continued from New York City, 1924
Herman entrusted the care of not only his wife and child, but also of funds to purchase land, build a house, and establish a business partnership. Disapproval dripped from mother’s voice as she told me the story. It was Uncle Adolph who selected the lot, the builders, and the plans for the home in New Rochelle. The house that Adolph built with my grandfather’s nest-egg, was an immense two and half story stucco with an expansive garden, a fish pond, a gazebo, and private tennis court. The house at 819 North Avenue, was a Cape Code minus the clapboard siding. It was one of the first homes built in a new subdivision called Wykagyl Park. Initially miles of undeveloped woodland surrounded the property. Yry roamed the woods and dreamed of the Wild West. She was astonished to be given choices about her room decor. Unlike her quarters in Germany, where she’d had to make do with whatever was available during post-war scrounging, Yry got everything she asked for in her new bedroom.
~~~
Was this, perhaps, an attempt by Norah to soften Yry’s dislike for Adolph? I think back to how my mother prepared me for the disruption in our lives when I was 14. I was blindsided when she announced her engagement to a man I’d always known as Mr. Tracy, the plumber. Within months, we left our house in town and moved with Mr. Tracy and his 19-year-old daughter into the house on mom’s ranch. For the first time in my life, I had carte blanche for the décor of my own bedroom. Mirror images?
~~~

The House, 1925, with fan-shaped window marking Yry’s bedroom.
Yry’s new bedroom cocooned her for the next eight years and she loved every aspect of it. Positioned on the top floor, her room was large, but the space was cut by the angle of the roof. The chimney bisected the wall at the end of the room. The chimney was flanked by two small fan-shaped windows on either side of it. Below each window, a built-in storage bench, covered with pillows, provided a cozy perch from which Yry surveyed the entire valley and noted the changes as the neighborhood filled in. She devoured books by authors like Zane Grey and Owen Wister. Those bucolic forested hills behind the house shape-shifted into rugged Rocky Mountains populated by cowboys and Indians and horses.

The indomitable Pussy surveys his new domain.
After years of suffering and scrounging Norah was at last happy. This was the style of life she had been raised to expect. A butler, Cyril, doubled as a chauffeur for their Rickenbacker. They had a full-time maid and a Chinese cook whom Yry never forgave for her awful soups and spinach that tasted like it had gone directly from the ground to the plate.

Mammy & Uncle on Terrase; 1925
Where did all the money come from, I wonder?
Meanwhile, I assume from mother’s comments that Uncle Adolph was working to launch the New York City base of an import/export business partnership. The details of how this came to be, once again elude me. But future business partners, Fred and Joe Stein begin to show up in family photos in the winter of 1925. During that same time, photos of Uncle Adolph appear on nearly every page of the album. He was a pudgy man with a mustache, pipe, and fedora. He proudly escorted Norah and Yry to nearby landmarks. One Saturday, Cyril drove them north to Kensico Reservoir for a picnic outing. They motored across the dam, stopping along the way for photos. Construction on the dam had begun in 1911 and had lasted for nearly four years. Yry was amused that she and the dam were the same age.

Uncle, Yry, Mammy at Kensico Reservoir; 1925
I love Mammy’s picture with the long coat. She looks elegant, but has an inner toughness. The stripes on the cat are vivid. Sometimes it may be good not to know where the money came from during prohibition. Who knows?
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Oh, I hadn’t even considered prohibition! That’s a possibility. Somehow, I thought more on the lines of something…I don’t know…he traveled to Indo-China a lot. Really, we had many artifacts around the house of things he brought back from business trips, nice china do dads, a prayer wheel from India, etc. Maybe it was all on the up and up. Maybe there were a few other things mixed in.
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Maybe he was an acquirer of things abroad for sale here. It sounds more exotic .
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Well, theoretically that was exactly it. I suppose he was a buyer for the import/export business. I had always swallowed that explanation without question, as a kid. Maybe my mom did too. Maybe that’s all there was to it. But as I began writing and putting pieces together, the holes began to make my mind wander and try to fill in the gaps.
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Wow another interesting part of this story!
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Intriguing – Im glad at least that Yry seemed happy
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Who wouldn’t be happy living in a mansion with a maid, a cook, and a driver? Well . . .
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WONDERFUL writing and images!
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Oh thank you, Denise. Your encouragement helps me to keep going!
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I’m all caught up now! Linda, this is going to be such an extraordinary gift for the people who knew and loved your mom. Quite the family historical gem, too. And what a wealth of photos! You’re lucky to have so many high quality old ones. Loving it!
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Thank you, Dia. Do you think I’m putting in too many details that impede the story line? Were you able to follow my leaps in time and voice? I don’t think anyone else has read this version start to finish in one go round, so I’m wondering how it hangs together.
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Sent you an email. WAY too long winded to write it here. 🙂
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Introspection about your family’s past is such an interesting process, isn’t it?
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Yes, especially when all the players are long gone. Thanks for dropping by, John. It’s always good to hear from you.
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Glad to swing by. Next time please have an iced tea at the ready.
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I’ll do what I can. Would lemonade suffice?
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Pink?
As a side note, I could not directly comment on your lemonade reply? Perhaps there is a limit to the number if replies in a single thread? Or, more likely, I’m missing something!
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Thanks for pointing that out, John. I need to tinker with settings. It seems to allow multiple replies through the message panel on the banner across my admin site. But I know everyone views WP differently.
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