Sold in Teddy's Dairy Store: Butter, Eggs and -- Beer?!

On the anniversary of my paternal Grandpa Teddy's death in May, 1965, I've been redoing my newspaper research and learned something new, thanks to additional newspapers now in databases and fully searchable.

Background: Theodore "Teddy" Schwartz was born in Ungvar, Hungary on May 21, 1887. He came to New York City in March of 1901, married my Grandma Hermina "Minnie" Farkas in 1911. The portrait above shows him around the time of his marriage. Just as the US was entering World War I, Teddy started up a dairy store in the South Bronx, New York. With a small son and expecting more children in the future, this family-owned store would provide more stable income than his previous occupation as insurance and steamship agent.

Teddy's Dairy was a small, one-store operation, always in the Bronx, selling basics like butter, eggs, and pantry items. Also soda pop, candy, pickles, and assorted household supplies. He sold his store once or twice and opened in a new location each time, moving further north toward the more "suburban" areas of the Bronx.  

In 1933, as Prohibition was just about coming to a close, Grandpa Teddy received a retail license to sell beer and wine in his dairy store at 679 Fox Street in the South Bronx. How do I know? I found the public notice of his license published in the New York Evening Journal newspaper, page 19, on July 19, 1933. Prohibition wasn't quite over but apparently stores and restaurants could sell some alcoholic beverages with the proper permits.

Grandpa later sold that store and opened another at 640 East 180th Street in the Bronx, further uptown from the earlier store. In July of 1948, he was issued a permit to sell beer at retail, not to be consumed on the premises. This public notice was published in the New York Post Home News, considered the "hometown newspaper" of the Bronx. 

Since Teddy's Dairy was open all day, and six days a week, I think selling beer was a good way to bring in customers later in the day and into the evening. Sometimes Teddy didn't close the shop until well after dinner (I know from reading the family tree minutes) but those beer sales would have been profitable.

Thinking of Grandpa Teddy Schwartz with great affection. And grateful for the newspapers newly added to databases!

Wartime Letters Going to a New Home, Part 1

Early this year, I wrote about wanting to donate a series of letters written to my grandparents and my mother by a family in England. 

The correspondence began when a widow walking her dog met my aunt Dorothy, a WAC serving in England during World War II. They struck up a conversation and this lovely widow began writing to Dorothy's parents (my grandparents) and to Dorothy's twin sister (my Mom). 

Keep or find a new home outside the family?

Because the letters have no particular ancestral significance, I saw an opportunity to curate my holdings by finding the letters a safe new home outside the family. Sis agreed with my plan to let the letters go. Always check with your family first!

Here's the process I followed (and you might follow) for finding a good new home for items that aren't absolutely vital to the family's history. Part 1 of 2.

Process for finding artifacts a new home

With my sister's agreement, I attempted to find any living descendants of the letter writers by looking at online family trees. My goal was to tell them the story of the correspondence, express my family's appreciation for their ancestors' kindness, and offer them the letters. (Note: there's more to this story in Part 2, no help needed now!)

I had no response from the owners of two online family trees with that family. Next, I found a more distant cousin with an online tree and contacted him. After months of trying to reach out to closer cousins, he got no response either.

We agreed it was best if these wartime letters go to an institution, to be preserved for the future. And we both had the same thought about an appropriate repository.

Match the artifact to the repository

To find the right repository, I first classified the letters: 

• World War II period descriptions of the home front in England
• Original letters and cards, including envelopes with stamps and postmarks
• Written in England on thin wartime stationery
• Mailed to individuals in America
• Evidence of examination by wartime censors (see image above)
• Written after meeting my aunt, a WAC serving in England
• Ongoing contact from 1943-1945

The perfect place for these letters, we believed, was the Imperial War Museum in England. It is dedicated to documenting the "human experience of war and conflict and the impact it has had on people’s lives." The letters from England were a contemporary window into the everyday life of a family close to military bases where UK and US servicepeople were training or stationed in World War II. 

The correspondence revealed how this family coped with wartime shortages, detailed who was joining the military, who was at school, and how they felt about the war. These folks opened their home to my aunt the WAC and their hearts to my aunt's family.

What will the repository accept?

I checked the Imperial War Museum's guidelines about offering to donate an item. After noting their collecting priorities, I wrote an email to explain the letters and their significance in light of the museum's mission. I provided a bit of background about the letters being provoked by a meeting with my aunt the WAC, serving alongside the 9th Air Force in England (and later France and Belgium). All institutions want to know provenance, so this was part of my explanation.

