A Jewish Girl in the Weimar Republic by Stephanie Orfali

Author:Stephanie Orfali
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ronin Publishing

The Stoewer

XVII. Transportation And The Factory

I have already written about our elegant horsedrawn coach, and our first car, the Thurikum, a car similar to a Model-A Ford that was lit by carbide lamps. These lamps gave off a weak glimmer that could be seen by oncoming traffic, but did not light the road, which made night driving a nightmare, especially when we were with Papa, who was night blind. We always planned our trips so that we would arrive home in daylight. But, more often than not, we had a flat, and it took Papa the better part of an hour to change the tire. Then we had to crawl along at ten miles an hour in the darkness, and usually landed on the shoulder of the road or even in a ditch. Once we had to stay overnight in a hotel less than 20 miles from Nuernberg.

The Thurikum was very drab looking even in those early years, and was later exchanged for a posh Stoewer convertible. Because the Thurikum looked so shabby, we had it to ourselves most of the time, but the elegant Stoewer that replaced the old car belonged to the business and was shared by the three Braun families. As my cousins got their own driver’s licenses, we rarely used it anymore.

By 1926, we were completely without any car. Papa was sick and tired of the daily differences with his brother and nephews. He also was afraid for his own sons, who would have to work with their much older cousins when they were ready to enter the business. So he left the furniture store to the other Braun families and kept the neglected furniture factory in Fuerth for himself.

The factory was about 10 miles from our house, and Papa was too impatient to use public transportation. Money for a new car was not available when he had to invest and reinvest in the factory, so he bought himself a motorcycle. He enjoyed it very much, but Mama was disappointed because she was too heavy and clumsy to ride on the back seat.

We children were happy to ride with Papa one at a time, though he spilled us quite often, always cautioning before a fall, “Vorsicht, Stefferle, wir fallen.” (Be careful, Steffi, we are going to fall.) I got bruised, but continued to ride with Papa whenever he invited me.

He liked to take me along when he went to one or the other of the sawmills in the vicinity to buy wood. Our factory made furniture from plywood, laminated with a thin layer of precious hardwood showing an interesting grain. I helped him choose hardwood that would make interesting patterns. Houses in Germany were built with few or no closets, and the most important feature of the bedroom was the huge wardrobe. The doors of this wardrobe were decorated with intricate patterns of thin layers of hardwood. I became an expert in wood and in furniture making. The boys were still too young to show great

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