A Footnote on My Introductory Painting to this Website

Nausicaa, princess of Phaeacia, comes upon Odysseus in Odyssey Book VI. She and her attendants are making an event of doing the laundry. Odysseus is lying on the beach where he landed a shipwreck without clothes. He grabs some available greenery in the interest of modesty.

A Summary and Analysis of James Joyce's Ulysses Thirteenth Episode

The Nausicaa Episode

A mawkish, clichéd, third-person narrative describes the summer evening on Sandymount Strand, near Mary, Star of the Sea church. Bloom stands across the beach from three girlfriends—Cissy Caffrey, Edy Boardman, and Gerty MacDowell—and their charges: Cissy’s twin toddler brothers and Edy’s baby brother. Cissy and Edy tend to the babies and occasionally tease Gerty, who is sitting some distance away. The narrative sympathetically describes Gerty as beautiful, and outlines the commercial products she uses to maintain her looks. Gerty’s crush—the boy who bicycles past her house—has been aloof lately. Gerty daydreams of marriage and domestic life with a silent, strong man. Meanwhile, Edy and Cissy deal loudly with the children’s disputes. Gerty is mortified by her friends’ unladylike obscenity, especially in front of the gentleman (Bloom). Nearby, at the Star of the Sea church, a men’s temperance retreat begins with a supplication to the Virgin.

The toddlers kick their ball too far. Bloom picks it up and throws it back—the ball rolls to a stop under Gerty’s skirt. Gerty tries to kick the ball to Cissy but misses. Gerty senses Bloom’s eyes on her and notices his sad face. She fantasizes that he is a foreigner in mourning who needs her comfort. Gerty displays her ankles and her hair for Bloom, knowing she is arousing him.

Gerty wonders aloud how late it is, hoping Cissy and Edy will take the children home. Cissy approaches Bloom and asks for the time. Bloom’s watch has stopped. Gerty watches Bloom put his hands back in his pockets and senses the onset of her menstrual cycle. She yearns to know Bloom’s story—is he married? A widower? Duty-bound to a madwoman?

Cissy and the others are preparing to leave when the fireworks from the Mirus bazaar begin. They run down the strand to watch, but Gerty remains. Gerty leans back, holding her knee in her hands, knowingly revealing her legs, while she watches a “long Roman candle” firework shoot high in the sky. At the climax of the episode and Gerty’s emotions (and Bloom’s own orgasmic climax, we soon realize) the Roman candle bursts in the air, to cries of “O! O!” on the ground.

As Gerty rises and begins to walk to the others, Bloom realizes that she is lame in one foot. He feels shock and pity, then relief that he did not know this when she was arousing him. Bloom ponders the sexual appeal of abnormalities, then women’s sexual urges as heightened by their menstrual cycles. Remembering Gerty’s two friends, he considers the competitiveness of female friendships, like Molly’s with Josie Breen. Bloom remembers that his watch was stopped at 4:30, and he wonders if that is when Molly and Boylan had sex.

Bloom rearranges his semen-stained shirt and ponders strategies for seducing women. Bloom wonders if Gerty noticed him masturbating—he guesses that she did, as women are very aware. He briefly wonders if Gerty is Martha Clifford. Bloom thinks about how soon girls become mothers, then of Mrs. Purefoy at the nearby maternity hospital. Bloom ponders the “magnetism” that could account for his watch stopping when Boylan and Molly were together, perhaps the same magnetism that draws men and women together. 

Bloom smells Gerty’s perfume in the air—a cheap smell, not like Molly’s complex scent, opoponax. Bloom smells inside his waistcoat, wondering what a man’s smell would be. The scent of the lemon soap reminds him that he forgot to pick up Molly’s lotion.

A “nobleman” passes Bloom. Bloom wonders about the man and considers writing a story called “The Mystery Man on the Beach.” This thought reminds him of the macintosh man at Dignam’s funeral. Looking at Howth lighthouse, Bloom considers the science of light and colors, then the day he and Molly spent there. Now, Boylan is with her. Bloom feels drained. He notices that Mass seems to be over. The postman makes his nine o’clock round with a lamp. A newsboy cries the results of the Gold Cup race.

