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