Herman Shooster by Stephen Shooster

Herman Shooster The Son Of A Tailor Who Was The Son Of A Shoemaker

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Herman Shooster THE SON OF A TAILOR WHO WAS THE SON OF A SHOEMAKER

Herman Shooster

80 Harry Graduates High School 81 No Money 83 Helping Casey 83 Born at Home 85 Fooling Around 85 Herman as a Student 85 Varnishing the Floor 87 The Mettle of a Man 87 Tears Drop in His Soup 90 Careers 92 The Shooster Brothers 92 Judiasm 93 Atlantic City 94 Harry’s Marriage Proposal 94 Trouble in the Corporation 96 Reflections 96 Frank’s Teeth 96 A Testament to Frank Shooster 98 A Dream Home

HERMAN SHOOSTER My Father- Stephen Shooster

12-13 Diary Entries 17-18 A Short Jewish History Lesson DORA SHOOSTER 21 The Shtetl 25 Devorah Chumot 28 A Dangerous Fall 29 Education 30 The Pear Tree 30 Early Life 32 Benjamin Chomut / Emmett 34 Another Forced Marriage 35 Permission to Leave 36 The Voyage 36 Chocolate 38 The SS Rhein 40 A Place to Stay 40 Finding a Job 41 A New Outfit 41 Boyfriend 42 Rose Engelman 43 Falling in Love 44 Marriage 46 Not a Penny 46 In The Life 46 Another Pregnancy 47 A New Place 48 Oy Vey Iz Mir 48 Varicose Veins 49 Vacation for Frank 49 Playing Cards

GROWING UP

THE WAR YEARS

106 111 113 113 114 118 120 123 123 127 140

FRANK SHOOSTER

56 The Corporation 57 Early life and jewish history 60 Family Name 60 Blitzkrieg! 62 The Shoemaker 62 The Shoemaker’s Son 64 The Double ‘OO’ in Shooster 67 Tanta Mary (1885 - 1978) 71 Mr. And Mrs. Frank Shooster - Kids 72 Not a Penny in the HOuse 74 The Partnership 76 Dissolve the Partnership 76 More Competition 77 Isaac Shooster (May 30, 1921)

04/22/21

Born into Tough Times The Kid Timeline of My Father My Parents Early Years Elementary and Middle School Chester High School ‘38-’42 The Neighborhood A Stone’s Throw Teen Years George Nichols’ Obituary

144-149 Timeline 1939 - 1946 152 A Soldier’s Perspective 158 Fort Ord 159 Destination Classified 159 Gusika, New Guinea 162 The Marianas Turkey Shoot 164 Joining the Paratroopers 164 Bob Hope Noemfoor - Loew’s Malaria Tour 164 Sjoriboe Area / Noemfoor 164 Lingayen Gulf / Luzon / Phillipines 168 Tagaytay Area / Cavite / Luzon 169 Bacolod City/ Negros 169 Panay / Iloilo 170 Cebu 171 Home - Jan 2, ‘46 185 Death Camps

186 192 192

Summary Of Testimony of Issac Emmett The Lost Family Members Faces of The Holocaust

196 198

The Aftermath Events That Made Me The Man You Know Me To Be

219 219 220

THE AFTERMATH OF WAR

FRANK SHOOSTER, SR. 1893 - MARCH 2ND, 1950 The Son of A Shoemaker Herman’s Diary Excerpt My Dad

NEW BEGINNINGS

226 Song Writing 226 Two Hearts Have I 226 When You’re In Love 227 Hold You 228 Next Steps 230 Maried Life 232 Home Sweet Townhouse 233 The Sandbox 234 Notes To First Child (1953) 236 Pages From A Diary 241 Drive-In To Restaurant 252 Shooster’s Night Watch 261 Times A Changing - The Bridges 261 Wick’s Big Moe 264 Forever Changed 264 Exit Ramp 266 1960-1967 National Food Marketers 273 Shooster’s Frozen Specialty 273 Products 274 1969-1972 Cherry Hill Foods 278 1972-1974 United Coffee 278 Unemployed 279 Vita-Slim 280 Resume 1973

302 Everything By Hand 303 Beepers 304 The Cutting Edge 305 Computer Telephony Convergence 310 Extortion! 314 Shop-By-Phone 315 Bob Case 315 777 Properties 318 Love Is In The Air 318 Family Business 319 The 800 Number Revolution 322 Creating A Call Center 324 Interactive Response Technology 325 Software Patent 327 Going With The Flow 330 The Festval Flea Market 330 Kelley’s 334-335 Transitions 336 Global Response 340 Your Brand / Our Passion! 342 Global Response North 344 A Remarkable Story 346 Always With Me

WAR LETTERS

347-448 War Letters

FLORIDA

284 Broward Business Services 288 Ding-A-Ling 290 The Accountant 290 Little-By-Little 296 Acquisitions 299 Frank And Carol Brooks 302 Self Reliant to A Fault

Schuster beit Vater, Schvester Fng. Jircder est Juden Father Works as a Shoemaker 1912 - Artifacts collection of Yad Vashem Museum

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The Highlights of this Memoir: The Earliest Photos of The Family. Interviews With Dora Shooster (1892-1976) Frank Shooster Sr. vs. The City Of Chester - Supreme Court Of Pennsylvania Ruling V-Mail During The War Both Sent And Received Secret Documents From The War, Declassified Herman’s Own Words Describing His Experience With PTSD Requiem For Frank Shooster, Sr. Married Life With Kids Lyrics By Herman Shooster The Story Of Ding-A-Ling Answering Service The Story of Global Response

Dedicated to my family, grandchildren and all the future generations. May the past help you understand the future. Joeseph & Becky Leuchter, Eliana, Fancy and Nathan Herman Jessica & Natalie Leuchter Abigail Leuchter Forrest Shooster Max Shooster Jake Shooster Logan Shooster Jay Shooster Lauren Shooster Tommy Shooster Jason Shooster Jaime Shooster Carly Shooster Cassidy Shooster

Shooster Publishing www.shoosterpublishing.com 954-537-1200 Margate, Florida 33068

04/22/21

HERMAN SHOOSTER PREFACE

Patterned Design Painted Herman Shooster 1953 Watercolor

I will think of you every day. I will honor your name in everything I do. I will draw strength from your teachings. I will help others whenever I can. I will get back up when I fall down. I will face my fears with a smile. “My father always wanted to write a book about our family history. My gift to him is its accomplishment.” - Stephen Shooster

Major Events During the Life of Herman Shooster The Great Depression of 1929 The Rise and Fall of Nazi Germany The Holocaust The Atomic Bomb The Cold War and the Red Scare The Racial Integration of Schools The Invasion of Korea The Cuban Missile Crisis The Assassinations of JFK and MLK The Invasion of Vietnam The Moon Landing The Resignation of Richard Nixon The Iranian Revolution The Rise of Thatcherism and Reaganism The Destruction of the Challenger The Fall of the Berlin Wall The First Gulf War The Dot Com Bubble and Bust The Terrorist Attack on 9-11 The Great Recession The War on Terror

MY FATHER

Foreword, Feb. 16, 2014 By Stephen Shooster My father always wanted to write the story of his family. Many years ago, he wrote the framework deliberately expressing himself with plain-spoken humility. I have tried my best to grant him that wish. In writing my father’s memoir, I feel a sense of completion. Working every morning for years, I felt compelled like never before to get it done. Some of my fondest memories were sitting with him, side-by-side reading our notes and adjusting them as directed. A memoir is a form of discovery. Perhaps the most poignant thing I learned is that my father worked almost every day of his life, from high school through his sunset years, including the difficult time near the end, as he was receiving blood transfusions. I will never forget him asking me to take him to work after 4-6 hours of treatment. He never missed a day’s work without a very good reason. In 1972, at the age of 48, he was out of work for two years. I believe that experience may have been the toughest of his entire life. He was lost. Not a good place to be with four kids ready for college. How he navigated those times and what he ended up doing are now remarkable and lasting. At the age of 50, he began to build a business starting with ten employees to one of over a thousand. Finally, at the age of 88, he won The Sun-Sentinel Excalibur Award - businessman of the year. It was a lifetime achievement. One of the key tenets my father lived by was the simple expression; Face It. In doing so, he told us, Fears usually outweigh reality. Facing them will frequently dispel whatever is holding you back. Boy, did he face it. Fresh out of high school, impatient with the army draft during WWII, he enlisted. Deployed as a medic in the Pacific theater, he volunteered for paratrooper duty. His application stated ‘full and bounding,’ but he was denied. The division was already full because all of his peers stepped up, too! It is no wonder his was called The Greatest Generation. 8

My father returned from the war deeply scarred by combat fatigue. Combat fatigue is also known to doctors as a psychiatric collapse, or in common parlance, a nervous breakdown. Back then, mental illness was considered a character flaw. To reveal it, was to admit weakness. My dad had the insight to recognize a medical condition. Even so it would be a year before he told his parents. He opted for psychiatric treatment at his own expense, secretly working a night job to pay. He recovered, but not without suffering through multiple electroshock therapy treatments. He went on to marry and live what we would consider more than a normal life, a life to be emulated. One thing that my dad always wanted, was financial independence. He dreamed that one day he would be his own boss. His vision was large enough to imagine being able to bring his kids into a business with him. Not only did all four of us join, but most of our spouses too! My father’s life was marked by challenges. He boiled those down to another expression: All you have to do to succeed is get up one more time than you fall down. Smiling he would hold a brass chamber pot he kept ‘under his coffee table at the office and say,’ I’ll always have a pot to piss in. We all laughed. In later years, my father faced it again and again, conquering multiple life-threatening medical conditions, but in the end, he could not beat leukemia. Can you imagine what might have happened if America did not drop the nuclear bomb on Japan? For us, this is a theoretical exercise, but for him it was existential. He and his comrades were all preparing for the invasion of the main islands of Japan. Based on their war experience, they already knew the enemy was groomed and hardened for a tenacious fight. Casualties upwards of 70% were expected. One atomic bomb, then another, stopped the bloodshed and sent a whole bunch of hoot’n and holler’n guys back home, including my dad.

Before the war, my father was on track to study medicine. The Army tested his IQ and selected him for just that, medical training. By the war’s end, he advanced to the level of T-5, surgical technician, a corporal in today’s army. The war experience ended up being too much for him. Having to treat wounded and dying soldiers left him scarred. When he was ready to return to school he chose marketing. While attending college he worked until 2 AM at the family’s drive-in restaurant as a short-order cook. Many times, he told me with the biggest smile on his face, “I must have cut a zillion onions and formed thousands of burgers, all while yelling ‘Pick Up!’ as they rolled off the grill.” Enrolled at Temple University. His parents were ecstatic. He became the first person in the family to earn a college degree. When I look back and think about how he obtained his degree it is a mystery to me. Who could have the time to concentrate after working those hours? His grades suffered, but he got through it. As a young man my father also wrote lyrics. He told me he thought he could make it as a songwriter. We have his lyrics. One of them includes the music. I had that one professionally reproduced. Back in the day that piece was etched to vinyl, but I haven’t been able to find the album. My parents loved to travel. When we were younger they piled us into the back of a country squire station wagon and we took trips to Montreal - Canada, Gettysburg - Pennsylvania, Maine, Atlantic City - New Jersey, and more. Once we were old enough to take care of ourselves my parents started to take cruises. They loved cruising taking at least 50 cruises in their lifetimes, seeing the world in comfort; a far better way to travel than on a troopship wondering about enemy torpedoes, something he experienced during the war. My father lead an exemplary life. His business provided jobs for thousands, good jobs with health care, and a clean working environment. His was the largest funeral I have ever witnessed. It was miles long, a full house at the synagogue with people standing in the back.

He wasn’t a business titan, never set out to be. When I asked him he said his mission was to be the best on his block. Life is a miracle; we owe it all to our progenitors. We are the combination of all of their effort, all their hard work, all their struggles. Not just their struggles either, everyone’s. We live in a world full of people. On a normal day, we fail to realize the epic nature of life itself. We are mere driftwood on a giant canvas riding an ocean of time, and even though it seems that we have little ability to affect the world, and even though we frequently find things are out of control, we can find some measure of solace, some measure of organization, some small catalyst of all the things to come by honoring our parents. That is why I write. That is why it is important to read. That is why this memoir of my father is not just his story but mine, and not just mine, but ours, and not just ours, but the future. Lessons learned, experiences shared, the summoning of all those spirits who came before us, and through quiet reflection, like signposts on a long journey, give a sense of direction and values for our own lives. One day a man will walk on another planet, and that man will be using his learned experiences at home to understand this new landscape, and if they are as thoughtful and loving as I expect them to be, they will also pay homage to their fathers and mothers. My Father, Stephen Shooster

The Tailor Frank Shooster 1950?

Stephen Shooster - My father always chose his words carefully, keeping them simple enough to be clearly understood. I recall him making statements and then taking a long pause to make sure they sunk in. When I reiterated what he meant, his ideas would frequently get misconstrued. When this happened, he took the time to say them again, perhaps in a different way. He always maintained a goal or a vision in mind of how he wanted things to be. Those thoughts are very hard to share. He had lots of patience.

I never understood how he would point to an old photo of his father and say, “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about him.” I challenged him snidely. He said, “One day you will understand.” That day is today and every day in my future.

Herman and Dorothy Shooster Wedding Photo 24 FEB 1953

Last Entries in Herman’s Journal

2008 - AUGUST

I always wished I had more knowledge of my parents’ lives. My mother left a detailed account of much of her life, which Dorothy had the foresight to record on tape. But I know very little about the intimate details of my father’s life and even less about the old country. With this document, I am trying to leave some record of my own life for my family, for my children and my grandchildren. It is not intended for general publication nor do I have any illusions that it merits wider reading. As they grow up and marry and have children of their own, I know this record will become more valuable to them. To my surprise, after writing a good deal of it, I find that I enjoy trying to recollect the chapters of my life; however, I am not a skilled enough writer to be able to put down here a good record of the emotional side of the facts recounted. As we all discover eventually, much of life comes to us bearing intense feelings of joy and sorrow, ecstasy and remorse, fear and contentment. I have experienced them all. My wife, my children, and my grandchildren have made me one of the happiest men in the world.”

Today is Saturday, August 2008. For the first time in years, I clicked on the button that brought up this book. Haven’t read what I wrote here in a long time, so I think I’ll just start over... at least, try another ‘beginning.’ I will be 84 in a few months, I still go to the office every day, still working to build the business, still trying to smooth the way for my family to get along better. Every one of them, four kids and their spouses, now works for the company I founded. Don’t get me wrong. They have been a joy to work with all these years, but sometimes, there are personality clashes. How could there not be? This is a group, my children, and their spouses, of very smart people. They all have points of view; they don’t always agree. Yet, somehow, at the end of the day, at least, most days, they get along fine. These times, are challenging economic times, maybe the most challenging since The Great Depression, yet, our business, Global Response, is doing fine, all because of them and the people we have hired, which I now include as my extended family. I have, from time to time, thought about stepping away… retiring. But, if I did, I think, I would not know what to do with my time. As things are, the children seem to think that I still have something to contribute. So, in I go, every day. Together, we have all gone further than I would have were I alone in the business. Together...”

-- H.S. Eagle Trace, Coral Springs, FL.

Herman’s Home Office

2009 - OCTOBER

2010 - FEBURARY

Time has marched on. The last time I looked at this stuff was in August of 2008. Today is October 31, 2009. The past year, 2009, brought big surprises. After a cruise across the Atlantic to Europe and Africa, Dorothy and I returned home in early May. It was at this point that I decided to get four dental implants so that I could eventually rid myself of the dentures I wear every day. But, first I had a slight pain in my chest and thought I should have my cardiologist check me out before enduring the trauma of dental surgery. To my great surprise the pain turned out to be a symptom of a very large aneurysm in my aortic arch. Sixteen years prior, I had surgery for the same condition on the other side of my aorta. I knew instantly that I would have to undergo open heart surgery if I hoped to survive. I knew exactly who to call, Doctor Coselli. He performed my previous surgery. One week later I was at St. Luke’s Hospital in Houston and faced it. ‘Face It’ - That is the motto I live by.”

It is now four months later, Feb. 2010, and I seem to be recovering nicely. The weeks after my surgery turned out to be some of the worst of my life. I was experiencing terrible pain in my belly with no apparent cause. Weeks later, after many visits to my family doctor and after being referred to a gastroenterologist I was finally diagnosed with, of all conditions, ‘Panic Disorder.’ I was referred to a psychiatrist who put me on medication that finally, Finally! gave me relief. Now I am on my way to total recovery.” -- H.S. Eagle Trace, Coral Springs, FL.

-- H.S. Eagle Trace, Coral Springs, FL.

Herman’s Reflections in his own voice. Using your mobile phone open your camera or just follow the link.

DAD 89

https://shoosterpublishing.bandcamp.com/track/herman-shooster-reflections

SLOW MOVER

by Stephen Shooster, Friday, 3 July 2009 at 4.30 pm, Houston, TX written while my dad was having major surgery

Once upon a time I wanted a roaring engine with red and white stripes, a fast mover. I would roll down the main street revving my engine at stop lights; all heads would turn, a fast mover. Then one day my dad finds out he has a ticking time bomb in his chest, a weakness in the artery. Within a week my world is upside down, finding my mom and brothers playing scrabble in the ICU waiting room while my dad fights for his life. I let my mom win every time, to lighten her spirits and because she’s way better than me. With a tube in his throat and heart exposed, body cooled down, we laugh irreverently, nervously, full belly laughs. We held hope in our thoughts, no other choice. Finally eight hours later... alive... repaired. Thinking back, all I wanted was a fast mover. Now, for my dad, the only way back was through the chasm. The only way back to our world for him was through a deep valley, being tested by 1,000 challenges. Bang! Restart the heart, stitch by stitch. Thwack, thwack, staples in the chest. Stitch by loving stitch, pronto. Rolling down the cavern into the cave it’s dark; he can’t see a thing... The cave, the Intensive Care Unit, the first step, no windows, lots of attention. He hears a noise. A subway assault. He thinks, “How am I breathing?” Intubated Lights flash drip, drip, He thinks, “The enemy must have me tied down.” His leg twitches... no energy... sleep. The only way back is through the chasm. Bang, awake again. Can’t talk. Drugs manage him, a little of this... awake, that... asleep Haze, noise. He thinks, “Who am I? Who is he?” The robot in him responds. He thinks. “I must be captured.” Rest, torture, rest. Hands flail, he thinks “I must escape, can’t talk, can’t warn my buddies. Marshaling strength I have broken my handcuffs.” He thinks with no thought other than freedom, jerks the tube from his throat, FREE, I... I can’t breathe, dying, trapped, medic! Saved! Oxygen, saved. Regrouping, he thinks, I have to escape. Under fire. Keep your head down. Grenade!

They got me. Captured. Truth serum. Can’t... Can’t fight, delirium. Name, Rank and Serial... slurrr, taking punches. I’m here, kind of... delirium... I hear fellow prisoners, “Get out, I tell them to get out... Resist!” It’s futile - unconscious.

Slow Mover Close-up 2009 42” x 36” Drawing by Stephen Shooster Colored Pencil, Ink, Metallic Inks, Watercolor paper

I would be driving down Main Street all heads turning, a fast mover... Roarrrr My buddies... they are saving me. Carrying me away from the enemy. Close call. Out of the cave. I hope they damaged those guys. Weak ... drifting... sleep. Safe for now. “Whew,” close call, re-group... Tired beyond tired. Nursing me back still stuck in the valley. “Dorothy,” I call her name, “guide me.” His strength returns slowly, heart beating. Again fellow soldiers rescue him. Drag him to a field hospital. More nurses, strength, sleep.

Racing down Main Street in my fast mover... All heads turn. He thinks, “They sent me back to a real hospital. Walls and toilets come into focus. I must be out of the valley. I see Dorothy - “Hi.” “Hi,” back... and kids...they get me up on my feet... so tired. They make me walk. Hand me a walker, and teeth, and hearing aids, and glass-

es. I walk slowly, one step at a time, tired; sit, sleep, need help to move, anything. The sun rises... they hand me my teeth, hearing aids, glasses, breathing toy, every morning a routine, draw blood... And me, I got my Slow Mover ready for the day One step... another. I got my Slow Mover, who needs a fast car. I got my Slow Mover... still... dad survived

New York: Rusling Wood, Litho., 1917. Color lithograph poster. Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress Charles Chambers (1883-1941). Food Will Win the War You Came Here Seeking Freedom Now You Must Help Preserve It Wheat is needed for the allies, Waste nothing.

16 Herman Shooster with his Red Car

A SHORT JEWISH HISTORY LESSON Stephen Sbooster - My father, Herman Shooster, was born the third child of Eastern European Jewish parents that immigrated to the United States around 1910. They set up thier home in Chester, Pennsylvania. How they arrived was a miracle. Eastern European Jews called Poland and neighboring countries Illustration of the Arch of Titus showing the sack of Jerusalem in 70 AD. home for almost 1,000 years. It might have gone people, conquered Rome in 368 AD. In doing on another 1,000 years if cataclysmic events did so they placed a wedge between the east and the not conspire to shake things up. Those events west, making contact nearly impossible for Jews shaped the world in which we live today. on either side of the divide. Hundreds of years Going way back to 70 AD with the siege of passed before that wedge was broken by hordes Jerusalem, the Jews were forced to leave their from the east, in the form of Arabs and Berbers, homeland by the conquering Romans. It would who beat the Visigoths back in 711 AD. not be until May 14, 1948, three years after WWII, Our family stems from the Ashkenazi sect. that they would have a country again. WithTowards settlements in the east, the Ashkenazi out a homeland, they wandered around Europe, befriended the local indigenous population. These congregating in two main regions; Spain and the people, known as Sythians, got there name from combined nations of Germany, Poland, Russia, the handheld tool they used for cutting grasses, a and surrounding territories. This wandering was scythe. Thousands of them converted to Judaism given a term, The Diaspora. and the populations mixed. The Jews that settled in Spain eventually Mores and customs required Jews to marry became known as Sephardic, or Spanish Jews, Jews. Because the Scythians were now Jewish, the while those that went east became known as cultures merged. Understanding this reveals the Ashkenazi. The Spanish Jews enjoyed relative reason why the Jews from this region are called wealth, bordering on an aristocracy until they Ashkenazi. It’s a Yiddish word that means Scythwere forced to leave or convert during The Spanian or ‘People of the Scythe.’ ish Inquisition (1478). Many ended up in Holland. Most of these old-world people would rareMeanwhile, the Eastern Jews suffered every ly, if ever, travel beyond their village. In fact, the kind of degrading persecution. The region itself kings and nobles of the land considered the people was difficult, with terrible winters and meager to be part of their holdings. With meager means existence. Piled upon them were restrictions the people lived lives of quiet desperation, but designed to keep from gaining wealth. Some of even so, there were glimmers of hope, remaining the Jews still prospered, lit the candles on Sabbath, observant to their faith and rituals. and prayed fervently at temples they built. The Ashkenazi created an extensive culture Saddled with extra taxation, and deadwith its own expressive language, Yiddish. The ly, lawless pograms they had nowhere else to Yiddish language is a combination of Hebrew, go. Forced to endure hardships. Anti-Semitism German, Slavic, Polish and Russian. Yiddish simmered, randomly boiling over until 1939 developed as a slang language. Written with when being Jewish, in and of itself, meant a death Hebrew letters, it became so widely accepted that sentence under the Nazi regime. newspapers, short stories, novels, and plays were Given the distance between the two primaproduced. ry sects of Jews during the diaspora, a divergence Many of these written works have survived, in the culture occurred. It was exacerbated when and some have been translated into English. In the Visigoths of the north, a nomadic, Germanic

New York, there is a library called YiVO dedicated to its preservation. When Yiddish was transcribed into English, the Jews, at first, resisted. Latin letters were abhorred as the language of the church, but most Americans couldn’t read Hebrew, so transcription was the only way to reveal the stories to a wider audience. These stories are windows into a lost time and place. Among the best are the writers: Shalom Aleichem and Isaac Singer Wherever the Jews settled, they learned the local language along with Hebrew and in the east, Yiddish. Living in different regions yet speaking a common language made them well-suited for commerce. Large portions of the international Jewish population maintain a strict adherence to religion. Because of their strange customs and extensive language skills, they have been characterized as, A Nation Among Nations, and their meetings sparked concern among the ruling classes. Conversely, the Jews became ideal agents for those very same rulers. In doing so, they collected taxes, managed workers and took care of property. Mixed feelings helped fan anti-Semitic actions from the locals who were often jealous and vindictive. The result was an uneasy truce, a powder keg. Yet, for the most part, the various sects of people kept to themselves. In those years the measure of success was the number of children they had and the location of one’s seat in the synagogue. Much of an Orthodox Jew’s time was spent in prayer. It was a different sort of time. A myriad of customs and institutions defined just about every aspect of their lives. Disease and famine were near companions. Child mortality was very high.

Note: A scythe is a long wooden stick with a cutting blade at the bottom and a handle in the center. It is a well-balanced tool for mowing fields of grain by hand. Since the land was well-suited for growing grain, the region became known as the breadbasket of Europe.

Anti-Semitism always bubbled just below the surface. At certain times, Jews were forced to wear distinctive clothing, and mark their names on the outside of their doors. Actions like this led to further reprisals and alienation. But it is also ironic that in some ways the same restrictions that made life difficult made the people strong. Many became small businessmen, merchants, and money lenders. A few thrived, becoming wealthy by the standards of the times. The Yiddish civilization flowered in this imperfect world. Communities grew, and synagogues were built. Families raised children, celebrated marriages and buried their dead. The full cycle of life blossomed and wilted, and blossomed again, and again. One myth about the Jews relates to money lending. This practice was forbidden by all the major religions prior to the year 1250. In that year the Jews were forbidden from working specific jobs and pushed into towns. Those same restrictions prompted them to take up business careers. Money lending was just one alternative. Some of those new urban-dwelling merchants became wealthy. It was those men who gathered enough wealth to have money to lend. Reference Yiddish Civilization The Rise and Fall of a Forgotten Nation by Paul Kriwaczek 2006

Man holding a Scythe.

DORA SHOOSTER 1892-1976 Jewish Immigrant Seamstress Mother Grandmother

Cross Stitching by Dora Shooster, Circa 1950’s

Pale of Settlement Number of Progroms

2020 Map of Europe / Dora Shooster’s Origin / Latitude 50° 42´/ Longitude 26° 34´ The Various Names for Tuchin: Tuczyn - Polish;Tutshin - Yiddish; Tuchin-Krippe - Russian; Tuchyn - Ukrainian; Тучин - Ukrainian

Pogroms / Crop Failures

Pogroms / Political Turmoil

Frank Shooster

Dora Shooster

Map showing birth locations of Frank and Dora

THE SHTETL Dora Shooster, born Dobe Chumot, came from the small town of Tuchyn, located near the Horyn River in what today is the Western Ukraine. It is located within the district of Volyn, in the region of Volhynia, approximately 24 km NE of the city of Rivne. To the Jews, small villages like Tuchyn were called shtetls. This entire region was subject to shifting national borders. At the time Dora was born, her hometown was part of tsarist, Russia. When the Jews settled there, it was Poland. Jews became Russian after the territory was conquered. Once they became Russian they were limited in where they could travel. The area they were allowed to travel in was called the Pale of Settlement. They were not allowed to leave to the west or go deeper into Russia. Life was hard, food was meager. When Dora was a child, her mother, Hinda Kelemacher (1870-1896), died. About a week later, her oldest brother also died. He was buried in the same grave. Her father, Mikel(1897-1936?), married his wife’s sister, Devorah ‘Dobe’(1865?1942), against her will, a common custom. Due to Dobe’s resentment of a forced marriage, Dora and her other brother, Benjamin (Boruch), were treated harshly. This led them to seek better lives elsewhere. They were not alone. From 1880 to 1924 two million Jews migrated to America from Europe. On multiple occasions, Dora asked her father if she could leave. He said unequivocally, “No.” Eventually, he acquiesced after intense persistence. She arrived in the USA between the ages of 15-18. It is hard to be sure since she may have adjusted the records. We have notes that place her birthday

on different years. With the help of a genealogist, we found the manifest record of her crossing. It says she was 18. Her tapes say she was 17 while dating in America. She most likey was 16 upon arrival to America. Ten years after she arrived in America (1921), the national boundaries of Tuchyn changed again, this time from tsarist, Russia back to democratic, Poland. Then, suddenly, in September of 1939, the Soviets took over, prompted by Nazi Germany’s invasion of Western Poland. Prior to the invasion the Nazis and Russians created a treaty agreeing to divide Poland. Russia took the eastern half of Poland, including Tuchyn. In 1940, the Nazis double-crossed the Soviets, attacked Russia, and little Tuchyn was overrun by Nazis, spelling disaster for the Jews who lived there. Most of the Jews fled ahead of the Nazi occupation. Of those who remained about 3,000 were immediately killed and the rest placed in a ghetto. That ghetto swelled to thousands. They suffered with little food and overcrowding until 1942 when Tuchyn was liquidated, killing its remaining Jewish inhabitants. A few survived. During the slaughter of Tuchyn, it is recorded that the Jews fought back feebly. It is notable that they were able to fight at all. They had little firepower to sustain a battle. By the war’s end, the Soviets reclaimed the region, and only 150 Jews returned. After the war, the Jewish population increased, and eventually, they left in a mass exodus to Israel. The old people stayed and eventually passed away. By 1992, the Ukraine was established, and no living Jews were left in Tuchyn.

Mikel Chomet and his son Elich circa late 1930’s

Mikel Chumot (1875 - 1935?)

The Yizkor Book of Tuchyn (Book of the Dead), recounts some of the stories, ‘Tuchyn was a vibrant community with four synagogues, including one called The Great Synagogue. The Jews who lived there were mostly Hassidic, (a very religious form of Judaism.) The town also included multiple Zionist organizations that were teaching the youth the skills needed to return to Israel, a strong desire during those times.’ Dora’s father, Mikel Chumot, was a grocer. On Friday nights after temple, he collected small loans from those he had extended credit to during the week. He must have done well enough since he supported a live-in housekeeper and managed to raise eleven children. The shtetl of Tuchyn was divided into Jewish and non-Jewish sections. The Jews required extensive hours of worship. Prayer was done by davening or rocking back and forth while reciting the Hebrew text. Men were separated from women. One of the main prayers they recited was the desire to return to Jerusalem. Our family lived next to the temple.

“Sh’ma Yis-ra-ael, A-do-nai E-lo-hei-nu, A-do-nai E-chad.” Hear, O Israel, The LORD our God, The LORD is One. 23

24 Dobe Chumot also known as Dora Shooster

DEVORAH CHUMOT (also known as Dobe Chumot Dobka Chumot Dora Goldstien Dora Levitsky (Second Marriage) Dora Shooster Nana Lotkes

Dora Shooster 1960’s - 1892-4 to Dec. 2nd, 1976

In the 1970’s, Dorothy Shooster bought a cassette tape recorder and captured 6 hours of Dora’s stories.

Listen to Dora’s Story in her own voice:

https://shoosterpublishing.bandcamp.com/album/dora-shooster-my-life

Zapiecek - A special fireplace that was part of a typical Russian home circa 1905. Brings to mind stories of immigrants who had to sleep above fireplaces. J. Gotr Preiss, Osten 1910

1970’s Dora Shooster as Interview by Dorothy Shooster 2016 Transcribed and Abridged by Stephen Shooster

Dora Shooster- I would like to start telling the story of my life. My mother took ill when I was a year and a half from a sickness that was called in Russia, the holeria (cholera), here it is called diarrhea. They didn’t know what to do. There were no doctors. She didn’t have to die, but she died. We were left: three children, two boys. I was just a baby. The oldest took sick two days after they buried my mother. Mine brother had terrible cramps. My father didn’t know what to do, so he asked a neighbor. The neighbor said, ‘Just heat up a brick and wrap it around with something, and put it across his

stomach.’ This little boy was eight years old. I guess that was the wrong thing to do. He had appendicitis, and you mustn’t do that. The next day he was dead. They didn’t even make him a funeral. They dressed him up and ‘digged’ my mother’s grave and put him right against her.” My father was left with two children, Boruch and me. The neighbors helped him out. I was so young. After a few weeks, people were trying to match up my father. He was in the grocery business, a neighborhood grocery. He had a little income there like they all did. Anyhow, he had something in his mind.

My mother had four sisters. The youngest girl, her name was Devorah, the same as mine, was engaged with a man in a town near us, called Hosht or Hoshcha. She didn’t even like my father as a brother-in-law, not yet a husband. But my grandmother came along when she found out my father was interested and gave her orders, ‘You have to marry Mikel or else! This is the way I want it. I don’t want Hinda’s wealth to go to somebody else.’ My mother’s name was Hinda. My mother’s sister, Devorah, said she would rather die before she would marry my father with two children. So, my grandmother and father went to a Rabbi in the next town, a big Rabbi, to ask his advice. The best advice the Rabbi could tell my grandmother was, ‘Lock her up in her room and let her stay for three, four weeks she will get tired of it and after she’ll get married, she’ll adjust herself.’ So they did it, and she refused to eat anything. Her sweetheart used to come in the middle of the night all the way from Hosht and throw in some food. After she was there four weeks, she couldn’t take it any longer, so she listened to her mother. They let her out of the room and she finally married. My father wasn’t a poor man. He had a maid in the house, and what you called in Russia, a very nice home, and she became the boss. But, she told my grandmother, ‘If you think I’m going to be a mother, or a good mother, to your grandchildren, you are

mistaken, because I can’t stand them.’ This was her plan for me and my brother. She came in, and she did exactly what she promised. My brother went to Hebrew school. You have to send a boy, a girl you don’t have to. As I was growing, two years, three years, the dressmaker would bring a little dress for me. That’s how they did it in those years. There was no place to buy ready-made clothes. The dressmaker would say, ‘I hope she’ll wear it in good health.’ My stepmother would say, ‘I hope she will never be able to wear it.’ That was the curse. I didn’t understand what it meant. If I would go outside and I didn’t put the shawl on, it wasn’t her fault. With all this, I was a healthy little girl, and I didn’t mind the cold. A neighbor came into the store and said to my stepmother, ‘Why didn’t you put a shawl on Dora?’ By her knowing that she bought me a shawl and I didn’t put it on she beat me so hard, and bit my finger so hard, that my finger still carries a scar. And that’s how I was living in the house. In the meantime, my stepmother started to have children. She had eight. One got drowned, one got choked, she didn’t have good luck with her children. I growed [sic] up until I was about eight years old and I couldn’t stand it any longer. My grandmother at that time was dead already. So, I went to another town, to mine [sic] father’s sister, just to get away from the house. She was so stingy.

Drawing of Tuchyn Shetetl

All I wanted was a piece of bread. They were wealthy people. They had a mill where you make flour. I used to have to steal an extra piece of bread. I stayed there for four weeks. I didn’t stay there; I just suffered there. Anyhow, I growed [sic] up to eleven. I never slept in a bed. She wouldn’t let me sleep in a bed. I had to sleep on top of a stove with some rags, with all the wealth my father had. So, I thought to myself, how could I better myself? So, I went into a neighbor’s house. The third house from us. An elderly woman lived there. She raised a granddaughter because her own daughter died. The granddaughter went to school. So, I came into her and begged her not to tell my father or mine stepmother that I‘ll come in every day and wash her floors and do whatever she wanted me to do, so her granddaughter would give me a lesson in Russian, or Jewish. I didn’t want to grow up dumb. So she said, “Alright Dobe, you come in, at such and such a time.” Whatever I know now, I learned from her. A DANGEROUS FALL

Dora Shooster- When I was about 11 years old in the old country, they didn’t have running water in the homes. You had to bring the water to the house in a pail, and in order to get water, you had to go to the well, or to the river. This happened on a Friday when you’re not allowed to carry it on the Sabbath, after services at the schul, my stepmother said to me, “You have to go out and bring in two buckets of water.” We had a well about two blocks from the house. It was in the street where all the farmers lived. They were very good friends with my mother. I took the two buckets tied on a rope. The weather was very bad. It was in the wintertime, it was slippery, snow. I went to the well and let my bucket into the well, and I was shivering cold and trying to see if the bucket is full enough. So, I lifted the rope, and the bucket was gone. So, I got very scared. I could not come home; she is going to kill me. How can I tell her that I lost the bucket? I have nowhere to turn, don’t know what to do. I start looking down in the well to see if I can

An Old Well found in Poland Drawing by Stephen Shooster

see a sign of the bucket. Maybe I could look down and see the bucket. I fell into the well! I don’t know which way I fell, but I stood up, and I started to yell. I was on the street where all the families lived in that territory. I don’t know who went by, but they heard me hollering. There was a man, and he used to deal with us. He had a grocery store, and we made cereal for him. He says, ‘Don’t move,’ in Russian. ‘Stay there, I’m going home, and I’ll bring you a ladder. I’m going to bring a ladder, and I’m going to lower it down into the well. I’ll bring you up, and I’ll call some of my neighbors.’ He didn’t know who I was. So, I stayed there. He comes back with at least four Russian people. They knew my father very well, and they knew my mother well. They came down with the ladder and a light, a big ladder. They let the ladder in the well, and one man came climbing down, and he recognized me. He called me by my Jewish name, “Doba, what are you doing here?” Anyhow he took me up, and I said, “I can’t go home unless you find the bucket.” So, he looks around. It wasn’t too big of a territory. He finds the bucket, they cover me, and the wife and the man say, “What happened in the well?” He says, “Somebody in the well fell, and that’s the whole reason they hollered.” The wife came running with the husband. This

woman took off her coat, and she wrapped me, and she called me by my name, ‘If only Hinda would be here to see how she (your stepmother) sends you in the night, in this kind of weather to get the water.’ Anyhow, they take out the bucket and put in the water, and they take me home. I come home, and my father don’t [sic] ask what happened. Instead, he said, ‘Where was you so long? What happened to you? It’s about time you should know how to take care of yourself.’ The married man, the farmer, says to my father, ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself to take a little girl of 11-12 years old and send her in the dark to the well. Why didn’t you go?’ My father couldn’t go on a Friday night. He was the guy that for the whole week, for the poor people, would lend them money so they could go and buy something, exchange a dollar, a ruble. And he used to get interest. Every Friday night right after you come from the synagogue you used to come down to my father and pay interest. He was like a bank for them. So, he wouldn’t go anyhow. The farmer says to him, ‘Why didn’t you send your other children?’ EDUCATION

Dora Shooster- So that was my life. From then on I got a little lesson, thinking to myself, if I’m not going to help myself, nobody will help me. She never gave me enough to eat. She never let me go through the house like her kids. Whatever I done was wrong. We lived in the country. There was quite a few people, but I wasn’t educated. So, to myself, I thought, How can I get to a big city? Then I became twelve years old. I already knew what hit me, what future there was for me and who was going to care for me. We lived in a very little village. I wanted to go into the big town to Ruvnet, Geberia, or Rivne. Maybe I could get some, any kind of job there. So, I went over to the taxi man, in Tuchyn. He was the one that would take the passengers from our town to the big city. He knew my mother and he knew me. The whole street had pity for my brother and me, Hinda’s children. I said, ‘Would you take me

to Ruvnet? I haven’t got the 40 cents it costs from our town to there. I am expecting to get a job. I’ll pay you. You are not just going for me.’ When he had a load to take to town. I figured he could make a place for me. ‘I will repay you.’ So, that’s how it happened, and I went to Ruvnet. I started to browse around in the big town. What can a 12-year-old girl do? So, I heard of the people, Yankle Lovitch, very rich people. They were in the goods. They sold all kinds of materials. So, I went in there, and I says to her, ‘I come from Tuchyn, and my father usta deal...’ next door was a big wholesale place, grocery wholesale. My father used to go every week for things that he needed. She knew my father. So, I introduced myself, ‘I am Mikel’s daughter, and I can’t live like I live. Torturer. Could she use me? I’ll sweep and do anything just so I wouldn’t be a burden. Just the food and whatever you give me will be alright.’ Mrs. Lovitch, says, ‘I’m afraid to start with your father. He’ll find out.’ In the old country, it is the biggest shame for your children to go out to work. They have to suffer inside. They are not allowed to go out. I told her to take a chance with me. If he comes to take me back, it will be my hard luck. Mrs. Lovitch, ‘I’ll tell you what I want to do. I just lost a young daughter, and she left a little girl. I took the girl to raise. She is five years old now. I have maids in the house. You don’t have to do no hard work or anything. I just want you for a companion to that little girl. I will give you money every day.’ It was a big luxury to go to a movie for 20 cents. You go to a movie, this was a big town, and after an ice cream parlor. I said, ‘All right you try me out.’ I went in with her, and I usta put on the sleeve and dressed her in the morning when she started school I was her companion. Mrs. Lovitch bought me a very nice uniform. I’ll never forget it. She had it made for me, a very light silk brown dress, with a black apron made out of lace and a blue little sweater. This was the outfit that she wanted me to wear to look presentable. I felt like I’m in heaven at that point. The world had opened up for me.

But, exactly how she said it, my father, with the next trip, found out I was there. He comes into the store, says he wants to speak to his daughter. He wanted me to leave, but I told him I wouldn’t go home, I’d rather go to the river (and drown) then go home. I wouldn’t go. So, I stayed on another while. A year went by, and she made another proposition to me. She said, ‘Dora, you are a very aggressive girl. Why don’t you help me out in the store, at the counter? When we cut the merchandise, you can package it. You can meet more people.’ The little girl was sent to school already; she was seven years old. So, I did that for a while. Then it didn’t suit my father to see me working in the store. So, with the next trip, he came and took me home. It was the same misery again. My stepmother would make me scrub the floors at 4 AM. Her children were all sleeping with beautiful beds and the maids and everything. I had to lay on the floor and scrub the floor. Anything that didn’t have to be done, I had to do. My brother Boruch, they just knocked him down. They usta beat him so much. He didn’t know any better. I knew it was a better world than that. THE PEAR TREE

Dora Shooster- I want to tell you an instance about my brother when he was about 12 years old. So, he went to school and climbed up on a pear tree to steal a few pears from the farmer. They reported him to my father. My father took his clothes away and locked him in his room. In the old country. All the men are wearing leather straps. He took off the leather strap from his pants and beat him that blood was running from his body. Being a sister, the feeling wasn’t right with me. They wouldn’t give him anything to eat. The stepmother rode him like that. At night I usta sneak down, and get a glass of milk, and a piece of bread, and stick it into the room so he wouldn’t starve. My father found out. He beat me so that I thought this was already the end. I suffered like that till I was about fifteen.

EARLY LIFE

Dora Shooster- My stepmother told us that she didn’t want to brush my hair and she didn’t want to put me at the table. My brother and I were not allowed to sit at that table with the family. On Friday night, my father was already a rich man at that time; he used to take a poor man for supper, that was the rule. In Europe, grown-up men with families would go around begging from house to house. My father would go to the schul on Friday night and take one or two, ‘Oy Chum’, they called them, men home to dinner. My stepmother had a special woman to cook the dinner for the family. If she had fish for dinner, she never gave my brother, and I fish. She gave us left-over lima beans, and she gave the other children the better food. I had an aunt, my father’s sister, who had six daughters. She used to send one of the girls after me and take me to her home and wash my hair and keep me there all day. She was very good but very poor. Her husband used to make furniture. If somebody would get married, he would make a bed for them. He made $5 a week. They had ten children. My aunt used to go to the farmer and help take out the potatoes from the ground. She would work there half a day, and he would give her a bushel of potatoes. She would come home and make a potato kugel, and we would all sit down to eat. She had beautiful children, such gorgeous daughters. There was a family that I was related to in Kishinev, which is a city perhaps bigger than New York, in Russia. They had a pogrom there (1903,1905).

The Chomut Family circa 1916 Mikel Chumot (center back) 2nd wife, Doba, she is pregnant with Rivka and their kids Marum, Issac, Baila, Surka, Nachuma. Labeling by the son if Itshak, Michael Emmett.

My mother’s (other) sister, her husband [sic], didn’t make a living. He went to the synagogue constantly. They had six children. Three boys and three girls. She would do different things to help take care of her family. She would cook a chicken for a family, deliver butter to people, any little thing to help take care of her family. He was a very educated man. She was a beautiful woman. She would sell to the rich people and make the living for the family. This family later came to America and became wealthy people. The man became a very good friend of pop’s in this country.”

Brisko by Steven Winkelstein The true story of Luba Oberlander during the Nazi Holocaust.

Dora’s Brother Benjamin ‘Barouch’ or Benzy’ Chomut / Emmett

BENJAMIN CHOMUT / EMMETT aka Benzy or Baruch (1886 - March 11, 1960)

Stephen Shooster - Dora’s brother Benjamin was also known as Baruch or Benzy, was the first Chomut to immigrate to America. Unskilled, he got a job at the shipyards in Chester, Pa. Later, he sold fruits and vegetables from a pushcart barely making a living, struggling each step of the way. Eventually, he opened a small grocery shop. He earned $4 a week at the shipyards saving enough to send for his wife and first child. He woke at the break of dawn to walk his empty pushcart two or three miles uptown near the docks at commission row and fill it with produce. Then he would work his way down 3rd Street pushing that loaded cart another three miles yelling out, in almost impossible to understand English, the foods he offered to sell. “Chorn! Tomatoes! Chabbage!” (i.e. corn and cabbage). This is how he made a living. Not an easy task, especially since there seemed to be a grocery store on almost every corner.

As a little boy, Herman found Uncle Baruch to be one of my favorite people even though he could not speak English beyond a few words. He loved his sister and respected my father. Working in the streets he was often ridiculed and insulted. It took real courage for him to continue. I learned to have the highest respect for him. When my uncle finally worked his way down to our house, he would always come in for a rest and a hot cup of tea. He was a wonderful man. Years later, I thought so highly of him that I named my daughter, Wendy, after him. Boruch was also both a Shomerin* and a Gabbai. A Shomerin is a guardian of the dead. He would sit with a dead body throughout the night and recite the prayers until burial. Doing this job gives great solace to the grieving family and is considered a mitzvah. A Gabbai keeps the prayer service moving along. They aid people to the Torah and do other jobs as needed. I always thought that Boruch’s wife Ida (1887 - Nov. 29th, 1979) was a difficult person to be around. Truth be told since she could not speak a word of English, I never got to know her. I guess I came up with this opinion because whenever I saw her, she seemed to be always yelling at my uncle, but honestly, as a kid, I had no idea what she was even saying. They had four sons: Sam, Izzy, Jake, and Leon. At one time or another, they all owned grocery stores. Izzy was married to Nettie. They had brilliant children. One day Izzy was hit on the head by a robber and never fully recovered. He died young. Nettie is still alive to this day (2015); she is 100 years old. Jake was a tenant of our family on a small property we owned. According to Dora, he was a conniver, and she was not fond of him at all. Leon was a wonderful soul. But Leon never was able to get ahead in anything. We were good friends but eventually lost touch with each other. I am told he died at a young middle age in Florida. Sam, the oldest, was a wonderful person. He died while a young man. He is buried near my parents at the Brookhaven cemetery outside of Chester.

* - Herman had a Shomerin when he finally passed. Knowing that he was not alone was truly a blessing for our family.

Boruch started the trend that changed the family name from Chumot to Emmett. Emmett is a similar sounding name to Chumot with a vast difference in meaning. I was told by his grandson that Chumot means, ‘The leather that is attached to the bit on a horse’s bridle,’ but in Yiddish, I found that Khomets means, Leavened Bread. Perhaps they were bakers? Some stories will never be answered. Meanwhile, Emmett means, The Truth, in Hebrew. By changing his name, like many of the immigrants, he had visions of a chance to live a life and achieve spiritual fulfillment starting anew in America. Dora and Baruch’s step-sister, Riva, became a mail-order bride. Desperate to leave the small town, she yearned for a new life Palestine. Prior to Israel becoming a State it was managed by The British mandate. The mandate designed to keep the region stable and would not allow more Jews into the region. The Jewish colonists desperate, to establish a life needed brides. An arrangement was designed to allow mail-order brides to immigrate. Many of these arranged marriages resulted in divorce after one year. In her case, she fell in love with Nehemiah Schectman, and remained married for 70 years. Their daughter, Deborah, lives in Haifa, with her husband mana Menachim Swartz. The other half-sister, Mehuma Chumot married Abraham [unknown last name], and they live in Assul, Israel.

Benjamin Emmett - Sadar Table - Dora Front Center

Dora’s half-brother, Issac, also survived with his wife, Rose, and their kids, Luba and Michael. The Shooster family sponsored them to come to America. Luba married and became Laura Oberlander. Her husband, Alex Oberlander, died of colon cancer in 1987. Years later she married Ernest Pal, another survivor. Ernest died in 2016. Her brother, Michael was born in a displacement camp after the war. He became a doctor. He is now on the staff of the Baylor University Hospital in Dallas as a notable nephrologist. During the early years of his study, he published a seminal paper describing the ion gap in the chemistry of kidneys. This is a critical measurement of the health of a kidney and something still taught worldwide in schools today. 33

Devorah (Dora’s Stepmother) and Michael Chomut 1935?

ANOTHER FORCED MARRIAGE

Dora Shooster - “Mine [sic] stepmother’s brother, Moshe, lost his wife as well. He was left with three children in another town called Yeurich. So, my stepmother only wanted to take revenge on me because she was forced to marry a widower, that I should also marry a widower even though I was only fifteen. My father told me, ‘You will have to marry.’ So, I thought, Where should I go from here? What should I do with myself? I says to my father, ‘Whatever you are going to make, like a wedding, will have to cost you something. Why don’t you send me to America instead? Just buy the ticket. You don’t have to give me nothing.’ Whatever my mother left, the clothes, the jewelry, was still in the house, locked up. I was already 15 years old. He would never let me even look at it. He did not budge.

So, I thought of a scheme. In the old country, they don’t wait for Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur to go to schul. They go to schul every morning three times a day. It was the building next to us. Everybody knew my father had an expensive seat, called the Mizrach. Seats that faced east towards Jerusalem were the most coveted. You have to be able to afford to sit in those seats. So, I went to the Shochet. The one who kills the cows, the Kosher slaughter for the Jewish people. In the old country, they have respect for all people. They don’t call you just she or he; they give you a title like Shochet. I say to him, ‘Where do I go from here?’ He says, ‘I’ll try to talk to your father.’ But, it didn’t do no good.

So, the next morning, when they were all in schul praying, and they had the tallis that the men are wearing after the Bar Mitzvah, they all wear shawls. They have the tallis over their heads, and they lean down, and they say a certain kind of prayer. So, I thought I’ll go into the schul and while they are praying I’ll ask all the men there to talk to my father. I interrupted them during prayers and asked, ‘Is it right for him to marry me off to a [Dora upset] I was 15. ...to marry me off to a man who was 45, with three children? And I didn’t even... He didn’t even do anything for me? I didn’t even like him for an uncle.’ In the old country, a woman is not supposed to go into the men’s section of a synagogue. You have to sit upstairs. The women sit upstairs. They are not allowed to be together with the men in the same room. So, when you see a woman walking into the main schul of the synagogue, that means they are going to say Kaddish. They only do this if somebody’s on their dying bed. They offer Kaddish to ask God to take mercy on them. So, I walked in, and they all rolled up the tallis from their head, and they recognized me. Dopke, They use to call me. ‘Dopke, what are you doing here? How did you come to...?’ So I says, ‘I want you to stop your praying, and I want to tell my story. I want you people to be mine guardian and help me.’ I said, ‘There is my father.’ He was right there. ‘My father wants to marry me off to such-andsuch a man, and I told them the story.’ They all knew Moshe, too. ‘All I want from my father is just to pay the man to bring me over to America. He doesn’t have to care for me; he doesn’t have to do nothing for me.’ The Shochet went over to my father and said, ‘Mikel, haven’t you got a feeling in your heart? Hinda left you three children, one you buried already. Why can’t you consider these two children like your other children with Devorah?’ He had already about six children. So, he didn’t answer them. He was ashamed that I came into the synagogue. He came home and beat me so that I thought that was the end of me.

PERMISSION TO LEAVE

Dora Shooster- Finally, my father called me in one night. He must have talked to my stepmother, and they decided they are going to send me to America [age 15], but they are not going to give me anything. Just the ticket. The ticket from Russia to America was 45 rubles. When they started to talk seriously about me going away, I says to my father, ‘Why don’t you open my mother’s trunk and let me take something for memory that I had a mother.’ My stepmother immediately said, ‘No, this will never happen.’ The day came. They put me on a train, and I went to Warsaw, then to Bremen, to wait for a ship. He gave me a 50 kopek piece, about half a dollar. That is all the money I was given to take care of myself until I got to America. Before I left we got a notice from the ticket office, ‘You can’t come into America unless you show at least 25 rubles of your own money. You need to show you won’t be a burden upon America.’ I gave my father my hand, in Europe, it is called K’scaraf [sic]. I swore to him that I wouldn’t touch it. As soon as I got to America, how the money is folded up, that’s how I’m gonna send it back. I just want to show immigration that I have the 25 rubles.

25 Rubles

THE VOYAGE

I had a terrible trip coming to America with the ship. I was on the third deck. I was very seasick. I used to buy myself an orange once in a while. It was 18 days, and 18 nights, I was on that ship, and I was very sick the whole time. Nobody cared, and nobody paid attention. The crossing turned out to be a harrowing experience. About halfway across the Atlantic the ship hit an iceberg, and seawater started seeping into the steerage compartment with all the third-class passengers. Alarms blared. Already miserable, I was hardly ready to handle an emergency. Severely weakened by seasickness I needed help just to get out of bed. Once topside, I huddled there in mortal fear and damp bitter cold awaiting mine[sic] fate. The shoes mine[sic] father bought for the journey became soaked from seawater and disintegrated. They were made of cloth and pasted cardboard. About four in the morning, the Captain announced, ‘Thank God, the danger is over. We are safe from the icebergs.’ We sailed three more days until the ship finally landed in Baltimore, Maryland, on August 5, 1910.

Hershey’s Chocolate Wrapper 1910

CHOCOLATE

I got on a train to Wilmington. I didn’t know anything. A boy went around, I thought it was refreshments, I thought it belonged to the 45 rubles that I paid. He throws a bar of candy on each lap. I was so hungry. I didn’t eat for the time I was on the ship, and I loved candy. Anyhow, I got a hold of the candy and ate it up. I thought it was mine. So what happens, when the boy was on his last, he came back, so he says he wants to get paid. And I told him in Jewish that I haven’t got a penny on me. I ain’t got any money to pay him. The man sitting next to me made that I am a greenhorn. He said to the boy, ‘Don’t worry, I will pay you.’

Norddeutscher Lloyd, Breman in rough seas

Norddeutscher Lloyd postcard, (top and bottom) Bremen, crica 1905

Alien passenger for the United States. Excerpt cleaned up for easy reading.

THE SS RHEIN

Stephen Shooster - Family lore speaks of The SS Rhein being mothballed after Dora’s trip due to the damage she encountered along the way from icebergs. Instead, I found the ship was interned at The Port of Baltimore for three years with her sister ship until she was converted into a US war machine and re-christened, The SS Susquehanna. With her new flag, she served proudly with the US Navy until the end of WWII where she continued service as a mail carrier ship. One notable story about this vessel is that she the same route as the Titanic. She was no stranger to icebergs. Dora boarded The SS Rhein on July 21st, 1910. I imagine Dora as a young girl, shoeless, about 16, green from seasickness, arriving alone, in a strange new land, not knowing a word of English. I have trouble reconciling how she could have done it.

Herman Shooster - I was told, upon arrival, Dora proceeded to go through the immigration process part of which involves identification. Not speaking English, when asked her name, she used the same name of the person in front of her instead, Goldstein. She thought since she was unmarried her name would change anyway. In this way, Devorah Chumot became Dora Goldstein. Stephen Shooster - The changing of one’s name upon arrival in the USA is an urban myth. According to the ship’s manifest, Dobra Chomut entered America on Aug. 5th, 1910 with $10 declared. She decided at some point to use the name Goldstein, but it wasn’t at the port. The SS Rhein was built in 1899 and was owned by Norddeutcher Lloyd of Bremen. At 501 feet long with a beam of 58 feet wide she had a top speed of 14 knots and offered accommodations for about 150 first-class passengers, 120-second-class passengers, and 2,500 third class or steerage passengers.

Excerpt and detail of Manifest of Alien Passengers for the United States Immigration Officer at Port of Arrival.

SS Rhein

A PLACE TO STAY

Dora Shooster - My brother could not meet me when I arrived. He was earning a meager .85 cents a day, and could not afford a day off. A woman that he knew came to meet me instead. I could not speak English. She remarked that I talked with my hands and said, ‘In America, you don’t talk with your hands.’ I looked for a little bit of pity. I looked for a little bit of love. She brought me to a family who used to live in this town. Her name was Essie. It was on a Friday night. They had a big store. They sold everything, from groceries to meat and clothing. Essie said, ‘First thing Dora I am going to give you is underwear and everything, and you go upstairs and get a bath. As soon as you start working, you will pay me for everything.’ I hope to God I will pay you, I thought. I had wished that they would give me something to eat already. Finally, when I was dressed up a little, I came downstairs, and she had a big challah bread. She cut me two pieces of bread and a piece of fish. I wanted more bread, but I didn’t have the nerve. I already knew where I was standing, that I had to take care of myself. The next day my brother came. He didn’t have a cent and dressed like a beggar. FINDING A JOB

Dora Shooster- I told my brother to take me to Philadelphia. I want to be in a big town. The next day he took me. It cost .15 cents to take the Wilson Line ferry up the Delaware River. His father-in-law was in Philadelphia, at 3rd and Catherine Streets. His father-in-law married a second time and had two children. We arrived on Sunday and stayed there. Monday, I would start looking for a job. I told my brother, to take me to my girlfriend Goldie. Her father came to America before us. Then, he had sent for his first wife and two children, including Goldie. My brother knew where they lived. We were the same age. She told me that she wasn’t a greenhorn anymore. She got a job sewing sweaters in a factory. They were all working. So, they were in pretty good shape.

I told her that I would do anything. She told me, it was a big walk. The place is at 10th and Race Streets. I told her if she could make it, so could I. The next day I went up on the job. They saw right away that I am a greenhorn. ‘Well, we will start you off at $2.50 a week. You will finish sweaters from 7:00 am to 6:00 pm.’ I said, ‘Alright.’ So, Goldie took me home. She didn’t work that day. I go into her father’s friend’s store. He had a store at 3rd and Fitzwater Streets. Mr. Snyderman, who had four children and a wife named Sheeva. I told him, “I am only making $2 a week, and I wanted to know how much would he charge me to live at his house.” Mr. Snyderman- $3 a week, you will owe the difference when you earn more money. His wife had to give me 4 cents a day to buy lunch for myself. I would buy a piece of herring and some bread. Mr. Snyderman- Do not tell, my wife, that you didn’t have the $3 a week now to pay. I agreed. I used to look like a picture of health. I had very red cheeks. His children used to laugh at me because my cheeks were so red. I asked Mr. Snyderman why they laughed. I was very insulted about it. I used to go over to the sink and put cold water on my cheeks so that they wouldn’t be so red. Mr. Snyderman told me his kids were jealous of me because I was such a pretty girl. I worked at the seamstress job, about seven weeks until one day I said to another finisher, ‘Is this the only sweater factory in Philadelphia or are there some more factories?’ There was no union, nobody to put you wise to anything. He said, ‘Yes, there is one at 3rd and Arch Streets.’ He asked me if I wanted to try for another job. I said, ‘No.’ I didn’t have to tell him my business. Lunchtime was only a half-hour. At dinner time, when I finished my work, I walked over to the other factory, and the man there asked what he could do for me. I told him, ‘I am a finisher of sweaters, and I came to apply for a job.’ I told him, ‘I am still working at Grushner’s.’ He wanted to know how much they paid me. I told him, ‘Never mind, how much

do you pay?’ We could only try you on piecework, he said. He paid a cent for a sweater. When the sweater comes out of the machine, the cuffs and the sides of the sweater, and the pockets are unfinished. When it comes from the sewing machine, the threads are hanging, and the finisher has to finish off the sweater. I figured, What do I have to lose? I told him, I will start next Monday. In the meantime, nobody taught me how to thread the wool through the needle. This was my main problem. So, I thought about bringing a piece of soap from home. By the time I went for the job I learned how to thread the needle a different way. I bought a piece of wax for 2 cents. The first week, I made $4. I paid Mr. Snyderman his $3 a week. Then I started to make $5, $6, $10, etc., but I didn’t have any nice clothes. A NEW OUTFIT

Dora Shooster- I got acquainted with a peddler. I told him, ‘I would like to have a piece of material for a suit, and a hat with a pair of shoes.’ I asked if he can finance me. I can pay him every week? He agreed. So, I went into Silverman’s, and I bought beautiful material. Then, I went to a dressmaker, and she made me a beautiful suit. It was dark red. I also bought a black beaver hat for fifteen dollars, and shoes. I got dressed up, and everybody thought there isn’t a prettier girl. I started to make twelve dollars and as much as eighteen dollars per week. That’s how fast I was. I realized, it is time. I started to save a dollar. I saved $600. I wanted to have a picture of my Father. I wanted to forget the past, and think that in the long run, maybe they did me a favor, and I was compelled to go to America. I sent my father twelve dollars and told him I wanted a family picture. He sent me the picture.

THE BOYFRIEND

Dora Shooster- I was 16½ or 17. The boys liked me. One very good-looking boy was Jake. The people that he stayed with told me, ‘Dora, Jake is a wonderful boy.’ In the old country, his parents were in the wheat business. In this country, he had no trade, so he learned to be an outdoor painter. I went around with him for a while. We became engaged. He didn’t have any money to buy me a ring or anything. I was 17 years old. Jake was about 22. He was in this country for about a year, also. One day he suggested we take pictures of ourselves and send them to Russia so that they would know that we were engaged. We sent pictures to my father and stepmother, and he sent them to his parents. That’s how the time went on. In those days the day to court a girl was on Wednesdays and Fridays. I felt in my heart that this is not what I wanted. I wanted to love somebody; I had never had that feeling of love. I worked with a girl that came from Rovnat, very close to my hometown. Her name was Rose (Engelman). She was engaged. We would talk about our future, and sing the Jewish songs while we worked. She was a very pretty girl. She was a finisher, like me. Every Wednesday, we would walk down together from the 10th floor of our building, and her boyfriend would be outside with a bouquet of flowers to greet her. She was so happy. Whenever she used to talk about him you could see how happy she was. I just went along. One day, I thought to myself, ‘Why do I have to listen to my people and my brother and everyone. I’m only 17 years old. I still have plenty of time. I’m going to make an end to my engagement. I’m going to marry someone when I fall in love.

One-way romance is no good. I told Jake that I liked him and respected him and I didn’t love him, and if you love me one way that’s no good. One Friday night when it was boy night, I was living with a cousin of mine, Jake came for me. He was surprised that I wasn’t dressed up because I always got dressed up. The best good time he could give me was to buy a bag of popcorn for 10 cents and go to the park. We would sit and talk. He could never take me out for dinner. Being a painter, if it rained, he couldn’t work, and he never earned more than $10 a week. I told Jake to sit down that I wanted to talk to him. I told Jake there is no one that I had to ask for advice in America and that I was the one to decide if I loved him, so it was important to make up my own mind. I said, ‘Let’s stop seeing each other for a while. If I see that I am lonesome for you, we could get together again. But, I would like to try this out.’ There were no telephones to call me. He went away. In the middle of the week, he met me at the shop and told me, ‘I am going back to Russia. I am going to do my duty and serve in the Army. I like you, but I can’t stay here.’ I bid him goodbye, and he went away. I never saw him after that. He went to Russia and went to the induction center and signed up. In our little town of Tuchyn, they taught the soldiers the drilling. He knew that my father lived in that town. In the old country, Jewish people were always afraid of the soldiers, Polish people, and of anybody that wasn’t Jewish. They always thought there would be trouble. One day, the bell rings at my father’s grocery store. My step-sister went out to the store and saw a soldier. She got scared. He said, ‘I would like to see your father.’ She got more scared. He told her, ‘Do not to be scared.’ My father didn’t recognize him from the picture we had sent. He was not dressed as a soldier in the picture.

My father went into the house with Jake, and there was our picture on the mantel shelf. He explained, ‘Dora felt she had time to settle down.’ I wanted to say, ‘Hello’ to her family. She always used to talk about you. Jake served in the Army and ended up losing an arm. I found that out through his lantzlite. He never came back to America. ROSE ENGELMAN

Dora Shooster- This friend of mine, Rose, went around with her boyfriend, Frank Shooster. One day she came to work, and we were sitting around the table when she told us they made up their minds that they were going to get married. I wished her the best of luck and asked when it would take place. She told me, ‘In a couple of weeks. She was living with her step-sister at 515 Montgomery Avenue. They were planning no wedding. Frank lived at 19th and Catherine Streets. They were just going to fix up his apartment. We talked about it, her friends and me. When she went out for lunch, I got a hold of the pressers and the finishers and told them that Rose was getting married. Let’s make her something, and we all pitched in to buy her a wedding gift. Everybody liked her, and they were all willing. So, they all pitched in some money, and we made a little set-up to surprise her on Saturday. We went to the bakery and bought some cakes, and the pressers used to have a little stove that you could make coffee or tea. Something to drink. We set it up with cups and the present, and everything and we waited for Rose to come down to collect her pay, and then she would be surprised. We wait and wait, and Rose doesn’t show up. There were no telephones to call. Monday afternoon, when we went out of the shop and walked to Rose’s house. We got there, and I knew Rose’s step-sister Engelman, was her name. I asked her, “Where was Rose?” She told us that when she came home from work on Thursday, the next morning

she didn’t come down. I sent up my little girl, and she came down and told me that Rose was laying there sick. She can’t talk. They got in touch with Frank, and they took her to a hospital. She had a stroke. After that, they took her to a convalescent home in Willow Grove. Celia and I would go with all the trolley cars to visit Rose. Her boyfriend used to take us to the trolley car when we went home. I told Frank I didn’t think I should come next week to see Rose. She doesn’t seem too happy to see us. We are all dressed up, and she is laying there sick. Rose told Frank that she was going to die he would marry one of these girls. He wanted to make sure that she shouldn’t get upset and get sick again, so he told her, ‘If that is the only thing that bothers you, tomorrow morning let’s take a cab and go to city hall and take out our license and get married. Even if you have to still be in Willow Grove, at least you can be sure that I am married to you.’ In the meantime, the doctor told him that he could never marry her, that her heart could never take married life. He felt that if he had married her a week before and she took sick, it could happen once you got married. He didn’t want to have it on his conscience that she took sick because he let her go. They took a cab the next day and on the way in the cab she took another stroke, for the worse. Instead of going with her to city hall, they went to the hospital. She died there that day. Frank got in touch with everybody. In those days they didn’t have an undertaker. Jewish people had a place if they didn’t have anyone, Chevra Kadisha. The Synagogue used to have a garage on Fitzwater Street. They would bring the body there. Rose’s step-sister and brother-in-law wouldn’t make it alone because they felt it would leave them with a bad memory. We were six or seven girls. All finishers from the shop. I cried my heart out. She was so beautiful. I knew her people in Russia. We came from the same area. Frank didn’t care about the other girls crying, but he wouldn’t let me cry. He told me he did everything he could for her and he didn’t want me to cry and make things bad for

myself. After the funeral, he hired a beautiful white carriage and white roses for Rose, and he buried her like a millionaire. The step-sister told him that Rose had saved up $800 and if he wanted, he could take her money to pay for doctors and hospitals. He refused to take her money. He told the step-sister, ‘If Rose got better and Rose finds out that her money went for doctors and medicines, she will eat herself up alive.’ He pawned his suits to take care of her. He felt that money couldn’t buy him. Today, I have no money, and tomorrow I will have money. That’s the way Pop was. A week went by and another week went by. There were no telephones to talk to him. He lived with his sister, Mary, who had four children. FALLING IN LOVE

Dora Shooster- I asked, my friend Goldie, ‘What would you think if I went to Frank to have a suit made.’ I had something else, a fashion in mind. It was too early to think about it. I had a piece of material that I had purchased from a peddler. I went there. I saw the way he handled Rose and how could you not like a person like that? He was so good to her. He made me a blue serge suit, and I wore it over a green petticoat, and half of the green petticoat showed through. This was the style. It had big sleeves. I had a beautiful velvet hat. He used to come to fit the suit at my place. The more I saw him, the more I liked him. I told the lady of the house, Mrs. Lit, who was a very lovely woman. She took an interest in me like a mother. I just boarded there for $2.50 a week. She knew I was in love with him. I bought my own food there. She gave me the front room in her home, and I was satisfied. Anyhow, she went to him. He couldn’t make up his mind about me. It was only a few months after Rose’s death. He was broken-hearted. He liked that girl, Rose, as long as it happened, he was going to take his time. He didn’t have a penny to his name. He had nothing to offer a girl. Every suit he made was in the pawnshop. Mrs. Lit told him, ‘Mr. Shooster, Miss Goldstein ...’ When I went to get a job, they

asked my real name and told them, Chomut. When they asked if I could spell it, I didn’t know what they were talking about. The family I was staying with had a name of Goldstein, so I asked them if they could spell Goldstein, so that’s how I called myself. I also knew I would get married, so I thought, ‘How long will I be Goldstein?’ Mrs. Lit lived on 515 Wharton Street. She told him, ‘Miss Goldstein has a few hundred dollars that she would share it with you. Why should you have to go around mourning? Rose won’t come back to life again. Maybe you will meet someone that won’t be worthwhile.’ She told me, ‘I don’t know for sure if he is that much in love with you, but I think he can go for you.’ She made a date with him, for us, for Yom Kippur. On Yom Kippur, I got dressed up nicely. There were no telephones. I waited and waited. The whole day he didn’t come. Mrs. Lit was so upset because she thought I was suffering. Finally, in the evening he came. His sister went to schul and he had to take care of the four children. I gave Frank $200 to take out Rose’s ring from the pawnshop. Frank had paid $400 for it. The people in the factory knew that if I didn’t come into the factory that I must be in the hospital. Just because I don’t feel well, I would still go to work at the factory. The day Frank was supposed to give me the ring, I didn’t come in on time, I came into the factory late. He brought me the ring at about noon. When I did come in, the forelady told me that she thought that I was in the hospital because I didn’t show up on time. All my girlfriends were around the table when I came in, and I showed them my engagement ring. All my lady friends wanted Frank. Becky and Celia and all of them. Celia fainted away. Herman Speaking- “Mother fell in love with Frank. She never dreamed that he would also recognize her in the same way. In retrospect, they had much in common. Both were struggling first-generation immigrants. Both were from the same part of Russia. Both spoke Yiddish and were similar in age. Each was alone in America. And so they were married in 1915.”

