Fixing a Mistaken Assumption by Buying a Record

Albert Winkler was my first cousin, once removed, the nephew of my maternal grandfather, Theodore Schwartz. His mother, Rezi Schwartz Winkler (1881-1944) was my grandpa's oldest sister.

I know Albert's name because he submitted Yad Vashem testimony about the Holocaust killings of his mother and other close relatives. But I knew almost nothing else about him, other than he died in May of 1993. 

Don't assume anything!

Without any proof, I made the assumption that Albert was born in the early 1900s, given that his parents Rezi and Moritz Winkler were married in 1898 and their children began arriving in 1899. At this point, the youngest child I'd found was Lili Winkler, who was born on March 20, 1912. 

Traditional sources didn't help me much in my research for Albert. Then I took a look at summaries of birth records available for purchase from the specialized site Sub-Carpathia Genealogy. 

Doing a record search on this site for "Winkler" birth records from Ungvar (now Uzhhorod, Ukraine), I found TWO Winkler children born in March, 1912. 

Father of both: Mor Winkler. Mother's maiden name of both: Schwartz. One baby Winkler was named Lili, the other baby Winkler was named Bela. A Winkler cousin confirmed that Bela was almost certainly Albert.

Paying to fix my mistake

Of course I quickly clicked to buy the records for Bela Winkler. Within an hour I had proof that he was born on March 20, 1912, the same day as his twin sister, Lili Winkler! (Twins run in the Schwartz family, by the way. Bela and Lili had twin first cousins, my Mom and her twin sister.)

As soon as I plugged in this birth date for Albert Bela Winkler (using Ancestry, MyHeritage, and FamilySearch), I had multiple results.

Never, in a million years, would I have been able to find out so much without paying for this unique record to get Bela's original name and exact birth date. Why? Because Bela had yet another name!

Bela, Albert, Voytech

As shown at the top of this post, Albert entered the United States under the name of Voytech Winkler. Not a name I've ever seen before. It only turned up once I searched for Bela Winkler with the exact birth date and residence city.

This single index card, for Albert's naturalization, gave me a wealth of information. I tracked down the passenger list, his naturalization petition, and his naturalization papers. I learned that Albert married in 1962, and his Hungarian-born wife was naturalized around the same time as Albert. There's more to discover, but already I have many more facts than I had before.

UPDATE: "Voytech" on the passenger list was phonetic...I found "Wojtek Winkler" (born in Uzhhorod) on a list of Vilna Refugees in 1940, "Polish Jewish Refugees" who had been helped out of Krakow. Now to investigate further! 

All because I invested in a unique genealogical record to fix my mistaken assumption. Now my trees show Albert Bela Winkler, 1912-1993.

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"Mistake" is this week's #52Ancestors prompt from Amy Johnson Crow.

So Far Away But Hearts Remain Close

Schwartz Siblings in Ungvar, Hungary

My maternal Grandpa Theodore (Tivador) Schwartz (1887-1965) left many siblings at home in Hungary when he departed for America in March, 1902. His older brother Samuel Schwartz (1883-1954) arrived in America in 1904. Together, they saved money and sent for a younger sister, Mary Schwartz Wirtschafter (1891-1959), who arrived in New York late in 1906.

Despite being thousands of miles apart, the siblings who came to America and the siblings who remained in their home town of Ungvar, Hungary (now Uzhhorod, Ukraine) kept in touch via photos and photo postcards. I inherited images of babies, couples, and siblings in various combinations, sent from Hungary to show that the three American siblings were still in the hearts of those who remained at home.

Portrait from Ungvar, 1915

Above, a photo postcard showing three sisters and possibly a younger brother who remained in Ungvar, the hometown of the Schwartz family. On the reverse is written the date, 1915, and the place name. This was sent to my Grandpa 105 years ago. (To keep it in good condition, I keep it in an acid-free photo sleeve inside an archival box.)

