Vinnie once told me, “I want to be like Alan Freed, gathering in all these souls. I go on there like a volcano. It can be too much. If I’m depressed I can bring them so low.”
That Monday night we all gathered expectantly. Vinnie had told us a month ago that on that night the daughter he hadn’t seen for fifteen years, since she was three, would be coming to Frankie D’s to see him.
We waited: Billy the bellhop, Charlie the cop, Julie the teacher, Art the labor arbitrator, Vito the construction worker—the whole gang. Vinnie and his father sang “Heart of My Heart.” Vinnie’s Aunt Nina took pictures. We waited. She had to show. Everybody roots for Vinnie: to find another wife, to go beyond Frankie D’s. He’s forty-two and seems to want nothing for himself. He’s had two. “In my religion, the Catholic religion,” he said, “it’s for life.”
“It’s crazy,” he said. “Which is the real marriage—the first one, that the Church said was real but I was scared to death, or the second one, when I really loved her?” He still wears the ring, although his wife has been gone for years.
A blond girl came through the swinging door. Big Dan from Wall Street took her arm and escorted her to Vinnie. She smiled. Vinnie sang “Baby Face.” We stood on table tops.
“To all of you,” Vinnie said, “who have told me of wanting to find your heart’s desire—now I understand what you meant.”
And he took his daughter in his arms and danced with her.
Then Vinnie sang “Cheek to Cheek,” and he remembered that when he was six, he was watching Fred and Ginger dance to it on TV and that suddenly his Aunt Nina and Uncle Mario were whirling around the room in front of the TV. Big Dan bowed to Aunt Nina then, and while Vinnie played and sang “Cheek to Cheek,” Aunt Nina dipped and whirled in the arms of Big Dan.
I watched Vinnie, his daughter Maria, his father Rocco, his Aunt Nina. At 1 A.M. Vinnie’s new girl came off work. Red-haired and nurturing, a good, solid face; she pressed up behind Vinnie and put her arms around him.
Around 3:30 Big Lou, the bartender, did his specialty, but he did it differently; he sang it to Maria at the bar—”Slow Boat to China.” We were rocking, we were whirling; Maria had come home.
I began to write this book in 1980 and have published sections of it in Heartless, Get a Job, and other reactionary literary magazines. Yet for eight years I continued to walk through the front doors of “progressives” without incurring suspicion or hostility. Sometimes I was afraid. But my fears were usually unjustified. These people never read anything that contradicted their world view.
But in 1988, at Fat Tuesday’s, a club in Manhattan, I ran into the “progressive historian” of the Rubell case I had written about in the chapter called “The Prince of Progressive Humanity.” This was the scholar who believed the Soviet Union had never once engaged in espionage because the Soviet constitution forbade it. I had had such a streak of luck all these years that I may have been a little giddy by then. On the way out, I shook the historian’s hand, and reminded him who I was.
“How dare you shake my hand?” he screamed, his face livid. “Fie! Fie! You wrote that horrible story. Get outta here. Such a terrible betrayal!” He shouted to everyone around him: “Don’t talk to him. Don’t say a word! That’s Gerald Lerner! He wrote that story in Heartless! You’ll wind up in the files of the F.B.I.!” His shouts followed me down the street.
His feelings were understandable: I nailed him in the story with his own words. I did not, however, quote one thing he told me: that when he took a date to a Rubell rally in the 1950s, with emotions so high, he always got laid.
Wait a minute. This is not what he actually said. I softened it. What am I afraid of? The Rubells left a legacy of love, didn’t they?
What he said was that he always took a date along with him when he took the Rubell children to see the Rubells at Sing Sing. Afterward, he said, he always got laid.
Catch me some Monday night at Frankie D’s. The little guy at center stage, in the spotlight, singing “Heart of My Heart.”
The F.B.I. Log
The F.B.I.’s version of events. If you have a warm bone in your body, you will disregard it.
—G. L.
Teletype June 20, 1950. The following information obtained by Special Agent Tabackin on subject Solomon Rubell. Born November 3, 1919, New York City. Father: Ben Rubell, same address, born Russia. Came to U.S. at age fifteen and naturalized five or six years before World War I. Mother: Sarah Rubell, nee Goldberg, came to U.S. and naturalized through husband.
