Dorothy Eisenberg interview, March 8, 2017: transcript

i AN INTERVIEW WITH DOROTHY EISENBERG An Oral History Conducted by Stefani Evans and Claytee D. White The Building Las Vegas Oral History Project Oral History Research Center at UNLV University Libraries University of Nevada Las Vegas ii ©The Building Las Vegas Oral History Project University of Nevada Las Vegas, 2017 Produced by: The Oral History Research Center at UNLV University Libraries Director: Claytee D. White Editor: Stefani Evans and Vishe Y. Redmond Transcribers: Kristin Hicks, Frances Smith Interviewers: Stefani Evans and Claytee D. White Project Manager: Stefani Evans iii The recorded interview and transcript have been made possible through the generosity of the UNLV University Libraries. The Oral History Research Center enables students and staff to work together with community members to generate this selection of first-person narratives. The participants in this project thank the university for the support given that allowed an idea and the opportunity to flourish. The transcript received minimal editing that includes the elimination of fragments, false starts, and repetitions in order to enhance the reader’s understanding of the material. All measures have been taken to preserve the style and language of the narrator. In several cases photographic sources accompany the individual interviews. The following interview is part of a series of interviews conducted under the auspices of the Building Las Vegas Oral History Project. Claytee D. White Director, Oral History Research Center University Libraries University Nevada, Las Vegas iv PREFACE “This country needs new ideas, fresh thinking” Multicultural advancements in Las Vegas cannot be mentioned without speaking on the monumental contributions of Dorothy Eisenberg. From 1971 to 1998, she was involved with over 25 local organizations and committees and had the honor of having an elementary school named after her. Eisenberg’s beginnings start in the midst of the all American melting pot experience though immigration. Her mother came to the United States from Russia at age twelve and her father from Austria at age sixteen to go upholstery school. Upon marriage, they settled down in Philadelphia after the World War II. They raised Dorothy and her siblings to contribute to the community despite the anti-Semitism that was displayed there on a regular basis. Signs that said, “No dogs and Jews allowed” were common place. After her first husband died, leaving her as a single mother of four little girls, she didn’t allow herself to be trampled by her circumstances by enrolling in Temple University to be a teacher at a time when the university had stigma towards older students. Upon her marriage to her second husband, the family moved to Las Vegas where she found a spiritual home for her family at Temple Beth Sholom, where her children went learned to deeply appreciate their v Jewish heritage and attended Hebrew school. Having always been involved with politics in Philadelphia, she faced personal discrimination due to her religion when she was searching for organizations to involve her time. She eventually found a home with the League of Women Voters in 1965 and became involved with the Observers Corp and became aware of what was going on with the African American community from community based research and dialogue. She played a key role as president of the organization and faced heat for her involvement in the desegregation of sixth grade centers with the Kelly vs. Guinn decision in 1972 and was involved with the Welfare Rights Movement. She met Ruby Duncan and Jane Fonda, and she even showed up to the march with her daughters. Eisenberg was heavily involved with her namesake school through meetings with principals at least once a year, reading to students in the classroom, and bringing latkes to the school on Hanukkah. She continues the intergenerational legacy of educational involvement set forth by her parents with supporting her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren in the school as well. Dorothy Eisenberg is a true role model for Nevada and a pioneer for equal education in Las Vegas. vi TABLE OF CONTENTS Interview with Dorothy Eisenberg March 8, 2017 in Las Vegas, Nevada Conducted by Stefani Evans and Claytee D. White Preface……………………………………………………………………………………..……..iv European immigrant beginnings; Philadelphia after WW2; McCarran and immigration reform; coming to Las Vegas: 1964; Temple Beth Sholom……………………………………………1-10 Political signs and baby carriages; League of Women Voters; Jean Ford; Jan McCachren; Ann Zorn; 6th grade centers and busing in Las Vegas……………………………………….…….11-20 School dedication; Welfare Rights Movement; Maya Miller; Ruby and Harriet Trudell; Jacky Rosen; Eisenberg elementary demographics;being a proud mother, grandmother and great grandmother…………………………………………………………………………..