..inte: Brenda Meckler ..intr: Dorothy Pickelner ..da: 1984 ..cp: 1991.004.001.06 Scene from Brenda Meckler’s pageant, To Be Free, 1954, commemorating 300 years of Jewish life in America. ..ca: ..ftxt: An Interview with Brenda Meckler August 30, 1984 Transcriptionist: Carol Ruttan Interviewer: Dorothy Pickelner Arizona Jewish Historical Society Log For Brenda Meckler Interview Pages 1 Arrived Phoenix - age 18 2 Father planned to farm 2 Means of travel 3 First apartment - 2nd Street & Pierce Sam Wilson 4 Father opened clothing store 4 Passed State teacher's exam 4-5 First teaching job - Laveen 5-6 Citizenship papers - 1921 7 527 East Adams house 7 Witness to citizenship Morris Meckler 7-8 Abraham Goodman family 8 Sold first story American Hebrew 9-10 Jewish life Pearl Edelman Harry Friedman 10 Sunday school superintendent Philip Raamone 10 Brenda as Sunday School teacher 11 2nd Street & Culver temple 11-12 Social life Dr. Liknaitz Pearl Edelman Beatrice Miller Ms. Cohen Ruth Schwartz 13-14 Phoenix Little Theater Katherine McCluskey Lillias Walton Beth Bannister Corrine Bledsoe Dr. Howell Randolph Josephine Randolph Vira Driscoll Imogene Jennings Sarah Rosenthal Emil Wachtel 15 Rabbi Dow 15 Split in Beth Israel 15 Conservatives want own synagogue 4th St. & Fillmore 15 Morris Meckler becomes president of Beth El 15 Rabbi Dow officiates in 1930's 16 Rabbi Barack hired Rabbi Barack 16 Brenda involved with Phoenix Little Theater; a charter member, not a founder Mrs. Bartlett Heard 17 Theater moves to Heard Carriage House - McDowell & Central 17 later remodeled to present theater 17 Brenda becomes a writer 17 Later hires agent to get work published 18 Still works for community; directs plays for Junior Council; big event 19 First important magazine - aid of Pat Murphy Pat Murphy who writes to H.L. Mencken H.L. Mencken about Brenda 19 Friend urges her to write American Mercury 20 Writes and sells "Ohio River Days" to American Mercury Imogene Jennings 20 "Poor White" sold to Plain Talk Mary Boyer Magazine in later anthology 21 1983 - Brenda's short stories collected Edith Goldberg in a book by beth El librarian as a fund-raising project for Beth El Library 21 Name changes: Goldie Weisberg changed to Brenda Weisberg in Hollywood; in 1952 changed to Brenda Weisberg Meckler 22 In late 20's, 30's (?) Brenda publishes and edits Anglo-Jewish newspaper "The Southwestern Jewish Star" Harold Goldberg 22 No copies available 22 Carries a variety of news and articles 23 Ledgers and accounts 23 Brenda goes to Hollywood by invitation of friend Marian Primock 23 How she became a studio writer Bobby Breen 24 Stories sent to Sol Lesser by Selma Breuner Sol Lesser 24 Her doctor employers in Phoenix urge her Dr. Ketcherside to go to Los Angeles Dr. French Dr. Joseph Bank 25 Writes "Alice in Hollywood" - unsuccessful 25-26 How she got to Briskin brothers studio; producers 26 Hired to write "idea stories" 26 Joins ScreenwritersGuild 27 Struggles as a writer 27 Gets new agent Universal Studio 27 Difficulties with contracts Ken Goldsmith 27 Free-lance writer R.K.O. 27 Parents come to live in L.A. 28 Marriage to Morris Meckler 28 Returns to Phoenix 1962 29 Brenda talks about Morris: 29 Morris became important volunteer worker in social services in Phoenix 29 Helps needy 30 Helps TB patients in Sunnyslope 31 Respected as jeweler and diamond merchant 31-33 Himann Kivel story - gave Beth El first Sefer Torah 33 Kivel a quiet, unobtrusive man; frugal yet charitable Bert Goldman 33-34 Health poor - leaves important will - Florence Frank complications Cele Andre 34 "Kivel Geriatric Center" - his memorial 34 Founders Harry Stone & others 34-35 Administrators Celia Bramson Hirsch Kaplan 36 Brenda as program director Jack Benny Thomas L. Thomas 38 Granddaughter of Sholom Aleichem 38-40 Jack Benny's father Mr. Kubelsky 40-42 Directed at Phoenix Little Theater "Operation Remember" Mrs. J.L.B. Alexander Rosemary de Camp Dodie Cookson 43 Production of Tercentenary Pageant - 1953 "To Be Free" 44 Brenda - writer/director 44 Assistant producer Lois Shreiber 44 Cast of 100 44 Hadassah Chorus Lidabelle Guberman 45 Children Bruce Mallin Bruce Gross 45 Morris' family a legacy for Brenda Frances Firestein Ida Stocker 3 Stocker grandsons: Steven, David, Mark Firestein children: Sandy Garvey, Charles Garvey great grandchildren: Jonathan & Jeffrey Firestein 45 What lies ahead? 46 New book "Bend in the Road: An Exploration" - waiting to be published 46 Quotation from T.S. Eliot Brenda Meckler Interview PICKELNER: Good morning, Brenda. I'm very happy that we're together. MECKLER: I am too, Dorothy. Good morning. PICKELNER: We're recording this for the Arizona Jewish Historical Society. We would love to get your impressions of the way things were when you first came to Phoenix. From where did you come and how did it come about? MECKLER: Directly from Cincinnati after 12 years on a farm southwest of Cincinnati and we came because of my father's health. He was told that he could not withstand another winter back there and to come to Arizona. His doctor told him there were two cities and he could choose either one; one was called Phoenix and the other was "Tuck-son". We flipped a coin and it came out Phoenix. And that's how we came. PICKELNER: Well, we're very happy that you came. Were you the only child? MECKLER: Yes, I was. PICKELNER: How old were you - about to go into school? MECKLER: I was long out of school. I was 18. PICKELNER: You were 18. what was there In Phoenix for an 18 year old? MECKLER: Well, for someone who had grown up on a farm it was not difficult. It was not disappointing In terms of what there was to do. of course, I had hoped to be able to teach here. So, soon after we came, my father bought some land because he thought he would continue as a farmer. He bought 40 acres of alfalfa on Southern Avenue. At that time that was way out in the country. After eight months he had to sell it because irrigation was necessary for farming and this was something he could not take because the moisture was too much for him. PICKELNER: What was your first Impression on coming from the big city of Boston? Did you come here from Boston? MECKLER: No, from Cincinnati. We came to Boston directly from Russia. PICKELNER: I see. MECKLER: My first impression was what a dismal place. PICKELNER: How did you come? MECKLER: By Southern Pacific coach and we had to change at Maricopa because Phoenix was not on the main line railroad yet at that time. Those who came by Santa Fe had to change in Williams. We came by Southern Pacific and changed in Maricopa, which in itself was a pretty dismal place, just desert, dry desert as far as the eye could see - a tiny little settlement. PICKELNER: In what year was this? MECKLER: 1918. I always remember my age because I was born with the century. PICKELNER: That's easy for you to remember. How did you manage coming into a brand-new small community complete strangers? MECKLER: Well, to begin with we were dressed as one would dress in Cincinnati in mid-September and it was very hot and very dusty. My father asked me to talk to the railroad agent and find out if there were any Jewish businessmen in the area. His English was pretty good but he would never trust himself with a new person and a new set of vocabulary. So I was the spokesman. And he told me, yes, if we went in a certain direction we would come to Washington Street, turn to the right and we'd find a lot of Jewish stores. That's what we did. PICKELNER: That was a fortunate move. Was it difficult to find a place to live? MECKLER: As it happened, the first store that we entered that seemed to us to be a Jewish store was owned, including the building, by Mr. Sam Wilson. He didn't have a Jewish name exactly but he was Jewish and it was quite obvious that he was. As it turned out they had an apartment in their house. They had built an apartment as part of the house. They had transformed it into an apartment. He drove us out there and that was our first place to live. It was on 2nd Street and Pierce. The street was very dusty, and when it rained it was very muddy. PICKELNER: That gives us some idea. How big do you think Phoenix was in those days? MECKLER: I would say under 30,000. PICKELNER: What did your father do after the