By Sharon Cramer

Sorcerers of memory abound, with a flourish they bring back my mother’s garden, my father’s upholstery shop near Chicago, my husband’s laugh.  If only the chairs my father reupholstered could talk! Lately, memories of my father and his shop magically appear.  Although the store closed decades ago, it lives on. 

On a recent tour in California, a conversation with a fellow traveler led to a surprise. We found out that we grew up near each other in the Chicago suburbs.  She remembered Homer’s ice cream store (still there), Olsky Jewelers (still there), and my father’s upholstery shop (1948-2006).  Her mother’s needlepoints had been turned into pillows and footstools by him.  Our remarkable conversation stacked one intense memory on top of another – of places neither of us live near anymore. 

My father’s early life in Vienna, Austria was shaped by his father’s work — being an upholsterer.  My father left school after seventh grade to apprentice to his father.  Putting his math skills to use, being economical with fabric, he started small.  His father gave him easy jobs in the beginning, to reupholster the cushions women put on their window sills, to lean upon while they gossiped across the street with their neighbors. 

As he gained in skills and confidence, he moved on to footstools, arm protectors, and chair cushions.  His apprenticeship graduation project was to take a wooden frame and build it up to a fully upholstered chair.  When he did this to his father’s exacting standards, he received his certificate.  Life looked to be a continuation of the third generation of upholsterers in his family but then came Kristalnacht.  On November 9, 1938, in Germany and Austria, so much destruction (of synagogues, shops, homes) and violence took place that the night was given its own name, “The night of broken glass.”  For the first time, Jewish men (30,000 of them) were rounded up and taken to concentration camps.  His parents, anticipating the future, sent him and his sister to safety, to live with uncles in Chicago. He brought his upholstery toolbox and his skills to America.

He also brought his fear of a repeat of that unimaginable transformation of his world.  He would not join a temple, anticipating another ripping apart of his life.  For the decades he had his store, he never closed on Jewish holidays.  Another upholsterer manned the store, while our family attended a synagogue he found for unaffiliated people.  It took me turning 70 to finally overcome his frights, and join Shir Shalom, a transition that he never could have made.

His life was his family and his work.  Until he turned 87, he built new chairs and sofas, transformed older ones with colorful fabrics.  When my father finally decided to close his upholstery shop, he gave me a large envelope. In it I found thank you notes he had saved since his business began.  Some were actual notes, others just a few scribbled words on the bill — payment (and chairs!) long gone, but the words remain.  Treasures he kept and entrusted to me.  I worked with a tech-savvy student to create a website http://thankyoumrcramer.com which featured his life and his business.  I often asked myself, “Why continue to pay the fees required to keep the site alive, now 15 years after he died?”  Recently, so unexpectedly, I got my answer – receiving a message through the site. 

“I came across the website “Thank You Mr. Cramer” honoring your dad’s legacy and his upholstery shop.  I wanted to let you know that I am the daughter of Mr. Cramer’s last employee.  In 2006, I came to your father’s upholstery shop while he was closing it permanently, and you and your dad wrote a letter on my behalf to my university, supporting my request for financial assistance. Without your help, my request may not have been granted.  I was able to obtain a Bachelor’s degree! Thank you to you and your dad for your help back many years ago.” 

All these years later, a thank you found its way to me.

Sharon Cramer, Ph. D., Distinguished Service Professor, Emerita, is a member of Congregation Shir Shalom.  Based on research conducted by Dr. Chana Kotzin, she designed a tour of Jewish cemeteries on Pine Ridge for Explorer Buffalo, which she has been giving regularly since 2021.