When Choosing is not an Option

Someone at work yesterday, who has read my blog, asked me why my family chose to go to Portland, Oregon, particularly since remaining frum was such hard work. Herewith my explanation to her.

Post World War II saw a huge increase in the number of people migrating to the United States. Around the end of 1948 the US government put into affect a ruling that basically said that those coming from Europe had to have guarantors or they could not come. Or, they needed to prove that they had sufficient money of their own to hold themselves out until well established here. No visa would be issued otherwise. A guarantor promised to provide housing and a job for the new immigrant. New York was thus closed to immigrants unless they could provide documentation of a legitimate guarantor.

My family had no such guarantor (and they sure didn't have the requisite money either) as the only people they knew in New York were themselves new immigrants who could not serve as guarantors. The Jewish Community Center in Portland pledged to stand as guarantor for 20 families coming from Europe. Now my parents spoke many languages between them but English was not one of them. Someone in the DP camp where they were then residing could read English. A map of the US was found and this person located Portland. Looking on the map Portland seemed to be a hop, skip and a jump from New York. My parents' reasoning was that with Portland so close to New York it would not be long before they could go from Portland to settle in New York. Unfortunately, what was found on the map was Portland, Maine. No one assumed that there could be another Portland. What my parents did know was that they had to leave Europe. Visas to Portland were issued and off we went.

My mother and her sister were the only ones who came back after the war from their family. My uncle was the only one who came back from his family. Of my father's only remaining brothers, one was trapped by the Russians in Romania and the other was in Israel, to which our families could not get visas. Where my mother went was where my aunt would go. My parents emigrated first and then came my aunt.

And no, there was no hopping or skipping to New York. So we stayed in Portland and did what we had to to remain frum.

Choice? Immigrants had few choices back then. I would imagine that a lot of Jews found themselves settling all over the US for reasons very similar to my parents' reason.