholim (now Beth Isreal), and
Congregation Betha-Ha-Tephila.
So, in Asheville, North Carolina, the Twentieth Century began with:
-The pawnbroker named Finkelstein.
-S.H. Friedman, who operated a furniture store. He came to Asheville from
Maryland, where he peddled tinware. His son, Nat Friedman, later operated the
Susquehana Antique Co.
-A Jewish lawyer by the name of Goldstein.
-A Jewish plumber by the name of A.J. Huvard. He married E.C. Goldberg’s sister. E.C.
Goldberg ran a news stand next to the Imperial Theater on Patton Avenue for years.
-A Jewish dentist by the name of I. Mitchell Mann.
-Harry Blomberg’s father who came to Asheville in 1887. He operated the Racket Store
on Biltmore Avenue for many years.
-The Palais Royal Department Store operated by Morris Meyers for 40 years. He was a
charter member of Congregation Beth-Ha-Tephila and he came to Asheville in 1887.
-The Bon Marche Department Store operated by Solomon Lipinsky.
-A Jewish postman who delivered mail by the name of Barney Seigle. I was particularly
interested in Barney because he had a sister by the name of Ester, who was in my class in
�high school — a beautiful and affectionate student.
-An industrialist named Seigfred Sternberg.
-Dan Michalove, who worked at the first movie houses in town and finally advanced to
Vice-President of Paramount Pictures and was put in charge of all their theaters in
Australia.
-Lou Pollock, who operated a shoe store at the corner of South Main and Eagle Streets.
He once ran a shoe sale for $.98 a pair.
-Leo Cadison, who came here for his health, operated a ladies clothing store on Pack
Square, finally moved to Washington, D.C., and became an attorney by act of Congress.
He was a speech writer for the Attorrney General of the United States.
-An orthodox Rabbi by the name of Londow.
-Morris Myers served as Exalted Ruler of the Old Elks Lodge #608.
In 1883 Jews were arriving to become pioneers in the Asheville community. Some came
to make a better livelihood and for opportunity. The moderate climate and mountain air attracted
others to Asheville, a growing medical haven for the sufferers of chronic respiratory diseases.
Congregation Beth-Ha-Tephila
August 23, 1891, twenty-seven men met in Lyceum Hall and adopted a constitution for
Congregation Beth-Ha-Tephila. Among the charter members were the Blomberg, Lipinsky, and
Zagier families. It is noted that the dues were $10 a year, payable in advance. Lyceum Hall was
the first home of the Congregation. It was rented from a fraternal order for $75 a year.
Congregation Bikur Cholim
Rabbi Londow became the rabbi for Congregation Bikur Cholim whose articles of
incorporation were filed in the Court Clerk’s office in February 1899. The incorporators were
J.B. Schwartzberg, A. Blomberg, Sam Feinstein, S.H. Michalove, A. Shenbaum, M. Zuglier, and
R.B. Zagier.
Since the community could not pay Rabbi Londow a decent wage, he operated a Jewish
grocery store on the side. He was a kindly old gentleman with a big beard, wore his hat around
the grocery store at all times except when a lady called him on the telephone. He would remove
the hat during the conversation and put it back on his head after the phone call.
I remember a big barrel of herring in the center of the store. Plain herring were 5 cents
each and milk herring ten cents.
A newly married lady in the Congregation once called Rabbi Londow and complained
that a duck she bought from him was old and too tough to eat. Rabbi Londow asked what she
expected him to do --- look down the duck’s mouth and count its teeth!
The first religious services of Bikur Cholim I remember attending were on the second
floor of a building at the corner of Patton Avenue and Church Street. It was early in the life of
Bikur Cholim that the congregation split up due to a big argument. Half of the members formed
another congregation and called it Anshei Hashuron. They rented a second floor of an apartment
�house at the corner of Central Avenue and Woodfin Street. However, through the efforts of the
impartial moderates, a compromise was reached and a permanent division averted.
Nevertheless, the apartment was kept for a religious school. It was here I received my
first Hebrew lesson. Rabbi Fox was teaching us the four questions to ask at our Passover meal.
At this time my father would attend all the board meetings of Bikur Cholim. He would
come home upset and nervous. Dr. Smith suggested he not attend any more Synagogue meetings
due to his high blood pressure.
Rabbi Fox was active on the 9th and 10th degrees of Scottish Rite Masonry. After his
death I assumed his parts in these degrees and I am still on the degree teams.
Orthodox rules and Hebrew School
75 to 100 years ago there were two synagogues in Asheville. My family belonged to the
orthodox.
The orthodox had strict rules for obeying the Sabbath which began Friday at sundown and
ended Saturday night. The members of Bikur Cholim who owned an automobile would put them
in the garage on Friday evening to observe the Sabbath and wouldn’t take them out until
Saturday after sun down. Most of the members lived within walking distance of the Synagogue.
To obey the Sabbath correctly you were not allowed to operate a business, spend money, smoke,
strike a match, work, cook and many other activities were forbidden. Remember this was about
100 years ago.
You weren’t supposed to tear paper. Now if you had a bathroom with paper on a roll, you
tore the paper off for Friday in case it may be needed for the Sabbath.
The same rule applies to outhouses with old Sears Roebuck catalogues.
As far as I know none of these rules are observed today.
In 1911, erection of a house of worship was started on South Liberty Street for
Congregation Bikur Cholin. Although it wasn’t completed until 1916, the Hebrew School
moved there in 1912. When I was 11 years old I attended Hebrew school conducted by the rabbi
on Saturday morning in the edifice of the synagogue. The sanctuary contained nothing but pews
and a coal stove for heat. The basement was used for storage and rest rooms. In the winter time
the rabbi fixed the stove for a fire Friday so that it could be lit Saturday morning to produce heat
for the Hebrew class.
Since the rabbi shouldn’t light a fire or spend money on the Sabbath, he arranged for a
boy in the neighborhood to light the fire Saturday morning. He placed a dime under a prayer
book Friday and told the boy where to get a dime after lighting the fire on Saturday.
Even in those days educational institutions had trouble with rebelling students. One real
�cold morning the boy didn’t show up to light the fire. We were attending Hebrew class in
sweaters, coats and overcoats and it was awful cold. I asked to be excused and coming up from
the basement I reported to Rabbi Redunsky that the plumbing must have frozen as there was
water leaking in several places. The Rabbi went to see about it. I advised the class that there
were no broken pipes and suggested that we leave the building --- which we did --- not to return
until warm weather.
For your information, there was no water leaking.
While my sisters Rosa and Hilda and I were still children and our parents were out of
town for health reasons, Doctor Schandler’s father Dave Schandler, would invite us over to his
house for meals, especially on Passover and other religious holy days.
About this time when our house at 213 Broadway was being built, I was sliding down a
sloping board and got a big splinter in my rear end. My father couldn’t get it out so he took me
to Dr. Mann, the dentist, and he got it out --- no charge.
The building of the Synagogue was completed in 1916 and the day before the eve of
Rosh-Hashonah a fire completely destroyed the building. Mrs. Rosenfeld had a Jewish Boarding
House next door and she cried and complained that she had just cleaned her house for Yontiff
and smoke had dirtied the place up. The Masonic Temple was offered to us to use for the High
Holy Day Services and we accepted.
After the fire that destroyed Bikur Cholim Synagogue on South Liberty Street the second
floor of the Sondley Building on Broadway was rented for the use of the congregation. A
member of the congregation, a young man, forgot he had made a date with a waitress in the
Langren Hotel and attended the meeting of the congregation. The lady waited in front of the
Masonic Temple with a gun and took a shot at him after the meeting when he was leaving the
building. She missed. After going to Hebrew School in the building we would stop and examine
the hole the bullet made in the front wall of the building.
The Cemetery
In those days Asheville was a place that offered a cure for tuberculosis. Many
sanatoriums were located in the hills around town. A Jewish man died in one of the sanatoriums
and had no money or family. No cemetery in town would bury him unless someone paid $100
for the grave. It was then that nine Jewish men formed the “West Asheville Hebrew Cemetery
Association Inc.” My father was the first president. In their bylaws it was stated that anyone of
Jewish faith could be buried there. The price of a grave was $100 and if there was no one to pay
it there would be no charge. The cemetery changed it’s name some years later to “Mt. Sinai
Cemetery” and sometime after to “The Lou Pollock Memorial Park.” After father died, Lou
Pollock became president. After his death, I was the vice-president and assumed the duties of the
president. I conferred with David Adler and set up a meeting between the directors of the
cemetery and members of Beth Israel. The ownership of the cemetery was transferred to Beth
Israel.
�The following names of the nine founders can be seen on a plaque at the entrance to the
cemetery bearing the date 1916: Sam Feinstein, Isaac Michalove, Lou Pollock, S.W. Silverman,
Sender Argentar, Rabbi Elias Fox, Dave Schundler, Barney Pearlman, Harry Finkelstein.
Benevolent Societies
Around this time my father felt that some homemade chicken soup would help the Jewish
patients in the sanatoriums. A number of Jewish women set up a kitchen and once a week hot
chicken soup was made available to the Jewish patients and to others who requested it.
Rabbi Fox acquired business interests in Asheville and served as part-time Rabbi. He
was associated with a local butcher who made kosher meat available. He would go by the homes
of members and kill the chickens.
In 1917, some of us young Jewish boys decided that we ought to have a YMHA or a
Community Center in Asheville. Rabbi Fox met with us and suggested that we form a YMHA.
He said a community center was for the community only, but a bigger and better organization
would be a YMHA because it extended from coast to coast. He told us a story about when he
first came to this country and wanted to see the Brooklyn Bridge. He found a man who could
talk Yiddish and after looking at the bridge he asked why they built the bridge with a lot of little
cables instead of one big cable. The man explained to him that if one or two cables broke it
would not harm the bridge, but if there was one big cable and it broke the bridge would fall in.
Rabbi Fox said that therefore us boys should be little cables and hold up the YMHA we were
going to form.
Mr. Sternberg and Mr. Leavitt
Seventy-five years ago there was no United Way in Asheville. There were many local
charitable organizations sponsored by churches, synagogues, houses of worship, also the YMCA,
the Salvation Army, the Elks Lodge and the Jewish Ladies Aid Society. Lion Joe Sternberg’s
father was active in civic, religious, fraternal organizations in Asheville. At that time he was
collecting donations for the “Ladies Aid Society” of Asheville. He went to see Mr. Leavitt who
operated a ladies ready to wear store on South Main St. near Pack Square. He wouldn’t donate
more than $5 and this didn’t please Mr. Sternberg.
Mr. Sternberg was the owner of the building in which Mr. Leavitt operated his store. He
found Mr. Leavitt violated the terms of his lease because he sublet a portion of the store for a
shoe department. Mr. Sternberg told Mr. Leavitt that he would have to give the Ladies Aid
Society a suitable donation or vacate the building because he had violated the terms of the lease.
They selected three men to determine what amount Mr. Leavitt should give the Ladies Aid
Society. It was agreed that the amount they decided would be satisfactory to Mr. Sternberg and
Mr. Leavitt.
Mr. Sternberg selected a man to represent himself. Also Mr. Leavitt picked out the
second man. They needed a man to represent both of them and finally selected my father. The
committee decided that Mr. Leavitt should donate $500 to the Ladies Aid Society.
�------ In 1936, the movements in founding a Jewish Community Center and to organize
Federated Jewish Charities in Asheville was started by Julius Levitch through B’nai B’rith. In
1947 a testimonial dinner was held for his outstanding service to the Jewish Community.
----- On July 25, 1923, the Emporium Department Store owned by Jack Blomberg at the
corner of Pack Square and South Main Street was destroyed by a major fire. It was feared that
the entire block of Eagle Street would be destroyed. Many of the Jewish merchants who operated
clothing stores in the block brought their insurance polices and books to the pawnshop across the
street and requested that we put them in our safes which were two of the largest moveable safes
in town. These two safes are now located at 21 Broadway.
