SARA KLOMPUS ORAL HISTORY

CHRISTA WHITNEY: This is Christa Whitney, and today is February 9th, 2015. I'm here in Boca Raton, Florida with Sara Klompus. We're going to record an interview as part of the Yiddish Book Center's Wexler Oral History Project. Sara, do I have your permission to record?

SARA KLOMPUS: Yes, you do.

CW:Thank you. So, to start, can you tell me what you know about your family background?

SK:Well, I've been learning about my family background, just in the past few years. And I know that, first of all, my maiden name is Silverman. So, I'm originally from Washington, DC and my parents were both in New York, Brooklyn, and then ended up in DC. But my father's side of the family was from Pinsk, 1:00Belarus, and I visited that country several times, which we'll get to later on. And my mother's side of the family, as I found out, was actually from Vilna, from Lithuania. So, I feel drawn to that part of the country. My grandmother used to talk about Russia, that she was from Russia. Never Lithuania. But it wasn't till after she passed away that I found out that she was actually from Kovno, Kaunas, in Lithuania. And, of course, it's too late to ask questions. But I always seem to be doing things a day late and a dollar short, so I didn't get to ask those questions.

CW:And do you -- what do you know about your grandparents', great-grandparents' lives in Eastern Europe?

SK:Not a lot. I know that it was difficult. The stories that I heard -- was that my grandmother's mother perished in a pogrom and -- in Russia-slash-Lithuania, 2:00and that was the reason that they came. I think it was the early 1900s, 1908. And you know, I've been involved with genealogy, I've looked on Ancestry.com, and I'm not a computer person. And I don't know the ship that she came over on. She came as a little girl. Her parents came separately. Her brothers went somewhere else. So, again, unfortunately, it is all splintered, and I don't know as much as I would like to know. I did meet my father's mother. I'm sorry, I met my father's father, but I'm named after my father's mother, Sara Silverman. And my grandmother on my mother's side, I only knew her. I never met my grandfather on that side. But I will say, with regard to Yiddishkayt, I grew up in Washington, DC and I attended the Hebrew Academy of Washington for nine years. And both my parents wanted me to have a Jewish education. And at the time, that 3:00was the only school in the DC area that was Orthodox. It was a yeshiva. So, although we weren't Orthodox at home, I attended a Conservative synagogue -- we walked to shul, I went to a yeshiva. But the significant part of the school was that I would say about ninety percent -- maybe that's stretching it, but a large percentage of the students there were children of Holocaust survivors. So, I was always surrounded by Eastern European accents and people and food. And that became second nature to me. And so, growing up, I've always been drawn towards Eastern European people, whether dating them or being friends with them. And so, that's in my background, not exactly from my parents but from my surrounding friends.

CW:Well, I want to go back just for a second: what do you know about your ancestors' occupations in Eastern Europe, if anything?

SK:I don't know what my maternal side did, my grandmother. I really don't. Well, actually, when they came to America, my grandfather became a plumber. Their name was Wolk, W-O-L-K, my mother's maiden name. And my grandmother became a seamstress, and this is how they basically supported themselves in the United States. My grandmother, they had nine children. My mother was one of nine children. On my father's side of the family, he was one of eight children. And what I know about his grandfather was that he was a silversmith. And that's, I guess, the name Silverman, silversmith. And what I know about him: his name was Chaim Leib Zilberman, and he would travel throughout Eastern Europe selling his silver products. They were Judaica products. They might be a yad, the hand that you use when you read the Torah, or kiddush cups. And I have some of them to 5:00show you later on. But he used to travel in an area called Libau, where there were many Jews in Riga, Latvia. And he would travel all over, I was told. And that's probably why they were able to come over to the United States before the war. And so, then my grandfather, Jacob, I think they referred to him as Yankl Silverman, he actually was in the cigar business. So, how that happened, I don't know exactly. And then, when they came over into DC, they owned a grocery store. So, like most immigrants, that's what they would do to make a living, and somehow, they made it.

CW:Wow. Are there any other family stories that have been passed down? Did you hear any stories about -- from the family background?

SK:Yeah, I must be from the clan that didn't really talk about their past. And 6:00truthfully, I mean, I hate to say it, but mame-loshn [mother tongue] -- Yiddish was never my mame-loshn and it was never really spoken in my house. A lot of kids will say, Oh, they would use Yiddish so that you couldn't understand what they were saying. But my parents were firstborn, first generation in the States. I don't ever remember my parents speaking Yiddish. But yet, they were both very close to their parents who -- they were immigrants. And so, I guess I was kind of raised like an immigrant to that extent. But the only Yiddish words I would hear were cuss words from my father. I don't really want to repeat them. I remember one phrase, and I happen to tell you, I use it all the time, but it's nasty. And so, my Yiddishkayt didn't come from them directly, per se. And again, the stories that I heard were hardship. It was all hardship, over in the Old Country. And they did their best to educate us and to show us -- to keep 7:00Yiddishkayt, to keep us connected. And I think that's the one thing that I do have, even though I didn't learn Yiddish from them. I really stayed connected to Yiddishkayt and all things Yiddishkayt. And it wasn't until my later years that I really began to delve into learning Yiddish.

CW:Right. So, I want to definitely talk about yeshiva, but can you just tell me briefly about your home? What was Jewish about your home and what was the culture of your home growing up?

SK:I have pleasant memories. I'm smiling because it's kind of divided into two sections. And growing up, we grew up in Washington, DC, and at the time it was really a wonderful time. I mean, I loved DC. I have to tell you, I just loved it. If you ever have the chance to go, you should go.

CW:What neighborhood were you in?

SK:We lived in Northwest Washington off of Sixteenth and Gallatin Street, across from Carter Barron. And Carter Barron is a huge amphitheater, outdoor and 8:00indoor. They had concerts there. Now they're known for their tennis programs, and they play -- they used to call it the Virginia Slims. But there is a tennis tournament there every summer. It's pretty hot. But it was a great neighborhood. It was very Jewish from what I remember. Northwest Washington, we were surrounded by Jewish people. There must have been at least five synagogues, Conservative, Orthodox, it was just a wonderful area to grow up. It was considered very safe, and we would walk to synagogue every Friday night. I don't think I ever missed going to shul. And although we weren't religious, (clears throat) excuse me, we went to shul every Friday night. My mother lit candles. And every Saturday morning, I'd go to shul. And my best friend growing up was Blume Friedman. Her father was the cantor of B'nai Israel on Sixteenth Street. She's still one of my best friends. She lives in New York. But her parents were 9:00Holocaust survivors, and that was my second home. My father was very protective of me, I guess because he was an immigrant, and he watched -- he hovered over his children, but he allowed me to spend my time at Blume's house, which I did. Her father was from Czechoslovakia, and he was one of the greatest cantors I've ever heard. I mean, to this day, I can still hear his booming, barrel chest voice. And it was through synagogue that I learned to sing. I wanted to be a cantor, actually. But back then, girls weren't cantors. And, in fact, it was a traditional synagogue. Even though we sat together, it wasn't separate seating, the choir consisted only of boys. Only of males. Girls were not allowed to be in the choir. So, one Friday night, the cantor thought, Oh my God, this must be my daughter Blume singing, singing "Adon olam [Hebrew: Master of the universe]" and all these beautiful songs. Well, turned out it was me. So, I learned how to sing, really, in synagogue. And so, that was my second home. It was just such a 10:00pleasant upbringing. And so, we celebrated all the holidays. Tu b'shvat, and I remember eating the bokser, this hard candy. I don't know if you've ever tasted it. And we would spend sukes [Sukkos]. We would have this beautiful, big structure. I mean, it was a gorgeous, gorgeous synagogue. I still remember the seats were maroon. Maroon is one of my favorite colors. So, I have really pleasant memories. I even got married in that synagogue. And that's not such a pleasant memory, but we won't go there. But it was just entirely part of my life. And I carried that over with me. And I think a Jewish education always, or it should, have that effect on children. But what happened in DC -- and you want to ask me a question, I'll let you ask me -- (laughter)

CW:I just was wondering if you could describe the synagogue a little more. What 11:00did it look like and smell like inside?

