Memories Shared at Her 75th High School Reunion Weekend: Irene Dolgin Goldstein, Part 4

Irene and her cousin Barry, St. Johnsbury, VT, May 31, 2015.

Mrs. Irene Dolgin Goldstein -- "Irene," in the rest of this post -- attended her 75th high school reunion at St. Johnsbury Academy on May 30, and the next day, she sat with me in the dining room at the Comfort Inn and shared more memories. Some, she had been thinking about before her visit; some came with the reunion; and she brought two wonderful items to talk about.

At the Academy this reunion, she met Frank Powers, a classmate of her brother Arnold's (five years older; class of 1935), who had taken part in liberating train cars of Jews at the end of the Second World War. He wore a French croix de guerre, and a medal from the Dutch Queen Beatrice. Mr. Powers lives in Jacksonville, Florida; is now 98 years old; and told Irene, "I'll see you here again in five more years!"

Irene reconnected with three of her own (1940) classmates: Pauline Potter, Dick Cook, and Louella Drown; Louella, like Irene, went to grade school at the Portland Street School. Irene also recalls another close friend from those years, Ruby Page.

Driving around town with her younger cousins, Irene reflected on the neighborhood she saw this year on Elm Street in St. Johnsbury, and what it used to be: Jake Aaron and family lived in the first house past the railroad tracks, and when they moved to the Bronx, Irene's father Harry Dolgin bought the house. It has since been replaced.

Much of Portland Street has changed, including where Irene grew up in the house at 167, but across the road she found the edges of where her father's platform scale once sat, weighing laden trucks, including the ones delivering maple syrup to Carey Sugar, now Maple Grove -- and the maple processing factory still looks familiar.

Across from the Portland Street School (now Cornerstone) is the field that was a skating rink in winters when Irene was growing up in the 1920s and 1930s. (It is still flooded for ice each winter!) Irene learned to ice skate there. She had a problem with her ankles and needed special arches made for her shoes. Her mother was concerned that ice skates would be a problem. "I wanted to go skating in the worst way," Irene said, "and she said 'no I don't think you should.'" But Irene borrowed her brother Arnold's "shoe skates" to go anyway. Her mother saw her and didn't say anything to her, but went and got Irene a pair of white shoe skates of her own. Skating was from 7 to 8 pm, and every evening after supper Irene would go to skate.

Another rediscovery on her visit in May 2015 for Irene was the cottages at the St. Johnsbury/Lyndonville line. She remembers being able to take a right turn there to a pond that used to be clean and bright. It was a familiar location for her because her father owned the nearby Blue Moon Hotel. She says the man who owned it before her father sold Pontiacs, as well. One day he came to her father Harry Dolgin and said "I need your help" -- he wanted to sell him the restaurant. According to Irene, Harry said, "What's the matter with you, I'm a junk man, I don't know anything about a restaurant." But the man insisted he had to sell: "I'm an alcoholic, you have to help me save my life." Harry really didn't want to purchase the restaurant, so he made the man a ridiculously low offer, expecting to be turned down. The man put the key into Harry's hand. Harry said, "What have I done, I'm a junk man!"

Irene Dolgin's wedding photograph.

But it worked out well after all. Irene was already married at the time. She worked with her father to run the restaurant, and learned to carry a tray when needed! Mostly she "kept an eye on things" and did some of the buying, as well as working as cashier. The restaurant seated about 200 people for dinner. It was open for lunch and dinner, had a bar and liquor license, and also had a small room to seat about 28 people.

There is a photo of the "Blue Moon Restaurant and Ballroom" on page 337 of Claire Dunne Johnson's book "I See by the Paper," volume II. Irene said the ballroom was also a roller rink in winter, and dances were held there. In 1953 the ballroom/rink was destroyed by fire.

Irene enjoyed telling the entertaining story of her brother Irving working at the motel. "Somebody from ASCAP came by and wanted to know where the ballroom was." Irving said, "You'll have to ask Mr. Mephistopheles." "Where do I find him?" "You go right down the road to St. Johnsbury and ask anyone!"

Irving graduated from Lyndon Teachers College and became a schoolteacher, working in Orleans, Vermont. The family was happy that he was doing what he wanted to do. Irene says he was a very kind person. He was married two times and said, "That's it, I'm not going to get involved anymore." He also became a barber when he was disillusioned with teaching and had experienced three rounds of surgery through the VA hospital. Eventually he moved to Quincy, Mass., to be close to Irene. Every evening between 5 and 6 pm he would call her. When at last there was no phone call, and she called his home three or four times with no answer, she and her husband went to Irving's place and found he had died, sitting in his chair by the television.

