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February 16, 2007

Western Jewish history collection gets broken up among local academic institutions

“Mr. Nathan Jacoby and party spent Sunday at Arrowhead Springs, making the journey in their automobile,” reported the B’nai B’rith Messenger of Los Angeles on April 16, 1909.

“Automobiles are a service of great joy to their owners and the fact that so many are being purchased by the Jewish community is noteworthy,” the story continued. “Mr. Sam Newmark has a new Locomobile, Mr. Jacob Loew has a Packard car, and there are many more on the way.”

This little gem tells us perhaps more about the upwardly mobile Jews of early Los Angeles than a demographic treatise, and there’s more where that came from.

A lot more. The spacious three-car garage of Gladys Sturman’s house in Calabasas is jammed to the high ceiling with 400 boxes crammed with documents, newspaper clippings, scrapbooks, memoirs, photos and assorted memorabilia, a veritable treasure trove of the Jewish history in California and the Western United States.

This massive accumulation of history in the raw is the legacy of two self-made historians. William M. Kramer and Norton B. Stern started to collect and preserve, scrap by scrap, the records left by the pioneering Jews and their descendants, when that subject was still beneath academic notice.

Kramer was a larger-than-life rabbi, lawyer, professor, author, sometime actor and advertising pitchman, while Stern was an optometrist. Avid collectors, they were too busy to index and archive their material.

When Kramer, who survived Stern, died in 2004, every inch of his large Westwood home was covered with boxes, books, folders and files.

Two volunteers, who had also been bitten by the Western history bug, decided to take over the massive legacy. One is David W. Epstein, a longtime traveling manufacturer’s representative, who set up “a little typesetting business on the side” in the 1970s.

From typesetting, he branched out into publishing a number of small Jewish magazines, among them the Jewish Calendar for the San Fernando Valley, Being Jewish and the still active The American Rabbi.

In the early 1990s, after Stern’s death, Epstein took over the production end of Western States Jewish History, a quarterly magazine founded, and largely written, by Kramer and Stern.

When Kramer relinquished editorial control of the quarterly a few years later, Epstein teamed up with Sturman and they took over the publication.

Sturman had studied Jewish history under Kramer while taking her degree at the University of Judaism, and helped him with his research during his final years.

Both Epstein and Sturman are now listed as publishers and editors of Western States Jewish History, though she concentrates on the editorial side, and he on the production and business end.

The current Winter 2007 issue is devoted to the autobiography of the late Herb Brin, a feisty journalist and longtime publisher of the Heritage weekly.

Over the past few years, the two historians, amateurs no longer, have worked full and overtime cataloging, indexing and archiving the Kramer-Stern legacy, and their expertise has won the respect of prominent academicians.

They have been aided by 11 volunteers from Congregation Shir Ami in Woodland Hills, an $18,000 grant from the Jewish Community Foundation and $10,000 from Sturman’s own pocket.

The fruits of their labor have been moving by trucks over the last few weeks to leading academic institutions in the Los Angeles area, for the benefit of present and future generations of students and scholars.

Some 30,000 cataloged papers and 4,000 folders have been delivered to the special collections department of UCLA’s Young Library.

The University of Judaism has received more than 1,000 books.

Ephemera, very old books and pamphlets are destined for the Huntington Research Library in San Marino, in partnership with USC.

The 2,000-photo collection is going to the Autry National Center, which specializes in the history of the American West.

A large number of scrapbooks and diaries are being divided between the Autry and the Huntington.

Sturman says that it will take her another year to organize Kramer’s personal writings, which, she hopes, will be the basis for some ambitious student’s doctoral thesis.

Professor David N. Myers, director of the UCLA Center for Jewish Studies, is greatly impressed by the passion and skill the Epstein-Sturman team brought to their task.

“The material we have received at UCLA is exceptionally well organized and a real treasure for scholars,” he said. “Gladys and David have done a heroic job.”

Epstein projects that much of the material and its database will be available in the future on the Web sites of the participating institutions and on his own.

The 69-year-old Woodland Hills resident has also evolved into a popular lecturer on the pioneer Jews of the West, among them merchants, madams and hookers.

“I’m not a scholar, I’m a storyteller,” Epstein classifies himself. “For thousands of years, we Jews have survived because we passed on our stories.

American Jews don’t do that anymore, we’ve become too sophisticated, so we’re becoming Jewishly illiterate.”

Stephen Sass, president of the Jewish Historical Society of Southern California, has some reservations about the Kramer-Stern trove going to outside academic institutions.

“Much of the material came from members of the Jewish community, and I hope might stay within the community,” Sass said. “I hope our organization can be involved and we can work together.”

Epstein responded that he and Sturman purposely gave the material to prestigious academic institutions, where both Jewish and non-Jewish scholars would have easy access.

“I don’t want Jews to be written out of Western states history as we were out of medieval history,” he said.

Sturman observed that the Jewish Historical Society has not yet put its own archives in order, while Sass noted that his membership has been focusing on the rehabilitation of the historic Breed Street Shul in Boyle Heights and was preparing an oral history project.