Bloom decides to avoid going home just yet. He reconsiders the incident in Barney Kiernan’s— perhaps the citizen meant no harm. Bloom thinks about his evening visit to Mrs. Dignam. Bloom tries to remember his dream last night. Molly was dressed in Turkish breeches and red slippers.

Bloom picks up a stray piece of paper, then a stick. Wondering if Gerty will return tomorrow, he begins to write her a message in the sand—“I AM A”—but stops as there is not sufficient room. He erases the letters and throws the stick, which lands straight up in the sand. He decides to have a short nap, and his thoughts become muddled by sleep. Bloom dozes off as a cuckoo clock chimes in the priest’s house nearby.

Analysis

In Episode Thirteen of Ulysses, Gerty MacDowell corresponds to Princess Nausicaa, who, in The Odyssey, discovers Odysseus asleep on the beach and tends to him. Gerty, associated with blue and white, also seems to correspond to the Virgin Mary. Sounds from the nearby temperance retreat are interspersed with Gerty’s narrative, creating an ironic parallel between Gerty and Mary: as Gerty dreams of ministering to a husband and opens herself to Bloom’s supplicating sexual attention, so do the men in the church appeal to the statue of the Virgin Mary for comfort and aid. Episode Thirteen is the first episode of Ulysses that centers on a female consciousness, and it inaugurates the final sections of the book, which are more female-centered in their characters and settings.

The first half of Episode Thirteen centers on Gerty’s appearance and consciousness, and we only hear Bloom’s interior monologue in the second half of the episode. Gerty’s half consists of several barely distinct narrative points of view and styles. The narrative is sympathetic with Gerty, and Gerty’s consciousness slides in and out of the narrative—her interior monologue is sometimes rendered directly. The narrative’s style borrows from (and parodies) the prose of both moralizing, sentimental literature and consumer-oriented women’s magazines. The style is accordingly full of emotional clichés, effusive diction, and imprecise descriptions. Additionally, the style of the narrative is such that unpleasant realities and indelicate details are filtered out. Thus, Gerty’s lame foot is only slightly alluded to, as is masturbation.

The feminine pleasantries and the focus on sentimental love in Episode Thirteen seem to be something of a response to Episode Twelve’s masculine violence and prejudice. This hypothesis fits with the workings ofUlysses, by which previous perspectives are tempered by later styles and character viewpoints. Thus, Bloom’s foreignness—a detriment in Episode Twelve—becomes an attractive asset for him in Episode Thirteen. Yet Episodes Twelve and Thirteen ultimately turn out to have straightforward affinities. Excess lacking substance seems common to both, from the hyperbolic lists of Episode Twelve to the lush expositions of Episode Thirteen. And both episodes seem to offer examples of categorical or stereotypical thinking. The citizen’s logic worked on the seemingly straightforward basis of race and religion. Gerty’s thoughts offer conventional ideas, while the narrative of Episode Thirteen invites us to evaluate Gerty as an entirely typical Irish girl.

Women in Episode Thirteen are defined, in part, by their perceptiveness about who is looking at them and when. Women become sexual beings through their ability to present themselves to be looked at, and Bloom’s erotic moments are voyeuristic. Stephen, in “Proteus,” experimented with closing his eyes and concentrating on his other senses. The second half of Episode Thirteen reflects a shift of emphasis from the eyes to the nose. Bloom’s thoughts hover around smells and smelling. The distinction between the emphasis on senses in the two beach episodes seems to lie in the import of Stephen’s and Bloom’s musings—Stephen seeks to understand how our senses order our relationship to the physical world, while Bloom’s thoughts dwell on sight and smelling as ordering relationships between people.

