The Wednesday Wedding of Dora Hurwitch and Aaron Hartman

Wednesday, June 20, 1888 was the wedding day of my paternal great aunt's older sister, Dora Hurwitch (1870-1943). She was born in Poland, the daughter of a peddler who brought his family to England where he later became a teacher. The groom was Aaron H. Hartman (1871-1942), a jeweler who was the son of a draper born in Poland. 

Of Dora and Aaron's children, three died before age 20. Their daughter Emily Hartman volunteered as a nurse during World War I and sadly died at age 22 when the flu epidemic swept through the Bermondsey military hospital where she was working in October, 1918. Her tombstone includes the poignant inscription "Thou o lord has done as it pleased thee."

Married by the groom's neighbor

In the 1881 England Census, Aaron Hartman and his family were listed in Sheffield just a few lines below "A. Alexander, Jewish Minister." And looking at the transcribed marriage record for Dora and Aaron from the West Bar Green Synagogue, the minister is "A. Alexander." Clearly the same man, who must have been well-known to the groom's family.

The West Bar Green Synagogue in Sheffield had a number of names and locations during its time. According to this brief history, "Rev. A. Alexander" was a "reader" during the early 1900s. After relocating to a more permanent place in 1914, the synagogue was unfortunately destroyed by German bombing during the Sheffield Blitz of December, 1940.

Aaron and Dora in retirement

In the 1939 Register, Aaron was shown as retired and his wife Dora's occupation was "unpaid domestic duties." Both Aaron and his bride, Dora, survived the blitz. In retirement, they were living in Lymington, Hampshire, England, a ferry ride away from the Isle of Wight. Lymington is more than 200 miles south of the couple's original home in Sheffield. 

Aaron died in December, 1942. Dora died in October of 1943. Both were buried in Ecclesfield Jewish Cemetery in Sheffield, where their children were buried. Remembering these folks from my father's family tree on the 137th anniversary of their wedding in Sheffield, England.

Daily Life, 1920-1940 in the United States

 
Many of the recent ancestors of particular interest in my family tree and hubby's family tree were born or came of age in the United States during the period between the two World Wars. All four of my immigrant grandparents settled in New York City during these three decades, and my parents were very young but growing up. My husband's mother and father were in high school and then he went on to college during the Roaring Twenties.

No wonder I was drawn to this concise and readable book by David E. Kyvig, Daily Life in the United States, 1920-1940. Only 300 pages plus notes and bibliography and a detailed index. See table of contents below.

Unlike conventional history books, Kyvig's book looks at local, national, and international events, plus politics and law, social movements, religion, economic developments, technology, transportation, entertainment and more--all through the lens of how they affected people living in the States, both in rural communities and in busy metropolitan areas. Solid historical and social context, covering well-known events with the focus on the consequences for everyday people going about their daily lives.

Kyvig examines trends revealed by Census data and by numerous studies such as the 1929/1937 books about Muncie, Indiana to understand how American daily life changed in communities from coast to coast after the "Great War," during the Great Depression, and as the economy finally began to turn around. The author examines influences like: Prohibition. Radio. Movies. Car culture. These and other changes gave me more insights into how my ancestors probably lived during the period.

If your local library doesn't have this informative book, you can find it on the Internet Archive here. Dip in and dig a little deeper into how your US ancestors might lived at that time! 

PS There are similar books that explore daily life during other periods in history. I'm checking them out to better understand my older ancestors too.

Remembering Fathers from Hubby's Family Tree

On Father's Day, I want to honor three fathers from my husband's family tree.