MARRIAGE

Dora Shooster - When I had $600 saved up, Goldie’s father came to me and said ‘Dora, when you keep the money in the bank, you don’t get much. Maybe you get 2%. I’ll give you a man that when you lend him $600, he is going to pay you 6% or 7%. By the end of the year, you will have made yourself a few dollars.’ So, he took me down to 3rd and Fitzwater Streets. The man had a big store full of giftware, china, and housewares. A nice big fellow, redheaded. I told him that this was blood money I was lending him and that I worked very hard for this money. I also told him that Mr. Horowitz advises me to lend it to you and that you are going to pay me interest. I told him it took me three years to earn this money. I figured every dollar earned is a dollar, but I told him I didn’t want him to give me a hard time when I’ll need it. He told me he had nothing like that in mind. He said, ‘I will buy merchandise with it, and I will give you a note, and whenever you come, just give me a day’s notice and I will give you the money.’ So, I gave him the $600. When I needed the money to give to Frank $200 for the ring that was at the pawnbroker’s, I couldn’t find the note. I had lost it! I was afraid to get my money without the note. I thought he may not give me the money without a note. So, I go to my lantzman, Noochem, to help me. Mr. Horowitz, ‘Don’t worry, Dora’ he said, ‘He won’t take your blood money. I’ll explain it to him, and if he won’t pay you, I’ll pay you, because I took you in there.’ He was a hard-working man. I went to the man’s store and told him, ‘I met a very nice boy, and we were going to become engaged, and I need my money, and I can’t find my note, and now it’s up to you,’ and I cried like anything. I was 19 years old. He said, ‘You shouldn’t cry. I will pay you the money,’ and he asked, ‘When will you be getting married? I want to buy you a beautiful set of dishes for a wedding present besides.’ He also said that he had respect for me and he

knew how hard I worked for it and knew I was an orphan girl, and he didn’t want that kind of money. I told him, ‘I need the $200 now, and the $400 when I get married.’ So, I took the $200 and gave it to Frank, and he took out the ring. Years later I gave the ring to Ida, my daughterin-law, but it was stolen from her home. When I got married to Joe, my second husband, and he gave me a ring, I didn’t care too much for diamonds anymore, so he spent only $85 for the setting. [$85 in 1914 equals $2,214 in 2021] I gave this to Ida, too. Harry, Ida’s husband, my son, couldn’t afford to have a ring when she first got married. Meanwhile, my brother, Boruch, told me, ‘I want to dance at your wedding. So you have to make a wedding.’ I told him that I needed the money for furniture. My lady friend, his wife, Dora, said that they would get with some other ladies together and they would cook ducks and chickens. In those days everything was cheap. We will make you a wedding. I rented a beautiful gown for $5 [$130 in 2021] on 5th and Fitzwater Streets, and Frank rented a tuxedo. We also got a few musicians. Tanta Mary came with the four children, and I saw to it that all the children should be dressed. They were all little. We got married on a Sunday night. In the meantime, I went to 5th and Passyunk Avenue, and I bought furniture. She was a lantzman of my father’s, and she gave me wholesale. She gave me a beautiful brass bed, two bureaus, and a beautiful dining room set, too. In those days, everything was linoleum. They didn’t use carpets then, but they carpeted the steps with brass finishes. I even called a paperhanger in to paper the little room in the store. I always liked things to look nice, and I made it beautiful. I couldn’t afford a honeymoon because I just bought furniture with all the money. Frank’s sister, Mary, lived with us. She had a bedroom upstairs. She lived there about a year, and then she moved out. I was planning my first baby, Izzy, at the time. Tanta Mary’s little boy, Harry, was fresh [rude to Dora]. It didn’t work out; he didn’t respect me enough.

We went to Boruch’s house for the honeymoon, in Chester. Boruch’s wife didn’t even have enough courtesy to give me a bed or a couch. It was at 3rd and Hay Street. She put a blanket on the floor, and we slept on the floor. This was the honeymoon. We stayed there a few days because I didn’t want people to know what kind of honeymoon I had, so I purposely stayed there a few days before we came back.” Ida Shooster - “Dora was always saving money. These small funds were known as a knipple. To save she had to hide the money. At one point she hid it next to the motor under the refrigerator. That wasn’t a good idea. The paper caught fire, and she lost her knipple of $250.”

Three Candles Oil on Canvas 1939 Marc Chaghall

NOT A PENNY

ANOTHER PREGNANCY

Dora Shooster - Many days we didn’t have a penny in our house. Frank used to take his suits, he always had nice suits, to the pawnshop. They used to give him $4 on a suit. He would give $3 to his sister, Mary, and her 4 children, and she had no water in the house, only a pump outside, no food, no heat. We didn’t know any differently. He would give his sister, Mary, the $3 so she could buy a bread and a herring, something to eat, and I got along with nothing. Many, many days like that. In those days it was a big disgrace for a married woman to go to work. Right away I was pregnant with my oldest son, Izzy. He was born at 6th and Pine Streets.

Dora Shooster - Soon after I was pregnant with Harry I became very sick, so I went to Dr. Kornfeld at 5th and Girard Avenue. Dr. Kornfeld, I said, ‘I was sent to you, but I haven’t got the dollar to pay you. If you want to trust me, it’s alright.’ I told him that Tanta Mary sent me. He said, ‘If Mary sent you, it’s alright,’ after an examination, the doctor said, ‘I can’t do much for you. What did you do to get rid of the baby?’ I told him, ‘I had done everything, and nothing helped.’ He told me that I have a tumor and it presses on the baby’s heart. He told me that he would have to send me to a professor. I told him I have no money and nobody to ask for a penny. He told me that he would give me a note. ‘When you come in, you give the note to his secretary. He won’t ask for money.’ When I got there, he told me that he wants me in the hospital the following Tuesday. I told him, ‘I already have a baby and who was going to pay the bill? I haven’t got the money. I haven’t got a $1 to give you.’ He said, ‘Sometime when you have it you can pay me.’ I told the doctor when I got back to him that I want to say my piece. I didn’t want that baby to begin with. I said, ‘Could you promise me that I will get rid of my baby? I can’t have a healthy baby with this problem, and I’m a poor woman. I have a baby now that is sickly, and I don’t want to raise a cripple.’ He told me that if he sees the baby was touched, he might be able to help me, but he couldn’t promise me. I went to the University of Pennsylvania Hospital. They had a ward for the poor people of about 200 beds. Tanta Mary took my boy, Izzy, to her place. My cousin Harry, Jake and Noochem all came to my house to say goodbye to me because I had to go to the hospital for an operation. In the late afternoon, I woke up after the surgery and I’m burning up. I wanted a little bit of water; I wanted somebody to wet my

IN THE LIFE

Dora Shooster - Oh my, in the life, Mr. Shooster, Frank Shooster was the kind of married man that buys flowers to tell you how good you are to him, but in his heart, everything wore in, he worried. One day I left him, I was pregnant with my second child, Harry. Izzy, the eldest, was a baby. I went out to buy a little groceries, and I saw a beautiful football at the five and ten store, maybe it was 29 cents, and I looked at mine little bit of money that I had in my hand to buy eggs, to buy bread. I thought maybe from that money I could have enough. I’ll go first to buy the football for 29 cents. So, I went and bought it. Then when I came into the store, instead of buying six eggs, I bought three eggs. It will hold me up for today. So when I came back, he said, Where were you so long Dora?’ (the Acme was only on the corner.) I told him I bought a football. I couldn’t sleep a whole night because of that. That food... I’ll put it in the middle of the table, and I’ll dress it up with a few flowers. How beautiful it’s gonna be. All this registered in my mind.

A NEW PLACE

lips. Just a piece of ice. No nurse, and about 200 beds. Nobody paid attention to you, and I’m laying there very sick. So, Goldie and my cousin Dora had come to visit me, and they carried flowers. As sick as I was, while I was laying in bed, I thought there is my chance. When the nurse will put the flowers in the vase with water, I’ll drink all that water. That’s exactly what I did. The nurse put the flowers in the vase and put it on the night table, and then she went away. I drank all the water. I don’t know how I acted, but the other patients must have seen that I’m dying. A policeman was sent to my husband. They took me down to surgery again, and when I woke up, it was the next morning. As I started to drink the water, I felt life back in me. I was still about six months pregnant. When I opened my eyes, Professor Ernst is staying near my bed. I told him, ‘You didn’t keep your promise.’ He said, ‘You are going to have a healthy baby with this pregnancy. If I would have killed that baby, it would be just like I killed you.’ I asked him who was going to take care of me since I had told him my circumstances. He promised to put me in the best hospital, and that he would take care of me and I’ll send you for vacation. He sent me with Izzy for a vacation in a resort place at Willow Grove. That’s the kind of people that was years ago. [sic] And I never paid a penny. Pop used to come and see us every Sunday. I was still pregnant. I used to see the professor whenever he asked me to come. Harry was born at the hospital located at 40th and Market Street. In the meantime, we didn’t make a living, and Izzy was always sick. Dr. Segal came to me at my home, 19th and Catherine Streets, and told me that I can’t raise my child there or he wouldn’t live. It was a very damp house, and it was a dump. ‘You’ll have to move out of here,’ he said. ‘You are two young people, and he’ll make a living for you, because he has a trade,’ pointing to Frank.”

Dora Shooster - Frank went around to look for a place in West Philadelphia Station, at $40 a month. I figured we could rent out some rooms, and we would sleep downstairs to help pay the rent. We moved there, and I was expecting our second baby any minute. I started to get labor pains when we moved in. Frank took Izzy to Tanta Mary’s house and took me to the hospital Monday morning. When they took me down to the delivery room, all the doctors were sitting there to watch my delivery because of the tumor they removed earlier. It made medical history due to how late I was in the pregancy when it was removed. The professor was preaching to them during my delivery. Harry was such a beautiful boy, but I had a terrible delivery. He weighed 11 pounds. They called him the little policeman. This was a hospital where the nuns worked. They knew how poor I was, but they really took care of their patients. They gave me 10 - 12 glasses of milk a day to drink and they used to pump my breasts that I shouldn’t have too much milk. But they wanted me to have the strength. I was there for about 2 1/2 weeks.

Pregnant Woman Marc Chaghall Oil on Canvas 1913

OY VEY IZ MIR

VARICOSE VEINS

Dora Shooster - So, one day I get a pain in the heart. I didn’t know it was the heart, so I go into Dr. Grey across the street. I was in my 30’s, and Herman was a little baby. So, I go to Dr. Grey, and Dr. Grey listens to my heart, and he says, ‘I am suspicious you have ‘fire’ in your teeth. You better go across the street to the dentist. I didn’t go home to the comfort of my house. I go right across the street from Dr. Grey to Dr. Smith. I come into Dr. Smith and tell him I was complaining to Dr. Grey about my heart. But Dr. Grey says I have pyorrhea in my teeth. So he takes a look at my teeth, and he says, ‘Yes.’ He didn’t take a needle or a picture or what. So, I says, ‘What am I supposed to do?’ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘If you have pyorrhea in your gums all your teeth must come out.’ Just like that! So, I says, ‘When do I start?’ ‘I’ll take out 4 or 5 now. Here.’ So, like a damn fool, I let him take out 4 or 5 teeth. I come home; the blood is running from me. My husband sees me coming in and says, ‘What happened?’ Oy vey iz mir… woe, woe is to me… and now I had to take out all my teeth. I was 35 years old. Herman asked, ‘Did you have pyorrhea?’ Dora said, ‘Who knew about that? Did I go to another Dr.? Did he took an x-ray?’ Herman said, ‘Well, the thing is, you did go back again. You had to take it over, right?’ Dora said, ‘No, he started already. He took out four or five teeth, so I had him take out all my teeth.’ The next day I went for four, till he took out all my teeth. ‘I believe I had pyorrhea.’

Dora Shooster - When I washed and when I ironed I wasn’t in the store. I was in the basement. And I have to run up the stairs whenever a client comes to the store. From all that running I got varicose veins. My legs were three times the size and the veins. And I thought I’m gonna survive my husband, so I make all the arrangements, they are gonna let me know when they are gonna have a bed. I was still young. So, on a Sunday, Mary comes to visit, and I get a call from the hospital to come in that night. It comes to supper, and we eat supper. Mary goes, “Now Frank you’ll have to take me to the hospital. Frank said, “So, what do you mean, hospital? I told him, I said, “Frank, I’m ashamed. I want to look decent.” I says, “I made up my mind and... Frank said, “How come you didn’t tell me? I made up my mind; it’s 35 dollars. So, he takes me to the hospital, and he pays. I have two daughters-in-law. They came to visit me in the hospital. Frank, didn’t know what to do for me. They were so good, so good to me. They went back to the restaurant to make lunch for me. They wanted to make it there, to put this in it, that in it. I couldn’t eat. I was very sick. So, I’ll never forget Sylvia says, ‘Mother, you wait to get sick to prove to yourself what kind of friends you’ve got in the family.’ She says, ‘Some husband.’ He wasn’t the kind of husband for kissing. You know he didn’t show those... emotions, but in his heart you know he was a devoted man. So two weeks were over, Frank takes me home. Remember the pains? He used to carry me on the bed? Up and down the steps.

VACATION

PLAYING CARDS

Dora Shooster - Frank says, ‘The women are going to go to Atlantic City, Mrs. Zussman is gonna drive you. If she wants to get paid, pay her. Go away for a day.’ So, I says, ‘All right. Me and Mrs. Charles and Mrs. Zussman.’ Mrs. Zussman had two sisters. They came from Russia. So we go to Atlantic City and just as soon as we passed Camden the axle broke. We have to pay $5 a piece for a new one. They had to tow us in. She takes $5 from each of us. We all figure out she is going to make $25 from us. So we go out to the station, and we are told. It will cost you $18. $18! What are we gonna do? I’ll call Boruch. So, Boruch comes out to the station in Camden. She fixes the axle, and after Boruch comes, it was 4 p.m. We didn’t get to Atlantic City, but it was fun. Everybody had lunch, and Mrs. Charles was so nice, she treated.

Dora Shooster - Mrs. Zussman took me over to meet Mrs. Goldberg and introduced me to Mrs. Noblock. They teach me how to play cards. We are gonna play poker. And Mrs. Zussman she teaches me how to play on a Friday night. I played about eight games of cards, and I didn’t know if a full house is bigger than a straight. So, finally, I got a full house. She says a straight is bigger. So, she takes the money. Maybe it was half a dollar. I go out to the store, and I’ll never forget I said, ‘Mr. Goldberg, I have to ask you, what’s bigger in poker? A full house or straight?’ He says, ‘A full house.’ I says, ‘Mrs. Zussman just took a game away from me. I had a full house, but she had a straight.’ I said, ‘Mrs. Zussman, that game you took away, it didn’t belong to you because Goldberg just told me. You knew it, you knew it. You’re a gambler from olden time. I just learned a game.’ She says, ‘So what do you want me to do? You want me to give you back your money?’ I said, ‘I just want you to know that I find out. That you’re not straight!’ When we usta play on a Friday night, and Pop usta knew it and he didn’t want me to miss it, and I had the store. Frank said, ‘Dora, you have to go to the game. I don’t care how much customers are gonna come in Friday night. Don’t leave ‘til nine o’clock and I’ll see that the boys should come home.’ So, he usta send the boys home. Frank said to the boys, ‘Mother has to go away today, so you have to cover for her for a while.’ That game was in a different house every week. So, I says, ‘Mr. Zussman came for us. I says, Mr. Zussman, you leave me off at the station.’ So, I went to the station until we closed and Frank took me home. Oh, there is a lot of things to tell. This was life. Herman Shooster - That poker game went on for years and years.

Dora Shooster(49), 1943

Herman and Dora 1980

Dorothy, Frank, Dora Making Potatoe Latkes 1980

Dora Shooster 1970’s

Dora Shooster Cherry HIll, NJ - 1970’s

Dora Shooster, Son Izzy, Frank Shooster Walking Izzy down the aisle for his marriage.

FRANK SHOOSTER 1892 - 1950 The Son of a Shoemaker FineTailor Jewish Immigrant Entrepreneur Father of Three

Frank Shooster

Baruch and Sarah Shuster with son Benzy The Shoemaker - with wife and son. Łutsk, Russia date unknown (1910-1938)

Lutsk, Modern Day Ukraine

ŁUTSK

Timeline of Łutsk

1409 First Jews in the region 1569-1795 Poland /Lithuania 1796-1920 Russia (Czarist) 1921-1939 Poland (Progressive Democracy) 1939-1941 Russia (Soviet - Communist) 1942-1943 Germany (Nazi - Fascist) 1944-1990 Russia (Soviet - Communist) 1991- Ukraine (Democracy)

Various Names for Łutsk

Łuck Łutsk

Woosk

Frank Shooster

Dora Shooster

FRANK SHOOSTER: SEPT. 15, 1892 - MAR. 2, 1950

Herman Shooster - My father, Frank Shooster, was the son of Boruch (1860-1930) and Sara(1870-1942?) Shuster, a Jewish shoemaker and his wife, from the town of Łutsk (Woosk). I don’t know much about them. The best I can do is share a photo from the old country. (photo pg. 56) It is one of the only photos I have of them. The little I know about my father was told to me by my mother. She said around the age of 15 (1908) he left his home penniless and managed to make it to North America. 1915, he got married and opened a struggling business. Threadbare, he did tailoring while she cleaned sewed. They barely got by. Soon they had two boys, my brothers, Izzy and Harry. I came eight years later. By the time I came along things were settled down. In the early years, against the odds, they saved enough money to buy a small home, which they rented out. Then a few more. Mother was a staunch saver. THE CORPORATION

Frank Shooster (15-19?)

With little access to capital, immigrants could not get help from banks, they had to become self-reliant. My father created a small finance company with his associates for this reason. I knew of it as ‘The Corporation.’ He was elected president and remained in that position for his entire life. It started with about 30 members who each gave an initial $1 or $2. He helped many of his friends get started in business. By the 1930s my parents owned some cheap rental properties. When depression

descended upon us, my they almost lost everything, holding on by their fingernails. 1932, they miraculously scraped together enough money to buy a gas station. With this, they put my older brothers to work. A few years later they bought another gas station that happened to be on the very same block. Each station served a different route. One serviced east-west Pennsylvania to New Jersey route, and the other the north-south Philadelphia to Washington route. Between the two stations was an empty lot. He bought that lot and built an ice shed the size of an outhouse. It was the time before electric refrigeration. Everyone needed ice for their iceboxes every few days. Later, he tore down that ice house and built a small take-out restaurant. I worked there every day when I started high school. The food must have been good because, as the business grew the building became more elaborate. Leveraging our meager success, my father bought a piece of commercial property in another part of town. He built a couple of stores. That’s when he ran into big trouble. Approved for a two-story permit and strapped for cash he only built one story. The government refused to change the permit making it impossible to get a Certificate of Occupancy. It turned into a fiasco that almost bankrupted the family, leading to court appearances and newspaper articles. As the costs mounted, foreclosure notices loomed until the burden was beyond his ability. He lost the property. Then by a miracle of goodwill, he regained it again, with the help of a disabled associate whom he helped yers prior. That case worked itself all the way to the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania. My father never told me this story. It was only in my late years that we discovered newspaper clippings and learned what happened. He must have suffered greatly during those times. I can hardly imagine him as an immigrant, seeking justice in an American court, and not just any court, but The Supreme Court of Pennsylvania. When it was over, he won the case. Anti-Semitism was rampant in the early 1900s, reaching its highest point in history during World War II. We lived through the

almost total destruction of our race. Eventually, a count was determined, six million killed, half of world Jewry and most of our family in the old country. It would be years later before the term Holocaust was used to describe the magnitude of destruction. My father lived through cataclysmic times; two world wars punctuated his life. I discovered both of his draft cards. The one for WWI simply states his name and serial number, 1515. He was never called to action. After WWII, cars changed the American landscape, suburbs were created, superhighways were built and bridges replaced the ferries to cross back and forth from New Jersey. Seizing the opportunity, our restaurant gradually grew and pushed out the gas stations. It was the heyday of drive-ins and the beginning of Rock ‘n Roll. For his final act, my father built a dream home for mother. She cherished him and that place for the rest of her life. EARLY LIFE

Herman Shooster - Frank Shuster grew up in tzarist Russia. His father, the shoemaker, was very poor. Things were so bad there was little to eat. Childhood mortality was high. He had ten brothers and sisters, most died of famine. Life was harsh during those times for everyone, especially for Jews. Łutsk became part of the Soviet empire around the time my dad left. Today, it is located in the Ukraine. If you’re looking at a map, you can find Łutsk in the district of Łutsk Raion, within the larger province of Volyn Oblast. It is situated near a natural bend in the river Styr. A bend in a river is called a Łutsk; thus, the name of the town. Generations before my father was born, the Jewish people were attracted to Poland by The Statute of Kalisz. The express purpose of this proclamation was specifically to attract Jews to Poland with the promise of progressive legal and religious rights.

The Statute of Kalisz Examples: Any Jew may freely and securely walk or ride without any hindrance in our realm. They shall pay customary tolls just as other Christians do, and nothing else. If any of the Christians rashly and presumptuously jeers at their synagogues, such a Christian shall be required to pay and must pay to our Palatine their guardian two talents of pepper as punishment. No Christian is to accuse a Jew of blood libel. Jews are allowed to purchase any items, as well as to touch bread and other food. Those rights were lost when Russia conquered the region. Jews captured by Russia became part of what became known as The Pale of Settlement (1791-1917). They were trapped. It has been described as an open prison thousands of miles wide. Under oppressive laws, Jews were not allowed to travel deeper into Russia, nor were they permitted to leave. Many decided to leave anyway. The borders were so vast that they simply walked across. Frank Shuster, a child, was one of them. He joined a mass exodus. It led to Bremen, Germany. Large ships stood ready to take the refugees to the shores of America. For almost a thousand years, Jews settled

Łutzk or Łuck (pronounced Woosk or Wook)

Kohenim Symbol

all over Europe. Many ended up in the region stretching from Germany through Russia. They remained there long enough for a Jewish sect to form called the Ashkenazi and with it, a new language combining German, Polish, Russian, and Hebrew called Yiddish. My father’s primary language was Yiddish. He learned English in America but frequently inserted Yiddish phrases. To keep up with the news he read The Daily Forward, a Yiddish newspaper. This newspaper still exists today. The Jews are descended from the various tribes of Israel. There were twelve tribes. One of these tribes is called the Levites. When Moses ascended the mountain to receive the Ten Commandments eleven of the tribes built a golden calf to worship, something expressly forbidden by the religion. One tribe refused to waver from their faith, the Levites, and because of this, they were thought to be more pious. From that point forward, the High Priests of Judaism were always chosen from the tribe of Levites. These priests were called Kohens, sometimes referred to as Cohens in America. My father and his father before him were all Kohens, making me and my male children Kohens as well. A Jewish community was established in Łutsk during the 6th century. One of those records stated a Jewish man leased the customs house that charged boats passing the bend in the river. Always considered outsiders, the Jews suffered in many ways; the worst were random pogroms (deadly riots).

In 1626, the Jewish quarter of Łutsk formally requested to build a stone synagogue. It was granted by Sigismund III of Poland. The agreement stipulated that the new building must also act as a fortress with a parapet and cannons on its roof. It still stands today. The fortress synagogue of Łutsk was tested in 1648 during the Khmelnytskyi Uprising. During that pogram, approximately 400 Jews sought refuge in the temple. They were overcome, resulting in calamity. One year later the census showed the population of Jews in the town plummeted to 32. It is hard to know what happened to the rest. One written account claims that half were killed, and the rest fled. This seems plausible because a couple of years later the 1652 census rebounded to 242, just over half.

The population expanded again, with the 1765 census reporting 1,842. In 1802, Russian Imperial legislation evicted the Jews from the surrounding villages and drove them into cities. Łutsk swelled to 5,010 Jews by 1847, 60% of the population, reaching 9,468 by 1897. At its peak, 1937, there were 15,879 Jewish residents. When the Nazis arrived they reduced Łutsk to a ghetto and destroyed it.

Benzy Shuster with unknown and unknown couple.

FAMILY NAME

Łutsk was a hub of merchant activity, earning a reputation for tailoring, shoe-making, and fur dressing. This is where our surname comes from. Naming children as we do today with the last name of the father was not the case in the old country. Instead, they switched every other child to have the surname of the father’s on the firstborn and then the mother’s on the next. Coupled with the language differences including Russian, Ukrainian, Polish, Yiddish, German and French, the history of our family becomes jumbled in obscurity. Within a few years of leaving, World War I exploded on the scene, and tzarist Russia threw off the yoke of its monarchy to become the Soviet nation and a communist state. Meanwhile, the Germans were leaning towards a fascist - racist ideology. A political powder keg was brewing on both sides of democratic Poland. [Yiddish Civilization by Paul Kriwaczek] Before these nations collided, Łutsk had a resurgence of liberal policies. In 1921, it replaced tzarist Russian ideology with Polish democracy. To give you an idea of what this meant, a Jewish man from Łutsk, Lazarz Dal, was elected to The Polish Sejm (congress), and held one of the highest offices in the national government. [Jewishgen.com] A progressive town, Łutsk boasted its own Jewish newspaper, The Voliner Press. It was written in Yiddish.

Synagogue of Lutsk Commemorative Plaque

BLITZKRIEG!

Blitzkrieg! Sept. 1, 1939. Nazi mechanized army crosses the Polish border in an overwhelming show of force. Aug. 23, 1939, 1 week prior, Germany completed a non-aggression pact with the Soviets. Sept. 17th, 1939, Soviets attacked Eastern Poland in a defensive move to counter the German’s and the Second Republic of Poland falls. In a twist of fate, 22,000 Polish soldiers, horse-bound, head into Russia for safety

Unknown with Frank Shooster Lutsk, Russia 1910?

From top left - Synagogue of Lutsk, interior with Bhima, architectural drawing, Star of David from building.

hoping to inspire them to fight against the Germans. Instead, the Russians execute them. (Katyn massacre). The Soviets quickly annex Volhynia region capturing our family along the way. Łutsk town’s leaders are arrested, and sent to Siberia. Many died in transit. As odd as it might sound, sending these people far away may have also saved some of them from the atrocities of the looming war. June 25th, 1941, Hitler double-crossed the Soviets and attacked Russia. That is how the town of Łutsk fell into the hands of the Nazis. Most of the Jews fled ahead of their arrival. Of the ones who remained, 3,000 were killed within days, and the rest were corralled into a ghetto. September, 1942, that ghetto swelled to 25,000. The lucky ones were used for slave labor.

December 12th, 1942, all hope was lost. Orders were executed to liquidate the ghetto. During the annihilation, 500 ghetto dwellers took up arms against the Nazis. The fighting was so heated that artillery was brought in to suppress the resistance. February 1944, the Soviets liberate Łutsk, a mere shadow of its Jewish residents returned. The fortified temple was turned into a movie theater and later into a sports hall. The Jewish cemetery was desecrated by the building of a residential area directly over the graves. 1959, Jews clung to Łutsk, population 600 and in 1989, 1,000. In 1989, almost all of them left, emigrating en masse to Israel; 160 elderly were left behind and died out. And so a region full of Yiddish culture for almost 700 years, was left only with remnants and stories today.

Shuster, the shoemaker of Łutsk. He traveled a distance similar to a trip from New York to Philadelphia; however, there were no trains within 100 miles of Tuchin, so ostensibly he made this trek by a horse-drawn cart. Her father wrote a 2nd letter. ‘Your father-in-law is a poor shoemaker. He had many children, but only three are left. Two moved to America, and one remained. The one who stayed is Benzy. He is married with children, living near his parents. The others died at early ages. You should be proud of your father-in-law. He is very pious and has a good seat in the synagogue. Notable in that letter was the following: ‘Just because your father-in-law is a shoemaker, it doesn’t mean a thing because he is a very intelligent man and they give him a lot of respect in the schul.’ THE SHOEMAKER’S SON “The Shoemaker” Painting of Baruch Shuster Concept by Stephen Shooster 2017

THE SHOEMAKER

Herman Shooster - In a letter to her father, mother announced she was engaged to Frank Shooster, a tailor, the son of a shoemaker from Łutsk. I found it odd that she wrote to her father since she said he was very harsh to her and one of the main reasons she left Russia. Upon asking her about this, she said, “I still wanted to think I had a family.” Dora’s father wrote, he was ashamed his daughter was marrying a tailor, and he decided to make a trip to meet the boy’s father. To satisfy his honor, Mikel Chumot, the small grocer of Tuchyn, made the journey to meet Baruch

Dora Shooster - In the old country, Frank’s father made a deal with a tailor he knew from the schul to teach his son a trade. He told the tailor, ‘Maybe my son can learn a trade. He will wash your floors, clean up for you, run your errands, and do all those things for you. In the meantime, maybe you could show him how to use the machine to sew something. You’ll have to feed him. The main thing, we don’t have enough to feed him.’ At the time there was no such thing as ready-made clothing. EveryJewish Shoemaker in Lithuania one had to visit by Hermann Struck - Das Ostjudische Antliz a tailor.

Unknown Russian Passport - Shooster family archive

Frank went to live and work with the tailor at the age of ten. He started as an errand boy. Whatever they were doing, he was able to do. And when the tailor got busy for the holidays, he was shown how to sew buttons. It wasn’t exactly tailoring, but it was a start. The tailor did not give him enough to eat. So, every so often Frank used to go home and look around if he could find a piece of bread. His father understood his hunger. So, came down to the kitchen to find stale bread two or three weeks old, and made him a cup of tea. Just so the hunger wouldn’t drive him crazy.

Herman Shooster - An apprenticeship was the normal way one learned a trade in the old country. My father became very adept at tailoring. I have seen his work; it was exquisite. He made all the clothing I wore as a boy. My mother told us how my father was forced to leave Russia. Trying to find himself, Frank asked a simple question, “Am I miserable because I am Jewish or because I am poor?” A secret meeting was scheduled to discuss a new form of government, communism. Frank was a teenager. Circulars were printed to raise awareness and inspire people to join. Actions against the Tzar were serious acts of sedition punishable by jail and death.

So, who do they use to send out the circulars? Young boys like Frank. As he was giving out circulars the police noticed and chased after him. He escaped They knew he was the son of Baruch, the shoemaker, and went to his father’s home. His father told the police nothing. While the police were questioning his father, Frank was just above them, hiding in the rafters of the roof. His father, worried with fear, acted quickly, but there was little he could do. He was very poor. The only thing he had left of value was the pillow on his bed. He pawned it for 5 rubles and gave these last few coins to his son, saying, “You must run away as far as you can.” He never saw his father again. To earn his way, Frank went from store to store carrying packages just so they should give him something to eat. He used to hop on the back of trains at night to go to the next town. The conductor didn’t even know that he was onboard. Eventually, he made it to the coast of northern Germany. He was following the path of the Jewish refugees. The path led to the great transatlantic ships berthed at the port city of Bremen, Germany. With little money, he must have pleaded with the ship’s captains to work for passage. Somehow, it worked out, and Frank crossed the Atlantic, arriving in 1908. The ship’s manifest states his name as Frank Shuster.

A Happy New Year. Hebrew Publishing Company, between 1900 and 1920. Offset color lithograph postcard. Alfred and Elizabeth Bendiner Collection. Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress

THE DOUBLE ‘OO’ IN SHOOSTER

Close-up of 1910 Census Frank Shuster living with his sister, her husband and kids. Shuster, Frank, Brother in law, age 20, single, from Russia

Cose-up 1920 Census Frank Shooster, Head of houshold, age 27, Dora 27, and kids Note the ‘oo’ in Shooster

Frank Shooster Dora Shooster Cose-up to Right, 1920 Census Frank Shooster, Head of houshold, age 27, Dora 27, and kids Note VFrank Shooster’s place of birth.

Stephen Shooster - Our family name comes from an edict in the 1850s requiring all Jews to have last names. The reason for this ruling was tax collection. Before the 1850s, Jews used names like Joseph Ben-David (Joseph son of David). It was a village mentality. Most people lived and died near their birthplaces making last names unimportant. Once the government required second names, vocations were a practical choice; thus, Baruch, the shoemaker, becomes Baruch Shuster.

Once Frank was in the United States, somehow the spelling of our family name became rather unique. I have seen it spelled Shuster, Schuster, Szuster, and in a few rare cases, Shooster. We have no idea why it ended up being spelled with a double ‘OO’. I have found an early census showing the name as Shuster and a later one where the script could be interrupted as a lazy ‘U’ or a double ‘O’. 65

Mary Shuster Lesnik, Israel Lesnik and kids Morris, Harry and Reuben.

TANTA MARY (1885 - 1978)

In 1905, Miriam Shuster (1886-1978), arrived in America a few years before her brother. By the time he arrived, she was married to Israel Lesnick (1885-1911) and they had three boys: Morris (1904); Harry (1906); and Reuben (1908). They lived on the third floor of a simple apartment in a poor neighborhood, 210 Fulton Street, Philadelphia. Her husband worked in a clothing factory as a presser. A presser uses a large ironing machine to give clothing a fine line and clean appearance. 1908, Frank Shuster (18) arrives in America, penniless. 1910, the census shows Frank Shuster (20), single, living with his sister. His occupation is listed as a baster [bāst-er]. A baster is a person that stitches fabric together loosely before cutting. 1911, Mary has a fourth child, a baby girl, named Rose. the same year, her husband, Isreal(26), dies of an internal obstruction. Dora Shooster - Mary was left with four children and not one dollar. Frank was making $10 a week. It wasn’t much for six people. He had to help his sister and their children. He needed to earn more money so he started a business cleaning clothing. He found a location at 19th and Madison and told the owner how poor they were in the hope they would sympathize with him. It worked. That’s how he started his first business in America. Mary, taking care of four small kids also helped as she could making $5 a week sewing sweaters. Frank, started to meet girls. Mary told him ‘I don’t want to slave you up for the rest of your life. You have a life of your own, and I want you to go on with your life. We will manage somehow. They struggled. Frank kept them clothed and fed.

Mary decided to move near the factories and its workers to make it possible for her kids to hawk them to buy anything for some coins. She figured they could sell a little bit of pretzels and candy. That’s how it goes. Whenever they were short for rent Frank used to have to take his suits and go to the pawnshop, and pawn them. He would get $5 for a suit, give Rose $4, and keep a dollar for himself. They lived in a one-room house with no water; there was a spigot outside that she had to pump. That’s how they got by. The boys started to sell a little bit of candy and caught the attention of a man from the factory. The factory man asked the boys what they were doing. The boys told him their father died and they have nothing to live on. The factory man asked to meet their mom, and see where they lived. At the time the kids were sleeping in baskets. He was a Jewish man, but nobody knew he was Jewish, and he didn’t want to give himself up for a Jew. He wanted to help them. He was a wealthy man. He didn’t make a living for them, but he helped them a little at a time to get along. It was nothing romantic. Eventually, he helped her to buy an old Chevy. Then it became a little bit easier. The responsibility on Frank eased. He started dating. Mary wanted him to make a home for himself. She didn’t want him to sacrifice all his life for her and her children.

Mary’s kids - Rose, Reuben, Harry, and Morris Lesnik.

There was no help to go to in those years. You couldn’t get welfare. There wasn’t such a thing. No Social Security, no welfare, no stamps, nothing! Nowadays if this happens, the widow goes to the Jewish Federation, and the kids are protected until they can work. They send you a check every month. They take over. In the old days, they just starved to death. If you didn’t have it, then you didn’t have it. Mary and her kids survived. The children all made something for themselves. All three boys became professional men. They are not professional like doctors and lawyers, and they are not professional like they have big jobs, but they have jobs. Eventually, Mary pushed Frank out of the house instructing him to make a life for himself. Herman Shooster- I used to call Aunt Mary, Tanta Mary. She was a love. By the time I came along and grew old enough to appreciate her, most of these struggles had settled down. My father moved to Chester while she remained in Philadelphia. To me, a visit from Tanta always meant toys and presents. She

would travel to Chester fairly often using the public trolley cars if by land, or the Wilson Line, if by sea. Once in a while, she would take me back with her. If I were lucky, we would go back on the Wilson Line. Wow! What a treat! I loved her dearly. I spent all of my summer vacations at her home with her kids. Getting there was part of the fun. As I grew older, my parents sent me there on my own. I remember taking the elevated train part of the way, connecting with a trolley car, and walking about a half-mile. This was a welcome adventure for a little boy. Other times my parents would drive me. She lived on Almond Street in Southwest Philadelphia, a narrow street filled with row houses. They all looked the same. Each sported a white marble front step. Most of the homes in Philadelphia had this distinctive look. When thinking about summer, I knew I’d be playing in the street under an open fireplug om hot days and go to the movies at night. The walk to the Palm Theater was about a mile. After the movie, on the walk home sometimes she would buy me an ice cream cone.

Drawing by Rose Lesnik Mellor Herman and Dorothy at the table

Whenever I was with my Tanta, it was an adventure. Sometimes she took me to South Philadelphia where the pushcarts were lined up for endless blocks. Peddlers, mostly immigrants, were selling every conceivable thing that might just command a dollar or two. Those were great days. Breakfast at her home was spectacular. It seems like I could have eaten a dozen eggs! And for dinner, I could eat a half dozen ears of corn. Her children loved to have me around, too. They all called me ‘Doc,’ because I said I wanted to be a doctor. I would play checkers with Harry and Morris, but I could never beat them.

Rose Lesnik Mellor Daughter of Mary Shuster Lesnick

I was surrounded with love from Tanta and all her children. They were all much older than me. Morris was the oldest. He had hundreds of copies of National Geographic magazines. I used to spend hours on Connie Mack end leafing through them. He was single most of his life, but finally got married. Harry remained a bachelor all of his life. He worked for Consolidated Freight Forwarders as an expert on Bills of Lading while living with his mother. He was devoted to her, as were all of her children. An odd fellow, he never flew in a plane. If he went anywhere, it was always on the train. Growing up, I think their son, Ruby, was my favorite. He became a labor organizer in the ladies’ stocking trades. He took me to baseball games. We both loved baseball. We would see The Philadelphia Phillies play in Baker Bowl. At the time, it was just a fenced-in field on Broad Street with a single grandstand. Meanwhile, the A’s (Philadelphia Athletics), played at Shibe Park, known later as Connie Mack Stadium. Those were the days. I have loved baseball my entire life. I remember watching Connie Mack, the Phillies owner, and manager, in the dugout. He always dressed in a black suit with a tie around a collared shirt and a straw hat. It wouldn’t matter if it were the heat of the summer, he always wore this outfit. Ruby was married a couple of times. His widow, Agnes, lives in Philadelphia. She is in her late 90s. (As of this writing now over 100.) Rose became an artist who worked for a wallpaper company. She was divorced with no children. She also spent many years as a dance teacher. Late in life, she became virtually a recluse. I am very proud of the fact that I stayed in touch with her during those years. My weekly phone calls to her went on for years until her death.

Mr. and Mrs. Frank and Dora Shooster with Izzy and Harry apx. 1923

MR. AND MRS. FRANK SHOOSTER

1915, Frank and Dora Shooster were married in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. We do not have the marriage certificate. I hope it shows up. They set up house on Madison Street. A year later Isadore (Izzy) was born, then Harry (1917), and last Herman (1924). Dora Shooster - When I was at the hospital after giving birth to Harry, I told a friend that visited, ‘You must wait until feeding time because you never saw such a beautiful baby in your life.’ When the baby was brought to me, he looked completely changed. I was ashamed. Especially after the way I bragged about the beautiful baby I had. This baby didn’t look the same. I didn’t think they could give me the wrong one. My lady friend consoled me; Babies change from day-to-day, and that’s the way it is. The nurse ran over and told me; ‘I made a mistake. I brought you the wrong baby.’ I told Frank that after that if I ever have another baby, I’ll never have it in a hospital. My oldest son, Izzy was a little slow growing up. He didn’t walk for two years. He was a little slow, but he came out ok. Harry was an excellent worker. Everything he could eat. We use to call him the little slob. Haha. Anything he could eat. Just got to give him a clean table and food. So, then they started to go to school. Izzy was a left-hander. In those years, they tried to get him to switch to his right hand. He was also a member of the safety patrol. Mr. Shaw, the principal of the school, loved him. Even so, he gets left back a grade. Oy! I thought this was the end of me. I asked Mr. Shaw what happened. Laughing he said, ‘First of all, he is such a good safety guard that I wouldn’t want to change for another boy.’ I says, You never let me know on a paper he was failing. You never discussed leaving him back a grade with me. So I’m very disappointed. I know a lot of left-handed people, and they get along just the same.He graduated, thank G-d, he graduated in public school, and he goes to high school.

Harry and Izzy Shooster 1920

Izzy wearing his saftey patrol school outfit. Clothing by Frank Shooster

NOT A PENNY IN THE HOUSE

1917, Dora Shooster - Frank wanted a new overcoat to go to the assembly for Woodrow Wilson. I asked him how he is going to get a new overcoat because we didn’t have money. He told me that he has a roll of goods that he is going to pawn. The jacket cost $12. I came home, and Tanta Mary is there with all her children and my son, Izzy, and there isn’t a penny in the house, and nobody had Frigidaires. We would have a little hole in the ground in the basement, and when we wanted to keep something cold, we would put it there. Tanta Mary, ‘What are we going to cook?’ I went over to the shelf, and I found a halfpound of lima beans. We cooked the lima beans, and we bought a bread. That was our supper for the four children of Tanta Mary and us. We wanted to see if we could make a living there. In the meantime, it is another month, and we haven’t got any money to pay the rent. So, I go to my cousin’s. I walked from Third and Cambria ‘til all the way down to Goldie’s to ask them if they could lend me $20, and then perhaps the landlord could wait another month. Nobody would lend me $20 because they thought that I don’t have a G-d! That my G-d is already dead. [sic] Frank had something wrong with his head, terrible pains. He couldn’t take it. Frank use to tear himself apart. My cousin didn’t even ask me if I have 10 cents to go home by trolley car, which was a nickel at that time. When I got home, I said, ‘Frank, let’s put out a sign.’ The house was a corner house. When you walked from the Philadelphia train station, you had to go by my corner; Furnished Room for Rent. We buy a sign, and sure enough, a couple rings the bell. I showed them the room; It was $10 a month, all furnished. I made it beautiful. He said alright, he’ll take it. I felt that if the agent came for rent, I already had $10. It takes about an hour, and Frank sees that the couple goes down with their suitcase. I was so naive.

President Woodrow Wilson (1856-1924)

Frank told me, You don’t have a tenant anymore. He knew it, but I didn’t understand. Where was I wrong? I said, I gave them clean towels and made a lease with them. Frank, ‘They needed it for an hour, so...’ At that time, it was the First World War. We lived next door to the National Biscuit Company. I went in with the two little children and told them, ‘I just moved in. If you had anything to clean, press, or needs alteration bring it in, and I’ll be glad to do it, whatever I make. I’ll be glad to do it.’ He told me that they would accommodate me. Then he goes out to the factory and brings out cookies for the two children. It was 25 cents to press a suit in those days. From all that hardship that I went through, and it was good, bad, and worse, I saved. If I saved a quarter or a dollar, I saved $200. I thought ‘What would I do if something happened to Frank? I have nobody to turn to. Nobody has any pity for me. I must save.’ Herman Shooster - Mother was exceedingly careful with money. From their meager earnings, she managed to scrape together $600 in savings. She told no one about this money, not even her husband. My father truly was a very talented tailor, so they managed to get by. But as the days went by, he had a nagging yearning to be in his own business. The savings my mother collected made it possible.

1917, the British Government asked President Wilson to support the Balfour Declaration in sympathy with the Zionist movement. “‘I am moreover persuaded that the allied nations, with the fullest concurrence of our own Government and people are agreed that in Palestine shall be laid the foundations of a Jewish Commonwealth.”

- President Woodrow Wilson

He made this proclaimation against the advice his most trusted confidante, Col. Edward House, America’s first national security adviser. The U.S. was an extremely anti-Semitic country. Support for the Balfour Declaration was a very courageous act. Frank Shooster, Sr. was compelled to rally for the Wilson to ensure a safe haven for Jews around the world by backing a leader who was courageous enough to stand up to discrimination.

“The world must be safe for democracy.” - President Woodrow Wilson

April 15, 1917. Assembly at Independence Square, Philadelphia.

THE PARTNERSHIP

Dora Shooster - Mr. Ginsberg came to the house to see Frank. He said he lives with my brother in Chester. His wife was still in Europe. He says he would like to open up a cleaning and tailoring store in Chester, and my brother said it would be a good idea if he takes my husband in as a partner.’ Frank was the kind of a man, he never believed you could work for somebody else, or that you can get ahead if you work for somebody. ‘You got to be for yourself,’ Frank said. He used to teach the children like that. Frank comes into the kitchen, and he says, ‘What did you send him for, we haven’t got two pennies to rub. So how can I go to Chester, with what? If the man has $200 and I have $100, so we go.’ I said, ‘Well, I have $200.’ Frank said, ‘WOW! I wanted to buy a coat; I had to go pawn a piece of material.’ I told him laughing, ‘The coat wasn’t important. Remember when we were supposed to go to a wedding? You made me a suit; it didn’t have no buttons, but I didn’t touch this $200. I saved it for a rainy day because I had nobody to give me anything, G-d forbid if something happened to you.’ Now, I said, ‘I’ll tell you something, Frank. I know a little bit about Chester. I used to go there very often to see my brother. You have more chances in a little town. In a big town, you just get swallowed in like in a big ocean. When you are in a little town, you can get more acquainted; you can set yourself a name, people will know you are Mr. Shooster. I have a feeling that maybe we can do something there. So, here is the $200 and go with that man. Rent a store, and you will see how it’s going to go.’ Chester was considered to be a prosperous town. They used to make the ammunition in that area during the war years. So, Frank was sick, [headaches and worry] and he didn’t want to work for somebody else either, so he went to Chester. They made a store at 1905 West 3rd Street, doing cleaning and alterations.

He started taking in orders for suits. The partners paid their rent, and they used to bring home a few dollars, so I was satisfied. ‘Soon,’ Frank said, ‘We have to move, but there are no houses to get in Chester, even if you give a million dollars nobody built.’ There was prosperity in Chester, everybody worked. It was wartime, and everybody worked on ammunition. Ford was there too, but all the houses were taken. I went to my brother, Boruch. He lived in Trainer, the next town over. On the way, I noticed that the railroad built a line of houses. I went to look at them. I met a Polish man, Mr. Stich. He had a little store. ‘Who’s going to own these houses?’ He told me, ‘They belong to the railroad.’ He told me where the agent was to learn more. They are $12 a month. At that time, $12 was a big amount. Well, I’ll rent one room to a roomer, I thought, ‘maybe they will rent me a house. To make the deal, I said, ‘I’ll keep your house so you wouldn’t have to have any sample house. I’ll be the sample house for you.’ I had the dining room furniture, but I didn’t have anything for the living room. I had a brass bed and a bureau for the bedroom. It was enough. I fixed it up, and instead of putting some porch chairs on the porch I put it in the living room, and I made covers. It was always nice when they came in. They never I didn’t have anything.

Dora with Shelly or Laney, one of the twins. Harry and Ida’s kids. May 16, 1946

DISSOLVE THE PARTNERSHIP

Dora Shooster - When I got to Chester, I didn’t like Frank to be a partner with Ginsberg. Ginsberg was a single fellow, and he was young, and he was a bum, [sic] in plain English. And, I didn’t want my husband to be associated with a man like him. I told Frank it’s going to be either Ginsberg or me. I don’t want Ginsberg as a partner. Frank, ‘How can you do it?’ ‘Dissolve the partnership. You have two golden hands. Your success is in your hands. You are already in Chester. Tell Ginsberg you have to dissolve your partnership. If he wants to remain in the store, he could remain in the store. If not, you remain. You pay each other out with whatever expenses you have.’ Ginsberg, ‘I want to stay where I am. If you want to dissolve the partnership, you look for another place.’ So, Frank comes home one day on a big Monday morning with his big scissors. The big scissors that we have in our house. Frank, ‘Well Dora, you didn’t want me to be with Ginsberg,’ with a smile. He knew that I had the right idea. ‘Now we are going to look for an empty store.’ ‘Ginsberg didn’t ask you to sign that you wouldn’t open a store within so many blocks. Everybody likes you. Frank, go into Lindenburg, the Realtor, and ask him where you can get any little place.’ Lindenburg, ‘Right across the street there’s a baker shop. She doesn’t need all that stuff for a baker shop, so we’ll give her side for a bakery shop, and we’ll make a petition, and you’ll take the other half, and you’re in business. You buy a second-hand machine and a table, and you’re in business!’ Sure enough. That’s how we did it. And we started to do business. This created competition and a rift in the family. Ginsberg used to live with my brother, Baruch. Tanta Oodle, Baruch’s wife, used to take her son, Sam, out of school whenever Ginsberg had to go away because if the store was closed, the customer would go to Shooster’s.

Ginsberg didn’t stay there long, perhaps three years.,We remained and started to do a little business. Herman Shooster - I was told that Ginsberg had Communist leanings. This might be what my mother described as him being a bum. My dad had enough trouble with politics from the old world. I believe my father was inclined toward a more liberal view of the world like socialism, anyways, although, in truth, he never used that word. His actions, on the other hand, were entrepreneurial, which augers against the idea that he was a socialist. I think his liberal leanings probably account for my own feelings so many years later. It truly was a different time. By the way, this store was not across the street, it was next door. My father would never take a partner again. MORE COMPETITION

Dora Shooster - [Early on] We had a man working for us, Nick Moretti. I says, Frank, that boy is no good for you. Pop knew what I was saying because he saw him work across the street at the competition while he worked for us. So, he believed me. Everything Nick would do for us, I thought for certain if he collected a few dollars, a dollar would go in his pocket. It got worse when he moved in across the street. One day he decided he is going to work for himself. That week he bought a truck for collecting the weights [dirty laundry is called ‘the weights’]. This was a very real problem since he knew all our customers! As soon as Pop realized what was happening, he had to buy a truck, too. He gave it to our son, Izzy, and directed him to go around to all our customers before going to school. We figured Izzy would collecting weights (dirty laundry) from 7 AM- 9 AM, then go to high school and after school go again. The kids were used to hard work; they had to pitch in.

One day Izzy decided he wants to change his schedule around and doesn’t want to pick up in the morning. He thinks the truck should be his truck. Pop didn’t like it, so Izzy just quit high school. He was going to go whenever he pleases. So, he didn’t go to high school, Haha. You know that we didn’t put up a fight. He didn’t go to high school, so he didn’t go to high school. Later, Izzy took an intelligence test, and he won the biggest prize! Herman Shooster - A lot of people didn’t finish high school back then. Izzy attended Chester High for two years. It was not unusual in those days. The most important thing on everyone’s minds was just trying to make a living. Finishing high school was not a priority for anyone. From the day we could work, every one of us had to chip in. We knew no other way to earn our meager way. ISAAC SHOOSTER (MAY 30, 1921)

Herman Shooster - 1920, the census show my parents, both age 27, owned a tailor shop. They had two kids: Isadore, four and 6/12ths; Harry, three and 3/12ths years old. They also had two boarders: David King, 22, from New York; and John Ethridge, 22, from Mississippi; both machinists. It is hard to make out, but it also states Frank Shooster is not from Łutsk but Nyrssifbanie, Russia. We can’t find this on a map. Dora Shooster - “I would like to tell you about my life with kids. Izzy and Harry were about nine and seven years old at that time. We lived in Chester on 6th Street. I was pregnant and due to give birth at any time then. I had a few roomers. I got up Sunday morning; it was decoration day. I said, ‘Frank, today is the day, and what am I going to do with the boys if you go away? He told me that he had to go out and buy trimmings for the shop and that during the week he wouldn’t have a chance to do it.

Izzy, 11 years old, 1926

So, he went away, and I had close neighbors who were busy with their own company, getting ready for the holiday. I was ashamed to go out on the porch. In those days, women use to hide themselves when they were pregnant. Frank had to go to Philadelphia to buy the trimmings. He had to take a jitney and then a train, and it was quite a ride to get to Philadelphia. The neighbors were all busy having cook-outs, and I was ashamed to go outside. I jumped over the fence, and I told Izzy and Harry to stay right by the fence. I felt I was due then. I walked to my sister-in-law, Mrs. Emmett, and told her she would have to take care of my boys until Frank came back. It was about a three-block walk. I hopped on a jitney and went to the hospital. There was no telephone there either. I told the driver of the jitney, who now is a millionaire, Take me to the hospital as fast as you can! Perhaps I was even too late then. 77

Certificate of Death - Baby Shooster, May 30th 1921

He took me into the Chester hospital. The nurse was there, her name was Mrs. Smith. I told her, ‘Do not give me the third degree. Take me right to the delivery room.’ ‘No,’ she said, ‘It’s a holiday, and we’re too busy.’ There was an Oriental intern there, and he didn’t think I was quite ready. I remember pushing the button to get help later, and I remember being in the delivery room and hearing the doctor say, ‘Who shall we save, the mother or the child?’ I remember hearing them say, ‘Put ice in the baby’s mouth.’ The baby was born 10 lbs. I suffered terribly. I heard everything, but I couldn’t say anything. The process was too long with the delivery. While I was on the operating table, I heard my husband had called. He had a feeling I could be in the hospital. He came from Philadelphia that night. They told him, ‘Come right over. Your wife is very sick.’ We had to give the baby a name, ‘Isaac.’ We had to bury him like any grown-up person. Frank had to take him to the undertaker, buy a casket for him and bury him. I made a stone for him. He lays near his father now. I thought I would never have a baby again after that. But, something happened - another child, Herman.

HARRY GRADUATES HIGH SCHOOL

Dora Shooster - Harry finished high school, and we couldn’t send him to college. So, he’s gonna go work at the gas stations. By this time we owned a gas station. He’s gonna work with his father. The principal came to me. I recognize him right away. He says, ‘I heard you’re not going to send Harry to college. Such a brilliant boy, he’s got golden hands.’ I says, ‘You know what I am. What should I do? Should I pawn my husband?’ I guess I didn’t have the money yet. It was before the stores, before this everything. So he said, ‘Always think that Harry is a brilliant boy. Whenever you talk to him, remind him it is never too late.’ Harry never went to college. Thank G-d he worked very hard. He used to work in the automotive pit, grease the cars, and replace tires.” Harry Shooster

NO MONEY

Dora Shooster - Going back to the beginning of our marriage [1915], a cousin of mine came to order a suit on a Saturday. Dobke’s man, he called me Dobke, from the old country. He said, ‘Dobke, why did you give me to eat, and you’re not eating?’ [sic] I didn’t have enough food, but I said I was not hungry. He didn’t believe me. When I went to the butcher, I asked for half a pound of meat. He told me to buy a pound, and he would trust me for the difference. I wouldn’t do it. But I lived. I made myself an egg and a glass of tea. I was healthy as anything. We struggled. There was very little money. Sometimes we didn’t have the rent. I rented my bedroom to a nice person, she was a drunken woman. She liked her drink. She used to pay me $12 a week; it was a lot of money.

Boys in Hebrew School Oil on Canvas, by Harry Shooster, circa 1940.

We took off one of the interior doors, put it in the kitchen on a couple of chairs. Izzy and Harry were babies. I didn’t have a carriage, just two little clothes baskets. I put them in the baskets, and we slept together. We didn’t have money for coal. Pop used to go to the railroad tracks, and gather a bucket or two of coal that fell off the trains. When we had a little bit of money, Frank invested as much as he could. He bought a rental house and then another. I didn’t demand anything. He saw then that the boys were coming out of school soon and what was he going to do with them. He didn’t have any money to send them to college. Mr. Lindenburg, the Realtor, loved Pop. He told us that Mr. Ostrow wanted to sell his house for $6,000. The place where Pop worked was getting too small for us. We gave Mr. Lindenburg a $200 deposit on the property. It was a house and a store combined. We needed another $200 to make the settlement. Pop said, ‘Your brother, Benzy belonged to a corporation where we might be able to borrow the other $200 and pay it back.’ Which is what we did. When we bought the house Frank’s uncle from Canada was in town. He told a carpenter to make us three rooms from the two rooms downstairs. He suggested to Pop to pay him out a little money at a time for his labor. He built us a beautiful front for our store. Rabbi Unionman would try and teach our two little boys. My uncle was impressed that I followed the Jewish tradition. The Rabbi told Frank, ‘If you don’t have $20 to give him at that time, then you give him $10. But, you are a tailor, and you should do this rebuilding to your house. My uncle told Frank that he was a big businessman and that he should listen to him. He was a millionaire. So, Mr. Meade measured everything out and built me a living room, dining room, kitchen, and a summer kitchen with beautiful windows.

Mr. Lindenburg encouraged Pop to buy more real estate. He told Pop to buy Mr. Montgomery’s house, for $500. He suggested that Pop borrow $100 in The Corporation and buy this house. Then Pop got acquainted with Mr. McDevitt and the corner where we had our station. Pop bought this piece of property on 9th Street if they would give us a deed that the other corners that were all empty at that time so they could not be sold for a gas station. They gave us that deed. Mr. McDevitt was the Realtor in this sale. We were the only gas station at that time. Herman Shooster - We lived at 1904 West 3rd Street, with the tailor shop in the front of the house for at least the next 18 years. My parents learned to live frugally, forced to be self-reliant. Sensing a need to grow financially, they started to buy real estate. With a very small budget, they bought small homes in poor neighborhoods. There were plenty of those in Chester. BIRTH CONTROL

Dora Shooster - I’m ashamed to tell this story. One day my sister-in-law comes in, and she says, ‘What shall I do, Mrs. Shooster? I’m pregnant again. Maybe you know something? I want to get rid of it. You know Benzy’s not making a living. I already have three children.’ So Frank heard, and said, ‘I’ll go into Moiger’s drugstore, and I’ll find you something.’ So, he went into Moiger’s drugstore; he didn’t give her anything for, he didn’t even ask him, he gave her something to take and lay down.[sic] She thought this was it. She was going to get rid of the baby. Haha. So she didn’t get rid of it, she kept on being pregnant until finally, she gave birth to a 7-pound baby. Frank said, ‘I took care of her. I made her comfortable. I gave her an aspirin.’ I check on them every day. I had two children myself. She struggled. Plenty struggle.

HELPING CASEY

BORN AT HOME

Dora Shooster - Casey was an infantile paralysis victim. His left side was paralyzed. He couldn’t move it. His mother died. His father had a grocery store. He didn’t know what to do with his son. We didn’t know him so much then. His father put him into a real estate office. When Frank started to buy a few houses, he was put into connection with a few real estate people. This is how Frank knew Casey. Frank knew he was incapable on that one arm, but he had a good head on his shoulders. So, Frank, whatever little bit of deals he did he brought Casey in, saying, ‘Let Casey make a dollar.’ It was very nice. So one day Casey comes into town to Frank, who was in the gas business by that time. He says, ‘Frank, what am I going to do now?’ He worked for American people, and they fired him. Fired him off the job. Frank, ‘Don’t worry, Casey, I’m still alive. I ain’t going to let you down.’ Casey, ‘What are you going to do for me?’ Frank, ‘I’ll go down to my lawyers on Ulster Street, and I’ll rent you a desk space, space enough for a desk and chair.’ And they go down, and they buy a chair, and a couple of chairs and a desk and he is back in business. And I’ll right away take you to the schul and get a lot of clients and give them to you. Frank, ‘Since I’m President of The Corporation, if we need money, we’ll get interest on this, and this, and this, and little-by-little you’ll become a real estate man.’ ‘You’ll put out a sign, Houses for Sale.’ He didn’t have a family. He was a Catholic boy. He couldn’t just marry anybody. And that’s how Frank put Casey to business.’ It worked out and for about 18 years he was married to a very drunk girl. Being Catholic, he couldn’t get divorced. He lost out in that respect, got disgusted, and became a drunk and an alcoholic himself.’

Dora Shooster - We lived for years next to a neighbor named Rosenblatt. She had eleven children. One of her daughters, Eunice, was supposed to get married. Mrs. Rosenblatt said, ‘Mrs. Shooster, could you help me out with the cooking of the roasts and the chickens for the wedding? One oven isn’t enough.’ I told Mrs. Rosenblatt, ‘I will do everything I can to help out.’ I promised her. In the meantime, I became pregnant, and I wanted to get rid of it. I done everything to get rid of it. The doctor told me to come to see him on a Friday. I remembered that Eunice gets married that Sunday and how could I disappoint Mrs. Rossinblatt when she depended on me? So, I thought, I would wait another few days for myself and I didn’t go to the doctor. Instead, I helped my neighbor stuff chickens and make a goose. I helped her with everything. We were invited to the wedding. The wedding was in the schul. While Mr. and Mrs. Rossinblatt took Eunice to the altar, I turned to Frank and said, “If I would know that I would have a daughter, I would let myself go. Frank told me, ‘Give yourself a chance.’ Izzy was about nine years old; It was a Centennial at that time. Herman was born after midnight on a Friday. It was officially Saturday morning. That is why his birthday is on the 29th of November instead of the 28th. When I was pregnant with Herman, we had worked ourselves up a little bit financially, and Pop hand-made me a beautiful maternity dress. Herman Shooster - After the mishap at the last hospital, my mother wasn’t taking chances anymore. I was born at home, upstairs, in the living quarters, on Nov. 29, 1924, just after the clock turned midnight on the 28th. For the next 18 years of my childhood, we lived in that house. 1930, census reports the home value as $15,000, and also states we own a radio. [$233,958 in 2021]

Dora Shooster

Frank Shooster, Sr.

BUILDING A PROPERTY BUSINESS

Chester Times - January, 14th, 1926.

Deed Letter (excerpt) - October, 1929

Chester Times - September, 29th, 1927.

Chester Times - September, 10, 1938

Chester Times, Aug. 12, 1947

Chester Times Dec, 1948

Jan 18th, 1949 Chester Times

FOOLING AROUND Herman (7)

Dora Shooster - One day Herman (6) says to his friend Sonny, ‘When my mother comes around town, tell her I’m not here.’ So, Sonny was from a Jewish man, an ice-cream salesman. His mother, she didn’t have a husband, and Sonny came along, and this Jewish man supported all of them. She used to clean the movie theater, too, remember? So, I go in. I knock on the door. I says, ‘Sonny, where’s Herman? How come you’re here, and Herman is not?’ Sonny says, ‘I don’t know.’ I went home. I look at Rosenblatt’s; I asked his boyfriends. I started thinking somebody stole him. They had him under the bed. Herman was laying under the bed at Sonny’s. HERMAN AS A STUDENT

Dora Shooster- Herman was alright as a student. A kid, when he’s first starting has got to have some kind of help in the house. So, I had a neighbor help. I used to crochet for her so she should help him out, but it helped me out more. Whatever I could read, I learned from her. She used to come in and make the lessons with him, and whatever she didn’t finish I had to do it. So, I learned English. Now, I read, and I know what I am reading.

VARNISHING THE FLOOR

Dora Shooster - I took a vacation to Atlantic City for the day. So, I says, to Izzy and Harry, ‘When you come home you have to cut the grass and weed the garden.’ We had beautiful trees. ‘And Herman, you’re going to watch the furniture. Don’t let no boyfriends in here and everything should be just so.’ The boys said, ‘All right, mother, all right.’ I think as soon as I went away they started to say, ‘Yeah!’ It’s very easy to slide. They had the best time. Then they saw the mess they made. So Herman brought up furniture polish or at least that is what he thought he was bringing up. Oy, I come home. Oh, my G-d, it’s varnish, you can’t take it off! He varnished the furniture! So I called Frank, ‘You told me to go to Atlantic City and now...’ Herman Shooster - Not the furniture! The furniture I put something out of a bottle, a wax or something. I was trying to do something nice for her

“The corner of East 24th and Madison Street may seem understated, but it was the scene of one of the most impressive challenges of my father’s life.” - Herman Shooster

The Corner of East 24th Street and Madison, Map View 2015

Burman’s Pharmacy 1960s

The Corner of East 24th Street and Madison Street. Photo 2015

THE METTLE OF A MAN

Stephen Shooster - My father never told me this story. His father never told him. When I stumbled upon it in the interview tapes, I wasn’t really understanding that this is one of the key events in my grandfather’s life. I was flabbergasted to discover its truth. Today, with the help of the Internet and websites like Newspapers.com I was able to not only verify that Dora was telling a very earnest story, but that it must have been terribly difficult along the way. It is almost impossible for me to imagine my grandfather, a Jewish immigrant, involved in a case that went all the way to The Supreme Court of Pennsylvania while along the way almost destroying the economic base of our nascent family. It started in 1930. The depression took a strong hold upon America. My dad was 5-6 years old at the time. His dad was driving around Chester and discovered a small triangular block of land on Madison and 24th Street that he thought would make a great retail location for a couple of stores. He had a business a hunch and acted on it. TEARS DROP IN HIS SOUP

Dora Shooster - I want to tell the story about these stores. Frank went driving by on 24th street with the car. He did not know anybody on 24th street. There was a lot; there was a resting… what do you call it, with the trees, a little park? The house next door, the man had a little park. We didn’t have no money to go to a deal.” But, it came to his mind, Why can’t it be? He stopped the car, and he thought If I can buy that lot... if the man wants to sell it... if you had a store, you could place an American Store (Acme) on it and next door an A&P grocery store together. Frank didn’t even come home. He went right to the real estate office for Acme. Can I see the man that takes care of real estate here? Baron was his name. He went to the real estate office, and he met Mr. Baron, and he tells him, ‘I think I have a good location for you. Can I take you to see it?’

