Bruce Kamolnick

Although the Jewish migration from Poland to New York to Miami is an indisputable historical and cultural fact, it seems as though only one of the Domowitz clan chose this particular route: my mother. Marion. She faithfully followed her husband Sidney Kamolnick (my dad) who, through his brother Jack, had a job waiting as a Western Union telegram delivery driver. A job he kept until his retirement.

We were the Miami Beach connection for our New York relatives. It seemed like at least a couple of times every year someone came down to broil in the southern Florida sun, attempting to turn themselves one shade darker - after that first tomato red burn and peel - so that their neighbors and co-workers in NY would jealously comment on that “tan.” Am I right?

There was Judy Simon and her family, there was Mendy Cherney, Ruth and Lenny Sten, my adopted Uncle Foxie Padnik, the Lewises (by way of Los Angeles), and of course the Wysockys: Alice, John, David and Lisa. Which brings me to my story.

Alice Wysocky went onto the Jeopardy game show and won big! For this she was not only declared an outright genius by my family, but also fortuitously became our most frequent visitor from the north. She had won a mobile home in Ft. Lauderdale and 1 year’s paid fees for the space it was on. Lisa was about 2, David was about 6, and John and Alice were about 30, I believe. They came to our house, and we went to their vacation house several times over the next couple of years. The only fixed ritual I remember was going to an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord called The Swedish House. John, although not overweight, was the undisputed champ, and we would joke about how the restaurant would lose money on him, for sure! He had a fantastic appetite. We also went to the ocean, various pools and lakes, and of course I played the piano at our house. (This was my permanent and irrefutable obligation for anyone who came by – even if it were a beggar or someone lost and asking directions or to use our toilet). But a memory I cherish was showing David (and even Lisa) how to play a little bit of blues on the piano. The trick was for them to play only the black keys, while I accompanied them more fully on the left half of the piano.

Unfortunately, it just wasn’t in the Wysocky budget to maintain the mobile home on a permanent basis, and so they sold it after a few years. And it was never in our budget to do much traveling (for example, to New York), so we didn’t see them again for a very very long time. In fact, I never saw Alice again, and still haven’t seen John since then. I only saw David and Lisa 20 years or so later at the L.A. reunion, and then again in Rochester last year.

I suppose all I can say at this point is I’m so glad Alice was a genius, so we could get to spend happy times with her and her family. That surely would not have happened otherwise.