Elliot Zashin
My maternal grandfather, known affectionately as Grandpa Hymie, always enjoyed recounting how he managed to leave Belarus in Russia as a young man and travel by boat to Ellis Island all by himself. He may have had a few cousins who were already here in the United States, but he was largely on his own when he arrived in 1905. In this foreign land, anything he accomplished (or didn’t) would be his own doing.
Obviously, a naturalization certificate (1920) was an important document for a new citizen to preserve, but I like to think it also represents the hard-won pride my grandfather took in his new life as an American citizen.
I'm not sure how he met his wife, my grandmother Sarah, but within 15 years, despite numerous hardships, he had created a family and was doing all he could to better the lives of his daughter (my mother Frances) and his son (my uncle Nathan). An important document, but when I first uncovered it among some family memorabilia, I noticed that there was a slight tear in the certificate.
By chance, I turned it over; what looked like a disposable piece of paper was glued to the back side, presumably to prevent further damage to this important document. Why didn't my grandfather use scotch tape? Then I noticed that something was faintly printed on the paper patch and pencil scribbled over it as if to obscure what it was. On closer examination, I discovered that it was a petition that reads:
“Segregation violates the principles of democracy and Christianity. It makes second-class citizens of a large minority of the American people. It works an undue hardship on citizens of Virginia, both Negro and White, and is losing us the respect of the peoples of the world. Therefore, the undersigned, respectfully urge the members of the Virginia General Assembly convening January 11, 1950 to: 1. Repeal or amend those actions of the Code of Virginia requiring segregation on common carriers and in public-owned buildings. 2. Pass the necessary statutes making unlawful all segregation, whether on common carriers or in public places anywhere in the Commonwealth of Virginia.”
My grandparents had spent most of WWII in Norfolk, VA, where Hymie worked as a painter at the naval yard. I remember his gruff voice as he described this physical work. He was a loyal union man and he subscribed to a radical Yiddish newsweekly. I guess that it portrayed the Soviet Union as a workers' paradise. I don’t know if Hymie believed that, but I realized that he knew well what workers in America experienced. They were the underdogs here.
After the War, Jim Crow was still very much alive in this country and it was for sure a part of life in Norfolk. Residential segregation was the law, but poor whites like my grandparents didn’t live very far from poor blacks. I’m not sure how the petition came into Hymie's hands—perhaps from a fellow union member—but I am sure that he understood what it proposed. I never got to ask him whether he collected signatures from other workers or what ultimately happened, but I always remembered and valued the fact that Hymie supported social justice for all.