The fellow agreed, and Frank brought him down to see the property. Mr. Baron, ‘Mr. Shooster, I think you have something here.’ Frank, ‘Could you pay rent on this store?’ Mr. Baron, ‘The best I could pay is $85 a month.’ [1,581 - 2021] Frank, ‘Before I buy the land, I want to have a lease from you. The lease is only going to be good if I send it back to you and if I sign it. If it works out, I’ll sign it.’ Mr. Baron, ‘All right, that’s a good idea, Mr. Shooster.’ He signed the lease! Frank still did not come home. He took that lease and went right away to the A&P grocery real estate office. He didn’t tell them nothing about the Acme lease. They took him up to the manager. He showed the manager the ground, then he took out the signed lease that he entered with the American Stores. They agreed on the spot too. So, he’s got both an American Store, and an A&P store lease in one early afternoon. With this in hand, he went to the bank to see how much money they could advance him. With a promise from the bank, he went to a builder to see if he had enough money to build what he wanted. The builder told him, ‘Yes. I could build you a store.’ Frank went to the owner. She was a widow. She also had a house in Middle Chester. She told Pop that she would like to sell the land, the house, and the corner. Frank agreed and signed the leases. The builder started to build the stores. He built beautiful stores. With the glass, everything, he had the permit. So, the man that lived in the house near the property Frank bought wanted the builder to buy the cinders (paving blocks) from him to make the pavement. The man gave him a price, but it didn’t suit the builder; he could get it cheaper. He bought them from somebody else.

Because of this, the neighbor made a petition that they don’t want the stores on 24th street. He was a big politician. All the neighbors signed that they wanted the stores at 24th and Madison to be taken off. You could imagine when we find that news out. So we took a big lawyer, Ranker, to fight that thing for four years. Every penny we made went to pay for the lawyers and the bank. Without the income from the property! Stephen Shooster - According to the Chester Times, there were two problems. The builder encroached upon public land a few inches and only built a one-story building instead of the permitted two. Frank asked the city for a permit change, but it was denied. This placed him in a bad position. He had to pay the bank for the building and the lawyer to help him with the city with no revenues. Our family was desperate. Harry, Izzy, and Frank pooled everything they had to make the payments, but it wasn’t enough. The costs kept mounting.

Dora Shooster continued - The new building stood vacant. Eventually, the property was foreclosed and sent to the Sheriff’s office for auction. We couldn’t pay the taxes. We couldn’t pay any more. I didn’t have nothing left to pay for it. So, the building has to go to a Sheriff’s sale. Herman was a little kid. Frank comes home that night, Friday night, with his head down. I had a habit whenever I saw that he was unhappy. I never bothered him until he gets through eating. I gave him his supper, and while he was eating his soup, I saw his tears drop into the soup. I thought, what can happen now? Frank, says, ‘You know who is going to buy that building tomorrow?’ I says, ‘What? Who?’ He says, ‘Savitzky.’ He says, ‘Savitzky was going to come there tomorrow. His son is the dentist; he’s gonna buy the property.’ Because all you had to have was money.

I says, ‘Don’t worry Frank. I’m going into Mrs. Savitsky; she happens to be a neighbor on 4th Street.’ I go to Mrs. Savitsky, but I didn’t have time to go in the house and be neighborly. I came by to ask her for a favor, but I didn’t have time to gossip around and talk about this one and that one. She was surprised to see me. I said, ‘Mrs. Savitzky tomorrow was supposed to be Yom Kippur. She was a very religious woman. Mrs. Savitzky, do you know why I came to see you? Tomorrow you’re gonna go to the synagogue, and you gonna ask G-d to forgive you.’ I’m choked up; I can’t even talk about how I felt. I says, ‘You’re going to go to the synagogue for all the things you and your family have done through the year. Tomorrow morning you’re gonna cut our throat. For what?’ I said, ‘The building has gone to the Sheriff, not because we robbed anybody, not because we done [sic] anything wrong and everybody in Chester knows it. I came to ask if you have a conscience, please stay away from it. Tell yourselves to stay away from it tomorrow morning.’ If you have to become richer, then you have become, don’t butt into that because our blood is laying there. So, she gave me the answer. ‘Mrs. Shooster, I didn’t know exactly the story. Now that I know it, if you want to give me that building as a present, I wouldn’t let my son go near it.’ Years prior, Frank helped a fellow named Casey who only had the use of one arm. Pop done an awful lot for him. Frank saw to it that he should go into business as a real estate man. So, Frank got him started, and he did well. This Casey never forgot Frank. He would cut his right arm for Frank. [Casey suffered from Infantile paralysis on his left side.] When Casey heard the trouble Frank was having at the 24th Street building he says, ‘Frank, don’t worry. I don’t have no money, but I have collateral stock. I’ll go in tomorrow morning, and we will use the stock to secure the building.’ [Pop got the building back with Casey’s help.] Four years later, The Supreme Court of Pennsylvania heard the case, and the judges made a decision, He decided that The City of

Chester was wrong and they have to pay Mr. Shooster all back rent that he lost plus legal fees. He continued to clarify by saying, “It’s the city’s job is to give a permit and the requester, Mr. Shooster, had every right to request a change to that permit. The city had no right to deny that change. After the ruling, the judge brought the opposing party up to his desk and said, Are you a Jew-hater? Once the Supreme Court ruling occurred Frank got the occupational license allowing the renters to move in, and everything seemed to be OK, at least for a couple of months. One of the renters was there only two months when his wife got him arrested. He got into trouble with another woman, and a lawyer advised him to leave everything alone, including not pay us the rent. His name was Schweter. So, the fellow runs away. So, we only got the payment from one store, but this store didn’t pay enough. Frank was only collecting half the money, which wasn’t enough money to carry the property. It took time to resolve. Finally, it was rented and stayed that way for the rest of my life. The kindhearted Mrs. Savitsky asked me [Dora] a favor. She said, “My son-in-law just finished being a druggist. I would like to rent the store from you for him.” And that is exactly what happened. That property Frank developing was shaped like a triangle with commercial renters facing the main street. This left a reasonable piece of land behind the triangular building. That is where he decided to the dream home he wanted to give his wife, using the back wall of the existing building. It was a beautiful home decorated to perfection, with highly lacquered cherry wood furniture and Harry’s painting of Boys in Hebrew School hanging prominently on the wall.

The Seal of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania

Justice Simpson of the State Supreme Court, yesterday handed down an opinion in the City vs. Frank Shooster matter, ruling in favor of the latter in the matter pertaining to erection of buildings at the intersection of Twenty-fourth, Madison streets and Sunnyside Avenue. Several months ago, Mr. Shooster, a resident of the West End, and owner of considerable real estate, made application for permit to erect a structure at the site specified, the plans calling for stores and apartments, the buildings to be two stories in height. When discovery was made that the builder was erecting one story buildings, City Building Inspector J.A. Devlin halted the work, claiming it was not in compliance with the permit granted. Shooster took appeal and the case was heard by the zoning board of appeals, which upheld the city government inspector. Shooster took an appeal and the case was heard by the zoning board of appeals, which upheld the city governemnt inspector. Shooster then took the case to the county courts and when the courts handed down a decision favoring the city, Shooster carried the case to the State Supreme Court. The decision by latter, as announced from Harrisburg, yesterday, permits Shooster to occupy of rent the one-story buildings, giving him the right, if he so wishes in the future, to add another story to the structures. Shooster’s claim at the time the dispute with the city originated, as his for not erecting two-story structures, was that he was not in position to finance the project. Supreme Court Ruling in the Shooster Case Jan. 6th 1932

CAREERS

bring meals to the children. They had nothing to eat. Dora Shooster - Mine son, We opened ShoostIzzy, got married, and he didn’t er’s Drive-In up on want to stay in the gas business. a Friday night, 1938 So, we got to buy him a busi(Herman was 13-14). ness. Mr. Shooster took him Harry was going and the find a taproom. Before around that time buying that taproom, he had to with Ethel, and Mr. agree that he will NEVER go Kohn, her father, was a under the bar. I don’t want my millionaire. They knew son behind the bar. You never that the restaurant is know it when they get drunk. going to be opened. The Tap Room was $28K. My friends Goldie Frank paid a few thousand and Nathan came, we dollars and got a loan for the didn’t have anything, rest. He thought Izzy will pay no furniture, no for the loan. When he came nothing, no table, we home, I told him, ‘I’m not satiscouldn’t afford to buy fied with that. You didn’t do Frank Shooster at Shooster’s Gas Station anything. We sat on enough to help our older boy.’ I sheets and had a picnic. says, ‘Some parents are strugHerman was a young boy. He was very gling to send their boys to college to make something out of their child, and you give him $20K handy and willing. If somebody goes by the restaurant and then comes down to the tailor to pay. When will he ever come to something?’ I says, ‘Tear up the note. We will struggle shop, I was told that when Herman waits on and get it paid. You would have to spend $20K to them, they eat twice as much! They used to educate him. You brought a son to this world; love him. They used to love him and leave a you have to see to it that you’re responsible for dollar. So we built that restaurant, and it made him.’ So, we wouldn’t go on vacation, and we out pretty good. A man that used to work for us, Ed Rosenwould do this or that, but we have to pay that thal, bought himself a trailer and used to ride note. I wanted to give him a clear title. Let him our grounds to steal customers away. go ahead and make a living. Around the same time, we decided Harry liked the gas business, and his wife didn’t care if he stayed in the gas business. So, he Herman is a young boy and he works so hard, stayed with us in the business, and he was very and it’s summertime. So, we sent him away on devoted, and he made a living. After Pop bought a week’s vacation. It cost $15, the whole week. the second gas station, which happened to be on We just let the boy have a little vacation. In the middle of that week we saw that the same block, he also bought the empty propimposition, Ed, stealing our customers and we erty between them and built an ice house on the got scared. We were worried. He had worked empty lot. Meanwhile, down the road, in Wilmington, for us. He prepared the syrup. We didn’t was a round restaurant called Spic ‘n Span. So, know-how. So, right away, Frank went to the my husband thought he has three boys. Each one camp where Herman was and he brought him is growing up. They didn’t go to college, and he home. He made the hamburgers on the grill, has to see to it that they should have something, and with the Frigidaire he made the syrup. And we stayed with the restaurant, and enough for the boys.” the gas station, and the tailor shop, so we had We hired George Nicoles, a carpenter, and father of 12 kids to build a similar restaurant. a little bit of money coming in. He lived on the corner near my friends. I used to

THE SHOOSTER BROTHERS

Izzy Shooster hold 70 lbs of ice.

Herman Shooster, Shooster’s Gas Station attendant

Harry Shooster sitting at his desk.

JUDIASM

Dora Shooster - I learned one thing in life that no matter how much you think you know a person you can never say that this is it. My husband was a very good-natured person to help somebody if they were in need. He would share the last penny, the last dollar if he had feelings for somebody. He wasn’t a religious man, but nobody can touch G-d for him, and nobody can question him because he was a Jew. He was honored with those two things, and yet he didn’t believe in praying. If you pray, someone is going to listen to you. He didn’t deny it. He wouldn’t like someone to make fun of it, but for himself, he didn’t go for that. So many yeshivas, so many Jewish institutions, somebody has to support them. Somebody has to pay their way. So there were men in big cities that they put up the yeshivas and the synagogues that the Jewish culture, the Jewish beliefs, should go on, or it should dry up. So they take all the children and teach them all those things, and they believe in G-d. So, when they send out the men to little towns like Chester and Wilmington, they go up to the Jewish people, and they talk to them to see how much they want to donate for that purpose, so Jewry shouldn’t die out, so it would be kept on for life. So they used to come to Frank, and when I used to see him coming now, there was nothing. We had almost no money. When I used to see them coming into the store I thought, they are coming to the wrong place. Myself, I used to see them, Frank was cutting up suits and working on the presser. The reason I saw them coming is I always like to see what customers were coming, window watching. And I see these Jewish men coming, and Pop had his last dollar in his pocket. I knew he was going to take it out and give it to these men. I don’t have any jewelry, I’m thinking, but they are thinking it’s got to be kept up. 92

Herman Holding Izzy’s Son, David Shooster Photo by Izadore Shooster Colorized by Stephen Shooster

Then when everything changed years later, he went away from the tailoring, and I was left with the store. These men died out, and another man died out, but they had the addresses where to go. So, they used to come to me, and I said, ‘Frank is not here, I have no idea about my street who can help you. He works at the station. So, he went to the station, and the boys would tell me, smiling, ‘He never refused anybody. If he had a cent in his pocket, he would give it to them.’ That’s the kind of man he was.

ATLANTIC CITY

Herman Shooster - Mother loved my father so much; words really can’t describe it. We all did. She tried to do anything to protect his health and to relieve him of the stresses of making a living. After all, they had no one, no one at all to fall back on. Mother could not even take a vacation with him. Instead, she tended the business while he got a break. Every year she made sure he spent some time at the beach alone. Dora Shooster - So, we got along. We had a car at that time. Something I always wanted to do was take care of Frank. I thought by doing so maybe he is going to live longer. So, I made up my mind with the boys. They will have to put the shoulder to the wheel, and we will have to see that Pop has to go away every summer at least for a month. Remember? I usta say, he needs to go away at least for a month, and it’s up to you boys to put yourself to him. Whatever you don’t know right now, learn. Take all the knowledge you can about the tires, when we are to buy them, and if you need anything. You have to send Pop away for a month.

Then I started to work on Frank. ‘Frank, you have to go away for a month. You can’t just work all the time like you do. You’re not too well.’ Frank says, ‘I’m alright. What do you want from me?’ He went away to Atlantic City for a month, for ten years. He paid a hundred and a quarter a week at The Breakers. It was a lot, a lot, of money for us. But every night we called up. No matter what reason we would have any trouble, we would never tell him. Everything is fine Frank, everything is wonderful. Herman Shooster - My dad actually stayed at a boarding house nearby The Breakers since it was too expensive to stay there. On the other hand, when Harry came to visit he stayed at The Breakers. One of Frank’s friends said to him, ‘Why does your son stay at The Breakers and you stay at the boarding house?’ Frank said, ‘I don’t have a rich father!’

The Breakers Hotel, Atlantic City, N.J., circa 1940

HARRY’S MARRIAGE PROPOSAL

Dora Shooster - The first son who met the first girl was Harry. We decided to send him on a week’s vacation to Camp Canada. He was going around with a girl, Ethal, a very wealthy girl. So, we were satisfied. One day her father, Mr. Kohn, said it didn’t suit him that his son-in-law-to-be worked at a gas station and went around in overalls. So, he comes down to us, and he says, ‘You know the children are in love? So, why can’t you do something for the children? Let them get married!’ So Frank says, ‘I’m not against it. Let them get married.’ Mr. Kohn says, ‘I’ll give $15,000, and you’ll give $10,000, and I have a company that would like to take him in. So he will be all dressed up, manage his...’ After all, he was a millionaire. One day, her father, Mr. Kohn, said, ‘I don’t want my son-in-law to go around in overalls and be a station attendant.’ So Frank didn’t tell him he didn’t have that kind of money. So, he says, ‘Mr. Kohn, I have the biggest respect for you, but my son is with me in the business, and if your daughter likes Harry, I have no objections. Don’t give him nothing and Ethel is going to live with us. She’ll stay with Harry and live in the room he’s got.’ TROUBLE IN THE CORPORATION

Dora Shooster - Frank was President of The Corporation. There was a Vice President and the rest. That corporation was hooked up very nicely. Frank was a very nice man, so he believed everybody. So years went on, he was President, by that time 25 years already. I’ll never forget it, he was a very sick man and had just been operated on at the hospital and who comes in? Abrahms, Lauw, about three or four people. The Vice President, Treasurer, etc., of The Corporation. 94

So, I’m thinking that the company has come to visit the President, Frank. I’m figuring the doctor is ok with this, too. Tomorrow they come in again. What happened? The man who kept the books, Rossin, his name was... So, one time they came to the President, my husband, Frank, and said, ‘Maybe we should have someone check the books and see if everything is accurate.’ It became bigger and bigger and bigger. It was multiple thousands already missing. But it’s everybody’s money. It’s not one man’s money. This man, being that he was Secretary of the books; he knew that he wasn’t watched. So, Rossin took out a thousand dollars and bet on the horses. He wasn’t a happy man. He married the wrong woman. He was just a very unhappy man. So, he looked for an outlet how to make himself happy, and he bet on the horses, and he lost thousands of dollars. So the next week the Secretary gives him a thousand dollars or ten thousand dollars. Whatever the Secretary gives him, that’s how much he deposits. Every week the people who borrowed money paid the interest and principal. Nobody watches each other. You know what I mean? Anyhow, he stole from The Corporation fifteen thousand dollars before they realized it. And now Rossin is on his death bed because he had consumption (TB). And it was brought to Frank’s attention. They got a new Secretary, and he finds out reading the books the money is missing. What the problem is? What happened to this money, that money? So, they came to Frank while he was in the hospital. If I’d have found out why they visited him, I would have chased them out. I wouldn’t want Frank to get aggravated. But, I didn’t know. I just thought they came to see the President. Anyhow, we brought Frank home, and a few weeks later then I found out what was going on.

Delaware County Finance Corporation April 26th, 1923

I called up one of them and said, ‘I don’t want no more meetings at my home. It wasn’t because Frank isn’t looking, why weren’t you looking your Vice President, Mr. Rock? Why didn’t your Treasurer and your so and so, why weren’t you looking? Why did you let it go to one man?’ Well, anyhow Rossin died, and each one of the members takes so much to make up the money lost. The neighbors who use it depended on it.

So, you’re a member of The Corporation, so you believe us. You believe me. So each one distributed so much to make up the loss and Frank was still President of that Corporation when he died. Now, there is nobody left. The Corporation broke up right away. And Lonnie is dead, Rossin is dead. Goldberg is dead, all gone. Herman Shooster - Mr. Rossin died shortly after Frank. Within a few months afterward, the Chester Times reported on September 28th, 1950, The Chester Progressive Club sued the Rossin family. The amount sought was $11,000. The club won the case. 95

The Wedding of Blanch Blatstein, Dec. 7th, 1947. Left to Right - Herman Shooster, Harry Shooster and his wife Ida, Harry Lesnik, Izzy Shooster and his wife Sylvia, Morris Lesnik, Ruby’s wife and Ruby Lesnik, Mary Lesnick. Front - Dora and Frank Shooster.

REFLECTIONS

Dora Shooster - And little-by-little, Mr. Shooster, was a wonderful, wonderful, businessman. He was always... that’s why I insisted he has got to go away for more thoughts and to be free. One month a year. That’s why I sent him to Atlantic City every year. I thought maybe I could save him… He died anyhow at 57. I couldn’t save him. But then, thank G-d, now when Harry is already in the building business, and he’s got an accountant, and when the accountant comes to the building, he says, ‘Harry, you know more than I know. You keep books that I want to learn from you.’ FRANK’S TEETH

Dora Shooster - Ay ya yah. [deep woefulness] That itself you could write a book, over 40 sets of teeth. Every dentist in Chester made him 2-3 sets of teeth. The man worked always on Shooster’s teeth.

One day, Frank was supposed to go on vacation in Saratoga. This was the beginning. But anyhow we are going to Saratoga. Every time I went, I went on account of him. I only wanted to save him. Save his life by giving him some time off. So Frank says, ‘We have to postpone. I have someone special to see.’ He didn’t tell; he had a machine in the shop that he used to shave his own teeth. A grinding wheel. He was always grinding his teeth. So, what was the man that ruined the vacation? Another dentist, Plafker. So he went to Plafker to make teeth, and Plafker’s teeth weren’t ready yet. Frank said, ‘I wanted the top and bottom all the same set of teeth. But before I took my teeth out, I had a gold cap on one tooth. So, I wanted to have the same appearance. So, I told the dentist to put the gold cap where I had one before so I wouldn’t look different. So, I was wearing the teeth, and I was satisfied.’ One day, not long, I lived here already, not long before he died, Frank says, ‘Dora, I’m bringing a dentist here, and I want you to get new teeth.’

‘What do you mean? What kind of new teeth. Why do I have to spend money?’ He got so much money already invested in teeth. He’s got a hundred sets of teeth, and I shouldn’t have two? So, the dentist comes here. He took an impression, and he made me teeth. I still got them. When he died, I called the dentist and said, ‘You remember all the thousands and thousands of dollars you took away from my husband to build teeth?’ He says, ‘Yeah.’ I said, ‘I’ll give them all back, and maybe you can make something out of it.’ A TESTAMENT TO FRANK SHOOSTER

Dora Shooster - When Frank died, and we had a new Rabbi in Chester, Rabbi Grossman, and he didn’t get acquainted with all the people in Chester yet. But I want to bury him from the house. Frank’s only idea was to give me a beautiful home. So, I wanted to bury him in that beautiful home. When the undertaker came and said, ‘What funeral parlor you have? This and this parlor he is going to be buried?’ So, I had him in the house. I wanted to bury him from this house. It was in March, and it was cool, it was still winter. This Rabbi Grossman came in to speak for Mr. Shooster, and he sees these two gentile men standing on the street of my yard. And he comes over to them and says, I’m Rabbi Grossman. I think I will speak to Mrs. Shooster alone. I am new here. I see you standing there. Do you have anything to tell me? I haven’t had a chance to meet Mrs. Shooster yet. It’s my first week in Chester. So, Casey speaks up, ‘Rabbi, you haven’t got enough words in you to express the goodness of Mr. Shooster’s heart.’ The other man says, ‘When I was laid off from the police force, I think it was 10 cents, gas already, I came over to Frank, and I say, I’m laid off from the police can you trust me for 5 dollars for gas?’ Frank asked me, ‘How come you’re laid off from the police?’ I told him, ‘Well they laid me off, and I don’t know what to do.’ He said, ‘You look around for a little grocery store, go ahead. Everybody has a little grocery store.’ I told him, ‘I haven’t got 2 pennies.’

Frank Shooster Sr. Candid photos

He said, ‘You don’t have to have... I own The Corporation. I’ll get you 200 dollars and you’ll pay us back. Your wife will stay with you in the business, and you will support your family. In the meantime, you’ll have food in the house. Listen, you do what I tell you.’ So, I became a grocery man now, and I’m worth a few thousand dollars. If it wouldn’t be for Frank, I would never have it. So, then when the Rabbi came in to say the last words, he told us you should have heard what this man Casey said, you couldn’t say enough about Frank Shooster, what he done, just from the goodness of his heart, nothing matters, he wasn’t sold for the dollar. And then the Undertaker closes the casket. He was sick. You can imagine how I felt. I was only living there for about a year. Frank Shooster was sick already. So, the Undertaker comes over and says, ‘Would it make you feel better, Mrs. Shooster if I give you five minutes alone?’ I was sitting in a chair and said, ‘Every little bit helps.’ And I wouldn’t see him again. So, I say, ‘Give me ten minutes.’

Every night he would come down and make plans, and he started to build a house. Every night I would also come down, and I would say, ‘Frank you know what I would like? I wouldn’t want you to make wooden frames … it’s a lot of upkeep, and I don’t like… you wipe up one window it’s much easier than...’ Frank says, ‘All right.’ The next night I would come down, and he would come to the bathrooms already. I says, ‘Frank, I would like yourself to make a sink where you wash yourself. You sit down on the sink (a bidet).’ Frank says, ‘What else?’ ‘I want to have a walk-in shower, and a door.’ Nobody had it those years. ‘And I want blue tile and red trim, and I want the bathtub should go curled. Ha, ha!’ He put everything on paper.

A DREAM HOME

Dora Shooster - My husband’s main ambition was to give me a nice home. He knew that I was just crazy about my home, not expensive, but nice. So, when he had a few dollars he made up his mind, he is going to build me a mansion. He is going to surprise me. By that time he was sick already. In the meantime, the younger boy, Herman, was in the army. Frank made me a surprise. It was beautiful, velvet walls, mit beautiful. He could have spent 10,000 dollars to furnish it. In those years, that’s a lot of money. Near the end of his life, Frank started to make a little money, and then, when he could afford it, to build. He decided to build a house. He came home, and he said, ‘I’m going to build you a house but under one understanding. I wanna live there. I wanna have that pleasure to make you a surprise. I want to build a house myself.’ So I said, ‘All right.’

Frank Shooster, Owner Alterations and Additions to Dwelling 124 East 25th Street. June 11th, 1947

The next night I come down, I says, ‘Frank, I hope we are not making a mistake. I’ve been thinking we are already too old.’ Frank said, ‘Really Dora? I already made plans for our old age, an apartment, but then came to my mind if I make a home Harry will move in with the two children. You worked so hard in your life I want to free you. I want you to have a little bit of easier life. Thank G-d, I have a dollar now. I’m not a millionaire; I want just to be me and you. Herman is not going to stay with us too long. He is going to be married.’ ‘I want to give you all the pain so you can decide.’ I said, ‘Frank, you’re still getting older. How about if you can find a way to make a place downstairs, it’s very important, G-d forbid me, or you will get sick, and you can’t climb the steps? What do you do then? A parlor downstairs is a big convenience.’

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Herman introduces himself to the owners of Dora’s old home. “This is the house my father built...”

Dora’s Dream Home Late 1940’s 101

Dora Shooster with her China 102

Frank Shooster

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HERMAN SHOOSTER GROWING UP

Herman Shooster 1941

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“We may not have had much money, but my world was full of the riches a young boy would easily happen upon in a small town.” - Herman Shooster

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Top to bottom, Izzy, Harry, and Herman Shooster

BORN INTO TOUGH TIMES

Herman Shooster - I was born in 1924. My Hebrew name is Zev Volof ben Pincas HaCohen. By the time I arrived, things were a little easier economically for my parents. It wouldn’t be long before they would get slapped back down by The Great Depression. By the age of 6, talk of the depression was a part of our everyday lives. I could not comprehend the concept of a depression, but as the years wore on, I could not help but hear about the tough times everyone was going through. My parents had a few meager sources of income in 1929. They started with a tailor and cleaning shop in 1915 and with limited access to capital a year before I was born, my father and his friends created a small finance company, and they elected him President. He retained that title his whole life. As my father struggled to build a business, most times just hanging on by his fingernails, mother, on the other hand, saved every penny. She knew there was no safety net for her or for us. If something happened to my father, she would end up with nothing. That was a powerful impetus for her scrimping and saving. When enough money was saved, she shared it with my surprised father, and they looked for investments. All they could afford were homes for poor people. Meanwhile, when the depression struck no one was buying clothing, and few could afford rent. Foreclosures loomed. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, (1933 - 1945) was tasked with getting the country back on its feet. Most people practically worshipped him. I found him an inspiring speaker. I remember his fireside chats on the radio. They were filled with down-to-earth advice. When Roosevelt took office, one out of four Americans were out of work. Some cities had as much as 50% unemployment. More than 9,000 banks closed. The resulting panic caused financial chaos. The first thing the new president did was to put the banks on holiday. Then he guaranteed them with the full faith of the United States government and reopened a little bit at a time.

Growing up there was no such thing as television, and no one could have ever imagined the Internet or cell phones. The only thing barely close to either of them was found in Science Fiction. We learned the news by reading newspapers and listening to scratchy AM radios. The radio was invented in 1895, and TV a few years after I was born, in 1927. They were both miracle inventions during my childhood. One way to get the country back on its feet was through government-sponsored work agencies. All of those agencies were referred to by their acronyms. There were so many of them that they were collectively called, The Alphabet Agencies. One of those agencies was the WPA (Works Progress Administration). I was taught that when a man could not get a job anywhere else, he could always go to work for the WPA. Often that work consisted of doing menial labor, and most of what they did was considered ‘make work.’ The WPA was derided by many. I overheard a man wasn’t much of a man if all he could do was work for the WPA. The Great Depression never did end on its own. Despite all the government programs, it took another war to pull the nation out, and when it did America roared back to life. I was just a kid. We may not have had much money, but my world was full of the riches a young boy would easily happen upon in a small town. My friends and I would prowl the streets like a pack of wolves. We never caused much damage. We rode our bikes, kicked tin cans, wandered out to the swamp, and played baseball. Whatever the group mentality the kids came up with that day is where you would find me. I knew every alley and every shortcut in my neighborhood. In the alley behind my home was a soda water factory called The Liberty Bottling Works. My friends and I used to get odd jobs over there. In return, they would give us free soda.

Work Progress Administration the WPA

“Our greatest primary task is to put people to work.” - Franklin D. Roosevelt First Inaugural Address March 4, 1933

A dilapidated building stood at one corner of my street. It had been a hotel in years past. The entire years of my youth it was left to rot. Of course, the kids in my neighborhood managed to find a way inside. Once, I heard somebody fell down the empty elevator shaft. To prove how rambunctious I was, I have a large scar on my thigh, evidence of when I carelessly jumped a fence and caught my leg on an exposed nail. I wore that scar on my leg for the rest of my life. 107

Frank Shooster, Tailor Our home was part of a row of storefront townhouses. It was a practical design making it possible for my dad to work at home. The address was 1904 West 3rd Street; it no longer exists. All the buildings on our street were torn down. When we lived there a plate glass window emblazoned with raised, gold lettering set in a half-circle proudly proclaimed, FRANK SHOOSTER, TAILOR. I have such sweet memories of that place. Pop would tend to the shop. I can see him clearly in my mind’s eye wearing his handsome vest. He always wore that vest while working, dressing impeccably. Each item he wore was a testament to his skill. One look at him and a customer would know what they might expect for themselves.

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Ida Shooster with Laney or Shelly in front of Frank Shooster’s Tailor Shop.

He would sit for hours with a tape measure draped around his shoulders churning away at the sewing machine; a white dress shirt peeked out from under his fine vest. Other times he used large shears to cut cloth. The fabric he used seemed superior to what I see in the stores today. At the far end of the tailor shop stood a door and just over the threshold were all the rooms I called home. They were lined up in a row just like a train: living room, dining room, kitchen, and caboose; the summer kitchen. Up the stairs on the second floor were four bedrooms, and one very busy bathroom, the only bathroom in the house. Below the ground level was the basement; its main adornment was a large coal heater. My father earned an excellent reputation. He had golden hands. I worshipped him. We all did. No matter what was on his mind, whenever I saw him, he wore a gentle smile on his face. I remember a dozen or more suits hanging partially finished waiting for the customer to come in for the next fitting. There was no such thing as ready-made clothing in those days. Everybody had to go to a tailor or dressmaker. Kids like to explore. I was no different. When I was little, I used to crawl around under my father’s large wooden work table, squeezing into tight spots. I continued fearlessly, knowing Pop would rescue me if I got in trouble. In the back of the tailor shop was a large, roll-top desk. I marveled at its many compartments. Shelves surrounded the perimeter of the store; they were used to hold bolts of fabric. Customers could walk around the shop touching and examining each of them. Pop’s foot would swing on the pedal of his sewing machine for hours on end. There was no such thing as an electric back then. In the opposite corner sitting alone and hissing stood a monster. It was a giant, metal, steaming machine. Every once in a while, it would eat a piece of clothing then regurgitate it, hissing pressed perfectly.

A traumatic event happened when I was nine years old. I was dawdling in the shop during a cold winter, and I found myself staring out through the plateglass front windows. My eye caught our neighbor’s daughter trying to cross the street. She must have been only six years old. I had a direct view of her as she peeked out from between some parked cars looking for a break in the traffic. She was alone. She tried and tried, each time sulking back behind the cars where drivers could not see her. Cars were coming along our street fairly often in those days. Impatiently, she darted across the street, only to be immediately struck by a driver that could not react in time. In that instance, she was knocked down and killed. I witnessed the death of Hinda Boobly. It was the 21st of September, 1933. When I visit my parents’ graves at the Ohev Shalom Cemetery near Chester, in Brookhaven, [320 E Brookhaven Rd, Brookhaven, PA 19015] I ponder that tragic day. Talking about the cemetery mother would say, “Ganz Chester,” meaning, ‘All of Chester.’ Notably, the cemetary land was donated by, The Shooster Family. When I was 12 years old, my father sat me down by the iron safe. We spoke for a minute; then he taught me the combination. I’ll never forget him saying, ‘I want you should know the combination to the safe just in case there is an emergency, and you might need a few dollars.’ He spoke in English with a Yiddish accent. At first, I rejected such an awesome responsibility, not that there was ever an appreciable sum of money in the safe. What a wonderful lesson of trust he taught me. Of course, I never took a dollar. Mother was a marvelous housekeeper. She loved to bake and cook. Our home was kept immaculate. She sang Jewish melodies while she worked. Her beautiful voice resonated with pride through each of us.

My Father earned a great reputation. He had golden hands. I literally worshipped him. We all did. - Herman Shooster Herman Shooster Age 7 Clothing by Frank Shooster

Over time, our house was furnished. Each piece was considered precious. Mother was so protective of her furniture that I wasn’t even allowed to sit on the parlor chairs or the sofa, which left nowhere to sit in the living room where the main entertainment of the house stood - our radio. Regardless, I often sneaked onto the couch hanging my legs over an arm to assuage my mother while listening to my evening shows for hours at a time. Those were the days before television. Laying there with my eyes unfocused, my imagination soared with thoughts of Jack Armstrong, The All-American Boy; Buck Rogers in The Twenty-First Century; The Lone Ranger; Amos and Andy; and more on the radio. Night after night I listened, 109 riveted as those stories unfolded.

The civic parade in Chester 1963.

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Mother was always working, if you didn’t find her cleaning or cooking, she would be in the basement washing clothes. In those days, a washing machine was an uncommon luxury. We certainly did not have one. She cleaned our clothes the old-fashioned way with a washtub and ribbed metal plate washboard. I remember the large blocks of harsh, yellow soap that she used. Cleaning clothing was not an easy job back then. There was never any ending to the cleaning mother could do. When the Jewish holidays approached every year, Mother would buy a live carp [gefilte fish] and let it swim around in that washtub in the basement until it was time to prepare it for the feast. When I sat at the table with that gefilte fish sitting on a plate in front of me, I felt revolted. I hated it for years. The busiest room in the house was the upstairs bathroom. In the hallway, across from the radiator, just outside the bathroom there was a step on the floor. That is where I sat and waited for my turn. It seemed to take an eternity. To while away the time, I stared at a 1939 N.Y. World’s Fair medal on a key chain that I hung on the knob of the radiator. My brother Izzy bought it for me.

The circus coming through Wilmington, Delaware, 1930.

Mother insisted I take a bath weekly. We never thought of nor were expected to wash every day. Those baths always left a ring of dirt around the tub, and I could never take a long bath because somebody was always waiting to use the bathroom. As a kid, I scratched a name on the back of the bathroom mirror leaving for all to see the girl I was in love with as a teenager, Evelyn Boyle. I guess this was my first infatuation. Her mother was Jewish, but her father was not. My mother was very prejudiced at mixed marriages and kept reminding me, but I was deeply, hopelessly in love with her at 13 years of age and didn’t give any thought to mother’s wishes. Funny thing, I never even spoke to Evelyn. I was just too shy and embarrassed to simply say hello.

High School crush - Evelyn Boyle

Soldiers marching down 3rd street in Chester during a civic parade. Unknown date.

Louis B. Lomax 1849 - 1934 Commander of Wilde Post, No. 29, Grand Army of the Republic Civil War Soldier participated in many civic parades in Chester.

THE KID

Herman Shooster - Growing up with two older brothers left little room to socialize with their friends. To them, I was just the kid. My big brother, Iz, was a very warm and friendly guy. Harry, on the other hand, was always a bit more annoyed by his little brother. In so many ways I felt like I was an only child. Harry used to pin all kinds of sports posters from the newspaper on the walls of his room. After he got married and moved out, I inherited that room. I took his stuff down and put up my own; A Chester High School pennant, and some newspaper clippings of my heroes, Babe Ruth, and Lou Gehrig. Izzy, meanwhile, never left our home as long as I lived there. His room was at the end of the hall. Money was always tight, so I’m sure living at home kept his expenses down. One of the most exciting events in my neighborhood was the Fourth of July parade. It went directly down 3rd Street right past my front door! I will never forget those parades. During one of them, I noticed it was led by a few old soldiers from the Civil War. Ponder that! [70 years prior] In 2013, we searched the Internet and found a newspaper article regarding those parades. That is how I learned the name of the Civil War soldier

who led those parades, Luis Lomax. He was from Marcus Hook, about two miles from Chester. Those parades were always full of excitement. Fire engines, marching bands, and veterans from all the wars, each in full uniform, marched through Chester. Full of fanfare, it was quite a thrilling spectacle for everyone. Civic parades weren’t the only excitement rolling down my usually quiet street. When the Barnum and Bailey Circus came to our town, they caused quite a ruckus, too. That is when I saw elephants as big as houses walking down the middle of my road, followed by colorful fancy trailers. The whole procession was flanked with circus people costumed and interacting with the people on the street. When the circus came to town, you couldn’t keep me away. I used to hang out there the whole day with my friends. I have no clue how I got in. I had no money, but I do recall seeing all the shows. I must have done a few odd jobs to earn admission. Those were the good ol’ days at their best. Most days were nothing like this. Winter was dreadfully cold and dreary. Sometimes the snowdrifts were stacked over my head. Huge walls of snow ended up flanking the sidewalks as the 111 winter drove on lasting for weeks.

Winter Scene, Painting by Rose Lesnik Mellor, Herman’s cousin. Collection of David and Donna Shooster.

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I vividly remember peering out of the upstairs dormer window during some of those cold nights. This window was slightly extended out from the wall, making it possible to see an expanded panorama of the street. The street was deathly still and desolate. Lonely lights hanging from their wooden telephone poles looked spooky as they rocked, creaking slightly back and forth. Not a soul was on the street. Now and then, a car would interrupt the silence and leave tracks that would disappear once the snow covered them. We paid particular attention to keeping the front door of our home clear of snow; it was kept clean right down to the concrete. We had to. In this way, we ensured customers we were opened for business while making sure we could get in and out of our home. If not, the snow would block the entrance. On the sidewalk, up against the front of the house, below the plate glass window, were large iron doors that laid flat on the sidewalk. These were opened when men delivered coal into our cellar. Our home was warmed by a coal-fired heater. Large, grated openings could be found on each of the two floors above the basement into the living areas, allowing the heat to rise and warm our home.

The winter was cold. We got some relief from that heater, but it took a long time for it to circulate. A coal heater also requires constant attention; it’s a messy enterprise. The residue needed to be cleaned frequently. We carried out the ashes stacked in baskets until a trash wagon came along and took them away. When my dad finally installed oil heat, it was a significant event for us. Oil leaves no residue. By the way, the same truck that delivered the coal in the winter to keep us warm delivered ice in the summer to keep our icebox cool. With the advent of oil heaters and electric refrigeration, those trucks vanished into history. Before the truck started to deliver ice in the summer, I remember hearing a man driving a horse and wagon yelling, “Ice!” We would have a sign in the window telling the driver how much we wanted for that day. Sometimes it was a ten-cent piece, others fifteen. One of our everyday chores was to empty the pan under the icebox where the ice melted. Meanwhile, In the back of the house, we had a detached garage with two floors. The first floor was the garage; the second was rented to a tenant. I came to think of our tenant as a good friend of the family; his name was Joe Story. I never knew much about Joe except that he was good-natured.

TIMELINE OF FRANK SHOOSTER SR.

1892 1909 1905 1909 1910

Born In Lutsk, Tsarist, Russia Many Siblings Die During Childhood. Apprenticed To A Tailor (Age 13) Chased Out Of Tzarist, Russia For Sedition Arrives In Philadelphia, Penniless With Baster As Declared Job. Age 20 1914 Engaged To Rose Engelman 1914 Wwi Begins [Age 23] 1915 Rose Engelman Dies Before Marriage 1915 Marries Dora Chomut / Goldstien 1915 Opens A Tailor Shop 1916 Izzy Is Born In Philadelphia 1917 Harry Is Born In Philadelphia 1918 Wwi Ends 1923 Established Delaware Finance Corp. And Declared Its President. [Providing Loans To Small Businesses.] 1924 Herman Is Born In Chester 1925 Shooster’s & Sons Incorporated 1926 Purchased A Small Home To Rent 1927 Purchased A 2nd Rental Home 1928 Joined West End Businessman’s Asso. 1929 The Stock Market Crashes 1930 Purchased Land At Madison And 24th Permit To Build Permit Change Denied Lost Appeal On Permit Change Property Foreclosed Casey Rescues The Property Won The Permit Change Case Supreme Court Of Pennsylvania 1932 Purchased A Gas Station 1934 Joined The Retail Gasoline Dealers Assc. 1936 Local Newspaper Marketing Test to Sell Real Estate 1937 Bought Second Gas Station 1938 Built An Ice House 1938 Built A Drive-In Restaurant 1939 WWII Begins 1942 Herman Joins the Army 1945 Wwii Ends - The Nuclear Age Begins 1947 Built Two Homes For Sale 1948 Plans Dora’s Dream Home 1948 Appeals Another Building Permit 1948 Herman Graduates Temple University 1949 Permit To Build Dora’s Dream Home 1949 Undergoes Prostate Surgery 1950 Died, March 2nd, 1:00 AM

MY PARENTS

Herman Shooster - My parents worked hard to make a living. They spent very little. By the late 1920’s they had three or four homes for rent, each worth about $1,500. To afford the properties, they borrowed from the bank. The Great Depression came along, and people could not pay for food or rent. Smalltime landlords like my parents got squeezed. They often had trouble paying their mortgages. Banks were foreclosing on the non-performing properties and boarding them up. My parents were in trouble; everyone was. Their property was scheduled for foreclosure. With the deadline looming and no one buying clothing or paying adequate rent, income everywhere dried up. Imagine scratching together everything they had after what they had already been through and losing it overnight. These were hard times, but my parents came from a world that was even harsher. They knew how to survive with the barest essentials. My mother recalled stories of cooking an onion for dinner just to have something on the stove. And now, living in this new land, there was no family to rely upon and few government social services. They were taking care of seven kids when the depression started, three of their own and four of my father’s sister, Tanta Mary. Somehow they found the courage to move ahead. I admire their strength and sacrifice immensely. My mother had chutzpah. Desperate to save their property from foreclosure she walked to the downtown Chester Bank and barged right into a meeting of the Board of Directors. In doing so, she told them rightly, in her broken Yiddish-English accent, “If you board up the property, people will break in and steal the plumbing and then the fixtures and even more. But if you give me a chance, I will walk miles to collect as much rent as I can.” The bankers, I am told, were so taken by my mother’s nerve that they decided to go along with her. She followed through on her promise walking a mile to collect 50 cents in rent. I see this same nerve with my daughter, Wendy, and maybe even some of my grandchildren. In time, the bankers were justified, and my parents paid off every cent.

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EARLY YEARS

My friends and I often took long hikes out into the countryside. We gave no thought to the distance when we started walking. Those hikes were always full of adventure. We picked punks and lit them to keep mosquitoes away, and we jumped from rock to rock with our knickers hanging down. When we passed the big foreboding house on Flower Hill, we stayed away because we knew it was haunted! Eventually, we crossed 9th Street all the way from 3rd and now we were really getting away from civilization.

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Herman and Prince, age 7-1/2 - 1931

Sometimes we would cross The Pennsylvania Railroad tracks. It was only a few blocks from my house. I would climb onto the embankments they were built on and then go under the rails to flirt with danger. I could get as close as a Punks foot below the rails while a train passed over. Imagine that! About a mile or so out we would cross The B & O Railroad tracks. Late at night, lying in bed, ten years old I could hear way off in the distance the wail of a B & O train whistle as it sped south. I always thought it was on its way to far-off exotic places like Florida. Florida seemed a million miles away to a little boy, a dream paradise. [this was in the 30’s air conditioning would not come to Florida until the 1950s. It would be years later it reaches most properties. Florida was hot and humid, a tropical paradise complete with mosquitoes.] Further out, we would come upon the quarry. As we approached, we would crawl on our bellies and peer over the drop-off all while exploring our fear. Backing away from the precipice, we would continue, eventually reaching Ridley Creek. Sometimes we would keep walking until we reached Chester Creek. On a hot day, we would take off our clothes and go swimming. Thinking back it seemed like we were a million miles from anywhere. The biggest danger back then was the older kids. We had to evade them, or they might have started a fight with us. Somehow, we always managed to get home without too many scratches. Mother always thought we were nearby playing ball or something. She would have been surprised to learn the truth.

Herman(9) with the Neighborhood Kids. (top right.) Apx. 1933

In those days it was common to see horseI often had a puppy dog; it was always a drawn wagons side-by-side with automobiles. mixed breed. Every one of them I called by In many ways, the horses were more reliable. the same name: Prince. It didn’t matter if the But soon the landscape of America changed dog was a boy or a girl; it was always Prince. with the popularity of cars. To give you an Mother would usually try to get rid of them idea of how fast the world was changing, right because of the mess they made. But a boy in front of my house, all the way down the needs a dog. Mine would wait for me in the street, was a set of metal poles with horses’ schoolyard until the bell rang. One day I came heads carved on them and a ring through home and Prince was gone. As it turns out, their noses. The city placed them there for mother called the local dog pound, but at that people to tie up their horses while shopping. moment when I came home looking for my When I got a little older, I spent Saturdog, she said, “He was run over by a horse.” I day afternoons at the Strand Theater; it was don’t remember how I took the news. located at 1824 W. 3rd Street, about a block Each morning I got dressed. I’m sure from my house. With about 700 seats, I wasn’t I looked presentable as the son of a tailor. alone. We would watch 8 to 10 Mother always looked me over. different black & white films in When satisfied, she gave me a an afternoon, all for the price nickel! I would run across the of a dime. By then all the radio street to the bakery for some fresh shows I grew up listening to had snowflake rolls. Then I would a movie equivalent. Among my dunk them into sweet, hot cocoa favorites were Pathé Internaand savor every bite. tional and Movietone News, The Sometimes I tried to make a Three Stooges; Laurel & Hardy, little money doing odd jobs. At Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, one point I slung a cloth sling and The Perils of Pauline, which over my shoulder and sold magawas a weekly continuous cliffzines. I can see myself on the hanger to get you to come back street shouting, “Read the Post,” the next week. “Liberty Magazine,” or “Get It Horse Head Parking Ring Here.”

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As my thoughts drift back to what seemed like idyllic times, I know my mind is playing tricks on me. Living at the time, day-by-day, so innocent of the future, I wonder now why it did not mean more to me than it does today. These are precious memories. I wish I could share the depth of their present feeling again with you. Our next-door neighbors, the Rosenblatt’s, had 11 kids! Mr. Rosenblatt, to me, was a very, very old man in his seventies. He ran a fresh produce business. Today, of course, at 85, I have a different perspective! Their grandchildren, Jackie Grossman and Ann Ruth were two of my playmates. Next to the Rosenblatt’s lived the McDowells. Mr. McDowell was a very fine gentleman who operated a men’s haberdashery. A haberdashery is a kind of accessories store. His wife never seemed to me to be in the same class. They had two sons, Bill, and Jack. On the other side of our house lived Mrs. Ferry with her daughter, Violet, and her son. I remember trying to teach the little boy how to say ‘Hot Dog.’ He could say ‘Hot’, and he could say ‘Dog,’ but he just could not say ‘Hot Dog.’ He could only say ‘Hot Gog.’ I tried and tried, but could never get him to say it right. Mrs. Ferry gave my Mother a beautiful vase that Harry and Ida eventually kept in their home. My mother’s best friend was Anna Rubinstein. About 40 years later, I saw her son, Ben, running a tobacco stand at the Festival Flea Market in Pompano Beach, Florida. It was her daughter who took dictation from mother when she wrote her letters to me during the war. Mrs. Rubinstein eventually moved a couple of doors from us. Before that, she lived a mile away up on a hill beyond where our drive-in restaurant was eventually located. As a boy, I used to walk up there from time to time because I always knew she would give me milk and Tastykake®, a treat worth the long walk [single pieces of rectangular vanilla cake with

Dora and Anna Rubinstein apx. 1960’s

vanilla icing]. Her kids were toddlers then. She was always walking around the neighborhood and frequently enlisted mother to walk with her. Mother had other friends, and I remember them all. They were the wives of all the struggling Jewish store owners: Mrs. Goldberg of the shoe store, Mrs. Lakin of the grocery store, Mrs. Sussman of another grocery store, Mrs. Savitzky - whose family owned a small department store, Mrs. Smith with her shoe store, Mrs. Snyder - the tailor’s wife, and Mrs. Rosenblatt - the wife of the produce store owner. In the evening, they would meet at a different lady’s home and play penny-ante poker. The women were all careful with their pennies. I remember when they would meet at our house. Mother covered her prized dining room table with a cloth and served a Jewish platter. I didn’t hang around long, just long enough to get a snack and hear them address each other as Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Goldberg, etc.

What Chester Makes, Makes Chester Philadelphia Electric Company building in 1926 courtest of John Aston, PA.

My closest friend as a youngster was Billy Eschiner. I remember the first day he showed up at my Elementary School. We were both probably ten years old. Bill lived on 4th Street with his mother, stepfather, and grandparents. His grandfather had a dog pen in their backyard where he kept hunting dogs. He would go out into the countryside with his Pointers and bring back small game and birds. Bill and I used to sit out back with BB guns shooting at sparrows that perched on the trees or play a simple game of counting trucks going in either direction. He had loads of toys, especially at Christmas. I rarely had any. I used to love to play with his electric trains. To this day, at 85, I still have not lost my fascination with them. I have always wanted to own a set of electric trains. Bill and I lost track of each other after high school. I learned he died at the age of 76. In his heyday, he became an electrical engineer and a pioneer in microwave technology. His name is found in multiple engineering patents.

When I think of Billy, I also remember his neighbors, the Sugarman’s. Mrs. Sugarman was one of mother’s friends and was sometimes part of the poker games the ladies played. The Sugarman’s were known as one of the richest Jewish families in Chester. My brothers were very friendly with their children, all of whom were older than I. One stood out, a brilliant young boy named Sunny. He died in his teens on the cusp of what we all believed was to be a great future. It was one of the most heartbreaking events I remember from my youth. I think he died from appendicitis. Overall, I had a great childhood. There were times I used to lie in bed and imagine the future, wondering what it held for me. Sometimes it’s easier to look back than to look forward. I remember growing up in Chester. I remember that big sign... WHAT CHESTER MAKES, MAKES CHESTER. A flood of memories fills my mind as I think back to those days, long, long ago.

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ELEMENTARY AND MIDDLE SCHOOL 1930, at the age of six, I started 1st grade at the Horace-Mann Elementary School. To get there, I had to walk a block and a half. There was no such thing as Kindergarten. I clearly remember my first day. Izzy, my big brother, was the traffic safety. He wore a colorful belt that made me very proud. My class consisted of 30 to 35 youngsters. The very first thing they did was line us up around the perimeter of the basement. It was scary, but I quickly got past the first day of school jitters and started my formal education. Behind the school stood a library. I used to love going there. I still love reading. The Twins books, The Dutch Twins, The French Twins, etc. were among the titles I could remember. I used to pore over the encyclopedias looking for anything I could imagine and stumble upon others. I think this library was one of the hundreds financed by Andrew Carnegie. The librarian always had a warm smile for me when I came in. I when there often. I would go home for lunch. All the children did. Entering the tailor shop a bell would ring, and I’d yell, ‘Me!’ at the top of my lungs so mother would not have to come running to the store to greet a customer. On the way back to class, she might give me a penny to spend on candy. I then had an important decision to make because there were two candy stores: Smith’s and Shield’s. I carefully studied all the offerings at both stores. The poor storekeeper I chose on any given day had to suffer through many minutes of indecision as I stood before their vast array of delicacies carefully deciding which treat I would choose that day. I did not think I was an especially good student. I excelled at Geography and was passionate about woodworking. I couldn’t start taking woodworking until 6th grade. As soon as I got the chance, I learned to use all the tools: the lathe; coping saw; band saw; hot glue pots; and chisels of all kinds. My teacher, Mr. Lutton, was one of the best I ever had.

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Herman on right wearing knickers with unknown friend. Frank;s clothing by Frank Shooster

By the 8th grade, I had an hour and a half before afternoon classes started. As soon as the bell rang, I’d rush home, gobble my lunch and rush back to the woodworking shop so I could spend a happy hour before the drudgery of afternoon classes. My prized jewel from those times is a small wooden butterfly table I have kept in my office my whole life. I made it with my own hands. In recent years my son, Steve, refinished it, making it sparkle again. I was only 11 or 12 years old when I made it. I didn’t get to make much more as I had to work for my father as soon as high school started.

Herman with book bag

I always wore a type of short pants called knickers to school. My father made them for me. I wore these with long socks that went over my knees. Those socks were often darned. Mother wasn’t about to throw out perfectly good socks just because they had a few holes in the toes. My underwear was a union suit, a one-piece garment with a buttoned flap on the back and buttons in the front. Women wore bloomers. Nothing had zippers. I don’t think they had been invented yet. Regardless, no matter how I dressed, my mother, would look at me and yell, “Slob,” as she used to run after me with a comb. Every morning, rain or shine, I’d be off to school early, getting there just before the bell rang. I’d meet up with my playmates, line up outside and march in. During recess, we would shoot marbles, play group sports, or run around the schoolyard like wild Indians.

One thing school taught me was how to save money. I learned a valuable lesson in doing this. My whole class was encouraged to save. We took dimes and placed them in card slots, which we turned into the bank for deposit after collecting a dollar. My memory is vague on this, but I recall the thrill of an account that slowly came near to ten dollars! Upon graduation from elementary school, I moved on to Dewey Jr. High School; it was on the other side of the playground. Even though it was still just around the corner, it was still a big step for me. I was now one of the upperclassmen on the school grounds at the ages of 13 and 14! The Parent-teacher night was the biggest event during those years. I was always proud if I could get one of my parents to show up. Both schools are gone today, and the buildings have been torn down; they are just empty lots. All just memories and a few photos. Chester itself fell into blight after World War ll. These properties are still empty as of this writing in 2013. Looking back, I have warm memories of all those years, including all the usual teenage traumas.

Fly-Leaf table hand built by Herman(13-14) junior High School, 1938

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Hereman Shooster High School Student Councilman

Bill Eschiner Jr. Bill becomes an Engineer with patents in Microwaves Best Friend

CHESTER HIGH SCHOOL ‘38-’42

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1938, I started 9th grade at Chester High School, graduating in 1942. Those were fateful years for the world. Germany invaded Poland in September 1939, setting off World War II. During my senior year, America officially entered the war when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. We never heard of Pearl Harbor. All of this was an enormous distraction for a young man. Many of my classmates ended up serving the country. A few of them paid the ultimate price. Others returned with lifelong injuries, including me, which I will explain later. Joseph Komarnicki, our class president, became a B-25 bomber pilot. William F. McDowell, my neighbor, died on the beaches of Tarawa. A good friend, Rudy Pompilii, who played saxophone with Bill Haley and the Comets, earned this characterization from the local newspaper, “Rudy is as unlikely a soldier as ever served in the army.” He ended up in the same outfit as the future Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger. But first, we all had to get through high school. Chester High School was a large, gray building with combination lockers lining the halls. I made some friends and got along fairly well, but I never studied much. Plus, I thought I had zero aptitude for Foreign Languages or Math. Years later I realized I had a very strong aptitude for Math, especially when it came to business. Unlike lower school where I was a block away, Chester High was a two-mile walk each morning.

After school was another long walk to Shooster’s & Sons Gas Station and Drive-In. Every day since high school, I pitched in to help the family. Working all the time while attending school left little time for studying. My grades suffered. At the time I had a poor memory for school work. A few classes excited me: Geography, Public Speaking, Current Events, Civics, and especially English Composition. My best teacher ever was my senior class English teacher, Mrs. Leah Jordan. She had a red pencil and used it ruthlessly on everything I wrote. In doing so, she taught me the English language. I’m sure it helped that I always loved reading. For me, there is nothing better than sitting quietly with a good book in my hands. Mrs. Jordan was so strict, my English skills had no choice but to get better. They served me well throughout my life. In later years, I found that I was the editor of many letters written by my kids, especially Mike and Steve. Steve never has learned the difference between ‘there’ and ‘their,’ God bless him. My best education overall was probably just reading. I loved Silas Marner and Moby Dick; they are both excellent books full of moral lessons. I have always loved science and technology with a particular affinity for medicine. If the war hadn’t interrupted my life, I would most likely have pursued medicine as a career. Instead, I became a medic during a bloody war, souring me on that career.

Mrs. Leah Jordan English Teacher My Best Teacher!

My hometown of Chester is located just outside of the world-class city of Philadelphia. Philadelphia is also known as The Cradle of the American Revolution. At one point, it was the Capitol of the United States. With extensive public transportation access, I could visit The Franklin Institute Science Museum and be back home for dinner; it was an enthralling experience. One of my favorite exhibits was the great locomotive engine. I climbed into the cab of that massive engine and pretended to be an engineer, “Toot! Toot!” They also had a huge pendulum hanging from the roof of the fifth-floor stretching all the way to the first. The movement of that pendulum echoes the movement of the Earth. It gracefully swings back and forth, knocking down pins at regular intervals, a hypnotizing experience. Another exciting place for me to visit was The Academy of Natural Science. The highlight of that trip was seeing a life-sized Tyrannosaurus Rex meticulously put together. Every high school has a culture. In ours, every kid adored the school custodian. He was a kind and gentle person. During my short time at school, this man died. His death was my first experience in dealing with the idea of life and death of a loved one. I never forgot him, even though I don’t remember his name. I don’t remember being popular anywhere, except maybe in my family, but I must have been well-liked because I remember being elected to

Mr. Karl Agan Principal of Chester High School Principle with a Vision

the student council. Mother told me that people used to come into our restaurant just because they liked my smile. It’s funny how the little things mean so much. I can’t help but smile now just thinking about this. I don’t recall going out on many dates, but I probably did go out some. I do remember some dances. I was a terrific dancer. During high school, I liked a girl who worked at the drive-in. Her name was Carol Marker. She was my favorite. She wasn’t Jewish, but it didn’t matter to me, and I wasn’t asking my parents for permission. I ended up taking her to the senior prom. She was the girl I longed for when I was far away in the Army. I was pleasantly surprised during our graduation ceremony when the principal, Karl E. Agan, made me the winner of the Danforth Foundation Award. As a reward, I was given a book called I Dare You; it is about a dare to be all that you can be. I sometimes wonder what Mr. Agan saw in me. I often wondered what would become of me. For a long time, I thought I would become a doctor. I certainly never dreamed I would become a small businessman. In fact, I was the best hope for my father to be a doctor and the only one in my family to graduate college. One thing I’m not terribly proud of during those times is that almost everybody smoked cigarettes. So did I. It wouldn’t be until many years later until I would quit. We lived in different times.

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Danforth Foundation Award - I Dare You Excerpts - Page 21-22

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Danforth Foundation Award - I Dare You Table of Contents

Danforth Foundation Award I Dare You (To be the best that you can be)

THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Taking a walk around my neighborhood in the summertime would be the best way for you to experience it. In the evenings, everyone would take chairs and boxes out front of their homes to pass the time. The summer air could be stifling inside. Air conditioning had not yet been invented. I don’t know when it was, but I do know we couldn’t have afforded it anyway. Meanwhile, most days were comfortable. It was mainly the bitter cold of winter that one had to be leery. Heat was a far more crucial commodity than cool air. Living on my quaint street all the early years of my youth was an experience I did not appreciate at the time. Thinking back, I am in awe. It was my whole world. I lived one block south of the lower school and a half block north of the movie house. In-between were virtually all the necessities of life: grocery stores, barbershops, doctors, dentists, beer gardens, tailor shops, candy stores, a bank, the butcher, a bakery, a drug store, an ice cream store, a jeweler, an undertaker, an empty lot to play baseball and even a haberdashery for clothing accessories all within a stone’s throw of my front door. The suburban life we live today was never even imagined then. Once one left the city, there were only farms and occasional crossroads where there might be a country store or a gas station. Much of what we take for granted today did not exist when I was growing up. As I think about it now, in 2011, it occurs to me that just about the longest I have lived anywhere was 1904 West 3rd Street, eighteen formative years. My hometown was normally a quiet place. With the advent of the superhighway and suburban living, in the ’60s, the town became blighted. These economic realities drove my family to move, too. Poor Chester, also became the scene of one of the worst environmental disasters in America, requiring Superfund money to clean it up. Getting out of this small town in hindsight was a blessing; it propelled our family in many ways they would not have attempted. As I reflect back on those seemingly

Dora and Harry with the Twins on 3rd Street The Strand Theater on the Left. Rare photo of 3rd Street

quieter times, I am sure I was dealing with all perplexities and questions of growing up. I bet my grandchildren are experiencing those same things now. The world seemed smaller then and less complicated. Ships and trains were the principal means of long-distance travel, airplanes a curiosity, and cars a significant expense owned by a few. A STONE’S THROW Our home was three houses in from the corner. Several large billboards stood near my home. Behind these was a field where we played baseball. On the other side of the field was Minchell’s funeral home. As kids, we watched it with awe, as the mysterious place where dead bodies were brought and prepared for internment. The funeral home didn’t hold our attention too long because Smith’s Candy Store was next door. The Second National Bank finished the block. It was on the corner of 3rd and Yarnal Streets. The second story of the bank was Dr. Smith’s office, the dentist who took care of our teeth. In those days, the only thing dentists did was either fill cavities or pull teeth.

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Moletteri’s Shoe Store was at 1909 W. 3rd Street; it was located directly across the street. My father helped Pat Moletteri get started with a small loan. Maugher’s Drug Store & Soda Fountain Pat Moletteri was located at 1929 W. 3rd St. Adding bubbles to water to make soda began in drug stores after prohibition got people thinking about alternative drinks. The nearby Barber Shop sold haircuts for 15 cents, but my mother made me walk an extra mile where it was only 10 cents. The barber always used tonic on my hair when he finished. Doctor Grey’s Office was also on our street. He was our medical doctor. I remember one visit as a little boy. The fee was two dollars, including medicine, bandages, etc. During those years, there was always a fear of things like infantile paralysis, smallpox, pneumonia, and measles. Blood poisoning and diarrhea were worrisome dangers, too. During the Thirties, sulfa drugs had been invented and became the miracle drug of that time to help fight infections. When I was a medic, sulfa was the drug of choice for preventing infections. It was not until well into the war years that penicillin became available. At first, it was scarce and only available to the Armed Forces. In the army, we mixed penicillin with shaving cream. It showed great promise. Lindenbaum Real Estate rented our home to us. Mr. Lindenbaum was very friendly with my father. He got my dad interested in real estate.

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The American Stores Company (Acme) had bright yellow grocery stores located all over town. Many foods, if not most, we take for granted today, did not exist back then. If they did exist, it would have been in different forms. For instance, there was no packaged butter. Butter was scooped and sold from an open tub. There were also no canned soups. In fact, I can’t remember anything that was canned. All food needed to be cooked or prepared in some way. Beans were loose; sugar was scooped and weighed. Supermarkets were a long way off into the future and had not even been invented yet. You could not buy milk or cream at the grocery store. They were delivered by a milkman. You could not buy meat either. That was sold at a butcher shop. Many Jews were Kosher, so their meats had to be purchased from specialized butcher shops. We were not Kosher in our house, but my parents still bought meats from Kosher stores whenever they could. The Atlantic & Pacific Tea Co., known by its more common name, The A & P Store, was a bright red grocery store with locations all over the United States; they operated like the Acme, except their claim to fame was coffee. Every A & P had a huge, bright-red coffee grinder. All coffee was ground fresh. The aroma of freshly ground coffee floated right out of the front door of the store making it very enticing for anybody nearby to come in. Oser’s Bakery was at 3rd and Palmer. Every morning for years, I went across the street for three snowflake rolls, all for a nickel. I always smeared them with butter, folded and dunked them into hot cocoa. While picking them up, I was confronted with every kind of sumptuous temptation. I always ogled but could never afford them.

Felton Fire Company with Shooster’s Drive-in in the background

Matchbook cover selling the Chester Ferry

Max Katz’s shoe repair shop had an inviting sign out front. It said, “Heels and Soles.” As a leather shop, it had a unique aroma and a set of whizzing and whirling machines. My brother, Harry, used to work there as a young boy. Downey’s Pool Hall was mysterious to me as a little boy; it was shoehorned in-between two retail stores, a long narrow hall that led back to a wideopen room full of pool tables. I was intimidated by the pool hall place and never stepped inside. Part, if not most of the intimidation I had for this place and others on that block, like Maugher’s Drug Store & Soda Fountain, were intertwined with my own, perhaps imagined, anti-Semitism. I cannot point to any overt instance of it that I remember, yet I sensed it all about me. There were often references to Jews in a pejorative way. The derogative word ‘kike’ was not unfamiliar to me. Even in play, from time to time, the word Jew was used in ways that were intended to ‘put me down,’ like ‘Jew-boy.’ Boker’s Grocery Store was across the street from where I lived. The owner always had a stern face. Mr. Boker was immaculate in his dress, including a long,

white, apron wrap, straw hat, and sleeves sheathed in ‘megaphone looking’ protectors from his wrists to his elbows. There was another shoe repair shop on the block called Epstein’s. Mrs. Epstein was a brilliant woman. Her daughter, Rose, was a schoolmate of mine. We were friendly but not really friends. I think Rose grew up to be a committed Communist. Rubash’s Deli had the best Virginia-baked ham I ever tasted. John’s Bar, on the corner of 3rd and Rainey Street, was where my father might stop in once in a while for a drink. For a nickel, you got a shot of whiskey and your choice of a sandwich. Sandwiches were piled up on the bar for the taking. Kelly’s Drug Store was an old-fashioned apothecary. They dispensed ‘no-nonsense’ prescriptions. There were no distractions like sodas and ice cream. No refreshments. Just a pure, old-fashioned drug store with the pungent aromas of unknown chemicals permeating the air inside. The Liberty Restaurant was a Greek restaurant with a huge sign outside, but I never saw any patrons. Klieman’s Notion Store were sellers of fabric.