• My late father-in-law, Edgar James Wood (1903-1986) was an insurance agent by day, a professional musician by night, and an avid traveler to Europe. At top, a photo of Ed and his wife Marian, on a trans-Atlantic ocean liner headed for Italy. 
• Hubby's paternal grandfather was James Edgar Wood (1871-1939), a carpenter and contractor who built dozens of homes in and around Cleveland, Ohio. James and his wife Mary had four sons--my father-in-law Ed was the oldest.
• Hubby's paternal great-grandfather was Thomas Haskell Wood (1809-1890), a carpenter and carriage maker who brought up most of his sons to be carpenters and contractors. Thomas's own grandfather Elihu Wood Sr. served in a militia for 6 days during the American Revolution, a story that got lost in the family for too many generations.

May the stories of these fathers be remembered long into the future!

Redoing Research--and Finding Elizabeth Light's Obit

Every year, I rotate newspaper subscriptions so I can search different databases for ancestor birth, marriage, and death notices, as well as any social items or even legal woes.

Then I redo my research by either following specific branches of the family tree or investigating ancestors as their birth/marriage/death anniversaries pop up. Rotating newspaper sites paid off this week when I finally discovered where and when two ancestors in my husband's family died--raising a new genealogy question as well.

Elizabeth E. Bentley Light

The Bentley branch has been a special focus of my research into my husband's family tree. My husband's 3d great-grandpa William Tyler Bentley uprooted his family from upstate New York about 1835 and settled in Elkhart County, Indiana with his wife Olivia and their seven children. Alas, Olivia died just a few years later. William left for California a decade later, during Gold Rush fever, and most of his children soon also left Indiana to farm or ranch in California.

William's daughter Elizabeth married widower Emanuel Light on June 13, 1847 and they began their family with two sons, William and Frank. William only appears on the 1850 US Census, so I suspect he died young, before Elizabeth and Emanuel moved to central California late in 1853, bringing along his two children from his first marriage. In California, the couple had two more children, even as one of Emanuel's older sons died.

Obits for Elizabeth and Emanuel

Using my subscription to newspapers.com, I searched for Elizabeth and Emanuel's death notices. I had a vague idea of when they died (before 1900) but nothing specific. Within minutes, I had obituaries for both of these ancestors. Emanuel died first, in January of 1896, in Winters, California, a rural section of the state west of Sacramento. His obit noted that Emanuel had made his home on "the eastern slope of a range of mountains" since 1890. His survivors were listed as his wife Elizabeth, three sons, and one daughter. The survivor count must include his son from the first marriage plus two sons and a daughter with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's obit was published in May of 1897, saying she died only 16 months after her late husband Emanuel. Again, her surviving children are noted as three sons and one daughter, very likely her husband's son from his first marriage plus two sons and a daughter with Emanuel.

On the 178th anniversary of Elizabeth and Emanuel's wedding, I'm glad to be able to add their death dates to my family trees, all because I redid my research in a newspaper database.

Married 80 Years Ago: Theodore and Yetta

On June 10, 1945, my cousin Theodore Roth (1907-1967) married Yetta Mansfield (1912-2004).

Theodore was a son of Bertha Weiss Roth and merchant Bela Roth, whose first wife was my great-grandmother's sister. Yetta was a daughter of watchmaker Isadore Manfield and his wife Sadie Friedman Manfield. On their marriage documents, the groom said he was born in Hungary, the bride said she was born in Austria. But in other documents, including the Census, she and her parents and one brother were shown as being born in Poland. Huh?

NYC voter register lists naturalization

When Yetta registered to vote in 1942, along with her sister Sylvia, they were required to list their place of birth and indicate naturalization. Yetta told officials that her birthplace was Poland, while Sylvia said her birthplace was Canada, as shown above. Both said they were naturalized under their father Isadore's documentation in 1931.

Next step: Finding Isadore's naturalization. Actually, it wasn't very difficult. 

NY Naturalizations: Bronx and Queens

I went to the free NY Naturalizations website, which is maintained by the Bronx and Queens County Clerks, and plugged in the name of Isadore Manfield. There were 2 results for this name. The first was a painter who arrived earlier in the 20th century and had no family. Not the man I was searching for. 

