A Glamorous Era

As a member of a religious and ethnic minority in a Southern town, Robert Goldberg, a Jewish man, knew discrimination.

- Laurie Prince

His family began immigrating to America from Latvia at the turn of the century and had done well buying textile mills. But despite their wealth, they were socially ostracized by some. Congress passed an immigration act making it difficult for additional friends and family to come to America. Universities set quotas on Jewish students. They were barred from the country club, and their community was so small, they had nowhere to worship.

Robert Goldberg outwitted this prejudice by hiring one of the best architects in the South to build a mansion big enough for parties, meetings, and even worship services. The rabbi, after all, didn’t mind conducting a service in a home. He’d been circulating for years. Sometimes, the faithful met in stores.

When the house was finished in 1924, it was grand—a stunning brick mansion with stucco ornament, Palladian windows, and even a pool. It’s so stately that it looks like it’s always been there. When friends push open the massive front doors, they gasp. The foyer is big enough for a hundred people. The curving staircase draws the eye up to a second-floor balcony and fancy, barrel-vaulted ceilings. Chandeliers sparkle and floors gleam.

“From our understanding, because they were Jewish, they couldn’t get into the club, and so they built this to really be a social gathering place,” Jessica Churchill says. She and her husband, Alex, bought the Gastonia house 10 years ago. Designed by Atlanta architect Neel Reid, it was the only single-family Reid home outside of Georgia. “It’s got a ballroom; it has the first in-ground, lighted pool in North Carolina; it had electric outlets in the sunken patio outside for the band,” Jessica says. “It was built to be grand, but a welcoming place.”