Interviewed by Nina Davis in March 2005, at his apartment on Grand Street

You ask the questions and I’ll answer them… if I can. My name is Sidney Fermaglich.

You know how to spell it? F-E-R… M-A-G… L-I-C-H. My family was from Austria… Croatia... Somewhere in Austria…

I was born here; my oldest brother was born here. If he was alive he’d be over a hundred. I’ll be ninety in December. I got a baby brother who’s going to be eighty. My oldest brother… if he were alive today… he’d be about ninety-six… ninety- seven. My mother had six children… all boys. I lived… first I lived at 51 Sheriff Street… then we moved to 65 Sheriff Street... then we moved to the fancy one on 67 Sheriff Street where we had our own toilet and bath. And November 1930, we moved into the Amalganated on Grand Street..

The first co-op that went up here was the Amalgamated. I went into the army; came back and moved back in here. My brother gave me the apartment. So that was in 1945… the end of World War II.

When I was little… the games. It was rough games. We were east side kids and we played whatever we got a hold of… tag.... stupid games children play.

When I got home from school, first I would ask my mother to cut me a slice of bread with some shmear on it. And it was a treat. Then I went downstairs and played ball or did crazy things that the kids would do. We played ball. At times we broke into a peddler and stole sweet potatoes. That was a treat. We’d put them on the fire. We made a fire out of what we called our election fire… we saved up and we got crates and boxes. And on election day we made a big bonfire. That was a big thing. Then we went down to the Forward building and watched the results come in. We made the fire but I don’t recall who was Mayor or who was Commissioner. 

I used to deliver the whiskey and he gave me a half a dollar Every time.

When I got a little older there was a saloon right underneath where I lived on 67 Sheriff Street. So I used to deliver... this was the Prohibition... you couldn’t buy a drink, but he had a saloon. His name was David. I used to deliver the whiskey and he gave me a half a dollar Every time. That was big money. And when we moved out of there in 1930. we moved here…Amalgamated. my father took five rooms. The rent was $62.50 a month. There was a Depression... the heart of the Depression.

I didn’t have too many friends here anyway. I went back to my old street… Sheriff Street On Sheriff Street they had a man and a woman’s bath house... there was one on Allen Street too.

We didn’t have bath tubs where we lived. We had a sink in the kitchen..and you washed up in the kitchen. There was a bath house at 62 Sheriff Street. The name of the bath house was  Gang’s.  It was owned  by a man whose name was Gang. That was his name. He was my neighbor. I think one of his sons is alive today. He owned the bath house.You took a bath and you slept over... they had cots. There was more than one bath house.  At 65 Sheriff Street… in the basement… they put in some bath tubs and we  used to go in there to bathe. For a quarter, a half a dollar… you took a bath. It was a different time. Today... you turn the faucet on you get all the water you want. Then it was different.

In those days my father used to bring home the junk… the salvage. Certain pieces of wood; we put them in the stove and we heated the apartment. I can’t even describe it.

I went to school at PS 34. It was right here on Sheriff and Broome. And  then I went to PS 22  on Sheriff and Stanton; from  there I went to PS 97 for junior high school; From there I went to Seward Park. And then I got out of there and I went to work.  

The people on my block were all Jews. A few Gentiles... The Jews were merchants… the butcher… the man that sold chickens… merchants.  My mother didn’t work, She raised five..six sons. My father  was what they call today a salvage man… a junk man. He made a good livimg..a very good man… the best man I ever saw in my  life. My mom was just as great.  He went around and he’d buy junk…metal… rags… that’s what he did and he sorted it;  and he sold it.  He had a store on  2nd Street… a junk store… between 1st Avenue and Avenue A… 109 East 2nd Street. He had a horse and wagon. The horse’s name was Charlie. I grew up in a very privileged home. My brothers went to college.

The oldest one graduated from Columbia. My late brother graduated from NYU. In those days…a lot of kids didn’t even finish high school. I finished high school. After the war I came back here. I got married. Someone had this apartment. All that was left… my youngest brother and I... we both came back from the war... between us I got the apartment… I won out. I was older. It was very comfortable. It still is comfortable here.

I went into business... my father’s business. I went bankrupt in the business. Not all success stories… believe me. It was a very interesting street… Sherriff Street. Right opposite us lived the Greenglasses… Ethel... She was electrocuted. Her real name was Greenglass. She married Rosenberg. And she would be my age now if she were alive. I think she was about two months older than me. She lived at 64 Sherriff Street. She went to Seward Park High.

We never socialized. First of all, I was about fourteen or fifteen; and a girl who’s fifteen she looks for older fellows. She didn’t bother with us kids. It’s a fact of life. She was a very nice person… very nice person. It’s unfortunate.. that…They came from a large family too. The oldest was Sammy. He was as old as my oldest brother.

