LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF - part 2

The child is me, Dolores Friedman (Danska). I was barely 3 years of age. ..and of course, that woman is not my Mother.... it is Marlene Dietrich, the famous actress of the thirties and forties. Ms. Dietrich is selling WW2 war bonds on the boardwalk in Atlantic City, New Jersey. That's what stars did as a way to raise money to help in the war effort back then. Many of Atlantic City's hotels were used to house troops and were tuned into hospitals as well. My uncle Bernie asked her to hold me so he could take a photo. You will note I am dressed like a little Hawaian girl....he dressed me in these Hawaiian outfits as apparently I performed like a trained seal and would dance the 'hulu' upon request.. I was always a performer. I have some of me in this 'hulu' costume dancing on the beach as well. When I aw themovie 'Beaches" with Bette Midler, I pictured myself entertaining the troops on the sand as well.

Uncle Bernie bought me all of my clothes. There 's a photo of me in a book that was written about Atlantic City, where I am in a navy navy spring jacket with little white shoes no older than 3, posing in front of a giant sculpture at leasst 2 stories tall, of a pink, blue and white rabbit on the boardwalk, in front of Convention Hall. It was clearly Easter and I it was Uncle Bernie that bought me that outfit.

He had no children of his own and lived on and off with the only woman he ever loved, Aunt Thelma....a gorgeous woman but an alcoholic just like he was. Periodically, I am told ,....they would both live a 'lost weekend' life in their apartment. They would lock the door, drink everything they had, bottle after bottle, and and would then both have to be admitted into the hospital to 'dry out' .... one of his favorite expressions. He told me he met her when she was a waitress at a local restaurant in town and that he fell madly in love with her. He said men often fell in love with waitresses as they served them food, knew what they liked and didn't like, and always made them feel good and special.

I am told he used to take me to his favorite taverns and I would entertain the patrons by dancing on the bar and being as cute as a 3-year old could be, The rest of the family would always fight with him about taking me to these bars, but it is where Uncle Bernie had his friends and he wanted to show me off. Although he was a dyed-in-the wool alcoholic he wast never too drunk as not to be able to take care of me....you see, my Father, his brother, was not around during that time. He was in prison. I will tell you about that later on.

Anyway, regrding the photo, it was in 1997, while reading an article in Vanity Fair magazine, that this photo of Marlene and myself appeared. Up to then the only place I had ever seen it was on my living room wall. Vanity Fair had one done a featire story on her apartment because her family was selling off her belongings in an upcoming auction and they wanted to publicize what was going to be sold. She had died in 1992 and for five years, her apartment had been left untouched. As I read the story and looked at the photos, I saw this photo in a small frame on a book shelf in her living room.. When I saw it, I froze. What in the hell was my photo doing in Marlene Dietrich's apartment? I immediately called Vanity Fair and asked if a stylist or photo editor had re-arranged the apartment and placed items for purposes of the shoot. Their response was that the photographer had not touched a thing and that it was shot the exact way they found it. I thought long and hard about this and decided, that maybe I was the unknown, illegitimate daughter of Marlene Dietrich? Could this be yet another secret my family kept hidden from me, because at this point I did not know who my Mother was and noone would talk about hr. And furthermore,

Now, deep in my heart, I knew I really wasn't her daughter, but since as I said, I did not know who's daughter I was since I had no information about my mother, except that she was a rumba dancer, that she lived in Panama where I was born, and that her name was ONDRA, or Andra, he was not sure of the spelling. That's all he ever knew. Uncle Bernie said her letters to my Dad, would actually be sent to him, and he would give them to my father, because, God Forbid if Grandmom Dora, would find out about this shiksa nightclub dancer her blessed son was seeing.

Uncle Bernie told me he did not know if my mother was Panamanian or American, if she had any family, why she lived in Panama, if they were ever married or why I was born there. He only knew that she died of ptomaine poisoning and her name sounded like Ondra. That's all I ever knew until many years ago when I wanted a passport so I could travel with the man who was about to become my husband. I then started a correspondence with Panamanian authorities giving them my maiden name, Friedman, the year of my birth, 1939, and the name of the one city my Uncle Bernie remembered, called, Colon. After several letters between the Bureau of Vital Statistics in Panama, this is what they sent me. I now had proof that I was really born in Panama, that I even had a middle name, and that my mother was really dead. And it is all I had up until a short time ago, which is why I am telling my story. The italics are my own.


"NAME OF DECEASED: ANDREA FRIEDMAN (Andrea?? not Ondra?)
AGE AT TIME OF DEATH: 25 (my poor Momma...God, she was so young!)
DATE OF BIRTH (OR DEATH): OCTOBER 7, 1940
NATIONALITY: U.S.
REGISTER NUMBER: 526
PLACE OF DEATH: HOSPITAL AMADOR GUERRERO, COLON, R.DE P.
CAUSE OF DEATH: INTESTINAL OBSTRUCTION - AUTO-INTOXICATION.

It also said her Father's name was John and her Mother's was Helen Young. I had grandparents named John and Helen Young...doesn't sound Jewish to me.....they were definitely American though. But where were they? Were they alive? Were there other children? Did I have any other relatives? I wanted my family, my Mother's family. But how to find them? How to find her? Where was she buried? Who buried her? All I wanted was to find her gravesite and talk to her. To call her a name I only whispered to myself ever since I was a child, "Momma". It was not until many years after I received this document that I was able to do just that. In fact, it was this year.

I know it is just a piece of paper - a death certificate. But you can't understand what this piece of paper meant to me. I don't think so really. Suffice it to say that now I new she lived, and now, for sure, I knew she was dead. No more fantasies. And she was American.. Not Panamanian!

Now I was determined to locate my birth certificate. See I think most people know about their birth because they have been told about it, they have parents and family that talk about it...but me, I knew nothing and nobody would ever talk about it! It was always such a secret. Lots of secrets in my family, such as I had and I will share them all with you. So getting my birth certificate meant everything to me. And when I finally got it, well of course, it only led to more questions.

CERTIFICATE OF BIRTH: Register no. 100288
FULL NAME OF CHILD: Dolores Elizabeth Friedman (Wow! I had a middle name. Never knew that.)
SEX OF CHILD: Female
DATE OF BIRTH: June 5, 1939
FATHER: Joseph Friedman - age: 35
MOTHER: Elaine Ruth Ondra age: 28, White ( So Elaine was her name- not Ondra...or so I thought!)
BIRTHPLACE: U.S.A.
OCCUPATION: Housewife (that's a joke!)

Now here comes the big payoff...the kicker as they say:
NUMBER OF CHILDREN BORN TO THIS MOTHER INCLUDING PRESENT BIRTH: Two.

Two? Who was the other child? Where was the other child? I had a sister or brother and no name and no way to find them. I lived with this information for years and years... that is until I received a phone call late one night.