SK:Oh, boy. It had a beautiful, big sanctuary. And, again, it was -- you would walk in and there would be a feeling of awe. It was this crushed velvet -- maroon seats. It was really a traditional big, big synagogue. I think there was an upstairs section. It wasn't a huge section for women, because, as I said, we sat together. But it was a huge sanctuary. And then, there would be a separate chapel for the junior congregation, which of course I would go to. I went to Hebrew classes there. They had a big, big, big sukkah, and they had a great big social hall. But the thing is when you would walk into the synagogue, in the front, you had to walk up many, many steps. And you'd see the big, big Jewish star on the front of the building. And even walking inside, there was, in the foyer, there was just a beautiful big area, again, with another Jewish star. But 12:00the amazing thing was during this, the '60s, we would shul hop. So, even though we had moved out of DC at that point, people would go back and congregate on those big steps leading into the synagogue. You didn't even have to go to shul at that point. Everybody would hang out in the front and congregate. There were some really, really good times, 'cause there were other synagogues. There was Adas Israel, which is still there and it's also a beautiful shul, Tifereth Israel. Ohev Sholom is now making a huge comeback. Unfortunately, B'nai Israel moved to Rockville, Maryland, and then it became the Nineteenth Street Baptist Church. So, B'nai Israel is no longer, unfortunately. But still, when I drive by Sixteenth Street, I still remember those memories of having tuna fish on a Saturday morning for kiddush, and just those wonderful times as a little kid, running throughout the shul. I'm not sure that kids experience that anymore like 13:00we did back then.

CW:And what was the style of the shul? Was it from a particular region or --

SK:It was Ashkenazi. I don't think it had a style, per se. It was probably modern. It wouldn't be -- some of the synagogues you go into, I know, in Eastern Europe have all kinds of drawings of lions and this and that. I don't really think we had that. I just remember it that the beauty came from within, from the people there and the activities. So, that's what I remember the most, and the cantor, and his wife Feygele, her name was Feygele, and she would make the best apple strudel that you've ever tasted in your life. I mean, she would stretch the dough from one end of the room to the other, so -- and we'd spend Passovers at their house, long drawn out seders. But looking back at -- it's all good. (laughs)

CW:So, as a kid, did you have a favorite yontev [holiday]?

SK:A favorite yontev. Well, I liked Yom Kippur when I didn't have to fast. But I think that generally -- I mean, I've always loved Rosh Hashanah with the New Year and the apples and the dipping honey. But I think my favorite holiday is really Sukkot, sukes. And being in the sukkah with other people and decorating it and all the sweets, 'cause I have a sweet tooth. And so, the other thing was, even in the school that I went to, in the yeshiva, we would pray there. The Hebrew word is daven. That may even be Yiddish. But we would get there in the morning and daven, early in the morning, eight o'clock, for shakhres, the morning services. And so, although I didn't spend holidays there, per se, I was 15:00-- for the non-yontef holidays, I was there. So, I would celebrate both in the synagogue and in the school. And it was kind of like a double dose, so to speak. (laughs)

CW:And who were your teachers in the yeshiva? Were they from Europe, or --

SK:Yeah. A lot of them were truly rabbis. And I remember this one guy, Rabbi Burko. I think he must have had two suits: one for Shabbos and one for the rest of the year. So, we were kids. We were kids, and whenever he would come over, everybody would kind of hold their nose. But his favorite phrase was sheket b'vakasha, which means quiet, please. 'Cause you can understand, we were rowdy kids. And then, we had a teacher named Rabbi Silver. Mrs. Mantel was our English teacher, 'cause we would have -- half the morning was Hebrew and the other half 16:00was English classes. But they were very strict, very disciplined. Mr. Shapiro was my favorite teacher of all time. Miss Verner was from Canada. She was a tough one. But to this day, on Facebook, kids put their menorah -- we just recently celebrated Hanukkah, and in -- Morah [Hebrew: Teacher] Bacha was her name, and she was from Europe -- would have all of us in the first grade make menorahs out of clay. And you won't believe this, but I'm still friends with many of my students that went to the Hebrew Academy, and they still have their menorahs from Morah Bacha's class in first grade. (laughs) I mean, that goes way back. But it's really kind of neat. So, we all compare those stories. Just have to understand it was a very small class. I had thirty-five kids in my graduating class from the ninth grade, and then I went to a school with 560 students, so it was a stretch. But in my class, my individual classes, there were only fifteen, 17:00sixteen of us. So, we got individualized attention. Rabbi Bernstein probably was my savior, because I was no saint by the time we got into junior high school. I was rowdy. By then, it's when you're kind of talking about some of these stories that you're studying, they don't make sense because the Torah was for back then, the Old Country. And since I'd been to the Old Country, now I can understand. But when you're talking about what you should do if you see a goat on the side of the road, when you're fifteen years old, you just can't relate to it. But it was a lot of fun. It was difficult. I mean, it was hard work, but I don't regret going to the Hebrew Academy at all. It was really probably a fine part of my education. I'm thankful now. Going through it was tough, but I'm glad I did it.

CW:(laughs) So, can you tell me more about your friends, family, and what it was 18:00like to be sort of growing up also in that home?

SK:Yeah. Many of my friends were children of survivors. And it became my norm, really. I'm used to always seeing Judaica, whether it's candlesticks, menorahs, pictures of sages, rabbis on the wall. But when I would go to Cantor Friedman's house, and I used to hear him practice. He'd have his music stand and he had this big, bellowing voice. I probably learned how to belt out a song listening to him. And it just was very traditional. I mean, they would observe Sabbath. All of my friends would observe the Sabbath. I would go over there, I could never really grasp onto what you do or you don't do on a Saturday. But you would do nothing. You would read, you would eat, you would relax, you would talk. You didn't watch TV, you didn't have the radio on. You didn't have a cell phone or any of those computer -- advanced technology. So, it was really a time of 19:00one-on-one and getting to know each other. And, again, I remember that it was hard for me. We didn't necessarily keep Shabbos at my house, but when I would go to people's house like Blume or my friend Helene, we would keep Shabbos, and that was the norm. That was always the norm. And it was traditional. The foods, whether it was borscht or herring or lox, those aren't particularly foods that I like or eat. But again, those were the normal kind of foods. And that's what I grew up around. My father loved borscht. I remember my mother serving my dad borscht. And I remember our Sunday mornings always consisted of fish, going out and getting whitefish, and bagels. We used to have this routine on Saturday night. I remember as a kid, I wanted to be a baker. But every Saturday night, after sundown, we would go to Hinkle's Bakery, which was, I think, on Fifteenth 20:00Street, and watch them take the bagels out of the oven. And I remember Mr. and Mrs. Hinkle, they were from the Old Country, I don't know where. But I was a little girl and they used to let me go behind the counter and watch them make the bagels. And they would dip it in the water and they would put it on the tray. I mean, believe me, Einstein Bagels does not do that. But this was the authentic thing. So, my father would pick up two dozen bagels every Saturday night. I remember eating them in the car. They were still hot, the heat was coming out. Nothing on them. You'd just eat the bagels. We would drive to my aunt Gertie's and my uncle Louie's, 'cause they didn't live far. And we'd drop off bagels with them. Then, we would go by my grandmother's, my mother's, and we'd drop off some bagels for her. And by the time I got home, I'd probably eaten already three of 'em. And that's why I was a roly-poly kid. But it was just, I don't ever know what happened to Hinkle's, because it closed, obviously, everything in DC. But it was terrific. That was our Saturday night routine 21:00(laughter) after Shabbos.