Like the other women whom Bloom has seen and fantasized about so far inUlysses, Gerty eventually reminds Bloom of Molly, suggesting that Bloom’s desire for Molly is often refracted through another woman. It is in this episode that Bloom notices for the first time that his watch has stopped, apparently sometime between four and five o’clock—perhaps at the exact time of Boylan and Molly’s tryst. Yet our sympathy for Bloom’s sadness at this thought is tempered by the circumstances of the discovery—Bloom himself is conducting a tryst at this later hour, albeit an unconsummated one.

Josef Foshko

The American Shakespeare

Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

                       I Hear America Singing.

    I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
    Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe
              and strong,
    The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
    The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off                    work,
    The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deck-
              hand singing on the steamboat deck,
    The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing
              as he stands,
    The woodcutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morn-
              ing, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
    The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work,
              or of the girl sewing or washing,
    Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
    The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young
              fellows, robust, friendly,
    Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

From Johnson's Quarrel with Swift, Jordan Richman

On The Characters of Women

Nature—passion, the body—lives through reason, that is wit, good sense, and decency. Friendship is a prime value because it keeps the other pleasures alive. The word friendship was not a platitude for Swift:

Dear Jim, pardon me, I know not what I am saying; but believe me that violent friendship is much more lasting, and as much engaging, as violent love. Adieu (Correspondence, III, 322).

Herbert Davis sees Swift’s attempt to fashion a “new view of woman” as going beyond his seventeenth-century models. He describes this woman as unromantic but not unpleasing: “She is able to take her place in the world on equal terms, a free, intelligent gentlewoman, worthy of man’s highest regard and friendship whether within or without the bounds of holy matrimony” (Davis, p. 45). I believe Johnson follows the example of Swift in his expectation of women, an expectation based on the urge to balance and reconcile nature to reason and effected by bringing men and women together for the purposes of polite conversation. Though he expressed doubt about the Letter to a Young Lady, he is actually close to Swift’s thinking in fashioning several female portraits in The Rambler.

Johnson also teaches that the distance between men and women should be narrowed for the sake of reason that assumes friendship and understanding. Female behavior when it is either too conventional, i.e., artificially reasonable, or too unconventional, i.e. artificially natural, is disagreeable. In Rambler 115, Camilla sees herself as a disciple of Swift’s advice:

She …proclaimed her approbation of Swift’s opinion that women are only a higher species of monkeys, and confessed that when she considered the behavior or heard the conversation of her sex she could not but forgive the Turks for suspecting them to want souls (Works, II, 46).

In the portrait of Camilla, Johnson does not disagree with Swift, because Swift in his Letter to a Young Lady also cautions against the kind of role Camilla assumes:

I know very well, that those who are commonly called learned Women, have lost all Manner of Credit by their impertinent Talkativeness, and Conceit of themselves (Works, IX, 92).

It is possible to view Johnson’s coward Anthea also as another representation of a Swiftian attitude toward the female. Swift also expresses distaste for cowardice as a female virtue:

There is, indeed, one Infirmity which is generally allowed you, I mean that of Cowardice . . . At least, if Cowardice be a Sign of Cruelty, (as it is generally granted) I can hardly think it an Accomplishment so desireable [sic], as to be thought worth improving by Affectation (IX, 93).

Anthea, who appears in Rambler 34, completely confirms Swift’s denunciation down to the last detail of seeing cowardice as a sign of cruelty. The objects of Anthea’s frights, such as frogs and coaches, are on the same scale as those listed by Swift. I interpret Johnson’s ironic ending as a sign of Anthea’s cruelty:

At last we came home, and she told her company next day what a pleasant ride had been taken (Works, II, 170).

That she can make such a statement after all the confusion, disorder, and annoyance she has caused by her obsessions reveals the kind of cruelty that accompanies female cowardice. As Johnson humorously displays her, Anthea really wants to manipulate people.

The difficulty in narrowing the distance between the sexes is the attractions of power the woman sees in either extreme. As an Amazon or a coward she is looking for power to master her social unease.

Johnson suggests the possibility of a compromise through the character of Cornelia, while at the same time attacking the conventional role of the wife as a kitchen manager. Lady Bustle is a super-housewife. She is someone who:

makes an orange pudding which is the envy of all the neighbourhood and which she has hitherto found means of mixing and baking with such secrecy, that the ingredient to which it owes its flavour has never been discovered (II, 249).

