Chronicling My Farkas Ancestors

My latest family history photo book is about my Farkas ancestors, starting with the journey-takers who came to America at the turn of the 20th century. 

Great-grandfather Moritz Farkas (1857-1946), born in Hungary, was financially ruined when a hail storm destroyed his crops, leading him to sail to New York in search of a new life in 1899. A year later, his wife, great-grandma Leni Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938) followed him to New York. Their eight children arrived at Ellis Island in two groups during the next couple of years...and then they got to meet the three youngest children who were born in Manhattan.

My grandma Hermina Farkas was in the first group of children to be reunited with their parents in a tenement in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. Refusing an arranged marriage, she married grandpa Theodore Schwartz in 1911. 

The photo book under construction includes a colorful word cloud featuring the many surnames and given names of the Farkas and Kunstler and Schwartz ancestors in my family tree. I use this free word cloud generator.

Just this week, I wrote a brief bio of my great uncle Fred Farkas (1903-1980) for the photo book. Fred, named for his late grandfather in Hungary, became an accountant and worked for Stinson Aircraft during WWII. Later, he became vice president and controller for Jacobson's Department Stores in Jackson, Michigan. 

Happy birthday to Fred, born on July 15th, 120 years ago this week. He and his parents and siblings are among the Farkas ancestors I'm chronicling in this latest photo book.

"Birthday" is the week 29 genealogy prompt for Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors series. 

Honoring Immigrant Great-Grandpa Moritz for Father's Day

For Father's Day, I'm remembering the patriarch of the Farkas family tree in America. 

My great-grandpa Moritz Farkas (1857-1936) left Hungary in August of 1899, disembarking and remaining in New York City. The catalyst for this journey was a devastating hail storm that wiped out his crops and left him deeply in debt. 

After Moritz established himself in the Big Apple, his wife Leni Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938) joined him in 1900. Their first eight children followed them through Ellis Island within the next two years. (My grandma Hermina was their second oldest child.) Moritz and Leni expanded their family with three more children in New York City.  

To honor these immigrant ancestors, one of my great uncles paid for "The Moritz Farkas Family" to be inscribed on the Ellis Island Wall of Honor, panel 132 (image at top). 

At right is the photo of Moritz now on his memorial page on Find a Grave. I digitally put his name on the photo and included the attribution "Courtesy Farkas family."

Of course Moritz and Leni will make an appearance in my next family history photo book, about my maternal grandparents, Hermina Farkas and Theodore Schwartz. 

Happy Father's Day, great-grandpa Moritz. I was born long after you passed away, so sadly, I couldn't get to know you . . . but I know that without your decision to sail to New York City in 1899, I wouldn't be here today. You are remembered with great affection.

International Women's Day: Honoring the Women in My Family Tree

 

Today is International Women's Day!

To honor the women in my family tree, let me present:

• Daisy Schwartz Burk, my Mom
• Hermina Farkas Schwartz, my maternal Grandma
• Leni Kunstler Farkas, my maternal great-grandmother
• Henrietta Mahler Burk, my paternal Grandma
• Rachel Shuham Jacobs, my paternal great-great-grandmother
• Tillie Jacobs Mahler, my paternal great-grandmother

Thinking of them with affection and appreciation today, March 8, 2023.

Drool-worthy Food from Family History

When I indexed the 30 years of meeting notes from my mother's Farkas Family Tree association, I never thought to index the foods so carefully and deliciously described. Those meeting minutes have given me lots of genealogy clues and insights into family history dynamics over the years. This week, I drooled over the talk of food!

The tree (known within the family as the FFT) was formed in 1933 by the adult children of Lena Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938) and Morris Farkas (1857-1936), who left Hungary for a new life in America at the turn of the 20th century. 

Since their descendants mostly lived in the New York City area, the tree meetings provided a structure for relatives to see each other often.

Not only did the tree conduct "business," such as purchasing cemetery plots, it also served as a focal point for socializing all year. And socializing means food, right?!

From dessert to full meals

In the first year, a Depression period, only desserts were described, such as home-made cheese strudel served by my great aunt Jennie Katz Farkas (1886-1974) in December, 1933.

It didn't take very long for a little culinary rivalry to creep in. Sometimes meeting hosts and hostesses offered a big spread of delicatessen meats, cheeses and salads. Others prepared roast beef with lots of side dishes, served buffet style. 

Turkey wasn't just for Thanksgiving. Given the size of the crowd (at least 15 adults per meeting, plus their children), cooking a turkey made sense. The minutes for one meeting, echoing comments in others, say: "A bee-line was made straight for the delicious turkey, salads, and all the trimmings." 

One night late in the 1930s, when the FFT met at the apartment of my maternal grandparents, Theodore Schwartz (1887-1965) and Hermina Farkas Schwartz (1886-1964), the secretary reported in the minutes: 

"Our host and hostess for the evening, Ted and Min, rather outdid themselves in the preparation of a meal before this meeting. But the guests did the [hot] dogs--and I don't mean Skippy--justice. But we must not forget the many side dishes accompanying the dogs. Sauerkraut, potato salad, beans, and others were not spared. I am sure the guests of the evening would have preferred to sleep after that, to the "hard" work that they proceeded to put in." [Note: the actual business meeting lasted for an hour, followed by card playing "until all hours."]

War-time meetings and beyond

During World War II, rationing and food shortages forced the hosting families to change their menus, I noticed as I read through the meeting minutes. 

One hostess was "congratulated and thanked for the franks and trimmings" she served after business was concluded. How did this come about? A clue in another set of meeting minutes, when a hostess reminded relatives to please bring their ration books so they could get enough of certain foods, especially for holiday meals.

After the war, so many of the members were busy with growing families (marriages, children, grandchildren) that the FFT met less often. The tree organized a yearly summer picnic in the park or at the beach, with barbecued franks and burgers. But no more holiday meals for 50 at home. Instead, the FFT held big Thanksgiving bashes in Manhattan hotels or restaurants during the 1950s, so all members could enjoy the festivities without food prep, cooking, or cleanup.