I had already scanned all the letters and envelopes, and had ready a summary of the dates and who's who of the writers and the recipients. To support my request to donate artifacts, I attached a scan of one of the letters--including a tiny head shot of the letter writer! I hoped to attract the attention of the curator with this sample of handwritten letters from the heart. 

Helping shape a proposal

After nearly a month, I was delighted to hear from the curator of the American Air Museum, a part of the Imperial War Museum. She was interested in the family letters and especially intrigued that my aunt was the historian of her WAC detachment connected with US Air Force (the focus of this division of the Imperial War Museum). 

She quickly created an entry for my aunt on their museum website, drawing on a bite-sized bio I wrote for my aunt on Find a Grave. And after checking my aunt's history of the WAC unit, she began adding other WACs to the museum's database.

Next, the curator asked me for additional background to help her write a proposal that the museum's directors would read as they considered whether to accept the letters. I submitted a contextual summary of the letter writers' family situation, the recipients' family situation, my aunt's WAC career. Also I said I had no more letters beyond 1945, so it appeared unlikely that the connection continued after my aunt finally returned from Europe to her parents' Bronx apartment.

One more bit of due diligence

The museum's directors met and determined that before they made a decision about the letters, they wanted one more bit of due diligence: to check for any other descendants in England. They were able to locate two living descendants that I was not aware of--and those descendants quickly agreed that the letters written by their ancestors should most definitely have a new home in the museum.

Thanks to the museum, the descendants and I are now in touch with each other. We've shared more about the later lives of the correspondents. We are all excited that after 80-plus years, our families are connected again through the letters written during World War II.

To be continued: Did the museum say "yes" to accepting the letters for their collection? What happens next?

More in Part 2, here!

PS: I learned how to donate artifacts by trial and error. If I can do it, so can you! 

Printing the Farkas Family Tree Book

 
Remember that gigantic pdf file I created for my newly-updated Farkas Family Tree book? I wanted to print a master copy for myself and a second copy for my twin sis. 

Unsure of whether the print shop could manipulate a pdf of nearly 700 MB, I included pdfs of Parts 1, 2, and 3 plus the big file when I brought my flash drive to the printer.

They strongly advised against printing one giant book with spiral binding. Instead, they recommended I pick a suitable place to break the book into two parts, and create two separate pdf files. The shop would then create two spiral-bound volumes (Part 1 and Part 2), each with a clear cover and a sturdy backing.

A good place to split the big pdf file, I decided, would be after the end of World War II. Now Part 1 contains minutes and reports from 1933 to 1945, and Part 2 runs from 1946 to 1964. This meant redoing the title page for Part 1 to indicate it was 1 of 2.

Also I created a new title page for Part 2, as shown at top. For an illustration, I chose a photograph of the Ellis Island Memorial Wall inscription for my maternal grandparents. Grandma Hermina was a charter member of the Farkas Family Tree and her husband, Grandpa Theodore, was one of the early officers. This is a way to honor them as big movers and shakers within the family tree association. Grandpa Theodore carefully checked over the finances and insisted on receipts for expenditures!

Note: Only men were allowed to serve as President or Vice-President or Treasurer, while women were allowed to serve only as Secretary. This was codified in the family tree constitution 😆 

The result: two digitally-printed, spiral bound books, Parts 1 and 2, a total of 300 sheets/600 pages, with a clear cover and a heavy back cover. One for me, one for Sis. Easy to browse, very legible pages, and easy to pass down to next generation.

Lessons learned

• Ask the expert (print shop people).
• Consider what makes sense for your project (I split the file so Part 2 begins at the start of a new year, after the war was over)
• Communicate clearly (label part 1 and part 2 clearly)
• Use every opportunity to add some tidbit if room allows (my photo of the Ellis Island plaque)
• Consider this a worthwhile investment in perpetuating family history for years to come.

Why Edna Wrote Teddy and Minnie, 1943

My aunt Dorothy Schwartz (1919-2001) was in the Women's Army Corps during World War II. She served in the WAC detachment of the US 9th Air Force in England, France, and Belgium from spring, 1943 until summer, 1945. 

It was the first time New York City-born Dorothy had been overseas. The pressure of wartime duties also weighed on her, I know from letters home. But my aunt was dedicated and determined to serve. 

How Dorothy met Edna

In the summer of 1943, walking in the English countryside with two WAC buddies, Dorothy came upon Mrs. Edna Griffiths walking her dog. Edna, a friendly widow, struck up a conversation. 