Flanders 20
About 75 years ago the Studebaker Corporation made two automobiles - the Flanders 20,
20 horsepower and the Emf. 30, 30 horsepower. My family owned a Flanders 20.
To start the engine you used a hand crank in front of the auto. You lowered the spark
control lever because if you didn’t, you might get a kickback on the crank and get your arm
broken.
If you had a flat tire, you had to raise the wheel with a hand jack, take the tire off and fix
the inner tube with patches that you always carried with you. You had a hand pump to inflate the
tire again.
Some owners of the Flanders 20 bragged that sometimes they could drive up the hill on
South Main Street (now Biltmore Ave.) from Depot St. to Pack Square in high gear and they
didn’t have to shift to a second gear.
There was a dirt road to Hendersonville. Some of it was red clay that would become slick
when it rained. One small section of the road became very slick due to its location. There was a
man there with a mule. For a small fee he would hitch the mule to the front of the auto and pull
you out of the bad place with the help of the engine of the car.
We were invited to a wedding in Hendersonville by Mr. Lewis whose sister, Rose, was
getting married to a young attorney named Joe Patece. He practiced law in Asheville for many
years. We took our Flanders 20 to the wedding with a couple of our friends. We had no trouble
as it didn’t rain. Coming back to Asheville we got a flat tire near Skyland and stopped to fix it.
We noticed a lot of berries growing near the road and we all began to eat them. A farmer
saw us and accused us of stealing his berries. He took out a warrant for my father. The trial was
to be heard by a Justice of Peace in Skyland. My father employed a young lawyer by the name of
Bob Reynolds. Bob Reynolds in later years became a U.S. Senator.
The Justice of Peace office was too small to hold the crowd that came to the trial so it was
held under a large oak tree outdoors. I heard that Bob gave a great speech to the crowd and the
Justice of the Peace ordered my father just to pay the farmer a small amount for the berries.
�The moral of this event is: Don’t eat wild berries beside an old road. You are liable to
have more troubles than a stomach ache.
School
In 1911, I started school at Montford Avenue Grammar School.
In 1922, I went to UNC-Chapel Hill for 2 days, and had to come home to run the
pawnshop.
In the February 1922 graduating class in Asheville High School, there were 5 boys and 14
girls. Therefore, each boy was expected to take 3 girls to the Senior Class Dance of February
1922. Things were better when we had a dance for the entire school. There were three Jewish
girls in the total 1922 class — Madeline Blomberg, Eva Sternberg, and Ester Seigle.
I was the only student to take an automobile to school in 1922. It was a Paige make with
a “bathtub back” model. I was the business manager of the “Hillbilly,” the school monthly
magazine. I was given any study hall period off that I wanted to collect for ads that appeared in
the magazine, so I would take my auto and a girl to help me from the study hall. After collecting
for one ad we would ride over to the Charlotte Street Drug Store and participate in ice cream
sodas for the balance of the study hall period.
Pisgah 1922
In reporting from my historical records on Lion Joe Sternberg, president of our club in
1960-61, I’ve talked about his father, old man Sternberg and Joe’s sister, Eva.
I reported that Lion Joe and I were seniors in the 1922 class of Asheville High School.
Now, Lion Joe’s mother, Mrs. Sternberg, phoned me and advised me that she was entertaining
Joe and three other members of the 1922 class with a trip to the top of Mt. Pisgah. Eva graduated
in 1921 but wanted to go with them. Her mother asked if I would like to go and look after Eva if
she went, and I told her that I would be delighted.
They all picked me up the next morning and Mrs. Sternberg drove us to the home of Mr.
& Mrs. Rufus O’Kelly who lived at the base of Mt. Pisgah in her 7 passenger Mormon
automobile. We had lunch of possum and sweet potatoes.
There was one dirt road (one way) to the top of Mt. Pisgah, 5 miles long. An auto had to
go up in the morning at daylight and was allowed to come down after 1 PM until dark. We hiked
to a cleared section. Mr. O’Kelly chaperoned the trip and built us a large bonfire and was fixing
something to eat.
Eva was unpacking some things and I noticed a large bottle of Bromo-Seltzer. I asked if
she expected someone to have a headache. She said, “No, I opened a pint bottle of father’s
bottled whiskey, took half of it and filled the Bromo-Seltzer bottle. Now you and I can have a
drink before we eat.”
�“That’s a good idea,” I said, “but what is your father going to say when he finds out?”
She said, “no problem. I filled the empty half of the whiskey bottle with water.” At nighttime
she and I sat around the fire drinking a few drinks of Bromo-Seltzer.
----- On Sundays in 1925, the Jewish crowd of teenagers and somewhat older boys and girls
would gather at the home of the Sternbergs on Victoria Road. The Sternbergs had four children:
Eva, Joe, Johanna, and Rose. One of the older girls in the crowd was named Jennie. One day I
asked her how she managed to be so popular among the boys, and her answer was, “Well, I’m
not so pretty, but I’m catchie”.
----- I dated Eva and one night I called at the house to take her out and her father yelled to us
from the second floor of the house “Don’t you go to no road houses,” and Eva replied “What’s
the matter papa --- you afraid we are going to find you there!”
William Jennings Bryan
On July 7, 1896, William Jennings Bryan delivered the “Cross of Gold” speech and won
the Democratic party nomination for Vice President of the United States.
In 1900 he was nominated again for Vice President.
In 1908 he was nominated for President of the United States.
Later in life he moved to Asheville and his home was at the corner of Evelyn place and
Kimberly Avenue--just a few houses away from where Lion Jack Cole now lives.
Mr. Bryan asked by father to order him a special made double barrel Parker shot gun with
28" barrels modified and choke bores, and a 23/4 inch drop.
After receiving the gun he wrote my father a letter of thanks. I had this letter in my
historical files and it disappeared. Now I don’t know whether to blame it on the Democrats or
Republicans.
III. Asheville in the 1930's
Prohibition’s Waning Days
It was in 1933, after Franklin Roosevelt was elected president of the United States, that
the Volstead Act was repealed and it became legal to sell beer with an alcoholic content on
October 1st. I was president of a mens social club, and it became my duty to get beer to serve to
the members. This was a difficult job as none was available from distributors around Asheville.
1933 was the year of the Great Depression and Rabbi Goodkowitz bought a second hand truck
from Harry Blomberg and was doing some hauling on the side to supplement his income from
Bikur - Cholim. Rabbi Goodkowitz said he would go to Baltimore and get us a load of beer as
he personally knew the owner of the Valley Forge Beer Company there. I gave him six hundred
dollars of the club’s money and he left on a Monday to be back on Thursday. He didn’t show up,
but came in the following Monday. The delay was due to the truck breaking down on the trip.
Of course I was somewhat concerned but the club had a truck load of Valley Forge Beer
�available.
Leo Cadison saw me and advised that he had talked to the United States Senator Robert
R. Reynolds, and the members were starting a campaign to sell the beer before October lst.
Captain Fred Jones of the Asheville Police Department and a member of the house
committee said he would not recommend selling it before the legal date.
At the club that week, I noted about 150 members were present instead of the usual 40.
Under “good and welfare” Senator Reynolds, a great orator, spoke in favor of selling the beer and
said that we were all brothers in a non-profit and charitable organization, and it would be legal to
sell it. Others who spoke in favor of selling the beer were Judge Philip Cocke, State Senator; A.
Hall Johnson, Superior Court Judge; Dan Hill, Postmaster; Marcus Erwin, U.S.Attorney; Zeb
Mettles, Superior Court Judge; Charles McRae, local attorney; and Leo Cadison. Leo Cadison
made a motion that we advise the House Manager to put the beer on ice so that we could drink it
after the meting. I advised Mr. Cadison that I could not accept a motion of an illegal nature but
under Robert’s Rules of Parliamentary procedure he could appeal my decision. He appealed and
I advised that the question to be voted on would be “Shall the decision of the chair stand” and
there would be no discussion. The vote was unanimous against my decision (which suited me)
and I instructed the secretary to take everything out of the minutes pertaining to beer, also to
advise the house manager to put the beer on ice so we could have it after the meeting. He said
that it was too late to advise him because the beer had been on ice for the past two hours.
How to Finance a Pawnshop in a Depression
It was the Depression of the 1930's. Our loans averaged $10 and we made them as low as
50 cents. The demand was great on loans on diamonds and jewelry. The top loan on a ½ carat
diamond was $50 and $200 on a good grade carat.
I was running out of money. I saw Perry at the Morris Plan Bank and we agreed to rent a
lock box at the Wachovia Bank. Both of us would have a key to it. I would hypothecate the
large size diamond and jewelry loans. The ways that worked is I would make the loan, get the
cash from Perry on a 90 day note, and put the jewelry in the lock box as security. If the customer
came to redeem his jewelry I advised him that jewelry was at the vault at the Wachovia for
safekeeping and I would get it for him.
This was working very well as the bank was making the legal rate of 6% on 90 day notes
which were paid in 30 to 40 days with no refund for unearned interest. I was doing OK also. I
charged interest at legal rates plus other expenses incident to the negotiations of the transactions.
Then Mr. Wolcott comes to town. He took over the Morris Plan Bank and organized the
Bank of Asheville. Perry, the new cashier at the Bank of Asheville, came to see me and said,
“Mr. Wolcott advised that the bank wasn’t a pawnshop and to tell Finkelstein to pay off those 90
day notes.” It ooked like I was going to have to stop making large jewelry loans and try to meet
the 90 day note.
�But a miracle happened. A girlfriend of mine in the 1922 class of Asheville High School
married a man from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, who later committed suicide. She came back to
Asheville to live. She saw me and wanted to know if I could help her out. She said she was left
a sizeable amount of life insurance and did I know of a safe place where she could invest some of
it and get a decent return.
I helped her out.
Police Chief Beavers
On the program of the Asheville Lions Club on July 8, 1992, Chief of Police Beavers
talked about prostitution in Asheville and how the APD was trying to cut the activity down.
I believe there may be a better way to cut the activity down.
In the year 1900 Asheville had a population of 14,694. My historical records indicate at
that time the red light district was known as the Eagle Terrace and was operated by a lady known
as “Queen Elizabeth.” There were no problems.
The Banov family in Charleston, SC, are part of my kin folks. Doctor Banov was a health
physician for Charleston County, SC for 35 years. That was the longest any county health
physician stayed in office. In talking to him I found out that the red light district in Charleston,
SC, was a large house known as the “Red Brick” on Bensford St. The prostitutes had to have a
health certificate from a local doctor renewed every 90 days, frame it, and hang it on the wall by
her bed.
They had Police Protection.
In 1933 I was president of a fraternal order in Asheville. I had a good friend, Lt. Frank
Hagan of the local police dept. who was also a member. We decided to drive down to
Charleston, SC, for a convention. While in Charleston he said that he would like to go to the
“Red Brick” on Bensford Street and get information for the Asheville Police Dept. on how they
operated. I asked him how he expected to get in the place. He said “Don’t worry, I’ll get us
admitted.”
We went down to the “Red Brick” and Frank knocked on the front door. A lady opened a
peephole in the door to look at us and Frank said “Back again.” We were then admitted to a
large living room with red curtains. We picked out two of the girls in the living room and invited
them to have a seat with us and have a drink. The only drink available was a coca-cola and the
cost was 25 cents per drink. We asked them if their services would be available to members of a
convention and they said that they were. The cost of a short stay would be $3 and for $5 a client
could spend the night.
I gave the girls $3 each and advised them that all we wanted to do was talk and get
information for the convention - they were completely satisfied.
�Now why don’t we get Chief Beavers to get someone like “Queen Elizabeth” to rent a
place like a small hotel, or a large home with red curtains, or a place suitable for a whorehouse
like the “Red Brick” in Charleston, SC. Serve soft drinks and ice cream at reasonable prices and
furnish police protection.
He might even get Lion Penland and me to open a pawnshop next door so that if a man
didn’t have enough money to finance his trip to the place, he could pawn his watch or his gun.
Don’t think all this would be legal, but its a thought anyway.
