A heart of flesh

LaVonne Neff

In 1890 you could pick up gold from the main streets of New York City. At least that's what someone told Harris and Sarah Cohen, and they believed it. Didn't everybody know that all Americans were millionaires? And wouldn't anything be better than their obscure Russian village where the soil was hard and the people cruel, were just being a Jew was reason enough to be taunted, persecuted, cheated? Harris Cohen packed his belongings into two wood crates and boarded the freighter headed for the promised land. Sarah followed later. But the promised land turned out to have air murky with factory set, garbage in the ditches, and smoke–blackened buildings with apartments that smelled like bacon grease. Into this atmosphere, broken dreams, frustration, and anger. Rebecca Cohen was born. It didn't take her long to realize that women were not worth much. Women had to obey in work or else...