FanStory Reviewers, please note that this poem is in a reserved position in this book, and that chapters are not congruous until complete. Also, for personal reasons, I am working backwards in my posts.

In addition to the Synagogues, they have the exhibit, "Voices of Lombard Street." This exhibit depicts early 1900's Jewish life and the street was just as widely known as, "Corn Beef Row," because of all the Jewish delis, which were also located in around Baltimore's work hubs.

I loved the storefront they museum has, but for whatever reason, the photograph I took never made it to data on the camera's card and I am not able to go back and retake the pictures I want to use.

This poem actually comes from my maternal side of the family, and is my Grandmother's actual story. She wasn't Jewish, but lived near that area as a Czechoslovakian. Without refrigeration, you went to the butcher and ran the butchered animal or part straight to the pan, or with things like chickens, ducks and geese; let them have a little extra life until you were ready to cook them.

The poem is an adaptation of a previously penned poem, "My Pet Goose." My aunt told me the story and it was not a goose, but a duck. My great grandfather was very popular with the girls because he always gave them wood curls, which they thought was special; not realizing he was a master wood carver and the wood curls were the trash that was produced.

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