acreage didn't work out, the alfalfa? MECKLER: He did what every Jewish person in the area did who was not a professional, he went Into the clothing business. He called his place the Farmers and Mechanics to attract the working trade. He opened a store on Washington Street. We had gone from the Pierce Street place to a farm. Then when that didn't work out we found an apartment on West Washington Street. I went to find out what I needed to do to teach and I needed to take the State examination. I passed the State examination but that wasn't enough. I was not a citizen; in Ohio it didn't matter, but in Arizona it did. I was not a citizen because I was 18 years old and I needed to be 21 to apply for citizenship, to be interviewed. The reason this had not been done was because my father was a farmer in Ohio and a very busy man and it was never the right time to go in and apply for what was known as second papers. He had his first papers. If he had taken them out at that time I would have become a citizen automatically under [unintelligible]. But by the time this happened that law had been invalidated. PICKELNER: Were you able to get work of any kind, Brenda? MECKLER: Well, as I said I applied for the teacher's examination almost as soon as I came and I had my first teaching Job before we sold the farm. Laveen, which was not far from us, had a small schoolhouse up to the fourth or fifth grades and the teacher had become ill. I was asked to take that on the strength of my credentials and my past experience. This was a one-room school but for four grades instead of eight as mine had been. When the teacher returned they wanted me to continue as a sort of, what shall I say, teacher of all trades -wherever I was needed -- at the [unintelligible] school that was about a mile and a half In the other direction, but I couldn't get a certificate to teach because of my non-citizenship. An attorney who had become a friend of the family tried to get something attached to a bill in the State Legislature to make an exception, to waive it in my case but the House and the Senate were fighting each other and killing one another's bills, so that didn't go. In the meantime they had me teaching and they finally In desperation -- they had no salary recorded for me, but they attached it to a voucher that included janitorial work. That's how I got paid. PICKELNER: Did you ever take out citizenship papers in your own right? MECKLER: Yes. In 1921 my father and I together on the same day took out our citizenship papers. I almost didn't make it. PICKELNER: You didn't make the citizenship exam? What happened? MECKLER: I was young and rather feisty, I guess, and enjoying the interrogation. I felt perfectly safe and I didn't think that anything could happen to me. But a couple of years before that, I don't remember the exact date, I think it may have been in 1919 or 1920 when seven or eight assemblymen in New York, were elected to the assembly by due process on the Socialist ticket. The Socialist ticket was not outlawed in the United States any more than the Communist ticket was. But they were refused their seats. It caused a great uproar and I felt impelled to participate in their uproar. I wrote something that appeared in the Phoenix Press. It never occurred to me that that had anything to do with my questioning about Russia. What did I know about the Bolsheviks and about the government there and so on? I replied, "Only what I read in the papers." Finally, I glanced over at the table of the examiner, a Mr. Jones, who'd come up from Tucson and the judge was sitting In Tucson and sent up here. Attached to a clipboard was a yellowing piece of newspaper print and it was what I had written about the injustice to these men in New York who were, incidentally, of course, finally admitted. PICKELNER: I guess it was close enough to the Russian Revolution that they suspected everyone. MECKLER: Everybody who ever thought that Russia might be a viable answer to all our problems. Many of us did. Of course, we didn't sustain that belief very long. PICKELNER: That was quite an experience. MECKLER: I'd like to add a postscript to that. After I was finally passed and told to sit In another box for the constitution examination, my father was called up. The Judge asked him one question, "Are you the father of that young woman?" He said, "Yes, I am." He said, "Well, if we passed her, I'm sure you can make it." PICKELNER: That's a wonderful experience and I imagine many other immigrants were having the same trouble. Where did you finally settle, where was your home finally in Phoenix? MECKLER: When we finally found a permanent home, we bought a house at 527 East Adams Street because there was little vegetation there and the street was paved, so there was not as much dust. It was paved for a short way. We lived there until I left Phoenix. PICKELNER: Were there other immigrants coming or other settlers coming that became part of your life? MECKLER: Not immediately; I suppose there were, but not any that we knew. Incidentally, Morris Meckler was one of our witnesses when my father and I applied for citizenship. Many years later he became my husband, as you probably know. Not too long after we were settled in Adams Street -- by that time we were well into the 20's, and I no longer was teaching, I was helping in the business -- three families from Cincinnati, friends, one of them very old and close friends, the Abraham Goodman family, with their children; another family whose name is Miller, they had one little boy; and another was Simpson and they had no children I think; of course, the Goodmans had several children, a son and three daughters I believe, who are still living here; they all stayed with us. Somehow we managed in that rather small house by today's standards. The Goodmans remained. They had all been bound for California, but the Goodmans remained. one of the couples went to California and the other became totally disillusioned with the whole aspect of the West and returned to Cincinnati. PICKELNER: Did the Goodman children become part of the community? MECKLER: Very much so. PICKELNER: Did you always remain after you helped your father in the business; was that your only work or did you do something else later on? MECKLER: I began to write a little. I think the first story I sold was to a very fine magazine which is no longer in existence to my knowledge; the American Hebrew. The B'nai B'rith had a magazine, a small glossy type and I sold some poetry to them. Everybody has to start as a poet, of course. In fact, I started as a poet at the age of 10. I had two poems published in the Cincinnati Post and they had the good sense to put my age under the name. PICKELNER: Well, that certainly augured well for the future because we know what a wonderful writer you have become. Was there any kind of Jewish life in this frontier town? MECKLER: Yes, there was and a very close life because Jewish families were certainly in the great minority. There were some who were already professionals. The postmaster, not when we came but not too long after, was Mr. Michaelson. His wife was very active In the Council of Jewish women. There was a Jewish council, I don't remember that this was In existence when we first came, but not too long afterward. one of the young women who became a very close friend of mine was Pearl Edelman. We were part of the Junior Council and were called upon when there was a fund-raising dinner that they gave. We were among the young waitresses. We thought that was a very, very honorable position to have. PICKELNER: Were there any people who stand out in your mind such as those we might call town characters or friends of yours? MECKLER: There were two who I might describe in that way without being pejorative at all, but they had certain characteristics that set them apart. One was Harry Friedman, sort of a Yiddish cowboy and a man who dealt In a small way in cattle trading and sold jewelry out of a box and was a go-between between saddle makers and saddle buyers. He took it upon himself to represent the Jewish community in a quasi-religious way, because In the beginning there was no one else. But that soon changed. He used to love to come out to the country when we were on the farm. He