Jimmy Berg

Tanzer: Jimmy, where did you and your family come from?
BERG: We came to Portland from Great Falls, Montana, but prior to that we came from Edmonton, Alberta, where I was born.

Tanzer: How long did you live in Great Falls?
BERG: Approximately three years, from about 1916 to 1919. 

Tanzer: Why did your family come to Oregon?
BERG: My dad came to Oregon because his father had migrated to Portland and had contacts to supply Fort Lewis with supplies during the war, and we came to Portland in the winter of 1919, and at that time there was my grandfather, my dad’s sister and her husband and family living in Portland already.

Tanzer: Now were they Bergs also?
BERG: My grandfather, of course, was my father’s father. And my aunt was my father’s sister, who married a man by the name of Tonoff. He had a grocery store on Second and Gibbs Street.

Tanzer: Tell me about your grandfather’s business. He was a supplier to the Army?
BERG: He had a contract to supply Fort Lewis with supplies and also to pick up whatever refuse or junk they saved to get rid of.

Tanzer: What was his business actually?
BERG: Well, he was more of a merchant peddler.

Tanzer: And what business did your father go into?
BERG: He came to Portland, and in the back of my father’s mind was the business, even when we were in Great Falls, Montana, where he was an electrical trouble-shooter for the Anaconda Mining in Great Falls. But in the back of his mind he dreamed of the movie industry.

Tanzer: Was this realized?
BERG: Yes, it was realized by the purchase of the theater on First Street, which was called the Grant Street Theater, from a gentleman by the name of Wittenberg, who had built the theater. And this came about in the spring of 1920, and we were in the theater business there up until about the time of the Depression, which was 1932-33. Also during that time he had acquired a theater in North Portland, which at that time was called the Kearney Theatre. Then he went out on Belmont Street, the Sunnyside Theatre. During this time there was another theater built in South Portland on Third and Lincoln Streets, which was the Lincoln Theatre. When that went under later on my father picked that one up. But that was after he had given up the Grant Street Theater.

Tanzer: Why did he have to give up the Grant Street Theater?
BERG: Unfortunately, he lost everything during the Depression – whatever investments he had. The bank closed and the creditors closed on him; he was completely wiped out at that time.

Tanzer: He lost all three theaters?
BERG: At that time, yes.

Tanzer: What do you remember about those days?
BERG: Well, those were quite cheerful days for us. Mother was in the box office selling the tickets. My brother was up in the booth showing the pictures – the projectionist, and Dad, of course, was the overseer. And without any air conditioning in those days, during the summer time, we had to open up the side exit doors to get circulation of air, and it was my job to see that nobody sneaked into the theater through those side doors. And then came the advent of the popcorn machine, which my Dad thought of. 

Well, to preface the story, there used to be a Hindu by the name of Paul Singh. He had a horse-drawn popcorn wagon and he had an agreement with my Dad to pay my Dad a sum each month to allow him to park his horse and popcorn wagon in front of the theater and sell the popcorn and the peanuts to the patrons of the theater before they came into the show. Paul reneged on the oral commitment and this made my Dad a little bit angry at the fact, and that is when he had the idea of buying his own popcorn machine, and that of course became my first legal job – to pop the popcorn and sell the popcorn. And then of course there was the candy, peanuts, and gum, and actually it was the forerunner of the first theater in the United States that was selling the confection of popcorn, which has become quite a business – big business in theaters.

Tanzer: How much was the popcorn?
BERG: Five cents for a large bag, and of course the theater admission at that time was ten cents for adults and five cents for children. The seating capacity was very limited and due to my mother’s very great memory, after the end of one of the showings, she would make a trip down the aisle and she would pick out the children that she knew had been in the show long enough to have seen the complete showing, and she made them get out so that other patrons could come into the theater who had been waiting outside.

Tanzer: So was it a common occurrence to sit in the theater for the showing and re-showing?
BERG: Oh, yes. Many of the parents, of course, got rid of their children that way, hoping that they would be able to stay in the theater, but if it happened to be a busy day, Mother would have to go down and chase the children out who had already seen the picture.

