This second letter is the one my father refers to in his column on Sept. 15, 1934. The same arguments on capital punishment are still being argued today. As for me, I would have to agree with Mr. Streator, though not on the hanging part :). My dad wrote the original column on Sept. 1, 1934.
With current assaults on the press, including in South Africa, of all places, this column is validation that the fight continues.
I found the letter to the editor published Sept. 8. 1934, from George Streator that this column refers to. I still agree with Streator. Sorry, Dad! This debate on capital punishment started with a column Ebenezer published Sept. 1, 1934.
When I was growing up in Pittsburgh, my sisters and I were forbidden from buying anything from Mr. Laby’s corner store. Mr. Laby, who was Jewish, ran the store with his wife (who was much nicer than her husband). There was no issue of him not hiring black clerks, because the store was strictly a family run operation. Mr. Laby treated his neighborhood customers with disdain – there were no white people in the neighborhood, so we were the store’s customer base. My sister Ellen-Marie told me that Mr. Laby also was known for shortchanging children! One day, I ventured into the store with my friend and neighbor Freda Williams. (I was not buying anything myself, so technically was not disobeying my parents.) After buying her candy, Freda asked Mr. Laby for a bag for her purchases. He refused, she insisted. I had a feeling this was a not the first time this ritual had played out. Mr. Laby proved no match for Frieda and, finally, exasperated, he handed Frieda the bag, which she immediately crumbled into a ball and threw back at him! We ran from the store as he yelled at us in Yiddish.
Like all the other rules in our house, I thought the Laby’s store prohibition was instituted by my mother. But given my father’s strong feelings about Blumsteins — did he really call them “Hitlers?” — I think Ebenezer may have initiated our family boycott.
There are some interesting bits of historical information, such as Marcus Garvey’s wife’s divorce complaint and his eventual deportation and the acquisition of the Schomburg collection by the Carnegie Corporation. Schomburg has particular meaning to me, as it was at the 135th Street library that I found these columns. Didn’t know the Amsterdam News tried to go daily – for a day. I didn’t know anything about Florence Mills, a well-regarded singer, dancer and comedienne who died of tuberculosis.
Why my father chose June 30, 1934 to reprint a list of 1927 events from another publication is beyond me.