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Steal Away
By MURRAY J. CUSTER,
I found out I was a Jew when
I was nine years old. One Sunday
I asked my father why 1 did not
go to thi' little Methodist church
in the small town in Nebraska
where we lived. My father looked
at me in a way 1 did not under
stand. and then told me about re-
Iigi< in.
Me said all men worship a liv
ing God who is all-powerful, all
knowing. This God is worshipped in
different ways. Some people wor
ship Jesus Christ, whom they be
lieve the Son of God; others wor
ship God alone. I belonged to that
group which worship only God.
My friends were of those who wor
ship only His Son. I was a Jew.
1 could not quite understand
what difference it made, except
that 1 now knew why I did not
gn to church. Being a Jew made
me different, a situation in which
I was glad to be — after all, I
was the only one. As I started
to go outside, my father looked
at me in a funny kind of way, and
said.
"Remember, Peter, you can not
tear the Jew from your heart."
I did not know what he meant.
My father, owner of the general
store, did not make much money,
but that was on no consequence.
We did not need much: we never
went hungry. As I grew older. I
learned my father was not like
the older men of the town in many
ways. A quiet man who never
gave anyone any trouble, he would
close the store every evening at
six o'clock - close it for sales,
that is
There would alwavi
s be
a few
men who wanted to
stay
around
the fire, and talk.
and
smoke
their pipes, and josh
my
father
because he smoked
only
cigarettes he was about
the
only man in town who did that.
Every Saturday night he would
shut up shop, send me to the week
ly dance, and go to the saloon. He
could hold his liquor better than
any man around. Whenever an
outsider started boasting that he
could drink any man under the
talle. my father would be pitted
against him. My father, who til-
ways won. never bet but everyone
else did, and some people made
a lot < f money betting on my
father.
I was there the night the big
Packard with the New York
li ense plate stopped in front of
th, saloon. The owner came in.
and ordered a double whiskey. It
v. a« cold the way Nebraska gets
that time of year, and a man need
ed drink like that. My father and
1 were playing checkers on the
table near the stove, (everyone
said I played right well for a fif
teen-year-old) when this man
came over to watch.
I could tell right off he was one
of those big-city busy-bodies,
when he started directing my
moves in a way no one in town
ever did, except Tom Greentree,
who was excused for this because
he was so old. This stranger went
on like that until I could not stand
it, and 1 wondered at my father's
patience.
I was glad when my father fin
ally beat me, and he asked the
stranger if he wanted to play. The
stranger had had two more double
whiskies while we were playing,
and he must have been effected
by them. He was a good player
though. and everyone watched
them. They played a long time,
thinking out each move; 1 wonder
ed how he could play so well with
so much liquor in him. My father
would win a game, then he would
win a game — all night it went
on like that. At the end of the
last game, the stranger smiled, and
suggested they have a drink.
They got up together and walk
ed to the bar-rail. Mr. Coders,
that was the stranger's name, acted
as if he had nothing stronger than
water in him. I wondered if my
father could drink him under. At
any rate. I knew there would not
be much betting if he tried; every
one had seen the way the New
Yoiker could drink.
By this time I kind of liked Mr.
Coders. He kept cracking jokes,
funny little 1 ones, not the slow
drawn-out kind to which I was
accustomed. Everyone took to him
right off everyone except my
father. It wasn’t anything my
father said, or how he acted. But
I knew when my father took a
dislike to someone, something got
into his eyes that stayed there,
no matter how much he laughed
and smiled
After a while Mr. Coders stopped
joking. He said he was a field or
ganizer for a big organization
which was wholly dedicated to
American interests, the true Ameri
can interests. He was going to
stay a short time to establish a
unit in our town, before moving
to other territory.
My faher asked him what he
considered the true American in
terests to be. Coders looked at my
father as he answered.
"Well, there wouldn’t be any or-
ganization like the one I represent
if there weren’t a need for it.
When I hold the rally here M< n-
dav night, we’ll talk it over more
clearly; but the main idea is for
all of us to band together to block
the international bankers and the
communists. See what I mean, Mr.
Gordon?”
No one said anything when he
finished. Everyone was looking at
Coders and my father, and every-
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