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Felton Fire Company was located directly across from Dewey School. Fairly often, the great horn at the firehouse would blare. When it happened, you would think that sound could be heard for a hundred miles. The alarm was designed to summon the volunteer firemen. Fire engines often came charging out of the garage to points unknown. It was thrilling to a little boy like me to see them in action. Those great red fire engines were always part of our civic parades, too. My favorite was the hook and ladder truck; it was awesome, with one driver in the cab and another perched up on the rear. McCoy’s Toys sold lead soldiers for pennies. The store was full of stuff labeled ‘Made in Japan.’ In those days, that was a synonym for junk. Frankel’s Department Store, I don’t recall much except that their son, Harold Frankel, was Harry and Izzy’s friend. The Chester-Bridgeport Ferry was the way to New Jersey and all points to the sand and beaches of Atlantic City before the bridge. This ferry was the lifeline of our business, both the gas station and the diner depended on waves of travelers. We used to pass out flyers and place them in the windshields of the cars. Business came to us in droves as the ferry disembarked and everyone drove off. Large factories faced the waterfront. They were the main reason that Chester was on the map in the first place. Sun Boatyard builders, Ford Motor Car, and Scott Tissue were among the largest employers in the region. I would be remiss if I did not mention the Delaware River, littered with industrial plants, all belching into the air and rusting away. Years after I left, the excess from these plants would cause one of the worst environmental disasters in America. The location of the disaster was directly under the Commodore Perry Bridge on the Pennsylvania side. Storage tanks of chemicals were placed under the bridge against the law. Eventually, they leaked, and a fire set the whole chemical stew ablaze. Before our waterway became one of the most polluted in the nation, we used to jump off the piers and swim in the clean waters. Ohev Shalom Synagogue was our temple. From time to time I went to Sunday school in downtown Chester. The synagogue was a three-story building with a sanctuary on the 3rd floor. For a short while, I tried

to be devout, but my visits to the temple were usually discouraging. The Rabbi seemed helpless, conducting services for a large room full of people all doing their own thing. It seemed out of control and not at all reverent. Worse, I could not understand a word that was said because the service was completely in Hebrew. Mother hired a teacher to prepare me for my Bar Mitzvah, but I was a very poor student of the language. He used to try to teach me to read as he held a ruler in his hand. Every time I made a mistake, he would slap my hand with the ruler. It wasn’t very many lessons before I rebelled. I never had a Bar Mitzvah. My father, that most wonderful of men whom I shall revere until I take my last breath, though a native of conservative Eastern Europe steeped in religion, was not religious either. I think that was why I was able to stand my ground and give up trying to learn Hebrew. As it happened, neither of my older brothers were Bar Mitzvahed, either. In his 50’s, my brother Harry made up that deficiency and celebrated his own. Eventually, he became president of the synagogue for a three-year term.

Summer 1949 - Herman with First Car

I remember staring at a huge painting in their hallway. It was an image of God, arms and wings spread wide from edge-to-edge, enfolding mankind. I use to look at that picture, knowing it had to be somebody’s imagination sensing my own perplexing ideas. I believe at some point, regardless of your religion, everyone has to grapple with the concept of God. I don’t know why this picture made such an impression on me. Maybe it was just a hope on my part that there really was that kind of a protecting force. With WWII looming and the coming knowledge of the Nazi Holocaust, my beliefs were seriously tested. But I can tell you today, in my advanced years, I have found comfort in saying the Sh’ma every night before I go to bed. EPILOGUE OF A TIME GONE BY

Imagine this world as it was in those long-ago years when I was still a boy, before Kleenex™, television, air conditioning, paper towels, disposable diapers, jet airplanes, suburbs, school buses, zippers, ball-point pens, tubeless tires, refrigerators, supermarkets, interstate highways, fast-foods, microwave ovens and, of course, computers. Those things just did not exist. In school, some of us were taught to use a ‘slide rule’ for complex math problems. If you were lucky enough to have a telephone in your home, it was usually a party line, a phone line shared with many neighbors. I seem to remember our telephone number at home was 133. There was no such thing as push-button phones; it was all done with a dial. In the station, we wouldn’t have thought of installing a regular phone, but we did have a payphone. To avoid the toll when calling home, we would use a code, dial 133, wait for two rings, and hang up. Mother would call us back for free. Life was simple, but for many, short. Most people did not live long enough to get cancer or heart disease.

Shooster Family First Phone Number

Harry and Herman Shooster at the Station

If you re-read the first sentence of this section and stop at each word, contemplate it slowly, you will really be shocked. No suburbs? No television? It truly was a different world I lived in. This was the world before World War II. TEEN YEARS

During the height of the depression in 1932, my parents somehow scraped together enough money to buy a small gas station on a poor corner of the busiest street in Chester. We always referred to this place simply as, ‘the station.’ The address was 9th and Edwards. By 1934, the economy was still flat. I was ten. My dad must have been troubled. I choose this word carefully. Considering my dad’s challenges, he always seemed optimistic to me. I don’t know if it was because his own upbringing was so difficult, or if he just generally could take things in stride. Most likely it was all of this and more. Either way, to get through the economic turmoil, we all had to buckle down on expenses and find new ways 127 to earn money. There was no other choice.

Shooster’s gas station with 13 brands of fuel

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I can only imagine how big a gamble he undertook. Buying a gas station was a bold calculated risk. Ninth Street serviced Route 13, the main north-south route between New York and Washington, D.C. All of that traffic went right by our place. I guess my father was betting on the changing American landscape; it was a good bet. The automobile was changing everything, defining a new culture. Drive-in restaurants were just beginning to take hold, drag racing, necking with girls in cars, the formation of suburbs and so much more was just around the corner. Cars were the IN thing. They drove by with radios blaring from open windows. Swing and Big Band music filled the air. Along with the rise in automobiles, roads were being built everywhere to accommodate them and, since cars needed fuel and constant service, Pop bet on a sure thing, especially since yesterday’s cars are nothing like today’s. Old cars weren’t reliable. Radiators needed water frequently, batteries failed easily, requiring daily checking, inner tubes inside the tires blew out, and the roads had potholes and other debris, causing constant damage.

On a 100-mile trip to Atlantic City, you had to be prepared to fix a flat tire, fill your radiator and bring plenty of fluids because there was no air conditioning. Regardless of the inconveniences, people loved their cars and the independence that came along with them. As a result, they were driving right past our little station with the sign, OPEN and, when they stopped, we treated them well. Everywhere cars went, the culture of America changed. In a few years, we would also be displaced by those very same new roads. Our station got its small share of customers. Hanging out with my dad and brothers left me with many memories. Most days we listened to the radio while we waited. One of the highlights of those times was when a baseball game was on. Rarely, if ever, did we hear a football game. If we did, it was never a professional football game, only college or high school. I had never even heard of professional football. Working at the station, I saw all kinds of people dressed for traveling. Some were headed for the big cities and others the beach.

Left to Right, Shooster’s Gas Station, shooster’s Ice House, Shooster’s Second Gas Station

Young and old, rich and poor, sunny days and winter nights, everyone needed and appreciated fuel, service, and a welcome greeting. There were no set hours for any of the stations back then. In our case, we just opened when we could, usually at 10 am, and stayed open until 10 pm. No one was open 24 hours. If you didn’t get gas or service during the hour’s stations were open, you just didn’t get it until the next day. I remember a long, concrete island with all the brands we sold. Each had a pump with its own brand. Fuel wasn’t standardized like it is today. It seems funny now, but we represented over 13 different brands at our tiny station. Among them were Gulf, Good Gulf, Essolene, Standard, Leader, Atlantic, Sinclair, American, Amoco, Richfield, Texaco, Tydol, Atlantic White Flash, and Ethyl. The amusing thing is I’m not sure if the suppliers knew the right hole to put their brand. I bet many times they just filled another brand’s pump. To help attract business, we kept the place spit-polish clean. I used to mix lime and water into a ‘whitewash’ and paint the sides of our concrete island. If it didn’t sparkle, I did it again. Eventually, the Lee Tire Company erected a huge vertical sign in the middle of all those pumps, and we added tire sales to the mix. We were in business. Maybe just by our fingernails, but we were in business.

Usually, Harry or Izzy would open up the station. If my dad and I got there before them, we would have to open up ourselves. Opening up was an ambitious process. First, the gasoline pumps had to be turned on, and then the tires rolled out of the garage and put out on display. Oil cans, in quart and two-gallon cans, had to be placed into a pyramid display, and last, a small bag of coins and dollar bills opened and placed into the cash register. And then we waited until a car would pull up. One of us would rush out to meet the driver, “Fill’er up, mister?” If we were lucky, we would sell a tire or some oil. We also sold retreads. A driver might ask for the special, seven gallons for a dollar. For that, I would pump the gas, clean all their windows, lift the hood, check the oil, put water in the radiator in the summer or anti-freeze in the winter, then the driver would pull the car over to the air hose and would make sure his inner tubes were full. Today you’d be hard-pressed to find all this service. For us, it was business as usual. We embraced it as a great way to differentiate ourselves. In this way, we lived up to the expression, “Earning business the good ‘ole fashioned way.” The modern world could use a lesson in this. 129

Chester Times, Oct 24th, 1936

Chester Times, Oct 3rd, 1936

My dad was always looking for a way to give the business a boost, he frequently advertised in the local newspaper to drum up business. I think we, his kids, may have made the difference. All we needed was food to work, and since we were at the peak of health with great, big, friendly smiles, we earned our customers with true grit and a welcome greeting. Absolutely nothing was handed to us. Whatever we did, it must have worked because a couple of years after getting the station, Pop was able to get another one. The next one was located on the corner at the opposite end of the same block, 9th and Flower Street, otherwise known as Route 322. The reason he purchased this one was to pick up the east-west traffic. Flower Street was the main road through Chester that terminated a few blocks to the east at the Chester-Bridgeport Ferry our keyt source of business. Now Pop had two gas stations on the same block serving all points of the compass, and an empty lot that stood in-between. Eventually, he bought that empty lot, too.

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Shooster’s Gas Station Marketing Phone number 2-9386

Chester Times, Feb 27th, 1937

Things were changing, and fuel was becoming standardized. Gasoline retailing began offering a single brand at each station. Customers tended to stick with the brand they trusted. Choosing a brand, or more precisely, being allowed to sell a particular brand, was critical to our business. The best my dad could secure was Amoco for one station and ESSO for the other. Meanwhile, across the street, our competitor had the top brand, at the time, Atlantic. There was always a gas price war waged between all the stations on 9th Street. Who would sell the cheapest? One thing we could do to differentiate ourselves was to treat customers like kings. With perseverance and hard work, a couple of years later, we earned the Atlantic brand, and business picked up. When Pop purchased the empty block between the two stations, he added a little ice house so customers could keep their food fresh. It was only big enough to store four or five large blocks of ice. We used ice picks to chip off a 10 cent or 15 cent piece. Along the other side of the lot, Pop put a servicing pit for greasing cars and changing oil. We did everything we could to leverage our small business. I would climb down a clumsy ladder to get under a car so I could put grease in the bearings or change the oil. As you can imagine, by the end of the day all of our clothing would be full of grease. We would take them home, and mother would wash them by hand.

Shoosters Gas Station with neon lights, 1939

I never went home after high school. I used to walk to the station instead. On days off from school, I would get there earlier. You would always find me at the station. We had to work. I never questioned my obligation to my family. My father needed us. To get to the station, I had to walk up Flower Hill. I must have climbed that hill thousands of times, regardless of the weather. At the crest stood our place; it shined like a beacon, and if it didn’t, it was my job to take the whitewash out and make sure it did. And the snow! Huge snowstorms would smother us with a cold white blanket. We would shovel as much as we could to keep the lanes clear for customers. During those long winter days and nights, we holed up in the station around the Emerson radio - Pop; Iz; Harry; our neighbor, Mr. McDevitt; and little me. Sitting around the radio, there were always spirited discussions on topics of the day: The Depression, President Roosevelt, the WPA, Father Coughlin, a virulent anti-Semite radio talking head, and news of the day. Between shows, we bantered about politics and world events. I thrived on it. Sometimes I would hop up onto the oil stove to get warm. Iz used to like to drink Coke right from the bottle. He always saved me the last inch. Every now and then a car would pull up, and one of us would put our heavy jacket on and step into the cold with a welcome greeting, “Fill ’er up, mister?”

H.P. Michaels of East Landsdowne, was installed as president of the Delaware County Retail Gasoline Dealers’ Association at a meeting held last night in Red Men’s Hall. 2112 West Third street. He succeeds Charles J. Ward. merchant of the West End. Who had served as president for the past eight years, having been elected to the office at the organization meeting and re-elected each succeeding year. Mr. Ward declined to run for office again. Other officers installed last night were: L. M. Maison, of Eddystone. vice president; J.T. Hill of Eddystone, secretary; E. G. Roder, of Chester, treasurer; Archie Levy, solicitor. A board of directors was chosen, the members being Charles J. Ward, chairman, Frank Shooster and James Crompton, of this city. W.P. Supplee, of Lansdowne; William Ingram, of Wallingford; William Loveland of Parkside; and William Gibson and William Fenza, of Prospect Park. Trustees elected were; David Sidwell, Louis Bauer and William Baswarwick, all of Chester. Concerning the proposed oil code the association went on record as approving the plan proposed by Senator Borah, the only Senator who has taken up the independent oil men’s fight against Secretary Ickes, oil code administrator. The meeting last night was one of the best attended since the organization was formed. Five new members were admitted. Chester Times Jan. 12th, 1934

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Harry, Herman and Frank Shooster 1943 Notice Harry’s pants a clipped at the bottom

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During the Second World War, the country started rationing. Most of the time we were just plain out of gas. At other times, we would get a load of gas and cars would line up three blocks long. Emotions ran high when people couldn’t get fuel, but we could only give them what their sticker allowed. For example, a car with an ‘A’ sticker on the windshield was only permitted two gallons. Very few cars were entitled to more. We were not alone. All of the other gas stations only got occasional deliveries as well. One day a car pulled up to the station with the father of one of my best friends, Wilson Blaylock. That is when he shocked me with the news. Wilson was killed riding his bicycle. I was stunned. How could this happen? He was only 12 years old! Years later, Wilson’s sister, Molly, a beautiful girl, married a fellow named Colin Kelly. Kelly went to war and became immortalized as one of our first American heroes. The story I heard was that shortly after Pearl Harbor, Capt. Kelly caught a Japanese warship midway

between Hawaii and the west coast and sunk it by diving his plane, kamikaze style. Of course, in doing so, he died. Or so this was the rumor spoken of far and wide. It wasn’t until I was in my late 80’s that I learned the truth. The truth was even more chilling. After making a successful bombing run with his B-17 on the Japanese cruiser Nakori, Captain Kelly was returning to his base at Clark Airfield in the Philippines when he was jumped by Japanese flying ace Saburo Saki. Captain Kelly, stayed at the controls while his men bailed out with parachutes. With the men safely away, the plane blew up, and he and his co-pilot were ejected. The co-pilot, Lieutenant Donald Robins, survived with an opened parachute; Kelly’s never deployed. Every day at the station was another story. One time, Mr. Sugarman, a local real estate owner, and friend of the family pulled up for gas. I greeted him. At first, I couldn’t understand why he was so cheerful. That is when he proudly flashed for my eyes seven $1,000 bills! I had never seen anything like that before.

Shooster’s Expanded Gas and Service Station

Apparently, he just made the money in some property deal. Seven thousand dollars in 1933 was an absolute fortune! I was only nine years old. You can imagine my astonishment. Ever since, real estate has always seemed like a good idea to me. On a funnier note, we all wore greasy overalls. Hanging out of our pockets were cloth rags for checking and changing the oil. Harry once had a mouse run up his leg inside those overalls. He got it out of there, but not before squirming and yelling to high heaven. After that, he wore bicycle clips around the bottom of his pants to keep out any more mice, but he could not keep us from ribbing him about it for years to follow. If you look carefully at the photos from those times, you will see his pants tied at the bottom. We spent endless hours at the station. With a little ingenuity, Harry took empty cans

Capt. Colin Kelly B -17 Bomber Pilot

of oil and tilted them over another can so as to slowly collect the residual oil. Eventually, this became another quart we could sell for the full 15 cents, clearing a profit with no costs. We did lots of odd jobs during those times. For years, we ran ads in the paper selling and installing car heaters and radios. We could do most anything for cars, putting chains on wheels when it snowed or fix flat tires. We even had a special room out back to charge batteries, often eight or ten at a time. Anything to make a little extra cash. Cars were nowhere as reliable back then as they are today. Today there are millions of drivers on the road who have never even seen the engine in their own automobile. Eventually, Izzy tired of the station and wanted to do something on his own. Pop took him around to find something, and they settled on a taproom.

Saburo Saki Japanese Flying Ace

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cents

Shooster’s original menu. Hamburger 10 cents

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I still hear in my mind’s eye my parents speaking Yiddish to each other. When they spoke in English, it was always with a distinctive accent. Yiddish words would often pop up in their sentences. Listening to them speak in that rich dying language always gave me a reason to pause. They weren’t alone. Many of their peers spoke the same way. Pop frequently sat with the Daily Forward, a Yiddish newspaper, and read the news of the day. My father was not just diligent at improving our lives; he was civic-minded as well. Every Monday he would meet with a Jewish businessman’s organization on the first floor of the Chester Jewish Community Center. Together they started the Delaware Finance Corporation and made my father its president. All the years of my life I only knew it as the corporation. The purpose of The Corporation was to loan money to each other at 4% interest. Loans were maybe a few hundred dollars. It was a sort of poor man’s bank. Each member had to donate money to the initial pool. My mother recalls the initial amount was $3. From these meager beginnings, The Corporation gained traction, attracting investors of all types. In its heyday, it was not just a Jewish organization. Among its investors was a church. And because a church invested, accounting was required. Those records reveal the corporation was managing 48K (500K - 2021) in capital. Even though the men held meetings at the Jewish Community Center, to my knowledge, Pop never went upstairs to the sanctuary. I never saw him pray at a temple.

I remember my father in the mornings, at the table, eating breakfast while reading the paper. He liked Wheatena, a cereal still sold today. Often, when I was off from school in the summer, or on winter weekends, we would go out to the garage together. My job was to open the huge doors while he backed out the Chrysler. Then, after closing the doors, I would hop in the front seat, and off we would go to the station. Many Sundays the whole family would pile into that car and go to Atlantic City. Getting there was always an adventure. Some of the roads were not even paved. It was not unusual to get a flat tire on a long journey like that. We crossed the Delaware River by ferry and then drove through endless miles of N.J. cornfields and tomatoes with our windows down. The summer was hot. In 1938, my father built a small drive-in restaurant. From the moment it opened, we always called it, ‘the stand.’ For many years after that, whatever else I was doing, my life was always entwined with the stand. The idea for ‘the stand’ came from about 15 miles south where there was another little drive-in called Spic-n-Span. Using this as a template, we made a few modifications, and with the help of George Nichols, built an ovalshaped white building with space on the roof for signs that read: Meats, Frankfurters, and Served to your Car. A spire that simply proclaimed, Shooster’s, stood on top. It was a small building, but it contained everything we needed to run the business: a grill, soda fountain, refrigerator, ice cream cabinet, coffee service, and a Bain

Shooster’s 1st Gas Station on the left. Shooster’s Drive-In with enclosure on the right, 1939

Marie, which is an open refrigerator where we would keep pans of tuna fish salad, ham, cheese, tomatoes, and lettuce. A mechanical cash register sat on the counter waiting for the familiar ‘cha-ching’ when the customer paid. The stand was a success. We employed about 10 to 12 carhops, pretty young girls dressed in snappy uniforms. They would go out to the cars to complete the experience. With an order in hand, they would bring it back to the grill and place it on the counter. I did a lot of the cooking back then. As the orders were ready, you could hear me call out, “One Chocolate Shake! Two Cokes! Black and White Ice Cream Soda!” and on and on until the order was ready. Then I would call out to the carhop to pick up the order. She would place it on an aluminum tray and carry it to the car. The tray conveniently hooked over the door of the car. I became a short-order cook at the age of 14. I was a whirling dynamo behind the counter, flippin’ burgers, mixin’ shakes, and preppin’ ice cream sodas, all at the same time. Pretty soon I was doing this in my sleep.

Cindy Thomas Fernando, the daughter of one of the carhops, was told stories as she grew up about her mom. She said, “Once my mom was serving a customer. She hooked the tray onto their car window, and somehow the window slid down spilling the tray inside of the car!” Albert Billinger, a Chester resident, said, “I met John Dupont there one night, you know the one from Foxcatcher fame… or infamy. I used to cruise through Shooster’s all the time. After you shined up your ride, you would go to Shooster’s.” Tom Hutchins, another old Chester resident, said, “Oh my god, memories, a friend of mine was ‘challenged’ at Shooster’s by a guy who was one of the bad-ass punks of Chester. He swung at my friend, who weaved and landed more than one on him, and knocked him through the window onto the table inside!”

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Frank Shooster Inside the Drive-In Addition 1939

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The stand was successful from its inception, but it wasn’t without problems. Those were happy days for our family. One of the keys to our success was giving great personalized service. I can’t emphasize this enough, critically it applies to every business, always give customers a quality experience. Customer service was at the heart of everything we did and perhaps the most important part. Everybody in Chester came to Shooster’s or was talking about it. They arrived hungry and left with full bellies and smiles. Shooster’s was quite a hangout. We became one of the IN places to go in the whole Delaware Valley. Lovely carhops in snappy uniforms, good food, fast cars, and GREAT service all mixed perfectly. Eventually, to make room for all the cars, we took down both gas stations and bought the lot behind the building from the school. A few young women were asked for their hands in marriage at the stand. A local girl named Patty Nardone was one of those. 1938, a newspaper article appeared with a quote from Frank Shooster, Sr., titled Hamburgers ‘n Cokeing. In a rare quote, he said, “We are forever trying to reach perfection in our service and facilities. Every day brings us nearer and nearer to our goal.”

Harry Shooster Inside the Drive-In addition 1939

I don’t know what Cokeing means, but I suspect it relates to the new soda that was invented by adding carbon dioxide bubbles to water, ala Coca-Cola™. In the summer, many kids went to camps. I only went once when I was 14; it didn’t work out too well. A key man at the stand quit, and I was the only person who knew how to make everything, so my parents came and got me to keep it operating. I’m glad they did. By the time I was 17, Shooster’s Drive-In had established a great reputation. We were so popular it would take all day just to prepare for the evenings. During those years, it seems like I molded a million hamburgers, chopped a zillion onions, and made tons of simple syrup drums, a mixture of water and sugar, the base for all our fountain drinks. Besides the car-hop service, we also had a few stools around the counter where walkins could sit for lunch or just drop in for a cup of coffee. In 1939, we built a glass enclosure around the front and added a few wooden booths. Now there was a warm, dry place to come out of the cold or rain. I remember my dad sitting there on those wooden benches for hours at a time reading his paper. We always hustled to get business. One way was to print circulars and distribute them down by the ferry. Business literally came to us by boatloads.

The Shooster Drive-In Resturant on West Ninth Street between Flower & Edwards is one of the bright diversions in the citys hum-drum life. There nightly, may be found hundreds of Chester’s citizenry savoring the delightful specialties served on trays right to the car by a cheerful corps of beautiful Shooster car-hops. Founded on the firm foundation of serving the best foods obtainable, prepared in the inimitable Shooster style and served the curb-service way. Shooster’s has been a popular redezvous with the younger set and with the older folks, too, since its debut in 1938. Shooster’s offers the supreme luxury of eating and drinking in the comfort and privacy of ones own automobile. The founder, Frank Shooster who has provided the impetus and the ideas behind this successful enterprise states his policy in these words, “We are forever trying to reach perfection in our service and facilities. Every day brings us near and nearer to our goal.” To furthur this policy the Shooster Drive-In will be completely remodeled and enlarged as soon as materials become available. No effort or expense will be spared to make Shooster’s one of the finest drive-in restuarants in the East.

“We are forever trying to reach perfection in our service and facilities. Every day brings us nearer and nearer to our goal.” - Frank Shooster

Claudia Chandler, Carhoop, Shooster’s Drive-In, 1947

Unknown Publication Possibly 1948 Quoting Frank Shooster

August, 1947, Feast in your chariot

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How to Maximize the Parking Spaces at Shooster’s Drive-In Drawing by Herman Shooster. 1940-1950’s

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Imagine the long hours. We were open until 1 AM on weekdays and 2-3 AM on weekends. By this time, my dad’s life settled into a nice routine. He would go to his men’s club on Monday and then after the meetings to the Boyd Theater to see a movie, alone. After the movie, by 11:15 pm. he would be at the stand to help close out the cash register. In the summer, my mother would see to it that Pop got away to Atlantic City for at least two weeks. He loved the beach and the sun. We had big decisions back then, like raising the price of a cup of coffee. We pondered it for months, How to raise the price from 5 cents to 10 cents per cup? It took six months to finally make the change. Pricing is a delicate problem but, at some point, you have to just face it.

I thought this life would never change. We were all healthy and made a good living. When I went to war, I thought I’d come back to the same place. The world doesn’t stop turning, and life took a dramatic change. My parents can be characterized by the popular saying, “Only in America.” Where else could dirt-poor immigrants raise themselves out of poverty to ownership? They had their backs against the wall in a severely depressed economy, yet managed to somehow find a way forward. I can’t help but admire them for their tenacity.

Shoosters Drive-In with neon lights close-up, 1939

Caption: Pop Always had Faith in His Block Shooster’s Drive-In at night. Parking ‘hang-out’ in a circle around the building

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Original Shooster’s Drive-In Menu

Original Shooster’s Drive-In built by George Nichols 1938

Shooster’s Drive-In Drawings to add enclosure.

Geore V. Nichols Builder of the original Shooster’s Drive-In Obituary, Chester Times, June 12th, 1952

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Caption: Do Not Blow Your Horn 1940’s Shooster’s Drive-In Note - Shooster’s Gas Station on the Left.

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We Love Shooster’s Hamburgers

Herman Shooster THE WAR YEARS

HERMAN SHOOSTER A well-worn wallet photo 1943

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TIMELINE 1939

Aug. 23 Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact - Nazi Germany and Russian agree to splits Poland. Sept. 01 WW2 starts with the attack of Germany on Poland. Sept. 29 Tychin becomes a part of Russia. TIMELINE 1941 Focused on the Pacific

Aug 28 Herman (age 17) sponsors a meeting of the Iota Chapter of Sigma Alpha Rho Fraternity in Chester

Excerpt, Chester Times, Aug 28, 1941 Herman joins Sigma Alpha Rho

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Dec 7 Japanese surprise attacks Pearl Harbor, Hawaii/ They also bomb the Philippines, Wake Island, Guam, Malaya, Thailand, Shanghai, and Midway. Dec 8 US and Britain declare war on Japan. Japanese land near Singapore and enter Thailand. Dec 9 China declares war on Japan. Dec 10 Japanese invade the Philippines and also seize Guam. Dec 11 Japanese invade Burma. Dec 15 First Japanese merchant ship sunk by a US submarine. Dec 16 Japanese invade British Borneo. Dec 18 Japanese invade Hong Kong. Dec 22 Japanese invade Luzon in the Philippines. Dec 23 General Douglas MacArthur begins a withdrawal from Manila to Bataan; Japanese take Wake Island. Dec 25 British surrender Hong Kong. Dec 26 Manila declared an open city. Dec 27 Japanese bomb Manila.

TIMELINE 1942

Jan 2 Japanese capture Manila and Cavite. Jan 11 Japanese invade Dutch East Indies and Dutch Borneo. Jan 19 Japanese capture North Borneo. Jan 16 Japanese invade Burma. Jan 23 Japanese invade Rabaul. Feb 2 Japanese invade Java. Feb 8 Japanese invade Singapore. Feb 15 British surrender Singapore. Feb 19 Japanese attack Australia. Feb 29 Roosevelt orders MacArthur to withdraw from the Philippines. MacArthur vows, “I shall return.” Feb 23 Japanese attack USA mainland at a Santa Barbara Oil Refinery; The war was quickly stacking up against the allies. If Australia were to fall, the whole region would be under enemy control. Australia fought mercilessly in New Guinea to stop the Japanese and slowly turned the tide. The Japanese have naval and air superiority. Apr 9 US surrenders Bataan. Mar MacArthur abandons the Philippines, leaving behind 90,000 American and Filipino troops. Lacking food, supplies, and support they succumb to the Japanese offensive. To turn the tide of public opinion, a one-way mission is launched at the Japanese mainland. It came to be known as the Doolittle raid. A group of B-25s drops bombs on the mainland, then crash-land in China. May 6 General Wainwright unconditionally surrenders all US and Filipino forces in the Philippines. May 7-8 The Battle of the Coral Sea. Using aircraft carriers, the entire battle is fought in the air, with a victory declared by the US Herman graduates high school. Jun 4-5 The Battle of Midway marks the turning point of the war. The Japanese lose four aircraft carriers the US lose one

TIMELINE 1943

Aug 7 US invades Tulagi and Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands - 40,000 US casualties. Aug 8 In a night attack north of Guadalcanal, Japanese destroy 3 US heavy cruisers, an Australian cruiser, and a US destroyer in less than an hour! 1,500 crewmen lost. Aug 17 122 US Marines are inserted via submarine to attack the Makin Atoll. Aug 21 US repulses an attack on Guadalcanal. Sept 12-14 Guadalcanal - Battle of the blood ridge. Sept 15 Japanese submarine sinks Carrier Wasp, destroyer O’Brian, and damages battleship North Carolina. Oct 14/15 Japanese bomb Henderson Field, Guadalcanal, and then launch a raid, sending troops on shore. Oct 26 US loses aircraft carrier Hornet. Nov 14 US Cruiser Juneau is sunk. Dec 2 Enrico Fermi conducts world’s first nuclear reaction at the University of Chicago. Dec 12 Liquidation of Lutsk by Nazi-occupied Poland. The death of Benzy Shuster, Benzy’s wife and kids, and an unknown number of relatives. Dec 31 Emperor Hirohito gives permission to have his troops withdraw from Guadalcanal.

Herman Shooster (18) High School Photo 1942

Jan 2 Allies take Buna, New Guinea. Feb 1 Japanese evacuate Guadalcanal. Feb 9 Japanese resistance ends on Guadalcanal. Apr 18 US code-breakers locate Admiral Yamamoto on a Japanese bomber and 18 P-38 fighters shoot it down. Apr. 22 Japanese execute Doolittle Raiders. May 14 Japanese sink Australian hospital ship Jun 1 US begins submarine warfare against Japanese shipping. Jun 19 Herman is inducted into the Army at Indiantown Gap, Unit A Pennsylvania. Jun 23 Letter to brother, Izzy Jun 26 Mail from brother Harry Jun 26 The Phone bill - Homesick Jul Herman basic training at Camp Grant, Chicago. Jul 14 Letter to brother, Izzy Jul 15 Mail from brother Izzy Jul 15 Mail from brother Harry Jul 20 Mail from brother Harry Jul 29 Mail from brother Harry Jul 29 Letter to brother, Izzy Aug 1-2 PT Boats attempt to block a Japanese convoy in the Solomon Islands. Lt. John F. Kennedy’s PT 109 is rammed and sunk. Kennedy survives and carries an injured crewman to safety on the shore. Aug 3 Letter to brother, Izzy Aug 25 Allies recapture New Georgia. Aug 31 Letter to brother, Izzy Sep 4 Allies capture Lae-Solomon, New Guinea Sep 5 Letter to brother Izzy Sep 9 Mail from brother Harry Sep 11 Mail from brother Izzy Sep 12 Letter to brother Izzy Oct 7 Japanese execute 100 US POWs on Wake Island Oct Herman gets a six-day pass and heads home (iconic photos) Oct 26 Emperor Hirohito states his country is in a “Grave state” Nov Herman moves into an empty Japanese American Internment 145 Camp in California

Nov 1 US invades Bougainville, Solomon Islands Nov 20 US invades Makin and Tarawa, Gilbert Islands. Nov 23 Japanese resistance ends on Makin and Tarawa. Dec 14 Letter to brother, Izzy Dec 26 Marines 1st Div attacks New Britain. TIMELINE 1944

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Jan 1 Herman joins 637 Med. Clearing Company Separate Platoon 2, Training at Fort Ord Jan 9 British recapture Burma Jan 27 Letter to brother Izzy Feb 1-7 US troops capture Kwajalein and Jajura Atolls in the Marchal Islands. Feb 1 Letter to brother Izzy Feb 6 Letter to brother Izzy Feb 20 US carrier based planes destroy Jap base on Rabaul. Feb 24 Letter to brother Izzy Mar 3 Letter to brother Izzy Mar 9 637 Med. Clr Co. is at a staging camp in San Francisco. Mar 21 637 Med. Clr Co. leaves on SS Hawaiian Shipper to unknown destination. Mar 23 Booklets were passed out, ’Pocket Guide To New Guinea. Apr 13 637 Med. Clr Co. arrives at Milne Bay, New Guinea. Apr 17 Japs invade China. Apr 20 Herman - Disembark Finschhafen Apr 20 Mail to Harry and Ida Apr 20 Mail to mother and father Apr 21 637 Med. Clr Co. is in Gusika Apr 22 Allies arrive at Aitape and Hollandia in New Guinea Apr 26 Mail to Mother and Father. Apr 29 Mail to Mother and Father. May 1 Letter to brother Izzy May 4 Letter to brother Izzy May 27 Allies invade Biak Islands, New Guinea. May 31 Letter to brother Izzy Jun 5 77 US B-29 Super-fortresses bombers drop bombs on Jap railway in Bangkok, Thailand. Jun 9 Letter to brother Izzy

Jun 13 Letter to brother Izzy Jun 15 US Marines invade Saipan, Mariana Islands. Jun 15 47 B-29 based in Bengal, India bomb Japan mainland at Yawata. Jun 18 Letter to brother Izzy Jun 19 Battle of the Philippine Sea, The Marianas Turkey Shoot. US carrier based planes shoot down 220 Japanese planes while losing only 20. Jul 1 Letter to brother Izzy Jul 8 Japanese withdraw from Imphal. Jul 19 US Marines invade Guam in the Marianas. Jun 22 Cyclone Task Force formed. Jul 24 US Marines invade Tinian. Jul 27 American troops complete the liberation of Guam. Aug 3 US And Chinese troops take Myitkyina after a two-month siege. Aug 8 American troops complete the capture of the Mariana Islands. Aug 27 Mail to Ida about Carol Marker Aug 27 Letter to brother Izzy Sept 15 US Troops invade Morotai and the Palau. Sept 28 Herman applies for paratrooper duty. Oct 11 US air raids against Okinawa. Oct 18 Fourteen B-29s based on the Marianas attack the Japanese base at Truk. Oct 20 US Sixth Army invades Leyte in the Philippines. Oct 23-26 Battle of Leyte Gulf results in a decisive US Naval victory. Oct 25 The first suicide air (Kamikaze) attacks occur against US warships in Leyte Gulf. By the end of the war, Japan will have sent an estimated 2,257 aircraft. “The only weapon I feared in the war,” Adm. Halsey will say later. Nov 9 637 Med. Clr Co. leaves Gusika (7 Months). Nov 11 Iwo Jima bombarded by the US Navy. Nov 17 637 Med. Clr Co. in Sjoriboe Area / Noemfoor. Nov 24 Twenty-four B-29s bomb the Nakajima aircraft factory near Tokyo. Nov 24 Letter to brother Izzy Nov 27 Letter to brother Izzy Dec 15 US Troops invade Mindoro in the Philippines.

Herman’s 1st battle star New Guinea

Dec 5 Letter to brother Izzy Dec 17 The US Army Air Corps begins preparations for dropping the Atomic Bomb by establishing the 509th Composite Group to operate the B-29s that will deliver the bomb. Dec 23 Letter to brother Izzy Dec 26 Letter to brother Izzy Dec 31 637 Med. Clr Co. leaves Sjoriboe Area Noemfoor. TIMELINE 1945

Jan 3 Gen. MacArthur is placed in command of all US ground forces and Adm. Nimitz is placed in command of all naval forces in preparation for planned assaults against Iwo Jima, Okinawa, and Japan. MacArthur says, “Hit ‘em where they ain’t,” by passing large pockets of enemy soldiers and letting them die on the vine. Deny them resupply and let the jungle do its business. This became the Leapfrog plan.

MacAurthur’s Plans

Jan 4 Herman is on a troop ship as part of a large convoy heading to the Philippines. Jan 4 British occupy Akyab in Burma. Jan 9 US Sixth Army invades Lingayen Gulf, Luzon, Philippines. 175,000 troops

Herman’s 2nd battle star Philippines

are landed in a few days. (D-day in Normandy was 156,000 troops.) Jan 11 Air raid against Japanese bases in Indochina by US carrier-based planes. Jan 11 Herman with 637 Med. Clr Co. in Rabon Area / Luzon / Manila. Jan 23 Letter to brother Izzy Jan 28 The Burma road is reopened. Feb 3 US Sixth Army attacks Japanese in Manila. Feb 6 Letter to brother Izzy Feb 12 Letter to brother Izzy Feb 14 637 Med. Clr Co. in Rabon Area / Luzon / Manila. Feb 15 637 Med. Clr Co. in San Jacinto area for rest and recovery. Feb 16 US Troops recapture Bataan in the Philippines. Feb 19 US Marines invade Iwo Jima. Herman Earns 2nd Battle Star - Philippines Feb 20 637 Med. Clr Co. leaves San Jacinto Area. Feb 24 637 Med. Clr Co. in Tagaytay Area / Cavite / Luzon (2 Weeks). Mar 1 A US submarine sinks a Japanese merchant ship loaded with supplies for Allied POWs, resulting in a court martial for the captain of the submarine, since the ship had been granted safe passage by the US Government. Mar 2 US airborne troops recapture Corregidor in the Philippines. Mar 3 US and Filipino troops take Manila Mar 7 637 Med. Clr Co. leaves Tagaytay Area Cavite / Luzon (2 Weeks). Mar 9/10 Fifteen square miles of Tokyo erupts in flames after it is fire-bombed by 279 B-29s. 147

Herman’s 3rd battle star Panay

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Mar 10 US Eighth Army invades Zamboanga Peninsula on Mindanao in the Philippines Mar 19 637 Med. Clr Co. in Oton / Panay Mar 20 637 Med. Clr Co. debarks Oton / Panay Mar 20 British troops liberate Mandalay, Burma. Mar 21 637 Med. Clr Co. in Iloilo / Panay Mar 27 B-29s lay mines in Japan’s Shimonoseki Strait to interrupt shipping. Apr 1 US Tenth Army invades Okinawa. The final amphibious landing of the war. Apr 2 Letter to brother Izzy Apr 7 B-29s fly their first fighter-escorted mission against Japan with P-51 Mustangs based on Iwo Jima. US carrier-based fighters sink the super battleship Yamato and several escort vessels. Apr 12 President Roosevelt dies. Harry S. Truman becomes president Apr 22 Letter to brother Izzy May 8 Victory in Europe Day May 12Letter to brother Izzy May 20 Japanese begin withdrawal from China. May 25Letter to brother Izzy May 25 US Joint Chiefs of Staff approve Operation Olympic, the invasion of Japan, scheduled November 1. Jun 9 Japanese Premier Suzuki announces Japan will not accept unconditional surrender. Jun 16 637 Med. Clr Co. in Bacolod City / Negros. Jun 18 Japanese resistance ends on Mindanao, Philippines. Jun 22 Japanese resistance ends on Okinawa as the US Tenth Army completes its capture.

Jun 28 MacArthur’s headquarters announces the end of all Japanese resistance in the Philippines. Jul 5 Liberation of Philippines declared. Jul 10 1,000 bomber raids against Japan begin. Jul 14 US Naval bombardment of Japanese home islands. Jul 16 Atomic Bomb is successfully tested in the US. Jul 26 Components of the Atomic Bomb “Little Boy” are unloaded at Tinian Island in the South Pacific. July 29 A Japanese submarine sinks the Cruiser Indianapolis resulting in the loss of 881 crewmen. The ship sinks before a radio message can be sent out, leaving survivors adrift for two days. Aug 1 637th Med. Clr Co. Arrives Cebu Aug 6 Atomic Bomb dropped on Hiroshima from a B-29 flown by Col. Paul Tibbets. Aug 8 USSR declares war on Japan, then invades Manchuria. Aug 9 Second Atomic Bomb is dropped on Nagasaki from a B-29 flown by Maj. Charles Sweeney. Emperor Hirohito and Japanese Prime Minister Suzuki then decide to seek an immediate peace with the Allies. Aug 14 Japanese accept unconditional surrender; Gen. MacArthur is appointed to head the occupation forces in Japan. Aug 16 Gen. Wainwright, a POW since May 6, 1942, is released from a POW camp in Manchuria. Aug 27 B-29s drop supplies to Allied POWs in China. Aug 29 The Soviets shoot down a B-29 dropping supplies to POWs in Korea; US Troops land near Tokyo to begin the occupation of Japan. Aug 30 The British reoccupy Hong Kong.

Japan’s domination in the Pacific during WWII

Sept 2 Formal Japanese surrender ceremony on board the USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay as 1,000 carrier-based planes fly overhead; President Truman declares VJ Day Sept 3 The Japanese commander in the Philippines, Gen. Yamashita, surrenders to Gen. Wainwright at Baguio Sept 4 Japanese troops on Wake Island surrender Sept 5 British land in Singapore Sept 8 MacArthur enters Tokyo Sept 9 Japanese in Korea surrender Sept 9 Letter to brother Izzy Sept 13 Japanese in Burma surrender Herman Earns 3rd Battle Star - Southern Philippines. Oct 24 United Nations is born Nov 19 Letter to brother Izzy Dec 3 Robbery at Shooster’s Gas Station in Chester, Pa.

TIMELINE 1946

Jan 2 Herman Arrives at Indiantown Gap Unit A, Pennsylvania, and receives an honorable discharge and separation documents. Herman Shooster TEC -5 Grade 5 equivalent to modern Corporal

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Herman Shooster 1943 Wallet Photo

“I have often given thought wondering how our leaders could cope with such horrendous circumstances.” 150

- Herman Shooster

Herman Shooster 1943 Newly minted soldier

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A SOLDIER’S PERSPECTIVE

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World War II started when I was about 15. I didn’t know much about the previous war, other than some veterans marching past my home during yearly civic parades. The little I did know was that Americans were in no rush to get involved in this one. It was inescapable. By the time the war started, my family’s economic problems had settled down. We owned a couple of gas stations, a few rental properties, and a hamburger stand we affectionatly called, the stand. Eight years younger than my brothers, I grew up at the peak of my father’s career. All of his hard work was paying off. Each day after high school, I’d walk over to the stand. During one of those visits on a cold day, February 1940, I overheard some merchant marines sitting around describing their recent misadventures. One said, “I was torpedoed by a Nazi submarine.” While the other responded, “I was torpedoed two different times!” How anyone could survive that cold North Atlantic water was beyond me, but here they were right in front of my eyes. Sunday, December 7th, 1941, I heard the radio on top of the refrigerator blare; “... WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM FOR A SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN; THE JAPANESE HAVE ATTACKED PEARL HARBOR, HAWAII, BY AIR. WE TAKE YOU NOW TO WASHINGTON, THE DETAILS ARE NOT AVAILABLE, THIS MEANS WAR. COUNTER-ATTACK WILL BEGIN, A DECLARATION OF WAR IS COMING.” I heard it, but I did not believe it, no one did. The announcement kept repeating over and over again, America was officially at war. Prior to this we were following the European conflict. Poland was attacked by Nazi Germany in a blitzkrieg on September 1st, 1939. The Soviets followed on the 17th, attacking from the other side. Both belligerents made a deal to split the spoils. Poland’s allies were appalled, but they were powerless to do anything about it. Our relatives were caught between two world powers. Before the conflict would be over, anti-Semitism would reach its highest and most deadly point in history.

Youthful Herman age 17 1941

May, 1941, in a perverse twist, Hitler double-crossed the Soviets and attacked Russia. Soon, the conflict spilled out onto the whole European theater. The Nazis seemed invincible. Alliances formed. On the one side stood the Axis powers: Germany, Italy, and Japan. On the other The Allies: Great Britain, France, and Russia. It would be a few years before America joined the Allies. France fell. The German war machine set up defenses along the western coast of France eying Britain with malice. Nazi planes started to litter the skies of London, dropping deadly payloads. London was under attack! The outcome looked bleak. We listened intently to the voice of Edward R. Murrow on the radio telling us about the desperation. In the Pacific, the Japanese were invincible too! Islands with exotic names became battlegrounds. The Japs had superiority in the air and on the sea, including a pair of warships that outclassed anything the world had ever seen. Meanwhile, Americans had mixed feelings about the war, but our choices were disappearing. One of Churchill’s bold speeches summed it up. “... we shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France; we shall fight on the seas and the oceans, we shall fight in the air, we shall defend our island whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches; we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.”

The British had a fighting attitude, but without America, they would have had nothing to fight with. America became The Arsenal of Democracy, supplying the Allies with war materials. They were shipped Herman Shooster via boats, the same boats torpedoed by the Nazis, the ones the merchant marines were talking about at Shooster’s Drive-In. After attacking Pearl Harbor, a Japanese Naval Marshal, General Isoroku Yamamoto, is credited with saying, “I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve.” He was talking about America. History proved him right. America declared WAR! We couldn’t do much at first. Our army was ranked 18th in the world. That placed us squarely behind Romania. The first order of business was a retreat. Without our navy projecting might from Pearl Harbor, all of our Pacific

Buck Private Herman Shooster 1943

interests began to collapse. A teary General Douglas MacArthur said it succinctly when he left the Philippines, “I shall return.” In leaving, he was forced to abandon 90,000 soldiers; they were stranded. Most became prisoners of war. Many starved and died. The Japanese were heartless. A few survived, becoming the core of a guerrilla army. American resolve set in. Manufacturing steadily increased. Industry swung into high gear. In the spring of 1941, Congress created The Lend-Lease Act. It was basically a blank check for Great Britain to buy war materials and pay later. The entire world lived in fear. Democracy was on the defensive. The cost was so high that by the end of the war the financial capital of the world transferred from London to New York. And Jews everywhere were on alert to an existential threat. Anti-Semitism was on the rise, only this time, it wasn’t a village or a town but the whole world at stake. If the Nazis won, there would be no safe place left to run. I was too young to join, but after listening day-after-day to the radio, I felt the calling of my nation. So did my peers. To build our army, a draft lottery system was instituted. All young men between the

Buck Private Herman Shooster 1943

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Herman Shooster during 6-day pass, Chester, Pa.

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ages of 18 and 28 were required to register. My brothers, both registered. At 16 I had to wait. The government classified everyone by their health and skills. Some men had jobs the government felt required their presence at home. My brother Izzy fit this category. He was making tanks at the Ford factory. Harry, on the other hand, was rated 4F and deferred for health reasons. He stayed and helped my father. I felt strongly that one of us should represent the Shooster family in the Armed Forces. So, on the day I turned 18, November 29, 1942, I registered for the draft and was classified 1-A, able to serve. Just because I was registered and able did not mean I was drafted. Upon high school graduation, I started college in the fall of that year. My declared major was business administration. I did not have the luxury of going home to study after a full day of college. Practically every off hour you could find me at work, many times ‘til late in the night. Looking back, I think those hours made my grades suffer. Meanwhile, the draft selection continued randomly. Months passed without my activation. I gave up waiting on June 5th, 1943 and volunteered. I knew the decision would break my parent’s hearts. I’m sure it did, but I felt that I had to do it. In the middle of June, I gathered with a large group of young men at the Chester train station. After teary goodbyes, we boarded a troop train headed to Indiantown Gap, Pennsylvania. I was officially inducted on June 19th, 1943. In the process, I was given health exams, intelligence tests, and an army uniform. With the rest of the inductees, we were solemnly sworn into the US Army. My rank was Buck Private, serial number 33-784-220. The first task I was given in the army wasn’t exactly what I had in mind; digging a swimming pool for the officers. The hazing didn’t last long. Within a few weeks, I was sent to Camp Grant, 100 miles north of Chicago, to begin basic training. That was July of 1943. Training was tough, thirteen weeks of brutal exercise and drilling. I was issued a 65-pound backpack, and a carbine rifle. I was taught everything about it. I could take my rifle apart and put it back together again in seconds.

Herman and Dora 1943 during six-day pass

At Camp Grant, we were drilled on taking care of our weapons. “Son, this is your weapon. You will take care of it. You will clean it better than you clean yourself. It will take care of you,” said my Drill Sergeant. My backpack was filled with all the essentials you might imagine I would need in the field: a pup tent, wooden pegs, rope, shovel, mess kits, blanket, emergency food pack, and toilet supplies. Critical attention was paid not only for the supplies themselves, but also to how to pack them. From that point forward, whenever we marched, and wherever we moved, I would carry that heavy load. It was a good thing I was fit. Soldiers not only had to learn to take care of where they lived, but also how they lived. A soldier’s life depends on it. I can’t stress this enough. Throughout world history, during war, far more soldiers die from diseases than

Herman 1943 Photo taken at home on a six-day pass

from fighting. Keeping things clean wasn’t just about military discipline; it had a vital role to play in the health of the entire organization. The jungle could easily take as many lives as the war. Diarrhea and fevers resulted from sloppy maintenance. Skin diseases are the result of poor hygiene. Our barracks had to be spotless; beds buttoned down with precision. Frequent inspections could lead to the whole unit losing a night off. Individual infractions resulted in K.P. duty (kitchen police), peeling potatoes or cleaning latrines. The Army taught us to depend on each other. It was the first time that most of us had to learn to live in close proximity with many, many other men. I became a medical specialist, resulting in endless classes on first aid. I learned how to treat battle wounds in the field, keep wounded men from going into shock, stop the bleeding 155

and prevent infections. I was also taught how to handle broken limbs and give blood plasma with narcotics. The army did a good job in preparing me, but nothing can prepare you for the real thing. Whole books have been written about basic training. An enormous amount of work is forced upon new soldiers in an intense period. All of it is intended to build discipline, strength, and character. One of the most important of these is an instant, unquestioning execution of any legal order. That is what the constant drilling is all about. During basic training, I got letters from my family. Harry started one letter, “Hiya Jerk,” and included a phone bill with the notation, “Do you want to give Mother heart failure?” I guess I was homesick. Basic training came to an end as abruptly as it started and, as a reward, we were given six-day passes. I headed straight for home. That trip took a whole day and night. At home, I could tell my parents were proud but apprehensive. The future was a great unknown. Some now iconic photos were taken, and in the blink of an eye, I found myself back on a troop train heading for Camp Grant. The train was full of other newly minted soldiers just like me. All of them spoke excitedly about their assignments. I was still awaiting mine.

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When I returned, I was called into the main office and informed that because of my scores on the intelligence tests, I had a choice: officers training school or college. I thought, If the Army was willing to send me back to college, why should I fight that? I chose college. Meanwhile, all the men around me started to leave, and before long, the place was empty. My orders finally arrived. In a surprise twist of fate, I was assigned to the 637th Medical Clearing Company Separate, and started intensive training until an outfit training in jungle warfare in Panama was chosen by General MacArthur to spearhead the recapture of the Philippines. They needed a medical attachment. The name of that fighting outfit was the 158th Bushmasters; they were formed in Arizona as a tough-as-nails, racially integrated group that counted Hispanics and American Indians among their ranks. That was the end of my Army sponsored college opportunity. I found myself on another troop train, destination unknown. All I could figure out was that we were heading west. Days went by not knowing where we were going. I slept in a three-compartment hold and stretched when we stopped for meals at Harvey House restaurants strategically placed along the route.

Herman during Basic Training. 1943

The journey was special. from their homes and busiI had never traveled so far or nesses by the irrational fear of in such luxury. We had that a few people in power within compartment all to ourselves. the government. Along the way, I saw people in Regardless of the internthe fields and at the stations ment, or maybe because of just being themselves. Usualit, 20,000 Japanese-Amerily, they would take the time can men and women served to wave. Of course, we waved honorably in the U.S. Army back. Once, I waved to someduring World War II. It one who did not wave back. wasn’t until 1980 that PresStaring more intently, it ident Jimmy Carter opened 158th Bushmasters Patch turned out I was waving at a an investigation to determine scarecrow. whether the decision to put Japanese-AmerWe reached the end of the line, arriving icans into internment camps had been justiin California a few days before I turned 19. fied. The Commission’s report titled Personal Our first stop was an empty Japanese-AmerJustice Denied, found little evidence of disloyican internment camp. We moved in. It was a alty, and concluded that the incarceration had completely fenced in area that was more like been the product of racism, recommending a prison than a barracks. The buildings were that the government pay reparations to the quickly built wooden tar-papered shacks. survivors. In 1988, President Ronald Reagan After the war, I learned that between signed into law the Civil Liberties Act, which 110,000 and 120,000 American citizens of apologized for the internment on behalf of the Japanese heritage suffered an enormous U.S. Government and authorized a payment indignity in those camps. They were torn of $20,000 to each of them.

Herman during Basic Training. 1943

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FORT ORD 1 JAN ‘44 - 9 MAR ‘44

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Jan ‘44, we relocated to Fort Ord, about fifty miles inland between Monterey, Carmel, and Salinas,. I was assigned to Platoon 2. As we were bused through the area, I noticed beautiful towns. Fort Ord was enormous. It consisted of hundreds of sturdy white buildings placed on immaculate grounds. Our job was to keep it that way! You could see the mountains to the east. Frequently, we marched toward them carrying our full backpacks, sometimes sleeping there uncomfortably on the ground. I sent a letter home with my A.P.O. Address; this was the key to sending mail to me. By using the A.P.O., any letters sent to me would be routed to my location. Locations of soldiers are classified during war times. Training, training, training, we were beginning to become automatic just the way the Army liked it, ‘Stop the Bleeding, Treat for Shock, Prevent Infection, Move, Triage.’ Entire days were spent in forced marches with heavy field packs planted on our backs. One day near the end of one of those marches, dying of thirst, I got a meal I’ll never forget. Some kids started throwing tomatoes to the troops as we marched past. I reached up and caught one handily, sunk my teeth into it and absolutely thought I was in heaven! Nothing I had ever eaten has tasted so good. That’s how thirsty I was. Training in the cold mountains was brutal. Sleeping in the rain, we toughed it out. Months went by, training every day. One thing is for certain: we were well-conditioned. During one unforgettable exercise, we were marched out to an area where landmines had been planted. Once assembled a safe distance away our Captain started to shout how to disarm them. I can still hear his booming voice, “When a hard object is detected, first the ground around it needs to be carefully removed to expose the mine. Be very careful while doing this. Often mines planted to destroy vehicles are attached to anti-personnel mines just a few feet away.”

As he yelled those instructions, still probing, he continued, “The idea is to probe the land with your bayonet...” BOOM! The mine detonated and he was killed instantly right before our eyes. We were all shaken. I found out later his wife had traveled to the camp on that same day. DESTINATION CLASSIFIED

March 9th ‘44 we reported to Camp Stoneman, an Army staging camp located in San Francisco. Upon arrival, we were locked down for two weeks. Before long, we found ourselves on board the S.S. Hawaiian Shipper, a converted freighter, destination - classified. Mar. 22nd ‘44, we slipped under the Golden Gate Bridge for points unknown. There was no convoy, just a lone fast ship. Guessing by her name, we all thought we were bound for Hawaii. Staring at the open sea, we couldn’t help but to think about enemy submarines. We kept our eyes peeled collectively. In Feb. ‘42, a Jap submarine attacked the mainland of California, blowing up an oil refinery in Santa Barbara. This was kept secret until after the war. Even though we didn’t know about this incident at the time, we knew danger was lurking. A certain amount of apprehension goes with the knowledge that we were heading toward a war zone, but you get used to it. As anxious as we were, we saw nothing threatening during our four weeks at sea. What we did see, I’ll never forget. At night, in total blackness, with our lights turned off for safety, I laid on the top deck of the ship with a lifejacket as my pillow and was awed by the breathtaking sight of the countless stars above. During the day we would often watch flying fish skim the warm waters or porpoise follow us for hours, skipping in our wake. I met a fellow who became my best friend. His name was Horowitz. No one had first names in the army. Standing by the rail together on that ship, we were in high spirits. As we cruised along he taught me a song:

Drink a Highball by G.B. Brigham https://tinyurl.com/2pvhduma

Drink a highball at nightfall Be good fellows while you may, For tomorrow may bring sorrow So tonight, let’s all be gay, Tell the story of Glory Of Penn-syl-van-I-a, Drink a highball, and be jolly Here’s a toast to dear Old Penn! Two days after sailing on the S.S. Hawaiian Shipper, booklets were passed out: Pocket Guide to New Guinea and the Solomons. I could hardly believe my eyes! i found a copy of the original booklet on eBay in 2012; it is full of information about where we were going, what we could expect once we arrived and some very important advice about the region. The ship was overcrowded, and there was little to do so we all read those booklets from end to end. Onboard, 6,000 troops that had to be fed two times a day. Chow lines seemed endless. By the time you finished one meal, it was time to get back in line for the next. I volunteered to work in the kitchen just to get meals without standing in those long lines. The sleeping quarters were five cots stacked on top of each other. It was so crowded below deck, and the air was so stale that after a while I just took my blanket and slept on the top deck. I carried a lifejacket with me everywhere. About a week before arriving, Atabrine pills were issued, and we started building up our tolerance to the threat of Malaria. 13 Apr. ‘44, Milne Bay, New Guinea. My unit consisting of about 110 soldiers, waited there a few days on the ship. I could see the beach and all the chaotic activity going on below. The enemy was still formidable; its Navy and Air Force were near full strength. The Allied Army was gaining ground, but there was a sense of a long, protracted, bloody war ahead against a tenacious enemy. Victory was certainly not assured.

GUSIKA, NEW GUINEA 21 APR ‘44 - 9 Nov ‘44 - 7 months

21 Apr. ‘44, we were released from the ship and began staging for our first destination near Finschhafen (Finch Harbor). Two 1/2 ton trucks took us to a location midway up the coast to Gauilen, near the shore. I saw a hell of a lot of palm trees along the way, more than I have ever seen in my life. We set up camp and waited.

Pocket Guide to New Guinea and the Solomons, cover and excerpt

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The 637th Clearing Company Medical Separate Platoon 2 - Herman is on the bottom left, colorized.

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Waiting in the Army is a way of life. To pass the time We did many mundane things. Pyramidal tents were pitched as sleeping quarters. Six of us slept in each tent on cots draped with mosquito nets. It was a tent city complete with electric lights. Large tents were set up as hospital wards, consisting of 20 cots to a ward. Our surgical center was set up nearby. Tremendous effort was applied to protect ourselves from malaria and dengue, two killer tropical diseases. Flies caused dengue and mosquitoes caused malaria. Besides requiring every soldier to take Atabrine tablets daily to ameliorate the symptoms of malaria. We walked around the surrounding jungle squirting oil on any pool of water remaining after a rain. We all worked mosquito duty. Mosquitoes could not breed in oil-covered water, just the way the Army liked it. A lister bag was set up for drinking water. Soldiers are trained to never drink untreated water. A lister bag is made of canvas and rests on a tripod. We filled it with water from the stream and then dropped chlorine tablets in and waited a couple of hours. The water was safe to drink but tasted awful.

Our unit had its own cooks. These guys were trained to make food in large quantities. To keep the place sanitary, one of the first things we did was dig a garbage pit. The garbage pit was always surrounded by local people scavenging our leavings. They would tie a string to a can and dip it down into the garbage hoping to get a morsel of food. All of us carried a mess kit. After chow, we would scrape the left-over food into the garbage and dip our mess kit into a 50-gallon oil drum filled with boiling water. Then we would rinse them into another 50-gallon drum of boiling water. It takes time to get used to the natives. They always asked us for work. We would give them our clothing to wash. Every month each soldier got two cartons of cigarettes and a case of beer; this is what we used to pay them. Stationed near the coast, we went swimming in the ocean; it was paradise. Once, while doing a patrol, somebody yelled wild boar! Comically, everybody within earshot tried to climb the nearest tree. We were spit and polish trained soldiers scared of a wild boar. It’s true that they are crazy animals,

when aggravated, with large dangerous tusks, but we were armed and in great shape. I never saw a wild boar that day. I think it was a hoax. Every morning we would wake to reveille. As the trumpet blared, I would quickly prep myself and assemble for roll call. The flag would be formally raised and the officer of the day would talk to us with a Sergeant and a Lieutenant flanking either side. The routine consisted of mission orders, sick call, taking Atabrine pills under the watchful eye of each other, and special assignments. Everyone’s favorite part of the assembly was mail call. We thrived on mail from home. I got letters from mother and Ida, but I kept looking for a letter from Carol Marker. She was the girl I thought of while I was away. Eventually, I did end up getting a letter, but it wasn’t from her, it was from Ida. She said, ‘Sorry to tell you Carol got married.’ Far from home, this left me despondent. Meanwhile, with all the prevention we put into place, I still got deathly sick with Dengue fever. Here I was in a make-shift hospital preparing to help others, lying in bed sick as a dog. I got so sick I had to be evacuated. The recovery was 1-2 weeks. I don’t remember much of this as I was pretty much out of it, but I got better and returned to duty. According to historical medical reports, nine men, of which eight were officers, came down with dengue and one enlisted man came down with Malaria. The one with malaria was hospitalized. That must have been me. I guess I had malaria not dengue. Not long after I returned, I was injured again. This time by an exploding stove. I was sent back the hospital for a second time. We were situated near the enemy; they were just beyond our range. Long guns in the mountains tried to dislodge our men on the nearby ridge. Artillery casualties were sent to us. Those long-range guns rang out throughout the day and night. Our unit had its own perimeter guards. We all shared that task. Each night we walked guard duty. Everyone had to take his turn, two-hour shifts around the clock. If someone approached you were required to say, “Halt, who goes there?”

In May, Platoon 1 shipped off with half of our outfit. I remained with Platoon 2. One day it started to rain. For days on end turning to weeks, it never stopped. We had mud up to our ankles. I remember playing bridge with some guys to pass the time. One game lasted three days and nights! I remember an interesting incident that happened as I was moving through the jungle in full field gear, wearing my helmet, ammunition belt, and rifle. I stepped into a clearing and out of the other side stepped four native boys in G-strings. The oldest was no more than nine or ten. The rest were ranging down to six. All of us were startled. Standing there, looking at each other, I remembered that German missionaries had been to New Guinea about twenty-five years before. To break the tension I spoke to them in Yiddish. Pointing towards each, I counted, “eyns, tsvey…” To my amazement, they finished the count, “drei, funf,” in German. Four stone-age children were speaking words in German! When it wasn’t raining, we had an outdoor movie theater with a makeshift screen. Fallen coconut tree trunks were our seats. The movie always broke several times during the viewing. This caused all kinds of hoots and hollers among the men.

Herman’s Shoulder Patch US Army Pacific Command USARPAC SSI Patch WWII

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Admiral Spruance Art by Howard Koslow, 1984

THE MARIANAS TURKEY SHOOT

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Before my unit arrived in the war zone the Americans turned the tide of the entire war. The Japs were still a very dangerous foe, but the Americans now had the upper hand. June 19th, 1944, The United States scored what ended up being one of the most decisive battles of the Pacific War. It was the largest aircraft carrier battle ever fought. Admiral Ozawa Jisaburo of the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) was tasked to defend the Mariana Islands. He had under his command five fleet carriers, four light carriers, 450 sea-based planes, and 300 land-based planes. Opposing them was Admiral Raymond Spruance of the 5th Fleet, with seven carriers, eight light carriers, and 950 Grumman F6 Hellcat fighter planes. The Grumman was designed to counter the Jap Zeros; it featured a battery of six .50 caliber, Browning, heavy machine guns, heavy armor protection, and self-sealing gas tanks. June 15th, the Americans arrived in force with a flotilla of 500 ships. They softened up

Saipan with hell-fire, a tremendous artillery barrage. Four days later, the Marines stormed the beaches. The terrain was mountainous, and the Japanese were dug into caves. As tough as that battle was, the Americans established a beachhead by the end of the day. June 19th, American radar picked up the approaching IJN fleet 150 miles from their location, and a strike group of 68 planes heading towards them. This gave the Americans ample time for a response. Forty One of Japanese planes were destroyed. One got through and dropped a bomb on the USS South Dakota. A second attack with 107 Japanese planes followed, and they lost all but ten. 9.05 am, the USS Albacore, an American submarine, attacked the aircraft carrier IJN Taiho successfully with torpedoes. 12.20 pm, The USS Cavalla, another American submarine, sunk the IJN Shōkaku. The Japanese sent another 47 enemy aircraft and lost 7. The last attack was a deadly wave of 82 planes. On their return they flew too close to an American airbase and were intercepted, resulting in 73 destroyed. By the end of the day, the Americans lost 30 planes and the Japanese 364.

Premier Hideki Tojo Time Magazine

However, due to poor accounting, the Japanese commanders thought their losses were closer to only 64. Had they known the real losses they may have withdrawn from the area to fight another day. One pilot said, ‘Why, hell, it was just like an old-time turkey shoot down home,’ June 20th, a carrier group commanded by Admiral Mitscher detected the Japanese carrier group at 4.30 pm, and he decided to launch an attack. In doing so, The Americans destroyed IJN Carrier Hiyu along with two oil tanker ships. Additionally, the IJN carriers Zuikaku and Chiyoda were damaged, and another 65 Japanese aircraft were destroyed. Because the IJN was detected so late in the day, the American planes were returning to the safety of the carrier at 8.30 pm. Due to a combination of poor visibility and low fuel the Americans lost 80 aircraft. To assist the pilots, the ship uncharacteristically turned on its lights. Normally, they remained off due to blackout conditions at night. Many pilots missed the carrier or ran out of fuel and had to ditch their aircraft and await rescue. In all, the Americans lost 123 aircraft during the battle. The full engagement became known as The Battle of the Philippines Sea. Japan lost many of its experienced aircrews prior to this battle. Out-gunned, under-experienced and facing superior technology, they lost 3/4’s of their entire air force and all of their most highly-trained crews during this single battle; it crippled their fighting ability. American bravery coupled with their manufacturing ability made sure the Japanese would never again rule the seas or the skies. Without air support, two of the commanders on Saipan, Admiral Nagumo, and General Saito, committed suicide while their forces attacked the American defensive positions with a loss of 26,000 Japanese to 3,500 Americans. The combination of these losses led to the resignation of Premier Hideki Tojo in disgrace. It was the turning point in the war of the Pacific. From this point forward, as bad as the fighting was, America ruled both the seas and the skies.

