I Think I remember, Part 3

One night while living in the Williamsburg Project, my father whom I had not seen for some time, came in an old truck and picked up my mother, my brother, and me. It was in the middle of the night and we did not pack anything but some clothes and took our blankets and pillows. My brother and I went in the back of the truck and slept.

In the morning we were in Connecticut. Not sure where. We drove around for several hours, I later was told we were looking for the factory which had promised my father work. This was the reason we were taken there in the night. Finally we found the place and my mother and my brother and I stayed in the parked truck while my father went in to talk to the man that had hired him over the phone.

After a few minutes he came out and told my mother he did not get the job as they did not hire Jews. The man had not asked on the phone if he was Jewish and he had not given up the information.

Now we were there with no place to live, no work and now money. My mother had .09 so she went into a diner we came to and asked the man to allow her to buy .09 worth of milk for my brother and I, but he said the milk was .10 a glass and he would not sell less, anyway he said he did not serve Jews in his diner.

We went a little further and in another diner a women sold my mother .09 worth of milk that my brother and I shared.

At the time I was about 8 years old.

After a couple of days of driving around and sleeping in the truck, we moved into and apartment in a town which I think was called Germantown. My father and mother did get jobs somewhere, I am not sure where or how. There is a piece of knowledge here since I never knew how they got the money to get the apartment or where they were working..

We lived in the apartment for a few months I guess, It was here that I caught my finger in the roller of the washing machine. It was bleeding badly and my father took me to a hospital where we were told I needed stitches. That hospital said they could not treat me so I was taken , bloody towel and all to another hospital where they sowed up my finger. I still have the scar to this day and I am now 75 years old.

We lived in the apartment for several months, then we moved to a small house sort of in the country. It was behind a larger house with fences all around. When school started my brother and I had to walk a long way around the front house and farmland since the farmer did not want us cutting through his fields. My mother said he was very angry that the owner had rented to Jews.

At this time my mother and father were working and I am not sure where. We were doing good I think since my father bought a car. The truck we had come in died many months ago.

The car had a rumble seat and my brother and I would wrap up in blankets to sit back there. It felt so grand.

We were not allowed on the school bus as they did not like having Jews at the school. It was a public school so they could not keep us out, but they could make us as miserable as possible.