Norm Savinar

Weinstein: I’d like to start, Norm by having you tell me something about your family. How did they come to Portland? When did they come to Portland? Why did they come to Portland? If you could take us back to that time.
SAVINAR: Well there are two sides to the Savinar family. My mother’s name was Abrams. My father was a Savinar. The families came from different places at different times. I will tell you briefly what I know about them, which is frankly not very much because my father never talked very much and my grandfather never talked very much about their origins. Some of this is also hearsay; I couldn’t vouch for it as the truth but it is the story that comes down through the ages. My father came to the United States in about 1914. He was not permitted to come to the United States for various reasons so he came through Canada. His first occupation was in Canada. He later must have sneaked across the border because he came to Portland and went into business here. He became a US citizen.

Weinstein: Where had he come from?
SAVINAR: The name that sticks in my memory (as I said, he never talked about it) is a town called Allichihi [?] and it was in Russia. The reason I know something about that is because a family wives’ tale is that his brother was killed by the Cossacks. His father, incidentally, was an “unfrocked” rabbi who never actually was employed as a rabbi. My father brought his father and his mother and his brother (there were several brothers who came; one of them settled in New York). My dad came down and went into business in Portland. He met and married my mother. Now my mother was an Abrams. Her family came from Odessa. If a Jew could be a Russian, they would be White Russians. My grandfather’s family managed a large wheat farm for a high-standing Russian family.

Weinstein: Because they could not own land themselves.
SAVINAR: Yes. The mechanism for them coming to the United States I don’t know. Their family consisted of my mother, three sisters and one brother. [to his wife] Is that right? Lorna, Fanny, Ethel, and Bessie. Bessie was my mother. And just one brother. 

Weinstein: Were the children born here?
SAVINAR: No, they were all born in Russia. My grandfather became very Americanized. He sort of assumed to himself a reputation for controlling some of the Jewish votes in the city of Portland. As such, he was conversant with the political persons in government up to the state level. He was very handsome, very wise, was no good at making a living, but when the Shriners had a convention in San Francisco he went there with the pastor of the Methodist Church in Portland. I have a picture of him there. You can see that in those days he was very liberal.

Weinstein: This was your mother’s father.
SAVINAR: My mother’s father. They called him Alter, which means “old one” because his sisters in the old country taught him to smoke. Because you had this little kid going around smoking, they called him “Alter – the old one”

Weinstein: Do you remember him?
SAVINAR: I remember him very well because I was his favorite grandson. I can talk about him for hours.

Weinstein: I am curious to know what you remember about him.
SAVINAR: Well, I remember him as being well-groomed, occasionally drunk on brandy. What I do remember, an interesting story; he was on such talking terms with the movers and the shakers that I can tell a story about that. When I was about four or five years old he called up my mother and said, “I have to go to Salem and I want to take Norman with me.” My mother bundled me up and we went to Salem. Who was he going to see? He was going to see the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Oregon whose name was John McBride. We got to Salem and went to the judge’s chambers. We told the secretary that Mr. Abrams was here. She said, “The judge is on the bench. I will tell him you are here.” He came walking into the room (he was a very nice looking man) and he said, “Oh, Abrams, it is so good to see you!” My grandfather introduced me. “This is my grandson Norman Savinar.” And the judge said, “Abrams, what can I do for you?” As he said that he reached down into a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bottle of bourbon and set it on the table. He poured them each a drink. My grandfather said, “There is an attorney in Portland who has been disbarred. I am here to plead his case. The only way that he can practice law again is if you permit him to practice law.” So the judge said, “I think I know who it is.” And my grandfather told him. The Chief Justice looked at my grandfather and said, “Abrams, that man is nothing but a God-damned crook, but I will take care of it” And he took care of it. And that guy’s family is still respected in Portland. That was a little vignette of my grandfather.

Weinstein: So to what do you attribute his influence? Was it his personality?
SAVINAR: Yes it was [his wife adds something I can’t hear].

Weinstein: And what impact did this experience have on you. Do you remember it or did you have it told to you?
SAVINAR: I remember it. There was one part of the story I left out. Chief Justice McBride, at the conclusion of the session, reached into his desk and took out his baby spoon. I still have it.

Weinstein: Is that right? You must have been special for him to give you that. Your grandfather had contacts and influence. Was that across religious lines?
SAVINAR: My maternal grandfather was a skeptical believer. It was impossible for him not to be a believer when his wife would sit next to him at the 6th Street Shul and point to the book while he was looking around schmitling people [laughter].

