Clattering Sparrows (17 page)

21

FOR MANY, THE PICTURESQUE images of New England dairy farms on the byways of rural towns conjure up memories of bygone youth and happier innocent times. The red barns, the silos, the men and children peddling milk and dairy products house to house with a horse-drawn cart or old Ford truck, combine to paint a beautiful picture in one’s mind of a tradition almost as old as America itself. Everywhere you looked, there were fields of brown and white Herefords and dotted Swiss, black and white Holsteins grazing contentedly behind stonewall fences.

Three weeks after leaving Ukraine by train, Leon Frankel arrived in Boston aboard the Aquitania. As the ship pulled into Boston Harbor, he bowed his head and thanked God for his safe arrival.

Leon’s uncles had provided him with second-class passage, and since first and second-class passengers were not detained like those who traveled in steerage, he waited on deck as the ship slowly inched its way to the dock. He had been given a cursory examination and processed through immigration aboard ship without any problems, but the officer processing his papers misread his name, and Leon Frankel became Leon Franklin. As he stepped foot onto American soil, his Aunt Malka and Uncle Saul were there to meet him, and welcomed him with open arms. They owned a dairy farm in Somerville near Cambridge, and since Leon had been raised on a dairy farm, his four uncles and aunt decided that it would be a good place for him to begin his life in America. Of his father’s four brothers, two lived in New York, and the other two in Washington, D.C. His aunt, the brothers’ only sister married Saul Kaplan whose family owned the large dairy farm.

After the long hard trip, Leon was happy to be in America. His aunt and uncle had taken care of everything. Malka had even enrolled him in night school to learn to read and write English. She instilled in him the importance of fitting in and not remaining a greenhorn, but above all else to become a United States citizen. They took him shopping for clothes and necessities, and for the first time in his life, he had a room to himself. Since Malka and Saul had no children of their own, Leon soon became their surrogate son.

He loved America and everything about it. The open space, the air so fresh and clean, and the food so plentiful were all new to him. No longer fearful of his wellbeing, he arose each day to his aunt’s promise of a better tomorrow, although he couldn’t fathom things getting much better than they already were.

The first letter he wrote to his family in Ukraine was pages long. He briefly told of his trip to Warsaw where he boarded the ship, but the remaining pages described the beautiful farm, Malka and Saul, and that he was learning to read and write English. He ended the letter by urging his father and brother to consider coming to America. He offered to work hard and send them the money.

Weeks passed and upon receiving no response, he subsequently wrote three additional letters to which he also received no response. Months later at his urging, his uncles contacted the post office in the small town near their farm. They received a package containing Leon’s unopened letters, and a note relating what had befallen the entire Frankel family. The note further stated with no uncertainty that everyone had been killed. Not knowing otherwise, Leon assumed that his brother had already returned home and was killed as well.

With sadness in his heart, he moved on. He firmly believed that fate and God’s intervention had brought him to America to an aunt and uncle who loved him, and he was determined to make a good life for himself.

Saul taught him every possible aspect of running the dairy farm. In contrast, their farm in Ukraine was quite small and family run. His uncle’s farm was a wholesale farm that employed many laborers. Each year, as profits grew, they added to their herd until the fifty-five acre farm with a herd of one hundred cows began selling milk to dairies in neighboring New England states and various large farms in western Massachusetts. In the beginning one processing truck came to their farm every day and processed 40-quart cans. However, as time went on, these daily visits were replaced by less frequent ones when large refrigerated tanker trucks became available, allowing the farm to grow and expand further.

After Leon had been in America for a few years, he met and married Rose Fisher. He finished night school years earlier, became an American citizen, and he felt he could now afford a wife and family. As a wedding present, Saul and Malka built them a house on the farm acreage and in time, they became the proud parents of three children, two boys and a girl. Life was good, and he regularly continued to thank God for his blessings, although justifying in his mind why he was chosen to be the sole survivor of his entire family continued to elude him.

The farm was doing extremely well, and by now, Leon was completely in charge of the daily operations. With time on their hands, Malka and Saul often traveled to Washington, D.C. and New York to visit relatives. With the birth of many cousins the family grew quite extended and close. Leon and his family traveled to visit them, as well, and they in turn frequently visited the farm.

On the occasion of Leon’s eldest son Aaron’s Bar Mitzvah, the relatives came from New York and Washington, D.C. to Boston for the celebration. From the Saturday morning services at Congregation Beth Israel in Cambridge, followed by the Oneg Shabbat luncheon and the formal dinner dance Saturday night, it was yet another dream come true for Leon. On Sunday, before everyone was due to leave for home, they were all gathered at the farm for lunch. When the table had been cleared, Leon brought in a surprise dessert—homemade ice cream that he had made from his mother’s recipe in Ukraine.

