Moe’s unexpected, unbelievable statement stole their breaths away, making it impossible to utter a word

September 1964

Annie had often read the words “a stunned silence” in the women’s novels she enjoyed, but this was the first time she’d actually felt the phenomenon surrounding her. Except for Ruchele, who was playing with her Spalding ball while chanting a nonsense poem (“B my name is Betty, and my mother’s name is Barbara, and we come from Boston and we eat Bananas”), it seemed as if the entire group had been stifled by a heavy, suffocating blanket thrown down upon them. Moe’s unexpected, unbelievable statement stole their breaths away, making it impossible to utter a word.

The quiet lasted for about 45 seconds, and then the questions came hurtling toward Moe with the speed of a well-thrown Frisbee. “You what?” “The Manor House Hotel?” “Uncle Moe, you’re moving with us?” “Moey, you can’t be serious?”

Moe grinned and waited for the hubbub to settle down, clearly enjoying the moment. Then, finally, he spoke. “Look, it makes a lot of sense. We know Coney Island is going downhill, with all those low-income projects being built and the crime rate flying up. The building needs major repairs, and anyhow, soon it’s going to be half-empty. We do have some money for repairs” — this, with a grateful glance at Abe and Annie — “but why put it into something that’s failing? Real estate values are going down in Coney, but we might still be able to get a half decent price for the building.”

He stopped for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then continued.

“Everyone’s going to the Catskills for the summer, and a hotel in the ‘Borscht Belt’ can make some real money. And off-season, we’ll still have the boarders. They’ll have a safe place to live. Mr. Perlstein’s family are not being greedy. They’re asking a fair price. And now,” the grin broadened, “it looks like we’ll have some great neighbors.”