The second listing was a watchmaker born in Poland, married with four children...including Yetta, her sister Sylvia, and two other children. Definitely my guy, and the papers were a gold mine of details! This Isadore Manfield was naturalized in 1931, renouncing any citizenship from Poland and Austria. 

Thanks to all these documents, I have lots more information about Yetta's background. She and Theodore had one son, Edward. Thinking of them on the 80th anniversary of the Big Apple wedding of Theodore and Yetta.

Shadow Box for Pearls and More

This is my year for framing key family history artifacts. I want to protect them and make them look attractive for passing down to the next generation. Already in the hands of professional framers: a shadow box order for my father's World War II memorabilia. Next project: a shadow box for some of my Mom's items.

A child-size string of pearls and tiny pearl bracelet will be in the next shadow box, along with a photo of Mom (Daisy) and her twin sister (Dorothy), wearing these pearls (shown in photo below). 

When I mentioned the shadow box idea to my Sis, she suggested adding the metallic ID bracelet shown at top. It was hand-inscribed by a London jeweler who wrote "Daisy" on the front and "Dorothy, London 1943" on the back. 

At the time, Dorothy was serving as a U.S. WAC during World War II and was stationed in London for additional training after deployment. Her twin sister Daisy (my Mom) was home in the Bronx, New York, working as a legal secretary and helping her parents with their neighborhood dairy store. This was the first time in their 23 years together that they had been separated for more than a few days.

The shadow box will be made of black wood and feature a brass name plate on the frame, with Daisy and Dorothy's names and dates. On the back of the frame, I'll put bite-sized bios of the twins, explaining the significance of the jewelry items.

Of course I'll post a photo once the shadow box is completed! 

Planning a Shadow Box for Dad's WWII Memorabilia

Above, a snapshot of Dad, Harold D. Burk (1909-1978) during a brief leave to visit family before shipping overseas to serve in World War II.

I'm having his military memorabilia placed into a professionally-crafted, high-quality shadow box frame to keep everything safe and together. The frame store will incorporate special "museum glass" and special archival materials to prevent fading and deterioration. 

Not only is the framer arranging Dad's dog tags, unit insignia, shoulder patch, and Army lapel pins inside the box, she is including the black-and-white photo of Dad in his uniform, shown at top. 

A pro photographer recommended I have a high-resolution scan of the snapshot printed on special paper designed to last for decades. I used Mpix, which offers archival-quality prints. Other companies also offer similar services, so shop around if you want to do this, and also consider photo restoration if needed. 

The goal in creating a custom shadow box is to protect these 80-year-old items and enclose them within a frame and with a story, so they are preserved and passed down to future generations as part of our precious family history. For me, the investment in quality framing craftsmanship will give these items a much longer life and make them look more important than just leaving them in an archival box.

There are so many ways to store and share family artifacts (see my book, Planning a Future for Your Family's Past) but this project is designed especially to showcase artifacts from my Dad's service in WWII, before he met and married my Mom.

I'll share more about this project once I get it back from the framer. And yes, after I join my ancestors sometime in the far future, I have multiple heirs for this new heirloom. 

Were My Family's Baby Names Among the Most Popular of Their Time?

All four of my grandparents were immigrants and their children were all (with one exception) born in New York City during the period 1900-1919.

These first-generation children were: Mildred, Harold, Miriam, Sidney, Fred, Dorothy, and Daisy. I wondered how many of those names were particularly popular at the time.

So I wandered over to the Social Security website section devoted to "popular baby names of the period by decade" and selected the decade of 1910. 

Sure enough, Dorothy was one of the most popular baby names of the 1910s, as was Mildred. By the way, both names were also in the top ten baby names of the first decade of the twentieth century. 

Not one of these given names from my family appears in the top 10 baby names of the past century.

Happy I Hired a Pro Genealogist

 

Earlier this year, I found an official Canadian publication from 1932 showing the naturalization certificate number for Italian-born Paolo Pietroniro (1897-1976), an in-law sibling in my husband's family tree. Actually, at the time, he became a British citizen through the Canadian naturalization process.

