In the forties of the twentieth century, New York was one of the busiest ports in the United States and the world, and before the economic crisis broke out, millions of goods and commodities were loaded from here every day and shipped to European countries on the other side of the Atlantic.

After the end of the war in Europe, the industrial raw materials, chemical products, food, fuel, medical supplies, and other materials urgently needed for post-war reconstruction ordered by European countries from the United States are now crammed into warehouses in the port area, and the berthing area outside the port is full of transport ships flying the flags of European countries.

The city was home to 600,000 German immigrants, as well as a significant number of French, British, Irish, Italian, and of course Jews.

At this time, the status of American Jews was not high, and the anti-Semitic sentiment in the United States was actually not much different from that in Europe, although there were indeed some high-ranking Jewish tycoons at the top, but they did not have any right to speak, it was an era when white Protestants controlled everything, and local Jewish capital was very unpopular.

Protestant immigrants from Europe have always had anti-Semitic tendencies, and the United States has a tradition of racial discrimination. After the conspiracy theories about the Jews in the early twentieth century, the Jews became the source of all the scourges.

Some white supremacists even compared Jews to blacks, Jews were spat at and beaten, Jewish shops were looted and smashed, and many of the scenes looked the same as what happened in Germany, and many Jewish families in the United States were forced to abandon their faith and even change their Jewish names to escape attacks from those around them.

The Jewish community in New York has always been very low-key, so low-key that many people are unaware of the existence of such a community, the United States refuses to accept Jewish immigrants from Europe, and many people secretly enter the country without concealing their personal identities. Many of them arrived here completely alone, and when they fled Europe, the checkpoints along the way had already looted their wealth.

There were no rich among these people, more of them were craftsmen or small shopkeepers, and they were generally not highly educated, except for a naturally budget-conscious brain, and there was no competitiveness at all compared with the local laborers.

Fortunately, this group is generally well-organized, and if you don't talk about it alone, at least the community management is still willing to help the newcomers. So far, most of the people in the community have been assigned a job, and it is a matter of opinion if they are not satisfied, but it is basically possible to support their families anyway.

In the eyes of the top management of the Jewish community, the Isaac family was not devout Jews, and it is said that before coming to the United States, they lived in Hamburg, Germany, and opened a traditional German restaurant, where they were known for their home-brewed light ales and special sausages.

After the Nazis came to power, the life of the Jewish businessmen became more and more difficult, and since the six-pointed star of David was painted on the windows of the restaurant, not a single customer has come to the door. On Kristallnacht, when the restaurant was nearly set on fire, but the police turned a blind eye to it, Isaac Sr., who had a keen sense of smell, sensed that disaster was coming, so he hurriedly sold his shop and family property, and took his wife and two children to the United States to join relatives here.

Compared with the latecomer, the old Isaac was extremely lucky, and the Isaac family kept most of the family property and did not encounter any trouble when entering the country. With savings from previous years, they reopened a restaurant on the Lower East Side, still selling home-brewed beers and grilled sausages, and the family quickly caught the attention of the Jewish community's higher-ups because of the good and cheap prices.

Isaac's family had been Germanized for generations, and the only thing that had been associated with Jews was blood, and the elder Isaac did not even speak Hebrew when he came to the United States. But in the eyes of the elders of the Jewish community, this was not a problem at all, and what they needed was the financial resources and influence of the successful businessman, who did not see it now, but the restaurateur was full of potential in the eyes of the elders.

The Isaac family was baptized as Jews under the auspices of the elders, and the elder Isaac was immediately absorbed into the community management, and from then on they would have the power to be assisted by the entire Jewish community, and in turn they would have to assume their share of responsibilities. It was easy to raise money from the Jews in the community, but only if the top management of the community came forward, and soon the elders scraped together a large sum of money, all of which was used to invest in Old Isaac's restaurant.

Soon the German-inspired eatery called Blue Forget-Me-Nots was transformed and moved its head office to Uptown, with three locations in quick succession on the Lower East Side. New York is home to a large number of German immigrants, but oddly few affordable restaurants with an authentic German flavor can be found, so diners come in droves, and in some neighborhoods there are even long queues at the door.

The Isaac family's catering business entered the fast lane, the wealth was accumulated at an astonishing rate, and the profits were returned to the Jewish commoners in proportion to the investment, so the prestige of the community management and the Isaac family rose rapidly among the community Jews with the distribution of dividends.

"William, look what I've gotten." Kashman ran to little Isaac with a paper bag in his hand.

Little Isaac ignored his new friendship in the United States, and slowly pulled a few coins out of his wallet and threw them into the tin cans on the soda stand.

"Thank you very much, sir, please greet your father for me, and wish him a long and healthy life." The old man who sold soda took off his top hat and said respectfully, and it could be seen that he was sincerely thinking so.