………21-42 vii Good afternoon. It is March eighth, 2017. Stefani Evans and Claytee White are here with Dorothy Eisenberg. Ms. Eisenberg, may I ask you to spell your first and last names, please, for the tape? D-O-R-O-T-H-Y. E-I-S-E-N-B-E-R-G. Thank you so much. While you were filling out your paperwork, you mentioned what it was like to be a first generation American growing up in Philadelphia and I'd love for you to tell us about that. My parents were not born in this country; my mother came from Russia, my father came from Austria. My mother got here about twelve years old and was able to go to high school. My father came when he was about sixteen and he went to upholstery school and he learned to be an upholsterer and never went to public schools; however, he learned English, to read and write, on his own. So they were well assimilated here. But growing up in Philadelphia...it is a very historic city. Every place you look you can see history. For me during World War II, I lived through that and I was so thankful that we were in America and we were citizens and we could take part in what had to be done. Every young man I knew was in the army or the navy. It was a difficult time. But I was so thankful that I would go in Philadelphia and walk to the center there where they wrote the Constitution, where they had the Liberty Bell, where they spent all those hours making things happen for this country, and I would go to the Liberty Bell and just touch it. It made me feel so wonderful. I cannot thank this country for the opportunities it gave to my family and for my brother and myself. We were just blessed that we could have a full life here. CLAYTEE: So can you speak to what's happening today? Coming from what you just said, can you speak about how you look at what is being said today about immigration? 2 I'm horrified because if it wasn't for immigration, my parents would not be here and whole families that I knew and grew up with would not be here. They have contributed so much to this country, not only by being in the army and I lost a cousin in World War II, and all of the kinds of things that we went through, but paid a price, too. But immigrants could bring things—everybody brought different kinds of things that they could do, different levels of learning, different levels of family. Now, my brother went to school. He was a doctor. He's still a doctor and he's still working. He's eighty-six and still working as a doctor. He still lives in Philadelphia and has always been very, very caring about this country. He was in the Marines during the war. We all paid our dues and did our duty, but we all felt blessed. I think I passed that onto my children to be active. One of my grandchildren said so me, "I don't think I have to vote in the next election because I live in a Democratic state, in California, and it doesn't make any difference." Then I looked at him and he looked back at me and he said, "Okay, I know I have to vote." I taught all of them they have to vote; they have to take part; they have to march; they have to give of themselves; and if they can't do a lot, they can at least give some money and some time. They all have done that. I'm very proud of my daughters. They have all paid their dues in a lot of things. I raised nice children. But this country needs to be refreshed with different people, with different ideas, with people who can care the way I did and not just take it for granted that this is how we just sprung up here. So I'd like to explore that idea about being "refreshed" because I think that is what people overlook. When we hear the term immigrant, I think too many people are focusing on the idea that immigrants take jobs or they're looking for an excuse to— 3 Or that immigrants take advantage of you. Right. They're going back to this shameful sort of history that we've had ever since the Chinese Exclusion Acts and before. So we've always had these sorts of misogynistic ways of looking at immigrants. But your words about "refreshing" our citizen pool... Yes, and working force; that these people work. So bubbling up new ideas, bubbling up a skill set, bubbling up all kinds of... Innovative. Additions to our country that this is what we need at the time. We need some fresh thinking. We need out-of-the-box and they can bring it because I know my parents did that. They came with their parents who barely spoke English, but were very smart. They raised their children nicely and contributed to the community. Also, when I was growing up in Philadelphia, there was a lot of discrimination. I remember seeing signs on the door on Broad Street, which is a big street in Philadelphia, of a men's club and it said, "No Jews or dogs allowed." Yes. And in Atlantic City—Atlantic City was not a big city then and it was a very upscale kind of place—we would kind of go for a day trip and never could stay at a hotel because we couldn't afford to. They had little boarding houses where you could stay a night or two. But there were the big fancy hotels that also had "no Jews allowed." I think they assumed that blacks knew that they weren't allowed. Oh, yes. You didn't even have to put up a sign. And Philadelphia was a northern city, a cosmopolitan city, but it was also divided in neighborhoods and different kinds of places. I grew up in South Philadelphia, which was kind of like the slums, not too bad. We had mostly Italian families living near us, but we had wonderful friends and different kinds of people mixing, learning. I was Jewish, but I had friends who were 4 Italian who would take me to church and try to teach me to spell the...the beads. Oh, Rosary. Yes, yes. They were Catholic. They were really trying to teach them. Then I would challenge them to come to my little synagogue and show them Hebrew words, which they never could read, and say, "How about this?" But we were comfortable with each other and felt that we could talk to each other. Sure, we hung around with