After this sad story, Irene wrapped up the visit with an entertaining one that featured her mother. Irene's parents used to buy live chickens. Her father would purchase about half a dozen at a time from a farmer and carry them in a burlap sack with holes in it. He took them this way to the Shechita, the kosher butcher, so they could be properly slaughtered. At the time, the slaughter was available in either Montpelier, Vermont, or Sherbrooke, Canada (just across the line from Derby Line, Vermont). One time Irene's mother went to Sherbrooke to have the chickens killed, and Harry would de-feather them when Mrs. Dolgin returned from the trip. The car she used was one that had a history of use by rumrunners! [This was during the Prohibition years, when liquor was available in Canada, and local rumrunners would transport it to markets in the United States.] The police had taken the car from its owner and sold it to Harry, who bought used cars at his junkyard. Mrs. Dolgin went north, accompanied by the family's live-in maid, Rebecca. "Dad said don't buy anything, just come right back," Irene remembered. "But you don't dare to tell Mom that!" Her daring mother bought a small bottle of liquor and put it into her baby's diaper; Rebecca had one in her knickers, for her father. At the border crossing, the police looked in the trunk at the burlap sack. "What's this?" "You won't believe me if I told you, see for yourself," Mrs. Dolgin responded. The office stuck a hand into the sack, finding bloody dead chickens. "Who own this car?" he demanded to know. "Harry Dolgin," said Mrs. Dolgin. The officer expostulated, "Why didn't you tell me?" Mrs. Dolgin replied, "You didn't ask!"

Many thanks to Irene for allowing two special documents to be photographed for this report. One is her lovely wedding photograph. The other is a bill of exchange from 1925, when Charlie Martin sold his Maxwell Touring Car to Irene's father Harry Dolgin for $40 -- and also a Holstein cow, for $45, "worth more than the car," Irene comments with delight.

Newspaper announcement of the Blue Moon sale and purchase:

Growing Up in St. Johnsbury, Vermont, in the 1920s through World War II: Irene Dolgin Goldstein - First Interview

Irene Dolgin, age 18 (1941)

The Dolgins of St. Johnsbury, Vermont: Oral History Provided by Irene (Dolgin) Goldstein, December 2014, January 2015

Mrs. Irene (Dolgin) Goldstein grew up in St. Johnsbury, Vermont, where her parents arrived from Massachusetts in 1916. As one of the early Jewish families in town, the Dolgins have an intriguing story. You may know one of Mrs. Goldstein’s nephews, like Steve Dolgin (son of Irene’s brother Arnold) and Charlie (Charles Harry) Dolgin (son of Irene’s brother David). Both these men still have ties to St. Johnsbury. Steve’s daughter – Mrs. Goldstein’s great-niece – Alyssa Dolgin is a snowboarder who has gained national ranking and who attended St. Johnsbury Academy as a teen.

For ease in typing, and for clarity, I’ll call Mrs. Irene (Dolgin) Goldstein simply “Irene” in this record, but she is 91 and I am sure “Mrs. Goldstein” is the name she now uses, unless she is your aunt!

Irene’s parents were Harry Dolgin, born in 1890 in Kiev, Ukraine, and Frances Bertha Klickstein, born in 1896 in Lynn, Mass. Here is their story:

Irene’s maternal grandparents had just married each other, and her grandfather – Frances’s father – came from the Ukraine to the United States by himself. Frances’s mother stayed home, as she was pregnant with their first child, Sam. When Sam was a couple of months old, he came to America with his mother – Irene’s grandmother. So the next child, Sadie, was born in Lynn, Mass. Irene’s mother Frances would be the fourth.

Meanwhile, let’s follow Harry Dolgin for a bit. Harry was born “about 1890” and in one record his birth is shown as 1888. His Hebrew name was Hersch. His parents were Aaron Leib Dolgopiaty (died 1910 in Kiev, Ukraine) and Briina Tabatchnik (1855-1912). Records show that Briina died in Malden, Mass., where her son Harry settled. Harry’s first arrival in the US was in 1907; he went back to Ukraine in 1910 to get his mother, brother Phillip, and two sisters, and US records show him re-entering the country on April 8, 1910, via New York.

Before leaving Ukraine: Harry Dolgin is at far right, Phillip Dolgin at far left.