The Preacher and the Bible
Back in the depression days of the 1930s there was a preacher who pawned his Bible
every Monday morning after Sunday’s services and redeemed it on the following Friday or
Saturday for the next service on Sunday. I made the original loan of $10 and advised the
preacher that he could get it out at a charge of $1 anytime in 30 days or if needed he could wait
three months at no additional charge.
In checking the records I found that he had pawned the Bible weekly on many occasions.
On the next Friday morning when he came after his Bible I told him he didn’t owe anything on it
that he had paid more carrying charges that the original loan. I told him to put that $10 bill he
had next to the Ten Commandments in the Bible and the next time he needed $10 to take it out
and put it back in the Bible after Sunday’s service. Just don’t bring the Bible back here for a
loan. He didn’t.
Overcoats
During the depression of 1933 the pawnshop had 800 overcoats left at the beginning of
the summer. The loans were from $3 to $7 each, and 80% of the loans were past due. There was
a problem of moths. We put mothballs in the pockets of all overcoats and sprayed them with
DDT.
After the overcoats became more than 3 months past due we had them dry cleaned. We
made a contract with the cleaners to pick up and return lots of twenty at 50 cents each. The
owner of the cleaning company came in the shop and said that he wanted to buy an overcoat for
his chauffeur. He tried on one and liked it so much that he said he would keep it for himself and
give his to his chauffeur.
Murders in Pawnshops and Helping Sheriff L. Brown
You have probably read in the Citizen-Times about Mark Lane who was killed in a
shooting during an armed robbery. His father, Ronald Lane, and he were co-owners of the
Leicester Pawn Shop.
In a former historical report I talked about Reggie, secretary to the Mayor of Miami
Beach, who helped our delegation get faster transportation back to Florida from the International
Lions Convention in Havana, Cuba. Lion C.A. Miller was on that trip. Later Reggie’s brother
was killed in a holdup in his pawnshop on Flager Street in Miami. A lot of people classify a
pawnbroker as a shylock. Those pawnbrokers I have known are kind people and are a asset to
�any community they operate in.
Of course you can exclude me.
In November 1934 Sheriff Lawrence Brown of Buncombe County came to see me and
said that he needed help. Beacon Manufacturing Company at Swannanoa was having labor
trouble and a group from South Carolina was coming up to prevent the employees from going to
work. He wanted to rent twenty 12 gauge shotguns to be used by special deputies to guard the
entrance to the plant.
I rented him twenty 12 gauge Harrington, Richardson shotguns for $1 each. He was
successful in guarding the plant and they never fired a shot. The sheriff phoned me and said that
he wanted to bestow upon me the honor of being a deputy sheriff and to come over and bring a
photo for an identification card. I told him I didn’t know anything about enforcing the law. He
said that was okay, to come over and he would swear me in and take out insurance on me.
I asked him if it was life insurance. He said, “No, it was liability insurance and if I did
anything wrong as a deputy sheriff that they would furnish me legal assistance in court.” I was
sworn in November 15, 1934.
I got a phone call the next morning from Mr. Seely, Manager of the Grove Park Inn. He
said that he needed a gun for his watchman, a 38 Saturday Night Special with a 4" barrel. Sheriff
Brown told him I could supply what he wanted. I told him I had it in stock and he asked me to
bring it out to the Inn. I got in my dilapidated Ford touring car, drove to the front entrance of the
Inn and started to go in, when the Bell Captain stopped me.
He asked “What are you doing here?”
I replied “I have a gun for your watchman and Mr. Seely asked me to bring it out to him.”
“Well,” he said, “you take that gun to the back door. They have a barrel of money back
there and they will pay you for it.”
This was during the depression of the 30's and I had quoted Mr. Seely top price, and I was
going to do anything legal to complete the sale so I went to the back door.
Now I am happy to announce that at the present time I am allowed to go in the front
entrance to the Inn.
Guns and a Grandfather Clock
A friend of mine had a valuable antique clock about 6 feet tall. He said that he was
leaving home for a month and there was a lot of larceny going on. He would like to leave it with
me for safekeeping. I told him to put it in the storage area on the second floor of the shop.
A couple of days later a customer comes in and wants to buy a shotgun. It was summer
�time and since hunting season didn’t open until fall I wondered why he wanted a shotgun. My
salesman said all the shotguns and shells were stored on the second floor and he would take the
customer up there. A little later I heard a big loud bang from the second floor. The salesman
came running down and said that the customer had committed suicide with a shotgun.
I called the Police Department and Dr. Baer, the coroner. Will Hampton, solicitor of
police court and the chief came over. I went to the second floor with them and we found the
customer passed out on the floor. I didn’t see any blood and upon examination we found part of
his clothing blown away under one arm and he wasn’t injured. It’s almost impossible to reach
the trigger of a 31" barrel shotgun when you have the muzzle at your chest. Evidently the
customer must have tried to reach the trigger and the muzzle slipped under his arm when the gun
fired.
I remembered the grandfather clock and found that the discharge from the gun blew some
of the plaster out of the wall about a foot from the clock. The clock was okay.
Dr. Baer asked for a pen. He said that he wanted to find out if the man really passed out.
He jabbed him several times with a pen and the man didn’t move. He really passed out. The
chief said that the man had violated a law and he would take charge of him.
The lesson from this event is: Don’t try to commit suicide - if you do you are liable to get
arrested.
The Silver Shirts
In the 1930's William Dudley Pelly operated the “Silver Shirts,” a Nazi like organization
in a building across the street from the Jewish Community Center on Charlotte Street. He
published the “Liberation Weekly,” anti-Semitic literature with a circulation of eight thousand.
In a parade, I was playing the saxaphone with the Asheville Shrine Club Marching Band,
and William Rosenfelt was carrying the American Flag. Pelly in his “Liberation Weekly”
published a story that we were disgraced by a Jew with a big nose carrying the American Flag.
Pelly was arrested by the Buncombe County Sheriff’s Department in 1941 for selling
unregistered stock. He was found guilty through the efforts of Julius Levitch, a young Jewish
lawyer by the name of Alvin Kurtus, and a local attorney named R.R. Williams.
IV. I Am A Dime
I was born in the early part of the twentieth century at the United States Mint in
Philadelphia, put in a roll with forty-nine other dimes and shipped to the Southern State Bank on
Depot Street in Asheville, North Carolina, of which Mr. S. Sternberg was president. Mr.
Sternberg had a son, Joseph, who later became president of the Asheville Lions Club.
Mr. Sternberg took me and the forty-nine other dimes to his beautiful estate on Victoria
Road in order to participate in a ten cent limit poker game with some of his friends. Someone
�tipped off the police that a game was going on. The home was raided and Mr. Sternberg gave
the names of the players as Mr. Aleph, Mr. Baze, Mr. Gimmel, Mr. Dolad, Mr. Hay, Mr. Vove,
Mr. Zion and Mr. Hess. The “Asheville Citizen” carried a story after the trial that an attorney
appeared in Police Court for Mr. Aleph, Mr. Baze, Mr. Gimmel, Mr. Dolad, Mr. Hay, Mr. Vove,
Mr. Zion and Mr. Hess and paid their fines. Very few people knew that Aleph, Baze, Gimmel,
Dolad, Hay, Vove, Zion, and Hess are the first eight letters of the Hebrew Alphabet.
I got separated from the other dimes that came to Asheville with me. I found myself in
the pocket of Chief Bernard of the Asheville Police Department. It was in November, 1906, that
the Chief phoned Uncle Harry, the pawnbroker, and said that ne needed firearms and
ammunition to equip a posse of fifty men in order to hunt Will Harris, a desperado. Will Harris
had shot and killed five men, of whom two were city policemen. Uncle Harry furnished the
posse with guns and ammunition, taking only the names of those receiving firearms. It was
reported that Will Harris spent the night in a barn in Buena Vista. The posse surrounded him in
a field near Fletcher and killed him. His body was brought to an undertaking establishment at
21 South Main Street, and hung out of the second story window in the building in order to show
the people that he had been killed and quieten them down. The next day, the Chief called
Uncle Harry and asked if all the firearms had been returned. Uncle Harry said they had and
commented that the people of Asheville were honest and good citizens. (Now, Thomas Wolfe,
famous author and native of Asheville used this event for a story published in the Saturday Evening Post
September 7, 1937. He also used it in a chapter in his book “The Child by Tiger.”
2
Bob Terrell, writer for the Citizen-Times talked about this event at one of our meetings.
In 1968 the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms in Washington required a record of every
pistol, rifle, revolver that we received and disposed of, as well as the model, caliber, serial number and
manufacturer. I recently checked the shop that I retired from 25 years ago and they have records of
33,000 transactions since 1968 on hand.)
The Chief took me to Mr. Pappa’s Cafe on South Main Street, bought his lunch which
consisted of a ten cent bowl of soup, a good supply of free crackers and catsup.
Mr. Pappa’s brother operated the “Candy Kitchen” on Haywood Street. They were
making a lot of stick candy in the shape of walking sticks, colored red and white. The cafe
owner bought a half dozen walking sticks from his brother, using me as part payment. He said
that he was going to put the candy on his Christmas tree.
The next day Mr. Pappas, who lived on North Main Street, was coming to town in a rain
storm. North Main Street was paved but all side streets were not. They had stepping stones in
order to get across. Mr. Pappas slipped on a stepping stone, getting his shoes all muddy. He
stopped at the Pack Square Shoe Shine Parlor, got a shoe shine for five cents and gave the
shine boy a five cent tip.
The next thing I knew I was placed in a deposit for the Wachovia Bank and I stayed in
their vault until the year 1913. Uncle Harry picked me up to use in his petty cash. His son
asked for his weekly allowance and I was given to him with four other dimes. The son boarded
a South Main Street streetcar on Pack Square with a fishing pole and a can of worms. He got
off
2
Move note here on Thomas Wolfe etc.
�at the Swannanoa River and walked a hundred yards toward the French Broad. In a couple of
house, he caught a nice string of hog suckers, horney heads and perch out of the beautiful
clear waters of the Swannanoa River. On his way home, he gave me to the conductor,
received five cents change and a transfer to the North Main streetcar in order to go home.
The Conductor carried me around a few days and then gave me to a lady on the
Riverside “open air” streetcar that ran to Riverside Park. Riverside Park was owned an
operated by the Asheville Power and Light Co., the same people who owned the street car
company that was finally gobbled up by Lion Smith’s Carolina Power and Light Co. This lady
gave me to her husband who went down to the Elk’s Club and lost me in a rummy game to a
distinguished looking attorney they called “Judge Cocke.” After the card game the “judge” sat
around talking to brother Elks and drinking beer. He was famous for his knowledge of North
Carolina, its people and places. He even talked about the house of ill repute in Asheville at the
turn of the century known as the “Eagle Terrace” run by a lady called “Queen Elizabeth.”
The next morning, Attorney Cocke defended a man in Police Court who was charged
with stealing a pair of shoes and pawning them because he couldn’t wear them on account of
being too small. The court ordered the man to leave town that day. The man said he was
hungry and didn’t have any money. So Attorney Cocke gave me with other change to him. The
man went down to the Asheville and East Tennessee Railway Company station at the corner of
North Main and College Streets. They operated an electric vehicle between Asheville and
Weaverville. The man smelled hot dogs cooking at D. Gross’s Hot Dog Stand next door, so he
spent me for a hot dog and a coca-cola. Mr. Gross raised and educated a family of thirteen
children from the money he earned at his hot dog stand.
Mr. Gross carried me around until Saturday night when he went to Liggett’s Drug Store
for some headache powders. He stopped in front of the drug store to listen to the Salvation
Army band while they were having a preaching and musical session.
He put me in a pot they were using to get donations for their annual Christmas party.
The Salvation Army bought a second-hand truck from Lion Fred Brown to be used in delivering
food and clothing to the poor people in town. I was used in this transaction. Lion Brown took
me to a Lions Club meeting, where he used me to pay the dime he was fined by the “Tail
Twister” for falling asleep during the program.
The Tail Twister’s wife took possession of me and bought some ribbon at the Palais
Royal, a large department store on South Main Street, operated by Mr. Morris Myers.
