Their mother, my Grandma Minnie, dressed them alike when they were young. Although no names are on this late 1920s photo, I believe Mom is on the left and Auntie Dorothy is on the right.
As shown below in the 1919 index of births in Bronx, New York, Dorothy's birth cert is 14223, and Daisy's birth cert is 14224, confirming that Mom was the younger twin.
Remembering Daisy and Dorothy's birth 105 years ago today. Always in our hearts.
Walasyk to Wallace
Before I began writing this post, I reviewed my research and looked for anything new. It wasn't so long ago that I found out Lee had Americanized her surname from Walasyk to Wallace.
Now I've uncovered a 1951 newspaper legal notice mentioning Lee and her brothers and their children. New news about Lee's original surname!
Walaszczyk to Walasyk to Wallace
Published in the Record newspaper of Hackensack, New Jersey, the notice announces that the undersigned will apply for a judgement authorizing them to "assume other names."
Interestingly, Lee was using the name "Leona Z Wallace" as long ago as 1936, when she applied for a Social Security number. I have a copy of that application. I wonder why the family, together, took legal steps to change to the Wallace name in 1951? (Update: A BlueSky follower suggested it might be due to one or more of the Wallace family members intending to apply for a US passport. That sounds quite likely!)
Anyway, by discovering their original surname was Walaszczyk, I was able to find her and her parents and siblings in the 1915 New Jersey Census and the 1920/30 US Census records. Her father Anthony was a silk weaver, as was her mother Frances. Lee's parents never simplified their surname to Walasyk, but her brothers did, and after their parents passed away, they all ultimately switched to Wallace in 1951.
Happy birthday to Leona Z. Walaszczyk (pronounced VALASHCHICK), who headed the most well-known Thanksgiving parade in the United States, with my Auntie Dorothy at her side.
Growing up in Hungary
Minnie and seven of her siblings were born in Hungary, in an area now known as Berehove, Ukraine. Minnie was sent to school to learn reading, writing, and arithmetic, plus fine needlework.
Her father Moritz supervised vineyard plantings for his wife's family and also leased land for his own crops. Minnie sometimes rode along with him on his rounds of the vineyard--she loved the outdoors. The family wasn't wealthy but they weren't poor either.
At the end of 1900, Moritz's wife Lena sailed to New York City, leaving their eight children with her family. One year later, Minnie and three siblings were put on a ship to rejoin their parents in New York. The last group of four children who waited in Hungary were finally reunited with their family in New York in 1903. Moritz and Lena had three more children born in the Big Apple. The baby of the family was 20 years younger than the oldest.
Where Minnie lived in the big city
In 1910, Minnie lived with her parents and siblings at 645 E. 6th Street on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. According to the 1940 New York City tax photo, which I found using Steve Morse's One-Step search form, it was a large apartment building on a street corner, with stores on the ground floor.
In 1920 and 1930, married to immigrant Theodore Schwartz (1887-1965) and the mother of three children, she lived at 651 Fox Street in the Bronx, NY. It was a smaller apartment building located in a more residential area. Grandpa Teddy owned and operated a small neighborhood dairy store, which helped them get through the Great Depression.
In 1940, Minnie and Teddy and their children lived at 672 Beck Street in the Bronx, a nicer apartment building. All their children had graduated high school and the oldest two were in college and working part-time, their youngest child working as well. The couple stood on their feet helping customers at the dairy store day after day, including weekends.
In 1950, Minnie and Teddy lived at 600 East 178th Street in the Bronx, an apartment building with the main entrance on the side street. Two children were married and had families of their own. By this time, Minnie had heart problems and Teddy had hired an assistant for the store. This man eventually bought them out so the couple could retire after a lifetime of standing on their feet for long hours.
Minnie's life and legacy
Minnie grew up to be a capable, complicated woman who defied her parents in order to marry the man of her choice. In a later era, she herself would have had many more opportunities to use her intelligence, talents, and determination. She was an expert with a sewing machine, and made fabulous Hungarian dishes from scratch, including apple strudel with an impossibly thin pastry crust. Though she lacked a warm and fuzzy way with her grandchildren, she worked extremely hard, made her children's education a high priority, and always put family first.
Grandma Minnie died 60 years ago, in 1964. Saddened and physically weakened, Grandpa Teddy died the year after. May their memories be for a blessing.
