CLARE
It was about this time when I met the woman who was to become my wife.
Clare Goorvitch and her sister Betty had been evacuated from London in October 1940. Clare was a machinist in a dress factory in the East End of London. The factory was in a part of the East End called the Minories and was destroyed during an air raid. As the owner of the business had contacts in Manchester where he sold much of the production of the factory, he felt it would be wise to move the business to Manchester, away from the raids on London. So he found premises near the centre of Manchester and asked some of his workers if they would move with him. He offered them accommodation in a house in Cheetham with a housekeeper to look after them.
The employer, David Alexander, approached Clare's father to ask if he would agree that Clare went to Manchester, he agreed on the condition that her sister Betty be included although she did not work for Mr Alexander. Mr Goorvitch was anxious that as many of his five daughters as possible should escape from the dangers of life in London at that time. It is easy to understand how he felt when Clare tells the story of one particular night during the constant bombing that the people of London endured.
Near where they lived there was a block of flats that had an underground shelter equipped with bunk-beds. Consequently it was looked on as the place to shelter from the air-raids as you could get a night's sleep. On the night in question Clare and members of the family queued to get into this shelter but were turned away as it was full. During the night that block of flats suffered a direct hit from a bomb and was completely destroyed, the only survivors were a baby and a young boy. The rest of the occupants died and the shelter was sealed.
So Clare and her sister Betty arrived in Manchester after a nightmare journey from London on a train that took ten hours to do a journey that nowadays takes two and a half hours. Her employer, David Alexander, had acquired a house in Shirley Road, just off Cheetham Hill Road by the side of the Northern Hospital. This house became home for seven people, six of them had come north to work for Mr Alexander in his factory, the seventh was the mother of one of the machinists and was employed as the housekeeper.
The Free Trade Hall in Peter Street Manchester, was the venue for many political meetings during and after the war. On the night I met Clare and her sister Betty I had been to a meeting in the Free Trade Hall and had seen these two beautiful young women at the meeting whom I had never seen before. So, I was determined to find out who they were. Travelling up Cheetham Hill Road on the bus going home I saw them walking up the road with two members of the Young Communist League that I knew. I jumped off the bus and joined them. We soon got talking and one thing led to another and before long we had reached the house in Shirley Road where they were living.
I must admit that I was first attracted to Betty, she was small and petite, about 16 years old and very vivacious whereas Clare was quiet, more subdued, tall, and slender, with a beautiful figure, but said very little.
The outcome was that I asked Betty out on a date and she turned me down. Nonplussed, I turned to Clare and we hit it off from the start. I invited her to go to the cinema with me and she accepted. The film was The Grapes of Wrath showing at a small local cinema just round the corner on Cheetham Hill Road, just a few hundred yards from the house occupied by the workers who had come from London with Clare.
The group at the house consisted of Clare and Betty, Minnie Spivack, (cutter and designer) her brother Issy, Mrs Harvey (housekeeper) and her daughter Lily, and Fay Alexander the sister of David Alexander.
My relationship with Clare grew from then and we went out together as often as possible. I was of course very active in the Young Communist League and so my political activity curtailed my social life and our companionship must have suffered because of my commitment to the Young Communist League. Nevertheless, we continued to see each other and soon became convinced of our love for each other. Unfortunately my parents, to say the least, did not take kindly to Clare. They tried to convince me that she was not the one for me.
The housekeeper at Shirley Road did not take to life in "the provinces" and before long she and her daughter returned to London, as did many evacuees. Consequently those who stayed had to find other accommodation. Clare moved to a house in Seymour Road Higher Crumpsall. The house belonged to a Mrs Shaw who owned two houses next door to each other and let off rooms.
On the ground floor in the house where Clare lived there was another family from London named Berner. Sadie Berner became a close friend of Clare's and went to work in the dress factory with her. On the first floor Minnie Spivack and Fay Alexander shared a room, then on the second floor was a man named Izbicki who had a son who suffered imprisonment under the Nazis. He eventually came here after the war and became a successful journalist. Then on the next floor some young Royal Air Force lads who were stationed in Heaton Park awaiting shipment out to training camps overseas. On the top floor was Clare in one room and an Austrian lady, another refugee from the Nazis had the other attic room.
The owner, Mrs Shaw lived in the basement with her beloved cats. We never knew how many cats lived there but by the smell in the basement it was obvious that there were quite a few.
In an effort to get my parents to see our point of view and accept the fact that we intended to stay together, I suggested that Clare come and stay with us in the house in Newington Avenue. We had a spare room as my younger brother Con had been evacuated to Kirkham near Blackpool and the bedsit in Seymour Road was by no means ideal. They agreed but it was a mistake. They took every opportunity to try and drive us apart and eventually were successful. Clare had gone to visit her Father who had moved to Leeds and whilst she was away my parents took the opportunity to once again split us up. To my shame I allowed them to win the argument and when I went to meet Clare at the station when she arrived back from Leeds I told her that I was breaking off the relationship.
