Shirt

I'm helping research a documentary about early 20th century Jews and their "business" dealings. Basically I'm transcribing a few paragraphs every page, directly from a book to create a portfolio of research materials to present to potential investors. So I'm near the end of the book, and I'm reading about all these Jewish gangs that would go out regularly and fuck up any Nazi rallies or marches or meetings. One of my favorite passages is from one of the leaders of a New Jersey Jewish assault gang, Puddy Hinkes: "(His) most famous exploit occurred at Schwabben Hall on Springfield Avenue bordering the German neighborhood in Irvington. According to Hinkes, 'The Nazi scum bags were meeting one night on the second floor. Nat Arno and I went upstairs and threw stink bombs into the room where the creeps were. As they came out of the room, running from the horrible odor of the stink bombs and running down the steps to go into the street to escape, our boys were waiting with bats and iron bars. It was like running a gauntlet. Our boys were lined up on both sides and we started hitting, aiming for their heads or any other part of their bodies, with our bats and irons.'" Holy shit. Imagine sitting in your office, and you start to smell something horrible. You run outside to escape the smell only to be beaten by BATS AND IRON BARS. Now imagine that your office was run by Nazis. Actually, go ahead and imagine being a Nazi yourself, because that would help my metaphorical imagery work. Here's my story: In the 1930s when the Nazis and Fascists were gaining power they had their respective enforcers, the Brown Shirts and the Black Shirts. In Minneapolis, an anti-Semite William Pelley created the Silver Shirt Legion. When I was a kid, my mother bought me a black, collared shirt, which I thought was pretty spiffy. I don't actually remember WHERE I ever wore it because when I tried to wear it to Shabbat services, my mother told me I couldn't because of the Black Shirts. Besides the fact that this was FIFTY years after the Black Shirts existed, why in heaven's name of all that is holy would she buy me that stupid shirt if I couldn't wear it? Was I going to wear it to school? Instead of my "Kiss my Ice" No Fear-brand shirt, and corduroy shorts? If I'm correct, I wore that shirt for one day in my entire life and that was the year 2000, to my final high school jazz band performance- where for one, glorious, musical night,- I was the Fascist I had always wanted to be.