A Kid's Best Ally

Jory was a first generation Mexican American, born into a culturally rich family.  He had one set of paternal great grandparents, Zeide Jacob and Bubbe Rebeca, who were Russian immigrants that came to Mexico in 1928, leaving behind endless pogroms, oppression and civil instability.  They brought along their children:  Bertha, age 7, and Boris, age 5.  Jory’s paternal grandfather, Sergio , was born and raised in Poland, studied medicine in France, and fled the Holocaust, immigrating to Mexico in 1939.  Grandpa Sergio and Grandma Bertha met and married in Mexico City in 1944 and Jory’s father, Samuel, was born there in 1945.  So, Jory’s father grew up with a mix of Mexican, Jewish, Polish and Russian cultures, speaking Spanish and Yiddish, singing boleros and mariachi music, and eating spicy tacos and gefilte fish.  Prompted by his determination to go to college in the US, the entire family legally immigrated with Jory’s Dad to the US in 1962, and settled in Los Angeles, bringing along their spicy Mexican culture, flavored with Jewish European traditions.

Sergio, Samuel, Bertha

Sergio, Bertha, Jacob, Rebeca, Boris in Mexico

Mollie

Morris in the Denver Orphanage

On his maternal side, Jory also had Great Grandma Mollie, who was born in Jerusalem and raised in a girls orphanage, where girls were not educated, nor taught to read.  As a young teenager, she was married off in an arranged marriage, and immediately shipped to America, immigrating through Ellis Island in 1920.  Grandpa Morris was born in New York in 1921.  His irresponsible father abandoned his wife and son, leaving Great Grandma Mollie with a baby, without a means of support, and little knowledge of the English language.  She later contracted tuberculosis, and was subsequently relocated to a hospital in Colorado.  Her son, Grandpa Morris, was placed in an orphanage in New York until she could reclaim him.  She slowly recovered and brought Grandpa Morris to Denver when he was 5 years old.  Still not able to support herself and her child, she placed him at another orphanage for children whose parents were stricken with TB.  Abiding by the regulations, she visited Morris at the orphanage every other Sunday.  He remained there until high school, when Great Grandma Mollie remarried and took him to live with her and her new husband Bill in small towns high in the Rocky Mountains.

Grandpa Morris was a highly motivated student, who struggled to put himself through college and earned several degrees in Chemistry.  When the family relocated back to Denver, Grandma Mollie lived next door to poor Polish immigrants, Saul and Anna, who had a beautiful daughter.  They were grateful to be in America and were especially proud that their sweet Edna was a first generation American, encouraging her to speak English and get an education.  Grandpa Morris fell in love with this girl next door.  In 1944, he married Grandma Edna and the following year, Jory’s mom, Leslye, was born.  Jory’s mother’s family came to America as peasants, experienced with lifetimes of oppression.   Clinging to their Jewish roots and traditions, they voluntarily dissolved their insular cultures, assimilating into the American Dream of providing for their children what they were denied.  

Leslye

Anna and Saul with children Blanche, Dorothy, & Sam

Morris and Edna

Sam and Leslye

That’s the short version of how Jory was born into an “I Love Lucy” kind of family.  Sam, his Dad, is a left brained physicist and mathematician, who likes organization and planning ahead; but, he is also culturally Hispanic, singing Mexican Ranchera music from the top of his lungs, devouring tortillas, and driving California freeways like Pancho Villa.  As his Mom, I am a second generation, patriotic American, who is a right brained, touchy-feely educator and artist.  I thrive in the relaxed California culture that allows me to be spontaneous, creative, and impulsive, with residual hippie tendencies.  We decided to infuse our children with a love and appreciation of our rich Mexican-American-Jewish cultures.

Student Heritage Day featured Jory in the newspaper

Top:  Grandma Bertha,  Grandpa Sergio, Aunt Miriam, Sam, Leslye,
 Bottom:  Bubbe Rebeca, Zeide Jacob, Grandma Edna, Grandpa Morris

Both Sam and I agreed that family came first and grandparents were essential to a kid’s development.  All holidays were celebrated with grandparents, especially Jewish holidays that tended to be observed over two days and nights.  On the first night, the kids were scrubbed and dressed nicely, buckled into the car, and driven down several freeways to cram into Zeide and Bubbe’s small Los Angeles apartment or Grandma Bertha and Grandpa Sergio’s West Los Angeles house.  There they joined with aunts, uncles, and cousins around the dining table to usher in the holiday.  The aroma of chicken soup with kreplach filled the air and animated Spanish reverberated off the walls.  I had to learn Spanish to be able to integrate as the only Gringa in the family.  Often the evening ended with the men playing gin rummy, the women cleaning up the kitchen, and the kids running around until they collapsed on the couch.  Sometimes Grandma Edna and Grandpa Morris came, too; then, English was introduced into the conversations. 

