Carnations quivered. A bridesmaid, perhaps, shivered. The chuppah swayed, but Rabbi Bernard D. Marton continuing praying as a temblor attempted to topple the temple where Renée Cohn and Jerry Neuhaus were getting married.
For a moment — at around 3 p.m. on Sunday, June 22, 1947 — San Francisco’s Knesset Israel at 935 Webster Street seemed to be teetering on top of a fracturing fissure.
It was a little unnerving for the bride, who didn’t begin experiencing actual earthquakes until after she made her home along the San Andreas faultline.
But earth-shaking events were nothing new. As a teenager in Hamburg, Germany, she witnessed the crash of Kristallnacht on Nov. 9, 1938, the night of broken glass when Nazis forced her father into a concentration camp.
“He was able to get out,” said Renée Neuhaus, who fled with her parents to San Francisco, where she continues to live. “We were able to get [the] papers.”
Her husband had escaped Spangenberg, Germany, two years earlier. “My aunt and uncle lived here and they urged us to come,” said Jerry Neuhaus.
He, his parents and sister arrived in time to see the opening of the Golden Gate Bridge. His father promptly opened a clothing store, Neuhaus Brothers, on Fillmore near Sutter.
Within a decade, the store was providing a newly married man with a means of supporting his wife and three daughters — who ultimately would produce six grandchildren. One of them is Bulletin correspondent Naomi Frank, who just completed a Kohn summer internship.
Terra firma trembled again in the early ’70s. This time, it was the work of earthmovers that razed the family business.
“Redevelopment tore down the whole neighborhood and rebuilt everything,” said Jerry Neuhaus. “There’s a restaurant there now.”
But that all came later. He first had to meet his bride. They both attended Lowell High School but didn’t run in the same academic or social circles. Instead their eyes were destined to meet during a 1940 Simchat Torah service at Congregation Beth Israel at 1839 Geary Street.
“We just saw each other across the pews,” said Jerry Neuhaus.
“Somehow, we got together after the service,” added his wife.
It was a casual relationship, set off balance by a wobbly world. In 1943 he got drafted by the U.S. Army and shipped out to the war in the Pacific. When he returned, he began studying business courses at City College and working at the store. Meanwhile, she was employed by Wells Fargo Bank.
Eventually, they met again by chance at Beth Israel. This time they renewed their relationship for good.
“The second time we got together, we thought we’d better stay together,” said Jerry Neuhaus.
They drove around in his 1934 Chevy, hiked up Mount Tamalpais and danced at the Jewish Community Center of San Francisco on Saturday nights. Finally, at Playland-at-the-Beach in 1946, they decided to marry, and set off to tell their parents.
“They were happy,” said Jerry Neuhaus, “but surprised, too. They thought we were too young, that we should wait awhile.”
“He was 24 and I was 23,” said his partner. “Our parents were very conservative. They got married in their 30s. It had something to do with World War I and the conditions in Germany at the time.”
None of those things mattered on June 22 as the couple stood on shaky ground under the chuppah.
“We were standing up in the pulpit during the ceremony,” said the groom, “and all of a sudden [the synagogue started rattling].”
“It was very noticeable,” added the bride, “I can remember how strong it was.”
“Everyone sort of looked at each other, but the service was not interrupted,” said the groom.
It was the heat, actually, that was causing the bride discomfort. “It was very, very hot,” she said, “in the 80s or 90s.”
A wedding photo shows the new Mrs. Neuhaus a long-sleeved gown. An announcement in the June 27, 1947 Bulletin described the fabric as “white brocade.”
During a recent interview, she couldn’t remember the material. Her husband, a veteran of the clothing industry, gently suggested it had been made of taffeta.
“No,” said his wife of 50 years, “but I might have borrowed the dress.”
The paper described her matron of honor as wearing a “burgundy colored dress of marquisette,” and two bridesmaids in similar pink gowns. They carried carnations. The groom and three groomsmen wore dark suits.
“It was a nice wedding,” said Jerry Neuhaus, unperturbed by the tremulous act of God on such a momentous occasion.
“We took it in stride,” he said. “We believe in fate.”