Schwartz and Klein from Mateszalka, Hungary
Above, an excerpt from the Find a Grave listing of those buried in Mateszalka Jewish Cemetery in Mateszalka, Hungary. Olga and Valeria both died young, sorry to say, and both were buried in this cemetery. Researching them, I again looked at their sister, Blanka "Blanche" Schwartz (1892-1986), who married Alexander Roth (1893-1949). Alex was a son of my great-grandma Leni Kunstler Farkas's sister. Alex was Leni's nephew, in other words. Alex was my 1c2r.
Back to Blanka, Olga, and Valeria, who were all the daughters of Frida Klein and Frank Schwartz. The kind gentleman who put Olga and Valeria on Find a Grave helpfully included the Hungarian records of their deaths, confirming the names of their parents. You can see those snippets just above the wording "no grave photo" in the image at top.
Bernard Hersch Schwartz had roots in Mateszalka
I looked up the Mateszalka cemetery where Olga and Valeria were buried. A historic note about the cemetery mentions that actor Tony Curtis (original name: Bernard Hersch Schwartz) donated money to help restore the local synagogue, knowing his family originated in this town.
His father was Emanuel "Mano" Schwartz, and his mother was Helen Klein Schwartz. Mano's parents were from the Mateszalka region, according to Mano's passenger manifest from his voyage on the S.S. Mount Clay, arriving in Boston in March, 1921. Mano's naturalization petition in New York City (#102586) also specifies his birthplace as Mateszalka. The petition was signed by two witnesses: his grandfather Victor Schwartz and someone named Albert Klein.
Klein--the maiden name of Tony's mother, and the maiden name of Blanka, Olga, and Valeria's mother. My second cousin L knew Blanka very well, staying in touch in her later years when she was in a Bronx nursing home. He heard firsthand the stories of Blanka being Tony Curtis's cousin. Others in the wider family had heard the same story from their parents or grandparents.
Surely the Mateszalka area had an abundance of Klein and Schwartz residents. But the combination of family stories, shared surnames, and many given names from the Tony Curtis family tree being repeated in the Schwartz and Roth lines of my family tree lend credence to the stories. A circumstantial case for Blanka and her sisters Olga and Valeria being cousins of Tony Curtis but that's my story and I'm sticking to it!
My Freaky Friday wish is to switch places for a single day with a single ancestor: Leni Louise Winkler (1909-1997). Leni (Americanized to Louise after she immigrated here in 1941) was my 1c1r, a dear niece of my maternal grandpa Teddy Schwartz.
The day I would like to be Leni is her wedding day, a Friday, August 2, 1929 in what was then Ungvar, Hungary (now Uzhhorod, Ukraine). Leni was about to turn 20 and she was marrying Jeno Eugene Preisz (1906-1979), their surname later Americanized to Price. Leni's family gathered from far and wide to attend the wedding, including her great uncle Sam Schwartz, an honored guest who came all the way from New York City to serve as a witness. He returned home to New York City on September 4, 1929 (see passenger list from S.S. Homeric above).
As Leni in 1929, I would get to meet not only her parents and siblings and cousins but also her grandmother, Hani Simonowitz Schwartz (1858-1933). This would be a wonderful opportunity to celebrate an especially happy occasion with relatives and friends, people I know today only as names on a family tree.
As Leni in 1929, I wouldn't be aware that in the future, four siblings would be killed in the Holocaust, along with other members of the Schwartz, Simonowitz, and Winkler families. Happily, two of her brothers were survivors who submitted Yad Vashem testimony about relatives who were killed. Sis and I are in touch with a descendant of a Schwartz survivor, a cousin connection we treasure.
As Leni in 1929, I wouldn't yet know that with her husband and young daughter, she would leave Europe during WWII, obtaining passports in Marseilles in January, 1941, and sailing to New York from Lisbon. The three landed in New York City on Friday, April 15, 1941 and went on to build a new life--helping Leni's two brothers when they came to America after the war.
Well, for just one Freaky Friday, I wish I could stand in for Leni as she married on a special Friday in the presence of her loving family and friends. While I'm in Leni's shoes, she would be in mine, having my wonderful Sis show her the family tree and ask for identifications of old family photos.
For example, I'm starting to add cemetery categories, as shown above for my husband's ancestors, Carrie Steiner Traxler and Floyda Steiner McClure. This means that the category of Old Mission Cemetery now appears on the bottom of these ancestors' WikiTree pages, and their names appear in the listing of folks in that particular category.
Old Mission is a historic cemetery and it was important to these ancestors that they were laid to rest in that special place. Now the categorization highlights their final resting place.