CW:Was there a particular time in your life when you remember learning about the Holocaust? I mean, when you sort of realized what had actually happened to your friends' parents?

SK:It's kind of weird, but no. I mean, this is a thing, they didn't talk about it. And they were different. I mean, they had a different accent, but I loved them. And I remember this one woman in particular, Nesse Godin, who's very active with the Holocaust Museum in DC. These were all like my parents, my extended parents, family, because it really was an extension -- when you go to school with kids for nine, ten years, everybody's life becomes mingled. But they didn't talk about the Holocaust, per se. And again, I was, what, fourteen when I 22:00graduated from the ninth grade. I didn't go on to -- there was a girls' yeshiva high school starting, but I didn't go to that, 'cause there were only ten girls and I thought, At this point, I need something different. But we never talked about it. It was just I knew that they were different, from the Old Country, from Europe. I don't even know that I would notice anything on their arms. I just knew that there was an accent, and it was in a loving endearment that we would make fun of it. But, I mean, I could imitate it, my brother would imitate it. But it just, well, it became part of your life and that was it. And so, nu [well], you know. So, you'd always sprinkle a few Yiddish words in between with Hebrew and English. In fact, that's why I never really knew if they were Yiddish or what they were, because it just became part of the vocabulary. Nu, well, it just -- that's the way we spoke. And it was an endearing -- kind of form of 23:00connection. But I didn't learn about the Holocaust, per se, till later on, to really learn about it.

CW:I want to talk a little bit about your singing. But first, is there anything else you want to tell me about growing up in DC and what that was like?

SK:Well, as I mentioned earlier, it was kind of like a two-part phase. And what happened was in the early '60s, there was, we called -- there were riots in Washington, DC. I don't know if you're familiar with that, but in the early '60s, we called it white flight, because all the white people moved out of DC. It became unsafe. It became dangerous. Again, my father being as protective as he was, wanted his family out of there. I remember one night, my sister, Lauren -- I had two sisters and a brother, and so there were four of us. And I was 24:00number three of four. And my sister Lauren, my older sister, was in the kitchen one night. And all of a sudden, she saw some black man approach the house in the back porch, trying to get in. And she freaked out. And I don't remember what happened. My brother was always a big, burly guy, and maybe he went and scared the guy off. It was the one night in a blue moon that my parents weren't there because, believe me, they never went out. And after that incident, my parents started to look for a home in Maryland. And Maryland's about ten, eleven miles outside of DC. And in my mind, my life changed forever, and so did DC, because it was never the same after that. And everybody in that enclave in Northwest Washington began to move. So, the synagogues, through attrition -- people moved. Ohev Sholom moved out to Potomac. B'nai Israel, where we went, moved to Rockville. It was never the same. All of the friends, they were just -- it was a 25:00diaspora. And they moved to Gaithersburg and Rockville. I mean, remember at the time, I used to take tap-dancing lessons and my father would drive me to tap-dancing. And we would drive on a dirt road to Silver Spring, Maryland. It was still dirt roads. And this is way before your time. I don't even think Rockville existed. Well, it just was, but there wasn't a Gaithersburg yet. So, forever, when everybody moved out of DC, I remember I went to camp, I went to a Jewish camp, where that also instilled the Judaism and Friday night services. It was an extension. My parents saw to it that everything I did was Jewish. And we weren't even allowed to have non-Jewish friends. I wasn't allowed to date non-Jews. I mean, it was that kind of strictness. But once we moved out of DC, everything really changed. And we moved into Silver Spring, Maryland. And even though I went to a primarily Jewish high school, I remember somebody telling me, 26:00"Sara, you better be careful. It's not like the Hebrew Academy. You're going to encounter anti-Semitism." I mean, with the name Sara Silverman, it's kind of a dead giveaway. But as soon as we moved out of DC, six months later, my father died. So, that also contributed to the change of my life. So, there were many factors in my being a clinical social worker, a psychologist. I'm always going to analyze that. But just that whole area, that whole time of growing up in DC and being Jewish was special, and then it changed once I moved. I didn't become any less Jewish, it just became different.

CW:So, when did you start singing?

SK:I've always been singing. I've always been in the elite choirs, in high school and college. I'm trying to remember the teacher I had. Even at the Hebrew Academy, I was in the choir. And like I said, when I learned how to sing in the 27:00synagogue, I always wanted to be a cantor. And when I was at the Hebrew Academy growing up, my father was really a stage mother. He was my force behind me. And once he learned that I could sing, he wanted me to be singing on TV, at the time, and -- like "The Ed Sullivan Show." That was his dream. He wanted to get Sara on TV. And unfortunately, it didn't happen before he died. But what he did do while he was alive, he would take me to USO. They did these variety shows. This woman by the name of Jean somebody-or-other -- my brother played the accordion, and I sang. Not with my brother, but I would sing songs like "Tan Shoes with Pink Shoelaces" and stuff that -- "Baby Face." It was stuff way before your time. And I would sing to the soldiers. I would go to Fort Myers, I would go to Walter Reed. And I sang in these variety shows with the USO, 28:00entertaining soldiers when I was eight years old. And when I tell people that, they're like, Yeah, right. But I have a good friend still, from the Hebrew Academy. His name was Clark, and he attended some of these variety shows with me. So, he can prove that I was actually there singing. So, when you ask me how long, I started really singing when I was probably four years old, eight years old. And I did want to become a singer. But after my father died, truthfully, I didn't have that direction. He was my stage mom. And although I kept singing, I never tried out for shows. I mean, it's ridiculous, looking back, I didn't do that. But when I was, I don't remember, maybe my thirties, I had a girlfriend who asked me to sing at her parents' anniversary. She said, "Could you put together some Yiddish songs? Because they would love it if you could sing some 29:00Yiddish and Hebrew." I said, "Sure." I was like, Wow, okay, sing at their anniversary. I get paid fifty dollars. I was so excited. But I put together a show, and that was the first time I actually began singing Yiddish songs. And, as I said, I knew the accent well from being around everybody. People think that it is my mame-loshn. But from that one gig, I began to get all kinds of requests to sing at Jewish clubs, organizations, senior facilities, blah-blah-blah. So, that's how I got into singing Yiddish. And I did, also, begin to try out for shows. But it wasn't until I was -- it was later on. It was crazy. And I made several shows. I was in a lot of shows, actually, but I never was in Carnegie Hall or Broadway or something, and that's probably the direction I should have gone in. But I didn't have the oomph. I didn't have the strength back then.

