Tag Archives: genealogy

The Tavern in Trzciana Comes To Life

29 Jul

I vividly remember when the movie version of “Fiddler on The Roof” was released.  It was the first Broadway show I had seen in person as a child.  So seeing it again in the movie theater reminded me of the special trip into New York City with my parents and the delight I felt while listening to the songs and learning about Anatevka.  One of my favorite scenes occurs in a tavern where the Polish and the Jewish citizens end up in riotous dance!

The tavern scene has so much more meaning to me now.  I was with my maternal grandfather the first time he saw the movie.  Grandpa was from a small town in Austria/Poland called Trzciana.  When he watched the tavern scene, he turned to me and said, “My family had a tavern just like that.  It looked just like that.”  Anatevka/Tzrciana taverns were interchangeable in my grandfather’s eyes. He said the movie brought back memories of his childhood.

Grandpa did not often speak freely about his family.  Stories came in bits and pieces of memories.  But it was not something you asked about.  It was something that he had to offer because Grandpa’s family all perished in the Shoah.  His parents, his siblings, his aunts and uncles, his cousins, everyone who was in Europe died, except for three.  (See blogs below.)

But that tavern memory has so much more meaning because now I know more about it thanks to the research of Izabela Sekulska who started the Mayn Shtetele Mielec Facebook group.   Izabela has been helping me find out information about my family for about a year now. The documents she finds make the stories I was told by Grandpa come to life.

Izabela recently found a document from the Chamber of Commerce and Industry that  brings the family tavern to life.

Chamber of Commerce and Industry document

My great grandfather Gimple Feuer applied to open a tavern on April 10, 1912, when my grandfather was just over 12 years old.  My Grandpa did grow up with a tavern in his life.  This document from the Chamber of Commerce and Industry states that the location was in Trzciana, Galicia, which was then part of Austria as Poland.  Throughout his life Grandpa said he was Austrian as that part of Galicia became part of Poland after the war. 

At my family’s tavern they sold beer, wine, other alcoholic beverages and tobacco according to this document.  I knew my great grandfather had a farm that included a crop of  grains and grain silos to store the grain.  So having a tavern makes sense, he had the grain to brew the beer.

Grandpa told us stories about cleaning out grain silos and how one time he and his cousin became intoxicated on the fumes from the silo.  They actually became sick and ran to a nearby stream/creek to drink the water and wash the fumes away. He said they almost drowned, they were so drunk.  

As I remembered this story, I  looked for  a map of current day Trzciana online and saw where the Cichawka stream goes through the town.

Thanks to Izabela, I know that there were no street names in Tzrciana, the homes and buildings  were just numbered during the time my grandfather lived there..  And the number of the tavern was 129.   

On the map that  I found online all the buildings are numbered.  There is one numbered 129 close to the creek. Could this be when my great grandfather had his tavern?  I am not sure, but it perhaps the numbers remain the same. 

Now there are addresses and streets. So perhaps with this information we can one day find out exactly where the tavern was located in the town. Perhaps this address is where the family lived, and the tavern was located on their farmland?   

Izabela has asked for help in finding out where this location is now in Trzciana in the Facebook group.  That would make this amazing find so much more amazing.  And it might be that the number 129 is in the same place. And the numbers around it are the places where the other members of my family lived before the war.

Knowing my great grandparents had a tavern, perhaps explains to me why there was actually a trial after the war concerning the murder of my great grandmother during the Shoah.  Perhaps their standing in the community created lasting friendships that existed after the war and lead to people actually testifying about her death. (See blog below.)

No matter what I find about where the tavern actually stood in Trzciana, I do know that from now on whenever I see the story of Anatevka and see the tavern scene, I will think of my grandfather and his family that perished, but I will also remember how they lived.

 

These two pictures are from Google. The show the new house at 129.
If you look closely at the other picture you see this building right next to it. It could be the home of my great grandparents or other relatives!!
Zissel and Shalom: Survivors and Heroes
March 9, 1942: The Destruction Of Mielec’s Jewish Population
The Trial For the Murder of Chava “Gimplowa” Feuer
An Unexpected Email Reveals Family Shoah History

Renewing A Family Connection: My Mother’s Day Gift

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Renewing A Family Connection: My Mother’s Day Gift

21 May

While in Isarel, I finally renewed a family connection which started 50 years ago. When I was 20, I met two survivors of the Shoah. They were married to sisters before the war. The sisters perished in the Shoah, but the two men remained connected for the rest of their lives.

I have written about both of these men before, (Lieb) Zissel Feuer and Shalom Hollander.  Both were distant cousins of my grandfather. But their wives were his first cousins.   I wrote about meeting Zissel and Shalom and what happened to them during and after the war, and a bit about my contact with them in Israel between 1974-76. (See blogs below.). Over the years my perception of the two changed, as I learned more about their lives.

Now I have a different story to share, because I have met Shalom’s oldest son Chaim, as well as the great nephew of his first wife, who is also my third cousin, Jeff, and his daughter.

For me it was a meeting that completed a story.  For them, I hope I was able to fill in stories about the family and answer question about the family before the war.  As we shared our stories, I could see where my knowledge and theirs combined and differed.  I spoke about meeting Zissel at the bakery in Tel Aviv across from the Shuk HaCarmel.   Chaim smiled while I told my stories about meeting Zissel there each time I came to Tel Aviv.  Chaim, of course, knew the bakery and even Zissel’s address.  Although I had been at his apartment several times, I did not remember the address.  But we had other shared memories. 