First job: Frederick Electric Company, 25 East 63rd Street, New York City. Next job: soda clerk, 1938, Joffe’s Pharmacy, Seventh Avenue and 132nd Street, New York City. May to June 1942: tool designer, Richards Company, 42nd Street and Sixth Avenue, New York City.
Married Dolores Stern, April 1942 in New York City. First marriage for both. Her parents, both born in Russia, are naturalized. Subject claimed to own no property and to possess personal property worth $180. Maintains joint savings account with wife at Manhattan Savings Bank, Delancey and Essex streets, New York City. 1942 balance about $203. Only income is from salary. No debts. Avocations of subject given as aviation, radio, attending movies, folk dancing, playing checkers and chess, Ping-Pong and tennis. Physical description: 5 feet 71/2 inches, weight 142, no physical defects.
Subject denied membership in the Communist Party or any subversive group, though admitted sometimes feeling “moony” about the contributions made by the Soviet Union to the war effort.
Teletype June 23, 1950. Interview with Hershie Stem. Solomon Rubell asked Hershie Stern’s wife, Jelly, if he, Hershie Stern, would give information to the Soviet Union. The USSR was fighting the enemy and was entitled to the info.
Hershie Stern is the brother of Dolores Rubell, Solomon’s wife. Stern has stated that on or about October 3, 1944, his wife Jelly arrived in New Mexico from New York City and advised him that Solomon had requested that he furnish information to the Soviet Union. Hershie agreed.
Hershie Stern advised that Rubell had two apartments for microfilming in New York City, one in Greenwich Village. Joe Klein rented the apartment at 29 Perry Street from Rubell, maintaining it until 1947. Klein turned it over to Robert Metzger in 1947.
Stern identified Sid Smorg from newspaper pictures as the individual who contacted him sometime during the summer of 1945 for information. Hershie admitted to having received $800 from Smorg on this occasion. Hershie furnished Smorg with a list of persons who he thought could be approached for information. Hershie said he gave Smorg a sketch of the bomb. Smorg advised Stern that he would come back to see him again. However, no further contact was made by Smorg.
Stern furnished the following information regarding Solomon Rubell: he resides at 110 Catherine Street with his two children and his wife Dolores (or Dolly), who is Hershie Stern’s sister. Rubell is the owner of Great Machine Products, 389 Madison Street, New York City. Solomon Rubell is thirty years of age, a graduate student in engineering at City College. Stern knows that Smorg has positively identified himself as the soldier he met in June 1945 in New Mexico.
Teletype July 5, 1950. Solomon Rubell interviewed by agent Tabackin for 80 minutes. Rubell appeared to be frightened but was unresponsive. After calling his lawyer and being advised he could leave, he politely departed.
Teletype July 7, 1950. In view of Hershie Stern’s confession and Solomon Rubell’s imminent arrest, it is deemed advisable to interview Robert Metzger, Joe Klein, and Jed Levine regarding their possible involvement in espionage as part of Rubell’s network. With respect to these three, it is desired you give careful consideration and preparation for these interviews and institute them as soon as possible. You should in the course of these interviews attempt to secure consent to search individuals’ residences. You should bear in mind that these individuals do not know that Rubell has not confessed. They should be utilized by attempting to have them furnish us details concerning their espionage activities with Rubell.
Teletype
July 7, 1950. 7 P.M. Supervisor Webster of the New York office telephonically furnished the complaint which had been drawn up against Rubell, charging him with a violation of Section 34 of Title 50, U.S. Code. The complaint was sworn due by Special Agent Tabackin before Federal Judge John F. McCuddihy. Thereafter issued a bench warrant for Rubell’s apprehension. The warrant was issued at 5:35 P.M. and Special Agents Tabackin and Steiner were dispatched to apprehend Rubell, who has been under intensive surveillance for the last several hours following a determination by the department that he should be apprehended.
8:35 P.M. Sergeant O’Neill called to advise that the subject had been apprehended at his home at 7:18 P.M. and the agents were conducting the search of his apartment incidental to arrest. At 8:30 Sergeant O’Neill called to advise that the search would be completed at 8:45, at which time Rubell would be brought to the office to be arraigned before a federal judge.
