I am writing this story so that these members of the family will be remembered for generations.

Shirley Nadel

The Isaacsons and Halperins were my grandparents. They came to the United States from an area in Bella-Russia. In this area people lived in small villages that were very close to each other. My maternal grandfather Avrom Tzvi Ben Jacob Tzain Kadesh (Tzain Kadesh means the holy flock) came from a village called Haraduk and his brother in-law, my paternal grandfather, Yehoshua Isaacson, came from Radiskovick.

The families within the villages intermarried. Avrom Tzvi married Rachel Leah Halperin and Yehoshua married her sister Elke. The two sisters lived in the nearby village of Krasnia. Rachel Leah and Elke had grown up on a mill farm from land which Czar Alexander had parceled out to Jews. Their father grew wheat, milled it and sold it.

The area in which they lived was under Russian rule from 1793 until 1921 and then became part of Poland until 1939 after which it was considered part of the new country of Lithuania.

Isaacson-Halperin:

My Paternal Grandparents

Not a lot is known about my Zaidie Yehoshua “Sam” Isaacson’s early days. What is known is that his marriage was arranged. Around 1888, Sam was recruited to serve in the Russian army. Since he was not an only son, which would sometimes allow for a military exemption, he faced two possible futures: (1) conscription, or (2) emigration. Going into the army was not a viable option as most Jews did every thing they could to get out of the terror of the Russian Army. Some went so far as to injure themselves to make them ineligible and others left for America. Sam chose America.

We know a little more about Bubbie Elke. She was raised in a family of eleven children, four boys and seven daughters. Once I asked Bubbie, “How is it that you can read and write Yiddish and Hebrew? Bubbie Elke replied, “We lived in a village away from the town, so our father hired a malamud (Yiddish for teacher) for my four brothers. I went to my father and asked if I could learn with the boys. He happily agreed.” When I asked Bubbie if she had toys to play with she said, “The coppersmith would come around to ask families if they needed something made. For our oldest sister Hinde, our parents ordered a full set of miniature pots and pans. These pots were passed from the oldest to the youngest sisters to play with so that they would learn about keeping house.”

Sam and Elke were married in the 1880’s in Beila-Russia. After the Sheva Brochas (seven blessings at the wedding) were read, there was the traditional week-long celebration of the marriage. The young couple was immediately smuggled across the border to Hamburg, Germany, to board a ship to America. They chose to settle in Maine because they already had family there. Elke’s older sister and brother-in-law were waiting for them.

Within a few years, Sam established the Blue Store, a clothing store in Lewiston for men and boys. The thing that stood out about his business skills was his novel marketing approach. His innovative techniques included a money-back guarantee, the use of an installment plan, and declaring the Blue Store — the largest selection of men and boy’s clothing. Some of the men in town used the store as a place for discussing politics. It was the town’s unofficial Water Commission Office, since Sam was a member of the Board of Directors.

Elke, a determined, intelligent woman, ran the family as a matriarch. Elke told her sisters, who also found their way to America, to go to night school to learn English. They did. However, it was only Elke who went enough to learn to read and write.

She raised five children, the oldest died of leukemia, Mayer, Harris Abrabram Avraham Tzvi, called Pete (my father born March 6, 1895), and Max and Evelyn. Harris Abraham Avraham Tzvi was called Pete, since a first cousin was given the same birth name. Later he had his name legally changed to Peter A. Isaacson since both cousins became lawyers, practicing on the same street in Lewiston, Maine.

Sadly, Sam Isaacson died at the age of 36 (1904), leaving Elke and the children. After his long illness, the income from the store dropped so substantially that Elke sold it in order to use the money to buy a large farm house on Cook Street in Auburn, Maine, known affectionately as “Up the Hill”. It was a red shingled, white trimmed, three story house with a barn located on top of the hill, surrounded by ten acres of fruit trees and gardens. They also had a cow.

Years later, Elke married Joseph Graffman, the children’s Hebrew teacher, whom they adored. He was a learned man who made a modest living as a peddler, selling fruit and Turner Center Ice Cream around a 10-12 mile countryside route. When his grandchildren accompanied him on his route, they fondly recalled getting the large, nearly empty, five-gallon containers of as much ice cream as they could possibly eat. He was Zaidie to all of Bubbie’s grandchildren.

Several years later, Elke gave birth to two more sons, Keith and Benny. Although they had little money, they generally had plenty to eat. They had dairy products, milk, cheese and butter, chickens for eggs and chicken soup. Pete also worked at the butcher shop for a while to supplement the food.Their house had a big kitchen with an old-fashioned coal stove. Sometimes the upstairs was rented out. When it wasn’t, the boys slept there and were kept warm in the winter in feather beds with large soapstone rocks, warmed on the coal stove, and placed at the foot of their beds.