To close on a historical note, here’s an abbreviated item from San Francisco’s Daily Alta Californian, dated June 23, 1851, which proves that the pioneer Jews were not solely occupied with establishing dry goods stores and houses of worship.

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Just breathe: Herzog legacy lives on with new wines

When Eugene Herzog was driven from Czechoslovakia by the communist regime in 1948, he was forced to leave behind his wineries. With little money to his name and his family in tow, he moved to Brooklyn and took a job at a small kosher winery. But the types of wine they sold horrified him: sweet, syrupy Concord grape, produced locally with lots of sugar to raise the alcohol content.

As a vintner with experience in kosher and non-kosher labels, Herzog knew real wine. After all, his grandfather, Philip Herzog, had made wine for Emperor Franz-Joseph, who had made him a baron.

By 1958, Eugene Herzog had inherited the winery, calling it Royal Wines. The next few decades were an era of sweet wine, with boldly unapologetic ad campaigns such as, “Wine so sweet you can cut it with a knife” and “the sweeter the better,” solidifying — sullying — kosher wine’s reputation — until today.

No wonder why when last Passover a man ordered thousands of dollars worth of the finest wines from the new Herzog winery in Oxnard, he included a case of Créme of Concord Malaga. “Sir, why, among all these wines are you ordering this sweet stuff?” asked Joseph Herzog, the youngest of Eugene’s grandsons, who runs the Oxnard winery, gift shop and its gourmet restaurant, Tierra Sur. “This is what we always drank at our seder,” the man, a secular Jew, told him.

“But that’s because you had to drink that,” Herzog argued. “There were no other kosher wines then. Today, you can drink good wine at your Seder, kosher wine, red wine. I’m sure your father and grandfather would have done the same.”
This wine aficionado, according to Herzog, just shrugged and went ahead with his purchase.

It’s hard to fight tradition.

But that’s what the Herzog family — and the entire kosher wine industry — is trying to do: change how people perceive kosher wine.

“Kosher wine has the baggage of being thought of as sweet wine or blessed wine. People hear it’s blessed, and they don’t want to taste it. We want to change the image.”

Herzog is just one of many kosher labels around the world that hope to change the image of kosher wine. It’s a two-pronged battle: The first is to change the perception of kosher wines in the mainstream world; the second is to change the kosher wine drinker’s palate to appreciate finer wines.

Consider this: Before Passover, many supermarkets feature Herzog wines in a special display in the front of the store. “They’ll buy the wine and then come back [after Passover] and ask where is the Baron Herzog?” Joseph Herzog said. “When they’re shown to the kosher section, they won’t buy it again.”

“We’re trying to get our wines in non-kosher sections,” he said. Stores like Trader Joe’s don’t separate out kosher wines. “We’re trying to make wines where people say, ‘Wow! I never knew kosher wine is that good!’ It’s made the same, the only difference is that Orthodox and Shabbat-observant people make it.”

Which is not exactly true. While kosher wine and non-kosher wine mostly use the same ingredients — except for animal-based fining products and uncertified yeasts — and they utilize the same winemaking process, kosher wine must be made only by Sabbath-observant Jews. This is because in biblical times, wine was used in idolatry, so rabbis forbade use of any wine or grape juice that had been handled by a non-Jew.

Today, a non-Jew cannot have touched uncooked grape products for them to be kosher. How can anyone drink kosher wine then?

Most commercial kosher wine is pasteurized, or cooked (mevushal). Like a number of other high-end kosher wineries around the world, Baron Herzog Royal Wineries label, started in 1985, sells a limited amount of nonpasteurized wine — for example, its new port and pinot noir, which could not survive the cooking process — but those products have limited usage for religious Jews, for example, who might be worried about a non-Jewish housekeeper or guest touching the bottle.

For the most part, kosher wines from around the world — Australia, Spain, France, Italy and, of course, Israel — have been reviewed well by wine critics and have scored competitively against their non-kosher counterparts.

But the main consumers of kosher wines are still people who keep kosher. Do the dry, refined wines appeal to them?

Gracing many an Orthodox Shabbat table as regular as gefilte fish is the iridescent blue glass of Bartenura, a sweet, bubbly libation with a low alcoholic content, that tastes more like fizzy cotton candy than wine.

“What’s happening in the food world is happening in the wine world,” said Herzog, referring to the gourmet revolution that has influenced many kosher consumers. “There’s a new generation who are interested in drier wines,” he said, noting that there are many people becoming kosher who want the same type of wines they had when they weren’t observant.

As to others who prefer grape juice, dessert wines like muscat (very popular) and wine-cooler-like liquid — those who don’t know any better — Joseph Herzog said the company produces “stepping-stone” wines before they go for the big leagues.

“People are afraid to try cabernet. Real dry wine that dries out your whole mouth,” he said “We’re trying to get them educated into the better wines and change the meaning of kosher wine.”

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