She asked Dorothy and her companions to join her and have a drink at Edna's father's home. Later, Edna asked permission to write Dorothy's parents, my grandparents Theodore "Teddy" Schwartz and Hermina "Minnie" Farkas Schwartz. 

Edna's letter to Dorothy's parents

Edna, a kind and thoughtful mother of five, realized how Dorothy's parents must worry about her--and decided to write a note of reassurance. In part, Edna's letter to my grandparents read:

I have had the very great pleasure of meeting your daughter Dorothy and I thought I would like to write and tell you how we enjoyed seeing her. Ours was the first English home she had been to and that makes me very thrilled.

I was taking my little Scottie dog for a walk and met Dorothy and her two friends. I was so anxious to meet them and we finished the evening at my father's home. I really think they enjoyed themselves and they were most interested in all we had to tell them. Since that evening we have met so many of your country women. How we do admire them! We all "fell" for them...

I am sure you all miss Dorothy but she will be happy with the English people, we're to make them feel at home but of course we are not so easy to know, that's what I think. I think we are all beginning to feel the strain of this terrible war... 

 I hope if Dorothy is ever short of a house during her leaves I hope she will come to us. My home is always hers while she is in England. She is really  a beautiful girl and I am sure you are both proud of her.

My best wishes to you both and may we soon see the end of this awful war. Yours very sincerely, Edna S. Griffiths

What happened next

I only have letters from Edna to my family, not letters from my family to Edna. But reading those letters, I can see that the correspondence went on for about two years. 

When Dorothy was moved to France and Belgium, she continued to write Edna and send gifts, such as silk stockings that were just about unavailable in wartime England. 

My grandparents were busy working in the small dairy store they owned in the Bronx, and so my mother Daisy--Dorothy's twin sister--quickly took over the correspondence with Edna. 

Edna's letters reveal thoughts and feelings about where she lived, coping as a widow, pride in her children, and hope as her country joined with the Allies and battled the Axis powers. The letters also show real interest in Dorothy and Daisy and family, and Edna's wish to visit New York City after the war. 

After consulting with a distant cousin of Edna's family, I am offering these handwritten letters to a museum in England. I want to preserve the letters for the sake of future generations and researchers interested in the inner thoughts of those on the British home front during World War II.

Mind the Gap: Alex and Blanche Married Far from Family

I've wondered about the marriage of my 1c2r Alexander Roth (1893-1949), related to me via my great-grandmother's Kunstler family. Alex was a son of Sali Kunstler Roth and Bela Bernard Roth, Blanche was a daughter of Frank Schwartz and Freida Klein Schwartz.

Both had immigrated from Hungary with their parents, settling in New York City in the early 1900s. 

Mind the gap

Alex was enumerated as living with his parents on East 19th Street in New York City until the 1920 US Census. Then a gap of 11 years. The next record I found was his name in a Boston city directory from 1931, married to Blanche Schwartz (1892?-1986). 

Blanche was enumerated with her parents in Jewish East Harlem, New York City in the 1915 New York State Census. Then a gap of 16 years. The next record I could find showed her as the wife of Alex in that Boston directory of 1931. 

Marriage in "the gap"

Clearly, Alex and Blanche married during the gap years where I couldn't seem to find any documentation of their whereabouts.

Knowing that different websites use different indexing and search algorithms, I recently redid my research using MyHeritage--and immediately discovered where and when the couple got married during the gap. I followed the link to obtain a scan of the original license/certificate (shown at top), which is housed on FamilySearch but didn't pop up when I searched that site several times. 

Why California?

Why Alex and Blanche married in Los Angeles, 2,800 miles from their parents and siblings, I can't even imagine. The Roth family was heavily into the garment district of New York City, so perhaps Alex was scouting Los Angeles for business opportunities in clothing. That's a guess, only a guess. 

Blanche had experience sewing neckties in the Big Apple. In fact, she may have worked for an uncle who owned a necktie factory in the garment district (my grandma Minnie worked for that same Roth gentleman before she got married). Still, how and why Blanche made the trip to Los Angeles and then married Alex in LA is a total mystery.

I note that Blanche and Alex were married by Rabbi Mayer Winkler, who headed up the Conservative synagogue Congregation Sinai in Los Angeles. Did this factor into their thinking? Nobody knows. I'm just glad I was able to locate their marriage record. 

Thinking of Blanche, who was born on February 3d, and of Alex, her husband for 26 years until his death in 1949.

International Holocaust Remembrance Day

On this day in 1945, Auschwitz was finally liberated. 

On this day in 2026, I want to honor the memory of relatives of my maternal grandfather, Theodore Schwartz (1887-1965) who were, very sadly, killed during the Holocaust. 