We did not see each other for about six months. Then one night I went to the Ritz Ballroom, which was a very popular place at the time. Minnie had by then met her future husband, Sidney Silverman, and they often went dancing at the Ritz. When I walked into the Ballroom I saw them sat at a table and went over and sat with them. As we were talking Minnie got up and walked away and when she came back Clare was with her. Minnie had decided to get us talking and when she saw the chance she took it. We sat for a while and I then asked Clare if I could see her home. I eventually plucked up courage to ask her if she would agree to picking up where we left off and she said yes on the condition that I told my parents that we were going out together. I agreed and went home to tell them. The outcome of that was that I was told in no uncertain terms that if I wanted to take up with Clare again I would have to leave home, which I did.
I then had to find somewhere to live.
Working with me at Lewis's in the barbers' shop was a man named Joe Williams, Joe lived in a big house in Bignor Street in Hightown, not far from where I was born in Dudley Street. Joe was a likeable rogue and we got on very well and when I told him I had nowhere to live he immediately invited me to stay at his house. That was quite an experience. Joe was the sort of person who didn't give a damn for authority, what Joe wanted to do he did and to hell with the consequences.
In that part of Hightown there were quite a few small businesses like bakers, butchers and so on and most of the owners liked a gamble. This at a time when the only form of gambling that was legal, except for the Stock Exchange, was on course betting, that is betting at the racecourse. Any other form of gambling was illegal, even playing a game of cards was not allowed if money was involved. There were illegal bookmakers who ran a business in some back street and were always moving to keep out of the way of the police though most of the time the police turned a blind eye to such innocent action. Nevertheless, gaming did take place and people like Joe made quite a business out of running an illegal gaming house in the house where he lived. Most week-ends there would be a "game" in the house in Bignor Street. Joe's wife, Rose provided sandwiches, tea or coffee and Joe took a percentage of the money for each game played. I don't know how much he earned in this way but I'm sure Joe made it pay. I've seen hundreds of pounds change hands at the table during those games at a time when £100 was a lot of money. My wages for a weeks work would be about £2.50.
On the day I left home I went into Manchester to the factory where Clare was working and asked if I could speak to her. When she came out I made what must be the most unromantic proposal of marriage ever. "I've left home, we're getting married". As the age of maturity was 21 and I was still only 19 or 20, I needed to get the consent of my parents. They refused. I remember taking advice from someone, I don't know who, but the outcome was that we decided to ask permission from the court. The details of what we did escapes me but I have a clear picture of the Magistrates Court where we appeared. My parents came to oppose the application but they could not put forward a case that we should not be allowed to marry. So the Magistrate ruled in our favour.
We were married in a shool (synagogue) in Leeds as Clare's Father was by now living there having left London with the rest of the family to escape the bombing. This is an appropriate time to describe the rest of Clare's family.
They were a family of five sisters, their Mother had died aged 44 leaving the Father with five girls to bring up ranging from the youngest, Myrtle aged about ten, to the eldest, Nancy.
Joe Goorvitch, the father was a bespoke tailor, a craftsman in his trade. The similarity with my father was striking. They were both highly skilled craftsmen, both tried at some time in their working lives to set themselves up as small businesses but found that their skill lay in making things rather than making money.
As the bombing got worse in London Joe Goorvitch decided to take the rest of the family away from the danger and as Leeds was a centre of the clothing trade he felt that he would be able to find work there as a tailor. So it was that Clare and I went through a religious marriage service in Leeds although we had already been through a civil ceremony in Manchester. This meant that despite the fact that we were officially married on 15th July 1942, we did not live together until after the religious ceremony on 9th August '42. Clare had said that as she was being married according to the Jewish religious law, she wanted to go under the Chupa, (the canopy used in Jewish marriage ceremonies), as she should, a virgin. So we went on our honeymoon to London, which, on reflection, was a crazy thing to do. London was still under attack and we spent every night in the basement shelter of the Regent Palace Hotel, where we were staying. So, consummation of our marriage proved to be very difficult in the circumstances. How things have changed.
An incident happened whilst we were in London that was to repeat itself many years later in Moscow. We were going to see a friend of Clare's who lived in a suburb of London, Stanmoore. We went down into the Underground Station in Piccadilly to catch a tube train to Stanmoore. Not being familiar with the tube as I had never been to London before, when the train drew in I said to Clare, "You get on whilst I find out if it is the right train." As she got into the carriage I walked towards the front of the train to speak to the guard. The doors closed and off went the train with Clare in it and me left standing on the platform. She told me later that she was in tears thinking she would never see me again, someone in the carriage with her realising what had happened, comforted her and advised that she get off at the next station and wait for me to come on the next train. So we met on the platform of the next station with Clare in a panic. Moscow, 38 years later almost to the day, we went down into the Moscow Metro with some friends to go to Red Square. Everyone got on the train but I was again left standing on the platform. I got on the next train and they were waiting at the next station. More about that visit later.
As our holiday in London came to a close we returned home to that one room in Mrs Shaw's house in Seymour Road. Six weeks later I was called up for service in the Royal Air Force.
I had registered for military service when I was 18 years old but was not called to serve until two years later by which time I was beginning to think I would not be called up. It seems to me that there was a problem with my nationality. As my parents were not British and I was under 21, I was told by the Recruiting Officer that I could adopt my Father's nationality, which was Polish. I was entered as "Non British Parentage. Not to be posted without reference to the Section Commander". At one interview I had at the recruiting centre I was given the option of joining the Polish Armed Forces. That of course was not a road I wished to go down, the pre-war Polish Government had a reputation for anti-Semitism as bad as the Nazis.