CW:Do you remember the Yiddish songs in that first show?

SK:Of course. "Yidishe mame [Jewish mother]," and I'm careful about singing that now because it makes people cry. And I don't want to make people cry. And when I was learning the songs -- okay, the other one I would sing is "Oy mame, bin ikh farlibt -- oh mama, I'm in love," 'cause that's a real upbeat kind of song. And "Unter dayne vayse shtern," "Under the White Stars." Let's see. "Sheyn vi di levone," "You're as Beautiful as the Moon." And the way that I learned Yiddish, to say -- I thought, Well, if I'm going to be singing Yiddish, then I got to know what I'm singing. Because how else can I learn? And how else can I convey the message? And I was taking singing lessons. I think I've been taking singing lessons my whole life. And I actually was listening to Connie Francis. Connie 31:00Francis has a Yiddish album, and it's great. It's got all the Yiddish tunes on there. I'm thinking what's a nice Italian girl like Connie Francis -- I'm learning from her. But that's the truth! That's how I learned. Yeah, I would listen, over and over and over and over again to Connie Francis. And then, (laughs) it was really crazy. And then, the guy who was my accompanist, his name was Bob Tartaglia, also Italian. But he grew up on the Lower East Side, back in the -- I don't know, back in the days. And he's probably in his late seventies now. But he helped me. He would help me, because he knew Jan Peerce, one of the greatest cantors and Yiddish singers. And I used to keep these CDs, these cassettes in my car, and I would listen to Yiddish. Anybody else, they'd hop in my car going, What are you listening to, Sara? And I would be listening to this Yiddish music. I mean, I love it. Still to this day, I do that. But I learned 32:00from Bob Tartaglia, would help me. And, in fact, I made a CD. Jeez, I should have brought it today. I didn't even think about it. It's called "Bagels to Broadway." And on it, I put all of my Yiddish tunes that I learned from Connie Francis and Bob Tartaglia. And then, I was dating a Holocaust survivor, and he took an interest in me. He bought me my first Yiddish dictionary, Yiddish-English dictionary. And I would spend hours with him, and he would go over -- (clears throat) excuse me. He would go over all of these English-Yiddish translations. And he was actually the one that helped me, probably, with all the songs, for sure, that I put on my Yiddish CD. I'll mail it to you so you can listen to it. But for a while, they would sell it at the 92nd Street Y or the JCC in DC. And I just love Yiddish. I just think there's no other language like it.

CW:(laughs) Yeah. I was --

SK:(coughs) Excuse me.

CW:I'm wondering, going back to Cantor Friedman, do you remember any of his nigns [melodies], any of his tunes?

SK:Oh, boy, if I could sing like him, I wouldn't be sitting here, I can tell you that. I don't remember. But, I mean, I think that he lay the groundwork. I mean, for example, if we -- even if it was (singing) "Adon olam, asher molach [Hebrew: Master of the universe, who rules]," that's what we learned. They were the traditional songs. I couldn't tell you, when he would sing with the male choir on the bima, I wish I did know those tunes. I don't. But I would sing along with 34:00everything. I bet you I could get his music from his daughter. But actually, his grandson, Aaron Kotler, who lives in New York, is now a prodigious piano player. So, he carries on the music. But I really -- other than the traditional songs that we sang in shul, I really don't remember, sorry to say.

CW:That's okay. So, of the tunes that you put on your CD, is there one in particular that is your favorite, or closest to your heart?

SK:I can't say one. I love -- what is the one by Avrom Sutzkever? Is "Unter dayne vayse shtern," because I found out my family's from Lithuania. I have a special connection to Sutzkever in that song, because I think about that. It was written outside of the Vilna Ghetto, and now that I've been there, I can visualize it. When I think of "Yidishe mame," I think of my grandmother and with the hardships that she went through to bring all of us to America, and what she 35:00went through to give us a better life and education. And then, when I sing "Sheyn vi di levone," I can't help but think of Connie Francis. But "Oy mame, bin ikh farlibt," I love the tune. It's just so upbeat. And I like to hit the high note. And "Vos geveyn, iz geveyn," "What Was, Was." And that brings to mind the Holocaust survivors and all of the Yiddish speakers, and trying to keep the Yiddish language alive. And so, those songs are near and dear to me now, as I realize what they mean, and that it's still my connection to the past, and how important that is to keep that alive for others. So, those songs have a personal meaning as well as bringing it to the next generation.

CW:I'm curious about your travel to Eastern Europe. When was your first trip and how did that come about?