I circulated around Asheville until 1918, and again, found myself in possession of Mr.
Sternberg. He had a large junk yard and warehouse on Depot Street that bought and sold
hundreds of cowhides. On all of his advertisements he carried the slogan “We buy anything
and sell everything.” A circus came to town and didn’t have enough money to leave. They
applied to Mr. Sternberg who was president of the Southern States Bank on Depot Street for a
loan of $200. Mr. Sternberg made the loan and took the elephant as collateral. He complained
he was losing money on account of the elephant eating so much. Otto Buseck who owned
Middlemont Gardens at that time raised his own flowers at a hot house in Candler. He helped
Mr. Sternberg out with the elephant - he bought the manure from him.
The next thing I recall was four o’clock on the morning of November 11, 1918. The fire
bell started to ring at the firehouse. The Armistice of World War I had been signed. People
�gathered on Pack Square and built a huge bonfire. A fire truck came out of the firehouse to
shine its spot light on the American flag flying at the top of the Pack Square flag pole. People
were bringing their guns from home to the Square and shooting live ammunition into the air in
celebration.
The fellow who owned me brought a double-barrel shotgun to town and bought some
black powder shells from Otis Green Hardware Store. (Mr. Green years later became Mayor of
Asheville). The Chief of Police soon asked all stores selling ammunition to quit selling it as he
was afraid someone would accidentally get shot.
Mr. Green took me to the Southern Railway passenger station and bought a ticket to
New York from Pat Mulvaney, ticket agent. Frank Mulvaney, a brother to Pat, was a chief clerk
for the railroad. He later became councilman for the City of Asheville.
Pat took me to the Union News Company’s news stand in the station and bought two
five cent cigars. Later an engineer from the railroad bought a “Billboard” magazine, and I was
given to him in change for a dollar. He took me to the Glen Rock Hotel across the street, and I
was used in paying his bill. The clerk at the hotel bought some ice cream at Finley’s Drug Store
next door.
Mr. Finley gave me to his son, Bob, who took me to Montford Avenue School. Bob in
later years became the Supreme Court Justice for the State of Washington. Bob, on leaving
Montford Avenue School one day, took me to Mr. Book’s Grocery Store on Cherry Street and
bought some cookies. The people across the street from Mr. Book’s Grocery Store had a lot of
cherry trees on their land and they would pay boys from the school ten cents a quart to pick
cherries. Lion Carol Rhinehart picked a quart of cherries and received me in payment.
Lion Carl Rhinehart lost me in a marble game at school to Jack Roberts, who took me
home to 219 North Main Street. A creek ran parallel to North Main Street and emptied into the
French Broad. Jack found muskrats were running up and down the creek, so he recruited
some of the neighborhood boys who acquired steel traps and caught and sold the muskrat
hides to St. Penick and Company, at the corner of North Main and Lexington.
The next thing I recall I was in the pants pocket of Lion Bill Michalove, who took me to
the Galaxy Theater on Pack Square in order to see a serial movie called “The Black Hand.”
Bill’s brother, Dan, was manager of the Asheville Theaters, and he finally became Vice
President of Paramount Pictures, with headquarters in Australia. Since Bill had an “in” at the
theaters in town, he would, on occasion, take his teen-age boy friends back stage at the
Majestic Theater, located at the corner of College and Market Streets, to view the chorus girls
at close range. Tommy Elkins, the stage manager, would keep a close watch on the boys in
order to see that they behaved themselves.
It was in 1922 when I was used as part payment for a second hand Jeffery automobile
bought by Harry Blomberg. Harry took his Jeffery Auto to Asheville High School on Oak Street.
Someone dropped me on Market Street and I rolled down a storm sewer. I stayed there for a
long time and one day a man from the city’s water department found me and used me in a
donation to the Democratic Party of Buncombe County.
The chairman of the Party put me in a 10 cents slot machine at a social club.
�The player who won me at the slot machine would always put me back, hoping to win
more. I circulated in and out of the slot machine until 1950, when Lion Dr. Feldman won me.
Dr. Feldman had a reputation of never buying anything unless he could get it wholesale. Dr.
Feldman put me in the zipper change section of his pocketbook, and now I haven’t seen the
light of day for twenty years.
V. Jewish Jitter Bugs3
A bug is an insect. A Jitter Bug is an insect that jumps from place to place. A Jewish Jitter Bug
is a professional bum, claiming Jewish faith— jumping around from city to city — living off the
sympathy of his misinformed brothers - other Jews.
For twenty years, I have seen this bunch of crooks take from $300 to $400 a year out of my
community. I have learned their stories, their approach, their methods, and in fact, I can tell one just by
the sight of him. I have seem them go north in the summer-time, and south in the wintertime. I have
been awakened at all hours of the night by them, tracked down on Sundays and holidays. I have to put up
with them coming in my place of business, with no courtesy to me, or respect for my customers. I have
to watch them go away most always with a dissatisfied growl for what help they get, and seldom do I
hear a “Thank You”. I have to battle their high-powered maneuvers of artistic chiseling without the help
or appreciation of the Jewish Community in which I live.
Who are these people? Why, they are Jews — sure, they are a bunch of professional racketeers
that cost the Jewish public about one million dollars per year. If a Jew gets to a city and is broke - why,
the other Jews are supposed to help him out. What he is or what he does or where he comes from - don’t
make any difference - as long as he is a Jew that is all that is necessary. That is what you might think —
but I don’t!
There is not one Jewish transient in five hundred worthy of any help at all. They travel from
place to place using the fact that they are Jews to prey upon other Jews. Many of them are ex-convicts,
some just ordinary bums, and all of them liars.
In this army of rogues, you will not find one who has a friend or relative who they could obtain
help from. I have offered to wire to any person for hundreds of them, but they will tell ;you that all their
friends or relatives are broke, or that they wouldn’t think of asking any of them for money. Common
sense will tell you that, if a transient is worthy, there must be someone in this world who will help him to
some extent. I am sure if any of you gentlemen were to find yourself broke in some far off place, that
you would have at least one friend or relative to whom you could wire for help. These swindlers don’t
want to get help from friends or relatives. They are just traveling around, enjoying life in a peculiar way,
and living on the Jewish public, their so-called brothers.
So, when these Jewish Brothers of ours come to town, what are we supposed to do with them?
The only sensible thing we can do is to get rid of them as quickly and as cheaply as possible.
The most common type of transient is the ordinary bum who claims that he has a job in a nearby
city. All he wants from you is a couple of meals in a good restaurant, a room with a bath in a clean hotel,
transportation to the place he is going, and maybe a pair of shoes, a couple of shirts and an overcoat. In
order to get rid of this man quickly you must start talking before he does. So when I spot one, I start
talking first. I ask him if he wants some help, and as soon as he says “Yes” I hand him a half-dollar, a
meal ticket to a nearby restaurant, and tell him to get the hell out of town as fast as he can. Most of them
will take this and leave because they know, through their grapevine system, that this is all they can get.
3
Cite reference
�This system even informs them where to go to when you get to a town, and that is why nobody see the
majority of these people, except myself. Some of them insist that they have a special story to tell you
about their hard luck, and that they re different from the rest. These stories would make some of you
break down and weep, but to me these stories are just a bunch of fabricated lies.
Then, we have the group of transients who are physically disabled. Some are partially blind and
crippled. They will claim to have tuberculosis, nervous indigestion, high blood pressure or what-not.
Some will claim to have a combination or complication of diseases, or an assortment of ailments. If I am
convinced that the transient is really ill, then I buy him transportation to the nearest point, and get him
out of town as fast as I can. These people are never given cash for their transportation. A check is
written to the Bus Station for their ticket, and the Bus Station has instructions to issue a ticket stamped
“No Refund”.
This method was adopted after I found out some cashed their tickets back in, in order to get cash,
and bummed rides out on the highway to get to where they were going.
A decent looking, elderly lady once appealed to me for help. She stated that she was almost
blind, and was traveling with her son who was so crippled he couldn’t walk. She told me that she and her
son had come in on a bus late the night before, and were at a small hotel near the bus station. She
advised me that her son was ill in bed, that she was out of funds, could not pay her hotel bill, had nothing
to eat, and no way to get to a nearby city where her son was going to enter a hospital. “A worthy case, at
last!” I thought. I took her name, and ask her to come back in an hour, and I would see what I could do
for her. I inquired at the hotel, and found that nobody by the name she gave me was there. I asked her
about this when she returned, and she said that she did not use her real name since it was Jewish, and she
didn’t want people to think she was Jewish. I called the hotel again and inquired about the new name she
had given me, and the hotel informed me that the two of there were register there, but that her son
seemed healthy, and was in and out of the hotel all day long. Asking her about this, she explained that
her son went out only when he had to go to the drug store for medicine. It was cold and raining outside,
so I called the hotel, and told them I would pay their bill, gave her enough for food, bought her two bus
tickets, and gave her instructions to get out of town, by night without fail. It wasn’t long before I
received a phone call from a Jewish person in town stating that this old lady had called on him, and pe
proceeded to cuss me out for not giving her any help. To make a long story short--she called on three
more persons in the city with the same story - that I would not help her. A couple of hours later I went by
the hotel where she was staying and found that she had checked out and left in her room many pieces of
clothing that had been given to her by these people she had called on in the city.
Then we have the rabbis. They are a wonderful type of transient to deal with. They usually get
to town on Friday, so you have to keep them over “shabbos”. That means an expense of two nights
lodging and meals for a whole day. In fact, all the transients who arrive on Friday are “very religious”
and won’t travel on Friday night or Saturday. I’ve had many rabbis promise to send me back the money I
gave them, and never yet has one of them sent back a penny. In fact, of the hundreds of promises that
I’ve had from all kinds of transients to return money given them, never has one kept his promise.
The president of the orthodox congregation once phoned me, and told me that a rabbi was at this
house m and that this rabbi was a very fine person, a scholar, and a gentleman, a man is in need, and
suggested that I give him $5. I was just ready to leave my house, and I informed the president that I did
not have time to interview the rabbi myself, but that if he thought the man was worthy, to give him $5,
and I would return that amount to him later. I happened to pass by the president’s house just as the rabbi
was leaving there, and I took a good look at him. The next morning, the same rabbi was at my place of
business, wanting to know if I took care of the Jewish transients. He wasn’t a rabbi anymore, and he had
changed his name. I told him to come along with me, and I would take him to the man who could help
him. He got into the front seat of my automobile, and wanted to know where we were going, and when I
told him we were going to see the president of the orthodox congregation, he jumped out and ran. I ran
after him, and caught him on Patton Avenue. He started yelling like I was going to murder him, and a
crowd started to gather, so I let him go, and he ran away again. I haven’t seen him since.
�Another Rabbi once appealed to me for help, and he claimed to be a brother-in-law of the rabbi
in Greenville, SC. Knowing the rabbi in Greenville personally, I didn’t believe he would send a brotherin-law of his out of the state to chisel the public, so I phoned long distance to inquire about the man.
The rabbi in Greenville informed me that this transient had worried the community there a couple of days
before, that he was no relation of his, but claimed to be a brother-in-law of the rabbi in Columbia. This
man’s system was to claim relationship to a rabbi in a nearby city, in order to get help. I gave him $.50
and a meal ticket, and told him to get out of town before dark. He didn’t leave, instead he called on other
Jews in the city with the same story, and collected around $5 by noon the next day. I finally contacted
him, and told him again to get out of town, which he refused to do. So, I had the police department pick
him up, and put him in jail. In about an hour, I went over, and talked to him in jail, and he changed his
tune quite a bit. He was ready to leave town, so we let him out and this time I gave him fifteen minutes
to disappear--and he did!
Another rabbi once called on me, and stated that he was a representative of a Jewish institution
somewhere in Europe, and wanted a donation for it. I explained to him that we had a Federated Jewish
charities here to help him, and he would have to make his request through them. He kept insisting that I
give him a donation personally, and I kept refusing him. He finally gave up, proceeded to cut me out in
Yiddish, in a extremely loud voice — and this wasn’t all — he spit on the floor, slammed the door as
hard as he could as he went out. I felt like killing him, and I think it would have been justifiable
homicide.