Tanzer: What pictures do you remember having seen that was especially popular?
BERG: Well, of course, in those days your serials were very, very big. [I remember] Pearl White in the Perils of Pauline, Elmer Lincoln as the first Tarzan. And of course your westerns were very big. And the Hunchback of Notre Dame was one of the first big epics that I can recall that we had shown and every showing was to standing room only. The theater only accommodated, I think, 355 seats, and it was on a concrete floor and the people, of course, would come in with their seeds and their popcorn and the peanuts, and it was my brother’s job and my job to sweep it up. And it was a very rough cement floor and it was quite a chore, and of course, many times we would find some loose change among the sweepings, which we were allowed to keep.
 
Tanzer: How old was your brother?
BERG: At this time my brother was – when we first took over the theater I was six and my brother was eleven. In a very short time he was up in the booth as a projectionist and I was already learning it. And by the time I was twelve I was also in the booth relieving him as a projectionist.

Tanzer: What was the method of film distribution at that time?
BERG: That was Dad’s job. There was the film row, which was on Glisan Street at that time. The different makers of movies like Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Warner Bros., they had their own distribution areas, and at that time you went in and contracted for whatever number of pictures that their studio was going to put out. It could have been a dog, it could have been an epic, but you had a contract for whatever they put out. You could not sign up for just one spectacle.

Tanzer: Was there any opportunity to preview these films before you contracted for them?
BERG: On very rare occasions we were invited to a preview, but those were very rare. You bought them sight unseen.

Tanzer: What could you do if you had a dog, as you say?
BERG: Well, you had no choice; you still had to show it. It was what you called “block booking.” You had to take everything that they had to offer.

Tanzer: How long did you keep each film?
BERG: You were charged per diem for the showing and we usually changed movies three times a week. We would show Sunday, Monday and Tuesday; change Wednesday and Thursday, and change for Friday and Saturday. And there were, of course, all types, but mostly in those days your westerns were very big, Hoot Gibson, Ken Maynard, to name a few, Buck Jones, that come to mind at the present time.

Tanzer: Were there matinees as well as evening performances?
BERG: We had a children’s matinee on Saturday and then on Sunday the box office would open at 2 PM. Otherwise it was always in the evening, and when we first took over the theater, the shipyards were still in operation, and at that time we would open the theater at 6 PM to catch the first shift coming off from the shipyards.

Tanzer: Now, was this the Lincoln Theatre or the Grant Theatre?
BERG: The Grant Theatre. The Lincoln Theatre came later in years. I am not quite clear as to the time on that now, but the theater was situated in the middle of the block on First Street, between Grant and Sherman. And the Cottel Drug Store was on the corner of First and Sherman, with the offices of a Dr. Garrison, and coming from there down towards Grant Street, there was the Kaplan grocery store with their living quarters up above. And there was a residence of the old folks, Lipschutz, and then the theater. And then on the corner of First and Grant was a dry goods store, which I believe, to my recollection, was the Robison Dry Goods Store. That family, I understand, is the one that the Robison Jewish Home is named for. 

Tanzer: Where did your family live?
BERG: We first lived in the Carruthers Apartment on First and Carruthers Street.

Tanzer: That was the apartment owned by the Solomons?
BERG: That is correct.

Tanzer: Tell me what you remember about that apartment.
BERG: Having come from Montana (Great Falls) it looked to us as very luxurious. My brother and I shared a room for ourselves for the first time and to us it was a castle in comparison to what we had in Great Falls, Montana.

Tanzer: What did you have in Great Falls?
BERG: We had a small home. Mother had a grocery store in front and we lived in the quarters behind. And Dad, of course, would leave to go to the smelters. Mother ran the store and, of course, at that time I was kept at home because I was too young to go to school.

Tanzer: Do you remember anything of having a Jewish life in Great Falls?
BERG: None at all. I think the only other Jewish family in Great Falls was my Uncle Max.

