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Philip's Story
What happened to the little boy who was "killed."
ELIZABETH APPLEBAUM ASSOCIATE EDITOR
p
hilip Jeffrey Gordon lived for a
matter of months more than 40
years ago. But those who knew his
sad story have never forgotten it.
In January, The Jewish News told of
Philip's unusual tombstone at Machpelah
Cemetery. It reads: "Killed - April 11,
1951."
Among those who remember the baby
and know his full story is his cousin, Lois
Gordon-Miller of New York.
Philip was born in 1950 to Sarah Fish-
er Gordon and Joseph Gordon of Detroit.
Joseph was the youngest brother of Ms.
Gordon-Miller's father, Alexander Robert.
Philip Jeffrey Gordon's grave at Machpelah.
The Gordon family originally was from
Cleveland, Ohio, but came to Detroit for
work.
Sarah Fisher was an orphan whose
parents had been killed in an auto acci-
dent. She spent most of her life with a
family named Rosensweig, though they
never formally adopted her.
"Sarah was a real go-getter, bright and
ambitious and full of energy," Ms. Gor-
don-Miller recalls. She rode horses and
liked bowling and had her own real-es-
tate agency that started with the letter
A, "because that's the first place people
look in the phone book."
Joseph and Sarah were married when
both were 26 years old, during World War
II. At first they had little money, and de-
cided to wait for awhile before having a
child. Then there were other difficulties:
Sarah had a hard time getting pregnant,
then suffered several miscarriages. She
was in her mid-30s when finally she had
a successful pregnancy.
The couple was living in the Atkinson
Apartments at 3402 Atkinson and Sav-
ery, just east of Dexter, when their son
Philip Jeffrey was born on April 14, 1950.
The infant was the center of their lives.
"Sarah doted over him," Ms. Gordon-
Miller says. "He was such a cute baby."
In early April 1951, Philip began
coughing incessantly and fluid poured
from his ears. On April 9, 1951, a Friday,
his mother took him to Children's Hos-
pital in Detroit. Lois Gordon-Miller's
mother went to visit the boy on Saturday
and reported that he was looking better
and should be released soon. But by Sun-
day Philip was dead.
It was three days
short of his first birth-
day.
Philip's death cer-
tificate says he died of
"interstitial p neu-
monitis," a lung infec-
tion. Most likely, this
was the disease from
which he was suffer-
ing when he entered
the hospital.
In fact, Philip died
after strangling be-
tween the bars on his
crib at the hospital,
Ms. Gordon-Miller
says. (Federal guide-
lines have since been
established that regu-
late acceptable widths
between crib bars, so
that a baby's head
cannot fit through.)
Ms. Gordon-Miller,
a Wayne University
student at the time,
still remembers how
devastated the Gor-
don family was after
Philip's death. Sarah Gordon wanted to
sue the hospital, but couldn't find an at-
torney to take the case. She wrote many
letters to newspapers, telling how her son
had died.
"She wanted to make sure this would
never happen again," Ms. Gordon-Miller
recalls.
Though the family protested, Philip's
mother insisted her son's tomb bear the
word "killed." During the funeral service,
Joseph Gordon tried to throw himself into
his baby's grave.
Joseph Gordon and his brother Albert
later opened a bar on Jefferson. Joseph
and Sarah settled in a home on Marlowe
in Oak Park and had another child,
Mary.
Joseph died in 1960 and is buried at
Machpelah. Mary and her mother both
live on the West Coast. Ms. Gordon-
Miller is the head of the speech de-
partment at Touro College in Man-
hattan.
❑
Raymond and Rhoda Bloch in 1941.
Best Buddy
Raymond Bloch was a journalist, a soldier and a great big brother.
EUZABETH APPLEBAUM ASSOCIATE EDITOR
T
he trouble began
while Raymond and
Erwin Bloch were
walking down an al-
ley near a printing press at
Palmer and Chene in De-
troit. It was 1931. Ray was
11; Erwin was 7.
One of the neighborhood
toughs approached Ray-
mond. "Hey, Jewboy," he
called.
Erwin, who today lives
in Royal Oak, is a little
sketchy on the details. He
doesn't remember what
was said after the slur or
who threw the first punch.
But he does know that boy
learned his lesson about
Raymond Bloch. By the end
of the fight, "the other fel-
low was very glad to get out
of it," he says.
It wasn't that Raymond
liked fighting. He just
wasn't about to let anyone
push him around.
Raymond Bloch, who is
buried at Machpelah Ceme-
tery, fought his last fight in
1945 when he was killed
during World War II. He
was 25 years old.
Raymond Bloch was
born June 8, 1920. His fa-
ther, Leo, was a traveling
salesman who spoke five
languages. His mother,
Jeanette Banks Bloch, was
a native of Detroit.
At first, the two lived out-
side Cleveland, Ohio, Leo's
hometown. Then they
moved to Detroit, settling
in a two-story dwelling at
Farnsworth and Chene in
a predominantly Polish-
gentile neighborhood. The
family lived upstairs and
operated a shoe store down-
stairs.
Leo Bloch made shoes
like nobody else, his son Er-
win says. They were top-
quality and always of the
best material. His wife also
worked in the shop and had
the reputation of being a
good listener. She had time
for anyone's woes, Erwin
says, and always sympa-
thized.
Their first child was a
boy, Raymond. Three more
children — another son and
two daughters — would fol-
low.
Raymond was, from the
start, a leader. He was
smart, strong and hard-
working, but never too busy
for his kid brother. Some-
times the two got up early
and walked to Belle Isle,
just to be alone and talk. Or
they might go to the Green-
wich restaurant on Chene,
where Raymond liked to
play pinball. Erwin liked to
watch his moves.
"He was an amazing
player," he says.
Raymond's best friend
was Harry Kovitz, who
lived just down the street
in an apartment atop his fa-
ther's ladies' ready-to-wear,
notions and linen shop.
In a video made not long
before Mr. Kovitz died,
Raymond's pal remem-
bored a devoted friend vy.‘,..
whom he liked catching
Westerns that started mid-
night Saturday, hanging
out at Briggs Stadium
downtown, or walking to
the Vernor's plant.
It was a long journey, but
that made it all the better.
The two would work up a
terrible thirst, then nothing
in the world tasted better
than a Boston cooler (made
of Vernor's and vanilla ice
cream).
Sometimes, Raymond
and Harry rode bikes along
MacDougal Street. It cost
25 cents to rent one for an
hour.
Mr. Kovitz said "Ray was
always proud of the fact
that he was Jewish." He
couldn't wait for the day
when a Jewish state would
be established, and its air
force would fly in formation,
in the shape of a Star of
David.
It was Harry, in fact,
who introduced Ray to his
future wife. Her name was
Rhoda Rosenman, and she
was a friend of Harry's girl,
Violet. Later, Raymond and
Rhoda would marry during g
(a)
one of Ray's furloughs.
In 1937, Raymond grad- _
uated with high honors
from Northeastern High =
School, where he also (-)
served as editor of the
school paper. He became
active in AZA chapter 314
and later was named pres- 25
BEST BUDDY page 26