The news
spread quickly through the old cobblestone streets and immediately
the telephones at the Yidishe Velt
(Jewish World), the only Yiddish daily newspaper
then printed in Philadelphia, began to ring. Callers asked the same
question: Is it true? No one could believe the bank had closed, and
despite the wind and the cold, merchants, shopkeepers, and nearby
residents came and stood for hours. In the evening many more came.
Established in January 1891 by Marcus and Anna Blitzstein as a
ticket order and money exchange office, M. L. Blitzstein
&
Co. thrived. When Marcus died in 1897,
Anna, known in the family as
Babushka,
managed the exchange and
eventually converted it into a successful, private, unregulated,
immigrant bank. In the first decade of this century, Congress
established a Commission to look into the subject of immigrant
banking:
The Immigrant Bank is an institution which
flourishes in every part of the United States where immigrants from
southern and eastern Europe are gathered in any considerable
numbers. These banks bear little resemblance to regular banking
institutions. They are without real capital, having little or no
legal responsibility, and for
the most part are entirely without legal
control. Immigrant bankers, as a rule, are also steamship-ticket
agents, and usually conduct some other business as well.
Consequently the "banks" are, for the most part, located in
groceries, saloons, or other establishments which are natural
gathering places for immigrants.
Besides handling the savings of his
patrons, the immigrant banker performs for them many necessary
services. He writes their letters, receives their mail, and is their
general adviser in what to them are important affairs.76
Immigrant banks,
found in poster-bedecked offices of the immigrant representatives of
steamship companies, cared for the overnight deposits of countrymen,
and transmitted money abroad. Jewish immigrant bankers spoke
Yiddish. Almost all immigrant banks were unincorporated and
individually owned. The term
"
&
Co." and other terms of a corporate
nature frequently appeared in the names of these establishments but
were meaningless in a majority of cases as far as indicating any
distribution of ownership. The terms were used in the belief that
they added a certain dignity to the firm. Immigrant banks were easy
to identify. Advertisements adorned the windows, walls, and
signboards. Available space in the office was filled with steamship
posters, money-changing notices, and many-colored placards.
The Blitzsteins were the
passage agent for the American Hamburg Packet and other steamship
lines. Anna Blitzstein, perhaps the first woman banker in
Philadelphia and one of the first women bankers in the country, was
known for her wise advice. In the early years of the 20th century,
efforts were made by federal and state authorities to regulate
banking, including immigrant banking. When the Commonwealth of
Pennsylvania passed the private banking act of 1911, Anna was able
to continue to run her private bank without state interference or
regulation, being grandfathered under exemption six of the act.77
Anna eventually outgrew her first bank.
The second
Blitzstein bank, and the first built as a bank, was located on the
northwest corner of S. 4th
& Lombard
Streets (the first Blitzstein bank stood on the northeast corner of
the same intersection).78 During the 1920's the bank prospered and
assumed a central role in the area's commercial life. It was,
however, dealt a setback upon the death of its founder, Anna
Blitzstein.79 The new owners Anna's son, Samuel
Blitzstein, and a son-in-law, Constantine B. Voynow - recovered
quickly. In the fall of 1930, they expanded the bank north along S.
4th Street and almost doubled its size.80 At the time the
bank closed, it had six thousand depositors, many of whom were local
merchants.
On Monday morning,
December 22, 1930, the day before the Blitzstein bank closed,
another Philadelphia bank, Bankers Trust Company, composed of
nineteen branches with 135,000 depositors and over $45 million in
deposits, closed its doors. The Pennsylvania Secretary of Banking,
Peter G. Cameron, closed Bankers Trust Company to prevent the
disastrous results of a run on the bank and stated that the closing
would have no effect on any other bank in the city. The banking
community, however, sensed disaster. In an effort to prevent runs on
other banks, a statement was issued by a Clearing House committee
that same afternoon:
"We [the leading bankers
in the city] believe that the financial situation in Philadelphia is
basically sound and there is no occasion for depositors in other
banks and trust companies to become alarmed on account of the
closing of the Bankers Trust Company. "81
Notwithstanding this
assurance, on the afternoon of December 22nd, a run began on another
Philadelphia bank, the Franklin Trust Company, which had deposits of
$37 million. At the close of the business day the city was in
turmoil. That evening, the mayor of Philadelphia went on the radio
and urged the people to be calm and not precipitate a run on any
bank. But the mayor's words hardly calmed a frightened populace. In
fact his words did just the opposite; they added to the panic, at
least among the immigrants. The run on the Blitzstein bank began the
next morning.82 And within less than twenty-four hours of
the mayor's broadcast, the Blitzstein bank shut its doors.
Upon the bank's
closure, crisis meetings were held at the family home. The
Blitzsteins were a close family and even the children participated
in these tense gatherings. A granddaughter remembers hearing the
oft-repeated outcry: "Thank God,
Babushka's
dead."83 But no matter how
traumatic the bank's closing was for the family, depositors
understood the Blitzstein bank was an "innocent victim of the panic
created by the closing of the Bankers Trust Company."84 Three days
after the Blitzstein bank closed, a throng inside the nearby large
hall of the Brith Sholom building, 506-508 Pine Street, selected a
committee of fifteen to represent depositors in upcoming court
battles. Later in the day over two thousand persons gathered in
front of the bank to pour their hearts out to anyone who would
listen. At one point someone shouted: "Let's go to the
Yidishe
Veltf"
Soon the business
offices of the newspaper were filled with hundreds of Russian Jewish
immigrants, but neither the
Yidishe Velt
nor the courts could help.
After 1930, the Depression widened and Jews who lived in the South
Street area, like most Americans, struggled to put bread on the
table. Real estate held by the bank as security for mortgage loans
was impossible to sell, and cash on hand was inadequate to fully
repay the immigrant-depositors. Overnight, the Blitzsteins and local
shopkeepers awoke to the reality of the Depression. The Blitzstein
bank never opened again.85
The closing of the
bank was painful to the Blitzstein family. But in a larger sense,
the closing signaled the beginning of the end of an era. Other
signals abounded. As we have seen, immigrant shipping at the port of
Philadelphia stopped in 1924. Fresh new east European immigrants no
longer replaced long-time residents of the South Street area when
these residents moved to outlying sections of Philadelphia. Even
though the Depression and World War II postponed the
exodus, immigrant Jewish life was coming to an end. Two generations
of east European Jews had settled around South Street, made a
bisl gelt
(some money) and then, like Joshua, they moved on to the promised
land: Strawberry Mansion.
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