by Bro. Fred Tepper
1953—I was stationed at Camp Gordon, Georgia initially as a morning report clerk in Co. 2, BTG, SigC, a basic training co. Later I became a military instructor in Teletype. As a Corporal, I was allowed to live off base with my wife and so we did in Augusta, Ga. It was there, within” Magnolia Villa” at the corner of Walden Way (a room and boarding house that resembled a southern plantation), that we were introduced to two very elderly spinster Catholic sisters, Ms. Mary and Ms. Nellie who operated the establishment.
Breakfast and dinner was included and on Sunday, southern fried chicken with all the trimmings and homemade ice cream. I was not allowed to leave for reville until I had a full breakfast. Eventually, I was reassigned to Ft. Huachuca, AZ and promoted to sergeant. We packed our bags into our 1950 2-door Ford and said our goodbye to these two very dear individuals. I said, “Thank you Ms. Mary for being so good to us.” She responded with what I carried with me the rest of my life and conveyed it to anyone who would listen. “It’s not hard to be nice to nice people!” This was a truly profound statement and unknown to me at the time, very Masonic.
When I eventually was released from active duty within the 232nd Signal Co. stationed at Ft. Huachuca, my wife flew home in anticipation of our first born and I loaded up my car and started eastward, however I did take a detour to Augusta to see these two very special ladies for perhaps the last time. It was Sunday and I was in uniform. I parked my car and entered the pillared main entrance. Ms. Mary was sitting by her self-appointed station, the telephone, where I last remembered her. Being about 85, she was never without her cane. She saw me, dropped her cane and ran as fast as an old lady could towards me. As we hugged, she asked me, “Did you eat?” I said no and she escorted me into the dining room where she ordered the kitchen staff to delay cleanup to serve me. I felt like a king and we talked for hours. Ms. Mary asked, “Where are you staying tonight?” I said, “in a hotel somewhere.” She said and this was the first time she probably ever cursed. “Like hell, you are!” She fixed up a room for me for the night and I had a full breakfast the next day before leaving for home.
My own parents could not have treated me or my wife any better. They have long since passed on, however they will always remain permanently, indelibly and lovingly attached to my “treasures of remembrances.”
No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.
The Lion and the Mouse
Aesop, 550 B.C.
by Ira Luchinsky, PM
Portsmouth, Virginia wasn’t much of a town back in the early 1960’s. It isn’t much today either. The main industry was and is the Norfolk Naval Shipyard. The yard supported thousands of workers who maintained and modernized many of the ships in the 6th Fleet. These same workers supported the town’s economy. As I remember, a permanent shroud of gray hung over the area, a pall created by the smoke that poured into the air from the shipyard.
There was one movie theatre, the Commodore on High Street, the main street through town and a couple of one star hotels on Effingham. My ship, the USS Wright was taken into dry dock at the ship yard in late 1963 and remained there until the middle of the following year. On occasion, I would wander the streets of downtown Portsmouth just to get away from the hustle, bustle, and noise of the shipyard.
It was my intention, that day, to go to the Commodore. When I got there and realized that I would be watching the latest Elvis Presley movie, I decided to walk further down High Street; and there it was: The New York Deli. I walked in and to my surprise the interior was very reminiscent of my father’s delicatessen in Baltimore. I almost felt at home. I selected a table and ordered a corned beef sandwich and a drink. After eating, I struck up a conversation with the owner. I told him about my father’s delicatessen back home. He was a nice man but not overly friendly and he listened patiently to a mildly homesick sailor.
Time passed, I frequented The New York Deli at least once a week. Once, after returning from a short leave I was surprised and saddened to find The New York Deli….gone. After making a couple of inquiries, I learned that it had moved closer to the center of town on Court Street.
The days dragged by slowly. Suddenly it was late March and Passover was rapidly approaching. I was able to get home for the first Seder but had to go back to the ship the next day. At some point during that week of Passover I took a walk in downtown Portsmouth and stopped by The New York Deli for dinner. To my surprise, they had a Passover menu and I remember enjoying a bowl of matzo ball soup among other traditional Passover foods. When I was finished eating, I signaled to the waitress and asked for the check. She informed me there would be no charge. I must say that I was very touched by the generosity of the owner and thanked him most sincerely as I left. He just smiled, nodded his head, and went about his business.
The years passed and I have told the story of this man’s generosity many times. In 1996 I returned to Portsmouth on a business trip. When my business was concluded, I decided to drive downtown. Portsmouth had changed, but not a lot. It seemed somewhat brighter and cleaner than I remembered. Parts of High Street had been renovated. The Commodore was still there. I couldn’t wait to get to Court Street. It was doubtful that The New York Deli would still be in business after so many years, but there it was. There was a young man behind the counter and I asked him where I could find the owner. He told me that he was the owner. I told him my story and that I wished that I could meet the former owner and thank him once again. To my surprise, the former owner was in the store visiting at that time. I went over to him shook his hand and reminded him of his kindness of many years ago and thanked him once again. He gave me a slight smile and shook his head. He had no memory of me or that day in 1964. The sun was shining as I left the New York Deli.
Ira Luchinsky