Ethel was my age or a little older than me. Then they had Bernie... I don’t know if he’s around or not. Then they had David who turned her in… if you remember the case. He married a girl by the name of Price. They wanted to persecute her so he turned his sister in. It was a terrible time. They were nice people… the father Bernie was a mechanic... a machinist. He had a little machine shop right at 64 Sherriff Street. That was the Greenglass family. As far as I was concerned they were all nice people. Whatever you want to think of them… may she rest in peace... she was a fine girl. It was unfortunate.

She met this guy Rosenberg and got married. I think they had two children. Two boys. But she was a nice woman. Her neighbors were nice people. I think her friend still lives there. I don’t know if they’re alive or not. Her neighbors…the Marks family... there was Molly… Billy... Morris... A large family… there weren’t small families. It was unfortunate. I felt very sorry For her. As far as dating her…she was what you would call a young woman.

Of course she was a very smart person. She wasn’t flighty. Young girls… sometimes… we all go through certain stages. When she went to high school I went to junior high. She was a little smarter than I. You better believe it. Girls were much brighter than us kids. We were stupid. We had our balls. We played punch ball. We did all crazy things. It was a very interesting street… the hoodlums that hung around there... the boys. They were tough.

I didn’t go to synagogue. My father wasn’t religious. I came from a non-religious family.

I loved him. My father was the greatest man I ever knew in my life. I never met a man that could equal him in his love for his wife and his six sons. Four of them are gone… just the baby brother that’s eighty. He just turned eighty in July. And he’s married... got two sons. I got married. I got one son and one daughter. And that’s about it.

Dreams? If I dreamt of anything it was so far fetched that I couldn’t even tell you. I still have certain dreams. They’re dreams. I get up in the middle of the night sometimes... and I say what the heck am I doing. Crazy. This morning I got up at three and got dressed; And I had my breakfast; made my coffee.

I had a great time as a kid. It was a different time. I used to run the whiskey for the boot legger that lived downstairs. He gave me a half a dollar every time I made a trip. A half a dollar to me was like a million dollars. Whadda ya’ think? You bought a piece of candy for a penny or two; you went to a movie for about ten cents. Especially with the

Depression… I went to all the movie theatres… all of them. I went to Loew’s Delancey on Delancey Street; I went to Loew’s Avenue B on 5th Street and Avenue B; I went on Clinton Street to the Odeon; the Palace; the Apollo. On Rivington Street they had the Waco. It was named for a town in Texas. They called it the Waco. We used to call it the ranch house. You went in there for a nickel… two for a nickel.

I  grew  up. The people I grew up with... I don’t think they’re around. All my friends… my contemporaries... they’re all gone. They lived to eighty… seventy-eight. I’m still around. I don’t care.  Look. I’ve already  had my fun... if you call it fun. We grew up as kids…made a few  cents here… I sold newspapers… anything to make a nickel or a dime. It was  money. 

I grew up in an area you couldn’t take a bath. We had to go on Rivington Street.

If you write a book on it the only thing is..I don’t think you should embellish. The Greenglass family. That was an interesting building… 64 Sherriff Street... it was right across the street. There was the Eisen family. They were the wealthy ones. They’re uncle was a Yaeger... I don’t know if the name means anything to you. They owned a pen and pencil company in New Jersey. He  married the owner’s daughter. They were wealthy people. I don’t know  if they made fifteen dollars a week. I’m just telling you who they were. So that building had the Marks... the all girl family I called them. There was one son and the rest were girls. And the one that was my age was Molly… Molly Marks. And their neighbors were the Greenglasses. They lived on the first floor.

The Greenglasses had the machine shop. And she was the janitor… Mrs. Greenglass. Janitor… what do you call it today… custodian. She was a tough hard working woman as you ever saw. And she had David, Bernie, Sammy, Ethel... that was her four kids.

I joined the Edgies… the Educational Alliance.

The last time I was on Sherriff Street was when they electrocuted Ethel. I went to give her mother what they call a Kugel. Everybody deserted her. The were called rats... spies... whatever... and I loved these people. I thought a hell of a lot differently. Maybe I’m a leftist I don’t know. I’m telling you the truth. The night that  they electrocuted her I went down there... It was a rough time. I know most of the people on the block condemmed them. I don’t know why they condemmed them. The other children in the family were hard working  good mechanics. They were all mechanical minded. Today I wouldn’t know if I saw them.

We knew a lot of people... at 60… 61 Sherriff Streeet… was Priscilla... got a fancy name. She  ran a beauty shop; she did women’s hair and all the stuff that comes with it. So I don’t know if they’re around. The Yaeger family..they are what we call millionaires. They owned the Wearever Pen Company. They  were living in Jersey. And I’m thinking of the people that lived there. Most of them had big families. I mean four or five kids. My family raised six sons… no girls. I’ll be ninety. And that’s the story of my life.

I joined the Edgies… the Educational Alliance. I went to camp... I was a kid there. My name… Fermaglich… it means wealth. You understand Yiddish? Pronounce it the way I do… FER… MA… GLICH… That means wealth.