Weinstein: That’s a wonderful story. Now tell me about your father’s family.
SAVINAR: My father’s family was as different from them as day and night. When my father brought his family over, he set his parents up (they were Orthodox) in South Portland. I don’t believe he ever had a job. He couldn’t speak English. He prepared the Schnitzers for their Bar Mitzvahs. He was a quasi-Hebrew teacher. And when he didn’t have anything else to do he went down and sat at the shul and studied. He was a student. He transferred this on to his sons. My father was a consummate student.

Weinstein: What was your father’s first name?
SAVINAR: Jacob. It is significant as a byline that when my father and my uncle decided to go into the chicken business, the president of the company who could neither speak nor understand English was Moses Savinar who was my grandfather. I have the original papers of incorporation. I have a picture of their first building down on Front Street in Portland. It was more than a chicken business; they were called a commission merchant.

Weinstein: Tell me more about the business.
SAVINAR: We called it the chicken business because it was one of the products which we handled. They were among the first so-called “commission merchants” in Portland. My father and my uncle. The name of their company was the Savinar Company. The commission merchant’s job in those days [involved] most of the animals that the farmers grew, like chickens and turkeys and beef and hogs, [that] were “farm slaughtered.” The farmer would slaughter the animal and bring it to the commission merchant who would in turn sell the product to the butcher shops and the restaurants. They would extract a commission for the job. One of the inherent requirements for the job was honesty because you had the farmer on the farm getting a check. He had to accept what the commission merchant said. So if he had any doubt about their honesty, there was not going to be any business. So that was the business they were in.

Weinstein: It was like a middleman, a broker, who relied on the integrity of the farmer producing good merchandise and the butcher would just prepare the meat for sale but didn’t do the actual slaughtering.
SAVINAR: Right. There were some big slaughterhouses around here. But they had their segment. The segment that went from farm to my father’s business was a segment all on its own. And there were a lot of other families in Portland (who were not Jewish) who were in the commission business. 

Weinstein: Could you remember some of the names for the record?
SAVINAR: One of the names was… 
Elaine S: There was an Italian family wasn’t there?
SAVINAR: Yeah there was a guy by the name of Joe Fizetti. Thank you. And the other one was Grandma … what’s her name? You know – Tad’s mother-in-law.
Elaine S: Oh the Clark family?
SAVINAR: Yes, the Clark family. Bodine and Clark was the name of it. Abe Welch was another one. And Schechter was there. Front Street between Stark and several blocks north of Stark was all commission merchants.

Weinstein: Did they go to the farms?
SAVINAR: Sometimes they did. My dad used to go. He always told everyone that he would go on Saturday to a farm of a Seventh Day Adventist and the Seventh Day Adventist didn’t work on Saturday so he would find little notes that said, “The cow that I want to slaughter has got a red ribbon on its tail [laughter].”

Weinstein: So he could check it out, see if it was a good cow.
SAVINAR: So my father would go and check the cow with the red ribbon on its tale. Despite the fact that there was great competition for the farmers’ product and therefore the people in the commission business were always at each other’s throats (theoretically, not practically), the one time when everybody came together was when a chicken got loose. Because if you didn’t help me catch my chicken, [laughter] then I’m not going to help you when your chicken gets loose. And the way that they caught chickens in those days when they were loose and running around on Front Street, was that [laughter]. You want me to go any farther with this?

Weinstein: I love this story.
SAVINAR: The weapon of practicality was a long stick, like a pool cue. At the end of it was a hooked piece of wire. And you never tried to grab the chicken. What you tried to do was go like that and get its legs. The chicken would “SQUAWK” but then you had the chicken, that was the technique. And everybody worked together; there was no animosity at that time. They were all glad to see the chicken caught. One of the commission merchants was a guy by the name of Joe Fazetti. Joe was right across the street from our business – I worked for my father intermittently in those days – and Fazetti had a bad habit. When the farmers would bring in the turkeys, he would watch who would come into our place, make a deal and leave. As they left, he would come out of his office and say, “what did Savinar pay you for those turkeys?” The guy would tell him and he would say, “If you would have come to me, I would have done you much better.” That had the effect of leaving nobody happy. The guy that brought the chickens in, me, .. the only guy that was really happy was Fazetti. So I warned him. I said, “Now Joe, you are a nice guy. I saw just exactly what you just did and I am going to tell you now. The next time you do it, I am going to beat you up.” Now my wife had come down to pick me up at work and she was sitting across the street in our new Pontiac and she said – my late wife, I’m sorry, no comparison – 

Weinstein: And please tell us what her name was for the record.
SAVINAR: Adele. 