Researching what it would take to obtain Paolo's Canadian naturalization documents through the Access to Information and Privacy Act (ATIP), I learned three very important facts: (1) with the certificate number and date, I could skip a lengthy and expensive search process; (2) only a Canadian resident can request naturalization documents; (3) the cost for a naturalization file is just $5 through ATIP. I was pretty sure I had everything needed to make this request, except for my being ineligible to ask for the documents, since I don't live in Canada.

Finding someone in Canada to make the request

Initially, I approached three genealogy folks I know, all with ties to Canada, and asked for their informal assistance in obtaining the naturalization file. But of course these folks have busy lives and they weren't at all familiar with the ATIP process. I hadn't really thought this through. However, one of these nice folks suggested I contact a professional genealogist in Canada. An excellent idea!

So I asked for a video conference consult with Canadian pro genealogist Ellen Thompson-Jennings (well known as the Family History Hound from Hound on the Hunt). I read her blog regularly and I thought she would be a great help. Before we spoke, I had my documents ready to share and made notes about what, specifically, I hoped she could obtain for me.

Expertise and experience for the win

Ellen, who lives in Western Canada, was an absolute pleasure to work with. She listened carefully during our consult, looked at my paperwork, and confirmed that I had the right info to request a naturalization file. Best of all, she told me she had successfully made similar ATIP requests in the past. Whew. We agreed on a reasonable fee, including the $5 official fee, and she prepared the request for submission to Canadian authorities. Now all we had to do was wait.

Five weeks later, Ellen sent me an email with a pdf attachment: The 17 page electronic file for Paolo Pietroniro's naturalization! I learned he spoke, read, and wrote English as well as Italian. There was also lots of info about his trips from Montreal to Italy to visit family (exact dates of departure/arrival), and much more. I am delighted to have this file and am digging deeper into all the details in it.

As a bonus, Paolo's wife's naturalization documents were in the same electronic file. At top is one page from the naturalization of Filomena Damario Pietroniro (1895-1966). She became a Canadian citizen in 1939, having lived in the country for a decade. I was surprised to see that she made a mark instead of a signature. The page has a notation about "ignoring the art of writing," which I interpreted as meaning Filomena was not able to sign her name. In contrast, the documents revealed that Paolo was fluent in English, and he had a flowing signature, probably because he was an entrepreneur running a masonry business in Montreal.

I'm very happy a hired a pro genealogist for this project! Ellen's knowledge and experience were just what I needed to get the job done.

Memorial Day 2025: Awaiting Files from Veterans Affairs

On this Memorial Day weekend, I'm awaiting the arrival of 12 files about ancestors who served in the US military during the 20th century. I requested these records from the US Department of Veterans Affairs via the very efficient one-stop birls.org website created by Reclaim the Records. My earlier blog post explains more about the website and how easy it is to search for ancestors in this database.

From December, 2024 through May, 2025, I've submitted BIRLS requests for a total of 13 ancestors in my family tree and in my hubby's family tree. I'm particularly eager to see the files for my father, Harold D. Burk, who in later years was treated in VA hospitals for medical conditions. I expect that file to have many pages of information about his health and about his service.

All the ancestor names I searched were in the BIRLS database, but I haven't yet heard from Veterans Affairs about whether all have actual files. In fact, the VA already informed me that one distant ancestor has no records on file. Because that ancestor is quite far out on the family tree, I don't plan to appeal to make the agency look further, but it is an option.

Today I'm remembering the service of these and many other veterans from all branches of my family who served their country in years past. This is my #52Ancestors post for the challenge theme of military.

Adelaide Slatter Was Baptized by A "Squire in the Slums"

Today is the 157th anniversary of the birth of my husband's great aunt Adelaide Mary Ann Slatter (1868-1947). Ada, as she was known in the family, was the fifth of six children of Mary Shehen Slatter and John Slatter. All the children were born into increasingly desperate poverty as John struggled to get and keep enough work to support the growing family.

