Word: heckshers
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Jewish Max Hecksher was a prosperous clothing manufacturer in Hamburg 20 years ago. Aryan Rose Hoga was a maid in his house. When post-War inflation in Germany was about to wipe out thrifty Rose's savings, Herr Hecksher converted her marks into dollars, advised her to go to the U.S. So Rose Hoga started life afresh as a cook in Milwaukee, again saved her money...
Last year she learned that Nazis, having ruined the Hecksher business, had put Max Hecksher in a concentration camp. Rose Hoga went to elderly Harry Bragarnick, a Jewish merchant famed in Milwaukee for his good works. She offered to put up $1,000 of her savings for expenses if he would get the Heckshers and their son Helmut out of Germany. Harry Bragarnick told Rose Hoga to keep her money, got busy himself...
Last week Max Hecksher and his wife arrived in Milwaukee. On the way, they had found a job in London for 17-year-old Helmut. Herr Hecksher, unbroken at 60, had just $2 in his pocket when at last he saw Rose's beaming face upon the station platform. Said he, safe in a furnished room which Rose provided...
...Manhattan court ordered pink-cheeked, white-whiskered Realtor-Philanthropist August Hecksher, 88, to continue paying plump, blonde Operasinger Frieda Hempel, 51, $15,000 a year for the rest of her life. Thus aired was an interesting domestic relationship. In 1926 Singer Hempel divorced her husband, supposedly to wed Millionaire Hecksher. Year later, she sued Millionaire Hecksher for breaking an oral contract to pay her $48,000 a year to "sing for no one but him." Philanthropist Hecksher settled with a written contract to pay her $15,000 a year for life, in return for which he retrieved numerous letters...
...short comings of his sonnet on the death of King George V,* England's sad, frail Poet Laureate John Masefield explained that it was written while he had a bad chest cold, scrawled out with his left hand because California handshakers had disabled his right. The Hecksher Foundation for Children launched a drive for winter relief funds in New York City with a poem composed by chipper, white-bearded Philanthropist August Hecksher, 87. Excerpt: The stars, the stars shine brighter, Search thine immortal soul, Thy heart, thy heart beats lighter, What first we need is - COAL. In the weekly...