Not long ago, "Sherlock" Ava Cohn posted a photo showing men in the uniforms of the Austro-Hungarian army, circa 1915-16. The uniforms are just like the one worn by the young man in the photo above, confirming that the date on the photo is correct.

Was this young man, possibly my great uncle, sent into combat for the Austro-Hungarian Empire during World War I? Did he survive, if he battled on the front lines? Wish we knew.

The American Siblings in WWI

During World War I, American men had to register with their local draft boards. Since my Grandpa was 30 years old when he registered with the NYC draft board in 1917, married with a young son, he was never called to serve.

Theodore Schwartz's WWI draft card

Great-uncle Sam Schwartz was 35 and married with two young children when he registered with the NYC draft board in 1918. He was never called for military duty.

Mary Schwartz Wirtschafter's husband Edward was 28 and had an infant son when he registered with the NYC draft board in 1917. So he never served, either.

Despite the war, correspondence between siblings in Hungary and siblings in America continued, judging by the dated photos I inherited.

The Aftermath of World War II

My mother believed that her father, my Grandpa, never heard from his family in Hungary again after WWII. It turns out this was NOT the whole story.

One of Grandpa's teenaged nieces survived Auschwitz. Happily, I was able to connect with this part of the family because of Yad Vashem, where she had submitted written testimony and a photo of her mother--a photo I recognized as one of my Grandpa's sisters.

Her emotional video testimony housed at the USC Shoah Foundation includes many harrowing, horrific stories of the Holocaust. She tells of how her mother and the other Schwartz family members were rounded up and murdered. She managed to live through it all.

After the war, she returned to her hometown of Ungvar, married, and brought up two children in what was then the USSR. The family applied for permission to move to Israel several times. Their requests were denied and delayed for years, but ultimately they gained official approval and went to Israel, where they made a new life.

After WWII, this niece again corresponded with her uncle Theodore (my Grandpa) and her aunt Mary, relatives in America she knew only through letters and photos. A few years after I located this cousin in Israel, thanks to her testimony, my Sis visited and met that entire family. We're still in touch today.

Hearts remain close even when family is so far away.

January 27 is International Holocaust Remembrance Day. This year, it is also the 75th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz. Never forget.

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"So far away" is the week 5 prompt for Amy Johnson Crow's #52Ancestors.

Chronicling the Ups AND the Downs in Family History

Hani Simonowitz Schwartz, mother of my grandpa, Tivador "Teddy" Schwartz

After reading this article from Time, about why adults shouldn't shield children from sadness, I decided to write about why family historians owe it to future generations to document both the ups and downs of the past.

Of course we love to trumpet the many success stories (like hubby's great uncles, the famous bandmaster Slatter brothers in Canada). And it's fun to tell younger relatives about the family traditions that we ourselves remember so fondly (like singing the Farkas Family Tree anthem at family meetings when I was a tot).

But every family also has sorrow, struggles, and losses in its history. We may have witnessed grief following a loved one's death or we may have learned about sad or despicable family events from relatives or newspaper articles or other sources.

As genealogists, we owe it to our descendants and relatives to honestly chronicle the lives of our ancestors, both good and bad. It's vital to show younger relatives what formed our family, let them begin to learn about the range of life experiences, and reassure them of the shared strength of our family.

Research shows that children actually benefit from understanding the difficulties faced by ancestors and relatives--and come to believe they can overcome obstacles themselves. Stories are a safe way to begin the learning process, portray ancestors as real people with real lives, and put the past into context for younger folks.

I've written about my husband's great-grandma Mary Shehen Slatter (1837-1889), and her truly heartbreaking tale of being confined in two notorious insane asylums due to a diagnosis of being "melancholy and demented." The cause of her insanity, according to the asylum records, was "misfortune and destitution." She was, it seems, driven insane by poverty and despair. And her children were placed in a workhouse while she was institutionalized.

