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Guns, Democracy and the American Way

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Vintage Illustration 1956 Monument to American Freedom

For many Americans a gun represents the heart of our nation’s foundation and identity and symbol of their freedom and democracy but on this cold war creed of American rights, gun ownership was noticeably absent.

 

What you may ask, is more fundamental to the American Way of Life than a gun? Who could argue that gleaming AK 47 automatic rifle is a shining and powerful example of our basic rights which protect the dignity and freedom of the individual?

In fact, most would agree the right to keep and bear arms is written in stone.

Or is it?

A cold war Credo of the “American Way of Life”  that highlighted all the freedoms and rights unique to democracy didn’t deem it necessary to include gun ownership in their patriot doctrine.

This full-page color illustration that ran in Family Circle Magazine in 1956 was the visual embodiment of this Credo of democracy. In the painting set in a symbolic location that depicts George Washington and his men at Valley Forge, the Credo is emblazoned on a stone monument as though the articles had been carved on twin stones resembling the tablets of Moses.

The American Way Of Life

The creed, a summary of basic freedoms intended to distill the essence of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence was formed by a group with the hope of building greater awareness of the value of the American Way of Life and improving the understanding of the American Constitution and Bill of Rights at a time when they felt Americans took their freedom for granted.

Curiously enough this Credo with nary a mention of the right to bear arms was not produced by some left leaning liberal group bit by an ultra-conservative organization called the Freedom Foundation.

Freedom Foundation

Formed in 1949 this pro-American, patriotic group could boast a roster of illustrious founders. Hoping to continuously sell the American system to the people during the Cold War, the Credo was cooked up by ad man Don Belding, financier E.F. Hutton with major support from Dwight Eisenhower. As a bulwark against Communism the Credo would help promote responsible citizenship, character, and freedom. And Capitalism.

Each article of the Credo was brief and easy to understand; some were obviously drawn from the Bill of Rights (like “Right to free speech and press” and “Right to assemble”), while others had an economic bent (like “Right to bargain with our employers”).

The words of the Credo  “have been sifted, revised and approved by many great statesmen, industrialists’ jurists and historians,” and has “has been endorsed by over 200 chief and associate justices of state supreme courts.”

Yet it is noteworthy the second amendment which has today taken center stage in our national dialogue was not even worth mentioning in this credo.

Mainstream America

Far from a fringe group the Freedom Foundation gained national media attention distributing more than a quarter billion copies of the Credo by the mid 1950’s.

The Credo was reproduced on magazine covers and for decades celebrities like John Wayne and Bob Hope joined the star-spangled wagon train promoting the foundation’s Americanism on radio and TV spots.

Vintage Cover Family Circle Magazine March 1956

In the cold war climate of 1956 it’s not surprising that Family Circle was proud to devote ten pages to the Freedom Foundation Credo and its patriotic principles.

Own a Piece Of Democracy

The monument was still an artist’s rendering and the Foundation was eagerly looking for donations to build its monument in Valley Forge.

A full color enlargement of the Credo illustration by artist Isa Barnett was offered to the reader for the first time ever, and would be “a perfect addition for your home, school, office church or club.”

Democracy in Five Easy Pieces

“The Credo, the accompanying article explained “brings together a series of short, simple, easily understood propositions derived from our great heritage of citizens’ rights and freedoms. All of the Credo rights fall into easily remembered groups, under five headings.

“Here and on the following pages are pictures that capture the essence of our rights as free men- rights that are not common in the world of 1956, although we who enjoy democracy may take them for granted.”

At a time when it seems the Trump presidency has accelerated the decline in democracy, it is worth reviewing our cherished rights.

Protection

Article Freedom Foundation Credo Statements American Rights March 1956 Family Circle magazine

Rights of Protection – Right to Petition for Grievances; Right of habeas corpus-no excessive bail; Right to trial by jury-innocent till proven guilty

“Our democratic form of government protects our individual rights by giving specific courses of action to invoke when necessary.

“General of the Army Omar Bradley says: “I feel that a monument to freedom…will stand as an American symbol of our pledge to the world that we will eternally serve in this cause…The Freedom Shrine project will place upon imperishable stone – for all to see –the mighty concepts of freedom and liberty which mark the American way of life.

Freedom Foundation – in sponsoring this project-is giving a symbol to the world of the most powerful weapon in this global fight against tyranny – a monument to the principles of freedom… In addition to serving as the arsenal of democracy, we must remember that we are also regarded as the arsenal of hope.

Sadly today we have relinquished our roles as beacons of democracy. America’s global reputation for personal freedom has taken a beating as has our prestige. Trump and his minions  have quietly been dismantling our protections we have fought for since FDR’s New Deal.

Government

Article Freedom Foundation Credo Statements American Rights March 1956 Family Circle magazine

Govrnment- Right to free elections and personal secret ballot; Right to the service of government as a protector and a referee; Right to freedom from arbitrary government regulation and control.

“To secure our personal rights, our identity, we must establish and participate in the kind of government that guarantees our rights to us.

Shown here are some of the many ways all of us enjoy our rights of self-government. The Freedom Shrine will restate these rights in simple terms to remind Americans of fundamental principles

President Dwight Eisenhower, on contributing the first dime to the Freedom Shrine said: “ Thus we will show the world our nations fundamental belief in God, our constitutional government  designed to serve  and not to rule the America people, and our indivisible bundle of personal, political and economic rights…

Identity

Article Freedom Foundation Credo Statements American Rights March 1956 Family Circle magazine

Identity- Right to Worship God in one’s own way; Right to free speech and press; Right to move about freely at home and abroad; Right to Assemble

Those personal rights that allow individuals to establish the identity that is unique in every human being.

 

Ownership

Article Freedom Foundation Credo Statements American Rights March 1956 Family Circle magazine

Ownership- Right to privacy in our homes; Right to contract about our affairs; Right to own private property

 

“Grouped here are the Credo rights that entitle us to have property and enjoy full ownership of it- our homes, fields, businesses and all the other possessions that help make life comfortable and secure.

Property has always been dear to men because it is a bulwark against distress for them and their loved ones.

We have only to look at countries where these rights are not enjoyed and compare our conditions with that of the deprived, to rededicate ourselves to preserving our bundle of freedoms – of which these three give us such rich benefits

Enterprise

Article Freedom Foundation Credo Statements American Rights March 1956 Family Circle magazine

Enterprise- Right to work in callings and localities of our choice; Right to bargain for goods and services in a free market; Right to go into business, compete, make a profit; Right to bargain with our employers and employees

“As citizens of democracy we are privileged to express our individuality through creative work and to enjoy its satisfactions. Because our form of government encourages individual initiative and imagination we enjoy full freedom to translate our work into enterprise.

Pictured here are Americans enjoying their precious rights that relate to enterprise: rights we must remind ourselves, that disappear under a totalitarian regime.”

“As citizens of democracy we are privileged to express our individuality through creative work and to enjoy its satisfactions. Because our form of government encourages individual initiative and imagination we enjoy full freedom to translate our work into enterprise.

Pictured here are Americans enjoying their precious rights that relate to enterprise: rights we must remind ourselves, that disappear under a totalitarian regime.”

 

Democracy Now

Those words directed against the fear of cold war totalitarianism, ring just as eerily familiar today.

The Credo was formed with the fear that the freedom of America’s citizens was gravely at risk, not only from the threat of communism but because Americans took their freedom for granted.

Today while the spot light on gun rights as an attack on our freedom seems to outshine all other rights, many of our basic rights are already being infringed on.

The foundation on which the monument stood was the words “Constitutional Government designed to Serve the People.”

If our democracy is slowly eroding, we must pay attention to who is being served .

Copyright (©) 20018 Sally Edelstein Envisioning the American Dream All Rights Reserved

 


Royal Baby Watch- It’s A Boy!

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Prince Charles and Princess Dianna Paper Doll Book

The royal baby watch is over.

Twitter has exploded with the news that the Duchess of Cambridge, Kate Middleton has just given birth to a baby boy and Prince George and Princess Charlotte have a new brother.

Journalists and photographers from around the globe have been camped out in front of St Marys Hospital in Paddington, West London for some time. It’s the very same private hospital where third time papa Prince William was born.

Long before the newest Royal was born, the souvenir market has been cashing in.For months commemorative memorabilia has gone into production for Baby Cambridge, flooding UK shops.

It’s déjà vu all over again.

Prince William

Prince William as a baby 1982

Prince William as a baby 1982

The last time the world went on a rabid royal baby watch was 36 years ago in June of 1982 when Princess Diana and Prince Charles welcomed the birth of Prince William.

Even without twitter, instagram and facebook, it was a veritable circus with reporters photographers, and well wishers staked outside the hospital, while stores were stacked with commemorative booties, blankets and biscuits

Just as today, the wave of royal baby fever spread across the pond to the US and the anticipation was palpable. The buzz was as frenzied over Diana’s first baby as it is over Kate Middletons as office pools speculated whether baby would be a boy or a girl.

For a brief moment in the late spring of 1982, Reagan era Americans forgot about Thriller, ET and the rising cost of gas (a whopping 91 cents a gallon) and got caught up in a real life fairy tale happening overseas.

Royalty Prince Charles Princess Diana Paperdoll dolls

“Chuck & Di Have a Baby” Paper Doll Book 1982 by John Boswell, Patty Brown and Will Elder
Cut out dolls of Prince Charles and Princess Diana to dress up (R) When the book was published the sex of the baby was unknown, so baby Wales is safely dressed in yellow

American fans of that golden couple, Prince Charles and Princess Diana could have fun browsing through the commemorative memorabilia.

For the millions who couldn’t get enough of this 20th century fairy tale there appeared a paper-doll book   cheekily called “Chuck & Di Have a Baby” by John Boswell Patty Brown and Will Elder. Published by Simon and Schuster right before the actual birth of the Duke of Cambridge in 1982, it featured cut-outs of Charles and Diana and the anxiously awaited Royal Baby.

Royalty paperdoll cutuouts Charles and Diana

“Chuck & Di Have a Baby” Paper Doll Book 1982 by John Boswell, Patty Brown and Will Elder
Outfits for Charles and shy Di’s early dates.

Royalty Charles and Diana paperdoll illustrations wedding

“Chuck & Di Have a Baby” Paper Doll Book 1982 by John Boswell, Patty Brown and Will Elder
Dress up for the engagement announcement and the Big Wedding

We were still aglow from the fairy tale wedding of the century that had taken place the previous July. Charles was still Prince Charming, his beautiful shy Princess was still smitten with him; any whiff of scandal lay far into the future.

Less than a year later, The Princess of Wales was pregnant and like most modern couples, Prince Charles and his wife took natural childbirth classes.

Preggers!

The media baby watch had reached fever pitch and at one time Diana was even photographed on the beach in a bikini. It got too much for Diana she asked her doctor to induce labor choosing a date that would not conflict with the Prince of Wales busy polo schedule.

On the early hours of June 21 she and Prince Charles headed to St Marys Hospital in London’s Paddington area. This most thoroughly modern  baby would be the first British heir to the throne to be born in a hospital.

Diana had overruled the Queen who wanted to follow tradition and have the future monarch birth take place within palace walls.. The birth would take place in a 12 by 12 foot $218 a day room in the Lindo Wing of London’s St Marys Hospital.

Like a good Prince, Charles was at his wife’s side throughout the delivery. making it the first time a British heir to the throne had witnessed his own child’s birth.

Royalty Chuck Di paperdoll nursery illustration

“Chuck & Di Have a Baby” Paper Doll Book 1982 by John Boswell, Patty Brown and Will Elder
The royal baby nursery background where visitors can be placed

By contrast his own father, Prince Philip had been playing squash with an equerry while Charles was being born.

Crowds gathered outside the hospital and were overjoyed when a boy weighing 7 pounds 1.5 ounces arrived at 9:03 “crying lustily.”

In lieu of social media, a hand lettered cardboard sign was posted on the hospital gates : “It’s a Boy.” Church bells pealed, cannons boomed and throughout the kingdom toasts were made welcoming the future king.

Royalty illustrations Queen Elizabeth, margaret Thatcher, Prince Philip

Visitors to the Royal Nursery included notables such as his royal grandparents Queen Elizabeth, The Duke of Edinburgh, romance novelist Barbara Cartland, Diana’s grandmother, Williams Aunt Princess Anne( with horse) and of course Mrs. Margaret Thatcher. When the Queen visited the baby she was quoted as saying “Thank goodness he doesn’t have ears like his fathers.”
The day after Williams birth, 1800 gifts had arrived at Buckingham Palace to fill his nursery

Outside Buckingham Palace a crier in full regalia rang a bell as he shouted the news of the Princes arrival. A crowd that had gathered outside the hospital burst into renditions of “For He’s a Jolly Good fellow” and “Rule Britannia”

Only 22 hours after the difficult birth Diana walked out of the hospital with a proud papa Charles who cradled Baby Wales in a lace shawl. As he left  Charles greeted fans saying”I’m obviously relieved and delighted…It’s rather a grown up thing I find-it’s rather a shock to the system (the baby) looks marvelous- fair sort of blondish…he’s not bad.”

"Chuck & Di Have a Baby" Paper Doll Book illustrations

“Chuck & Di Have a Baby” Paper Doll Book 1982 by John Boswell, Patty Brown and Will Elder
A Royal Christening (R) Unisex Outfits for the royal baby

To the cheers of the throng they paused for photographs and sped off for their new home. Only 5 weeks earlier the couple had moved from their cold, impersonal rooms at Buckingham palace into spacious new quarters at Kensington Palace.

The first full week of his life the infant was simply known as “Baby Wales” When finally speculation on the baby’s name ended when the palace announced that he would be named William Arthur Philip Louis.

Chuck & Di Have a Baby" Paper Doll Book illustration crown royal

“Chuck & Di Have a Baby” Paper Doll Book 1982 by John Boswell, Patty Brown and Will Elder
Sadly, the book closes looking forward to a future King Charles and Queen Diana that was not meant to be. Perhaps the royal robes will fit William and Kate

 

Memories Coming Out of Mothballs

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Vintage fashion and vintage No Moth solid metal canister

For some, the sweet perfume of lilacs drifting through open screened windows evoke spring. For me springtime can be conjured up with the toxic smell of mothballs.

These past many months as I have been sadly consumed with closing down my childhood home of 63 years, sorting and sifting through the detritus of mine and my  parents lives, the lingering smell of mothballs past has become my own personal Proustian madeleine.

I Love the Smell of Naphthalene in the Morning…

Vintage Moth crystal metal canisters

By the time of the first tulips sprouting from the soil, white crystalline mothballs would appear like magic dotting the interior landscape of my home as my mother launched her garment battle plan for the Great Spring Migration of shifting seasonal clothes to their appropriate closets.

