Ron Behar

All right, we're recording.

Oh, I see.

Yes. May I have your consent to record this interview?

Absolutely.

My name is Ruth Kodish-Eskind, and it is, let's see, March 24th, 2025. And we're in this, TheirStory room. Do you want to say your name and where you're located right now?

I'm Ron Behar, and I'm located in my house, at the kitchen, at the counter, having banana bread and tea.

That's great. So what's your full name, and have you had any other names in your life?

No. Ronald is my full name.

Do you know the story of your name?

The what?

The story of your name, or where it came from?

Oh, Oh, yes. My actual name is Aaron, and my mother was infatuated with Ronald Coleman, who is a very famous British movie star, and so she told her husband she's naming me Ronald. So there we go.

Will you say where and when you were born, and if there's any stories about your birth that you're aware of?

Well, only what my mother told me, in that my father already had four children and didn't want any more. And so he brought home special pills for her to take to get rid of me. But she flushed them down the toilet. So that was her way of keeping me alive. I was born February 28, 1934, in London. Yes, I do remember where, too, but it's just in West London. It's just one of those famous Queen Charlotte Hospital. And that's all I can tell you about my birth, except that little story about Dad trying to to get rid of me.

Yes. So you had four children.

And I was four children. And I was the last one.

Say Say it again?

I was the last one of five children.

Who were your siblings?

I had a brother who was 13 years older than me, and I can understand why my dad didn't want any more. And I had a sister that was three years younger than him, and another sister that was two years younger than her, and another sister that is, she's 90, she's still alive. She's 93. And she lives in Washington, D.C.

Can you describe your house growing up, who was around, what was the energy of the house like?

Oh, it was a very energy-filled house. It was full of music. My brother played the piano beautifully, and we all got around the piano and sang and danced, and it was really a good, fun household. I don't have a single negative thought about my childhood that I could relate to you, because it was great. And if it hadn't been for my sisters and brothers, I could never have come to America.

What songs did your brother play on the piano?

Oh, my goodness. He played all of Sinatra's songs. He played songs from the 30s, too. He played boogie-woogie, if you know what that is. He played some classical music, too. He was a very talented, artistic man. He was in the Royal Air Force during the Second World War and survived, thank God.

Were other members of your family musical?

Yes, in the sense that they were all musical, including me. Yes, we were all into dancing, into music, into jazz, into concerts, whatever. What did you play? I didn't play anything. I'll tell you why, too, because my mother gave my brother private lessons, and then she started giving private lessons to my sisters, the older ones, and they all ran away when the teacher came. So she said, that's it. I'm not giving any more lessons. So I come along and would love to have had them, and I was left out.

Your mother was the teacher or someone else?

My mother, what?

Was she the piano teacher?

No, no, no. She hired a piano teacher at 59 Pennard Road, which is where we lived, in Shepherds Bush, London.

Okay, Okay, will you describe your house? What did it look like?

It was a row house, all brick, as most of them are in England, and stuck together, you know, semi-detached, they call it here. But yes, you had a very close relationship to the neighbors.

Did you have your own room?

Yes, I did, and that was very nice. I had my own room. Of course, the two older sisters were married and already off by the time I was, you know, around. So I had my own room, and in fact, that was the first room that caught fire when the Nazis bombed us in the Second World War with firebombs, and we were in a shelter in the house, a shelter designed by a minister of England who shipped out steel tables for people to sleep under. Instead of their dining room tables, you'd put this table in there and mattress on the bottom, and everybody slept on it, and it was nice. We were sleeping in there when somebody was banging at our front door very loudly and screaming, your house is on fire. Get out! And so we came out of the room and looked up the stairs, and my room was the first room, and flames were shooting out of the bedroom. And my mother didn't want to leave. She hung on to the stairs and wanted to go up and get her things and all her wonderful wedding gifts and everything, and we had to drag her out, literally drag her out of the house into the street, and the entire street was ablaze. Every house, there wasn't one house that wasn't burning because they had dropped an entire basket, huge basket of incendiary bombs that scattered all over. I think they were trying to hit the railroad that ran behind my house, and so yes, we had to to run out in the street. We were in the street, me and my little sister, nowhere to go, so some neighbors grabbed us and pulled us into their house, into the backyard where they had a shelter, a dugout shelter in the ground. And we slept there all night, and we got up the next morning and walked to our house, and there was nothing but four brick walls, nothing left, not a thing. Yes, it was very tragic, mostly for my mother because of all her wedding gifts and wedding, she had an enormous wedding, so that was it. Then the London County Council makes an effort in finding us places to live, and we moved around, but eventually we found a little flat in London that somebody was allowing us to use, and that's where we spent, I don't know, the next couple of years. The war went on until 1945, and it started in 39, which was very surprising because my mother had a brother, Jack, and he told us before this all happened that he wanted us to come down to the coast to a home he had down there and spend the summer there. This was like August or September, and we did. We all got in his big English Lagonda, which is a very rare car, they don't make them anymore. And we went down to the coast, I think it was Worthing, which is a small town on the English southern coast. And as soon as we got there, the news came on the radio that Britain had declared war on us. Hitler had declared war on us. And so my uncle comes into the room and says, pack up, we're going home. We hadn't even been there 24 hours. And so we packed up everything and raced back to London, and me, a young kid of, well, very young, five years old probably, expecting to see huge damage and bombing and everything. There was nothing, nothing going on at all. They didn't attack or bomb us or do anything for nearly over a year. So they called it the phony war, but eventually it wasn't phony anymore.

How did your parents explain to you what was happening?

Well, first of all, we had a newspaper every day, The Daily Mirror. And I could see the newspaper, my dad would read it and tell everybody what's going on. And, you know, we think there might be a war, we think, we hope not, but it's possible. And all those times that we didn't expect it to happen, but it did. And they just explained it to me, just like the newspapers did. For some reason, to be honest, I don't know why I wasn't scared. It wasn't frightening at all. Just losing my vacation down there was the most upsetting thing. I used to love going to Worthing and to the beach, even though it's not sandy, it's all pebbles. But it was a fun time to be with my sister and mom, and not dad, he had to work. So as far as explaining it, they really didn't have to.

What about, did they talk about the relationship of Jewishness to the war, or as your...

At that point in time, I had already experienced the antisemitism in England. Coming from...Sir-what's his name? Gosh, I wish I could remember. Sir Oswald Mosley, M-O-S-L-E-Y. He was the leader of the Nazi Party in Great Britain. And he came to our neighborhood because we were a pretty low-end neighborhood. And that's where they were getting their support from, was from the working class. And he came marching down our street. And I'm standing outside, this little kid, five-year-old, or six, maybe. And they came down, and my brother was across the street, and two of the hooligans from the Nazi group started beating him up. And there's nothing I could do at six years old. But a policeman came, followed these guys down the street, broke it up, and chased them away. And that was my first experience of real antisemitism. I only ever had another experience later in school, but nothing serious.

Was your brother OK?

My brother was OK. Yes, it was my brother.

Yes, I'm sorry.

Yes, he was OK, but he never forgot that. And that's why he signed up and volunteered to go to the Royal Air Force and when the war broke out.

Yes.

Well, the war obviously hadn't broke out when the Mosleyites were marching down our street. They were just hoping for a turnover, get rid of the king, get rid of the queen. You know, they wanted some horrible fascist society.

OK, so I want to roll back a little bit and hear a little more about your mother. Will you tell me her name, where she's from and what it was like to grow up with her?

Yes, strangely enough, only recently I've seen papers because when she came to England, she was basically an alien. And she was born in Thessalonica, Greece, as was all that side of the family. My father was born in Istanbul, Turkey. But my mother came with a huge family and. My mother's name was Allegra. And her maiden name was Benardout, which was the family name going back a long time. Yes, so there were seven brothers. And two sisters, two, maybe three, I'm not sure I can name them. And I can always name my mother's brothers because they spent a lot of time at our house, even though they had beautiful, elegant homes of their own. They really loved my mother and she was the oldest one. She was the first born and she was born deaf, completely deaf. And if you can imagine how difficult that was raising children in a house, we never understood how she knew when they were crying. She couldn't hear them, but she'd run upstairs and I'd say, "Where are you going?" She'd say, "Oh, the baby's crying." So. That was interesting.

That's amazing. Did she was there sign language or how?

Yes, a little bit of sign language, a little bit of lip. What do you call it? Lip reading. Yes, lip reading. And we all little kids, we just pull on her skirt when we wanted her attention. Yeah, it's amazing how you grow up like that and not find it difficult at all. The only difficult thing I had with my mother was when she would take me to school. And she would speak Spanish to me, and I would tug her and say, "Speak English, speak English." Not because I didn't understand, but I was embarrassed. I wanted to be like everybody else. Natural.

Was she speaking Spanish or Ladino?

Ladino.

Yes.

Yes. I call it Spanish. [Yes.] It really is Spanish from the 14th century. That's all. And that's how it worked out. And I would understand everything she asked me or told me, even when she yelled at me. Ladino. I got that. So, yes, it was a it was a very loving home.

Were there other languages spoken around you? Did your dad speak Turkish?

Yes, he did speak Turkish, but not to us. And I remember many years later, after I'd been in America for 10 years, I made a lot of money, and I went back home, and I said, "Dad, I want to take you back to Istanbul. I want you to go back there." And he looked at me and he said, "Absolutely not." He hated it. I said, "Why not, Dad?" "I've got nothing there. I don't want to have anything to do with it." Well, the reason was that when he left, he actually ran away because they were trying to drag him into the military to fight the British. And so it was odd, but I didn't know all that at the time. Yes he ran away, he ran from Istanbul to Paris and then on to London. And the reason he went to London is that he heard there were a lot of Turkinos, they call them Turkinos, and Ladino people speaking there. Even though he was born in Turkey and my mother was born in Greece, they both spoke Ladino. Because the original place was a little town in Spain called Bihari or something. I don't know. I think that's where they got their name from.

I see. OK, interesting.

My father would never discuss his past. Never. He just wanted me to know what was going on right now. He helped me with many things. He taught me how to weave Persian rugs, how to repair Persian tapestries, and all kinds of things.

So he worked in the rug business, that's true?

Yes. He worked for my grandfather at first. And he was the manager at the Anglo-Persian Carpet Company in South Kensington, which is in London. And, as a matter of fact, if you go there today, there's no store there, but there's a big, huge marble plaque up. And it says Anglo-Persian Carpet Company, 1911 or something. I don't know. It's still there. I've been back there several times.

Can you tell me a little about the about the trade? So, like, what did he do? Like, did they import? Did they weave? Did they repair?