Everyone in these neighborhoods knew the boy, and they respected his father as much as a sage, and the Isaac family was already considered a pillar of support by some, and the old Isaac would spend a lot of money every month to support those in need. Of course, he also took out some loans in the community, and the interest rate was sometimes a little higher, but isn't that how the Jews have been coming for thousands of years?

"Let me see where this came from." Isaac snatched the paper bag from his nemesis, and pulled a pistol out of it.

"My cousin gave it to me, and he said there were a few containers piled up on the dock." Kashman replied.

Kashman's cousin was a key member of the docks' union, and he often brought home something that was in high demand, but this time he was clearly playing a little bigger.

"See that? This is a military item, and it's best to find a place to dispose of it, or you'll get into trouble. Isaac pointed out to his friends a line of stamps underneath the revolver's magazine, which read "U.S. Army Property".

"I see, there are no bullets anyway."

"It has nothing to do with whether there are bullets or not, take this thing away from me. I warned you not to get too close to your cousin, or he will end up in jail sooner or later. Isaac said with a serious expression.

"Okay, okay, it's all up to you." Kashman looked frustrated and put the gun back in the paper bag.

"I know it's a disappointment, but it's for your own good, okay, Amy asked her friends out for dinner in the evening, would you like to come along?" Isaac wanted to lighten the mood.

"Really? Isn't it the one who wore the blue dress last time? God, that's decided, what time is the evening? Cashman jumped up for joy and threw the unpleasantness out of the clouds.

After agreeing to meet again with his best friend, Isaac pushed his bicycle home alone.

Although the family was already a small wealthy man, Isaac Sr. still maintained his old ways, and the family still lived in an apartment building on the Lower East Side, but by this time he had become the owner of the building.

Old Isaac is not worried about the security of the area, the surrounding people are all Jewish neighbors, and even the gangsters on the street are all their own people, and the safety is absolutely guaranteed.

Greeting his warm neighbors along the way, Isaac climbed the stairs to the top floor of the apartment, where only one family now lived.

Upon entering, Isaac greeted the maid who was cleaning the porch, a Hungarian-Jewish immigrant who did not speak a word of English.

"Anna, which room is my father in?" Isaac asked.

"Master William, the master is in the study now." The maid replied in German.

"Thanks, Anna, you continue to be busy with your work." Isaac handed the cap to the maid and walked slowly towards the study.

Standing in front of the study door, Isaac knocked lightly.

"Father, I'm William."

"Come in." Old Isaac's majestic voice came from inside the door. Taking a deep breath, little Isaac turned the doorknob, opened the door and walked into the study.

Originally a one-bedroom apartment, the Isaac family bought the entire apartment and renovated the floor to resemble the study in the Hamburg House.

"I just have something I want to talk to you about, son, you can sit down for a while and wait for me to take care of this document." Old Isaac said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

"Yes, father." Isaac walked over to the chair and sat down, his chest straightened and his hands on his knees.

"How's it going in the restaurant?" Isaac Sr. scribbled down a number, then looked up and glanced at his son above the lenses of his glasses.

"It's still the same, nothing special, father." Isaac replied respectfully.

"Got something?" Isaac Sr. signed his name on the form, then closed the ledger.

"Yes, father." Isaac pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his suit and handed it to his father.

"Well done, kid." Old Isaac took the envelope and looked at the light to examine the seal.

"Mr. Philip has asked me to convey to you that you should pay special attention to safety during this time, and wait for the next order at any time." Isaac said respectfully.

"The old guys didn't notice anything, they were full of unrealistic crazy ideas, and they wanted to return to Jerusalem and rebuild the Jewish state. However, as a cover for action, this reason is the best. Old Isaac cut the edge of the envelope with a paper cutter, pulled out the paper, and tossed it aside.

He opened the envelope and spread it flat on the table, then picked up the brass inkwell on the table, opened a secret opening at the bottom, poured the liquid in the sandwich into the lid of the printing box, and then used a small soft brush dipped in the liquid to evenly spread it on the envelope, almost instantly, rows of blue-black numbers appeared on the snow-white envelope.

"Three-eight-five-five, four-zero-four-three... Two-seven-three... Look at this again... Is it twenty-seven? Old Isaac quickly used a pencil to transcribe the contents into a blank financial form.

"This is the key for next week? Father? Little Isaac asked quietly.

"Well, here's the key for our group, take the ashtray over there and burn this envelope." Old Isaac cleaned up the potion on the table, and then inserted the form into the account book at hand.

"When will we be able to get back to Hamburg, father?"

"Don't you like it here, kid?"

"I don't know what to say." The light of the fire sparkled in Isaac's eyes.

"It won't be too long, kid, I promise." Old Isaac walked up to his son and put his arm around Isaac's shoulder.

PS: Continue to ask for a monthly pass, ask for a recommended ticket, ask for a click,

Thank you for your support and encouragement. (To be continued.) )