most of the people I knew from my synagogue, but in school it was wide open and that's what you did. You intermingled. You made friends. I was so happy in high school. I didn't realize until afterwards I went to an all-girls high school. I still have friends from my high school. I still look at my yearbook at times and see all of them. Not many of them are left. But it was a nice time. Certainly it was wartime. Certainly, you couldn't buy shoes. You couldn't get butter. You had to take this and that and the other thing. They had rationing. But we were young. Our history and geography was World War II. We'd open the newspapers every day and see where the army was, what the navy was doing, what was happening, where our friends were, where our boyfriends were, and that was our education. But it was close, it was caring, and everybody contributed. Nobody stood aside or made remarks. Everybody was very, very caring and patriotic. My husband said when he was in the navy that one time he saw Eleanor Roosevelt came to visit the navy in San Diego and it was very exciting that she came to visit the troops there. I can say I saw President Roosevelt. He came to Philadelphia to check out the naval yard that was in Philadelphia, and then they let the school out so we could stand on the street and wave as he 5 went by. I still can picture his face. It was history passing by and I knew it was history. Did you ever participate with any of the USO—what are those places called? USO, no. I did do things in elementary school. Because there was—well, this I did not talk about, I don't think, to anybody—because of discrimination and because I was Jewish, I certainly felt it. I certainly was not aware of all that was happening in Europe, but we'd hear some things at some points. So at one time someone from my synagogue said, "Why don't you high school kids get together and do something more than you're doing?" She put together a group; it was me, who volunteered, one of the Italian groups...Nicolina Fioquiaro, and a black woman whose name was...Eller Pius or something. I have her name in my yearbook. It will come back to me. So the three of us would go on a Sunday or whenever they would take us to different places; somebody would come with a car and take us to another high school in different parts of the city, and we would get up there and make our little speeches. I don't know if it helped any. It helped us, let's put it that way, because I could say how much I cared about this country and being Jewish was important to me and all of this kind of thing and I wanted to be accepted and be a part of this country. Then Nicolina would say they were Italian and Catholic and they had all of these kinds of things, but they were part of what we were. Then Liller Parrot would say, "I am here as a black student and we all have to work together for this war to end." We did that, I think, off and on for almost a year. I don't know who put it together. A woman that—her name I don't remember—would drive us over to these different places and make arrangements for us to be at one of the assemblies. They had an assembly. So we'd get up there, the three of us girls, and do it. It was very scary at first. I must admit I didn't grow up being a great speaker, but I think I learned a little more as I went along. I did start reading about speeches and things, in books, and how to improve. I tried to improve it as we went along. But the basic message was we could be 6 three different kind of people, but we're together and we want to make this country work. I don't think I talked about it very much because...I don't know. I didn't. How did you feel about at one point the United States turned away Jewish people who needed to get out of Europe? Well, this is one of the things I must tell you. When I arrived in Las Vegas the first time on a plane, got off the plane and I walked into McCarran Airport...I don't know if any of you know who McCarran was, but I did. I stood there in shock. McCarran put in a law putting the stop to immigration during World War II when they most needed it, when it was most necessary, and I couldn't believe it. Now, I want you to know I carry on my religion. I go to my little synagogue nearby. I said something to the people there one day about the name McCarran Airport. And you know what? They didn't know who he was. I said, "You don't know your history?" And I gave them a little history lesson at that point. But, yes, this happened. Not only that, things came out after the war that we were not aware of, of ships that had been turned away. People could never find a place. They went to South America. They went here; they went there. They finally went back and they were all killed. Is this what we want to do to other people who want to come here for solace, for caring, for giving? How can we live with ourselves if we know that they have no place to go? They really have no place to go. It's not of their choosing that there is war. It's not of their choosing that there's famine. This is what happens. And this country can afford to take some more people. We need more people. Exactly so Dina is trying to get McCarran's statue— I know. —out of Statuary Hall. So I guess we're all in agreement with Dina. But I was totally shocked the first time I came here. I mean, it's over fifty years. 