Here's my great aunt Ella's favorite rice pudding recipe--more custard than rice. She wrote it for 6-8 servings, scaling up for the family tree crowds. She didn't note size of baking dish, probably a buttered two-quart oven-safe pan, so just experiment!

Ella's Custardy Rice Pudding

1/4 cup rice

1 TB butter

1/3 cup sugar

1 tsp salt (for water)

2 1/2 - 3 cups milk (adjust as needed)

3 eggs, well beaten

cinnamon (optional)

Directions: Heat oven to 350 degrees. Meanwhile, boil rice in a lot of salted water. Drain and place cooked rice in oven-safe deep dish. Add butter and sugar to rice, mix, and then pour at least 2 1/2 cups of milk over all, until 1" from top of dish. Mix again. Now fold eggs into mixture, very gently. Top with sprinkling of cinnamon if desired, and bake for 40 minutes. Turn off oven and leave dish in for 10 more minutes. Remove gently, cool on rack for a few minutes, serve warm or chilled.

This is my "Food and Drink" post for Amy Johnson Crow's weekly #52Ancestors prompt.

Just Curious: Did My Immigrant Ancestors Know English?

As I write bite-sized bios of my great-grandparents, who died long before I was born, I find I'm curious about their daily lives. 

For instance: Did great-grandma Leni Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938) and great-grandpa Moritz Farkas (1857-1936) become fluent enough to speak, read, and write in English? 

Both were born in Hungary (in an area now in Ukraine). Both were, I'm confident without any real proof, able to read and write in their native Hungarian language. Why? Because Leni was the daughter of a family that owned property and operated an inn...Moritz supervised his in-laws' vineyard and leased lands to farm. They interacted with officials, not just family members, and would have needed some level of proficiency in Hungarian.

Comparing family stories and research 

Research and family stories agree on many aspects of these immigrant ancestors' lives. Moritz arrived in New York City in August, 1899, Leni arrived in November, 1900, and their Hungarian-born children followed in two waves. Moritz worked as a presser and cloak maker within the New York City garment industry. Leni was in charge of their children and ruled the household. 

The youngest kids went to city public schools and picked up English quickly and naturally. The older children (mid-to-late teens) worked during the day and went to night school to learn English. At the end of the work week, they handed their pay packets to Leni. She doled out carfare and lunch money for the next week, and kept the rest for rent, food, and other expenses (including an occasional summer getaway of her own, according to family lore). 

Both Leni and Moritz lived in New York City for three decades. Moritz worked outside the family, while Leni may have had dealings with landlords, shopkeepers, school officials, and others in the neighborhood.

But how well could they speak, read, and/or write English? My oldest cousins, who were toddlers when these ancestors died, have distant memories that could only be based on actual conversations, in English, with Leni and Moritz. What other clues can I gather?

Start with the US Census

My first step was to return to the US Census, which often asked about proficiency in English. Interestingly inconsistent answers!

• 1900 Census: Moritz lived as a boarder in someone else's Lower East Side tenement apartment. For the question "speak English?" the enumerator had originally written YES but overwrote it and the answer is illegible.
• 1910 Census: YES, Moritz can speak English, according to this record, but NO, Leni's answer is "Magyar."  
• 1920 Census: NO, neither Moritz nor Leni is recorded as being able to speak English. Their native tongue is "Jewish," according to this Census.
• 1930 Census: YES, both Moritz and Leni are recorded as being able to speak English. The language spoken at home before coming to America is listed as "Magyar."

Next stop: naturalization documentation

Next, I looked at Moritz's Petition for Naturalization, dated June of 1906. He had been in America for nearly seven years at that point. 

As shown at top, the commissioner who signed this petition indicated that no, Moritz could NOT "read or write the English language intelligently."

So...yes or no?

My conclusion, based on this research, is that for the first decade in America, neither of these ancestors could do more than understand a bit of basic English and possibly answer with a stock phrase. 

I believe, based on my research and my cousins' dim memories, that eventually, both Leni and Moritz understood spoken English fairly well, and could converse in English with people outside the family, even if their vocabulary was not extensive or sophisticated.

I doubt either ancestor could read or write very much English by the time they passed away. Most likely, they (like so many immigrants) relied on their children all their lives to be interpreters and read/write English when necessary. 

-- This is my post for week 4 of Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors series, with the theme of "curious."

Three Brick Walls Smashed by Remarkable WikiTreers

This past Wednesday, the remarkable WikiTree volunteers who worked tirelessly on improving my family tree were able to break three challenging brick walls. 

Overall, they improved many branches of my tree, adding people, lots of background, detailed sources, and dozens of clues for me to investigate! 

If you want to see the reveal as it unfolded during the WikiTree broadcast, take a look here. 

And here's a link to learn more about WikiTree's collaborative family tree. WikiTree is free, the emphasis is on connections, and it's a very friendly place!

Breakthrough on my Burk line

The WikiTree broadcast led with the news of an important breakthrough on my Burk line. 

When I first ventured into genealogy, my goal was to discover the where, when, and how my paternal grandfather Isaac Burk (1882-1943) died. In the process, I learned about my paternal great-grandfather, Solomon Elias Burk--but that was as far back as I could go.

Until now. The WikiTree team was able to discover the name of my great-great-grandfather, Meyer Burk, in Gargzdai, Lithuania, the place where my grandpa Isaac and his siblings were born (see WikiTree image at top). An exciting breakthrough! Because the name Meyer has been carried down in the Burk line through multiple generations, he is a most welcome addition--among the earliest of my ancestors on the family tree.

Breakthrough on my Farkas line

Yet another brick wall was busted when the WikiTree team uncovered a brother for my great-grandfather, Moritz Farkas (1857-1936). 

Digging really deep, the WikiTreers found evidence of Simon Farkas (b. about 1852), who is almost certainly Moritz's older brother. The names fit, the dates and places fit--Botpalad, Hungary was where a number of Farkas ancestors were born. 

