In a poignant passage, Jackson describes the shame he felt in his early days in America, when he traded his name Hillel Tzvi Yachnowitz for Harry Jackson.
"Inside of me in my hidden me I did not like this entire idea. It looked to me as if I had died, but of course not for real, because I momentarily came back to life; that is I have resurrected. The name Harry by itself was hard and strange to me, and I did not like him very much. I felt that this here fellow Harry is sort of a stranger to me; one that invaded my private life without getting my heart and my head to agree to him, and I really tried to revolt against it. Imagine me named after one of the greatest Rabbis that ever lived. One that was known for kindness and leniency. One that I met in my studies in the Gomorrah and Talmud. That Rabbi Hillel that every Passover at Sader (sic) were cited what he said. Thus said Rabbi Hillel, thus did Rabbi Hillel. Hillel was an institution, and world with millions of followers, and I humbly say, I was his namesake. It gave me a certain pride to be named after such a noble character, and all of a sudden, I am not Hillel; just Harry. Who was Harry? To me he was a nobody. To me he is a nobody now 50 years later."