CLOSE-UP
a risk taker. But he continued to per-
form because of his love for Yiddish.
He wanted to keep Yiddish alive."
Dave Dombey still has a number
of souvenirs from his father's early
days in the Old Country. The pictures
evince more than • a trace of
melodrama: Maurice Dombey, a pen
poised to his lips, sitting on a chair;
in his first car; looking wistfully into
the distance, his chin resting on his
hand.
Notes in Russian are scribbled on
the back, recalling Dombey's bir-
thplace. But, like thousands of his
fellow Jews, Dombey had little affec-
tion for the land of the czar.
So he came to Detroit in search of
a job. He found one, working for the
Ford Motor Company for $5 a day. It
was a livelihood, and Dombey was
glad to be working during the
Depression.
In the evenings and on weekends,
Dombey gave public readings of Yid-
dish short stories. Working under the
stage names "Moishe ben Moishe" or
"Mr. Chizik," he performed at Con-
gregations Shaarey Zedek and B'nai
Moshe.
Dombey also found his way to the
local Yiddish radio program on sta-
tion WJBK, where he and station -
manager Harry Weinberg rewrote
Sholom Aleichem stories into sket-
ches they performed on the air.
Dombey's love of Yiddish made
him a frequent patron of Yiddish
plays that came to Detroit. He went
as often as possible, waiting however
long it took to buy a ticket under the
huge marquee of Littman's theater.
He also made friends with several
of the Yiddish actors who came to
town. Menashe Skulnik was a
favorite of both Dombeys, father and
son.
"Whenever I heard Menashe
Skulnik was in town, I made sure my
father took me," Dave Dombey says.
"I remember he would do this song,
`I'd Give a Thousand Dollars To Be a
Millionaire.' That was my favorite."
Sometimes, Maurice Dombey
brought the Yiddish actors to his
home for meals. And he often took
Dave backstage at Littman's, where
the boy was allowed to take pictures.
Years after his death, Maurice
Dombey continued to delight those
around him. His daughter-in-law
Fayga Dombey remembers a recent
visit to a local nursing home.
"As soon as they heard my name,
they started talking and talking
about my father-in-law," she recalls.
"They spoke of him with such fond-
ness." 0
ACT TWO, SCENE ONE: In which
Harry Weinberg brings a Yiddish radio
program to life.
The Yiddish Hour
A
bsolutely not:' the young
woman's father yells. "Ab-
solutely not! My daughter
is not going to marry an
actor!"
Harry Weinberg goes outside and
sits on the apartment steps. He sighs
wearily. Would that man never come
around?
"Just how much can I do?" the
30-year-old Weinberg cries aloud. He'd
come all the way from Poland, got a
steady-paying job in Cleveland, met
the girl of his dreams and now he
couldn't marry her. All because of her
father.
What was wrong with being an
actor, anyway? Weinberg wonders.
It all started in Poland, where
Weinberg first evinced signs of having
the theater in his blood.
He left home when he was 14 and
traveled throughout Europe in search
of acting jobs. He was frequently cast
as the leading man. "But my father
was bald;' his daughter, Bette Schein,
a resident of Southfield, recalls today.
"So he wore a lot of hats."
At 19, Weinberg came to New
York to avoid being drafted.
Meeting with no success in New
York, Weinberg left for Cleveland. He
quickly made friends who helped him
fix up an old theater where he star-
red in Yiddish productions.
Called the Globe Theater, the
business was a great success.
Weinberg had no intention of leaving.
But he just couldn't forget his
beautiful Jennie, whom he met when
she came to see a performance at the
theater.
In the end, Weinberg gave in to
Jennie's father. He set off for Detroit,
Harry Weinberg and his daughter Bette on WJBK's `The Yiddish Hour.'
where his sister lived, and opened a to the side was a small studio where
shoe store.
the announcer sat, a heavy
The store was a good business. microphone on the table in front of
The Weinbergs worked there together. him.
At noon, Jennie ran home to fix her
A grand piano was in the room,
husband lunch. It was always waiting and in the corner was a collection of
on the table for him when he came in. items to make sound effects: a
After she prepared lunch, Jennie doorbell ringing, horses running by
might go out for a Lucky Strike or to and a door opening and shutting.
play cards or for a drive, her hair
The 90-minute program proved so
blowing in the cool wind behind her. popular that Yiddish troupes perfor-
Jennie Weinberg was a devoted wife, ming at Littman's often stopped by
but . she was also an independent WJBK to perform a song or a brief
woman.
scene as promotions for their shows.
Weinberg never forgot about the
Schein remembers meeting many
Yiddish theater. It was in his blood. of the prominent Yiddish actors who
So he listened carefully when, in stopped by her father's studio, in-
1932, someone suggested he start a cluding the popular Molly Picon.
Yiddish radio hour.
The Weinberg family lived just six
He decided to do just that. And so blocks from Littman's theater and
WJBK's "The Yiddish Hour" — which often hosted the Yiddish actors for
was to air for 30 years — was born. brunch. The troupes would come at
But wait, Weinberg thought. Just 11:30 a.m. and promptly depart in
what should a Yiddish program time for their 2 p.m. performance.
include?
"They were always very glad to
Well, naturally the news must be have a good meal:' Schein recalls.
reported. So Weinberg hired Isaac "They didn't make much money and
Finkelstein to read the daily dispat- they had sad lives."
"The Yiddish Hour" began wan-
ches.
ing
after World War II. The advertis-
And what about a live orchestra?
ing
dwindled;
the actors came less fre-
Now there's an idea! Weinberg smil-
quently;
and
everyone
prefered televi-
ed, pleased with himself. And in-
sion
for
entertainment.
between, he would play records. He
Harry and Jennie Weinberg even-
could get his daughter, Bette, to in-
tually
moved to Florida and ran a
troduce some of those swinging tunes.
motel. Their daughter, Bette, was
His plans complete, Weinberg married with a child and had little
went into action.
time for the Yiddish radio anymore.
"The Yiddish Hour" was a suc-
Her brother tried to keep WJBK
cess from the start. It was housed in going for awhile, Schein says, but it
a studio on Hamilton and Grand just didn't work out. And so "The Yid-
streets, Schein recalls. The first room dish Hour" faded into history. 1=1
was large and filled with windows; off Continued on next page
THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS
25