7 But you knew he was. But I knew who he was and most people did not. So that was my welcome to Las Vegas. So tell me how you got to Las Vegas. It sounded as if you came more than once. What year was that? I came in 1964. My first husband died in 1960. I was left with my four little girls. And you were thirty-two years old. I was thirty-two. He was thirty-eight. It was frightening, scary. My parents were there. My brother was there. I had cousins, aunts and uncle. So I had a large extended family, but in the house it was me and my four girls. And this is in Philadelphia. In Philadelphia. At that point I had graduated high school, but had never gone further. However, my first husband had a business, a shoe store. So I worked with him in the shoe store after we got married. It was new. It was fine. The two of us were together every day. It was fun. I mean, we were newly married. We were happy. He was showing me how to try on shoes and all of that kind of thing. Then I became pregnant with the first daughter. I worked until the last day in the shoe store and then went to the hospital and had the baby. After that I would come in, if I could find babysitters or my parents, on the weekends when they were busy or on holidays. So I would always help out over the years in the store. Then he got a second store and a third store and was doing very well and then he died in a plane crash. So he had a partner at that point, and I wanted to go work in the store because that's all I knew, and he would not let me. They had no contract or anything, and so I couldn't do it. So I had Social Security. Let me tell you, whatever you have to say, there is nothing in the world that can help you like Social Security. I was paid Social Security for four children and 8 myself. How could I have done anything without that? The partner didn't pay you anything? No. I got zero. There was a small insurance that got me through a couple of years, but that's when I decided I had to do something for myself and not just sit and cry under the blankets. The children would hear me. So I started Temple University. They were very nice. They didn't take older people then. It was not like...They were college kids that went to school. They weren't thirty-three. But they interviewed me and they said, "Okay." I decided I would like to be a teacher because it would keep me in touch with my children. We'd have vacations the same time and we could do all of this, that and the other thing, and I thought that would be perfect. Okay, so I went to Temple University. I think I needed a hundred and twenty-four credits. I got exactly a hundred and twenty-four credits, not one more, not one less, to graduate. I went Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I would send the kids to school. Somebody would pick them up from school and then I would take care of the kids and do their homework. And when they were finished and went to bed, I would do my homework. The first semester was a nightmare. I didn't know which end was up. It was scary. I thought I would have to drop out. However, my brother came over on the weekend and helped me a little bit get over that stone that was there keeping me down. The next semester I did fine and it went very well. Not only that, it made such a difference in my life. It was like...If you see that movie that Judy Garland was in, "The Wizard of Oz?" And it starts out in black and white and suddenly you get color? Yes, yes. I walked in; my whole life was black and white. I mean, I could barely sleep or anything else. 9 Suddenly I had to study this. I had to be here. I did that. It was like Technicolor. School made such a difference in my life. I was so thankful to them that I could do this. I really, really was. However, I knew someone that had been a friend of the family and actually he was our CPA. We started to date a little bit, about three years in. It seemed to work out and he said to me, "I would like for us to move away from Philadelphia. There are too many memories here." He had been divorced. He had two daughters. He said, "Your family, your in-laws"—my in-laws were really...I felt so badly for them. Their son had died. It was awful. It was so sad. I would take my children every single Sunday to be with them, and the kids would say to me, "Mom, we don't want to do this anymore; it's like this and that." I'd say, "We have to do this." So we decided to move. Paul said somebody he knew from school who was also a CPA was living in Las Vegas and had gotten in touch with him and he offered him a job. Paul had gone to University of Pennsylvania to that business school. What's the name of it? Wharton? Yes, he had gone to Wharton, just like [President Donald] Trump. I think my husband was as smart as Trump, too. Oh, certainly not. Yes, yes. So he had gone to Wharton School. So he went to Las Vegas and fell in love with it. He said he went in April, he took off his hat—they wore hats—and coat and never put them on again. He said he just loved it. So he said, "I think we should move there." I said, "I don't know about it," and this and that. He said, "Well, come and visit." So I came to visit. That's when I said— McCarran Airport. 