Weinstein: So she was sitting in the Pontiac.
SAVINAR: And she screamed, “Norman, don’t hit him! Please don’t hit him!” And what happened was…. I hit him [laughter]. He was looking around for something and saw a 2×4 on the ground and picked it up and he hit me. The next thing that happens is that the police show up. Police show up because he has sworn out a warrant for my arrest. They take me down and book me. And then I started gathering other members in the business (who also were not happy with Joe Fazetti) and the court date was set. I asked all of my friends on the street to come to court. Then I found out the worst thing that anybody could find out that was Jewish. The judge was Julius Cohen. And Julius Cohen, if you were a Jew, and went in front of him, say “goodbye” to freedom [laughter]. So we went to trial. And Fazetti had his own lawyer there to assist the prosecuting attorney. I didn’t have anybody. A number of lawyers came just to see what would happen and they were giving me advice [laughing] for free. Fazetti told his story and I rose up in all my wrath and I said, “Your Honor, this man is lying.” The judge stood up [laughter] with all of his majesty and said, “Savinar, I’ll decide who’s lying here.” And I thought to myself, “Holy Christ, now I’m really in trouble.” But having said that, he turned to the prosecuting attorney and said, “Jack, how did this case ever get into my court? Case Dismissed [much laughter]!”

Weinstein: It sounds like a Marx Brothers movie. Oh that is a wonderful story. You mentioned that you were working intermittently for your father. What were you doing other than working for him? What was your business career?
SAVINAR: The only time I worked with my father was shortly before and after I was married. After I got out of college. When I was in high school and waiting to go to college, I did help a little. I drove the truck a bit. As an example: the Chinese owned meat markets and would come down to our place and put a stamp on the side of a hog. Or people from Yamhill Street (which was the retail street for markets). I would haul those sides of hog or veal or lambs or chickens and drop them off at the meat market that had bought them down at my father’s place. I got married the year I got out of college and came back to Portland for the following reasons: My father, in his wisdom, did not want me (I had married a woman from L.A.) to go live in L.A. He wanted me to live in Portland because by any standard I was his favorite child. (Not that there is anything against my brother and my sister because, when they get out of the Reformatory, you will see what kind of fine people they are [laughter]).

Weinstein: Very broad-minded of you. Tell me their names.
SAVINAR: My sister’s name is Shirley Bergman and she is smart as hell. And my brother’s name is Richard, Dick Savinar. He lives in Portland

Weinstein: Back to the business and then I want to get some information about your education as well. 
SAVINAR: So what Dad did was to tell me, “Son, there is a business that is for sale. I’m going to buy it and we’ll see what happens.” I said, “Dad, no deal. You will buy it and then I’ll be tied up. I don’t want any part of it.” And he said, “There is nobody running it right now.” I was on leave; I was still in uniform and I said, “Dad, don’t count on me. I’m going back to L.A. That is where my wife is from.” And he said, “I’ll tell you, will you just do one thing for me? There hasn’t been anybody running that company for some time.” The company was owned by a senator (who was the most conservative senator in the history of Oregon? You know the one I mean).

Weinstein: I do…
SAVINAR: Well, in any event, it belonged to that senator and his family.

Elaine S: What was the business?
SAVINAR: The business was the Portland Ice and Cold Storage Company. It was a refrigerated warehouse and an ice manufacturing plant. I said, “I don’t want any part of it at all.” He said, “Will you please just go down and check the mail? There is nobody there but a lady office manager. Everyone is stealing from the place.” It was possible to steal ice. The ice was being stolen by a member of the Portland City Council [laughter]. I’m not even going to get into that!

So I went down there and I opened up the mail. I could see, having been a relatively aggressive and knowledgeable young man, what was going on down there. I felt, “Well, I can stick around for a couple of days and straighten this damn thing out and then I’ll go to L.A.” Well, in those days, the way you sent a car load of frozen strawberries from Portland, Oregon to New York was you loaded a railroad car with the strawberries. At each end of the railroad car was a bunker and into that bunker you dropped cakes of ice. You poured an equal amount of salt onto the ice so the ice would melt. When ice melts, it picks up heat (that goes back to your high school physics). So heat would be generated that would keep the strawberries frozen all the way to New York. It had to be replenished all the way along the line because the ice would melt. I had contracts with several of the railroads to ice the railroad cars that had perishables in them on their way through Portland. And I had contracts with other firms. With one called Terminal Ice and Cold Storage Company, which is an old outstanding firm, we had a joint contract with Southern Pacific, Union Pacific and we would ice all their cars and we had a method of sharing the expenses. Anyway, that was the nature of one part of the business. The other part was that I had this big warehouse, most of which ran at zero. You know Oregon can’t utilize all of the crops that grow here in the spring and the summer. So what do they do? They freeze them. For instance, Safeway wants to make strawberry jam all year long. They don’t want to shut down their jam factory just because there are no more strawberries. So what they do is buy ten cars of frozen strawberries and keep them. Then they ask you to ship them a car every ten days or two weeks.

