Oral Histories: Leo

Kindly note: Leo Epstein was unable to sit for a portrait due to illness. We hope to photograph him and upload this soon. In the meantime, we hope you will enjoy photograph of his son, Daniel. One of three generations currently working in EPRA Fabrics.

A little bit about my own background. I was born in Berlin on the 19th December 1932, and for the first few years when Hitler came to power there were restrictions, but the situation in Berlin, it wasn't good, but it was a bit better than anywhere else because all the newspaper correspondents from all over the world were there. All the embassies were there, seeing what was going on. So they behaved themselves a little bit while in the outlying places they didn't. But in December '38, there was the infamous Kristallnacht, which I remember clearly. And my wife says, "You weren't even six years old, how could you possibly remember it?" Now I say "Something like that. You don't forget." However young you are, something like that. It literally came from one day to the next and it's in your mind. You don't forget it. My father was rounded up like all Jewish men were rounded up in Berlin. I don't use the expression arrested because criminals are arrested. Jews are rounded up and send to concentration camps. In those days, Germany wanted to make the point that the Germans wanted to make Germany what they called expression in German is Judenrein: free of Jews. They wanted a Germany free of Jews. So in those days before the war, if you could get a visa to leave England, to leave Germany, so you could get released, provided you leave within 24 hours because they didn't want people to go into hiding and say, why don't you leave? You can go. And my mother, somehow or other, she was a very determined woman. There were queues of hundreds of people, but she managed to get a visa for the whole family or something my parents, my late sister and myself to come to England. And I always say, I always joke that I'm more British than the British because speaking to my mother, she says, people went to every embassy going in and the door was just closed, the only one giving - because there were conditions and so on - the only country giving visas at that time was England. And she managed to get a visa. With that visa my mother had to take it to some office. And they said, right, within 24 hours he [my father] would be released on condition he leaves right away. If we find he doesn't leave the country right away and will be arrested, as they say, you'll never get out. So my father came home and we literally locked up the apartment on the spot and left the country. We had situations, we got to the border, the customs control, the Germans didn't like the look of you and they'd send you back. And also you were not allowed to take any money, you were allowed to take ten [deutsch] marks with you, which is probably about ten shillings. So I couldn't take anything with you, but you can spend it there. So my father, my parents decided they're going to fly out. In those days, we went to the airport and just spoke to take it from the first plane, go to this general direction, which was a plane went to Holland. It was in the right direction. We got on that plane and went to Holland and from there we took a boat and ended up in Liverpool Street Station and we came here as penniless refugees. And going on a bit further, in 1956, I was getting married and my father turned to me and says, "How can you get married? You're not making a living". Which I wasn't. And together with a friend we got a job of selling fabrics and Brick Lane was the centre of what they used to call in Yiddish the schmutter trade, the rag trade. Every single shop, without exception, was either fabrics, haberdashery, curtains, fabrics, garments, dresses, hats. Anything to do with fabrics was in Brick Lane and there was a little shop available on the corner, which was £6.50 a week rent, which I had sleepless nights about. People advised me to take it. Get some fabrics. Everyone else is making a living in Brick Lane. You're also make it. And we haven't looked back. And now I've got three generations working in the business.

But one of the reasons they were also in those days, what they call Jewish trades. Now there were only one or two Jewish trades. There was at that time the, as I said, the schmutter business, the rag trade. In those days there was a big fur trade which doesn't exist anymore. That was also mostly in Jewish hands. And I think Hatton Garden, the jewellery trade that was part of that and all the other professions were closed [to us]. But if you didn't have the we call it the "right school tie". But the area has changed a lot for various reasons. One of the main reason it's changed, of course, because the different immigrants that came in. And when the Asian immigrants came in, a lot of people felt uncomfortable. They weren't used to it. Today, you see Asians and Bengalis and Somalis everywhere. But it was it was new and they weren't comfortable to have Asian people next to them so they started moving away and they sort of slowly took over. And also in those days, this area, the East End, was known as being cheap. Rent was cheap. So that's where people started. But I've always felt comfortable and I always say, quoting my father, "We were made comfortable when we came as refugees". And I've got on extremely well with them. Now they have become my friends, not just neighbors.

We've become really... Because when they started, I used to go in and say, "Look, I've been here forever. If you need any help, you need any assistance, anything I can help you with. I want you to be successful as well". Now, I've made them welcome the same way people made my parents welcome. Maybe other people didn't have that experience so their relationship to refugees was not the same, but that's been my sort of mantra the whole time. "Compassion?" [Interviewer?] "Yeah. And you know..." "And kindness?".

Yeah, I was a kid. I didn't remember. But the way my father described it, people were very kind to him so why shouldn't I be welcoming to any other refugees that come to this area? It's actually slowly. It's not becoming an Asian area anymore. If you look out even just love outside the door, you have to look hard to find that Asian business. One or two still here like we stayed. But most of them, cause the original ones are all moving away. And now it's different people because it's they've decided this is trendy. To me it looks the same slum as it always did...

But I don't like it myself. But that's being old fashioned. I like it the way it was, you know, all the little shops are going, they can't afford the rents. So if they want a newspaper in the morning, they have to jump in the car and drive. You know, there's nothing in the whole docklands there. Little shops, no newsagents because it's too expensive. And slowly this is happening in Brick Lane. I can see it, you know, the little shops are closing. People knew their neighbors, they talked to their neighbors... I knew exactly how many kids they go to this to tell me what they're doing and how they're getting on in school. And they knew about my kids eventually. Not anymore. One doesn't... That's gone. But I don't think it's only in Brick Lane. It seems to have gone everywhere. No one ever called anybody. Mr. So-and-so. Hello, Guv'nor when they came in in the morning and was nothing formal. Today it's "Good Morning, Mr. So-and-so" you know, in those days it was always, everyone used to say, "Hello Guv'nor, Goodnight Guv'nor" and used to tell the governor all their problems and he used to know about everybody. But today it's all become impersonal that's probably not just Brick Lane. That's everywhere.

My Jewishness. It's probably a mixture of everything. I mean, why am I Jewish and why am I religious? Because my parents were. That's where I grew up. If my parents wouldn't have been, I wouldn't be either. I didn't choose it. It chose me, if you know what I mean. But talk about religiousness. I mean, I wear a kippah [skullcap] my son wears a kippah, my grandson wears a kippah, we walk around here. Absolutely, you know, comfortable doing that. Never had any comments, never heard any... never. Also because they also wear distinctive things. But particularly if you come on a Friday when when they all go to the mosque, they all wear their things. They were similar to this but slightly higher ones and so on. They wouldn't do it. But I mean, even from other people, I've never had a comment.

But the only reason we're still here, I think, is me. I like it here. I don't know. I just like the area and I like the people and I like to see the way the area has changed. That's what I grew up with. Too old to change.