Chicken Soup with Kreplach

Chicken Soup with Matzah Balls

The second nights of holidays were easier because Grandma Edna and Grandpa Morris lived just a few miles away.  Relatives on that side of the family were mostly in Denver, so it was just our small nuclear family.  Again the aroma of chicken soup with matzah balls met us at the door, a jigsaw puzzle was set up on the card table in the living room, everyone spoke English, and dinner ended with Grandma asking Grandpa to play Scott Joplin music on the stereo so we could all tap dance on the terrazzo flooring between the living room and dining room.  On Thanksgiving, the Mexican side of the family united with the Americans for the traditional family turkey dinner, which included going around the table so that every person could share their gratitude and gobble like a turkey, a tradition from Grandpa Morris that continues today.

Grandma Bertha and Grandpa Sergio were old school, passing their values onto their children and grandchildren.  When family and friends entered or departed their home, everyone was expected to be at the door with a welcoming smile, accompanied by a hug and kiss.

Top:  Grandma Bertha, Aunt Molly, Grandpa Sergio, 
Jory, & Sam--Bottom:  Darren, David, Eric,

“Come with me,” encouraged Grandma Bertha, grasping a small, plump hand.  “Uncle Boris and his family are here and we’ll meet them at the door.  You can tell them ‘Hi’ and give each one a hug and kiss.”  

“When someone speaks to you,” explained Grandpa Sergio, “you must always look at their eyes and answer.  If someone gives you a special treat or gift, you need to say ‘thank you’ and give them a hug.”

Baron

 
 One big attraction at Grandpa Sergio’s house was Baron, the Short-Haired German Pointer that was roaming freely in the neighborhood and became Grandpa’s dog.  Jory loved animals and Baron was an easy equal in energy level.  Grandpa Sergio, Jory, and Baron would take Baron on long walks around the block, but it wasn’t clear who was walking whom.  The usual scenario was that Jory would grip the leash with both hands and Baron would drag him around the block with Grandpa Sergio in tow.  Grandma Bertha was not enamored with Baron, but she adored Jory, who was a mini replica of his Daddy.  She loved reliving Sam’s childhood through Jory.

No, I will not fix your computer . . . but he did.

Family, respect for others, and generosity were instilled as high priorities, as well as sharing whatever one knew or had.  Jory learned and embraced these values and truly lived them on a daily basis throughout his life.  He met thousands of strangers and made them friends by smiling broadly and simply saying, “Hi, I’m Jory.”  Within minutes, the new acquaintance knew that he was respected and valued as a dear friend.  As the conversation continued, “I can help you with that,” often followed, with Jory pulling out his iPad or MacBook laptop to share tips or techniques.  Of course, he could have been wearing one of his favorite t-shirts that boasted “No, I will not fix your computer,” but I believe that happily, he always fixed computers for everyone who asked.  Those old school values served him well and he was rich in friendships and colleagues. 

Soda Pop Champagne

Grandma Bertha passed away when Jory was 8 years old and Grandpa Sergio remarried Tía Halina 18 months later.  It was the first wedding that Jory had ever attended.  The only kids in attendance were his brothers and cousins.  Always hungry and thirsty, it was hard for the kids to wait for the meal to be served.  Jory found a tray of fancy glasses filled with bubbly “soda pop” and generously helped his self to several glasses of champagne.  When Jory was noticed, he was lying on the floor moaning and groaning that the room was swirling around him.  Uncle Boris came to his aid with a hard candy to suck on.  After some apple juice and several dinner rolls, Jory could finally sit up.  It was the first and last time that Jory drank liquor.  From that time on, whenever anyone offered Jory an alcoholic drink, he replied that he had already had 4.  He’d explain that 4 in his lifetime was enough!

Grandpa Morris with Shanon, Jory, & Chili

 On a weekly basis, Sam and I spoke to our parents over the phone and the children were excited for their turns to tell their grandparents about their activities and accomplishments.  As soon as they learned to dial the numbers, they would call their grandparents on their own.  