Weinstein: You stored the frozen strawberries for them?
SAVINAR: Yes. We did many things there. Eventually, at my suggestion, we got into the business, with the Schnitzers, of running our own operation. We were probably the biggest growers of strawberries and processors of strawberries in the state of Oregon at one time. All they ever did was say, “Norman, don’t bother us with it. You run the damn business.” That was one of my businesses.

Weinstein: I want to take a different tack now and find out what your relationship was, as a Jew in a business community that may or may not have been hostile to Jews. You were in a particular business where it doesn’t sound to me like there were many Jewish people operating. 
SAVINAR: Nor did the nature of my business, at any time, require that I had Jewish customers. So when a prominent member of the Jewish community in Portland didn’t like a stand that I had taken on a Jewish issue, and came up to talk to me in the waiting part of the Temple. He said to me, “I cannot believe that you have the guts to set foot in this Temple after the way you…” And the rabbi was there and Adele was standing there (of blessed memory), and he turned on HER and the rabbi said, “Norman has the right to do…” He wasn’t so hot that I was on the other side but he defended my right to have an opinion.

Weinstein: Do you feel that there was any impact from your being Jewish on your business experience?
SAVINAR: I never felt at any time that anybody who came into contact with the Savinars (I took my brother into the business when he came out of college) did not feel enriched by our presence. We became firm and fast friends with our customers, socially and in business as well. We were often trusted. We kept scrupulously clean (I would cheat a little bit if I could but my brother [laughing]). . .

Elaine S: What about your relationship with Oregon Freeze Dry?
SAVINAR: Oh yeah, maybe she doesn’t want to hear that one.

Weinstein: Is that the Mikelsons?
SAVINAR: Yes, I talked to Bob just the day before yesterday. About three or four of us started Oregon Freeze Dry and it’s killing them now. Any time there is a war, Freeze Dry goes gangbusters.

Weinstein: Tell me why that is.
SAVINAR: Well because you can use freeze dried steaks and throw them on the shelf and eat them six months later and all you have to do is add water.

Weinstein: But you said it was killing them; I thought you meant it was bad.
SAVINAR: Oh no. It’s really good. Then also a friend of mine named Bernie Krenson came back from the east and said, “Norm, I saw something that is the coming method of preservation of food. It hasn’t hit Oregon yet but it will. We’ve got to start a company to freeze dry stuff.” I said, “Okay Bernie, let’s do it.” (Incidentally, he was not Jewish.) We sold the stock ourselves, a dollar a share. You ask Gilbert where he made all of his money! He will say…

Weinstein: So did you have the chemists or scientists that developed the process?
SAVINAR: No, the process was developed by Armor and Company in Chicago. The way we got our president for the company: he was running a frozen orange juice operation in Florida and we heard about him. His name was Ellis Beyer, as a matter of fact, his daughter is on CBS in San Diego. She called me the other day too [laughter].

Weinstein: Later on I would like to meet with you again and talk more about business because the museum, within the next year or two, is trying to put together an exhibit of Jews in business in Oregon.
SAVINAR: Freeze Dry right now is owned by a Jew.

Weinstein: Not Mikelson.
SAVINAR: No, it’s owned by a guy by the name of Ashkenazi. I’ve never seen him, never talked to him. I was not treated nicely when Freeze Dry sold. When we decided to sell Freeze Dry, I was the only guy from Portland. Everybody else was from Albany. We decided it was opportunist to sell. We sold to 7UP and 7UP is a big, big company. The president of 7UP said to me, “If you vote for the sale, as a member of Freeze Dry, I will see that you get a position on the board of 7UP.” So we did and when they had a big banquet in Albany. We all sat at the table. I sat at the head of the table with this 7UP guy. By that time the new board members had been published and who was not among them [laughing]?

Weinstein: You were double-crossed?
SAVINAR: And they asked me to give a speech. I said, “I am flattered and honored to be here with the president of 7UP. We are very happy [can’t hear through laughter]. I wish I knew then what I know now that 7UP does not keep their word. [much laughter].”