Their surnames were Schwartz, Simonowitz, Winkler, Stark, Zeller, Bimbi, Rezenbach, Feldman. 

International Holocaust Remembrance Day is today. Never forget, never forgotten.

A new, free collection of Holocaust records, from the Arolsen Archives, was just added to Ancestry, along with US Holocaust Museum records and USC Shoah Foundation recordes. Search for free here.

How Did Sam Schwartz Meet His Second Wife?

 
On January 12, 1945, my great uncle Samuel Schwartz (1883-1954) married his second wife, Margaret Lazar Simon (1894-1976). Both had been born in Hungary, and both were widowed in 1940, just weeks apart. Sam was the older brother of my maternal grandpa, Theodore Schwartz.

I wondered how Sam and Margaret met each other. My Schwartz family didn't know much about her except they told me when Sam died suddenly, Margaret didn't hand any Schwartz heirlooms or photos over to his family. Nothing at all, according to Sam's two grandchildren, who were very disappointed.

By looking at the address where each was enumerated in the 1940 US Census, I can clearly see that Margaret and Sam were neighbors in Queens, New York. They lived in apartment buildings literally right around the corner from each other. Map above shows a two minute walk from one building to the other.

Margaret's apartment building was a six-story brick structure seen in the New York City tax photos here. Sam's apartment building can be seen in same database here.

So I imagine that Sam met Margaret in the neighborhood, or perhaps in a local store, etc. Later they moved to what was called a "private house" in New York-ese: not an apartment but a one- or two-family home. 

Thinking of Sam and Margaret on this anniversary of their marriage in 1945. 

Background on The Bronx, Where My Grandparents Settled

Even though I was born in the Bronx and own several books about the history of the Bronx, I'm always interested in more background about this part of New York City. 

This week, I took a look at Gotham: A History of New York City from 1898-1918, by Mike Wallace. The New York Times reviewed the book here. It is a massive tome, nearly 1,200 pages long, and filled with great context about the fast-moving expansion and profound changes in the Big Apple during an important period of development. After reading a chapter or two, I realized I would get more out of checking the index for my specific area of interest: The Bronx.

Not too much of Bronx history actually turns up in Wallace's book, but the bit of material I did find was enough to flesh out more family history context. 

Twenty years of head-spinning change

On the very first day of 1898, Manhattan and Brooklyn (already the country's first and fourth-largest cities) were legally consolidated with Queens, Staten Island, and the Bronx to form the modern New York City we know today. 

Soon the construction of multiple elevated and underground subway systems would put the heart of the city within affordable and convenient reach of the "outer boroughs" (meaning everything other than Manhattan). Combined with technological and electoral changes, not to mention societal changes and historic events both local and global, the period of 1898-1918 made New York City into a formidable business, employment, housing, and political power. 

Immigrants move out of the Lower East Side

This was the booming metropolis where Ellis Island immigrants entered the United States. And these were the years when my immigrant maternal grandparents (Hermina Farkas and Theodore Schwartz) met, married, began a family, and moved out of lower Manhattan to settle in the Bronx, less than an hour's ride by subway from the business districts in midtown and downtown Manhattan. 

No car was needed in those days of cheap mass transit (my Schwartz grandparents never had one, nor did my parents). But if residents had a car, they could enjoy the view on rolling, beautiful parkways as well as driving down the elegant Grand Concourse.

As the book points out, a tremendous housing boom (of affordable apartment buildings in particular) helped attract tens of thousands of residents to the Bronx. My Schwartz grandparents first rented an apartment in a big building on Brown Place, then moved to an apartment on Fox Street, all at the Southern end of the Bronx. 

The extremely rapid growth required more infrastructure, year after year. Bronx groups lobbied for--and ultimately achieved--county status, which came with additional resources. In addition to continued residential and business development, the Bronx as a county enjoyed "home rule" of a sort.

From bucolic to built up

My Dad (Harold Burk, 1909-1978) used to tell stories of his family planning a daylong picnic outing from Manhattan to the Bronx, up to World War I at least. Dad and his immigrant parents, two sisters, and younger brother would escape the summer heat and crowds by boarding a bus or subway to ride to the upper tip of Manhattan, then getting on a horse-drawn wagon to spend a few hours in a green field somewhere in the bucolic Bronx. 

But after World War I, I suspect the Burk family cooled off in one of the big planned Bronx parks, quiet oases of grass and trees. In fact, my paternal grandparents (Isaac Burk and Henrietta Mahler Burk) moved to the Bronx by 1930, settling in an apartment building close to a big park. When grown, three of their four children lived in Bronx apartments (one defected to an apartment in Queens).