Mostly. OK, I'll tell you, the store, the Anglo-Persian Carpet Company, had a collection of the most rare antique rugs, that you could ever have. Just the really old, the really good ones, the really fine ones. And and there was a huge market for it at that time. We supplied people like Lord Macmillan, who was the Prime Minister of England at a time. In fact, I can remember an incident when one of the times that I visited, Dad was sick and he asked me to go into the store, his little store, and look after it, answer the phone. Well, I went and I'm sitting there and the phone rings and I pick it up and I said, "Can I help you? This is Behar Carpets." And he said, "Is Jack Behar there?" And I said, "No, I'm sorry. He's in the hospital at the moment. He's having some treatment." "Oh, I'm so sorry," person said. "This is Lord and Lady Macmillan, Prime Minister of England. And will you give him our regards?" I was shocked. I didn't know my dad knew these kinds of people. But, you know, in the business that they're in, it's a very rare business. Most of the time the goods came from auction rooms and old houses, and there are a lot of those in England, as you probably know. They're all over the place. In fact, when I was working at the Anglo-Persian Carpet Company myself, my Uncle Sam used to take me to all these homes all over England and we would pick up rugs that needed work. And we would come home with the Riley Auto Car loaded up with rugs from all these different beautiful homes. And we would repair them, clean them and take them back. I even went into Buckingham Palace to work at one point, so that was a very fascinating time. Kept very quiet, but yes, it's the kind of place where you don't make a lot of noise.

That's amazing.

But what was funny about it, I was old enough to be a clown. So I was a young kid working there, learning the trade. I think I was 14 or 15, and I couldn't go to college. My parents couldn't afford it. So I went to work, and we were called by Buckingham Palace to go there to look at some rugs. Well, I thought I was going to make a thing out of this. So I sat in the back of the car-the passenger seat-and just like the Queen does, as we drove through the gates, there were all these people on either side trying to see who it is. I'm waving like I'm royalty. [laughing] Oh, it was very funny. [Ruth laughing] My uncle didn't think it was so funny, but I thought it was hilarious. And we went in there and drove straight through the palace, straight into the ballroom. Yes. But that went on for several years that I did that.

Yes. How old do you think you were when you first started helping out at the carpet business?

And I was fifteen.

OK, so the war years, it sounds like you were five when the war began, and that would have made you 39, 40, 41.

Our war ended in 1945.

Yes, so you were maybe like 11.

That's right. OK.

Did you go to, does that mean you missed elementary school, or how did that all work? Did you go to school? And if so, where?

We went to school for the entire war, except we had to be home at night in the evening. And the way we went to school was kind of amusing. We had to take gas masks. And over our shoulder and backpack with some spare clothes just in case, and we marched to school, we walked. I say we, but my sister and I were at different times. She was two years older than me. And so we walked to school with the masks. We came home with the masks. We never let them out of our sight because the Germans were using gas. And even though I don't know of an occasion where they dropped it in London, I'd heard stories of them using gas. They used the firebombs. And that was then. And that, you know, when the war was over, of course, we thought everything would get back to normal. But of course, it doesn't. You're still on rationing. You get two ounces of sugar a week. You get four ounces of meat, something like that. Everything was on a ration card, and you couldn't get more. So my dad, because he had a big family, used to go on the black market. And the black market, you'd pay extra to get a chicken or something nice or a bottle of olive oil, any of those things that usually are imported. It was the import that was so difficult because they were sinking all of our ships, and the ships that were coming from America and Europe to feed us. And they were trying to starve us out by sinking all the ships. But they didn't manage, thank goodness.

Do you remember being hungry as a kid during those times?

No, no. My mother was a wonderful cook, and she could make anything from anything. And I'll tell you, we ate an awful lot of beans, a lot of beans. Yes.

How did she prepare the beans?

Oh, she cooked them up the old Spanish way, like like they actually do in Spanish restaurants. Yes, they were haricot beans. That was the name of the bean. And yes, she cooked them up. And if we have a little tiny piece of meat or a tiny piece of chicken, it was always wonderful. But we survived the war. We were bombed in the house. We weren't bombed in the houses that the government gave us, fortunately. The amazing thing is that after our house was bombed, we thought that it would take the whole war to end before we'd get our house back, if ever. But no, the British government starts rebuilding right away the houses that were bombed. And they started rebuilding our house. I used to walk down there on my way to school and look at it every day. And it was wonderful. It was being built. The problem was that when it was finished and they were just doing touch-up, the Germans started with the V2 rocket. I don't know if you know what the V2 is, but you've heard of Wernher Von Braun. He designed the V2 rocket. It's the one we used to go to the moon. I mean, he's still using his stuff. Well, the Germans were in Belgium, and they were firing these rockets from a place called Peenemunde. And the rockets would come over, and they would hit big targets like big, big buildings. Unfortunately, there was a railroad right behind our house. And so when the rocket hit the railroad, the explosion blew the whole new roof off of my house. So, you know, that was it. We had to start all over again, building the roof. But eventually we got back in. I think after the war was over.

Can you describe the houses that the government gave you to stay in?

Oh, they didn't build anything. They just asked people who were very generous. They asked people, Are you in your home? A lot of wealthy people never stayed in London. They weren't stupid. I mean, the wealthy people took off, and they had summer homes and winter homes. And, you know, they went everywhere, Switzerland or wherever. So there were a lot of empty homes. And we picked up on those. We stayed in a lovely little house, it wasn't big, but it was a nice house. And I stayed in there and continued going to school. And by the end of the war, my brother, who was stationed in Germany, was one of the soldiers who opened up Auschwitz. You know about Auschwitz?

Yes.

Yes, of course you do. I knew about it firsthand because my brother fell in love with a lady who got out of there. She was Romanian. Her name was Eva Herskovits. And she came to England after a terrible time in the camp. And it was very difficult dealing with somebody like that, because they just didn't understand this happy-go-lucky group of kids and family. She hadn't experienced that for years. Now, the reason she'd survived is because Romania was on the side of the Nazis in the beginning, as was Hungary. And so she was on a school trip from Hungary to Romania. And when the Nazis decided that Hungary was not our ally anymore, and they marched in, and they took her, not any of the other kids, but they took her and put her in the camp. So she was lucky. The reason I say that is because, being that they were allies of the Nazis, they didn't get into the war until two years before the end. So they didn't get a chance to destroy the people as easily. They killed a lot of them, but she survived. And she's had lots of kids, and she's a wonderful example of absolute survival. What did you ask me? I forgot.

Well, you were talking about the places that your family stayed while you were waiting for your home to be rebuilt.

Yes, we kept going to look at them every day to see if it was finished, but we only got to move once. And that was okay. You know, we lost everything in that fire.

When I say everything, I mean that we didn't have a stick out of that place, not a handkerchief, not underwear, not clothing, not a saucepan, not a thing. Every piece of furniture was gone. So you can imagine we really didn't have anything to worry about. Well, we did. Yes. We had to buy new clothes and get new clothes. But that's what my mother was so good at: creating clothes for me.

Did she sew clothes for you?

Yes, she sewed them for me. She even made my bathing suit when I was a little older because I was on a swim team. And, you know, never told the kids my mother made this. You're always a little embarrassed, but she made tons of our clothes.

That's amazing. She was a spectacular woman, totally deaf and amazing. Yes. I'm curious about holidays. What kinds of holidays or family traditions did you all keep up when you were growing up?

Oh, we celebrated all the Jewish holidays, Passover, Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanah, you name it. And we belonged to a wonderful Sephardic synagogue called the Holland Park. It was called the... Well, it was in Holland Park, it was in a very lovely neighborhood, small synagogue where I was bar mitzvahed and where I went back after I was a grown man and they called me up again and I did that. It was a real thrill to be in the same spot 50 years later.

Oh, yes.

The synagogue... I'm just having a little tough time remembering. Oh, I know. [Speaking to son off camera]Yes, Jay, thank you. It was the Spanish and Portuguese synagogue in Holland Park. Yes, I didn't know any Portuguese people, but that name survived. Yes. Yes.

So did you do most holidays at the synagogue or did you do holidays at home as well?

We did them at home, both in the synagogue and at home.

Yes. And what do you remember? Any dishes or special traditions or...

Oh, my God. My mother was a wonderful cook. She made us borekas, bolemas. [Speaking to son off camera] What else, Jay? What? What? Yes, the ones with the spinach. I love those the best. What do you call them? You must know.

I'm not sure.

Quisado.

OK. I don't know Sephardic food that well.

It's bolemas, borekas, quisado. And that's about it. But everything else that went along with it.

Yes.

And we had that in a big, huge table in our living room.

And the whole family would come?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

A big table?

A big table. My dad would sing Turkish songs.

Oh, yes?

Yes. What songs do you remember? I don't remember any of them. I only remember Turkish swear words, which I can't repeat here because somebody might get offended.

[laughing] Fair enough. Were they Jewish songs?

Oh, yes.

I see.

They were Sephardic songs.

I see.

Ein Kelohanu. Yes.

What do you remember? Like, what do you think was your favorite holiday as a kid?

Hmm. Well, of course, when we got out of school in the summer, it was the most pleasurable because then I was absolutely in my glory. But I loved them all. Well, I didn't love Yom Kippur so much because we had to wait so long to eat.

Yes.

And so, yes, the new year was good. Rosh Hashanah was good. And of course, Pesach, which is what we call Passover, Pesach was the best. Yeah. All the best food.

It's coming up.

Yes, I guess it is. Yes, I'm going to Colorado to my son.

Oh, lovely. We've been recording about 40 minutes. Do you want to take a break or how are you feeling?

Yeah, I'll take a break to finish my banana bread.

OK, I'm going to press stop.

OK.

And all right, can I have your consent to record this interview?

Yes.

Thank you. You were going to say what the government did with the children?

Once the bombing got so bad that we'd lost maybe 50,000 or 75,000 people and the Germans had concentrated on bombing London because we were trying to bomb Berlin if we could get there. So the government decided that they wanted to have a second generation and so wanted to ship all the children out of town. And my mother consented, as all the other mothers did. Most of them did. Some of the people who refused were sorry they refused because London was bombed horribly. You look back at all the things that were bombed. It was just amazing, even the Houses of Parliament. And so they decided to ship us off. At the time, the Germans had not taken over Norway. Sweden was neutral. But the Germans hadn't taken over Norway. So the government said, "We'll ship you to Manchester." Nice big city, huge Jewish population there, which I didn't know at the time, but found out. And found us homes to live in with my sister and me. And so we were shipped off at some point to Manchester. And if you can visualize going to King's Cross Station in London and the whole platform filled with young little kids, all with their backpacks. And it was very sad to see that. And I don't remember us crying. At least my sister said she doesn't remember. But I remember seeing my mom leave, leave us there. And that was horrifying to me. And they shipped us to Manchester. And we stayed in a home. And it was okay. But you know, you're very sad. You don't want to be there. You want to be at your home in London. So we had to go to school. I lived in Manchester. Oh, gosh. Slipped my mind again, [Speaking off camera] Jay. It's a very famous area. Very big Jewish population there. And so we actually went. We had a normal life there. We had a synagogue. We had school. We weren't very happy. You're never very happy when you're shipped out. But anyway, we stayed there.

