This memorial is in remembrance of Sam Rabinowitz.
Before coming to America, Sam and his brother Izzy were sent to Siberia to do hard labor for political reasons: They did not agree with the Czar, and had refused to join his army. When they were released from the prison camp, they came to America, the land of freedom and opportunity. Sam travelled overland from Siberia to Singapore, took a ship from Singapore to Seattle, and then another ship from Seattle to San Francisco,his final destination.
Sam and my grandmother met in their evening English classes for immigrants in San Francisco. My grandmother learned to speak and write English very well. Sam, on the other hand, was no linguist.
He was a capmaker by profession who had a wonderful sense of humor and a crooked smile to match. He was also an old-fashioned man whose standards of behavior were a reflection of his Old Country upbringing. My grandmother was more adaptable than Sam would ever be, and his ideas would often clash head-on with my American-born mother and uncle's perspective on things. For example, when my mother was 16, she came home from school one day to find a matchmaker sitting in the kitchen. My grandfather had decided it was time for her to leave school and get married. She dutifully dated a couple of the boys the matchmaker proposed to her, but ended up marrying a boy of her own choosing. Later, she went on to college and graduate school, something Sam did not consider necessary for a woman. When their differences became too much to bear, Sam and my grandmother ended their marriage. True to form, Sam remained a member of his ultra-Orthodox Russian synagogue till the day he died, while my grandmother joined an Americanized Conservative congregation.
Sam's greatest joy were his grandchildren. I'm sorry to have been born too late to know him. From all accounts, he was good-hearted, likable, and a character his own right.
MAY HE REST IN PEACE.
Before coming to America, Sam and his brother Izzy were sent to Siberia to do hard labor for political reasons: They did not agree with the Czar, and had refused to join his army. When they were released from the prison camp, they came to America, the land of freedom and opportunity. Sam travelled overland from Siberia to Singapore, took a ship from Singapore to Seattle, and then another ship from Seattle to San Francisco,his final destination.
Sam and my grandmother met in their evening English classes for immigrants in San Francisco. My grandmother learned to speak and write English very well. Sam, on the other hand, was no linguist.
He was a capmaker by profession who had a wonderful sense of humor and a crooked smile to match. He was also an old-fashioned man whose standards of behavior were a reflection of his Old Country upbringing. My grandmother was more adaptable than Sam would ever be, and his ideas would often clash head-on with my American-born mother and uncle's perspective on things. For example, when my mother was 16, she came home from school one day to find a matchmaker sitting in the kitchen. My grandfather had decided it was time for her to leave school and get married. She dutifully dated a couple of the boys the matchmaker proposed to her, but ended up marrying a boy of her own choosing. Later, she went on to college and graduate school, something Sam did not consider necessary for a woman. When their differences became too much to bear, Sam and my grandmother ended their marriage. True to form, Sam remained a member of his ultra-Orthodox Russian synagogue till the day he died, while my grandmother joined an Americanized Conservative congregation.
Sam's greatest joy were his grandchildren. I'm sorry to have been born too late to know him. From all accounts, he was good-hearted, likable, and a character his own right.
MAY HE REST IN PEACE.
This memorial is in remembrance of Sam Rabinowitz.
Before coming to America, Sam and his brother Izzy were sent to Siberia to do hard labor for political reasons: They did not agree with the Czar, and had refused to join his army. When they were released from the prison camp, they came to America, the land of freedom and opportunity. Sam travelled overland from Siberia to Singapore, took a ship from Singapore to Seattle, and then another ship from Seattle to San Francisco,his final destination.
Sam and my grandmother met in their evening English classes for immigrants in San Francisco. My grandmother learned to speak and write English very well. Sam, on the other hand, was no linguist.
He was a capmaker by profession who had a wonderful sense of humor and a crooked smile to match. He was also an old-fashioned man whose standards of behavior were a reflection of his Old Country upbringing. My grandmother was more adaptable than Sam would ever be, and his ideas would often clash head-on with my American-born mother and uncle's perspective on things. For example, when my mother was 16, she came home from school one day to find a matchmaker sitting in the kitchen. My grandfather had decided it was time for her to leave school and get married. She dutifully dated a couple of the boys the matchmaker proposed to her, but ended up marrying a boy of her own choosing. Later, she went on to college and graduate school, something Sam did not consider necessary for a woman. When their differences became too much to bear, Sam and my grandmother ended their marriage. True to form, Sam remained a member of his ultra-Orthodox Russian synagogue till the day he died, while my grandmother joined an Americanized Conservative congregation.
Sam's greatest joy were his grandchildren. I'm sorry to have been born too late to know him. From all accounts, he was good-hearted, likable, and a character his own right.
MAY HE REST IN PEACE.
Before coming to America, Sam and his brother Izzy were sent to Siberia to do hard labor for political reasons: They did not agree with the Czar, and had refused to join his army. When they were released from the prison camp, they came to America, the land of freedom and opportunity. Sam travelled overland from Siberia to Singapore, took a ship from Singapore to Seattle, and then another ship from Seattle to San Francisco,his final destination.
Sam and my grandmother met in their evening English classes for immigrants in San Francisco. My grandmother learned to speak and write English very well. Sam, on the other hand, was no linguist.
He was a capmaker by profession who had a wonderful sense of humor and a crooked smile to match. He was also an old-fashioned man whose standards of behavior were a reflection of his Old Country upbringing. My grandmother was more adaptable than Sam would ever be, and his ideas would often clash head-on with my American-born mother and uncle's perspective on things. For example, when my mother was 16, she came home from school one day to find a matchmaker sitting in the kitchen. My grandfather had decided it was time for her to leave school and get married. She dutifully dated a couple of the boys the matchmaker proposed to her, but ended up marrying a boy of her own choosing. Later, she went on to college and graduate school, something Sam did not consider necessary for a woman. When their differences became too much to bear, Sam and my grandmother ended their marriage. True to form, Sam remained a member of his ultra-Orthodox Russian synagogue till the day he died, while my grandmother joined an Americanized Conservative congregation.
Sam's greatest joy were his grandchildren. I'm sorry to have been born too late to know him. From all accounts, he was good-hearted, likable, and a character his own right.
MAY HE REST IN PEACE.
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