Open Writing

Susan was growing fast. She had started in an excellent kindergarten in Netherhall Gardens, Hampstead. Then she won a place at South Hampstead High School, aged not much beyond four years.

One of the problems there was that she was alongside girls such as Julia Neuberger, who was a very bright girl. (She later became one of the first female Rabbis.) Susan realised she could never keep up and stopped trying. Thus by the time she reached 11, we were told that she would not be able to qualify for the senior school.

A hunt round enabled us to find what we thought was a good school in Highgate. After a while there, we realised things were not going well and went on the hunt once again. The delightful headmistress used to fall asleep whilst conducting lessons, and the girls were just not working.

This time the Jewish Free School in Camden Town was our choice, although the deputy head that interviewed us had never heard of our Reform Synagogue. When he found out, he mentioned that we/she might find it a little difficult to cope with a more orthodox education. The difficulty never happened.

The JFS was the right school for Susan. She enjoyed it, worked, made many friends (some of whom she still sees) and was successful at sports. She ended as a prefect, and that experience was also important for her, enabling her to become a responsible and capable organiser.

Birth and Death

One of our hopes when we married was that we would manage to have four children. In spite of all our efforts, number two did not happen. So after four years we sought medical advice, and finally Hilde became pregnant. She treated herself with great care, and finally came the moment when I rushed her to the maternity home by Hampstead Whitestone Pond.

This was in the middle of the night, and before leaving home I phoned Hilde’s mother to ask her to take a taxi to our place to look after Susan. She had a key to let herself in. The hospital accepted Hilde and told me to go home since the baby was not imminent. When I got back, Hilde’s mother, Mutti, was in Hilde’s half of the bed, and so I climbed in the other half. In a worried way she told me never to tell anyone that we had slept together.

The next morning I was back at the hospital, and we sat together for a while until I was told that birth was imminent and would I get out. At that time it was considered impossible for a father to be present at the birth of his child. So down to Hampstead village to a little café for several cups of tea until the hour had passed and I was allowed to return.

There awaiting me was a little hairy boy whom we did not call Oscar, as we had threatened, but Daniel Roger. He has been as much of a pleasure as has our Susan. His only problem has been that he has been accident-prone, perhaps like his father. Falling off a haystack was but one of his antics.

At this point we accepted that our target of four children was probably beyond our ability, and so we settled happily for the two we had been granted. My mother was delighted with her first grandson.

My mother had continued living on her own since my father died, and we always saw a good deal of her. Our Susan much to her since she had never had a daughter.

One day she mentioned to Hilde that she was suffering from some bleeding and that her doctor had said it was quite normal at her time of life. Hilde immediately said, “You must see a specialist. It is not normal.”

This was done and an operation was organised. I was at the hospital when the operation was undertaken and was shocked when the surgeon came out and said, “I have done nothing. It is too late. She may live for another year.” She, poor woman, had suffered from inadequate family doctors at the two most critical times of her life.

We tried to make her last year as happy as possible, and I managed to persuade her to join me at the dental trade association conference, which was to be held in Torquay. She had been to so many trade conferences with our father, including some at Torquay. They were all pleased to have her with them, and she greatly enjoyed the few days there. On the final night she was specially toasted.

Gradually she weakened until it was necessary for her to enter the old Hampstead General Hospital, which was eventually demolished and the enormous Royal Free built in its place. Her three sons visited her regularly until one morning when in my office a telephone call summoned me urgently to the hospital. I made it in time to hold her hand as she slipped away. A gallant lady.

A double plot held my father, and so my mother was buried alongside him, with our old family friend Rev Vivian Simmons conducting the service. That evening we held prayers at our home with many friends and family present. My first school friend Leonard Snapper had seen a friend climbing aboard a bus and had asked where the person was going. When hearing the answer, he climbed on too and joined us for prayers, which were also conducted by Vivian Simmons.

The day before, we had eaten some Christmas pudding that contained some of the old silver threepenny pieces. Daniel, as a careless eater, managed to swallow one. So we had to check everything that emerged at the other end. Fortunately, the coin appeared just before prayers, and I preserved it as a special trophy that was eventually handed over to Daniel.

Although the Rabbi conducted a fine service, he did not make any personal address. So without warning, that became my job. Not difficult for a loving son.