Weinstein: Good for you! I want to get more about all of those experiences. But I want to talk about your education a little bit. Where did you go to school?
SAVINAR: Sure, I’m very proud of where I went to school. I went to Irvington Grammar School, which was down on 14th and Knott. There were several Jewish families in Irvington because Irvington in those days had a different generic structure. It was upper middle class. There was not a black in the school. My best friend, when I was five or six years old, was Bobby Gilbert. You know him?

Weinstein: Grace’s husband. I know him.
SAVINAR: He was my very best friend. When we were in the first grade or kindergarten, his mother Anne called up my mother and said, “I must tell you, why wasn’t Norman at school today? because Bobby came home crying because Norman was not at school.” This is a continuous story now. We were cemented like friends. We both went to Grant High School together. He was a famous all-American football player at Grant. As such, he got an athletic scholarship to the University of California. And he went off. I had no money. It was the Depression. It was 1934 when I graduated. Bobby’s father gave me a job. He was general manager of the retail section of Montgomery Ward. He had a wonderful job. He had a bad habit of giving jobs to any of Bobby’s friends who were broke and had nowhere to go. Half of the people I knew were making $13.50 a week at Montgomery Ward’s. 

So he gave me a job and I started saving my money so that I could go to Cal where my buddy was. One thing had happened that I have to tell you because it’s a killer: I worked in the hardware department of Montgomery Ward. I worked there for over a year and I was still making $13.50 a week. I decided that this foolishness had gone far enough. I’m going to ask Mr. Gilbert, my best friend’s father, who, when I was in his home greeted me with a hug or a cuff on the side of the head. It was that kind of close relationship. So I thought to myself, I am going to go up there and Mr. Gilbert is going to do good things for me. I am going to get a raise. So I picked up the telephone and called his secretary and I said, “This is Norman Savinar. I’d like to make an appointment to talk to Mr. Gilbert.” She says, “Wait a minute, Norm, I’ll see if he can see you. … He says come on up right now.” So I went up to his big office with a big desk. He looks at me and he says, “Savinar, what can I do for you?” I gave him the party line, you know, “I’ve been working here all of my life [laughing] and I’m still making $13.50. Mr. Gilbert, I think it’s time that I got a raise.” He looked me in the eye and said, “Mr. Savinar, you’re fired [laughing].” And I said, “Mr. Gilbert, let us not be hasty. What I would like to have now, is my job back.” He said, “Get out of here son!”

Weinstein: So eventually..?
SAVINAR: So eventually I had enough money. And on his end, Bobby was working to get me into Cal. He went to the director of athletics and said, “There is a guy in Portland who is a wonderful athlete. I think you should give him a job here so he can come to Cal.” The guy asks, “What is his specialty?” And Bobby says, “Soccer.” [laughter] So the guy says, “Is he really that good?” They believe Bobby, Bobby is an All-American. Bobby says, “Boy is he good.” I was terrible. The guy gave me a job for a dollar an hour, working in the athletic department at Berkeley. So that is the way I got my tuition which at that point was $101 dollars a semester. The minute I got in, I switched my residence to a cousin’s in L.A. and my college fee then was $26 a semester. Of course, the first thing that happened then was that I met Adele.

Weinstein: And you continued at Cal?
SAVINAR: Yes, I graduated Cal, sure.

Weinstein: I am going back to this theme of trying to find out what your relationship as a Jew was to the rest of the community.
SAVINAR: I belonged to a Jewish fraternity. There is no doubt about it because at Cal, the only fraternity that a Jew could belong to was a Jewish fraternity.

Weinstein: Which fraternity was it?
SAVINAR: It was called Kappa Nu and it is now ZDD.

Weinstein: To this day you have Kappa Nus what?
SAVINAR: Up to this year, despite the fact that most of the Kappa Nus are from San Francisco (I hope I will be pardoned for saying this but) I am the guy who held that group together. I am the one that saw to it that we had an annual reunion every year. I am the guy that went down for all the big games. As a matter of fact, I have a story for you: Let’s go back to soccer. I played soccer for the University of California against Stanford on November the 23rd, 1935 in Palo Alto. We lost [laughter]. I was the only guy on the team that spoke English. They were all Spanish or French. No, there were two Englishmen by the name of [?] who went on to great things in the music industry.

Weinstein: Did you date women that were not Jewish?
SAVINAR: At Cal?