I think when I talked about the bakery, Chaim knew then that I was really a relative.  I really had met Zissel. I don’t think he thought I was lying , but he had never heard of me, yet there I was a family member from the USA, unknown to him. Also when I told him about meeting his father, how elegant he seemed.  And Chaim agreed, his dad had that old world charm.

Chaim actually made me feel better about Zissel. I knew he did not have a family.  Shalom was not related to him at all, once their wives died.  Shalom. remarried.  Zissel never did.  But Chaim told me that Zissel was always part of Shalom’s family. He came to be with them for all the haggim, the holidays.  That eased my heart.  Really, I am tearing up even now.  For me Zissel was such a sad soul. So to know he was not alone, helped.

We talked about the importance of what Ziseel and Shalom did after the war to help others from Mielec who survived and to keep the memory of those who were murdered. Shalom purchased the land where a mass burial of 800 Jews were buried and put up a fence and a marker.  Both men also testified against those who were the murderers, as Zissel had done for the murderer of my great grandmother, his aunt by marriage.  Our discussion filled in so many blanks for me.

Chaim and his wife gave me memoirs written by both Shaom and his second wife, Ita, about what happened during the war.

I in turn could tell them about those who made it to the United States before the war.

How Julius/Judah/Yidel Amsterdam, my grandfather’s uncle, came first.  As other relatives came to the New York/New Jersey area, he gave them a choice. You can be a butcher or a baker.  There was a cousin who was a butcher, and Uncle Yidel was a baker.  My grandfather chose to be a baker.  Chiam laughed as I told the story, because his uncle who went to the states became a butcher.  I said he was probably helped by my great uncle Yidel as well.

With Jeff, I could talk about his great uncle Morris, who lived in Helena, Montana.  My grandfather always stayed in touch with his first cousin.  I knew one of this sons because when I moved to Kansas, they gave me Jack’s phone number. He lived in Denver.  To my grandfather and his cousin Morris, this was close enough. We never actually met, but we spoke several times.

For me I have a feeling of completion.  When I found out about these relatives, through the research of Izabela S.  I knew I had to see them when I was in Israel visiting my daughter.  They lived quite a distance.  But my daughter said that this was my Mother’s Day gift.  It was the one thing I really wanted to do.  So we took the long drive from Holon to a small Kfar near Netanya.

Over the years of my research I have found out how the members of my family were murdered during the Shoah.  I know how a small numbered survived.  I know that they are not forgotten.  I am not the only who keeps their memory alive within the family.  And there are people like Izabela in Poland, who also work to keep the memory of the  Jewish population alive.

I never thought I would ever want to go to Trzciana or Mielec.  My grandfather never wanted to go back there after his family was murdered.  But now I do want to go. I what to see where they lived. Where Shalom and Zissel created a Jewish community after the war. Where the Amsterdam group hid in the nearby forest. The town where my great grandmother was murdered. The mass grave where my great aunts are probably buried.

But most of all I am so glad that I found out what that Zissel and Shalom did after the war.  I, as a young woman, saw both Zissel and Shalom as such sad people talking about Death.  I did not hear the stories about what they did to give people a reason to LIVE after the war. And to create a place of memory for those murdered.

I now know that Shalom and his wife, who was also a survivor from Mielec, had four children, a girl who survived whom they adopted and three sons.  Chaim and his wife have seven children, 40 grandchildren and 19 great grandchildren so far. 

I know that Zissel was not alone.  That Zissel and Shalom stayed connected throughout their lives.  I also know that Zissel died in Holon.  I think he might be buried there. So next time I am in Israel, I hope to find his grave and put place a rock of remembrance on his matzevot.

The Trial For the Murder of Chava “Gimplowa” Feuer
An Unexpected Email Reveals Family Shoah History
The Years of The Shoah: Lieb Sussel Feuer/Zissel Feuer And Schulim/Shalom Hollander

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Pre-Passover/Pesach Ponderings

8 Apr

At 70 years old, I envisioned that I would be sailing through my retirement years comfortable with my world.  Enjoying my family, watching my country continue to flourish, seeing the United States and its reputation be strong in the world, as my husband and I continued to travel and enjoy visiting new places.

This is a far distant vison than the one my great grandmother faced 82 years ago, when in April 1943, she was murdered by the Germans at age 70 in Poland.  It was the Thursday before Easter, and after her husband and four children had been murdered and her farm and property had been confiscated by the Germans.

My great grandmother is a bit different than the many unknown who were murdered during the Shoah, as there is a record of her last day taken during the trial held after the war for her murder.  I know what she did, what she said, and who killed her. (See blog below.)

For fifty years I had been on a quest to find out what happened to my grandfather’s family.  A quest that started after I spent my sophomore of college in Jerusalem.  A year when I met many members of my family who survived the Shoah and ended up living in Eretz Israel, the land of Israel.

When I returned home, I was the child who said, I need to know.  I sat with all of my grandparents to hear their stories.  I wrote everything down. In the 1970s there was no internet, no easy way to discovered what happened. But I kept my papers and over the years when I met other members of my family I wrote down what they said.  And slowly, slowly the stories came out.

In some instances, I found out history that perhaps I did not want to know.  I learned about my father’s family who came to the USA in the 1870s.  I learned of both tragedies and joys.    

