The 1918-1919 “flu” epidemic took between 2,800 and 7,500 Nebraska lives, 974 of them in Omaha. On July 4, 1919, the weekly Omaha Jewish Bulletin published “Breaking Lives and Homes for Profit.”
It read:
Fanny Skulke came with her husband to the United States from Lomas, “a Polish city that was being ravaged by the Russians, the Austrians and Hun hordes.” They went “through the heartaches and sufferings that no human lips are able to tell.” In New York when the “rays of happiness were breaking into their little home on Grand street, the flu came and took her life companion away.” Fanny, a widow, was “forced to work in a New York sweat shop in order to make her living.” Fanny’s sister Rebecca, living in Omaha, was the mother of six children, Sam, Joe, Minnie, Annie Lena, and Isadore, all under the age of 12. Rebecca’s husband Max Zwiebach was a tailor. They lived on Charles street in Omaha. Rebecca sent for Fanny in February 1919.
Frank Rubenstein a Union Pacific railroad chef lived with his wife and two small children on North 24th street. In February 1919 the “flu took away Frank’s wife and his oldest child leaving the unfortunate father with the little baby, David.
David Spector, with his wife Bluma, operated a grocery and bakery at 1206 North 24th street, very close to where the Rubenstein’s lived. Bluma took in the child for which Frank, the father, paid $12.50. Soon afterwards Rubenstein moved into the Spector’s house and paid $9 more.” He was on the rails six days a week. It is said that the Spector’s have tremendous influence over Rubenstein. A partner of Spector’s asserted that Spector owes to Rubenstein $1,000. When Rubenstein is in the city he works for Spector in the bakery and the store. “To Spector, Frank Rubenstein is a sort of a ‘gold mine,’ a splendid income, a good thing.”
In late March Fanny and her sister were in the Spector bakery and Frank Rubenstein was at the register taking cash. It was a case of love at first sight. Frank told Fanny “of his love for her and how happy she would be if she would only marry him; of the beautiful home he would furnish for her, of the grand furniture in storage, of his nice earnings and what a splendid mother she would make for his child, and how happy they could all be.” Fanny “listened thinking of her own miseries…and sympathizing with the unfortunate orphan that needed a mother’s care” said yes. On April 14th Orthodox Rabbi Morris N. Taxon “made the poor, unfortunate Franny Skulke the wife of Frank Rubenstein.”
Frank told Fanny “We will have to stay with the Spector’s for about two weeks and this will give me a chance to fix a home for you.” Frank went on his “usual trip [as chef on railroad] and giving his wife the check representing his wages (this check usually went to the Spectors.) From that moment a new hell opened for poor Fanny. Bluma and David Spector would make life miserable for Fanny.”
Fanny a recent immigrant, a widow of the flu epidemic, moved to Omaha, was in a spiral of human despair and trauma. Opportunism lead to errors of judgment in seeking security. Apparently the Spectors’ loss of $12.50 childcare and $9 boarder cost, $21.50, is worth $327 in 2020 dollars adjusted for inflation, disrupted and quickly unmade a marriage.
Two months later, in July 1919, Fanny petitioned the Douglas County District Court for a divorce from Frank and asked for $25,000 in damages for alienation of affection from David and Bluma Spector and Peshe Iseman.
According to the 1930 census Frank married Bernice; they were raising his 12 year old son David; and he was still a U.P. chef. Fanny disappeared. Perhaps she remarried and left Omaha.
I would like to hear from Skulke, Rubenstein, Spector, Iseman, Taxon, and Zweibach (or Zweiback) family members about their families’ 1918 flu stories.
Republished from San Diego Jewish World