US Navy photos of the Mariana’s Turkey Shoot. June 19th, 1945

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VOLUNTEERING TO BE A PARATROOPER

28 Sept, ‘44, from time to time, opportunities required quick decision-making. I was told that the paratroopers were looking for medical personnel to dive with them. At the time it seemed like a good idea. My report shows a perfunctory list of health responses, ending with an assessment of my character as “Full and Bounding.” I was 20 years old and in the prime of my health. I felt like I could do anything. By the time my request was received the position was filled. Later, I learned a little joke that is a little more than a joke, “When the Army asks you to volunteer for something, don’t ever do it.” The paratroops deployed and our medical center was ready. There were an unusually high number of injuries. I was one of the guys that helped treat these guys. BOB HOPE NOEMFOOR ‘44 - LOEW’S MALARIA CIRCUIT

In ‘44, comedian Bob Hope visited Noemfoor to entertain the troops. Here is an excerpt: “What a beautiful swamp you have here. It’s a top-secret base. Even the snakes can’t find it. If you wanna hide from your draft board, this is the place to do it.” During this trip, The Gypsies, his entertainment group logged more than 30,000 miles in the South Pacific, giving more than 150 performances on remote backwater islands in places like Eniwetok, Tarawa, Kwajalein, Saipan, and Majuro. Hope called it, “Loewe’s Malaria Circuit” or “The Pineapple Circuit.” At one show, the troupe found out that a Japanese soldier had been killed a few hundred yards from the stage. SJORIBOE AREA / NOEMFOOR 17 NOV 44 - 31 DEC 44, 6 WEEKS

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The army is always in a hurry to wait. Platoon 1 moved to the island of Noemfoor, which is located in the part of New Guinea called The Netherlands East Indies. Nov. 17th we rejoined them, regaining our full strength. During the morning reveille, we were told about a Jap

night raid resulting in the first casualty of our unit. The fellow who died was my friend, Horowitz. That is when I learned his first name, William Horowitz. We were told he got out of his foxhole during the skirmish and was shot. The Sergeant who told us this took the time to use it as a training exercise and drill into our heads, “Never get out of your foxhole in the night. Never ever!” From my experience, it is far more likely my friend was shot by our own troops. After I had returned from the war, I tried to find his family but to no avail. In 2013, my grandson, Jason visited The American Military Cemetery in the Philippines and found his monument. On Jan. 1st, we left Noemfoor in anticipation of the invasion of Luzon. Jan. 2nd, in preparation, the army did a training mission to practice a beach landing. They chose a small island off the coast of New Guinea, called Japan Island, in Geelvick Bay. The exercise turned out to be a comedy of errors. The seas were choppy. The men got seasick. The boats landed on the wrong beach; it was more like a jungle thicket than a beach. We went inland and came to a stream about thirty feet wide. Our Staff Sergeant raised his rifle in the air and yelled, “Follow me!” He then took one step into the stream and disappeared below the surface of the water, I mean all the way, holding his rifle high. The rest of us almost died laughing. The mission was scrubbed, and we returned to the boats. LINGAYEN GULF / LUZON / PHILLIPINES

Jan. 4th, 1945, we became part of the largest invasion force ever assembled; it collected in Lingayen Gulf for the invasion on Jan. 9th. It was given the name S-day and consisted of 15 divisions with 175,000 soldiers. Ships were everywhere. Planes guarded the air. Kamikaze air strikes were harassing our ships. The full force of America was thrown into this battle. General MacArthur was on one of those ships. He was returning just as he foretold. To give you a perspective of the scale of the invasion force, 156,000 Americans stormed the beaches of Normandy during D-Day.

After the battle, in the final tally, the Japanese lost 205,535 troops with only 9,050 prisoners, while the US lost 10,000 troops with 36,550 wounded. Civilian losses were between 120,000 and 140,000. My outfit was scheduled for S-day plus 2, landing two days after the main invasion force. We were attached to the 3rd Portable Hospital supporting the 6th Army with the intention of the liberation of The Philippines. Jan. 11th we arrived on the northern flank of the invasion force. The first wave was south of us battling to capture the city of Manila. The main Japanese force was in the North. I climbed over the side of the ship with myfull field pack and worked my way down the rope ladder into the small LTV (landing craft). As each LTV filled, it moved away from the ship, making room for the next to pull up and continue loading men. Once loaded, we circled forever until all of the LTVs were fully loaded and ready to storm the shore simultaneously. It was a long ride to the beach, at least a couple of miles. We hit the beaches with our full force. They had been cleared of the enemy a couple of days prior. Our small LTVs could not reach the shore. With our full backpacks on we trudged through the surf and

sand. None of us could help getting soaked. On shore, we formed up and marched to an assigned area. Many soldiers passed us heading toward battle. I’m sure some of them came back on stretchers. The fighting was near and heavy. It was my first combat situation. Someone told me that the ship we were on was attacked. A torpedo had cruised right by its bow. There are always rumors in the Army. But, it very well may have been the case. The enemy could have been anywhere. We set up our field hospital, erected tents, and received wounded. Our surgery center consisted of two suitcases on end with a stretcher in-between. I assisted in surgery. By this time, I was a surgical technician. Typically when the infantry invades, they set up an aid station. Soldiers that can’t be sent back into action are picked up by a collecting company, which tries to patch them up; otherwise, they are sent to a clearing company. If they were in bad shape, they would go directly to a portable hospital. We performed emergency surgery for all kinds of wounds. I have vivid memories of trying to resuscitate one guy after everyone gave up. I tried and tried until I also had to give up.

Grandson Jason Shooster with monument of William H. Horowitz, 2013, Plot D, Row 11, Grave 85, Manila American Cemetery, McKinley Road, Fort Bonifacio, Philippines

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Paratrooper Application September 28th, 1944

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I remember tying KIA tags to some bodies that day. My mind wondered while tying those tags thinking how the families back home were going to get terrible news. It only lasted a moment as the sounds of war and the effort going on around me snapped me right back. I still had work to do. Some other guys took the dead bodies and placed them on a litter by some trees. They would be taken care of later. We needed the space for the living. Casualties kept coming. Our surgeons worked around the clock. We had to dig foxholes to sleep. Everyone tried to sleep, but there were night duties as well. We slept when we could. To keep the company safe, we strung wires around the perimeter and attached bells to them. Anyone approaching would set off our signal. I slept fully clothed, rifle always at hand. My helmet was my pillow and my carbine my mate. One morning I awoke to a lot of commotion. It seems that a Jap strapped with dynamite had broken through the lines and attacked an artillery outfit that was active next to us. Somebody shot him, and the explosives he was carrying blew a three-foot hole in the ground. We were safe. Oddly, I hadn’t heard a thing during all of that commotion. I must have been dead tired. I saw terrible things among the wounded. Once, I walked up to a cot with a soldier laying on it, his face covered with a piece of gauze. I lifted the bandage and saw that he had lost half of his face! Everyone around us, including all the Filipinos, were suspect. It took a while to trust any native. We soldiers always had an unfortunate name for the locals wherever we went. We called them Gooks; it was sometimes said as a degrading slur, very unfair, but we all used the term. After a few months of action in Northern Luzon, we moved south through Manila on a truck. I’m not sure what we were doing that day, but the city was said to have been retaken from the Japanese. Indeed, I had seen newspapers proclaiming: 168

MACARTHUR TAKES MANILA

So it seemed, as I rode through streets teeming with people. Hundreds of buildings were leveled. But we felt safe because it was a thriving metropolis. We drove past St. Thomas University; its doors were wide open, signifying freedom. Everyone was in a jubilant mood. The university was once a prison camp for Americans. The further we drove into the city, the fewer and fewer people we saw until finally there were no people, just soldiers with mortars. Mortars are short-range weapons, which meant the enemy was close. Turning a corner, an enormous American tank was coming towards us. I saw bodies of Japanese all over the street. Some of those were giants. That is when I learned one strain of Japanese is very tall. We drove up to a G.I. hiding behind a telephone pole. He looked up and asked, “Are you our replacements?” We were in our khaki shorts as if on a field trip. The headlines obviously did not match the facts on the ground! Our driver stepped on the gas and hightailed it out of there post haste. The following day, another one of our jeeps had business in that area and got a bullet through the windshield. Note - Jan. 11th - Feb. 14th, 1945 - 637th Clr Co is in Rabon Area, Luzon, In Operation. Herman earns his second battle star. TAGAYTAY AREA / CAVITE / LUZON 2 WEEKS - 24 FEB ‘45 - 7 MAR ‘45

Our destination was south of the city in a town called Cavite. We occupied what I think must have been a burned-out school building. I recall that the Japanese had abandoned it so fast that they left food on the table. Nearby was a large lake surrounding a dormant volcano. This would be the scene of my worst experience of the war, a night of unimaginable fear. I don’t know why, but there was a general uneasiness about this place. We couldn’t just occupy it without first making sure it was safe. At one point a group of us had our bayonets out, and we were chopping in the dirt. Someone hit something metallic, and we all hit the

ground as fast as you can blink an eye. The only thought in our collective mind was a booby trap; it wasn’t. After securing the area, we were told the Japs were in a tight vise. Trapped by our forces, they may attempt to escape via the shoreline. All units were set up to prevent that from happening. All of a sudden, I was in the infantry. I walked along the perimeter and saw nothing to report, except shallow graves with beer bottle headstones. During a midnight watch on the waterfront, my eyes were peeled, weapon ready. A small rat crossed my boot, but I didn’t flinch. About two in the morning, all hell broke loose. Guns started firing all over the area. From my vantage point, perched up on a rise in bright moonlight, I could not be seen, but I could not see, either. I saw no target to shoot. If I started shooting, I would surely give away my position. I remained frozen in place. When the firefight was over, I’m not even sure the enemy was ever there. The shooting could easily have been caused by some of our own trigger-happy guys. When I returned from the war, a deep depression took hold of me. After sorting out all the craziness that went on, it was this incident, I believe, that did the most damage. The experience of being unable to release my own anxiety by firing my weapon caused years of damage. The enemy was also within. I remember spending a couple of hours crawling around the floor with a soldier who was suffering a complete disconnection with reality. He thought he was still in battle, avoiding the enemy, throwing hand grenades, pushing me down with him as he hid in his imaginary world. And maybe it was crazy, but I went along with him. I’m not sure if it was just to humor him as I was trying in vain to get him back to his cot. BACOLOD CITY/ NEGROS

16 Jun, ‘44, I don’t know why, but a whole village of Filipinos took me and another soldier and escorted us in dugout canoes to the nearby island of Negros. Here they entertained us

McArthur Takes Manilla Los Angeles Examiner Headlines Oct, 20, 1944

with a feast; it felt like we were being treated like conquering heroes. Nothing we said or did could persuade them that we were just ordinary soldiers. A pig was roasted on an open fire. Banana stalks were cut down and sliced into plates. Every manner of delicacy one could imagine was assembled and set before us. It was an incredible experience. PANAY / ILOILO - JULY ‘45

After Manila was secured, we became part of a force that was sent to invade the island of Panay, south of Manila. During the sea journey, we ran into very heavy seas. Soldiers on our ship were rolling around on the deck seasick. We remained in high seas all night. The Navy staged a violent bombardment of the island to soften up the Japanese defenders. The next morning our landing ship was one of the ones to hit the beach; it opened up its jaws, and we walked right out. Armed to the teeth, we expected resistance. Instead, we were welcomed by girls with armloads of flowers. The Japs had abandoned the island 169 altogether.

We set up in the city of Iloilo (E-lo-E-lo) in another abandoned schoolhouse; it didn’t take long to turn it into a make-shift hospital. Somehow, I became acquainted with a beautiful Spanish girl, and I dated her often. Our dates consisted of quiet walks. Invariably, we were accompanied by her grandmother as a chaperone. She kept ten feet behind us at all times. This girl also dated an Army Captain. One day a jeep sped up the street to the hospital. Abruptly that Captain lunged out and started running up the steps to the entrance. I witnessed this. He got half way up the steps and dropped. Apparently, he was having a heart attack. By the time we got to him it was too late. He died on those steps. My commanding officer, Major Elvin Shelton, and I, acting as his surgical assistant, performed an autopsy on the captain’s body. We determined that he had died from a coronary thrombosis, a blood clot in his coronary artery. It fell to me to notify our mutual friend, the young Spanish girl. Young men in the armed services were not supposed to just drop dead! We were all in great health, or so I thought, until then.

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Transport of Japanese Prisoners 1945

I lived on that island for several months. Once I was selected to escort between 100 - 150 wounded Japanese prisoners of war to Leyte Island. To do so, I had to travel to another island and report to a ship that was docked. The prisoners were in the hold. The sailors thought I was crazy, going down into the hold with the enemy soldiers, but that was my job as a medic. I found these men to be very appreciative of anything I did for them, always bowing to me even from a prone position. In another incident, a Filipino who had been beaten to within an inch of his life with a rubber hose was brought to us. I was told he had been a collaborator for the Japs. After the Americans had taken over, the natives took out all their years of wrath on him. He was almost dead, and it fell to me to take care of him. I remember the conscientious care I gave that man. I felt that I had saved his life; it was not for me to be his judge and jury. CEBU - AUG. ‘45

We were transferred to the central part of the island of Cebu. The common knowledge among the troops was that we were being staged for the invasion of Japan. Heavy casualties were expected. We might have been soldiers, but many of us were still kids. The kid came out of me one day when on an impulse I decided to do something wild and jump on the back of a carabao while it was pulling a wagon. I rode him bareback for a short while, grabbed his horns and yelled. All this was to the utter astonishment of the animal’s keeper. Aug, 6th, ‘45, the first atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima. We were numb trying to understand what this meant. On, Aug, 9th, ‘45, a second atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. Japan capitulated a few days later. Unbelievably, just like that, the war was over! We were jubilant! We would be going home!

That night we broke out the alcohol and got drunk. Drunk, I decided to complete the second one of two resolutions I had made for myself before I got home. I already did the first by riding a carabao. The second was to climb a palm tree. I used to watch the natives of New Guinea scamper right up the trunk. They made it look easy. I decided to do the same. I found a tree, and started climbing. I must have tried five times and never got more than three feet off the ground! I damned near killed myself each time I tried! As soldiers, we accumulated points for our time in the army. The importance of them became evident when consideration was given to go home. I had been overseas for nearly two years. I had a lot of points. I already knew I would probably not be part of an occupying force. The interminable waiting began. Months went by where we felt seemingly forgotten. My ship came in, early December of ‘45. During that time my concentration on the sea, watching and waiting, was so intense that I completely missed my 21st birthday. HOME

Jan. 2, ‘46, I arrived at Indiantown Gap, Unit A, Pennsylvania, the same place I started my army career nearly three years before. Everything was the same but completely different. The war was over. The Allies claimed a worldwide victory. The Nazis were defeated in Europe, Asia, and Africa. The Japs were defeated in the Pacific theater. America rose in status as the Arsenal of Democracy. Our freedom was secure. The Nuclear Age was upon us. It would unfold into a cold war as the world figured out how to get along with these massive weapons of destruction. I didn’t think about any of this. I was tired, elated, and ready to be home and enjoy the simple things like flipping hamburgers and driving around town. I could not wait to see my parents and brothers, and all the changes. I listened carefully to news about my friends. I received an Honorable Discharge and Separation Document, and was on a troop

train heading home. The train pulled into the Chester Station, and I was greeted by my wonderful family: father, mother, brothers, and Harry’s wife, Ida, pregnant with what turned out three weeks later to be twins, Michelle, and Helene. I was the star for a while until the twins stole the show. I earned some campaign ribbons and three combat stars. Nothing sensational. But I am proud of the recognition. None of this compared to the happiness I experienced just being back. America was jubilant beyond description, and I was a free man again! For me, the Army was a prison. In my 2 years and seven months, I had one six-day furlough after basic training. The loss of freedom takes a toll on you. By the time of my separation, I was a highly trained soldier, disappointed that I could not advance further than I did. I also knew I was a good soldier and a valued surgical technician. Most of the non-commissioned officers in my outfit were old Army guys. There were very few opportunities for advancement. My final designation was T-5 Surgical Tech, a Corporal in today’s modern Army. Driving around Chester, I saw flags in windows. Most with a large blue star. The flags signified someone who lived there was serving in the armed forces. Sometimes those blue stars turned to gold, to signify they paid the ultimate price. I was home, alive and well. As I drove around pondering the flags with those blue and gold stars, I felt proud to have done my part. Something was nagging at my mind. It would take about a year before it would surface. I went into the Army when I was 18 and was 21 by the time it was over. I had lived with men in uniform for about three years, all of us young.

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Private Herman Shooster saluting the cameraman. Home on a six-day pass, Oct. 1943

637th Clearing Company, Separate APO 718 1 January 1946 Subject: Quarterly Medical History To: Surgeon, AFWESPAC, APO 707 In closing this last historical report of the 637th Medical Clearing Company Separate, we feel that this unit did its share in preserving the fighting strength of the US Army, and can take some pride in the knowledge that it was done well. Isadore Herman Captain, M.C. Commanding

Herman on the beach in uniform, waiting. 1944 or 1945

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Stephen Shooster - 2012, after searching the Internet looking for my dad’s platoon I found nothing. I complained to the U.S. Historical Medical Corp. They handed me 20 pages of declassified secret documents. While my dad was recieving blood transfusions we went over them. They were signed by his commanding officer, Major Elvin Shelton. We were both astounded. We read them together. Combined with my dad’s recollection, these add a much more comprehensive view of his military experience.

During the exercise I found a few pages missing. I alerted the center and was informed that those pages could not be located; however, they were able to find about 60 additional pages including maps and photos! Christmas, 2015, I located the family of Major Shelton, and shared with them the records signed by their father. In return, they sent me a few photos and their appreciation.

Major Elvin L. Shelton Jr. during the war Courtesy of the Shelton family

Helen Moody, wife of Major Elvin Shelton. As a member of the marching band for the University of Texas. She dressed in this uniform. Due to inclement weather her bus could not drive home after the event. That evening the students went to a dance and wearing this uniform, she met her husband to be.

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Major Elvin L. Shelton Jr. Houston Doctor profile

PROOF 1-3

S E C R E T 637TH CLEARING COMPANY, SEP, LESS 1 FLAT OFFICE OF THE COMMANDING OFFICER APO 704, C/O POSTMASTER, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL

SUBJECT: MEDICAL HISTORY OF THE ORGANIZATION FROM THE PERIOD 1ST JUN ‘44 TO 30TH JUNE ‘44 INCLUSIVE. TO : COMMANDING GENERAL, 6TH ARMY (THRU MED CHANNELS) 1. A. Fort Ord, California: - This organization, at full T/O strength in officers and enlisted men was garrisoned at Fort Ord, California, from 1st Jan ‘44 to 9th Mar ‘44. It was a Separate Company, having been activated on 15th September ‘43 with the personnel of the Clearing Co, 70th Med. Battalion, Nevertheless the unit remained attached to the 70th Med. Bn., which was assigned to 1st Bn, Special Troops, 3rd Corps, for administration and training. During this period, considerable time was devoted to the training of personnel in their individual functions, emphasis being placed on technical subjects and operation in the field. Physical training was rigid and men were in excellent condition. Lectures were frequently conducted on malaria and other tropical diseases. The readiness date for the organization having been set as 21st Feb ‘44, the latter part of the period was devoted to crating, packing, etc. in preparation for shipment overseas. While at Fort Ord, troops were quartered in wooden barracks. Living conditions were excellent, as was the sanitation and food. Morale was high. A dispensary was run by the unit, servicing the medical needs of the 70th Med. Bn. Sick call averaged about 15 per day. No interesting clinical subjects were encountered and all treatments were of the ordinary type. B. Camp Stoneman, California: - 9th Mar ‘44 to the 21st Mar ‘44. On the 9th March ‘44, the organization was moved by buses to Camp Stoneman, California, to be further staged for shipment overseas. Troops were housed in wooden barracks. Sanitary conditions and food were excellent. Time not devoted to receiving equipment and checking Medical Supplies, which were complete and in the best of condition, was spent in rigid training on debarkation nets, obstacle courses and road marches. No important last-minute changes in personnel took place. Men were inoculated against Typhus (epidemic) and Cholera. Medical officers assisted in physical inspections and inoculations of troops being staged. On March 21st ‘44, a US Army river boat was boarded at Pittsburgh, Calif., and, on the same day, the troops boarded the, SS Hawaiian Shipper, at Oakland, California, sailing on the 22nd March ‘44 for what later proved to be Finschaven, New Guinea. C. Aboard the SS Hawaiian Shipper: - 22nd Mar ‘44 to 21st Apr ‘44, Living conditions on board this converted freighter were far from satisfactory. Troops were crowded in a hold with minimum amount of space and ventilation, air was dense and hot. Latrines were unsanitary and inadequate in number, as were the salt-water showers. As a result, skin infections became prevalent, especially epidermophytosis. Four men in the company were hospitalized.

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Continued SECRET

(Medical History Continued)

Fresh water was rationed, food was poor and troops were fed twice a day. Sanitation was insufficient for washing mess gear, causing a minor epidemic of diarrhea among the troops. Recreational facilities were few and morale low. Physical exercise was held a few mornings each week and physical inspections twice a week. One case of early syphilis in the unit was discovered and treatment promptly instituted. Atabrine treatment was initiated seven days prior to debarkation, consisting of one tablet daily for six days of the week, Milne Bay was reached on the 13th Apr ‘44 and the vessel anchored there for six days, after which it proceeded to Finschhafen, New Guinea. The organization debarked at said place on the 21st Apr. ‘44. All equipment, medical and individual, arrived complete and in excellent condition. One enlisted man was evacuated the day after arrival because of an acute psychosis. After remaining at a staging area in Finschhafen for a few days, the organization was given a camp site at Guailen a few miles north. D. Guailen, New Guinea - The camp site area, having been previously occupied and neglected, was in a filthy condition. In addition, since the site was close to the shore, there was a great prevalence of Aades Sartalarins, a common vector of Dengue. The first week was devoted to cleaning up the area, combating the fly and mosquito menace, building sanitary structures and checking equipment. Men were acclimatized and failure to observe individual protective measures against Malaria and other tropical diseases was subject to disciplinary action. Nevertheless nine men, eight of which were officers, came down with Dengue. One was hospitalized for malaria. (Based on this report, Herman had Malaria, not Dengue since he was the only fellow hospitalized) Troops lived in pyramidal tents furnished with electric lights. Food was excellent. Mail service was good and morale improved. On the 10th May ‘44, the organization consisted of 13 officers and 103 enlisted men. No important changes occurred in the personnel. Medical services were furnished by a base dispensary and the organization was engaged in some training in the use of carbines. On the 14th May ‘44, in accordance with Movement Order Hq Sixth Army dated 12th May ‘44, The 637th Clearing Co. Sept. less 1 Platoon, the other as the 2nd Platoon. 637th Clearing Co, Sept. The 1st Platoon consisted of seven officers including the CO and 55 enlisted men. On the same day the 1st Platoon was moved to a beach approximately four miles north of Guailen. On the 15th of May the 1st Platoon including all of its equipment was moved by LCHs or LSTs to Finschhafen. The 1st Platoon was staged and assigned to the 159th RGT (regiment) a part of the Tornado Task Force. On the 17th May ‘44 the unit boarded the Stephen G. Porter and sailed for its first combat mission. Sanitary conditions aboard the Porter were very poor. Toilet facilities and food were inadequate. Troops and equipment were exposed to the rain and morale was low.

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E. Waiate -- “ Sared Area” – 22nd May ‘44 to the 27th June ‘44. After 5 days sailing up the New Guinea coast, the unit landed at Toem, Dutch New Guinea, where it set up and bivouacked for two days. On the 24th, May ‘44 this organization set up ready to operate beside the 54th Evacuation Hospital, which was receiving more patients than its bed capacity allowed. The first patient entered our ward 25th, May ‘44. The bed capacity of our unit was 100, arranged 20 to a ward tent. Five wards were set up in addition to the dispensary, dental clinic, and minor surgical clinic. The 54th Evac Hosp admitted patients and sent only medical patients to our hospital.

Continued SECRET (Medical History, Continued) All evacuations of casualties was accomplished through the 54th Evac Hospital. On the 18th of June ‘44, the unit began making out its own medical records; However, all patients continued to come through the 54th Evac Hospital. The types of diseases treated, in the order of their prevalence, were; Dengue fever, Malaria, Diarrhea, Dysentery (type undetermined), skin infections, especially impetigo Builosa, exhaustion from over-exertion, gastroenteritis, otis media (traumatic), psychoneurosis (anxiety type, 2 men), nasepheryngitis, and minor orthopedic disturbance. Some dental cases were treated. A few men were treated in the dispensary. The minor surgical procedures consisted of incision, drainage and the removal of shrapnel fragments, the majority of which were caused by hand grenades. There were no fatalities. Scrub Typhus was diagnosed clinically in two cases, both of which recovered. Total number of psychoneurosis treated: two. The Pltn. was bivouacked in a coconut grove, which was clean and almost devoid of mosquitoes. The men were quartered in pyramidal tents, six men to a tent. Rations consisted of B and C, and fresh meat once a week. Food was well-prepared, sufficient in quantity, and the state of nutrition of the command was good. There was a mild outbreak of diarrhea among the command, which was controlled by cutting down the number of flies and stricter observance of washing of mess gear. Atabrine was taken by roster, the plan being 5 tablets twice a week. The morale of the command was good. Mail was received regularly. Recreational facilities including a radio, and movies were available. One enlisted man was killed in action on the 30th of May ‘44 as a result of a Japanese night raid near the hospital area. (Note - The soldier who was killed was Herman’s friend, William Horowitz.) There were no important changes in personnel. On the 26th June ‘44, our unit was cleared of all patients, said patients being transferred to the 54th Evac Hosp, and our unit was assigned another mission as part of the Cyclone Task Force. On the 27th June ‘44, the unit boarded LST 457, and on the 30th June ‘44, was en-route for Noemfoor Island. Strength of the unit was 7 officers and 53 enlisted men, another enlisted man being evacuated at Toem due to an unclassified psychosis. Medical supplies were complete and in fair condition. Morale was good. 2. No pictures or maps are available at this time to enclose with this report.

Unknown soldier with Major Elvin Shelton and a monkey on his back.

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Letter of Commendartion for the 158th Bushmasters. Feb. 6th, 1945

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Herman Shooster T-5 Medical Tech. SS# 33 78 220

US Army Pacific Theater Operations Distinguished Unit Badge

World War II Victory Medal

T-5 Specialist

New Guinea Southern Philippines Luzon

The Asiatic Pacific Campaign Medal

The Philippines Liberation Ribbon

Good Conduct Medal

Herman Shooster - Three Battle Stars - 637 Medical Clearing Company, Separate - 503rd Medical Detachment

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Honerable Discharge - Jan. 2nd, 1946 Herman Shooster 33-784-220 Technician 5th grade

Report of Separation Jan. 2nd, 1946

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The War is Over Frank and Harry Shooster hold a newspaper in front of Shooster’s Drive-In Chester, Pennsylvania Dec. 3rd, 1945

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A Toast to Loved Ones Left to right, Unknown, Unknown, Benzy Shuster Note: The Men are Wearing Polish uniforms. Lutzk, Russia, 1940?

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DEATH CAMPS

As the war came to a conclusion, the discovery of death camps came to light. By the time the smoke cleared 6 million Jews killed, echos through time. Everyone was in denial at first. To ensure denial would not take a hold on history, our generals made sure that everyone nearby toured the camps, saw the dead bodies, helped clean up and document the findings. Mass murder on an industrial scale was something never before seen in world history. The term Holocaust did not appear until the 1950’s. The Jews refer to it, solomley, as The Shoah. Dora’s step-brother, Isaac Chomut (Isaac Emmett), was found alive in a displaced person’s camp along with his wife, Rose, and two children, Luba and Michael. Michael was born at the camp. Isaac’s testimony can be found in Yad Vashem. Luba (Laura Oberlander) story is in a book called Brisko (2014). To gain American citizenship, my parents elected to sponsor Isaac and his family. Attached to the form was an audit of Frank Shooster & Sons (1946). The application was approved. Upon arrival, they stayed at Dora’s brother, Benjamin’s, until they could afford their own place.

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Family Killed in the Holocaust: Mirium Chomut Sarah Chomut Elek Chomut (male) (Sept, 1942) Bailon (female) - Married with 2 kids Yenta - cousin Benzy Shuster and Family Family Survived: Riva Chomut Schechman - Isreal 1930’s Nachamah Chomut - Isreal 1930’s Isaac Chomut-Emmett Rose Chomut-Emmett Luba (Laura) Chomut Oberlander Micheal Emmett Family Immigrated prior to War: Benjamin Baruch Chomut/Emmett (1905?) Mary Shuster Lesnick (1905) Frank Shuster / Shooster (1908) Dora Chomut / Shooster (1910) Died prior to the war: Mikel and Devorah Chomut Unknown cause of Death: Baruch and Sara Shuster

The Chomut Family, Perle and Isaak, Riva and Nechuma emigrated to Israel before the war. grandparents Mikel and Devorah died before the war.

SUMMARY OF TESTIMONY OF ISSAC EMMETT

1948, Step-brother of Dora Chomut/ Shooster. Issac Emment [Icek Chomut] survived with three family members, wife - Rose, daughter - Luba, son - Michael. Background: The Chomut family is from Tuchin. Tuchin changed nations between Russia, Poland, and Germany. 1939, Tuchin pop. 5K Jews 1939, nearby Rivne (25 km) pop. 25K Jews. Closest train station to Tuchin - 100 miles. Issac and the family knew that the Nazis were destroying synagogues in the West. The family had no idea the Nazis intended to kill all of the Jews. Most of the Ukrainians were aligned with the Nazis against the Jews. Aug. 23, 1939 - Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact - Nazi Germany and Russian agree to splits Poland. Sept. 01, 1939 - WW2 starts with the attack of Germany on Poland. Sept. 29, 1939 - Tuchin becomes Russian. July 4, 1941 - The Nazis bomb Tuchin with heavy artillery. Nazi soldiers marched into town and start looting Jewish homes. Large divisions of Nazi soldiers march past the town heading toward the Eastern front with Russia. Tuchin becomes part of Nazi Germany.

July 13, 1941 Ukrainian Police demand everything from the Jews, except: One outfit of clothing; underclothes; one pillow; one blanket; one pair of shoes; one table per house; one Isaac Chomut / Emmett chair; one bucket; and one chest. Anyone found with more, the punishment would be death. July 20, 1941 - Shabbat, Ukrainian Police organize a pogrom. 25 Jews killed, including men, women, and children. Issac’s wife, Rose, and smallest child, Luba(7), are severely injured.Rose had her skull kicked, left eye swollen shut, body badly bruised. Luba was barely conscious. She was paralyzed on her left side with a concussion and could not talk. Issac could not summon a doctor. The murders are still on the street. July 21, 1941 - Sunrise - Issac found a doctor. Wrapped Rose’s head with bandages. Luba had a blood clot in her brain needing complete rest. No medicine, just water. Ukrainians Police order all bodies to be buried within two hours. No one was allowed to say that there was a pogrom. Doctors helping the wounded would be killed proclaimed. July 22, 1941 Evening - Ukrainian Police started to kill remaining Jews. Issac left with his injured family before they came.

July 7, 1941 - Ukrainian Chief of Police, Prokope Polishchuke (age 22) summons all Jews to register at the police station.

July 26, 1941 - Luba said ‘Daddy.’ Her first words since her injury. Rosa was becoming blind in the left eye.

July 9, 1941 - Ukrainian Police demand coats, minks, Persians, sheepskins from the Jews.

July 26, 1941 -3 PM Three Gestapo officers arrive in Tuchin. They summon 20 of the richest and most intelligent Jews from the town. Issac’s wife’s brother, Freidel Gletchstein, married with a three-year-old daughter, was one of them. All of them were killed. The Ukrainian orchestra played as they were being killed.

July 11, 1941 - Ukrainian Police demand gold, silver, copper, nickel, including the handles from the doors and windows from the Jews.

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Sept. 21, 1941 -Erev Rosh Hashana Orders to sew yellow round patches on clothing, one on the front, one on back. Soon after - Issac was summoned for work. While at Hannah Chomut (8) work he was kicked and beaten senseless. Unconscious, he awoke an hour later and got beaten again. He got kicked under the heart, and between the legs. The beating only stopped with the promise of some good boot leather. October 26, 1941 - Rivne, near a park called Grabnick, a mass grave was dug. October 29, 1941 Morning - Rivne. All Jews without working papers were told to report to the center of town. 20,000 men, women, and children reported. They were ordered to place all their possessions in one spot. Then ordered to place all their jewelry, rings, and watches in another pile. Then to lay all their passports and papers down. Last they were ordered to remove their coats and clothing. This last order led to bedlam. Nazi SS soldiers wearing white gloves waited with machine guns. The Jews were gunned down. The Ukrainians threw them in the graves. Some of the victims were not dead, but they threw them in, too. The bodies were covered with dirt. 4000 - 5000 survivors were placed in a ghetto.

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Aug. 9, 1942 - Rivne. Jewish survivers killed Sunday, Sept. 20, 1942 - 4 days before Yom Kippur - Jews in the countryside were told that we had until Sept 21 to be in the ghetto. Any Jews found outside the ghetto would be killed. On the same day the wife of the school principal, Mrs. Lamatchuk, (50 child-less) a Czechoslovakian, brought an order to the home Issac built that he had to evacuate immediately and move to the ghetto. She was expected to move in that day. That same woman (50, childless) said to Issac perhaps she should keep his daughter Hannah!

Aug. 14, 1942 - Town entrances are guarded by Ukrainians. No one is allowed in or out. The ghetto gate was still open. Aug. 16, 1942 - Early Sunday morning - Issac, Rose, Hannah, and Luba tried to escape the ghetto. The plan was to go to Pavlo Gerashenchuk’s farm, in Choopkov (4 km). A creek blocked the way. The nearby bridge was guarded. Ten small farmers’ children (6-10) stopped Issac and his family. Issac paid them to help them cross. They kept hounding him and his family for money. He kept paying them. His two children understood everything and were scared to death. When there was no more money the young boys reported them to the guards. Issac and his family ran, but they were caught and beaten. An SS man on a motorcycle stumbled upon them being beaten. Crying, Issac said he was trying to give his eldest daughter away to a farmer because they have no food. The SS man said, “Did you read the order which said that anyone leaving town would be killed.” Unbelievably, he stopped the beating and told them to go back to the ghetto. Instead they went to his mother‑in‑law’s house. They were all in shock upon arrival. Kol Nidre, Sept. 20, 1942 - Issacc and family went to the synagogue. Everybody, men, women, and children, cried with their last strength. They prayed to God to save our lives, at least the lives of our small, innocent, children. This would be their last Kol Nidre in Tuchin. Two or three big graves were being dug near the town on the way to the village Roochite. Issac and Rose give their daughter Hannah(11) to the Lamatchike Family. 10:00 am, The Nazis order gold, watches, leather for boots, and new suits to be delivered by 12 the same day or 100 Jews will be taken. The materials are delivered in time. Noted family in the ghetto: Pearl (Issac’s wife); Luba (daughter); Miriam(Issac’s sister), Yudel Snyder (husband of sister), Yentel (18, Miriam’s daughter); Sarah (28, Issac sister -unmarried); Elek (25, Issac’s brother); many uncles, aunts, and cousins; Dovaree (58, Pearl’s mother); Sarah (23, Pearl’s sister); Ester

(Friedel’s wife, Friedel was murdered July 26, 1941); child(3, Ester’s child); and many others. Pavlo Gerashenchuk (Ukrainian farmer) came to the open ghetto and took Luba and Rose with him to his farm. Eventually, he and his family will become righteous Among Nations for their actions in saving them. Vasil Ritcordubsky, Ukrainian farmer,t ook Issac’s brother Elek, stole everything, and killed him. Sept. 21, 1942, 5:00 AM - ( the next day) The destruction of the Tuchin ghetto begins. Sept. 21, 1942, 8:00 AM - Issac jumps over the ghetto fence and ran as shots were fired towards him. He found a hiding spot that allowed him to see the ghetto being destroyed. The Jews set the ghetto on fire. Of the 4,000 Jews, about 2,000 escape. 100 killed running. Issac, with the help of Hannah, hid under the stairs inside his home. Hannah gave him food. Sept. 24, 1942, Early Morning - 1000 Jews marched to the graves and were killed. Sept. 24, 1942 - Issac walks to Pavlo’s farm in Chooblex. He meets his wife and daughter. They were alive, living inside a haystack. Pavlo brought them all food and water, without his family knowing. All three remain hidden in the haystack for the next 18 months! Sept. 25, 1942, 10:00 AM - 130 Jews were about to be murdered when an order from SS said all surviving Jews would be saved from death. Friday, October 2, 1942, 5 AM - 300 Jews returned to Tuchin. They were directed to the cemetery and killed. Sunday, October 4, 1942 - Announcement All Jews who return to town will not be killed. Tuesday, October 13, 1942 - Jews were surrounded, taken to the cemetery, and killed. October 15, 1942 - Announcement - All Jews who return to town will not be killed.

Hannah, grandmother Devorah, Rosa (back), Luba (Laura)

November 4, 1942 - Jews were taken to the cemetery and killed. Hannah (11) was murdered. The principles wife got scared cause she was harboring a Jew under penalty of death. She sent Hannah out on her own. Meanwhile, under the haystack: They used a chamber pot. Issac emptied it at night every few days. They were surrounded by mice and lice. They got used to both. Pavlo’s dog ‘Brisko’ becomes the alarm when people are coming. Issac and his family spend the full days every day for months picking lice off their bodies daily. They picked thousands off of them every day! While under the haystack Issac noted they did not get sick or lose hope. Their clothing was never washed. They were never washed. They ate sparsely. They were always hungry and thirsty. Mostly they ate, potatoes, including the skin with the dirt. They lost almost half their body weight. Feet were swollen. When they crawled out to the 189

barn about every month or two, they could not open their eyes. The sun was too bright. They could not walk on their feet. They had to crawl. There were many small mice in the haystack. They learned to live with them. They had to hold their food tightly so the mice would not steal it. Many many times, days would pass without food or water, even in the hottest weather. Remarkable incidents while hiding in the barn: 1. The Stepan Bandera and The Ukrainian Partisans, used the barn Issac and family were sleeping in, periodically for ammunition storage. They hated both the Nazis and hte Russians. If the arms were discovered Pavlo would have been killed with his family. 2. Nazi SS soldiers came with a big truck to pick up hay for their horses. No one was home. They opened the barn and started taking hay from the haystack Issac and family were buried under. At the last minute, Pavlo arrived and said, “Why are you taking that dirty old hay? I have much better hay for your horses.” He then took them to another barn. 3.As the Germans started retreating from the front. They dug bunkers around the barn for their ammunition and made Pavlo’s house headquarters. For twelve days, 15-20 SS Nazis slept in the barn on the hay above Issac and family. They could hear every word. When one of them smoked a cigar, they could hear him inhale. The whole time, they were starving and thirsty because Pavlo could not bring them food. After they left the whole area became a battleground. All the residents left the area to hide in the forest, including Pavlo and his family. The area was deserted. Day and night, bombs exploded and bullets whistled. All around them, things were burning. It was a miracle that the barn did not burn.

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February 15, 1944, liberated by the Russian army. They continued to hide. The Ukrainians were still killing Jews after the Russian liberation. Issac and family had to learn how

to walk again. They crawled out of the hole. Pavlo and his loving family did not expect one cent from them. He gave them food and clothes. He gave Rose her gold watch back. Issac and family went back to Tuchin (4km). 12 Jews survived. They were housed next to the Russian police station. Ukrainian bandits came to kill them. The Russians caught them and took their ammunition. 8 days in Tuchin, Rose and Luba becme sick with Typhus. They were in critical condition with a high fever. The Russians start mobilizing troops. They took Issac. March 20, 1944, Issac was mobilized into the Russian army and sent to Rivne. Issac was sent far away to Branskt. The name of the troop was “Polkovnik Polk.” He was trained to shoot a gun and throw a hand grenade. Training was eight weeks. Snow was up to their knees. They were planning on being at the battlefront in Poland with Germany. Russian Orders - Everyone born in the year he wrote on his papers would not go to the front. His prior documents were destroyed. When he made new docs he said he was 5 years older than he was. Issac was sent to Stalingrad. He became a “magaziner,” the clerk manager who distributes goods to different factories. He got a leave of absence to go home. It was for 10 days. This was the most one could get. The ride back and forth took more than ten days because transportation was poor. He was home for 3 days with his wife and child walking on the street when he was asked for his identification and arrested. The punishment would be 8 years in jail. He was brought to the NKVD for punishment. Rose was friends with the head of the NKVD. She invited him to a party with baked duck, liqueur, and vodka. During the party, she asked if her husband could sleep at home and then return the next morning. It was granted. That night the three of them escaped to Rovnah and got on a train to Chelem. At one point they got off the train to rest and a squadron of German troops bombed it. The main battlefront was in Warsaw. Issac and family stayed in Chelem for six months and then moved to Łódź.

1948 Individual Assurances for Relatives

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A few days before Rosh Hashana, 1945, they went to Austria. They were helped by the Baricha, an Israeli group that helped refugees move from one country to another. They were given Greek papers. They crossed the border at night by foot. The people at the borders had already been paid to let them through. The traveling was especially hard for Rose because she was eight months pregnant with son Michael. In Austria, they took them to a camp called Trofiach which was near the town of Gratz. The camp was in the English boundary of Austria. They got to the American boundary. Rose was nine months pregnant. They went to a displaced person camp in the American zone of Bidenmichel, near Lintz. October 29, 1945, Micheal Chomut (Emmett) was born. He was the first child was born in the Bidenmichel camp. They stayed in the camp for over three years.

Luba (Laura) Emmett-Oberlander, Michael Chomut Emmett, Rose Chomut Emmett

October of 1948, they began moving toward America. --January of 1949 they arrived in America. Sponsored by Frank and Dora Shooster. Luba (Laura Oberlander) went to Simon Gratz High School. The only relatives left from my immediate family are two sisters, Nechuma and Rivka. They live with their families in our Jewish land of Israel. Video of Pavo Gerasimchik https://youtu.be/TXhWcUy0nUs

Video of Laura Overlander https://youtu.be/ivx7qprlbB8

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Unknown, Yoski and Dora’s Aunt Baila,

Lyubov Gerasimchik with his family. Righteous Among Nations

Dora’s Aunt Surka with her friends

Benzy Shuster (left) with two unknown soldiers circa 1939, Note: Wearing Polish uniforms.

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BACK HOME

Chester Times News, Dec 3rd, 1945

Shooster’s .35 cent hamburger back home

Shooster’s Drive-In Staff 194

THE AFTERMATH OF WAR

Herman Shooster On vacation to the Bahamas 1950

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THE AFTERMATH

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The war was over, and the economy was in full swing. Rationing was still in place. Cars lined up at our station for two gallons of fuel. That didn’t get them too far. They got 6-10 miles to the gallon in the late 1940’s. The war took its toll on everyone. Just as my brother, Izzy, predicted, I returned to the same street, but it was a different world. My parents had aged, too. It took me months to readjust to civilian life. One of the habits I picked up in the Army was the persistent use of profanity in just about every sentence. Learning to stop was no easy task. Enrolled in Temple University, I got back on track with my education. I no longer yearned to be a doctor. Truth be told, I may not have been a good enough student. I decided to pursue a fresh start with a Bachelor of Science Degree, in Marketing. The program included courses in marketing, advertising, statistics, logic and my favorite, English. With a full load of classes, I also worked full time. One of the places I worked at was The American Baptist Publishing Company, wrapping packages. I also worked at the family business. I‘m sure I must have clocked 30-40 hours each week besides whatever I did for school. With the war over, surrounded by a jubilant America, it took some time before I realized that I developed a severe case of depression. During those years it was taboo to visit a psychiatrist. The truth is I worked those extra jobs to have some money to pay the doctors without alerting my parents. I just couldn’t seem to stop the roller coaster of depression I was going through. I needed help. My problem was sublime. How do you describe a feeling? Anyone who has ever faced severe depression would undoubtedly understand how dangerous and overarching this disease can be; it can affect your entire world view. At one point I could not even go to a

restaurant and order a simple meal! Once I just stayed home for three full days and nights, unable to leave my home or cope with ordinary things. It didn’t help that I kept this a secret from dad, feeling somewhat ashamed. Eventually, I was hospitalized. The prescribed treatment a series of electric shocks. After several treatments, I temporarily lost a great deal of my short-term memory. It seemed to help at the time, but, in retrospect, I do not think I helped myself much with this course of action. After my fifth treatment, about five years after leaving the army, I took the time to express what I thought was the reason for my depression. Once you read it, I think you will agree. I tucked this away in the locked drawer of my office desk for the rest of my life. (pages 200-220) After the hospital treatments, I stopped seeing the doctor for quite a while. I was cured, but eventually, the feelings returned, and I just could not break the cycle. I found another psychiatrist who set me straight for the rest of my life. His name was Doctor Sadwin. With his care, I was offered a choice: prolonged psychotherapy, a kind of talk therapy, or a new medicine recently available, called Imipramine; it was the first of the drugs released to target control of serotonin in the brain. This drug was my savior. My depression gradually subsided. I remained on that medicine every day for the rest of my life. As the drug came to be more refined, I eventually switched to Prozac; it conquered my depression, and I was ready to move forward. During that time, I did some dating. Among my prospects, I continued to correspond for a while with the beautiful Spanish girl I met in the islands. Her handwriting was magnificent; every single letter was a work of art. At some point, the letters stopped. After waiting several months, I wrote her sister to find out that she had died. I have no idea why. I usually dated girls from Philadelphia or Wilmington, rarely my hometown of Chester; however, I did have one girlfriend in Chester who, were we both older, I might have married. Her name was Ruth Grotsky. I also had a few girlfriends while I was

growing up. The first was Evelyn Boyle. I worshiped her from the time I was about thirteen until I was sixteen. I thought I was truly in love. That’s when I fell in love with another girl who worked as a car-hop at Shooster’s. Her name was Carol Marker. I never told any of these girls about my feelings. I am not sure if I was afraid, or maybe I just did not have enough self-confidence. As much as I liked Carol, I only took her out once or twice. Ruth married one of her college professors, and Carol married a victim of the war who became a quadriplegic. My brother’s wife, Ida, passed the news to me in a letter during the war. She was the girl I thought of while I was far away. I think both Ruth and Evelyn died young. My best friend during those college years

was Marty Shulman. Marty lived in Philadelphia where he worked with his father and brother, Harry, running a small a trucking company called Schulman Trucking. Marty and I rented an apartment in the late 40’s. That is where we took dates to hang out. In 1949, I graduated from Temple. I remember the conversation I had with my father about what I should do next. He wisely set me up with Melvin Feinberg, a local real estate broker. It was his way of suggesting a life in real estate. America was booming. The Great Depression was over. I earned a college degree; kept working; the family was growing; everything seemed like it was going to be just fine. In a couple of years, my life would change forever.

Caption: Watch the hand puhleeze, Herman late 1940’s

Caption: Take off those glasses - too late. Herman with friends late 1940’s

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EVENTS THAT MADE ME THE MAN YOU KNOW ME TO BE

by Herman Shooster 1949

Herman Shooster apx. 1950

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* Note: pages 1 + 2 are missing

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Close-Up of Medical Treatment during WW2 Papua, New Guinea

Medical Treatment during WW2 Papua, New Guinea

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FRANK SHOOSTER, SR. 1893 - MARCH 2ND, 1950

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Frank Shooster Sr.

THE SON OF A SHOEMAKER

HERMAN’S DIARY EXCERPT

Herman Shooster - 1948, my father was diagnosed with prostate cancer. We knew he could not survive for long. The whole family was heartbroken. The survival rate for prostate cancer during those years was bleak. He must have known it, too. We never discussed this together. Our home became a living morgue. We were all walking around devastated. Mother was crestfallen. He was her life and our guiding light. It was a bleak time in all our lives. He didn’t go down without a fight. He had surgery. The surgeon was the eminent Boland Hughes, M.D., the senior urologist at the University of Pennsylvania. Dr. Hughes, was a ward surgeon at St. Hedwig’s Hospital, in Berlin, Germany from 1929 to 1935. As such, he was well spoken on the plight of the Jews, and in 1959 was given a humanitarian award for his outstanding service in medicine and social research. The surgery went well, but my father died soon after due to a complication: a blood clot in his leg. No one knew how dangerous that was at the time and, even if we did, there was not much that could be done about it. It must have broken loose in his bloodstream and traveled to his heart and lungs. His death was instantaneous. My father’s passing was probably the biggest shock I have ever experienced. I’ll never forget the night he died. I was leaving a night club. My car was parked in an adjacent lot. I pulled out and, for some unknown reason, I stopped awkwardly. It was about 1 am. A strange prophetic pause overcame me. My car straddled the sidewalk while my mind was elsewhere. I snapped out of it and went home. The phone rang. My father died at just about that same moment, March, 2nd, 1950. He was only 57 years old. Hardly a day has passed in all the years since he passed where I have not thought of him. There are no words to describe the void. No way to explain the hurt. His death was probably the most horrendous event any of us in the family had ever experienced. We loved him so!

Herman Shooster - I wish you could have met my father. You would have found he was a pleasant fellow with a driving ambition. How he succeeded gives me much reason for pause. It was uncanny, regardless of events, he always had a friendly smile. Everyone who got to know him found he was warm and friendly, but never intruding. He earned respect and appreciation by showing genuine care for everyone: family, friends, and the larger community. It is his values that I draw upon when I think about how to take care of customers today. My future wife, Dorothy, never got to know him. I met her in 1952 a few years after he passed. She did, however, get to know Mother. Once her mother asked her about my mother, and she said, “She is a dear little elderly lady in her 50’s.” At the time of this writing, I am 88 years old. Those were different times. People aged faster back then. When my dad passed away, I was in my early thirties, too young to grasp or understand the responsibilities of keeping a family in food, shelter, and safety. I would have to learn on my own. I miss you Pop. I miss your smile and your gentle touch.

A rare candid photo of Frank Shooster Sr.

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My Dad - Herman Shooster, page 1

MY DAD Herman Shooster speaking of Frank Shooster Son of Jewish People - Jewish parents.

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Father - Protective, kindly, a rival, prone to vanity at his accomplishments, started at the bottom, courageous in business, business acumen, no close friends but many friendships, well-liked, employees revered him, dominant, self-assured and confident, tending to think himself always right, ordinary prejudices but these did not interfere with his benevolent and kindly attitude to all peoples, desired to be and accepted as one whose business judgment was worth seeking out.

Overall picture - Kind, protective, fatherly to all who would permit him to be, courageous, honest, persevering, proud, tender, easy to love. Independent as all hell. Primary Interests - Family, Business, World Affairs, friends and their affairs, helping people with advice and money. Apparent fears - Health and death, fears for family and intimate concern with how they were conducting their affairs, heavy debts. Pastime Pleasures - Actively conducted affairs of small Jewish merchants using club of which he was the president for some 20 years.

My Dad - Herman Shooster, page 2

Movies - Which he almost always attended alone once each week. Yearly two-week vacation, which he usually took alone. Seemed to have mechanical aptitude - Liked fixing things. Reading - Primarily Jewish paper, Daily paper, World Affairs section of the New York Times. Apparent Hopes - Family solidarity, financial security, desire always to have his three sons in business together. Desired for me to be a doctor - this desire was not as strong as Mother.

Spiritual - Never knew him to attend synagogue, but severe pride in his Judaism (the group or class as distinguished from other groups or classes), seemed not to subscribe to any of Judaism’s rituals. Judaism to him was his hatrack — but very strong, intensive. He believed in God, often making unconscious reference to God, but abandonment of his spirit to God was too difficult for his independent nature. He could not freely, openly declare his love and dependence on God. But his deep belief was apparent and real.

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Frank Shooster(57) - Drive-In Owner Sept. 15th, 1892 - March 2,1950

Frank Shooster, Restaurateur. Frank Shooster, proprietor of the widely known drive-in restaurant at 9th and Flower Streets, died suddenly shortly after 1 AM today in Chester Hospital. The 57-year-old businessman, whose home was at 124 E. 24th St. was at his business establishment when he suffered a heart attack. He died at the hospital 10 minutes later. Born in Russia, Mr. Shooster came to this country as a young man. He settled in Philadelphia, later coming to Chester. For 18 years he was a tailor in Chester and then went into the gas station business. He built his drive-in restaurant at 9th and Flower streets 11 years ago, and it was one the early businesses of this kind in the area.

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Progressive Merchant Always taking an active part in the business, Mr. Shooster was a progressive merchant. He was well liked by those who knew him, and many business men sought his advice. He quietly helped a number of local businessman get started in their fields. For 20 years, Mr. Shooster had been president of the Chester Progressive Club, an organization of businessmen. He was a constant contributor to charitable organizations and was instrumental in bringing some refugees to this country. Surviving are his widow, Dora, three sons, Isadore, of Springhaven Estates; Harry, 903 Irvington Pl. and Herman, at home; four grandchildren, and one sister, Mrs. Mary Lesnick, of Philadelphia. The funeral will be held at 1 pm Friday from his late residence. 124 E. 24th St. with a viewing before the services. Burial will be in Brookhaven Cemetery.

Frank Shooster Painting by Rose Lesnik Mellor

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All letters to this column must be signed by the writer and include the home address. Pen names will be usedat the discrection of the editors. They should be written on one side of the paper only and are subject to condition.

Now that the sentence of execution of the Rosenbergs has been carried out, I should like to add my small comment to this event. Near the end of their stay of execution, a great well of sympathy seemed to emerge from expected quarters, other than those expected from Communists and fellow travelers; a feeling that our judicial measures were too extreme. A feeling that because the Rosenbergs had acted out of political conviction rather Than conventional motive, they should have been treated more leniently. There has always been a strong dissenting opinion in this country to capital punishment no matter what the crime. I was surprised to see and hear the dissent increase where espionage was the crime even though political conviction was the motive. I was surprised at the hue and cry of ordinary American citizens, and more, at the doubt that so many express concerning what the sentence in the Rosenberg case should have been; the doubt of those who have not made up their mind about capital punishment in general - and capital punishment for espionage or treason in particular. In my opinion, this doubt is extremely important and should be examined. It points up the reality that many Americans are not yet fully aware of the threat which Communism poses - the dire threat to liberty and freedom- to life it-

self. I am reluctant to add that it may even indicate a serious lack of understanding of the very meaning of freedom, of freedom as a philosophical value in our way of life--the value without which life is literally not worth living. To really understand the nature of the Communist threat is to forever dispel any doubt whatsoever that we, as a nation, must exercise and every possible means, consistent with our Constitution, to face up to Communism and destroy it wherever it presses us. The crime committed is in itself a sufficient reason for the death penalty. In my opinion, there is even a greater reason which positively demanded that the sentence be carried out. In our struggle with the insidious disease of Communism, it is most important that we accept in every way the role of world leadership which is our lot. America is viewed abroad as a tremendous organism whose every act must be accepted as some indication of the organism’s purpose, strength, and will to win. We must without hesitation demonstrate to the world our realization of the danger - our determination to win. the people of the world must be given some idea to rally around- plus a consistent demonstration of our purpose and steadfastness. To give them food and arms is not enough. We must play with the role of Paul Revere to the world; we must give to those who are still free, to those who struggle under oppression, a reason to rally- a reason to live and resist. A glance at a map of 1900 and one of 1953 is clear proof of the trend of this

struggle. This trend has not in any way changed in recent months- except to grow gradually worse. We are losing and we are losing fast. Our only chance is in facing the facts and acting upon them. We must accept the reality that; We are engaged in a total war with a mighty power whose avowed purpose is world domination, whose every act is toward that end. In this war, we are losing. In fact, so far as much of the world is concerned, we are lost. We must reexamine our entire attitude toward world events including our foreign policy- restate it- base it on real facts as they are- call a spade a spade. We must on no uncertain terms name Russia as our antagonist and forthrightly state that we will tolerate no further intrusion. Make it absolutely clear that we intend to fight to ensure our boundaries and our internal sovereignty. Give the world not only arms and sustenance as it requires, but most important of all a purpose and a goal. The entire free world is a pilgrim in the new world of the Twentieth Century. We must declare to the world our new purpose and our new goal. The Rosenberg execution must not be allowed to become another Soviet propaganda pivot. The world, and the millions in it who wonder how far we are prepared to go to destroy Communism, must know of this execution and understand it as the demonstrated fact of the new temper of these people- our new understanding, our new steadfastness, our new purpose. Herman Shooster 9th and Flower Sts., Chester

Herman defends capitol punishment. Delaware County Daily Times, Sat. Jun 27, 1953

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Ethel Greenglass and Julius Rosenberg

Julius Rosenberg (May 12, 1918 – June 19, 1953) and Ethel Greenglass Rosenberg (September 28, 1915 – June 19, 1953) were American citizens executed for conspiracy to commit espionage, relating to passing information about the atomic bomb to the Soviet Union.

Rosenberg Protest

NEW BEGINNINGS

Shooster’s Drive-In Vector Art Stephen Shooster Based on 1960’s Original

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SONG WRITING

Stephen Shooster - In his youth, Herman thought song writing could be his career. A letter during the war mentions his friends gathered around a record player listening to his music. He put one of the pieces to music with the aid of Francis Davis, who was also a local weatherman on station WFIL. The rest of the pieces lack music. I sponsored George Tandy to have the one with music reproduced. We have two versions one with Herman’s voice and other other a professional. The rest of the pieces lack music. During the discovery I found one of the pieces written by Harry Shooster. TWO HEARTS HAVE I

Francis Davis Photo from the Broadcast Pioneers of Philadelphia Archives

by Herman Shooster

When we kiss the thrill is heavenly, I can feel it With the feeling deep inside of me, No one heart could bear such ecstasy, Two hearts have I… And the pounding’s like a hurricane, Beating faster than the driving rain, No one heart could ever stand the strain, Two hearts have I… (repeat) I know that I should beware, And try to cool down this affair, For lovers that float in the aiŕ Someday may tumble down … But when I decide to curb the glow, More and more the flame will seem to grow, This one heart could never undergo, Two hearts have I… (repeat) And both belong to you. 226

WHEN YOU’RE IN LOVE

lyrics by, Herman Shooster Hear the music of a vi-o-lin See the twinkle of a sleep-y star. Hear the whisper of a Faint gui-tar, When you’re in love. Touch a star, its light will shine for you, Feel the moon light dancing on your hair, linger in the warmth of arms that care, When you’re in Love Believe the mu-sic you hear Have faith and you’ve no-thing to fear. Welcome this gift of ro-mance Don’t miss your ho-ly chance. Trust the magic of the mood you’re in, Gather love before it fades a-way, Give your heart and soul in ev’-ry way When you’re in Love.

I CAN’T IMAGINE WHEN (V2) by Herman Shooster I can’t imagine when, I’ve felt as good as this, I thought at first it was Your kiss, but this is, More than a caress, More than I can tell, How can I explain The spell, it’s swell to Dance on the moon where only lovers go Way up where all the world can see Sprinkle the moonbeams on the people below, Bet they all wish they were me, It’s oh so wonderful, It’s crazy and it’s mad, I hope it isn’t just A fad, I’m glad I Met you when I did, To think I could have missed, The wonder of it When we kissed.

Herman Shooster Looking Dapper

HOLD YOU

by Herman Shooster I hold you, Yet I wonder where you are, I kiss you, But your kisses seem so far, I’m with you, But each time I hear you sigh, I know your somewhere else, With some new guy, I hold you, But I wonder where you are, You’re me, But you’re further than a star, I’ve lost you, Still, you haven’t said goodbye, I may not hold you for long, But still I’ll try.

Links to Music and Reflections

https://shoosterpublishing.bandcamp.com/album/herman-shooster-songs-from-the-past

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Herman with his Red Lincoln Continental Car

NEXT STEPS

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Herman Shooster - Single and dating, my best friend, Marty Schulman, and I shared a bachelor pad. He was going out with Pearl Schulger and set me up with her sister, Dorothy. That is how I met the love of my life, the best thing that ever happened to me. I picked her up with my brand new, fire-engine red, 1952 Lincoln Continental, and as a gag, I left a sign on the dashboard that read, Popsicles 15¢. She wasn’t impressed. We went out drinking with my friends. I guess they were too much for her. When she got home that night, her mother said, ‘So how did it go, is this Mr. Right?’ She stamped her feet in protest saying, “He’s not my type.” Our second date was a little better. That is when I learned about her old boyfriend. She was in love with him for years, but he never proposed. That’s why she was dating. On our third date, Dorothy brought her sister, Pearl. They came to my house. Pearl was heartbroken. She just broke up with Marty. I made her feel a little better, with simple kindness and plain-spoken advice. They stayed until late that night listening to classical music

on the record player and only left when my mother yelled, ‘Herman, you need to wake up in the morning.’ On the ride home, Pearl told Dorothy with her characteristic bravado, “You’re lucky you met him first because if I did, you wouldn’t have had a chance.” That is when Dorothy decided to be me more serious. Pearl wasn’t one to dwell on heartbreak. She went down to the beach and met another fellow who became her husband. It only took a few months for Albert Nipon to propose. The four of us had a celebration dinner in honor of their engagement. Taking advantage of the moment, Al suggested, “Why don’t we make it a double wedding?” I had just gulped some coffee. Not expecting the challenge I ended up spraying my drink all over the table while saying, “Stop that kind of talk or somebody’s gonna get hurt.” Truth be told, marriage was the furthest thing from my mind, but we kept on seeing each other. I was nearly twenty-eight years old, and my brother, Harry, kept coaxing me to settle down, saying, “Herman, I don’t want to be partners with a wild, single guy.” Pearl and Al got married. Dorothy and I had a trial separation. It lasted three days, I picked her up at the dress shop she owned with Pearl and asked her to marry me. She agreed, then asked, “How many kids do you want?” Today we have four. I should have taken Al’s earlier advice

Herman and Dot looking at a Telegram congratulating them on their wedding

on the double wedding because there was no money for another wedding. Dorothy’s parents had just mortgaged their home to give Pearl her wedding. Ours would have to cost a lot less. My family couldn’t afford a big wedding either. So, we opted for a small ceremony in a little synagogue in downtown Philadelphia. That temple is gone now. We had a reception at the Warwick Hotel. It was chosen because it included a band with a dance floor. February 24, 1953, we began our new lives together. The wedding was attended by my mother and brothers, and their wives, Sylvia and Ida with their kids, Aunt Mary, and a few of Dorothy’s relatives. Even though it was not a grand affair, Dorothy dressed in a stunning gown and me in my best light blue suit. During the event, turkey platters came out of the kitchen with bacon on top. Since the Rabbi was kosher, Pearl took the initiative to stand by the kitchen door and take the bacon off the dishes.

Dorothy and I spoke about the wedding fifty years later, how we each walked down the aisle wondering who that person was that we were marrying. Of course, marrying her turned out to be the best decision I ever made. If I have accomplished anything at all, it could not have happened without her by my side. She continually bolstered my aspirations and self-confidence and turned out to be a woman with an extraordinarily positive and encouraging personality. We severely tested that optimism many times. I came to know nothing would have been accomplished if not for her unswerving confidence and trust in my abilities to succeed. Throughout the years, we both came to realize that our ‘best friend’ was by our side at all times. Whatever the circumstances and there were many hard years, she made our home a mecca for our children and their friends. Over the years, I came to love her more dearly than any adolescent crush. As I write this, we have already passed our 57th anniversary! HONEYMOON

The Wedding of Herman and Dorothy Front Row - David Shooster, Rose Lesnick Mellor, Second Row - Silvia, Izzy, Dora Mary Lesnick, Ida and Harry Shooster Rear - Mr. and Mrs. Dorothy and Herman Shooster

Our honeymoon was at a popular resort called Grossinger’s, in the Catskill Mountains [This area is known as the borscht belt, a Jewish enclave during the ’20s-’60s. The region lost much of its appeal when the next generation grew up and preferred cruising.] We had lots of fun in the mountains: ice skating, dancing, and some shows, but by the end of the week, I was exhausted. So, I asked my new wife if she wouldn’t mind cutting our trip short and going back to Chester. When we arrived home, my mother took one look at me and knew something was very wrong. Her reaction was our first clue that my tiredness was more than a cold. I went to bed immediately; she called the doctor. I had contracted Hepatitis. For the next two weeks, I laid flat on my back, while Dorothy had to sleep at the other end of the house. I think I must have become sick from a poorly sterilized needle during the required marriage tests.

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MARIED LIFE

Herman and Dorothy at the Beach

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Herman and Dorothy Newlyweds

Dorothy and Herman Cherry Hill, New Jersey 1966-1972

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Frank Mallory Shooster Feb. 22nd, 1954

Michael Scott Shooster Birthday - April 2nd, 1955

Stephen Leon Shooster May 11th, 1958

Wendy Joy Shooster, Dec. 6th, 1960

Michael walks around telling daddy that “We’re pals,” he just adores his daddy terribly much. Dorothy Shooster Diary - Sept, 21, 1952. Frank, Michael and Cindy, the Boxer

HOME SWEET TOWNHOUSE

We began our married life living at my mother’s home. About eight months later, we bought a little townhouse down the block, 322 W. 22nd Street. The cost was $9,800 [96k in 2021]. It was the most expensive one available on the block. We paid a premium for the home because Dorothy loved things to be ‘clean.’ It was immaculate. She furnished it in pink and aqua, and her father made us a built-in pink kitchen as a wedding gift. Her father, Leon Schluger, was a wonderful man. I became very fond of him. Unfortunately, he became ill with a kidney problem within two years of our marriage and died soon after. There was no kidney dialysis available in those days. He lived just long enough to see his youngest son, Allen, return from Korea. 232

During the next eight years, all four of our children were born. Our first son, aptly named after my father, Frank, was born in 1954; Michael, 1955; Stephen, 1958; and Wendy, 1960. If this tiny row house was our castle, our knight was Cindy, protector of the kids, a boxer. We were very happy there. I was working crazy hours. That’s what happens when you work for yourself. I started at about 10 am and got home at 2 am. Luckily I alternated the night shift with my brother. On nights off Dorothy and I would hop in the car and go to Philly. Our first stop was Schrafft’s, on Chestnut Street, for a butterscotch sundae, then off to catch a 9:30 movie. We were ‘free as birds.’ Even after the kids came into our lives we still managed to get out a lot. Another one of our favorite evenings was betting on the horses at The Trotters Race Track, in Wilmington. The families were growing. Harry and I started to focus on ways to increase income.

Gin Rummy From Left - Harry Shooster, Herman Shooster

Times were tough, but all during those years, we managed to keep a housekeeper. Usually, she would sleep in. Her name was Mae. She was a treasure. We may not have had money for a bigger home, but I felt strongly that Dorothy needed help with two young boys to manage. During these years I developed a habit of gambling. My game of choice was Gin Rummy; it never got too far out of hand, but it was compulsive. Harry and a few of our good friends, were the players. If a friend stopped by, we’d play. It became a ritual. Sometimes, I could win fifty dollars [$500 based on 2021], or lose the same. It was almost a disease. Eventually, we all phased out of it, and I have not played for money since.

Harry Shooster playing cards

THE SANDBOX

One thing irked me to no end. We built a sandbox in the front yard. Sand was delivered almost every week. It used to drive me nuts. As fast as sand went into that box, Frank and Mike would manage to make it disappear. To give you an idea of the impact this had on our budget, our mortgage was about $68 a month. The electric bill was about $6 a month, and sand for the kid’s sandbox was $5 a week!

Frank and Mike playing with sand in the front yard

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NOTES TO FIRST CHILD (1953)

Transcribed: 1. Have faith in God. 2. Give other people a chance. 3. Don’t abuse your conscience. 4. Be decisive. 5. Develop regular habits. 6. Let moderation be your guide. 7. Be unshakable in your principles but be sure they are practical principles. 8. Aim high... do as much as you can to achieve your win... but do not try to do what you cannot do. 9. Practice sensible health habits. 10. Keep an open mind to other points of view. 11. Have regard for human frailty. 12. Money is important in our society. Try to accumulate it. Be thrifty but not too thrifty and never try to accumulate money at the expense of someone else. 13. Take plenty of relaxation and rest. Take one or two small vacations. 14. Try to avoid situations that create anxiety. 15. Venture forth, make moderate risks, live life generously. 234

Herman Shooster 1953 Notes to First Child

Dear Sons, January 1959

My Dear Sons, I am writing this letter on a Friday evening in January 1959. It is not too cold outside my office in the restaurant building. Upstairs, people are working, customers (fewer then in past years) are eating. Mother is at home. It is rather late 12:30 am (Sat.). She is probably watching T.V. and waiting — as she has waited there many years — for me to come home. It will be 2:30 am before I do get home. You three are asleep now, and I can picture your cherub

faces as you lie there in your warm covers. My wonderful, wonderful sons! Another day of exuberant play and coy mischief over. And soon you’ll be up and at it again. What joy to watch you!! And what a contrast to the busy, hectic, tension-filled days and long worrisome nights, immersed in the necessary struggle to provide the better things of life that your Dad and Mom want so sorely for you, as well as for 235 ourselves.

