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Lena with Art Salter and his wife, Goldie, on the steps of our house at 6309 Colgate Avenue, Los Angeles.
WESTWARD HO!
In 1936, some of the Salter/Levine family moved to California, settling in Los Angeles. The family hoped the sunny weather would improve my mother’s health. Even confined to a wheelchair with crippling arthritis, she was still a tower of strength, cooking and sewing for everybody. She always kept her dignity and showed the same bravery when she lost a leg to diabetes. Despite the challenges in her life, my mother often said, “Everything works out for the best.”
Lena was always interested in the world around her, especially politics. It was probably a carry-over from the days when my father’s café, the Pelham, was a virtual headquarters for Tammany Hall. Since her husband had always brought home politicians who discussed current events, my mother liked to keep up on things.
She went in her wheelchair to vote in every election. She never missed voting. In fact, I bought her a portable wheelchair to make the trip to the polls easier. My mother was a remarkable woman who always kept an open mind, an open door and an open heart. She always spoke about her children as being “perfect.” One sentiment she often repeated was, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything.”