Gathering great heaps of clothing from countless dresser drawers, cabinets and closets Mom would begin the annual seasonal schlepping of apparel from one location in the house to another.

Vintage Fashion 1950s

Winter woolens were susceptible to the ravages of moths. Vintage Fashion pages from 1958 catalogue

This was all done as part of the mid-century-housewife – approved preparedness program against the onslaught of vicious perpetrators out to destroy the family wardrobe.

Winter woolens would survive…if you prepared. By late spring insatiable moths were on the prowl greedily licking their lips in anticipation of feasting on your cashmeres, woolens, and tweeds.

Separate But Equal

Unlike in my own current clothes closet that is a “closet for all seasons,” mid-century clothing hewed to strict rules and exacting locations in my parents’ house.

The recent Brown vs. Board of education ruling regarding separate but equal was disregarded when it came to apparel. God forbid a summertime Liberty of London cotton floral skirt would co mingle with a Pringle cashmere sweater set in the very same closet at the very same time.

Not in my mother’s house.

With military precision, summer’s white shoes and handbags were taken out of storage and the march of the winter woolens would begin their descent into the bowels of the damp basement for captivity in our cellar clothes closet.

Cold War Cold Storage

Basement Fallout Shelter Life Magazine Sept. 15, 1961

Basement Fallout Shelter Life Magazine Sept. 15, 1961

As the cold war was heating up at the dawn of the 1960’s I pleaded with my parents the practicality of building a fallout shelter in our basement. To my eternal disappointment, a large clothes closet was built in its stead, the safety of a scratchy Woolrich woolen sweater from ravenous moths clearly more valuable than my own from a nuclear holocaust.

Mom Bugs Out

1930's Housewives speaking

While others stayed up at night worrying about a Russian attack my mother was a bundle of nerves when it came to bugs.

Spring was opening of the offensive against insects who as scientists were telling us “are the real foes and future nemesis of man.” Insects were the bane of Moms existence…pesky flies that contaminated food and brought filth into the house, legions of ants tracking who knows what onto her Clorox clean counters.

But it was the destruction and cruelty of moths and their larvae that could decimate an entire family’s winter wardrobe in the dark of night that sent shivers down her spine.  Hungry moths thrived and grew bloated on your Fair Isle sweater or fur collared princess coat. Blankets and draperies didn’t fare any better

Like any smart housewife, Mom knew she had only herself to blame for the holes in Dad’s worsted wool suit and took protection of the family household seriously.

Containment Policy

vintage illustration housewife holding plastic garment bags

First line of defense in her campaign was the containment of the garments.

Containment policy was not just a cold war policy but the rule of thumb for clothing too. Once in lock down the clothes were hermetically sealed in large plastic hanging quilted garment bags of celadon green and pink.

But containment alone was not sufficient deterrent for these sneaky plotters. You needed the annihilating  power of mothballs.

Type fo rMoth Proofing ad 1950

Luckily science had come to m’ lady’s rescue with a powerful offensive – a lethal insect and pest repellent guaranteed to save a family’s precious wardrobe.

No longer did the lady of the house have to rely on old fashioned cedar chests in the war against bugs. No more checking for seams and folds for larvae and eggs. The deadly combination of Naphthalene and para dichlorobenzene which vaporize at room temperature packed a one two punch with the toxic fumes killing clothes moths, their eggs and larvae.

Smelling like camphor, these powerful chemicals designed to kill moths were conveniently sold in solid form such as moth balls, flakes, cakes and crystals.

Naphthalene is highly flammable and  para dichlorobenzene is now a known carcinogen. “You could trust it,” the ads promised, “to protect your blankets, draperies, and clothes.”

You just couldn’t trust it with your health.

Vintage Fashion ads women 1950s and Moth Vaporizer

Blissfully unaware, for decades Mom littered the basement closet floor with moth balls and little orange “No Moth” tin canisters  hung merrily from the ceiling like Xmas stockings.  Those pesky insects didn’t stand a chance.

All The Proof You Need

Vintage Ad Larvex 1950

As a young bride Mom swore by Larvex which was a moth proofing product sprayed directly on the clothes themselves and was a favorite with modern housewives. Moths, the ads claimed would rather starve to death than ingest the toxin.

Completely odorless and stainless the chemical spraying lasted a year. The results were equally as long lasting on humans.

Vintage Ad for DDT Insect Spary and Larvex Moth Proofing

Guaranteed as safe as DDT, the active ingredient in Larvex was Diethyl Diphenyl Dichloroethane.  DDD is closely related chemically and is similar in properties to DDT which was eventually found to be a human carcinogen.

The product left a long lasting residual toxicity that starved the moths and continued to kill for a full year. For people, the effects could be felt decades later with respiratory problems and cancer.

Take No Chances- Di Chloricide

Vintage Ad 1950 Di-chloricide Moth Crystals

A favorite crystal form of the insecticide from Mom’s youth and still very popular when she ran a home of her own was Di chloricide. Made by pharmaceutical giant Merck, it not only killed moths but prevented mold and mildew. For a damp basement like ours it was a blessing.

Di Chloricide was a boon to housewives like my grandmother in the late 1930’s when it first appeared. Nana Sadie could be free from worry over moth damage when she put away her winter clothes. In the top of each garment bag my grandmother placed a small cheesecloth bag filled with Di chloricide crystals (the cheesecloth bag came with every can) and she could rest assure her garments would be safe until she needed them.

M’lady apparently didn’t need to know the harmful ingredients.

Vintage ad Di-chloricide 1935

It’s the modern way to protect your clothes- and it doesn’t leave a “moth ball odor.” The carcinogens acted odorlessly . Vintage ad Di-chloricide 1935

My grandmother was impressed as the product came with a ringing endorsement not only from the head housekeeper at the Waldorf Astoria but with the seal of approval from smart Fifth Avenue furriers.

Yes Di chloricide is death to moths, but it’s very easy and pleasant to use,” the copy reads in this 1935 ad. Di chloricide crystals give off a penetrating vapor that kills flying moth and moth worms. Just sprinkle among the garments in your trunk the vapor works through all the folds, seams, and linings.”

The vapors also worked thru the lining of your throat and esophagus.

The active ingredient Dichlorobenzene is a carcinogen that affects the respiratory system and breathing and repeated exposure can damage nervous system, cause trembling, and damage lungs, liver, and kidneys.

“Ask your druggist for Di chloricide today,” the ad implored the reader.

You’ll be seeing him years later for all the health problems you might develop.

 

Post Script – Moth Proof Memories

Vintage fashionsd and mothproofing

As the years went on the basement clothes closet was not sufficient to contain all my parents’ clothes, which is perplexing given that neither of my parents were clothes horses.

My parents had clothes literally hanging from the basement rafters, garment bags hanging on steel beams and any horizontal support,  bulging with clothes from seasons and years past precariously dangling from old copper pipes on the precipice of bursting.

Growing up when there were two growing children living in the house, clothes seemed to be well contained in their owners appropriate closets, but once my brother and I moved out, it was a clothes lollapalooza as my parents attire encroached on our now empty closets and ran amuck in the basement.

In full transparency, some of these garment bags hanging from rafters contained my clothes from the 1970’ through the 1980’s when I lived in smaller apartments and thus never enough close space.

I deposited my clothes in suburbia and never looked back. Until now.

can of Di Chloricide moth proof and confusion

Now it is a tangle of hot pants and Huck-a-Poo shirts, wrap dresses from Dianne Von Furstenberg and lace punk dresses from Betsy Johnson. They would reside there out of sight and out of mind for the far off day when I would eventually retrieve them.

That day has come as I am emptying out the house. The residual smell of mothballs still permeate the basement. Like the memories it brings up,  the toxic vapors stay with me long after I have left. So does the wheezing cough I have after every visit.

Along with the tears.

Copyright (©) 20018 Sally Edelstein Envisioning the American Dream All Rights Reserved

Remembering Bobby Kennedy Fifty Years Later

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Vintage Photo of RFK childhood campaigners and RFK campaign brochure

The ardent passion of my fledging politics in the upheaval of that epoch year 1968. (L) Politics in the suburbs- the author and her friend Karen Levine holding a home-made poster for Robert Kennedy for President R) Campaign brochure for Kennedy for President

1968 was no ordinary time and Robert Kennedy was no ordinary candidate. Fifty years later, the wave of young activists feel similar to that infamous year when Bobby had fired up Americas youth.

Including a barely teen age me.

drawing of Robert Kennedy by Sally Edelstein

“I Wanna Be Bobby’s Girl” A 1968 portrait of Bobby Kennedy by an infatuated 12-year-old idealist – me.

I never met Robert Kennedy but I was always grateful that not only did I get a chance to volunteer on his campaign, but I was able to bid Bobby a final goodbye.

On a sweltering Friday in June of 1968, I joined the hundreds of thousands who lined up outside St, Patrick’s Cathedral in N.Y.C to pay their final respects to their fallen hero.

Americans were in a state of disbelief.

John kennedy and Robert Kennedy painting

Pop culture would quickly immortalize the 2 slain Kennedy brothers. 1968 Poster

It could not happen again – yet there it was. With terrible symmetry an assassin had struck down Robert Kennedy in a moment of triumph, dying early in the morning of June 5th and once again a nation was left to watch and grieve and wonder.

The awful drama that had played out on TV the past few days had left us all, young and old, feeling lost and helpless.

Kennedy Robert campaign worker mourns 1968

A worker at Kennedy campaign headquarters in NYC was overcome with grief. 1968

Still reeling from the horror of the King assassination a mere two months earlier, few will ever forget the shock of that night in June and what it would mean. RFK was a man who spoke to so many people in so many different ways. After that terrible night of June 4th when Robert Kennedy was assassinated – all the hopes and dreams ended on the floor of a hotel kitchen in Los Angeles.

For four full days until his body was lowered to its grave on the green slopes of Arlington near his brother John, the television screens glowed through almost every waking hour, not unlike those four days in November 1963.

The Kennedy family had flown his body from California to N.Y. where he would lay in state at St. Patrick’s Cathedral giving the public an opportunity to pay their respects on Friday.

Like millions of others engulfed by the drama of those past few days, I needed to touch the event myself, to establish even the smallest piece of it,  to see it and believe it and lock it in personal recollection. A half hour train ride to Manhattan from my suburban home was all that was necessary.

As a 13-year-old who had volunteered my afternoons working on Kennedy’s Campaign for President it seemed essential.

These Are Not Ordinary Times

Kennedy Campaign literature 1968

Kennedy spoke to the youth of America and explained why their help was vital. “Young Americans made this years election a test of faith. They have taken the deepest beliefs of our country at face value: individual freedom, commitment to social justice, willingness to examine old ideas, and choose new ones. This faith and energy behind it has turned this election into a confrontation of issues and ideas. Robert Kennedy shares that faith and that energy.” Kennedy campaign literature 1968

In the tumultuous spring of 1968, Bobby Kennedy beckoned the youth of America to join him in his presidential fight.

Mobilized and energized with the earnestness of a teenager I responded.

 

Kennedy Robert McCarthy 1968 Campaign Posters

Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy whose anti-war campaign attracted thousands of “Get Clean With Gene” young people to New Hampshire and NY Senator Robert Kennedy who after entering the race late brought together Blacks and working class. Democratic Presidential hopefuls Campaign posters 1968

Sure there were those who liked “Clean Gene” who spoke to the college kids with his single issue of anti-war.

But Bobby was about the hope.

Cover Sat. Evening Post 1968 Robert kennedy campaigning

“How Bobby Plans to Win” June 1, 1968 Saturday Evening Post Cover “If we come out roaring in California, nothing will stop us in Chicago.”

RFK had a sense of outrage and he spoke from his gut. He seemed to care about the outsider traveling to the Mississippi Delta where African-Americans were literally going hungry, to Eastern Kentucky where people had been without jobs for years and to the migrant labor camps in California.

He would heal a divided nation.

Campaign Volunteer

collage Kennedy Campaign posters

A vintage Kennedy Collage of campaign paraphernalia by the author from 1968

Every day after school that spring, my best friend Karen and I rode our Schwinn bicycles to the local Robert Kennedy for President headquarters where we volunteered.

handmade poster RFK for President 1968

A hand-made poster from 1968, one of several that I posted around the neighborhood. “Vote Right” did not carry the same connotation it carries today. By the way, my graphics may have improved in the following years, but my spelling, not so much.

Located in an abandoned suburban storefront, I would spend my afternoons and weekends stuffing envelopes making phone calls and doing whatever grunt work was needed to help ensure that Bobby would be the 1968 Democratic candidate.

A flyer asking for volunteers for RFK. Tragically the meeting to explain the canvassing was called for June 4th the day he would be assassinated.

 

Kennedy Robert Calif Ambassador Hotel 1968

As Robert Kennedy and his wife Ethel learned that he had won the Calif. primary their expressions were jubilant. The crowds at the Ambassador Hotel cheered his victory ecstatically. Moments later tragedy struck.

After a triumphant win in California ensuring his nomination in Chicago, tragedy struck and the dream vanished.

Friday-A Day Of Mourning

Kennedy Funeral Card

Robert Kennedy Funeral Card 1968

Long before my mother and I boarded the Long Island Railroad that Friday morning, the lines of mourners had already begun forming. By early morning when the St. Patrick’s Cathedral doors swung open, the line of mourners was already swelling to well over a hundred thousand waiting in the early morning humidity.

Simmering in the June heat, the crowded city streets were bustling with commerce as Mom and I made our way uptown to St Patrick’s from Penn Station.

New York, New York

I loved Manhattan with the noise and grime and glitz and especially the kaleidoscope of people.

Swinging down crowded Madison Avenue lined with skyscrapers and smart shops, girls rushed to their glitzy secretarial job to fetch coffee and type 60 words a minute on their IBM electric typewriters.

Liberated career girls on-the-go in-the-know-letting their now young looks show, with frosted pink lips and frosted hair, dressed in Bobbie Brooks groovy go togethers they were taking dictation by day, yeah yeah yeah, making the scene by night frugging the night away at their favorite discotheque.

Madison Avenue mod fashionistas glided like gazelles sporting their -Vidal Sasoon’s hard-edged geometry hairdos on their way to Conde Nast.

The real Mad Men of Madison Avenue fresh off the 7:37 from Greenwich were sprinting from Grand Central in giant strides , wrinkle free and fresh in their summer weight Dacron suits to make their 9:00 meetings

By the time Mom and I arrived at St Patricks, the lines were strung out over 6 and 8 and 10 abreast over 25 blocks of mid-town Manhattan forming a vast chain of sadness.