Thus, my Schwartz and Burk ancestors were part of the major population shift that quickly pushed the Bronx over one million residents and made it into an "instant city," to borrow a phrase from author Mike Wallace.

Greater Gotham added a smidge of color and context to my knowledge of my ancestors. This is my post for Amy Johnson Crow's week 2 prompt, "A Record That Adds Color," from her 2026 edition of 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.

Entering My 28th Year of Genealogy

In 2026, I'm entering my 28th year as family historian and genealogy enthusiast. 

The genealogy bug first bit me in 1998, when the family historian of my mother's generation asked me a simple question about my father's father. Um, I barely knew Grandpa Isaac Burk's name, certainly not when and where he was born or died. But I became determined to find out and what an adventure that was.

Since then, I've had a wonderful time teaming up with my cousins around the world to learn more about my mother's side of the tree (Farkas, Kunstler, and Schwartz families), as well as my father's side of the tree (Burk, Jacobs, and Mahler families).

It's not a secret that I truly 💘 in-laws. This year I created a colorful booklet about the Pietroniro family, in-laws on my hubby's side of the tree. Then younger relatives chimed in with their fond memories and I reprinted the booklet to include what they had to say, in detail.

I continue to improve and/or create memorials on FindaGrave, WikiTree, Fold3, and the usual big genealogy sites. This is cousin bait and a good way to share what I know with relatives and other researchers. I also enjoy participating in some of Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors challenges, as well as WikiTree Connect-a-Thons and genealogy chats on Bluesky. 

During 2025, I made three in-person genealogy presentations and many more virtual presentations, including a free Virtual Genealogy Association talk about cousin bait. Plus, my sis and I presented two programs about identical and fraternal twins (something we know a lot about, being the twin daughters of a twin).

In addition, this year I had professional shadowboxes made for Dad's World War II memorabilia and Mom's childhood jewelry (with her twin sister's as well). These archival-quality frames will keep the artifacts and the stories safe for the future.

Looking ahead, I plan to move old original photos from archival boxes to archival albums. Just about everything has been digitized but now I want to better organize the loose photos for the sake of future generations. I stalled out on this project a couple of years ago, so 2026 will be my year of archival albums. 

Now I have another bite-sized family history photo book in mind for 2026, about my parents and my siblings. This will be a great opportunity to tell my own story in context! 😊

Finally, I want to do something with the letters written from folks in England who met my aunt Dorothy, the WAC, when she was posted there during World War II. These kind people took the time to write Dorothy's parents. I've been in touch with a gentleman who is distantly related to the letter-writers, and he is tracing a direct descendant. If that doesn't work out, I will donate the letters to a museum or historical society in 2026.

Wishing you all the best in this new year.

Happy Birthday to Mom and Auntie

On December 4, 1919, my grandmother and grandfather were quite surprised by the arrival of twin daughters, my Auntie Dorothy and my Mom, Daisy. 

Here's an old photo of Dorothy Schwartz, 1919-2001 and Daisy Schwartz Burk, 1919-1981. 

They look very cute holding hands, and of course their proud mother dressed them identically.

Very likely this photo was taken a couple of years earlier than 1927.

I had some fun with this photo, first colorizing it using MyHeritage's excellent photo enhancement tools. At left is the result. 

I have no reference for whether the colorizing is accurate, but my guess is their hats matched the coats and were either light brown or grey. 

Lilac hats, as colorized, would have been cute too. And oh those clunky shoes.

--

Then I used the iColoring site to turn the black-and-white original photo into a pencil sketch, for free. The result is at bottom of this post. I especially like this version for an ancestor coloring book! In fact, I already sent the page to my niece for her two little ones to color.

Thinking of Mom and Auntie with much love on this 106th anniversary of their birth in the Bronx, New York.

PS: Dorothy was 5 minutes older than Daisy 😉

More Background on WAC Experiences in World War II

Recently, I was contacted by a researcher interested in my blog post about a magazine article describing the tense World War II trans-Atlantic crossing of the RMS Aquitania in 1943. 

My Auntie Dorothy Schwartz (1919-2001) was among the 650 members of the Womens Army Corps who sailed on the Aquitania on July 8, 1943. Also on board were many thousands of soldiers and support personnel, sailing from New York to Scotland, amid heightened U-Boat activity and worries of German attack. I happily shared my copy of the article with this researcher.