How long were you there for?

Well, we were there for at least a year. I can't remember details. Sure. I was too young.

Yes.

But then the Germans invaded Norway. Now their planes had access to England.

I see.

And they could reach Manchester, which was a huge industrial city, building planes, building steel. Everything was being built in and around Manchester. And so they started to bomb. So we had to get out of there. So once again, we shipped back to London, and the government found us another place. It was in Cambridge. And that was lovely. We stayed in Cambridge. It's lovely park-like atmosphere, beautiful streets, lovely school, very, very pleasant. It was a lovely place. And we used to walk to school and pick strawberries off the bushes. I remember that. That's amazing.

Do you remember reuniting with your mom?

No. No. Only when we were in London.

Oh, I see. You went to Cambridge. And then, I see.

By ourselves again, just the two of us. What's funny, though, is I remember the Oxford and Cambridge boat race. And we became Cambridge supporters, of course. And we'd walk to school. And we'd love it there. We really liked it there. It wasn't sad at all. But one time, my mother came to visit. She came to Cambridge on the bus or the train somehow. And the owner of the house, who is a lady that I'm living with, said to my mother, "Your children don't seem to know about church." Now, how do you like that? They had no idea we were Jewish. So my mother, oh, oh, I know. okay, okay. My mother immediately packed us up and took us back to London to face the bombs rather than be converted. I mean, rather hilarious, actually, when you think about it. It was stunning. I mean, she took us back. And then the bombing got worse. And oh, God, it was really bad at night. You're terrified when the flying bombs come over. You can hear them. They were pilotless. And they made a certain kind of noise. And it was a droning, [mimics sound] waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-waa-waa. And you knew when that droning stopped that the bomb was about to come down. And you hoped that it wasn't going to come on your house because you didn't know where it was going to land. But it landed all over Shepherd's Bush and different places. And we were fortunate it didn't hit us. Anyway, my mother decided right away, I'm shipping you out again, this time to Cornwall. You heard of Cornwall?

Mm-hmm [affirmative]

To a little town famous in stories called St. Ives. And St. Ives is just outside um, um, Cornwall-Penzance. Penzance Penzance. Penzance is the main city where the Pirates of Penzance, you may have heard of the Pirates of Penzance, you may have heard of them, very famous. You haven't heard of them. You'd better read a little more. And yeah, the Pirates of Penzance, they were famous because Penzance was and if you look at a map, you'll see it. And you'll see St. Ives, a tiny, tiny little village. And we just adored it there. Mom left us there. We were quite happy. That was another place where strawberries were growing along the road.. And we went to school. We walked to school and back and forth and back and forth. And then, as the war was coming to a close, not ended, but coming to a close, my brother, Sammy, who was in the Royal Air Force, he got some leave. And he wanted to come down and visit us. So he came to Cornwall. And he came to Penzance and to St. Ives. And we all met there. He brought my mother with her because she was totally deaf and hardly spoke much English. So when she saw us there and she checked back with London, and seeing that the bombing had stopped, that the Germans were being beat back, that they'd taken over Peenemunde where the rockets were coming from, that the Americans had invaded, the British had invaded, and the war was going to be over, eventually. So mom said, "Let's bring them back to London. They're okay now." And so she brought us back. So that was my experience with Cambridge and Cornwall, and Manchester.

Yes, quite a lot of places you, you went.

Who knew we were going to go to those places? Who knew? It was amazing that the people in a lot of those places had no idea about Judaism, no idea at all. So we didn't bring it up. But my mother was aware of it. And when they asked her, How come your kids don't know the Bible or whatever she was talking about to my mom, my mom got scared. She, yes, packed us up, took us home.

Yes. I'm curious about a couple of things. One is, it sounds like everywhere you go, you are re-enrolled in the local school, and you just jump right in. How did that work? Did your education remain consistent somehow?

Well, pretty much. Not great. I mean, it was pretty consistent. I think the British Government informed the school district. Someone from the British Government informed the school district where we were. But they pretty well knew. Everybody the same age in England has the same schooling. And then, of course, we were too young to leave school. So they kept us going. It wasn't that difficult. They never gave us homework that was too hard. We were out of our element. I mean, we weren't at home. We were lodged.

Yes, and who were the people who were taking care of you? Do you remember any of them?

Oh, yes, I remember lots of them. I remember, well, I shouldn't say that. I remember the ones in Cambridge. I definitely remember the ones in Cornwall. They were very nice to us. They were just, I don't want to say in a rude way, but they were just ignorant. They were country people who were offering their homes to save lives. And that was a wonderful thing they were doing. So we couldn't do anything but appreciate that. We weren't going to complain, even though I hated the food some of the people gave us. Oh, my God, cooked marrow and stuff like horrible stuff. But we had nothing else to eat. So there you go. We learned the hard way.

Yes, and then I'm curious about communication. It sounds like you were able to keep in touch with your family. How did you communicate?

Not by phone. No, only if they came to visit. Oh, yes.

No letters, no telegrams, just?

I'm sure there were letters. Okay. I've always loved writing letters, and I'm sure that came from that habit. Yes, I've written letters all my life. But yes I don't know. There wasn't much communication. And of course, the people in London, our family, it was scary for them to go on a train because the Nazis were bombing every bloody railroad they could.

Yes.

I mean, they thought they had us beat, and they really did. We were in terrible shape. We had no army. We lost all those people at Dunkirk. You must know about that story. Invaded and then got trapped there. I mean, that was half of our military. So we weren't in very good shape. But we had a wonderful Royal Air Force. That's why I volunteered for the Royal Air Force later. But the Royal Air Force had their Spitfires and Hurricanes and all these bombers that used to blow the German planes out of the sky. They were much faster. They were more maneuverability. And it was a good thing. I swear, if it wasn't for the Air Force, the war would never have ended. They would have invaded. They were afraid to come across the Channel because they would have been sunk every boat by the Royal Air Force.

OK, tell me a little bit about the years after the war. Or no, tell me about when the war ended. What do you remember about learning the fact that it was closing up and things like that?

Well, that? Well, the first thing I learned was that sugar had been taken off of rationing. I mean, it's unbelievable how you miss something when it's banned. And it was banned because of the ships being sunk and torpedoed. Terrible loss of life, really huge. And ships and men in that English Channel, man, there's no way you could defend it against a huge German army. But yes, I remember my mother saying, "You can get sweets now." To us, you call it candy. We call them sweets, Okay? So I grabbed her by the arm. I said, "Come on, let's go get some sweets." Well, every store was completely sold out, gone, except a little bag of boiled sweets. Oh, my God. I said, "This is it. Oh, Mom, I want some real sweets." Well, then we started to get bananas. And that was bloody amazing. I mean, everything we got, we treated like a treasure. Any kind of candy, any kind. Yes. I'm trying to remember some specifics, but I don't remember our first chocolate bar. I'm nuts about chocolate, ever since the war. And I don't know. I don't know what I remember. Well, the rationing was still on. And oh, I'll tell you something that you've probably never heard about. As the war continued, meat was impossible. The butcher, you walk in there, and he says, "Sorry, I'm out of meat. I have nothing." Obviously, except for themselves, I'm sure. But we had no meat. So what did we have to eat? Horse meat. Sounds terrible. But we ate it. I remember exactly where my mother got it. I went with her. It was like a little stall in the market. And oh, there are horrible big chunks of horse meat there. And she brought it home and cooked it for us. And we ate it, but not something I remember with glee.

Yes.

So those were memories of the war ending.

Yes.

And what else? Trying to think how old I was. I must have been.

I think 11 was what we said.

11, okay, or maybe 12, depending.

Do you remember there being a definitive day that you were like, this is it? The war is over. Or did it kind of fade?

Oh, yeah. Well, we ran out into the street and screamed and yelled. And all the buddies, all our friends that lived on the street, Kenneth Hutchins, Paul Lewis, all these people that lived on our street and were all Jewish, all came out waving arms around and giving us a hug and whatever.

Yes.

I don't remember specifics.

Was your neighborhood very Jewish?

There were at least one, two, three, four, five, six, and about seven homes on the street. That is like a quarter of them. [coughing -Oh, God, I'm choking.] A street is a quarter mile long. It's bounded on.=Excuse me, I've got to get some water.

Take your time. Yes, yes, take your time. Yes,yes, take a break.

Oh, dear. Oh. Oh. Yes. What was I telling you?

I've asked you if you were in a Jewish neighborhood, and you were kind of describing that like seven or eight houses on the street were maybe Jewish families.

You realize every house is attached. You've seen those row homes, I'm sure. Yes. In Europe.

Yes.

It was about a quarter mile long. And it was bordered on one end by a main road that led to the West End, and on the other side, another main road that led somewhere else. But yes, that was it. But there were houses on that street, on both sides of the street.

Yes.

And that's, I think, why those incendiary bombs did so much damage. Because they're all stuck together.

Yes. I'm curious about whether you, you know, as the war is ending, you're coming into, you know, you're becoming a teenager almost. You're approaching 13. Were there any particular goals or dreams that you remember having at that age?

Having a bar mitzvah.

Yes.

Yes.

Looking forward to it?

No, but. [laughing] No, but I knew there wasn't going to be any big parties. We had no money. [Yes.] Very different, very different than what they do today. They hate the Olympic Hotel. They don't do, we didn't do any of that. We were lucky if we got a fountain pen, you know, as a gift. That was a big gift.

Yes.

A nice, classy fountain pen. Yes. I had to go for lessons for my bar mitzvah. And the Rabbi was really mean to me. When I made a mistake, he would hit me with a ruler on my hands. Can't do that in America. And it was very tough. I mean, I was crying at times. And I told my mother, she said, You still got to do it. You've got to do it, Ronnie. You've got to do it. I said, Okay I'll do it. But boy, I hate it. And so I have no pleasure thinking about my bar mitzvah. Not at all. Now, as I got a little bit older, 13, 14, 15 maybe, I had parties at my house and music parties. I invited the guys, and we had a lot of fun. So that was a really good time. But when you talk about the bar mitzvah, no, it wasn't something I looked forward to. And I don't envy anybody doing it. I'm not a religious person.