Weinstein: Whenever, in high school and at Cal.
SAVINAR: Yes, I did. I did not date women at Cal, Jewish or not Jewish (well I had a few dates because we lived right next door to the ADPi’s and they would watch us undress – they would turn out the lights – well I won’t go into that, once in a while we dated them). But getting back to it: the dating I did was almost exclusively with my wife.

Weinstein: Once you met Adele, that was pretty much it.
SAVINAR: She was my date at the Freshman dance and I never dated anybody except her after that. It was a relationship that started the day I got to Cal and some guy came over to the house and said, “There’s a bunch of good-looking girls that have moved into a certain dormitory and they are all from LA” (LA girls were hot stuff!) I didn’t get over there fast enough but one of my fraternity brothers got there. When I did get there and I saw what was going on, I told that brother, “This one is for me.”

Weinstein: In your family life, what was your ritual observance of holidays,…?
SAVINAR: Well, my mother blessed the candles on Friday night. My father was a student in depth of Jewish history. He knew the Torah and Bible backward and forward.

Weinstein: Did he talk about that at home?
SAVINAR: No.

Weinstein: It was just for his own?
SAVINAR: For his own edification. He saw that we all went to Sunday School at Beth Israel. I think I am the only guy alive that was at the dedication of the new Temple.

Weinstein: Where it is now? [NW 19th and Flanders]
SAVINAR: Yes. When they burned the old one down, I went to all the intermittent places and I went all the way through grammar school and high school, confirmation there.

Weinstein: Do you have happy memories of those experiences?
SAVINAR: Yeah, I hated to go to Sunday School like everybody else did but “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

Weinstein: Who were some of your friends from there?
SAVINAR: Jewish friends? Lou [Lubliner?] Elsie Willer, and there was a girl by the name of Barbara Levy who I had a brief fling with. There was a Blitz, there was a Crank. It was the “Teutonic Cream of the Crop” and I didn’t belong there. Occasionally, if a person is relegated to a certain status in society, providing they accept the status, …. In other words, if I say, “You are a bum.” And you know in your heart you are not really a bum. The only thing that will make you a bum is if you say, “I guess I really am a bum.” That was a little bit of the problem with the Jewish community in Portland. There was a schism between the Eastern European Jews and Western European Jews. For a long time, the Eastern European Jews accepted (right into their subconsciousness) the lesser position, socially, than the Western European Jew. 

Weinstein: Give me more examples of that.
SAVINAR: First of all, you had at that time, a Teutonic rabbinate. Once that Teutonic rabbinate was shunted aside a little bit by the Eastern European rabbinate, there was a change in the whole feeling of the congregation in its acceptance of what it was and in the virtues and vices attributed to it. Is that what you meant?

Weinstein: It is wonderful. It is very interesting. Tell me who were the rabbis?
SAVINAR: Of course the great (as far as I’m concerned) standard bearer for Reform Judaism, which was right on the line with Orthodoxy, was Rabbi Berkowitz. Incidentally, there were niches in Rabbi Berkowitz’s outlook. One of the niches was that despite the fact that he was a social royalist as far as Judaism was concerned, he nevertheless went fishing with my uncle who had about as much class as an ant [laughter]. But he was a good fisherman so Rabbi Berkowitz went fishing with him all the time. And it gave my uncle ineffable pride to say, “I went fishing with the rabbi.” I always felt that the rabbi was at no pains to make me know where I belonged. That I was from the other side of the tracks.

Weinstein: How did that change? When did that change?
SAVINAR: It changed when he died.

Weinstein: And then who came?
SAVINAR: It was Nodel. And my best story of Nodel I wouldn’t tell on tape.

Weinstein: Was he more traditional or more …?
SAVINAR: No, no, he was a brilliant man. But he was Eastern European himself.

Weinstein: So he was more progressive of the changes?
SAVINAR: Oh yes, sure.

Weinstein: I love these stories about this sort of social change. Because you experienced it and you are very good at interpreting and expressing it. I would love to hear more.
SAVINAR: Well, I’m smart [laughing].
Elaine S: You look at the list of rabbis and how that changed and you also look at the list of presidents of the congregation and how all of that changed.

Weinstein: So that reflected that social change
Elaine S: Yes, very much so. You know it was the Durkheimers and the [Frys?] and all of that, and then it became the Savinars…
SAVINAR: Yes, I was the first san culottes president.

Weinstein: I don’t know what that word means.
SAVINAR: It means desconocidos [laughing]. “San culottes” means “without pants.”

Weinstein: That’s what I thought – wearing a skirt!
SAVINAR: Well it means that I was from the other side of the tracks.

