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Letter from Helene in Vienna to her daughter Eva in San Francisco. Eva graduated from Washington High School in June 1940 and began studying nursing at Mount Zion Hospital School of Nursing in early September. At this time, Eva was 19 years old.
51st Clipper Friday, 20 September 1940
My dear Eva! Papa’s typewriter is in the shop so I’m using our renter’s. This one is behaving like a wild horse which wants to throw its rider off. I thank you for your letter from August 31st. Thank you for starting the number system of your letters. (Harry should also use that.) And - last not least - for sending the money. The amount has not come to me yet, but the letter itself was a deus ex machina, since we needed it as a document to deal with our finances. When I got the letter from Berlin, I couldn’t believe that the amount could be from you and I had to wait with my thanks until I found out who the anonymous benefactor was. You can imagine the feelings I had when I got the communication that the amount came from your first summer job. You can imagine that through my tears that I had to laugh at your comment that you were practically making excuses that you couldn’t promise anything. Please don’t worry, my child – the fact that you sent your first money to us - that is not just a source of strength for us, but makes us feel certain that we will be reunited. This also gives us the opportunity to express our thanks for your love by your deeds and not just by the words you send.
When you get my letter, you will be in the middle of your work and your next letter will probably include a description of what you’re learning. It did not surprise me that Aunt Tillie acted like a berserk person and was in a rage about your clothing, considering those rags that you brought with you. Your shoes too were something I never agreed with - those heels you wear. The reason that she does not answer has to do with the experiences she has had with those under her care. It’s bitter and not very flattering to be thrown into the same pot with these people. It seems like heaven intended that all these bitter experiences were ones that you were to experience in order for you to emerge lucidly from all this infernal knowledge.
If you had any idea of the conditions under which this letter is coming to be, you would really admire me. Everything we have as far as furniture goes is in your room, stored there, which is only possible given the small size of that room because we put everything on top of each other. If the doorbell rings now, I have to get over Papa’s bed and climb over two stacked armchairs, hang onto the dresser, jump on my bed, and make my way from the other table to the door, take the day bed which is in the front room, push it to the side, and dance through the doorway in the small amount of room remaining. Why? Well, the floor from the balcony has been sinking and the construction foreman who is doing the general repairs got the contractor to take out about a square meter of the parquet floor to find out how bad this – it’s moist and there are woodworms and bugs which have probably done damage to the Dippelbäume ceiling [type of beamed ceiling construction]. We determined that one of the beams will have to be completely replaced and at least five square meters were torn up and out of this pile of debris there is a Karstgebirgs landscape and the iron structures became visible. In our room it looked like a train had derailed. So, the various contractors and construction people who have been working have been trading off with their work hours from 7 in the morning for the last three days. Although everything is done, there is a thick layer of dust in the next rooms and when I wipe the dust off the tablecloths and the table and the armchairs, it is like a mockery. The Stapplers have it even worse since their apartment is completely cleaned out.
Your kiss in the color of a cyclamen flower has pleased me although I actually like your natural style better. Also, the color is not really on the paper anymore, but on my lips. Kiss, kiss, kiss to each one. Helen
In Helene’s previous letter to Eva seen in the September 6 post, she describes the renters who have recently moved in to help defray the cost of living. As she does so often, Helene tells a funny story that barely masks the inconvenience and upset of having to share their living space with strangers, and just how straitened their circumstances have become.
Helene mentions that 100 marks arrived from San Francisco from an unknown source. In 1940, 100RM would have been worth $250US. That would be worth almost $5,000 in today’s dollars. I don’t know what that meant in terms of buying power in 1940 Vienna, but it must have seemed a fortune, particularly considering its source. That summer, Harry worked for the Levy-Zentner produce company and I believe that Eva worked as a nanny in Mill Valley for a distant relative or acquaintance.
In reading through family papers, I have come to realize what a hero my mother was. Imagine being 19 years old, a world away from her parents, feeling responsible for her younger brother as well as for her parents’ financial and emotional well-being. Eva and Harry sent every penny they earned to help their parents; she wrote letters ceasely and sealed her most recent letter with a lipstick kiss – such a sweet image.