Tanzer: Max Berg?
BERG: Max Berg. Yes.

Tanzer: And did he also come to Portland?
BERG: No. He migrated to Los Angeles from Great Falls, Montana.

Tanzer: What do you remember about Jewish life in Portland?
BERG: I have a very cute story to tell on that. When we first moved into the Solomon Apartments I made some friends with some boys up on Second Street. We were out there playing ball on Saturday and a little lady came up to me and she said would I light her stove for her? And this was on a Saturday and she would give me a nickel, and I said I would be very happy to, and I went into her home and I lit her stove for her and she gave me a nickel. And when I went home and told my Mother how I made my nickel, she said, “Don’t you know that you are a Jewish boy and you don’t light anybody else’s fire on Saturday?” I said, “No, I didn’t know that we didn’t do that.” And that was the first time that I became conscious of being Jewish.

Tanzer: Was your consciousness further awakened as you continued to live in the area?
BERG: The longer I lived in the area, the more I became conscious of being Jewish and having Jewish people around us, which we never had in Great Falls, Montana.

Tanzer: How observant was your family?
BERG: Not very religious. Mother observed the lighting of the candles after we came to Portland, but not in Great Falls.

Tanzer: Did you attend Hebrew school?
BERG: I was enrolled in Hebrew school and I attended until they finally kicked me out and wouldn’t let me attend any more. And after that we moved and bought a home on Jackson Street between Broadway and Park, across the street from the Shattuck grammar school. I then went to school at Shattuck. And at that time Cantor Rosencrantz was the cantor at the Neveh Zedek congregation. I took my Hebrew learning from him and learned my maftir for my bar mitzvah from him.

Tanzer: Where were you Bar Mitzvahed?
BERG: At the Neveh Zedek Congregation.

Tanzer: We have some nice pictures of Cantor Rosencrantz and his boys’ choir.
BERG: Yes, of his own family.

Tanzer: Where had you attended school before you went to Shattuck?
BERG: I first enrolled in Failing School and I went to Failing until the 5th grade, and that’s when we moved into our new home and I enrolled in Shattuck.

Tanzer: What are your remembrances about Failing School?
BERG: The walk from First and Caruthers to school every day – rain, snow, or whatever – and coming home for lunch and then going back again. And then, of course, I remember Mrs. Kobin’s little candy shop where we were able to spend our pennies and our day’s allowances for the goodies.

Tanzer: Did you walk to school by yourself?
BERG: No, with my sister.

Tanzer: Now, how old was your sister?
BERG: She was a year and nine months older than I.

Tanzer: And what was her job at the theater?
BERG: Our chore was at home. After the folks left for the theater, it was my sister Mona‘s and my chore to clear up the dishes and straighten up the house. And then we were allowed to come to the theater and spend such time, until my Dad would go up into the booth and take over the showing of the picture and my brother would then take us home and we would then go to bed.

Tanzer: Were you interested in the movies at that time?
BERG: Very much so. It was very interesting and the make-believe world opened up the world to our eyes that we had never ever dreamed there was such a thing.

Tanzer: What were your favorite movies?
BERG: Well, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, of course, made a very deep impression on me. The acting of Lon Chaney, the makeup, of course, that he put on. I had never seen anything like it before. And then, of course, Rudolph Valentino in the Four Horsemen and in The Sheik. And of course Theda Bara. Those are the ones, I think, that stand out in my mind at the present time.

Tanzer: Now, the neighborhood was largely an immigrant neighborhood. Did the residents of the neighborhood understand the movies?
BERG: No, that always used to tickle me. There used to be a certain group that would get together, and they would have somebody who was able to read the English titles, and he would turn around and translate them into Yiddish to this particular group. And this would happen in several areas in the theater or the children, perhaps, of the parents would do the translating for the parents.

Tanzer: Then there must have been a rather high noise level in the theater?
BERG: Yes, being in the silent days it wasn’t affecting any of the movies.

