ELIZABETH SCHWARTZ ORAL HISTORY

AGNIESZKA ILWICKA:This is Agnieszka Ilwicka and today is 21st December, 2016. I'm here in home of Elizabeth Schwartz and Yale Strom in San Diego, United States, and we are going to record an interview as part of the Yiddish Book Center's Wexler Oral History Project. Elizabeth Schwartz, do I have your permission to record this interview?

ELIZABETH SCHWARTZ:Of course!

AI:Thank you very much. Could you tell me briefly, what do you know about your family background?

ES:Well, I know quite a bit about my family background. My mother's parents were from -- her mother came from Kovno, so as much as I hate to admit it, there is some Litvaker background there. Her father came from London, but originally from 1:00Mława, Poland. So, I actually discovered just a few -- relatively few years ago that I also have Polish background. And my father's family came from Romania, from Iași, and from a town about thirty kilometers from Iași called Târgu Frumos. So, now I've been afforded the opportunity to visit all these places. So, finally, I've been to all of these ancestral homes.

AI:And what do you feel about them?

ES:I've actually spoken and written about this in the past, but I think when you come from such a young country as the United States, you have a sense of history and you have a sense of where your ancestors came from. Unless you're Native American, you don't have ever the sensation that you step on a particular patch 2:00of ground, and five hundred years ago, your ancestors stood in that exact same spot. So, I think that that is an occupational hazard of being American. My first time I was in Romania was in 1996, in Iași, Romania. And I was standing outside of the Mare Synagogue there. And I had this sensation -- it was really almost like a jolt of electricity where I had that moment of connection, thinking, Wow, five hundred years ago, there was definitely someone from my family that stood exactly in this spot in front of the synagogue. And I can't stress the profundity and importance of a moment like that. And it's very rare 3:00for -- as I said, for Americans. So, I really think, if you have the opportunity, to visit your ancestral villages or cities or little towns that -- you have to take that opportunity, because it really helps to ground you in the broader universe.

AI:Would you say that you grew up in a Yiddish home?

ES:Oh, absolutely not. I grew up -- and I don't want to say I grew up in a deracinated home, but I certainly grew up in an assimilated home. We had a Christmas tree. It was in the '60s and '70s when the ideal was very high WASP, straight hair culture. And we identified culturally with being Jewish, but both 4:00of my parents -- my father had grown up in a red diaper baby colony called Mohegan Lake, outside of Peekskill, New York. So, they were really socialist, anti-religionists. My mother had grown up in an observant home, but really rejected it, completely. So, I grew up with very little connection to my Jewishness. Now, what's interesting about that is when I was ten, we moved up to a town in Upstate New York where my mother was working, a university town. And today, it's kind of like a weekend getaway for the rich and famous. But when I was a kid, it was most notable for being fifteen miles from the largest chapter of the Klan in the Northeast. And without getting too florid about it, I would 5:00say that there is really -- you can be as assimilated as you think you are, but one of the experiences of being Jewish is it doesn't matter, really, how Jewish you consider yourself. Others will tell you how Jewish you are. So, I actually was the only Jewish kid in my school and I was run out of my school. And we didn't really have the wherewithal to kind of connect to -- I think you have to connect to your Judaism when you are in the face of anti-Semitism, because your power comes from that. So, it was not a particular awakening at that time. But I certainly think about it now in terms of my complete immersion into the world of 6:00Jewish art as a Jewish artist. And I have exorcised the pain of that experience because I -- and now to me, it's sort of fuel.

AI:When did you awaken (laughter) as a Jewish artist?

