The Skeleton in my Closet

My uncle, Hafis Salich, served time in San Quentin as a Russ­ian spy. Honest.

My mother’s fam­i­ly had to leave Rus­sia when the com­mu­nists took over. Born in Moscow, she was sev­en years old when they left. At least, I think so. My mother’s birth date was list­ed as Jan­u­ary 1,1917. I have been told that is a guessti­mate, that her birth records had been destroyed. My grand­moth­er, Hadi­cia Salich, lived with us the first sev­en­teen years of my life. Did she for­get? Do they have a dif­fer­ent cal­en­dar in Rus­sia? Nev­er have understood.

My uncle Hafe was ten years old­er than mom. The fam­i­ly ran a hard­ware store, had a coun­try estate, and sided with the czar and the White Rus­sians. When the com­mu­nist revolt suc­ceed­ed, they had to flee Moscow. I used to tell this great sto­ry about how my grand­fa­ther had to sneak his fam­i­ly aboard a train going through Siberia, and how he him­self took a bul­let in the thigh as he was climb­ing aboard. The last time I men­tioned it to my moth­er, she said it wasn’t true. My poor cre­ative writ­ing classes.

From Rus­sia they moved to Japan. My grand­fa­ther worked very hard and in sev­er­al years had estab­lished anoth­er pros­per­ous hard­ware busi­ness. Then they lost every­thing in an earth­quake. His whole store was destroyed, and every­thing they had was invest­ed in the busi­ness. A bro­ken man, he moved his fam­i­ly to Cal­i­for­nia and got a job as a jan­i­tor at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia in Berke­ley. He still held that job when he died sev­er­al years lat­er. (My moth­er met my father at that school.)

My uncle was a bril­liant man. He spoke sev­en lan­guages (not sure how flu­ent­ly). In Cal­i­for­nia he got a job at a muni­tions plant, and in 1929 he was con­vict­ed of sell­ing secrets to the Rus­sians. Time Mag­a­zine had an arti­cle about him. My sis­ter Diana looked it up once for a school project. He served about two years in San Quentin. 

His life turned out to be a waste. He became a Cer­ti­fied Pub­lic Accoun­tant in San Fran­cis­co and had a nice house near Lom­bard Street, but he went through three wives and a whole lot of alco­hol. He died of cir­rho­sis of the liver.

My only last­ing mem­o­ry of him: he was vis­it­ing our house in Drex­el Hill, Penn­syl­va­nia and he was show­ing off his lit­er­a­cy in French, hold­ing court in the liv­ing room with a drink in one hand. My sis­ter Diana (who had to be in ele­men­tary school) point­ed out that he had mis­pro­nounced a French word. He stared at her, blinked, and said, “You are absolute­ly cor­rect.” Dur­ing the rest of his vis­it, he must have retold that sto­ry sev­en­teen times, always end­ing it by pok­ing his fin­ger emphat­i­cal­ly in the air and say­ing, “And she was right. And she was right!”

My moth­er used to tell me that I most remind­ed her of her broth­er Hafis. We both had mean-look­ing eyes. Yikes.

Adden­dum: I just found out from my sis­ter Mered­ith that he was sen­tenced in 1939 to four years, but only served sev­en months. And it wasn’t San Quentin, it was a prison in Wash­ing­ton. Damn! I’ve tak­en the fer­ry past San Quentin at least ten times, often think­ing nos­tal­gi­cal­ly about my uncle. (And Karen says my eyes don’t look any­thing like his.)

Comments

  • I’m in favor of White Rus­sians also. That’s how my daugh­ter came into the world.

    Gretch28 May, 2020

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