I could tell you many tales of my experiences with these human vultures, but one I remember in
particular, was the time when a local judge phoned me, and told me that he would have to try a young
boy by the name of Goldberg for vagrancy. He asked me to recommend to him what to do with the boy.
I went over to see the defendant, and he happened to be one of the transients I had helped a few days
before. He had ordered a sandwich at a small restaurant on the outskirts of town, refused to pay for it, so
the restaurant man had him arrested. I told the judge of my experiences with the Jewish transients and
asked him to make an example out of this boy, so he gave him thirty days on the road. In sentencing the
boy, the judge told him that from now on every Jewish transient that was brought before him would get a
road sentence. Then I really got criticized by the Jewish community for putting Jewish Boys on the
Chain-gang. I was shown a copy of his criminal record from the FBI a few days later. He had been
convicted of all kinds of offenses from stealing a bicycle to highway robbery. After the boy got out, he
came to see me again, and feeling sorry for him, I bought him a ticket to Charlotte, and informed him that
I would see that every transient from now on coming into Asheville would get a road sentence. Before
that time, we had from ten to thirty transients per month appealing for help. It was interesting to note
that we didn’t have another transient come into Asheville, for six weeks after the boy left, and for a long
time after that, appeals for help were 50% of what they had been before that.
It is my sincere recommendation that every Jewish transient, coming into Asheville, be put in jail
for a certain length of time. This is the only way to cure this evil. Of course, the Jewish community
wouldn’t stand for anything like that, they would rather give these damned hoodlums a few hundred
dollars every year.
Then, we have the transients coming through in family groups. These groups consist of a mother
and father, with one or more children. They usually arrive in a dilapidated old automobile. Most of the
time, the automobile needs some repairs before they can leave town in it; it never has any gasoline and
usually needs a couple of quarts of oil. These parties are expensive and hard to handle, because you can
hardly send small children on their way without a night’s sleep and proper food.
Of course, I have some deserving cases, but I don’t class these with the transients. For instance,
a man once came in to see me, with the story that he had tuberculosis, and he had come down here from
Detroit as his doctor had recommended this climate to him. He expected to get a job as an elevator boy,
or something of the sort, and he was under the impression that the climate here would cure him while he
worked. Well, the man was broke, and was waiting for some financial help from his brother whom he
had written a few days before. I gave the man $4 and he promised to pay me back as soon as he heard
�from his brother. He came back the next day. He had heard from his brother. He showed me the letter
and his brother enclosed $10 which was all that he could send. He told me that he was unable to find
work, and was going to start back for Detroit. He offered me the $4 I had given him. I asked him how he
expected to get back to Detroit on $7, and he told me that he would have to hitch-hike. I told him to keep
the $4, and wish him the best of luck, and while I am not a doctor, I was under the opinion from his looks
that his health would never permit him to hitch-hike back home and get there alive.
So for twenty years, I have dealt with the bunch of beggars, coming from North, South, East, and
West. They have become a part of my life, and if I could get out of this job right now, I am sure I would
miss this horde of gangsters that hop around from place to place like a bunch of grasshoppers in a clover
patch.
VI. War Years4
Pilot on 023
On admission to the Air Force in 1943 I was interviewed as to what activity I had in a
business or profession, also what experience I had in religious, fraternal or civic affairs. I told
them I was just a clerk in a pawnshop.
I didn’t tell them that I once:
was president of a cemetery.
was an owner of a company that built floats and decorated the town for the first
Rhododendron Festival in Asheville.
supplied the Asheville Police Dept. and the Sheriff’s Dept. with guns and ammunition.
I didn’t tell them anything about my civic, fraternal, religious or social activities.
I was sent to Tishomingo, Oklahoma for training in the Oklahoma State College for
Agriculture to be an air force clerk in engineering. After graduating from the clerk’s school in
Tishomingo, I felt I would have an easy life in the Air Force being an engineering clerk. But my
duties from Tishomingo to the islands in the South Pacific were:
kitchen police
mess hall fireman
mess hall garbage director
cleaning chickens
policing grounds
digging ditches
hauling poles
hauling fire wood
hauling coal
fighting forest fires
4
. A more complete account of Leo Finkelstein’s experiences during World War II is
found in his Letters from Leo: Letters to the Asheivlle Lion’s Club (Center for Appalachian
Studies: Appalachian State University, Boone, NC, 1996)
�assorting merchandise at warehouse
assorting salvage merchandise
smashing tin cans
hauling water
finance clerk
detail clerk
runner for headquarters
stacking lumber
cleaning rifles and machine guns
building roads
repairing bridges
laying concrete
operating gasoline pump
telephone operator
making inventories of supplies
acting C.Q.
pulling weeds and grass
watering trees
loading and unloading trucks
loading and unloading freight cars
loading barracks bags on boats and trucks
cleaning hatches on boats
latrine orderly
painting machinery
communications clerk
and finally engineering clerk for the 394th Squadron, 5th bomb group of the 13th Air
Force.
Getting a good grade on my education at Tishomingo and experience in travel to the
South Pacific I thought I was ready to do my job.
My first difficulty was when A pilot comes in to see me after a combat mission on a B-24 Bomber number 023 and
said that he failed to put on his reporting form #Y that the tachometer indicator occilates
excessively, would I please write it in the form for him. I told him I would.
You know, I didn’t know what the h--- he was talking about and I couldn’t even spell it.
Tokyo Rose
Tokyo Rose was an American girl broadcasting from a radio station in Japan during
World War II. Her broadcast was received by the 13th Air Force in the Admiralty Islands located
�in the South Pacific area.
She played recorded American music in her broadcast. She advised us that our wives and
sweethearts were dating the 4 F’s - the men who stayed out of military service and they would go
to drive inns for hamburgers and coca-colas.
She also said that the Japanese would be waiting for our B-24 bombers scheduled for a
mission in the morning with anti-aircraft guns and fighter planes.
Radios were scarce on the island. I wanted to listen to Tokyo Rose so I wrote home and
requested a small radio to be shipped to me. They advised that the smallest radio weighed too
much to be shipped overseas by parcel post but they would take it apart and ship it in two
packages which was acceptable at the post office.
The radio department of the 5th Bomb Group said they would be glad to put the radio
together for me. When I received the shipment in two packages I gave it to them. They repaired
it the best they could. I found that when I turned it on it would work for about a minute and then
quit receiving. They couldn’t find the trouble.
One day I took a screw driver, tightened all the screws and thought I found the trouble. I
put the radio on the table in the tent, started it receiving and in one minute it stopped. I was
disgusted - I hit the radio, knocked it off the table. It hit the floor, bounced about 2 feet and
started playing. It was okay from then on.
In about a week Captain Gardner in the engineering department sent word that he wanted to see
me as soon as possible. I thought I had fouled up on keeping his engineering records but he had this to
say:
Corporal Finkelstein we are having trouble repairing the radio on airplane No. 022 and we
understand that you are the only one in the 394th Squadron that can solve our problem. Will you help
us?
I forgot what I said, but I couldn’t figure out how to knock an airplane off the table.
Topless Women
Now if you read the morning paper, you noticed headlines on the front page: “Topless
Night Club Opens in Asheville.”
Well, you didn’t need a night club to see topless women on those South Pacific Islands
during WWII. The trouble was they would move all the women to another island close by the
island we occupied. We built a motor boat made of two airplane belly tanks and a small power
unit so that we could go over and see the women at another island.
I didn’t go over to see the women. I wasn’t afraid of them, but I was afraid the boat
might sink.
�Sergeant Joe
In 1944, Sergeant Joe, the mess sergeant in my outfit in the 13th Air Force located in the
South Pacific during World War II, received a shipment of canned corn. Instead of using it for
chow, he built a still in a fox hole and made corn whiskey out of it. Joe ran a road house in
Greenville, South Carolina before the war and in a neighborly spirit he invited me to drink what I
wanted of the corn whiskey and he helped me trade watch bands for coca-cola syrup and ice
cream from a Navy C.B. outfit located near by.
After the war, he operated his road house in Greenville again. He came to see me and
advised that they had arrested his partner for hauling whiskey in Buncombe County and wanted
to know if I could help him. I told him that I knew the Chief of Police and Sheriff Brown and I
would be glad to see what the situation was. He told me they couldn’t help as it was the Federal
authorities that arrested his partner. Thinking of how to get him a light sentence I asked Joe if
his partner was in the armed forces and he said that they had turned him down because he has a
heart murmur. I told Joe to send him to Dr. Feldman and I’d get the report from him as to his
heart murmur. Dr. Feldman told me he had a heart murmur and as Federal Physician he would
advise Judge Warlick about in federal court. At the trial Joe’s partner went scott free. Later he
came to see me with a roll of hundred dollar bills and wanted to pay me for getting him off. I
refused the money and told him that Joe had helped me out during the war and what I did was a
favor to Joe. Later he brought me six fifths of Scotch for a present, which I kept.
While overseas, besides having corn whiskey made by Joe and medical alcohol diluted
50% by water and flavored with burnt sugar, we were able to buy bonded whiskey from the
flying personnel who didn’t drink their ration. Price was $60 per fifth. They were looking for
souvenirs so I wrote Nat Friedman to send me a Japanese hare-kari knife from his antique store.
He sent me a similar one. It was a circular shape Turkish knife with Turkish letters on it. My
cost was $4. It looked like a hare-kari knife. I gave it to Sergeant Joe and asked him to see if he
could trade for a Fifth of bonded whiskey. He reported later that he got two fifths for it.
Sgt. Smokey Joe’s home is just a little bit south of Asheville, NC. He was mess sergeant
for the 394th squadron, a good guy, and a GI who could sympathize with all the other GI’s who
had to eat the food he prepared.
Before the war Smokey Joe owned a road house on the highway going south from
Asheville and after talking to him I found that I had patronized his institution on numerous
occasions during my younger years. Since we were practically neighbors in civilian life, we felt
that we should continue over there as good neighbors and so we were. There is no better friend
in the army than a cook because when you get hungry, he is the only man who can help you out.
In passing I might mention that Smokey Joe, Starvin Marvin and I have on numerous instances
enjoyed eating surplus stocks of food from the Mess Hall.
Smokey Joe told me about Sheriff Brown, in Asheville, taking his automobile away from
him once because the sheriff had found some whiskey in it that he was transporting to his road
house.
�Now Smokey is fighting to get his freedom - his freedom to go home and dodge Sheriff
Brown some more, and there is Starvin Marvin who wants to go home and see his wife and two
year old boy, a child that he has never seen, and so it is with me - I want to go home - I just want
to go home.
VII. After the War
Sgt. Smokey Joe
After the war Smokey Joe opened his road house again near Greenville, SC. He came to
see me and advised that they had arrested his partner for hauling whiskey in Buncombe County
and wanted to know if I could help him out.
I told him I knew the Chief of Police and Sheriff Brown and I would be glad to see what
the situation was. He told me they couldn’t help as it was the Federal Authorities that arrested
his partner. Thinking of how to get him a light sentence, I asked Joe if his partner was in the
armed forces and he said that they had turned him down because he had a heart murmur. I told
Joe to send his partner to Lion Dr. Feldman who was Federal Physician and I would get a report
from him as to his heart murmur.
Lion Dr. Feldman told me he had a heart murmur and as a Federal Physician he would
advise Judge Warlick about it in Federal Court. At the trial, Joe’s partner got a suspended
sentence. Later he came to see me with a roll of hundred dollar bills and wanted to pay me for
getting him off. I refused the money and told him that Joe had helped me out during the war and
what I did was a favor to Joe. Later he brought me six fifths of scotch for a present which I kept.
Corn Whiskey at Road House
Before the war, road houses would hide the corn whiskey they served their guests in a
container under a bed. When the sheriff’s dept. would raid the joint, they usually wouldn’t look
for it there. One night they found it and an article appeared in the Asheville Citizen that the
sheriff’s dept. confiscated a gallon of whiskey hid in a container at a road house.