had friends there before we knew him; not Jewish friends, but because of his interest in cattle and so forth he met these people. They lived across the road from us and we became very good friends. When he came on Sunday mother always had a very, very elaborate dinner in quantity and in variety, because he had a prodigious appetite. PICKELNER: That's very interesting. who was the other? MECKLER: There was one other man who came later into our lives when we already had the temple so we're getting a little ahead of this, and that was Philip Raamone. His name was spelled R-a-a-m-o-n-e. He was a small man and seemed to be everywhere without any visible means of support, but I'm sure he had. He didn't depend on the community. He was available for things that no one else had time to do. When the Beth Israel Temple was built at 2nd Street and Culver he was asked to be superintendent of the Sunday School. He in turn asked me to be the teacher of the Sunday School. I used the only method I knew In which I could fulfill that task, that position. We celebrated every Jewish holiday with a dramatization of the holiday, which I would write in parts for all the children. One of them was Purim and that was a great time. There were one or two girls who were very excellent seamstresses and made themselves beautiful costumes. We borrowed a large wooden horse on wheels from the Boston store, which later became Diamonds. Hayman led him with Mordecai riding in state after Esther had saved the Jewish people. In that way we learned something about Jewish history. PICKELNER: Were your parents religious? Were they part of the religious activities? MECKLER: My father not at all. My father was an agnostic but when funds were being raised for the temple at 2nd Street and Culver -- the building had been purchased, it was not built for us -- he contributed and said that although he didn't need it those Jews who did and wanted it should have it. My mother was sort of on the edge. She had one contribution every year at the time of the high holidays, at the time of Rosh Hashanah. She constructed a twist loaf, a challah as we called them in three or four stories. It was quite large to accommodate so much super-structure. This was auctioned off and then was cut up and served at the temple. PICKELNER: That's a charming incident. Were you part of the general life of the community? MECKLER: Yes. Well, the social life at that time for me and for the family were other Jewish families. We met at one another's homes. There was one house that was especially nice to come to because they had built a new, very nice house with hardwood floors so the young people could dance. There was a piano too. Each time the hostess tried to outdo the other hostesses and so forth. But it was very nice and especially at the time of holidays. They were celebrated in that way until -- and this was before the first temple was built -- a Dr. Liknaitz was brought in. I remember his wife's name was Lillian. The hall above the Donofrio confectionery on Washington Street was engaged for services. Then eventually the 2nd Street and Culver temple was built and it was designed to serve every denomination and every shade of denomination, from the very Orthodox to the Reform. For a time it worked but eventually, of course, it ceased to work. PICKELNER: Who were your close friends as you were growing into young womanhood? MECKLER: In the beginning when my life was very much involved exclusively in the Jewish community, Pearl Edelman was one; Beatrice Miller was one, and there were two other very lovely young ladies, whose parents were In business. One was -- the last name was Cohen, I don't remember her first name; they were both very pretty girls. The other was Ruth Schwartz. She had a sister who was married to Philip Spitalny in Chicago - Philip Spitalny who had the all-girl orchestra, you know? PICKELNER: Yes. MECKLER: When I was in Chicago I visited them, actually stayed with them a couple of days. One of the things we used to do for self-entertainment was to dress up on Sunday and ride on the streetcar to East Lake Park and pack a picnic lunch. PICKELNER: Well, it certainly sounded like you were making do and having a good time at the same time. MECKLER: Yes, we were. And there were some young men too. In 1920 I had become involved in the Phoenix Little Theater. It was not Phoenix Little Theater at the time but it was growing, it was still an idea, because I had always been interested in the theater. When I was a kid I wanted to be an actress, a writer and a schoolteacher, in reverse order. I heard about Katherine Wisner McCluskey, a very lovely lady who had taught at Northwestern and who had come here actually for her husband's health. He was in a wheelchair; he had had a football injury and it permanently disabled him. Unfortunately, he was the invalid -- they were two wonderful people -- and she died before he did of an illness. So I became one of her students and through her I was in on the beginning of the Phoenix Players, which became the Phoenix Little Theater. Out of that I developed a whole new set of friends; some very, very lovely people who were also interested in the theater and some of whom were also studying with Katherine Wisner McCluskey, although they were older than I was. One was Lillias Walton, who is living in Prescott now. Remember I tried to call her? PICKELNER: Yes. MECKLER: And Beth Bannister who, with her husband and two friends, was killed in an automobile accident long years after when I was in Hollywood. These names would not arouse any memories in most people today, but they were very much a part of the theater as it grew and a very important and very wonderful part; and Corrine Bledsoe. This name is still known I'm sure - Dr. Howell and Josephine Randolph. They were very active in the theater, and Vira Driscoll. And above all, Imogene Jennings; the late Imogene Jennings, wife of the late Irving Jennings and related to Renz Jennings; the late Renz Jennings and Renz Jennings, Jr., who is now in politics. A Jewish young woman, Sarah Rosenthal, an attorney; and Emil Wachtel, an attorney, who met here and married, but unfortunately some years later divorced. But Sarah was also active in the theater, not on stage but behind the scenes, and was on stage as well. So this was a new circle and one which I enjoyed but I still of course retained my Jewish friends. Everything had grown outward; we no longer had to meet In one another's houses. We had a temple and in the course of time we had a synagogue. The division came about when Rabbi Dow came to Phoenix and he was a Schochet. The Orthodox people in the temple wanted Kashruth and wanted the temple to support the Schochet. A great many of them who did not care about Kashruth refused and that was the split. That became the divisive moment. I remember some of them -- Mr. Goodman. Three or four others met in the back of his store and decided to establish a Conservative-Orthodox synagogue. Morris Meckler became a part of that group, but not at that time. He continued with Beth Israel until he realized that the divisiveness was very firm and widening. He left -- he had been the treasurer there for several years -- and he joined the other group. The search started for a building and they found a building at 4th Street and Fillmore which had been a church. They bought it and that was the home of Beth El until Morris became president and they decided that it was time to strike out for a larger place. The community was growing and Rabbi Dow served as the first rabbi, although he was not an ordained rabbi, but he served in many ways. This took place when the McDowell building was undertaken and was already partially built. I was not here at that time. I had already left. This was in the 30's you see. When I left in 1937 there was no Beth El synagogue at McDowell and 3rd Avenue. Now they brought in an ordained rabbi, the first one, Rabbi Barack. So there were the two groups. I think there had been a fire during my absence at 4th and Fillmore. I think that the Beth Israel at that time offered the use of their temple and it was accepted, of course. PICKELNER: Brenda, to go back a little bit: Were you an actress as well as a director? HECKLER: Oh, yes. I