Say it again?

I'm not a religious person, even though my whole family was. I'm sure you can understand why after the Second World War. There's nothing to be thankful for except surviving. Yes.

We're at almost 25 minutes. Do you want to kind of wrap it up here, and we can schedule our next session?

Yeah. Yeah. I'm going to lose my voice. I know.

It's a lot of work. It's a lot of work. Yeah. You're doing great. You're really, this is a great interview. I'm going to press stop now.

OK, then. Thank you.

Okay, this is Ruth Kodish Eskind. It is April 21st, and I'm recording Ron Behar. Will you give me your consent to record this interview today? Can you hear me okay, Ron?

I just did, yes. I heard you fine.

Okay. Can I have your consent to record this interview?

Can you what?

Can I have your consent to record this interview?

Oh, of course. We've been doing this for a while.

Thank you. And you can hear me? Is my internet quality okay?

Yes, it sounds very clear.

Okay. So, I just wanted to ask you to share the story about sleeping in the subway.

Oh, well, as the war started in September 3rd, 1939, for a while there, nothing actually happened. Not for almost a year and a half later, when the bombing began. And we started bombing them, and they started bombing us. So, what would happen is my mother would take the two youngest children, myself and my little older sister, and take a push chair, put a sort of a semi-type mattress in it with blankets and our gas masks, and we would wheel and walk to the closest subway station, where they were prepared for us. We'd go down way deep, the deep, deep, very deep subway station, and we would wait there until the trains kind of stopped. And then we would lay out our blankets on the platform, and that's where we'd sleep all night. And that went on while the bombing was prevalent. So, it was quite a very odd experience. Other children, all the parents, not the fathers, they were all in the military, but the mothers, all the mothers were there with their children. And there was no service, no food, no drinks, no anything. Just you stayed there until morning, then you came up, hoping and praying that your home was intact. And in fact, it actually wasn't the second time we went there. We went to our house. The first time we were in the house when it was bombed, I don't know if I've already told you that. Yes, I did. Okay. Okay. After that, we just wanted to wait until it was rebuilt, and that's when we spent a lot of time in the underground. The Shepherd's Bush Station was the closest one to us. But that was it. Quite a traumatic experience.

Was it very crowded? How many people would you say were there with you?

Oh, the whole platform from one end to the other was filled with children. Children and their parents, mothers anyway. Yes, they were side by side with mattresses. All these kids, you know, who thought it was a big joke. But I guess their parents didn't think that way at all.

Sure. Yes. Do you remember playing with other kids down there?

Well, we wouldn't go down there until it was pretty much time to go to bed, because the Germans didn't do much bombing, any bombing during the day, because they didn't want to get hit by anti-aircraft guns, so they would only come at night. And so, it was already our bedtime. And our parents wanted us to go to sleep, which was very difficult when the trains kept coming and going. But after a while, the government had slowed that down and got the trains to stop earlier, and we got a decent night's sleep. I don't think my mother did, but we did.

Yes. So at the end of our last interview, we left off around age 13. So, I wonder if you wanted to kind of pick up there some notes I have, say, you know, to talk about the transfer to the Royal Air Force and American soldiers staying at your house. And you mentioned your love for America started at that time.

Yes, that's right. It was during that time, when the allies were building up a force to invade the European continent, because they knew that was the only way to end this war, was to crush Germany. And so, they had soldiers that were stationed, not in our house, but outside London in camps. And on the weekends, they would come in and they would ask if they could spend any time in our home for one soldier or one or two. Usually, it was just one. And they would stay there and they would go out for the evening and meet their buddies. And then come back and go to sleep in our house. That was quite a bit before the Royal Air Force, though, because I didn't get called up until I was 18. And when you're 18 is when you had forced conscription. You had to go in. You were required to serve in the service. And as my brother had been in the Royal Air Force during the invasion of Europe, I chose that as my service. That's all.

Do you want to talk about that? How was it to join and what your experiences were there?

In the Air Force? Well, one of the problems was that the Royal Air Force didn't have a lot of use for us. We were just these conscripted individuals who had no desire to be in the Air Force. We were just required. And of course, the people that received us in the camps knew that and really didn't consider us permanent or, you know, anything that they were going to build upon. So, it was a really, unfortunately, a big waste of time, probably the two years of the biggest waste of time of my life, because all we did is try to work out plans to go home. And every weekend, maybe we'd rent a bus. I would rent a bus, what they called a charabank, but, you know, just the low buses. And we would rent it, bring it to the camp. And anybody that wanted to go to London would pay us and we'd take them down there. Sometimes we sold so many seats, I had to stand up all the way. So those occasionally were some of those awkward moments. And then during that same time that we were we were busing to London, we were also going back into camp and getting, I guess, acclimatized with the conditions of the camp. And I had never, I had never drunk a booze before in my life up until that point. And all the guys were suggesting I do it. Well, what happened was, is that first time I started to drink, I get drunk and could hardly walk straight. And I was called and the, the sergeant major says, everybody's got to go into the into the into the I can't remember the name of it, but where they fed us on the big, long tables. And it was Christmas time. And the British royals, no, the British military have a custom that on Christmas Day, they serve the, the, the waiting men rather than the other way around. Instead of us serving the officers as we normally do, they served us. So, I had to get into that mess hall, semi, semi sober. And it was very difficult. Luckily, I had my buddies on either side of me sort of carrying me in there and sitting me down so that nobody would notice me. And that was a strange experience. Yes, you can imagine.

Yes. [Okay.] Were you going to say something else?

No, I was just thinking it was memorable only because of the fact that the officers were all around us, so we couldn't sort of hide ourselves very well because they were serving us. And even though I certainly didn't feel like eating, I had to act like that was okay. Right. Anyway, that was that. And we had to do guard duty at night in the camp. And I distinctly remember being outside and falling asleep on guard duty, which wasn't appropriate. But nobody seemed to notice. I always had a friend with me who woke me up and told me when it was time to go in or when it was dawn, and we'd head on in. Yes, there were a lot of strange experiences, but you asked if there was anything memorable. As far as I remember, the Royal Air Force, two years, nothing memorable, nothing.

Yes. You were pretty much waiting to get out of there.

Yes, we were assigned to a unit called A.O.G. That meant that was aircraft on ground because it needed a part or it needed a repair. And I swear to God that as long as I was in the Air Force, no airplane ever got no airplane ever got off the ground again. But that was just then.

Um, was that your first time leaving home as an adult? I know you left a lot as a kid during the war, but as an adult, independently on your own.

Yes, it was. We certainly didn't want to be conscripted or drafted, as you call it here in America. We didn't want to. There was no way out of it. In fact, I said to my dad, "Gee, Dad, I don't want to go. Do you want me to go?" I said we could get out of the country. And my dad, who is a stalwart immigrant to England and was very proud of the fact that he was an immigrant, said, "Absolutely not, you're going to do your service and do your duty to your country. And that's it." So, there was no question about me getting out. He wouldn't let me.

Yes. So, what happened once you got home? Did you return to your family business?

When I got home, yes, I think after camp and I was in about three different camps. I did tell you I was evacuated during the war, didn't I? To three different places, I believe I said Manchester, Cambridge and Cornwall. Yes, I still remember it in that order. Yes. Yes, I went back to my, my old job. And wasn't happy. Wasn't ready to settle down there. Very, very interested. I'd made very good friends in the Royal Air Force with my buddies. I even had the, the company set up a gym for us at the camp. I arranged it. I imported weights, and equipment and I had all the guys working out. But yes, it was not what I wanted to do. And I knew that the people I was working for, my mother's brothers, were not going to give me any opportunity to own anything. So, there really wasn't any point staying there. So one day I was sitting at home, and I pulled out a big map of the world and I'm looking at it and I'm thinking, "Wouldn't it be lovely if we could go out away from here?" And as I was looking at it, my Air Force buddy, Dave Paletz walked in and said, "What are you doing?" And I said, "Well, Dave, I'm thinking of leaving the country. What about you?" He said, "Great, I'll go with you." And just like that, he decided on it. I mean, this is amazing because his father was a very strict person. He was also he had passed away very young. He was the editor of the Daily Telegraph and he passed away in his 30s of a sudden heart attack. And so, Dave was raised by his mother. But he agreed that it was time to get out of the country, countries in pretty bad shape after the war, wasn't much going on. And so, we started from that moment planning and the way we planned was to go to the nicer parts of London and go to the little cafes and coffee bars where we knew Americans would inhabit. And we ran into a lot of Americans, and we talked to them and they were so excited that we were going to wanted to go to America. So, or if we were going to go to America. And so, they would always end up saying, "Well, son, if you come to America, come and look me up." Not realizing that we were going to look them up, even though they did just as a gesture of kindness. But yes, that's how we started to plan. It took a long time. It took us a long time to raise enough money to get the boat ticket on the SS United States, which was the fastest ship. In any fleet, but it was the cream of the crop for the U.S. for the Americans. And that's how we plan to go.

Around what year do you think this was?

Oh, gosh, let's see. Now you want details.

Well, even the range would be fine. I just want to make sure I have a good idea.

Well, well, if I was born in thirty-four, and I was drafted at the age of 18. [Okay] That would be fifty-two, I believe.

Yes, that sounds right.

Okay, at fifty-two, I'm drafted. I get out in fifty-four. And so, I think fifty-five or fifty-six.

Okay. So, you're saying that you talked to Americans in cafes. Was there any other kind of research you did, or did you say you were planning for a long time? What else did that entail?

Well, I had my mother had told me about her sister who had moved to the United States several years earlier. And I wanted to know about that because I thought there's a possibility for some help. And so, I contacted them, not like we do today, I picked up the phone. No, I had to write to them, and they wrote back and said, "We would love you to come. We would welcome you. We would even give you a job in our new dry-cleaning company." So I thought, "Oh, great. Now I've got a job." And bingo, that was it. The only problem was-is that I didn't have a job in New York, and that's where the boat landed. And so I had to search around, ask my dad if he knew any people. And he did. Actually, he knew a man who lived in New York named Leon Medina, M-E-D-I-N-A. Leon Medina was an antique collector, and he knew about rugs, which was my specialty. And so, my dad said, "You go to him and he may find you some work." So, I was assured of that. And when we finally did take off and I wish I knew the exact date, but I don't.

That's okay.

