Here is my Grandmother's recollection, as I transcribed it from the tape, without, however, managing to capture the distinctive Vilna accent that she retained more than eighty years after coming to America:
The father who would not hear of his little girl going to kindergarten was Athena's great great great grandfather, my grandmother's father. There is this slender thread stretching across one hundred twenty years or more and six generations. Some day, I hope, long after I have died, Athena, all grown up, will read the book I wrote about my grandparents and learn something of her lineage. Perhaps, if I am very fortunate, that book will be passed on to her children, and her children's children. My fondest dream is that, as my grandfather's life in socialist politics inspired me, perhaps my life in the Academy will inspire Athena and her children.