Oct 11, 2008
Morris Bober, a sixty-year-old Jewish immigrant owner of a small Brooklyn grocery store, was slowly being driven out of business by a fancy delicatessen-grocery recently opened around the corner. Rising at six on a cold, windy autumn morning to sell a three-cent roll to a sour-faced Polish woman, Morris began his daily routine of drudgery and frustration. Working long hours in a dreary store, Morris barely made a living for himself, his wife Ida, and his daughter Helen, who desired to go to college and live a meaningful life. Every afternoon Morris escaped the gloom...
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