was an actress first, and I was among the very first charter members. I think I'm now the oldest living charter member. I have said that many times and no one has contested my claim. Many times I'm referred to, in print as well, as a founder. I was not a founder. I was very close to the founders. Katherine Wisner McCluskey and Harry Bain were the two who first began to think seriously of a community theater. The little theater movement had already started burgeoning over the country and Harry Bain was fresh out of Yale, had been a member of the Baker Workshop and had written a play, which was later produced at the Little Theater. With them Mrs. Bartlett Heard, who was the daughter-in-law of Mr. and Mrs. Dwight Heard, Joined this group and Horace Button, who had been a Shakespearean actor in stock company and maybe other places too, I don't know -- they became really the founders. PICKELNER: Where did you put on your plays? HECKLER: Well, Mrs. Bartlett Heard was on the founding committee, there was an easy access to the elder Heards and they called upon them and asked if they could be granted the use of what had been the carriage house -- which today would be called a garage -- on the grounds at Central Avenue and McDowell where the Phoenix Little Theater stands now, together with the library and the art museum. This has become a city group and will be turned over to the city I think in 1999. At least that is the condition of the whole arrangement. it was remodeled. Enough funds were raised to put in benches, later folding chairs. PICKELNER: Brenda, you not only were a dramatist, so to speak, and became very much involved in the Little Theater, but didn't you also add much to your literary life by becoming a writer? Tell us how that all came about. MECKLER: Well, the first thing that I sold, I believe I told you that earlier, was a story to the American Hebrew. I think that is the last time I ever submitted anything directly to a magazine. It was later on as I became more involved in writing, especially In Hollywood, I always had an agent, even for short fiction. PICKELNER: Was your dramatic activity confined just to the Little Theater or did you let the community benefit by it? MECKLER: I made a contribution to the community. The degree of benefit, of course, would have to be estimated by them. I directed a play for the Junior Council of Jewish Women every year and it was a great deal of fun; we all enjoyed it. I used people who have become very prominent - they were young then - that are adults and grandparents, many of them. Herman Kroloff was one and the girl who later became his wife, Toots Adler; Bess and Esther, and I think maybe Lena too was here. PICKELNER: Bess and Esther who? MECKLER: Samuels. The names elude me sometimes. They were Samuels; now it's Bess Oseran and Esther Fireman. Oh, I mustn't leave Pearl Newmark out. She was Pearl -- what was her maiden name? I don't remember her father's name; her father was very active in the synagogue too. And Esther Dow; I remember we did one play in which a certain actress was named and the character tried to look like her and Esther Dow played that part. She didn't look anything like her but she looked very much like Frances Dee, who was a popular actress at the time. We had Mary Straus, Morris Gerst. I can't remember them, but just about all the young people who were available then and some a little older. So that was an annual event. PICKELNER: That was very interesting. Brenda, how did you blossom out into the world of literature? MECKLER: I think I told you earlier about my first publication in the American Hebrew, but from that time on I was very fortunate. It seemed someone always opened a door for me. When my father was in business on Washington Street one of the salesmen who called on him was a man named Pat Murphy, whose principal sales product was men's underwear in pastel shades, which were very popular with the Mexican trade. This is how he made a living, but his avocation was bringing people together who he thought should know one another, through letters or whatever. He would come down Washington Street with a pile of those pastel long johns on his arm, waving in the wind, with his other hand playing a harmonica. One day I received a letter from Henry Mencken, of the famed American Mercury. The letter said, "Your friend, Pat Murphy, told me that you are wasting your talent on the desert air" -- that made such an impression on me that I can still quote it word for word -- "and if you would like to send me something I'll be happy to read it." After I recovered from the shock, I decided I must take advantage of this. It was a very hot summer that year and I really was not handling it very well. I couldn't write. I really became ill. My friend, Imogene Jennings, whom I mentioned before, had taken a house in Flagstaff for the summer. She was pregnant with her second child and she insisted I come and stay with her until I was better; and I did. As soon as I was able to sit up and take nourishment she stood over me, practically with a blacksmith's whip, and she said, "Now, write!". It was there that I wrote "Ohio River Days", the first thing that I sent to Mencken, and which he accepted. PICKELNER: Imagine starting at the top, because the American Mercury had such status. As a young writer you really started at the top. That's wonderful, Brenda. Did you go on writing - were there other stories? MECKLER: Yes. There were others for the American Mercury and there was one that I had sent to him and he liked it very much - it was a Depression story - but he didn't think it would fit in with his current needs, but he was sure that I could sell it. So I sent it to Plain Talk, which had become not a rival of the Mercury, it was not that same type, but it was a literary magazine, and another magazine of distinction. John Osborn was one of the editor/publishers, and another of equal distinction, I cannot remember the name. I sent them this story, which I called "Poor White" and they published it. It was later taken up by Dr. Mary Boyer of the Flagstaff College and included in her anthology of Southwestern literature. One of the things that later appeared after the first one in the American Mercury was included in a textbook of English prose for college students. PICKELNER: That was beautiful. Didn't you also write for Collier's? MECKLER: That was much later. You see, not too long after that I went to Hollywood. Here again, it was a strange, almost weird way. Later on, the librarian at Beth El, Mrs. Edith Goldberg, who was an enterprising lady, asked in 1983 permission to collect published short stories, which by that time included Collier's and Loomis Home Companion and Opinion, the magazine that Dr. Weiss had been publishing in New York, as a fund raising for the library. I agreed, and she did this and came out as a collection of short stories over my name, and I think she did very well with it. PICKELNER: Under what name were your stories published? MECKLER: The first ones were published under the name of Goldle Weisberg. Goldie turned into Brenda when I went to Hollywood and I was asked at one point to change my name to something more Nordic. At that time the New York office felt there were too many non-Nordic names, too many Semitic sounding names. I refused to do that, but I very happily changed the first, choosing the name of a famous aunt of mine, a revolutionary aunt whom I admired very much. So I became Brenda Weisberg. So after I was in Hollywood everything I wrote was Brenda Weisberg. After I came here the collected short stories were published under the name of Brenda Weisberg Meckler. PICKELNER: That is very interesting. I remember that we wondered who that Goldie Weisberg was when we read the story in the anthology. Now, weren't you also for a short while a newspaper publisher? MECKLER: Yes. I decided the community was large enough, the Jewish community that is, to support an Anglo-Jewish paper. I called it the Southwestern Jewish Star. Unfortunately, I don't have a copy. When I left Phoenix many things were lost and nobody else has a copy. We have tried to find one. It covered Tucson and the metropolitan Phoenix, of course. We happened to hit a year that was an election