I learned about a great uncle who ended up in a mental institution, a great aunt who died from the Spanish flu, multiple children who died in their infancies; family menbers who did not speak to each other and a child who was raised by an aunt and did not know till she got engaged.

For my mother’s family, both of her parents came to the USA in the early 1920s, I learned about the hundreds of cousins, siblings, parents, all many of relatives that were murdered in the Shoah, as well as ones who had been saved.

I learned about relatives who were on Schindler’s List.  Those who were saved by the Kinder Transport and ended up in England.  A cousin who survived the Kelce Pogrom. Others who hid in the forests near their home town and formed a group like the one in the movie, “Defiance,” but these were my family.

I learned about a relative who converted to Catholicism before the war, but during the war she tried to save her sibling and her children. She was not successful.  Their bodies were found buried in a field when construction was being done about three years ago. The driver of the vehicle was the grandson of the relative who converted, so Catholic himself.  He had dug up the bodies of his own dead Jewish great aunt and her family.  Can you imagine the irony of this? 

I learned that owning property or having money does not save you.  What might save you is luck, fortitude, or relatives who might have a chance to get your out.  But you also had to make your own luck.  You had to want to survive.

My great grandmother finally gave up. Everyone was dead, she had been hiding in the forest with others for a while.  But then she was done. It was too much sorrow. Too much loss.

In this world with the chaos and uncertainty surrounding the economy; the round up of immigrants, even those with legal residences; the job losses; the attacks on education; the attacks on the rights of LGBTQ communities; the rise in anti-Semitism and hatred toward Israels and Jews, I have had to re-evaluate.

Could our property be confiscated?  Could our savings be stolen?  Could people in the USA be forced to hide in the woods to stay safe?  Will people just give up?

Am I really so different from my great grandmother whom I am named after?  Should I consider my own exit strategy?  Believe me my mind often mulls over the options. 

But it is the Tuesday before Pesach and Easter.  It is two days before the 82nd anniversary of my great grandmother’s murder by the German mayor of Czermin, Jukub Hesler.

So I am pondering and considering and hoping that our Constitution is strong enough. That our courts are strong enough. That our elected politicians remember who they vow allegiance to:  The CONSTITUTION of the United States of America.  And who they serve, the people of their states and districts.

I wish everyone a Zissel Pesach, a happy Pesach.  And I wish all who celebrate Easter a happy Easter.  And I wish to everyone throughout the countries of the Earth a peaceful and joyful 2025.

The Trial For the Murder of Chava “Gimplowa” Feuer

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My Genealogy Research Makes a Difference To A Distant Cousin

23 Apr

When I started my genealogy research, I did my research and wrote my blogs just for my siblings and immediate family.  Over time, I included my cousins on my blog posts.  And then it just snowballed.  I realized that by posting them on Facebook, specifically on Tracing the Tribe group, I might connect with other more distant relatives.  And it happened.  I have had people help me with my research who are not related. I am in touch with distant cousins including Evan, who has been an immense help in making connections.  I have met some of these cousins in person.  And my understanding of my family increases with each new contact.

This blog is different.  In this instance, I discovered that the information I had from speaking with my grandmother years ago helped solve the family mystery of a women who is actually my third cousin, our grandmother’s were first cousins.

It started with an email from Evan. (He really does a great job keeping in touch with all the cousins) He connected me with a distant cousin named Sherry, the granddaughter of a woman named Esther who was born about 1897/1898.  He said she was part of my branch of the family and thought I could help.  I could.

A number of years ago, I wrote a blog about my grandmother entitled “Too Many Esthers” (see blog below) and “Updated Esther “(see blog below).  My Grandma Esther was one of 5 or 6 first cousins all named for their maternal grandmother, all named Esther, all born around the same time. All were given nicknames.  My grandmother was known as Curly Esther.

Sherry wrote back to Evan and me: (She has given me permission to write this blog, I have edited her emails for privacy and brevity.).  “Thank you for contacting me!  I had trouble with my grandmother, and who her parents truly were.  There were so many unanswered questions and there are no living family members in my close family that know anything more than I do.  I got pretty frustrated and sort of put it on the back burner.  I would be really interested in what you found out!”

I immediately responded: “It’s nice to be reconnected. I am the granddaughter of another Esther born in 1898.  I have been researching the family for years. In late 1970s I sat down with my Grandma and got the names of all of her mother’s siblings. The children of Elka/Esther Lew and Victor/Avigdor Wolf. Here are two of my blogs that will lead back to some of my research and introduce you to the family. The attached photo is our great great grandparents Esther and Victor Wolf(f).

Actually, I knew immediately who her grandmother had to be, which is why I sent her the blogs about the Esthers.  There was one cousin known as Meshugannah Esther.  Her mother Chamka came to the USA pregnant with three children.  Her husband had passed away before she came.  After their daughter, Esther, was born and weaned, she was given to a different sister, Sarah, who could not have children, to raise as her own.  To make things more confusing, Chamka was known as Anna in the USA, but her Hebrew name was Nechama.  Her family called her only Chamka/Chamky.

I must say I was truly happy to receive a reply from Sherry.  Her response filled me with joy to know that my research and pictures helped her.  Here is an edited version of her response.

“Wow!  I am so overwhelmed and thrilled with this connection.  I was getting so frustrated with trying to figure out my grandmother’s story and had no one to ask.  

I did hear that “grandma didn’t find out until the day she was engaged that her aunt was her mother and her mother was her aunt”.  So I knew that there was information that I was missing in order to fill in the blanks.  