In many respects, the Halperin and Isaacson families stayed very close. Unfortunately for easy going Joseph Graffman, Elke wasn’t very happy with her peddler husband for he didn’t have “status” a Halperin deserved. Ultimately, in 1930, she left him, taking Benny and Keith with her to live with her son, my father Peter and my family in Lewiston. She only saw Joseph a few times after that. Once when I was five, I went by myself to go see him. I wondered four or five miles, across the bridge and up the hill to the farm. It was Shabbat, a day when there was no school. Bubbie Elke, who was like a mother to me, realized that I was missing. She looked everywhere then realized that I might have gone to see Zaidie. There she found me. It was one of the last times Bubbie Elke saw Zaidie and the last time I saw him. Later when Zaidie was ill, I wanted desperately to go see him at the hospital but Bubbie didn’t agree. Joseph Graffman died in 1933.

Bubbie Elke lived many more years. During the depression, dad bought Bubbie Elke a handsome Alaskan seal coat, which was a wonderful luxury in Maine, where it was so cold. She said, “What will I do with it, Pete?. Where do I go?” He replied, “Wear it where ever you go when it is cold.” After a few winters, and it had been seldom worn, she came into his law office and said, “Pete, my fur coat needs to be remodeled.” Peter lifted his eyebrow, “You have taken such good care of it, what could be wrong?” She replied, “Do you want people to say that Peter Isaacson’s mother wears an old fashioned coat?” After some negotiation, he told her to take it over to the furrier and ask them to send him the bill. Bubbie said, “No, cash and carry...I already know exactly how much it will cost.” She named an extraordinary amount of money, nearly the cost of the coat itself. Over the years, there were several other times when she said she needed money to remodel her coat, usually for a lesser amount of money. After negotiations each time, Peter would comply. Finally, toward the end of her life, when she was ill, he asked her to please tell him, truly, how many times she had remodeled the coat, if ever. She pulled out a black ledger and told him to look in the back of the book. There he discovered a full accounting of the money—names of people who had been ill or needed money to pay rent, bills, or send a child to the Yeshiva.

Elke died at in 1956 at 85 years old. “In those days,” my father Peter said of his parents, “it is not so surprising that my father (at age 36) died young, but rather that my mother should have lived to be 85.”

Kodesh-Halperin:

My Maternal Grandparents

My maternal grandfathers name was Avvram Tzvi Tzon Kodesh,called Hershel or Harry, because Tzvi in Yiddish is Hershel. I asked my uncle Duddy what my grandfather’s original last name meant. Tzon Kodesh in English is the Holy Flock. In the 1800’s, European governments forced Jews to adopt family names. If the family was wealthy they got a good name for a price, such as goldsmith or rosenbloom. If they were poor they were assigned names. When the government official approached the patriach of my family, he was asked what name he wanted. He thought for a couple moments, “Who Am I,” and replied Tzon Kodesh. My grandfathers name was changed to Harry Day. There are multiple stories that describe why this occurred. It may have been when he arrived in the United States in 1900, by an official filling his citizen papers who thought it would be simpler and more American, or four years later, when he filled out his loan papers at the bank to buy his first home.

Grandfather was born on a farm in Horodok, Lithuanian. His family was relatively poor even though they owned their own land. He was the last child in his family, the only son and four years old when his father died. His mother took him to the next village every day to a malamed (teacher) so that he could learn how to say Kadish for his father. He was later sent to a nearby village to live with a family and attend school. It was customary for boys from towns where there were no adequate yeshivas for their educational level to live with other families and pay their room and board by helping with chores during the week, then returning home for the Sabbath. After his father died, an uncle, who lived nearby, looked after the family and farm. The uncle was a very pious, devoutly religious man who wanted Hershel to be a Rabbi. Hershel , a merry-hearted man, had other ambitions even though he was very devoted to his uncle. As his studies progressed, he traveled from village to village. He grew up in a very social world, a world that amused him. He had lots of humor and wit. At 18 years old, he went to yeshiva in Moscow, but his higher education stopped there. He wanted to go to the University, but couldn’t get in both because he was a Jew . He returned home and married Rachel Leah Halperin who he loved. Their parents then arranged a marriage for them.

One of his three sisters was called Hannah Rachel. In order to distinguish between the two sisters-in-law, Bubbie Rachel Leah was thereafter known as Leah. After their marriage, they lived on a small farm that belonged to Hershel’s (Harry’s) mother. Leah had a dowry, which was used to fix up the farm. Hershel (Harry) was not really adapted to farm life, which left the farm management to Leah. He worked as a foreman for a nearby land-owner, supervising forest peasants who cut down wood, and the river transport of the lumber to Germany.