The crush of people was overwhelming.

Robert Kennedy Campaign poster 1968

Kennedy For President Poster 1968

The vibrance of the crowd belied the sorrow that loomed over us all. It was a crazy crush of color happy Celanese separates, vibrant in sun corals, refreshing in turquoise and electric in jubilee orange.

The sun was baking down and the crowds were wilting from the 90 degree heat but their no wilt, wrinkle-free clothes looked as  fresh as the zingy floral prints, popping polka dots and pastel paisleys that decorated them.

Making the Scene

Kennedy Mourners memorial

(L) In the heat, some of the 150,000 mourners were offered water while waiting their turn to view RFK’s casket at St Patrick’s Photo: Life Magazine Special Edition The Kennedy’s 1968 (R) Robert Kennedy Memorial Issue M.F. Enterprise 1968

Out of some deep sorrowing patience they stood all day in a wilting sun and through a stifling night – an amalgam of populace from all walks of life.

Heartbroken housewives from Bayridge Brooklyn, a gaggle of amber waves of trouble-free Toni home permanents that had not unfurled in the humidity stood side by side with Park Avenue doyens fresh from their standing Friday hair appointment at Kenneth’s, that flawlessly tailored pet of the set who flocked  to his posh paisley swathed town house at 19 East 54th Street.

Ladies who lunched,  their red-rimmed sorrowful  eyes hidden behind their Foster Grants who stopped by after a quick run through at Saks Fifth Avenue, shared space with teens with ravaged faces splotched with skin colored Clearasil, teens with angry sunburns gotten the weekend before on Memorial Day, teens, who like me had taken the day off from school.

Nuns, shrouded in black in their austere habits, their normally stern moral certitude shattered, mindlessly fingered rosary beads, lined up next to weeping girls in mini skirts and Dynel wigs their Maybelline mascara running copiously down their cheeks.

Middle aged men in sporty natty Lido telescope straw hats rubbed elbows with beefy construction workers in hard hats who stood solemnly next to peace kids in tied dye shirt and beads,  hippies in pieced together outfits from second-hand stores, attic trunks and funky shops.

Grief stricken ex-GI’s and their Blue Cheer- whiter-than-white families living the second generation of American subdivision dream, stood shoulder to shoulder with Blacks from Bedford Stuyvesant, that God forsaken urban blight of burned out houses, forgotten by all except Robert Kennedy.

Reconciliation and Restoration

Kennedy RFK campaign 1968

Robert Kennedy for President Campaign literature 1968

Hundreds of them came from Bed Sty, leaving  the sour stench that permeated the Myrtle Willoughby IND subway station for the rarefied air of Fifth Avenue. To honor the man who had worked so hard for them.

Some were activists and community leaders  from that beleaguered community second generation victims of urban poverty, now mournfully reminiscing for anyone within earshot, of their brief encounters with Kennedy.

Some  had been there that cold day in February 1966 accompanying RFK in his historic walking tour of Bedford Stuyvesant. Kennedy had seen it all, unvarnished, the  burned out buildings, the brownstones in abject decay, plaster falling from walls,,vacant lots teeming with garbage, the  stripped cars rusting on the streets.

Not Forgotten

Now on line outside St. Patricks, one woman standing next to us resplendent in her Sunday best, wept openly as she recalled to Mom and me  how only last June Senator Kennedy had been in Bed Sty, and she along with several hundred people had crowded into the courtyard of an abandoned milk bottling plant to listen to among others, Senator Kennedy speak.

The purpose of the gathering was the announcement of the Bedford Stuyvesant Restoration Corporation, the nations first community development corporation that would try to regenerate Bed Sty. She would never forget that day or the warm handshake  and sense of hope she received from Senator Kennedy. It was the first bit of hope for Bed Sty in decades.

“It’s hard keeping faith when everything’s going so bad,” she wailed repeatedly.

No, he had not forgotten them. They would never forget him.

Kennedy RFK

(R) Mourners passing the casket of RFK at St Patrick’s Cathedral June 1968 Photos: Life Magazine Special Edition The Kennedy’s 1969

For 6 hours we all stood and waited for a seconds glimpse of the coffin with the white wreath at the feet, the spray of roses at the head, the US Flag and the rosary on the burnished lid.

Some snapped cameras. Some touched the wood and crossed themselves.

Scores came out weeping.

Four hundred fainted. A stout black woman collapsed before the coffin sobbing. “Our friend is gone, oh Jesus he is gone, Jesus, Jesus.”

Kennedy RFK Memorial card

Kennedy RFK Memorial Funeral Card

Members of the family appeared only briefly during the day- Ethel in black kneeling at the coffin and touching the flag, her eldest sons Joseph 15 and Robert Jr. 14 taking their turns in the honor guard, Teddy, pale alone into a fortieth row pew.

It was mostly a day for the Bobby people – the young, the poor, the black, the disenfranchised. It was the day the family gave Robert Kennedy to the public for the last time.

Copyright (©) 2018 Sally Edelstein All Rights Reserved

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Robert Kennedy Remembered   My 1968 scrapbook of  Kennedy clippings campaign memorabilia

Embracing My Roots

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Photo Sally Edelstein 1956 Suburbia

Embracing my suburban roots

I would grow up living my parents post war American dreams.

Nothing personified that dream more than our suburban home where they lived for nearly 62 years. My foundation was entrenched in that home so it should be no surprise then that my interests are rooted in that time and place.

That suburban dream that had sprung up in a field of potatoes was their Promised Land, one that beckoned millions of post war pioneers including my parents.

Now it is time to let go of that house.

photo sally edelstein empty home

Last week I had the sad task of going back to the familiar house on Western Park Drive for the last time to bid farewell as my brother and I have sold the house.

After the closing today, it will belong to someone else.

As I walked from room to room weighted with melancholy I felt the enormous trajectory of my parents entire adult life, and of mine life lived in this house.

The house once bursting with vitality was disconcertingly  quiet that day, say for the symphony of suburban sounds of leaf blowers and lawn mowers, a sound  once reserved for weekend mornings.

Vintage ad suburban couple and suburban house

Seeing the house barren, and bereft of the familiar and meaningful items that made it a home, was at first unnerving. But  I  soon began to see the unadorned, vacant house  as it must have looked to my 28-year-old mother Betty the first time she gazed upon this newly built house and decided to make it her home six decades ago.

For the first time, I saw the house  anew, as an empty canvas with potential for a dream.

Her dream.

August 1955 in our new home.

Now standing in that same place in a different century that late afternoon, entrusted with this somber duty of selling that house and leaving forever,  I felt myself transported back to early 1955 when a 30 something ex GI, and his very pregnant wife,  first looked at this brand new house that would be their home for the rest of their lives.

Though technically I was there that day I was there in vitro, and it was a womb without a view.

I was the second tenant to take up temporary residency in Mom’s cozy uterus ( it was a bit of a fixer upper due to he ear and tear of its original tenant my restless older brother) but my family would be the first occupants to live in this brand new ranch house on a brand new block.

Scanning the empty rooms and bare walls this past Tuesday, I could imagine my mother Betty mentally installing furniture and decorating its rooms. This new house on Western Park Drive that would the beginning of the fulfillment of those post war dreams allowing them to envision the life they would lead with the family they were just beginning.

Suburbia Beckons

suburban developments 1950s

The house hunting process all began because of a bunch of wooden toy building blocks.

By February of 1955 they were the parents of a precocious 2-year-old, my brother Andy, and with a baby due soon, things were too darn cramped in their small apartment in Far Rockaway.

Dad had tripped over my Robert Moses-wanna-be brother Andy’s wooden triangles, square and rectangles one too many times. There wasn’t enough room for building a pretend superhighway and a new baby.

Vintage 1950s cartoon suburbia Ahead

Like thousands of other young married apartment dwellers, they began the arduous task of house hunting. Every weekend they trudged out East to Long Island in their Chevy BelAire, making sure to “Fill ‘er up” at the local Texaco station. But not to worry ‘cause gasoline was the biggest bargain on Americas shopping list even if it had gone up to 29 cents a mile.

The roads were jammed with other young couples seeking the same dream, creating the first real traffic jams they had ever seen. In a few short years there would be great ‘superhighways” of the sort my parents had seen at the GM Futurama exhibit, of auto’s speeding down multi lane, limited access highways. The huge interstate highway system was just starting and would change the driving landscape of  suburbia and America.

My grandmother fretted about a pregnant Betty taking such long car rides. Driving an automobile when my Nana Sadie was pregnant was definitely forbidden, and motoring in general had to be restricted especially on rough roads. But Mom smiled, remarking it was a new age. Settling into the roomy car as my brother jumped around the back seat, she lit a cigarette or two and waited out the traffic jams.

Building Blocks

Vintage illustration family house hunting in suburbia

Criss crossing Nassau County, they’d been to so many new developments, traipsing from house to house; seen so many new models that they were totally confused.

Just as all the houses seemed to look the same so the  other house hunting couples  all seemed to mirror their own experience. Urbanites all, they were remarkably the same age, had fought in the same war, and were just beginning new families.

At last they settled on a town – West Hempstead- because it boasted large shopping centers, a sewer system installed, as well as paved roads, plenty of baseball diamonds for little league, goods schools, and only 40 minutes from the city.

Manifest Destiny

personal photo of sally edelstein suburbia 1950s

My brother in the potato farm in our backyard 1956, still undeveloped. In a few years it would be filled with split levels.

My father Marvin got out of the car and stood on the little patch of newly seeded lawn in front of the model ranch style house sitting on a dusty plot of land broken into parceled lots that would be built into a paved street. The land which only a year or two ago belonged to Gutsky farm still had a stray chicken or two roaming around the lots.

The street would be called Western Park Drive, the name evoking the pioneer spirit they both felt. It was, Mom determined, an omen.

This new suburbia would be their own Disneyland, a combination of Frontierland and Tomorrowland.

vintage Blueprint for suburban home 1955

Blueprint to the parcel of land that would be our new home. 1955

Stepping inside the model home, Betty closed the front door behind her, and stood in the foyer looking around the spacious, sunny living room with the requisite large picture window. With her hands clasped, face radiant she whispered to Marvin: “It’s perfect. It’s different from any other house we’ve seen.”  Dad smiled. He knew that eventually when all the houses were built one could walk 2 houses down and see another just like it. And 2 after that…

But she didn’t see a development, she saw a dream.

personal family photo 1950s family

1957 Suburban family

Betty walked from room to room, envisioning the life they would lead, the dinner parties she would host, the holidays they would celebrate,  marveling at the carefree-new-as-tomorrow kitchen she had yearned for. Choosing the appropriate color schemes from the sparkling array of new color appliances for the kitchen would be frustrating. Should she go for prelude pink or tempo turquoise?

Pausing in the coziest, sunniest one of the 3 bedrooms, she lingered, imagining how perfect it would be for her- hoping-against-hope-please-let-it-be-a-girl new baby.

“It ought to be bright and gay with enchanting sheer pink organza curtains to let in lots of cheery light, a soft plush pink rug underfoot to crawl on, and most importantly, the walls would be covered  entirely with gay pink wallpaper with loads of  playful prancing, kittens and lambs gambling through the room.”

And in fact that is just how it was. Of course in time those prancing kittens and lambs would be replaced by posters of Bobby Sherman and Bobby Kennedy. But that lay far into the future.

Deposit For a New House Vintage document

Receipt for deposit to the new house… $10!

“Only $20,000!” the realtor exclaimed interrupting her reverie. With only a few parcels left, she urged Marvin to leave a $10 deposit securing their legacy in suburbia.

So they bought the house, a sprawling ranch with a sprawling mortgage helped in part by the GI Bill . Betty may have come to buy a house, but she sold Marvin on a dream.

Roots

personal photo Sally Edelstein Shadow on tree

I took this picture as I left for the last time of the large sycamore tree in front of my house that like me began life there as a little spindly sapling and now we are both grown up…literally.

My parents established roots here and dug in, growing deeper and wider through the years. Unlike others, my parents never transplanted elsewhere. While many seniors headed south they dug in, preferring south shore of Long Island. This is where they chose to stay. These were their roots.

These are my roots too and they always will be, no matter who lives there.

Though others will now soon live there my memories will never be uprooted.

My imprint on the house, like the image of the shadow on the tree is there forever.

Post Script

personal photo sally Edelstein

Burying a time capsule at my parents home May 2018

As I prepared to say goodby to my childhood home of 63 years, I knew I needed to leave something of myself behind.

As a lover of history and a self-confessed pop culture junkie, it seemed only right that I bury a metal time capsule filled with photos and artifacts spanning 6 decades, explaining who these first residents were who settled into a brand new ranch house in a suburban development that sprung up out of a potato field in 1955.

Digging in the warming earth, the same soil I dug in as a 5-year-old I planted it deeply next to the foundation, beneath my parents bedroom window.

This seems just right.

personal photo Sally Edelstein 1958 suburbia

Incorporating the pioneer Western spirit, I sported a Davy Crockett shirt 1958 in front of my house on Western Park Drive, where 60 years later I buried mementos

Along with the time capsule there needed synchronicity and I found one that was perfect.

As a child I loved digging in the dirt and was always discovering shards of old pottery which we said was from the Dutch settlers. (more likely farmers from the 1900s) My niece and nephew Jessie and Sam carried on the fascination and we would always go hunting for pieces of pottery excited by the finds and creating stories around them on our weekly Sunday visits. This continued until even a year and a half ago. So it makes sense for me to bury shards of my family’s pottery and China for another generation to discover.

It’s also burying the broken shards of my heart.

Copyright (©) 20018 Sally Edelstein Envisioning the American Dream All Rights Reserved

 

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A Mid Century Send off

 

 

I Married a Refugee

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Vintage photo Displaced Persons germany 1947

After WWII, my future husband and his family of Holocaust survivors lingered in an overcrowded Displaced Persons Camp in Germany waiting for a country that would accept them as politicians and a fear mongering media debated the loyalty of Eastern Europeans and the fear of Communist infiltration. My 2-year-old husband to-be in a DP Camp 1947 photo: family collection

 

I married a refugee who as a little boy was perceived as a threat to Cold War America and not as a survivor of the Holocaust.

While my childhood was a sugar frosted world of frost-free fun living out the post war suburban dream, my husband would spend the first four years of his life in a displaced persons camp, while Congress bickered unwilling to change existing restrictive immigration laws that severely limited the number of Eastern European allowed.

Was he any more of a threat to our country than a Migrant Central American or  Syrian refugee child is today?

Steeped in fear, some Americans have a habit of marking an entire people as predisposed to disloyalty.

