Look for Kernels of Truth in Family Stories

I love a good family story. "Teddy was late to his own wedding because his horse ran off." "They gave Mom their unopened pay packets every Friday and she doled out a handful of nickels for the next week's subway fare." "Minnie wouldn't accept a suitor chosen for her by her family--she threw his engagement ring out the window."

These three stories were passed down in my mother's family tree. Too bad I can never confirm the story about the horse that ran away. And at first, the other two stories sounded a little outlandish, despite multiple cousins having heard variations of those legends from family history.

New World, new approach to household finances

Then I was introduced to two books that changed my understanding of these family stories. The first was Immigrant Women in the Land of Dollars by Elizabeth Ewen. The author looks at the lives of Jewish and Italian women immigrants on the Lower East Side of Manhattan during the peak years of immigration to America. Mothers and daughters learned to approach household finances in a different way when they moved to America. In the Old World, barter was an everyday experience. In the New World, cash was an absolute necessity.

The chapter on "Our Daily Bread" describes the common experience of the immigrant mother as strict organizer of household finance, demanding unopened pay packets from working children and only giving back the bare minimum of coins for each child to get to their job in between paydays. The rest was kept for rent, food, and other household expenses.

There was the kernel of truth in my family story: According to descendants, my great-grandma Lena Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938) stood at the door of the family apartment on payday with her hand extended, taking pay packets from teenage and adult children as they arrived home from work. 

Sometimes my great uncles Julius and Peter wouldn't have enough money for subway rides to and from work, so they would reportedly walk home from Manhattan to the Bronx on occasion. Speculation was that the boys actually dared to spend a nickel or two on some treat or diversion. Instead of asking for more from Lena, they walked home and said nothing. Lena was a strict disciplinarian and no one wanted to get on her bad side or they'd get a sharp rap on the head. Really.

Marrying the family's choice?

The second book I read was Bread Givers by Anzia Yezierska, a Polish-born Jewish author who immigrated to New York City with her family in the 1890s. This overwrought 1925 novel tells the story of conflict in a poor Jewish family transplanted from Poland to tenement life in lower Manhattan. I find historical fiction such as this sometimes offers windows into attitudes and challenges from past generations (allowing for excessive drama in the narrative).

This book really caught my attention when the father of the family rejected the men that three of his daughters want to marry. Instead, he arranged marriages to bring himself financial gain, even though the daughters would be unhappy. The youngest daughter resolves to only marry for love. And after many trials and tribulations for the family, that's what she does. New world, new approach to marriage. 

In my family, Lena's husband Moritz Farkas (1857-1936) earned little in his work in New York City, so everyone had to pitch in to keep the household afloat. Moritz was very fond of all his daughters, and each thought she was the favorite, by the way. When my grandma Minnie, the oldest daughter, fell in love with Teddy Schwartz, Moritz and Lena objected because they thought their daughter could do much better. That's when they arranged what they believed would be a more suitable match, a marriage they hoped would give Minnie a better life. 

Minnie would not even consider an arranged marriage. Knowing her as I did in later life, I can imagine her throwing the engagement ring out the window to show her final answer to the arranged marriage. Family story is that Peter and Julius scrambled down the stairs of the tenement to the sidewalk to search for the ring, but no one has any idea whether they found it and who kept it. With Minnie as the role model, every one of her siblings who married chose his or her own partner. It was a new world and the family learned to adapt. Kernel of truth!

Did Teddy's horse really run away on the morning of his wedding to Minnie? It doesn't really matter...what matters is that there are kernels of truth to explain the stories passed down through the decades, and to remind descendants that ancestors were more than names and dates on a family tree. Thinking of my great-grandma Lena, who collected paypackets to finance her household, on the 87th anniversary of her passing, in March of 1938.

Leni Kunstler Farkas, Immigrant Woman in the Land of Dollars

My great-grandma Leni Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938) was the prototypical strong immigrant woman. Just look at her, posing for a photo in the mid-1930s, and you can see her determination.

Until I read Immigrant Women in the Land of Dollars, I didn't realize that Leni's strong-willed matriarchal tactics were typical of immigrant women running households in the Lower East Side of New York City.

Leni (Americanized as Lena) married Moritz Farkas (1857-1936) in Hungary. They raised a family of 8 children while he leased land and supervised farming. When Moritz's crops were destroyed by hail in 1899--the one year he failed to buy insurance--he escaped his creditors by sailing on the S. S. Spaarndam to New York City, leaving wife and children behind with her mother.