SK:I could spend hours on this, but I'll try to stick to the significant points. It was either 2006 or 2007. I was in New York City, attending a town hall concert given by the Folksbiene Theatre. And Bruce Adler was there and all the gantse makher [big shots] were singing. And I dragged my boyfriend along and he's, like, "Oy vey [Oh dear]," and I'm really into all of this Yiddish music. And I'm sitting next to some kid, a young boy, and I overheard him speaking that he had just spent the summer at the University of Vilnius Yiddish summer program. And I'm listening to this, and you have to understand, at this point, I had no clue my family was from there. I just knew that I had to go. And I said, 37:00"Can you tell me about it?" I wanted to know more, it sounded so intriguing to go for a month to Lithuania. I didn't even know where it was. And so, the following summer, ironically, I mean, I had moved to south Florida in 2003. I lived in the Washington area my entire life, for fifty-four years, until I moved to south Florida in 2003. And the following summer, I happened to be unemployed, and I didn't have a job yet. I was still in transition as a social worker. And I said, I'm going to Lithuania. I'm going to take this month-long class. Everyone thought I was crazy. What, are you crazy? You're going by yourself to Lithuania? I mean, I booked the flight. I had no idea where I was going. But I love adventures. I love to not know where I'm going and to make it up as I go. And they rented a room for me, an apartment flat. And I absolutely fell in love with 38:00the country of Lithuania. While I was there, the whole time, though, I felt like I was channeling my grandmother. And somebody might think I'm crazy, because I felt like my grandmother was on my shoulder the whole time. I said, This is my grandmother's country. I can feel it. This is where I'm from. And even the trees, it just -- the weirdest thing, that reminded me of Washington, DC, as a matter of fact. The trees, the greenery, the sidewalks, the architecture. I was just enamored by Lithuania, and I walked and walked the cobblestone streets. I couldn't get enough of it. And I was in this little apartment, three floors up. It was hot, there was no air conditioning, but it didn't matter. I'd spent the entire morning, from nine to one, studying Yiddish, and with my notebook, and we had a ball. I mean, we just had a ball. Most of the pee in my classes were young kids like you. They were in their twenties and thirties. They were from all over the country, Berlin, Israel, Poland. So many kids were there learning Yiddish. I 39:00was like, "Why are you learning Yiddish? Do you have Yiddish in your background?" They were like, No, we want to learn the language, and maybe we can get a job knowing Yiddish. And then, the afternoons we would spend doing cultural activities. So, I got to see Vilna. On the weekends, they would take us further. We would go to Kovno. As it turns out, my grandmother was from Kovno Guberniya, which was the territory of Kovno. At the time, Kaunas was the capital of Lithuania. I still don't know the town my grandmother was from. All she said was Kovno Guberniya. Well, there are a lot of cities there. And so, I can't say that I like Lithuanian food. Uch. But I definitely fell in love with the country and the people, the amber, the linen. I had my special shops that I would go to. And I was there for a whole month. I mean, I didn't want to come back. They had 40:00a synagogue there, which I think I went to one time. But there was nobody in it. It was sad. It was kind of a bittersweet thing, 'cause on the one hand, I discovered this country, and on the other hand I also discovered that they're just splinters, ashes of Jews left there. But to learn about the richness of the Jewish heritage in Lithuania is just something that everybody needs to know. So, from that, it became my mission to tell people about it. And I said, If you have a month, you got to go to the Yiddish program. And I liked it so much I went back the second year in a row. And the second time, my boyfriend ended up meeting me there. He wasn't thrilled with the fact that it was the warmest summer they ever had in Lithuania, and had to shvits [sweat] walking up all the three flights of stairs. I mean, it was hot. But I loved it. I just felt free, and I was tracing the footsteps of my ancestors, even though I had no clue where 41:00they really were. But I felt like I was in touch with them. We would go to cemeteries, we would see wooden synagogues, former Jewish sites. We went to the Sugihara museum. He saved the Jews in Kaunas. And I would meet the Jewish community there, what's left of it. Unfortunately, a lot of them don't speak English, and at the time my Yiddish -- and still now, wasn't the best. But you make it up kind of as you go along. You use your hands. I guess that's why Jews use your hands, you use your eyes, you use your head. And that's how you talk. I have a favorite saying. I should probably save this for the end, but I don't want to forget, but Molly Picon, Yiddish theater, just became -- that's why my CD was called "Bagels to Broadway," because Yiddish theater, I just -- I feel like I was born too late. I should have been in Yiddish theater. So, Molly Picon 42:00had this song about dancing, and it was in the show "Mamele." And I remember she sang to people, "Never stop dancing." Even if you just have to dance with your hands. I would tell people this when I was singing: Never stop dancing. Even if you use your eyes, dance with your eyes. And when you're very old, even if you're just dancing with your head, never stop dancing. So, those were my words of wisdom from Molly Picon. Lithuania's a very Catholic country, and I have to say that they have some of the most gorgeous churches I have ever seen in my life. Coming from a Jewish person, when I went to the Hebrew Academy, we were never allowed to go into a church. But when something is forbidden to you, of course, that makes it more enticing. And I'm telling you, I still remember this green Greek Orthodox church. The elaborate -- inner workings. If you ever have a 43:00chance to go, because you could spend the whole time looking in churches and castles. But the architecture, I think it's baroque. I love baroque. But the architecture is so beautiful. Now, the one thing about south Florida is everything looks like -- I don't know why they built it this way. People have Alzheimer's, they can't find their apartment. But in Lithuania, everything is different. And you'll see when you look in my silver later, how some of the houses, and how the shtetls [small Eastern European towns with a Jewish community] look. There's not really a shtetl in Vilna per se, but to go where the great Gaon, there's the former Jewish quarter. And if you look at some of the old photographs of Vilna, you can see the famous archway, that as you enter into the former Jewish quarter where the cobblestones were and the Jews would be congregating, you can still see that. You pass through it. And the library. But 44:00they have a bust of the great Gaon, just as you're walking into the former Jewish quarter. And so, I tried to envision what it was like being there. Right next to it, now, in the '50s, I guess, when the Soviets came in, they built these Soviet-style homes that kind of blot out the effect that this was the Jewish quarter, where at one point, there were over a hundred shtibeleh [small Hasidic houses of prayer], little prayer houses. And, again, when I first stayed there, that's where I stayed. I overlooked that courtyard. And again, I would try to envision that it was back then, and what it must have been like, what it would have been like had the Holocaust not occurred. One of my favorite pastimes when I go to Vilna is to go to the antique shops. I think they're all picked through right now, but if I would have gone early on, I really might have found some artifacts. But now, when you go in, you don't really know what's truly an 45:00authentic artifact, or maybe something they might have purchased just to stock the antique store, knowing that, The Jews are coming for the Yiddish program and, Let's sell them what we can. But there are Torah scroll coverings and there, again, the yads, candlesticks. Somebody told me he found a dreidel. So, every time I go back, I look for a dreidel. But they have kiddush cups. And at first, you could get things very inexpensive, when they were still on the lita, that was the currency. They just joined the Euro as of 2015, so things aren't that cheap. But I try to negotiate with them, and I saw a kiddush cup last year that really looked like a tsadik [righteous person] must have held -- a tall kiddush cup. It was even bent. The silver was bent. And the woman wanted four hundred dollars. And I said, "Well, here's three." (laughs) She wouldn't 46:00negotiate, and she kept talking and pretending she didn't know English. But, I mean, I put the money out at -- it was a bent Torah -- kiddush cup. And it would have meant so much to me, not because it was the silver but because who knew who really held that Kiddush cup? You can wander some of the streets. There are all these little nooks and crannies, the European streets. You don't get lost there. You can walk for hours, and you can still see some Yiddish letters on some of the streets where there may have been a butcher store, a meat store, that sort of thing. So, every once in a while, you'll see -- but basically, what's in Vilna now are these little plaques on the wall that say, Well, this was the -- now it's a government, but this used to be a synagogue or a house of prayer. But they do have a Jewish community center building that still exists. And right 47:00next to it is a small museum. There's also the Choral Synagogue, the Choraliné synagogue, and the Green museum, which tells all about the Holocaust. But it's still a fascinating town for me, and I have to tell you, I've been there seven times. And I feel like I'm still going back for something. I don't know what it is. If I knew where my grandmother was from, then maybe I would go there. I want to see what she talked about. Nesse Godin was from a town called Siauliai in Lithuania. And finally, now, after all of these years, I think they have a government who is trying to make good and come to terms with the Holocaust and make restitution and -- but I visited one of the synagogues there that is just -- it's condemned, the whole thing is just blown through, and you just see birds flying in and out now. It's very sad, but still I go back, and I'll probably go back again this summer. I was there two years ago. They had a Litvak congress. 48:00Of course, Litvak means you're from that part of the country, as opposed to Galitziana. So, I'm a Litvak, not that I ever knew what it was. But they had a congress, and they have it every September, at the end of September. I happened to go when it was over Sukkos, my favorite holiday, in Lithuania. And they have a whole week where you listen to -- you get to go to the parliament and listen to some of the commissioners speak, and they have translators to translate. And they have programs and they have dinners and receptions and singing, and we would travel. We went to the Baltic seacoast of Palanga. But the most amazing thing was somebody built a sukkah on the seashore, in Trakai. There's a palace, there's a castle in Trakai. But there's a Canadian Jewish man who's from 49:00Lithuania, and he runs a business. I think the name is Esperanza. And I'm saying this not to give him an ad, but because he invited sixty people from the Litvak congress to go to this sukkah on the lake in Trakai. And he wined and dined us, but I guess that's why Sukkot is so enjoyable to me, because it's a holiday where you can eat and you can have sweets and you're supposed to enjoy yourself. So, I was in Lithuania during sukes. And then, when we went to the Baltic seacoast of Palanga and Klaipėda, we went to the synagogue there and they also had a sukkah. And there were dozens and dozens of Russian people there. Again, they don't speak English. There are a lot of Russians as well as the survivors. Very few. But again, it was very special to be there during the holiday.