Tanzer: Oh, then all of these movies were silent movies?
BERG: Oh, yes, this was way before the advent of sound.

Tanzer: Now when did the sound movies come in?
BERG: The first sound movie that I can remember showing was already after we had taken over the Lincoln Theatre and the Grant Street Theatre was already closed. And it was Wings with Jean Harlow, and I am not quite sure who the male star was, and this was already into 1936, to my recollection now. And at that time it was sound on a large disc which was synchronized with the film. And this stands out in my mind, because as the bombs would drop, it would cause the arm of the phonograph to jump and it would knock it out of synchronization, and it would take us quite some time before we could finally get it back into synchronization. Of course, then when they improved and put the sound on the film, this then eliminated this particular part of the sound.
 
Tanzer: How was the audience reaction to sound movies?
BERG: They liked it right from the very start. And then, of course, when Jolson did The Jazz Singer, that was the success of sound from then on. It replaced silent pictures completely.

Tanzer: What was the reaction to Jolson’s Jazz Singer in the South Portland area?
BERG: It was a huge success, and the fact of the Jewish background, everyone seemed to be able to relate to it. Of course, now going back in talking about this, to the Potash and Perlmutter series, it was also a very large drawing power because of the Jewish aspect of it.

Tanzer: Did people come back to see it again and again?
BERG: Yes, yes. Some would come back every day of the showing. Those were few, but there were some that did that.

Tanzer: Was there any concern about the money spent on the theater because there was a Depression?
BERG: Of course. Going back now to the Grant Street Theatre, money was a little bit more plentiful because of the war and the shipyards being in operation at that time. And of course, thinking back, ten cents for an adult and five cents for a child was very nominal, but of course in those days salaries were in comparison at the same low level. It was quite a bit, but they still managed to have that for their entertainment.

Tanzer: Did this change later?
BERG: Yes.

Tanzer: Did your audience diminish as the Depression reached its peak?
BERG: Yes. Even the five cents and ten cents became quite a chore for a lot of the families to raise.

Tanzer: Did you have any special incentives to draw audiences?
BERG: We used a country store method of giving away bags of groceries to those who were lucky enough to have the ticket that was drawn, and on those nights we were filled, but on the other nights we were barely making expenses sometimes.

Tanzer: Did you ever give away things like dishes?
BERG: Yes. Then after that there were the groceries, sets of dishes – a different type of dish each night until perhaps a set would be completed. We tried all kinds of methods, but eventually, of course, my Dad got wiped out and we were through for the time being.

Tanzer: What were the methods of giving the dishes away? Was a dish given to each person who came in or were numbers called?
BERG: No, there were still a certain number of dishes given away each night. There were more dishes given away, say, than bags of groceries, but the idea of course was to make them come back for those who hadn’t won one night but finally would win one the next night.

Tanzer: When your dad lost the theaters, what your life like at that time?
BERG: Well, at that time it was at the lowest ebb that I can ever remember. We had nothing coming into the house and my Dad still felt that he owed certain debts and he had no means of paying them. And my brother did get a job operating one night a week out of the Portsmouth Theatre and for that he got paid $2. And Mother ran the house on that $2 a week, somehow or another, until finally the owner of the mortgage on the Jackson Street home foreclosed and we lost that also. We moved in next door. And then Dad got a job with Mr. Hasson in one of his Yamhill markets and then he started picking up again. 

And during this time my grandfather had moved to Los Angeles, and was in business in Los Angeles. At that time he suggested to my father that he should come down to Los Angeles and try his luck down here. And my dad did make the move to Los Angeles in 1936 and he situated himself by buying a little theater in San Diego. And in the fall of 1937, my mother broke up whatever was left of our home here and I took her to San Diego where I joined my dad in the theater down there. San Diego was no place for me and I told my dad he could have the theater. I went back up to Los Angeles to look for something. And I couldn’t find anything in Los Angeles. In the meantime, I guess in the back of my mind, I had met a girl in Portland, Anne Rosenfeld, and I guess in the back of my mind it drew me back to Portland. I came back to Portland in 1937 and we became engaged and married in 1938.