“Meshuganah Esther moved in with my family when I was 10 years old. We lived next door to Aunt Lenore and her family.  Grandma was married 5 times!  She felt she needed to do that in order for her to care for her children. My grandmother passed in June of 1993.

“Ellen, you spoke of the cousins’ club meetings.  I remember them although I think I spent most of the time hiding behind my mother’s skirt…

“I actually gasped out loud when I opened the picture of Esther and Victor Wolf.  I have that picture and I had no idea who they were.

Thank you, dear cousins.  This is a gift.”

My initial response to this was just as excited. I was elated that I could help.

“I am so glad that you were able to make connections about the family through my blogs. I am so glad that you have that photo as well, and now know who it is.  It is amazing to have photos of great grandparents, but great great grandparents is really special. 

“Did you see the picture of Chamka and Lenore?  I am not sure which blog it is in.

I can understand a bit why she wasn’t told which sister was her mother.  But I am sure it was a big shock at the time. It was one of those open secrets that everyone knows but does not discuss.”

Since she did not have nor seen the photo of her great grandmother Chamka with her granddaughter Lenore, I sent her the photo and the information that was written on the back. “Tante Chamky and Lenore. Lenore was Meshuggana Esther’s daughter. Esther was raised by Tante Sarah, but was really Chamky’s daughter.”

I am currently looking for the photo so I can send her it for her family records.

Thanks to Tracing the Tribe, over the years, I have connected with a number of cousins.  But this connection honestly made me immensely happy.  

Too Many Esthers!
Updated Esthers
The Descendants of Esther (Lew) and Victor (Avigdor) Wolff/Wolf

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 Finding Answers About My Paternal Great Grandmother

17 Apr

In Ashkenazi Jewish custom we name our children for those beloved family members who have passed away. I was always told that I was named after three of my great grandmothers:

Chava was for my maternal grandfather’s mother, Chava, who was murdered in the Shoah.

Sara was for my maternal grandmother’s mother Sara/Sura, who died in the 1920s in Poland, and for my paternal grandfather’s mother as her name was Sarah as well.

I knew about my two maternal great grandmothers, because there were family stories about them.  But I knew nothing about my paternal great grandmother even though she  lived in the United States and is buried in New York.  I have recently realized there is more to the story about her and my name. 

I have been searching for information about my paternal great grandmother  for years.  The first real clue was when we first saw a photo of her about five years ago.  We did not even know we had one!  But my first cousin was searching through her family’s old photos and discovered one of her with my uncle.  (See blog below.)

More information followed when my distant cousin, Evan, who is a great researcher, found my grandparent’s marriage license.  They were married in January of 1923.  It contained my great grandmother’s maiden name which we never knew: Ritt.

Evan also found a puzzle piece for me when he found her death certificate, which was packed with information. The final link was when Beth David Cemetery in Elmont, New York, where she was buried on January 29, 1938, sent me a photo of her matzevah (tombstone).

I now can tell my family more about my mysterious great grandmother, who I now know is named Chaya Sarah, so close to my own name of Chava Sara, that I think I was bound to have this name.

My great grandmother did not have an easy life.  She gave birth to 11 children. Eight survived to adulthood.  She lost her oldest daughter, Celia, to swine flu when she was in her 20s.  Her oldest son, Samuel, was mentally ill and spent most of his adult life institutionalized.  She and her husband, Abraham, were divorced in the 1930s.  A very unusual occurrence for a Jewish woman, well for any woman, in that time period.

My Great Grandma Sarah died on January 28, 1938, from cancer of the panaceas at Jewish Hospital of Brooklyn, when she was 68 years old.  My grandfather, then the oldest living child signed the death certificate and made the arrangements.

I have three thoughts about this information.  First, the line through my grandfather is cancer free.  But I have since learned that the line through his youngest sibling, Jacob, was not as kind. We all thought Jacob had disappeared after he moved to England when my dad was a child. But in fact he died when he was in his fifties from cancer, as did his son Rufus.  The cancer gene followed them. (See blog below.)

Second, I think I know why I was named for her.  She died in late January.  Years later, I was born in late January.  It made sense.  Finally, I am currently close to her age when she died.  And that touches me that I found out now.

I know that she was born about 1870, in France.  That she and her parents lived in France surprised me. But her father and mother, Hirsh and Flora Ritt, were from Poland.  So I think they were in transit from Poland to the USA when she was born.  I have no proof, but it seems right.  I also know that her father died before 1892 because my grandfather was named for him. Zvi Hirsh.  I now know that she was about 22 when she had her third child, and her other children were toddlers when my grandfather was born.

She died when my Dad was just 9 years old.  He really did not have many memories of her or information.  But now we know her name and also the names of my great great grandparents: Chaya Sarah Ritt, the daughter of Hirsh Zvi and Flora Ritt.  We now can add their memories to our family.

I want to thank the personnel of Beth David Cemetery. I now have photos of the graves of four of my great grandparents.

The Gift of a Photo Becomes a Gift of Genealogy
Did Great Aunt Celia Die From the Spanish Flu?
Update About My Grandfather’s Mysterious Brother Jacob

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An Unexpected ‘Grave’ Mystery

3 Mar

With the uptick in anti-Semitic events, with masked college students attacking Jewish students at colleges, with a Hamas murderous pogrom in Israel, I am still amazed when events from the Shoah are revealed in present day. I feel like I am in a time warp.  Reading about the events at the UC Berkley campus and at the same time reading an email from a distant cousin telling me about a mass grave found in Poland that contains members of my extended family.  Don’t college students learn anything about history? 