J im Dwelbiss and Beaver Lake
Returning home from World War II, I was interested in building a house to live in.
Jim Dwelbiss, president of the Asheville Lions Club 1941-1942, said that he had a lot
across the street from his home on Westwood Road in Lakeview Park and if I would build a one
story house so he could see Beaver Lake over the roof of my house, he would give me a good
deal. I acquired the lot and built the house. He told me that as a resident of Lakeview Park I
should take on some activity for the benefit of the park.
He took me to the annual meeting of the property owners and I was elected as one of the
three commissioners - no salary. When I met with the other two commissioners they told me I
�had charge of the lake and fishing and they would back me up in anything I wanted to do. I got
phone calls.
I got a phone call from a resident and he says “Stop the fishing, the fish are diseased.” I
contacted the game warden from the NC Wildlife Resources Commission and we found a service
station by the creek that furnished the lake with water that had put old oil from automobiles in it
and it had killed a few fish.
I get a phone call from a lady that an awful looking man wearing overalls was fishing. I
asked her did she expect him to wear a tuxedo.
I get a call advising that two women indecently dressed were near the dam of the lake. I
found them to be the wives of the two commissioners sun bathing.
I found two men swimming in the lake, which was against the rules. They told me they
would swim and that I couldn’t stop them. I told them to swim if they wanted to and that a sewer
line had broken and was emptying in the lake and would probably get typhoid fever - they
stopped swimming.
I found a group of women in bathing suits at the lake near Glenn Falls Road with a
photographer. I found them to be local beauticians getting their picture with the lake in the
background. They were using the picture on a cover of a program for a State Convention of
Beauticians in Asheville.
Fishing in the lake was allowed for licensed property owners only. I saw a man standing
at the edge of the lake for 30 minutes just looking. On investigation I found he had a line tied to
his belt that ran down the inside of his pants leg over his shoe into the lake. On the line he had a
float and a baited hook. When the fish would bite and pull the float under he would kick his leg,
hang the fish, pull it in and nobody would know he was fishing.
I appreciated what Lion Dwelbiss had done by getting me elected to be fish commissioner
of Beaver Lake.
But I got a call that I was going to be elected president of Congregation Beth-Ha-Tephila
and that construction would be started soon on a temple at Liberty and Broad Sts. I thought I
could use some religion so I didn’t run again for commissioner of Lakeview Park and I took up
my duties as president of Beth-Ha-Tephila. I completed the building of financing of the new
temple in two years.
I was tired out and hoped that maybe I could get some rest by being fish commissioner
again at Beaver Lake.
Sternberg Hunting Rats
�Joe Sternberg was president of the Lion’s Club in 1960-61. His father Seigfred
Sternberg, came over to the U.S. at the turn of the century, procured a horse and wagon, drove
around western North Carolina buying cowhides and junk. He finally opened a junk yard on
Depot Street and became one of the largest cowhide dealers in the United States. Lion Joe was
my classmate in the A.H.S. class of 1922. He would rent a freight car on the local freight train to
Murphy and buy cowhides at the stations where the train stopped.
I was watch inspector for the Southern Railway and would travel on the same train, give
the employees a certificate that in my opinion the watch they had wouldn’t vary over 30 seconds
a week.
Going west you could go as far as Waynesville by auto and then by train to Murphy. Lion
Joe Dave, president of the club in 1932, was construction engineer for the Sternberg Co. who
supplied steel for the construction of buildings. Later he organized the Dave Steel Co.
Old man Sternberg did well financially and became president of the Southern State Bank
on Depot St.
He became active in religious and fraternal affairs in Asheville. He built a big home on
Victoria Drive. He didn’t like the help he was getting in Asheville so he imported a young
beautiful maid from Germany. The maid went down to get an item at the garage and found Mr.
Sternberg there. Mr. Sternberg got fresh with the maid, the maid picked up a 22 caliber rifle and
shot him. The wound wasn’t serious.
The next morning a news item appeared in the Asheville Citizen with the head line:
“Sternberg Hunting Rats in the Garage.”
Irving S. Cobb and Grove Park Inn
About sixty years ago my friend Fred Bradley was night clerk at Grove Park Inn. He
would tell me about the operation of the Inn. A guest would find his home town newspaper at
his breakfast table. If he paid for anything, what change, if needed, would be given to him in
uncirculated money.
The only entrance to the Inn’s grounds was a large gate off of Macon Ave. The gate was
closed at 10 PM as the noise from any automobile going in and out would disturb the guests.
Irving S. Cobb, famous humorist, was spending a couple of days at the Inn. A little after ten
o’clock one night he tried to get his auto into the Inn’s grounds. He found the gate locked. He
had to park his car on Macon Avenue.
He walked to the Inn and complained loudly about it. He was advised that the Inn didn’t
welcome any unusual noises after 10 PM. In a little while he came down to the lobby from his
�room carrying his shoes, nothing on his feet but his socks, walked very quietly to Fred Bradley,
the night clerk, and whispered to him “I want to check out.”
In a couple of days a news item appeared in the Asheville Citizen written by Irving Cobb
with the headline: “The Bunk of Buncombe.”
Read news article from Citizen-Times on suicide
This reminded me of a historical event years ago when I was selling guns. A customer
said he wanted an inexpensive pistol to keep in his home and he just obtained a permit to buy it.
I sold him a 22 cal. Iver Johnson pistol. This type gun was later known as a “Saturday Night
Special.”
When I completed the sale I said “Thank you mister.” He said “Don’t call me mister, I’m
a doctor. You call me doctor.” I said, “Thank you doctor.” He took the gun home and
committed suicide with it.
Now: I got to thinking if he bought the gun today he would have to make application to
get a permit and wait two or three days for the permit to be issued. Maybe if he had to wait that
long for a permit, he might have changed his mind about the suicide.
Then: As a doctor I wondered why he didn’t write a prescription for some high powered
sleeping pills, take several of them and just go to sleep and not wake up.
I think I got an explanation. If any of you had to buy prescription drugs today, you know
now expensive they are. And if they were that expensive back then when this happened, I guess
the doctor felt he could save money by committing suicide with a “Saturday Night Special.”
Problems in Water and Sewer Systems
If you’ve read the newspapers lately, you know that the city of Asheville has problems in
their water and sewer systems.
I had some personal problems, so I phoned doctor #1. The lady answering the phone said
that she would advise his nurse. His nurse was busy with a patient and the nurse would phone
me later. The nurse phones me in about an hour. I asked the nurse if I was supposed to talk to
her in a dignified way or call everything by its right name. She said to do what I think best, so I
tell her what’s troubling me and that it had the color of Coca-Cola or Pepsi-Cola, I don’t know
which.
She said she would talk to the doctor and call me back. She calls back and says I ought to
see doctor #2 who is a specialist with my troubles. He has a Rotto Rutter. I found out a Rotto
Rutter is a gadget used by plumbers on home work.
I see doctor #2 and he advises that he can’t find anything of a serious nature wrong. I go
back to doctor #1. He makes several tests. He tells me to go back to doctor #2, that he is going
to advise him of what he found and would ask him to make a complete examination.
�Back in doctor #2's office, an assistant brings in a machine for examination. He tells me
that this machine is a new one, and it don’t hurt like the old one. After the examination, the
doctor makes an appointment for me to go to the hospital for a I.V.P. examination and bring the
x-rays back to him. I take the x-rays back to doctor #2's office and the doctor says that they look
pretty good, that all I need would be surgery and a 2 to 3 days stay in the hospital or it may be 6
days.
I go back to the hospital for pre-admission tests and they do all the same tests that were
done two or three times before and the nurse asked me a lot of personal questions. She asked if I
had a BM. I knew that AM meant from midnight to noon and PM meant the time from noon to
midnight. So I figured out the BM meant a BAD MORNING, so I told the nurse that I had a BM
for about a week.
I was told to report for surgery the next Wednesday at 6:30 AM, somewhat earlier than I
usually get up. I get a phone call from doctor #2's nurse Tuesday night advising that the doctor is
ill and would be unable to do the surgery and it would be postponed.
Later I get a phone call that the surgery had been rescheduled for March 2nd at 1 PM. I
had 5 days to review the situation and I think I was mentally, physically, and maybe financially
ready for surgery.
End of Report. I now feel good.
Finis
I had the honor of serving as president of Beth-Ha-Temphila in 1948 and 1949 during the
building and financing of the new temple at Liberty and Broad Streets.
I was Master of Ceremonies for the 50th Anniversary Banquet program of Beth-HaTehphila in 1941.
I also presided at the 75th Anniversary Banquet in 1966.
I have put in my application to preside at the 100th in 1991.
Unless we are Indians, our ancestors came from Foreign Lands. I am thankful they did
what they did so that I could have the privilege of growing up in a city like Asheville, enjoy this
great country of ours---a land of religious freedom and opportunity.
�
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Leo Finkelstein Papers
Description
An account of the resource
This collection contains materials relating to Leo Finkelstein, resident of Asheville, North Carolina, the Asheville Lions Club, and the Beth Ha-Tephila Cemetery in Asheville. It contains computer discs, notes, scrapbooks, book drafts, correspondence, photographs, programs, fliers, and other materials related Leo Finkelstein, his wife Sylvia, and the Lions Club, Elks Club, and Jewish Community in Asheville, North Carolina.
Contributor
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Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998
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Leo Finkelstein: Personal History (draft)
Date
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1997-10-16
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English
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107_01_LeoAsheville
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Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998
Jews--North Carolina--Asheville--History
Asheville (N.C.)--History
Description
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Finkelstein explains his family's past, beginning in Lithuania and ending in Asheville, North Carolina.
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<a title="AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/192" target="_blank"> AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers </a>
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Text
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29 pages
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Asheville (N.C.)
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https://www.geonames.org/4453066/asheville.html
America
ancestors
Asheville
autobiography
Depression
Flanders
goyim
Jews
Lithuania
pawn shop
Pisgah
Prohibition
World War II
-
https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/files/original/d084059d6c9829c71043ed306c3ee95f.pdf
5f53148a42e7bc5f8de3ac437eb88ac7
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Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998--Family
Jews--North Carolina--Asheville--History
PDF Text
Text
In Nineteen Five
I became alive
and what I found
around this town
Was joy and tears
for 50 years.
Origins
In 1799, my great-great grandfather was a chicken farmer in the town of Pushalot, in the
state of Lithuania, in the Soviet Union.
It was a hard life in the town of Pushalot. The winters were nine months long and
unendurably cold. The summers were hot and rainy. There were occasional pogroms or Russian
Cossaks rampaging through the streets terrorizing the countryside, gypsies stealing everything in
sight, including sometimes even children, and always there was the threat of Siberia.
My ancestors, like most Jews, were very poor, hard working and suffering. My greatgreat grandfather bought eggs from all the chicken farmers, packed them carefully on a wagon,
covered them with straw to keep them cool and fresh and rode many miles to Kovna, Vilna and
Riga to sell the eggs at the big city markets.
In 1825, my great grandfather served as a rabbi in Pushalot.
In 1872, my grandfather opened a kretchma in Pushalot. A kretchma is a Russian inn
somewhat like out modern motels, only they didn’t have swimming pools or air conditioning. It
was a place travelers could stop for food or drink or spend the night.
One day a Bolshevik on horseback stopped at the Inn and drank a lot of vodka. He got
fresh with my grandmother, who I understand was a good looking girl in those days. My father, a
teenage boy, picked up a piece of stove wood, hit him on the head and knocked him out. That
was an awful crime in Russia for a Jewish boy. My grandfather made a temporary settlement
with the Russian and gave him 50 rubles.
My father thought that they may send him to jail or Siberia, so he stole his way across the
border into Germany. He didn’t like Germany, so he left Germany and made his way to South
Africa.
He went to work as a house painter in Johannesburg. He became ill from the lead
poisoning in the paint. There were no United Way or Federate Jewish Charities down there, but
someone took pity on him and nursed him back to health. He sold cigarettes and sandwiches at a
stock exchange and he finally opened a resturant.
