Walking Down Memory Lane

NOn Monday (April 28- Happy Birthday Cynthia and Doda Inge), we spent the first part of the day on Massada Street.  This is where my father grew up and later where my aunt lived with her family (right across the street).  I stayed with my aunt and her family when I visited in 1971. I remember the climb up 3 flights of stairs - no elevator to get to the top. We also visited a book store that is in the same location where my Grandfather had his sheet metal shop.  As we walked along the street ,my parents reminisced about stores and names of people and businesses that they remembered.  They also shared some stories. When they were first dating, they were supposed to meet in front of one of the cafés.  My mom got there on time.....but my dad slept through.  She thought she was being stood up.....but here we are, so there was no need for her to worry.  It was a surreal experience for me.... knowing my grandparents had walked these same sidewalks. 

The pink building on the right - top floor was my grandparent's (and my dad of course) home. The building on left, with the round balconies is where my Aunt Inge lived with her family later on!

My grandfather's sheet metal shop which is now a book store

Walking down Memory Lane..... It all began here

There are several antique stores there now.  One is owned by a local artist and we left her with some of our Shekels!

The next thing we wanted to do was visit my grandmother's grave.  On our way there we stopped for lunch on the beach. What a view!  Each morning we wake up saying "we are going to cut back on carbs" but the bread here is amazing, so we keep eating!

The cemetery is across from the beach and between my dad and I, we were sure we remembered where to park and where her grave site was. We were WRONG!!!!! We entered a parking area and knew it was wrong.....we entered the next.....and knew it was not right. As we were exiting, a van pulled up out of "no where" and asked us where we were trying to go. He nodded his head and told us to follow him. It was clear he was orthodox and we thought he worked there. So, we followed him.  When we got there we realized he thought we were looking for the funeral that was about to take place. We finally were able to make him understand we were coming (from America) and wanted to visit my grandmother, my father's mother. He told us the parking had changed and in Hebrew gave us very detailed....long directions to get there. We asked if it would be a long walk?  He asked us if we knew her name.....Yes we did.....and the year.....Yes we knew. He made a phone call - within a few seconds he had the section, row and number!  He then had a caretaker hop in our car and we drove through the very very narrow paths through the cemetery  to where my grandmother is buried. While we were entering the gates, people were arriving for the funeral and right next to our car was a cart/gurney, similar to what paramedics use.  It was just sitting there....WITH A BODY ON IT draped in a black sheet!!!!! COMPLETELY UNATTENDED!!!!!  So we accomplished what we wanted and had it not been for the very kind orthodox Rabbi, we may not have found it!!!

The very narrow path we drove

My beloved grandmother, Emma Gottfeld