My newest journey started with a email from a distant cousin concerning the Holocaust and my family. I get unusual requests now and then because I have been the family historian, trying to document all the family who were murdered during the Shoah.  A task I realize is virtually impossible with all large number of people in my family who were murdered. 

My distant cousin received a letter through JewishGen’s Family Finder.  Her great aunt, who I keep in contact with, suggested she send the email to me.

Her email contained a series of emails between two people in Europe that forced my brain back in time to all that my maternal family had suffered so many decades ago during the horrors of the Shoah.

The first was from a retired baker in London who had been contacted by a researcher who wanted information about a family named Brenner who were murdered by the Nazis and whose bones were recently found in a mass grave and in accordance with state law were re-interred in a Catholic cemetery.

His mother was born Kornbluth and her father was born in Mielec, Poland, where many Kornbluth’s were living when the Nazis invaded. They believed the bones were those of a woman whose maiden name was Kornbluth; her married name was Brenner.

My family was from Mielec and its surrounding small towns.  I have written about the destruction of the Jewish population in this city and its surrounding in other blogs.  Brenner is one of the names in my family. Which made me think that I could have a connection with this grave.  Although the last name Kornbluth is familiar, I wasn’t entirely sure of the connection to us.  But I kept reading.

The baker then include emails from a representative of the Zapomniane Foundation that deals with locating and commemorating the graves of the Holocaust victims. He found the baker through JewishGen Family Finder.



“I represent the Zapomniane Foundation that deals with locating and commemorating the graves of the Holocaust victims (zapomniane.org or our profile on FB). I’m currently researching the case of the Brenner family murdered in 1942 and buried in a mass grave near Mielec. According to what I have learned so far among the victims probably were Lazar and Sara Brenner. Her maiden name was Kornbluth. Before the war they lived in a village called Hyki (today it is called Sarnow). They were killed together with their children and Sara’s brother. Would you happen to know this story and/or have any information about Sara Brenner nee Kornbluth?

Sincerely
A N”

Then came more information from the Zapomniane Foundation:
“ Here is the story of how I have learned about the Brenner family:

Two years ago I went to Czajkowa (a village near Mielec) to see the location of a place where the Brenner family (seven people) was killed and buried in August 1942.My guide was Robert P. who told me the story of his aunt Anna P. Anna’s real name was Ryfka Amsterdam she was Jewish, converted to catholicism before the war and married Andrzej P, Robert’s relative and became Anna P. The Brenner family were the relatives of Anna/Ryfka: perhaps Ryfka’s sister with husband and children and possibly Ryfka’s (and Sara’s?)brother. There are no names, only the last name of the father of the family i.e Brenner.”

Well now we are getting closer to my family, since Amsterdam is my grandfather’s last name. I know that any one named Amsterdam is definitely somehow related to me. This is the first time ever that I have heard about a family member who converted to Catholicism before the war.  But to be honest, if someone left the family to marry outside of the faith, it was probably not discussed. 

What the email says next really touched my soul! I could not image how this young man would have felt when he dug up the grave.


“The gravesite of the Brenner family was partially destroyed in 2003 by an excavator. Obviously the grave itself has never been marked, it was just a hole in the ground.  As a result the bones from this grave were taken by the police and buried in an anonymous grave in Tuszów Narodowy catholic cemetery. Ironically the guy who worked with the excavator and dug out the bones was the grandson of Ryfka Amsterdam/Anna P. He was interrogated by the police in 2003. Anna/Ryfka had three children, her son born in 1950 is still living in Mielec.”

Next shock!  A non-Jewish descendant of Rikva/Anna born just a few years before me, still lives in Mielec.  They stayed there even after all her Jewish relatives were murdered. I cannot understand that reality. Could you comfortably walk the streets of a city, see the houses of your relatives, know that they were murdered and that others were living in their homes?  Would you ever feel safe?

Not only that, it was Anna’s grandson who accidentally dug up the grave of people who might be his great aunt and uncle and their children, his cousins.  I could almost see this as a movie.  Could this truly be happening?  But yes, it was and it is.  So now he has not only dug up a grave 80 years after they were buried, but it is his family buried there.  I really have no words.

The researcher  continued:

“I found the information about Chaim Brenner via the Holocaust Survivor Program. Thus I knew the names of his parents and their fate that fits the story I know from the Polish archives:

Czajkowa
Aug. 15, 1942
Captured and shot by German police, beginning w/ oldest family member; gendarme Franiszek Wojtas identified as likely shooter; family did not report to ghetto and remained in hiding for approx. 3 mos.; hid in forest and empty home of Kamuda; group consisted of two families; relatives of prewar converts to Christianity, Amsterdams, who survived war in same village

So my big questions are who was buried in the grave destroyed by the excavator 20 years ago and how can we commemorate them.”


The retired baker then tells my cousin that he contacted her because she has a Nathan Amsterdam in her family tree who told Yad VaShem about the death of a niece with the maiden name of Kornbluth. Could she help? Which is how I became part of this Nazi murder/grave mystery.

I knew I really could not help, but I felt like I had to say something I emailed both the baker and the Zapomniane Foundation.  Here is a shortened version of the email I sent.