In the following years, Hershel and Leah had five children, Dora (my mother) was the oldest (born 1894), then Israel, Myrim and his twin who died as a baby, and Rose. Hershel and his brother-in-law, Kalman Steinman looked for new opportunities for Jews in the Golden Medina/ America, and then planned a trip to go to America.

Hershel was away from his family for four years, while trying to establish himself as a peddler in the new country. While he was in America, his mother passed away and Leah sold the farm. With their four children, she left for America, settling with him in Auburn, Maine. She brought with her 50 yards of toweling, feather beds and unlike most new immigrants, money which came from the sale of the farm. In later years, Leah and Hershel (Harry) bought a big house in Auburn. They later built three apartments on the property and subsequently built the first gas station in front of the house.

Hershel and Leah had one more child after arriving in America. His name was Donald, nicknamed Duddy. Like his father, Duddy had an exceptional sense of humor.

Though Bubbie Leah understood English and Hershel spoke English when working, they spoke Yiddish at home between themselves. Hershel was very involved in community affairs and helped build a new shul in Auburn.

Leah endured much grief in her life. She lost three children: Meyer’s infant twin, Meyer himself in a driving accident, and her daughter Dora, who died in 1926 from birth complications. (She had painful high-forceps deliveries with all three of her children, Fran, Irving and me). Not long after, another family tragedy occurred. Her youngest son, Duddy, broke his neck diving. He was only 16. When he came up for air the first time he said he was hurt and the cousins that were with him didn't believe him. A stranger believed him and pulled him out. Hershel called an orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Lee in Boston. He drove all night long and knew what to do. Duddy was in traction for a year to heal his neck. He wore a collar for a year or two. He later went to college, even went into the Army and later practiced accounting. He suffered all his life from terrible headaches but lived well into his 60's telling wonderfully funny stories, sometimes in Yiddish to amuse everyone and perhaps to distract himself from pain.

Bubbie Leah emotionally died inside from all the grief, but lived until she was 76, when died of a heart attack. Fran asked Aunt Rose if she had ever heard Grandma Leah laugh. Rose said, "When she was young—and, she even smoked and drank occasionally."

Bubbie Leah left a will, long before the feminist movement,which showed her independence. The was realized from the sale of the farm in Lithuania was used to build the apartments at 238 Minot in Auburn. She was also exceedingly charitable. After her death, her daughter, Rose, tried to open Bubbie’s drawer that was in Zaidie’s safe. Rose couldn’t open it at first so she called Hershel to help her pry it open. He said, “the little jewelry she had was probably in there and maybe some money.” The inheritance that she left was simply a drawer-full of Mitzvas (good deeds), receipts from Tzdokah (charity).

Hershel (Harry) Day died in the 1950’s of lung cancer. I spoke to him on the phone shortly before his death. One of his favorite passion was fishing. His parting quip was absolutely characteristic. “In the summer, I am taking the grandchildren fishing.”

Isaacson-Day: My Parents

After my dad, Peter Isaacson, was out of high school, he went to work for his cousin, Joe Lempert, in a jewelry store. He married my mother, Dora Day, in 1913. Peter and Dora were first cousins and had known each most of their lives (Dora was one year older). Dora gave birth to her first two children, Fran and Irving in 1915 and 1916. My mother was very stylish and was said to be a lovely lady. She wore big fancy hats and beautiful dresses, which she often sewed.

They moved to Bath in 1919, where dad worked in Zaidie Day's bottling business. It was during the country's pre-coca-cola years and their company was appealing to the sweet tooth of thousands of Americans. The business was so successful that it employed several relatives.

Not everything went so well. During the years in Bath, they bought a Maxwell car, brought it home and put it in the garage. The next day dad’s shiny new automobile was stolen...it was years before he bought another car. Then he bought a dog with a warning not to take it out until it was familiar with the family...the dog ran away the next day. Dora’s brother, Meyer, lost his life in 1922, in a car accident on the way back from Bath to Auburn. The tire came off the auto he was driving, he hit a tree and died shortly thereafter in the hospital. Zaidie, whose grief was so great, never again drove a car.

My parents, Fran and Irving returned to Auburn and moved in with Bubbie and Zaidie Day while dad studied law. He never finished high school and nor did he go to college, but he was very bright. He studied law on his own and apprenticed with a local lawyer. Dad passed the bar exam on his first try in 1924.

My mother died in 1926 from peritonitis shortly after I was born. Dad and his three children moved into one of Bubbie Elke Graffman’s apartments in Auburn. Bubbie had already raised two families, with two husbands and now found herself with two young children and an infant.