He related the story of how one cold winter evening his mother placed a dish before them that held a creamy cold dessert that was absolutely delicious. Combining cream, sugar, eggs, and salt for cooling, she placed the ingredients in the butter churner agitating them into a creamy sweet mixture. She then added several cups of snow and continued churning until it was fully blended. When she was satisfied with the texture, she scooped the mixture into a large deep bowl, and placed the dish outdoors in the cold to freeze until she was ready to serve it.

Her homemade ice cream—which she called
frozen snow cream
—was served for every special occasion after that.

***

Several years after World War II, farming began a slow decline. But as the owners of these strategically located parcels of property were coerced into selling by overly generous offers for their land, the decline picked up momentum. Urban developers looking to expand to the suburbs eyed the farm acreage with greed. With each parcel of land they acquired, they delivered extended towns, complete with bigger and better shopping facilities and unlimited amenities, surrounded by endless housing, all of which would ultimately fill their pockets continuously for many years to come.

As dairy farming began its downward trend and major shifts in the industry took place, sales and production fell, and dairy farming suddenly became unprofitable. As the industry continued to suffer in its struggle to survive, many of the farmers placed the blame on the ever increasing federal regulations and high real estate taxes. When legislation was passed that guaranteed farmers government-purchase of their surplus milk, the situation proved disastrous. The latest law fell far short of a solution, by merely providing many farmers a crutch that allowed them to run inefficient farms, while the government kept them artificially afloat but on the brink of eventual collapse for years.

Although their wholesale farm was not financially in trouble, business had declined in recent years and offers for their fifty-five acres abounded. Simply put, their acreage in Somerville near Cambridge was worth millions, and there were many who were willing to pay it.

Several weeks after the relatives had left and things returned to normal, Malka and Saul, who had given a lot of thought to the latest offer for their land, approached Leon with a proposal. He knew they had received many offers for the farm in recent years because they had discussed each and every one with him, but their latest offer was unprecedented. They had already turned over the daily operations to Leon and began thinking of moving south where the weather was kinder to the aches and pains of old age.

They had long ago made arrangements to leave the dairy farm to Leon. Having no children of their own, in all probability, they would have sold it by this point in their lives if he had not been there to run it. When Leon served the ice cream to the family that fateful day, it sparked a thought in their minds. When their cursory research indicated the great potential of their idea, they proceeded cautiously with their plan. When all the facts and figures were in place, Malka and Saul presented their proposal at length to Leon and Rose, who enthusiastically accepted their generous offer, and the wheels were set in motion.

In less than five years, Franklin Farms Creamery became well known throughout New England, not only for their delicious homemade ice cream, but for the many unique flavors they offered. In addition, their products were carried in local grocery chains, and they were about to open their first location in New York. Their family was doing well, the business continued to expand and prosper, and the children were growing into fine young adults.

Aunt Malka and Uncle Saul retired to Florida after selling the farm, but continued to come north to visit as often as they could and for each and every special occasion.

***

In 1989 to celebrate Leon’s 80
^th
birthday, his family threw a big party for him and introduced a new flavor—
Chocolate Snow Cream
—in his honor to mark the milestone event. The cousins came from all over, some as far west as California. The aunts and uncles had all long since passed away, and he was their only link left to Ukraine. Many urged him to chronicle an account of his life story for future generations of the family, and his youngest granddaughter, Leah, eagerly offered to help.

Her involvement in writing her grandfather’s life story piqued her interest in anything and everything she could learn about Ukraine. When the special on the Chernobyl disaster was announced, she made certain that she would be watching. Her grandfather had been born on the family farm located in that general area, and although she knew he no longer had relatives there, she was interested nevertheless.

While packing to move to her new apartment, she watched the first hour of the program with little interest. Most of the stories were distressing, and there were no happy endings.

When the second hour of the show began, she became mesmerized by Irina’s story. She stopped what she was doing and sat down to give her full attention to the show. For the remainder of the program she did not leave her chair, even during commercials, for fear that she would miss something. As the show continued and similarities to her grandfather’s story unfolded, her heart began to pound, and her thoughts grew rampant. Could this possibly be her grandfather’s family? Though she knew that wasn’t likely, since they had all been killed, she felt powerless to extricate herself from what she was hearing.

As the broadcast drew to a close and Irina revealed the name of her uncle, Leon Frankel, Leah froze. Fortunately, she had recorded the program.