Seventy years after that voyage, I was very fortunate to be introduced to my aunt's lifelong friend Penelope, who met Dorothy on that voyage. They bonded over their anxiety about enduring days at sea without a military escort. Penelope also told me stories of the antics of the male troops trying to attract the attention of the WACs, in defiance of official edicts against socializing. 

The researcher who contacted me was kind enough to share a link to a book that provided broader background about the Aquitania and other Cunard ships that carried troops to war. The book was written by an officer in the Royal Australian Navy Volunteer Reserve who served on the RMS Aquitania for that voyage, among other voyages. I had not known about this book and was glad to have the link.

Available for free on Internet Archive, Running the Gauntlet is a well-researched and often personal account of Alister Satchell's experience on the Aquitania during wartime. Shown here is a page from that book, in which he describes the presence of WACs on board in July, 1943 as being "mental diversion" for the servicemen. Well, that was his view as a member of the crew, anyway. 

By the way, "WAC" is not in the index so I had to look for that voyage by following the chronology of the chapters. Always a good idea to look beyond the index and table of contents! 

Satchell also provides lots of historical details to frame the achievement of how the three Cunard ships successfully carried one million men and women to war during the 1940s. He also notes, poignantly, that if even one of those Cunard ships had been sunk while carrying troops, it would instantly have sent some 10,000 mothers into bereavement. 😓

Finally, the author has his say about everyday life in Scotland, England, and big American cities during the war. He had time off to see sights and particularly enjoyed New York City and Washington, D.C. during his travels. Interesting to think about the home front, not just the experiences of service personnel.

Framing the Childhood Jewelry of Mom and Her Twin

This elegant shadow box, in the works for two months, features the childhood jewelry of Mom (Daisy Schwartz Burk, 1919-1981) and her twin sister (Dorothy Helen Schwartz, 1919-2001). The creative design and meticulous archival framing were done by a truly terrific custom frame store in my area. 

All the jewelry items were gently cleaned and then carefully hand-stitched to the ecru linen background in a graceful arrangement. The 1920s photo, printed by Mpix, should look great for a century or longer behind high quality museum glass. The finishing touch: name/date plaques that identify Mom and Auntie and their birth/death years.

On the back is an archival envelope for storing a few photos, letters, and other documents related to these beloved ancestors, including a page of background about the jewelry items. Sis wants to include an old note with Mom's signature, too. Great idea!

Without question, this is an expensive archival solution to keeping special heirloom items safe and accessible. But off-the-shelf shadow boxes are widely available and less expensive if you want to try creating your own display of ancestral heirlooms.

For additional ideas about documenting and preserving ancestral items and other genealogical materials, please see my book, Planning a Future for Your Family's Past.

Celebrating My 17th Blogiversary

On August 25, 2008, I wrote my first genealogy blog post. Seventeen years later, I've written over 1900 posts about researching family trees, preserving genealogy materials, understanding social and historical context, finding cousins and having them find me, and more.

If I had known then what I know now, I would have called this blog something like "Good, Bad, Ugly Genealogy" because my years of research have turned up such a wide range of ancestor backgrounds in my tree and my husband's tree. 

Good: loving/compassionate relatives and in-laws, indigent journey-takers who helped each other survive in a new country, civic and military leaders, hard-working entrepreneurs, ancestors who sought to give their children and grandchildren better education and more opportunity. Bad: a few bootleggers (considered "bad" at the time), a few thieves, some wild kids, some absent parents. Ugly: too many early deaths from causes now preventable, a few questionable criminal activities, family estrangements for reasons that in retrospect seem repairable, a couple of sad suicides, and more. 

With one key exception (because someone still alive might be hurt by something an ancestor did), all of what I've learned is posted on my public family trees and has been relayed to my relatives and those of my hubby. 

I don't want to hide the truth, nor do I want the truth to be lost to future generations. As family historian, I want to be told the truth and I want my relatives and future generations to trust that I will share the truth with them.

From my heart, many thanks to the dear cousins who have connected with me via my blog. It is such a joy to be in touch with the descendants of ancestors and share photos and stories.

Finally, a big tip of the hat to my wonderful readers. Please know how much I really appreciate you all! 