Sadly, a number of folks in my maternal grandfather's Schwartz family were killed in the Holocaust. Because survivors submitted testimony to Yad Vashem about these people, their names and lives and deaths won't be forgotten.
I'm categorizing those ancestors on WikiTree, as well, such as those killed in Auschwitz (category explanation shown above). Many thousands of names appear in this category, I'm sorry to say, but I feel this is one way to "never forget" who these people were and what happened to them.
I'm still exploring the full list of categories available to highlight elements of an ancestor's life. More to come!
The tree group was the brainstorm of Jennie Katz Farkas, married to the oldest of the eleven siblings who were the charter members. Despite economic woes, the tree association met at least 10 times a year, usually in the members' homes, which were all in the greater New York City area. (I know all of this history because these ancestors kept monthly meeting notes!)
Tree celebrations and sorrow
For the first anniversary of the tree's founding, in March of 1934, the members held a dinner-dance at the Cecile Restaurant in Manhattan and invited friends and family. An amazing 61 people attended, counting members plus in-laws and friends and neighbors. For the second anniversary, the dinner-dance was at the Hotel Hamilton on West 73d St. in Manhattan. An even more amazing 81 people attended, at a cost of $1.25 per person for dinner plus 50 cents "subscription," in 1935. This was the depth of the Depression, yet the tree turned out in numbers for these special celebrations. The total dinner cost the equivalent of $40 per person today.
For the third anniversary, the Hotel Hamilton was again to be the venue, at $1.25 per person for dinner, plus 25 cents for a "subscription" fee. However, one week before the dinner, Farkas patriarch Moritz died, so the event was postponed indefinitely until after a year's mourning period. No dinner-dance was held in 1937 and when a dinner-dance was planned for 1938, it too was postponed due to the death of the matriarch, Leni. No dinner-dance in 1939, either, as hard times hit the Farkas Family Tree.
Starting 1940 off with a party!
After the sadness of losing the matriarch and patriarch in the last years of the 1930s, plus money being so tight for all, a party was finally planned for on Sunday, January 7, 1940 at the True Sisters meeting rooms on West 85th St., Manhattan.
The United Order of True Sisters was a Jewish women's organization founded in 1846 in New York City, which slowly gained chapters across the country. In 1926, the True Sisters laid the cornerstone of its new building in Manhattan, as described in the headline at top of this post. My family tree held its 1939 Thanksgiving dinner at the True Sisters building in one of its meeting rooms, and then the January party in 1940.
The Family Tree minutes reported: "The 64th meeting of the Farkas Family Tree was held at the True Sisters Building on Jan 7, 1940. It was our coming out party after being 'in' for quite a number of years. Present besides our membership were our friends, in-laws, and youngsters."
Party begins with a pledge
After reciting the Pledge of Allegiance to the American flag that was marched in, the group sang America with piano accompaniment by one of the Farkas children. Then the tree president made a speech about the group's "ideals and achievements."
Next, the tree's historian (my aunt Dorothy, twin sister of my Mom), summarized the previous year's tree activities and family doings. The tree then installed new officers for 1940 and eventually the meeting was adjourned to enjoy refreshments and view home movies of the past year's get-togethers.
Of course no one had any idea that more hard times would be ahead when the US entered World War II. So many of these Farkas folks went into the service (including my aunt Dorothy, the WAC) and those at home did their part to help the Allies win the war. A story for another time.
"Hard times" is the theme for this week's #52Ancestors genealogy prompt from Amy Johnson Crow.
Remembering my Mom and my two grandmothers on Mother's Day weekend:
Grandma Hermina "Minnie" Farkas (1886-1966) - Married Theodore Schwartz in 1911, mother of my Mom
Grandma Henrietta Mahler (1881-1954) - Married Isaac Burk in 1906, mother of my Dad
Mom Daisy Schwartz (1919-1981) - Married Harold Burk in 1946. Happy Mother's Day!
My Farkas, Schwartz and Mahler families all came to the Big Apple from Eastern Europe, so I headed over to search the NYC marriage database to try to break through a brick wall in my Schwartz tree.
I never could find the maiden name of my great uncle Samuel Schwartz's second wife. I entered Sam's first and last name, indicated to "match name exactly" because this was how he spelled his name, entered his year of birth, place of birth, and the marriage place as Queens, NY. Then I clicked to search. If no decent results had been returned, I would have unclicked "match name" and tried variations. But no need in this case.