This is an intriguing breakthrough because Simon's father was Ferencz, as was Moritz's father, according to the official birth records. Now I hope to learn more by tracing Simon's line, starting with the research notes provided by WikiTreers.

Breakthrough on my Kunstler line

One more breakthrough was the discovery of a possible brother for Samuel (Shmuel) Zanvil Kunstler, my great-great-grandfather. A little background (corrected): More than 20 years ago, a cousin visited this ancestor's grave and saw that the stone lists Josef Moshe as the father of Samuel.

This week, the WikiTreers found records pointing to innkeeper Herman (Hersko) Kunstler, in NagyBereg, as a possible brother to Samuel. The Kunstlers did, in fact, operate an inn, which confirms some kind of connection! 

Updated: Herman's father is Josef M., according to the records uncovered by the WikiTreers. Samuel's father, according to his gravestone, was Josef Moshe, whose father was Hillel. I'm going to take a closer look, but this is extremely promising.

Clearly, more research is in my future, a happy prospect for 2022. 

It was truly an honor to be a featured guest during the WikiTree Challenge.

I want to thank the many WikiTreers who worked so hard and dug so deep to improve my family tree.

This is my week #50 post for Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors challenge. 

I've already signed up for the 2022 edition of #52 Ancestors! Follow this link if you want to sign up, too.

Preserving Our Family's Legacy of Needlework

Last year, I wrote about my husband's grandma Floyda Mabel Steiner McClure's needlework legacy. A love of sewing and crocheting has continued in that family to the present day. I've wrapped each item in archival tissue to keep it safe for the future when it will be inherited by the next generation.

In my family, we have a number of hand-made needlework items we treasure for their beauty and for the long tradition they represent. 

At left, a detail from an embroidered set of linens by my mother, Daisy Schwartz Burk (1919-1981). The set is in great condition, washed and ironed and stored in an archival box for preservation. I put a label on the box to indicate who made the needlework and who inherits it.

Mom learned to embroider and to crochet from her mother, Hermina Farkas Schwartz (1886-1964), who also used her treadle machine to sew clothes. I imagine Hermina learned needlework from her mother, Lena Kunstler Farkas, and so on.

Love of needlework has been passed down from generation to generation in my Farkas family. Here are two afghans, one knit by a special cousin and one crocheted by a special niece. Each time I cuddle up in one of these, I think of the person who painstakingly made it, one stitch at a time. 

My hope is that by documenting these homemade heirlooms, and keeping them safe, future generations will be know they come from a very long line of talented needlework enthusiasts. 

None of my ancestors were quilters, but I got interested and over the years, I've made a number of wall quilts, bed quilts, and baby quilts. Each one has a label attached to the back, showing my name as the quilter, the date, and a photo...sometimes the photo is me, sometimes of the recipient if the quilt was a gift.

Now another of my nieces has taken up quilting and enjoys stitching quilts for her young ones and for friends. I'm so happy the tradition of homemade needlework is continuing in our family!

This is my week 49 post in Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors series of genealogy prompts.

Finding Great Aunt Jennie's Marriage Cert

My great aunt Jennie Katz Farkas (1886-1974) was an important linchpin in my Farkas family.

She married my grandma's older brother, Alexander Farkas (1885-1948) on Christmas Eve, 1916. Both were in the clothing business--he as a salesman, later a garment manufacturer, and she as a designer for his clothing lines. 

Jennie and Alex never had children. Both were deeply involved in community activities and family events. By retelling their stories, I aim to honor their memories and let future generations know a bit about them.

Idea for a Family Circle

As the Great Depression took hold, it was Jennie's idea to have a regular get-together of the children and grandchildren of the Farkas patriarch and matriarch (Moritz Farkas and Leni Kunstler Farkas). Moritz and Lena (my great-grandparents) were the original immigrants to leave Hungary for New York City, and they were also Jennie's dad-in-law and mom-in-law.

Thanks to Jennie, the Farkas Family Circle began meeting in March, 1933, later changing its name to the Farkas Family Tree. Ten times a year, the Farkas family gathered for food, conversation, games, and sometimes serious business (such as pooling money to buy burial plots). I have the written minutes of the meetings, a time capsule of family history.

In 1959, the family historian dedicated the tree's annual meeting report to Jennie, saying:

In her own quiet way, she was probably more responsible than any other in the birth of the Farkas Family Tree. Since the inception...she has been just about the most ardent supporter...and just about the most regular attender of meetings.

Three steps to Jennie & Alex's marriage cert

I know a lot about Jennie and her husband Alex, and I even have the fun group photo taken at their wedding in 1916. Jennie could see a fashion in a magazine and replicate it on her own, no pattern needed. In fact, she sewed the dresses for many a Farkas wedding in the 1930s and 1940s.

Although I have the transcription of Jennie and Alex's marriage certificate, I never saw the actual handwritten New York City cert until I took three steps today. 

Step one was to use the new Family Search interface to locate the record of Jennie and Alex's marriage cert. It was linked to a digitized microfilm not yet indexed but visible to me in my bunny slippers at home. Yes!

Step two was clicking through the unindexed images of licenses from that period of 1916. Happily, certs from September to December were together on a single microfilm. However, there were 1200+ certs in that microfilm, not in chronological order. Click, click, click...

Step three took me 769 clicks but I successfully landed on their marriage cert, shown at top. Note that "Jenny" is the way her name is shown on the front, which was not written by the bride or groom. On the back, the signature clearly says "Jennie Katz." I downloaded front and back for my records, and for further investigation.

"Aunt Jennie" is how she was known in the family, and "Jennie" is how she's recorded in my trees, with affection and respect.

--

"Steps" = the theme of Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors challenge for week 39.

Enhancing, Colorizing, Animating Tillie and Leni for International Women's Day

Today is #InternationalWomensDay, a good day to honor the memories of two immigrant ancestors in my family tree by focusing on bringing their faces to life using My Heritage's amazing photo/animation tools.