year. We got quite a bit of political advertising. PICKELNER: Did you publish mostly news about Jewish life in the community? MECKLER: Totally about Jewish life and from time to time perhaps something beyond the community that was Interesting and that we had access to. And I published Jewish recipes as they were submitted, and other features. Of course there was an editorial page, which I wrote. Harold Goldberg, of the Goldberg family, which figured prominently in the early life of Phoenix, was my advertising manager. Elkan Solomon, who was a member of a very old family in Phoenix and in Arizona, not just Phoenix, a really pioneer family, was my Tucson stringer. Helen Wolpe sold advertising in Phoenix; Helen Wolpe is now living in Illinois and is Helen Wolpe Lynn. PICKELNER: Did you make expenses; did it go? MECKLER: Yes, we did. I still have a ledger, I think I showed it to you, showing the accounts; the money earned, the money owed, the money paid and so forth. Strangely and unfortunately, the month and day are always there but not the year. But this must have been in the late 20's and early 30's. PICKELNER: Now, there is a whole other side to your career and it was most unusual I think for a girl of your circumstances. How did you get to Hollywood? MECKLER: That too was in the class with the way I got into Mencken's magazine. As I said, I was very fortunate in friends opening doors for me. Of course, once I went through I had to make my own way. In this case a family named Primock, who had lived in Phoenix at that time, I think there's no one by that name living here now. One of the young daughters was a friend of mine, Marian Primock. After the death of the father of the family they moved to Los Angeles. Marian was determined that I should come to Hollywood and become a writer in the motion picture industry; that I should be there. She found a way to get me there. Her mother played bridge with the wife of an associate producer of Sol Lesser, of the Principal Productions. Lesser was making pictures with Bobby Breen, the young boy singing star, and the Tarzans, and was starting a Western series, which he referred to as miniature epics. They had engaged a Western star who played a guitar; that was a necessity in those days for the Western stars. Marian went to a secondhand bookshop and dug up some of the old magazines in which I had appeared, took them to her mother, persuaded her to persuade her friend, the bridge partner, to persuade her husband, the associate producer, to persuade Sol Lesser, the owner of the company, to read these. And it got as far as Sol Lesser. Lesser, in turn, turned them over to his story editor, a young woman named Selma Helsick, who is now Selma Brenner, and has been all the years and still is a very close friend of mine. Selma read them and went to him and said, "You must bring this girl out here." It was always a puzzle to me why anything that would appear in the American Mercury would appeal to a man who's making Tarzans and Bobby Breens and soon to start making Westerns. But it apparently did and I was offered a three month contract. I was at that time working for a group of doctors in Phoenix and they urged me to go. PICKELNER: Who were the doctors? MECKLER: Dr. Helrick Ketcherside, Dr. French and Dr. Joseph Bank. They urged me to go. The wife of Dr. Ketcherside said she would take my desk, my job would be there if I wanted to come back, but I must try this. PICKELNER: What kind of an experience was this? What was Hollywood like? Was it full of glamorous stars?' Were you involved in that? MECKLER: No, not at this time. Certainly, there were no glamorous stars in Sol Lesser's organization. My experience there was such that I wrote a story called "Alice In Hollywood". It was very similar to her adventures. After three months this experiment was over because the miniature epics had failed. I was there for the premiere of the first one and my producer took me to this premiere. He asked me afterward what I thought and I thought he really wanted to know what I thought. I told him not too bluntly, not as bluntly as the dailies in Hollywood told him the next morning. Anyway, it was the end of the experiment of the miniature epic, whatever that was really supposed to be. I sat out my contract. I was ready to go home. I wrote and told them I was coming back. In the meantime, Mr. Briskin, who was the associate producer in question, whose wife was the bridge player, called me into his office and said he felt very badly about my experience. He wanted me to meet with his brother. There were three Briskin brothers; one at Sol Lesser's, one at Columbia and one at RKO. He made an appointment for me with the one at Columbia. He said, "They make a lot more pictures than we do, a greater variety of pictures and I want you to talk to him. I've talked about you and I think that he would like to have you on his staff." So I went to Mr. Briskin No. 2 and he told me they were looking for some idea stories, which it turned out meant exploitation of certain ideas. They wanted stories about juvenile delinquency and If I would bring him one he would see what he could do. I had already joined the guild which was a guild in name only. We had no power, no clout. PICKELNER: A writer's guild? MECKLER: Writer's guild, yes. The Screenwriter's Guild. There was a company guild at Metro Goldwyn Meyer, but this was an attempt to really get organized. So one of the writers in the same building, the one who wrote for the Tarzans, came in with an application. Of course, I joined immediately. But I didn't know that writers for the screen were not supposed to write on speculation or spec, as it was, in the way a magazine writer worked. So I wrote a story for them. I went to the Los Angeles Police Department, told them that I would like to look at some of their files on juvenile delinquency, told them why. They were very cooperative. I found enough material there for what I thought would create a strong story on the subject. I wrote it, took it back to Mr. Briskin and he said, "I'm sorry, we already have our idea story." Then I was really ready to go back. But in the meantime an actress friend of mine had introduced me to her agent who handled writers as well. And he signed me. As a result the story was sold to Universal, to then producer Ken Goldsmith, and I was part of the package deal. I was signed not to a contract, but for this one time. I stayed there for a year. I was offered a contract. Then I had another agent and he told me not to accept the contract, they would want to nail me down to the then salary. In any case, the contracts were really not very good for the party of the first part, which was the writer or the actor. You were signed to a 6-month contract; 7 years in 6-month segments. At the end of the 6 months they could fire you but you couldn't walk away. You had to stay. So in all the years I worked in Hollywood I never had a contract. Anyway, I stayed for 15 years. PICKELNER: You were a free lance writer? MECKLER: I was a free lance writer but I stayed a year at Universal, I went to RKO and stayed there for a year, then back to Universal, then to RKO, then again to Columbia and back and forth. PICKELNER: Well, it sounds like a great adventure. When you settled down in Hollywood did your parents come to live with you? MECKLER: Yes, they did. They had come two years before because my father seemed to have exhausted the salubrious effects of the climate here and his doctor told him to go to a higher climate -- this of course was very low -- to go in Hollywood to Boyle Heights. Yes, Boyle Heights was above smog and above other pollution. They were there for a year and came back. They had rented a house; I kept one wing for myself. When I went to Hollywood they came with me. PICKELNER: Well, it sounds very glamorous to us. I don't know how glamorous it was to you but I'm certain there are many stories connected with this episode in your life that would be interesting. Now, how did you come back to Phoenix? MECKLER: Well, I told you way back there somewhere that Morris Meckler had come to Phoenix in the same year we did. He came in March with his brother and the brother's family, and we came in September. Maybe I didn't tell you that, but I