There were few lawyers in the late 1920's in Maine. Dad specialized in doing civil cases then later became a corporate lawyer. Thereafter, an established lawyer, Louis Brann, took dad into his law office and together they formed a Brann Isaacson Law Practice.

In 1931, Louis Brann ran for governor and dad handled his campaign. Victorious, Brann became Maine’s first democratic governor (Maine had been republican for 100 years). During these depression years, Governor Brann asked President Roosevelt to put dad in charge of reopening the banks in Maine and he became a receiver and successful banker. Later dad was the Chairman of Lewiston Trust Company (later named Key Bank).

Dad was a successful entrepreneur who invested in the Auburn Heel Company which he managed. He went in to the heal factory every day in addition to his busy law practice. They innovated plastic resin heals which originally were turned on a lathe. These heels sold for $2-$3 a pair. In later years, his factory created heels from molds. When heel styles changed in the United States, he opened a heel factory in Montreal, where the styles were about two years behind in order to make further use of the exceedingly expensive molds.

In 1938 (the year Hitler marched into Austria) dad married Dorris Westall. a handsome young woman who was a professional journalist for the Portland Press Herald. Irving was already at law school, Fran was in France working in an all girl's school. Shirley at 12 was in the 8th grade.

Dad, Dorris and I lived in a house in Lewiston in the winter. They spent summers at a beautiful stone home in Popham, located on the Kennebec River. During WWII a fort from WWI was re-activated on the hills above the edge of the property. The estate included several acres, a pond on the property and large vegetable and flower gardens. The house was built with rounded stones and there was a separate garage with a caretakers house above.

New Beginnings and Marriages

When things began to heat up in Europe prior to WWII, dad asked Fran to come home from France. Before returning to the states, she married her Bates College boyfriend and long-time friend, Herbert Miller, who had gone to England to meet her.

Irving met Jutka when the war was over. He was a Captain at the time (later promoted to Major) and had been all over Europe in the OSS. In Germany, he stopped by the Jewish Agency to help the Jews who had been liberated. He was taken by her handsome beauty and married her shortly thereafter.

I met my husband, Dan Nadel, when he was an expert Cannoneer for the army. (more about this time period in Dan’s story). His unit had fired on a German sub off the coast. One of the results of the blast was to blow out the windows in the Popham estate. When Dan came to apologize to the Isaacsons, he was elated to find out there was a Jewish family living at Popham. When he saw the beautiful vegetable gardens at the estate he asked Peter is he could help him out in the gardens. Dad agreed.

It was springtime and I was still in school in Lewiston. For months, Dan didn’t know anything about me. He came to the house to work in the gardens when he had free time. Dad would work during the week in Lewiston and brought kosher deli food home on the weekends to share with Dan.

One day, as a favor to the Army Chaplain, Dan was practicing Christmas music on the organ at the library when it was being used as a temporary church. Dan was the only one in his company who both played the organ (by ear) and knew Christian hymns. I was in the library looking for a book. Dan volunteered to help me find it, then later asked me out for ice cream. They we went to Spinney’s. When we got there, Dan realized he didn’t have any money, I had a dime and paid for the two cones. (To this day, he owes her 10 cents.) Dan said that he thought I looked like she could be the daughter of Peter Isaacson, so asked if I lived at the Stone house. He was doubly elated to discover that he had met a Jewish girl and told me that he had been helping my father in the gardens at the house. When we met, I fifteen and Dan was 21. For some tim, Dan treated me like a sister. When he was assigned to Europe, I sent him her graduation photo (on the cover), and he carried it every where he went. We wrote to each other during the war and afterwards Dan drove to Maine and asked my father for my hand in marriage. Dad agreed only if I completed my college education. So we became engaged and waited two years while I got my degree at the University of Wisconsin in Madison. We married in 1947 and had our wedding ceremony in the gardens at Popham.

Over the years there was many family get-togethers at the Stone House in Popham. Especially remembered were the Thanksgiving dinners. A long table graced with a immense chandelier from the Boston Opera Company greeted the family, along with lots of food and an elaborate display of flowers. Other than the usual Thanksgiving dishes, Doris made petit fours and pies for dessert. Wine was served in beautiful crystal goblets. At the end of the dining room was a large mirror...a sight to behold. In the living room, next to the fireplace was a massive 3' bowl filled with popcorn. Dorris told the children to go look in the popcorn for the presents hidden therein. It was probably the only presents the children ever got other saving bonds to teach them about money.

Over time, dynamics changed within the family as members started to move away from each other or pass away. Dad died in 1980 and Doris continued to live in Potham until her death in 1990.