Tragically one sits in the oval office today, wielding a mighty presidential pen issuing out executive orders grossly affecting the lives of millions and tarnishing America’s moral authority. His presidential policy is to appeal to his base with racially motivated attacks on immigrants.

When it comes to American paranoia, Donald Trump’s fear based, fear driven policy aimed at the other feels eerily familiar.

A Threat to America

Man expressing fear

Fear mongering media and xenophobic politicians cry out in protest at the possible influx of refugees seeking a safe haven.

Squawking like Chicken Little, they ominously warn of the dire consequences and threat to America if we allow “these tired, these poor, these huddled masses” of refugees ‘yearning to breathe free” into our homeland.

The Other

These particular refugees they assert “are supporters of terrorism, violence and the abrogation of American laws and ideals…they will take over the country and subvert our constitution.”

“Taking in these refugees would be suicide for the US because anti-American terrorists may be disguising themselves as refugees.”

A lawmaker opposing these immigrants claims they are “imbued with political ideologies wholly at variance with our constitutional system!”

Testimony before Congress offered grave warnings that these refugees were “important carriers of the kind of ideological germs with which it is their aim to infect the public opinion of the US.”

Now that certainly sounds like a diagnosis from the good doctor, Ben Carson.

Déjà Vu All Over Again

Communism is this tomorrow panel

“Is this Tomorrow?” A panel from the 1947 anti communist comic book designed to teach people about the subversive nature of communism.

Only the speaker here was not directing his paranoia at the fear of a Muslim terrorist sneaking into the U.S. along with the Syrian refugees or a dangerous MS-13 gang member from fraudulently sneaking in by applying for asylum.

These remarks were uttered over 65 years ago about another group of refugees seeking asylum, East European refugees.

This fear mongering claiming national security that sounds straight out of the Trump racist playbook on Central American refugees, is actually a page from the cold war anti-communist rhetoric directed at the displaced persons of WWII.

The current policy of blocking refugees fleeing a violent homeland desperate to seek a safe haven, mirrors the deep freeze experienced by displaced placed Eastern European Jews  during the cold war whose efforts to get to a safe haven were met by a cold shoulder.

The cold war cast a particularly chilly response to the desperate plight of the displaced person of Europe due to our heightened fear of Communist infiltration.

Thanks to the peddling of irrational fears to a panicked and paranoid public, many post war Americans were resistant to the idea of welcoming these poor souls to our shores.

Displaced Fears

DP Germany image

Displaced Persons in a DP Camp, Germany 1947The conventional wisdom that we immediately opened our shores with outstretched arms to these displaced persons has become a more romanticized version of the truth; the harsh edges of their struggle to enter the land of the free have softened over the past 70 years.

Liberated Jews suffering from illness and exhaustion emerged from concentration camps and hiding places to discover a world which had no place for them.

Well into the post war years, thousands of European Jews remained locked in displaced persons camps in Germany and Austria. Without a home, many were afraid to be repatriated because their countries were now police states under Soviet occupation.

For these ¼ million stateless, homeless Jewish survivors, prospects for resettlement in free democratic lands appeared uncertain.

These huddled masses yearning to be free had nowhere to go.

It is a story that hits close to home.

My future in-laws were Holocaust survivors.

1945 No Where to Go

UJA DP Camps SWScan00614

Strong national prejudices, procrastination in Congress and some less than dynamic leadership in White House combined to prolong the miseries of Jews who survived the Holocaust.

All over Europe after the war ended in May of 1945,  like a great backwash to the tidal wave of war, almost 10,000,000 confused, depleted and hungry human beings were wandering from place to place amidst the rubble of war. Some were newly liberated labor slaves, some concentration camp survivors,  some civilians, some prisoners of war.

Trudging on foot, hitching rides on bicycles,  looted German cars, trucks, and hay wagons this stumbling mass of humanity moved steadily on urged on the idea to get home.

For many there was no longer a home.

Many survivors who went home faced hostility from their neighbors and found their homes, possessions and jobs gone.

These huddled masses yearning to be free had nowhere to go.

It is a story that hits close to home.

My future in-laws were Holocaust survivors.

Displaced Persons

Braving the incertitude among history’s most jumbled mass of migration was a courageous young Jewish woman grown older than her 23 years through the unspeakable horrors that no one should ever bear witness to.

Her entire family lost at the hands of the Nazis, separated from her husband, she trudged on with her meager belongings tightly clutching her most valued possession, her precious newborn baby.

vintage photo Jews in Poland 1937

Lost Family 1937 Photo: family collection

This tiny baby boy, born without a home, who would never know what it was to grow up with grandparents, uncles or aunts would one day grow up to be my future all-American husband.

Polish Jews 1930s. Vintage photo from family collection

Bereft of home and family, tattered photos were the few remaining mementos many had. Polish Jews 1930s. Vintage photo from family collection

Unable to return to her now vanished hometown in Poland, reunited with her husband, they found their way to a displaced persons camp in Germany.

DP camps were made from abandoned German army barracks, factories and even concentration camps. Most of these camps were crowded and unsanitary with shortages of food and clothing

Before the end of 1945, more than 6 million of those uprooted by the war found a home leaving 1.5 to 2 million displaced persons. Most Jewish survivors were unable or unwilling to return home because of persistent anti-Semitism and the destruction of their communities during the Holocaust. Many of those who did return feared for their lives. In postwar Poland, for example, there were a number of violent riots that claimed scores of Jewish lives.

The big question was where to put the people who could not be repatriated?

Give Us Your Tired, Your Poor

Immigration Editorial cartoon

“You’re a Cheap Bunch of Soreheads and You Can’t Land Here,” says a bloated Uncle Sam in cartoonist Art Young’s protest against discriminatory immigration laws. This editorial cartoon appeared in “The Masses” the radical, socialist magazine that attacked the status quo.

Restrictive immigration policies were still in effects in the U.S. and legislation to expedite the admission of Jewish DPs was slow. These constricting immigration policies had at least a partial basis in anti-Semitism and racist theories, thanks to immigration laws passed between 1882 and 1929 that were among the most discriminatory in the world, regulating immigration by race.

Despite loosening of some quota restrictions, by the end of the year opportunities for legal immigration to the United States remained extremely limited.

Congressional action was needed before existing immigration quotas could be increased, so while Congress procrastinated and bickered, my husband would spend the first four of his life in a DP camp looking for a country that would accept him.

A Tarnished Golden Door

These Jews did not receive the welcome promised in the poem by Emma Lazarus inscribed on the Statue of Liberty “I lift my lamp beside the Golden door.” In the years following the end of the war, the lamp was dimmed, the door too often closed.

A Cold War Chill

katz i married a commmunist

Many were convinced that Communists had infiltrated DP camps posing as refugees in order to enter the country where they would soon overthrow the government. All were suspect including this homeless little boy on the left who would one day grow up to be my husband. Did I marry a communist ? Not in the least. (L) My 3-year-old husband in a DP Camp 1948 photo family collection (R) 1949 movie poster “I Married a Communist”

 

Cast in a cold war light, these refugees became even less desirable.

Part of that opposition was fueled, as it is now, by stereotypes of the refugees as harbingers of a dangerous ideology, in this case Communism.

By the beginning of 1947, the composition of the DP camps had changed.

The camps were very overcrowded due to the daily influx of Jews from Eastern Europe fleeing oppressive Soviet occupation. 250,000 Eastern European Jews including large numbers of families and children from Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Romania, Poland, and Soviet Union joined the other displaced persons of the Holocaust.

As my husband and his family lingered in an overcrowded DP camp waiting for a country that would accept them, politicians and a fear mongering media debated the loyalty of Eastern Europeans and the fear of communist infiltration.

Warning! Danger Ahead

anti communism comic book The Red Iceberg

An anti-communist comic book warning young readers of the dangers ahead should Uncle Sam steer clear of the Rd Iceberg

By 1947 relations between the Soviet Union and U.S. were in the deep freeze; the cold war was frozen solid.

In the black and white cold war world war of good vs evil, America was certain that the communists were waging an aggressive campaign of hatred against us embarking upon an aggressive campaign to destroy free government and the American Way of life.

communism soviet propaganda

from the 1947 anti communist comic book “Is This Tomorrow?” warning people of the subversive nature of Communist infiltration

Uncle Sam was convinced that Russia was hell-bent on destroying the traditional American way of Life and had their cunning communist eyes set on infiltrating America with whatever means they could.

Germ War Fare

collage-vintage ad Listerine for colds and vintage anti communist comc book

American feared being infected with a good case of communism. (R) Is This Tomorrow a 1947 comic book designed to teach people about the subversive nature of communist infiltration.

The very health of democracy was at stake, unless these morally corrupting influences were wiped out and banned from our shores.

More frightening than polio was the spread of that ideological virus communism.

And the displaced persons camps were prime breeding grounds for this subversive cunning germ.

The president of the National Economic Council testified in Congress that the DPs were “important carriers of the kind of ideological germs with which it is their aim to infect the public opinion of the U.S. ”

It was a virulent strain of ideology that once exposed, there was no cure. We needed to quarantine the public from the spread of this dangerous virus.

Family Photo children DP Camp germany

Crafty subversive plotters training for their roles as peddlers of Soviet propaganda, skillfully disguise themselves as refugees in a DP camp 1947 . Photo family collection

Just as germs entered the bloodstream undetected so Communists could infiltrate and attack. “Skillfully disguising themselves as refugees,” one article warned, “carrying out their mission these communists spend years in training for their subversive roles, poised to slip in a neat hypodermic needle full of Moscow virus.”

 DP Camp children 1946

In a DP camp in Germany a group of Junior revolutionaries plotting for seizure and power in the USA. Photo- family collection

Many were convinced Communists had infiltrated the DP camps, posing as refugees in order to enter the country where they would soon overthrow the government.

People testified in Congress that the Soviets had placed “trained terrorists’ ( trained at terrorists institutions in Moscow) in the DP camps .

photo child in snow in germany 1947

Is that a concealed weapon in that snow ball? A 2 year old displaced child in DP camp Germany. Photo Family collection

It was  therefore likely that many DP camps admitted from Europe would include a number of these terrorists. Alarmists feared that DPs were Soviet “Trojan Horses bent on the nations destruction.”

Natural Tendencies

As a reflection of their “natural tendencies” the perceived politics of the displaced person’s thus posed a threat to American nation.

Many Congressmen opposed DP immigration equating these “New Immigrants” with anarchism, communism and Bolshevism, recklessly claiming the DPs were “imbued with political ideologies wholly at variance with our constitutional system of government.”

Who Can You Trust

What it boiled down to was loyalty and trust calling in to question the loyalty of immigrants from Eastern Europe.

Marking an entire people as pre disposed to disloyalty is a familiar refrain.

Once here, the DP’s ( from Central, Eastern and Southern Europe) would be “peculiarly susceptible to the absorption of socialistic propaganda” and naturally gravitate into “left wing unions” and the immigrant slums which were “mothers of revolution.”

Opponents of DP immigration often spoke of how the DPs and the “ideological germs” that they carried would weaken the nation from within, echoing fears of “race suicide” that had been so prevalent in debates about immigration earlier in the century.

1948 Displaced Persons Act

However as time went on President Harry Truman stood up against the public opinion and Congress in his battle to open the door of the U.S. to Jewish DPs. He urged Congress to enact legislation that would admit thousands of homeless and suffering refugees of all faiths to the U.S.

After pressure, Congress passed the less than magnanimous 1948 Displaced Person Act ( an act to authorize for a limited time the admission into the U.S. 200,00 of certain European displaced persons) which was highly selective using date restrictions designed to limit the number of Jewish refugees eligible for entry.

President Truman when he signed it, grudgingly admitted it was better than nothing, but called it “flagrantly discriminatory” against Jews and Catholics. 1

Change of Heart

communism radio free europe girl barbed wire

Many began seeing the propaganda potential of DPs that could be exploited and that they be touted through the U.S. as “Victims of Communism.”

As more refuges were being admitted, a cold war re-branding of the DPs began to take hold. In the war against communism they could use their plight to our advantage.

One document  suggested a technique for fighting Communism in the USA strongly recommending “that the propaganda potential of DPs be exploited and that they be touted through the U.S. as Victims of Communism.”

The obvious fact that the DP’s who might technically be able to return to their East European homelands refused to do so because of feared Communist rule, had somehow previously eluded them.

Many folks began to realize that far from destroying the nation from within, the politics of the DPs especially their anti-communist feelings could strengthen the nation in its conflict with the Soviet Union.

For many of the proponents of DP immigration, the DPs did not represent the communist contagion but rather the anti-communism inoculation.

They would be living proof of the terrors and horrors of Communist rule.

In its final report the USDPC urged the resettlement of refugees from communist tyranny should become part of Cold War U.S. Strategy.

These displaced persons served to remind us of the dangers of totalitarian communism!

Post Script

photo of immigrants coming to america 1949

Coming to America 1949 Photo family collection

In the fall of 1949 a few months before a relatively unknown senator from Wisconsin began his 4 year witch hunt for Communists, my future husband and what remained of his family arrived in the states from their DP camp in Germany.

After a ten-day crossing from Bremerhaven, Germany, the ship steamed into NY Harbor. On board were other displaced persons some were survivors of concentration camps others refugees from Russian persecution.

Some were so old that they had little to look forward to except burial at last in American earth; others like my husband, so young that soon they would have no recollection at all of Europe. But all of them felt grateful to the country that had finally given them a safe haven.

Only 4 years old, Hersh who had spent almost all his life behind barbed wire was able to adjust quickly, learning phrases that would take his parents months to learn.

His first experience here was watching Hop Along Cassidy on TV. This little 4 year boy who could only speak Yiddish donned a cowboy hat and learned the language watching good old American westerns.

As his parents watched him change from a displaced person with a number into an American, they beamed with happiness.

Today this former unwanted refugee is an attorney defending those most in need of help, whose eloquence owed a lot to those 1950s cowboy and the generosity of America for welcoming him.

1. Note: So much criticism was heaped on the 1948 Act that Congress later passed amendments extending allotment of US immigration visas for DPs to approximately 500,000.
The 1950 revision succeeded including treating all European refugees “equally as members of the human race” as the NY Times said in an editorial at the time.

© Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream with appropriat

Cold War July 4th

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America patriotism illustration little girl, teacher, globe,1940s

It was  July 4, 1955. The cold war was frozen solid.

Never were American dreams more potent or more seductive than in Cold War America when the USA stood united and confident in our role as leader of the Free World.

It would soon be my first Independence Day and my parents believed it was time for its littlest citizen to be introduced to her Uncle Sam and  “My America.”