Tanzer: Did your dad remain in Los Angeles?
BERG: Yes, Dad remained in Los Angeles.

Tanzer: Or was it in San Diego?
BERG: No, he sold the theater in San Diego and bought one in Los Angeles, which was not a success. And after I came back to Portland, my brother remained in Portland and he and I lived together for a while. And then he thought he would like to go to Los Angeles, and he went to Los Angeles, and my dad and he bought a liquor store in the Old Savoy Hotel on Sixth and Grand Street in Los Angeles. I remained in Portland, married, and stayed until such time when I met with an accident while working for Poole & McGonigle in the ship yards and sustained a severe fracture of the left leg. Then after that I was having problems with my leg and the doctor suggested that maybe Los Angeles might be a warmer climate. And I went to Los Angeles and finally I located and bought myself a liquor store, and then my wife and son joined me.

Tanzer: We have been talking about the theater days when your father was having financial difficulties. Was there any organization in South Portland that he could have gone to for some help?
BERG: On that particular area I have no knowledge. Whatever banking resources he had, they were all wiped out and I am not clear as to any financial aid that he might have received.

Tanzer: In our history, we have gathered together a great deal of material about organizations like the South Parkway Club, the Rose City Lodge – like The Free Loan that offered help to people who were in financial need – and this is why I ask. I thought perhaps he had gone to them.
BERG: I don’t think so because I think I would have known through talk in the family if he would have. But whatever financial aid, as I said, I have no recollection of at all.

Tanzer: Now, I understand that your sister had a very fine operatic voice and that she did perform. Now, tell me about her career.
BERG: Well, her first professional appearance was in the Grant Street Theatre, with the organist. She would get up on the stage and sing a few numbers. Also when the South Parkway Club would put on a minstrel show she would appear then. She was always interested in music. We both took music. I took the violin and she played the piano and we both had a musical background education. But her voice was a natural voice and when prohibition was repealed she got a job singing in Kelley’s Restaurant – actually, it was a beer parlor – and an agent out of Seattle heard her one night there and suggested that she should come up to Seattle and he could get her a booking in a theater. At that time she was going by the name of Minna Berg. He was a numerologist and he worked the name out and said that it was very bad for her. He then worked out a name. 

At this particular time, the game of Monopoly was very, very popular, and from the name Monopoly, he worked out the name of Mona Paulee. And he worked out the spelling so that, numerologically speaking, it would be a success. After the experience of singing in Seattle, she was booked in San Francisco and also in Los Angeles, where she started studying under the tutelage of John Patton. And at that time there was a Sherwin Williams Audition of the Air, and she qualified from Los Angeles to appear on the audition, and she was fortunate enough to win the audition and get a contract with the Metropolitan Opera Company. She was with the Metropolitan Opera for quite a few years and from there she went on to musical comedy, doing the King and I, the Most Happy Fella, and of course the concert tours. She had married during this time and her husband was her accompanist on the concert tours. She is now living in Los Angeles, is on the staff of Cal State Los Angeles teaching and coaching voice and dramatics, and also has private pupils of her own.

Tanzer: Who was her teacher in Portland?
BERG: Golden, George Golden, who was the first husband of Ella.

Tanzer: And who was your violin teacher?
BERG: He also taught me my violin.

Tanzer: What do you remember about your career in music?
BERG: Mine was strictly amateurish. I never attained anything.

Tanzer: Do you still play the violin?
BERG: No. I still have it.

Tanzer: That’s wonderful. Now, so Mona now lives in Los Angeles?
BERG: Yes.

Tanzer: Does she have a family?
BERG: She has one daughter who is married and also living in the Los Angeles area.

Tanzer: And does she concertize?
BERG: No, her singing professionally is over, but she has several students who are going to be heard from in the voice area.