9:15 P.M. Special Agent Steiner advised that the search was practically completed and Rubell would be brought to the office promptly.
Addendum: at 9:48 P.M. A.S.C. Burwell advised that Rubell had been brought into the U.S. courthouse for fingerprinting and photographing. As a matter of record, he advised that the agents entered Rubell’s apartment at 7:18 P.M. and completed the search at 9:25 P.M. No trouble was encountered. Dolly, Rubell’s wife, made typical Communist remonstrances, demanding a warrant and wanting to call an attorney. She was told to keep quiet and get in the other room with the children, which she did. Inasmuch as the children were making a considerable fuss and Dolly Rubell refused to talk, she and the children were dispatched to her mother’s home in the company of two agents. At 9:32 P.M., Special Agent Tabackin advised that they would attempt to talk with Solomon Rubell for about an hour to see if he would cooperate, after which he would be bought before Judge McCuddihy.
At 10:10 P.M. Special Agent Steiner advised that Dolly Rubell had called attorney Henky Rubin, who is well known for his Communist connections. Rubin contacted U.S. Attorney Marv Duboff, and Rubell would not talk without consulting his attorney. Therefore agents are going to arraign him.
At 10:25 P.M. Special Agent Tabackin advised that the subject was being taken down to Mr. Duboff s office. Duboff had come in from New Jersey for the arraignment.
At 11:55 P.M. Special Agent Tabackin advised that Rubell was arraigned before Judge McCuddihy and remanded to the custody of the marshal in lieu of $100,000 bail. The hearing was set for July 25 with the right to make motions between now and that time. Special Agent Tabackin advised that considerable data, such as checkbooks, papers, cameras, etc., resulted from the search, and the agents are going over them carefully to see what is pertinent.
Inasmuch as it appears that Rubell will not be cooperative and the indications are definite that he possesses information concerning the identity of a number of other individuals who have been engaged in Soviet espionage, New York should consider every possible means of bringing pressure on Rubell to make him talk. A careful study should be done of the involvement of Dolly Rubell in order that charges can be brought against her if possible.
Teletype July 20, 1950. Mr. Stevens called from New York at 12:20 A.M. to advise that the interview with Jed Levine had been completed. He said Levine appeared to be cooperative. A signed statement regarding what he knew had been obtained from Levine, and he voluntarily consented to a search of his premises, which has been done.
Levine contended that Rubell contacted him several times beginning in 1944. Levine was working for the Bureau of Ordnance in Washington, D.C., on fire control equipment for naval vessels. Rubell spoke of the Russian war effort and the sacrifice of the Soviets and said some people were contributing to the Russian war effort by giving them info on secret material and developments. He asked Levine to contribute by giving reports and drawings concerning the projects on which he was working. On about eight occasions Rubell solicited Levine for information. But Levine maintains he never gave it, either orally or in writing. He finally told Rubell he had thought the matter over and could not go along with him.
He then told Rubell he was contemplating going to New York City to work for the Howland Instrument Company on fire control equipment. Rubell expressed his disappointment and said he would prefer that Levine stay with the Bureau of Ordnance.
Levine advised that Rubell told him that Maury Ballinzweig, Levine’s neighbor, who was employed at the Howland Instrument Company at the time, was one of the persons furnishing information to the Russians. Ballinzweig left the Howland Instrument Company about the beginning of July, 1950, and failed to return. His whereabouts are unknown. He left his residence on about July 5, 1950, with his wife and child, and his sister-in-law, who is now occupying his home, advised Levine that Ballinzweig “has gone to the farm to recuperate.”
Levine said that recently Ballinzweig appeared to be very nervous. Bureau files state that Maury Ballinzweig was born on June 3, 1917, in New York City. His parents were born in Russia. He is married to Linda Ballinzweig, and resides directly in the rear of the Levine home.
Ballinzweig is a graduate of the City College of New York, with a bachelor’s degree in engineering. He was employed by the Navy Department, Bureau of Ordnance, in Washington, D.C. from 1939 through 1941, when he resigned to enter the University of Oregon. He and Levine roomed together in Washington, D.C. Earlier they had attended the City College of New York together. He was active in the American Youth Congress and the American Peace Society.
A complete review of all our references on Ballinzweig has not been made as yet. This will be done immediately.