“Grandma, do you know what your daughter did to me today?” big brother Darren would complain to Grandma Edna.  “She took away my favorite toy!”  Of course, he didn’t say that he hadn’t put it away after being told a dozen or more times.  Grandma would always console him before explaining that he wasn’t being reasonable and next time could avoid that situation by doing what he was asked to do.
  

Jory & Grandpa Morris in Grandma Edna's Wigs

Jory would call and ask if he could sleep over.  He loved having his grandparents to himself.  Grandma Edna or Grandpa Morris would make him salami and eggs whenever requested.  They had an incredible stereo with dozens of vinyl records in the living room cabinet that he could play.  Grandpa always had a crossword puzzle from the newspaper that they worked on together and Grandma was always eager to take him shopping for some little toy or book.  

Jory's Finger Mustache

 When Jory was 9, Sam was hospitalized at UCLA for extensive melanoma surgery.  It was the same hospital that Grandma Bertha had been in, and ironically, even the same room.  I brought the boys to visit Dad and his doctor was there.  

Sam with Mustache

“You look just like your father, but without the mustache,” remarked the doctor to Jory, while ruffling his curls.  Jory always responded to that redundant comment by putting his finger horizontally above his upper lip to replicate his Dad’s mustache.  “You also have his light skin.  You have to be careful so that you don’t get melanoma, too.”

Jory put 1+1 together and got 3.  He was convinced that he also had melanoma and would have to have the same surgery as his Dad.  When Sam came home with 6 drainage tubes, Jory became even more worried.  Summer vacation was approaching and Sam’s lengthy recovery would be omnipresent to the boys, and especially to Jory.  

Grandma Edna suggested that Jory would be better off away from home and offered to send him to summer camp.  It was very late to register, so he was put on a waiting list.  A couple of days before camp started, a vacancy popped up and Jory eagerly went away to Camp Ramah for a month.  He loved it and forgot that he was a candidate for melanoma.  Ironically, Jory did have a pre-malignant melanoma removed when he was 15.  

Jory with Grandma Edna

Grandma Edna’s insight and intervention made a hug difference in Jory’s life.  From that summer on, he went to camp.  He switched to Camp Young Judaea a couple of years later and took younger brother Shanon with him as soon as Shanon turned 8.  At 17, Jory became the song leader at CYJ and built a number of lifetime friendships from camp.  Amazingly, when word got out that Jory was hospitalized after his motorcycle accident, current parents from CYJ, whom had never met him, reached out to us with offers of support and assistance.  Jory’s reputation had followed him.


Family vacations often included the grandparents.  We bought a Chevy Astrovan with 3 rows of seats, the family piled in, and off we went to explore Durango,Colorado.  Jory loved trains, so we rode the narrow gauge railway to Silverton.  Grandpa Morris was an expert fly fisherman who shared his expertise with his grandsons as they waded hip deep into the Animas River.  Grandma Edna fried the trout and games of Rummy Cube followed dinner.  On the long car ride home, we stopped to explore the cliff dwellings in Mesa Verde National Park.  All 3 of the boys had learned in 3rd grade about the Native Americans who built them and stunned the Park Rangers, and their Grandparents, with their knowledge.

Durango Silverton Narrow Gauge Railway

This morning's catch, tonight's dinner.

Listening to the Ranger at Mesa Verde National Park

Years later, when Darren was a Cadet at the US Air Force Academy, the entire family, including both sets of Grandparents, traveled to Colorado Springs for Parents Weekend.  We toured the Academy campus and watched the Cadets parade at the football stadium.  On Darren’s day of leave, we all squeezed into a rented van and drove to see the Royal Gorge.  We crossed the 1260 foot suspension bridge, the highest in the US, and rode the incline Railway 955 feet down to the turbulent Arkansas River.   Before returning Darren to the Academy, we enjoyed dinner together in Pueblo, Colorado, our first time visiting Grandma Edna’s birthplace.

Grandpa Sergio, Tia Halina, Darren, Jory, Shanon, Leslye, Uncle Steve, Grandma Edna, Grandpa Morris

Grandpa Morris with Great Grandson Dillon on right in 2nd Grade.

Grandpa Morris with his textbook

Jory and his brothers each studied chemistry in high school.  It wasn’t an easy class, but they had a secret weapon:  Grandpa Morris!  He had a PhD in chemistry and had written a successful and definitive textbook, Foundations for College Chemistry.  For an entire year, he came once or twice a week to tutor each grandson.  Jory even arranged for him to come to Troy High School to guest lecture for his “Chem” class and decades later, great grandson Dillon followed suit in his second grade classroom.  For each boy, it was a special bonding opportunity that strengthened the ties across generations. 


