Dot Trager at the Seng Beauty Shop, once the location of Nessie's Fruit Store South Seventh Street

When it came Passover time it was just fantastic. My Bubba and Zayda used to hire the benches from the synagogue. It's a house like this small, and she put in long benches and every one of the children's wives and her daughters all cooked at home and brought everything there. My grandfather sat on this great big pillow with a big white beard and he had the seder 'til maybe one, two o'clock in the morning. It was nice. I remember when they had the glass of wine for Eliyahu to come in, the kids would shake the table. One time my grandmother went to open the door, the cat came in. Well that started us off hysterical. But it was good times.

Now look where I'm at. There's not one Jew there. There's nobody there. I'm the only Jew in the street here. The first house, there's Asians. Across the street there's Muslims. And there's so many black that have moved in. I don't care that they're black. But they're loud and they make up their own rules and regulations. We never had big trashcans standing outside all week long. You have a yard; that's what it's for. It's horrible, horrible.

I don't live in this street. I live in my house. This is my home. And I told that to the kids. No matter what happens, this is where I want to be. Yes, indeed, I love it down here. Even now there's still some things there that are just great.