�In 1898, right before the English-Boer War, my father sold his resturant for gold coins,
got a money belt, and went down to Cape Town. He had a cousin in Australia and a brother in
Jacksonville, Florida. By a flip of a coin he came over to Jacksonville, Florida.
In Jacksonville, Florida, he went to night school to learn to read and write English.
In 1900, he became ill and the doctor in Jacksonville told him the only place to go to get
cured would be the mountains. He came up to Asheville, and Doctor Smith told him he would
die of anything except what they sent him to Asheville for, so that he might as well go back to
Jacksonville. He like Asheville so much he decided to stay here.
In 1903, he opened a pawn shop at 23 South Main Street (now Biltmore Avenue). He
married Fanny Sherman from Newport News, Virginia, and made their home in an apartment on
Ashland Avenue.
In 1905, my father became a citizen of the United States.
Among the organizations he joined were the Asheville Board of Trade (now The
Asheville Chamber of Commerce), the Fraternal Order of Eagles, Suez Temple of the Oramatic
Order of Khorosson, Lodge #1401 BPO, Elks, Mt. Herman Masonic Lodge, Scottish Rite
Masonic Lodge, Oasis Temple of Shriners, Congregation Bikur Cholim (now Beth Isreal), and
Congregation Betha-Ha-Tephila.
So, the Twentieth Century began with:
1.
The pawnbroker named Finkelstein.
2.
S.H. Friedman, who operated a furniture store. He came to Asheville from
Maryland, where he peddled tinware. His son, Nat Friedman, later operated the
Susquehana Antique Co.
3.
A Jewish lawyer by the name of Goldstein.
4.
A Jewish plumber by the name of A.J. Huvard. He married E.C. Goldberg’s
sister. E.C. Goldberg ran a news stand next to the Imperial aTheater on Patton
Avenue for years.
5.
A Jewish dentist by the name of I. Mitchell Mann.
6.
Harry Blomberg’s father who came to Asheville in 1887. He operated the Racket
Store on Biltmore Avenue for many years.
7.
The Palais Royal Department Store operated by Morris Meyers for 40 years. He
was a charter member of Congregation Beth-Ha-Tephila and he came to Asheville
in 1887.
8.
The Bon Marche Department Store operated by Solomon Lipinsky.
9.
A Jewish postman who delivered mail by the name of Barney Seigle. I was
particularly interested in Barney because he had a sister by the name of Ester, who
was in my class in high school — a beautiful and affectionate student.
10.
An industrialist named Seigfred Sternberg.
11.
Dan Michalove, who worked at the first movie houses in town and finally
advanced to Vice-President of Paramount Pictures and was put in charge of all
�12.
13.
14.
their theaters in Australia.
Lou Pollock, who operate a shoe store at the corner of South Main and Eagle
Streets. He once ran a shoe sale for $.98 a pair.
Leo Cadison, who came here for his health, operated a ladies clothing store on
Pack Square, finally moved to Washington, D.C., and became an attorney by act
of Congress. He was a speech writer for the Attorrney General of the United
States.
An orthodox Rabbi by the name of Londow.
It was in 1883 Jews were arriving to become pioneers in the Asheville community. Some
came to make a better livelihood and for opportunity. Morris Myers served as Exalted Ruler of
the Old Elks Lodge #608. The moderate climate and mountain air attracted others to Asheville, a
growing medical haven for the sufferers of chronic respiratory diseases.
Congregation Beth-ha-Tephila
It was on August 23, 1891, twenty-seven men met in Lyceum Hall and adopted a
constitution for Congregation Beth-Ha-Temphila. Among the charter members were the
Blomberg, Lipinsky, and Zagier families. It is noted that the dues were $10 a year, payable in
advance. Lyceum Hall was the first home of the Congregation. It was rented from a fraternal
order for $75 a year.
Congregation Bikur Cholim
Rabbi Londow became the rabbi for Congregation Bikur Cholim whose articles of
incorporation were filed in the Court Clerk’s office in February 1899. The incorporators were
J.B. Schwartzberg, A. Blomberg, Sam Feinstein, S.H. Michalove, A. Shenbaum, M. Zuglier, and
R.B. Zagier.
Since the community could not pay Rabbi Londow a decent wage, he operated a Jewish
grocery store on the side. He was a kindly old gentleman with a big beard, wore his hat around
the grocery store at all times except when a lady called him on the telephone. He would remove
the hat during the conversation and put it back on his head after the phone call.
I remember a big barrel of herring in the center of the store. Plain herring were 5 cents
each and milk herring ten cents.
A newly married lady in the Congregation once called Rabbi Londow and complained
that a duck she bought from him was old and too tough to eat. Rabbi Londow asked what she
expected him to do --- look down the duck’s mouth and count its teeth!
The first religious services of Bikur Cholim I remember attending was on the second
floor of a building at the corner of Patton Avenue and Church Street. It was early in the life of
Bikur Cholim that the congregation split up due to a big argument. Half of the members formed
another congregation and called it Anshei Hashuron. They rented a second floor of an apartment
house at the corner of Central Avenue and Woodfin Street. However, through the efforts of the
impartial moderates, a compromise was reached and a permanent division averted.
�Nevertheless, the apartment was kept for a religious school. It was here I received my
first Hebrew lesson. Rabbi Fox was teaching us the four questions to ask at our Passover meal.
At this time my father would attend all the board meetings of Bikur Cholim. He would
come home upset and nervous. Dr. Smith suggested he not attend any more Synagogue meetings
due to his high blood pressure.
Rabbi Fox was active on the 9th and 10th degrees of Scottish Rite Masonry. After his
death I assumed his parts in these degrees and I am still on the degree teams.
Hebrew School
In 1911, erection of a house of worship was started on South Liberty Street for
Congregation Bikur Cholin. Although it wasn’t completed until 1916, the Hebrew School
moved there in 1912. Hebrew classes were scheduled every Saturday through the winter. The
only heat we had was from a large coal stove in the center of the sanctuary. The stove was
prepared for a fire to be lit on Saturday morning before the Hebrew class met. Since the Rabbi
wouldn’t light a fire on the Sabbath he arranged for a neighborhood boy to come in and light it.
He would place a dime under a prayer book and after the boy had lit the fire he would tell the boy
to get the dime
75 to 100 years ago in Asheville. Now about that time there were two synagoges in Asheville.
My family belongs to the orthodox. from under the prayer book.
The orthodox had strict rules for obeying the sabbath which began Friday at sundown and ended
Saturday night. So if you owned an automobile you put it in your garage Friday evening and took it out
Saturday night after sundown. You walked to religious services at the synagogue on the sabbath. To
obey the sabbath correctly you were not allowed to operate a business, spend money, smoke, strike a
match, work, cook and many other activities were forbidden. Remember this was about 100 years ago.
You weren’t supposed to tear paper. Now if you had a bathroom with paper on a roll, you tore
the paper off for Friday in case it may be needed for the sabbath.
The same rule applies to outhouses with old Sears Roebuck catalogues.
As far as I know none of these rules are observed today.
When I was 11 years old I attended Hebrew school conducted by the rabbi on Saturday morning
in the edifice of the synagogue. The sanctuary contained nothing but pews and a coal stove for heat. The
basement was used for storage and rest rooms. In the winter time the rabbi fixed the stove for a fire
Friday so that it could be lit Saturday morning to produce heat for the Hebrew class.
Since the rabbi shouldn’t light a fire or spend money on the sabbath, he arranged for a boy in the
neighborhood to light the fire Saturday morning. He placed a dime under a prayer book Friday and told
the boy where to get a dime after lighting the fire on Saturday.
One real cold morning the boy didn’t show up to light the fire. We were attending Hebrew class
�in sweaters, coats and overcoats and it was awful cold. I asked to be excused and coming up from the
basement I reported to the rabbi that the plumbing must have frozen as there was water leaking in several
places. The rabbi rushed downstairs to investigate the troubles and the Hebrew class rushed out of the
synagogue not to return until warm weather.
For your information, there was no water leaking.
Even in those days educational institutions had trouble with rebelling students. The boy
that was to light the fire didn’t show up. It was very cold that day. I asked to be excused and
went downstairs. When I came back I reported to Rabbi Redunsky that the pipes had froze and
broke. The Rabbi went to see about it. I advised the class that there were no broken pipes and
suggested that we leave the building --- which we did --- not to return until warm weather.
The member of Bikur Cholim who owned an automobile would put them up Friday
afternoon to observe the Sabbath and wouldn’t take them out until Saturday after sun down.
Most of the members lived within walking distance of the Synagogue.
The building of the Synagogue was completed in 1916 and the day before the eve of
Rosh-Hashonah a fire completely destroyed the building. Mrs. Rosenfeld had a Jewish Boarding
House next door and she cried and complained that she had just cleaned her house for Yontiff
and smoke had dirtied the place up. The Masonic Temple was offered to us to use for the High
Holy Day Services and we accepted.
The Cemetary
In those days Asheville was a place thar offered a cure for Tuberculosis. Many
sanatoriums were located in the hills around town. A Jewish man died in one of the sanatoriums
and had no money or family. No cemetery in town would bury him unless someone paid $100
for the grave. It was then that nine Jewish men formed the “West Asheville Hebrew Cemetery
Association Inc”. My father was the first president. In their Bi-Laws it was stated that anyone of
Jewish Faith could be buried there. The price of a grave was $100 and if there was no one to pay
it there would be no charge. The cemetery changed it’s name some years later to “Mt. Sinai
Cemetery” and sometime after to “The Lou Pollock Memorial Park”. After father died, Lou
Pollock became president. After his death, I was the vice-president and assumed the duties of the
president. I conferred with David Adler and set up a meeting between the directors of the
cemetery and members of Beth Israel. The ownership of the cemetery was transferred to Beth
Israel.
The following names of the nine founders can be seen on a plaque at the entrance to the
cemetery bearing the date 1916:
Sam Feinstein
Isaac Michalove
Lou Pollock
�S.W. Silverman
Sender Argentar
Rabbi Elias Fox
Dave Schundler
Barney Pearlman
Harry Finkelstein
Benevolent Societies
Around this time my father felt that some home-made chicken soup would help the
Jewish patients in the sanatoriums. A number of Jewish women set up a kitchen and once a
week hot chicken soup was made available tot he Jewish patients and to others who requested it.
Rabbi Fox acquired business interests in Asheville and served as part-time Rabbi. He
was associated with a local butcher who made Kosher meat available. He would go by the
homes of members and kill the chickens.
In 1917, some of us young Jewish boys decided that we ought to have Y.M.H.A. or a
Community Center in Asheville. Rabbi Fox met with us and suggested that we form a Y.M.H.A.
He said a community center was for the community only, but a bigger and better organization
would be a Y.M.H.A. because it extended from coast to coast. He told us a story about when he
first came to this country and wanted to see the Brooklyn Bridge. He found a man who could
talk Yiddish and after looking at the bridge he asked why they built the bridge with a lot of little
cables instead of one big cable. The man explained to him that if one or two cables broke it
would not harm the bridge, but if there was one big cable and it broke the bridge would fall in.
Mr. Sternberg and Mr. Leavitt
Seventy-five years ago there was no United Way in Asheville. There were many local charitable
organizations sponsored by churches, synagoges, houses of worship, also the YMCA, the Salvation
Army, the Elks Lodge and the Jewish Ladies Aid Society. Lion Joe Sternberg’s father was active in
civic, religious, fraternal organizations in Asheville. At that time he was collecting donations for the
“Ladies Aid Society” of Asheville. He went to see Mr. Leavitt who operated a ladies ready to wear store
on South Main St. near Pack Square. He wouldn’t donate more than $5 and this didn’t please Mr.
Sternberg.
Mr. Sternberg was the owner of the building Mr. Leavitt operated his store in. He found Mr.
Leavitt violated the terms of his lease because he subletted a portion of the store for a shoe department.