PAGES FROM A DIARY Dec. 28, 1957 Letter to Kids

Herman Shooster - Daddy is sitting in his comfortable lounge chair on a damp and mild night in Dec. 1957. The living room is warm and I am alone. Mommy has just gone to bed. I am whiling away the late hours watching an old movie on T.V. and glancing through the pages that proceed this... smiling to myself at the antics of my little sons, and wondering what the future has in store for them. I think a silent prayer. May God protect them and abide them. I think also of our unborn third child. It is due in May... four and a half months yet! I think another prayer. Frankie will be 4 years old in February. Michael will be 3 years old in April. And what are these times like when my children are still children? Well, two months ago Russia launched the first Earth satellite and with it the age of Man’s dependence on this mother earth begins to come to a close. When I was a child “space” was the fantastic imaginative idea of comic strip writers. Today I am only 33 and imagination has begun to assume its real dimensions of reality.

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Diary entry - Dec. 28, 1957 1-3

Diary entry - Dec. 28, 1957 2-3

There is a large can in our cellar which I intend to fill with clean fresh water. We know it is possible at any time that we may have to survive an atomic attack. The can is our emergency water. For 1957 is another year in the so called “Cold War,” with Russia. Her captive countries and the East form one armed camp.... half the world. The United States, Western Europe and the countries of the Northern Hemisphere form another armed camp. The conflict seems to resolve itself down to this: Communism, and its aggressive expansion vs. Freedom, and the wish of Democracies to maintain their integrity. 9/21/57 — Michael walks around telling daddy that “we’re pals,” he just adores his daddy terribly much. 12/28/57 — God grant that these two systems will learn to live together in peace, and that someday in the time of my children, they can learn to work together for the common good of all men. And, yet, even in the contemplation of somber possibilities? I am optimistic. I believe man will find his way through the darkness. I even speculate on some of the things which may come to press in the next Fifty years or so. Children, some of the things I speculate on may be accomplished by the time you read and understand this. But you might be interested in some of the things the world looks forward to in 1957. 237

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Looks Forward - Diary entry - Dec. 28, 1957 3-3

Challenge Exercise: Take a piece of paper and write down your own version of the future. Keep it somewhere safe.

Looks forward to in 1957 (Transcribed)

1. Man on the Moon. We’ll get there... and I would guess will be there by 1967 and by 1987 inhabited 2. Man beyond the Moon... To Mars or Venus. Possibly by the time you are as old as I am now... in 25 to 30 years... at least by the year 2000 3. Practical colonization of the Polar Ice Caps 4. Control of weather conditions 5. Atomic electricity and heat in homes and factories 6. Rocket ship travel throughout the Earth 7. China will become a major power by 1990 8. Europe will become one country by 1975 9. All major diseases will be controlled by 1975 10. In the Government there will be a scientist of cabinet rank. Perhaps even a Scientist President 11. Large scale coal mining will cease by 1980 12. Education will consume a larger share of the longer life of Man and there will be some form of “Automatic Education”, As we learn more about the mind — we will find ways of using it to store facts automatically and man will be able to spend more time in creative thoughts and less time in learning the knowledge which proceeded him 13. The Dawn of the utility of Cosmic radiation by 1990 14. Mental telepathy... with greater knowledge of the mind, thought communication and transmission may become an act of will

Transcription of Looks Forward 1957

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Men building the redwood sign

Chester Times, May 26th, 1951 $20K would be $200K in 2021

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Detail of blueprint and building of Shooster’s remodeled drive-in 1951

Jack Swerman holding plans to Shooster’s Resturant.builders.1951 Inset photo - Inscription on back of watch, “To Jack Swerman in appreciation, The Shoosters, Feb.19, 1952

DRIVE-IN TO RESTAURANT

Herman Shooster - My Father and Harry decided to enlarge the restaurant. I was against this idea, but he already had an architectural plan drawn up. I preferred to make a few small restaurants in other locations. Those were the years before McDonald’s fast-food restaurants. Imagine what that could have been today. In the end, I agreed with the plan and construction started in 1951. The expansion brought us into a new, different business. Until then we were just selling hamburgers and shakes. Young people would drive-in and hang out. The new place was a full-scale restaurant with indoor seating designed for a different sort of clientele. In many ways, it mirrored our growing sophistication as a family. My brothers and I were all born in America. We were making our place among the wider community, interacting and attracting business executives from the nearby factories for lunch or dinner. The remodeling completely transformed the place. A giant redwood tower with a neon sign flashed, Shooster’s. It lit up the night sky. Neon was a new thing during those years. The interior had a Hollywood themed dining area.

It gave an air of excitement for our guests. A custom-built counter outlined the working area with a bank of sparkling new Hamilton-Beach milk shakers sitting on top. Everything was new. We still had outdoor carhops But now we also had indoor service and everything that goes with that. The new place encompassed the old building as an extension of its design. Throughout the remodeling, we didn’t skip a beat, remaining open during the entire construction. The architect that guided us through the transformation was Jack Swerman. His design ended up on the front cover of the November 1952, issue of American Restaurant Magazine, complete with a multi-page article. This magazine was considered the bible of the industry. During the building of the tower for the sign, I picked up a piece of scrap redwood and carved a horse’s head on it. That’s the only piece of the old building that still exists today. We were very pleased with the new place; our ticket to wealth, or so we thought. Jack, was given an engraved watch for a 241 job well done.

T H

his picture will give you some idea of the new Shooster’s Drive-in ...but it tells only part of the story. ere, in a nutshell, are a few facts about YOUR drive-in.

• • • • • • • • •

7500 sq. ft. floor area 65% plate glass 34 ft. redwood pylon 8 ft. colored concrete walkway Wide protective canopy Healthfully air conditioned A gleaming stainless steel kitchen Comfortable, foam rubber seating - booths and counters Services for baby, baby foods, high chairs, bibs, balloons, taffies

• • • • • • • •

Plenty of easy parking for 200 cars. Table - car - counter service Special take home service Modern, scientific illumination Soothing music by Muzak. Beautiful shrubbery and landscaping Modern, convenient, spotless lounges Restful atmosphere of pastel colored plastics and fabrics

Every modern convenience for skilled employees and ... Most important ...

the very best in food, at rates well within your budget, appetizingly prepared and served promptly.

Shooster’s Statement of Policy 1952

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Not a single days business was lost in the construction of this smart new Drivein, around an old circular building which originally housed Shooster’s Drive-In Restaurant in Chester, Pa.

ith showmanship and merchandising musts in modern restaurant operations, Shooster’s new drive-in completed a few months ago on Ninth Street in Chester, Pennsylvania was planned especially with these points in mind. The original drive-in, a small circular building designed principally for curb service offering a very limited menu, was established in 1938 by the late Frank Shooster and his sons Harry and Herman. The Shooster’s were new to the restaurant business, the father having been in the tailoring business and the sons having just finished high school. They struggled through the formulative years, improving procedures and methods, increasing their trade and extending their parking lot until it covered an entire city block.

Short order and car hop order areas were both planned and laid out for maximum working efficiency. Car hops pick up their orders on one side of the kitchen (lower photo) waitresses on the other.

Plans Delayed by War With the upsurge in car ownership and traffic-choking the streets following the war they outgrew their original building and wanted to construct a new place in 1946 but had to content themselves with a $10,000 face lift because of the ban on commercial building. Plans to build a new building were shelved until 1950. Fate intervened and the father, Frank Shooster, died suddenly of a heart attack. Construction plans were set aside for still another year. Ground was finally broken on June 4th 1951.

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American Restaurant Magazine for November 1952

Efficiency is the primary factor in this floor plan of the new drive-in. Cash control of car hops and waitresses is centralized in the single cashier. Drive-in and dining room guests are served by one kitchen.

Nine months later the job was done. The project had been an unusual one. The new building was built around the old drivein. A former service station building was blended into the structure. Half the interior was finished first, at which time operations were shifted to the completed section while the balance of the old drive-in building was torn out and rebuilt. Not a Day Lost Not a single day’s business was lost during the entire job. A great deal of thinking went into the construction of this unusual building. The Shooster brothers had a good many ideas based on their operational experiences. The architect Jack Swerman, was principally responsible for the general design. The kitchen was laid out by the Equipment Sales Company in accordance with management ideas. A drive-in restaurant, it was held, has many operational problems not common to a regular type restaurant. 1. - A drive-in should keep the dinning room or coffee shop separate from the curb service facilities. American Restaurant Magazine for November 1952

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Control Rest Rooms 3- A serious problem is the location of the rest rooms for curb service patrons. Shooster’s decided to forego drive-in customer convenience of having rest rooms accessible from the outside which ultimately leads to run down and shabby rooms, in favor of rest rooms which can only be reached through the coffee shop, thus providing better control of their use.

8 - The building is completely wired for Muzak, with six speakers on the outside for convenience of curb patrons, and additional speakers in the coffee shop, kitchen and offices to carry the music. Good for customer pleasure and employee enjoyment.

4 - Terrazzo floors are used in the coffee shop. PREPARATION AND SERVING of milk shakes is a streamlined job, with all unnecessary steps eliminated.

5 - Three large 6000 cfm fans are employed in the kitchen area in conjunction with expensive hoods and filters to keep the air clean and eliminate all smoke.

Each section should be served from the same 6 - A 10-ton Frigidaire air conditioner cools kitchen to keep operational costs in bounds. coffee shop and office. Here at Shooster’s the problem was met by using a long narrow type kitchen - which serves 7- A Bryant gas heater which utilizes seven car hops on one side and waitresses on the other. separate heat zones in conjunction with seven heat pumps gives heat to any section of the 2 - Cash control at Shooster’s is designed so that building that calls for it. the cashier is able to take care of dining room patrons and car hops from one central location.

CHECKING PLANS here Herman and Harry Shooster (seated, left to right) and Architect Jack Swerman standing. Background is photo of drive-in founder, the late Frank Shooster

An EYE-CATHING MENU offers a wide variety of food with special emphasis on dishes

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American Restaurant Magazine, November, 1952

9 - An efficient parking plan is a must for the busy drive-in. The architect, Mr. Swerman, designed a very efficient plan, permitting easy egress and ingress. 10- Showmanship is a must in the modern restaurant. Here are some of the props Shooster’s uses • The building and parking lot are lighted at night as bright as a baseball field. • Eye-appealing neon signs. • Yellow nylon uniforms for carefully selected waitresses. Bright red uni-

• • • • •

forms for carefully selected car-hops. Attractive shrubbery and flowers around the exterior of the building. Colorful murals on the interior. Beautiful “Coral Grey” pattern Shenango china (makes food taste better). Use of lots of glass in the building to give it a showcase appeal. Rest rooms that people will talk about (unusual wall papers - lots of tile-attractive fixtures - smart furniture.)

11 - Astell & Jones paper place mats and Media napkins at each table service. 12 - A menu that required two months’ effort to produce. This menu really sells food.

ATTRACTIVELY BUT WARMLY CLAD, carhops pick up orders for waiting guest.

13 - A disc jockey radio program which emanates from the coffee shop nightly except Sunday from 10 p.m. to 1 am over radio station WPWA. The announcer plays records, reads commercials, conducts interviews, and answers telephone calls. This show goes over the public address system in addition to being on the air. Very popular with the teenagers. Shooster’s also use five

TIME AND LABOR SAVING EQUIPMENT is an essential feature of Shooster’s short order department. spot announcements daily on the daytime radio. In addition, the menu for the week-end is published every Friday in the Chester Times. 14 - Shooster’s uses attractive circulars during the summer tourist season to build tourist trade. The circulars are distributed by uniformed boys stationed at strategic traffic lights on the main roads passing our restaurant. 15- Billboards are used extensively.

from which Shooster’s are building an enviable reputation throughout their surrounding area.

American Restaurant Magazine, November, 1952

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Herman Shooster offering to give away 10,000 FREE hamburgers!

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Herman Shooster, Center flanked by well dressed carhops during Penn week, at the Industrial Exposition held in the armory Week.

Chester Times Oct 30, 1950

Chester Times 13 October 1950

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Open Reception Herman on Left, Harry pouring Drinks Tuesday, Feb. 19th, 1952

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Shooster’s expansion. Gas stations are gone, parking is expanded

Shooster’s Restaurant, open reception Tuesday, Feb. 19th, 1952 The New Shooster’s Drive-In Resturant Open Reception Invitation

251 Shooster’s Opening Night, Tuesday, Feb. 19th, 1952

Open during construction, Americas smartest Drive-In Herman Shooster Woodcarving made from Shooster’s sign. 1952

In 2014, his family sent us a photo of that watch; it is still cherished by his kids. Things were OK at first, even exciting. Shooster’s Drive-In was the talk of the town. It was my job to keep it that way. We ran newspaper and radio ads daily touting the ‘World’s Best Hamburger’ and ‘The World’s Biggest Sundae.’ SHOOSTER’S NIGHT WATCH

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One of the highlights was a radio broadcast studio built inside the restaurant. Radio was a big deal back then. Having a radio station in our own backyard gave us welcome exposure. Shooster’s was a happening, and that’s the way I wanted to keep it. One of those radio shows was called The Friday-Niters Club. It was produced by station WPWA, 8-9 PM every Friday. The announcer was Jock Lawrence, known for doing a morning show called Industry’s Wake Up. Friday nights, he would come up the street from the main radio station and wrap up the evening at Shooster’s. Steve Fullerton was another announcer. His show was called Shooster’s Night Watch. A third was Cris Harwood and his wife. Their

show was called, The Man of a Thousand Voices. 1950-51, Wiener’s Nightwatch originated from Shooster’s. A patron, Carole Gelnack Mullen, said she would call up to request a song, but because the lines were set up as party-lines there would end up being 4-5 people all talking to the radio jockey. [a party line is a shared telephone circuit common in the early days of telephony. A party line has no privacy. These lines disappeared with the advent of push-button phones and associated computer switching] The most popular show was Joe Pyne’s, a local radio personality. He did a three-hour broadcast direct from Shooster’s. His program started as a combination of chit-chat and music that gained popularity quickly when Joe turned to talk radio. I went to school with Joe and considered him one of my best friends. He earned three battle stars in the war and a purple heart, his knee was shot badly. The wound healed, but he developed a rare form of cancer, so he lost the lower part of his leg anyway. Fortunately, this didn’t stop his personality, because he

Steve Fullerton Shooster’s Night Watch Feb. 26, 1960 Shooster’s Night Watch Chester Times Dec, 30, 1960

became one of the originators of shock radio in the United States. His show may have been irreverent but highly entertaining. He got fired a few times but kept at it. Today, you would compare him to Howard Stern. When his show got popular, he left Shooster’s and began to broadcast from nearby Wilmington, Delaware. That show was called It’s Your Nickel, a play on words off the cost of a pay telephone. He made it a lightning rod for controversy by goading his guests and then calling them out on air if he didn’t like what they said. As the show caught on, his comments became more audacious, and the more audacious he got, the bigger his audience grew. I think he became famous for insulting people. It wasn’t unheard of to hear a chair being thrown at him during a show. Joe eventually, ended up in Los Angeles where he switched from radio to the new medium of television. He died young at 44. I think Shooster’s Drive-in was so popular that I became a local celebrity myself. For instance, one time Josh Logan visited us, and I sat with him. He was a famous movie star. He mentioned that he wanted to go to the

inauguration of President Eisenhower (1953) but couldn’t get tickets. Shooster’s was a hub of activity, I knew a cross-section of almost everyone in the region. Can you believe, I got those tickets from a Democratic Party friend, who happened to be another patron of ours, and gave them to Josh. He came back and visited again after making the Broadway hit The Seven Year Itch (1955). That evening he had lost his watch. As a lark, I gave him mine without expecting anything in return. A few days later he sent me choice house seats for a performance. One thing that happened at Shooster’s was legendary. We hosted a dinner for a local orphanage and for entertainment we asked Bill Haley, the musical wonder, who was a regular at the nearby WPWA radio station, to come and play for the kids. He showed up with his band the Comets, and almost rocked the whole building down. It was wild! I think that was the first time Rock Around The Clock was played in a public place. 253

That song became the soundtrack for a hit movie, The Blackboard Jungle, (1955), a film about high school delinquency. It became the de facto anthem for rebellious 50’s youth. Our family has proclaimed that event as a legend, saying Rock ’n Roll started at Shooster’s! Rock Around the Clock [eventually this song became ranked No. 158 on The Rolling Stone Magazine’s list of The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time. The article also noted that Bill Haley started in Chester.] Shooster’s may not have been the birthplace of Rock ‘n Roll, but my hometown played a part. An old employee of Shooster’s, William Thomas reported, “I was there that night [Bill Haley played] working as a soda jerk in the back making milkshakes for the carhops. It was a riotous good time. Bill also played at our high school. He was the last group they allowed on stage because he always drove everyone crazy. His home was nearby in Boothland, Pennsylvania, about a mile from Delaware.” William also remembered that there was a big auditorium nearby that had wrestling matches. Once, Haystacks Calhoun, a wrestler, came into Shooster’s with his wife. He was a colorful character. What made the biggest impression is that he was so beefy at 640 pounds, he needed two chairs. Three young black men dressed as professionals came into the restaurant. I found this

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Haystacks Calhoun

Bill Haley

unusual. Not many black men came into the restaurant. They were very polite. I served them a few hamburgers. Later, I realized that the man in the center of that group was Dr. Martin Luther King. He was being trained as a minister at The Cozier Theological Center located in Chester. At the time, I had no idea how his life would change mine. Sometimes business came to us in droves. Once, when Chester High School won a championship game, to celebrate, it seemed, the whole stadium swarmed upon Shooster’s. The dining room was so packed that night with people that if someone died, they would have to do it standing up. It completely paralyzed the business. We couldn’t even serve a cup of coffee that night. Nobody could move!

Dr. Martin Luther King

Brother Restauranteurs - Harry and Herman Shooster, owners of the newly built Shooster’s restaurant and drive-in. 9th and Flower, which has its grand opening Wednesday at 11 AM The restaurant was founded by their father, the late Frank Shooster, in 1938. Brother Resturanteurs, 1952

Harry surrounded by Shooster’s car hops, 1952

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The New Shooster’s Drive-In

Shooster’s Front Counter The front counter

One of the funnier stories I’ll never forget was during what should have been an uneventful lunch. We had a very nice luncheon trade. On Fridays, they came to expect New England clam chowder. It was quite tasty. On one Friday, however, our cook rushed into my office agitated and crying. I could not begin to imagine what in the world happened to cause such distress. I thought, at first, someone had cut themselves or something equally as bad. She finally bleated out “I burned the clam chowder.” It was about five minutes before noon, and I knew the rush would be soon. I went to the kitchen and tasted the soup. Sure enough, it was burned, but it was still delicious.

What to do? I rushed back to the office and had my secretary get out the stencil we used in preparing the menu. She couldn’t understand why. I said, “Today we are going to serve New Orleans Clam Chowder.” I did not even know if there were any clams IN New Orleans. We cranked out the new menus, distributed them on the tables, and waited. I stood by the cash register to hear all the complaints as people were leaving. To my surprise, New Orleans Clam Chowder was a big hit, and everyone wanted it again! But, of course, we just didn’t know how to burn the soup the same way ever again. Thus, this fabulous dish was born and died on the same day, never to be served again.

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http://pixels.com/art/shoosty Shooster’s Drive-In Shop Your Own T-Shirt

Dee Sommer Garvey Shooster’s Carhop 1952

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Shooster’s Drive-in Restaurant 1950s

Chester Times, Money Makers. 1950s

Herman’s Original Art

Herman’s hand at work. Shooster’s Original Art

259 Shooster’s advertisement 1950s

Herald Tribune Oct. 7th, 1957

WANTED MOON PEOPLE (TRANSCRIBED) Men, women (& children) who would like to take the next Sputnik to the moon. Make your last meal your best meal...smörgåsbord at Shooster’s. I promise to deliver one of the best meals on this planet (or any planet) or I’ll buy that ticket for you on the next Sputnik. I can make this outstanding offer because I know that once you have seen our unbelievable buffet table set out with dish, after dish, after delicious dish of some of the best tasting foods you can imagine; and after you have had all you can eat... and we mean all you can eat, you will come back down to earth fast. And the prices are so ridiculously low that you could probably eat here for the rest of your life for less than the cost of a one-way ticket to Mars, (and there probably aren’t even any decent restaurants there) and since we just don’t have any branches on the moon or Mars or anywhere else, there’s just one place to get the kind of “out of this world” smörgåsbord I’m talking about . . . Shooster’s, 9th and Flower Streets, Chester Pa. Dinner is daily Mon. - Fri. 5 PM to 9 PM $1.50 Luncheon 11:30 to 2:30 Mon-Fri. $1.00 and Special Saturday-Sunday smörgåsbord $2.00 2 PM to 9 PM on Sunday, 5 to 9 PM on Saturday. And at all meals children are always half price. Come alone or make up a family party. Herman Shooster Space Captain and Host

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Shooster’s Marketing Associated with Current Events. 1957

Chester Times, Oct. 26th 1957

TIMES A CHANGING - THE BRIDGES

WICK’S BIG MOE

Over-expansion is a common business mistake, and it’s one of the most painful and valuable lessons I have ever learned. Expanding Shooster’s Drive-In might have been a good idea at first but, looking back, it was one of the worst decisions of my life. The market changed. We could have weathered the storms and even thrived if we made lots of small restaurants, I guess we weren’t that smart or lucky. By 1955, everything was changing at a quicker pace. My father was gone, the war was over, America was booming. Cars were taking over the landscape and to support them, superhighways were created, followed by suburbs and lots of new kids that came to be known as the baby boomers. You would think that all of these forces would have buoyed up our business, creating more traffic and the need for food. Instead, the reverse occurred. The city traffic that fed us was re-routed with the advent of The Chester Bypass Highway. The Delaware Memorial Bridge was built in Wilmington, Delaware cutting the traffic from the South. The Northern route was slashed by The Walt Whitman Bridge. All of those travelers would ordinarily have used The Chester-Bridgeport Ferry to cross to New Jersey and, in doing so, drive-by Shooster’s. Certainly, some would just happen to stop by. The business started to disappear. The population of Chester also started to drop. In 1950, Chester had a population of 66,000 residents. By 2000, the population dropped about 10% per year reaching 37,000. Today there are 34,000. The neighborhood became blighted with empty homes, the perfect breeding ground for crime. Crime rates soared. The demise happened over a period of years. We saw was dwindling cash receipts and the roads being built. The message was clear. Harry and I realized we had to get out of the restaurant business. We shuttered Shooster’s and Harry started to concentrate full-time on real estate while I focused on wholesale seafood marketing.

In 1960, we rented the restaurant building to Wick’s Big Moe. They signed a ten-year lease. We were happy to see our investment performing again. The rent was $10K a year for ten years. George ‘Moe’ Bostwick was the new owner. He wanted to get a Big Boy franchise but couldn’t, so he chose the next best name, his own, Wick’s Big Moe Restaurant and Drive-In. His cousin Herb ran the place while he ran another nearby. Collecting rent took a big weight off of our shoulders. Wick’s Seafood is still an active business in the city of Trainer, Pennsylvania, the town right next to Chester, and Bostwick family still runs the place. My son, Steve, met the sons and grandkids. After introductions, they handed him a folder of ads they ran back in the day. They used the same layouts I created for Shooster’s and just changed the name. One ad was particularly interesting, a full-page article clearly mentioning, ‘formerly Shooster’s Drive-In.’

for dining anytime Shooster’s

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Chester Times, April 6th, 1960 Wick’s Big Moe formerlly Shooster’s Drive-In

THE ADVENT OF THE DRIVE-THROUGH RESTAURANT Delaware County Daily Times (Chester, Pennsylvania) · Fri, Mar 8, 1957 · Page 8 Downloaded on Jan 11, 2015

Shooster’s Drive-In. Friday, March 8th, 1957 (3 years prior to Wick’s echoing the advent of the drive through restaurant.)

Delaware County Daily Times Aug. 20, 1960

8 Mar, 1957, Friday Fone-A-Chef Clipped By: shoosty1 Wed, Dec 17, 2014

Thu. Jan 31, 1957 Delaware County Times (Chester, Pennsylvania) CHESTER - Shooster’s Drive-In Restaurant, 9th, and Flower sts., has added a touch of automation to its carhop service with a “Fone-A-Chef system. Customers park by the two-car “station,” make their selections from illuminated menus and press a button on the two-way speaker. When an operator answers the customer gives his order. When the speaker is not in use as a communications unit, it reproduces music from the high-fidelity record player that functions automatically. the car hop delivers food in one trip. When finished, the customer puts the tray on the stations’ chrome rack, restores the speaker to its holder, and leaves. Thu. Jan 31, 1957 Delaware County Times (Chester, Pennsylvania)

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FOREVER CHANGED

On April 4th, 1968. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated, and race riots broke out across America. By April 9th, racial tensions exploded in nearby Wilmington, Delaware. Everyone expected riots to spill over into our neighborhood since Dr. King trained at the Crozier Theological Institute, of Chester. Trouble came, but nothing in proportion to the government’s counteraction. To restore order, The Governor of Pennsylvania enlisted The National Guard and deployed 500 men to Chester. They remained in place for nine months until the next governor was elected. During those tense times, many people moved out, further exacerbating the tax roles of Chester and plunging the city into decline. This action became the longest occupation of an American city since the Civil War, damaging race relations for many years. As the races began to polarize, the Italian, Jewish, and Irish immigrants moved into the new subdivisions just outside of Chester, leaving Chester to become a predominately black community. George Bostwick, Jr., [age 10 at the time] was there. He said, “Local blacks threw rocks at the cars of white drivers who came to pick up a burger. Wick’s erected barricades of tires and fences allowing traffic to continue safely around the restaurant. The customers would order using a speaker and then drive up to the window to get their food. It was the beginning of the modernday drive-up window. We couldn’t keep the retail business going anymore. At that point, we started a catering company and used the facility for preparations.”

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Morning Headline, April 5th, 1968

Delaware County Times, Chester, Pa. - May 1st, 1964

EXIT RAMP

My brother Harry built a small row home near the restaurant. He sold it and made a little profit, learned some lessons, and then did it again. Next time he built 10-row townhomes in a line and sold 7 of them quickly. They were all low-income housing projects. Harry’s homes were marketed to lower-income families. After quickly selling the first seven places, he went to a nearby rental complex and talked to the people about buying the remaining homes. He explained, “When you rent, you end up with nothing. These homes are affordable.” He sold the last three. Harry repeated that simple formula over and over, each time ratcheting up the ante. My brother Izzy was his partner. In 1972, another unexpected event happened. The Commodore Perry Bridge was approved. This would finally replace the ferry and go right through our land, forcing the sale of the property via the law of eminent domain. [Cities can force the sale of land for the public good at a fair rate.] A city bond was approved raising the money and making the project official. A deal was struck with our family and we had all of our capital back with new opportunities to explore.

The exit ramp of the Commodore Perry Bridge, formerly Shooster’s Restaurant

No one gets many chances to make big decisions in their life. Freeing this capital turned out to be a doozy. Harry put all of the proceeds into his real estate business. My life might have been easier if I just went along for the ride, but I couldn’t. I felt like the little brother with just as little a voice in the outcome. Instead, I chose my independence, something very important to me. Today, the exit ramp of the bridge rests squarely on what used to be Shooster’s drivein restaurant. Being conservative with the money, I hedged our future by buying an income-producing property. Tax laws allowed me to reinvest the capital gains from the sale of the property at significant savings. So, I bought a 7-Eleven store. The idea was to push the taxes as far as I legally could and secure revenues over the long haul. 7-Eleven accepted a five-year lease with four five-year extensions. Looking

back, I should have paid a lot more attention to the rental price for those additional years. In my later years, I was kicking myself for realizing it was seriously under-performing. When my son Frank graduated law school. I asked him to look into the store. I knew 7-Eleven was selling beer, and the law required my signature for proper licensing. Unhappy with the rental rate, I told 7-Eleven I was not going to sign the alcohol license for the following year unless I could raise the rent. They refused. I didn’t sign. A couple of years went by, and I heard nothing more about it. Frank visited the store and noticed they were selling alcohol. Looking into the license found it was a current. Upon inspection, the current license was based on my signature cut out of the last signed document and stapled to the new one. Frank handled the case, and we won. I adjusted the rents accordingly. 265

Herman at Work

1960-1967 NATIONAL FOOD MARKETERS

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When Shooster’s restaurant was sold, I was lost for a while. Before long, my sights were set on frozen food. Refrigeration was beginning to be widely used and a whole new category of food was brought to market - frozen food. My first product was stuffed shrimp. I sold it to Food Fair, a grocery chain. I also sold it toinstitutional frozen-food distributors. The product became so popular I eventually had a staff of eight people preparing them. Thinking about scaling, I started to look for a frozen food manufacturer who could produce my product in volume. My plan was to focus on sales and marketing while they did the production. I knew from experience that many of these manufacturers were located in southern New Jersey. I found one located midway between Chester and Atlantic City, in the small town of Blue Anchor, N.J. That is where I stumbled upon National Food Marketers, and I made a deal with its owner, Lou Caracciola.

With a solid sales base, I began to make other products under my label. Soon, I was taking away some of Lou’s own customers selling the same products under my label; this got his attention. In 1961, he asked me to join his company. Dorothy and I talked it over, and I accepted his offer, 25K a year[175K-2021]. My new job required me to commute from Chester to Blue Anchor. I found myself traveling all the time. You could find me all over the USA: North, South, and Midwest. I was always meeting new people. When business was good, they were literally eating up our products. But, it wasn’t always good. Our main item, stuffed shrimp was considered a specialty item. People don’t eat specialty items every day. I was pushing against strong headwinds.

Lou Caraciola with Herman

Lou and I both did a lot of driving. We were always hustling for the next sale. On one fateful day when I reached the crest of a hill, unbeknown to either of us, there was a car stuck at the top, just out of view. I crashed into it, and Lou crashed into me. Those were the years with no seat belts. Few cars had headrests. Luckily, no one got too hurt, but my car was totaled. We both arrived at my home holding our heads. A few days later, my mother bought me a new car. Things were going well enough. We had two more children, Stephen, and Wendy. When they were three years, and six months old, respectively, when we decided to move closer to my work, and we finally got that hooked off house Frankie wanted. So, we moved to New Jersey and built a split-level house on a wonderful golf course lot in Cherry Hill, in a subdivision called Woodcrest. In those days, it didn’t take too much money for a down payment. Like many of our generation, we made the transition to the new suburbs.

After moving into the new home, Lou came to visit. That is when he asked us if we would like an outdoor porch. Unbelievably, the next day carpenters showed up to build it. The porch they built behind our new house had a full kitchen with all the appliances and was completely screened in. Lou and I became good companions. He seemed to have a lot of respect for me and I for him. I can honestly say I did my very best to help him build his company, but success always seemed slightly out of reach.

National Food Marketers

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Mike and Herman with sailfish during a vacation in Florida.

Cherry Hill Foods, Inc., A Delaware Company

After moving to New Jersey, Dorothy and I took our first vacation in years. We borrowed Lou’s station wagon and took off for Florida with all the kids except Wendy, who was just a baby. It was a glorious time with three little boys who only wanted to know, “Are we there yet?” It was meals and bathrooms, bathrooms and meals. My son Frank recalled the trip. He said there was no interstate road at the time. One morning, we decided to go deep-sea fishing. We went to the dock. It seemed too expensive, so back to the motel we went. As luck would have it, it started to rain and I went back down to talk to one of the boat captains who I knew was not going to do much business in the wet weather. We made a deal. I made a bunch of kids very happy. We all cast lines out in the deep water and waited for a fish to strike, Nothing. But then, all of a sudden, Mike’s line took off, the reel whizzing and wheeling, almost smoking! We knew he had a big one. Fearing that Mike could be pulled overboard, I took over the line and reeled it in, sweat pouring off of me in buckets. Dorothy wiped my face. We caught a large sailfish and decided to have it mounted. All the way home, Mike and I each kept claiming ownership of the catch; it was tons of fun. Weeks later, the fish arrived via a moving truck in a crate that was as big as our house! We kept that fish hanging in our recreation room until we moved to Florida many years later.

Meanwhile, back at National Food Marketers, I found Lou to be an amazing man. I learned a lot from him. We made many trips to N.Y. together to visit customers and seek financing. Lou never failed to bring along some produce - tomatoes, melons, etc., for whoever we were visiting. Upon arrival, he would act like a hayseed farmer, but Lou was certainly no hayseed farmer. One of the most important things he taught me was the value of persistence. In many ways, he just kept overreaching. For instance, he did not produce frozen foods for customers. Instead, he produced frozen foods for his factor (financier). The more he produced, the more he could borrow against the factor’s funds. Always in debt, he kept building the plant. Several opportunities arose to make it big, but good luck just kept slightly out of reach. Still, we did good solid business and had some noteworthy successes. Eastern Airlines, for the first time, equipped their jets with quartz ovens. They chose NFM to produce frozen meals to be served in them. Kraft Foods also chose us to produce about sixty different products for them. Imagine our potential; it seemed limitless. With these great names and deep pockets, we couldn’t fail. But, none of our efforts proved lasting. It was discouraging to me. I did everything I could to help the situation, but in the end, Lou called the shots. Always under-capitalized, he had a lot of things going for him, but just not enough luck. I tried for five years to help him. All this 269 time, Dorothy kept boosting my morale.

Shooster’s Frozen Specialties Co., Business Card

GOING PUBLIC NFM was determined to go public. So, Lou asked me to write the prospectus. I protested, “I hardly know what a prospectus is,” I told him. Lou persisted. Dorothy and I spent a weekend, me dictating, her typing, creating this document. Until then, I had never seen, much less ever read a prospectus, and I knew the one I wrote was a joke. But the joke saved the company thousands of dollars because when it finally got to a securities lawyer, I had at least assembled most of the information he required. That’s when I first met Hank Malon, the lawyer who would later become my partner in Cherry Hill Foods.

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Herman Shooster 1969

To become public, you have to comply with specific rules. One was audited financials. It was always a struggle to have audited financials. We needed them to be not more than 60 days old. They always seemed close to expiring. I rushed them to the SEC, in Washington, and the underwriters, in New York. Eventually, Lou’s company achieved a public status. For a while, it was happy days at National Food Marketers. Lou brought on some additional salespeople, and I began to see a way out. These were the good times. Jack Kelly, a prominent salesman from Philadelphia, signed on. He helped Mrs. Paul’s Seafood, a famous brand, gain success. One of the most important things he did was to introduce Lou to a fellow named Vic [unknown last name]. Vic was a wealthy Philadelphian, who made a deal to lend Lou money. I warned Lou against working with this man. I don’t know why, but I didn’t trust him. He went ahead against my advice. Later, when the trouble started between them, Vic sued Lou. That is when I got a troubling phone call of my own; it was Vic. Vic said, “Herman I made a lot of millionaires in my lifetime, and I’m about to make another one.” I said, “Who is the lucky person?” Vic replied, “You.” I said, “And what do I have to do to earn this great reward?” Vic said, “Vote for me at the next board meeting.” I said, “Well, Vic, I’ll tell you what. You can stick that million dollars up your ass. You can’t buy me!”

Herman Shooster creating Shooster’s Products 1960’s

Shooster’s Prepared Frozen Food 1965

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Herman selling frozen food Hank Malon in the center

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Next thing I knew, I got sued, too. The difference was that Lou had nothing to lose. His whole business was always in great debt, but I, by then, had two 7-Eleven stores. They weren’t fun days. In another instance, I found a wealthy insurance man from Wilmington, Deleware. I brought him to the plant to ask him to consider investing. He liked what he saw and agreed. He made Lou an incredible offer. It was many years ago, but I still ponder this offer today. I had never seen this type of ‘big thinking’ before. I was very impressed. When Lou asked him what he had in mind, he simply said, “Is this a corporation?” “Yes,” said Lou. “Well, as a corporation do you have bylaws?” [He just wanted an honest partner] “Yes,” said Lou, this time with a touch of suspicion. “Our contract will simply be that you run your company according to your existing bylaws.” An incredible offer! I thought. Yet, equally incredible, and to my dismay, Lou turned him down. I don’t know why he turned him down but I knew I couldn’t wait any longer.

Yearning to be back in business for myself, it seemed like a good time for me to leave. I began to make plans. I had known for several years that I needed to ‘row my own canoe.’ It was just a matter of timing. My plan was to leave National Food Marketing on a high note and start my own frozen food company. I extended my notice but was implored to stay. It took me another year to leave the company before starting the next chapter of my life. At any rate, I was on my way to a new career. A career I wish I could have avoided, but nevertheless, lived through. NFM was in financial trouble most of those years. We held frequent meetings with the board of directors to discuss finances. During those meetings, Lou would pass around promissory notes and asked everyone to sign so he could borrow money from the bank. I never signed a promissory note for him. A wise man once told me, “A man who signs a promissory note is a schmuck with a fountain pen.” Years later, after I had been gone for some time, the company went under, and all those note-signers were held responsible. I think it killed one of them.

SHOOSTER’S FROZEN SPECIALTY PRODUCTS

When I started Shooster’s Frozen Specialty Company, I was not sure of exactly what I wanted to make. Dorothy came up with the idea. I found her excited about a demonstration of seafood kabobs on television. Together we created our own. I already knew beef kabobs were a big seller in those days. Seafood seemed like a natural winner. I started to play around with various combinations of seafood and finally, put a product together that we both thought was terrific. The next step was to take it into production. I found another factory in South Jersey that could make the product and freeze it. Then, I paid a lot of attention to the packaging. Until I was satisfied, I did not offer it to the frozen food distributors or supermarkets. I knew that to be successful, I did not just have to have a good product, but it had to look good, too! With seafood kabobs as my new flagship product, I built a small company and was able to make a living without incurring debt. Along the way, I think I also became the largest importer of bamboo skewers in the United States. Once established, I introduced my next product. [frozen chicken kabobs] Those were exciting times. I was building a business on my own, carefully grooming sales trying to find ways to grow. I couldn’t help but be excited about the prospects. The upside was unlimited. To give you an idea of how exciting it was, one time, I heard that Shooster’s kabobs were served at the White House! I achieved sales through frozen food distributors. These guys were savvy marketers. I naturally looked to them for feedback, and they appreciated the chance to give it. The business was working, yet I could not get it to simply lift off. The problem of repeat sales occupied a lot of my time. One of my largest clients was Food Fair, a large supermarket. They spent tens of thousands of dollars for my products and, for a time, they were successful, but only if recommended by the people behind the counter. In the end,

my products were just too much of a specialty item to gather momentum. I had to find another solution. I was very excited about running my own business. All around me, opportunities abounded, I just needed a break. Bill Gerry was one of my best customers. He ran Bookers, a large New York food distributor. knew him from National Food Marketing. He invited me to his farm in Liberty, New York. While we were having a drink, he pointed to a nearby mountain and explained that his son had installed a satellite dish up there to serve this entire region with cable TV service. I took note. A few years later, it became a vast enterprise. They virtually started the cable TV business in the United States. The company was called Liberty Cable. I tried to keep selling frozen food for another two years. Sales were difficult, but I was enjoying the friendships. Most were from New York and Philadelphia. One of my closest associates became Hank Malon, the securities lawyer that handled National Food Marketers. Hank kept nudging me to take Shooster’s Frozen Specialty Company public. I thought the idea was ludicrous. Shooster’s was a small, unproven company that did not warrant the public’s attention, much less their investment. However, months went by, and he kept bringing it up, insisting that he had an underwriter who owed him a deal. Eventually, I relented and got on board. That is how Cherry Hill Foods, Inc., was born as a public company and me as its President.

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Cherry HIll Foods, Left to right, Frank DiMartini-Graphic Designer, Suzanne- Secretary. George Mumford-Comptroller, Herman Shooster - President, Hank Malon - Securities Attorney Cherry HIll, New Jersey, 1969

1969-1972 CHERRY HILL FOODS

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My business plan was sound. I had no debt and people were investing. My goal was to buy other companies for stock, and use our cash as working capital to expand their operations. I knew the ropes, having already done something similar for National Food Marketers. The stock market was hot. So hot it was taking months to achieve certification from the SEC. All we could do was sit back and prepare for the long wait. Then, just like that, we received a telegram from the SEC notifying us that we were effective. The underwriter could immediately begin selling the stock. I was ecstatic. We were a public company, but the underwriter was not too happy. They were not finished selling a previous offering. Regardless, there was no turning back. What the SEC does, everyone has to live with. A frantic effort was underway in New York to sell our stock and, to my amazement, it was successful.

We applied for and achieved a Full Filing, giving us an S-1 designation, as compared to a Regulation A limited offering. 27.8% of the company was offered for a 1/2 mil., which, today, seems like a small sum. Not in 1967 [4 mil- 2021]. It was a lot of money. Watching this unfold was thrilling. I had public partners and with them came sophistication and investment. The primary partners were Hank and me with a declared value of a little over 72% of the company. With a solid offering, we ended up with over 1/2 million dollars in the bank. It seemed like we were well on our way to creating something of value for everyone. Meanwhile, treachery was lurking nearby. Hank called while we were celebrating the news. He said, “Herman, in order not to get caught in a short position, the underwriters are allowed an over-allotment of stock beyond what had been agreed to be sold. The buffer was 10%. They called me and said they demanded the additional shares. The company will receive the additional funds, but they will own the shares.”

CHERRY HILL FOODS TO SELL STOCK. Cherry Hill Foods, Inc., 1739 Country Club Drive, Cherry Hill, N.J. 08034 filed a registration statement (File 2-31252) with the SEC on December 30 seeking registration of 200,000 shares of common stock, to be offered for public sale at $2.50 per share. The offering is to be made on a “best efforts” basis by Contes & Company, 30-96 42nd St, Long Island City, N. Y. 11103, for which it will receive a commission of 30¢ per share plus $15,000 for expenses. The company has agreed to sell to the underwriter, for $200, six-year warrants to purchase 20,000 shares, exercisable after one year at $2.50 per share. The company was organized on December 18; on December 27 it acquired all of the outstanding stock of Shooster’s Inc., and is engaged in the marketing of specialty frozen foods under the brand name, “Shooster’s”. Of the net

proceeds from its stock sale, the company will use $6,849 for repayment of a loan from Herman Shooster, its president, and $12,500 for repayment of a bank loan guaranteed by him; $50,000 will be used for advertising and marketing and $100,000 for acquisition of addition inventories; and the balance will be added to general funds of the company and used for working capital purposes, including a $30,000 per year salary for Shooster. The company now has outstanding 520,000 shares, of which 270,000 were issued to Shooster for the outstanding stock of Shooster’s Inc. (which had a net worth of $6,330), and 250,000 were issued to Henry C. Malon, vice president, for a cash consideration of $5,000. Purchasers of the stock being registered will acquire a 27.8% stock interest in the company for an investment of $500,000; Shooster and Malon will then own 72.2%, for an investment of $11,330, or an average price of 2¢ per share.

Securities and Exchange Commission, Jan. 8th, 1969 Cherry Hill Foods becomes effective

They had us over a barrel. Reluctantly, we agreed. I knew it was really a form of blackmail, and I thought it was also illegal, but fighting was not a good plan either. I needed to focus on all the positive energy I could muster to make this business successful. I wasn’t going to start day one with a legal problem. In the end, it didn’t matter. The stock market collapsed soon after we went public. In that climate, you couldn’t give stock away. At least we were flush with capital. But since we could no longer trade our stock for ownership of another company, we had to resort to expanding the sales of our original products. I was worried. I knew this would not be enough. To achieve success, we needed the sales plus a rising stock market to help cover the additional expenses that are incurred when a company goes public. Our game plan was in trouble from the beginning. Still, we tried. Over and over again we pitched small companies that we thought

could benefit from our cash but to no avail. If this was not enough, we had another limiting factor. The ‘Use of Proceeds’ section, as defined by our original prospectus. Hank and I argued about this section for weeks before he prevailed. I wanted it to be written in an open fashion so that we could invest in any business that we determined had growth opportunities. Hank, on the other hand, was set on limiting the use of our proceeds to frozen food companies. We compromised to limit the use of funds to food companies. It was a reasonable compromise but, in my judgment, imposed an unnecessary limitation on what we could do. I was 43 years old, the President of Cherry Hill Foods, a public company with no debt, and $550,000 in the bank. The future, though uncertain, looked great. For the first time, my company was in very good shape financially, and I had influential friends to help take it to 275 the next level.

Cherry Hill Foods - Manufacturing Product

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Opportunities began to materialize. We landed The Brass Rail Restaurants of New York as an account. They selected us to produce a line of frozen foods for them to be marketed through supermarkets. President Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society was underway. This is associated with a period of rapid economic growth in the United States. I was hoping to ride that wave by first sustaining the early period of selling our own products and services. I felt like we were in a position to succeed and I did everything to ensure we could. We made a quality product. Packaged it professionally. It had great eye appeal. All of our hard work gave me the confidence to call on distributors. It didn’t take long before I learned, if the distributors were going to buy our product, I had to pre-sell it to the restaurants and hotels that they supported. Distributors expect buyers to place orders for what they wanted. So, I began to work my heart out. To introduce the product, I drove to New York what seemed like a thousand times and called on

every hotel kitchen in Manhattan, talked to every chef, and met with every Food and Beverage Manager I could find. For a while it worked. I placed the product and once I had a small set of repeat customers, I tried to leverage the sales by making other products they would consider. That is when I introduced the chicken kabob. Unlike seafood, chicken had to be federally inspected and labeled. So, I had to find a different manufacturing plant. I found one about a hundred miles north in Pennsylvania. With two products under my belt, I began to work on a third, a line of hors-d’oeuvres. The company was doing business, but I was working like a slave. No matter how hard I worked, I began to notice I was up against a wall. I was selling specialty products. Restaurants only used them as a special once in a while. Repeat orders were delayed. Determined, I hung on and sustained my small public enterprise, while not building up any debt, all along puzzling over how to make it a success.

Cherry Hill Foods - Manufactoring Product

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1972-1974 UNITED COFFEE

UNEMPLOYED

Months went by, then a year or two. All the while our cash dwindled without finding a good acquisition. Finally, we purchased a large coffee service. I was able to build it from 1,500 to 5,000 clients in a period of two years. The idea was to place coffee machines in offices and sell the coffee and supplies to use with them. Every time we added a customer, we had to invest in one more coffee machine. This equipment could easily grow legs and disappear, and nothing was keeping our clients from buying products to use from other sources. It seemed nothing would go right with the new company. It was during the early days of computerized billing, and the firm handling the billing got our accounts mixed up, causing a nightmare of errors. Earnings had all but disappeared. The underwriter started to squeeze us, too, and the investors were leaning on Hank, to do something. Unfortunately for me ‘doing something,’ meant changing management. The directors met without me and decided I was out. The next day Hank broke the news to me in a devastating blow. Until then, I thought Hank and I were a team. I thought we could face any eventuality, but I was naive. Except for a short conversation we had on the telephone many years later, that was the last time we spoke to each other. The new management was never able to do better with the company. It just dragged on and on until it eventually ended.

I had a wife and four children to support. At least, I still had a little income from the 7-Elevens, but it was not enough to sustain even our modest lifestyle. I was at the bottom of a very tall mountain I knew I had to climb. The story of that climb is itself the stuff of another tale. For the first time in my life, I applied for unemployment benefits. It was embarrassing to go from being a CEO to the unemployment line. My son Michael stood with me in line. It left an indelible impression on him to one day succeed in business. I put my pride aside while I sorted out my life. I was about 46-47 years old and hanging by my thumbs. I never thought of myself as a failure. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but somehow I knew I would find a way to overcome adversity. One thing for certain, I assure you, it wasn’t fun for Dorothy OR me. By this time the rest of the family was successful, and neither of my brothers tried to reach out to help. Maybe they just didn’t know how devastated I was, or maybe they had problems of their own of which I was unaware. Building a real estate company, which they were doing, can involve being ‘cash poor’ for years. My mother knew my plight. She was also devastated by my circumstances, as any mother would be. She offered to help me any way she could including sending me back to Medical School. To keep busy after a few weeks of drifting, I returned to the Real Estate business with Mackle Brother’s. Throughout the years I had maintained my Pennsylvania salesman’s license, the same license I had earned after graduating from College. That license gave me, through reciprocity, a New Jersey license as well and, for about a year, I was selling lots for new homes in Florida for several Mackle properties. The pitch was “Florida dream homes.”

Candid photo of Herman

United Coffee Break Service, Business Card

The Deltona Corporation Florida Mackle Brothers Business Card.

VITA-SLIM

I tried a few ideas. One was a hit. I had learned about the popularity of dieting pills and made arrangements with a drug manufacturer to produce them. I branded it, Vita-Slim. Then, I hired an advertising agency to market it. We eventually had hundreds of ads in TV Guide. The magazine had over 100 editions so I could experiment with different markets and various forms of advertising. The orders came pouring in. Checks arrived in the mail by the hundreds. I shipped the product right from our home. Things were going great, until I got a notice from a government agency to cease and desist. My world collapsed again.

I showed the letter to a neighborhood friend, and attorney. He advised me to accept the order. I could have fought it. In retrospect, I think it was originated by a competitor. I was really hurting; however, I took my lawyer’s advice and stopped the business. The advertising stopped, and I returned a basket full of unopened checks to the post office. With dwindling cash and poor prospects, I created a resume and we decided to move to Florida. 279

RESUME 1973

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Herman’s Resume 1973

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Izzy and Sylvia

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Silvia Shooster obituary Delaware County Times, Mon, Jan 21, 1963

FLORIDA “Paradise”

Herman and Dorothy Pompano Beach, Florida 1980

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BROWARD BUSINESS SERVICES

1974, one of the most fateful decisions I ever made was when I decided to buy Ding-a-Ling Answering Service. At the time it was losing money. What I was able to do with that little company lead to a business big enough to support my entire family and to success I had never dreamed of achieving. Out of work, I had been searching for my future. My prospects were bleak. I was 48 years old and did not think I could get a job that would pay enough to live as I wished. I felt strongly that I had to be back in business for myself. But, the only cash I could count on was the equity from our house. Just as I was seeking my new future, my mother-in-law moved to a retirement community in South Florida. My wife wanted to visit. I needed a little sunshine in my life, too. So we went for a visit. During that trip, Dorothy said she wouldn’t mind living in Florida. Reacting to her, I told her I could just as easily look for a business in Florida as New Jersey. She agreed, and we put our house for sale. Desperate as we were, I also saw this as an opportunity to change our lives. Most people get committed to a course of action that becomes self-perpetuating. I was willing to move, open to different types of opportunities, and living in Florida was always a dream. Growing up in the Northeast, pondering the trains that traveled to Florida, as a youth, I imagined, ‘paradise.’ I started to search for a business in Florida.

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Ding-a-Ling Answering Service Business Card

It took over a year to find one I liked. We sold our home and rented a new one in Hollywood, Florida. The fellow who bought our old home was unknown at the time, Michael Milken. Milken would become rich and famous as The Junk Bond King, eventually becoming so successful with his audacious way of doing things that he went to prison. Meanwhile, back in Florida, I believed it would be better to buy a going concern rather than start from scratch. I can’t tell you how many companies I reviewed or how close I was to make a serious mistake, but luck must have been with me as I found a business I could afford. To find that one gem, I hired a business broker. He asked me what type of business I was interested in, I said, ‘A telephone answering service.’ I don’t know why I said it. I had just recently heard some intriguing things about them and was willing to give it a chance. The broker found a small answering service called Ding-a-Ling, owned by two brothers, Frank and Joe Brooks. Frank and I took some time to get to know each other before attempting to negotiate a deal. I took my son Steve [15], and Frank took his son, Jeff [12], on a boating trip on the Loxahatchee River. The river was overgrown with vegetation.

Dorothy Shooster, business card

Herman Shooster Ding-a-Ling Answering Service 1976

Trees formed a natural canopy. The water was a deep shade of black. Muck lined the bottom. It was about 6-10 feet deep. We were in alligator country. In fact, it was everything country; every snake, spider, and frog found Florida friendly. Many of them were poisonous. We dropped anchor to do some fishing. It was just a bucket on a rope. When we were ready to leave, we couldn’t. The anchor was stuck. Without hesitation, Frank told Jeff to jump overboard and free the anchor. With little prodding, Jeff was in the water. Steve and I were both aghast. Years later Jeff explained, “The anchor wasn’t stuck. The rope just got sucked into the impeller. All I had to do was pull it out. I kept my eyes open for alligators. They lurk in the weeds. It was definitely their habitat. I didn’t see any. As soon as I freed the rope, I got back in the boat.” When we got back to the dock, we shot targets with rifles. The whole day was quite a treat for us. Things went well and, eventually, we

negotiated a fair deal, but we could not come to an agreement. I was ready to give up. That’s when Dorothy suggested that we ought to leave on a friendly note. She invited the Brooks’ to our rented home for lunch. We got along so well that by the time lunch was over the deal was on again. Spending most of my career in the food business, I’m not sure myself why I made such a big change, but I already knew how risky that business was. What I liked about the answering service is that, fundamentally, it is about repetitive revenue generated by lots of small clients. However, no business is without risk. In this case, I thought my biggest concern would be that it had only one supplier, the phone company. During those years AT&T held a monopoly over the entire telecom landscape. In considering that risk, I thought, at least they were regulated by the government. Perhaps the most important consideration 285

I can think of is that this business was affordable. Nevertheless, it was a big decision, so I asked my brother, Harry, for his opinion. He took a long look and gave it thumbs down. I weighed his opinion carefully and bought it anyway. I believe it is important to listen to the opinion of lots of people, but in the end, you have to make up your own mind. October 1974, I incorporated as Broward Business Services, Inc. and agreed to pay 160K for Ding-a-Ling Answering Service with 50K up front leaving a note of 110K to pay off; it was everything I had. The next day Dorothy and I walked into our new office. I remember the awkwardness surrounding those first calls. We didn’t have a clue about the intricacies of this business. We were just flying by the seat of our pants. Regardless, it felt great to be back in business even though it wouldn’t be for another two years before I could earn enough to take a salary. The main thing this small company needed was new clients. It took constant marketing to attract potential customers. The cost of finding a new client was expensive. When you subtract the cost of marketing it takes months before a new client is profitable. The quality of our service had to be impeccable to keep them. Our mission was to provide live operator services at a competitive rate, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, rain or shine, at a competitive rate. We were especially needed when there were big storms or power blackouts. Everyone depended on us — doctors, service people, and all kinds of trades.

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Happiness is Ding-a-Ling

At first, nothing was easy. Within a week of the purchase, my heart fell. I’ll never forget that experience. Mrs. Zac, my new account manager at the phone company, was the cause of the anxiety. I never met her in person. By this time I was a seasoned businessman, and all of it was face-to-face. Suddenly, I had no choice, everything was done over the phone. It was a new era, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. Frank Brook’s advice went against everything I had assumed I knew. I grew up thinking that after you had prayed to God, you prayed to the telephone company. It would never have entered my mind that I could negotiate with AT&T and prevail. The next time Mrs. Zac called she was virtually speechless when I told her I was not about to give her a 20K deposit. After regaining her composure, she said, “If that is the case, we will need a bond.” I did some research with my bank and found that a bond would have cost me about $300. Emboldened by my discussion with Frank, I turned her down on that, too! What she didn’t know was that after the purchase I didn’t have ten cents to give her anyway. I never did pay a deposit, but those were anxious days worrying about if they would come to pick up their equipment. That was the beginning of my education in the telephone business. Over time, Frank and I became close friends and eventually partners.

Brooks Brothers Car with Ding-a-Ling sign

The First Ding-a-Ling switchboard 1971 Carole Brooks peeking out from the left side. Notice the location of the switchboard is in the dining room. The kitchen with a copper pot on the top left, and refrigerator door are in the background. A letter with the Ding-a-Ling logo is on the wall Photo courtesy of the Brooks family

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Herman Shooster 1976

DING-A-LING

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Ding-a-Ling is a funny name for a business. Cute and memorable, the perfect name for advertising. The first switchboard was installed at the home of Frank and Carol Brooks. As soon as it was, a vigil began, babysitting day and night. One time, Carol, came home after three weeks in the hospital and Frank simply propped her up to make it possible to reach the switchboard, then he went out to sell more clients. Those old switchboards were connected to the phone company with very reliable hardwired extensions. It took two exclusive wires to serve each customer. To support the physical needs we had to be located as close as possible to a telephone central office. The Coral Ridge central office was a block away from our office. At our peak we had nine switchboards serving 100 phones each requiring 1,800 separate wires to enter the building, a huge bundle. Our switchboards were an extension of our client’s phone. When the phone rang at their office, a light on the associated slot flashed and a low buzzing sound occured. If the client answered the phone, and we pluged in at the same time, we could hear them speaking. It wasn’t an easy job. Each client, had different rules for when to answer and what to say. We typed abbreviated instructions onto a piece

of paper about 1-inch by 1-inch and placed them into a tiny holder, and more extensive instructions on index cards located above the switchboard in slots designed for the purpose. Message slips were filed into those same slots. The market for providing our service was limited to clients that used the same local telephone office as our switchboard. To extend our footprint into another local telephone office, we paid extra for a set of machines, a concen trator and an identifier. Each was about the size of a tall skinny refrigerator. The concentrator remained at the central office, and the identifier was placed in our office. Those were the days before today’s silent computers. They used crossbar switching. Crossbar switching has a very clear clickity clack sound whenever a phone rang. It also gave true meaning to the expression, ‘a bug in the machine,’ because often a real bug would get caught in the relays and block the circuit from working. My dream when incorporating Broward Business Services was to one day be able to serve all 30 cities of Broward County. There was a very slim chance of achieving that goal as it would take at least 30 switchboards. Who could have imagined we would not only achieve that but eventually extend our footprint throughout the entire USA and beyond.

Ding-a_Ling Answering Service 1976

Switchboard Tags

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THE ACCOUNTANT

One of the first things I did was hire an accountant. From our very first month, we had monthly profit and loss statements, as well as summarized balance sheets. Doing this was a type of big thinking. We were a small business and had no requirements for that level of accounting, but for me, it was almost a religion. I wanted the information to make sure we moved the profits in the right direction. My vision was a much larger company from the beginning. That is how I met Sam Kapit, our accountant. It didn’t take long before I intuitively began to trust him. Thus, began a relationship that lasted over 26 years until the day he died. At first, I was just another client. Neither of us had any inkling that our relationship would become so close or last so long. Sam also became a mentor to our children, and when he semi-retired, we remained his only client. Sam was a true friend to all of us. We could all write a separate book relating some of his quips and foibles, his bad jokes, and smart ideas. Most importantly, Sam was an honest man, a man of principles. If ever I was tempted to cut a corner, he kept me on the straight and narrow. I miss him. We all miss him. As a testament to his good practices, many of the processes he started remain in place today. Here is a sampling of Sam’s Wisdom: • •

• •

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The answer is, “A little bit here and a little bit there.” Sam had a small photo he kept in his wallet, and when queried about his family he would pull out that photo and show us his, “Pride and Joy,” furniture polish and common dish washing soap. When someone asked Sam how he was doing he would say, “I’m doing ‘grate’, like the bottom of a stove.” Upon seeing a quarter on the ground, Sam would say, “If I bend down to pick up that quarter it will cost me a dollar.”

Sam Kapit, with his Pride and Joy 1980s

LITTLE-BY-LITTLE

Dorothy and I learned how to sell answering services and gradually how to manage the company and little-by-little we began to grow one small client at a time. She would tell prospects about our kids and how she would treat them as one of her children. I don’t think anyone could have refused her, but it was a tough business, and sometimes we would lose a client. They can be very demanding. The key was to put more clients on than we took off; it was a battle of attrition. Our livelihood rested on the quality of the people we could find; it was not easy. We oper ated on a tight budget. There could easily be a family issue when someone wouldn’t be able to show up for work or, conversely, we could be overstaffed and would have to send people home. Our profitability demanded constantly watching the schedule. During the midnight shift, a single person managed all nine switchboards. Just to see the calls ringing you would have to keep walking.

The telephone company-owned and maintained all of our switchboards. They even owned the Yellow Pages book, which was our primary source of advertising. It was a large yellow book designed to entice callers to find the required services they wanted. For young people, it was the equivalent of Google in the form of a book. Everyone used it. The expression, “Let your fingers do the walking,” summed it up. In our heyday, the costs were close to 50K a month for Yellow Pages advertising. After transitioning to Google, the cost was a bit lower, but the transition wasn’t easy. As the company got rolling my son, Stephen, graduated from the University of Florida in 1982, with a degree in Fine Arts and a minor in Architecture. He was planning for his Master in Architecture when I told him not to go. I wanted to grow this business, and I wanted at least one of my kids to help me. He agreed. Soon, Steve was trying to find his way. He was pulled in two directions, the marketing and graphics in the Yellow Pages advertising and the technology. I pushed him away from the marketing. It was too crucial to me. So, he naturally gravitated toward the equipment. At the time, the only piece of technology we had was a rickety old copier we used to create bills. It would be a few years before all of this would change. We didn’t realize that we would be at the center of the computer telephony revolution in just a few years. Having someone in place to support the new equipment became a vital part of our going-forward plans.

Lois Cornwall and Joan Harrell Lois and Joan worked for the comapny over 50 years 1976

Ding-a-Ling Answering Service 1975

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News: Ding-a-Ling’s success according to President Herman Shooster, “Lies in our people.” In many business situations, callers may be aggravated when reaching an answering service. The personalized service at Ding-a-Ling allows a company to have their phone answered exactly as they wish. In fact, the specially trained operators appear to be part of the business. Becuase operators are on hand continuously, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, they can field questions after-hours, during lunch breaks, or on necessity. Ding-a-Ling’s advertising emphasizes their service is, “live, courteous, and caring.” Caring is THE keyword at Ding-a-Ling. Customers and employees are equally important. Six Shooster family members work in the company, all according to Wendy, Herman’s daughter, in their own specialties. Dad, Herman, is an expert in marketing. Mom, Dorothy, excels in sales. Brother Steve is a whiz on the technical end. Brother Michael is in charge of the financial aspects. Wendy does sales and hiring, and sisterin-law, Diane (married to Steve), is the top salesperson. This is definitely a family business. But the sense of family surpasses the Shoosters; the employees feel they are family too. Being a long time employee is commonplace at Ding-a-Ling. The full-time operator trainer has worked at Ding-a-Ling nine years; one of the operator supervisors, 13 years; the collection department supervisor, 11 years, etc. The list goes on. Wendy, herself, grew up in the business. And learning the business from the ground up is also a company policy.

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“All our sales staff were operators first,” Wendy says. “If you’ve worked the phones you understand. It’s too hard to catch on to the business if you haven’t.” Another aspect of caring is the excellent benefits package Ding-a-Ling offers employees, reimbursement of child care, medical and dental insurance, pension plan, company credit union, bonuses and incentives, and profit sharing, etc. No doubt, this is another reason they retain employees with such longevity. Currently, Ding-a-Ling has three locations, with 160 people here in Broward County and another 50 at their Palm Beach location. Recently, they moved all the Broward operators to the 441 location, leaving the Oakland Park office as a sales office only. Wendy says there is space available, separate cubicles, if someone is interested in a place to work with minimum overhead. The space itself is $125 a month, and the FAX, copy machine, and secretarial assistance can be utilized for a nominal fee. Call Wendy at 566-6767 for details. Ding-a-Ling is also community caring. They recently provided telephone lines for OPERATION HOMEFRONT, maintained the hotline for Tiffany Sessions, and held a PHONE-a-THON for the March of Dimes.

1988 Excerpts from an unknown news article placed on Ding-a_Ling stationary for effect.

Stephen Shooster 1980’s

A few years after owning the compa ny, the switchboards were designated as end-of-life; Bellsouth was planning on ending support. We were forced to make a decision. Our trade magazines offered some solutions. We could buy our own switchboards or purchase some of the new gadgets being invented. We faced a critical decision with a limited budget. Having worked a few years with the switchboards turned out to be invaluable to running this business when it became computerized. We were well-grounded in the industry. For instance, we knew that one agent could just about handle 100 clients, a very important metric. The larger landscape was changing, too. In January 1982, a consent decree mandated by the U.S. courts broke up AT&T. In the process, BellSouth was created as our local phone provider; AT&T became a long-distance provider; West ern Electric spun out as an equipment supplier; and Bell Labs, a research center. For the first time in history, competition was fostered in the communications market. Hundreds of new companies were formed. All of those new companies had ideas other than switchboards that would take us to places we never imag ined. We’ve been riding the crest of that wave for over 30 years! Innovation and competition are the key drivers in our industry. The world was changing; it was quite a traumatic experience to live through. We could not have done it without Steve.

Michael joined us for a while, too. At first, I directed him to try to go out and sell answering services. He went knocking on doors. Mike recalled the early days with a bit of laughter. “Joe Brooks taught me how to do sales. He got a lifesized poster of an Eastern Airlines stewardess and had me drag it around. I was 18. I think Joe was 35 or 40, living in a nearby hotel. We propped up the poster with an easel upon entering a doctor’s office thinking it would get some attention. Then we made a pitch to the girl at the front desk. We tried this gimmick for 3-4 weeks before realizing we were getting nowhere.” Steve went out with Mike to sell answering service, too. They ended up at a new building, entered the elevator, pressed the top floor, and walked out into a fully furnished space. Trouble was, no one was on the floor. They were impressed. There was a conference room with a giant table surrounded by chairs. They sat at the ends of that big table, felt like kings, and took some of the flyers we were trying to pass out and made paper airplanes. It was a futile task. Knocking on doors was not the way to go about selling answering services. We were all frustrated trying. Joe Brooks moved on, Michael left and started his own business, and Stephen came back to the 293 office where I could watch him.

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ACQUISITIONS

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Early on, I reached out to our local competitors and asked them to join a meeting. No one had done that before. They readily agreed. We met at a hotel. I brought Steve with me. Everyone shared their experiences running an answering service. We created nice friendships and agreed to meet again. Over time, some of those owners felt they could trust me, and when they wanted to sell, I was given a chance. One of the main reasons they were selling was the daunting challenge of owning and operating computer equipment. It was expensive and needed constant attention. As early adopters, we were already committed. This is how we got to know, Donna Dudchok. She worked across the street from us at a competitor, Rapid Response. After closing on the purchase, the owner pulled me aside and said the first thing you want to do is get rid of that girl, referring to Donna. As it turns out he was wrong. Donna was a crackerjack at her job, a real keeper. She got along great with everybody, consistently earning Operator of the Week and eventually the Hall of Fame award. About a year later we moved her into our front office as a sales secretary. She created welcome packages and sent invoices with stickers instructing customers how to forward their phones. When people walked in off the street, she greeted them. My wife, Dorothy, coached her. Donna said, “Dorothy taught me the art of making a relationship into a long-term client.” Donna recalled listening to Dorothy say over and over, “Come on in and have a cup of coffee.” Dorothy always listened very carefully with genuine interest to the clients. It never seemed like sales. Often a potential customer would take her up on her offer to come in. She was genuinely earnest in saying an answering service can make a valuable difference to a small company. She always signed them up on the spot. Donna continued, “I also worked along with Wendy, Diane, and Stephen. At one point, Diane and I sat at the Coral Ridge office for a couple of months to collect payments and let people pick up their mail until everything moved to the new office in Margate.” Herman Shooster - the largest deal I ever made at the time was Proxy Answering Service. I sent our operations manager, Barbara Turner with Donna, to get them ready to transition to our office.