What better place to be inculcated with truth, justice and the American way than at an honest to goodness Fourth of July parade.

Like most American  children I would be  inoculated with a strong dose of Americanism which if administered at an early age would build up your immunity to any opposing belief system.

That year, the theme of our local parade was the celebration of The Four Freedoms.

All across Long Island, residents were a buzz over the fact that our towns parade was being co-sponsored  by those Cold War crusaders of truth from “The Crusade For Freedom”.

Cold War Crusaders of Truth

Vintage Ad asking Sure i want to fight communism -but how?

Vintage Ad Radio Free Europe Truth Dollar Campaign 1955

 

The Crusade, was a privately funded donation drive that raised “truth dollars” to support Radio Free Europe, the radio station that broadcast news and current affairs to the enslaved people behind the Iron Curtain.

In the black and white cold war world of us vs them, we were convinced that the Russians were hell-bent on destroying  freedom and the American way of life and it would be up to us to contain them.

Who Can You Trust

Soviets Allies WWII Stalin Life Magazine

WWII Soviet Allies (L) Life Magazine cover 3/29/43 featuring warm and fuzzy Joseph “Uncle Joe” Stalin (R) Life magazine cover 2/12/45 featuring our brave ally a Soviet Soldier courageously driving on to Berlin

Like so many war born marriages it turned out our grand alliance during WWII  with the Soviets was more a marriage of convenience and our relations had turned frosty.

As if shifting gears between enemy and ally was as effortless as the automatic transmission in your Chevrolet, the considerable fury and fear that had fueled our hatred of those bloodless Nazis had been seamlessly and swiftly rerouted to those Godless Russians Commies, uniting our country once again.

Uncle Sam was certain that the Communists were not only concealing the truth but were waging a campaign of hatred against us and our peaceful, decent motives.

They were weaving fantastic stories and twisted facts about America unlike in our country where the government told us the truth.

Truth as clear and undistorted as the perfect picture you were promised on your new Philco television set.

True picture, no blur, no distortion, that was the American Way.

Cold Facts

American & Soviet Propaganda Cold war book illustration Uncle Sam

(L) Vintage Book The Soviet Image of the United States A Study in Distortion by Frederick C. Barghoorn Co. 1950 Harcourt, Brace & Company
The book claims that “Soviet propaganda against the United States is one of the main instruments of the Kremlin’s aggressive foreign policy Moscow, building the worlds greatest war machine, is seeking to turn world opinion against the US by accusing America of crimes against humanity of which itself is guilty>”

By exposing the calculated lies that Communists were spreading, and promoting the American way of Life, Radio Free Europe became a vital strategy in winning the Cold War.

The Crusade For Freedom had aired public service announcements on the radio all week leading up to the parade, as well as advertisements in all the papers.

“Every hour, every day, millions hear no other version but hating America”  Dad read aloud from a full-page ad in the NY Times, paid for by the Crusade and their Truth dollars. “The unfortunate people behind the iron curtain are fed a steady diet of lies and misstatements and the poor people are made to swallow that poison”.

Sugar Coated Goodness

Dad wanted us to realize how vital Radio Free Europe was.

As my brother mindlessly popped fistfuls of sugar crisps into his mouth -for breakfast its dandy, for snacks it’s so handy or eat like candy:  Dad tried to explain :“Just as mom feeds us wholesome good food, we needed to feed the poor people behind the iron curtain the good nourishing truth”.

America was not only the greatest nation in the world it was the very embodiment of freedom, democracy and progress.

With my made- in- the- USA regulation rattle in one hand and my National Dairy Council issued bottle of milk in the other I was ready to to be inducted into Uncle Sam’s service and pledge my allegiance to the land of the Free.

© Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Who Says Trump Doesn’t Love Immigrants?

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Donald trump loves immigrants.

And he is generously willing to acknowledge the contributions immigrants have made to this great country, that is if they hew to the immigrants portrayal of his youth. Like his wives, Trump likes his immigrants to be of the European model.

Fixated in that dated, mythical all white place he grew up in, the place and time when America was so great, Trump never advanced beyond 1965 when immigration policies  changed the face of America. He is still stuck back in the school book pages of his childhood where white Europeans were the majority of immigrants

A look at an illustration from a 1954 World Book  encyclopedia that purports to celebrate  American Diversity  and the Immigrant’s contribution to our greatness,  appears to be a page straight out of Trumps policy book

Immigrants Come From Many Lands

Vintage illustration World Book Encyclopedia 1954 Map of Immigrant contributions

“How Immigrants Helped to Build The United States”  is the headline to this illustrated map citing  typical contributions made by the various national groups to American industry and culture. The depiction of a multi racial ,multicultural society is sorely lacking, other than an occasional nod to Mexican farmers, and Chinese railroad workers. Naturally they  note the happy Negro “immigrant’s “ varied contributions such as spirituals and sugar cane growing, whereas the English proudly gave us theories of government.

To people raised in the 1950s,  encyclopedias not unlike  like American history textbooks were the truth of things. They carried the weight of authority.

They were or so it seemed the permanent expression of mass culture in America.

Vintage advertisement World Book Encyclopedia .

Vintage advertisement World Book Encyclopedia .

These heavy set of  books that predate Wikipedia offered knowledge at your fingertips, that like the history books we read at school contained the demeanor more than any other books of authority. Teachers treated then with respect.

Inside the covers of theses weighty tomes the histories were seamless. . American heroes were white. As were the ingredients of our melting pot. The society was a regular patchwork of nations as long as you were European. “ Real” Americans were of “European descent. The browning of America  that would occur later changed the recipes  which was not to many people’s liking. Like KFC  they wanted to stay with the original recipe.

The mass of poor immigrants who arrived at the end of the 19th century were “they” to these books  – aliens whom “we” had to assimilate and mold into citizenship. Lest they become an indigestible and undigested element in the “melting pot” recipe and a menace to our free institutions.

Many People From Many Lands

Vintage illustration World Book Encyclopedia 1954 Map of Immigrant contributions

By the publication of this 1954 World Book Encyclopedia  1950s immigrants are fine people      because their decision to come to the US proves that this is a land of liberty; the fact that they were not turned away- by the Statue of Liberty- proves that Americans are uniquely generous. Then in order to prove that American generosity had not been squandered, the texts list “contributions: that individual immigrants have made to America.”

Vintage illustration World Book Encyclopedia 1954 Map of Immigrant contributions

“By 1900 many people from many lands had settled in America. Through the years these people had built farms and villages and cities across the breadth of the country. They had conquered the wilderness “from sea to shining sea” They had come, most of them because of a dream. It is sometimes called the American Dream.”

 

“And so they came through the years people from many lands in search of a better way of life. About 1 million came from Norway. More than 10 million came from Italy. Millions of others came from the British Isles, from Germany and many other countries. “

A classic original recipes people didn’t want tampered with.

“For many of them the first sights they saw was the statue of liberty It stood at the gateway to the New World . It reminded the immigrants of the dream that led them to America – freedom justice and a better way of life. These people from many lands built the America we know today. We and our sons and daughters will continue to build, for the story of America goes on.

The story did continue.

The 1965 immigration law changed the country in dramatic ways by  abolishing long implemented preferences for immigrants from Northern and Western Europe over African Asians and other developing world nations. Trump would love a return to pre 1965 policies that give preferences to highly educated usually white Europeans.

Though most of us have turned the page on these dated notions, Trump is stuck  on that page.

 

© Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 


Rise:Empower, Change and Action!

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Collage by Sally Edelstein Collage Detail from Womens Lib- A Storms Approachin’ collage by Sally Edelstein

Nearly 50 years after the women’s liberation movement stormed onto the scene opening a floodgate of discourse about women’s rights, it’s déjà vu all over again.

Once again women are rising up, speaking up, and empowered. Once again they are taking action.

Having come of age during the second wave of feminism, it feels as though we are riding the third wave right now.

It began with the Women’s March which opened the way for the #MeToo Movement allowing so many  women to finally give voice in a public way  to often decades old sexual harassment and assaults. While the second wave feminists helped open the door  for women in the workplace, sexism and sexual harassment at the office was  hidden behind closed doors for decades.

Despite some opposition, they are being heard.

collage Sally Edelstein art A Storm's Approachin

://envisioningtheamericandream.files.wordpress.com/2015/02/collage-a-storms-approachin-new-300dpi-copy-copy-6-copy.jpg”> Collage Detail; Women’s Lib-A Storm’s Approachin’ by Sally Edelstein

[/caption]For all the advances that had been gained by the women’s movement in the 1970’s it’s hard to believe that systemic gender inequality still exists today and women are still being moved around like so many pawns in a political game that seems to be played by men only.  The denial of reproductive rights, wage inequality, sexual violence and domestic abuse are still very much a part of our current dialogue.

Why are women’s lives still so difficult even now in the 21th century?

Ironically because feminist ideas are so taken for granted, for years few women thought of themselves as “feminists.” The persistent stereotype of 2nd wave feminists as male bashing, make-up-less, angry and non domestic was the same stereotype perpetrated by the media at the time.

It is worth remembering not only their struggles, but how they opened the door to how women can empower themselves and change the culture through action.

Rise Empower, Change and Action!

sally-edelstein-collage-storms-approaching art collage

ningtheamericandream.files.wordpress.com/2015/02/sally-edelstein-collage-storms-a-coming-se8.jpg”> “Women’s Lib-A Storms Approachin” collage 48″x84″ artist :Sally Edelstein. On view at Whitney Modern Gallery in Los Gatos , CA July 19-August 31st, 2018

[/caption]I am honored to be a part of a very timely exhibition RISE: Empower,Change and Action at the Whitney Modern Gallery in Los Gatos, CA.

Whitney Modern Gallery in collaboration with Gutfreund Cornett Art present an exhibition featuring the art of 36  artists advocating for gender equality, women’s rights and social justice, these expressions provoke, and challenge assumptions about women’s lives in today’s global society in hopes of seeking a more empowering future.

Women’s Liberation

Sally Edelstein-A Storm's Approachin' art collage

mericandream.files.wordpress.com/2015/02/sally-edelstein-a-storms-approachin-b.jpg”> Collage Detail: Women’s Lib- A Storms Approachin’ by Sally Edelstein

[/caption]My collage “Women Lib: A Storms Approaching” takes a look at a  time pivotal time period when women became conscious not only of the inequality but how our identities had become fragmented by a media insistent on dictating ever-changing standards.

When women grapple with gender inequality they often find themselves turning to a rich 10 year period of modern history – the 1970s. Before the 1970’s a woman could not keep her job if she were pregnant, get a credit card, report cases of sexual harassment  or have a legal abortion.

The piece, part of a series called “Media Made Women” is a pastiche of postwar American imagery, a time when confining and conflicting images of media stereotypes of women littered the pop culture landscape that was erupting in a women’s liberation movement.

These images helped shape the female psyche in setting standards of how women should imagine their lives, think of fulfillment and arrange their priorities.

Collage as Expression

art work sally edelstein collage appropriated images

.files.wordpress.com/2015/02/collage-a-storms-approachin-gaspnew-300dpi-copy-copy-2.jpg”> Collage promotes collusion’s of realities; by dissociating the images from their intended use, I can exploit the iconic effects of the imagery. Collage Detail: A Storms Approachin by Sally Edelstein

[/caption]Collage becomes the perfect vehicle to deconstruct these fragmented messages.

Like most Americans, I have consumed vast amounts of pop culture imagery over the decades; as an artist and a collector I have amassed a formidable collection.

Like a toxic overspill, fragments of these countless mass media images remain imprinted in all of us.

Using collage as a means of deconstructing myths and examining social fictions, the piece is composed of hundreds of images appropriated from vintage advertising, periodicals, newspapers, vintage school books, old illustrations, comic books, pulp fiction and all sorts of ephemera.

Media Matters- Media Made Women

Collage by Sally Edelstein art work appropriated vintage images

dpress.com/2012/08/collage-a-storms-approachin-mother-daughterewatermk-copy.jpg”> Collage Detail: Women’s Lib- A Storms Approachin’ by Sally Edelstein

[/caption]Like most women growing up in the 1960’s I was fed a generous serving of sugar-coated media stereotypes of happy homemakers who were as frozen and neatly packaged as the processed foods they served their Cold war families

Within a decades time these same images would be thawed out under the hot glare of a woman’s movement only to be joined by a heaping helping of new conflicting media representations of how a girl’s life should proceed.

What did it mean to be a woman in the wake of the woman’s movement; what kind of woman should we be? How assertive and ambitious should we be, and how accommodating to men.

Gender Warfare

Sally Edelstein-A Storm's Approachin collage art work

/2015/02/sally-edelstein-a-storms-approachin-a.jpg”> I do not use Photoshop in creating the collages preferring to create the pieces the old fashioned way by Exacto knife. Collage Detail: Women’s Lib- A Storms Approachin’ by Sally Edelstein

[/caption]This ideological warfare about women’s proper place was the prevailing subtext of American popular culture in the 1970’s.

Just as the right has demonized liberalism, so the backlash convinced the public that woman’s liberation was the true American scourge.

The back lash against feminism was filled with cautionary tales about what happens to women who are too angry or outspoken, and get too much freedom and attempted to push women back into acceptable retro roles .

The result was we were ambivalent toward femininity on the one hand and feminism on the other.

The media’s stereotypes about feminism turned the images into caricatures. They certainly played a central role in turning feminism into a dirty word and stereotyping the feminist as a karate chopping, Nair-rejecting bitch, with bad clothes, a perpetual snarl and a larger than life chip on her shoulder.

The media has long presented conflicting contradicting images of women and we have had to navigate the plethora of images offered up to young girls and young women suggesting what a desirable worthwhile woman should be.

Contrary to Popular Belief

collage detail artwork sally edelstein

-a-storms-approachin-crop-6.jpg”> Collage Detail: Women’s Lib-A Storms Approachin’ by Sally Edelstein

[/caption]The irony is 45 years later the contradictions still exist and the media continue to provide us with images and rationalizations that shape how we make sense of the roles we assume in our families, our workplace and our society.

The media continues to be relentless in their assault on the imperfections of the female face and body while our bodies continue to be a battleground in the political arenas.

The current backlash against women and their reproductive rights still inform our dialogues and re-markets old myths about women as new facts.

RISE: Empower, Change, and Action! Art Opening

Art Invitation Rise Empower Change and Action!

If you are near Los Gatos CA  please stop by the Whitney Modern Gallery Gallery to view the show.

VENUE: Whitney Modern Gallery, 24 N. Santa Cruz Avenue, 2nd floor (no elevator), Los Gatos, CA

DATE: Saturday, July 21st, 2018

TIME: 12:30 – 3:30 p.m. Artist talk to begin at 2:30 p.m.