Your question about the grave and the Brenner/Amsterdam/Kornbluth murders, was sent to me as I have become an Amsterdam family researcher for a while now.

She knew I would be interested in this question.

Unfortunately, I do not know who was buried in the unmarked grave.  Not much help I know. But I can tell you that there are many named Nathan Amsterdam in our family.  My cousin’s great grandfather and my grandfather were both were named Nathan Amsterdam and they were cousins who were born in Austria/Poland in the Mielec area.

The family in Meilec and the surrounding area had four main family names: Amsterdam, Feuer, Brenner and Hollander. The family is Cohanim. Hence the names Feuer/ FIre and Brenner/ Burner. The other names came because the family did go from Spain to Portugal to Amsterdam and then a group moved to Austria/Poland. There was much intermarriage between people with these four surnames.

Almost the entire family who remained in Europe died during the Shoah. Mielec was one of the first areas that the Nazis made judenfrei. Only a few cousins survived. They are all gone now.  One moved to the USA, two went to England and two moved to Israel.

Here is the info on the family that survived and moved to England. Perhaps you might find a descendant. I met them in the early 1960s when they came to the USA to visit the family here.

Zacheriah and Elka had seven children.  Only three survived the Shoah.  Gimple Feuer married and moved to England.  They had four children.  (I then named the four children who they might be able to reach. I am not publishing their names here as they might still be alive.)

Lazar Feuer also lived in England after the war, I never met him.  He had three children: (I named these three as well.)

I am sorry I cannot tell you or the researcher there who exactly is buried in that grave.  But I can tell you that several hundred members of the family were murdered in the Shoah in many different places and methods.  But as the names were Brenner and Amsterdam, I can tell you that they are my distant relatives and that the men were probably Cohanim.”

Because I think finding a way to commemoriate these people is important, I am posting this on Tracing the Tribe Facebook page to see if anyone else has a connection that could help.

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Baby Jacob is Found

12 Jan

I recently expanded my spiritual care volunteering to include women who have lost a pregnancy or an infant.  (See blog below.). While I was taking seminars and webinars to learn about my new role, I was reminded that my grandmother always mentioned her brother Jacob, who died when he was a child, whenever she listed off her siblings.  She always told me that she was one of five; four living and one who died.

I always assumed that Jacob, who had been named for his paternal grandfather, Yankel, my great great grandfather, had died as a young boy.  Old enough for my grandmother to remember him.   I did not know how Jacob died or how old he was when he died.  My grandmother spoke about him as if she knew him.  So I figure he was a child of 5 or 6 when he passed. 

Now I know she did not know him at all. That the memory she had of him came from her mother, my great grandmother. I can imagine that whenever someone asked her how many children she had, she always remembered and counted Jacob. How could a mother forget her own child? I know now that you never forget the pain of losing a loved one, especially a child. What you can do is to learn to live with it and move forward while remembering.

Jacob has been on my mind lately.  So recently, when my distant cousin, Evan W., who is the best genealogy researcher I know started texting documents one day, I realized I could find out what happened.  Or rather Evan could.  I asked if he was again at the Mormon Center doing research.  He was.  That was fortuitous for me.  I told him about Jacob.  Honestly, within minutes I had my answer. I was stunned.  And when I looked at the dates on the death certificate, I realized I was looking at documents registered almost exactly 126 years ago.

(Once again thank you to Evan and to Tracing The Tribe group that has helped me so much over the years with my mysteries.)

Evan found first that In the 1900 census the family can be found living in the same apartment building as one of my great grandmother’s sister and her family.  Louis and Ray have two living children, two girls one born in 1895 and one in 1898 (my grandmother.). But it also indicated that she had three children, only two living. 

Jacob died when he was just over one year old on January 2, 1898, at 4 pm in the afternoon, with the document registered on January 3 (or 8). He was acutely ill for four days, with the doctor making house calls from December 30 until Jacob died on the second.

I cannot imagine starting a new year with the death of a son.   She must have been devasted.  I can imagine that her sister, who lived in the same building, was there for her.  Jacob’s older sister, my great aunt, was only about 18 months old. My grandmother was not even born when he died.  In fact, she was born 11 months later in November 0f 1898.  So I know for sure she was not remembering him at all.  She was repeating what her mother always said. “I have five children, four living and one, Jacob, who passed away.”

The death certificate states that the cause of death was Simple Meningitis, but there was a contributing factor. Poor Jacob had hydrocephalus.  This is a condition of extra cerebrospinal fluid on the brain.  Now a baby who has this gets a shunt put in that releases the fluid, so that the child survives.

In fact on KidsHealth website it says: “Children often have a full life span if hydrocephalus is caught early and treated. Infants who undergo surgical treatment to reduce the excess fluid in the brain and survive to age 1 will not have a shortened life expectancy due to hydrocephalus.”

But for Jacob this was not an option.  His short life was probably difficult for all as the fluids put pressure on his skull and brain.  My husband, who is a pediatrician, said that meningitis is common with those who have hydrocephalus.  I can imagine the toll his condition had on the family.  I assume that his parents knew that he would not live a long life.  Jacob was unfortunately doomed to die. 

My great grandmother had three children after Jacob died, my grandmother and two more sons.  These four children really grew up not knowing Jacob at all.  But their mother kept his memory alive.   Jacob is buried at Washington Cemetery in New York, where my great grandparents are buried.  I am hoping to find his grave. Although Evan told me that often babies had no stones.