Possibly I'm one of the last genealogy fans on the planet to finally try My Heritage's "Deep Nostalgia" animation tool. I also enhanced and colorized their photos with My Heritage's wonderful photo tools. 

Great-Grandma Tillie Rose Jacobs Mahler (1852?-1952)

Tillie was my father's Lithuanian-born grandmother, who came to New York City in 1886. She was widowed in her late 50s, with 7 of her 10 children still living after the death of her husband Meyer Elias Mahler (1861-1910). Tillie made her home with one or more of her grown children after being widowed, and died at the age of either 99 or 100 (no one was ever quite sure).

Above is her picture. I used My Heritage's automated tools to enhance (sharpening facial features) and colorize (more lifelike, although I don't know how accurate the result actually is). 

Great-Grandma Leni Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938)

Leni was my mother's Hungarian-born grandmother who came to New York City in 1900, a year after her husband. Soon afterward, they sent for their children to join them and all were settled in New York by 1903. Leni, who ruled the household finances with a firm hand, outlived her husband Moritz Farkas (1857-1936) by only two years. 

The enhancement and colorization brings Leni's face to life for me and other descendants who never had the opportunity to meet our great-grandma.

Happy Birthday Lady Liberty, From My Immigrant Ancestors

 

"The Statue of Liberty Enlightening the World" was dedicated on this day in 1886. A gift from France to the United States, Lady Liberty is situated on Liberty Island in New York Harbor. She doesn't look a day over 134, does she?

My maternal great-grandparents (Moritz Farkas and Leni Kunstler Farkas) passed the iconic statue when arriving in New York City from Hungary. Moritz sailed in 1899 and Leni sailed in 1900. Four of their children (including my maternal grandma, Hermina Farkas), followed them to New York in 1901. I remember folks in the Farkas family expressing a fondness for Lady Liberty, a symbol of freedom and opportunity for our immigrant ancestors.

My widowed paternal great-great-grandmother (Rachel Shuham Jacobs) and her daughter (my great-grandma Tillie Jacobs Mahler) both arrived in 1886. Along with Tillie came her two children, my grandma (Henrietta Mahler) and great uncle (David Mahler). All of these immigrant ancestors saw the Statue of Liberty on their way into New York City. 

My paternal great-grandfather Meyer Elias Mahler (husband of Tillie Jacobs Mahler) arrived earlier, in May of 1885, so he definitely did NOT see the statue, which was brought to America in June of 1885. 

On behalf of my immigrant ancestors, I wish Lady Liberty a happy birthday--and I salute the courage and determination of my ancestors who sought a better life in America! To celebrate, I enjoyed a breath-taking virtual tour of the State of Liberty, seen here. 

Ancestors Followed the Subway Out of Manhattan

1989 map of New York
City subway system

Sometimes a map or multiple maps can help us understand ancestors' movements within a city or region. That's the case with my immigrant Farkas and Schwartz ancestors who lived in New York City around the turn of the 20th century. 

Although they began their new lives in Manhattan, my maternal great-grandparents and grandparents were able to move to less-crowded residential neighborhoods in the northern borough of the Bronx because of the subway.

The Farkas family rode the subway and "the el"

My collection of now-obsolete
New York City subway tokens

My great-grandfather Moritz Farkas (1857-1936) was escaping financial ruin after hail destroyed his crops in Hungary. He sailed to New York and initially was a boarder in someone else's Lower East Side Manhattan tenement apartment. This was in August of 1899, before any modern mass-transit systems were even built. Once his wife, Lena Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938) and their children arrived from Hungary, they moved to an apartment of their own on the Lower East Side.

By 1920, however, Moritz, Lena, and their family (and many of the married children) were living in the borough of the Bronx, just north of Manhattan. This move was made possible by the expansion of the city's subway lines into what was then a much less-populated area. Ironically, many of the subway lines were actually overhead, not underground, and were usually called "the el," short for "elevated."

Now Farkas family members could ride the subway to work and to visit each other, not to mention go to the Bronx Zoo, the Bronx Botanical Gardens, and Coney Island by train! Family stories, corroborated by more than one cousin, say that to save money, Lena sometimes gave her two middle sons only a nickel each per day to ride the subway to work...one way. They had to walk home when the nickels ran out.

Teddy and Minnie never needed a car

My maternal grandpa Theodore "Teddy" Schwartz (1887-1965) also came to New York City from Hungary, arriving in 1902, before the subway opened to the public. He lived as a boarder on the Lower East Side for the first nine years, then married my grandma Hermina "Minnie" Farkas (1886-1964) in 1911. At that point, the subway system was growing by leaps and bounds, reaching far and wide year after year.

With affordable mass transit within walking distance, Teddy and Minnie moved their family from Manhattan to the south Bronx, then a fast-growing residential area with new schools and parks. They settled on Fox Street, directly across from an elementary school, and Teddy opened a grocery store down the block.

Teddy and Minnie never had a car and didn't need one, given the ongoing improvements of the New York City subway system. Here's what the network looked like in 1939. By that time, all three of their children were working--taking the subway into Manhattan and back to the Bronx on every business day. The price was right and the subway was the fast track to better-paying jobs in the heart of New York City.

"On the map" is the #Genealogy prompt for week 38 of the #52Ancestors series.

Grandma Minnie's Lavalier Pendant

Minnie Farkas Schwartz's pendant

My immigrant maternal grandma Hermina (Minnie) Farkas Schwartz (1886-1964) lived a modest life, with not a lot to spare for frills like jewelry. She and her husband worked long hours, standing on their feet in the Bronx grocery store they owned.

They took one "honeymoon" trip to Florida during retirement, decades after they were married. Otherwise, their big retirement extravagance(!) was renting an inexpensive bungalow outside New York City for a few weeks each summer.

Yet Minnie left each of her granddaughters a couple of fine jewelry pieces. I received the delicate gold pendant shown here, plus a diamond ring. Sis's inherited earrings have lovely European-cut diamonds. I'm documenting these heirlooms for future generations, and telling Grandma's stories to go along with the jewelry.