Exhibition opens July 19 to August 31st, 2018

Whitney Modern, in collaboration with Gutfreund Cornett Art, presents Rise: Empower, Change, Action!

This juried exhibition features selected works in the gallery by thirty-six artists from locations around the country and additional twenty-five artists on a looping slideshow on a monitor in the gallery.

RISE: Empower, Change and Action! brings artists into dialogue and brings forth what is important to self, community, our nation and the world at large through art that reflects on, addresses and seeks solutions for a more positive, empowering future, particularly for self-identified women and girls as well as their families. It is underpinned by the feminist principle that believes in political, economic and social equality for all. RISE emphasizes the commonalities of our human experience.

Join the conversation and see paintings, sculpture, printmaking, photography, collage and installations that speak for equality, independence and human rights while offering insight, healing and transformation.

© Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

Is Trump Putin’s Puppet? Not So Comical

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Putin and Donald Trump in Soviet style

A Russian controlled puppet placed in the White house was the stuff of Cold war paranoia and pop culture

 

Joseph Stalin must be grinning in his grave.

Putin has done what the Soviets long dreamed of accomplishing.

Once the stuff of cold war paranoia, spy novels and movies, the Russians have infiltrated our democracy and put a puppet in the White House.

Trump as Putins Puppet

After today’s summit in Helsinki, Trump has made it clear  who is pulling his strings – Donald Trump belongs to Moscow. Not only has Trump divided the U.S. and Western Europe, the President of the United States sided with Russia against  his own intel agencies when it came to proof of Russia’s meddling in our elections and their attempts to undermine American democracy.

Donald Trump: “My people came to me, (DNI) Dan Coats came to me and some others, they said they think it’s Russia. I have President Putin; he just said it’s not Russia.

I will say this:  I don’t see any reason why it would be.”

The accusations of Russia’s interference in our presidential election has sent a big chill down my spine, as childhood memories of the Cold War are quickly defrosted. The terror of the Red Menace infiltrating our country is brought back and is chillingly familiar.

It is a familiar cold war doomsday scenario brought into the 21st century.

Red Menace

The fear of Russian intervention, not only militarily but politically was a common thread throughout my mid-century childhood. American’s were convinced hidden communists were lurking everywhere, secretly infiltrating our government, including our very own state department.

Like those two scheming cartoon villains Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatale those no goodnick spies carrying out Fearless Leaders secret evil plots, Russians were sinister, sneaky plotters carrying out covert actions  just waiting to overthrow a government…including our own.

Russian Menace

Is This Tomorrow Comic Russia control

Now that evidence mounts that the  Russians stole the White House  for Donald Trump, the candidate handpicked by Comrade Putin, it is a scenario eerily straight out of the any number of post war cautionary tales.

Even the techniques they used, misinformation and manipulation of the press, creating divisiveness while pitting citizens against each other to weaken us,  are the exact same devices we were warned  were favored by  the Soviets  to undermine us:

“His aim is to make you hate your fellow-man and keep you blind to the important things in life. He wants to make you forget the importance of your right to vote as you please—to say what you please—to go where you please.”

 

Is This Tomorrow?

 

communism-america-propaganda

“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

One famous 1947 comic book entitled “Is This Tomorrow – America Under Communism” was an over the top tale typical of the time  alerting us of the dangers of a Russian takeover. Over 48 colorful pages it illustrated   just how easy it would be for the Reds to take over the U.S.

File this under Truth is Stranger Than Comic Fiction Department.

It Can’t Happen Here:

The comic opens with a dire warning to the young reader:

isthistomorrow_americaundercommunism_catecheticalguild

IS THIS TOMORROW is published for the one purpose – TO MAKE YOU THINK! To make you more alert to the menace of Communism. “Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

Taking their orders directly from Moscow, the story revolves around a group of American Communists led by  a man named “Jones” and his propaganda advisor “Brown” a sinister Steve Bannon character who explains how they will manipulate the American media as a precursor to their Kremlin approved takeover of the U.S.

 

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

They manipulate strike leaders, and stoke racial, class and religious hatred to help weaken America for the Communists eventual takeover.

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

Race baiting and taking advantage of the things that divided this country worked to their advantage.

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

After the plot to assassinate the president and vice president is successful, the party operatives  have successfully infiltrated the  government  and Jones controls the Speaker of the House (who now is the new president ). Behind the scenes Jones  becomes the”Chief Advisor” and expands the Executive Powers.

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

Destabilizing journalism as a check on the power of government is quickly implemented. Anyone critical is swiftly punished and unfavorable newspapers are denied newsprint until they agree with the party line. Telephone system and radio network are now nationalized.

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“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

 

fight-communism"Is This Tomorrow" published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

“Is This Tomorrow” published by Catechetical Guild Educational Society 1947

INCREDIBLE?

“Did our story seem incredible? It is unbelievable—that such a small group could ever dream of enforcing its will upon the majority. But remember that a group for smaller than the number of Communists living and working in America today seized control of Russia in 1917.

No one can refuse to believe what he knows to be true. And we do know that every method shown in this presentation has been used by the Communists in their rise to power in other countries. Starvation, murder, slavery, force—those are the tools the Communists use to carry out the doctrine of Communism.

The Communists are preparing to seize control of America in any crisis. This crisis, real or contrived—will be there signal to move in… and make their bid for power.

This crisis might begin with a flood in Pennsylvania—a drought in the Middle West. Or it might begin with a general strike in some of our large industrial cities—New York—Detroit—Chicago—San Francisco.

It happened in Poland, Hungary, Yugoslavia, and country after country, the world over.

WHERE DO YOU COME IN?

You are the one with whom the Communist is struggling right now. His aim is to make you hate your fellow man and keep you blind to the important things in life. He wants to make you forget the importance of your right to vote as you please—to say what you please—to go where you please—to worship as you please. The Communist really wants you to forget all your rights to individual freedom and liberty.

But you cannot assume your individual rights without assuming individual responsibility.

If you want to keep on living, you must know who the Communists are—and their methods of working. You must recognize the Communist Party line in action and separate Communist propaganda from the factual news of the day.

You are on the defensive in this battle. You owe it to yourself to know all about the invader. He knows more about you than you suspect.

Laughable  for its inplausibility, it’s not quite so funny now.

Are the Russians coming? It look like they are already here.

 

© Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 

 

Refugees- A Moral Obligation and a Call to Action

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Vintage United Jewish Appeal Ad 1947 image of little girl

“Stretch out your hand in brotherhood, open your heart in compassion.”

Just like my own Jewish family, White House senior advisor Steven Miller’s family was the beneficiary of immigration policies  that his own administration is working so hard to undo.

Trump may be unhinged but Steven Miller is clearly unmoored, especially when it comes to his own family roots.

Like many Jewish Americans, Steven Miller is from a family of immigrants and refugees who desperately came to this country escaping anti Jewish pograms.

But unlike most Jewish Americans who feel a deep sense of obligation to help the next generation of  refugees, Steven Miller is Trump’s architect of his draconian immigration  policy.

Miller is a disgrace to America and a disgrace to the Jews.

Even Miller’s uncle has recently written a scathing editorial eviscerating his black sheep nephew calling him a “immigration hypocrite.”

Jews and Jewish organizations have longed stepped up, no more so than after WWII when the displaced, homeless Jews of Europe faced another crisis in their bitter struggle to survive.

I feel proud that my own family stepped up and opened their hearts in compassion when it was called for..

The Jewish Question

In the late 1940’s anti-semitism was a prevalent attitude in the US.

Refugees from the Holocaust were not welcomed here with open arms

In Congress, antisemitism was an explaining factor in the common hostility towards refugee immigration and anti-semitism explains Congress’s action that blocked all likely havens of refugee for the Jews before the War and were slow to change.

Part of that hostility was fueled – as some grievances are now- by stereotypes of the refugees as harbingers of a dangerous ideology, in this case communism.

United Jewish Appeal – Call to Action

While Congress cooled their heels, charitable organizations stepped up, none more so than the United Jewish Appeal.

The UJA appeal was unprecedented.

The United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration that had started helping Diplaced persons  in 1945 was saddled with limited resources and inadequate to cope with the tremendous need.

A major campaign by the United Jewish Appeal organized in 1946 to help the Jewish Displaced Persons set in motion the most massive reconstruction and immigration program in Jewish history.

It was a challenge to American Jews to help survivors.

Along with thousands of others who answered the humanitarian call, my own family opened their hearts in compassion to help, never knowing that in decades to come this saga would touch their own family.

A Moral Obligation – It’s a Family Affair

Vintage family photos Sally Edelstein DP Camp Germany

Winter 1946. (L) While my mothers Manhattan family vacationed in Miami Beach , (R) my husband and his family spent the winter in a DP Camp in Germany.

On a snowy February afternoon in 1946 while my future in-laws scrounged for food in a Displaced Persons camp in Germany, bartering cigarettes and chocolate for fresh meat and milk my own beloved grandmother Sadie sat in the warm comfort of the grand ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, one of a several hundred women attending the opening rally of The Woman’s Division of the UJA, the United Jewish Appeal  of Greater NY.

Seated at snowy white linen covered tables festooned with silver plated urns filled with Herbert Tareyton cigarettes, they waited silently, somberly sipping tea and nibbling lighter than air angel food cake in anticipation of the featured speaker Mrs Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

We…You…Are  Their Only Hope

These ladies had gathered together to embark on the greatest drive to raise money for the Jewish Refugees , part of The UJA’s recently launched $100,000,000 nation wide drive.

Eleanor Roosevelt the guest speaker had just recently come from visiting 4 DP camps and movingly shared her experience of the indescribable pain and suffering she witnessed.

Looking out at the packed ballroom of that grand hotel filled with well-heeled and well-intentioned ladies, a veritable sea of bobbing Lilly Dache chapeau, a profusion of ranch mink and Persian Lamb coats redolent of Shalimar and Joy, the former First lady firmly implored : We cannot live in an island of prosperity in a sea of human misery,

These smartly dressed ladies in their Hattie Carnegie dresses who now lived in large limestone apartments that lined the grand Avenues  of the Upper West Side of N.Y. gave her a standing ovation.

“These are Your Brothers and Sister Who Speak…”

Nearly all these women were once Eastern Europeans themselves, or had come from those who had made the odyssey, suffered from dislocation, confusion, fear, loss of what they knew.

All looking for a better life.

Many of these same women knew first hand the Cossack’s on horseback that had driven their people from their homes, the laws that had prevented them from owning land, living where they wanted, getting an education.

They knew that even here, in this new land where they had prospered because prosperity was what America had to offer, they were still despised for being themselves, for being Jews. So they knew the only way to survive was with your people and to care for them.

That it was the obligation of American Jews to contribute generously to relieve the suffering of the surviving Jews of Europe was never in question.

UJA 1947 SWScan00614

The UJA ran a series of emotion laden ads asking for help, such as the one above.

“Give them Life and Make it Worth Living”

These are your sister and brothers who speak.
Praying that their liberation from Nazi tyranny shall not be turned into a mockery by the worlds indifference. Praying that now, after years of torture and death and a miserable existence in displaced persons camps they be helped to rebuild their lives.

UJA 48 united-jewish-appeal-ad-cannot-bring-back

By 1947 the need was greater.

The Jewish population of the DP camps has tripled in one year. From 85,000 at the beginning of 1946 to 250,00 in 1947.

Resources were depleted.

Not only were US Quotas  still in place against the Jews there was an organized campaign against permitting the entrance of displaced persons into the U.S. with President Truman’s mail 7 to 1 against admission.

Many nations shared the shame of the US in having refused sanctuary to stateless Jewish survivors following WWII.

Efforts to get them into Palestine faced great odds. Great Britain continued to strictly limit the number of Jews allowed in Palestine. Jews already living in British-controlled Palestine organized “illegal” immigration by ship. In 1947 the British forced the ship Exodus 47 which was carrying 4,500 Holocaust survivors headed for Palestine, to return to Germany where the passengers were again imprisoned in camps.

The United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration set to expire that June placed greater burdens on the agencies of the UJA.

The  massive campaign continued running ad campaigns in the popular magazines.

Could You Refuse Them If They Stood Before You?

 

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The plaintive question asked in  this 1947 UJA ad went straight to the heart:

“Could you look into the sad proud eyes of this girl and say, No child I will not help you?

Could you bear to hear the sobs of this frightened boy without wanting to draw him into the warm shelter of your s arms?
There are thousands more like these 2…children who have survived Hitlers plan for their extermination. Sad, hungry terrified children who need your help.

They have seen sights no child should ever see. They have known terror we in America cannot even imagine. Before they had a chance to be young, their hearts grew old. Their souls are wounded in a way that only understanding people like you can heal.

They need everything. Food clothes and medicine just to keep them alive. The need homes and guidance. They need education and training for useful lives in Palestine the US or some other hospitable land.

But most of all they need what all people need…faith in their fellow beings, hope for the future.

We in America…you in your comfortable living room..it is us they look for help. We…you…are their only hope.

It was a moral obligation then, it is a moral obligation now.

 

© Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Neil Simon A Scandal Remembered

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High School Newspaper Plaza Suite Neil Simon

Thanks to Neil Simon I made the front page of my High School newspaper in the spring of 1973. My one and only brush with the prolific playwright involved a scandal.

In my senior year of  High School, I was delighted to be cast as Norma Hubley in the hilarious play Plaza Suite. As a devotee of theatre, the chance to utter the sharp and witty dialogue of the great Neil Simon was a dream come true.

However my dream was nearly squashed when the play was considered “too scandalous and indecent” for my buttoned-up suburban community.

Neil Simon was just too hot to handle.

Let’s Get it On

Although by 1973 the sexual liberation was in full gear apparently it had missed Franklin Square, NY.  The Revolution would go on without us.

The controversy over the choice of play came smack on the heels of protestation by parents concerning whether sex education should  be included in health education curriculum. That ugly uproar caused our principle to decide to censure our upcoming play. As though we were putting on a stage production of Deep Throat the PTA went into a tizzy.

The cause of this hoopla? The “racy” second act.

High School Production of Plaza Suite 1973

The three  act play each involved different characters but all set in suite 719  of the Plaza Hotel. The second act featuring a meeting between a  movie producer, a smooth-talking ladies man with the intent on seducing an old flame who was uninterested in his advances was just too risqué.

When word of the production got out, petitions were drawn up to shut down the play and meetings set up. The sexual innuendo between unmarried people was just too improper. Finally  Simon’s lines were rewritten and risqué lines deleted.

But the lines of inappropriate behavior being crossed was the furthest thing from their minds.