did tell you that he was a witness when my father and I applied for our citizenship papers and we became friends. The families became friends because we were still a very close knit community then. In 1952 I married him and came back. PICKELNER: Well, mazel tov. MECKLER: Thank you. PICKELNER: I know, of course, from our friendship what a wonderful marriage that was. Tell us something about Morris. I know he was important in the community. MECKLER: He was in many, many ways. I'm going to go all the way back to the days when we had no organized means of dealing with people in need or people who were ill and had no one to help them and wayfarers who came through and were stranded here. But we had a small group of men, my father was one and Morris Meckler was another, who were sort of a self-appointed committee to watch over these needs in the community. If they learned -- there was always a way of learning. In a small community somehow a chain of command follows through -- word would come to them that so and so who was In business was not doing well and was not being able to pay his rent and needed help because he had a family. Then my father and Morris and whoever else was involved, I don't remember now, would go to the different merchants and the professional people and tell them we need help for somebody; never told them for whom. They were trusted. Through all of Morris' life, certainly through his life that I shared with him, he was trusted in many, many ways; as a businessman and other ways. They would contribute what they could or would. The money would be put into a little bank bag and they would drop in on this person, just to chat and see how were things going and so on. When it was time to leave, unobtrusively, on the counter if it were a businessman, they would leave this bag and walk away, and that was it. PICKELNER: What wonderful tzedaka that was. MECKLER: And another thing that they did. Many people came here for their health at the time. Sunnyslope was an area where many of them came. It was always for some respiratory problem and tuberculosis. At that time climate was about the only thing they prescribed, either high up in the Rockies or down here in the desert. Word came to them that a young man was living in an improvised tent on an earthen floor and really was not having anything in the way of care to promote his recovery. So again the committee called on him to make his acquaintance, to invite him for the holidays and so forth and suggested he come into town and stay with someone while something could be done to improve his quarters there. I don't remember where he went but he was given a place to stay. They got lumber, they built a floor, they saw that he had a weathertight tent and a decent bed and everything that he needed. That was not uncommon, that was very frequent. PICKELNER: That's a wonderful side of him. I know Morris' reputation as a businessman. Do you want to say something about that? MECKLER: Yes, I have an example that I think is a very good one of the confidence that his customers had in him. There was a man who had, and perhaps still has, trailer homes. They were not as elaborate as we have today but they were trailer homes and people usually moved about in them. He had this place in Tempe on Apache Boulevard and it was coming close to Christmas and he was very busy. He called Morris and told him that he wanted a diamond for his wife for Christmas but he didn't have time to come out and look for It or to check on it or anything. So he said you Just pick out something. He told him how much he wanted to pay, "You pick out something and let me know and I'll come and get it." When anyone is trusted to pick out a diamond you must know that he is trusted totally and completely. This was one example of his business tactics, the way he operated. He had quite a few people from the Hispanic families. Grandfathers would send their sons, and their grandsons would come to him for their wedding sets and we danced at many a Spanish wedding in the course of his business. PICKELNER: That is charming. Brenda, wasn't he also a friend of Himann Kivel, who became so important? MECKLER: Yes, he was a confidante. You know, I Just learned something the other day when I was reviewing the history in the dedication book when the present Beth El synagogue was dedicated. Himann Kivel had given Beth El their first Sefer Torah. PICKELNER: Oh, that's interesting. MECKLER: I'd forgotten about that. PICKELNER: Who was Himann Kivel? MECKLER: He was a man who lived almost entirely by himself, but gave generously to others. He was a man who had made his wealth in a roundabout way and I don't think you want me to go into that. But he lived at that time -- and what brought him to Phoenix I don't know, perhaps his own health was not good -- in a small apartment on 3rd Street with the bare necessities. At that time young women would be sent out as collectors, raisers of funds for the National Jewish Hospital and the Denver hospital for tuberculosis. Many of them would come to Morris and he would take them around to people because it gave them an entree and they were not so easily turned down. Also, Hadassah would do that and Bertha Goldman Feiler, who was then I think a young woman, whether she was already Goldman -- I think she was still Silverman -always came to Morris for a visit to Mr. Kivel for his annual check to Hadassah. When they got there this time they knocked on the door and didn't hear an answer and he went around and looked through a window and saw him on the bed. He was trying to say something but they couldn't hear it so he went away and called him; he had a telephone at his side. He said, "Come in. The door is open. I don't feel well." They came in and he gave Bertha a check -- and incidentally, he never learned to write his signature in English. He signed it in Yiddish. He never learned to read English. When he was able to function in his financial transactions he would go into the brokerage office and the same man was always assigned to him. He would read to him the day's quotations and he would say, "Buy this" and "Sell this". He had a memory and an instinct for the right thing and he made a lot of money that way. Anyway, he said to Bertha at that time, "Take this to the bank right now and get it cashed because tomorrow I may be dead." Morris knew that he was really very ill and he said, "I'm going to get you to a hospital." He said, "No, I'm not going to spend money on a hospital." And Morris said, keeping his fingers crossed no doubt, "I can get you in for five dollars a day." He said, "Well, for five dollars maybe I'll go." In the meantime Morris called Florence Frank -- no, it wasn't Florence Frank, it was Cele somebody - - PICKELNER: Andre. MECKLER: -- Cele Andre, who was the social service worker in the community to bring someone out. Before he came back someone had called his [Kivel's] son, probably Cele Andre -- when he saw him again in a day or two his son had come and he said he would take care of everything. Himann Kivel died very soon after that. Of course, he is remembered and always will be remembered for his generosity to the community. The Kivel Geriatric Center is his memorial. He left $100,000, which because of certain legal entanglements had to be deposited for awhile before it could be used. By that time it had grown of course, it had earned money. So this was Himann Kivel's wonderful contribution to the Jewish community. PICKELNER: Yes, I know there were some complications in the will because the person who made it out Just simply put down the temple lists. MECKLER: And then it was turned over to the Federation, the Community Council then. Also, he had designated that it was to be used for a wayfarer's home. But there was no need by that time for a wayfarer's home. People came through and there was a Federation, there were organizations to take care of that. What it needed, really, was a nursing home and that too had to be straightened out legally but it was done. Morris was on the board, he was one of the founders. Harry Stone was a founder. At the dedication the daughter came up from Tucson and was asked, "Do you think your father would have approved of what we have done?" She said, "Yes, I think so. It's