Irene doesn’t know quite how Harry and Frances met – her dad used to tease her mom about it but never gave the details. They married on May 10, 1916.

However, before Harry met Frances, he had started a wholesale business in Malden by the Revere Knitting Mills, handling tobacco and more. His brother was also involved in the business. One day, says Irene, “Dad [Harry] went out to get supplies,” and when he returned his brother Phillip was not there. “Teamsters were helping themselves!” Irene reports, “and Dad’s brother wasn’t there. Dad asked where Phillip was and they said he’d gone to get a haircut.” So Irene’s father closed the store, went to the barber shop, and told Phillip the partnership wasn’t working out. He would close and sell the business, split the proceeds, and leave town, but he told Phillip, “You’ll always know where I am.” 

Harry got on a (northbound) train out of Boston. The train stopped in St. Johnsbury. He got off there and talked with a blacksmith, John McLean. [St. Johnsbury business directory for 1925 shows John McLean’s blacksmith business on Bay Street, which would be near the railroad station.] Then Harry walked around town. Irene says the roads were still dirt and mud in those days – her mother told her that in spring the mud was always terrible! Harry came back to the blacksmith downhearted because the bank wouldn’t loan to him, as a stranger to town, the money to buy a horse and wagon. The blacksmith said, “Wait, let me finish up what I’m doing” -- then walked back to the bank with Harry and told the person at the bank, “You give this man anything he wants and I will sign for him.”

 “So Dad got his horse and wagon and went out peddling junk, and to buy junk,” reports his daughter Irene. Harry also made sure his sisters were married. Irene’s aunt Minnie married Barney Goldstein in St Johnsbury, and Irene says that Barney “peddled junk for my father.” Irene’s family lived on Lafayette Street (St J), renting an apartment from an elderly lady with glasses and white hat and apron, with the last name Graves; Irene was told to call her Grammy Graves, so she did!

Irene was a surprise baby, born in 1923. After Irene’s mother had (gave birth to) Arnold, the doctor said she wouldn’t have more, but six years later, Irene was born – in Malden, where her brother Dave, next in line, was also born. [Although Irene’s parents lived in St. Johnsbury from about 1919 onward, for her 1923 birth and Dave’s in 1925, her mother went “home” to her own parents in Massachusetts, where they owned a fish market. These babies were born there, so that Irene’s grandmother, Frances’s mother, could help out. Usually Frances stayed for three or four weeks, says Irene’s nephew Charlie.]

1884 image looking down the future Portland St and Lafayette St, St Johnsbury

Irene says that her dad bought land on Portland Street in St Johnsbury – then a very rural road, lined with a few businesses and some farms -- and built a garage for his business, with a nice apartment for the family. Harry became legally blind in his thirties “but it never stopped him,” Irene reports: He hired a chauffeur to drive him for his ongoing business. [The 1920 Census shows Harry and Frances and toddler Arnold Lewis Dolgin in St. Johnsbury and lists Harry’s occupation at the time as “Automobile Junk. The 1940 Census calls his work “Wrenching Dealer” instead.]

There were about 25 Jewish families in and around the area. But they were not organized into a formal congregation. Irene explains that her family took being Jewish very seriously, so that in terms of food and food preparation, “We kept strictly Kosher.” [This means using only the meat of animals that have been humanely slaughtered by a Kosher butcher, and keeping meat meals separate from dairy food, even in terms of preparation. St. Johnsbury couldn’t provide Kosher meats. So her parents found their own solution and it meshed well with Harry’s junk dealing business, which connected him to Boston.] “Every Thursday he’d take a list from my mother, what she wanted,” and he’d go to Boston, to Mezikofksy Butchers, and place the order. [Morris Mezikofsky, b 1897, Russia; wife Sarah; meat market owner, in 1920 Census. Home located on Poplar Street, Boston.]

[Remember that Harry was legally blind, and his chauffeur drove him to Boston.] The meat market would put together the order for the time that Harry said he’d be picking it up to return north. Often that was later on the same day. But sometimes Harry stayed overnight in Boston so he could attend Jewish Shabbat (Sabbath) services, especially if the date was a yartzeit – that is, the anniversary of the death of one of Harry’s parents, when he would attend the service and speak the Kaddish prayer that honors G-d in memory of the person who has died. Harry’s overnight visits meant he would stay with his brother Phillip at 27 Chester Avenue in Chelsea, or with Irene’s Aunt Bertha (Harry’s sister), who lived on the next street. Irene says her dad would say to Jessie, the chauffeur, “Here’s money, get a room, come (get me) at this time.” On the way back to Vermont he would also deliver groceries to Irene’s maternal grandparents, “as they were retired,” and Harry would make sure his wife’s parents had extra food so that they could give food to those who were in need, as they always helped others.