After a year, Leni sailed alone to New York to be with Moritz. Four of their children joined them a year later, and the remaining four were finally reunited with their family 18 months after that--having been forced to wait for forged documents so the boys could avoid conscription in Hungary.

In America, Leni and Moritz had three more children, making a grand total of 13 mouths to feed. Finding herself in a dollar economy rather than a farming community where barter was common, Leni had to find a new way forward for the family.

Leni was a strict disciplinarian, giving orders, assigning chores, and tolerating no backtalk. She sent the older children out to find work and made sure they went to night school to learn English; the youngest attended P.S. 188 on Lewis and Houston streets. On payday, she demanded the pay packets from all her working children and handed back some nickels for carfare (bus or subway) plus a bite of lunch. The older boys got some carefare but had to walk home many days.

Leni's husband, Moritz, had weak lungs; he found work intermittently as an apple peddler and a presser. As a result, the children's wages were needed to cover household expenses. Still, there were some years when Leni put aside enough cash to vacation by herself in the Catskills for two or three weeks during the stiflingly hot New York City summers!

The family thrived under Leni's control and as the children grew up, married, and had children of their own, all returned to Leni and Moritz's on a regular basis. The children formed the Farkas Family Tree to continue their close-knit relationships. The patriarch and matriarch were honorary members. Every March after Leni and Moritz died, the family tree would hold a moment of silence in their memory--a tradition started by my grandpa Tivador Schwartz, who married Leni and Moritz's oldest daughter.

This post honors my great-grandma as a strong woman, the focus of week 10 in Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors series. And a big thank you to my Cousin B, who began collecting family stories and cranking microfilmed Census records more than 20 years ago! She saved the memories of her mother's generation and now I'm passing them along to the next generation via my blog and in many other ways.

Matriarchal Monday: "Immigrant Women in the Land of Dollars"

For Women's History Month, and for insights into the lives of my immigrant grandmothers, I just finished reading Immigrant Women in the Land of Dollars by Elizabeth Ewen.

This nonfiction book gave me valuable background for understanding the lives of immigrant women like Minnie Farkas and Henrietta Mahler who came to New York City between 1890 to 1925. Although the book focuses on Jewish and Italian households, some of the observations apply to immigrant households in general.

One insight, from the "Our Daily Bread" chapter, explained why my great-grandma (Lena Kunstler Farkas) insisted that her children (including my grandma Minnie) hand over their pay packets in their entirety. Immigrant families simply couldn't be supported by the wages of the father alone--if he found steady work--and as soon as children were able, they went to work to help pay for food and rent and clothing.

The book observes that mothers had to exert control over the children's pay early (before the children learned to spend) or they wouldn't have enough money to keep the family going. Some immigrant families also needed money to pay for bringing other family members from the home country to America. So teenagers and even children in their 20s gave the pay packet to Mom, who then doled out car fare and maybe a bit for snacks or lunch and kept the rest for the household's expenses. This was the pattern in my Farkas family, for sure.

Another tidbit I learned is why my elderly Schwartz cousin made a point of mentioning that the clothes worn by my female ancestors in Hungary were good quality. Newcomers from Europe came to realize that in New York (and probably throughout America), "greenhorn" ladies needed to wear stylish clothing -- even if inexpensive -- if they wanted to be accepted into the mainstream, as the author points out in her chapter titled "First Encounters."

Quality was very important in the Old Country as a mark of financial achievement, and that's why my cousin emphasized that point. However, being seen in the latest styles was much more important for ladies in the New World. Luckily, my Farkas grandma and great aunts were super with a sewing machine and could whip up fashionable dresses for their daughters.

My immigrant grandfathers both boarded with immigrant families in NYC tenements before marrying. This book says (in the "House and Home" chapter) that boarding with immigrants who were originally from the same area was extremely common, especially among men who arrived alone and needed someone to cook for them, etc. The book also points out that a boarder often got the best bed and/or the only bedroom.

Grandpa Isaac Burk boarded with his future in-laws, the Mahler family, for a short time after arriving in NYC.  Unfortunately, I'll never know whether Grandpa Isaac knew Grandma Henrietta before he was a boarder in her family's apartment, or whether love blossomed once he was part of the household.

PS: Today is the 125th anniversary of the wedding of my great uncle Joseph Jacobs to Eva Michalovsky. They married in Manhattan on this date in 1890, a Sunday.