The question that Sis and I want to answer is . . . where did Grandma Minnie get this jewelry, and when?

Minnie's Immigrant Background 

Minnie was the second-oldest child of Moritz Farkas (1857-1936) and Leni Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938). The family lived in Beregszasz, Hungary, where Moritz managed agricultural land and leased some land for his own crops.

According to family legend, Moritz was so successful for so long that one year, he didn't bother insuring his crops. That year, a big hailstorm wiped out his plantings, leaving him financially ruined.

In 1899, Moritz sailed for America to make a new life, leaving his wife and children in Hungary. In 1900, Leni's mother sent her to America to reunite with Moritz, while the children remained behind. Finally, Minnie (age 14) and her older brother brought two of their younger siblings with them to New York to reunite with the parents. It wasn't until 1903 that the entire family was together in one small apartment on East 3rd Street in the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

Minnie and Teddy in the Grocery Business

Minnie immediately went to work to help support the family. She met her future husband, Tivador "Teddy" Schwartz (1887-1965) in a Hungarian deli in the Lower East Side. Initially, her family was against the match, but she eventually persuaded them to give their consent. Minnie and Teddy married in 1911, both 24 years old.

Teddy had to give up being an agent for steamship lines when World War I erupted. Instead, he opened a grocery store in the Bronx. For nearly 40 years, Teddy ran a store and Minnie worked alongside him, often relying on her younger sisters to care for her son and twin daughters.

The grocery business helped Minnie and Teddy to weather the Depression with sufficient food, but the stress of long hours standing on their feet hurt their health. Teddy moved his store several times as the population of the Bronx moved northward to more suburban-like neighborhoods. They took their first out-of-state vacation only after selling the store during the 1950s, when they were already in their late 60s.

Who Had Money for Jewelry?

Sis and I wonder how Minnie (or possibly Teddy) acquired the pieces of jewelry that we girls inherited. We agree there was little extra money until possibly after the sale of the grocery store. Maybe Teddy splurged for Minnie's special birthday or their 25th or 50th wedding anniversary? Or Sis wonders whether customers may have paid for groceries with jewelry during the Depression?

Next step: Asking an older cousin whether Minnie's mother might have brought some good jewelry with her from Hungary or inherited jewelry heirlooms from her ancestors. UPDATE: Cousin doesn't know of any inherited jewelry that came from Hungary, so the origin of the lavalier pendant remains a mystery.

Julius Farkas Was a WWI Conscientious Objector

World War I service of great uncle Julius Farkas

My great uncle Julius Farkas (1892-1969) came to New York City from his native Hungary when he was 11 years old. He hadn't seen his father for four years at that point, nor his mother for three years, because they wanted to get settled in America before sending for their children. His dad, Moritz Farkas, and his mom, Leni Kunstler Farkas, sent for the children in two waves--and Julius was in the second wave.

He was one of two "bachelor brothers" in my mother's FARKAS family, never marrying but very close with his siblings. I remember little about him except his smile as he held an unlit but smelly cigar in his hand during family gatherings.

Drafted for World War One

Julius was 25 years old when he was drafted to serve in the U.S. Army during World War I.

When Julius filled out the draft registration card, he wrote his occupation as "Panama hatter" (the craze for those hats had already peaked). He said he was a naturalized citizen, born in Nagy Bereg, Hungary.

But this registration card was different from others I've seen from my family.

At the bottom, Julius claimed exemption from military service on the basis of "conscientious objection." 

Julius in the Army

Like other conscientious objectors in World War I, Julius was given the opportunity to serve in a non-military capacity. He was a confirmed bachelor who lived with his brother or other family members for his entire life. He never cooked professionally, and his cooking skills were almost certainly very limited.

Of course Julius was assigned as an Army cook. However, instead of being shipped overseas with Battery D, 305th Field Artillery, he was transferred to a different unit, as shown above in a transport list from April of 1918. Julius's name is crossed out because he is not going abroad for combat duty. If he had remained with the 305th, he might have been in the second battle of the Somme. Just the thought sent shivers up and down my spine.

In August of 1919, after serving as an Army cook rather than a soldier in the artillery, Julius was honorably discharged and returned home to the Bronx.

Julius after the Army

In the 1920 Census, Julius was living at home with his parents and working as a salesman. By 1925, still living at home, Julius's occupation was grocery salesman.

After that, Julius and his brother Peter opened and operated a small dairy store, specializing in "stinky cheeses" that they often brought with them to family-tree meetings. Julius and Peter both lived with their sister Irene and her family in 1940, listing occupations as grocery owners. They remained nearly inseparable until Peter's death in 1961.

Today I'm remembering great uncle Julius, the conscientious objector who died half a century ago and is buried in Mt. Hebron Cemetery, Flushing, New York.

This is my "soldier" prompt for #52Ancestors by Amy Johnson Crow.

Honoring Burk/Mahler Grandparents on Ellis Island

Finding the Moritz Farkas Family inscription on Ellis Island Wall of Honor

Yesterday, I submitted an order to honor my paternal grandparents, both immigrants, by having their names inscribed on the Ellis Island Wall of Honor.

Maternal Ancestors Already on the Wall

This is the second set of immigrant ancestors to be inscribed on the Wall of Honor. Years ago, my mother's first cousin submitted "The Moritz Farkas Family" to be inscribed on Panel 132.

Moritz Farkas and his wife Lena Kunstler Farkas were my maternal great-grandparents. They came from Hungary just at the turn of the 20th century and settled in New York City.

The photo at top shows my Sis, our cousins, and me visiting Ellis Island in 1996 to photograph the Farkas inscription. It was a stunning beautiful day and we were proud to see "The Moritz Farkas Family" on the wall honoring immigrants.

Burk and Mahler Names to Be Added

Now, with only 5 panels remaining on the Wall of Honor, I decided it was time to pay for ancestors on my father's side to have their names inscribed.