I suppose I could work it out. I know in the summer. But anyway, I did get to New York with my friend. We both got off the boat the same day, at the same time, and started searching for a place to live. There was a guy who was working in New York. He was from the city of Brighton in England, and we knew of him. He said to pop up and see him, so we did, and he found us a room to stay, so we stayed in a room near where he was and started tracking around looking for work. I just went from antique store to antique store to carpet store, and I just kept looking. It's funny that, you know, a lot of people go looking in restaurants for waiter jobs. It never occurred to me ever. And so strange because I see today that's the way the, you know, foreign people come in and they look for work. That's the easiest place to go. Anyway, I went down to see Mr. Medina, and he showed me a rug that was practically worn out, and he said, "Do you think you can fix this?"And I said, "Well, I can start on it. It looks like it's going to take a long time." Well, he said, "Just start on it. I'll pay you $50 a week. As long as you're here doing it." And that was great, very nice. So that's where I started work. Well, at my lunchtimes, I would start searching around for a better job. And I noticed in a building in New York, it was called the Lever Brothers building. I thought it was famous at that time. I don't know today if there's even such a place. They could be, but it was in the heart of New York. And I saw this name, Coury Rugs, C-O-U-R-Y, Coury Rugs. And so, I went in there and knocked on the door. He was like on the 10th floor of a skyscraper. And I said, "Do you need somebody who knows Persian rugs?" And he said, "You mean you can fix them?" I said, "Yes, it's my trade." And so, he pulled me over and he said, "See this rug here, one on the floor?" I said, "Yes." He said, "There's a burn hole in it. It's about, oh, three-quarters of an inch in diameter. Can you fix that?" And I said, "Yes, eventually." And so. he said,"Okay, I'll pay you $75 a week while you are fixing it." So, that was already $25 a week, better than I was getting. So, I took the job. I took the little pieces of the rug from different areas, took the wools and the yarns down to wool shops in Greenwich Village, matched the colors, brought them back, and started weaving this rug and restoring it. And I got it all finished, took me a week maybe, and I had all my carpet tools from England. I had brought them with me. And when I told him I was done, he said, "Oh, let me look at it." Now, this guy was he didn't have really good eyesight, but let me tell you, he pulls out a magnifying glass and he's looking to see if he can find the repair, and he couldn't. So I was very happy. And he said, "Okay, you've got a job." So that was my next job, a job in America.

Okay, can I ask you a couple of questions? I'm curious about what your first impression of New York was.

Oh, I can tell you that in a minute. Coming in on the ship, the SS United States, going past the Statue of Liberty and coming in there, my, my heart was swelling up. I'm telling you, I was so thrilled at the thought that I was actually there and the thrill of what the future could possibly hold. And. Yes, that was my experience. I just was I just loved everything about New York. I don't care what it was dirty, scrappy. I loved everything. I loved everything. And when I got that good job, you know, and I found a place to live with my buddy, he got a job, too, but he wasn't too happy with his job. And I'll tell you why. Dave Paletz is his name. I remember this because he's still alive and his birthday is on the 24th. His 91st birthday, yes. Anyway, he got a job with HFC. Do you know what that is? No, you don't. Well, everybody in America used to know when I first got here as Household Finance Company. That's where you went to borrow money. Okay, now, the problem is a lot of people went and borrowed money, but they didn't want to pay it back. So, HFC gave Dave this job of going around trying to collect money. And the places he had to go, all in the worst parts of New York, he got chased down the stairs with a guy with a knife and ran out of there. He had a terrible time with that job. He lasted there for a while, but eventually, of course, we all left New York because I had permanent residence in Los Angeles, with my aunt and uncle. And the funny thing about it was: is because I had given the US government my permanent address as Los Angeles. I wasn't really allowed anywhere in between. And I made a serious mistake when we finally left New York and started to cross the country. And how did we do it? I know you're going to ask me that because we didn't have a dime. We went to a company that ships cars to people on either coast, and you're a rich American, and you're in New York, and you're flying to your home in Palm Springs. You don't want to rent a car there. You're going to be there for the entire winter. So, you want your car there. So, you give it to this company, and they find drivers like me and say, "Okay, you take this car to Palm Springs." You don't make any money, you pay your own way, you pay your own gas, but it was so cheap, then like 20 cents a gallon and, and even less, actually. So that's what we did. We finally loaded up one day, said goodbye to all the lovely girls we'd met in Brooklyn and New York and everywhere else, we had a wonderful time and then we started on the trip. But the owner of the company, unbeknownst to us, did not have a proper license to do what he was doing, but we didn't know, so we took his word for it. Well, when we went to pick up the car at his office, he said, "There's been a small change." He said, "You have to go to Miami first from New York. And deliver this car there and there'll be another car waiting for you that you can go across to Los Angeles." Well, we believed him. Unfortunately, because there was never going to be another car, he just faked it to get us stuck down there and get the car to his customer down there. So that's what happened. We get to Miami and we're stuck. No money, no nothing. And my buddy Dave was very, very, very witty. He says, I'm going to go to the newspaper and tell him what happened. And he did. And they loved it. They wrote a huge story, a whole back page article in the Miami Daily News. And people called us. And we got jobs in Miami. The problem was it was in November and that's about the beginning of the season down there, which is tough to take, because it's very expensive to live in Miami in the height of the winter season. So, we got jobs, my first job was at the Roney Plaza Hotel. And the most notable thing about that place, it was an old place, downtown Miami, old Miami Beach, excuse me, not Miami's proper. The most significant thing is that there was a very famous journalist living there. And because you never I doubt if you'd ever heard of him, his name was Walter Winchell. Name doesn't ring a bell; you better look it up, [Okay] Because he was famous for tearing people down and ruining them or uplifting them and making them totally famous. He was feared and revered. By the population, and he was a nasty piece of work, and I got a job in that hotel as an elevator operator. So, in comes Walter Winchell into my elevator and, it was Christmas time now, we'd been there a while, getting close Christmas Eve, something like that, and I said to him, "Merry Christmas, Mr. Winchell." And he didn't acknowledge it. And he got out on his floor and didn't even give me a dime. So, I thought, "This is not good." So I told my buddies, I had a couple of buddies there, I said, look, "I'm going to open the elevator on the ground floor. I want you guys all to get in along with all the other people. And when you get out on each floor, I'm going to press floor two, floor four, floor six, floor eight. Anyway, when you get out, you say "Merry Christmas, son," and give me a dollar or hand me a couple of dollars." And so that's what we did. And pretty soon everybody in the elevator was pulling money out of their pocket and giving it to me.

Brilliant, I love that.

We go up and down, up and down, up and down all evening. Well, I had to work. God, Lord, if I had to work, shouldn't I get benefit? Anyway, that was a kind of neat way to get people to hand over some tips. Yes, because elevator operators don't get tips. Bellhops do. And I knew that. So, I kept looking for a job as a bellhop and finally I found one. Have you ever heard of the Fontainebleau Hotel?

No.

Oh, boy, you are really in the old days, in the dark ages. The Fontainebleau was the prime of Miami Beach. It was the most unusual looking hotel. It was a complete curve right on the beach. And I went in there to get a job, and I thought it rather strange that I didn't see any other bellhops. So, I went down to the basement where the office was and I went and I met the owner of the Fontainebleau Hotel. I wish I could remember his name anyway, He said he didn't even ask me any questions. He said, "You want a job? Go downstairs and see if you can find a uniform to fit. And if you do, you got the job." Well, what had happened is that they were on strike. [Oh, no.] And I didn't know. I never knew a thing about it. Not a thing. So, I go downstairs. I get my little top hat and my funny little uniform, which I still have a picture of me in it. And I come back upstairs and he says, "Okay, go to the front door and wait there, anybody needs help." Bingo. That was it. I checked in Gary Cooper. I'll never forget that. I checked in Cyd Charisse and Tony Martin. I checked in a lot of famous people. They were very cheap, those people, though. It's funny, the less famous they were, the more generous they were. Anyway, that was my story with Miami Beach. And we stayed.

How did you guys get out of there?

Well, good question. We went to another company, another motor company, and asked them. They had shipping cars to the West Coast. And I said, "We would like to take a car to the West Coast, to Los Angeles." Well, he said, "I don't have one going to Los Angeles, but I do have one going to Palm Springs, which is pretty close." I said, "Okay, we'll take it." And we packed up, said goodbye to all the friends we'd made over the time we were there. We had a really good time in Miami. I got pictures that shows us having a lot of fun and enjoying ourselves. Well, we were single young guys, you know. [Yes.] And we were prancing around all the nice hotels, meeting all the young ladies and I had a date for a week and a half with one of the tourists. So that was a kind of fun thing.

Where did you say you were living there?

Pardon?

Where did you stay when you were living there?

Living there, we first of all, we stayed in a motel, and we couldn't stay there very long until we got jobs. And then we moved. We moved into an apartment. It wasn't in a nice part of town. But nevertheless, it was somewhere to live.

And it was a month to month, I assume.

Yes, we got out of there. Now, November, we're there and December. And we got out, we had to get out of there pretty soon because comes January, February, those are the peak months in Miami Beach, and we knew we couldn't afford to stay. Rents would be staggering and we'd be in trouble. So that's why we went to a car dealer again and he did find us a car. And like I said, we made our way, packed up and packed our gear up, which wasn't much, and started the journey. Of course, when he told us where we were going, Palm Springs, he didn't tell us which way to go. So, we made our own plans. I got a beautiful map and I'm looking at all the wonderful places that we can stop, through Louisiana, New Orleans, Texas, everywhere under the sun. And we did it all. It took so long. It's a wonder the owner of the car didn't wonder why it took us so long. But anyway, great time going across America. I have pictures of every state we crossed and every place that we went. Some amazing, amazing stuff.

Yes, that sounds like a really great adventure.

It was an adventure, yes. We weren't afraid of anything, but we're all together, you know.

The two of you, or were there more of you?

Three.

Oh, you've got a new person with you. Yes, and I'll tell you who that was. It goes back a little bit. I had a girlfriend in England. And whose brother was living in New York. And so, we got there, we said hello to him, and he was supposed to go to New York University. Well, he was there for that reason. His father owned a chain of stores in England, a chain of knitting shops, wool shops, and he was supposed to take over the business. Well, when he met us, he changed his whole mind, "I'm going with you." We said, "Your father will kill you." "I don't care," he said, "I don't want to stay here." So, he had a big row with his dad, and he came with us.

Okay, so he came with you starting in New York.

