Yiddishe Mamas (26 page)

R
ebels, groundbreakers, and greatness. Some of these Jewish mothers and their stories are well-known. But too often our history and lives are given short-shrift, or ignored in popular media, yet many of these Jewish mothers shaped and literally changed the world we live in.

J
ewish pioneer men have been well documented. However, the struggles and hardships that Jewish pioneer mothers faced, as they brought their menorahs from Europe to the frontiers of America, have been far less recorded and remembered.

Keeping a Jewish home only added to the difficulties that these women faced. Yet they did it with great dedication, strength, and dignity, often contributing mightily to the growth and development of what was then the far outreaches of the American West.

Women, in particular, through determination and activism, created many cultural institutions. They were central in organizing schools and building the first synagogues on the frontier—starting the grassroots of Jewish life in the Southwest and other parts of the country.

In the nineteenth century, most Jews who lived west of the Mississippi River came from Germany, Austria, Poland, France, and Russia. Some also migrated from the East to the West. A small number of Jewish merchants and traders settled in Texas in the 1820s and 1830s and in New Mexico in the 1840s when these
territories were still part of Mexico. After the discovery of gold in California in 1848 and the completion of the transcontinental railroads in the late 1800s, Jews, as well as others, moved West in search of greater freedom and opportunities.

In particular, Jewish pioneers found open societies in the far West with few restrictions.

Some observances became difficult to exercise in the wilderness for Jewish mothers, and enormous resourcefulness was required to remain kosher. Many would, for example, grow their own vegetables or raise cows and other livestock.

Keeping two sets of dishes and cookware to separate meat from dairy was not an easy task for the kosher pioneer Jewish mother, yet many packed the necessary items in advance of their westward journey. Still, holidays, such as Passover, proved a problem.

“When we got ready for Passover, we even scrubbed the door knobs. We had a library with books in it. For Passover, my mother made me go through every one of those books, shake them out, God forbid someone would be reading a book a crumb would fall out,” reported Seymour Siegel in 1959, when he quoted from the journal of a young Jewish girl in Mesa.

Jewish roots are deeply embedded in the history of the Arizona Territory. These mothers not only kept Jewish homes, but they also aided their husbands in business, mining, ranching, banking, and trade.

Clara Ferrin-Bloom was born in Tucson on July 26, 1881. She graduated from the University of Arizona in 1901, became a teacher, and married merchant David Bloom in 1912. They had three sons and two daughters. Clara was a member of the university’s Alumni Association, a founder of the board of the Tucson Women’s Symphony Association, as well as a member of the National Council of Jewish Women, and the Tucson Festival Society. She was the oldest member of Temple Emanu-El when she died.

The Clara-Ferrin Bloom Elementary School was established in 1973. Her son David and his wife created the superb Bloom Southwest Jewish Archives at the University of Arizona.

Rosa Katzenstein was born in Baltimore on January 6, 1848 and married Philip Drachman in New York in 1868. “There they were, these Jewish women in the middle of nowhere,” says Dr. Eileen Warshaw, executive director of the Jewish Heritage Center of the Southwest. “It took them three months to prepare to go into the wilderness. They finally departed for Tucson on October 21, 1868, after the Holy days, traveling ‘in style,’ by hitching a four-horse ambulance. It took them forever, what with camping across the desert among the Indians. They traveled twenty-five miles per day, finally arriving in Tucson on November 15, 1868.

“There were Anglo men, but only one other white woman. Rosa was so excited that she named her first child Harry Arizona Drachman, the first Anglo child born in the area. She subsequently had ten children.

“She had a hard, hard life. Her husband, Philip, owned a saloon and cigar store. He died leaving her with the kids. So … this Yiddishe mama ran a saloon and cigar store with her kids.”

Rosa became the confidante of the new influx of women. Jewish men, who had married Mexican women, asked her to
teach them how to make challah, light the candles, and teach their children Judaism. Rosa died on July 25, 1918. Her tombstone reads: “Mother Drachman,” for the matriarch who helped build Tucson’s community. The Tucson branch of Drachmans continued to be involved in community and business ventures in the area.

Rosa’s sister-in-law, Jennie Migel-Drachman, was born in 1859 in Russia, and was the daughter of a California Jewish merchant. At seventeen, she married Samuel Drachman, of Tucson. The couple remained there for thirty-seven years, raising four children. They both held very strong religious beliefs.

“Sam Drachman took the role of acting rabbi, although he didn’t have the education or certifications,” says Dr. Warshaw. “So he married and buried people—with no authority. In 1887, their son was the first male child in Tucson whose circumcision was performed by a
mohel.
Where would you find one in those days? California!”

However, according to Jewish law, the circumcision must take place on the eighth day after birth. Oy. Getting to California was a seven-day trip.

“Jennie gives birth at noon. The next morning, Sam puts her on a stage to California. Remember, in those days there were no paved roads, just rutted paths … Indians. This woman was on the stage with her baby …
feeding him
on the stage,” describes Dr. Warshaw.

“Jennie would meet the new stages, welcome, and help newcomers. She would care for the children, and was very helpful in the smallpox epidemic (1877-1878).

“Though there wasn’t much money, Jenny loved society and music, organizing the first Purim Ball in Tucson,” says Dr. Warshaw.