Cornelia’s humility makes her wonder whether she:

shall throw away the books which I have hitherto thought it my duty to read for The Lady’s Closet Opened, The Complete Servant Maid, and The Court Cook, and resign all curiosity after right and wrong for the art of scalding damascenes without bursting them, and preserving the whiteness of pickled mushrooms (II, 248).

While Lady Bustle’s presumed virtues are humorously dispatched, Cornelia stands as the personification of a modern woman because of her inquisitive concern for the values of right and wrong and her awareness of the roles which are offered to her. She sees Lady Bustle and her entire family, including the husband, engaged in a mindless pursuit of abundance. By this pursuit they have dulled their minds to humanity, thereby losing some of their own. Ultimately her moral neutrality must be seen as a kind of immorality when Cornelia observes that:

She has no curiosity after the events of a war or the fate of heroes in distress; she can hear without the least emotion the ravage of a fire or devastations of a storm. Her neighbours grow rich or poor, come into the world or go out of it, without regard while she is pressing the jelly-bag or airing the state-room (II, 248–249).

By protesting against “these ladies as the great patterns of our sex,” Cornelia is protesting against domestic complacency. It is a protest Swift makes when he observes: “your Sex employs more thought, memory, and application to be Fools, than would serve to make them wise and useful.” Swift would agree that a wife should be able to give her husband more than orange-pudding. However, neither Johnson nor Swift felt that it could be love in the romantic sense of the word:

Swift: Venus, a beautiful, good-natured lady, was the goddess of love; Juno a terrible shrew, the goddess of marriage: and they were always mortal enemies (Works, IV, 247).

Johnson: But love and marriage are different states (Boswell’s Life, I, 381).
It is commonly a weak man who marries for love (III, 3).

The Foundation for Marriage: To be continued…

Work Wanted: For people with writing needs

Who are they?

Writers who need advice, criticism, or copyediting for their book.
Senior citizens who want their autobiographies reviewed for their families or publication

Students who need consultation on dissertation Proposals 

Small Businessmen who need Business Proposals for banks

or government loans

Bloggers

Legal Depositions

Medical Grants

Credit Problems

English as a second language writers
Love Letters

and many others need a freelance writer to help them

with their writing needs.

Call me, Dr. Jordan Richman, at 602-256-2830,

anytime and I will get back to you via a Google phone.

Or, email me at jordanp.richman@gmail.com 

From 'Johnson's Quarrel with Swift,' by Jordan Richman

As late as 1756 Samuel Johnson was still writing in a Swiftian vein. In A Project for the Employment of Authors, from the Universal Visiter (April, 1756), Johnson dons the mask of a mild-mannered, reasonable, and plodding projector. As in Swift’s Modest Proposal, the shock is delayed by a careful introductory survey of the problem. Writers are extremely useful to society, but with their ever-increasing numbers, their value declines so that “every man must be content to read his book to himself” (Johnson, Works, V. 358). It is only when the essay is more than half completed that proposals are made. Early in the essay the mild-mannered projector explains that he will not discuss such formidable evils as heresy, sedition, or hypothetical fictions produced by the “misapplication of literature,” but “some lighter and less extensive evils” (V, 356). The essay poses the problem of the relationship between writers and literature in a society which does not reward their endeavors. There can be no question of the usefulness of literature:

Literature is a kind of intellectual light, which like the light of the sun, may sometimes enable us to see what we do not like (V, 356).

But the writer who serves literature can have no guarantee of payment:

The condition is nearly the same of the gatherer of honey, and the gatherer of knowledge. The bee and the author work alike for others, and often lose the profit of their labour (V, 357).

Thus Johnson’s “gatherer(s) of knowledge,” the Grub Street authors, have little

“sweetness and light” in their lives:

The Reviewers and Critical Reviewers, the Remarkers and Examiners can satisfy their hunger only by devouring their brethern. I am far from imagining that they are naturally more ravenous or bloodthirsty than those on whom they fall with so much violence and fury; but they are hungry, and hunger must be satisfied; and these savages, when their bellies are full, will fawn on those whom they now bite (V, 360).