Weinstein: Well, I’ve never heard that before.
SAVINAR: Ah, you must come here for lunch sometime – when she has got a hair appointment [laughter].
Elaine S: Yes please do.

Weinstein: You referred earlier to some experiences in the military. Do you want to talk about that?
SAVINAR: I’d be very happy to talk about that. When did I ever refer to that?

Weinstein: When we first started the tape this morning you said something about military experiences.
SAVINAR: You want to talk about my experiences in the service?

Weinstein: Yes.
SAVINAR: Well OK. You’ll have to shut me up because there are a lot of them.

Weinstein: Well I am trying to establish a thread, because you have had wonderful experiences in everything you have done and interesting times. But I am trying to establish a thread of you as a Jew and your relationship to the general community, and the military. Obviously you were very comfortable in any social setting. I’d like you to elaborate on that.
SAVINAR: I would interpose that I was always aware of the fact that I was carrying a thousand years of subjugation on my back and that it was not over yet.

Weinstein: Did this make you try to compensate in some way?
SAVINAR: I don’t think so. I was just aware of who I was and where I was and what my ancestors had done. I’ve never gotten over that. As most of us are [aware of that]. When the chips are down, you send the money to Israel. As far as the military goes, if you go to a land-grant college (a college where the United States Government has given so many acres to the college to have a military department).

Weinstein: Like ROTC?
SAVINAR: Exactly ROTC. There is a requirement that a student (in those days it was a male student) serve two years in the military, freshman and sophomore, and make applications, should he so desire, for what they called “upper division.” This led to becoming an officer. I took two years of undergraduate military, of ROTC. When that was over, I got down on my knees and thanked the good lord that I was through with ROTC. Except that there was one problem. My professor of military science and tactics, the guy that was my teacher in military, a guy by the name of Sandy Goodman [chuckles], was from West Point. He had played football for the academy. He had a father who was a tailor in New York. And was the assistant coach of the University of California football team. Captain Goodman and I, for reasons not necessarily to do with religion, became friends. As friendly as a student can get with a teacher. When I came back from my summer vacation between my sophomore and junior year, I saw a note in my box at the fraternity house. It said, “Report to the military building at such-and-such a time on such-and-such a day, to take your exam for upper division.” So I took the note and went to building such-and-such and I said, “Captain Goodman, I have come here. I did not apply for upper division. I don’t want any upper division.” He said, “Savinar, I don’t want you carrying a rifle in the rear rank. There is going to be a war and I want you to be an officer.” I said, “Captain Goodman, all of the guys in my undergraduate division are engineering students. And the branch of the service that you are in and are assigning me to is engineering. I can not add 2 and 2 and come up with 4. Can you imagine what is going to happen when I get my first exam in engineering? It is going to be a washout. I won’t last five minutes!” He says to me, “Savinar, who do you think is going to be correcting your papers?” [laughter] So before Pearl Harbor, who was the first guy called into the service as a second lieutenant?  I did go from second lieutenant to lieutenant colonel. I was decorated. I have a number of medals for valor – which prove that I wasn’t a complete coward. There is a lot more to the story than that. I went over the beach at Normandy.

Weinstein: I didn’t know.
SAVINAR: I didn’t go over on D-day. I think it was a day after.

Weinstein: That’s another whole interview there. I’m not letting you off the hook.
SAVINAR: Sure, are you impressed [laughter and talk about France]?

Weinstein: When you came back from the war, you came back to Portland. You were married.
SAVINAR: I was married and I had a child. At one point I was assigned to the Hilton Hotel in Pasadena (that was a wonderful duty station). At that point I decided it was as good a place as any to have a child. So we had a lovely little child in Pasadena. I will say this. The reason that I went overseas was because I was stationed in Pasadena. This is not characteristic, but I had my choice of spending the war in Pasadena in luxury and a guy that I knew called me on the phone from Atlanta, Georgia and said, “Norm, our outfit is going overseas and we need somebody of your rank, in your position. I can get Washington to assign you to our outfit. You will get a raise in rank but you would be going overseas.” I said, “Pat, I don’t have to think twice. I want to go overseas.” He said that my commanding officer would have to release me. I went to my commanding officer and told him that he was about to receive a request for my presence from a [?] and I said I hoped he would go along with it. He didn’t want to let me go but I said, “Sir, would you prevent a man from defending his country and going where the action is?” He said, “I can’t do it.”