Margaret's maiden name was Lazar, and her first husband was David Simon, who died in 1940. This document shows Margaret's current address, birth place, parents' names, all in her own writing. Same for my great uncle Sam, but nothing new since I already had his details and his signature from other documents--except the license date and wedding date!
Now, thanks to MyHeritage, I'm able to flesh out Margaret's branch of the family tree to document her full name and family relationships for future generations.
Bottom line: New documents become available online all the time...different genealogy websites index differently...never give up!
It's a privilege to chronicle the perseverance and spirit of these immigrant ancestors, who left their home lands to start a new life in a new country. Without them, and those who came before, we wouldn't be here today.
"Immigration" is the genealogy prompt for week 7 of Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors challenge.
Andrews has written a very engaging, informative history of "the extraordinary American servicewomen who helped win World War II," who resumed their civilian lives with a sense of satisfaction but little or no public acknowledgement of their indispensable roles in the military. As the author notes, women in uniform were part of the "Greatest Generation" yet their WWII roles are often overlooked.
Rocky road to women's service
The book's main focus is the sometimes rocky road to establishing US military women's programs, recruiting women with the right skills, and putting them in the right places to support the US war effort. The US Army was the first of the armed forces to create a women's service, going all out to attract the best and most skilled women--which it did, with thousands and thousands applying to enlist. On the other hand, Andrews shows how the leaders of the US Marines were much less enthusiastic about a women's program, although they ultimately went along with the idea.
The story behind each service's approach to women in the military is fascinating. The author has a knack for putting a lot into a few words and holding the reader's interest throughout. And she does a superb job of sketching historical and military context without slowing down the story, which gets pretty lively.
Quotes add personality
The personal memories and experiences of female veterans, based on author interviews, bring to life the social and bureaucratic obstacles they had to overcome in order to serve their country. From the historical record and from their own words quoted in the book, it's clear that women in uniform strove to do their very best at any and every assignment, from pilots and stenographers and mail sorters to translators and chemists and map-makers. Andrews deftly captures the essence of their experiences, both the ups and the downs, whether the women served stateside or overseas.
My aunt, WAC Sgt. Dorothy Schwartz, was an expert stenographer, one of the top in her unit. I can see echoes and confirmations of her experiences in Valiant Women. In the book, a WAVE thinks back to her wartime assignment, creating oceanographic maps for the US military. "I confess I was terrified at all of the complications," she admits, knowing how essential the charts were to Allied commanders. My aunt felt similarly as she transcribed orders for bomber crews: many lives were at stake, so her transcriptions had to be accurate as well as speedy. It was a huge responsibility, and what she did made a difference every day.
Honoring Capt. Stratton
The final section in Valiant Women examines how women's WWII service led the way for women to become part of the regular armed forces and military reserves in the post-war era. Andrews ends with the commissioning of the US Coast Guard Cutter named for a veteran, Captain Dorothy Stratton, who headed women's Coast Guard services in WWII. Capt. Stratton gave the program its name, SPARS, drawing on the Coast Guard's slogan, "Semper Paratus--Always Ready."
Highly recommended: Valiant Women by Lena Andrews.
This snapshot was taken during their first year...and unlike most photos, the twins were carefully identified (much later, not at the time). Mom, who was 5 minutes younger than her twin, is at left.
Checking the New York Times archives, I learned that December 4, 1919 was clear and cold, with temperatures below freezing all through the day. Truly a winter day!
Remembering Daisy and Dorothy with much love, on this 104th anniversary of their birth.
That's the lede, and I didn't bury it. In fact, I put it front and center on the cover of my colorful family history photo book, to get readers intrigued by previewing the lives of these ancestors. This is my approach, which fits with my goal of making family history accessible and maybe even fascinating for younger audiences. Your approach might be different, of course, depending on your audience and your goals.
Inside the book, I wrote that my grandparents were married for 52 years, working side by side for much of that time in Teddy's Dairy grocery store in the Bronx, New York. I put in pictures of big family get-togethers (captioned) and mentioned their charitable works. Also, I traced their parents' histories, from birthplaces to marriage to burial places, and summarized what happened to their siblings. Finally, I talked just a bit about their descendants (my readers) and included some contemporary photos. My readers will, I hope, open the book in the decades to come and smile at what will by then be quote old family photos unquote ;)
No matter how you tell your family's story, I think it helps to cater to the interests and preferences of your audience--today and tomorrow.
This year I've been making a series of professional photo books as bite-sized family history projects, to be read, spark questions/conversations, and then saved for the future. Above, three from my family...two more are in the works for hubby's family.