not what he had in mind, but I'm sure he would have approved." PICKELNER: That is very fine. Was Hirsh Kaplan the administrator? MECKLER: Not the first one, because they needed someone very quickly. Celia Bramson, who had been an administrator in a hospital In Cleveland, was available. She had a background which qualified her to an extent, but it needed more than that, more than she was prepared to give. She had retired; she was no longer a young woman. But it was very wonderful to have her when we needed her. Then Hirsh Kaplan, who had been at the time I believe the executive director of the Jewish Community Council, had the perfect credentials for this job In every way. And he was engaged at that time. He was instrumental in a very large way in getting the buildings and the funds and the Hill Burton funds to really put this in a perfectly viable system, eventually three residential buildings. At that time, of course, we started with the nursing home. PICKELNER: Brenda, I know that you too had a part in the Kivel story. MECKLER: I wanted to do something and I felt that programming was something I could handle more effectively than anything else. Again, I must tell you I must share whatever I did there with Morris, because he was not only supportive he was there with me all the time. We would go on Tuesday evenings and have supper at Googy's on 40th Street, there was a shopping center there, and then come over to the nursing home and put on the program. Morris would always see that the wheelchair patients or the ones who had difficulty in hearing were placed in a way that they could enjoy everything. I started this in a very modest way. I made use of all my friends that could offer something. Dorothy Pickelner was one of them and came and read to them. One or two of them wanted to hear something in Yiddish. I happened to have one spiel that I seldom employ but which came in handy at that time to transliterate freely from English into Yiddish. Then I discovered that they didn't really want that, they wanted English, so I stopped that. As we went on we became more and more ambitious and I had very fine programs - people from the symphony whom I came to know. I watched the newspapers and if someone was in town who might have an extra day or so, and people who were engaged as nightclub entertainers, and they came. They came because they thought it was a good thing to do. I always introduced myself as a volunteer program director. You are listened to with more courtesy. PICKELNER: Who were some of the famous people that you brought? MECKLER: Of course there was Jack Benny. He was the most exciting. I always posted the month's programs ahead so they could relish them and look forward to them. I always had to have a backup because sometimes one of them would fall. When Jack Benny was posted it created such a festive atmosphere. When I brought him in, with his fiddle in his hand, the patients, or residents as we referred to them, were lined up on either side of the social hall. The ladies had had their hair done, their makeup on, their best dresses. There was an open space between the two sections. It was a great day. They loved it and they loved him. They greeted him as he walked in by singing "Shone a Light Unto Him".(?) Then another one who came that gave us great joy was Thomas L. Thomas, who was at that time very well known, especially in the radio circles. He was the principal singer on the Firestone program. He was in town and I talked to him, and he came. In fact, he came twice. The second time he offered to come, it was about Christmastime. But this first time he said, "Find out what some of their favorite songs are. If anybody has a birthday, let me know." Well, we had a couple who were in their 90's and they had been show business people in their youth. They were having an anniversary, a diamond wedding anniversary. I asked what songs they would like, what was sung at their wedding. Well, I think It was something like, "Oh, Promise Me" or "I Love You Truly", I don't remember. But I passed it on to him. I pointed them out to him in the auditorium and at one point he came down with his mike in his hand and announced that this is in honor of so and so on the occasion of their 75th wedding anniversary. And he sang the song, and they sat there with tears pouring down their cheeks - and almost everybody else's. It was a very, very gala evening. Another event that was delightful in a different way -- the granddaughter of Sholom Aleichem, who was an author and a teacher and had written "Up The Down Staircase", which was very widely read. I'm sorry, I cannot remember her name at this point. Anyway, she came and I introduced her as a celebrity in her own right. She was here as the principal speaker for the Arizona Education Association's annual conference. I sent a note to her by way of my son-in-law, Joseph Stocker, who was then publications director for the organization, and she replied via Joe that yes, she would be glad to come. I introduced her, of course, in her own right, as an author and a speaker, but also as the granddaughter of Sholom Aleichem. This is what meant something to them. we had many, many wonderful people who came. One of the nightclubs had, and maybe still has, a group of Hawaiian performers. They were there year after year. I never asked anyone more than once a year, so we would not be too oppressive. They would come and perform and invite those who were ambulant to dance and they would teach them to do the Hawaiian dances. That was the way it went for eight and a half years. PICKELNER: Wonderful. Wasn't there a story about a friendship between Jack Benny's father and your father? MECKLER: Yes, there was. Jack Benny, I'm sure everyone knows that his name was Benny Kubelsky, his father was Mr. Kubelsky. Jack Benny's father had married a -- let's see, his wife was a sister of Mrs. Sachs, or maybe Mr. Sachs. And he was a brother -- the couple was married to cousins, so he would come and spend much part of the winter there, Mr. Kubelsky. He was at that time a widower. He would drop into my father's store and they became very good friends. We had a little theater of course at that time and I was already active. I came in one day and he was there. He was a very dapper gentleman, always beautifully turned out; carried a silver-headed cane for part of his costume, not because he needed it to walk by. The Little Theater was at that time playing a comedy, "Accent on Youth" and the protagonist was in love with his secretary, who was much, much younger. It was in the middle of the run and I asked Mr. Kubelsky, "How would you like to see a play at our community theater?" and he said, "Sure, why not?". So I called up and said, "I'm bringing Jack Benny's father to see the show tonight and if we're a little late will you hold the curtain?" Well, of course they would hold the curtain. Anyway, we came to the play and there was one scene in which the hero had a date with his secretary and he was standing in front of the mirror, trying to comb the remnants of his hair over the bald spot and trying to make himself look at natty as possible. Mr. Kubelsky, who was probably close to this man's age, raised his cane and waved it in the air and at the top of his voice shouted, "It's no use old man, it won't help you a bit." Of course, he broke up the company on the stage and broke up the audience, but everyone had a good time. PICKELNER: Wonderful. Brenda, when you returned as Mrs. Morris Meckler the community welcomed you with open arms and you quickly became part of the whole fabric of life in Phoenix all over again, but you returned to the Phoenix Little Theater and I know that you had a magnificent career as a director. Do you remember the plays which you directed for the Phoenix Little Theater? MECKLER: I think so. of course, I had started directing before I left. I had directed "The Late Christopher Bean", "The Show Shop" and one other play, I don't remember what the other one was. Anyway, when I returned the first thing I did for the theater was a script for the opening of the 30th season. Things had been rather slow and the theater hadn't been doing too well and they wanted something to give it a boost and to open the season with excitement. So