Tanzer: When you say her singing career is over, did she decide to retire because of any particular circumstance?
BERG: No, it was just that she felt that the time had come that her voice was not at its peak anymore and that she should retire it.

Tanzer: That’s a sensible decision.
BERG: Yes, I thought so, too.

Tanzer: In her years with the Metropolitan, did she travel with them? Was she in the chorus?
BERG: No, she sang a part in Carmen. She did Carmen with them, and she also did the first version of Carmen done in English, and with that she did travel around the United States. We had the pleasure of hearing her do this in the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles one year.

Tanzer: Now, tell me about your brother. Where is he?
BERG: He is living in Los Angeles now, also retired.

Tanzer: None of you were in the movie business?
BERG: No, no. My last experience in the movie business was in San Diego, in 1938. My dad was in it a short time after that in Los Angeles, but that was short-lived.

Tanzer: Jimmy, have you ever regretted having left Portland?
BERG: Yes. It was quite a decision to make, for the fact that all my friends were here. But I had to make a living for my wife and son. And I was having problems with my leg at that time, and I [thought] that maybe I would make the move and see perhaps if the warmer climate wouldn’t be better for my leg. And in a short time, I found what I wanted and I also went into the liquor business.

Tanzer: Did Los Angeles offer you the opportunity that you wanted?
BERG: Let us say that I think that there were more opportunities available for a young person like myself at that time to find something.

Tanzer: And your family was there?
BERG: My family was there and they, fortunately, had already been situated and were doing very well again. And so the combination of them being there, and also the fact that my leg did feel better when I was down there, we stayed.

Tanzer: When you come back to Portland to visit, do you visit the neighborhood in which you lived and worked?
BERG: The neighborhood in which the theater was located is gone – was taken over by the Urban Renewal here. There has been quite a drastic change and I have quite a difficult time trying to remember what was on certain sites of what is there now.

Tanzer: How do you feel about the changes in the city of Portland where you grew up?
BERG: The changes have been for the better. It has become much more cosmopolitan than it has ever been since the time I was living here, and the city itself has shown signs of growing, which it never did in those prior years.

Tanzer: Has Los Angeles changed much since you have lived there?
BERG: Yes, yes, it has grown. Also the Urban Renewal is in progress. The high rise buildings are going up, as they have in Portland – perhaps much more so than in Portland, but the population is quite a bit larger than Portland’s. In comparison, Portland has not grown in the same proportion as I have seen Los Angeles grow.

Tanzer: Is your family now in the Los Angeles area?
BERG: Unfortunately, there is just my brother, my sister, and myself left now.

Tanzer: And the rest of the family? Your wife’s family are still here?
BERG: Yes, they are still living in Portland.

Tanzer: Do you ever think about returning to Portland?
BERG: No. I don’t think after being away from the rainy season that I could come back and take the rainy seasons again.

Tanzer: When you come back to Portland, do you see your old friends?
BERG: I spend most of the time with the family, but there are certain of the old friends who I still have a close tie with that I still call and get together with once in awhile.

Tanzer: Are these friends from the Neighborhood House?
BERG: No, they are mostly from after we moved up to Jackson Street. People like Harry Nemer and, of course, Louis Rotenberg. And then, of course, I was a member of the Ramblers and I had some very happy years as a member of the Ramblers.

Tanzer: Tell me about the Ramblers.
BERG: Well, we were quite active at the time I was a member. 

Tanzer: What years were they?
BERG: This would have to be in 1934, 35, 36 – up until the time I left Portland in 1937. 

Tanzer: What were the Ramblers, exactly?
BERG: The Ramblers mainly was a social organization, but we did raise money and, of course, scholarships for those who were needy of aid to go to school and didn’t have it on their own. We would throw Smokers each year. We would have an ad book and raise money that way, and we would also have our social functions, like a dance each year and the installation and the likes of that. But it was mainly a social organization.