Yes,

I see. I see. It's striking me that, you know, it's the 50s, maybe even the early 60s. Right. And so, you're driving across the country at what I think is really the beginning of the height of American car culture and road trip culture. [Yes. Yes.] Yes, so can you speak to that a little bit? Like, what were the roads like? You may have been experiencing early roadside attractions. Did you notice anything like that?

Yes, and early freeways. Excuse, excuse me. [Coughing]

Oh, take a moment.

Yes. First of all, we had left England and between us, we only had one car and that was mine. It was a little Austin 7, a 1937 Austin 7. It was a real old piece of junk. We get to America, and the first car we're having to take, was a 1955 Chrysler. That must have been the year that we got there.

Like a brand-new car?

We thought this was heaven. What a car. And so that was the first car. The second car in Miami Beach was a Chrysler New Yorker. And they all seem like, you know, I don't know what the word is, but they all seem like magical, magical cars. We had never been so excited to drive anywhere. And we started off, you know, the right way, stopping in all the places that people never go to. The Grand Canyon, we stopped at every place. And it took us almost two weeks to get across the country. I have to drink something.

Yes, it's been about 40 minutes. Do you want to take a quick break and get something to drink?

Yes. Yes.

Do you want to just take five minutes, and I'll press stop?

Yes. Okay. Okay.

And here we go.

Okay, hello. You talked about the roads. Because I just came from war-torn England. Nothing about the roads seems bad. It seemed that they were the most perfect roads in the whole world. I'd never seen roads as good as these before I left England.

That makes sense.

And so obviously what you're thinking is that I would maybe see all beaten down roads? No, I thought it was spectacular and so easy to find gas stations. And we started off, you know, going up the Florida Peninsula, because we were in Miami, we're going up the peninsula, and then you turn left, and now you're in New Orleans. And to me, the thought of New Orleans was very exciting. Although I have to tell you that the reality was disappointing. Yes, in those days, anyway.

What did you find?

Well, I'm a jazz enthusiast, music lover. So, New Orleans means music. [Yes.] And, and that kind of thing. And the bands and Louis Armstrong. So, coming into New Orleans was such a disappointment. I don't know what I expected, to be honest with you. But it didn't excite me at all. And we went down to Basin Street. Yes, I took a picture of Basin Street, the sign, and nothing else there. It was just boring as hell. And I was disappointed in the whole place. So, we stayed there a day or two or something, and then we took off again and just kept going along the coast. I'm trying to think what was next. Probably Texas. That I remember very clearly because it was sort of the middle of the night. We never stopped driving. We just kept driving all the time. Coming into Texas, there's an actual sign that says you are entering the state of Texas. And I had to stop everybody and say, "Hey, let's get out. Take a picture. We're in Texas,." And to an Englishman, it is less a state than a state of mind. You know, it gives you a feel of everything big and tough and all the things we see in England in the movies, which was not reality, but for us, it was now becoming reality. And so. Yes. It was a thrill, to come across the border. And in Texas, we went to Houston. And now it's around February. And I had a birthday coming up. So, the boys took me to the music shop and bought me an album. And something else, but I can't remember what it is. Nevertheless, we celebrated my birthday in Houston, Texas. That would have been my 21st, I think. 21st birthday. Yes. And so, from there, onward and upward. I can't remember unless I had a map in front of me.

That's okay. Yes.

Where I was going, but west all the time, west, west. But then we noticed a sign that said something about. Some very famous area. I wish I could think of it. It's famous for its cliffs or rocks, something. Geez, I can't remember. What? [Speaking off camera] Well, no, that was a bit later, Grand Canyon. Yes, I remember that. I remember that. No, this was some. Oh, my gosh. Well, whatever it was, it was a thrill to come across this area. And of course, like Jay said, we came to the Grand Canyon, and I could not believe anything could be more spectacular is that in my whole life. [Yes] I's just amazing to see it and to peer down into that vast interior. And, you know, England's very small compared to America, but everything seemed big here. [Yes] Very big.

Yes, certainly.

We always wait for the signs and then decide which way to go. It doesn't have to be Los Angeles if it says Las Vegas. So, it said Las Vegas. And so, we turned and took off to Las Vegas. We drove in and got out of the car, and we walked into one of these giant palaces that are there. And as we walked in, right in front was a glass wall. With two pieces of glass and enclosed was one million dollars in hundred-dollar bills. Enclosed in the glass, that was like an attraction. And we went crazy. We have never seen that much money ever. And so, it was quite, quite extraordinary. So, we went there, we went to Las Vegas. I can't remember anything specific other than we couldn't afford to go to the shows. It was just impossible. We had no money, no spare money at all. We had to save it for gas. So, we just kept driving on. What comes after Las Vegas? I don't know. But my goal was to drive my friends to Los Angeles. Dump them there somewhere, maybe my auntie's house, and go back and deliver the car in Palm Springs. [Right] That was what I did. I drove it. It was all in my name anyway. I drove the car to Los Angeles, met my auntie. She was so thrilled. I was the first relative to come to visit her after all these years that she'd been living there. And she was my mother's sister. So, we were quite close. [Right] The next day, I took the car, drove it back and back to Palm Springs. But before I delivered the car to the address that I was told, I went to a car wash and had it washed and polished. No matter what I was going to do, I wasn't going to deliver a dirty car. Good idea. And I drove up to the driveway, knocked on the door. "Mr. Jones?" "Yes," "I brought your car back." "Oh, how lovely. Thank you very much. Here's a ten-dollar bill for you." And he gave me a tip. I was glad I washed the car. Anyway, that was the end of that. Then I took a Greyhound bus with the ten bucks, and I got to Los Angeles, got to my aunt's. I don't know how I found all these places. If there's a way, we do it. Yes. And so, my aunt, we actually stayed at a house for a few days because we had nowhere to live, and the three of us had to get jobs. And I think her house was in Lillianthal Avenue.

What did it look like? Were there kids there? What was the energy of the house?

Oh. Yes, she had a daughter. Her daughter was Stephanie, and a son. She had a son and I can't think of his name. Terrible. I have it written down, but nevertheless, they were there, and her husband, Albert. And he's the one who owned a dry-cleaning company there. It was called Prince Albert's. Yes. He played on the old English verbiage. But anyway, it was a way of. He presented himself as different from all the others. And he told me, you know, you have a job as soon as you're ready. And I was ready right away. Now, my buddies, of course, had to go looking for work, look for jobs, or do something. And the brother of the girlfriend back in England wasn't too happy about looking for a job. So he called his father, who sent him a ticket, and he went back to England. [Oh, Okay.] Bit of a chicken fit, I think. [But I wonder-] Why he didn't have the courage to face a pretty rough life when he came from a very wealthy family. Whereas I didn't.

I'm curious about what you noticed about L.A., like you described, you know, coming into New York and the thrill of that. But by the time you got to L.A., you'd seen so many things.

Yes, we'd seen so much. We'd seen Houston and we'd seen all in between New Orleans and all that other stuff. God, it's racking my brain, breaking my head to remember the name of that place we visited that I'd forgotten about. Anyway, it'll come up. L.A. was different. L.A. was not high-rises. It was all low. Well, out in Westchester, anyway, where she lived. I never went to downtown L.A. I stayed out there. And, and, and his, his, his dry-cleaning store was. The corner of La Tijera. And that was one of the main streets in L.A., Okay. So, I went to work there. What was the work? Take the truck and go round to these addresses that I'm giving you and pick up dirty clothes. So that was my job. One of the people that I picked up clothes from, and we were, if you imagine it in sort of Hollywood. So, I was picking up homes from some pretty well-known people, although personally, I can't remember them except a famous singer. Who had seven octaves in her voice. Yma Sumac, Y-M-A-S-U-M-A-C. You'd better look her up. [Okay, I will] I'd pick up her clothes and take them back to the plant, and they'd all be cleaned, and then I'd pick them up and take them back out. And that was my job every day.

What else did you get up to around there?

Well, the thing was, because Bobby had to go back to England, and Dave was searching for work. And, somehow, and I can't remember the details, but he met a girl. He met a girl who was going to UCLA. And she said to him, "Why don't you come back to school? You're still young, you know." And so he thought about it and decided that that's what he was going to do. And that person, today. who, who's the same age as me, became a professor of Political Science at Duke University. And you heard of Duke?

I've heard of Duke.

He started right there. He got his first degree, second, whatever the other one is. Then he got a master's, then he got the next one. What's the next one up? He went all the way.

Amazing.

Brilliant guy. Brilliant. And to this day, we still are in touch.

That's really cool.

Yes, I think so. What else do you want to know? My life in L.A., well, I had to develop a life, I had to get a car. I couldn't stand being without a car in L.A. Nobody can. And I worked at the shop. Did I ever get another job? Yes, I did. I was tired of the dry-cleaning business, and I knew that I had a skill with Persian and antique carpets. [Right] So, I went around to those kinds of places and I landed a job. Yes. I landed a job at. Oh, well, doesn't matter what. You don't remember. I don't remember the name. [That's Okay.] It was a nice guy, and he gave me the job, and I just stayed there until I missed my home. I missed England very much. I got very homesick.

What did you miss?

The family. I only have my auntie there. [Right.] And you know that her children were much, much younger than me. So, there was no connection there very much. Did you say something? [Talking off camera] No. Oh, I am. I just wanted to go home. Haven't you ever been homesick?

Oh, yes, of course. Just curious if there was anything in particular. Yes, I do have to ask about your auntie. Like, was she participating in any Jewish community in L.A.?

Oh, yes. Yes. Yes. I don't know what. But she was in the synagogue there, and actually everywhere we went, we contacted whatever synagogue was available, just to visit and talk to people.

On your road trip?

On the road trip, there was nothing. [Right] Because we were in a really rough country. Texas, not many, not many Sephardic synagogues.

But where do you mean that you would always stop and look up a synagogue? Like in Miami?

Big cities. Yes. Even there, it was very difficult because the job I had was very weird hours. It was early in the morning. Very early. And then you got off at noon. You went home, you went to the beach, you had something to eat. And then you went back to work again at three or four o'clock in the afternoon and stayed there until late in the evening. So there wasn't much chance of any socializing with the local community. [Right] And I didn't. So.

But you would go-are you saying you would go to the synagogues you knew were along the way in Florida and on the road trip and in L.A., and you would go there and do what? Say hello? Hi? Like, what did you do there?

Well, I'm trying to think of any that I remember distinctly. I don't remember much detail about any of them, because obviously we didn't spend, you know, any time with them. I do remember when we first arrived in L.A. All Jewish mothers wanted to fix us up with their daughters. I know that. I remember that. But we did date them, and we went out with them, and we had a lovely time with them, and we were sorry to say goodbye in the end when I was going to fly back to England. Yes.