Memoirs of a Phoenix Octogenarian

Chapter I

Medical History of the Phoenix Octogenarian

From 1996- 2012

Membership in Medicare HMOs

My first Medicare HMO  (1996) was Cigna.

Cigna had a catalog of its doctor's showing their faces (a la Face Book), background, and interests.

My attention was drawn to Dr. Lupa who was from Poland, studied and practiced medicine in Canada, and now was one of Cigna's star primary physicians. I was impressed with her affection for chamber music and interest in dermatology. 

To show my gratitude for the care she gave me, I presented her with a CD of the Canadian film, "The Red Violin." 

In my haste, however, to give my present, I forgot that I had removed the CD from its jacket (to make a copy of it for myself)! Fortunately, the next day I immediately rectified the awful mistake.

She graciously accepted my apologies for this gift-giving malpractice.

She, in turn, removed a real nasty basal cancer from my left leg that was sitting on top of my tibia. All the derms and docs who looked at her work afterwards always complemented her excision of the basal tumor. 


A Cigna surgeon, Dr. Butler, said its position on top of the bone made it difficult to extend removal of its margins without leaving a hole in the leg. Such had been the case of another patient of his. He advised me to douche the area with hydrogen peroxide until it was fully healed.

Dr. Lupa was so good, a son of one of her cancer patients, a captain in the US Navy, married her. The marriage ceremony was held aboard his ship. Shortly after her marriage she was transferred to the Scottsdale Branch of the Cigna network in Arizona.

I live on thirteen street near McDowell Road and my Cigna is located on McDowell and tenth street, Phoenix.

If  ever you are in the 85006 Phoenix area, drop in for some of Vita's excellent coffee

Or, you can send your medical history to jordanp.richman@gmail. I will gladly publish it alongside of mine in this Google blog. Or, if you feel I have been unjust in reviewing the work of the doctors mentioned in this section, I will be glad to present your experiences. 


To be continued...

I

At Battery Park, Shanghaiing drunks was still going on when I was 11 years  in 1904. 

The First mate of a schooner was anxious to Shanghai me when he saw me, a husky boy, sleeping one night in the park.

He gets me up, takes me to a saloon and fills me with whiskey and then brings me to his ship. He says to the Captain of the ship, "I have one for you. He is young and strong."

II

The Captain looks at me, grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a shake, and then asks me how old I am. I look up at the Captain and tells him I am 11 years old now.

The Captain turns to the mate and says, "Are you crazy? I do not want to Shanghai children. Get him off the ship!"

Putting Abe Richman's Memoirs Together

The Final Draft

I

I was sitting on the fire escape at the time I was four years old watching the steam engine trains on the elevators run by. The Street was Allen Street on the Lower East Side of New York City.

It was 1895, the middle of the Gay Nineties and New York was as raw as a raw steak.

The Bowery was four blocks from Allen Street and at that time it was the hottest street in New York. When I was 5 years old I walked to the Bowery and sat at the curb watching the Cable Cars go by.

II

Later on, we moved to Stanton Street at the corner of Meagan Street two blocks from the River. It was the time of the Spanish American war. Admiral Dewey was the hero of the day.

Later on, when I was much older I decided to swim in the River. I was a wild kid, so one day I saw the bigger boys swimming in the River. In those days no one wore or knew about bathing suits. Everyone was in the nude swimming.

For some reason I thought I knew how to swim, so I jumped in the River.

III

When I went down I wondered when I would come up. Finally, when I did come up I waved my hands frantically. The Big Boys could see I was drowning, so they jumped in and grabbed me by the hair and saved me.

For two days I was sick from the water I consumed.

As I grew older I started to peddle newspapers at the Brooklyn Bridge. At that time they were two papers for a Penny and I sold them for a Penny each. Selling newspapers at the Brooklyn Bridge lead me to Chinatown where I saw the opium dens.