My great grandparents married on January 28, 1894.  I am writing this blog in memory of their 130th wedding anniversary, and the loss they had right before their fourth anniversary in 1898, when Jacob died. By writing this memory I hope that I am continuing my great grandmother’s wish to keep his memory alive.

Expanding my Spiritual Care Volunteer Work

https://kidshealth.org/

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Discovering My Amsterdam Heritage in Amsterdam

26 Aug

Amsterdam has been the destination my heart has yearned to visit. My Grandfather’s last name was Amsterdam. We know his family moved from Spain to Portugal to Amsterdam to Poland where his family got the last name Amsterdam while others became Hollanders. So I always wanted to see where my family found safety. (I have written about this in the blog below.)

My first connection came unexpectedly. We first toured the Anne Frank House, which was of course heartbreaking to know how close they came to survival. But while there I noticed something I never realized. Anne’s mother’s maiden name was Hollander. I had an Oy vey moment. I knew that Anne Frank and my mom were both born in 1929. But now there was the connection in name. Could we possibly have been distantly related? My horror was multiplied. I have already found so many of my family murdered in the Shoah. (See blog below.)

Then while taking a canal tour we rode past the new town hall and ballet. We were told that the old Jewish Section of town was razed to build this and there was a community outcry. But it still happened. As we rode past I saw a black monolith with Hebrew inscribed in gold. I knew I would be back.

The next morning my husband and I took the 14 tram to the Portuguese Synagogue. We walked around the area. It was not open yet, so we could not go inside. But I assume this is where my family worshipped after their arrival in Holland. I saw the outside of the Jewish Museum. I need to go back to visit these sites in he future.

In front of the Synagogue was a statute with the date February 25, 1941. On this date was major strike started against the Nazis because of the roundup of Jewish citizens. The Germans were harsh in stopping the strike. Many would died and be deported. It was my first reminder of the Shoah.

But my focus was on finding the monolith. My husband and I started walking the almost mile to the Town Hall. Along the way I saw my first stolperstein, golden stones, in front of a home listing the Holocaust victims. I knew they existed but had never seen them before outside of photos. It was another ache to the heart.

We continued our walk until we found the monolith on the edge of the land overlooking the canal. The black monolith commemorating those who died. Again I thought of all who found safety there in the 1600s but could not find it in the 1900s. I have to be honest, it reminded me of the giant black monolith of “2001 A Space Odyssey ” indicating great change. The change here was the decimation of the Jewish community.

A short walk away from the monolith was a statute in honor of Spinoza, who was born in Amsterdam at this location. I was surprised to find it here, although I know his history. There was a plaque nearby that discussed Spinoza’s impact on ethics and philosophy.

My desire to discover my Amsterdam heritage in Amsterdam was not totally quenched. I will need to go back to the Synagogue and museum another time. But I still feel closer to my family history.

https://zicharonot.com/2014/06/09/as-spain-welcomes-back-jews-expelled-in-the-1400s-i-share-my-spanish-roots/

https://zicharonot.com/2018/06/07/the-sorrow-of-shalom-hollander/

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Some of My Paternal Family Mysteries Solved, But Not All

18 Jul

For more years than I care to share, I have been searching for answers to my paternal grandfather’s many family mysteries.  My grandfather did not want to talk about his family.  My grandmother, his wife, was the one who told me the little bit she knew, with a caveat,
“when you marry, check out the family, because you marry them as well.”   ( See links to blogs below.)

Before I go into details, I have to thank Evan Wolfson, my, I think, fourth cousin on my father’s side, for his help!! He had sent me a copy of my great grandparent’s marriage license and said he was doing research at the Family History Center run by the Mormon Church.  On a serious whim, I asked if he could help with my mystery. Over two days he sent me record after record.  I am forever grateful for his help in working on my mystery!!!

What we all thought we knew and what I know now:

Grandpa Harry was born in 1888 or 1889.  No he was not.  He was actually born in April 20, 1890, in New York.   I know this from his registration papers for the military in 1914, where he claimed he was, (and I wrote from what he wrote) “the mostly supporter of my father and mother.”  He was an operator and cutter in his own business, as a pants maker, at 90 Attorney Street in New York.

By the way, his brother Jacob also filled out his registration card for military service then.  But since he was employed as a stenographer at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, he did not go, as he was working in ‘home support.’

Grandpa was the oldest of six children.   No he was not.  He had an older brother, Samuel, who was born in Russia and came to the USA as an toddler.   He also had an older sister, Celia, who was born in the USA, but died when she was about 24 years old of pneumonia and pulmonary edema.  She worked making shirt waists and was single when she died.  She is buried in Montiefiore Cemetery in New York.  We will have to find her one day.

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Standing: Great Uncle Lenny, Great Aunt Hady, Grandpa Harry, Grandma Esther. Seating are my great grandmother and great aunt from my Grandma’s side.

He was the oldest of the other children.  Grandpa Harry, born 1890; Jacob, born about two years later; Bertha, five years younger, and never married; Edith (Yetta), born 1898 and also never married; Hatti/Hady who was born in 1901 and married to Lenny Greenberg; and finally, Minnie/Miriam/Muriel, who married and had two children.

The other item I now know is that his mother gave birth to 12 children, of which 8 survived.  There is a child who was born in 1904 named Rosie.  But no other listings of her.