Each of my photo books contains 20 pages, plus a glossy front and back cover. The front cover introduces the ancestors and how they are related to our family, plus a sentence or two to intrigue my readers. The covers are colorful and inviting to suggest a lively story inside.
This is just my approach--yours may be different, depending on your goals and your audience. My goal is to share family history in a conversational way, with affection and an insider's perspective so descendants get to know the people and understand a bit about family dynamics back in the day.
The interior can be expanded to many more pages but my readers (in the next generation and hopefully generations after that) don't need or want every last detail. If they want, they can take a look at my online trees to get every fact and review every document.
"Black and white is boring" according to my audience, so every page pops with color, whether it's colorful text, a bright frame surrounding a photo or two-tone hearts or other embellishments.
Curated content, illustrations and info
I curate the interior content to include basic info, life highlights, family relationships, and interesting stories, liberally illustrated with photos, maps, and snippets of genealogy documents (such as passport photos, ancestor signatures, etc). Inside a typical photo book is:
As shown in the last line of the above 1950 US Census excerpt, Lee was born in Poland. By the 1930s, possibly earlier, Lee had Americanized her name to Wallace, and until I saw the 1950 Census I wasn't sure what her surname used to be. In 1950, she was enumerated as a "head of household" despite living in the same very nice home in Hackensack, New Jersey with her two brothers, Charles Walasyk and Edward Walasyk, who never changed their names.* Correction: They changed their names later in life.
Charles, also enumerated as a head, was married with two children in the household, working as a salesman. In addition, their brother Edward, a water engineer, was staying with them in Hackensack. He was married and actually lived elsewhere with his family, but was enumerated with his siblings on this Census day in 1950.
My research shows Edward was not born in Poland but actually in New Jersey, as was Charles, so I'm fairly sure none of the Walasyk/Wallace siblings actually spoke with the enumerator in 1950. Talk about prosperity: The spacious Hackensack home where they all lived in 1950 is now updated and worth a pretty penny.
Back in 1950, Lee was doing quite well, which you wouldn't know from simply reading her enumerated occupation: "public relations, department store."
I've written before that Lee headed up the famous, fabulous Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade for a number of years, including 1950. Around this time, my mother's twin sister Dorothy went to work for Macy's and met Lee. The two hit it off, personally and professionally.
Not only did they work on the parade together, they were hired to assist with the annual Barnum Festival in Bridgeport, Connecticut in 1953. In March of that year, the Bridgeport Telegram reported that Miss Lee Wallace had "built up the Macy parade to the biggest balloon parade in the country." The final sentence of the news item reads: "Accompanying Miss Wallace was Miss Dorothy H. Schwartz, her associate."
My aunt Dorothy Schwartz (1919-2001) soon left the world of parades and publicity to become a high school teacher in the Bronx, driving from New Jersey every work day. I later learned that Lee and Dorothy were savvy with their household finances, being able to afford a brand new car every other year as well as annual summer and winter vacations. Aunt Lee had no trace of an accent, and she never spoke of her past to me, a little girl who appreciated her affection and attention.
This week's #52Ancestors prompt from Amy Johnson Crow is "prosperity."
My maternal grandparents were immigrants from Hungary who came through Ellis Island as teenagers, years before they met each other.
Theodore "Teddy" Schwartz arrived alone in March of 1901, at age 14, and parlayed his flair for languages into a job as runner for the steamship lines. Hermina "Minnie" Farkas arrived with three siblings in November of 1901, age 15, joining her parents who had earlier come to New York City. She sewed silk ties to earn money for the household while learning English at night classes.
Leaders in the Kossuth Ferencz Association
Minnie, Teddy, and some of their siblings were active in the Kossuth Ferencz Literary, Sick & Benevolent Association, from its founding in 1904 in New York City. My grandparents were still teenagers and had only lived in the Big Apple for a few years at that time, and they barely had two nickels to rub together, yet they jumped right into a new group to help other Hungarian immigrants get a fresh start.
Happily, I have a 1909 souvenir booklet for the Kossuth Association's fifth anniversary, in Hungarian, that describes the group and its accomplishments. I typed a few words into Google Translate for quick translations, but I really wanted more specifics about what the Kossuth Association did for immigrants.
Google Lens helps with translation
Yesterday I tried Google Lens on my iPad, which involves photographing the page or a few sentences and then having the app translate what it "reads." I'm not a tech wizard, so for more about the mechanics, please do an online search for articles or videos like this one. Google Lens is compatible with both Apple and Android devices.