ES:Well, it was really after I met Yale. I had always been a singer. I was -- at the time that we met, though, I wasn't singing except for fun. I was a film executive in Hollywood. And I met Yale and we went to a party and there was a pianist there playing standards. And I think I'd had a few glasses of wine and the hostess said, "Oh, I love this Noël Coward song. If only someone could sing it." And I'm like, "I know that song!" So, I sat down at the piano and I started 7:00singing for a few hours from the American songbook. And on the way home, Yale, who, as you know, is not the silent type, shall we say, was uncharacteristically very quiet. And I thought, What's bothering him? And we got about halfway home, and then he said, "You're learning Yiddish and you're joining the band, and that's" -- and I said, "No, no, no, no, no, no, I -- no way. No way." So, it was kind of like -- the reverse Lucy Ricardo syndrome where he kept trying to put me in the act and I resisted for --

AI:For how long? (UNCLEAR)

ES:A while. Fortunately, he was right and he prevailed, 'cause now it's really sort of the center of my activity and my identity. But at the time --

AI:So, who were your first Yiddish teachers?

ES:My first -- well, I have to give credit to Yale because he first introduced 8:00me to Yiddish. And then, along the path, there were people who really helped me. Adrienne Cooper was great. Jews in Romania like [Itsik Cara Schwartz?], who was just a profound figure in Romanian Jewish culture, he was really helpful. And really, it was people that I would encounter and then just, frankly, without studying Yiddish formally -- just getting my pronunciation from people in my family and from people in Romania, particularly, 'cause I am a -- I have a Romanian dialect. Really, you learn a lot about grammar and vocabulary from the 9:00lyrics, because someone who was a great Yiddishist wrote those.

AI:And who are your literary mentors? Who are your favorite songwriters and people from the past?

ES:Oh my gosh, I don't even know. I don't even know where to begin. I would just say that I love the standards from the Yiddish theater. Avram Goldfadn, Benzion Witler -- in fact, I had a very funny story where I was singing at a Yiddish club in New York and I sang "Vi nemt men a bisele mazl [How can I find a little luck]." And this woman came up to me and she said, "Do you know who wrote that song?" And I said, "Yes, it was Benzion Witler." And she said, "Well, I'm Shifra Lerer. Would it kill you to mention his name when you sing the song?" (laughs) I said, "Absolutely, Ms. Lerer!" And I -- so, every time I sing that song, I always introduce it as having been written by him. And I've also been very 10:00fortunate because Yale is a prolific composer and started several years ago writing songs with Yiddish lyrics. And it's like having a court composer, 'cause I'm the one that gets to sing them. So, I really love being part of the process of preserving our traditions but pushing them forward, 'cause you have to push them forward. And getting to the point where I can actually write lyrics with him now in Yiddish or have input if I don't like a lyric and want to change it. I had a profound moment -- years ago, when we were working on the "Witches of Lublin," this audio drama -- because we had to write a ditty -- Yale had to 11:00write a ditty for one of the characters, a young girl who wants to get married and -- so, he wrote the first verse, which was very positive about getting married and everything. And I actually woke up from a dream where in the dream, I said, "A kale on a nodn, a khasene mit a sodn [A bride without a dowry, a wedding with a secret]." And I said, "Boy, I think this is the second verse," so -- which, of course, turned the song completely on its head. So, I would say that the process has been slow and immersive. But I always look for new material and I find traditional material, or I find new things, or I work on new things myself.

AI:Do you have your favorite song? Or that changes?

ES:It totally changes. And I would say -- it's like saying, "Do you have a favorite food that you cook?" And you would say, "Well, it depends on the meal and it depends on the occasion," so --

AI:But then which -- but every good cooker has the one which is successful and is so proud of. Do you have that one?

ES:I don't. It's a hard thing to answer. I'm not being deliberately coy. I would just say there are songs that the audiences always request. So, you know that they're successful because you're known for them or people always want you to sing 'em, like "Romania, Romania." But --

AI:But what about your heart? If you could say, "I would love to sing this to you," what would it be?

ES:Come back to me with that question a little bit later.

AI:Okay.

ES:I have to think about it.