My genealogy research:

My maternal grandparents (both from Hungary, both died in New York City)

    Hermina "Minnie" Farkas (1886-1964) m. Theodore "Teddy" Schwartz (1887-1965)

My paternal grandparents (Mahler from Riga, Burk from Lithuania, both died in NYC)

    Henrietta "Yetta" Mahler (1881-1954) m. Isaac Burk (1881-1943)

Husband's maternal grandparents (both born and died in Ohio)

    Floyda Mabel Steiner (1878-1948) m. Brice Larimer McClure (1878-1970)

Husband's paternal grandparents (Slatter from London/England, Wood from Ohio, both died in Ohio)

    Mary Slatter (1869-1925) m. James Edgar Wood (1871-1939)

Family Business: Teddy's Dairy Store

My grandfather Theodore "Teddy" Schwartz (1887-1965) first opened a small dairy store in the Bronx about 1917. The initial location was in a residential neighborhood, 985 St. John Avenue in the Bronx, near Southern Boulevard. The building no longer stands. 

NOTE: At this time, the Bronx was greener and more "suburban" than it became 60 years later. As the city's subway system expanded, a lot of families moved uptown to the Bronx from Manhattan for more spacious (and affordable) apartments or homes, close to good schools, nice parks, swimming pools, and other amenities. The commute to midtown or downtown Manhattan would take an hour or less.

By the 1930s, Teddy had progressed to a dairy store in a busier section of the Bronx, at 2294 Morris Avenue, close to Eastchester Avenue. His store was convenient for people to stop in on their way home from work or at any time they needed milk, cheese, eggs, and staple items.

In 1937, Teddy had moved his store to 679 Fox Street in the Bronx, not far from Southern Boulevard. He was alone behind the counter at 9:30 on the winter evening of December 16, 1937, when three armed men charged in. The villains hit Teddy with the butt end of a pistol and stole $50, scramming to rob two other stores on the same evening. Grandpa Teddy must have been shook up, to say the least, as well as unhappy about losing that much hard-earned money during the Great Depression.

In 1942, Teddy's store location again changed. This time he set up shop at 640 East 180th Street, an even busier and better neighborhood for retail traffic. As before, the entrance was at street level in one section of an apartment building.

Grandpa Teddy did well with that busier location and in 1955, he sold the store to his assistant, who viewed it as a "gold mine." Well, it was certainly hard work with long hours, if not an actual gold mine. It had taken the combined efforts of his wife, three children, and other relatives to operate Teddy's dairy stores over the years. 

I learned about these store locations from family documents and Bronx city directories. The story about Teddy being robbed came from the New York Times, which published a small item about the three small businesses all hit by armed robbers on one chilly December evening in 1937. 

Thinking of Grandpa's entrepreneurial efforts, as the #52Ancestors prompt for this week is "family business."

Honoring Three Generations of Moms

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

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

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

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.

Remembering Maternal Grandma Minnie and Her Age Fibs

Born in what is now Berehove, Ukraine, my maternal grandma Hermina "Minnie" Farkas (1886-1964) shouldered a lot of family responsibility from the moment she set foot on the S.S. Amsterdam to sail to America. Her parents were already living in a tenement on the Lower East Side of New York City, and Minnie was sent, with an older brother and two much younger siblings, to join them. She celebrated her 15th birthday on the trans-Atlantic voyage in November, 1901, not knowing what her new home would look like but with high hopes for the future.

Minnie in America

In New York, Minnie worked during the day at a tie factory owned by an in-law and went to school at night to learn English. At the end of every week, Minnie and her siblings handed their unopened pay packets to their mother, who doled out carfare to each adult child and kept the rest for household expenses. 

Minnie met her future husband Theodore "Teddy" Schwartz (1887-1965) in a Hungarian deli. Despite resistance from her parents, she married him in October, 1911. From then on, Minnie would not just help Teddy in the store, she would also raise three children AND sew clothing for her siblings, nieces, and nephews AND cook Hungarian specialties for family meals. She worked long and hard for decades. 

Only after Minnie and Teddy sold their small dairy store in the 1950s did they have time and money to take a honeymoon! Minnie had happy moments, but as the years passed, she was disillusioned and disappointed because her life did not play out like the rosy future she had dreamed of when she arrived in 1901 as a hopeful immigrant teenager. The more I research her and talk with older relatives who knew her well, the better I understand why she was not "warm and fuzzy" although she was a responsible grandma who pitched in when needed.

Noting Minnie's age changes

On their marriage certificate (shown at top), both Minnie and Teddy are shown as 24 years old. That might be one of the last times Minnie told the truth about her age.

In the 1920 US Census, she was supposedly 30 (actually she was 34). In the 1925 NY Census, she was supposedly 35 (actually 38). In the 1930 US Census, she was supposedly 40 (actually 44). In the 1940 US Census, she was supposedly 52 (actually 53). In the 1950 US Census, she was shown as 63--correct age!

