This is Sunday morning. I peddled my bike to the nearby Jewish Deli, DZ Akins. I had a yearning for Knackwurst and eggs. And DZ Akins is the only nearby place where this item is on the menu.
I brought my MacBook Air computer with me so that I could watch the movie, "Fiddler On The Roof" during my breakfast. This "Fiddler" story is similar to the story of my own family. My family all came from the same part of Russia as in this story. My family members were all hounded the same as the "Fiddler's" family.
There is no reason why my family members back in those long ago times of the early 1900s were hounded. Their homes burned down. People beaten up. That was the way it was. And if the truth were known, that may be the way it is today. Maybe not everywhere today. But in lots of places.
I came to DZ Akins so that I might be able to get closer to my family members now departed. To remember the stories my grandfather told me about his times as a young boy and young man. How he made the decision to leave Russia and make a new home in America. My grandfather went ahead of his wife and baby boy, and walked hundreds of miles to the Port of Bremen in Germany where he boarded a ship to New York City.
From New York City he made his way to Cleveland, Ohio where a few family members of mine had emigrated. There he found employment as a blacksmith. About a year later, my grandmother made the crossing with her young son and new baby daughter [my mother].
It's very important for me to think of these things. To remember our family history so that it will not be forgotten.