Looking carefully at Ada's baptismal record from St. Mark's of Whitechapel, I read the name of Brooke Lambert as the person who baptized Ada.

It took three nanoseconds of searching to learn that Brooke Lambert was born into privilege, became curate and vicar of St. Mark's after receiving degrees at Oxford University, and led antipoverty efforts for many years. He made his own observations and wrote and sermonized about poverty before Charles Booth undertook his statistical analyses of the poor of London.

A 2007 book by Nigel Scotland, Squires in the Slums, examined the settlements and programs of another social reformer of the time, Samuel Barnett, who along with Lambert was considered a "squire in the slums."

Ada eventually escaped her impoverished childhood: she worked hard as a servant, saved her money, and in 1895, she sailed to America to begin again in Ohio, where her father had settled a few years earlier. Ada married James Sills Baker and they had two daughters, Dorothy and Edith. 

Remembering Ada and celebrating her resilience on the anniversary of her Whitechapel birth.

Crossing the Northern Border at Age One

This week is the 114th anniversary of the birth of my paternal aunt Miriam Burk (1911-1987). 

In this New York City photo, Miriam is the babe in the arms of her mother, Henrietta Mahler Burk. To the left, in the fashionable hair bow, is older sister Mildred Burk. The tyke at lower right is my own Dad, Harold Burk.

Not shown in the photo is Henrietta's husband, my paternal grandfather Isaac Burk, who was then in Montreal, where he often worked as a cabinetmaker and carpenter. He went alone and sometimes the family followed, then returned to New York City where Henrietta's family lived.

The day in 1911 when Miriam was born was sunny and warm. The New York Times headlines that day were about Mexico reorganizing itself politically, possible mayoral candidates, foreign banks doing business in New York, and Mrs. Taft returning from New York to Washington after falling ill. One small front-page item quoted a City College professor as saying that life "must have come from other worlds," with germs brought to Earth on the energy of light rushing through the universe. I kid you not.

In 1912, at the age of one, Miriam crossed the border from the United States to Canada, traveling with her mother Henrietta and two siblings, to be reunited with Isaac in Montreal. While living in Montreal, Henrietta gave birth to their fourth child, Sidney Burk. 

In 1915, when Sidney was one year old, Henrietta brought him, Miriam, Mildred, and Harold back across the border to New York City for good. Isaac soon returned to the Big Apple and that's where they planted permanent roots.

Happy birthday to Aunt Miriam, who was a gracious and glamorous aunt.

If I Could Do It Over: Oral History

A few years before my late father-in-law Edgar J. Wood passed away in 1986, my husband sat down with him on two occasions, to ask questions about the past. He had a microphone set up on the coffee table and a cassette ready to tape his father's oral history. 

This was a first-ever attempt to ask the last of the older generation about family history and his personal history. Great idea, and I'm grateful my husband did this.

Because hubby has a journalism background, he was prepared with lots and lots of questions for Ed, and held a pad and pen to take notes. (Me, looking back now with hindsight: Pages of questions, taking notes--maybe too direct, maybe a little overwhelming for the interviewee.)

Of course, my husband did many things right: He tested his recording device just before the interviewee began. He smiled and looked interested even when the story seemed old. He asked for the time to interview and made sure the place was quiet and free from interruptions. He got his father's agreement to do the interviews. And afterward, he transcribed the recordings to share with family.

