A Night at the Movies

Here's a memory of a family gathering that may sound familiar to you: Years ago at a family reunion, my husband's aunts and uncles shared the story of their family coming to America from Russia. My husband's mother, Bobbi, was no longer alive to tell her story of the journey, so we relied on her sisters and her brother to share their accounts of their trip across the ocean by boat. One sister said that Bobbi danced and played the whole way to America and had a grand old time. Another said she was vomiting the entire way, her mother by her side, holding a damp wash cloth on her forehead. Each teller of the tale was confident that his or her story revealed the truth.

Sarah Polley's documentary, "Stories We Tell," illuminates the role of memory and how memory shifts over time and how we may discover truths through the telling of story. Polley interviews a circle of family and friends in order to learn more about her mother, Diane, who passed away when Polley was eleven years old. The "Storytellers" (the term Polley uses to refer to her father, sisters, brothers, and other friends and colleagues of her mother) reveal different vantage points. Early on in the film, one of the Storytellers describes the idea of being in the middle of a story vs. looking back and remembering what took place. He tells us that the story really takes shape after it has occurred. He says, "It becomes a story when we tell it to someone else."

On a cold November evening, our oral history group gathered to view Polley's film. We weren't exactly sure how or if the film would have a direct connection to our work, but we thought that the film might offer a lens into the oral history process, in particular how to communicate the essence of our project and how to develop plans for training future interviewers.

After viewing, we reflected on what we thought the film was really about.  On the surface it was a story about a young woman looking to learn more about her mother. We talked about a comment Polley makes in the film: "It's really about memory and the way we have stories about our lives...but the truth is ephemeral." We talked about the idea that people come to life through story. We agreed that whenever there are multiple storytellers, there are bound to be discrepancies in the stories. We talked about an essential question that simmers below the surface, throughout the film: "Can one get at the truth?"

We agreed that memory is unreliable, and yet in the stories, certain essential, if not literal, truths are discovered. It is through the stories that we come to understand the person telling the story and the individual's "truth" of his or her experience in the world. We noticed how the film highlights this idea. This observation led us back to our own interviewees, and we remembered how moments of discovery surfaced at certain points during our interviews. The discoveries were made in the midst of recalling experience through story. We remembered Gerry Albarelli's suggestion for guiding our interviewees to dig deeper. Gerry's words became like a mantra for us: "When you want the interviewee to elaborate, say, 'tell me a story about that.'"

For more info on Polley's film:
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/05/10/movies/stories-we-tell-written-and-directed-by-sarah-polley.html?_r=0
               
               ~ E. Brooks

Stories We Tell: Al Lurie

Al Lurie was part of our first group of interviewees. Al was born in April 16^th, 1923 in Brooklyn, New York. He grew up in the 1930s on the Upper West Side of Manhattan amidst some of the legendary NYC Rabbis of the time including Mordechai Kaplan, Stephen S.Wise and Desola Poole.

Al moved to Larchmont with his family in 1956, and he remains a Larchmont resident and an active Larchmont Temple member. Al finds Saturday morning Chevra Torah study at the temple to be an irresistible addiction.

Here are some excerpts from Al's oral history:

Al Lurie

Al remembers the first time he met his wife:

She was a writer, she was on the Cornell Sun, it was called. So was I. In fact the first time I ever saw her was when she brought the women’s page down to the publishing facility that the Cornell Sun used downtown. She walked in, beautiful girl, almond eyes, white skin. I was the night edit. She walked in with the woman’s page and I asked my assistant,  “Who was that?” And he told me Marion Weinberg. “How come I’ve never seen her?” So it all started right there.

Actually, I must say she was very popular among the independent groups. Telluride they had up there at school.  She was going with several people, one of whom was already in his military uniform. It wasn’t love at first sight, I had to win her. She was already involved, not heavily, but she wasn’t waiting for me to come along. One of the guys was wearing a uniform at that time on campus. I remember there was a New Yorker cartoon that shows this nerdy guy going up to the Abercrombie and Fitch salesman that said, “I need something to compete with the uniform.” That cartoon is my life at this point.