Okay, so after a while you decided you missed home and you, you bought a ticket home?

Yes, I wanted to get home. Somebody I had met in Miami Beach while I was a bellhop was Jewish, and I started going out with her for a while and then her mother was with her, and her mother came and told me that she's getting a divorce. I didn't even know she was married. And she didn't exactly tell me that she was getting a divorce. And I thought, "Oh, dear, I don't want this to get too serious. So, I'd better make a move." And I just moved on. Yes, I moved on. Yes, but that particular girl. Gloria, her name was Gloria. And, when I decided to fly back to England. I knew my plane was going to land in, I believe, Chicago or Minneapolis or somewhere. It never used to go nonstop, at least the cheap way anyway. So, I sent her a note, a written note that I was going to be in Minneapolis on a certain day, and, and if she's around, maybe she can meet me at the airport. I can't believe it, but she did. She was there at the airport waiting for me. And we got out and we went and had coffee. I mean, we talked until I had to get back on the plane again, which was later in the evening. And knd of a funny, amazing thing. [Yes] Yes, that's the real thing that didn't give her any details like what airline I was on, even. I mean, that was so stupid, but she found it. I don't know. She's found it.

So, tell me about seeing her. Sorry?

I'm sorry, what did you say? [Speakng off camera] Was this plugged in, Jay? No, is it supposed to be? I don't know. I was just lying there like that. Okay. Oh, why is it like that? Oh, Okay. Carry on.

Well, I'm thinking maybe we should make a few notes for what we want to talk about next time. And Okay. Call it for today. That sounds Okay. Yes. Very good. Okay.

I'm exhausted. Yes, fair enough.

Thank you. Mm hmm.

Okay. We're recording. Um, this is Ruth Kodish-Eskind, and it's May 12th, and I'm interviewing Ron Behar. Do I have your consent to record this interview?

Yes. If you call me by my proper name, Ron. It's Behar. No.

I'm sorry. Okay. Um, all this time, did I say it wrong? Every time?

Probably, but doesn't matter. I'm just kidding.

Okay. So, you told me about a story of experiencing a little bit of the Jim Crow South, and I wanted to ask you to tell that story on the recording, so that we can save it.

After we'd left them, uh, Miami, where we got stuck and had to get jobs, and the situation developed. I wanted to continue my trip to the West Coast, where my mother's sister lived and, and my mother's brother-in-law had a business, a dry-cleaning business. And he'd offered me a job if I'd come out there. So, that was the goal was to get there. And so, we found another company that shipped cars across the country for clients who didn't want to drive, but they wanted their car when they got to the West Coast. And there was a gentleman who lived in Palm Desert, and he wanted his car shipped there. So, we thought, well, that's close enough to the West Coast. So, we took the car and we began to drive up the isthmus of Florida and, all the way around to New Orleans, and saw and visited all the places that I thought were historic, but were very disappointing because it wasn't Basin Street like I expected. Being a jazz lover, it was a big deal for me.

And you know, Ron, we did record some of this part of the road trip story.

Okay, okay. Well, you'll have to clean it up anyway.

It's just fine. I just didn't want you to have to repeat yourself, but.

No, no, no. So, um, so, um.

You were remembering that there was like, a, I think it was a water fountain. Or maybe it was a bath.

We were driving across, and we were in Mississippi somewhere, and we stopped somewhere, and we wanted to get something to eat. So, we walked out into the street. There was, I think I told you this. There was a young black kid there, and he was, doing something in the street. And so, I had gone to a little store and bought ice cream for David and myself, an ice cream cone, and I offered this kid one. And he looked at me, and his eyes opened up so wide I thought he was terrified of me. I said, "Well, would you like an ice cream cone?" And he shook his head, and so I gave him one. Anyway, it was kind of unusual because we were not used to this kind of behavior. Then we walked a little further and we saw water fountain and it said Colored on one side and White on the other. And we were just shocked. We'd never seen anything like that in our lives before in England. So, I said, "Dave, let's take our pictures." And we took pictures. I was drinking out of the colored fountain, and Dave was drinking out of the white fountain, and we kept those pictures. We still have them and they're wonderful. But it was a it was very, a very strange experience. I never felt any negativity coming through the South, but I suppose that's because we were white, and not realizing that that was the reason. We just thought it was very odd, the way we experienced racial divide. And that was odd.

Yes. Can I ask either?

The water fountain were both the same water and that was so ridiculous. It's the same water. Just split the end into two fountains. So anyway. And you don't put your mouth on it; you just drink the water as it comes out. So, we were laughing and carrying on a whole bunch right there at that water fountain.

Can I ask you if you're Jewish identity affected the way you interpreted that situation?

No, not at all, not at all. I hadn't experienced too much. Um. Um, antisemitism in England, except one time, I think I told you about it when Sir Oswald Mosley was marching in London, antisemitic marching, and came down our street and started to beat up on my brother until the police stopped it. But I think I told you that. I think I don't know.

No, no, you did, I remember.

Okay, okay. Okay. So. Yes, I didn't feel it much, maybe in school one time, but other than that, no, I did not feel it.

Okay, so fast forward, and we're going to jump into your visit back to England. The first time that you visited England after this epic road trip, and working in the LA area for a while. You decide to go back home, and you said that you were visiting your family. You did some work at Prichard's there. Um, and you also reconnected with an old flame. Do you want to tell that story?

Yes. That's true, that's true. And so, I reconnected. She lived about 50 miles away in the small town, the small seaside town of Brighton. It's a very old Victorian town, very beautiful. But, um, you know, typical Victorian. And, uh, it's where the Queen would stay at certain times of the year. And, um, so, yes, I went down there, visited with her, and on and on. And eventually, she said that she would be-come to America with me, if I went back. If we got married, that is. And so that's how it went. We got engaged, and we got prepared for marriage. We had a huge wedding at Saint James's Palace in London, and it was very nice. I say it hesitantly, because I realize now I was so stupid. It was a mistake to get married, and I didn't realize it. She'd been chasing around with other guys, and the idea of going to America excited her so much that she was willing to marry me for that. Anyway. So, we did that. We planned it and packed up everything we had and owned and shipped it to America. Well, we know we took it to America. We went on, uh, I think we flew this time. Not on the boat. Yes. Um.

And you went to Seattle?

Yes. Landed in New York first. That's where the plane landed. And right then and there, checking into the Taft Hotel, where I had a friend who was staying there, going to New York City College or something like that-University. And he invited me to stay, he invited us because it was his sister that I was marrying and that I had married, and we, uh, I'm getting out of the cab or something, and I walked my future wife into the hotel. Go back out to get my luggage, and it's gone. It was stolen. Everything was stolen right off the sidewalk. Ah. Anyway, long story short, I didn't have a single thing. I didn't have any clothing except what I had on my body. And, I had to run out to a drugstore to get whatever I needed, and it was tough. Let me tell you, it was tough. So, anyway, that episode over with, we wanted to get away from New York as soon as possible. And so, we, um, we flew out to LA.

Okay, you did end up in Seattle eventually?

Yes. Yes. I took the job in LA that I was offered, and it provided me with a van, and I could run around. And my buddy was going to the University of California. Yes, UCLA. And so, I had, I had the van. I was able to have a lot of fun, visit beaches, and do stuff like that. But eventually he settled down in LA. Uh, the brother of my future, my existing wife, flew back to England on the threat of being disowned by his father. Enough with this playing around. He wanted him back in the business. And so, he went back. And I was alone then, and so I started to. What did I do? Oh, I was offered this job by my uncle in Seattle. And so, I made the trip up to the northwest. And I'm trying to think now whether I came up alone or, well, I've lost track of some of that. But anyway, I came up eventually and got the job and worked at the store on 85th and Aurora. I think I told you that.

Yes. That's great. Would you mind? I'm not sure if I got the name of that woman that you married.

Oh, Corinne. C-o-r-i-n-n-e.

Corinne.

Behar. Her last name was Behar. Same as mine, but no relation at all.

Oh, really? Yes.

No relation. There were a lot of people named Behar who came from where my father was born, which was Istanbul. I see. And I don't know whether it's because they took the name of the town, or where they lived, or whatever it was in Spain that the original Behar's came from. But anyway, his name was Behar too.

Okay. So, you come to Seattle, you get the job at 85th and Aurora. What's your first impression of the city or of that job? Do you remember?

Well, my first impression of the city was not a good one. It was overcast and dark and rainy, and I thought, "This is not like Miami Beach or LA. This is terrible." But I didn't have a choice. So, I stayed and tolerated it. Eventually got a nice little apartment, just off of Rainier Avenue. Where the stadium used to be. Where the baseball stadium on Rainier Avenue, across from there. It's called the Stadium Vista Apartments. That made sense, because you could see the stadium from the apartment. And that's where we lived and had the first child there. After a couple of years.

Mhm. What year was it that you first came to Seattle? Do you remember?

What's that?

Do you remember what year it was that you first came or thereabouts?

Oh boy.

Or you're the first kid was born just to get a time stamp.

Oh boy. I have to research that. I cannot remember.

That's okay. We can skip it.

My first son was born. His name was Gary, and then we moved into a house on the east side in Bellevue, and then a very inexpensive house. It was $13,000. And all you had to do was put down a thousand bucks, and you got it. And, I had a daughter named Tracy from that marriage. So, Gary and Tracy grew up right there in Seattle.

What brought you over to Bellevue? Was it just the cheap house or what?

Yes, yes, it was a much less expensive place. And it was modern. And it was prettier and much nicer than where I lived on Rainier Avenue. I can tell you. So, that was the reason. Yes. And I had the job on 85th and Aurora, where I was going every day.

Did you drive there, or what was your commute like?

Oh, at first my uncle would pick me up and take me, took me to the same time. And eventually I was looking around and I found a car, a 1950 Buick. Never forget that car. And it was at a dealership on Rainier Avenue. And I think I paid $50 or $150 somewhere in that range. And I had a car then, which was nice, and with the kids and was able to go around and visit and I had already been to Seattle once, you know that. Yes. Because my auntie tried to hook me up with people here to get married, but that didn't work. So, we were married for seven years, and I think she got the seven-year itch and didn't want to stay married anymore. And it was very upsetting to me. So, anyway, we got divorced.

Yes. Um, in that time, you became a dad. Do you want to talk about what it was like for you to become a dad?

Oh, I enjoyed those years with the kids. Yes. I enjoyed my son, and I enjoyed my daughter. And she was a very smart little whip of a girl. And she ended up in college in New York City.

How about the work at 85th and Aurora? The, the business. Like, how did it feel? Like the same kind of thing you've been doing or did you learn new.