IV

There were no laws against drugs at that time. Young girls were lying in the bunks and smoking opium pipes. I became a CHARACTER following that kind of life.

When I was 12 years old, a man took me to the London Theater Burlesque show for .10. It was raw!

V

New York was then full of brothels with young girls from 13 to 18 working them, while the older women walked the Bowery. Prices for girls and women ranged from .50 to $1.00. 

While it was hard for women to find work there was lots of work for men, such as dock work, trucks, and building railroads.

VI

In 1904 when I was 12 years old, I left school, never to return to any other school at any other time in my long life. The only school I thereafter ever attended was TSOHK, The School of Hard Knocks! But I was fortunate that in those days there were no truancy laws that either I nor my father knew about, so my father used my 12 year old muscle power to subsidize his budding painting business to help pay for my younger brother's, (Hymie) cello lessons, while I went to work as a painter in my father's business. It was slack season in the winter, so I applied for a Messenger Boy  job at the Western Union located at 195 Broadway. 

Turner, the hiring man, said I will give you the job if you will first take the paint off your hands. So I became a messenger boy,

Finally, I began shipping out of town to railroads.

I worked for the Union Pacific Railroad putting down steel rails.

The wages were a $1.75 a day for 10 hours a day. 

We worked in open wild country.

We camped on the jobs.

VII

I shipped out to Guild, Tennessee to work on a dam. We were put on trains and we rode South.


To be continued...

I

I WAS SITTING ON THE FIRE ESCAPE AT THAT TIME. I WAS FOUR YEARS OLD. WATCHING THE STEAM ENGINE TRAINS ON THE ELEVATORS RUN BY. THE STREET WAS ALLEN STREET IN NEW YORK.

NEW YORK WAS RAW AT THAT TIME. IT WAS 1895. IT WAS YET THE GAY '90S.

THE BOWERY WAS FOUR BLOCKS AWAY FROM ALLEN STREET. THE BOWERY AT THAT TIME WAS THE HOTTEST STREET IN NEW YORK.

WHEN I WAS 5 YEARS OLD I WALKED TO THE BOWERY AND SAT ON THE CURB

II

WATCHING THE CABLE CARS GO BY.

LATER ON WE MOVED TO STANTON STREET 2 BLOCKS FROM THE RIVER.

AT THAT TIME AROUND 1898 THERE WAS THE SPANISH AMERICAN WAR ON.

ADMIRAL DEWEY WAS THE HERO. WHEN I GOT OLDER I WENT SWIMMING IN THE RIVER.

I THOUGHT I KNEW HOW TO SWIM. SO I JUMBED IN THE RIVER. WHEN I WENT DOWN I WONDERED WHEN I WILL COME UP.

WHEN I CAME UP I MOVED MY HANDS.

III

AND BIG BOYS SEEN THAT I WAS DROWNING.

SO THEY JUMBED IN THE RIVER AND GRABED ME BY THE HAIR AND SAVED ME.

FOR TWO DAYS I WAS SICK FROM THE WATER  THAT I CONSUMED.

AS I GOT OLDER I STARTED SELLING NEWS PAPERS AT THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE.

AT THAT TIME THE PAPERS SOLD WHOLESALE 2 PAPERS FOR A PENNY AND I SOLD THEM FOR A PENNY EACH.

I WENT SELLING PAPERS AT THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE THAT LEAD ME TO CHINE TOWN.

AS I GOT OLDER I WENT TO WORK ON RAILROADS.

AND DOCKS AND SHIPS.

IV

THE STORY I WANT TO EXPLAIN THAT HOW WE LIVED IN THEM DAYS.

WE WORKED LONG HOURS AND WE WORKED HARD.

ALSO WE ATE VERY GOOD BECAUSE FOOD WAS VERY CHEAP.

I

MY FATHER BOUGHT A PAINT STORE ON WATKIN STREET COR SUTTER AVE.

