The grandson of Russian Jewish immigrants shares his family’s tale of small business ownership in the book Dough. Morton Zachter’s grandparents scraped enough money together in the mid-1920s to open the Ninth Street Bakery in New York City. They weren’t bakers, but business-minded individuals who figured out there was a market for reselling, breads, cakes and cookies made by bakeries outside their borough. The tiny shop on the Lower East Side of Manhattan made customers out of city dwellers and nearby restaurants. The family’s tale, a classic illustration of the American Dream, scribbles outside the lines of typical entrepreneurial aspirations. By Zachter’s account, after his uncles inherited the shop, they reportedly worked seven days a week from 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. Their work hard, their lives stale. The men never married, took vacations, or personal days.
And there’s more.
His mother, despite her degree in education and experience as a teacher, gave up her career to work alongside her brothers, almost her entire adult life. Her dedication was greater than her brothers. She never received pay for her work. Not a single crumb.
Zachter doesn’t detail why she made the sacrifice. He only stated that she, “Delved out information like it was sugar and the world was in a diabetic coma.” A high sense of familial obligation I suspect. Homage to her parents, perhaps?
The author grew up and stayed out of the family business. He became an accountant and later went to law school to pursue a second career. He struggled along the way, but never asked for financial assistance from his family. Why would he? They were poor, right? One of his uncles actually offered him two silver dollars to help pay for law school. He declined.
Zacther discovers, after one of his uncles had died and the other was suffering from dementia, that the men had some serious dough. The bachelors lived like paupers and hoarded millions of dollars made in stocks and bonds. Why didn’t the men retire early, sell the store and move to Florida? At the very least, cut back the hours at work, compensate his mother and enjoy life? Zachter investigates this mystery in his 173 page memoir.
After he inherited millions, Zachter discovered that his family’s values had a controlling grip. The man who grew up sleeping in the dinette of his parents’ one bedroom apartment, spent six more years in his unsatisfying career before he gave it up to chase his dream as a writer. A plan, fully baked. His book earned recognition from the Association of Writers and Writing Programs Award for Creative Nonfiction.
The lessons in Zacther’s story are as common as cornbread. Don’t work too much, put family first, forgiveness – the list goes on. However, the author's honest and heart-felt approach, the compelling story, and the glimpse into a slice of life much different than mine made me keep reading.
The book is just as much about familial ties as it is small business ownership. The only problem I have is that I found it tucked in the Biography section of the library. Shelving it under Business could help those who need it most find it before their lives are completely cooked.
