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Today’s letter from Helene in Vienna to her children in San Francisco continues the story from September 6, 20, and 21 which describes their straitened circumstances and their surprise and happiness at the windfall from San Francisco.

Vienna, 24 September 1940

My most beloved children! Yesterday I got the money sent from Berlin which I thank you for once again. You can hardly imagine how quickly the letter came, which was proof that the largest part of our subsistence comes from you and relatives, which, with the receipt and proceeds of the remaining stock in our business and the sale of dispensable items in our apartment, all helped us to pay for our living costs – all the easier for us now because we have sublet half of our apartment. We have also figured out a way to cook together and that will cost less as far as heating goes and this will have more of an impact as the weather gets colder in the winter months. That’s about all there is to say about what we are doing here.

In general, quite a bit has changed and, in 10 days, it will be a year since we caressed that train that took you away to a new life. It is odd how it seems to me - it seems as if it was yesterday and 14 days ago, when we had not even had a sign of life from Harry, I believed I hadn’t seen you for an eternity. I can certainly understand that Harry is homesick for Vienna but he would feel as we do like a survivor of the sunken continent of Atlantis. There are hardly any friends left in Vienna. The city of songs has become the city of wandering children’s prams and caryatid columns: all that’s old falls and new life blossoms out of the ruins. Speaking of ruins, in our living room it still looks like there was a battle here. The slats of the floor are stacked up all over the place and we’re waiting for the contractor to have time to finish the work. We are getting used to our acrobatic lifestyle, but at night when it’s dark, my sleepy eyes can hardly understand what this monster is doing because that’s how the furniture that is piled up in the corners of our living room seems to me. Since my bed is against the other wall in the other room, I pretty soon realized that I had bumped my head and then my thoughts straightened themselves out again. Papa is working on the interior design as it were, to make modern furniture from fruit boxes. I wanted to get some fresh air into my lungs yesterday and I picked up your dad and went out shopping with him and I just kept in the background passively. First, we went to Knoll’s store. You would not believe what you would see there, how well Papa does with the shopping when he uses his meat coupons in the best possible way. For example, you get the full weight of liver if you buy that because they don’t charge extra. You get more if you eat innards and if you eat head and feet, you even get four times as much. When he had made his choice and he was looking over the bill, he asked “which is the foot and what is Blunzen [blood sausage]?” The butcher was trying to keep a straight face and he explained: “well typhus is a disease and blunzen is too.” The other people were laughing. Papa got back at him by asking Mr. Knoll “and where do you have the dogs? I want one.” Everyone looked quite confused, like “what did you say?” He pointed to the poster on the wall, where normally you’d have calves and lambs hanging, which said “bringing dogs into the store is forbidden by the police.” Apart from Papa, no one objected to this particular German formulation. We kept going with our shopping. Mrs. Heindl’s store was the next place we stopped and he asked “Do you already have Gock-gock-gock-gack?” and she said [in Viennese dialect] “they just got here so you’re always the first one to get the fresh eggs.” Pech. Let’s go to Crete. “Give me an Omega.”
Pech: “Do you want a big Omega?”*
Papa: “Omegas are always big. I want a Delta** and a Parallelaped.***”

[footnotes at bottom of page: *peasant bread, **Emmantaler cheese with no rind, ***1/8kg of butter]

Our bargain and the Greek lesson for the grocer were over and we are going home with our geometrical food for supper.

I have been in such a hurry to finish this and now Papa has just gone off without taking the letter with him. Before I get dressed, it’s already too late, she letter will have to wait until Friday. That’s okay. Maybe I will have more to tell you by then and I don’t have to just build castles in the air. I am really looking forward to getting your next letter which will tell us about what you’re doing at school.

I am addressing the letters to Harry even though Everl gave us her new address, since I assume that Harry can put the letters in order more easily than Everl. If I’m wrong in this assumption, I will then just go back to the old way of doing things.

Friday, 27 Sept. 1940

My dear ones! Papa was right about waiting to post the letter until today, because I can tell you with great joy that I received your letter #2 from the 8th of this month. I am excited about the Nursing-School. It really seems to be an educational institution comme il faut. Just the right kind of place. Maybe when you get a chance you can tell me which of your clothes were so distasteful to Aunt Tillie and meant that you had to go shopping for some new ones. Harry’s schedule, except for Chemistry and Literature, is the same, only the Australian girlfriend is new. Bravo Harry! There is nothing like starting young. It was like a feast for me to see Paul’s handwriting again. The different meanings of “auditorium” and “audience” are now clear to me from Eva’s Graduation Number – i.e., the dictionary gave me some insight into this ambiguity. I read with schadenfreude that Paul had no success in getting an audience - serves him right since he hasn’t written to me in so long. And I don’t even get anything for his promises at the Dorotheum [auction house in Vienna]. I am also be interested in knowing how many virtuosos have already come out of his school.

Nothing much has changed here. From the balcony and windows to about halfway into the room, we are waiting for the floor contractor to show up; however, he cannot be reached. I explained to the architect today that I would use the basin to put goldfish in (not silverfish). He did not seem very happy with my intention to put an aquarium in there because the ceiling supporting beams seem to have a problem because of the unfortunate positioning of the balcony. When it rains hard, the water flows down.

I’m already looking forward to #3 and the day after tomorrow I will continue. Papa will have no excuse about not waiting for the end of the letter. I feel unusually well because I am getting regular letters again and I am not worried about Everl’s health anymore because she is seeing a doctor regularly. Harry should not be careless when he’s playing football. He shouldn’t overdo it and get all overheated and then have to drink tons of cold water. Paul could have done his cure more easily here. He really didn’t have to go across the big pond for that.

I am kissing all of you one after the other and I remain your
Helene

Helene’s mood is light because letters are arriving regularly from her children. Nothing can bring her down – not their poverty, their involuntary downsizing and sharing their apartment with strangers, the unreliable contractors (apparently a problem that has been going on all over the world forever), or the meager rations of food and distasteful cuts of meat. She makes light of all of it, making us laugh instead of cry at their situation. They don’t just laugh at the situation in the letters – they make light of the circumstances as they search for the meager provisions that are available at the markets.

I can identify with Helene’s joy at seeing her nephew Paul’s handwriting for the first time in ages – I had the same feeling when I saw my (then 18-year old) mother’s letters for the first time.

In 1940, Paul began giving piano lessons to earn money. He was unable to continue his profession as a lawyer in the United States, probably primarily because his lack of language proficiency — unlike his young cousins, he was in his 40s and not able to become fluent in English. In the February 25, 1940 issue of the San Francisco Examiner, I found a amall announcement in the arts section:

New Piano Studio
Formerly of Vienna and Prague, Paul Zerzawy has opened at the Heine Piano Company, 279 O’Farrell Street, a piano studio for instruction, for coaching in ensemble and for accompaniment.”