Gila Tal


I have no idea how my father met Eshkol, but there has never been more than a handful of Israelis living in Ottawa. Eshkol’s television sales and repair shop had an oblong white sign with large navy blue lettering hanging outside, the kind you see on cheap motels: Open Seven Days a Week. My brother, Our-Stan, and I hung out there on Sundays and sometimes after school. This allowed my mother to shop uninhibited without the bother of two kids tagging along. She couldn’t leave us at home with my father because he disliked days off. They were something to be avoided like running out of gas or milk. So, we were dropped off at Eshkol’s and tried to stay out of the way while my father worked. ‘Whatever you do, don’t bother Eshkol,’ Abba warned us every week. ‘Without him you wouldn’t have food in your stomachs,’ he added.



To view the content in your browser, please download Adobe Reader or, alternately,
you may Download the file to your hard drive.

NOTE: The latest versions of Adobe Reader do not support viewing PDF files within Firefox on Mac OS and if you are using a modern (Intel) Mac, there is no official plugin for viewing PDF files within the browser window.