Yellow Pages Logo

Opportunities presented themselves along the way and we slowly got involved in the call center business. Donna helped me close our first customer, a vitamin company called Sun-Up/Sun-Down. We quoted him $300 to get started, $150 to set up, and $150 for the first month. He remained a client for almost ten years. Quickly, we learned call center clients required much more hand-holding than answering service customers. Donna helped to make sure everything was handled. Eventually, I hired a professional salesperson, Joe Blumenthal. When Joe came into the picture, a new era started. We learned lots of lessons in those early days. It wasn’t easy.

Joe Bluementhal

Donna Dudchock Jan. 13th, 1988

Donna’s reflections: “Stephen explained to me about the Internet and how eCommerce was the future. He showed me my first search engine. He also started a company with partners that developed software. That company audaciously became a competitor, so Stephen decided to cut them out of our systems and write his own software. In a short period, we were so proud of a patent he earned by doing this.” “Wendy always amazed me with her natural social and business skills. She knew everyone and could remember every detail about whose who in the business. She should have a Master’s Degree in social skills.” “Our new sales guy, Joe took a separate trip with each of the Shooster kids, Mike, Steve, and Wendy. When we asked him what did he learn? He said, from Michael I learned about finance, from Stephen I learned about technology, and from Wendy I learned that Mindy was Jane’s cousin. We couldn’t stop laughing.” “When Wendy’s husband, Max, came on board, the operations side of the business grew. He and Barbara Turner cultivated the secret recipe by finding great project managers and taking us to the next level of service.” “I believe, The secret of my success was learning from Herman and Dorothy to take pride in whatever I was doing; to always to be honest and to accept mistakes. They taught

me it’s OK just to be myself, and to always make decisions that will allow you to sleep at night. I also learned how to deal with hard issues when confronted and move past them. Herman would say, this too shall pass. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about doing the right thing for customers. Problems are opportuni ties to win the trust of clients on a long-term basis.” “The most important thing I learned was to never take NO for an answer when we wanted a customer’s business!” “The best part has been watching the families start, and their kids grow into the spectacular young people they are today. Each one of them is special, a reflection of the good ness of Herman and Dorothy’s lives.” Herman Shooster - When you buy a small company, you need to tread lightly. It has a culture, sensitivities, and customers that have loyalty to the people they work with. It’s called goodwill on the financial sheets, but it’s much more than that. It’s just common sense to give everyone a chance to feel included. I kept an open mind about Donna. It didn’t take long to realize she was a very capable solid citizen. All she needed were challenges to stay engaged. Eventually, she became a part of the core sales team with her dogged approach to getting things done. She is a very skilled team member who can be trusted with the vicissitudes of managing lots of customers.

Donna Dudchock with husband Kaz Paradise Cove, Hawaii Sponsored by Global Response, 2013

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Joan and Mark Harrell at the Company Picnic

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On Donna’s twentieth anniversary we sent her to Hawaii with her husband, Kaz. She remains one of our top salespeople today. In March of 1978, we bought Harrell’s answering service. It was owned by Mark and Joan Harrell. Joan was planning to stay a few months to help us transition. Over 40 years later she is still with us! Joan is the maven of the answering service. She is a wonderful people person with a heart of gold. Encouraging our staff, listening closely, and helping them to succeed is her specialty. On her twentieth anniversary, we sponsored her and her husband Mark to take the dream trip of a lifetime to Israel, not long after Mark passed away. Over the years we bought about half a dozen of our competitors, including one we could not have even considered in the beginning because they were too large, Proxy

Answering Service. They had offices in both Texas and Florida. We purchased the Florida portion of the business only. Before the purchase, I encouraged Steve to get his Real Estate license. It was just a side thing for him, but it came in handy. When we made the deal, we found they also owned their building and gave the listing to him. It took many weeks to move Proxy’s accounts to our office. It was a substantial busi ness. Meanwhile, the property was sold! That’s when Stephen got an obnoxious lesson in business he never forgot. He was summoned to visit the real estate broker. The broker sat him down, closed the door to his private office, and stared at him with intimidation while saying, “I don’t think you did enough to earn this sale. I want you to take a reduced commission.” Feeling indignant, Steve said, “I did exactly what I had to do, and I refuse to take anything less.” Calmly, he left disgusted, but got his full commission. That same year I also bought my home and Stephen was the sales agent. By the end of the year, he was awarded a certificate and pin for a million dollars in Real Estate sales. By this time I knew my business plan was working. In buying small companies and cutting the overhead, businesses that may not have been profitable became very profitable, and within a few years, our earnings were solid.

Proxy Answering Service Yerllow Pages ad.

FRANK AND CAROL BROOKS

Herman Shooster - Frank Brooks decided to go into the antique business in Tennessee after the sale of Ding-a-Ling. That didn’t last. The draw of beautiful Florida weather brought him back and he started another answering service in West Palm Beach called Ding-a-Ling. I wasn’t upset to have another Ding-aLing Answering Service in Florida. Answering services were local businesses. Our Fort Lauderdale location could not serve West Palm Beach under any circumstances. The wires could never reach that far. Frank Brooks was born in Newark, NJ. His dad, Joeseph Brooks, rode on a horse as a bugler during WW1. He must have been very courageous. When his father came home he sold fruit by the piece off the side of a wagon with his brother, a far cry from the glory of the battlefield. Suffering from depression, and saddled with emphysema due to smoking. He died when Frank was eleven. Frank’s older brother, Joeseph, was named after him. Frank started his career as a telephone company lineman, moving up the ranks quickly he became a commercial installer, sales engineer, and finally the director of marketing for N.J. Bell; the top position in the department. One of his largest clients was Standard Oil Company. He would help them figure out how to do whatever they needed. He said to me, that was ok, except that he worked for the telephone company. One day a client came into Frank’s office and asked him to build an answering service. He liked the concept and thought about doing the same thing for himself one day. Frank picked New Brunswick, NJ, making plans to build a house with a room for a switchboard. Then he took a vacation to Florida with his kids. He never looked back, Florida was going to be his new home. N.J. Bell would not transfer him. They said if we transfer you then everybody would go. Before moving, a consent decree split up the monopoly phone company and allowed competition into the market. N.J. Bell’s biggest competitor was International Telecom and Telegraph (ITT).

Frank and Carole Brooks

In 1968, Frank (age 34) got a job working for ITT of Florida, as the head of their Fort Lauderdale office. They hired him on the spot. He has a lot of charisma and all the skills they needed. Frank’s job was to close the sales. He sold large projects including Holy Cross Hospital. Then he sold five more hospitals. ITT paid him a salary plus commission. He made the top tier of his commission by the middle of the year. He told his boss to take the lid off the commissions to give him the incentive to keep selling. They wouldn’t so he had extra time on his hands and the money to purchase his switchboard. Ding-a-Ling answering service started while Frank was working for ITT. The name came from a conversation with his brother-in-law, who suggested, Ding-a-Ling. They laughed. It stuck. Frank’s assistant at NJ Bell, Lois Cornwall, also wanted to move to Florida. He hired her. Fifty years later she was still working at the company. Lois was the best of them all. Ding-a-Ling Answering Service started in 1971 in the dining room of the Brooks’ home. As soon as it opened a 24 hour a day vigil began. His wife couldn’t work all those hours. Lois filled in as needed. Lois was fantastic then and still is today. She always could do 299 everything.

Meanwhile, Frank’s brother Joe went on his own career path as a criminal and ended up in jail. When he got out of prison Frank made him a partner in the answering service. He did it out of respect for his family. It didn’t take too long before Joe started to return to his old ways. Joe brought some guys from N.Y. who wanted to bury money in a business (money laundering). They tried to talk Frank into selling the answering service. Frank didn’t want anything to do with that. Stephen Shooster - When I interviewed Frank Brooks after Herman was gone he told me, “With all of my business dealings I always appreciated how Herman Shooster was an honorable man. You could believe him. I didn’t have a lot of people I could trust. It seemed everyone could be bought. He couldn’t be bought. He and I had something going. I don’t know what it was, but we could sit down and talk to each other and level with each other. If I was in trouble he’d bail me out. He never asked me to sign this or sign that. If I needed money he would write a check. I would have done anything to help him. He ended up making a great successful business. He knew how to do things, but more importantly, he knew how to get others to get things done. Getting things done is not the same as doing them.”

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Herman Shooster - Frank taught me everything I knew about answering services. One of the things he explained is that the operators have to be supervised. Frank built a device that allowed him to tap into any of the switchboards and listen to the agents. Today, calls are recorded for quality control. He did the quality control manually. Frank’s second answering service grew nicely to about 400 clients when two of the telephone operators opened a competing answering service using their experience with his clients to steal them. One of the tactics they used was to call his accounts and leave phony messages for them. The clients would get upset making them willing to find a new service.

Frank figured out what was happening and called the girls at their new office. Distraught, he told them, “You can’t do that, you have non-compete agreements.” One of them transferred Frank to her father, Mr. Glenn Fedder, a banker. Fedder said, ‘Welcome to the business world, tough.’ Frank was determined to fight back, but the customers continued to disappear. He hired a law firm and sued the new company. He also tried to get an injunction which was denied. Before long, it was looking like the non-compete agreements were invalid, so the law firm said, we can’t take this case on contingency any longer. That is when my son, Frank Shooster, graduated from law school. He was already writing the legal collections letters for both of our clients when they failed to pay. This made him very familiar with answering services. Since the case against the girls was looking like we were going to lose, it was offered to my son. My son squashed the original case and opened a new one. This time suing for conspiracy based on tortious interference including Glenn Fedder, the bank he worked for, the new company, and everyone related. During discovery, he also found that Glenn Fedder used his position at the bank to get a loan for his daughter. Basically, they were taking advantage of insider information. While this case was going on we bought another answering service, Hotline Communications. Incredulously, one of the clients and our midnight agents colluded to steal that customer list, too! This time they were caught and someone went to jail. Meanwhile, we were heading for trial. During the discovery, Glenn Fedder was supposed to disclose his financial statement. He never did. At the courtroom during direct cross-examination, it came up and he said it was in his car. The trial was paused to give him a chance to present the evidence. We discovered his net worth was 11 mil. a staggering sum at the time.

The defendants changed tactics and tried to turn the case directly against Frank Shooster for the collections letters. They claimed his letters were malicious. The clerk was deposed who issued the letters and stated they were routine. The high point of the case was the cross-examination of Glenn Fedder. My son got an expert to prove that Fedder was a secret partner of the new company in surprise testimony. He also got a former employee to testify that one of the defendants admitted they were going to steal the client list from us. We won! The case closed with damages of 400K, plus 400K in legal fees, and another 400K in penalties. We traded the damages and penalties for their business. Plus, they were required to agree never to go back into the answering service business again. After the trial, both Mr. and Mrs. Fedder pleaded to Frank Brooks not to do this, but Frank stood by his principles and told them to close the business down. They put us through a lot of pain. I became Frank’s partner. We combined all of the customers from both the old office and the newly acquired one, bought new equipment and the business grew nicely. That was over thirty years ago. Palm Beach Busi ness Services, Inc., dba Ding-a-Ling Answer ing Service of Palm Beach, turned out to be one of the best investments I ever made. Frank

Congratulations Frank Brooks and Herman Shooster Company Picnic

Frank and Jeff Brooks

Brooks and I have never had an argument, and our families have grown close. All of his kids ended up working there, just as all of mine ended up working for me. We both achieved the dream of family-run businesses. Throughout the legal battles, I had a single mantra, “They were going to pay to get in this business one way or another.” There were some very harrowing moments, but in the end, it all worked out in our favor. Many years later, Frank Brooks was diagnosed with cancer. He was in his 80’s. The cancer was terminal, but he would not accept the diagnosis. One doctor offered him a solution with a single caveat. He said the treatment would cure his cancer, but at the same time, it would ruin his kidneys. Frank agreed and just as predicted the cancer was cured. Frank started kidney dialysis immediately after the treatment. He got back on his feet, able to keep exercising, including the strenuous sport of handball. That was his routine for years. He registered on the waiting list for a kidney transplant but had little hope of getting one due to his age. In 2013, his son, Jeff, donated a kidney to his father. Today, Frank is free of cancer and also free of dialysis. It is truly a miracle. Jeff is doing well, too. 301

SELF RELIANT TO A FAULT

Herman Shooster - 1976, our original office was located in the town of Coral Ridge, just north of Fort Lauderdale and a short ride to the beach. Frank Brooks liked to ride his bike there, so he installed a shower in the office to freshen up. The office was very small, about the size of a double trailer. It was located in the back of the building. Every little bit of space was important. I did not need that shower, so I decided to remove it. With the help of my son, Mike, I decided we could remove it ourselves. We picked up an Acetylene torch. Before we began, my wife said, “Why don’t you hire a plumber?,” and I said, “What do you know?” That’s when our manager, Lois, overheard me and decided to stay quiet. Mike and I began to heat up the part we wanted removed, but being inexperienced we failed to turn off the water, a big mistake. When we heated one side of the pipe the heat transferred to the other side eventually breaking the seal and spilling a flood of water out ahead of the valve with no way to turn it off! Water quickly started to flood our entire office. It was an emergency. We called the fire department. The whole room including where the switchboards and staff were located filled with water. We could not stop answering phones. The staff simply lifted their feet and kept on working. The water overflowed out the back door.

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Ding-a-Ling Billing card

Mesage Ticket

The fire department arrived, axes in hand, but they could not find the shut-off valve. Before long they started pounding those axes into the asphalt-covered driveway. The water main was covered by whoever installed a new driveway. They found the valve and turned it off. Looking back what happened was comical and the business suffered. We cleaned the place up, and the rest is a legend. EVERYTHING BY HAND

Everything was done by hand. Agents heard a ring and saw a light prompting them to connect a plug from the switchboard to answer the call, messages were handwritten and the billing was all calculated by hand. Dorothy typed about 65 bills every day. She did it all. She was the bookkeeper, main salesperson, and the person who called the customers that didn’t pay on time. She never took a day off, and when she got home-cooked dinner for our family. The simplicity of the business was charming. Messages had to be hand-counted by month’s end. It took a lot of effort to get it done on time. The only thing that was mechanical was the finicky copy machine. It printed flimsy copies of the billing cards we stuffed in window envelopes. Eventually, we purchased a sensitive scale that would allow us to weigh the paper of a single message. With it, we could count messages just by placing a stack of message slips on the scale.

Alphanumeric Pager

BEEPERS

Herman Shooster - In the early 1980s, radio pagers (beepers) came onto the market with a fanfare. These small devices combined with a telephone answering service were a perfect fit. Our business took off. We became the crucial link between a message and its notification. Beepers worked by dialing a phone number that would send a signal wirelessly to a small device on a user’s belt. All it did was beep. When it BEEPED you would contact whoever you gave the beeper number. In many cases that meant an answering service. Strange as it might seem to the mobile cellphone generation this was a huge leap in technology. Never before in human history could we alert someone anywhere as easily. Mobile phones also came onto the market around the same time. They were nothing like today’s ubiquitous cellphones. Very expensive, they could only be installed in a car. That’s because they were about 12 pounds and relied upon both car’s battery and a long add-on antenna. The range was limited, but the technology was another fantastic achievement. In 1985, Radio Common Carriers (RCC) were given the right to create agents who could resell beeper service for them. We were one of the first and most important in our area. Every one of our clients was a candidate, and many would need more than one. I remember the first batch of beepers we bought from Motorola. I took a loan for 50K. Our cost was between $150-$200 per unit. We paid $12 monthly to the RCC. The retail rate was about $25 monthly, plus the answering service. Sales took off the moment they arrived.

Innovation moved quickly, and soon digital beepers came out allowing anyone to send a phone number directly to the user. In this way, the user could avoid calling the answering service. Industry pundits predicted that digital paging would be the end of the answering service business. Yet, we found ways to make digital beepers work for us, too. I don’t recall a single customer canceling for this reason, in fact, the reverse, beeper sales kept climbing. We had 1,000’s of beepers on the street, close to 5,000 at the height of the craze. It was an exciting time. I knew these were good times, but I also felt that the beeper business would soon become a commodity. Flush with profits, we were very tempted to build our own radio towers. I steered us away from the temptation. My kids were enamored with beepers and felt differently. One of my friends, Howard Gross, owned Sunshine Answering Service, in Miami, went ahead with this strategy and built towers. Peter Gross said it was the best investment they ever made. Just as I predicted, the beeper business became a commodity. It didn’t happen overnight, but there was no stopping the demise once small beeper-sized cellular phones came onto the market. We tried to get into that business too, but the cellular carriers made it uninviting.

Digital Beeper

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THE CUTTING EDGE

We were among the first telephone answering services to install new computer technology. Our first foray into the world of computers was with an early system called, Telescan. This small unit, painted blue, sat on a desk with just a couple of buttons and a small three-digit numerical screen. Six operators were placed around a table with a carousel holding our client’s instructions and the messages we collected. A call with a flashing number prompted the agent to pull the instruction card from the carousel and press a button to answer. Seasoned operators would learn these instructions by memory. Once the message was taken another agent would dispatch it as needed. The system worked by using, Call Forwarding. Clients would forward their calls to one of a block of phone numbers we provided. It was a huge advancement, but a worrisome task. It forced us to rely upon the client’s secretary not forgetting to forward the calls. It became especially troublesome at 5 pm when everyone wanted to go home at the same time. Call Forwarding changed our business overnight. It opened the market to whoever could dial one of our phone numbers toll-free.

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Telescan computerized switchboards. Ding-a-Ling Answering Service, West Palm Beach 1986

In other words, just about all of Broward County. Our market potential went from hundreds of businesses to thousands, overnight. In one fell swoop, we achieved the first milestone I set for the company when it was originally named, Broward Business Services. Now we could service all of Broward County! Soon, we added blocks of numbers for Dade and Palm Beach giving us another huge leap in marketability. The bottom line, we started to grow. Innovation continued at a quicker pace after that. We found each new feature essential. For example; Call Forward - No Answer, solved the problem of someone forgetting to forward their phone. Multipath Call Forwarding allowed us to take more than one call at a time from a single phone number enabling inbound telemarketing. These features also created ‘stickiness’ with our clients. They required orders with the phone company to make changes. Clients were more apt to deal with service issues instead of switching to a competitor. We became an essential part of hundreds of businesses. Also, with an inventory of hundreds of phone numbers, we could issue them directly so clients could advertise in the newspaper or on television with our numbers.

Agents surropund Telescan switchboards. 1986 Ding-a-Ling Answering Service, West Palm Beach

A new industry evolved, Telemarketing. Calls would roll in like waves from television commercials. Our biggest challenge became how to staff for them. Many times these calls would come during the middle of the night when we had the least amount of staffing and they had the lowest advertising costs. We found ourselves making money, but also driving clients away. During a wave of calls, we might miss an important one or be slow to pick up another. We tried to add a machine to answer the calls and put the callers into a queue, but that went against our sales pitch of a ‘Live Answer.’ If one of these larger clients was successful with their TV ads, they would leave us and go to a much bigger company. It was a catch-22. If we added staff, and our customers did not advertise our profits would disappear. Worse we could lose money. If we didn’t, we would miss the spikes. Our customers were very savvy and familiar with this dilemma. They knew they couldn’t do it themselves. We needed a new pricing model to solve the problem. We could no longer charge per call for large clients. COMPUTER TELEPHONY CONVERGENCE

As the equipment began to change so did Stephen’s job. He found himself frequently near the wall where the telecom circuits were installed with an orange butt set. A butt set is a fancy phone with alligator clips used by telecom repairmen. With it, you could attach to a set of pins and monitor a telephone circuit. The circuits needed constant attention. Our local telephone repairmen trained him. Soon, it was time to take the next big step, a full-fledged computerized telephone answering service system. We narrowed the search to two vendors, Tascom and Amtelco. Steve liked Amtelco because it was software-based making it more easily upgraded, but I chose Tascom, a hardware-based system, mainly because it was being sold by a giant public company called Conrac Alston. I reasoned that I wanted to make sure if we are going to bet the company on technology, I wanted a vendor to be around to help us support it over the long run.

When we first bought our new system I took my top two managers whose judgment I respected, Lois Cornwall and Barbara Turner, to California for training. The new systems required all the operators to type on a keyboard. This was something that made me very leery. We never did that before. One of my biggest concerns at the time was how we were going to find enough staff that could type. It was a real fear. I got cold feet and tried to back out of the contract. I was convinced we would never be able to find enough operators with typing skills! It took Lois, Barbara, and the president of the company to cool me down and assuage my fears. They all assured me that we could do it! We installed our first Tascom system and joined the users’ group. Those meetings were split between operations and technology. I would often go with an operations manager, and Steve would represent us on the technical track. During the early years, we were all like sponges. It felt like we were small potatoes in a big pot. I remember one member of the user’s group, Max Kelley of Kelley’s Answering Service, Seattle, Washington. They had multiple centers and thousands of clients. I admired the owner, Max Kelley. He employed all of his kids. They were the best example of my own dream.

Steve at initial TASCOM training in California wearing a keyboard shirt in front of a rented Chevy Mustang. 1988

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Ding-a-Ling Answering Service 1987 Storefront Window - Beepers / Beepers /Beepers 2654 East Oakland Park Blvd., Fort Lauderdale, Florida. 566-6767 Wide-Area Beepers / ‘Your Phone or Ours’

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A few years after we were fully established with Tascom, Steve recalled raising his hand in a users group meeting suggesting that they should support different fonts and colors. He wanted to emphasize critical parts of the operator scripts so that we could cut back on errors. He told me he was ridiculed with abrupt comments that it will never happen. At that moment he decided to build his own software. One day this propelled us to become a far bigger company. One of the key limits of a call center is the cost of an operator station. Our closed systems had a lot of features, but they couldn’t support 100‘s of stations, nor could we afford them. Answering Service systems weren’t designed for scaling. Fast forward to 2014 and our answering service system is just under 150 positions, while the call center is close to 1,500 all running the software we built. (2018 - 2,500) With the installation of our new computerized systems, we transformed into a state-ofthe-art Company. Pushing the edge, Stephen joined a local computer software hackers club, where he enlisted a couple of fellows to make

a system that could deliver messages via fax machines. The advent of fax machines was another stunning new technology that every business was beginning to purchase. Thinking he had something valuable, he incorporated it as, Mission Control Enterprise, Inc. and started selling fax servers to our competitors. It wouldn’t be long before, he got a huge life lesson. The fellows who wrote the software could not figure out how to resolve the bugs that went along with the technology. This left Stephen spending countless hours every day supporting his customers. Luckily, before he shared any of the revenues, he contacted his competitor and handed him the clients and the money. Bruised, he got his life back. Undaunted, he tried again with another product and succeeded. Our operation (1976) was in the backroom of a storefront retail building. It was just a little wider than a trailer with a single small office. In 1985, the storefront contiguous with our back office became available. We took a chance and rented it. Now we had a rather large room, bigger

Ding-a-Ling Interior 1987

than the whole operations area with access to the main street. I put up a sign out front as large as I could on top of a green awning stating proudly, “Ding-a-Ling Answering Service.” It could be seen from Oakland Park Boule vard by all the traffic coming and going to the beach. Up until that point, all of our business was done on the phone. I did not know what to expect with a retail location, but we were up for the challenge. At first, I was all alone in that large room. While sitting there at my desk, I sometimes wondered if I was crazy paying all the additional rent on a hope and a prayer that somehow we would come to need it. Stephen joined me making a little room for himself across from my desk. Then Dorothy and soon a few more. We also placed signs in the window, BEEPERS FOR SALE. Clients walked in off the street. One day news cameras came rolling in with a reporter trying to intimidate us with a scam story associated with answering services he was working on. We had nothing to hide. I smiled from ear-to-ear and gave them a tour, too. Answering services are used by all kinds of clients, from doctors to plumbers, carpet installers to any kind of service or sales business, including individuals that wanted their calls screened privacy.

Dorothy Shooster, standing in front of an original Tascom terminal. Dec. 1984

Wendy Shooster-Leuchter Aug. 8, 1987

Diane Shooster, 1987

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Herman, Dorothy and Stephen Shooster Front page of Tascom Advertisment, late 1980. artist rendering

Herman Shooster interview Backpage Tascom Advertisment, late 1980.

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EXTORTION!

October, 16. 1988, I took my wife and Wendy to an answering service convention in the Bahamas. The association liked to have the conventions at exotic locations. I left Steve at home to take care of things while we were gone. 4 AM the next night Steve got a call from Joan Harrell, working the night shift. She said that the system was down. Steve rushed over to the office. What unfolded was a serious crime.

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Joan Harrell Affidavit: On Oct. 17, 3 am I was the night supervisor and the only person on staff at Dinga-Ling answering Service. Late at night, someone identified himself as Stephen’s assistant. He was wearing a company T-shirt. I opened the door and he said he was going to run some tests per Stephen’s instructions. He said he wanted to do the tests prior to normal working hours so as to not disrupt the morning traffic. He said he would be testing the tapes. I told him he could not do anything with the tapes until 4 am since I was running a backup. He said no problem he would do a few things in the front office until then. At 4 am I saw a pile of tapes near the back up machine and asked what were they doing there. He said he was planning to test them. I said ok. A few minutes later I saw him place the tapes in a duffel bag and asked what he was doing. He said it was easier to bring them into the computer room. I was distracted by a phone call. After the call was over the technician said as soon as this call is over the system is going down for a few minutes so I can begin testing. Moments later there was a loud pierc ing sound through the office and a bright flashing light on the computer screens. Then everything went dead. I complained about the noise to the technician, but it did not stop. I yelled again to him to please stop the noise. He went to his car and never returned. The noise continued for about 5 minutes. At that point, I called Stephen Shooster.

Stephen Shooster Affidavit: Oct. 17, 1986, 4:25 am, I received a call from Joan Harrell, night supervisor. She advised the system was shut down and all the backup tapes were missing. She further stated that she saw our technician packing all the tapes in a duffle bag. I told her I did not authorize any actions that night. I arrived at 4:45 am and discovered the following: 1. All backup tapes missing 2. Computer systems shut down 3. Backup system shut down improperly. 4. Entire system unplugged 5. We could not take or receive phone calls including emergency calls jeopardizing all of our clients’ callers, including potentially life-threatening calls for doctors. 6. Keys to the computer cabinets missing preventing access to the systems. 7. $1,600 in cash missing I initiated steps to restore the system over the next two hours. After getting things working I discovered a type written letter on our stationery, demanding 65K! The letter indicated more than one person was involved in the theft. It also said do not contact the authorities or else. I immediately contacted the police and took steps to hire both an armed guard and a private detective. The letter stated I could not get the systems working without his help. I ignored his threat and restarted the system, successfully. Once the system was settled I found additional items missing: 8. 100-175 beepers with a value of 30-50K 9. The technician’s employment records. 10. The technician’s beeper contract with a copy of his driver’s license. 11. Two company checkbooks. 12. Company books and records. 13. Floppy diskettes for the billing system. 14. A master list of clients including their private information. 15. The key cabinet was broken and all the keys were missing.

Over the next few days, I was contacted multiple times by the extortionist. At one point I was told to go to Tradewinds park and pay the ransom. I went immediately to the police. An officer was assigned. Together we went to the park as instructed. We arrive after hours. It was a dark rainy night. Perfect for an ambush. The officer contacted a park ranger to open the gate. As instructed, we drove to the first stop sign. There was a note taped to the back of the sign. It said to go to the back of the park to another stop sign. The police officer remarked This kid has watched too many movies. We found a second note, but it led to nowhere, so we left the area empty-handed. Messages went back and forth using alphanumeric pagers. Emboldened by the systems working and tiring of the abuse, I finally started to push back. I told him I am now going after him. I was angry, shaken, but determined. On October, 18th. 3 pm, I received a call from the extortionist. He confirmed he had all of the things listed above in duffel bags at a concealed location and he was no longer interested in the 65K. He wanted a letter stat ing that we would decline prosecution. He demanded that the letter be signed by my father, myself, and police officer, Caballero, delivered to his former roommate. I agreed. During that call, he wanted to know why I did not go to Tradewinds Park. He said he waited for 1 1/2 hours. At this point, I told him I’m not going to give him any letter and that it meant nothing since it was being requested under duress. I reiterated, it was in his best interest to return our property, no strings attached. He agreed, and we hung up. About 45 minutes later I received an another telephone call stating the company property was in the possession of his former roommate. At 3 PM that afternoon, I went to the apartment with a private investigator, John Dillon. We retrieved the property from the trunk of a car and obtained a statement from the roommate.

Sun Sentinel Weds. October 22, 1986. By David Uhler

I took inventory and discovered: 1. Magnetic tapes were destroyed due to moisture. 2. 128 beepers. 25% in damaged condition. 3. Company books and records. 4. $1,600 in cash was missing. 5. Master list of customers was not returned. It has a value of 250K. An arrest warrant was issued on Oct. 17 with the following: FLPD Case Number 86-172812 1. Tampering of computer systems in violation of F.S. 815.05(3) - Tampering with a public communication system. Second-degree felony. 2. The perpetrator took an excess of 20K of property. F.S. 812.014(2)(a) Second-degree felony. 3. The perpetrator caused an excess of 1K in damages. F.S. 806.13(3), criminal mischief a 3rd-degree felony. Herman Shooster - It took two days to get a flight home from the Bahamas. Needless to say, we were too anxious on the trip to enjoy any of it. By the time we arrived home, Steve had all of our stolen materials back, and the kid that did it was a fugitive. We had dodged 311 a bullet.

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Extortion Letter Oct. 17, 1986

Extortion Letter Continued Oct. 17, 1986

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SHOP-BY-PHONE

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My son Michael, built a decent business by himself, five retail stores, and a warehouse to support them. He was selling novelty T-shirts, license plates, Shop-By-Phone Logo 1992 and keys. It was a tough business, but he was earning his way. All of his retail locations were located inside of Ames Department Stores. Each was a self-contained kiosk in front of the cash registers staffed by his employees. There was a vacuum system near those cash registers used to send the money to a secured location within each building. I suggested to Mike to use that system to make it easy for him to securely manage his cash. He followed my suggestion. It was a big mistake. Without notice, Ames declared bankruptcy, and Mike’s stores and his money was tied up in the chaos. He was devastated. I helped him out, and he sold the company. That is when he decided to join us. To make a little room for himself, he learned I was having trouble with clients who wanted to sell things over the phone. Direct marketing on television was just getting started. Our clients had difficulty getting merchant status to accept credit cards for phone sales. They would sign up contingent on getting merchant status and then never return. Around this time, we also met Bob Case, a local Merrill Lynch investment banker. He had his eye on our business. Mike and Bob started playing racketball together. During one of those sessions, Mike challenged Bob to help him get the rights to provide credit card processing for our clients. Bob accepted. Months later Bob told us that the credit card processor he engaged to help us just got burned by a company similar to ours. Needless to say, they were reluctant to provide merchant services to another telemarketing company. Bob went on to say, “That was their position until I offered them a million-dollar guarantee on your company.”

Michael Shooster with Forest Shooster (Front Right) and Staff at Global Response Fullfillment

I was dumbfounded. This fellow who hard ly knew me extended a guarantee to our little company and soon after we got the ability to provide merchant services. Mike, packaged the new service as “Shop-By-Phone,” and out of that small beginning came a new division eventually occupying 65,000 square feet of warehouse space providing 3rd party logistics. A few memorable accounts used Shop-ByPhone. I was surprised by the amount of business those companies could garner. One sold collectible stamps of Marilyn Monroe. That same company sold Elvis stamps. I would have sworn Elvis was still alive based on the volume of orders that poured in. The most important company to use Shopby-Phone was Proctor and Gamble. A new low pollution washing machine was brought on to the market along with regulations designed to ensure acceptance. The new machine was side loading, instead of top-loading, using less water. It required a special type of soap. Since very few of those machines were in homes there was no place to buy the soap. That is where we came in. The machines were sold with a coupon that prompted the buyer to call an 800 number to order the soap. Soon, we received truckloads of soap and phone orders. To make things sweeter for the buyers a free hand towel was offered with each box. Thousands of boxes were sold. Many were repeat orders. The 5,000 sq. ft. of storage we started with was full. The funniest part was that we did not have a warehouse at the time. So, we bought a forklift

and used our call center space. Giant tractor-trailers delivered palettes of soap to us and since we had no way to accept them in a proper warehouse they would drop the pallettes on the access roads around our building. We would then scoop them up with the forklift and bring them inside. On delivery days the whole parking lot was filled with palettes of soap. I’m glad it didn’t rain on those days or our street might have been filled with suds. Proctor and Gamble audited our workmanship on a scheduled basis. When they found everything shipshape they prepaid us for the quarter. It must have been easier for them to write a single check. For me, it was like a free loan. I’m glad that we saw the market need for credit card processing and did something about it. BOB CASE

Bob Case - The first time I saw Ding-A-Ling Answering Service I knew it was an integral part of the direct marking phenomenon that was happening around us. They had everything thing you needed; phone lines, people, and enough scale to begin Robert Case taking calls for television commercials and newspaper advertisements. I saw their potential the first time I visited the office. I met them when they just moved into a small retail storefront across the street from my office. They had about 25 employees at the time. I was running The Gold Coast Executive Network, a local networking group, and enticed Herman to join. One of our members hired Ding-a-Ling, then went on a national talk show and mentioned their phone number. The switchboards lit up. Trouble surfaced when that fellow refused to pay the bill. I tried to arbitrate the payment with both parties. I was upset because I didn’t like how the fellow was treating Herman. They both knew it.

After that lunch, Herman asked me to manage his finances. I built a trusting relationship that made him feel appreciated. Since that day, I have had a very special relationship with the whole family. During a slowdown in the economy, Herman and I planned a valuation of the company. It was the perfect time. We used that value as part of a gifting plan for each of his children. Each was given an equal part in the small company. The rest is history. 777 PROPERTIES

Herman Shooster - We moved into our current headquarters at 777 S St. Rd 7, in Margate, Florida on 08/08/1988. We rented a small office. 3,000 sq. ft. in a 40,000 sq. ft. building that was part of an office complex including four buildings. The buildings were split into small office spaces and rented. I made a special request in our lease to give us the first right of refusal for adjacent space. The landlord agreed, shifting tenets around as we found a need for additional space. Eventually, when we were renting half the building, the landlord suggested we purchase the whole thing. We followed his advice and took ownership of the property. The business kept growing and we started renting space in the next building. In 2002, we rented a shipping center about two miles away in a warehouse district. Because we do lots of client tours we found the distance to be inconvenient. To solve this, Mike, wanted to buy the 32 acres of vacant land next to our office and build a warehouse in our backyard. Mike went to the City of Margate and met with the zoning director, Bob Meehan. He asked if the property could be re-zoned for a warehouse. Bob said, absolutely not. Within a few weeks, a billboard went up on the land showing a 20 ft image of a warehouse. Exactly what we wanted. It was odd because the sign was facing us on our private street, not the main road. Mike went back to Bob and told him about the sign. Bob said it would be taken down. Then he gave Mike a challenge, Do you want me to teach you how to buy the property? Mike listened. He said buy it “As-Is.” Do not try and 315 change anything.

It is somewhat of a misnomer to call Ding-a-Ling an answering service. “We actually are a telemessaging service,” explains Wendy Shooster-Leuchter, VP in charge of sales and personnel. the difference lies in the personalized services offered by Ding-a-Ling. Our customer has a myriad of choices: Telephone answering service, 24 hours, seven days a week provided by live operators; Instant beeping; 800 numbers for order taking; The fulfillment of the orders; 900 numbers; Outbound telemarketing; Voice mail; Message pick up by FAX or small custom printer; A vast selection of digital vibrating pagers, including wristwatch beepers, and basic beepers along with designer cases, etc. Sound confusing. The sales staff is expertly trained to assist customers in the selection of the service or services that will best suit their needs. Ding-a-Ling also offers businesses an address where you can receive mail and hang an occupational license, shaving many dollars off the cost of available setting up a business. And a Ding-a-Ling telephone calling card is available for customers to use for long-distance phoning.

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Gold Coast execurtive Network Newsletter, April 24th, 1991

Mike did some research and found an insurance company owned the land for the last 20 years. They were willing to sell it. Mike offered them 1/2 of what they wanted. They accepted. We used the cash value of my life insurance policy for the down payment and got a loan for the rest. The land sat there, and we started paying the loan and the taxes. In 2004, the real estate market heated up around the world creating a bubble with about 25% gains yearly. These gains inspired Broward County to create a bond fund to purchase all the green spaces left in our region. They wanted to turn them into parks before they were turned into more housing and offices. Our 32 acres including 20 acres of wetlands, and was number five on their list. The bond was approved, and the landowners were contacted. We were offered a small amount for the wetlands. The offer was not exciting, so we were slow to respond. The market was still heating up and no one had any idea what was going to happen. Another offer came in for the same 20 acres with an extraordinary bid. We were flabbergasted. That is when we looked carefully and found the wetlands were not protected and could be turned into residential property. None of us wanted to see those beautiful old trees cut down to make room for more housing, so we went back to the county and offered them the property at the same price with one stipulation, we wanted to name it, The Herman and Dorothy Shooster Preserve. The County was willing to meet the price, but reluctant to agree to the naming rights. A hearing determined the outcome. The whole family went down to the Broward Courthouse to listen to the legislators. When the issue was finally presented few words were spoken. One of the commissioners explained that asking for naming rights was problematic because others will want to do the same. Additionally, he said they normally don’t name properties after living people. That is when he asked, How do we know there are no skeletons in your parents’ closet? My son, Frank, stood and said, Honor thy Father and thy Mother. That’s all he said. There was silence followed by some facial expressions and the strike of a gavel. The County bought the property.

Micheal Shooster with Hardhat

It was a stupendous win for us. Many of my kids wanted the cash. I would not allow it. We turned around and bought the rest of the campus where we were located, the building behind us, the 767 Building, two more down the street, 541 and 441 State Road 441, and we also bought the warehouse we were using. Considered as a whole we created a full-fledged real estate company. Everyone prospered on the sale, and Mike took a little extra pride. Two years later we got slammed by Hurricane Wilma. It caused over two mil. in damages. Each building had its own insurance policy. All the claims were settled except for the 777 building. Twelve years later we won that case. The bottom line; we leveraged the sale of the wetlands leaving us with bank loans on each new property that one day will be paid off. Emboldened by the sale, we also bought two more acres of land at the corner of 441 and Sample road. That property sat for many years until 2012 when a deal was made to sell it to a development company specializing in senior housing. The caveat for that sale depended on a federal grant. They got the grant and the sale was completed.

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LOVE IS IN THE AIR

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The Herman and Dorothy Shooster Preserve

Diane Rubin joined Ding-a-Ling Answering Service at the age of 17. She had a great smile and a nice customer service attitude. Prior to working with us she was in high school and working on weekends as a server for the local Shriners club. She started working as a telephone agent. Wendy promoted her to sales. She joined our front office. She understood our services intimately. She was a fast learner full of the wild enthusiasm of youth. Stephen fell for her. Before they went on the first date, Rabbi Labowitz walked into our office, and Stephen said he was going to marry that girl, pointing to Diane. They both were dating other people and both complaining about what was missing in their relationships. Establishing a friendship, Stephen set Diane up on a date that turned out to be a disaster. As they got to know each other better he wanted to spend more time with her. She agreed. They decided to go to the beach. Diane brought her boyfriend, and Steve brought his canvas. He made a painting of the beach while she went frolicking in the surf. Something clicked, and one day Stephen told us that Diane was moving in. He hadn’t discussed this with her, so she was a bit embarrassed. We embraced her with open arms. Stephen saw an announcement for the next answering service convention to be held in Hawaii. Thinking that would be the perfect honeymoon he took her to a local restaurant and proposed. They were married by Rabbi Labowitz at the Marriott on Fort Lauderdale beach. It was a beautiful wedding. Diane’s role changed as the business needed. She was a big help. Eventually, as the company grew, the most critical role I found for her was auditing the bills. Thousands of dollars were found each month as the complexity grew the need for a more careful approach to billing.

Mr. and Mrs. Stephen and Diane Shooster May 14th, 1989

FAMILY BUSINESS

The story got a little bit ahead so let me take you back a few years. My daughter Wendy married Max Leuchter and was living up north while completing her education. She went to Temple University earning a degree in Art Education while he went to Temple Law School. After graduation they moved to Florida where Max started to practice law. Around the same time, my son, Frank, graduated from law school, The University of Miami. For a while, the two boys worked together. Then Max got a job with the Florida State Attor ney’s office. When Frank graduated law school, I mentioned to him that I thought something fishy was happening with a 7/11 store I owned in Media, Pennsylvania. There was an agreement that I, as the landowner, was required to sign for alcohol sales. I recalled that I hadn’t received one of those forms in a few years and suspected foul play.

Frank went to Philadelphia to investigate, and he found someone audaciously took my signature from a previous year, cut it out, and stapled it to the following year’s form! How blatant can you get? Frank sued them for all kinds of malfeasance, and we won handily. Meanwhile, Wendy joined the company, and now I had three kids in the business (Michael, Stephen, and Wendy), so, I decided to make it bigger. Everyone, expressed interest, even Max, and Frank. At the time, I couldn’t see a proper role for them. Today, I can’t see the business without them. Dorothy and I did accomplish one thing that may, in the long run, transcend all the business accomplishments; we built a genuine family business. Eventually, every member of the family and their spouses worked together in harmony, with each member making a real and valuable contribution to the welfare of the whole enterprise. This doesn’t mean that the family members didn’t have spirited discussions or even occasional arguments. After all, this is a group of highly intelligent, opinionated people. But, at the end of the day, they all wanted what’s best for the customer, and each recognized the talent and value of the other. Their spouses also joined the company. They are each extraordinary people who I have come to think of as my own children. Max, Diane, and Liz have each made incredible contributions to the success of the family and the business. In one funny anecdote, Mike was the last to get married. I told him to find someone with a degree in HR, welcome Alizabeth Shooster, with her Bachelor in Human Resources from the University of Michigan. THE 800 NUMBER REVOLUTION

1984, the phone company came out with another nifty idea, free nationwide calling via 800 numbers. If a caller dialed an 800 number, the company who they were calling would pay the long-distance fee instead of the caller. It took off. Everyone liked to call toll-free. Suddenly, we could take calls from anywhere in the USA! There seemed to be no end to our 319 potential for growth.

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With 800 numbers the concept of a call center was also born. We went along with the trend and added a DBA to our company, Communication Service Centers (CSC). The company was doing well. Beepers were a huge profit maker. Our original office by the beach was out of space. It was time to take the next step. We opened a new office from scratch a few miles west in the bedroom community of Margate, Florida. As soon as we opened our profits shrank. Opening a new office is a tremendous expense. Not just the equipment, but staff needed to be hired around the clock. To offset the costs we placed all our new customers at the new location. Eventually, it was paying its way, but still, the profits sagged. I kept my eyes on the financials and took myself off the payroll. I was satisfied with our progress, but I knew I was making a calculated risk to grow the company. It took great resolve during those earlier years to stay the course. I had already lived through an over-expansion at Shooster’s Drive-in, years prior, and I did not want a repeat of that to happen ever again. This time, I believed, as long as I watched our financials and focused on sales we would make it work. Our new office drove Stephen crazy. The computer systems required constant attention and maintenance. He said he felt like a circus clown spinning plates. As soon as he got to the last one, he had to spin the first one again. His responsibility ratcheted up. He was capable, but getting stretched. To make things easier for him and more profitable for us, we decided to close the old office. This resulted in placing two large Tascom answering service systems side-by-side in our new office. Having two systems gave us an ace in the hole when we realized we could allocate a single 800 number across both of them. Direct marketing was taking off. Using staff from both of our systems doubled our ability to manage the traffic. Still, something was wrong with our business plan. We found it impossible to staff the late-night hour for short bursts of calls. Giant

Michael and Alizabeth Shooster

companies sprang up to take orders for phone calls based on television ads. The Home Shopping Network was one of them. We just hoped for a piece of the action. Small marketers bought cheap remnant television ad space in the middle of the night and expected us to take the calls. It would take us years to learn we were going after the wrong market. When we figured it out, we did not allow those clients anymore. Just about every answering service was trying to make the change to become a call center, few did. The technology was changing rapidly. We found ourselves on the cutting edge. Sometimes we’d get cut, but if we were careful, each advancement would also help our clients. The next advancement arrived with alarms from the answering service association. They were fearful that the phone company had an unfair advantage in selling a new service called, Voice Mail. Voice Mail is a robotic answering service. The problem was that when a client called the phone company for a new phone line, they would be offered voice mail before we had a fair chance to make a competing offer. Our industry association decided to fight. It was against my advice, but they did it anyway. How could such a small association fight a giant corporation?

Dorothy, Herman, Wendy, Stephen, Diane, Michael, Alizabeth

Realizing voice mail was a hot new technology, we bought our own and found a mildly successful niche market. Later, that technology would become embedded in every part of the call center of the future. Our answering service systems were not designed to be a call center. To handle the deficiency, Stephen worked feverishly. He placed a personal computer next to each station. The agents would answer the call on one system and take an order on the other. The system worked fine, but we needed better software to handle the challenges our clients demanded. It was something you couldn’t buy. It had to be built, and we had to figure it out to grow. Enter, Patrick O’Shea. Pat, a Navy veteran and software engineer. He started us with a simple program that allowed us to build custom forms. The software cured lots of problems, but we still had a lot to learn. Pat was a very busy guy. One day he was studying a lengthy report with his head down as he was walking. At the same time, my son, Mike, blasted through a door not realizing Pat was on the other side, and hit him on the head. Pat dropped and had to go to the hospital. Once we knew he was ok, Steve brought him his laptop. Our clients always needed attention. There was no way around it.

In another incident, we were always adding wires and stations. I don’t think Stephen would ever have called an electrician to install a cable if he could do it himself. One time he and his assistant got a ladder and started drilling holes in the ceiling. A part of the concrete roof sheared off, and a sharp edge dropped on his assistant’s head creating a gash. His assistant had to be rushed to the hospital. Head wounds bleed profusely. He was ok, but they had to be more careful from that point forward. Today, we have four full-time electricians and two full-time construction people. It didn’t take long to find out that the call center was a completely different type of business than an answering service. The buyers were knowledgeable and interested in far more than price. When we got our first big call center customer, we also got a lesson in dealing with receivables. They racked up a large bill in just one month, not the usual $75 to $150 we were accustomed to. It was thousands of dollars. It was a nervous feeling to wait for payment after you’ve already paid the salaries of the employees. Receivables can take 90 days for payment. We needed a bank to help us with the gap. 321

It’s a Great Day and CSC. Back (left to right): Carol Coleman, Diane Shooster, Unknown, Unknown Front: (left to right) Unknown, Donna Dudchok, Wendy Shooster-Leuchter, Dorothy Shooster

Earning the confidence of this new type of client was not easy. We had our head handed to us more than once. Yet, despite our fears, we grew, perhaps more slowly than some of our spectacular competitors, but still, we did significant business with a lot of potentials. A couple of our competitors created huge businesses within a few short years, and some of those same companies would fall just as quickly. For me, the livelihood of running my own business, staying out of debt, and giving my family a chance to grow was the main goal. I couldn’t risk everything. I was already 60 years old. One thing is certain; I could not have accomplished as much as I did were it not for the substantial contributions of my wife and my children and their families. CREATING A CALL CENTER

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We decided to create a call center. Stephen wanted to build it himself. I encouraged him, and we visited a local call center run by AT&T. While visiting, I asked our guide how long does it take to train these people? I was told six weeks. Then I asked how long do they stay? He said three months. I turned towards Stephen

and said, “We can’t learn anything from these people,” and cut the visit short. He bought a used Nortel phone system and started to build it. Not wanting extra costs for the telephone circuits he invented a gadget called a loop start to ground start converter. It worked like a charm, saving hundreds of dollars monthly. Next, he installed multiplexers. They could compress voices digitally, further reducing our costs without affecting the quality. Making strides, his next advancement was the channel bank. The phone company started offering digital circuits called T-1s. One of these four-wire circuits could replace 24 phone lines, creating another significant savings. It also worked like a charm. Soon, he had a rack full of them. Our computer room was growing. Finally, he got to the core of a call center, the automatic call distributor (ACD). While Wendy and I started to focus on selling call center services, he focused on perfecting the experience. We still needed a lot of things, all capital intensive; a generator, back-up batteries, software, a computer network, and cubicles.

Wendy Shooster-Leuchter Perfecting the CSC message. 100 positions

1993

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INTERACTIVE RESPONSE TECHNOLOGY

Cubicals built on Speculation 1994 Two monitors, one for answering service, other for call center. A single keyboard designed by Stephen Shooster controls both devices.

In many ways, the answering service was at least ten years ahead of the call center industry in technology. The primary feature the answering service had was screen pop, the coordination of a phone call with a computer screen. We were very familiar with this feature. As we applied our focus to the call center, we took the focus off the answering service, and it suffered. Mike was watching the books seeing its demise. I was coaching him saying, a business has a lifecycle. He would have none of that. He bumped the marketing costs and made sure it flourished. Eventually, the name the names changed: Ding-aLing became Answering Service Care, and the call center was at first called Communication Service Centers until it finally became Global Response. We were growing, earning an impeccable reputation along the way. When also learned that unlike the answering service when a client cancels you must let the people associated with the project go. This might have been the single most important lesson we learned about running a call center; The day a project is over is the day the people must be released.

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Call Centers need specialized software. We invested in a start-up company, Interactive Response Technology (IRT), taking a 25% ownership and a sweetheart deal to own an enterprise license of the software. The first thing IRT did was secure the key domain for the entire industry, www.callcenter.com, a brilliant move. The visionary behind the new company was, Michell Pierce. His small team used the beauty of Microsoft’s brand new Visual Basic to create the flexibility needed for the call center industry. It had the ability to drag things around, so you could set them up in a pleasing way, change colors and fonts, enforce logic and apply tools for both exporting and reports, plus unlimited possibilities. In retrospect, if we went ahead with older technology we would have had a solid platform for growth. It took years to perfect the Microsoft systems. An article appeared in the newspaper featuring our new call center. It attracted David Ferrari, from Rockwell International. They were the makers of the first call center system. Call centers were created as an outcropping of the airline industry. After Rockwell built jet passenger planes, they needed a way to book reservations over the phone, so they invented the call center. David toured our

Stephen Shooster with multiplexer in a Miami truck tunnel. 1989

company, and we gave him a demo of our software. There was nothing on the market like it. He alerted Rockwell. Within a few weeks, they signed an exclusive agreement for us to build software for them. To sweeten the deal and ensure the software was built to match their platform they also gave us a fully loaded Rockwell Spectrum Switch worth about 700K, at no cost. We had great hopes for our project. IRT offered us the use of that switch for 3K a month. Perhaps, being naive we declined. Stephen feared Rockwell might one day want their equipment back and we may not be able to afford it. That was a bad decision. The new company was always short on capital. An investor was enticed to take over. He was willing to invest only if we agreed to toss away our existing shareholders’ agreement. We readily did as he asked. The money was badly needed. We should have stipulated a clause about taxes as you will soon find out. Every deal since we included that clause. IRT moved out of our office and started a competing call center only 4 miles away without any discussion with us. It was a slap in the face. Within a few months, they came back with the intention of buying us out. You can imagine our disgust. Even though we were still investors, we couldn’t trust them. They became a competitor with intimate knowledge of our clients and procedures, so we decided to remove their software and write our own. Three years later Rockwell bought the software division for 10 mils. It was an extraordinary sum. We were elated. As investors, we received a letter informing us of the sale with the added message that they expected to give out NO distributions. Our hearts sank. Without a distribution, we faced a huge tax liability and no way to pay it. Those were dark days. To mitigate the burden, they offered us pennies on the dollar for our shares. It was a squeeze play. We called a minority shareholder meeting to voice our dismay, and they relented, paying us enough to make the tax payment. After that, I told my kids, “Never sell your shares, one day they will be valuable.” Eighteen years later my prediction came true. IRT was sold, and we made a nice profit.

Mitchell Pierce, lead developer for IRT, and Herman Shooster.

SOFTWARE PATENT

In 1995, we landed a big call center project with Quintel, a public company with a stormy reputation. They provided psychic services over the phone using 900 numbers. When you dialed a 900 number, the caller pays a service fee on top of the long-distance charge. The project needed 50 agents. Contract in hand, we purchased computer telephony integration, commonly known as screen pop, just like the Answering Service. We wanted to use the magic of software to know who we were talking to before we answered the call, a fitting feature when dealing with psychics. Shortly after the purchase, we received a letter from a lawyer representing the patent owner, David Katz, suing us for using it. With that, we got a quick lesson in patents and indemnification. All we had to do was turn the trouble over to our vendor. Meanwhile, Steve was busy building our software, and his project was ready for a test drive when Quintel came on board. He took classes in Microsoft Visual Basic and on the fourth day he leveraged David Katz’s original patent by directing the result of a screen pop to a web page. It was a big accomplishment. I encouraged him to apply for a patent. He received US Patent 6188762, Feb. 13th, 2001, for ‘The Web Call Center.’

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Herman and Dorothy Shooster

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This feature became the defacto standard for the entire call center industry. Today, every company in the call center business worldwide uses a method similar to this for handling calls. We never tried to monetize it, but it did help in creating the confidence to propel our business forward. He called his software project Palettech. It stood for an artist’s palette combined with technology and it fueled our growth in many ways. The first thing we did was replace IRT. We installed our new software on every computer we purchased leaving us unbounded by hefty licensing fees. Now, we could start to scale. The continued development led us to be surrounded by highly skilled engineers. Not only did they build the code, but they also participated in client meetings adding depth to our offerings.

Steve hired his teacher, Shervin Shakabi, to help him build the software. Together, they built the core of the platform that we would use for the next twenty years. When we moved into production his teacher couldn’t juggle both jobs. That is how we met Dave Noderer, an RIT graduate in Electrical Engineering and an expert in Microsoft. He has been working with us ever since, about 20 years. Dave grew up in Oak Ridge, Tennesee, home of the nuclear research lab that created the atomic bomb. His dad was a Nuclear Physicist. Dave and Steve started to work together two days a week. We paid top dollar, but we were glad to have the expertise. In hiring him, we learned one of the key lessons of running a call center; Always work with the very best people.

Palettech Technologies Chief Architect, Stephen Shooster

GOING WITH THE FLOW

When new clients came on board, they always wanted to use the software we created, and invariably, it always needed something extra. Since Dave was a consultant, we were basically reselling his services. It was a solid business model. New clients paid for development and each step of the way we applied the new features to the entire application, so all clients got the benefit. Our library of features was growing, and as long as they built an administrative interface, we could sell the next client without the programming expense. That’s when a large company arrived, and we were hired to build a business development application. It was the first time that we required four full-time software developers. Today, we have seven and a handful of consultants.

Our first large call center customer was an insurance company from New York. They signed up for 40 agents for three months. It turned out to be eight. We expanded our facility on hope and a prayer and just like that (fingers snap) it was filled. An employee of their company moved in with us and we started taking calls. We learned a lot in serving them. the main thing we learned was the need for a payroll loan. We have to pay our people weekly and wait for payment from the customer 60-90 days later. It was a nervous feeling until it was paid. With the profits, we bought the building we Dave Noderer 327 occupied.

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Tom (Telecom craftsman), Pat O’Shea (Software), John Ham (Networks), Steve Hopkins (Support), Michael Brennan (Engineer) 2000

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THE FESTVAL FLEA MARKET

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1988, my brother Harry decided to retire in South Florida, with his son Danny, and their families. To Festival Flea Market keep their feet in the real estate business, they purchased a large retail space (400,000 sq. ft.) on Sample Road near the Florida Turnpike. It was destined to become an outlet mall. The idea was solid, and anchor tenants were already secured. Things were looking good. All they needed were some small tenants to fill in the blanks. They made the purchase and started preparations. Then the sky fell. Within the same demographic on the other side of town, a huge track of land was announced to become the Sawgrass Mills, a giant outlet mall. Reports said it would become one of the largest shopping malls in the nation. All of Harry’s anchor tenants canceled leaving him with a huge empty property and no revenues. I was in no position to bail them out, but I did the best I could. I had no idea if I would ever see the money again. Eventually I did. Some of the best ideas come out of desperation. Harry’s son Danny came up with what ended up being the highest and best use of the property. We were all skeptical at first, but it turned out to be ingenious. He created, The Festival Flea Market. Today, it has 700 booths in an indoor, air-conditioned space. We were offered the payphones and the phone business for each vendor’s booth and accepted. The payphone business disappeared after a few years when cellphones became popular. But the phone service was a viable business for many years thereafter. Each vendor needed a credit card machine and those needed physical phone lines. We registered a new company name, The Festival Telephone Service. At the same time, we also registered as a Competitive Local Exchange Carrier (CLEC). We were surprised to find out that this new designation also gave us a negotiation tool to use in purchasing all

of our telecom services. Additionally, being a phone carrier gave us a government designation giving us precedence during emergencies like hurricanes. By expanding our services, we had the very important added benefit of being able to afford a full-time telecom technician, Paul Slack, a very talented engineer. Today, he is Director of Telecom for our entire enterprise. December, 15th, 2000, two of our families hit the jackpot. My brother Harry made a $100 bet on the Florida lottery, using one of the machines his vendor installed, and won the big award. On the same day, Steve and Diane had their 4th child, Cassidy Carson. This had to be one of the luckiest days in Shooster history. KELLEY’S

I always considered Max Kelley, with awe. He owned three answering services, a paging company, and an Arabian horse ranch, plus all his kids were involved in the business. It was one Max Kelley of the oldest and largest in the USA. He practically started the industry. Max was a humble fellow. He started his business by running a single phone line to a small desk. He did this a few times leaving a few more phones on his desk. They were the 1st to buy Tascom, a computerized answering service system. In fact, one of the reasons we bought ours was the faith and trust we had in Max Kelley.

Janie Kelley working a switchboard

The Tascom user’s group met once a year. In 1990, it was in San Francisco. By this time we had established our software company (IRT) and wanted to do a demo at the user’s group to see if we could get some interest. Steve and Mike, brought Mitchel Pierce and David Ferrari with them. During that meeting, Janie Kelley, Max Kelley’s daughter, and her husband Jack invited all of them, to Seattle, Washington, to explore the possibilities. They all stayed at the Kelley’s ranch house surrounded by their giant Arabian horses. One thing about these huge animals is that they need lots of exercise. So, the boys mounted up and took the horses to a nearby mountain trail. The trail took them to the top of the overlook above where the birds flew. They were standing tall in the saddle. If this wasn’t enough excitement, before mounting up, they checked Jack’s arsenal and loaded up on all kinds of guns, rifles, and ammo. At the top of that ridge, they got off the horses and practiced target shooting.

Everyone got along great. Jack and Janie decided to invest in IRT. In 2006, IRT was sold and their investment matured, but IRT lost touch with them. Steve saw their name on a list of unknown investors and contacted them to retrieve their money. It was just in the nick of time. When he called, they were in trouble. The business had shrunk down to one location, and the bills were mounting. Janie was very sick, and Jack was spending most of his time taking care of her. Steve told them about the extra money coming to them and after hearing their condition offered to buy the company. They accepted. A deal was made, and Steve flew out there with his son, Jaime, to close the purchase. It was his first purchase of a company. I coached him as best I could, but still, some items were missed. Later, Jack and Janie, explained, “We would not have sold it to anyone else.” I was very appreciative of their thoughts and told them we would keep the company in Seattle, clean it up, and maintain the staff. We are still there, and it is doing fine.

The MET The Metropolitan Museum of Art (MET), NY is perhaps the premier art museum in the world on par with, The Louvre, Paris. To have the opportunity to work with them is a huge honor. We had to win this project. Their needs were complex and there wasn’t much time to ensure success. So, our tech team started to build the solution before winning the award. When it came down to the wire, we were the most prepared vendor. They choose us, and we sailed through the holiday season increasing their sales along the way. We received a letter of reference for a job well done. Became good friends with their team and maintained a very fine customer. As of this writing, they are still clients. Our advertising changed to reflect a love 331 of the arts.

Global Response has been answering calls for more than 30 years. Whether you send us overflow or completely outsource your call center to Global Response, our web-enabled team members are here 24/7. We will provide a customized service for your audience and work closely with you to fit your needs.

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Global Response can provide a dedicated group of specially trained representatives and a management team who will become a virtual extension of your business. Our team of experts will provide your customers with the knowledge, professionalism, quality responses, and enthusiasm you expect from your company representatives.

We’ll package your product and send it directly to your customers with your choice of UPS, USPS, Priority Mail, or FedEx. Speed accuracy and integrated systems make Global Response an inventory management solution you can count on. We integrate fulfillment into the call center software so that orders are accurately tracked from customer inquiry to doorstep.

954-595-7607

We could talk all day about things like our cutting-edge technology and our incredibly flexible reporting capabilities. But in the end, our results are really powered by people -- a smart group of managers and talented CRS’s who excel through their experience, enthusiasm, dedication, and exceptional skills. Think of us as your partner in profit and performance. In an industry plagued by high turnover, ours is refreshingly low. Wat’s our secret? We work hard to find the best employees, then offer them the training, stimulating work environment, and financial incentives they need to succeed. In turn, they reward us -- and our clients with exceptional quality, performance, and loyalty. We welcome you to visit us soon and meet your new call center partners. Global Response 333

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CSC Website, circa 1990

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Global Response 2007

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Global Response Web Site 2005

Global Response Web Site 2008

TRANSITIONS

Global Response Web Site 2011

Global Response Web Site 2016

The latest www.globalresponse.com

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GLOBAL RESPONSE

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We grew, but not as fast as I had hoped. Pondering our early results we reached a plateau. To break out we decided to change our company Global Response Logo name again. Communications Service Centers (CSC) was too generic. We chose a new name that could help us develop a brand, Global Response. As soon as we did everything seemed to click. We earned a reputation for excellence with some very sophisticated clients. Few answering services navigated the leap to become a call center. A call center might look the same, but it is an entirely different type of business. Some of our competitors scaled to 10,000+ cubicles. Many of those were consolidated by investment bankers and went public. We were a small fish in a big pond. One day we may rethink our decision to remain a family business. (2010) When I started we had ten employees. Today, we employ over a thousand. (2017 2,400, 2018 - 3,000, 2019 - 3,500) The business was almost 40 years old. We were challenged constantly. Each year was a new happening. The technology changed multiple times, and we had to contend with the advent of the internet, email, chat, social media, cell phones, text messaging, and more. Customers would come and go depending on their needs, some seasonal. It took continuous marketing and sales to keep the seats full. Our performance required heroic staffing measures. We needed staff during Hurricanes, or a project demanded it. It moved very fast. We hired over a thousand for Christmas. Each project required careful management. Weak links had to be strengthened and strong ones fortified. All of my children and their spouses all achieved responsible positions within the company. I would not be surprised to see our growth accelerated. We are poised to grow with a little luck and a lot of hard work. Max and Frank joined Global Response as

the client sophistication and legal requirements increased. Max took on the role of the head of operations, helping Wendy close contracts and provide the promised services. Each project required different needs. Hiring was done in bulk on some projects, entire rooms constantly full of trainees. Frank got involved in Human Resources with Liz and contract law for our sales. We kept him busy. He hired a staff of three attorneys to help with the load. We were busy. Michael became very capable of managing finances. He would negotiate with banks and put into place lines of credit. He also played critical roles in managing our properties, the answering service, and shipping company. Diane got involved deeper into auditing the billing and managing projects. Every month she would find something we missed, ensuring our clients could have faith in our bills. Stephen stayed with the technology, building a team of 35 engineers to handle all the details. He continued to innovate every year making sure we stayed current with the latest happenings. These were daunting projects that he attached to clients as quickly as possible. Rolling out innovation to our clients quickly hardened the software into state-of-the-art projects. I was pleased with our progress and pushed Mike to build more facilities. It was a balance, but a risk well considered. I was satisfied, at 89 I could look back and see all the blood, sweat, and tears paying off. We had happy clients, an exciting workplace, and a constant flow of new prospects.

Diane and Stephen Shooster, (with Carly Shooster), Frank Shooster, and Herman Shooster

INNOVATION Feb. 25, 2013, Herman Shooster, founder and Chairman of Global Response, is a lifelong entrepreneur and innovator. His enthusiasm for new ideas has turned the mom-and-pop answering service he bought in 1974 into today’s Global Response, one of the Top 50 contact centers in the world. At Global Response, Herman has been an innovator in the areas of technology, employment practices, and marketing. In technology, Global Response developed and patented software that enables web/ telephone integration, giving agents access to far more information and enabling them to provide better customer service. In employment practices, he pioneered the idea 25 years ago of employer-sponsored childcare benefits, earning a front-page article in the Wall Street Journal at that time. He found a way to hire hearing-impaired employees by structuring data entry and business process outsourcing (BPO) jobs that did not require being on the phone. In marketing, he created a unique niche for Global Response by developing dedicated sales and customer service groups for multichannel retailers, replicating their brands’ passion through a focus on absolute product knowledge and consumer relationships. That innovation has made Global Response the call center of choice for the world’s top brands, including National Geographic, Metropolitan Museum of Art, MoMA, Blue Cross Blue Shield of Michigan, JM Family, Crate&Barrel, Tory Burch, and Lacoste, among many more. His most all-encompassing accomplishment has been maintaining stability and growth at Global Response with an all-American workforce for nearly four decades. VALUE CREATION

Under Herman’s 30-plus years of leadership, Global Response has created value by steadily increasing employment in Broward County and other company locations and increasing profits nearly 40-fold. Perhaps his most significant ongoing achievement in value creation is creating a unique niche in outsourced call center services that has translated into steady growth in profit and jobs. At the age of 50, Herman Shooster was let go from his executive position at a frozen food company. With a family of six to support and few career options, Herman sold his house and purchased a small telephone answering service with less than 20 employees. That number has since swelled to over 1,500 positions during peak season today. What’s more, wages paid to those employees benefit their communities because, unlike other comparable call centers, Global Response has no offshore employees. Herman has been instrumental in establishing Global Response as the trusted contact center for the world’s leading brands. By delivering superior customer care for these brands and their enterprise, Global Response helps boost sales, profitability, and value for company owners and shareholders. He has helped increase the value Global Response delivers to clients by continuously adding new services that give clients a competitive advantage. Clients can now use Global Response as a one-stop-shop for a wide range of advanced services including social media customer care; business process outsourcing; interactive voice response; outbound prospecting; email, chat, and technical support; and much more. COMMUNITY CONTRIBUTION Herman and the entire Shooster family are longtime, generous supporters of charities, non-profits, and civic organizations in Broward County and elsewhere. Global Response has been honored by the state of Florida for hiring disabled workers.

Sun Sentinel Excalibre Awards Annoucement Feb. 25th, 2013

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Herman has been named Man of the Year by the Jewish Federation; and Herman has had a park in Broward County named after him, an honor not usually bestowed upon living honorees. Herman has always run Global Response as if the company were an extension of his family. He treats employees as family members and clients as friends. He promotes stability and long-term employment in his workforce by establishing clear career paths and rewarding 20-year employees with an all-expenses-paid trip anywhere in the world for two. He donates without fanfare to innumerable local individuals and groups. He has been a major supporter of GIVE, a charity that provides recycled computers to orphaned and abandoned kids in Haiti with the goal of giving them tools to compete in a twenty-first-century economy and escape poverty. Global Response is also working with GIVE on a program to make it possible for Haitian street kids to obtain an education through computer-assisted learning. Under his leadership, the company has also been a longtime supporter of the Anti-Defamation League, the oldest civil rights organization dedicated to preventing discrimination against Jews.