The story we all heard was that when Grandpa was in his early teens, his father abandoned the family and went to Seattle. And Grandpa then became the provider for the family, and also traveled to Seattle to find his father.   Probably, maybe for a while, then went back?  Not quite sure.  Here’s what I know.  Grandpa did go to Seattle, we have the photos and the story.  But it was not that early.   Did he find his father?  I am not sure.  Did his father come back for a bit?  Well he was in New York at least till 1915, so who knows what was happening. Perhaps he became ill as he was no longer working then.

I did go to Seattle and did research at the library.  I did find a Abraham Rosenberg there in 1906 who was a tailor, but I could not find the same man again.   I also now know that my great grandparents were still having children in 1901 and 1903.  Hattie was born in 1901 and Minnie/Muriel was born about 1903. And the child born in 1904.

I also know that when my grandfather registered for the military in 1914, he listed the sole support of his mother and father and siblings as the reason he could not serve.  I had heard for years that my grandfather supported all his siblings, many of whom went to college on his dime, while he was just a tailor.

I know they were living together at least until 1915 because they are on a census together.  But by 1920 Sarah is the head of her household, and Abraham is gone.   I wonder if he had gone to Seattle in 1905 after his last child was born, but then came back after my grandfather found him.  Grandpa would have been 16 in 1906. So that is possible.  Then after they got divorced, he left again?  I am only thinking this, I have no proof.  The only fact I know for sure, is that my father always said the only time he met his grandfather we when he showed up the day of his bar mitzvah in September 1941.   He had vague memories of his grandmother. But then she died when he was 8.

The only photo I have of my great grandma. Thanks to my cousin.

My other mystery was knowing nothing about my great grandmother Sarah.  Well I now know her maiden name was Ritt/Writt.  I first saw this last name on my grandparents’ marriage license.  They married on February 25, 1922. Grandpa was 30 and Grandma was 23.

But her certificate of death gave much more.  Her parents were Hirsh Ritt, who was born in Poland and Flora, also from Poland.  Hirsh makes sense as that is my grandfather’s Yiddish name.   Flora is unusual. It also states that Sarah was born in France, which was the first time for that announcement.  In other places she is listed as was born in Russia or Germany.  Still the woman of mystery.

When she died at age 68, on January 28, 1936, she was divorced and suffered from carcinoma of the pancreas.  She was only sick for one month and seven days and died at the Jewish Hospital of Brooklyn on 555 Prospect Place.

My Grandfather was the one who provided the information about his mother.

Thus some mysteries are solved.  And others now stand out.  What do the divorce papers say?  I still cannot find those.  What happened to Samuel?  And Muriel?    And where and when did Abraham go to Seattle or did him?  And where did he live after he and Sarah got divorced?  I had heard he was with another woman?

I knew Hady/Hattie and her husband, Lenny (see blog below.). Edith and Bertha, I never met, but I knew of them as the two maiden sisters. They went to college, but never married. However they gave my uncle the middle name, Prim; and my aunt the middle name, Gwendolyn.

As for Jacob. That will be another blog. Previously, I had found some information about him, and my cousin Evan was able to find a bit more during his research.

Once again, thank you Evan for helping me with my mystery! And a thanksto Tracing the Tribe Group, where I first encountered my cousin.

 

 

 

https://zicharonot.com/2015/06/14/the-sad-scandal-that-forever-scarred-my-grandpa-harry/

 

https://zicharonot.com/2017/10/25/the-missing-link-in-my-family-history-or-my-biggest-genealogy-block/

 

https://zicharonot.com/2018/11/16/epiphany-excitement-discovery-disappointment-hope/

 

 

https://zicharonot.com/2015/02/18/the-littlest-gambler-learning-about-horse-races-in-the-catskills/

 

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Identifying A Photo is Hanukkah Miracle

6 Dec

My grandmother’s photo album continues to amaze me.  As I revisit it every few months,  I always find photos that call out to me.  This time, the portrait of a middle age man caught my attention.

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I believe this is my great grandfather.

He looked so familiar, but at the same time, not so much.  Then I looked more closely at his ears.  Do not laugh!  But his ears were very telling.  And I thought, “Wait, I think that is my great grandfather.”  I pulled out my great grandfather’s passport. And compared the photos.  And yes, in my mind the ears are the same.  As are the eyes.  He is much older in the passport photo.  And much had happened in his life.  But it is definitely Avraham Shlomo.

Front Great grandpa USA Visa

My Great Grandfather’s Green card that save him.

My grandmother’s album is filled with photos from the 1920s and 1930s.  I imagine that this is the photo she brought with her to the United States when she left Poland in the early 1920s.  Her mother had already died.  Her younger siblings, she left behind.

But she kept a photo album of the people she met in the USA And with the many photos sent to her from Europe.  Some I have identified.  But many more remain a mystery, because they have no identification,  that I still try to discover.  The hardest ones to see are the children.  Grandma put in several photos of large groups of children, I would assume from a school photo.  I wonder how many survived?

Each time, I figure out who someone is, I feel as if a great miracle has occurred.  So today I had  my Hanukkah miracle for the year, discovering this photo of my great grandfather in his middle age.  A younger vision of him before so much sorrow occurred in Poland and Europe.

Here is the blog I wrote when I first discovered this album.  But I have written many others since then.  Each discovering just an amazing find.  You can see more of the photos in the Category: Grandma’s Photo Album.

https://zicharonot.com/2014/08/19/old-photographs-bring-memories-to-life/

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