Girls then, had to be back in their dorms at 10 o’clock at night.  It was a whole different world.  There weren’t co-ed dorms. But she had a pass, so we had a hamburger at the diner on the way up at three in the morning.  We drove up the hill and I brought her up to her dorm.

We had a great marriage that lasted 62 years.

       When Karen first decided to interview Al Lurie, I was eager to share my connection. “Al is my neighbor, “ I said. “He lives just a few houses down from us, and when I think of Al, I picture him walking with his wife.” Al’s wife passed away several years ago. I didn’t know her well, except to say hello when we passed each other in the neighborhood. Al and Marion lived on our street when we moved in—almost twenty years ago. I remember how they walked side-by-side, sometimes holding hands, always close together. I imagined their conversations—talk about work, home, children, the changing leaves of autumn. I noticed the way they looked at each other—with adoring eyes. As the years passed, their pace slowed, but it seemed that they almost never missed a day of walking.

            One night, Karen brought excerpts from her first interview. She read Al’s story about meeting Marion for the first time, and once again, I could see them walking. Al’s oral history offers details of a story that was already somewhat familiar to me—the story of strong union, already visible through their daily walks. It was the day-after-day routine that communicated the importance of this time together. Listening to Karen read this excerpt and returning to it now, I am struck with this glimpse of the soft side of Al and his love for Marion.

          ~ Karen Zimmerman (interviewer) and Ellen Brooks (reflections)

Stories We Tell: Excerpts from the Larchmont Temple Oral History Collection

Introducing the Larchmont Temple Oral History Project

Late September 2013

Just over one year ago, Rabbi Nathan brought a group of temple members together to plan temple-wide education programs for the year ahead. That evening, we met in small groups and brainstormed many ideas—the more we talked, the more we were drawn to the idea of collecting oral histories from temple members.  We envisioned starting small—collecting a handful of oral histories the first year, and gradually adding to the collection each year. We believed that this work would deepen our connections with each other and with our temple community as a whole. We believed in the power of stories, and we concluded that the rich histories that converge at Larchmont Temple should be preserved. We were intrigued by the idea and excited to work together.

We embarked on this project as novices—coming together to learn about the oral history process and to record the oral histories—or spoken autobiographies—of some of our temple members who grew up in the 20’s, 30’s and 40’s. We met with GerryAlbarelli, Professor at Sarah Lawrence College and Columbia, to learn about oral history research and the interviewing process. Gerry has been our guiding light through this journey.

It soon became clear that these stories were headed toward a common point of convergence. One story leads—and is connected in unexpected ways—to the next, creating a complex and beautiful structure that reminds us of the breadth and universality of experience—in this case, the American Jewish journey. These stories begin elsewhere, moving around in time and space, from the early part of the twentieth century to the present, from as far away as German and Russia to as near as the Bronx.

Our original intent was to share these oral histories through the creation of a website with photographs and excerpts from the transcriptions. This process has been deeply compelling and moving for each of us. We met regularly to share our work—listening to excerpts, reflecting on our experience with the project, and checking in with Gerry for guidance at various points along the way. Our own enthusiasm for the project continued to grow, and our appreciation for each interviewee continued to deepen and give us a renewed vision about the work we were doing and the importance of sharing our discovered treasure with the larger temple community. On May 9, 2013, we performed a dramatic reading of excerpts from our collection—our first attempt to share a sampling of our work. We hope you will visit our temple website to view the video recording of this reading. 

We invite you to enjoy this glimpse into the personal testimonies of our Larchmont Temple members and the ways that their stories intersect with one another and resonate with your own.

We want to thank each of our interviewees for sharing their time and their stories. This website will provide a place for sharing excerpts from these and future stories from temple community. 

We also want to thank Gerry Albarelli for sharing his expertise and influencing our understanding of oral history in powerful and lasting ways. Gerry's guidance, through the early stages of the process and continuing throughout our work, has been invaluable. His enthusiasm for the work inspires us all. 

~ Gabi Baigel, Laurie Braun, Ellen Brooks, Barbara Lewis Kaplan, Jayne Lipman, Lori Rotskoff,  Jill Sarkozi, and Karen Zimmerman with Jerald Albarelli