Page 275 - The Legacy of Abraham Rothstein - text
P. 275

Reminiscences

        could have everything he left behind. I have no idea what happened
        to  any  of  those  things.  My  friend  was  young,  and  probably  sold
        anything of value. Abe had told my mother that he didn’t me to have
        a lot of stuff, and that’s the main reason I didn’t get anything. But I
        fussed and fussed, and finally he let me keep one coconut head, just
        “as an example.” He  didn’t think they were  that important.  I took
        what I considered to be the best one. I think at some point his source
        of coconuts with large husks dried up, and he couldn’t get any more
        to work on.
           I’d stop by his place on Orange Street to see him, and see Ben,
        too. I’d take him shopping, and sometimes he’d make me dinner—
        boiled  potatoes.  During  the  day  he  acted  as  Ben’s  manager  of  the
        apartments,  and  he  would  also  be  carving  and  writing  letters.  He
        would have me photograph his carvings; in fact, ever since we lived
        on 48th Street he would bring them over for me to photograph.
           When the Moon went out, he bought a 1947 Oldsmobile; I don’t
        know how old it was at that time. When I came out of the army, he
        taught me how to drive and helped me buy a car—I think I paid forty
        or fifty dollars for it, a 1941 Buick Dynaflow. After that car threw a
        rod, I needed to get out to Barham Boulevard on a job, and I asked
        him if I could use his car—I could drive it because I had learned to
        drive on it. His car threw a rod on the freeway. I didn’t know it at the
        time,  but  he  hadn’t  changed  the  oil  in  seven  years.  He  had  been
        driving it only short distances at low speeds, and that old paraffin-
        based oil gummed up on the freeway. But he could lift the battery out
        of that car; he was strong, even just a few years before he died. He
        had big, strong hands; I’ve noticed that about a lot of little guys who
        are strong.
           I think his kidneys did him in. I have the last picture of him; I
        took  it  over  at  my  mother’s  house  on  Ridgeley.  He  used  to  drink
        lemonade  with  sugar,  which  I’ve  read  is  hard  on  the  kidneys.  He
        spent a lot of time out in the sun, and didn’t drink enough water.








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