In 1886, the
Tucson Citizen
described the first Purim Ball Jennie helped plan as: “The most brilliant social event in the history of Tucson.” While Jennie was active in the Hebrew Ladies Benevolent Society, her husband was the first president of Temple Emanu-El. Today the Drachman name appears on a street, a school, and the Drachman Institute at the University of Arizona.

Jennie died in 1927 at the age of sixty-eight. This couple was instrumental in keeping Judaism alive in the desert Southwest.

According to Harold I. Sharfman, there were three Jewish households who lived in Nogales, Arizona. The wives would often lend food or other necessities to their Jewish neighbors. They helped each other when in need and celebrated the holidays together. It was this strong Jewish bond that allowed these families to hold onto their heritage, which was critical in maintaining a vibrant Jewish community.

Sophie Kaufman (Cohen) was an early Jewish Arizona settler and a force to be reckoned with, says her son-in-law Sig Liberman, president of the League of Arizona Cities and Towns, who was the only Jewish council mayor in Arizona (1968-1972).

Sig’s wife, Rose Lee Liberman, one of two daughters of Charles and Sophie Kaufman Cohen, was born in Tucson in 1926 and grew up in the Wild West. “My wife’s family, the Kaufmans,” says Sig, now retired in Texas, “was born in Russia. After coming to America, they eventually moved to Arizona.” It was love at first sight between his wife’s parents, Sophie Kaufman and Charles Cohen. After the couple married, they both worked with her father, Mr. Kaufman.

“But Sophie was the big
macher
(big shot) who learned Spanish and two Indian dialects to help her Dad run the store. Sophie, the first female graduate of the University of Arizona’s School of Business in Tucson, was family-first business-oriented, loving, witty, protective, and into everything. She started the Rainbow Girls, a group that was involved with education and entertainment for both the Jewish and non-Jewish population,” says Sig.

The small store expanded into the famous Kaufman’s Department Store. The family prospered with the Kaufman’s Spanish movie theater and became very successful in real estate. They also contributed property and helped develop the local synagogue.

In 1929, the Cohens moved to Coolidge, Arizona, where they opened another store. They were the first Jews in the area and closed their stores on Jewish holidays.

“Every once in a while there was trouble with red necks. But the Indians loved my mother-in-law, Sophie, and were eager to trade with her. During the holidays, they returned to Tucson to be with family and other Jews,” he says.

Solomonville, located in the Gila Valley in Graham County northeast of Tucson, Arizona, owes a great debt to Anna and her husband Isidor Solomon.

Anna Freudenthal was born in Poland in 1845 and was “one tough lady,” says Dr. Warshaw. She had survived cholera and smallpox. When her father left for America, thirteen-year-old Anna assumed his duties in Poland: She ran his store and took care of five siblings, and her mother, who never recovered from smallpox. She married Isidor Solomon and then immigrated to Pennsylvania with their three small children. In 1876, Isidor sold his assets to seek freighting opportunities in the West. Since traveling with three very young children in a crowded stagecoach
was daunting, Isidor left his family in Las Cruces while he found a place for them to settle in Pueblo Viejo (later Solomonville in what would become the Arizona Territory). They headed to their new home in a two-seat buckboard hearing coyote calls or Indians on the warpath at night. Anna doubted they’d make it to their destination alive.

What greeted them in Pueblo Viejo, in the upper Gila Valley, was “a raw little place in the middle of nowhere,” says Dr. Warshaw. “There was no law, no refinement. When Anna arrived in 1876, she was an oddity, as there were so few females out there.”

Anna later recalled, “We had some very dark and sad times.” But their future brightened. Anna’s family owned the Clifton Mining Company, and contracted with Solomon to deliver charcoal. Anna attended to the store they purchased, which had the only safe in the area. Farmers and miners stored their money there, and eventually, banking became the Solomons’ business as well. (Their Valley National Bank was later taken over by Bank One, now Arizona’s largest financial institution.)

Over time, they ran a merchandising and real estate empire, and built the Solomon Hotel. “Anna added that touch of class, insisting on the cowboys having manners,” says Warshaw. “She held dances, Christmas parties, but she stayed a Jew. Her husband was timid and withdrawn, so she stuck a foot up his butt and urged him to form a community.” As their businesses thrived, so did the area, and Anna became known as the Mother of Solomonville. In 1878, mail carrier William H. Kirkland suggested renaming the community Solomonville (today known as Solomon), which was the Graham County seat from 1883 to 1915.

Anna made sure her children married Jews, and the great clan spread to Holbrook, Globe, Phoenix, and Tucson. The Solomons are one of the great Jewish pioneering families of the Southwest, and their legacy still endures in Arizona today.

Julia Frank was born in Germany in 1840 and immigrated as a youngster to New York. At eighteen, she married William Zeckendorf, who was also from Germany. When William went to work with his brothers in New Mexico, then Arizona, the couple honeymooned by train across country. When Julia left San Diego, she was shocked to see her new husband in Western garb—pistols on hips and rifle in hand. The couple relocated to Tucson and had four children. Julia entertained elegantly for the Jewish community. Eventually, they returned to New York, but the Zeckendorf name became part of the historical records of Arizona and New Mexico because of the family’s involvement in merchandising, mining, cattle raising, and farming. Generations of Zeckendorfs then built a real estate empire in New York, and Julia’s grandson, William II, put together the land parcel that John D. Rockefeller donated to the United Nations.