SHACK 100 TRAUMA

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Through life's highways and bye ways there are mixtures of experiences. I was born to a Jewish family and at the age of four had a near death experience and the family were evacuated to North of England in Cumbria and then to High Wycombe this was because of London being bombed during the second world war.

Then there was a brief sojourn in Wembley and then to Stamford Hill and Stoke Newington, here I was sent to a  extremely religious school to be taught Hebrew for my Barmitvah (Jewish rite of passage at the age of 13).

It was the most miserable and the most wonderful years of my life at the age of eleven years, I met Sensei and Chasisdick Rabbis a stark contrast.  I also became aware, although I suspected that my parents were not happy.  In my eleventh year at Stamford Hill I knew for sure my father was a chronic addicted gambler.

Just before my Barmitzvah(I caught chicken pox three weeks before the event and just made it) my parents split up and Mother and I went to Balham and various other places and none of our relatives would take us in.  The most dramatic event occurred when my parents tried to make a go of things.

Dad called for us and we were ushered into a men's barber shop, smoke of cigarettes and cigars filled the saloon, men's magazines were strewn on the floor, there were crude remarks, Mum clutched me to her tightly.  We then went down to the cellar, down rickety stairs with a wobbly banister and open steps, there were two thin metal camps beds, bare concrete floor, cold and a smelly toilet shared with the clients upstairs.  The blankets on the bed were dirty and that brown rough coarse feel that army barracks blankets have.

My Mother cried and said 'Maurice is this what you have brought us too' He shrugged and sheepishly said 'well its somewhere to stay' and then just turned his back and went away'.

My Mother crying tore at my heart strings, I did not know what to do.  I felt rage at my father and wanted to hit him. For years I felt the sobbing of my Mum, she never recovered fully nor I for many years.

Eventually we were taken in by my mothers sister and husband and my mother shared a room with my grandma, my aunt and uncle were childless and Uncle took over the role of father, he was fun and kind, my aunt was nervous and strange, Grandma from Russia a real matriarch.

I had at last a warm comfortable bed and my own room. 

SHACK