Weinstein: That was my next question. If you can be objective enough to tell me if it was a sense of adventure or a sense of patriotism or a combination of both?
SAVINAR: It was primarily – this is going to surprise you – so that I could get to be a Major. Although once I got there, I didn’t want to be killed so I was killing everybody I could shoot. And we had plenty to shoot at. You know you have given me a chance to open my mouth, but there is so much more.

Weinstein: I really do want to come back and get some of that
SAVINAR: Just the two of us, of course. [laughing].

Weinstein: So what more can we talk about as far as your life here in Portland? Did you retain friendships from early childhood throughout your life?
SAVINAR: Oh yes. Mostly my friendships from early childhood are gone now. I am 88.

Weinstein: I would never guess it.
SAVINAR: Believe me. That automobile accident I had was hard. I’m only about 50% recovered. I could tell you a wonderful set of stories, but I’m only 50% recovered so I don’t remember them all [laughing].

Weinstein: During your middle years, or however you want to characterize it, you were friends with a lot of people that you had been friends with all of your life?
SAVINAR: Oh, I had a wide circle of acquaintances, not necessarily restricted to the Jewish community. Because, I am one of the oldest living members of the Multnomah Club. Who then, don’t I know at the Multnomah Club?

Weinstein: What about community activities? Were you involved?
SAVINAR: Yes I was. I was at one time the manager of the Community Chest for a section of Portland. I was president of the Council of Christians and Jews.

Weinstein: Were you ever involved in scouting?
SAVINAR: Sure I was a scout. Our headquarters was at Westminster Presbyterian Church [NE 16th and Hancock] on the east side.
Elaine S: You were president of your class at Grant.
SAVINAR: Oh yes that. I delivered the valedictory speech for my class at Grant.

Weinstein: So you went to Irvington School and then to Grant and then you went to Berkeley,
SAVINAR: To Cal, that’s right.

Weinstein: I knew Adele through the Temple Sisterhood. You were active in the general community and you were president of the Temple, weren’t you?
SAVINAR: Yes I was. I think I am the oldest living ex-president.

Weinstein: Did you go to services a lot?
SAVINAR: When I was president? You’re damn right I went to all of them.

Weinstein: No, I mean before and after you were president.
SAVINAR: Not any more often than I could get away with. When I was vice-president I had to go and give the kids their bar mitzvah present. In order to have the “essence” of religion get to you, you have to have the mystic experience. The mystic experience can be enhanced by music, by your surroundings, but you will know when you have got it. Sort of a peace settles on you. When I was president, on occasion, I would get that mystic experience. I am basically an agnostic. I guess that’s it.

Weinstein: That’s another whole tape there. I am very curious about that. Have you ever written anything or expressed these ideas?
SAVINAR: Only sometimes I have written them down and then covered them with a pile of papers and thrown them away. They are not earth shaking.

Weinstein: When you say “agnostic,” are you saying it in the sense that you are a non-believer or that you are non-observant?
SAVINAR: I am a non-believer. Basically, I am not happy with God. I am not happy with the fact that he took my first wife away from me. I hold him personally responsible for that. And I am not happy that he had me have this accident which spoiled her life [indicating Elaine Savinar]. Not for myself. But this has become a different life and I blame God for that.

Weinstein: I just wanted to get your feelings about that. Tell me about – and then we will end the interview because we have got so much stuff.
SAVINAR: This is going to be the best interview you took; you know that.

Weinstein: It is awfully good. Tell me about your children.
SAVINAR: Oh, I have two sets of children. I have the children that I inherited from marriage to Elaine.

[side conversation]

SAVINAR: My two children, both boys, one is Tad and one is Tim. And they are both, thank God, alive and have each presented me with a grandchild. The other side of my family, from my new wife, I have three daughters and two sons-in-law and two grandchildren. The grandchildren from this family are as dear to me as my own (there is one of them that might even be a little bit dearer). You see I never had a granddaughter and in this mess I picked up a granddaughter. I am telling you, that…

Weinstein: That is pretty special.
Elaine S: You have two granddaughters
SAVINAR: Yes, I have two now, but I said one of them I picked up. One of my sons has a daughter too. The other has a son. What about you, aren’t you a Grandma?

Weinstein: I am. I have a grandson.
SAVINAR: Well sure, you know how it is. I don’t care about my children at all, especially the boys [laughing]. But I do love my grandchildren.

Weinstein: Very well put. And on that note, I am going to end this interview with the hope of returning some time and going over some of those things that we left unsaid.
SAVINAR: I didn’t think I was going to do as well as I did. And I’ve got to admit I did beautifully [laughter].