Tanzer: Was it part of the Jewish Community Center?
BERG: It actually was not a part of the Jewish Community Center. We did hold our meetings there though, and almost everyone who was a member of the Ramblers, I believe I can say, that they were all members of the Community Center also.

Tanzer: I’ve seen photographs of the Rambler Memorial Bus. Was that after your time?
BERG: Yes, that would have to be after my time. I don’t recall that myself.

Tanzer: Well, it was donated to the Jewish Community Center and it had on the side ‘Rambler Memorial Bus,’ and I had thought that this might be in memory of the Ramblers who passed away.
BERG: I really can’t answer that because I have no knowledge of that.

Tanzer: So, in the service aspect of the Ramblers, they gave scholarships to college students?
BERG: Yes, it was done on an unknown basis. I mean, most of the members at large did not know who were the recipients of this aid. There was a separate committee that would handle this.

Tanzer: Now, were these scholarships for Jewish people or was it non-sectarian?
BERG: No, it was usually to a worthy Jewish young person. 

Tanzer: And were there camp scholarships as well?
BERG: We, of course, helped the B’nai B’rith camp in every way we could. There were donations to maintain the camp.

Tanzer: Do you remember who the officers were when you were there?
BERG: No, my mind on that is very vague. I know that English Rosenberg was very active at that time, and Sammy Rosen, among others. There was Harry Nemer, Eddie Potter, myself, Jack Swerdlick, Irv Popick, and from then on, of course, my memory fails me.

Tanzer: What other organizations did you belong to?
BERG: I was a card-carrying member of the B’nai B’rith Lodge, but I left Portland a short time after that. I was not what you would call a real active member of the B’nai B’rith Lodge.

Tanzer: Were you affiliated with a synagogue?
BERG: Yes. We were members of the Shaarie Torah synagogue, because of the fact that my father-in-law had been a member there, and the family continued going to the Shaarie Torah.

Tanzer: Where did you get married?
BERG: In Portland.

Tanzer: At the synagogue?
BERG: No, we were married in the Neighbors of Woodcraft Hall. I believe it is at 14th and SW Morrison.

Tanzer: Who married you?
BERG: Rabbi Fain.

Tanzer: The Roiter Roov.
BERG: The Roiter Roov, yes. He also performed the circumcision upon our son who was born in Portland.

Tanzer: What do you remember about family life after you were married?
BERG: It was my real true introduction to Jewish life, because up until then, with the traveling of my parents coming from Edmonton, Alberta where there were no Jewish families, so to speak, outside of our own immediate family, to Great Falls, Montana, where there was no Jewish population, and then to Portland. This was my first introduction in Portland, to Jewish life. My dad was not what you would call a religious man. He was a member of the Neveh Zedek congregation due to the pressures that my mother put on him, but it was my father-in-law who introduced me to the real life. Not only my father-in-law, I would say, but the entire Rosenfeld family, when I became a member of them, who introduced me to Jewish life.

Tanzer: What do you remember about the Rosenfeld family together?
BERG: It was a family of togetherness. The thing that stands out in my mind is that after the family finally accepted me, that I was going to be a future son-in-law, I was invited to a Passover Seder, and to be very honest with you I didn’t know quite what to expect. Although we had Seders in our own home, I had never been to what you would call an Orthodox Seder. And then when my future father-in-law wanted me to sit next to him I was quite flattered, and the Passover Seder then was a very joyous occasion. It was a time of hilarity, besides the religious aspect of it, and as the evening grew on, I finally found out why my future father-in-law wanted me to sit next to him. He had a favorite story, and it was a fish story, about the fish that grew so long, until his fist ended up in my face and that’s why I was placed there. Their home seemed to be the focal point, because the Seders lasted longer in their home than any place else, and then other members of the Rosenfeld family would finally come over and spend the rest of the evening and close out the festival activities.

Tanzer: Rivka’s home seemed to be the focal point of a great deal of Jewish life.
BERG: Yes. It was, definitely. It exemplified, to my mind, true Jewish family life.