AI:Okay. (laughter) I'm already excited. (laughs)

ES:Okay. (laughs)

AI:Tell me, please, more about New York, your Yiddish exposure to New York and your Yiddish friends and people who you had met during your trip in the Yiddish -- in America?

ES:Well, I wouldn't necessarily say that it was just New York, because when I met Yale and I first started getting immersed in Yiddish culture, we were living in Los Angeles. And there's a really wonderful, strong Yiddish community in LA, a lot of -- look at, Michael Alpert came from there. So, shortly after I started singing Yiddish, the organization Yiddishkeit got started by Aaron Paley. And 14:00the Paley family were all wonderful, strong Yiddishists. And so, they started having a lot of cultural events that I was lucky to participate in, and I met a lot of people through.

AI:Like who? Whom did you meet?

ES:That's where I met Adrienne, actually, even though she was in New York, that's where I first met her. Who else did I meet out there? I'm trying to think -- besides members of our own band. Oh, Miri Koral. Not a singer, but an extraordinary woman and Yiddishist who's at UCLA. And Eric Gordon, who at that time was the executive director of the Arbeter Ring in LA. And he was always a wonderful, staunch supporter and encouraged me quite a bit. And so, I also feel 15:00a real debt of gratitude to him. And interestingly enough, he came to Yale about the Polonsky project CD that we did. So, Eric's been kind of a constant in my Yiddish life.

AI:Every artist needs a good angel behind.

ES:Yeah, well, we've had a lot. We've had a lot of good angels. And really, for me, it's easy -- it's facile to say -- just because he's my husband, but I have to say really, the person who has opened my eyes more than anyone has been Yale. As a great scholar -- but really, I have to say, as one of the most open-hearted people -- I've never heard him be exclusive or discouraging. He's always so 16:00excited and enthusiastic about Yiddish culture in general and history, and with the scholarship and research behind it. So, just to be in his orbit and see these new things that he does and -- it's no small thing. I'm very lucky to have such exclusive access.

AI:What about you? Do you feel like, by not being Yiddish native speaker from home, you're a little bit aside? Or you got to the point where you feel like, Okay, that's also my room?

ES:Well, I think in today's terms, there aren't a lot of native Yiddish speakers anymore from the home unless they're Hasidim or they're like my daughter, who Yale has very specifically only spoken Yiddish to all of her life so she would 17:00have that. So, let's face it. It's just not that common anymore. I think a lot of people come to Yiddish from the outside and they have to be encouraged, because we're teeny-tiny, teeny-tiny little speck. So, we have to really be as welcoming and encouraging of this to anyone who's interested -- not just in the language. In the culture, in whatever expression of that culture it is, because it's only better for all of us.

AI:You have this -- you express this even in naming your dog.

ES:(laughs) Oh, yes. I speak Yiddish to the dog. That is true. She's multilingual.

AI:And what's the name of your dog?

ES:Our dog's name -- well, her English name is Olive. As my daughter would say, 18:00she named her after her favorite fruit. But her Yiddish name is Shmendrik mishling [mutt]. So, she answers to all of the above.

AI:So, every Yiddishist is welcome here.

ES:Absolutely. Absolutely. Two-legged or four-legged.

[BREAK IN RECORDING]

AI:You travel a lot.

ES:Yeah.

AI:So, you see a lot. And you are onstage enough long -- to see the changes. And what is your perspective of the performing artist on the Yiddish stage? What's positive, what is coming, and what's negative is here?