Set the stage for a solid oral history

If we could go back in time and redo this opportunity to capture oral history from Ed, I would:

1. Ask open-ended questions that encourage freewheeling answers. "How did you and Mom meet?" encourages the interviewee to tell a story. This should be a conversation, NOT an interrogation. Interviewers can guide the conversation but not force it or make the interviewee feel cornered. The beginning of an interview sets the tone. My late father-in-law was nervous and not comfortable for the first half an hour, I could hear from the recording, but then he got into story-telling mode and recounted some fascinating tales!
2. Allow time for thinking and remembering. It takes time to retrieve memories from decades in the past. When there are pauses in the conversation, take a deep breath and be patient. Don't push the interviewee, don't rush into the next question. 
3. Allow for natural follow-up. Reporters might have to get through a list of questions, but not family historians. Listening to answers, reflecting on what the interviewee says, will naturally lead to gentle follow-up comments and questions. Being overeager is a trap. After Ed got more comfortable, he was able to recall more vividly some high and low points of his life, and he did share some of his stronger feelings.
4. Try not to interrupt. There are stories that folks just love to tell, over and over. But those stories may lead down a fresh path if we listen with interest and respect...and wait for the right opportunity to pose a natural follow-up comment or question. While my husband was listening to a well-worn story, suddenly his father remembered a key new detail! Some of these memories may be positive, some painful, so I think it's best to let the interview unfold without rigid structure, but with an occasional subtle, supportive comment and open, accepting body language.
5. Interview for fairly short periods, with flexibility. Ed sat for two interviews, each an hour long. Now I think that was too long per interview. I would aim for half an hour and see how things go and continue if the interviewee would like to keep going (depending on age and health, etc). I would also encourage the interviewee to jot down stories he or she would enjoy telling in an interview. This should be a positive experience, not a chore. 

Questions and issues

Back in the day, nobody could envision how much genealogy research would or could eventually reveal about the past. So my late father-in-law had no way to know that eventually we would uncover some irregularities in his stories. Not just timing mismatches, but deliberate obfuscations. Looking back, we now know Ed left out certain details and deflected some questions to avoid disclosing difficult facts or feelings.

Even if we had known about these issues at the time of the interview, I believe it would have been a bad idea to challenge the interviewee's version, what that person wanted to remember/convey. 

If I could go back in time and help my husband redo those oral history interviews, I would recommend that he listen with his heart to what the interviewee was saying and the reason for telling the story that way. Maybe I would suggest rephrasing a particularly direct or sensitive question or give a gentle followup question, nothing confrontational. I wouldn't want the interviewee to get upset or to stop talking.

As the family historian who is lucky enough to have oral history content like Ed's interviews, I can always provide context if and when I retell parts of the story for the benefit of future generations. 

If something was too sensitive to disclose at this time (and that was NOT the case with Ed), I would simply leave a note in my files and let the next generation decide what and when to disclose.

What do you think? 

Honoring Three Generations of Moms

My beloved Mom (Daisy Schwartz Burk, 1919-1981, shown above) was born in New York City, the daughter of a Hungarian-born immigrant, Henrietta "Minnie" Schwartz Farkas (1886-1964, shown below) and the granddaughter of a Hungarian-born immigrant, Lena Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938, at bottom). 

My great-grandma Lena arrived in New York City 125 years ago to join her husband who had crossed the Atlantic first to make a fresh start for his family. My grandma Minnie sailed, as a teenager, with three other siblings, to be reunited with her parents in the Big Apple 124 years ago. She had hopes and dreams for her new life!

If not for these three mothers, I wouldn't be here. So on Mother's Day, I'm honoring the memory of these special moms in my family tree, with love. 

When Was That Volunteer Last Active on Find A Grave?

Something new at Find a Grave: Now when you look at a user's profile, you can see approximately when that person was last active on the site.

Before I submit an edit to a Find a Grave memorial, or try to contact that memorial's manager, I can check how long it's been since that user has been active. 

Here are the activity levels I've seen so far:

• Over a year ago. My interpretation of this activity level is I doubt I'll hear from the user if I ask a question or submit an edit.
• In the past year. Maybe I'll hear back, maybe not, but there's some hope.
• Last month. Active not very long ago, so I'll probably get a response to an inquiry or edit.
• This month. An active user! Better chance I'll get a response.

I like this new activity indicator and will aim to keep mine at "This month" if I can!