Jory’s grades in Chemistry were passable, but not extraordinary.  He was a right brained musician.  Math and science were interesting, but didn’t inspire him to study hard.  Although he always learned the material and could pass the tests with high scores, he seldom turned in homework, which made good grades a rarity.  We took Jory to a career counselor to help us set some goals for college and were advised to keep in mind his creativity and personality.  For the remaining year of high school, we enrolled him in behavioral science classes like psychology instead of physical science courses like physics.  We also enrolled him at Fullerton College in a music theory class instead of the high school band class.  Jory began to flourish and his grades soared to straight A’s for the first time in his life.

Jory and Grandpa Morris

Grandpa Morris called Sam and I after Jory gave him the good news about his latest report card.  “Now is the time to reward Jory for all his hard work and excellent grades.  You should buy him a car.”

We were stunned!  We still hadn’t come to believe that Jory had really gotten straight A’s, which meant that he had also turned in homework, but now we were being advised to buy him a car.  Grandpa Morris had never bought any of us a car and it was quite a surprise that he was now advocating such a monumental reward for Jory.  Besides, we had never rewarded our kids for grades before, but somehow this seemed different.  Jory had been driving a well worn, hand-me-down Mazda pickup truck that was falling apart.  We evaluated Grandpa Morris’ advice and decided that he had more experience raising teenagers than we did, and that we could and should learn from his experience.  It was one of the best decisions that we ever made as parents, as Jory exceeded all our hopes and expectations by excelling in the rest of high school and college.  We bought Jory a brand new Mazda sedan, which he drove until he graduated from CalArts.

Grandma Edna and Jory

Grandma Edna was beautiful inside and out, well groomed, always considerate of others, and never spoke a foul word.  Her house was the “go to place” for her 3 grandsons, so Jory’s first trip was to drive his new car to her house.  During his last year of high school, his classes finished early, allowing him to drive directly to Grandma Edna’s house for lunch everyday.  He told her about the songs he was writing and his applications to colleges.  She made sure he knew that she was especially proud of him in whatever he did.  She didn’t approve of the 4 letter words that had crept into Jory’s vocabulary, and he knew that, too. 

After she passed away, Jory wrote, “In Southern California there is a restaurant chain called Fuddrucker's.  We used to drive past them all the time.  One time, I said to my Grandma, 'Look! There's a Rudd-ucker's!
And she replied, ‘Yeah, there's a Ruddfucker's!’


Then, realizing what I'd just gotten her to say, she was actually a bit angry because she NEVER spoke that way and was embarrassed about it.  Every time we drove past a Fuddrucker's again, I'd say ‘Look, Grandma! There's a Rudd-ucker's!’ and she'd raise her voice and exclaim, ‘I'm not saying it!!!’"

Having a close relationship with their grandparents was an extra special bonus for our kids and for us.  They were allies to the grandchildren, who generously infused steady doses of respect, generosity, unconditional love, self-esteem, self-confidence, and wisdom into their precious grandkids.  We learned that when parents are at their wits end, grandparents are uniquely equipped to offer them extra layers of experience and advice.  Grandparents also provided a separate safe harbor to vent frustrations for both the parents and the grandkids.  It’s was partnership where everybody had a common goal and everybody was a winner.

Top: Jory, Darren, Shanon
Bottom:  Amber, Grandma Edna, Grandpa Morris, Dillon

COMMENTS:  

Click on Jorysmother@gmail.com to send comments.

Jory Prum   

January 2003

Family is very important to me. I feel obligated to be there for them whenever they require me.

I love word games and NYT crossword puzzles. I enjoy any game that requires a bit of thinking. I like to exercise my brain a lot.

  

January 29, 2009

My dad was born and raised in Mexico City. His family moved to Los Angeles when he was 15 so he could attend UCLA. Needless to say, his entire side of the family speaks Spanish, but I don't. I understand bits here and there, but wish I was fluent.

In 8th grade, Kris, the kid sitting next to me was fresh off the boat from Poland. Naturally, I convinced him to teach me all the dirty words in Polish, which I verified, of course, with my grandfather (Sergio)! The only one he got somewhat wrong was kurva, which means "prostitute", not "bitch".  My grandfather was rather amused by the whole thing. Kris credited me with teaching him all the dirty words in English. Yes, I've always been a good influence!