ES:Well, this is kind of a loaded question. On the one hand, I feel like the avant-garde vogue of what we do is past. Klezmer and Yiddishkeit are no longer 19:00the hot new thing that they were. But they're still going strong. It's just it's no longer countercultural in some places. Here, also Poland, Hungary, it's no longer hip to do this. Now it's just normal. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. I think that we dealt with the question of who gets to do this and who should do it. And I know there were a lot of people who felt that this should be the exclusive province of Jewish performers. I think it's a sensitive subject. I don't necessarily agree. I think it should be the exclusive province of great 20:00performers, because it's only better, again, for the genre to keep the genre vibrant and legitimate. So, in terms of changes, I guess the biggest change has been its normalization and how common it's become. That's a good thing. I just hope that people remain dedicated and enthusiastic, 'cause it's not pop music. Obviously, no one's gonna become a billionaire from being a klezmer musician. It really is a labor of love. For some of us, I think it's a love of the genre. And for others, I think -- I know in my case, comparing it to what I used to do for a living, it -- there is something of a mission about it, because I see how 21:00precarious its existence is and how it requires more active husbandry than pop music does, or jazz. There will always be people doing those things. I think that to celebrate it, to preserve it as a tradition, and to keep it evolving and moving forward is essential. Otherwise, we become a culture that's preserved in amber. And it's very beautiful and it becomes very sacred but it doesn't breathe. So, that's essential.

AI:What is your perspective as a female performer in the Yiddish world, maybe even versus other genre -- is this more welcoming or less? And how do you feel 22:00in this?

ES:Well, now we get to the controversial part of the interview. Obviously, as performer of Jewish music, I've dealt with the whole kol isha [religious prohibition on men hearing a woman sing, lit. "women's voice"] issue. And where it's sincere, I respect it. Sometimes, it's like part of the à la carte menu and people will say, Well, I'm going to be observant about this issue but not so much about this issue. And it is something that just impacts women like a lot of aspects of culture and a lot of conservative religions do. So, in the broader sense, it's no worse than a lot of things we women have to deal with. I have had experiences with kol isha. For example, doing a concert at the Brooklyn Public 23:00Library and there were Hasidim there. So, I made a point of walking to the microphone very deliberately and saying, "All right, now I'm about to sing this song and here's what it's about," to give them time to leave the room. And they didn't leave the room. In fact, they were moshing during the concert. I had an experience with some very hip people in a more conservative circumstance where they had a little mini-emergency baked in and then determined, well, if I was singing into the microphone, then that was legitimately distorting my voice enough to circumvent the worries about kol isha. So, it's all -- okay, whatever. In Jerusalem, I had an experience where a lot of Haredi men and women came to a 24:00concert and I really didn't know how that was going to work. And I started -- I figured, well, they brought me here to sing, I started singing. And a couple of the Haredi musicians actually came on stage and took out instruments and played along with me. So, I thought, Okay, well, great, this is -- I hope someone's taking a picture of me standing next to this guy in the silk kapote [long coat traditionally worn by observant Jewish men] with the peyes [sidelock] -- singing alongside him, because we're not going to see this too much. And, of course, coming back from that trip, I had the experience on the airline where the stewardess came to me and said, "Oh, this rabbi's sitting next to you and he wants you to change seats with your husband." So, it is never a settled matter. It is always going to be something that you have to deal with in the moment. Last spring, touring throughout France in a lot of these communities where even 25:00in a liberal synagogue, they still observe things like kol isha. So, we did the concerts in the community centers next to the synagogues. So, it's something -- I certainly respect it because I respect people who have genuine faith. But sometimes, it's -- let's just say a little less sincere than at other times.

AI:And you said that -- do you have any great story to share with us about your cooperation with other female in the Yiddish venue world?