10 Yes, the airport. But we decided that we would do that. So over that summer we started out in a car with the four girls and one of Paul's daughters came to live with us. So you had five girls. So we had five girls. So we all came to Las Vegas on July the Fourth, which was so hot. Dorothy, daughters, and granddaughter. From left: Rachel (granddaughter), Beth, Amy, Dorothy, Joan, Ruth Which year? Sixty-four? Yes, '64. And no drama I'm sure with five girls. Not only that, we had sent the moving truck and we were driving and they were supposed to meet us. Well, naturally it didn't meet us and we had to stay at a hotel. Then we moved, but the only thing that saved us is they had a swimming pool—we were renting a house—and they went swimming every day. Every day one of the Mormons in the street came knocking at my door to say, "We want to welcome you." 11 Oh, wow. So what area of the city was it? It was the other side of town from here. It was near Decatur and Jones—it was Decatur and I forget what. It was the other side of town. We were just renting a house because Paul had rented the house. He wasn't sure where we would be. But we left there rather quickly to move to the other side of town, to the east side of town because Temple Beth Sholom was there. That was the only synagogue in town. My children all went to Hebrew school there. After regular school they went to Hebrew school there. So the other side of town was too far although there was not much traffic and not much anything else and would probably take us ten minutes to go from the other side of town to the east side of town. So we moved to the east side of town to...I forget the street. It will come back to me. So Temple Beth Sholom is on...Is it Charleston? But we were near Temple Beth Sholom. It was a very welcoming community because everybody that was Jewish that wanted to be Jewish was there. So we met people who owned partnerships in hotels, people who worked in hotels, and people who were just ordinary people there. It was certainly very interesting. It was a totally different kind of living. It really was. I think we enjoyed it a lot when we came, but I couldn't find a place for myself. What happened was I applied to teach here. So I had to take Nevada History, which I scoffed at. However, it still comes in handy. I still know why we were accepted into the union. I still understand how Reno was bigger than Las Vegas when we moved here. It was good for me to study Nevada history, not as exciting, but that was fine. So I had to take Nevada History and then I had to do some student teaching, which was the year that Clark High School opened up. I think that was '65 or so, '66; something in there it had to be. I think '65 or '66 it was. That makes sense. 12 I had a very nice teacher that worked with me for my student teaching. I met Kenny Guinn there. He was one of the teachers. I met Brian Cram there. I mean, these were just...Okay. So I was starting to meet people. Then I decided—well, my kids decided I should not be doing this anymore. I was actually bringing home all my papers to mark. I gave it to my kids to mark the kids' papers. Well, they were smart. And you had a daughter who was, what, fifteen by that time? Yes, yes. I must tell you, I'm very proud; my daughters were all exceptional, really. I'm very proud at how they all turned out. Wonderful. So, they decided that—and talking to Paul that I shouldn't work; that I should be more there for them because they were going through difficult times, too. It was totally different for them. So that's what I did; I stopped working. Then I thought, oh my God, what am I going to do with myself? So one of the things I did was go to...They had in the paper that there was a meeting of the Democratic Party, a ward meeting or something. I decided, well, I've done that in Philadelphia. Of course, I was very active in Philadelphia in politics. Although I couldn't vote until I was twenty-one, I was working in politics when I was seventeen, eighteen, nineteen. When I had my children I had a baby carriage and I'd put signs on the baby carriage and walk them down the streets. Signs like what? Give me an idea of the signs. With Stevenson for President, or whoever was running. This is what I was doing when my kids were growing up, in Philadelphia. Did you show a picture of the bottom of his shoe with a hole in it? I had grown up being patriotic, knowing I should be active in voting and politics, so I was. 13 So what was the first major campaign, first major issue that you got involved with in Las Vegas? Well, I didn't. I went to the meeting and I was not greeted well. Somebody said to me, "Oh, where are you from, little lady, from New York?" I said, "No, I'm from Philadelphia." "Well, why are you here?" I said, "Well, I've been active in politics in Philadelphia and I thought I would be doing something here." "Well, we don't think we need anybody now." Oh, yes. We lived on St. Louis, near Fifth Street and St. Louis. Why do you think that was? I don't know. I was not welcomed. I think the man who said "from New York" also said "Jewish." So he had you pegged as Jewish right away. Right. And you think that's why he didn't...? I don't know, but I was not welcomed. So I did not go back. Then looking in the paper again I saw another article in the paper that a League of Women Voters was forming and they were having a meeting at Essie Rousso's house. I knew Essie Rousso from my synagogue. So I thought, okay, let me see. So I went to her house and I was very welcomed. It was the second meeting of the League of Women Voters. The second meeting ever. Ever. And I met Jean Ford. There you go. That was it. There was never anybody as charismatic, as brilliant, as wonderful as Jean Ford except maybe Maya Miller. 