A Kosher Home  

Compared with the large communities in Brooklyn, the North Adams enclave was minuscule, almost a rounding error in size. And while many of New York’s Jews were recent immigrants, the fire of the alter heim still warming their bellies, North Adams’ Jews were second or even third generation Americans, their zeal for “the world that was” substantially dimmed.

Years later, when recounting those years, one of Bubby’s frequent declarations, spoken with the conviction and pride of a conquering general, was: “I kept a kosher home.”

Bubby’s mother, like most of her generation, “kept a kosher home,” but many of Bubby’s contemporaries saw the effort as more of a hassle than it was worth. With kosher superstores and overnight refrigerated shipping as realistic as commercial space travel, Bubby’s only recourse was the old-fashioned kosher butcher.

In the early years, Sam Kronik operated a local kosher butcher, a convenience that was unfortunately not sustainable, given the dwindling North Adams Kosher clientele. Once Sam shuttered his store, a new era dawned: Bubby’s kosher butcher expeditions. A two-hour trip by car, Springfield, Massachusetts was home to Bubby’s beloved parents and, providentially, a kosher butcher.