I submitted an order to inscribe the name of my paternal grandpa Isaac Burk and his wife, my paternal grandma Henrietta Mahler Burk. The cost would have been one name for $150, but I ordered a husband-and-wife inscription for $225.

Both deserve to be honored for having the courage and initiative to leave their homelands (Isaac was from Lithuania, Henrietta from Latvia) and make a new life in North America.

Because the Ellis Island order form requires a middle initial (for the format I chose), I had to get a little creative. I never heard or found any middle name for Isaac, so I added "I" for his original name in Lithuania, Itzhak. Similarly, Henrietta had no middle name that I know of, so I added "Y" for her nickname, Yetta.

Schwartz and Farkas Names to Be Added Also

Sis was so excited about memorializing our ancestors on the Ellis Island's Wall of Honor that we immediately ordered our maternal grandparents' names for the wall. The format I chose this time is "Theodore and Hermina Farkas Schwartz" from Hungary.

Ordering before the end of 2019 ensures that these inscriptions will be installed by summer of 2020. I'm looking forward to seeing the names on the wall next year!

Family Drama: Harvest Destroyed by Hail

Moritz Farkas and his twin granddaughters, Dorothy and Daisy

In his homeland of Hungary, my great-grandpa Moritz Farkas (1857-1936) managed crops for the family of his in-laws and leased land to grow other crops. (I've seen notes in Hungarian records confirming his occupation.)

Moritz's crops did well and he prospered for a long time . . . until the year a hail storm wiped out the harvest. (Family story about the hail and his financial ruin was so consistent and believable that I am relying on it.) 

That was the one year my great-grandpa did not insure his crops. His finances were wiped out along with the harvest.

No Harvest Was a Turning Point

With no harvest and a wife (Leni Kunstler, 1865-1938) and eight children to support, Moritz faced a difficult decision about his family's future.

He ultimately decided to leave Hungary and his debts behind and try to make a new life in New York City. He was the first in the family to make this life-changing journey, but not the last.

Moritz arrived in New York in 1899. Like many new immigrants in my family, he initially lived as a boarder in a crowded apartment in the Lower East Side. (Two families of four each plus Moritz meant a total of 9 people shared that one small apartment.)

Slowly Reuniting the Family

Moritz's wife Leni followed him to New York City a year later, in 1900. Meanwhile, the eight children remained with her mother and father in Hungary.

Finally, Moritz and Leni were established enough to begin sending for their children. My grandma Hermina "Minnie" (1886-1964) came with the first group of four in 1901, leaving Hungary when she was just 14 years old.

The four remaining children arrived in 1902, having not seen their father for three years and having missed their mother for two years. Three more babies were born in New York City as the family reunited.

In New York City, Moritz learned skills to work as a presser in the garment trade. Leni and a number of the children also worked in the clothing business for a time. My grandma Minnie was a finisher of fine silk ties, a job she got because of Leni's connection to the Roth family that manufactured the ties.

No Harvest Led to a New Life--and Descendants Like Me!

If not for hail destroying my great-grandpa's harvest, my ancestors would not have left Hungary...

...my grandma would not have met my future grandpa in a New York City deli...

...my mother (a twin in the photo at top, with her grandpa Moritz) would not have been born...

...and I wouldn't be here to retell their tale!

        Thank you to Amy Johnson Crow for this #52Ancestors prompt.

What's So Funny About Family History?

Index to my maternal Farkas Family Tree
meeting minutes, 1933-1964

This week's #52Ancestors challenge by Amy Johnson Crow is comedy. Reading through 500 pages of Farkas Family Tree meeting minutes (index shown above), I found a few tidbits that made me smile.

The Farkas Family Tree was founded by descendants of my maternal great-grandparents, Moritz Farkas (1857-1936) and Leni Kunstler Farkas (1865-1938). It was active from 1933 through 1964. By the time I was old enough to be inducted as a member, the organization was inactive. Some of the incidents I'm going to mention here occurred way before my time, others just within living memory ;0

For instance, the minutes noted that "the twins" (me and my sister) at age four, "went exploring in their pajamas one morning. At 6 am, they walked out of the apartment and were on their way when Mom found them in the hall." Good thing she found us, we lived in a big apartment building in the Bronx! Another report was how one of us decided to scour the kitchen floor with cinnamon. Hoo boy. Funny now, but not funny to Mom at the time!

Serious About Food 

Each and every meeting included some kind of food, serious eating really, but often described with humor. In February, 1934, the minutes reported on a "Pickled Herring Party" that began at 6 pm and continued well past 9 pm. Let me quote: "Boy, oh boy, how those poor herrings suffered, being torn from fin to fin, not to mention the scads of pickled onions also consumed."

Often the snack or meal included quote "stinkin' cheeses" unquote supplied by one of the dairy grocers, most likely the bachelor great uncles, Julius and Peter. I found these mentioned, along with gefilte fish, stuffed cabbage, corned beef, and other delicacies, in the minutes of the 1930s and the 1940s. At a 1945 meeting, the secretary says, "The way we made that most delicious roast beef disappear, one would think we were the descendants of Houdini." In short, the hosts and hostesses seemed to enjoy trying to outdo each other with feasts at monthly meetings.

Funny About Money

From the beginning, paying membership dues involved nagging in a nice way. At one meeting, a trustee said he had audited "last year's swindle sheets" and found $5 missing. What happened? A member said he had paid his dues but the treasurer claimed not have received the cash. To keep the peace, a motion was passed to drop the matter entirely.

Then there were decisions (sometimes loud discussions) about what the family tree would and would not pay for. Regardless of the amount, bills were reported in the minutes. Quoting from the June 1944 minutes: "Bills, now as unwelcome as ever, reared their ugly heads, to the tune of eight dollars."

More than once, when a new treasurer was elected, the minutes observed that the old treasurer happened [wink, wink] to have acquired a new car while being in charge of the tree's money. Since the treasury rarely had more than $100, it's safe to assume coincidence only, right?

