JGA July-August 09 - The Jewish Georgian

July-August 2009 THE JEWISH GEORGIAN Page 17
Milestones amid the keepsakes
ome days, I get the “urge to purge,”
but so much good stuff has been Ssquirreled
away over the years that I
find more goodies to keep rather than toss.
Here’s a clipping, yellowed with age—
a birth announcement from the North China
Daily News: “On July 12, 1925, at St.
Marie’s Hospital, Shanghai, to Mr. and Mrs.
J. Friend, a daughter.” By golly, that’s me!
The hospital was run by the French
Catholic nuns and located in the French
Concession, or Frenchtown as we called it,
miles away from where we lived. I regret
now that I never asked my parents why I
wasn’t delivered at our general hospital,
also run by Catholic nuns, but located closer
to our house in Hongkew.
Years later, in the 1930s and ‘40s,
Hongkew became the famous ghetto for the
thousands of European refugees who fled to
China and were lucky to have missed the
Holocaust by a whisker, so to speak.
Another milestone: My kindergarten
report shows, among other remarks,
“Balfoura is rather shy about taking part in
dramatization...is a well-behaved girl, both
in the classroom and on the
playground...excellent work in reading and
phonetics.”
Then prizes and commendations in
years to follow, a prefect in my senior year,
but no honors in gym or sports—I was a
puny, sickly geek!
In my old scrapbook, I have the ticket
stub for my 1947 trip on the General B.
Gordon ocean liner, bringing me to the
United States. Attached to the ticket is the
Shanghai Quarantine Service certificate
showing I received the necessary vaccinations
to board the ship.
Framed on my wall is a most precious,
15” x 18” (real sheepskin, y’all), 1950
University of Georgia diploma. Artium in
Journalismo Baccaclaurei, dated X June
Annoque Domini MCML. A proud milestone....
And there are more: the 1953 invitation
to my wedding to Hans R. Mayer, in
Savannah—I became an American citizen
later that year, a major milestone; our first
child, Sandra Mayer, born in 1954 in
Eastman, the first grandchild for my parents,
Frieda and Jacob Friend, and a huge
milestone for all of us.
Most checks I’ve shredded, but one
that I’ve saved, for $50, is dated March 26,
1956. It is made out to Bernard Jacobson,
the mohel who drove in from Savannah to
perform the bris for our son, Ronnie Mayer,
at our new home in Hawkinsville. My husband,
Hans, taught me how to make
German potato salad, to serve with the
luncheon for our family and guests that day.
Our family doctor, who delivered Ronnie,
was invited to the bris, and he later told me
that he was quite impressed, witnessing this
ritual for the first time.
I also found a 1962 bulletin from the
Fitzgerald Hebrew Congregation, where
our small-town Middle Georgia Jewish
families worshipped and socialized. Noted
BY Balfoura Friend
Levine
in the bulletin: “ A Mazel Tov to Mr. & Mrs.
Hans Mayer of Hawkinsville, on the birth
of daughter Laurie Kay.” My youngest,
Laurie Mayer Coffey, is now 47 and mother
of 11-year-old Tom.
In front of me is a yellowed copy of
The Jerusalem Post, September 18, 1978.
The banner headline screams out, “Pact for
Peace at Camp David.” My daughter Sandy
and I are on board El Al, winging our way
to our odyssey in Israel. Besides meeting
my paternal cousins for the first time, I
recall holding my breath at my first sight of
the Western Wall (which I always think of
as the Wailing Wall) and then touching the
actual stones, where thousands of years ago
one of our ancestors may have stood as
well. If this trip wasn’t a mind-shattering
milestone, I don’t know what else it could
be.
Another biggie, in November 1992,
was my trip to Russia with the Friendship
Force and the first time meeting my mother’s
family. Hugs, kisses, and tears of joy in
celebrating that milestone.
And then there was the summer of
1996, when Atlanta hosted the Summer
Olympics. I am stroking the beautiful silk
scarf, part of my dress uniform as envoy to
the Republic of Moldova (formerly the
Moldavian SSR) team in the Paralympic
Games, which followed the Olympic
Games. I gulped down tears as I marched
with the Moldovan standard bearer and the
nine-member team in both the opening and
closing ceremonies—another milestone.
During the decades of my adult life,
there have also been sad milestones. I have
obituaries of my parents, my husbands, and
some dear friends, as time winged its way
through the years.
Then many more joyous milestones:
the childrens’ marriages; my presence in
1984 at the birth of my first grandchild,
Erica (who is now in law school; how time
flies), followed in four years by the
awesome and unforgettable
experience of actually
watching the birthing
of her younger brother,
Scott. He is now in
his second year at
UGA. Wow!
I’m not
claiming originality
in reciting
personal
milestones. I
am, however,
genuinely
amazed to
find all these old cards, photos, and documents
of those interesting and life-altering
times and events in my life.
One thing I’ve noticed: Throughout the
1950s and ‘60s, I was referred to as Mrs.
Hans Mayer (I signed the check to the
mohel that way, too), as though I were only
a half-part of my husband. I guess most
married women were so addressed then. We
are now taught to have our own credit cards
and bank accounts. I’m not a rabid feminist,
but I think it’s about time we have our own
personal identities. And that, too, is a huge
milestone.
Each birthday is a milestone of sorts,
and I have passed 84 such markers in my
lifetime. Which interesting celebrations are
yet to come? I’m ready—bring them on!