Mr. Sternberg told Mr. Leavitt that he would have to give the Ladies Aid Society a suitable donation or
vacate the building his store was in because he had violated the terms of the lease. They selected three
�men to determine what amount Mr. Leavitt should give the Ladies Aid Society. It was agreed that the
amount they decided on would be satisfactory to Mr. Sternberg and Mr. Leavitt.
Mr. Sternberg selected a man to represent himself. Also Mr. Leavitt picked out the second man.
They needed a man to represent both of them and they finally selected my father. The committee decided
that Mr. Leavitt should donate $500 to the Ladies Aid Society.
Rabbi Fox said that therefore us boys should be little cables and hold up the Y.M.H.A. we were
going to form.
After the fire that destroyed Birur Cholim Synagogue on South Liberty Street the second
floor of the Sondley Building on Broadway was rented for the use of the congregation. A
member of the congregation, a young man, forgot he had made a date with a waitress in the
Langren Hotel and attended the meeting of the congregation. The lady waited in front of the
Masonic Temple with a gun and took a shot at him after the meeting when was leaving the
building. She missed. After going to Hebrew School in the building we would stop and examine
the hole the bullet made in the front wall of the building.
In 1911, I started school at Montford Avenue Grammar School.
In 1918, I went to U.N.C. for 2 days, and had to come home to run the paawnshop.
In the February 1922 graduating class in Asheville High School, there were 5 boys and 14
girls. Therefore, each boy was expected to take 3 girls to the Senior Class Dance of February
1922. Things were better when we had a dance for the entire year. There were three Jewish girls
in the total 1922 class — Madeline Blomberg, Eva Sternberg, and Ester Seigle.
I was the only student to take an automobile to school in 1922. It was a Paige make with
a “bathtub black” model. I was the business manager of the “Hill Billy”, the school monthly
magazine. I was given any study hall period off that I wanted to collect for ads that appeared in
the magazine, so I would take my auto and a girl to help me from the study hall. After collecting
for one ad we would ride over to the Charlotte Street Drug Store and participate in Ice Cream
Sodas for the balance of the study hall period.
Around this time Mr. Sternberg had a large junk yard and warehouse on Depot Street. He
bought and sold hundreds of cow hides. On all his advertisements he carried the slogan “We buy
anything and sell everything”. A circus came to town and didn’t have enough money to leave.
They applied to Mr. Sternberg who was president of the Southern State Bank on Depot Street for
a loan of $200. Mr. Sternberg made the loan and took the elephant as collateral. He complained
he was losing money on account of the elephant eating so much, but was helped out when Mr.
Buseck, who owned Middlemont Gardens bout the manure from him.
On Sundays in 1925, the Jewish crowd of teenagers and somewhat older boys and girls
would gather at the home of the Sternbergs on Victoria Road. The Sternbergs had four children:
Eva, Joe, Johanna, and Rose. One of the older girls in the crowd was named Jennie. One day I
asked her how she managed to be so popular among the boys, and her answer was, “Well, I’m
not so pretty, but I’m catchie”.
�I dated Eva and one night I called at the house to take her out and her father yelled to us
from the second floor of the house “Don’t you go me no road houses”, and Eva replied “What’s
the matter papa --- you afraid we are going to find you there!”
One night Mr. Sternberg invited some of his men friends over to his home to participate
in a small limit poker game. Sone one tipped off the police that a game was going on. The home
was raided and Mr. Sternberg gave the names of the players as Mr. Aleph, Mr. Baze, Mr.
Gimmel, Mr. Dolad, Mr. Hay, Mr. Vove, Mr. Zion, and Mr. Hess. The Asheville Citizen carried
a story that an attorney appeared in police court for Mr. Aleph, Mr. Baze, Mr. Vove, Mr. Zion,
and Mr. Hess and paid their fines. Very few people knew that their names were the first eight
letters of the Hebrew Alphabet.
It was in 1933, after Franklin Roosevelt was elected president of the United States, that
the Volstead Act was repealed and it became legal to sell beer with an alcoholic content on
October 1st. I was president of a mens social club, and it became my duty to get beer to serve to
the members. This was a difficult job as none was available from distributors around Asheville.
1933 was the year of the Great Depression and Rabbi Goodcowitz bought a second hand truck
from Harry Blomberg and was doing some hauling on the side to supplement his income from
Bikur - Cholim. Rabbi Goodcowitz said he would go to Baltimore and get us a load of beer as he
personally knew the owner of the Valley Forge Beer co. There. I gave him six hundred dollars of
the clubs money and he left on a Monday to be back on Thursday. He didn’t show up, but came
in the following Monday. The delay was due to the truck breaking down on the trip. Of course I
was somewhat concerned but the club had a truck load of Valley Forge Beer available.
Leo Cadison saw me and advised that he had talked to the United States Senator Robert
R. Reynolds, and the members were starting a campaign to sell the beer before October lst.
Captain Fred Jones of the Asheville Police Department, and a member of the house
committee said he would not recommend selling it before the legal date.
At the club that week, I noted about 150 members were present instead of the usual 40.
Under “good and welfare” Senator Reynolds, a great oriator, spoke in favor of selling the beer
and said that we were all brothers in a non-profit and charitable organization, and it would be
legal to sell it. Others spoke in favor of selling the beer were Judge Philip Cocke, State Senator,
A. Hall Johnson Superior Court Judge, Dan Hill, Postmaster, Marcus Erwin U.S.Attorney, Zeb
Mettles Superior Court Judge, Charles McRae local attorney, and Leo Cadison. Leo Cadison
made a motion that we advise the House Manager to put the beer on ice so that we could drink it
after the meting. I advised Mr. Cadison that I could not accept a motion of an illegal nature but
under Robert’s Rules of Palamentry procedure he could appeal from my decision. He appeared
and I advised the question be voted don would be “Shall the decision of the chair stand” and
there would be no discussion. The vote was unanimous against my decision (which suited me)
and I instructed the secretary to take everything out of the minutes pertaining to beer, also to
advise the house manager to put the beer on ice so we could have it after the meeting. He said
that it was to late to advise him because the beer had been on ice for the past two hours.
�In the 1930's William Dudley Pelly operated the “Silver Shirts”, a Nazi like organization
in a building across the street from the Jewish Community Center on Charlotte Street. He
published the Liberation Weekly, anti-semetic literature with a circulation of eight thousand.
In a parade, I was playing th esaxaphone with the Asheville Shrine Club Marching Band,
and William Rosenfelt was carrying the American Flag. Pelly in his “Liberation Weekly”
published a story that we were disgraced by a Jew with a big nose carrying the American Flag.
Pelly was arrested by the Buncombe County Sheriffs Department in 1941 for selling unregistered
stock. He was found guilty through the efforts of Julius Levitch, a young Jewish lawyer by the
name of Alvin Kurtus, and a local attorney named R.R. Williams.
On July 25, 1923, the Emporium Department Store owned by Jack Blomberg at the
corner of Pack Square and South Main Street was destroyed by a major fire. It was feared that
the entire block of Eagle Street would be destroyed. Many of the Jewish merchants who operated
clothing stores in the block brought their insurance polices and books to the pawnshop across the
street and requested that we put them in our safes which were two of the largest moveable safes
in town. These two safes are now located at 21 Broadway
While my sisters Rosa and Hilda and I were still children and our parents were out of
twon for health reasons, Doctor Schanddler’s father Dave Schandler, would invite us over to his
house for meals, especially on Passover and other religious holy days.
About this time when our house at 213 Broadway was being built, I was sliding down a
sloping board and got a big splinter in my rear end. My father couldn’t get it out so he took me
to Dr. Mann, the dentist, and he got it out --- no charge.
In 1936, the movements in founding a Jewish Community Center and to organize
Federated Jewish Charities in Asheville was started by Julius Levitch through B’Nai B’Rith. In
1947 a testimonial dinner was held for his outstanding service to the Jewish Community.
In 1944, Sergeant Joe, the mess sergeant in my outfit in the 13th Air Force located in the
South Pacific during World War II, received a shipment of canned corn. Instead of using it for
chow, he built a still in a fox hole and made corn whiskey out of it. Joe ran a road house in
Greenville, South Carolina before the war and in a neighborly spirit he invited me to drink what I
wanted of the corn whiskey and he helped me trade watch bands for coca-cola syrup and ice
cream from a Navy C.B. outfit located near by.
After the war, he operated his road house in Greenville again. He came to see me and
advised that they had arrested his partner for hauling whiskey in Buncombe County and wanted
to know if I could help him. I told him that I knew the Chief of Police and Sheriff Brown and I
would be glad to see what the situation was. He told me they couldn’t help as it was the Federal
Authorities that arrested his partner. . Thinking of how to get him a light sentence I asked Joe if
his partner was in the armed forces and he said that they had turned him down because he has a
heart murmur. I told Joe to send him to Dr. Feldman and I’d get the report from him as to his
heart murmur. Dr. Feldman told me he had a heart murmur and as Federal Physician he would
�advise Judge Warlick about in Federal court. At the trial Joe’s prtner went Scott Free. Later he
came to see me with a roll of hundred dollar bills and wanted to pay me for getting him off. I
refused the money and told him that Joe had helped me out during the war an d what I did was a
favor to Joe. Later he brought me six fifths of Scotch for a present, which I kept.
While overseas besides having corn whiskey made by Joe and medical alcohol diluted
50% by water and flavored with burnt sugar, we were able to buy bonded whiskey from the
flying personnel who didn’t drink their ration. Price was $60 per fifth. They were looking for
souvenirs so I wrote Nat Friedman to send me a Japanese hare-kari knife from his antique store.
He sent me a similar one. It was a circular shape Turkish knife with Turkish letters on it. My
cost was $4. It looked like a Hare-Kari knife. I gave it to Sergeant Joe and asked him to see if he
could trade for a Fifth of bonded whiskey. He reported later that he got two fifths for it.
I had the honor of serving as president of Beth-Ha-Temphila in 1948 and 1949 during the
building and financing of the new temple at Liberty and Broad Streets.
I was Master of Ceremonies for th e50th Anniversary Banquet program of Beth-HaTehphila in 1941.
I also presided at the 75th Anniversary Banquet in 1966.
I have put in my application to preside at the 100th in 1991.
Unless we are Indians, our ancestors came from Foreign Lands. I am thankful they did
what they did so that I could have the privilege of growing up in a city like Asheville, enjoy this
great country of ours---a land of religious freedom and opportunity.
�
Dublin Core
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Title
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Leo Finkelstein Papers
Description
An account of the resource
This collection contains materials relating to Leo Finkelstein, resident of Asheville, North Carolina, the Asheville Lions Club, and the Beth Ha-Tephila Cemetery in Asheville. It contains computer discs, notes, scrapbooks, book drafts, correspondence, photographs, programs, fliers, and other materials related Leo Finkelstein, his wife Sylvia, and the Lions Club, Elks Club, and Jewish Community in Asheville, North Carolina.
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Leo Finkelstein: Personal History and Asheville Jewish Community History
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1997-09-14
Language
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English
Identifier
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107_01_Fam
Subject
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Finkelstein, Leo, 1905-1998--Family
Jews--North Carolina--Asheville--History
Asheville (N.C.)--Anecdotes
Description
An account of the resource
Finkelstein describes his family's past, beginning in 1799 in Lithuania and ending with his life in Asheville, North Carolina, as well as some of the history of the Jewish community in Asheville.
Rights
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<a title=" In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable" href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-RUU/1.0//" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> In Copyright - Rights-holder(s) Unlocatable or Unidentifiable </a>
Format
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PDF
Source
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<a title="AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://appstate-speccoll.lyrasistechnology.org/repositories/2/resources/192" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> AC.107 Leo Finkelstein Papers </a>
Is Part Of
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<a title=" Leo Finkelstein Papers" href="https://omeka.library.appstate.edu/collections/show/27" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Leo Finkelstein Papers </a>
Type
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Text
Extent
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10 pages
Spatial Coverage
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https://www.geonames.org/4453066/asheville.html
America
ancestors
Asheville
autobiography
Depression
Flanders
goyim
Jews
Leo Finkelstein
Lithuania
pawn shop
Pisgah
Prohibition
World War II