40 February 1st, 1947
Link to Forverts edition
When Mogulesko was ill, he came to Philadelphia to play in my benefit performance. – A scene that took place backstage that can’t be forgotten.
When it was announced around Philadelphia that Mogulesko will appear in Di Greenhorns, oder Mishke un Moshke in the Arch Street Theater, all the tickets were bought up in a mere three days time. The announcements were big and bold, and read:
The greatest three comedians of the Yiddish stage - Sigmond Mogulesko, Sam Kestin, and Jacob Frank - in one performance.
They didn’t need to say anything more. The rush for tickets was so great, that if there were more room in the theater, three times as many could have been sold. Nu, it goes without saying that I felt like I was in seventh heaven, and I was thankful to Mogulesko with all my heart for not turning me down. In the letter I wrote him at the time, I told him how the Philadelphia audiences were eagerly expecting him, and he could be sure that he would receive such an ovation in the theater that he’d never forget for the rest of his life. Everyone was talking about the performance, and everyone was looking forward to seeing Mogulesko.
But exactly one day before the performance, I received a telegram from New York that Mogulesko had again fallen seriously ill and was unable to speak, and therefore he would not be able to come to the performance.
When I read over the telegram, my eyes went dark. At first I suspected that Molly had made this up so that he wouldn’t have to come perform. But soon I dismissed this suspicion because I knew that Mogulesko really was ill, and he often lost his speech and wasn’t able to utter even one word.
There was no time to lose. The thought that when audiences found out that Mogulesko would not be coming they’d tear me to shreds had me unable to stay calm. And since I knew that back in New York, Mogulesko was under the care of Dr. Held, the brother of Adolph Held who was at that time, as I recall, the business manager of the Forverts. I straight away sent a telegram to Dr. Held asking that even if Mogulesko was unable to perform, would he allow him to come to Philadelphia just to present himself to the audiences, since this would surely save me. If not, khalilah, I would be doomed and I would be simply ashamed to show my face in public again.
I was really rattled over this, pacing around unsettled and disconcerted. And to this day, I can’t forget how I rejoiced when I saw Mogulesko the next day. He didn’t come to Philadelphia by himself, but together with Molly and Dr. Held. The good doctor, who had always held the talents of the great actors of the Yiddish theater in high regard, did not want to let Mogulesko travel to Philadelphia alone, so he therefore came with him.
In my great joy, I took them to a hotel, but from the way Mogulesko looked and from the few words that he managed to utter, it was clear that he certainly wasn’t able to perform. It broke your heart to see him that way. I reassured him as much as I could - I thanked him for coming, and I told him that he doesn’t need to perform. It’s enough for him to just present himself on the stage so the audiences can see that he was there, but he was not in good health, and it was difficult for him to talk, so he would not perform.
But he was stubborn:
– What do you mean that I will not perform?! I will too perform!
He turned and beseeched Dr. Held:
– Doctor, let me perform! I gave him my word…
Dr. Held had no great desire to grant him permission to perform that evening. This was plain to see. Molly also really did not want him to perform that evening either, and this too was plain to see. But Mogulesko begged and begged until the doctor gave in:
– Well… What can we do, what?… You can perform, but remember: don’t exert yourself too much…
And you just had to see how Mogulesko rejoiced when he heard this. He rejoiced like a child.
It was difficult for him to perform. In the first few scenes, he was so quiet that you could barely hear what he was saying. But out of respect for him, the audience didn’t think of such a thing as to demand that Mogulesko speak up1. They understood that his illness was what made his voice was so soft.
But after he had played the first few scenes, a miracle suddenly happened. He perked up, and he began to speak so that everyone in the theater could hear what he said. The audience was so overjoyed that the whole theater resounded with applause. They heard Mogulesko’s voice, his beloved voice, which always charmed the audiences so, and they rejoiced.
The actors on the stage were also thrilled.
Mogulesko speaks!
You can hear his voice now! You can hear it!
He proceeded to play the whole rest of his role such that, every gesture and every movement and every sparkle of his eye evoked enthusiasm from the audience. When the curtain fell, the theater was simply full of screams which for years and years had been heard across Yiddish theaters in Russia, Romania, and many other countries:
– Bravo, Mogulesko! Bravo, Mogulesko!
But after the performance he was terribly exhausted. Sweating profusely, he sat still and didn’t say a word. Molly sat next to him, and just like him, she also didn’t say a word. She only looked at him, and in her eyes you could see an ocean of pity.
I walked over to him, and I’m not ashamed to say now that my eyes were filled with tears.
– Nu?! - He said to me, with a smile. - Nu?!
I didn’t know what he meant by this. But maybe he meant:
– Nu, you see, when Mogulesko promises something, he keeps his word and you can rely on him…
But I wasn’t able to think much about what he meant by “Nu,” and taking out a hundred dollar bill from my pocket, I said to him:
– Listen, my dear friend! I don’t have much to give to thank you for what you have done for me. I will never in my whole life forget this. But you have to take this hundred. I beg you, take it. It is from the bottom of my heart.
Molly was thrilled and immediately grabbed the hundred to put it away. But when Mogulesko saw this, he frowned. You could tell that he was uncomfortable with the whole situation, and with a pleading voice he said to Molly:
– Molly, give him back the hundred! You heard what I said, Molly? Give him back the hundred!…
She had no desire to obey him, and looking right at me and then at him, she started talking about what a sick man he was, such a sick man, and he needs to be looked after. With this, she obviously wanted to calm him down and remind him that now, as always, he must also follow her lead and not interfere in matters that he doesn’t understand. But this time he was insistent and he held firm:
– Molly, give him back the hundred! You heard what I said, Molly? Give him back the hundred!… I will be ashamed to look him in the eye if you take that hundred from him … He didn’t force me to play at all, so I won’t take anything from him…
And when he saw that she was still not willing to give the money back, he became angry:
– Molly, give him back the hundred dollars already!
This was the first and only time I ever saw Mogulesko get angry with his wife Molly.
No matter how much I begged him to take the money, I couldn’t prevail upon him. And when I said to him, how about the next morning I come pick him up from his hotel in an automobile and “take him out” a little to show him around the city along with Molly and Dr. Held and treat them to a nice meal in a fancy restaurant, he answered me with a smile and said that this he simply could not refuse, and I should come to his hotel the next morning no earlier than 11 o’clock.
But when I arrived at his hotel the next morning at the agreed upon time, I was told that Mr. Mogulesko had already left two hours earlier…
He had known when he would leave, and therefore he had intentionally told me to come later. When I later saw him back in New York, I complained to him that he didn’t wait for me. With a smile, he asked me,
– Come on now, is spending your money on me really how you want to go through life?
He didn’t want me to spend any money on him. It was his pleasure to do such a huge toive for me, and this made us completely even2. Everything was clean, without even the slightest stain. His artistic soul could not bear a stain between friends.