Every effort should be made to locate Ballinzweig immediately.
Teletype July 25, 1950. In connection with espionage activity of Solomon Rubell, recently arrested, he operated a network probably including Robert Metzger, employee of National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, Pittsburgh, Pa.
Every attempt should be made to locate and thoroughly interview Joe Klein, last known address—23, rue Lagore, Paris. Klein formerly worked in the Army Signal Corps, Fort Monmouth, New Jersey. In 1949 he went to Holland to study butterfly art. Visited inland, thereafter went to France. Stern said that Rubell told him Klein had left because he feared his espionage activities would be exposed. Klein should be closely questioned re apartment 29 Perry Street on whether photo equipment maintained in that apartment was for espionage purposes. He should be questioned re his ownership of Leica camera and where he obtained it. He should be asked when he intends to return to U.S.
The Death House, 1954
Solly Rubell near the end of the road.
—G. L.
If Solly Rubell were asked before that week if he were sure of what he had done, he would have said yes. There was always the terror of dying. But the worst thing was this dot of doubt.
A former comrade who’d fought in Spain had written him in the death house. He had been taken off guard.
Dear Comrade Solomon:
I’m a Lincoln vet.
I want to tell you what you’re dying for.
This letter is going to light a firecracker up your ass.
Here is what I know …
The vet had a foul mouth, but the letter clanged in his head. Then he’d wanted to burn it, but he had to keep reading, until the world seemed to be turning upside down. He couldn’t keep it out of his headaches and nightmares at night.
The vet wrote of Spain. And of the Soviet Union: starving men and women, peasants and workers, sores oozing from their faces and legs, gathered at garbage cans looking for food during collectivization. Rounded up by guards with whips and guns. The stoned Pavement scraping their bare feet, tossed like sacks of flour or bales of hay into freight cars, weeping and screaming for help. Taken to areas where they would starve unseen.
Tens of millions tortured to death in concentration camps.
Then the vet told him of the Jewish doctors’ plot, the murder of Peretz Markish and the other Yiddish poets, the Slansky trial in Czechoslovakia.
; Comrade Solomon, I come from where you come from. Once I thought I knew the score too. I put my body on the line for Stalin, that putz, that sadist, like you are doing now. But this is fascism, comrade. This is the most anti-Semitic regime on earth—shit and filth and torture and human suffering like you can’t believe.
Is this worth dying for? Sacrificing your children for?
Sammy Kuznekov
He tried to tell Dolly about the letter. She rose up, proclaiming, “What? You too? Methinks you’re beguiled by their offers of forty pieces of silver!” She told him to leave her cell.
She never spoke to him again.
How Sammy Kuznekov Became a Vacillating Element in Spain
Avoid foreign places.
—G. L.
Sammy Kuznekov had been an orphan since the age of two. He came to America from Russia in 1928. He was hungry all the time. He’d ridden the rails, worked on a gas pipeline in Montana, hung around the Wobblies, shipped out as a seaman, and later was an organizer for the farm workers and the Marine Workers Industrial Union. He joined the Young Communist League in Houston, Texas. He had sung with the Wobs:
Shall we always slave and work for wages?
It is outrageous.
In North Dakota he’d seen A. C. Townley, preacher and Silver Shirt, spread straw on the floor at the start of a meeting. As the farmers came in Townley said, “You goddamn bunch of cattle, I hope you feel at home.” They loved it.
Sammy, Jewish, looked like a handsome Nordic devil. A six-foot-two-inch, chestnut-haired, broad-shouldered man, the Party could use him anywhere. J. Peters himself told Sammy, “You look a thousand percent American.”
In 1935 Sammy came to New York City and became secretary of the Young Communist League on the waterfront. He took part in the famed action against the SS Bremen, a Nazi ship. Dressed in a tuxedo, he mingled with the hoi polloi, his brass knuckles hidden. When the signal came, the comrades ran across the deck and up to the front where the Nazi flag waved. The Nazi soldiers, not knowing who was who in the elegant crowd, hesitated. Then they struck out blindly. The Y.C.L.ers, kicking off the Nazis, cut the lanyard and the Nazi flag fell. They sang the “Internationale” as they ran.
Red Love Page 3