CW:Yeah.

SK:So, seven times to Lithuania. But actually, every time I've gone, I go 50:00further. I've been to the Baltic seacoast, I've been to Riga, because I wanted to see where my grandfather sold his Judaica. I've been to the Rumbula Forest in Riga to see the sites where the Jews were murdered. And I went up to Estonia, to Tallinn, and so I've been to the Lithuanian countryside, and I marvel at it. Each time I go, I learn something new.

CW:Wow. I'm curious about, also, your trip to Pinsk.

SK:Right.

CW:What was that like?

SK:Belarus.

CW:Yeah.

SK:How can I forget? Well, the first time I went, I was in the Yiddish Institute, and we played hooky. We took off a couple days from class, because you know, we were in class from Monday through Friday, and then the weekends, we did other things. So, three of us who had family from Belarus, we got a driver. 51:00You have to have a driver and a translator. And our driver was Alexandra, and our driver was Chaim Bargman. Chaim is a roly-poly kind of a guy. He probably reminds me of Rabbi Burko, because he wore the same t-shirt the whole time we were with him. But he knows Lithuania and Belarus. He calls himself Mr. Lithuania. He's from Kaunas, he's from Kovno. I mean, he's authentic, and he was our guide and our translator when we went to Belarus. And it was a brother-sister, Arnie and Naomi. Naomi actually lives here in South Florida. Her brother, Arnie, lives in Australia. He flew in to attend this Yiddish program. I was in a class with him. And then, who was -- oh, a woman who now lives in Israel, her name was Judy, and her family was from Kobrin. No, I'm sorry. 52:00Arnie's and Naomi's parents were from Kobrin, in Belarus. Judy's parents were from Pruzhany. We had a gentleman by the name of Chaim Balak. His family was from Lida. And my family was from Pinsk. So, we set out on this journey. (laughs) I mean, all I can tell you is that the whole weekend, all I ate were potatoes and drank vodka. That's it, because you don't know what you're eating, but you're safe with potatoes and vodka. So, I always lose weight on this trip. It's pretty amazing. But we kind of circled it, and first we stopped in Lida. We went to the bank so we can get rubles. You exchange your money, and I don't know if you've ever seen rubles, but you have a pocket full of rubles like this, and maybe it's ten dollars. I mean, there's like a stack of rubles, and it's like nothing. Okay, that's five thousand rubles. So, you count it all out, it's fifty 53:00cents. I mean, it makes absolutely no sense. So, again, it was comical. I felt like we were going back in town. As we're driving, in front of us, we see a cart being pulled by a horse with a husband and wife sitting there, and she's wearing her babushka. They're all wearing babushkas. And nobody smiles. So, we go through Lida, then we go to Slonim, and Slonim is -- very interesting town. They still have some military tanks from the Soviet era. And we went to -- now, Chaim knows everything, and we go to see a former synagogue there that was also blown out by the Nazis. But right next to it was the former Jewish market. So, you could see the vendors and the stalls where the Jews used to congregate on a Thursday morning to sell their wares. And that marketplace is still there. And, of course, there are no Jews there at all, but people still use that 54:00marketplace. And so, we passed through Slonim, and the funny thing is, well, Chaim says, "Okay, well, we got to eat lunch." He eats for two people. So, he'd ask somebody, "Well, where's the hotel? Where's the restaurant?" And that's how we traveled. And we ended up having a terrific lunch. Again, for four dollars, you can dine like a king in Belarus. I mean, the food is so plentiful and it's so inexpensive. And you're always responsible to pay for both the guide, and -- so, we paid for all the meals and the lodging and everything for Chaim and Alex. So, the first night, I think we spent the night in Slonim somewhere. I don't know. It wasn't bad, it wasn't bad. Then, the next day, we arrived in -- we drove through -- I'm trying to remember everything. I think we went through Kobrin, which was where Arnie and his -- but again, we went to visit the 55:00synagogue and the cemetery, because there's nothing else. But when we were at the synagogue, we picked up all of these stones and rocks so that Naomi had some kind of remembrance from the town her parents were from. And I actually brought a couple stones back, 'cause I have a very close friend here in Boca whose mother fought in the underground, in the partisans, in Kobrin. So, I brought her the stone, and she was so touched by it. She made a necklace out of it. She makes her own jewelry. And my friend is -- Ricki. And Ricki doesn't like to talk about the Holocaust at all, but she was very touched that I would bring this stone from where her parents were from. We ended up spending -- appropriately, we spent Shabbos in Pinsk, and I have to tell you, they have this river that my aunt had told me about. Of course, now I'm forgetting the name of the river. No, the Neris is in Lithuania. I can't think of the river. But we walked along the 56:00riverside, and just as she described it, there's a town, Pinsk and Karlin are right next to each other. And what happened was there was a rabbi of a synagogue in Pinsk, and he didn't like what was going on in Pinsk, so he opened up his own synagogue in Karlin. And so, there was a big Jewish community in Pinsk and one in Karlin. And so, that synagogue in Karlin is still operating. And it's Orthodox, and it's separate seating. The women sit in a room behind. And we went there for Friday night services. And it's run by yeshiva-bokhers, students from Manchester, England. They did not let Chabad take it over. And we met with a man by the name of Yosef Liberman, who's in charge of the Jewish community in Pinsk. He doesn't speak any English. But I was fantasizing that had I been born there, 57:00that maybe this might have been my husband. But the only reason that the Jews survived in Pinsk and in Belarus is if they went east, further to Siberia. So, that's how Yosef and his family survived. But he had printouts from the archives that I guess they keep in Minsk, of my family name, Silverman, Chaim-Leyb. And I still have those papers that he gave to me to show, to prove that my family was from Pinsk. And it was really kind of neat, because he took me to the area that was the former shtetl, and you can still see that. And I think Chaim Weizmann, our first president of Israel, was from Pinsk. He grew up in a town next door called Motol'. We visited that house. But Yosef took me to the area. He said the Silverman family lived at the corner of Goat and Bath Street. Goat and Bath 58:00Street. That's where my family lived! They called it that because, I mean, maybe that's where the goats were, I don't know. But that's where the bath was, maybe the mikvah [pool for ritual immersion]. So, he pointed out the name Silverman. But you have to understand, there were a lot of Silvermans. So, I really don't know if it was truly my family or if it -- were descendants of mine. Because, again, my family left in the early 1900s, and I don't know when that archive was from. But it's an interesting kind of thing, 'cause even in Lithuania, you go to the archives and they pull out these black ledgers. They wipe off the dust, and the signatures in Yiddish are handwritten. And that's how the Jewish people registered their children back then. And what they would do is sometimes if you talked to survivors and they say, Well, I have two birthdays. I really don't know when I was born. And that's because sometimes, it was such a long trek for the mother or father to go to the town hall to register that they would wait 59:00till they had two or three kids and register 'em all at once. It was difficult. So, we spent Shabbos in Pinsk, and I think the American Joint Distribution provides food, because the Jews there survive on $150 a month. I mean, when they say, Well, how come they didn't move to America? But this is their home, and they live there on $150 a month. And there are charities -- I think the Mitzvah Program -- that do help the survivors. But if they go to synagogue, they get a free hot meal. The food was delicious, I remember that. And it's all washed down with vodka. What's not to like? And you can't hear or really see what's going on with the men. And they're busy drinking. And, I mean, really seriously drinking with the vodka and the beer and partying and singing and dancing in circles. And so finally, the women went out. We would do our own little thing, and I was 60:00jealous 'cause I wanted to see what the men were doing. So, then, finally, we went out there. But the men would dance in circles. A real traditional -- and I do think that there is a Jewish business that supports this synagogue. I can't think of exactly the name of it, but this gentleman also purchased a former yeshiva there, and they're trying to bring it back to life. So, I would imagine that at some point, they may have a Yiddish program in Pinsk as they refurbish, because it's a yeshiva now, where students, they -- I've seen it progress over the years, where students come and live there and study there. So, once again, Pinsk is becoming a destination, so to speak. Not a destination for a wedding, but Yosef Liberman also took me to a building that he's making into a museum. He's also creating a hotel for people to stay in, as well as a mikvah, believe 61:00it or not. But when he took me into this museum, there was no stairway to get in. You had to climb up a ladder, crawl through a window, and go in. I mean, he's in the process, and he would show me some of these artifacts he's putting in this museum. And I walk into the museum and I see a picture of me. He had taken a picture of me, like, the time I had been there before, and put it in. It was the freakiest thing to see my photograph in that museum, because I'm the girl from Pinska. After all, my family legitimately is from Pinsk. And I asked, I said, "Well, because I'm next generation, am I allowed to get a passport with Belarus on it?" Because they do that in Germany. And they said, No, not in -- 'cause Russia -- I mean, Belarus is still very much communist in many ways. And then, our last stop was going to Pruzhany. And I'm bringing all this up because Belarus has such an interesting personality. I would love to live there for a 62:00year, if I wasn't in ownership of a dog. But I don't know any Russian, but the -- it's that everything has such a personality. I mean, even the hotel in Pinsk, I went and complained. I said, "My toilet seat keeps falling off." And they're like, Oh, like this! They had no clue what I'm talking about. You order breakfast there, it takes you forty-five minutes to get an egg, and that's just the way that it is. But it has such personality. So, we go into Pruzhany and Chaim is asking this person, that person, "Where's the post office? Where's the post office?" Because Judy remembered that her mother had said her home was across the street from a post office. And wouldn't you believe it, we found that house and it was the exact house, because she remembered that the backyard opened up into a this, and it was exactly as Judy's mother described it. And we went into the house. Chaim knocked, and he speaks Russian, Yiddish, Lithuanian. 63:00We go into the house and we must have sat there for forty minutes. They offered us tea and cookies and Chaim did the translating. But it was unbelievable that we would find this house. And Judy got to go to the house that her mother grew up in in Pruzhany. And then, we went back to Vilna. And you're lucky if you can get over the border in three hours, 'cause they really scrutinize your passport there in Belarus. But it was just an amazing experience. I do want to go back and I would like to learn Russian. But I'm having a hard enough time learning Yiddish, and so, I'm working on it. (laughter)