The same kind of things I was doing before? [Yes] No, this was modern carpet, not Persian antiques. This was modern broadloom rolls of carpet. I would go out to the houses, and I would measure the floors. I would figure out how much they needed. I would figure out the square yardage. And then I would give them an estimate and try to sell it. And that was it.

Um-hm.

We would also make rugs by putting fringes on small pieces and, uh. Yes, pretty boring. But it was an experience that I knew I could handle. I wasn't afraid because, you know, I knew how to sew. I knew how to cut. I knew how to weave. I knew how to do the measuring. Well, then I had to learn. But I learned from an expert, my Uncle Barney. And, uh, I did it pretty much quite well.

Yes, so it sounds like you did the bidding and the estimate and the selling. But did you also do the install, or did someone else install it?

No. We hired a couple of guys that did all of our installation.

Okay.

That doesn't mean I haven't done it, I have. When forced to. And in a typical situation where there was nobody else around. Yes, I've done it, but it's very difficult without all the proper equipment to stretch the rug, hook it onto the tack strip and then release it so that it's a tight fit. But that was not what I wanted to do for a living.

Yes. So, we're talking like wall-to-wall carpet. [Yes.] I see. Yes.

Yes. Wall-to-wall carpet. And during that time, I don't know why, but I think I've already mentioned to you that there was a store across the street that became empty. Did I tell you that?

No. Tell me about that.

Oh, well, we were quite friendly with all the people around us on 85th and Aurora and across the street, there was a beautiful fabric store, and it had big, big windows. Much nicer than ours. And it came empty. They moved out. They moved to an even bigger place. And so, I asked my uncle, I think we should move over there and have a bigger store and expand and do this and that, and he absolutely wouldn't do it. He was very afraid. He was very timid when it came to things like that. But I had nothing to lose, so I wanted to do it. So, when I realized that he was never going to budge, I started thinking about my own business. And I had met this individual, who had taken a liking to me. And one day he stopped at the store, took me out for lunch. He said, "Ron, I found a location, I want to show it to you." And he drove me there and showed me this building, which would make a really nice carpet store. It was all glass in front, but I didn't know the history of the building when that time. I should explain that later. Anyway, I didn't know the history, so I said, "Yes, that'd be a great place." He said, "Would you leave your uncle and come and run it? It'll be your store. I'll just take 50% of the profit, and I'll pay the moving-in fees." And so I said, "Yes." And I told my uncle, and he was very upset, naturally, because he was getting on in years. And this was his way of getting out of the hard work of doing it and having me take over. So I felt bad about it. I still feel bad about it, but, nevertheless, I had to do it, and I did it. I opened his store up, I remodeled it, I worked inside, I had a friend who had managed to emigrate from England, and I told him that if he comes now, you're coming now, I will give you a job there. And, so I did, and he and I ran this business; Behar Carpets, it was called. I put a big sign up, and interestingly enough, people thought it was a type of carpet rather than the name of the owner. And so, I did pretty good business there. But unbeknownst to me and known to the person who recommended this place to me, the store was destined to be in the way of the freeway, the new West Seattle Freeway. And I started after two years, getting notices. You're going to have to move. We're going to be moving into that area. Construction will start. Oh my God, I thought that was terrible. I didn't know what to do. So, I think, yes, I remember all that vividly. So, we just kept working there, and towards the end, I was running a going-out-of-business sale.

Yes.

And running it from there. And eventually, the bulldozers were next to my building. And in the middle of the night, I had to find. Well, I had a truck. I had to load up the truck with everything that was left in the building and get out of there before midnight.

Yes.

And we drove it away, and they tore down the building, and they put in a freeway. The West Seattle Freeway. Alki.

Yes. Did you choose a new spot or what did you do with the business then?

Well, there was no business then, right? So it was gone. Um. So, so the friend who had suggested I open the business offered to have me run his furniture store in Everett, Washington.

Okay.

And that's what I did. I moved up to Everett. I lived up there. I brought the friend who was helping me, and he came, and we started working there at what was then called Furniture City. It was a disaster of a business. It had a terrible manager who was an out-and-out crook. And Oh, God. I spent the first two years taking care of complaints. But anyway, it was my opportunity, and I took it, and I made a pretty good success of it because, when my friend that introduced me to it, the same friend that wanted to get me out of the carpet business and, and work for him told me that, "Ron, I'm going to leave this business and I'm going to start building apartments in Seattle." And I said, "Wow, what do you want me to do?" And he says, "Well, you can buy the inventory from me. Half price. Of course, you already paid for half of it. And you can keep the store if you want to keep it, or you can leave." So, I had no other choice. So, I enlisted the help of a guy named Mike Mastro, who was the manager of People's Bank in Seattle. And he helped me get a loan, and I paid Mr. Gamel off. And I kept Furniture City, which I quickly made into Behar's Furniture, and carried on. I expanded it, and I put a new building next door. I built a giant warehouse. It was almost a city block long by the time I finished the construction.

Yes, that sounds big. Did you find it difficult to transition from carpet to furniture?

No, I didn't. I had a good man. You won't believe this, but I had a good man in the store. And guess what? His name was a Behar.

Yes. [Laughing]

The name was Marv Behar. Another Behar that is from a totally different part of the world. Anyway, it was odd. He was running a little store on Rainier Avenue in Seattle, and he came up to Everett, and he taught me the business, basically, and he taught me my own business. So, I hired him to be the manager, and I became the owner and I kept it for 55 years.

Oh.

Yes.

That's a while.

Yes.

Yes. All right. So, you really took it from a small store, and then you ended up taking it over completely. Learning the entire business.

Right. And it was a little Tradewell store, that's what it was. Tradewell Grocery. And my friend had put it into furniture, and then I took it and made it. Furniture, carpet store next door, and so on and so forth.

Okay, so you did incorporate the carpets eventually.

I did. Yes, yes, it would help a lot. It was a good addition to the business. And I had two trucks then, and I remodeled everything. I took the name off the top and put Behar's Furniture up there, and that was where I was when I remarried to my late wife.

Yes. Do you want to say her name?

Oh, yes, her name-I'm not going to say Gail Behar. Yes, her name was Gail G-A-I-L Calderon C-A-L-D-E-R-0-N.

Okay. How did you meet?

Um. Oh, I had my Uncle Barney, who started me at the carpet store. His wife was an original person from Seattle, and she had a really good friend, and she wanted me. She wanted a friend to introduce me to her niece. And that was. That was Gail. And that was just beautiful. And we stayed married 52 years.

Yes.

So. Yes.

Did you and Gail have children as well?

Yes, yes, we had two children. We had my son Michael and my son Jay.

Can I ask you about Michael and Jay, and also Gary and Tracy? .

Yes.

And I'm curious if any of those children became involved in Jewish life in Seattle in any way.

Well, Jay did for sure.

Yes. When they were growing up, did you have them do bar mitzvahs and-

I was never a very religious person. I knew you had my bar mitzvah, like everybody, but, um, basically that was it. I went to Jewish clubs, and you know, when you're traveling like I was and, you know, delving into the new world, you, you got to adapt to the new world. You can't fit in the old world and just hang on to that. It just doesn't work. So, yes, I was involved in the synagogue here. I was involved in just you know, I had my own seat. I had my kids come. They were all bar mitzvah there.

What was the name of the synagogue?

Uh, the Bikur Holim, Bikur Holim, B I-K-U-R-H-O-L-I-M.

And what does it mean that you had your own seat? Is that what you said?

Yes. Yes, I paid for a membership.

I see.

And had my seat next to my father-in-law who had one before me. Not that I loved it, because it was right in the front row. And the rabbi could always tell if you weren't there. But I gave up worrying about that a long time ago.

Yes, I ask about-I know that you mentioned being, yes, not very religious, but I know sometimes when you become a parent, those things change a little bit. So, I'm curious.

Yes, I had my kids go to Hebrew School, so they went to Hebrew School in Seattle, and there was a lot of involvement, especially because my mother's brother married to Betty. Her name was Betty, Betty Hanson, I think, and then she became Betty Benardout, which is my uncle's name. My mother's name. Benardout. Um, yes, that was mostly the involvement. So, the kids carried on, and even though they didn't really like it, it really slowed them down as far as progressing in education. They felt that it did. I didn't know that it was not as good as a public school, but it wasn't.

Oh, I see the school was it was entirely a Hebrew School, not just a school program.

No, it was a full school. I see. And, uh. Yes, they had to stay there, but you know, they got through it.

Yes.

He can tell you about that.

Do you want to tell me more about your second marriage? Yes? Like what-ow did that changed your life?

Well, first of all, it couldn't have been better. She's the most wonderful person I could ever, ever expect. And we had a lovely, lovely marriage together. Makes me mad that it was so short. And she had no sickness. She played tennis with me. She played tennis three times a week with her girlfriends. She was a real athlete. There was no sickness involved at all. She just one day sitting here in my living room and said, after I built this big house, she said, "I don't feel good." So, I said, "Maybe it's what you ate." She said, "No, I just feel like I want to throw up or something." So, she got up and went to the bathroom, and dead silence. And I kept calling, "Honey, honey, what are you doing?" And I went in there and she was on the floor. And I oh, I don't want to remember it, but I was pumping her chest, and I couldn't get any response.

I'm so sorry.

So very painful. You have no idea how painful it was. Especially for the children too. So. Never know how both of her parents, by that time, had passed away. And normally, you know. And now she's in the same cemetery where I'm going to be right next to her.

Thanks for sharing that.

Yes.

You said, "I built this big house." Where? Where did you move to after Everett?

After Everett, after Everett-during Everett, I had the carpet store at the same time. So, when I closed out the carpet store, I simply moved back up to Everett and expanded it and made it bigger and did all the things necessary. Uh, and I kept commuting. And then when we were married, we lived in Bellevue, first in an apartment, then in a house. Little house in Bellevue. And then, um, when my in-laws passed away, one by one, first the father and then the mom. Gail said, "Why don't we take that property, tear that house down, and build a new one?" And so that's what I did. Gail had a sister, Robin, and I had to pay her half of what the value was, which wasn't very much at the time. It was about $600,000, maybe, for this waterfront home. And so, I did. I borrowed the money, and I started building.

Amazing.

Well, if you saw it, all of it, you would understand how beautiful it is. You can't see the view. You can, you know.

No, I can't.

I guess I have to go like that and then open the blinds. I don't know where my son is now.

That's okay.

I'll be talking to his brother, who just called.

Do you want to take a little break? It's been about 40 minutes.

Yes, I would like to.