In Grandma Annette's book,
Long Ago and Far Away, she mentions a peddler named Meyer Ettenberg...
"...our favorite peddler was Ettenberg. Meyer Ettenberg
was a short, rotund little Jew who ran a store in Minneapolis. Twice a year,
fall and spring, he loaded goods into a covered wagon and made regular rounds
to steady customers he had acquired through the years. We looked forward to his
coming.
On
a day in the spring or fall, Ettenberg’s big covered wagon came rolling into
the yard. One of the boys would help him to unhitch and put the horses in the
barn. He never needed to ask if he could stay the night. Before supper, he
would make a number of trips, bringing in on his back the great packs of goods.
They were so big and bulky and he was such a short man, it was a strange sight.
He would have to stoop way over to keep them balanced. He looked like some
gnome working its way into the house. He was a genial urbane man and it was fun
to listen to the talk during meals and while my mother was looking at the goods
and choosing what she wanted.
After
supper he would undo some packs for her inspection, I remember it as good durable stuff. It was mostly
sheets, blankets, towels, work clothing, winter underwear, even sometimes,
fancy women’s wear. In the morning, mother would finish her selection. Her bill
was always between thirty and forty dollars. (today in 2014 is $705.-940.)
One
year my brother Willie had a strange encounter with Ettenberg. For some reason,
Ettenberg wanted to sell one of his horses, Pete. Willie, thinking of marrying
and running a farm, bought him. Ettenberg bought another horse from some
neighbor and went on his way.
A week later, he again drove his wagon into
the yard. He wanted “Petey” back. He didn’t like the new horse. Willie didn’t
agree. “You asked me to buy him,” he said, “now I want to keep him.” The scene
that followed that evening in our dining room was like an act from a comedy. We
all sat around the room looking on as rotund little Ettenberg paced back and
forth, tears rolling, as he begged Willie to sell him back his “Petey”. “I want
my Petey back”, he wept, and “I need him. I’ll do anything for you, anything,
if you’ll only let me have my Petey back.” Young Willie sat stubbornly until my
father at last tired of it all, and spoke to him. “All right”, Willie said,
“you can have Petey but for ten dollars more than the price he paid.” Something
of a shylock, my brother Willie. Ettenberg agreed with joy, rushing over and
embracing him, to my brother’s horror.
The
story of little, kindly Meyer Ettenberg ends on a wry note. One spring he
failed to make his usual stop with us. In early summer, Al, being in
Minneapolis, made it a point to look him up at his store. He found that the
poor man had been convicted of a felony and was serving time in Stillwater
State Prison. This was sad news for everyone. We never saw our genial little
peddler again."
Here is my attempt in telling the rest of his story-
The Peddler~ Meyer Ettenberg
Meyer
Ettenberg was born 26 August 1876, in Russia. He was of Jewish descent. Most
likely coming to America to escape the repression of the Jewish peoples during
the late 1880’s, he immigrated to the United States in 1884 with his parents
Simon and Neta Ettenberg. They are all listed in the 1895 Minneapolis,
Minnesota census. Both father and son are employed as peddlers. This would go
along with the story from Grandma’s book, saying he was the peddler who visited
her father’s farm numerous times during the early 1900’s. On 9 July, 1900 he is
married to Rose or Rachael Abramowitz, she is also of Russian Jewish descent.
They had three children during the next few years: Leo Simon, Nathan H. and Benjamin
Phineus. Leo was a pharmacist and then a chiropractor in Denver, CO. Nathan
spent much of his adult life in North Hollywood, CA and Ben from 1930 until his
death in the1970’s, was in a state hospital.
In
1910-1920, Meyer was a clothing store owner. During this time he was involved
in a scandalous affair of arson and fraud. Apparently he conspired with an
employee to set fire to his establishment to receive insurance monies. The
first fire incident was in February 1918, completely ruining his store. He
collected the insurance monies of $10,000. Then in June of 1918, he had opened
a new store in a new rental building and it too resulted in a fire which again
destroyed the contents of his store. He was in the process of procuring the
insurance monies when the two fires came to the attention of law enforcement in
Minneapolis. Why he would think to set another fire so shortly after the first,
is unknown. (or why did he do this terrible deed!) Desperate people do desperate things I suppose. The story is listed
in the law reports in The Northwestern Reporter, pg. 51. It is a fascinating
story of lies, deceit, bribery, intrigue and conspiracy. His employee confessed
to the arson, along with the fact that he was doing so under the asking and
planning of his employer, Meyer Ettenberg. He was paid $400.00 for the
task and to make sure no blame came upon Meyer, who was in Chicago when the
fire was set. Sneaky! Not only did he plan and pay for these arson’s, but he
and his attorney paid someone (Herman Liss, a police magistrate to the courts)
to try to bribe the employee to change his testimony and lie regarding his
association with Meyer Ettenberg. They were all convicted but I don’t find how
much time any of them spent in prison. Originally Meyer was sentenced to 1-7
years in prison and since there are no records that I can find, he must have
spent at least a couple of years in the clink! The final court records dealing
with this case are in February 1918, after exhausting appeals etc., I am
supposing that their sentences were carried out. So that would be his second turn in the klink!
We find
Meyer in the 1920 and 1930 census, he is listed as a traveling merchant or
salesman. He made approximately $10,000 a year which today, in 2014, would be
about $135,000; he must have been a very good salesman seeing as how this was prior to and during the depression! He owns his home @ 707
Bradford Ave. in Minneapolis, Minn. with a value of $6,000. It appears that
Meyer was quite well to do. In the 1940
census, he is alone, as his wife Rachael had died in February 1939 and is now
a tailor in a tailor shop. He is 64. Sometime
between 1940 and 1942, he married a woman named Emma as listed in the City
Directory for 1942. He passed away 28
May 1947 in Minneapolis at the age of 71.
And so
concludes the tale of the peddler, Meyer
Ettenberg.
As a rule, we go about with masks, we go about looking honest, and we are able to conceal ourselves all through the day.
- speech 1902, Mark Twain Speaks for Himself