CW:Wow. How have those travels affected sort of your own Jewish identity?

SK:One thing I've learned is how disconnected my generation is from all things Yiddishkayt, and it really upsets me. And that's why I say it's kind of become 64:00my mission. It's really opened up my eyes. It's made me more connected. I'm the kind of person that I really have to see things and feel things. I can't just read it from a book. That's why going to genealogy classes never did anything for me. I have to be there. I have to go and see it and feel it for myself. And I think it's just made me much more aware and knowledgeable. I've read tons of books about the Holocaust. In addition to traveling to Eastern Europe, I have also -- of course, I've been to Prague, Czechoslovakia, and Budapest, Hungary, and I went to the Ukraine a couple of years ago. That was just an unbelievable trip. I traveled with the US Holocaust Museum, and then, this past year, I went back to Poland for the fourth time. It makes me understand what they went 65:00through. And I have to say, this last trip to Poland -- they just opened up a new museum there. Even though I have already been to Poland -- the first time I went was in 1999, when I was in DC. I went because they were going to a town called Będzin, which, at the time -- they were the most populous Jewish city, where so many Jews lived in Będzin, and I had to go see where this was. It turns out a young couple, young like you, just a baby in tow, discovered a synagogue in Poland because when they were painting it -- somebody had bought it, and when they were getting rid of the paint, they saw these elaborate -- artwork underneath, and they realized that it was a Jewish synagogue at one point. So, this young couple has now become the spokespeople from this town in Będzin to preserve some of these Jewish places. I never would have known that 66:00had I not gone with the museum to this location. You don't always get behind the doors to see these things. Well, it turns out I know a woman -- well, she's since deceased, but she was from that area. It's like a territory, like Palm Beach. It's called Zagłębie. And that whole area's where the Jews lived. And she lived in an area called Dąbrowa Górnicza, which is right next to Będzin. And next to that town was something called Sławków. And the reason I'm bringing this up is there is a survivor who lives in West Palm Beach who I've adopted as my dad, and he's adopted me as his daughter. His name is Joe Gleibman. And I went to visit his town in Slavkov. It's not on the map. I mean, it's on the map map, but there are no Jews there. And when I asked the Holocaust Museum if they had any kind of information about it, they didn't, because there 67:00were very few survivors. So, I went to Joe's town. It was so meaningful to him for me to go there. I even took a picture of the house that he used to live in. He has a picture from before the war, of him and his parents, and his grandmother all wearing sheytls [traditional women's head covering (wig)]. And I showed him, I said, "Joe, I was at your house." He said, "Are there any Jews there?" I said, "No." I said, "It was filled with little cars, all kinds of cars," 'cause at the time he was there, it was all dirt roads. He said, "Cars? There was never a car in Slavkov." And I saw where the synagogue used to be. And I took all kinds of pictures for him. The cemetery. And I said, "Joe, why don't you go back there? Why don't you see it?" There's a memorial, of course, where they murdered the Jews. And he said, "I just don't think I can do that." I said, "As long as you're walking, you should go back to see that town." And so, when you ask me how I've learned from this and the significance: if I put pleasure -- 68:00I did the same thing going to Hrodna. I think they spell it H-R-O-D-N-A, in Belarus, because I knew a survivor who survived from Hrodna, and I visited his town and brought him pictures from -- he told me, "I lived at Eleven Yerusalamska." I remembered that. I took a picture, when -- and it became an electric store, like a Radio Shack or something. And I took the pictures to him. He said, "Sara, I don't recognize it." The small synagogue, the large synagogue, the ghetto, yeah, he was only eight years old, twelve years old. He never saw the memorial. But those things to me have so much meaning, that I've been to these towns and I can bring it back to survivors, and I can speak for what it was like back then. It's special to me. It's just very special. So, I hope to do more this year. I haven't decided. My boyfriend's getting a little tired of it. He says, "Sara, can we go maybe to the Caribbean?" I said, "But there are no Jewish sites there!" He says, "I know! That's why. Let's go there." (laughs) 69:00Enough with the cemeteries and Dachau and -- anyway, it's important to be connected.

CW:Yeah. I wanted to ask a little bit about your music again. What do you see as your role as a performing artist in passing on, transmitting Yiddish culture?