An organized Jewish community celebrates Shabbat each week, from sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday. Harry “couldn’t afford to pay a rabbi [service leader] for all year,” so Irene says they did not have Shabbat services in St. Johnsbury when she was a girl.

But for the very important “High Holy Days” of the Jewish calendar, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (the New Year and the Day of Atonement), Harry provided for local services. He bought a Torah and kept it, and each fall he would go to Boston to hire a rabbi or chazzan (cantor) for the services. He would find out the cost. There were several major nearby Jewish families, headed by Al Caplan, Harry Zabarsky, and Mickey Zabarsky, Irene explains. But first Harry would go to the other Jewish families and ask how much they could contribute toward the rabbi’s fee. Then the rest of what was needed would be provided in shares by Harry and the other large families just named. Services were held at a rented hall, Boomer’s, near the Passumpsic River. [Note: This was in front of where Lewis Oil most recently had its St J location -- further history of the site being collected from other St. Johnsbury residents.]

[I asked Irene what she learned about being Jewish in this community. She chuckled and said “I have a good story to tell you.” Here it is:] One day Irene was in fourth grade,

returning to school on Portland Street after lunch. Two girls were on the other side of the street. “All of a sudden I hear ‘Look ,there goes the dirty Jew.’” Irene checked for traffic, crossed the street, and “I whacked her across the face and said, that’s what the dirty Jew can do!” The girl said “I’ll tell on you” and Irene said, “Go ahead!”

(As a school child) Irene’s mother made her wash her underwear every night and hang it on chrome bars behind the stove [chrome would not rust, so it wouldn’t stain the clothes]. Her dad would come wake her in the morning and bring the (dry) underwear. “Dad couldn’t see well” but he would make the pot of coffee and start oatmeal in the double boiler, so mother could sleep longer.

Her dad never wanted her to wear black. “And I never did until after he was dead,” Irene agreed. She is happy about her good relationship with her parents. When she was a child, her dad had bought the house next door and his sister lived on the second floor there; the doors were never locked and the kids could be in either house. That is, there were no locks until after this happened: A strange man walked into the kitchen one night, where Irene’s mother was; her mother said “What do you want?” and Irene’s brother, with deep male voice, called from other room, “What is it?” And when the strange man heard the male voice, he turned around and left. After that, Irene’s mother insisted on locks!

Irene also noted that her mom learned to drive after dad died, an Oldsmobile. Her parents never screamed at each other, and Irene would teach this to her own husband. Irene also recalls company at the family home: People from New York (City) would come up collecting for organizations, and her dad would pay $2 for a hotel room for them and have the chauffeur drive them there; they stayed at the family’s house at first but Irene’s mom said it was too much, telling Harry to put them up at the hotel, but they always could come eat with the Dolgin family. Irene says that her dad especially taught her, “If someone comes to you and they want help, you share whatever you have.”

Irene lived in St. Johnsbury until her first marriage, to someone from Montreal. The couple lived in St J for six or seven years, then in Montreal, but in the long run, “things didn’t work out” and they chose divorce, which took two to three years to finalize because of issues in the Canadian Parliament at the time. Then she happily met someone from Quincy, Mass., and moved to Malden, marrying him: Samuel Benjamin Goldstein. “He was a war hero,” she says, who received his award 55 years later for some of his work in the Air Transport Command. The award was given via Senator Kennedy’s office.

As Mrs. Goldstein, Irene has traveled widely, including more than one trip to Israel, where she met some of her father’s cousins. “I’ve had a lot of fun over the years,” she declares. “The only complaint I’ve had is that I wish I could do more!”

COMING NEXT, in Part 2 of Irene’s recollections: Another important connection between the Harry Dolgin and blacksmith John McLean; stores, shopping, and kids in town; going to the doctor; wartime efforts; and more!

[From phone interview with Mrs. Goldstein on Dec. 31, 2014, and follow-up conversation the next week with her nephew Charlie Dolgin. This report was prepared Jan. 12, 2015. – Beth Kanell]

 [Image of Portland Street before development is from Streets, Public Buildings, and General Views of St. Johnsbury, Vermont. St. Johnsbury, VT: F.O. Clark, 1884.]