Suddenly the shrill ring of the phone jolted her back to reality. It was her father Aaron calling to tell her he too had seen the show. The following day, they would learn that several other family members had viewed it as well.

22

SINCE CELEBRATING HIS 80
^TH
birthday two years before, Leon’s life remained basically unchanged. He no longer had an active part in running the business. His two sons had taken over years before, and several of the grandchildren were also now a part of the daily operations. Franklin Farms Creamery continued to move forward and expand beyond its New England borders. His Avalon apartment in downtown Boston at the Prudential Center suited him perfectly. He loved the City and enjoyed the theatre and dining at the many excellent restaurants in the area. Although Rose had passed away almost five years before, he was doing fine living alone. He had all his faculties about him; his health was good; and he was quite active walking several miles a day, weather permitting. He purchased a red Mercedes convertible, and weekends would often find him heading up to Newton, Brookline, and Wellesley to visit his children and grandchildren.

He had a good rapport with his eight grandchildren and they often visited him or dined with him when they were in Boston. On the Friday following the broadcast of Unsolved Mysteries, he had plans for dinner with his youngest granddaughter, Leah. When she called and told him that she would be in the City on Friday, he made reservations at Top of the Hub on the 52
^nd
floor of the Prudential Center, and he was meeting her there at 6:00 pm.

When Leon walked into the restaurant, Leah was waiting for him. He hugged her and kissed her, and after they were seated at his usual table overlooking the Charles River, he asked, “What brings you to Boston especially on a Friday night?”

Leah smiled, “First of all, I wanted to see my favorite Gramps, but I also have something I want to discuss with you, and something I want to show you. However, I’m really starved, and if you have no objections, I’d like to order first.”

Leon laughed, “The way you eat you should be twice your size, but you’re thin like your grandmother. My Rosie always looked like a million bucks! Five years have passed since she died, and sometimes it seems as though she’s going to walk into the room at any moment. I still talk to her, you know. I tell her what’s going on with all of you and how Franklin Creamery is doing. I even tell her about the new flavors we produce but don’t think me crazy, it’s my way of easing the pain of missing her. It comforts me to tell her what’s going on with our family.”

Leah smiled to herself. Though he was an octogenarian, Gramps was so cool. He was into all the latest music and fads, and his grandchildren and great-grandchildren adored him and readily related to him—at times more so than to their own parents. When Granny Rose died, he was so sad, and the family worried that he wouldn’t get over losing her. But after a time, he was Gramps again and any changes in him were for the better.

During the summer months, Leon left Boston and retreated to their home on the Cape. He had built the large house in Chatham many years before, and each June, Rose would leave for the shore with the children as soon as the school year was over. He would come down for long weekends or a full week here and there. His grandchildren eagerly looked forward to summers there as well, particularly when he took them over to Martha’s Vineyard or Nantucket on his cabin cruiser, that at the children’s suggestion, he named
Double Scoop
.

Their conversation during dinner was mainly about Leah and moving into her new apartment. They both declined dessert, but over coffee, Leon said, “You haven’t mentioned what you wanted to speak with me about, and my curiosity is getting the best of me. And didn’t you say you have something you want to show me?”

“Gramps I’ve got something to tell you that I see as nothing short of a miracle. Do you believe in miracles?”

“Of course I do. You know the story of my coming to America and what happened to my family in Ukraine. I’ve always felt that my coming here was indeed nothing short of a miracle. Meeting and marrying your grandmother, raising our children and watching them grow into fine adults, greatly enhanced my belief in miracles then and continues to do so now. I plan to enjoy my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren for as many years to come as the good Lord grants me. My life has turned out better than I ever dared to dream possible.

“When my aunt and uncle sold their farm and set me up in the ice cream business, which was all based on my mother’s unique recipe, I attributed our success to my original miracle, and the angels God sent to watch over me. You know the story well and thanks to you, generations of Franklins to come will learn it too.”

Leah suddenly became serious. “You’ve been blessed with yet another miracle far beyond what you could have ever dared to imagine. Why don’t we pay the check, go to your apartment, and I will explain it all to you.”

***

As they rode the elevator to Leon’s apartment, they held hands. This simple gesture of love evoked fond memories of her childhood excursions with Gramps, who would walk so fast that he had to hold her by the hand so she could keep up with him.

