OLD ADDRESSES AND THE MEMORIES THEY HOLD

Nearly all I can remember about my Aunt Fannie’s apartment on the corner of Belmont and Avon Avenues in Newark, New Jersey, is the old black coal stove and the brick exterior with the short front stoop. That’s because it was when I was about five that she moved to Lyons Avenue from the apartment she rented with my grandmother, who died before I was born. Her next housing was across from the well-known Beth Israel Hospital (The Beth) in Newark.

The Lyons Avenue address was her home until festive winter tree lights ignited in the apartment below, where she lived in a two-bedroom on the second floor with a roommate. She roomed with her sister-in-law’s grandaunt (my Aunt Cerna’s Grandaunt Sarah) for about ten years. Her elderly roommate eventually moved to a nursing home, and after the fire displaced my aunt when I was 16, my parents took her in.

As my displaced aunt slowly walked up the stairs sobbing at my parent’s house in Elizabeth, New Jersey, I asked why she started to cry when the fire occurred two weeks earlier. Her surprising reply was that’s when things hit her.

Aunt Fannie’s longtime friend Helen was her landlady on Lyons Avenue. Whether Helen inherited the property or was a self-made single gal remains unclear. I suppose I could ask my brothers.

[Continue scrolling down while reading and enjoying the notes until you get to the Comments Section. Feel free to leave me your thoughts]

Aunt Fannie’s friend/landlady Helen Brussel (my brother Al informed me of her family name) She autographed her photo:: To Fagel With much love—Helen

Looking at a 5” x 7” glossy of Helen in Aunt Fannie’s scrapbook made me wonder if anyone knows of Helen in any of the Facebook groups I follow. Did she attend the famous Weequahic High School in Newark, the East Side class of 1935 with Aunt Fannie, or another?

What added to my curiosity was the other memorabilia Aunt Fannie saved. That included cute, quirky poetry that her friend Helen penned. The fact that Helen addressed my aunt by her Yiddish name Fagle (which Aunt Fannie repeatedly told us means “little bird”) tickled me. The first note, written by Helen, who, as Aunt Fannie, never married, shows she found it disconcerting that men never saw my aunt’s talents.

There was a girl named Fagle—A cook who could whip up a kaegle (kugel) —Her culinary talent was a find — But who’d know, — men are all blind — ‘cause they never looked for Fagle!

The second note was not just funny — it came on a card from Kresge, a popular Newark store of yesteryear. That was another interesting bit of nostalgia.

Just in case I’m not around to help with the dishes — let ‘em drain!! Love, Hel!

I’m marveling at Helen’s penmanship, the fact that she took the time to write clever notes, and, most notably, that Aunt Fannie saved them in a photo album/scrapbook. Who did she expect to someday look at them? She must be smiling down at me while Helen is chuckling.

Dear Fagle! A “Mother’s Day” message its not! Just a gadget for you—-so you’ll know when its Hot!

Aside from Aunt Fannie’s conversations with my parents about Helen, some things I can recall about her Lyons Avenue home include the records she played for us on her Victrola. Those Disney tunes helped to keep us entertained so that the grown-ups could talk. And Aunt Fannie made no bones about letting us know that.

Then, there was the time when the youngest of my three older brothers was stung by a swarm of bees. Poor Stu. It happened while trimming hedges in front of that large, four-family apartment building, and our father ran him right across to the emergency room at The Beth.

From Lyons Avenue, followed by a short-term stay at my parent’s house in Elizabeth, Aunt Fannie moved to a first-floor apartment in a four-family on Liberty Avenue in nearby Hillside, New Jersey. You could see The Beth towering down the street from the front of the half-brick-faced, half-clapboard apartment house, first owned by Mr. Yeager, who then sold to Mr. Black.

The landlord in Aunt Fannie’s new abode at that earlier time was a Holocaust Survivor and the father of three daughters. Two of his daughters were dating and later married two of my coworkers. It seems the connections never end.

Do old addresses bring you special memories? Hopefully, you’re all enjoying some of mine. Possibly some of my readers recognize the name of the Augusta Berns Studio and the address at 15 W. Park Street, Newark, New Jersey, stamped on the back of the 5” x 7” of Helen. Maybe they remember some of the people I’ve named.

One little blog post can recap the most minute memories and add a legacy for forgotten people and places. Uncovering Aunt Fannie’s memorabilia was fascinating, and I’m happy to share the memories and give valued people and places their due.