Seen through the lens of the MeToo Movement  the fact that the Harvey Weinstein like character crossed the line as a fun-loving “ladies man” attempting  to seduce an uninterested party  was not the issue.  What they objected to was the illicit nature of the meeting.The fact that she repeatedly rebuffed his advances was of little consequence.

I wonder what High Schools would think today.

 

 

Another September 11… Miss America

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collage Miss America 1955 Lee Meriwether and illustration baby in womb

September 11th is a date indelible in America’s collective consciousness.

But the date shares another less remembered benchmark, one whose impact is still felt today. In 1954, September 11th was the very first live nationally broadcast Miss America Contest.

For much of my early childhood my grandfather would lovingly refer to me as “Miss America.” Occasionally I would get an upgrade and be called Miss Universe, though to be more accurate in his heavy Noo Yawk accent it was more “Miss Unevoice.” I never realized till later it was because my mother had been  three months pregnant with me at the time of that historical Miss America   broadcast . My grandfather assumed that I was in a womb with a good view. My mother watching  it live on TV remembered that date vividly.

The residual affects I would learn through osmosis.

Monday Morning Setember 13

It was Monday morning in early September of 1954, and the Kaffee Klatch of girls were due over at our new suburban home. After a stormy weekend, Mom opened all the windows wide to let in the cooling breeze airing out the stuffy house. The phenomenon that took place that past Saturday night, the eleventh would be all any of the neighborhood girls would want to talk about.

In years to come, no one would probably remember Saturday’s violent storm, but my mother was positive September 11 would go down as a memorable day in history.

Vintage Breyers Ice Cream Sign

The east coast was just recovering from Hurricane Carol when the tail end of category three Hurricane Edna was expected to hit Long Island late that Saturday afternoon. As a precaution for the coming storm, my father and my brother Andy had walked to the corner to Katz’s Candy Store to lay in provisions. The constant cravings for sweets that suddenly seemed to have consumed my pregnant mother could create a hormonal storm of its own if left unsatisfied.

The candy store on the busy cross street to our block was the type of establishment once found in every neighborhood in Brooklyn and Queens, a throwback to a previous era that now seemed woefully out-of-place amongst the new developments of split-level and ranch homes.

As elderly Mrs. Katz with her gnarled arthritic hands struggled to scoop the frozen Bryers strawberry ice cream from the big multi-gallon tub into a small white cardboard container, Andy sat at the counter spinning on the vinyl stools. Fascinated as much by the whirling, vibrating sound of the seafoam green Hamilton Beach malted machine as by the uncontrollable trembling of poor, Parkinson’s afflicted Mr. Katz as he prepared the malted milkshakes, Andy couldn’t tell who shook more.

Here She Comes… Miss America

Vintage Ad for Philco TV featuring Miss America

That night with the heavy rain pelting down on the roof, Mom settled in with a big bowl of the frozen pink confection topped liberally with crumpled Lays potato chips, as she sat mesmerized watching the very first televised Miss America Pageant. Dad rolled his eyes and smiled. He had gotten used to her odd cravings.

The live broadcast on ABC from Atlantic City joined the pageant already in progress at 10:30 breaking viewing records coast to coast.

Miss America 1951

Until then, most folk’s contact with Miss America was limited to seeing the beaming winner in movie newsreels after the crowning, or in glossy black and white publicity shots in the newspapers once the beauty had already won. Prior to this, the pageant was an event for privileged individuals who would come to Atlantic City after the summer rush and could afford the prestigious seats.

Now for the first time, TV focused on the way the selection of winners was made. Suddenly it was a national event and an American tradition was born.

My mother could get weepy at most anything in her pregnancy, but Dad couldn’t tell who was shedding more tears- aspiring actress Lee Meriwether as her name was read as Miss America 1955, or Mom watching her being crowned.

Mom couldn’t help hoping that the baby snuggled inside her would be a girl, who maybe might just grow up and be a Miss America herself! One thing she knew for sure…her little girl would be no runner-up in the contest of life! If only there was some way I could have told her that at that very moment  her very own Miss America of 1955 was indeed resting comfortably in her belly.

Monday Morning

Pregnant woman maternity clothes 1950s

Now on Monday morning, Mom was setting up for the neighboorhood gals. Most mornings the collection of new young mothers and mothers-to-be from the block would congregate in one another’s brand new suburban kitchens, that only a year or so ago had been land where Farmer Gutsky planted potatoes.

After doing a quick run of the Bissel carpet sweeper through the house, Mom pulled out the extra Samsonite metal folding chairs from the closet, counting to make sure there were enough for the swollen-bellied girls to rest their swollen ankles on. In those days it seemed there was always bound to be several in the group who were “in the family way.”

Once they were finished exchanging hints on such vital information as which was the best diaper service, the most reliable milkman, or where to have baby’s shoes bronze plated the ladies got on the topic of weight. Go figure.

Vintage ad Maternity Girdles and Miss American contestants in swim suits

After refilling the coffee cups, Mom gently removed the black-out cake from the green and brown Ebingers box that was sitting on the counter, saving the red and white striped string to put in her junk drawer. No one could box a cake faster than an Ebinger girl, despite the fact that most were in their 70’s.

Mom was grateful to her Aunt Irene for bringing it with her on her visit on Friday. though at the time she chastised her aunt for schlepping a cake all the way from Brooklyn. Otherwise, there wasn’t a stitch of decent cake in the house to serve the girls.  She sliced a piece for each gal, carefully licking the chocolate frosting from the knife.

Our neighbor Shirley, a redheaded extrovert with snapping brown eyes, wagged her plump finger sternly at each one of them: “No matter what, if you only get in the habit of doing one thing,” she told the ballooning girls, pausing to take a bite of cake, “ya gotta weigh yourself every day.”

Trying to keep a semblance of their girlish figure as long as they could and balance that extra pregnancy weight to boot, was a real dilemma. But, Mom assured them, with the help of a good maternity girdle there was no problem.

For those gals concerned about gaining weight, Shirley highly recommend her own obstetrician who would insist on prescribing reducing diets for pregnant women who became ‘overweight” in the course of pregnancy even prescribing one of the new wonder drugs that curbed the tendency to overeat.

Appetite suppressants helped some women and small doses of Phenobarbital before meals were indicated for others. New Phenmetrazine appeared to be effective and safe in preventing excessive weight gains during pregnancy. And best of all, The Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology reported that the drug was harmless to the patient.

Of course, nothing was mentioned of the effects to baby. That was the modern, wholesome trend.

Here She Comes….Your Ideal

vintage chart Miss Universe winners

=16643″ rel=”attachment wp-att-16643″> A vintage newspaper chart has it all figured out showing how contestant winners are picked by features

Since they were on the topic of figures, the girls

[/caption]Since they were on the topic of figures, the girls were just bursting at the seams to dish about Saturday’s Miss America broadcast. Debates broke out over the merits of Miss Texas vs. Miss Iowa, but one thing they all agreed on.

The show was a boon to “togetherness” since it got the men’s noses out from behind the newspapers. Out of the corner of her eye Mom had glanced at Dad as he watched the show with the same intensity normally reserved for the New York Giant’s Willy Mays.

The show was crawling with beauties. Incredulous, our neighbor Bunny Brooks remarked “Even gorgeous Grace Kelly was a judge!” Seeing pretty, shapely, young things walk, stop, and twirl in scantily clad one-piece bathing suits and high heels was still racy enough to raise the collective pulses of all the men in the audience.

Miss America and women in maternity clothes 1950s

One thing was sure, they all laughed. With their own swollen bellies and swollen legs, no one was ever going to vote for any one of them for Miss America.

Whatever concerns these pregnant women may have felt about their burgeoning bodies not one of them would give voice to their shared insecurities convinced that they alone felt burdened by.

But privately, more than one of them fretted whether their husbands would ever find them desirable again.

Would they ever have that “winning look”? What would it take to measure up?

After Saturday’s Miss America contest a national standard was set.

Copyright (©) 2018 Sally Edelstein All Rights Reserved

Consumed With the Past

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Vintage illustration American Family and Consumers

For nearly a year, I have been on an archeological dig of mid-century middle-class domesticity. The study was done in a post-war suburban setting; the dig was my parent’s home of six decades. After examining, dating, cataloging, and yes, crying, I am now just coming up for air and ready to evaluate my findings.

Exhuming the detritus of the past has been, quite simply, exhausting.

Consuming Passions

American consumerism has long been my consuming passion. I have chronicled it in my art, my writing, and in the past year, I found myself absorbed with it in a hands-on way.

For the past many months I have been knee-deep in postwar plenty both literally and figuratively.

Closing down my family home of more than half a century  was a tough task filled with endless decisions – to sell or save, donate or discard all the flotsam and jetsam that lay in front of me – the tangible reminders of  lives well lived, of hopes and expectations, some realized and some that were not.

Postwar Promises of Tomorrow

American Family 1955 Consumers

Sprawled out in front of me was evidence of all those post-war promises, tangible proof of giddy mid-century consumer culture. Suddenly it was if  the pages from my vast archive of vintage advertising had sprung to life. All those artifacts were made manifest.  An incurable collector myself, my mother was an unabashed saver.

Hidden in drawers and tucked away in closets lay the countless evidence of those material dreams that had once pumped through the culture  displayed in lavish color-drenched ads that had furnished the material daydreams of the greatest generation.

Items that had once provoked desire, promising the envy of all your friends, were now worn, tired and neglected. But not discarded.  Never before things because it was never possible before, objects bursting with promises of a colorful world of unparalleled ease, offering a new and improved life of no fuss no muss, a world of no waiting, no wondering…that now nobody wanted.

Pattern of Saving

Excavating the basement would be the most challenging.

In my basement lay the remains of that American dream of consumption and like the dream itself, things were broken, chipped and deeply tarnished, a remnant of a once upon a time that seems so distant and quaint now.

Looking around me, I was surrounded by nearly a centuries worth of consuming passions.

Our home became the final resting place of my long deceased extended family’s cherished belongings that no one else wanted but which my mother hadn’t the heart to discard.  A few fortunate pieces had made it upstairs to join my mother’s own homage to gracious living, where they resided in breakfronts and displayed in cabinets. But the majority remained underground.

Spread in front of me now lay nearly three generation’s aspirations to the good life. The collection of fine china, sterling silver and cut crystal that had once graced the well-appointed tables of my great grandmothers, grandparents and great uncles and aunts stood abandoned in our basement. Testaments to gracious living  they had truly come down in the world

For 40 or more years dusty cardboard boxes lay in our cellar untouched, unsealed, from the time when they first landed there with each death. Now it was my job to open and sort through them while   paying homage to long ago family members. Kept from the trash for decades they were never homeless but never used for the glorious life they might have once led. As though they had been in hospice they came here to bide their time in a holding pattern. It was now up to me to make that final call.

Not only was I reminded of my family’s pattern of saving, I was overwhelmed by hundreds of manufacturer’s patterns on objects that I needed to learn to understand their  value.

Sterling silver in all configurations, bon-bon dishes  and compote bowls, melon knives and nut spoons. I learned a tomato fork is distinctly different from a  fish one never ever to be confused with a pickle fork. All spoke to a time past, to gracious living and starched damask tables cloths.

I committed to memory each and every china pattern and researched the marks on the silver and bone china examining each piece like the archeologist I was. Strange hieroglyphics and backstamps  made of letters, circles, squares and shapes would inform me of its manufacture and provenance.

All these patterns to learn but the bigger question was could I break the pattern of saving.

Dis-Order

The items in the basement had no order, a cacophony of consumerism, decades melded together so that a box of saved 1972 Jello box tops once earmarked to redeem an Oster Blender, nestled next to a collection of Limoges hand painted boxes.

The mundane and the revelatory, the precious and valuable stood toe to toe with kitsch, all co-mingling without rhyme or reason, known only perhaps to my mother who placed these objects together.

It was a mashup of Mad Men meets Downton Abbey. A nod to past elegance, that world fading in time. The stuff that guaranteed a gracious hostess, might now casually be tossed in a box to be given to Goodwill.

Revealing Patterns

I was surrounded by heirlooms and for once that word rang true. I am the heir and it all loomed in front of me.

I come from a family of savers though I prefer to think of us as saviors. Of honoring the past. It was a pattern I was determined not to break. In all these things a revealing pattern was made manifest. One that I have long known. I come by my collecting honestly. The distant past is always as close as the things on my shelf and in my drawers.

That “saving pattern” more than “Day in June” or “Tudor Rose”pattern   runs deep in my family DNA.

Will I too end up with unopened boxes for my heirs to open?

My own mortality comes into question. Who will open these boxes I have saved?

Who will really care?

That future looms for my heirs.

 

Next:  Reflections on Gracious Living

Copyright (©) 2018 Sally Edelstein All Rights Reserved

Women Wowing Washington

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Vintage Fashion model Washington DC Capitol 1960

The Beltway Beauties featured in this 1960 election season fashion spread would likely please many of today’s retro Republicans who might be happier returning to a time when women in Washington knew their place – contained safely on the pages of a fashion spread.

Pink may not rule the runways but it is this season’s new color as far as politics go. A pink wave is hitting DC as a record number of women are running to fill the House and Senate.

With Republican men desperately clinging to their familiar  “Century of the Man,” the “Year of the Woman” is nipping at their heels. But it is  a steep uphill battle.

There is no old boy’s club that is older or clubbier than the U.S. Senate who are not happy accepting new applicants.

Mad Men

Vintage Fashion model Washington DC Capitol 1960

Photographs by Henry Clarke for Ladies Home Journal 1960

For years the Senate seemed like an institution frozen in time, remaining more Mad Men than Girl.s

After the recent bitter hearings for Judge Brett Kavanaugh showed sexism and misogynny is still front and center in politics one suspects those Senators would  be more comfortable returning to those Mad Men years when women running up the steps of  the Capitol were more likely to be part of a fashion shoot and not actually running for office.

I Dreamed I Stood on the Capitol Steps in My Pill Box Hat

Vintage Fashion model Washington DC Capitol 1960

Photographs by Henry Clarke for Ladies Home Journal 1960

With a presidential race heating up in the fall of 1960, fashion took a political turn in the Septemberissue of Ladies Home Journal.

In the unladylike, rough and tumble school of politics, women were better suited to be feminine and fashionable, featured as props against out Nation’s Capitol. Women were welcomed to be involved politically just in the service of someone else.

In her dashing tweed cape coat swinging cloak and dagger style, our Beltway “Gal Friday” Francie was fabulously fashion forward for the New Frontier.