They entered the apartment and declining any refreshment, Leah began giving Leon an overview of the show before slipping the edited tape into the VCR. She had deleted the commercials and the first hour of the program, so the tape would play only the uninterrupted interview. Side-by-side they sat watching as Irina’s story unfolded. Glancing over at him from time to time, she noticed tears in his eyes, and once she saw the start of a smile on his lips, but neither spoke until the tape’s end.

The VCR clicked off, but Leon continued to sit outwardly unemotional on the sofa as he absorbed what he had just seen. The name Leon Frankel had ceased to be his many years before, and for the first time in as many years he learned that his brother, Murray, who had taken him to the train station, had indeed returned home after the brutal massacre of their entire family.

Not wanting to disturb his thoughts, Leah walked over to the VCR and rewound the tape.

Gradually Leon relaxed. “Leah will you please get me a drink? I’ll have a shot of whiskey over ice.”

She brought him his drink and sat down next to him on the sofa. She noticed he was crying, his tears freely rolling down his face. “I can’t imagine what you are feeling and thinking. I know you tried to find your family, but after hearing Irina’s story, we now know why you didn’t know your brother had survived. If it’s any consolation, it appears he had a reasonably good life and a new family that loved him.”

As Leah held him in her arms he cried for all the lost years of not knowing his brother was alive, for not being able to bring him to America, and for his lifelong lingering doubts, rendering him unable to justify why God had so truly blessed Leon Frankel, a humble Jewish farm boy from Ukraine.

When he finally composed himself, he asked Leah to replay the tape. When Irina’s story came to the part where Murray returned to find the farm burned to the ground and his family slaughtered, he asked her to rewind it and run it anew. As he watched again and again, searching her face for any family resemblance, he hung on her every word as if he could have changed what happened.

At last when the tape had once again ended, he spoke of the other part of her story. “If Irina had not discovered the American in the snow, we may never have learned of her existence or that Murray had survived.”

“I thought the very same thing when I watched the show the other night. However, she cleverly included her father’s story, even though it has no bearing on finding the American pilot’s family, and I feel that she purposely did that so she could find you.

“I’m sure there would have been little, if any, interest on the part of the Unsolved Mysteries crew, nor any other American contacts she might have made, to find a long lost relative who immigrated to the United States in the late 1920s. I think she did that for her father whose wish had always been to reach out to his family here in the States.

“However, searching for the family of a missing pilot is quite another matter. I would imagine that the phone has probably been ringing off the hook by now both from family and friends, not to mention the United States Navy claiming one of their own.”

“What do you propose we should do? Of course, I must see her and meet with her, and help her any way we can. We will get the best medical help available, but we must also tell the family.”

Leah smiled, “Well, I would think most if not all of our immediate family knows by now. Daddy saw the show too, and I spoke to him shortly after it ended. Uncle Steven and some of the cousins also saw the show, and I’m sure the word has spread. They know I planned to have dinner with you tonight and show you the tape.

“We all agree that you probably would like to meet with her first, and then we can get together as a family. There are quite a few of us, and we certainly don’t want to overwhelm her. She’s been through hell, and we want to make sure that from here on out only good things come into her life. She certainly deserves them.”

Leon’s mind was racing. He had not been as invigorated in years. “That’s good. I think I would like to meet with my niece alone first, and let us not forget, I have a nephew too, her brother Yuri in Kiev. On second thought, I would like you to accompany me. Just the two of us would be perfect.”

Leon refused Leah’s offer to call on his behalf. He alone would contact the Unsolved Mysteries Phone Center and set up the meeting with Irina.

***

The next morning Leon rose early, dressed, and went for his usual morning stroll around Boston. He walked to Boston Common and through the Public Garden. He found a bench overlooking the lagoon where the Swan Boats sat waiting for the day’s visitors and sat down. In his mind, he contemplated what he was going to say when he placed his call to the show’s phone center.

He wanted to meet with her as soon as possible and hoped that she had not already left for Maryland. He and Leah would catch the train at South Station in Boston to New York’s Penn Station, and stay in his 500 Park Tower Apartment at East 59
^th
and Park Avenue. Going by train would bring them right into Manhattan, and in the long run would be quicker than flying.

Pleased with his plans, he began his walk back to the Avalon stopping only at Starbucks for a bagel and coffee. Leah was right. He truly had been granted another miracle. He whistled as he walked briskly with an added spring to his step. For the first time in years he had a mission. Although he thoroughly enjoyed being retired and never regretted turning the Creamery over to his children to run, it felt good to once again orchestrate what could possibly become his greatest undertaking to date. He was thankful that God had blessed him with good health, long life, and the means and ability to help Irina. As he continued towards the Prudential Center, anyone observing him would never have guessed his age.