ES:Oh, sure. And actually, it comes from a kol isha issue. Years and years ago, the Eldridge Street Synagogue booked Yale Strom and Hot Pastrami to perform. And 26:00then, the director of programming called back and she was mortified and she said, "I just found out, I'm so sorry, that you can't sing." And I said, "No, no, no, I understand, it's fine." And then, she had a -- and then, I saw that later in the season, there was another concert and it was -- I don't know if it was during the days of counting the Omer or exactly what it was, but it was something that was -- maybe could be interpreted as not entirely kosher to have music on this day. And so, I called her and I ribbed her and I said, "I understand the prohibition about my singing. So, I'll just come and I'll play hand percussion naked." And she said, "Let me get back to you." And that's -- and she called me and she said, "You know what? I'm going to organize a women-only event, 'cause I want you to sing in the synagogue, but this way we circumvent the whole kol isha issue." And this was while the synagogue was still 27:00being restored in the early days of its restoration, 'cause now it's really a magnificent edifice. Anybody who has not been there has to go see it, because I think it's the oldest Orthodox synagogue in continuous use in the United States. So, she said, "Would you consider going up to the vayber [women's] section in the gallery and singing?" And I looked at it and I said, "Well, do you have insurance?" And she said, "Yes." I said, "Okay, I'll go up there." And so, I did stand there in this really decrepit gallery section and I sang. And I'm glad I did it, because years later, she booked Hot Pastrami for another event. And she said, "Elizabeth, I hope you're coming." And in this point, we were living in San Diego, and I said, "Well, I love my bandmates, but I'm not going to fly to New York to sit in the audience and -- unless you're willing to break the ban of 28:00kol isha, I'm not going to come." So, again, she said, "Let me get back to you." And she called me back a few hours later and she said, "I just spoke with the head and we figured there was no better time to kind of definitively deal with kol isha, so we're officially inviting you to be the first woman to come and sing for the full audience at the Eldridge Street Synagogue." And I said, "Well, I certainly accept. Thank you very much." And she said, "We're not going to make a big announcement of it. You'll just come and do it." And I said, "Sure." So, I will never forget -- 'cause this is what was so interesting about that. Not just the koved [honor] and this great thing that I get to say, I'll always have this experience, but I started singing and I looked out into the audience -- and it was packed, men and women -- and I see an elderly woman in the third row and she 29:00goes like this to me. [wags finger] And I thought, Why is it the woman that had the problem? But there were no pitchforks and torches and it -- everything went swimmingly. And now I have to say, when I see women who are booked there to sing, I feel very proud that I kind of nudged -- and you joked about it. And I can't take full credit for it, obviously. They wanted to get past that last ban that was, I mean, hanging by a frayed thread of formality that just was not appropriate any longer. So, I'm tremendously proud of that. But I'm also 30:00thrilled every time I look now and I see -- Oh, there's one of my favorite singers. Susan Watts. She's singing there. Yes! So, makes me very happy.

AI:Yeah, and speaking of this positive and negative women approach, the mother of many great songs is Adrienne Cooper, and I would like to bring her to this interview for a moment. And second -- and bring your memory of her and your interaction with her.

ES:Okay, here's the first thing that I want to say about Adrienne -- is that there have been a lot -- I don't want to get upset. There have been a lot of truly extraordinary scholar-artists in our world. There has never been anyone like Adrienne, and I don't think there ever will be anyone like Adrienne. She was -- don't -- you look like you're going to start crying, too. Don't get me 31:00started here. So, she was -- in what she did, she was extraordinary. But it was the way she did it. The first time I met her, she came up to me and I think it was one of my first concerts. She came up to me and she said, "You know what? You are fabulous." And it was the kind of encouragement that you need when you're starting out. So, there was nothing -- she was neither possessive nor kind of jealously guarding the marketplace. And then, over the years, little things would happen. I'd get a call from a Yiddish club saying, "We booked Adrienne and she had a conflict and she suggested that we get you to sub for her." Or my friend Alicia Svigals, who I've played with several times -- this 32:00was back in the days of the great band, Mikveh, which everyone should listen to if they haven't. She said, "Oh, Adrienne said if we ever have a gig and she can't do it, that you should be her sub." So, it's little things directly or indirectly. There was such a generosity and a support and encouragement that I think is as much Adrienne's legacy as her actual scholarship or her art. And that -- and a good lesson. A good lesson, because we all have to treat people that way. There was such a -- she set this lavish table and she was so excited for anybody who wanted to come and sit at it. And we don't always encounter that 33:00in our world. It's a small marketplace. And I think that we just have to take that lesson from Adrienne and that should be our model for how we welcome other people. And I think if you want to honor her legacy, as we all do, we have to remember that about her.