Vintage Fashion model Washington DC Capitol 1960

Photographs by Henry Clarke for Ladies Home Journal 1960

Volunteering her time for that dreamy Democrat presidential hopeful, this “Kennedy Girl” was always smartly turned out in a perky pillbox hat or silhouette making dress.

Joining her on the Capital steps in her filibuster-stopping figurine suit with the feminine lines, was Missy who dutifully rang doorbells for Vice President No-Nonsense Nixon wearing her respectable Republican cloth coat.

Women In Politics

Margaret Chase Smith and Lucia Cormier Time Cover 1960

In another Septemberr magazine- Time Magazine Cover September 5, 1960, featuring Margaret Chase Smith and Lucia Cormier. Cover illustration Boris Chaliapin

The fact is the Kennedy-Nixon race wasn’t the only one folks were talking about that election year.

There was one race that caught the public attention as much as the presidential run.

The press corp was going gaga over the high-profile senatorial race in Maine. What set tongues a wagging was that quite improbably both parties had nominated women, marking the first time two women had ever vied for the same Senate seat.

Making headlines, Maine’s Margaret Chase Smith, the tart-tongued Republican incumbent was challenged by Lucia Cormier, a congenial Democrat state Legislator, described as  a “stocky even tempered, spinster.”

When Smith first jumped into the 1948 contest for senator her sex was an issue. The wife of one of her opponents in the Republican primary asked, “Why take a woman to Washington when you can get a man?”

Smith responded that the place for women is everywhere.

Minority Majority

Although in 1960 Time explained that across the land “more bonnets” than ever before were being thrown in the political ring, the stats show 3 women running for Senate and 26 for Congress.

Americans would elect  27 governors, 34 senators and 437 Congressman Americans nearly all of them men. “Compared with other democracies, Time pointed out exactly 58 years ago,” the U.S. was been slow to use the abilities of the majority of its citizens- female.”

In 1960 women formed the largest single element in American electorate. “Next Nov 8, ” Time magazine said “will very likely go down in history as “Ladies Day” with women voters outnumbering men for the first time in any peaceful presidential election.”

 

Cat Fight

In 964 Margaret Chase Smith ran for President losing badly in the GOP Primaries. She campaigned on a “blueberry muffin” platform- light, warm and digestible.

But the “feminine” contest building up in Maine where 2 women were matched against one another for the first time was irresistible to the press for its novelty.

In the old boy’s club atmosphere that was Washington, the press at times appeared to be covering a cat fight between these 2 “Brains from Maine”

The venerable N.Y. Times was typical in its condescending slant. “So far,” it reported,” there has been no political hair pulling.”

Reporters regularly focused on clothing , hair dos and even choice of hats.

When it came right down to it, like our two young career girls, both gals  knew keeping fashion forward was important in any race up the  Capitol Steps.

 

Copyright (©) 2018 Sally Edelstein All Rights Reserved

 


Mourning in America

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memorial day candle

Hate has taken root in America. One need only look at the events of this past week.

Emboldened by Trump, our Inciter-in-Chief, the haters are stepping boldly from the shadows.

Our president is a cancer and Trumpism has metastasized.

In Jewish tradition I light a yartzeit candle not only for the victims of the tragic Pittsburgh shooting at the Tree of Life Synagogue but for the soul of our country.

Until election day, I am sitting shiva for America.

Haunted By The Ghosts of Anti-Semitism

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Yellow Jewish Star Jude

Just in time for Halloween the frightening ghosts and goblins of anti-Semitism past have arisen from their slumber. This virulent strain of hate never really disappeared, merely reawakened.

And it is deadly.

I am scared.

I am haunted.

I am a Jew.

I am haunted by the solemn voice of my childhood Rabbi whose thunderous High Holiday sermons referencing the Holocaust declared “Never Again,” sentiments echoed by Hebrew school teachers.

I am haunted by the countless conversations overhead as a child of anxious parents and family friends debating plaintively … “could it happen here?”

I am haunted by the knowledge that for my parent’s generation, a generation of Jews who lived a life of assimilation yet kept one eye open for that display of anti-Semitism that has always lived right below the surface.

I am haunted by the fact that my parent’s generation was right to believe that anti-Semitism never really left …that it was just a matter of time.

And that time is now.

Never Forget

Holocaust children in a camp

Among the tragic victims of the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting were several seniors with living memories of the Holocaust. Just as the number of Holocaust survivors is dwindling so are those who have first-hand memories of that horrific time.

That Greatest Generation who bore witness to the greatest atrocity of our time, the Holocaust, also bore witness to some of the most virulent anti-Semitic periods here in America.

People like my parents.

The Holocaust

Holocaust survivors Photo by Margaret Bourke-White Life Magazine

Photo by Margaret Bourke-White Life Magazine

By the spring of 1945, the unspeakable details of the European concentration camps began slowly being spoken about.

Through the war, few Americans were aware of its scale. Like most Americans, my mother and her family had their first glimpse of that atrocity when gruesome and heartbreaking images of the Holocaust appeared in print for the first time in the May 7, 1945 issue of “Life” magazine.

Holocauust Victims

Photo by Margaret Bourke White Life Magazine

It was unimaginable – Jewish bodies stacked like hardwood found at a liberated concentration camp. The gruesome display of haunted living corpses, smoldering piles of charred bodies, the atrocities that the allied troops had uncovered. The graphic images recorded for all time by Margaret Bourke-White were bone-chilling and would be seared into my 19-year-old mother’s mind.

This abomination was the unthinkable culmination of nearly two decades of growing anti-Semitism that she and other Jews had witnessed.

1930’s

Vintage photo Nazi Youth marching in Long Island 1930s

Unlike me, my parents had grown up with the constant assumption of anti-Semitism.

It was a childhood punctuated by parades of marching brown-shirted men with outstretched arms and swastikas, cemeteries desecrated and synagogues vandalized. Incendiary anti-Semitism spewed over the airwaves and grand public halls were filled by hateful Nazi rallies spreading vile propaganda.

Perceived as greedy, dishonest and all too powerful, Jews were restricted where they could go and where they could enjoy themselves.

This was America in the 1930’s.

Despite the fact that many, like my grandfather, had served their country in the Great War and felt themselves to be “real Americans,” no matter how assimilated, the Jew was still the “other.”

Many hotels, clubs, and colleges restricted or prohibited Jews from visiting, attending, or becoming members. That was the norm for my parents. Jews were barred from prestigious law firms, admitted to medical schools on a quota basis and excluded from employment by the phrase “Christian.”

A suspicious public still saw Jewish people as different, unassimilable, and threatening. When my mother visited a college friend in Ohio a group gathered at the train station to sneak a peek at “the Jew” to see whether it was true they actually had horns.

“Beware of World Jewry”

As Hitler was rising to power in Germany the U.S. was producing its own anti-Semitic demagogues.

Though the news of the Nazi persecution moved from the front page to the inside of the newspapers, Jews were not only frightened with what was happening in Germany,  there was the unspoken fear – “Could it happen here?”

One of the most popular and dangerous voices was Father Coughlin, a Roman Catholic priest and propaganda king who peddled hate, spouting vile anti-Semitism on his radio program. No flash in the pan, this popular program attracted 40 million listeners for over a decade.

To Coughlin, the New Deal became the “Jew Deal,” liberals were communists and the faithful must “Think Christian,” “Buy Christian” and “Beware of World Jewry.” By the late 1930’s Father Coughlin was speaking out in favor of the Nazis and blaming Jews for political and economic troubles.

Jewish World Conspiracy

Henry Fords Dearborn Independent Anti Jewish headline

Henry Fords articles in The Dearborn Independent attracted the attention of Adolph Hitler 1920

That familiar “Globalism” trope had dovetailed nicely with Henry Ford who a few years earlier had outlined the “Jewish World Conspiracy” in his newspaper the “Dearborn Independent.”

His anti-Semitic views echoed the fears and assumptions of many Americans. The articles referred to Jews as the root of Americas and the world’s ills and were reproduced in the book “The International Jew: The Worlds Foremost Problem.”

Suffice to say my grandparents only purchased Chryslers for their motoring pleasure.

Stereotype caricature of a Capitalist Jew

Even Lucky Lindy, my father’s childhood idol, became a Nazi Sympathizer.

All-American hero Charles Lindberg began espousing “America First” a slogan embraced by Nazi-friendly Americans in the 1930’s. No friend of the Jews he famously commented: “We are all disturbed about the effect of the Jewish influence in our press, radio, and motion pictures.”

“Jews Will Not Replace Us”

Vintage editorial cartoon Jewish Refugees not accepted

Even as American’s read about the Jews being attacked on the streets of Nazi Germany there was great resistance for increasing immigration quotas fearing the potential flood of undesirable immigrants.

As the waiting lists for U.S. immigration visas swelled so did anti-Semitism.

German Jewish refugees on St Louis 1939

By 1939 bills in Congress were proposed to end all immigration for 5 years. Speeches by Senators insisted that the time had come to “Save America for Americans.”

While those exclusionary words echoed in our halls of Congress, the fated “St. Louis” the  German ocean liner filled with Jewish refugees was refused entry into the U.S. and turned back.

German American Bund rally NY Madison Square Garden 1939

That same year the German American Bund held an “Americanization” rally in New York’s Madison Square Garden denouncing Jews and their conspiracies. The rally was attended by 20,000 uniformed men wearing swastika armbands and carrying Nazi banners.

Never Again

Yartzeit Memorial candle

With the end of WWII, the sober realities of what hate could bring were made manifest.

After the horrors of the Holocaust were revealed perhaps the hope was the world would be cleansed of that virulent strain of hate. Perhaps the greatest generation hoped to eradicate anti-Semitism as they had with polio.

So yes, gone would be the overt anti-Semitism of my parent’s youth, but it was never far from their minds.

For my own childhood, anti-Semitism seemed to be a relic of the past. Because I would grow up living in an unprecedented time of acceptance for Jews it would be easy for me to be lulled into a sense of security.

Because what happened in Nazi Germany was such a terrible atrocity it felt impossible to imagine ourselves capable of causing anything that resembled it. Certainly, societies would stop, reverse, and repair long before plunging into such appalling depths.

I wanted to think “never again” was a statement of fact. In my America, that kind of hate can’t exist.

Except it can.

Past is Present

Victims of the Pittsburgh Synagogue shooting

The specter of anti-Semitism has always hovered around us, the shadowy world of hate like a sinister ghost I chose not to want to see it.

But even as an American Jew, I learned through osmosis the coded language and dog whistles of hate and bigotry. To Jewish eyes and Jewish ears the tropes of today are familiar, as familiar as the ancient prayers of Kaddish said in temple.

As shocked as I am today at this ugly display of hate perpetrated in a Pittsburgh synagogue, I am haunted by the fact my parents might not be.

My parents were haunted by the ghosts of anti-Semitism.

Though I never believed in ghosts, I do now.

I am spooked.

I am a Jew.

 

 © Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sally Edelstein and Envisioning The American Dream with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Don’t Doodle With Our Constitution

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(L) Page from "Our Country Historical Coloring Book" 1956 "The Constitution (R) Crayola Crayons

Donald, there are more colors in your Crayola Box than the white crayon you insist on always coloring with.

The Constitution was meant to be colored using all the colors in the box.

And while you’re at it, Mr. Trump, stop scribbling all over our beloved Constitution and learn to color within the lines. Your birthright citizenship stunt doesn’t fly. The 14th Amendment to the Constitution can’t just be erased with an executive order.

Or doodled away

Every Vote Counts

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Vintage ad- illustration of mid century people voting

You cannot value too highly your right to vote.

It is the American Way.

In the midst of the cold war, Metropolitan  Life Insurance  ran an ad encouraging Americans to embrace their  God-given American right to vote, a privilege not given to those behind the iron curtain of Communism.

It was thought essential to emphasize The American Way of Life by contrasting it with those Godless Communists.

What was more fundamentally American than the right to vote?

A simple  curtain of cloth- not iron or bamboo- is a symbol of our liberties.

It helps to protect the right to vote privately and freely.

By voting we reaffirm our faith in the American form of government and make our voices heard in matters affecting the preservation of our heritage and way of life.

To vote is a right and a privilege…and a responsibility

To vote intelligently is a duty.

It still is.

Of course in 1952 when this ad ran, the privilege to vote did not really extend to all Americans.  That curtained voting booth wasn’t  open to all. This most basic right of a citizen in a democracy was often denied to African-American citizens.

Voter suppression of a minority was also part of our  American heritage.

It still is.

vintage photo civil rights demonstarors voting laws 1964

Civil Rights advocates protesting discriminatory voting laws in 1964 ( AP Photo/Bob Daugherty)

Despite the 14th and 15th amendments guaranteeing the civil rights of Black Americans, their right to vote was systemically taken away by white supremacist state government well into the 1950’s and beyond.

That was their way of preserving “their heritage.”

States found ways to circumvent the Constitution and prevent Blacks from voting. Poll taxes, literacy tests, fraud and intimidation all turned down African-Americans from voting.

Sadly this too is part of the “American Way.”

vintage voting pamphet to Afrcan American Men

“As citizens of the US you cannot value too highly your right to vote.” So begins a vintage booklet directed specifically “to colored men of voting age in our southern states.”

This pamphlet “What a Colored Man Should Do to Vote” from the early 1900’s outlines the voting regulations in 13 states in the South. It also offers general advice on the voting process including an appeal for African-American Voters to be on “friendly terms” with their white neighbors so they could discuss common needs.

It sums up the requirements of each southern state:

You must pay your poll tax, you must register and hold your certificate of registry. In some states if you cannot read or write you can register if you own $300 worth of property.

In other states in order to register you must be able to read and write any article of the Constitution of the U.S. and must be regularly engaged in some employment the greater part of the year before election.

Any person convicted of felony, adultery, larceny, wife-beating, miscegenation, vagrancy, selling his vote is forever barred from voting.

Voting is  part of the American heritage

So is voter disenfranchisement.

Still.

It is our duty to vote

It is also our duty to prevent voter suppression.

Let’s right the right to vote.

 

 

 

This is What Democracy Looks Like

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Election 2018 Midterm Diversity Women

This is what democracy looks like. This is what America looks like.

Today there is a blue wave and I am tickled pink. Today we witnessed a pink wave and I am no longer blue.

Color me happy.

For today.

election winners 2018 LGBTQ

LGBTQ wins. A rainbow in this blue sky

Yes, there is deep disappointment and even deeper divisions.

But today I celebrate the losses as well as the gains.

I celebrate the loss of the deep despair I have felt for the past two years. And the loss of the chronic gnawing pain that has settled in my soul and head and body.

There are big challenges and road blocks ahead, I know this. It will not be all blue skies ahead.

But I feel hopeful.

Even if just for today.

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