Page 152 - The Legacy of Abraham Rothstein - text

Marriage and departure

skeptical about American men. He wanted a passport from me. I did
not have any relatives in this country, and with no background, a man
is apt to be an impostor or a seducer. Like other fathers, he
outwardly did not show a great affection for his children, like a
mother does, but inwardly liked his children more than their mother
did. He wanted to know my parents. The thing to do was to write my
parents; I did, and they wrote to the Cohens, and everything became
agreeable to him.
It is customary in this country—and in others—for the fiancé to
give the girl a ring; in this country, especially, a diamond ring. In
Europe, it is also the custom to give a dowry with the bride.
Fortunately, my prospective wife’s parents were not well-to-do, and
since I was of the same class, we got along very well, without any
jewelry to show off to the few friends we had. Many times in married
life later on, my wife lamented about never having a diamond for her
engagement or her wedding, but I was always successful in showing
her the two lovely daughters who shined to us more brightly than any
diamonds, and with five grandchildren surrounding us, it was more
happiness than all the diamonds could give us. Our love, as I said
before, was prosaic and simple, without the romanticism and poetical
affectations that books prescribe. So was our wedding: no
bridesmaids, no bridal veil, no bouquets of flowers, and no wedding
march.
Our marriage took place in the house of Fannie’s aunt. I had no
relatives or close friends or even acquaintances; I had never belonged
to a club or any close-knit organization, and Fannie’s parents did not
have the means to hire a hall and spend money on all that goes with
it, although they did belong to a society and had friends and some
relatives. The affair had a minyan of men and about the same number
of women, with a home-cooked dinner. From my side there were two
countrymen. A rabbi performed the ceremony. We were married on
May second, nineteen hundred and eight, a Thursday, and left New
York two days later on a steamer for New Orleans.
I had already experienced parting from my parents and brothers
and sisters when I escaped from military service in Russia. To my
relatives, my leaving had the same effect as burying me, for they
knew they would never see me again. To me, it left unforgettable
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