My Grandpa Morris has written college chemistry textbooks since the 1960's. He wrote the very first fundamentals book for college chemistry ever written when J. Wiley asked him to do so. They ended up changing their mind and didn't buy the book, but another publisher came along wanting the same thing a couple years later. The royalties from that book paid for my parents' wedding!

I have only been drunk once in my life. I was 11 and my grandpa Sergio was marrying his childhood sweetheart. The wedding party was definitely not designed with kids in mind, as it was boring and the only food and drink were salmon and champagne. I don't like fish, so I really hadn't eaten anything. I had 1 1/2 small cups of champagne and became very sleepy. I remember my mom getting me a can of apple juice from a vending machine and I then went to sleep on a sofa for much of the remainder of the party.

Feb 1, 2009

I have an enormous family. They are in many places, including SoCal, Denver, Mexico, New York, Australia, and Israel. I don't believe I have any family remaining in Poland or Russia. I was not aware of how many family members were lost in the Holocaust until I started researching a few years ago. I'm very eager to learn as much as I can and to visit the places were my family comes from. I also wonder if my ancestors would be disappointed by my lack of religious interest. I like to think that the Jewish culture I embrace would be enough for them, even if I'm not a practicing Jew.

February 7, 2009

On December 31, I received a call that my grandma (Edna), who was diagnosed with terminal cancer in June, had died around 10:30am. She was 83. It was not exactly a surprise, but I will certainly miss her. I'm incredibly fortunate to have had her around for so long, as my other grandma (Bertha) died when I was 8 and I really have very limited memories of her.

Grandma Edna, on the other hand, I knew well. My senior year of high school saw me finishing classes at 12:30 and driving over to my grandparents' house for lunch nearly every day.

Grandma Edna was an amazing lady. And truly a lady. She wouldn't even walk outside to check the mail without being properly dressed and with make-up in place. As a kid, she allowed my brothers and me to have just about anything we wanted. She would make us salami & eggs for breakfast, even if it was dinner-time. She would buy us Hostess Ding-Dongs and Fruity Pebbles. She let us build forts from all the cushions and pillows of her sofa. And she made the most amazing plum crunch!

When I was in high school, my family went on a road trip somewhere. I remember stopping at a truck stop for snacks and a rest, and I went inside and looked through the cassettes they had on the counter. I found one I wanted and asked my grandma if she'd buy it for me. She said, "If that's what you want, sure." She didn't flinch for a moment that it was a thrash metal band called "Testament".

One thing I feel with all of this, is that Grandma Edna gave me a tremendous parting gift, in that she didn't allow the bad stuff of 2008 to continue into 2009.  Thank you for everything, Grandma!

Nancy Quinn
I loved all the other entries, but this one really did it for me. You managed to tell the whole history of the family with so much love, kindness and fun as seen through the eyes of your beautiful son. Also, it's a life lesson for our kids as to the importance of letting grandparents into the life of their kids.

 Judy Sowell
 This was a beautiful story.  I enjoyed seeing a picture of  your mother.  She was as beautiful as he said she was.  Keep on writing....

Pamela Boscoe
Loved reading the story of how your family came to be--especially in Denver.  I love reading your stories, thank you for sharing them. 

Connie Di Gerolamo
 Thanks for sharing this delightful story of your family.

James Moidel
 Thank you for another sweet, funny, uplifting story about Jory. He was so special…present, alive, involved. He put so much living, joy, and experience  into his short life.

Joan Filowitz

 I enjoyed reading your family story! 😀

Rayleen Williams
 ALWAYS inspirational .  Thank you.

Linda Birtler
Love the pictures.

Karen Newland
Loved it.  It was a nice read

Molly Presser
I loved all the other entries, but this one really did it for me. You managed to tell the whole history of the family with so much love, kindness and fun as seen through the eyes of your beautiful son. (Also a life lesson for our kids as to the importance of letting grandparents into the life of their kids😷).Thanks for writing it.

 Suzie Kwan

Great family history.  Read the whole story in one seating, loving it !!

Michael Rogers

Thank you for these latest stories. I loved reading about your  parents and grandparents, the family histories, and Jory's relationship to his grandparents.

Susan McLaren
I enjoyed learning more about your very talented son, Jory.  He was obviously extremely creative and intelligent, a celebrity in his field, and much -loved by many. 

Ruth Siegrist
 You are remarkable people with remarkable ancestors!  I read your latest story and browsed through your family history, but want to go back and digest it more thoroughly.

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