SK:Whenever I answer something, I have to give you a story. The first time I sang Yiddish in Prague, I went to a junior -- junior. A senior facility that they were building for survivors. And I sang Yiddish and not one person there knew Yiddish. I thought I was going to cry. I mean, I've been learning Yiddish, and I was so looking forward to singing it. At the end of the concert, some man 70:00came up to me and said, "Would you please sing 'Yidishe mame'?" He was the only one there -- he was a little guy. He was half bent over. He must have been a hundred years old. And that's when I realized that I have to sing "Yidishe mame" at every occasion, because music transcends generations. It transcends races, religions. And I was doing such a mitzvah and I didn't know it, that they could cling to something. 'Cause when had somebody been in Prague singing "Yidishe mame"? 'Cause some people say, Don't sing it! It'll make me cry! But this little man wanted some connection, some peace to his Yiddishkayt. So, I try to sing Yiddish whenever I can, if they let me. I didn't sing it when we went to Babi Yar. But it's kind of like in my hip pocket, so to speak. But it's significant 71:00to pass that along. Here in South Florida, I have to tell you, when I was singing Yiddish, again, when I moved here ten years ago, somebody came up and said, "You're singing too much Yiddish. This is too Jewish." So, you see, I've gotten both answers. I mean, to me, I'm not going to stop singing Yiddish. I may only know a handful of songs, but I still, I try to go to Yiddish theater whenever I'm in New York City, or to see a Yiddish play or something, because it is the bridge to the next generation, to the past. Yiddishkayt, Yiddish was the mame-loshn. When we talk about the culture that existed, you can't separate the two. And same thing with University of Vilnius. It belonged to the Jewish people, and I don't think that you can really understand our heritage unless you understand Yiddish. Even if you don't understand, you can't speak it fluently, but understand the significance that Yiddish played in our life.

CW:Do you think there's a revival, a Yiddish revival going on?

SK:Oh, absolutely, absolutely. Yeah, I forgot to mention, when I was in Vilna -- and this is an example -- I was so surprised to see so many young people from different countries -- and asking them, "Why do you want to learn Yiddish?" And they do, and they find it fascinating. And I'm so pissed, because I took Yiddish, and the kids, the young kids, can speak it better than me. They're fluent in it. It just rolls off their tongue. And me, I've been back to Vilna seven times. I see Fania Brantsovsky, the survivor, and we still can't communicate with each other, because I can't speak Yiddish. Everyone said, Well, Sara, you must be fluent! And I said, "No. But now, I know how to spell these cusswords, and I can speak 'em. Now I can spell 'em." But I remember we went into one of the synagogues, and one of the things that the Yiddish Institute 73:00would do is put together a whole band. They said, If you can sing, if you can play an instrument, bring it with you, because we're going to go into these synagogues and we're going to perform for the Jewish survivors. And they would spend the whole time they were there putting together Jewish music that -- there were a couple people in charge. They would bring people in. I remember this one guy named Arkady came in from the Ukraine. Some husband and wife came in from Moldova. They came in from all over, and we put together this performance in the synagogue for these Jewish people, young and old. People who, like I said, from Italy, from Berlin. They were not Jewish people. Young people. And it's not just to learn so that they can get a job, but to learn the language and the heritage. So, yes, there is a proliferation. I hate to say that here in south Florida, there used to be nineteen Holocaust chapters here, throughout -- from Jupiter to 74:00Miami. Of course, the numbers are dying off, but they have Jewish heritage clubs. Some of the gated developments still have Yiddish-speaking classes. I tried to participate in them, but unfortunately, it's over my head. Americans only know one language. But it makes me feel good to see younger kids singing Yiddish, speaking Yiddish. At my synagogue every year, on Yom HaShoah, the kids will sing Yiddish songs. But it's because I have a cantor who has an interest in that. And so, I try to spread the word as much as I can and do as much as I can whenever I have the opportunity. But I'm just thrilled to see young people like yourself going to the Yiddish Book Center. I mean, my God, what they're doing there is just incredible, the number of programs. And I just hope that more and more young people know about the programs. I think that's the next step, is 75:00getting the word out.

CW:Well, I'm wondering if you'd be willing to possibly sing something for us?

SK:Oh, somehow I knew that you were going to -- (laughter) well, how about if I sing a Connie Francis favorite? (laughs)

CW:Sure. (laughter)

SK:I should sing "Yidishe mame," but I'll just do "Sheyn vi di levone, likhtik vi di shtern, fun himl a matone, bistu mir tsugeshikt. Mayn glik hob ikh 76:00gefinen, ven ikh hob dikh gevinen, du shaynt vi toyzant zinen, host mayn harts baglikht. Dayne tseyndelekh, vi vayse perelekh, mit dayne sheyne oygn, dayne kheyndelekh, dayne herelekh, oh, bin ikh tsigetsoygn. Sheyn vi di levone, likhtik vi di shtern, fun himl a matone, bistu mir tsigeshikt. [Beautiful as the moon, bright as the stars, a gift from heaven, you were sent to me. I found my joy, when I won you, you shine like a thousand suns, you warm my heart. Your little teeth, like white pearls, with your pretty eyes, your charm, your hair, they attracted me. Beautiful as the moon, bright as the stars, a gift from heaven, you were sent to me.]" (laughs) You know what that means? Don't ask. (laughter)

CW:A sheynem dank, thank you.

SK:You're a gift from heaven. (laughter)

CW:Well, before we end, are there other stories or things that you want to share on these topics we've been talking about today?

SK:I think I'd like to give a plug for the Yiddish Book Center, simply because I try to learn as much as I can, and I like to really try to continue my education. And it isn't so easy to find, it really, truthfully isn't. I mean, if I lived in New York City, I could attend all kinds of activities. But I look forward to the shabbaton every year at the Yiddish Book Center, because I can learn something there about Isaac Bashevis Singer. And so, I'm always looking to 77:00self-improve. And I just, again, I happen to be drawn towards that. I wish everybody was, and I'm thankful that my boyfriend, Phil, doesn't mind that I drag him along. His ancestors were from Germany, so they didn't speak Yiddish, per se. They spoke German. But any opportunity that I have to learn something new, I'm there. And believe me, if I lived in New York City, I'd be performing. I'd try to perform for the Folksbiene. That's where I'd be. (laughs) Never too late.

CW:They'd be lucky to have you. Well, just want to end by asking if you have an eytse [piece of advice]. Do you have a piece of advice for younger generations?

SK:Well, again, it's difficult to separate the Yiddish from the Holocaust and Eastern European -- but I would hope that the younger kids stay connected. And 78:00never to forget, never to forget the Holocaust, but never forget the Yiddishkayt and the role that that plays in their life. Even if they don't become fluent in Yiddish, but to have a curiosity about it, to want to learn more, to want to be connected to it, rather than going -- and unfortunately, that's what too many of the Old Country immigrants did when they came in. They were like, No, we have to become Americanized now. And they didn't teach the Yiddish. Unfortunately, they didn't pass along -- and that's the best way to learn it. So, I'm hoping that young kids continue to stay connected to their Yiddishkayt, and I think it just makes you just a fuller, more well-rounded person to have that knowledge and understanding.

CW:Well, a sheynem dank -- thank you very much for taking the time to talk --

SK:You're welcome.

CW:-- and sing for us, as well.

SK:My pleasure.

CW:A pleasure.

SK:Thank you. Thank you.

[END OF INTERVIEW]