Genealogical and Biography Committees--No Kidding

Left unfinished by the tree association were two projects which descendants like myself would dearly love to have, all kidding aside.

Only a few years after the organization began, a "Genealogical Committee" was formed to put the family tree down on paper. After a few months of reporting to the meetings that the committee was "making progress," the idea was dropped during the 1930s. The project was unsuccessfully revived for the tree association's 25th anniversary in 1958. Alas, no written tree was ever given to members or passed down in the family.

Just before WWII, a great uncle had the idea to form a "Biography Committee." He tried for more than a year to collect biographies written by the founding members of the tree. Once again, it was a good idea that never quite worked out, because few members participated. Oh, how I would have enjoyed reading these biographies from the past, a kind of genealogical "mug book" of Farkas ancestors.

A Bonus from the NYC Voter Registration List

1924 NYC Voter Registration List - Bela & Bertha Roth

Three weeks ago, I sent $15, a letter, and a SASE to request the 1924 Voter Registration List for Bela "Bernard" Roth (1860-1941). Bela's first wife was my great-grandma's sister, Zoli "Sali" Kunstler (d. 1895). She died in NagyBereg, Hungary, leaving Bela with three young children under the age of four.

Bela Rebuilds His Life

Bela soon remarried to a much-younger woman--Batia "Bertha" Weiss (1885-1967). Bela and Batia had three children together in Hungary. They initially arrived in New York City in 1907, returned to Hungary, and then came back to New York City permanently in 1914, bringing the entire family with them.

Bela and Zoli's only daughter, Margaret, was photographed at the "cousins table" at my parents' wedding in 1946. Bela was known affectionately in my grandma Minnie's Farkas family as Bela Bacsi--meaning "Uncle Bela." He was, in fact, my grandma Minnie's uncle because he had originally been married to Zoli, Minnie's aunt.

When I found Bela's name on the 1924 NYC Voter Registration List, first published online by the fabulous folks at Reclaim the Records, I decided to send for all the details. And I'm glad I did!

Requesting Big Apple Voter Registration

The process is simple and straightforward as long as all the required details are at hand. Read more on the Reclaim the Records site, here.

Be aware that this request process is especially smooth if the person was registered to vote in Manhattan, Staten Island, or Queens. However, if the person registered to vote in the Bronx or Brooklyn, the process is more complicated. Luckily for me, Bela and his second wife lived in Manhattan.

To prepare a request, I had to find Bela in the registration list, jot down the borough and also the Assembly District, Election District, and street address. This meant scrolling around in the list, but it only took a few minutes.

I typed a snail-mail letter to the NYC Municipal Archives at 31 Chambers Street, Rm 103, NYC, 10007. I included all the above info plus of course Bela's name, exactly as he appeared in the registration. Then I mailed the letter, with my check for $15 and a self-addressed, stamped envelope for the reply.

Two for the Price of One (Signatures Too)

Today my SASE landed in my mailbox. Happily for me, it included a bonus: Bertha was registered to vote on the line just beneath her husband Bela, living at the same address at that year. So I received two voter registration records for the price of one!

Here's what was on the ledger page:

• Date of registration (for Bela and Bertha, it was Oct 8)
• Party of affiliation (Democrat for both Bela and Bertha)
• Age of voter (Bela was 60, Bertha was 40)
• Marital status (married)
• Number of years in state and in US (11 years for both)
• Number of years in this Election District (11 years for both)
• Country of nativity (Hungary for both)
• Naturalization if not native born (Aug 9, 1921 for Bela -- "HP" meaning "husband's papers" for Bertha) and court where naturalized ("Sup, NY")
• Business connection of voter ("Hisckowitz" for Bela, "Housewife" for Bertha--I'm going to look this company up in the NYC City Directory at the stated address of 350 E. 67th St)
• Two signatures! See excerpt above.

If I hadn't already known Bela's naturalization date and place, this would have been a very exciting find. As it is, the only really new info is business connection and business address. The age difference shown here differs from what I've seen on other records, but I'm not bothered by that at all.

This was admittedly an experiment and I'm pleased with the results. Not every ancestor is worthy of the $15 investment, but I was curious about Bela and got Bertha as a bonus!

Remembering Great Uncle Albert's Life of Service

Sadie Klein and Albert Farkas on their wedding day in 1921

My great uncle Albert (Bertalan) Farkas (1888-1956) believed in giving back.

Born in Nagy Bereg, Hungary, as the second-oldest son of Moritz Farkas and Leni Kunstler Farkas, Albert arrived at Ellis Island on April 4, 1903, just a month shy of his 15th birthday. Albert was the oldest of four siblings traveling without adults from Bremen to join their parents, who had gone ahead to establish the family in New York City.

Not only a devoted family man, Uncle Albert built a successful business and volunteered his time to help others--locally, nationally, and internationally.

Giving Back in New York City

Among the founders and early leaders of the Ferencz Kossuth Hungarian Literary, Sick and Benevolent Society, a landsmanshaftn aiding Hungarian immigrants in New York City, Albert met his wife Sadie (later Sari) Klein (1901-1982) there. Decades later, when Albert died, the group honored his long years of service with a special meeting dedicated to his memory.

Albert spent his working years in the clothing business. He was a designer and then an entrepreneur, owning a booming coat manufacturing firm. He would regularly give coats and clothing to his nieces, a much-appreciated gesture especially during the Depression years. Often, he and his wife would graciously volunteer to host the Farkas family's Thanksgiving dinner or Passover Seder--a very big undertaking, given the dozens of people (of all ages) who attended!

Giving Back, Nationally and Internationally

In addition, Albert was quite active in U.S. and worldwide Jewish advocacy and aid groups. He served as a delegate to the American Jewish Congress convention in Washington, D.C. in the fall of 1937. There, he learned that the plight of European Jews was far worse than generally known at the time. Thanks to the family tree minutes of December, 1937, I know he talked with passion about the worsening world situation to keep his sisters and brothers fully informed.

During 1938, Albert served as Vice-President of the American Jewish Congress and was on the ballot to become a National Delegate of that group (according to family tree minutes of June, 1938).