I wrote "Operation Remember" recalling plays in three ten-year segments, excerpts from plays that were still good plays and even some whose actors who had appeared in those plays 30 years before were still available and still able to do the part. For instance, Mrs. J.L.B. Alexander, Judge Alexander's wife, had played Mrs. Midget in a production of "Outward Bound". Many of you will be familiar with that play. It's a shipload of people who have died and they're going out on the Journey of no return. Mrs. Alexander was still with us and she could be 30 years older and still be scrubbing the decks. So we used her. The highlight perhaps, in terms of actors, Rosemary de Camp, who was by that time a very successful young actress, a very lovely and beautiful young woman who had started her career in the theater at the Phoenix Little Theater in a play called "The Road to Yesterday". She played my 14 year old sister and here she was 30 years later and was able to look 14 again. But she didn't play the scene with me. I gave her another scene in the play. We also had to do a scene from "Our Town" and I wrote a comedy skit to place in front of the curtain because I thought bringing her back from Los Angeles we should use her more than just for that one scene. Dodie Cookson, she's Dodie Cookson Heller now, who had played in "The Women" and had played for me in "Enter Madame" -- that was the third play I had done before I left -- she came back from Los Angeles, bringing her handsome poodle, who had a part in "The Women", I think. Another old friend of the theater who was living in Palm Springs came back to play her part in "Twelfth Night". So it was a gala evening and its purpose, again, was to celebrate an anniversary and that was a 50th anniversary in 1953 or '54. That was called "Around the World in 20's Plays", using scenes from plays that were premiered around the world or revived around the world, including the United States. In between I directed again. The first play I directed was the "Magnificent Yankee". Not in order, but as I recall them, "The Barretts of Wimpole Street",, "Man and Superman", "Inherit The Wind", "Look Homeward Angel", "The Diary of Anne Frank", "The Crucible", "A Raisin in the Sun", which was a first and a great success. PICKELNER: What was special about that? MECKLER: Well, it was an all Black company. It was the Hansberry play and a very fine one. There was only one White person in the play and he was not the hero. "The Corn Is Green", and that's all I can think of at the time. PICKELNER: That was a great contribution to the community. MECKLER: Here too, I must bring in Morris if I may. We were both fortunate in that we shared interests together in the theater, in music, in concerts. He came to rehearsals with me and by the time a play was ready to go on he usually knew all the lines and could be my prompter. He instituted something that made him and me very popular. Dress rehearsal night he would bring in a delicatessen supper and everybody had a wonderful time. When I directed "Inherit The Wind" with a cast of thousands I think he almost had to cart the supper in. So, I didn't have to leave him with a supper of salami and eggs and go away by myself. PICKELNER: It was a wonderful contribution that you both made. MECKLER: He was active, of course, in other areas too; in Beth El and in B'nai B'rith. He was on the board of B'nai B'rith and a secretary or treasurer or something for many years. Of course, he remained president of Beth El for a little more than 13 years, until the new building was finished. They had asked him to stay with it and he said he would until the building was finished. PICKELNER: What a wonderful couple you were. Brenda, I know that there was one tremendous community effort that you made, because I was part of it, and that was the Tercentenary. Please tell us about that. MECKLER: Yes, that was in 1953. Let me make sure about that. In 1954 Jews and Jewish communities all over the United States were celebrating the 300th anniversary of Jewish life in America. Phoenix was no exception. I was asked if I could do something to help with the celebration. I wrote a pageant which we called "To Be Free". It was produced in the Phoenix Union High School auditorium. It was the only large place available at the time. I thought the best thing that it produced was a unity in the community that no other event had ever really brought about, because it drew from every part of the city, from every profession, from every businessperson, from the different synagogues and temples. They came to audition, they came for the tryouts. I was new in the community then. I didn't know a lot of people; I knew some. I knew some of the women who had been actors in my days as a director for the Junior Council; grown-up men and women now. They participated. Bess Oseran was one and Jen Oseran and Dorothy Pickelner. Of course, she did not go back to those early days, but herself was a very prominent active member of the community. And countless others. They were cast on the merits of their tryouts, every one of them. I had a very lovely young woman who unfortunately died not very long after this event, Lois Schreiber. She was my executive producer. The very heart of this whole project was the magnificent Hadassah chorus which had been organized and directed by Lidabelle Guberman. I made this a mixed chorus, in a way, out of whom everything else radiated. There were about 110 people altogether in this project. I had written no parts for children; it hadn't occurred to me that the children would be interested, or that it might be too difficult. But when the parents came home and were rehearsing their parts and prompting one another, the children wanted to come in too. They usually learned the parents' parts, so I began writing in children. I had young Bruce Mallin and Bruce Gross and Joy Frank's little daughter. I can't remember them all, but they were all great little actors. PICKELNER: Brenda, this was a tremendous undertaking. I have a feeling it was probably the best celebration of the 300th anniversary of any city in the United States, and I know it was so considered. It was a gem of a production and really brought the community together. Now, Brenda, you came back as Mrs. Morris Meckler and you inherited a beautiful family. Tell us about that. MECKLER: I have lost Morris. He died five years ago. But I have this wonderful legacy. There are two daughters; Frances Firestein and Ida Stocker and their husbands, Albert Firestein and Joseph Stocker. The three Stocker sons, who are my grandsons, are Steven and David and Mark. The two Firestein grandchildren are Sandy Garvey and Charles Firestein and his wife, Laurie. The Garvey children are Kim and Jason and Shawn. The Firestein grandchildren are two little boys, Jonathan and Jeffrey. So I have five grandchildren and five great grandchildren. I couldn't ask for a more beautiful family. They have sustained me and loved me and I love them. PICKELNER: That's very beautiful, Brenda. Now, what lies ahead? In spite of the fact that you are an octogenarian now thank God that you're still active and your mind is wonderful, and I know that you have now finished an important piece of work, which would be the envy of any of us. Would you like to tell us about that? MECKLER: Well, it's a book called "The Bend in the Road: An Exploration". The exploration comes from T.S. Elliot's fourth quartet, in which he said, "We shall never be done with our exploring, but when we have finished our exploration, we will return to where we started and see the place for the first time." This book is an exploration of my growing up in Ohio on a farm, an immigrant child who was programmed to grow up in Boston and ends up growing up on a farm in southwestern Ohio. It's in the hands of an agent, it hasn't been sold yet. PICKELNER: Oh, but we know that it will be published and we will all have a great celebration when that beautiful book comes out. Thank you for your memories and for sharing them with us and we're all looking forward to the book. MECKLER: Thank you very much. I hope you won't be disappointed. Dorothy, you know your friendship means a great deal to me and it was good sharing this with you. [end of transcript]