AI:Thank you for sharing this with us --

ES:It was a pleasure.

AI:-- about -- nice memory, Adrienne Cooper. Your love to Yiddish wasn't so obvious from the very beginning because you have met -- first Yale and then --

ES:Yeah.

AI:-- and then, Yiddish. I would like to ask you more about your journey with Yiddish. From your own very personal perspective, from you, today going out, performing artist -- but back then, not even knowing necessarily, right?

ES:Right. Or even what klezmer music was, other than what everyone assumes -- Oh, it's "Hava Nagila." So, when I was a kid, with a Christmas tree, my mother, whenever she would get behind a slow driver, she would impatiently say, "Oh, what a putz. What a putzy driver." And I swear I did not know until I was driving my grandmother years later and got behind a slow driver and said, "Oh, what a putz," and my grandmother was aghast -- so, I -- that was when I learned that it didn't mean slowpoke. One other occasion where I can really remember Yiddish as a kid was I was walking up Park Avenue with my mom. And this woman was walking towards us and she had a floor-length mink coat and, what we say, 35:00important jewelry and her hair was perfectly coiffed and a real mies punim [ugly face]. And as we walked towards her, my mother kind of side-mouthed me and she's, like, "Gornisht helfn [Nothing helps]." So, I -- that was about the extent of my Yiddish. So, when I started to learn Yiddish and started to sing in Yiddish, my mother, all of a sudden, started throwing out these Yiddishisms that I really think she had been -- had kept corked. I can't remember what we were talking about, but all of a sudden, she was like -- she said, "Oh, aroysgevarfn di gelt [throwing away money]." And I'm, like, "Where did that come from? Where did this Yiddish come from that I've never heard from you?" And the same thing with my dad. So, I don't know how much Yiddish was in his background. But 36:00really, when I started to get into it, he started talking more and more about his Romanian roots and the family lore. And so, really, in my specific experience -- and I don't know if this is common, but I can't imagine that I'm the only one that's had this experience -- for parents that really rejected it and really wanted to assimilate into white America, my doing it, I think, at first was bewildering to them. But then, it started to open them up a little bit more. So, it was something that -- it didn't occur to me at the time, but I think it ended up being something that I gave them that was a surprise and, you know, I found very encouraging because I -- it's sort of what do you give someone who has everything? Well, you give them a part of themselves that they 37:00had walled off. So, I started hearing -- and it also told me really interesting stories about -- particularly with my father. For example, I had known that the family came from Iași, Romania. But what he told me which was so fascinating is at one point -- the family was very well-to-do. They were millers. So, there was always income if you created food. And he told me at one point the family had moved to Târgu Frumos and then had moved back to Iași. But he never told me the circumstances. The circumstances when the family moved to Târgu Frumos was -- I guess they were very wealthy and they wanted to start a mill there and -- but the circumstances of their moving back -- the family was quite well-to-do 38:00and I think they had a gentile nanny. And this is just so fascinating to me and gothic and horrible, but apparently, she took one of the young children for a walk by the lake. You're nodding, right. In the lake. So, the metaphor of her taking the child for a walk by the lake was she drowned the kid in the lake. And I think, no matter how insulated they might have felt as being wealthy merchants in this town, I don't think there was any recourse. So, the family left and moved back to Iași, and then from there, they came to the States. So, unfortunately -- I'd love to say -- I think that someone in Paris thought that I was related to [Cara Schwartz?]. I say, "No, no, no. Spiritually, but Schwartz is just the most common name. We're -- none of us are related to each other." 39:00So, unfortunately, I don't think I have any family left in that part of the world. But isn't that a grisly, kind of deliciously gothic, horrible story?