WHO REMEMBERS MARX THE BUILDER ON WATKIN STREET. WE USE TO HAVE A LOT OF FUN WITH HIM. HE HAD A BROWN HORSE ON THE FIELD. ONE MORNING SOUR PAINTERS WHITEWASHED THE HORSE. WHEN HE LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW HE COULDN'T BELEAVE HIS EYES.

THERE WAS A DELI. ON STONE AVE AND SUTTER AVE. WE USED TO GET A BIG CORNED BEEF SANDWICH FOR .10

THEN WE WHENT TO CARNARSIE. THEY HAD THE GOLDEN CITY PARK RIDES WHERE FOR .05 ENTRANCE FEE THE RIDES WAS FREE.

AND FOR .25 ALL DAY WE GOT A ROWBOAT. AND WE ROWED IN JAMACIA BAY.

II

THERE WAS THE HUREN (Huron) CLUB (When we were in the limousine at our mother's funeral my father asked my sister Roz and her husband if they had bought a new Vulva car (Volvo). It certainly lightened the mood of the event.) ON HOWARD AVE  AND BLAKE AVE. AL McCOY AND SOLDIER BARTFIELD AND I TRAINED THERE. WE USED TO DO ROAD WORK ON HUNTERS FLY ROAD WHICH IS NOW KINGS HIGHWAY.

Abraham Richman, 1872-1969

Dad (1937)

Memoirs of the Past

I
AROUND THE TURN OF THE CENTURY AT 1900.
I LIVED IN STANTON STREET NEAR THE RIVER.
THERE WAS A BIG CHICKEN MARKET.
A LIVE CHICKEN WAS A QUARTER EACH AND
.05 FOR THE MEAT,  .06 A POUND FOR THE MEAT
AND THE BEST STEAK MEAT WAS .09 a pound.

Eggs was 2 dozen for a quarter.
a big pumbernicle bread was .05 EACH.


A BIG PITCHER OF BEER 2 QUART SIZE WAS .06
12 Big Bananas .05.


THE HIGHEST PRICE LABORS WERE SHOVELING SNOW AT THAT TIME FOR .25 PER HOUR.
AND ALSO ON THE DOCKS PAID .25 A HOUR.
THEY, THE MEN, WOULD SHAPE UP AND GET A BRASS CHECK


II
WITH A NUMBER ON THE CHECK AND WE WOULD UNLOAD THE SHIPS.


WE DID'NT NO ABOUT UNIONS AS YET.
ANYONE THAT WAS WAY STRONG WAS GIVEN A JOBS ON THE DOCKS.


PAINTERS WAGES WAS $2.25 A DAY FOR 9 HOURS A DAY.
PAINTERS UNION STARTED AROUND 1910.


CARPENTERS WAGES WAS @2.75 A DAY BEFORE 1910, BRICKLAYERS $3.00 BEFORE 1910.
ELECTRICIAN WAS MOSTLY UNKNOWN AT THAT TIME IN THE 1900.


HOW POOR PEOPLE LIVED AT THAT TIME.


A BIG SCHOONER OF BEER WAS .05 WITH A HOT PLATE OF SOUP


III
FREE ALSO BREAD AND THEY HAD FREE LUNCH COUNTERS ALSO FREE FOOD.


A BIG GLASS OF WHISKEY WAS .10


THE RENT WAS A FLAT $9.00 OR 11.00 A MONTH. FOR 4 OR 5 ROOMS.


IN THEM DAYS THERE WAS NO STEAM OR HOT WATER.
THEY HAD COAL STOVES AND COAL WAS $4.00 A TON.


AT THAT TIME SOME BUILDINGS HAD THE TOILETS IN THE YARD AND SOME IN HALLS.


THERE WAS A LOT OF BIG CHARITY ORGANIZATION. AT THAT TIME AND A DOCTOR WOULD COME TO YOUR HOUSE FOR .50 A VISIT.


THERE WERE NO WELFRARE AND RELIEF DEPARTMENT AS YET OR SOCIAL SECURITY OR UNEMPLOYMENT INSURANCE THEN AS WE SEE IT TODAY.