Giving Back to His Industry

Albert was also a long-time leader of the American Cloak & Suit Manufacturers Association. He was President and, later, an executive board member, helping others in the industry with advice and guidance based on his years of experience.

When my great uncle Albert Farkas died on June 28, 1956, the trade association paid for a memorial notice in the newspaper of record (see above). Albert is buried in the Kossuth Society's plot at Mount Hebron Cemetery in New York.
--
So many family members have spoken with great affection and great respect for great uncle Albert Farkas. This is my tribute to his life of dedication and service.

The Farkas Family Tree's Grave Decisions

Threshold of Kossuth Association plot in Mount Hebron Cemetery, Queens, NY

My mother's Farkas Family Tree believed in planning ahead for final resting places. The tree was founded in 1933 in New York City by all the adult children of my maternal great-grandparents, Moritz Farkas and Leni Kunstler Farkas.

Kossuth Association Buys Plots in Mount Hebron Cemetery

Gates of Kossuth plot in Mt. Hebron Cemetery

Even before the tree association was formed, many Farkas relatives had purchased plots in Mount Hebron Cemetery, Queens, New York, through the Kossuth Ferencz Hungarian Literary, Sick & Benevolent Association.

Alex Farkas (oldest son of Moritz and Leni) helped to found the Kossuth Association in 1904. When Mount Hebron began as a cemetery in 1909, many members of the Kossuth Association bought grave sites and paid for special pillars, threshold, and gates to distinguish the association's plot (see photos at top and at right).

Alex and most of his siblings were eventually buried in the Kossuth plot. Among the first to be buried there were both my great-grandparents (Moritz in 1936, Leni in 1938).

As the younger Farkas Family Tree members grew older, however, they faced their own grave decisions.

New Farkas Generation Buys Plots in New Montefiore Cemetery

In 1937, the family tree formed a committee to choose another cemetery in the New York metropolitan area. Nearly all the tree's members lived in the five boroughs of New York City, on Long Island, or in Westchester, and they wanted a cemetery within driving distance or accessible by train. They decided on New Montefiore Cemetery, which began operating in 1928 and had plenty of plots available.

Quoting from the minutes of the family tree meeting on October 2, 1937: 

"The Cemetery headed by Alex Farkas bought six plots in the name of the Tree in the New Montefiore Cemetery - Block 2, 265 to 270 inclusive. Five of these were subscribed for by individual members and the sixth is the exclusive property of the Tree. A motion made by Albert Farkas and seconded was to the effect that full payment be made immediately for the Farkas Family Tree plot amounting to $165..."

On September 12, 1938, when the subject of annual member dues came up during a tree meeting, one member recommended reducing dues because the money was used mainly to pay for the cemetery plot and to buy small gifts for family occasions (weddings, births, etc.). At the time, each member paid $5 per year. The proposal was to cut dues to $3 per year (remember, this was still in the depths of the Depression.)

Great uncle Albert Farkas objected, reminding the tree "that the cemetery expenses were not yet completed" and urging that dues be kept constant. The motion to reduce dues was defeated and members continued to pay $5 per year.

Thanks to the careful planning of the Farkas Family Tree, many of my beloved relatives were buried in New Montefiore years after the plots were first purchased.

Let me again thank Amy Johnson Crow for her #52Ancestors prompts, including this week's "cemetery" prompt.

Farkas Family Tree Says: Go Fish!

My mother's Farkas Family Tree loved planning outings for the whole family.

I know this because I am lucky enough to have 30+ years of monthly minutes from their meetings. Also, even though I was just a tyke, I have memories of going on a number of these outings years after the traditions began.

Something's Fishy: A New Tradition

Formed in 1933 to keep the bonds strong between the eleven adult children (and many grandchildren) of Moritz Farkas and Leni Kunstler Farkas, the Farkas Family Tree began a new tradition in 1938 when one of the members suggested that a fishing trip be held on June 19th.

Faster than you can say flounder, the boat was chartered, to carry 50 passengers for a grand total of $50. The next set of minutes, on September 12, 1938, reported: "Our June fishing trip had been a huge success and all who attended requested an encore."

Encore Fishing Trips

Building on the momentum from the first year, the Family Tree decided to hold a second fishing trip on June 4, 1939. The minutes from one week later say it was "a wet success. A number of people disappointed us, owing to weather and illnesses. We were indebted for $50. The expenses came to $68, and collections amounted to $56." The tree association made up the difference.

During World War II, gas shortages and tire shortages forced the tree to suspend many of its annual outings, not just the fishing trip but also some summer picnics and/or summer beach trips.

The Entertainment Committee, charged with arranging fishing trips, reported in May, 1946, that no fishing was possible that year because boats were not available. A summer picnic was arranged, however.

Skipping ahead to 1949, the minutes of June 5th report "on a most successful fishing trip...Many fish and many kinds of fish were caught" not to mention all the eating and drinking on the boat. Dozens of fish were fried at a member's house that evening and "those who didn't realize how tired they were played gin [rummy] until midnight." The minutes even note who caught the first fish, who caught the most fish, who caught the largest fish, and who caught the first flounder.

Remember the Flounder

Sis and I went on several family fishing trips during the late 1950s and early 1960s. My father (Harold Burk) was brought up in the heart of New York City, and he loved these outings for the opportunity to feel the wind on the water. He was delighted to introduce his little girls to fishing, using a hook knotted onto a nylon line.

I remember catching a flounder using one of these hand-held fishing lines and being so excited I could hardly wait for Dad to pull it up for me. Sis actually caught more fish than I did, but we both had a fun time. Being a picky eater, I wouldn't even taste the flounder we caught when they were cooked up later. Some kids just don't know what's good!

As the tree meetings became fewer and farther between, so did the fishing trips. The last report of a fishing trip was in the Historian's Report of 1964, which was "successful both in the number of people who attended and the number of fish so skillfully wrested from the deep." That was the end of a popular tradition.