AI:For sure. (laughter)

ES:But, in other words, I never heard this story until I started plumbing these untapped resources with my parents.

AI:So, that's the privilege -- what Yiddish is giving to us.

ES:Yeah. Well, I mean, there's a whole Yiddish world. And, of course, if you don't know it's there, you'll never see it. But it's very -- it's profoundly rich. Or, for example, when I travel to Romania and I have a conversation with someone and we're using the same dialect, which -- I mean, let's face it, the 40:00Yiddish standard is that very high, literary Litvak-er Yiddish standard. And I certainly had an opportunity when I started becoming a Yiddishist to emulate that. But it didn't feel like it was mine. Also, my father had a beautiful singing voice. So, really, I -- and I'm the only person in the family besides him who has a singing voice. So, I really consider that a Romanian legacy. So, it felt more fitting to embrace that aspect of Yiddish.

AI:We are nearing to the end of our interview, but would you like to share with us your beautiful voice?

ES:Okay. Do you want -- let me sing something in English, and I'll tell you why. I started a project a few years ago of taking what, for me, were very 41:00traditional klezmer instrumentals and writing new lyrics for them because I wanted them to kind of have a new generation, and also try to popularize them a little bit. So, this is -- thinking about [Itsik Schwartz?] -- his wife, [Cili?], was really the source of Yiddish -- of melody. She sang for a lot of us that were privileged to know them before they passed away. And her uncle was from Bosnia. So, she taught us this waltz that she sang, the "valts fun bosnye [waltz from Bosnia]." (sings melody) And a lot of us have recorded it as an instrumental piece. So, the first -- when I had the idea to do this, the first 42:00melody that I thought to write English lyrics to was this melody. And it's about Itsik and Cili, both of whom went through the Holocaust. Cili was in prison in Transnistria. [Cara?] had lost his previous family. He'd had a previous wife. And I thought what was special about their story was not what they had endured but that somehow, after the Holocaust, they came together and found these atrophied muscles that make you want to live again and make you feel hopeful about finding love again. And I thought that was really what was so extraordinary about their story and their relationship. So, dry, this is a song 43:00that I took from the "Bosnian Waltz" called "The Plum Tree," the plum tree also being, for me, a symbol of Romanian Jewish life. (singing) "Sit with me beneath this old plum tree. Tell me your name, what you've seen. I can see that you are much like me. My memories are still green. Before the iron thorns, I held between these hands a little face. Before the iron thorns, the plums were sweet, their branches intertwining lace. Before the iron thorns, I never thought I'd ever live to see small blossoms easily erased. Are there new trees, are there 44:00new dreams that might be green? Let me tell you how it was with me. Leaves can be shed much more easily than tears. Shall we walk and leave our old plum tree? Walk through the unnumbered years. Before the iron thorns, you'd see another girl, a bit like me. Before the iron thorns, I never wondered what it meant to not be free. Before the iron thorns, the branches of our bent and old plum tree were ripe with possibility. We'll find new trees. We'll find new dreams. And 45:00they'll be green."

AI:A sheynem dank [Thank you very much], Elizabeth.

ES:Nishto far vos [You're welcome].

AI:A sheynem dank. Un efsher mir veln endikn dem intervyu mit dayn bagris far di yidishe velt [And perhaps we will end the interview with a message from you for the Jewish world]. Vos vilstu [What would you] --

ES:Avade [Sure].

AI:Nu [So]?

ES:Ikh bin azoy gliklekh tsu zayn du [I am so happy to be here] avec [French, "with"] du [you] -- avec -- oh, that's my French. Mit aykh [With you]. Antshuldik mir [Excuse me]. Un ikh hofn [sic] az alemen veln lernen mer fun undzer kultur un undzer velt [I hope that everyone will learn more about our culture and our world].

AI:A groysn dank [Thank you very much] and thank you very much on behalf of the Wexler Oral History Project.

[END OF INTERVIEW]