At top, a side-by-side comparison of the 1909 financial report in Hungarian (original) and English (via Google Lens). This quick-and-dirty translation is far from perfect, I'm well aware, but it does suggest how the Kossuth Association actually served immigrants.
Services for immigrants
The association had a good deal of money in the bank ($436 in 1909 is worth $14,600 today). It spent the money on renting a ballroom for its big yearend fundraiser, buying a library cabinet and books, badges for its members, and 11 medals to award to officers ("medals" not properly translated by Google Lens, but I checked with Google Translate).
The accounting also shows a small advance payment to a cemetery--part of the association's affordable burial services for members. Later, the group purchased a large plot at Mt. Hebron Cemetery in Queens, New York, where nearly 600 members and their families are buried (including my immigrant grandparents).
What this financial accounting doesn't show is that the association had a long-time physician, Dr. B. Hohenberg, to help members. So as the full association name indicates, it provided literary services (books), medical aid (a physician's care), burial services plus even more by partnering with other agencies and service groups in the area.
Over the years, my Grandpa Teddy served multiple terms as Kossuth's treasurer. My Grandma Minnie's brothers Alex and Albert served multiple terms as president and in other official positions. Both Alex and Albert met their wives through Kossuth activities. Alex and his wife Jennie were movers and shakers on the cemetery committee. Of course I've described their dedication to volunteerism in my most recent family history photo book, about my Farkas and Schwartz ancestors. This is one way I'm keeping family history alive for future generations.
What a jolt to find a news item about an armed robbery spree on the night of December 16, 1937. The first store robbed was owned by my grandpa, Theodore Schwartz (1887-1965). Here's what the reporter wrote:
Band Robs 3 Stores; three armed men get $300 in series of Bronx raids
Three armed men within an hour and a half held up three storekeepers in the Bronx last night and escaped with $300. About 9:30 o'clock they entered the grocery store of Theodore Schwartz at 679 Fox Street, hit him on the head with a pistol butt when he resisted, and took $50. Half an hour later, they went into the grocery store of Louise Lepperman at 422 Jackson Avenue and hit him with a pistol, but left quickly when his wife screamed from a back room. In another half an hour, they forced Leonard Gaglio and his brother, Milton, liquor dealers at 1012 Morris Park Avenue, into a back room and took $250.
Yikes, this was during the Depression when money as scarce and store owners sweated over every penny. The $50 stolen from Grandpa Teddy 86 years ago would be worth about $1,000 in 2023. Poor Grandpa had to go home and give Grandma the terrible news--it must have been an awful scene. Let me add that in 1937, the Bronx was not a high-crime area, but shopkeepers who stayed open late were a tempting target for sure.
Grandpa Teddy and Grandma Minnie (Hermina Farkas Schwartz, 1888-1964) owned and operated a small dairy store for about 40 years, changing locations a couple of times and finally selling and retiring in 1955. No news coverage of all the years of routine drudgery, opening the store early and closing it late six or seven days a week, standing on their feet for hours, trying to cover all the bills.
Using the wonderful photo enhancement tools at MyHeritage, I brought Grandpa and his store to life in a way that recalls his usual good humor, not the terror of being robbed at gunpoint. Of course I'm telling Grandpa's story of being "in the news" in my latest Farkas/Schwartz family history photo book.
"In the news" is this week's 52 Ancestors genealogy challenge from Amy Johnson Crow.
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.
In hubby's family tree, Thomas Jefferson Isaiah Haskell Wood was born on July 4, 1848 in Plaquemine, Iberville, Louisiana. He was the second of 17 children born to my husband's great-grandparents, Thomas Haskell Wood and Mary Amanda Demarest. Unfortunately, according to the Wood family bible, this young man drowned in 1861, at the age of 12, while the family was living in what is now Huntington, West Virginia.
In my family tree, great uncle Samuel Schwartz was born on July 4, 1883, in Ungvar, Hungary, which is now Uzhhorod, Ukraine. His younger brother, my grandpa Theodore, was the first to leave for America. Sam followed in his footsteps three years later, in 1904. While researching his life, I was surprised that Sam returned home to Hungary 25 years after he left, to attend the wedding of his niece, Leni Winkler, who married Jeno "Eugene" Preisz (Price). Happy to know that Sam saw their family in person, since grandpa was never able to return to Hungary.
Happy Independence Day 2023!