When Grandma Minnie died of heart problems on March 20, 1964, it was the end of an era for the entire Farkas family. Disheartened, and with his health deteriorating, Grandpa sadly passed away 14 months later.

Remembering Grandma Minnie with affection during Women's History Month.

Happy Twin Birthday to Us

Today is another twin birthday! Above, one of the few early photos showing who's who. I'm captioned M on the left and my dear Sis is captioned I on the right. One of us is two minutes older than the other. Not telling who's the old lady!

We're balancing on the lap of our maternal grandma Hermina Farkas Schwartz, who was the mother of twins--Mom (Daisy Schwartz Burk) and Auntie (Dorothy Helen Schwartz).

Being squirmy, I doubt Sis and I stayed on Grandma's lap for more than a minute, just barely long enough for someone to snap this photo. 

Happy birthday to us!

Mom's First Valentine from Dad

Military veteran Harold Burk (1909-1978) met legal secretary Daisy Schwartz (1919-1981) on a blind date arranged by his aunt Mary and her aunt Rose. Their first two dates were in October of 1945 and on New Year's Eve, he popped the question. She said yes, and they set a wedding date for Thanksgiving weekend of 1946.

Harold and Daisy's first Valentine's Day as an engaged couple was Thursday, February 14, 1946. Since both were working, I doubt they celebrated until the weekend. But Harold sent Daisy this romantic card. I see he even wrote the year below his signature. Alas, no other Valentine's Day cards survive, but this one stayed safe in her box of memories.

Remembering Mom and Dad, with much love, on this Valentine's Day.

Change, Monitor, Hands Off?

James Tanner's excellent blog post earlier this week struck a chord with me. He wrote about the challenges of working with the FamilySearch collaborative family tree, starting with "revolving door ancestors" (one whose info is constantly changing) and "impossible pedigrees" (no sources on an ancestor means questionable parents and descendants).  

I am so, so grateful that FamilySearch has a vast array of robust (and free!) research materials available to help with my research. And its collaborative worldwide tree can give me a head start on ancestors, especially when I know very little about them or they are on a distant branch of my tree. I treat the tree as a great source of clues for me to follow up. 

And I should point out that I maintain a public family tree on Ancestry as well as putting ancestors on MyHeritage. Sources are attached and nobody can make changes (unless authorized by me).

Challenges indeed

Still, my experience with the collaborative tree echoes Tanner's experience. My immigrant maternal grandparents and their siblings had surnames (Farkas, Schwartz) that were common in Hungary, where both were born. Not surprisingly, people who don't know the family well  make mistakes when trying to add to these ancestors' FamilySearch profiles. It's a real challenge to distinguish between two Schwartz men with the same given name or two Farkas women with the same given name, born or died around the same time and in roughly the same place.

Above, part of the FamilySearch profile page for my great uncle Samuel Schwartz (1883-1954). I know a lot about Sam, partly from descendants and partly from careful research. So I know that Sam and his wife, Anna Gelbman Schwartz (1886-1940) had only two children, the ones I circled in purple in the image at top. Neither of these two sons was a twin. My Sam didn't die in 1926; he died in 1954. I have the paperwork to prove it and have visited his grave.

Yes, the photo on "Annie Gelbman Schwartz" is one I uploaded to FamilySearch some time ago. But all those extra children, not my work. Sam's incorrect death date, not my work. 

So many ancestors - so little time

In some cases, I have made changes to the FamilySearch family tree and attached sources and/or explanations. But this is time-consuming and still subject to change by others. Not where I want to spend much of my time.

My plan has been to monitor (click "follow" star ★ on line with ancestor's name) selected ancestors and read the weekly email of changes made to each, if any. Then I can decide whether to change or keep my hands off. For the most part, I'm keeping my hands off any changes, unless the ancestor is particularly dear to my heart and I can quickly and easily fix mistakes with an accessible source.

My plan is to keep adding ancestors to the collaborative WikiTree, where sources are also shown as well as biographical details. Here's the profile page of my great uncle Samuel Schwartz, whose original name was Simon, I know from the passenger manifest showing his arrival at Ellis Island. 

My WikiTree experience

So far, I haven't experienced any "revolving door" ancestor problems on WikiTree. I have encountered a few "impossible pedigree" ancestor profiles when trying to connect relatives to folks already in the WikiTree database but have successfully ironed those out with the people who originally created the profiles. The community on WikiTree is generally friendly and helpful.

In short, I consider adding ancestors to WikiTree to be a valuable use of my time, to honor ancestors and preserve their names and lives for the sake of future generations.