14 Oh, please, you have to stop right now. I met her later. So when we get later, I want to know more about Maya Miller. Oh, my God, yes. So what year was this with the League of Women Voters? About '65-66. But it was an eye opener because Jean was amazing and she said, "The first thing that we're going to do is—all of us are new—we're going to do a study of Las Vegas, Clark County, and say, 'This is where we live and what we have.' Know your community. You can't do anything unless you know your community." How perfect for you. Yes. Most of us were not born here. Yes. How many people were in the room at this second meeting? I think maybe about twelve people. It was pretty good because Essie Rousso had a sister that was there and Jean had some people. So we started out dividing up; I mean, there was a city, a county, a North Las Vegas, a Henderson. So we had to find out how many people were on the councils, things that they had to do, what were they in charge of; all of this kind of thing. We had something we called the Observer Corps. I would go down to City Hall for a meeting and sit and take notes. They'd have an agenda and I'd write whatever they did and come back and write it up and present it to everybody. Now, we had different meetings. I think we had four different places to meet. [Pause in recording] I want to know more about the Observer Corps. Go ahead. So after about three meetings somebody came down from wherever they were, one of the city council men came down and said, "Can I help you? What are you here for?" I said, "No, I'm just 15 observer from the League of Women Voters and we're trying to find out what's happening in the district so that we can acquaint ourselves with it." I introduced myself and he asked about the League and I told him. So we were all doing this and bringing back information. There was a group that would meet in one house on a Monday and somebody else's house on a Tuesday and somebody else's house in the evening, and the one who was carrying the message would go and tell everybody what was doing. The League works this way: You have to study what you're doing. When you study it, you present it to your members and then you have to have consensus. After you have consensus you can act on it, not before. You can't tell somebody they should be doing this, that and the other thing unless you understand it. So you build on what you have learned. It's a very good way to learn and to understand what to do, and so that's what we do. We get information, we put it out there, everybody would talk about it and then we'd move to the next thing. Then we printed up this whole kind of thing about Know Your Community. Slowly people got to know us because we were out there. We would take stands...Anybody that was in the League, League members could take part in politics, but officers could not. We could not give money to a candidate. We could not take part in anything like that so that we could be honest and honorable about it. So that's what we did. We studied, should there be billboards? We studied housing. We studied whatever was there locally. There was a state League of Women Voters and they did statewide things. The national League of Voters, they would give us information or whatever and once a year you'd get together with the national League and all of that kind of thing, and that's where Jean Ford came in 16 because she was outstanding not just here, but nationally and statewide. So it was slowly working up with the League of Women Voters that made me look at things, made people look at us. Then we decided that we needed to get more money to publish things. I mean, we went after...Henderson had dumps and had all of that stuff. It was very dangerous there and we were after them. To clean up some of the chemical waste and all of that? Yes. Oh, they were still working there. Some of them were still working. Some of those plants. Some of those plants were still working. So tell me how the League approached that. Tell me how that campaign worked. Well, we went to see them and then we published our information about them so that people could see what was doing. We closed down a dump site once. Where they were dumping out in Henderson, there were fires and all of that kind of thing. We got somebody from one of the TV stations to come out with us to take pictures of the fire out there in the dump site. There were three women standing around this fire. It was like really funny looking when I think back on it. And he would take a picture someplace out there at the fire. It was on television. The League was respected. There weren't that many organizations. See, there are so many organizations now that you can't make out who's doing what. But this was a different time. There were not a lot of organizations. We had some of the brightest women I have ever met in my life, not just Jean Ford. We had Janet (Jan) MacEachern; her husband was a colonel in the army, been all over the world. Jan was like this colonel's wife; she was really something. She could read a budget and tell you what was right or wrong with it like I never saw. We had Ann Zorn; her husband was president of the university. She had been a college graduate; she was in the League. 17 She knew more about pollution than you would understand. And Daisy Talbetti, her husband was and engineer. In fact, I think they spent a year down at the bottom of the