Herman Shooster with Sun Sentinel Excalibur Award 2012

Herman and Dorothy at Excaliber award 2012

Herman Shooster 2012

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YOUR BRAND / OUR PASSION!

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Stephen Shooster - Global Response is a sales and marketing machine. Wendy was pure magic capturing the hearts of our clients. Max supported her every move. We all did. Herman coached us all and spoke to clients as needed. We were a tight sales and marketing team, nimble and able to shift as the market demanded. It was one of the greatest joys in my life, and a big reason for our ability to scale. We treated sales and service like a show. We loved doing tours for clients. Those tours led to refining our pitch, and establishing a culture we were proud to share. It’s harder than you think to build a culture. It takes time and a lot of care. Each facility had a helium tank. I could have never predicted that we would need helium tanks. They were used to blow up balloons. We tried to honor everything about our staff, birthdays, holidays, and jobs well done. They needed a boost and a smile all the time. It made for an all-around better working environment. Halloween was a big deal for our staff. Everyone dressed in custume. One of the most important things we did was to establish an award for ten years of service. These people were the backbone of our team. Each of them was given either diamond earrings or a watch in a ceremony held in front of their peers. At first, Herman and Dorothy would give out the awards. As the team matured there were more awards than they could keep up with. Other family members took the lead. On a roll, always trying to build the quality of the staff we did something remarkable, 20 year anniversaries to visit a place in the world, with their spouse or friend. We sponsored trips to Australia, Ireland, Isreal, Hawaii, and more. It’s a big deal to have a staff member recognized for 20 years of work. Refining our marketing and the pitch is a full-time job. It required a team of staff members and consultants. We did all kinds of things to attract clients and keep them. Once we purchased a huge tire and wrote, ‘Come Kick Our Tires,’ for automotive clients. We made stage sets that we displayed in the lobby,

trained a team of staff members to sing songs, wear branded clothing, and make a splash for clients when they initially walked in the door. Sales meetings included cultural foods and special deserts to complete the experience. Clients would often come as a team. They usually consisted of the senior marketing and customer service teams experts of a company. Those folks were given a gift, including a DVD of the show we put on for them. These DVDs must have got into the hands of their bosses and friends. Many times when one of them left their company and went to a new company that would come back to Global Response. Once we even hired a local school band to march down our little private street playing their instruments in full regalia for a client visit. Talk about over the top, that was one of the best!

High School Marching Band at Global Response Dorothy Shooster in white

Global Response Brandy Bunch

Wendy Leuchter-Shooster with the welcome team

Diane and Herman with the Welcome Team

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GLOBAL RESPONSE NORTH

Herman Shooster 2010, Jim Cederna, a business coach, came to us with a simple vision; bring jobs back to his hometown. With a popuJim Cederna lation of 1,200, it seemed unfeasible. Jim’s hometowm is Iron River. Located in the ‘Rust Belt,’ or the Upper Penisula of Michigan, above Wisconsin. It is a town the was built around mining. The mines were shut down. The cheap ore was gone. As a young man, Jim, watched the miners coming and going to work, a sad sight, he will never forget. He told me, the most important thing you can do for your friends, family, communities, and companies is to help them grow. I sincerely believe him. Undaunted, Jim heard about call centers serving in India and wondered why we can’t do the same in his backyard. Altruistic to a fault, all Jim wanted was jobs for his community, nothing for himself. We were intrigued. His contacts directed him to Global Response. He met Wendy at a tradeshow. She directed him to me. In our first discussion, we talked about the basics; high-speed internet, infrastructure, people, and most importantly a customer. He said they have plenty of empty buildings and that the school system uses high-speed internet. So, we both knew it was possible. But, that still left a big gap. We had a conference call with the local Economic Development Council (EDC) and met some sharp people. Jim Gibula, the local banker said, ‘I think the state owes us one.’ They applied for a feasibility grant and enticed us to visit. They got the grant and we took the bait. I thought it would be refreshing to have the government on our side. My son, Steve, was not too excited about 342

the project. His hands were already full at home. When he heard we can visit together, just me and him, he agreed. He also heard we could try our hand at some of the best trout fishing in the world. We flew using a connecting flight into Eagle River, Wisconsin, met a private pilot they hired and he flew us to Iron River. The landing strip, fondly called Stambough International, is a 2,000-foot gravel runway on the top of a hill. The unmanned airport has no towers. You land just over the edge of a cliff. When you take off the plane goes down before it goes up. It’s was thrilling. It’s easy to fall in love with Iron River. We met the leaders of the community, rode AVT’s with Jim, and Steve got to go fishing. Before we left, we agreed to have weekly phone calls. The calls progressed. Ron Basso, a lobbyist, was looking for State call center contracts. Steve flew back to do the feasibility study. He picked out a building, met lots of local people, and got comfortable with the idea. The family started a new company, Global Response North. Jim called every 800 number he could find asking where the call center was located. He stumbled upon Michigan State Park Reservations and found that the calls were being answered in Maryland. Bingo! We were all flabbergasted. Why would the State of Michigan, with the second-largest park system in the United States, hungry for jobs, outsource them to Maryland? Our timing was perfect. The parks contract was up for bids. Ron got the message all the way to Governor Granholm. She said those jobs are not allowed to leave the state. The contract was for both software and call center services. Steve said we couldn’t do the software but we could do the services. We asked the State if we could bid on only the call center. They said no. However, they handed a list of call centers to the bidders and told them to use one that is located in Michigan. Global Response North was on the top of the list. Global Response North was chosen by the winning bidder and things were about to get exciting. Before winning the contract we also asked for an infrastructure grant. It was approved. However, it wasn’t nearly big enough for the

Global Response North, Marquette Michigan, Call Center Interior 2010

contract. It took some wrangling, but we ended up getting the full measure. The project was green-lighted. We received a Community Block Grant (650K). It required us to put up 2x the amount of the grant (1.2 mil). The community had to put up 10%. We agreed to create 100 cubicles and load our software on each station (an internal value of 10K per station or 1 mil). Steve stayed a few months to set it up. The biggest problem turned out to be staffing. The contract was for 90 jobs, but they were only needed for two hours in the morning. If we hired people 8 hours a day the whole thing would have been a loss. Max and Liz, solved the puzzle with a little extra payment for a short shift. That was over ten years ago. During that time Global Response North won awards providing customer service excellence, and expanded our client base. We opened a second site in Marquette, Michigan, at K.I. Sawyer Airport. It’s our largest facility. (60,000 sq ft.) It could easily support our 400 agents. K.I.Sawyer was the location for the strategic airforce, America’s B-52 bomber fleet. It was used during the cold war until it was decommissioned. They converted the old WW2 commissary into a large call center with a government grant. Sitting just outside our parking lot is a full-sized B-52 bomber. Jim Cederna - “Herman Shooster is one of the most astute and personable business owners that I have ever known. He has a tremendous amount of wisdom and experience which he is willing to share with others. He is an outstanding leader always interested in learning and pursuing new ideas.”

Herman Shooster on ATV with Stephen Shooster 2006

Stephen with Michigan Governor Granholm Iron River, Michigan 2006

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A REMARKABLE STORY

Stephen Shooster - I was contacted by Koren McKenzie on Facebook after my dad passed away. She said she used to work for Ding-a-Ling Answering Service in the late 1980s, while we still had switchboards. She told me my dad was a great leader and role model for her. She recalled how Herman would speak of her as one of his best people. During her time at Ding-a-Ling, she got pregnant. My sister Wendy was pregnant, too. Herman and Wendy visited her at the hospital. They wanted to make sure she knew they cared about her, and that everything was going to be okay, and that she shouldn’t worry about work. They assured her that her job would be there when she was ready to return. The timing of these soothing words could not have been more perfect. She had been crying through the night, petrified not knowing whether her baby girl was going to die. Koren 19 at the time said, their mere presence made her feel more peaceful and secure. Her daughter was due to be born on Nov. 18th, 1988. Instead, she was born three months premature on Aug. 15th, 1988. She weighed 2 lbs., 2 oz. Her lungs were underdeveloped, and her life hung by a thread. The doctors recommended an experimental treatment. Plantation General Hospital was conducting an experiment with a surfactant that would protect the baby Ashley’s lungs. It was a scary decision. She acquiesced. The most common problem for a premature baby is respiratory distress syndrome (RDS), also known as hyaline membrane disease (HMD). A baby develops RDS when its lungs do not produce sufficient amounts of surfactant to keep the tiny air sacs in the lung open. She survived! Koren got a medical bill. It was nearly 2 million dollars. Remarkably, the insurance provided by Ding-a-Ling paid the entire bill. Koren returned to work after nearly one year. Herman was gracious to allow her to select a 344

Koren McKensie with baby Ashley. 1988

Koren McKensie with Ashley. 1994 - 1997.

work schedule that gave her the flexibility to take care of her baby and attend college fulltime. She said this experience taught her early on that great leaders can still make money, show compassion, and take care of their people. 1997, Koren McKenzie eventually received her law and MBA degrees simultaneously. Today, work as a commerical real estate lawyer for the federal government. Koren McKensie, “Thank God your company had great health insurance!”

The Global Response Welcoming Committee

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Wendy and Max

ALWAYS WITH ME

Wendy in cubical with Herman looking on

Wendy and Max

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Dad, it has been 7 years today that you are not here. And yes, just like you said; how there wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t miss your own father. Well, that is exactly how I feel 7 years later about missing you. Every day I think of you. Sometimes with tears. But mostly with joy in my heart for all the wonderful things you have taught me. Dad, six months after you passed away I remember going to see Dr. Munuswamy. I told him my heart truly hurt and ached with pain. I was so concerned but he told me “Wendy, what you are feeling is a broken heart.” Time went on and I had to be strong for my own family. I realized you had given me a gift when we said our goodbyes, which I was lucky enough to do. You told me “don’t ever feel sorry for me, I lived a good Life”. Those words have helped me through this plight of missing you so much. You are my role model for everything I do in life.

Dad, you passed on advice and wisdom to me, which rings ever truer as the years go by. When faced with choosing whether or not to make difficult and painful decisions, you said “Face it.” On being optimistic in the face of negative fortunes and situations, you said “This too shall pass.” When I was worried about whether I measured up in business, you said “Be Yourself.” If we lost out on winning a sale, you said with a smile “Next.” When I asked how to run my part of the business without you, You said, “Concentrate on the Relationships.” If there was a question about how to handle a problem with the Kids, you said “Just love them.” Easy words to say, but hard to follow. Your courage, optimism, and well-meaning kindness is the common thread that runs through all these sayings. I love you with all my heart!

WAR LETTERS

U.S. Army Examiner

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V-Mail - 1944, Apr 29 - How to address a letter

1944, Apr 29 - How to address a letter Dear Mother and Dad, Mother - I guess your planting grass again this spring, huh. Dad - Don’t work too hard, and watch that Arthritis. Ida - Still raising hell at the supper table? 348

Sil - Iz -

Saw Milton in March — He’s looking swell The vine has struck a fiber; which about if clings my being — let the Sufi Flout. (And it has)[fromn The Rubai yat of Omar Khayyam] Harry - Monkey — register — this is gonna run into money — Remember ?

1944, Apr 29 - How to address a letter note - quote refers to The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

Stateside Letters

June 23rd, 1943

give out the information, he told me I got a pretty good mark in my I.Q. - well above the average. They don’t tell you into what branch of the army you will be sent, but I think I saw the fellow put down Medical Corps. I hope so. If I am here until Saturday, I may be able to get a weekend pass to come home. Yours, Herman P.S. Don’t write yet.

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Herman Shooster during basic training. 1943

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Herman posing for the camera during Basic Training. 1943

Stateside Letters

June 23rd, 1943 Dear Iz and Silvia, So far, I like the army very much the food is O.K., and the men are swell. I am all through my processing, and I’m ready to be shipped, when or where I don’t know. After I took the general classification test, I was interviewed. I got to talking with the interviewer and, although he isn’t supposed to give out the information, he told me I got a pretty good mark in my I.Q. - well above the average. They don’t tell you into what branch of the army you will be sent, but I think I saw the fellow put down Medical Corps. I hope so. If I am here until Saturday, I may be able to get a weekend pass to come home. Yours, Herman P.S. Don’t write yet.

June 23rd, 1943

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June 26th, 1943, 1 PM Hyah Jerk, You may as well forget that homesick business and get your mind on the business at hand. You’re on your own now and you’ll be that way now for the rest of your days because the army sure as hell will make a man of you. Keep writing as often as you do. Mother and Pop get a great kick out of your letters. Funny, Pop seems a lot more friendly toward the soldiers that stop in the station. He’s eager to gab with them as long as they’ll let him. He really thinks he did a great job on you. Don’t let him down. I don’t know how good a score of 117 is on the exam you took, but apparently they’ve got you lined up for something other than infantry since they’re holding you over. Too bad you can’t make it home this weekend. We received your report card from Temple. You graded B in “War Psychology.” Mush stopped in yesterday. He’s having a time speaking Spanish with his three sisters. Things are ok on the stand. Yesterday $93.00 We have Mike Marker working again, plus Jackie Harris and Bill Gill - Jack’s brother. Bill is catching on very well. Jack is in the hospital with his hernia - or should I say without it now. We had a blackout the other nite. Pop was in the movies and I was home dressing 9.30 pm. I had to dash up to turn off the lites in both stations. Had a hectic time. You must have had it very pleasant working that 24-hour shift the other day. I wouldn’t stand for it if I were you. Pop drove Mother to Sylvia’s the other nite with ice cream and cake to find nobody home. It later developed they had been out for a walk. It has been stifling here this week. Not a lot of air to breathe. Mother called Tante - she said (that was last week) that she hadn’t heard from you. I’m sure that you’ve taken care of that by now. Betty Jean, Helen in the stand and Moishe all have received your letters.

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I must return to business - more later. Harry

June 26th, 1943

Phone Bill with excessive charge. Phone number 3316

Harry’s $ Signature

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Wednesday, July 14, 1943 Dear Iz and Silvia, As you probably know, I am in the Medical Corps and am receiving my basic at Camp Grant in northern Illinois. The camp is located about midway between Lake Michigan and the Mississippi, about fifteen miles from Wisconsin. Rockford, a city of about 142,000, is located about two miles from our Camp. There are over 50,000 men here (in Grant) and the place is larger than Chester in area. That will give you an idea of the immensity of the place. As of yet, I am not certain what my place will be in the M.C.*, but I can say this. After about thirteen or fourteen weeks of training, most of the men are sent to ports of embarkation. And what a training we’re getting!! I’ve now been here three days, and I’ve already seen * Medical Corps

Wednesday, July 14, 1943 page1

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two baseball games between our team and the Chicago White Sox and Detroit Tigers. Don’t get the wrong idea, though. All is not milk and honey. Sometimes you get so damned homesick it’s a crime. That’s why I want you to write me often. I know you work, Iz, but I’m sure you can find a few minutes now and then to write. If you haven’t anything to say, just sign your name and mail it. You can’t know how much a letter means. Don’t get the wrong idea, though. I’m not crying the blues. Sure the work is had, but it isn’t too hard. So far, I like the army, and I know it will do me a world of good. Love Herman P.S. Don’t forget to visit mother often and do me a favor and get her out of the house once in a while.

Wednesday, July 14, 1943 page 2

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Letter - page 1 - Thursday, July 15, 1943 10:10 AM

Envelope

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Letter - page 2 - Thursday, July 15, 1943 10:10 AM

Dear Herm, We certainly were surprised to learn you had been shipped to Illinois, of course we had been expecting you to go, but those things still hold surprise for me. I’m glad to see that you are on the road to the realization of your plans in having made the Medical Corps even though for the present your duties may be menial. Remember to take it like a good fellow and keep playing. Keep me informed of your progress in every fact and detail pertaining to your care in regard

to the Medical course of the A.S.T.P. I may be able to dig up some information that might escape your attention. Milton Zimbler has been shipped to Buckley Field, Denver, Colorado. He unfortunately just missed out on A.S.T.P.* as the quota for his contingent was filled shortly before his name was revealed; however he intends to re-apply shortly. Sylvia and I visited New York last Thursday I returned Sunday evening in time for work while she remained. I expect her home today. In the meantime I’ve been staying home. Last Wednesday night we attended the *A.S.T.P. = Army Specialized Training Program

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Letter - page 3 - Thursday, July 15, 1943 10:10 AM

surprise wedding of Sgt. Herman Sachs to Corporal Frances Wallach at the home of Herman Sachs. They were both in uniform for the ceremony. They honeymooned in N.Y. and returned last evening. I expect to entertain them and the gang to-night. Morris Lesnick is home at having obtained a discharge from the army. He visited the house last night. Co-incidentally he just left Buckley Field, Denver, only last week. Expecting to here from you soon.

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Always Yours, Big Brother Izzy

July 15th, 1943 Thursday, 10 am To: Pvt. Herman Shooster 637 Clr Co Sep APO 9641 % Postmaster, San Francisco, California April 20, 1944 From: Mr. and Mrs. Harry Shooster c/o Mr I. Shooster 22 Melrose Ave, Apt 9 Chester, Pa. USA Dear Herm, I’m busy as hell. Just a few lines to say hello to you out there in the wilds of Central America. Do the women bite? Pop discovered that Witlins boy from Commission Row was at Camp Grant. He was talking to him. Says there is a Miss Lowe, working there as a telephone or switchboard operator. Look her up. Her old man used to be in the fish business in Chester (Preston Lowe) was his name. He got in trouble dating 12 yr. old kids. Maybe his daughter can be of some assistance to you.

1943, Jul 15, Thursday 10 AM

Everything is swell here at home. Harry P.S. Some pictures eh bub? We have one tacked up in the office. P.S.S. Write and thank Jim for the pictures.

Harry Shooster Signature

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Tues, July 20, 1943 To: Pvt. Herman Shooster 637 Clr Co Sep APO 9641 % Postmaster, San Francisco, California April 20, 1944 From: Mr. and Mrs. Harry Shooster c/o Mr I. Shooster 22 Melrose Ave, Apt 9 Chester, Pa USA Dear Herm: How you doin!? - Will you please tell us who won that ball game. Jimmy Dykes or Camp Grant? Regarding your request to take pictures of all the local surroundings please be advised that I have neither the time nor the camera in addition to the fact that Eddie has left for the Army and I am now breaking in a new boy. We had a party last week at Sylvia’s for Herm and Frances; a going back to the Army party. Outside of that it’s been all work. Things have picked up in the restaurant. Helen did $43.00 one day last week. We did

1943, Jul, 20th Tuesday Harry

$725 last week. [$11,451 in 2021] Fairly good. Ida’s been swimming over at the Ohev Shalom pool several times. Pop sure bores the hell out of people talking about you. He thinks you’re General Eisenhower. Are you doing a lot of drilling? Sergeant is spelled sergeant and not sargent. Please note. Let me know if you need anything. 360

Harry

P.S. Fuck you sailor (censored)

Signature of Harry ‘Hairy’ Shooster

FUCK MUSSOLINI July 29th, 1943 Dear Herm: Glad to hear that you had leave. Have a good time? Your nemesis Marty goes into the Army in a couple of days. So does Bill Macklem. Edith is supposed to be here today for a week’s visit. Write to her at our home. I guess she will be using your bed. How are the Jew babes in Rockford? It’s hot as hell here and busy. Got a letter from Ralph Worrell today. He will be home on furlough shortly (50th armed infantry - located in California) A letter from Moose today. Same old bullshit. I heard the Alka Seltzer show Sat. nite. Heard you cheering at the end of the program.

Till later,

Harry FUCK MUSSOLINI

1943, Jul, 29th Harry

1943, Jul, 29th envelope

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July 28, 1943 Dear Iz and Silvia, This is hell! I’m not being dramatic either. I don’t know exactly how many of our men alone are in the hospital already, but there are quite a few. We’re allowed into town every night, but we’re so damn tired by evening that most of us don’t even bother asking for passes. Did you ever sleep in a tent with thousands of ants? Did you ever standstill for what seemed like hour feeling the sweat trickle over your face and in your eyes ‘till you couldn’t see anymore? Did you ever march until you couldn’t stand up anymore? We have ambulances following us on all our marches. That’s, they follow us as far as automobiles can go. They can’t go through forests, over foot wide log bridges with a driedup river beneath. Have you ever walked through a forest with 300 other men without being able to see more than 5 or 6 at one time? Did your face even get red and stingy from leaves and branches banging against it? Sweating, sweating, sweating - your field pack gaining ten pounds every ten feet. Have you ever crawled over a field with your face in the dirt and flat as a pancake. It’s impossible to crawl that way, but we have to do it. That’s only a little bit, Iz, there’s a lot more that could be said. This army is no picnic. Yesterday we got back to our tents

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almost crawling on our hands and knees, that is, those of us that came in. It started to rain, but we didn’t even go inside. We just laid there - too tired to even talk, let alone move. You know, when I was in civilian life I looked at soldiers with different eyes. I figured they were just so much glory wrapped up in a little khaki. Now, whenever I see one, I have the utmost respect for him. He has worked harder than anybody in civilian life could possibly work. He’s gone through mass murder. (Sometimes it’s murder in the literal sense of the word.) Don’t get me wrong. I’m not asking for any sympathy. I just have a job to do, and I figure that if the others could do it, I can do it. Only, sometimes, I wonder how they did it. I might mention another thing. If ever you are asked for a donation for the U.S.O. give them all you can spare. I don’t know what I would do without it. It’s a Godsend. The work they are doing is invaluable. Can you imagine a soldier with a little liberty in a strange town? He’s always at home at the U.S.O. and I wish I could express in words how much I appreciate it. Herman P.S. Please don’t forget to write me often.

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Overseas Letters

July 31st, 1943 Monday Evening 7:30 pm New Guinea Iz and Sil, Quite some time since I’ve written, but you know how these things are. Things are very quiet where I am, and I am very well. Staying healthy in these islands is rather difficult, but the army is doing a pretty good job of keeping un that way. The food we get, with a few exceptions, is as good as anyone can get in the states. In fact, I think we eat better than most people at home. We don’t get any chicken, but steak dinners are very frequent. I guess you know from my letters home that we’re getting beer this month and every month from now on. You know somebody’s on the ball when each soldier out here can get twenty-four bottles each month. Sometimes I feel as if I’d like to get good and drunk and stay that way until this dirty mess is over. About a week ago, Jack Benny and his troupe were in the area, but unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to see him. I suppose he’s doing a pretty good job for moral, but, personally, I think anybody who comes out to this rotten spot who doesn’t have to is crazy. If the folks at home are so interested in keeping up their men’s morale, that ought to (continued)

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try sending us some decent motion pictures. It’s bad enough to sit through the rain on a coconut log to see a lousy show, but they’re only lowering morale with the kind of trash they send us. Yeah, I know we’re not supposed to do our groping to those at home, but who the hell are we supposed to grip to — Major so-and-so and Colonel what’s his name? We’re only privates. Maybe you ought to write a letter to McArthur or Roosevelt or Anthony Eden or somebody. Maybe Mayor La Guardia could do something about the situation. Oh, well, the war will be over in five or ten years, and then we can see burlesque at the ‘troc.’ How’s everything in the old town these days? What I wouldn’t give to be standing on the corner of Seventh and Edgemont waiting for a bus home. That’ll be a great day. How’s my old flame doing? Funny, I thought I’d forget her when I went away. One evening with her these days would be worth an awful lot. Perhaps it’s better for me here. I know damn well, it’s better for me over here!! And so the time has come to say goodnight. I’ll be thinking of you often. Till later, Herm

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August 3rd, 1943

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August 31st, 1943 Dear Iz, I have been confined to the hospital for the past week with second-degree burns of my right hand and leg. It’s not at all serious, but I’m hospitalized as a security against infection. I’ll most likely be on duty status within the next few days. No need to mention this to the folks, for it would only cause them undue worry and concern. Long daylight hours in the hospital are difficult to fill One cannot read all of the time away! I’ve spent much of my time thinking, and naturally, those thoughts concerned my future after the war. My ambition for medicine as my career has wained — and for good reason. I was eighteen when inducted with a year of college to my credit. With such a good start, medicine seemed very inviting. But things have changed. I cannot possibly return to my studies before ‘fortysix, and then I shall have to enter college as a freshman, for one year with a lapse of three is easily forgotten. I would be thirty-three August 31st, 1943

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or four before graduating from medical school. However, I do hope to go back to school. If nothing else, I want a good education. Yes, Iz, I realize that success depends upon specialization, but in what should I specialize. I’m certainly a poor example of a Shooster. I don’t know what I’m best suited for, nor have I the slightest idea of what course I should follow. I thought of teaching, but I’m much to impatient for that type of work. I’m not a businessman. Mathematical lines are strictly prohibited. I have a few very valuable assets. I get along very well with people, and I seem to be very well-liked by those I know. I have always done well in social sciences. For my age, I think I am fairly well-read, and I think I have developed an appreciation of people — their capabilities, their frailties, their wants, and desires. I think these things I’ve mentioned are important and could be put to some use. Do you think, knowing me as well as you do, these qualities might point to some vocation or profession? Personnel work, perhaps? I hope you’ll answer my letter soon, Iz, and I hope your consideration of this topic will be its content. Your kid brother, who needs a hell of a lot of advice. Herman 370

August 31st, 1943

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Sept. 5th, 1943

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Sept 5, 1944 Sunday Evening Dear Iz and Silvia, I was certainly glad to hear that the picture arrived in good condition. If I’m lucky, I think I’ll be able to make a personal appearance in about six or seven weeks. This has certainly been a grand day. I got up this morning at about ten, washed a few pieces, sat down under a tree with a swell cigarette, and my Reader’s digest. After reading for about an hour, I got dresses, had chow, and then went into town with Johnny. We took in a movie, a hamburger and a dance or two at the U.S.O. *

*United Service Organization

Sept. 5th, 1943

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from where I am now writing. It’s swells to take it easy once a week. About school, I won’t continue my pre-med in the army under A.S.T.P.* for an acceptance to some medical school is required. This, of course, I do not have, so the army, I think, wants to make an engineer out of me. I know you will think I am foolish, Iz, but if I am offered that chance, I do not think I shall accept. I have no desire whatsoever to study engineering, and I know I shall only hamper my record. There’s no use in kidding myself into believing that I am even a half-decent mathematician. However, as it stands, I passed my first interview, and the colonel put me down as willing to accept the study of some engineering field. When my basic is up, they’ll probably ship me to some star unit where further interviews and tests are conducted, but as I said before if I can’t get medicine, I don’t want anything. I’d rather become a medical or surgical technician and get a little acquainted with the field I am interested in. Enough of that. In about three and a half weeks my basic will be over. Just think, I’ll be able to breathe without the numbers. Write me soon, and write me often. Letters mean an awful lot to us. Herman

Sept. 5th, 1943

* Army Specialized Training Program

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Frank Shooster and Sons Incorporated Ninth Street, Flower to Edward Chester, PA September 9, 1943 Dear Herm, How’s everything? Doing well, I hope. What was the reaction of the Italian prisoners to the Italian surrender? I understand that you are now a capitalist. I hope you have sense enough to refrain from being a soft touch. Pop has returned from his vacation. Ida and I spent Labor Day weekend in New York. Believe it or not I closed the station 6 o’clock Sat evening and didn’t open until the following Tuesday. We stayed at the Hotel Lincoln. I had to wait in line three quarters of an hour to register. All the hotels were sold out. We saw, “DuBarry Was a Lady” at the Capitol Theatre - Horace Heidt in person — swell band. We had dinner at a Jewish restaurant on the east side and who do you think we bumped into — Zero Mostel, one of the comedy stars of the picture, which we had seen only several hours previously.

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Letter from Harry Shooster, page1, 1943, Sept, 9th

1943, Sept, 9th envelope

Letter from Harry Shooster, page2, 1943, Sept, 9th

We spent Monday at Garden State racetrack in Camden. Terribly large crowd. Miserable day — no winners. Congratulations on your advancement. So you’re now a Court Martial eh? Please learn to spell the few simple words that are a part of Army life and I’m sure you’ll get along better. BIVOUAC — SERGEANT — LIEUTENANT — SOLDIER — GENERAL — BRIG — SKIN — LIQUOR — FUCK — ADVANCE — RETREAT — SENSE (not sence) — WHORE (not hoar) Moise (Morris Schulman) brought you’re record over. [exciting to know Herman made a record of his music] We played it many times on our broken down Victrola. Give my love to Dolores, Say hello to Johny, Harry

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Letter from Izzy, page 1, 1943, Sep, 11

September 11, 1943 Dear Herman Sylvia and I are now in New York, where I am spending a few days prior to my return to Ford’s. Pop returned from Atlantic City very much rested and now looks like a new man. I believe I took pretty good care of the stand in his absence. The primary difficulty there today is the lack of adequate help. However, we managed quite well. In regard to the opportunity offered you to take A.S.T.P.* in Engineering, 378

* Army Special Training Program

Letter from Izzy, page 2, 1943, Sep, 11

I heartily urge you to accept. I recognize your reluctance to forgo your first love, ‘Medicine’ but since this field is closed to you anyhow, I regard any opportunity for advanced training such as Engineering as an opportunity too good to pass up. You plead deficiency of ability in absorbing Math, I do not agree. I believe in your capabilities and in your ability to master any task to which you apply yourself. You need not give up your ambitions for Medicine but decide rather to postpone them as your peacetime objective.

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Letter from Izzy, page 3, 1943, Sep, 11

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In the meantime, advanced learning in any field can never bring you harm and may, remote as it sounds, be of great value in your ambitions as a doctor of medicine. I believe that now that the organized resistance of Italy has been broken the end is more clearly in sight for an early cessation of hostilities. In view of this, it becomes desirable to pay some attention to post-war plans, your own post-war plans. I understand that in the midst of training for war it is difficult to see beyond it, but remember it will end, and soon, I hope. When it does the world is going to be a quite different place. The people will be different, ideas will be different, things will be different. In fact, when that happy day on which you are mustered out arrives and you come back to 3rd street the houses and stores may look the same

as you left them, but in spite of that, it will look a lot different to you. This is because in youth every day, hour and minute is highly impressionable and time spent away from a familiar environment alters rapidly preconceived conceptions of that environment. It is then that you will discover that your true home is your own heart and body and the healthier, the stronger, the better prepared that mind and body the happier will be that true home. Do not pass up golden opportunities. Prepare yourself. Make yourself free and strong by mastering advanced learning be it engineering or medicine. Do not assert that you will have nothing but medicine. This is childish, we cannot have everything we want, rather be thankful that there is a next best thing.

Your Envious brother, Iz

Letter from Izzy, page 5, 1943, Sep, 11

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Sunday Afternoon Sept. 12, 1943 Dear Iz and Silvia, Lousy out today, but it’s still Sunday so who gives a damn. The other day the straw we now use as mattresses arrived. It isn’t bad enough that they work us like horses - now we sleep like them. Did you here the record I sent Mush yet? It certainly is a monstrosity. The next week, I hope, I’m going to see if I can make one for mother. Next weeks General Willis is leaving Camp Grant and the whole camp is going to parade for him. We had a practice yesterday afternoon and I can safely say that I’ve never seen anything quite so spectacular the 6th, 7th and 8th regiments which, of course, together form a division was on the drill field at the same time marching in company formation. You’ve never seen anything until you’ve seen an entire division of uniforms marching at one time. And although marching isn’t exactly the best way to spend an afternoon this parade did wonders for moral. really a thrilling sight. About all for now, so I’ll say so long for me and all the German Prisoners. Herman P.S. they’re all over the place. P.S.S Went to our outfits party last night - took a W.A.C.* Go(w)d!!!

* Womans Army Corps

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Netherlands East Indies December 14th, 1943 Dear Iz and Sil, I’m glad you are taking so much time deciding what business you’re going to take a shot at. It will turn our better that way, I’m sure. If you could open a beer garden over here, you’d make millions. I was considering the idea myself, but I don’t think headquarters would approve. This is Thursday night, and what a swell night to be dancing. There is probably a ‘Moose’ dance in Salinas tonight, and I guess Jerry will be there. What a gal she was. She’s what you might call “The girl I’d like most to be out with if she were drunk.” How’s everything in Chester these days? You still haven’t written me about your draft classification. Don’t think I’m being subversive or anything, but if your number comes up, I hope you break a leg. Service ribbons may look nice, but, take it from me, the people at home will never know what they represent. V-day plus about eight months will certainly be wonderful. That’s about it for now. I’ll write again soon, Herm

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Dec. 14th, 1943

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January 7th, 1944

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To: Mr. and Mrs. I. Shooster 22nd and Melrose Avenue. Ridley Hall Apt. Apt #7 Chester, Pa. Pvt. Herman Shooster 637th Clr. Co. Sea. Plt APO 70 c/o P.M. San Francisco January 7th, at Sea Dear Iz and Sil,

January 7th, 1944

This letter will be mailed to you from the Philippines. As I write this, I have already seen parts of it. I have written the folks merely stating that my A.P.O. has been changed (it is now APO 70). I have not and do not intend to inform then as to my whereabouts, but, rather, I intend to have them continue to assume that I am still in the Netherlands East Indies. I shall tell them after things have quieted down, and there is no longer any imminent danger. I’ll say so long now. Wish us luck. If my letters are fewer, it is only because circumstances will not allow me time to write more often. Love Herman

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January 27th 1944 Saturday, Philippines Dear Iz and Sil, Wow! What news we’re hearing these days! It’s beginning to look as if the war will end someday. The day is almost over now, and we’re getting ready to put our patients to bed and settle down to a peaceful night of artillery blasts and jitters. “Now and then a shot is heard followed by a great large t..... “ You know, there aren’t many people who can sweat on chilly nights. I guess that’s enough comedy. To tell the truth, I’m a hell of a lucky guy. I’m in no danger at all compared to the guys up ahead. You sure have to give it to the infantryman. I’m not ashamed to say that I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. I haven’t received any mail in a month, and I’m getting quite anxious to know what’s going on at home. At any rate, I hope that you are all well. That will be all for now. Take it easy. Herm January 27th, 1944

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Feb. 1944 Monday Evening 6:15 on my bunk in the barracks. Dear Iz and Silvia, I hope you can understand how happy I am to learn that everything is well. I guess we were all scared for a while. Thanks a hell of a lot for the cake. Naturally, since I was only your best man, I forgot about your anniversary. If I should ever get married (I say if, for my faith in the opposite sex has been shattered in the past year or so.) I hope I can achieve half the success that you have had. It is difficult to believe, as you so innocently stated, Silvia, that Iz could ever have been domesticated. I shall never forget the fun I had on your wedding day. Since I was the best man, it was my duty to act as guardian of the ring. Was it my fault that the chambermaid was so “cute”? When it was time for the ceremony to begin, I had a hell of a time trying to find her to get the ring. You see, I sort of let her wear it — for a slight remuneration. I’m still not sure whether it was Trochee or Max Factor — but, anyhow, it was red — and it wasn’t bad either. Oh, well, life is full of little success stories. Training the past week or so has been confined to a large number of the army’s “training films.” The purpose of these films, of course, is to impress upon the soldier the best way to stay alive. However, in our case, I’ve an idea they are being used to stimulate morale

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with the educational element secondary. You’d be surprised if you understood how much stress the army is continually placing on the maintenance of good morale. My leisure is still present in the same old way with a minimum of whiskey and women and a maximum of relaxation and reading. And speaking of reading, I came across a very interesting book in the U.S.O.’s library yesterday. It’s a record of a number of experiments conducted by Duke University with “Extra Sensory Perception” — New Frontiers of the Mind. Well, to sum it up, the phrase “New Frontiers” to my way of thinking is a bit bold. However, some rather startling hypothesis was advanced in regards to telepathy and a few related subjects. To dare to think of such things was like seeing one of Walt Disney’s dream sequences. — It all seemed so remote, so difficult to comprehend and, yet, so challenging that I could not escape thinking of it. I had a little information in regard to mental telepathy before finding the book, so perhaps I was prepared for the shock. Your brother, whom you think unduly excited — and who probably is Herman

Feb. 1944

P.S. Iz, If I should ever go overseas, I want you to impress the family to the use of Vmail. I am sure that you are familiar with its advantages.

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Feb. 6th 1944

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February 3rd, 1944 Luzon, Philipines Dear Iz and Sil, The money which you have just examined, except for the two little green ones, is Philippino invasion money. Ordinarily, one peso is worth fifty cents in American money, so you might think that these sixty-four and a half pesos are worth $32.25, But before we got here, it cost the Philippinos two thousand of these things for a pair of shoes — fifteen hundred for a shirt, etc. However, since we’ve taken over, they have also been used to supplement our toilet paper supply. The green ones are Dutch money I picked up while at (CENSOR) I’m sure I’ve already sent other

Censor removed this section

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examples of that money home already. Hold on to the stuff for me. It’ll make nice souvenirs for my kids, (No! I don’t have any yet. I’m speaking of the future) If everything goes all right this evening, that is — if the Japs have no objections and they often do at night — we are supposed to see a movie. It has been so long since I’ve seen one I think I’d even sweat through another showing of “Johnny Come Lately.” Hell, I’ve only seen it five or six times since I’ve been overseas. The mail is beginning to trickle through now, and I suppose I’ll be hearing from you soon. I’m looking forward to your letters. Herm

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Philippines, Feb. 24th Dear Iz and Sil, I should make carbon copies of my letters. They’re all about the same as you have noticed. I told you we were given a rest. It is now a memory — one of the restful, quiet nights and not to busy days — a rare thing in the Philippines. I can tell you that I passed thru the “largest city in the Islands” — not exactly the healthiest thing to do at the time. It was a terrible sight — dead Japs lying all over the streets and pavements and among the ruins (They looked beautiful with holes in their heads and blood and oil all over their bodies) The sounds of sniper shots wasn’t exactly conducive to our enjoyment of the trip. Feburary 24th, 1944

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We are now located on a high plateau overlooking the most beautiful lakes and valleys I have ever seen. The days are cool and the nights are cold — cold enough to warrant the use of four woolen blanks. I’d almost forgotten what cold weather is. Iv received another package today from Harry and Ida, and six letters. It’s swell to know you are doing well at Buchman. We have plenty of beer on hand ourselves, but, as yet, it hasn’t been passed out. The “Flips” are around all day long bartering bananas and eggs and other fruits, etc. I never eat so many bananas in all of my life. That’s it for now. Take care of yourself. Love Herm

Feburary 24th, 1944

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March 3rd, 1944

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March 3rd, 1944 Philippines Dear Iz, Everything here O.K. Still in good health — still sweating out German collapse and the future. I guess you know that the overseas duty requirement has gone up — now thirty months instead of eighteen — so don’t expect to see me for a couple of years yet. I don’t expect this war to end before late ‘forty-six or, quite possibly, ‘forty-seven. Do you remember the subject we discussed when last I saw you, in ‘43, to which I dissented? Let me know your ideas again.

March 3rd, 1944

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Naturally, the matter cannot be fully discussed in the letter, but I’m sure you understand what I’m talking about. As I have said before, the past couple of months offered an abundance of excitement, anxiety, and interest. The future seems to hold no change. If anything, it will probably be more interesting. That will be all for now. Good luck, I miss you very much. Herm

March 3rd, 1944

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Mr. Izadore Shooster Ridley Apts. Apt #1 22nd and Melrose Ave. Chester, Pa. U.S.A Pvt Herman Shooster 637 Clr Co Sep APO 9184 c/o/ Postmaster, San Francisco, Calif

Happy Birthday Iz Your kid brother wishes you all the good luck and happiness that you truly deserve. I only regret that I can’t be there to shake your hand personally. I think an awful lot of my “Big Brother.” Herm

May 4th, 1944

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April 20, 1944

Pvt Herman Shooster 637 Clr Co Sep APO 9641 % Postmaster, San Francisco, California April 20, 1944 Mr and Mrs Harry Shooster c/o Mr I. Shooster 22 Melrose Ave, Apt 9 Chester, Pa USA Dear Harry and Ida,

Of course, you understand why I’ve addressed your letter to Iz’s place. As far as Mother and Pop are concerned, this place is heaven. However, I think I should tell you boys as much of the truth as I’m permitted to. In the first place, three quarters of this place is ankle deep in mud. I hear there’s a stream somewhere around this stinking place where you can bathe and wash your clothes. Of course, it’s muddy water, but then what the hell, it’s still water. One of our officers said today, “This is the only place I’ve ever been in where the mud is fragrant.” That’s all I can tell you about New Guinea. If I weren’t conditioned in training, I doubt whether I would be able to live here. What I have written is the truth, but, naturally, it isn’t the whole truth - there is so much more. I know now why men who come back don’t like to talk about it. God, I’d give my right arm to be home with you, but not until every filthy, lousy, dirty Jap is annihilated.

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Brother, Herm

1944, Apr 20 - Dear Harry and Ida

April 29, 1944 Pvt Herman Shooster 637 Clr Co Sep, APO 322 % PM San Francisco April 28th 1944 Mr and Mrs Frank Shooster 1904 West Third St. Chester, Pa. USA Dear Mother and Dad,

1944, Apr 20 - Dear Harry and Ida

Received two letters just a little while ago. Sorry to hear that your scribe has been ill. I guess by this time Harry is working at Ford’s or the Shipyard so I guess I won’t have to worry about getting my equipment. Was very glad to hear that Ikey and Moishe are getting furloughs. Wish I could be there for the festivities. Mother, all of your letters seem sad and I hate to think of you worrying for nothing. There really is no need for worry when I’m just as safe as you are in Chester. We get plenty to eat, plenty of sleep and all in all it seems like a swell vacation. We go swimming and fishing in the afternoons and sit around reading or playing chess or throwing the bull at night, just like little campfire girls. You have no idea how beautiful the South Seas can be, the only thing I’m worried about is whether or not we’ll have ice cream Sunday. Love Herm

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April 26, 1944 33784220 Pvt. Herman Shooster 637 Clr. Co. Sep APO 312 c/o P.M. San Francisco April, 26th 1944 Mr. and Mrs. Frank Shooster 1904 West 3rd St. Chester, Pa USA Dear Mother and Dad,

Lots of little things to tell you about this evening. Gilberg gave me a haircut with a pair of bandage scissors and a comb, looks pretty good too. At the same time Shelton* came out of the tent and asked me to sprinkle some talcum on his back. I spread it on nice and thick, you know, and then I found out it was my powder he was using, the louse. ‘Course I couldn’t stand for that so I took steps. Shelton had a little water trough out in the back of the tent to catch rain water so I washed my hair in it. So it goes - all day long, one guy gaging another and all of us having a good time. We have a sign up outside our joint now. AIR RAID SHELTER and below another one WAITRESS WANTED. Yeah, we really have the place fixed up nice - pin up girls and all.

1944, Apr 26 Letter expressing goofing with Major Shelton.

Love Herm

*Note - Shelton is Major Shelton, M.D. the company commander and chief surgeon

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Front of V-Mail - Free

1944, April 29th Saturday Pvt Herman Shooster 637 Clr Co Sep, APO 322 % PM San Francisco April 29th, Saturday 1944 Mr and Mrs Frank Shooster 1904 West Third St. Chester, Pa. USA Dear Mother and Dad,

1944, Apr, 29th Saturday Letter to mother and father

Instructions on Back of V-Mail

I’m writing on a very cool and delightful Saturday afternoon. From where I am sitting I can see the blue and white “wavelets” of the ocean splashing and dashing up against the huge chunks of coral that line the coast. It looks so inviting that I sometime have the urge to rush down to the rocks and plunge in - clothes and all. Although swimming from the reefs might be dangerous, there are little spots of sandy beach here and there where the water is calm and warm. You need have no fear of my swimming for we always go in a bunch and you know that I can swim well. We’ve set up our day room now and made a long writing table for it. Our short wave radio is there together with our records and record player. It’s nice to sit around in the evening listening to soft music or news while you read. We also get Tokyo’s propaganda. We are having a chess tournament and of all people, I’ve drawn our Commanding Officer for the final set. But, when there’s a will there’s a lawsuit. Shoos

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May 13th, 1944 New Guinea Dear Iz and Sil Went on sick call this morning with a sore throat and found out that the tonsils I had taken out when I was eight years old are now as big as almonds. Medical officer told me they were O.K. though and not to bother about them unless they bother me in the future. I trust that by this time, Sil, you’ve conquered your debility and that everything is running along smoothly. Every little thing here is running along pleasantly as you would expect, however, the mosquitoes are loathsome, they actually spit on you before they bite. Speaking of mosquitoes last night after “retiring” two mosquitoes came into my tent, and, thinking me asleep, the following conversation took place: 1st mosquitoe, “Gee, he looks nice and juicy.” 2nd mosquito, “You said it! Do you think we ought to take him down to the beach? 1st mosquitoe, “What!! and let the big ones get him! (Believe it or not, I’m working on a method of harnessing waves and creating electrical power thereby.)

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“Hernando” Shooster

May 13th, 1944

May, 1944 Dear Iz, One of the fellows coined a new name for me today - “The Singing Rabie,” Well, I don’t know how good it is, but if they’re concerned enough to joke about it, it must be good for morale. Seems like we’re always soaking. If it isn’t sweat, it’s rain. We waited around on deck today for an hour and a half waiting for the movie to start, and just as the screen lit up, it started to rain like hell — sanfu — situation normal, all fucked up. How about letting me in on some of the news back home, e.g., rape cases, race riots, etc. Funny thing, I was thinking today of that trip you and Sil, and I went on to the Dupont Gardens when I was on furlough. “Any ice today, lady?” “No” “Giddy up.” Herm

May, 1944

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June 9th,1944 New Guinea Dear Iz and Sil, This is the first chance I’ve had all day to write a letter. It’s now eleven o’clock Friday morning. We’ve been clearing away underbrush all morning, and I mean it’s work — axes and machetes flying all kinds of ways. I’ve about four blisters as a reward. You know, you could start pulling vines out of trees, and fifteen minutes later, you’d still be pulling on the same vine — and still not see the end. (note: Gilberg just advanced this idea that, “all they need over here is a big brewery and everybody’d be happy”) ah, for an ice-cold bottle of beer!!! What’s that? There’s no use telling you how happy everyone is over here that the invasion has started. You can imagine how it will affect us. Home looks so much closer now. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if I were sitting in the living room in fifteen or eighteen months. I’m only praying that it shall be. Brother Herm

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June 9th, 1944

June 13th, 1944 New Guinea Dear Sil, Received your letter and the enclosed “poetry,” The letter was very nice. So Iz promised to write me, eh? Must be quite a task when he has to make promises to write. As yet, I have not received any letter from him. Don’t tell me. I know. — “His thoughts are with me.” — which isn’t a hell of a lot of good, for I am not telepathically inclined. By the way, what makes you think that poem originated in an army camp. Did you ever hear of the Navy? (Hum) Sil, I’m sorry I’ve not written you more often, but you see, I didn’t know whether or not you still had the apartment. Glad to hear that Milt made it. That’s an impossibility with me. All for now. I’ll write soon again. Love Herm

June 13th, 1944

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June 18th, 1944 New Guinea Dear Iz and Sil, How is every little thing? Fords still keeping ‘em rolling? Except for the fact that I had the most beautiful case of hives you’ve ever seen, everything is, as usual, fine. That knife Pop sent me has really come in handy for jungle work. The other day we got into some places where I practically had to cut my way out. And strange as it seems, I came across a Jap barricade in the most dense parts. How they ever build barricades in there without disturbing the surrounding undergrowth, I’ll never know. Even worse than the mosquitoes in there were (if you pardon the expression), the goddam flies. These are about half as big as house flies at home, but they have a bite like a horse. If you folks at home could see these battlefields, you’d never forget it. Thank God you don’t have to see them. Love Herm

June 18th, 1944

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July 5th Wed. 1945 New Guinea Dear Iz and Sil, I’ve been plenty mad in my day, but I’ve cursed more in the past two days than ever before — all because of those G__ D____ little yellow ants. We’ve been clearing brush the past couple of days, and no matter where you stand, sit, step or put your hands you’ve got ants crawling all over you. They’ve claws on them like cats and a bite like a horse. I guess I told you that I received your letter Iz. I wish you’d write me more like it. As for the work I may be doing, and how things are with the old 637th, of course, I can’t say very much. However, I am in the best of health — and intend to remain that way. The kid isn’t quite as fool-hearty as he used to be. It doesn’t pay. Well, I’ll sign off now; for I am on guard tonight, so I must polish up my rifle and my brass buttons and put foot powder in my shoes. (Humm) Hell of a letter, but I’ll write a better one next time. Lotions of sweet love from the land of paradise. Herm

July 1944

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August 27th, 1944 Philippines Dear Iz and Silvia, Things have certianly been happening fast the past few weeks. Many of the events we’ve been hoping for and fighting for here finally materialized. I hope the victory has not created any over-optomism as to my homecoming. I shall probably spend many months of the coming year in uniform and my prospects for leaving the Far East are not good. Don’t be surprised if I should turn up in Japan. However, I have resigned myself to this possibility and am even looking forward to it. Home still seems a long way off. Believe it or not, some of the things I thought I’d never forget are pretty hazy in my memory. It’ll sure be great to see it again. How about my nephew or nice? What’s holding things up? Have you decided anything in the way of a name? About the only reading I’ve been doing lately is magazines. e.g. Yank, Time, Fortune. Fortune rates tops with me; I don’t think there is a better magazine of its type. Nothing much more to say except that the neat camp life is the nuts and I’m doing a lot of swimming and sunning. I’m in good shape again and feeling like a million. Lots of Love Herm

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P.S. The title has just been conferred upon me for the coming years as, “the man whose hairline is most likely to receed.”

August 27th, 1944

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Pvt. Herman Shooster 637 Clr Co Sep, Sec Plt APO 322 %PM San Francisco Mrs. Ida Shooster 1904 West Third St Chester, Pa. Aug 27, 1944 New Guinea Dear Ida,

Thanks for letting me know about Carol. I could hardly believe it. I think she could have been decent enough to write herself. It was kind of hard to take at first, but I guess it’s all for the best. Who did she marry? One of those USO heros? Give her my best wishes. I sincerely hope she’ll be very happy. Every little thing here is O.K. The weather has taken a turn for the good and we haven’t had any rain for the past few days. How’s your driving coming along? Do we still have garage doors? I can just imagine you and Janet going for spring water. I’ll bet she even tries to help you with the jugs. All for now, Butch, See you, Herm

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1944, Aug 27, New Guinea - to Ida about Carol

Netherlands East Indies, November, 21st 1944 Dear Tanta*,

I haven’t written you for a long time, but I know you’ll understand. I hope that everything at home is fine and that you’re all in good health. I was glad to learn that you had taken a little time out for a vacation. As you have noticed I am no longer in New Guinea. Of course, I can’t tell you where I am but, if I could I’m sure the name would be quite familiar. As it is, the days are long and sunny, the nights cool and comfortable and the work ample. Need I say that I am in the best of health? There isn’t much more I can say now but give my best to everyone, So Long for a while, Love Herman *Tanta - Aunt

1943, Nov 21st - To Tanta Mary

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Nov. 24, 1944 Nov. 24th Wed. Eve Dear Silvia, I’m not going to write much — nothing important to talk about. We were on a bivouc last night and, of course, I had to be selected as a guard. Speaking of California warmth, I wore three pairs of socks and my feet still froze. I never saw the stars so bright or so numerous. I might add, that walking around on the side of a 30 degree mountain side (diagram) with no moon and no flash was rather difficult. We each had dug our foxhole that afternoon and last night I kept falling into them. Glad to hear Milt was home on fourlough. When you write tell me what he has to say. I hope you like this little thing I’ve sent along. It’s my arm patch (4th Army) Have to stop now — beautiful girl just asked me to dance. Humm. Love Herman

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4th Army Patch

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Netherlands Indies Nov. 27th, 1944 Dear Iz and Sil, I hardly know what to write, there is little worth telling. I just want you to know that even though my letters are scarce, I think of you often. The mail clerk really came through today — five letters from Sil and Mother and Edith. The homefront seems to be holding its own. How is the draft situation as far as you and Harry are concerned, Iz? I don’t wish you any ill health, but I hope you two can keep out of this. Have you decided on any business yet? Let me know all the details of what you’ve done toward that end so far and how the situation stands. As usual, I am in the best health. I haven’t weighed myself since leaving the states, but I imagine I’m still about 165 or 170. — maybe a little more. A guy can’t gain weight eating spam and bully beef. All for now, Love, Herm

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Nov. 27th, 1944 page 1

Nov. 27th, 1944 page 2

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Netherlands Indies December 5th, ‘44 Dear Iz and Sil, Six o’clock — Tuesday evening — weather, raining — activity, nil. Just sitting here thinking about what I’ve done today — an ordinary day. I’ve reached the same conclusion that I have a hundred times before— that I could write pages to you describing each day’s details and events, but that it would be useless. It is difficult to describe fully how one lives, but this isn’t even living. The folks at home, no matter how patriotic or eager, can never know. I’ll tell you what I did today, and you still won’t know. It seems we needed some long poles and that means working in the jungle. The rain didn’t help much. We had to pick our way through the undergrowth in some places one and two hundred yards from the road, cut the small saplings, and drag them out to the road. Sweating, dripping wet from the rain, sinking down into the bog, trying to keep the ants out of your hair and the sweat out of your eyes — miserable isn’t the word for it. I can understand why men at home who have been overseas don’t talk much. What good are words?

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December 4th, 1944

At any rate, with all that the SWPA is, we still have our hopes and our faiths and our sense of humor. I think I can be safe in saying that there isn’t a man among us who sometimes or another during the day doesn’t think of home or some loved one. I keep thinking how things will be when I get home again. — hoping they’ll be the same and knowing that they won’t. I’m sorry if my cynicism has annoyed you. It annoys me too, but there isn’t much I can do about that. Thanks for all your letters, Sil. How about hearing from you, Iz, occasionally.

Kid brother Herm

December 4th, 1944

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N.E.I. December 23rd, 1944 Saturday Night. Dear Iz and Sil, I really shouldn’t be writing this letter now. I’ve just finished two in that gay and pessimistic style of mine. Now I’m drifting into a melancholy mood. However, I’ll try not to talk about the army and the war. “Madame Tokyo” is on full blast again. I have to admit that their propaganda is clever. Not only is their news colored and distorted, but the program, on the whole, is designed to lower morale. You see, it is made up mostly of records which were popular in the states about three of four years ago — the ones that inevitably brings back memories of post-war days. One who does not understand their motive could be very easily demoralized. One of their favorite tricks is reading letters supposedly written by Aussie war prisoners and aimed at the people of Australia.

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December 23rd, 1944

Their news concerns primarily events in China, where the Japanese situation, as you know, is slightly favorable, and personalities and domestic situations in the states. Unfortunately, interrupting or counteracting this propaganda is rather difficult, as far as I know, for it is about the cleanest wavelength that reaches us. You might compare it with W.C.A.U and W.D.E.N. in Chester. Did I say I was going to forget about the war in this letter? Yours as always, Herm

December 23rd, 1944

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Netherlands East Indies December 26th,1944 Dear Iz and Sil, Everything here on the other side of the world, as far as myself is concerned, is fine. I hope you enjoyed a nice Christmas. If after this letter you don’t hear from me for quite some time, please don’t become discouraged — but keep your fingers crossed. Received a letter from Ida’s sister today with a picture of her in her Cadet Nurse’s uniform. WOW! Now I know what we’re fighting for.

December 26th, 1944

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We received some very nice Christmas packages from the Red Cross yesterday, which was quite a surprise. It contained several useful articles, which were some chocolate, a tobacco pouch, several little booklets, and some writing material. So far, I haven’t received any packages from home, but I suppose some are on the way. It’s 10:20 P.M. now, and the lights are due to do out any minute, so I guess I’d better stop here. Keep writing me, Herm

December 26th, 1944

P.S. So you’ve finally bought a business! When I get home after the war, among other things, I expect to go out on about a two week drunk. Looks like I’ll be keeping the dough in the family. H.

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Jan. 23rd, 1945

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January 23rd, 1945 Philippines Islands Dear Iz and Sil, I can’t think of much to write at the moment, but I thought I’d better drop a line to let you know I’m O.K. I never realized before how terse and shallow news reports are. What they say is true enough, I suppose, but, oh, the human interest last is lost; the stories that are never told. But, perhaps, it is the wisest course in the long run. Much of what I have seen in the past couple of weeks is better left unsaid. I must ask you again, not to mention my whereabouts to anyone. I don’t want Mother or Dad to find out where I am, for you know how much they worry. It has been almost a month since I received any mail, and it will probably be another week or two before it comes through. Boy, I’m really sweating it out, too. Jan. 23rd, 1945

Be seeing you, Herm

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Feb. 6th , 1945

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Feb. 6th , 1945

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Luzon, Philippines February 6th, 1945 Dear Iz and Sil, I know that Mother and Dad will be hurt because I am not sending this enclosed commendation directly to them. These things aren’t handed out every day, and to hear our C.O. put it, it’s quite an honor. However, in my estimation, it’s nothing to get exciting about, so just keep it in the family. When I think it’s O.K. to let the folks know where I am, I’ll write you, and you can give it to them. The only reason I’m sending it now is because of the information which it contains, and which I am sure you will be interested. Ironically enough, we cannot say in writing the information this contains. Saw a swell movie last night— the first in a long time. It was Jack Benny in “The Meanest Man in Town” with plenty of shorts. The first short was Bob Crosby’s Orchestra. I could almost feel chills run up my spine when he started to play and damn near every one of us there felt like cheering for joy. There’s nothing like good old American swing, and boy now we miss it. Yes, sir, there’s a Great Day coming. Bye now, Herm P.S. As yet, I’ve received no Christman package from home, but I’m sure there are some on the way. 430

February 6th, 1944

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Philippines, Feb 12th, 1945 Dear Iz, The postmaster general was very kind today and, through his representative, our mail orderly, presented me with five letters from home. Two were Christmas Cards, one a Valentine’s Greeting and the other two were the real thing. Your letter was among them. Hearing from you is like a shot in the arm. So, the tap room’s in Buckners Village, eh? That was one of my battle grounds before the war. It’s swell to know that things are going well and if you meet with the same success I did there, wow! Iz, you express a great deal of optimism in your letter as concerns the ending of the war. I don’t know whether your trying to boost my morale or whether you actually believe that rot. Personally, even with the great success we are now experiencing in the West as well as the East, I have no hopes of seeing home ‘till late in forty six or quite possibly, forty seven. There is a long way to go yet, Iz. All of us over here, who make those lines you see on maps, know what lies beyond them. What most people can’t understand is that every mile closer to victory is a tougher and a bloodier mile. At any rate, I’m glad that you and Harry don’t have to walk those miles. Whenever I think that you or he should possibly have to go it makes me shudder. War isn’t nice. I know. And the fewer who have to take part in it the better. We don’t want any more men than we actually need. Unfortunately there are too many stupid people who believe that, “If I’m in it why shouldn’t you be.” Their jealousy and selfishness makes me sick. That’ll be all from me, now. Take it easy and take care of yourself.

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Kid brother, Herm

Letter from Herman to Iz, 1945 Philippines, Feb 12th

Your Kid Brother, Herm 1945 Philippines, Feb 12th

Letter from Herman to Iz, 1945 Philippines, Feb 12th

Envelope - Airmail 1945 Philippines, Feb 12th

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Philippines, April 2, 1945 Dear Iz and Sil, Nothing much new to say. I’m having a grand time in my off hours meeting the people seeing the town and picking up a souvenir here and there. The mail arrived today, and I was fortunate in receiving eleven letters. You can imagine how welcome it was for me haven’t had any in three weeks. I’m sorry to learn that Milt has been in the hospital the past few weeks. I hope it’s nothing serious. Right now, I am on duty, and as there isn’t much to do but keep an eye open, I’ve plenty of time to write letters. I wish I had as much abilities as time. One of the boys just dropped in, and we’ve been chewing the fat the past few minutes. He’s interested in buying one of my knives, but I think I’ll hold on to them for a while. I’ve quite a collection, you know — a couple of beauties, too. See You, Herm April 2nd, 1945

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April 2nd, 1945

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April 26th, 1945 Thursday Afternoon Dear Iz and Sil, Sorry I haven’t written you for so long. No excuses — just lazy. Well, here I am again playing nursemaid to a bunch of wounder Jap P.O.W.’s Things have been swell for us lately, not working too hard and plenty of spare time. Tuesday night we had a dance. A swell band good refreshments and plenty of beautiful Spanish and Filippino gals help to make the night one to be remembered. Last night Vince Galvy and myself and one of our officers were invited to dinner by a rather well-todo Filippino family. There’s no use in going into all the courses. I told you all about the way they feed in another letter. But there was plenty, and it was all well prepared and tasty. The family are practically all professional people. I think they include about three doctors, a Laboratory Technician, and an Engineer. What’s new in Chester? Iz, how come you haven’t written me for so long? Well, bye now Herm

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April 26th, 1945

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Philippines May 12th, 1945 Dear Iz and Sil, Well, the demobilization point system, as you know, has finally been announced. Although it doesn’t help me much, I think it was quite fair. They announced over the radio that, for the present, no one will be considered for discharge who has less than 85 points. I have only 40. Here is how I figure. June 5th, I will have 24 months in the army — that’s 24 points, plus an extra point for every one of those months spent overseas — 14 points. Plus, two points for two campaigns. Note that we aren’t awarded points for missions but for campaigns. (If a guy was on ten different beachheads in New Guinea or the Philippines, he still only gets 1 point. Ho, Hum, only about fifteen more years to sweat out. I could kick myself now for not getting married before I left. (I could have, you know) I came damn close to it too.

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May 12th, 1945

That 12 extra points they award for a first child would sure come in handy. Brother, this army life is no fun and, as bad as it sounds, I think a wife and kid would be the lesser of two evils. Yeah, I guess you better not figure on seeing me for a long, long time. As you know, we’ve been living very decently (figuratively speaking) the past seven weeks — regular duty hours and enough free time to get around without being cramped. Just today, I spent a very enjoyable afternoon with a damn pretty Spanish senorita. I have a date with her for Wednesday night. Some sailor I met today has a date with her sister, so we’ll go out together, and the girls can chaperone each other instead of having to drag the family. The deal is too good for us, though, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed. The same old question is still with us — Wonder where to next: and How long ‘till then? May 12th, 1945

Herm

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Philippines, March 24th, 1945, Saturday Dear Iz and Sil, It is twelve-thirty in the afternoon. I am sitting at a makeshift desk in a small room which forms part of the rear section of an old school building, this room, and many others have been converted into several wards. This ward, in particular, is the Prisoner of War section and before me on army cots lie ( CENSOR ) sick and wounded ‘Tojo’ men. They receive good medical care, and, so much as I hate them for what they have done and are doing, as long as they are in my charge, they will receive good nursing care. By various ‘round-robin’ methods, we manage to converse with each other, and some of the things they say are very interesting. There is no doubt that they are well satisfied and comparatively happy. I imagine they are very much surprised at the treatment afforded them, for, as you know, the Japanese are indoctrinated with the belief that Americans are butchers and torture and kill those whom they capture.

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March 24th, 1945

Enough of that. I am well and very happy with the progress we are making. As you have no doubt noticed, time has brought an increasing momentum to the Pacific was, and I am hoping that by this time next year, we may be entering the closing phase of the war. I suppose you have already noticed my change of address. Naturally, I can not discuss it, but it accounts for the absence of my letters for so long. I have not received any mail for a long time, but I hope that everything is all right and that business is improving with the weather. Ask me what you want to know, and I’ll try to answer as much as I can within the limits of censorship. March 24th, 1945

Kid Brother Herm

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Opened by U.S. Army Examiners

July 26th, 1945 Dear Silvia and Liz, You will recall a request I made of you several weeks ago concerning some books. Among them, the one which I wanted most was ‘Roget’s Thesaurus.’ You need not look further for a Thesaurus, for one of the boys who left for home offered me his. It is a late edition, well worn, but in good shape. I could not have asked for a more useful or practical book.

July 26th, 1945

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I have been less successful in my search for the others. ‘The Story of Philosophy’ is another book for which I have been impatiently waiting. I hope you will find time soon to look for it. It is very well written by Will Durant — should not be difficult to procure. I read it once, but a good book deserves much more attention. I might even suggest if you’ve not done so already that you read it before sending it to me! Everything here is up to snuff. All I have to do now is learn a few more words of Bisayan and try my hand at riding a Caribou, and I’ll practically be a native. Herm

July 26th, 1945

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November 19th, 1945 Dumaguete, Negros Dear Iz and Sil,

I’m sorry such a long time has elapsed since my last letter. But, sweating it out this was these days, I seldom have the patience to write. Within two weeks, possibly by the time you receive this letter, I hope to be on a ship heading for the sates. Yes, believe it or not, it’s that close. You must understand that plans are constantly changing, but as of today, everything indicates that we will disembark in San Francisco. I will be discharged in Indiantown Gap. We have already turned in our sizes for clothing, which we expect to receive in a few days. The readiness date is still the 30th, and we may debark any time after that date, depending on when some transportation is available. That’s the whole story as it stands today. How’s my little nephew these days.

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November 19th, 1945

Is he gaining weight? Do you think he’ll make a good football player? I can just imagine bouncing him on my knee a few years from now and telling him horror stories about the war. How soon is he supposed to have teeth? Yesterday, the company raffled off five new Ronson lighters, and I was one of the lucky winners. Only cost me $ 6.50, too. (That’s $3.25 in American money). Night before last, a couple buddies and myself went out on a little binge. We had a hell of a good time, but I had to take the next day off. I have such a terrific hangover. We’re sweating out our beer issue now so we can celebrate something. I don’t know what we’re going to celebrate, but with thirty bottles of beer, you can do a lot of celebrating. November 19th, 1945

Herm

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September 9th, 1945 Bacolod City, Negros Dear Iz and Sil, I haven’t written you or Harry and Ida for some time, but I’m sure you’ve been keeping up with me through my letters home. Censorship has been lifted now, as you know, and the other day I sent a long letter home that should be of interest to you. I wrote a brief account of where I have been and when and told a few incidents of interest over these past eighteen months overseas. Naturally, everything cannot be told in a letter, censorship, or no censorship. I’d be writing for eighteen days. I received, among others, letters from each of you today. Things seem to be going well. Iz, you mention that Sylvia was expecting the 4th. My! Medicine has certainly become

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September 9th, 1945

a precision science. Did the doctor tell you what hour it would be on the 4th? I can just see you pacing the floor during the crucial hours. Maybe you and Harry will be walking it together. What a sight! Don’t worry, though. Everythings gonna be O.K. (I guess that must be very comforting). Just like you keep telling me, Iz, — Other guys have done it. So can you. Have you decided on a name yet? Are you prepared for a doubleheader? (No, I’m not referring to a mutation). Sil, you said something about a guy who came into the stand the night of the surrender celebration and sat on your lap. Is he blind!! Somebody should have smacked him in the teeth! Maybe we ought to hire bodyguards for you two gals. All for now. Everything is fine here. Herm

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Opened by

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WHEN YOU’RE IN LOVE by Herman Shooster

Hear the music of a vi-o-lin See the twinkle of a sleep-y star. Hear the whisper of a Faint gui-tar, When you’re in love. Touch a star, its light will shine for you, Feel the moon light dancing on your hair, linger in the warmth of arms that care, When you’re in Love Believe the mu-sic you hear Have faith and you’ve no-thing to fear. Welcome this gift of ro-mance Don’t miss your ho-ly chance. Trust the magic of the mood you’re in, Gather love before it fades a-way, Give your heart and soul in ev’-ry way When you’re in Love.