BUT when I tell their story to my grandchildren, I remind them (with genuine admiration) that Mary's children all went on to live very productive lives. Mary was the mother of the three bandmaster brothers who built brilliant careers and were pillars of their communities, as well as being good family men. If only Mary could have known! Once I found out about Mary's sad life and death (from tuberculosis), I made it my mission to be sure her descendants are aware of the bad and the good in that branch of the family tree.

Another example: In researching my mother's family, no one ever mentioned the many relatives who stayed behind in Hungary when my grandpa Teddy Schwartz (1887-1965) left for America, bringing his brother Sam and sister Mary to New York within a few years after he arrived. All his life, Teddy kept one photo of his mother, Hani Simonowitz Schwartz (see image at top). It must have been painful for him to look back and think about his parents and other relatives he would never see again.

Only through Yad Vashem did I find out that grandpa Teddy actually had many more terrible losses to mourn. I was shocked and dismayed to discover that his other siblings (and their families) were all killed in the Holocaust, his niece being the only survivor. No mention of this tragedy in the family tree minutes, no family stories passed down.

In my mind, I believe the heartache of these losses was why my grandpa Teddy was so insistent that the family observe a moment of silence annually for all the relatives who had passed away in the previous year. That yearly moment of silence--initiated by Teddy and led by him year after year--were recorded regularly in the family tree minutes. Clearly, Teddy believed it was important for the family to at least acknowledge the downs as well as the ups in life.

I agree with my grandpa. Let's make the family aware of the downs, not just the ups. Do we have to publicly disclose everything negative in the tree? No. In fact, there are a couple of stories that I've written for my files only, and mentioned orally but not documented for distribution to the entire family, out of respect for living descendants. (These stories have nothing to do with secrets like "non-parental events," by the way.)

Notice that I'm putting the full stories in my files, to be passed to my heirs after I join my ancestors. The stories won't be lost, and at some point, the historian of the next generation may judge that the time is right to say more to more people.

What do you do with the negative stories you uncover in your tree?

Grandparents Day Challenge: What Surprised Me

Thank you to Dianne Nolin (author of the Beyond the BMD blog) for suggesting the Grandparents Day Challenge for September 10th. My interpretation of this challenge is to write one surprising thing I discovered about each grandparent through genealogical research.

Henrietta Mahler Berk (later Burk) and children listed on 1915 border crossing, Canada to US

• Henrietta Mahler Burk (1881-1954), my paternal grandma, crossed the border to and from Canada several times with her children as her husband sought carpentry work. The last time was in March, 1915, when she shepherded her four young children back to New York City (ranging in age from 8 years old to 10 months). I was surprised by all this travel while the kids (including my father) were so young. This constant travel helps explain why the family was so close that in later years, three of the four adult children lived in the same apartment building as Henrietta after she was widowed. Saying hello to my Mahler cousins!
• Isaac Burk (1882-1943), my paternal grandpa, was a bit of a mystery. It took me a long time to learn where and when he died--and then I was surprised to learn the sad news that he had a fatal heart attack in Washington, D.C., while visiting his sister and brother-in-law. That wasn't the only surprise I uncovered through research. Although I knew Isaac was born in Lithuania, I discovered that he stayed with an aunt and uncle in Manchester, England before continuing his journey to North America. I visited my British cousins last year, and DNA testing confirms the connection--greetings, cousins!
• Hermina Farkas Schwartz (1886-1964) was my maternal grandma. I wasn't aware that her father and then her mother came to America first, leaving Minnie and the other children behind with family in Hungary. Minnie sailed to NYC at age 11 on the S.S. Amsterdam, with her older brother (age 13) and two younger siblings (aged 8 and 5). Imagine being so young and responsible for a lengthy trans-Atlantic voyage with two youngsters. Luckily, the Farkas Family Tree had regular meetings, so as I grew up, I got to know Minnie's siblings and their children and grandchildren. Hi to my Farkas cousins!
• Theodore Schwartz (1887-1965) was my maternal grandpa. It was a surprise finding out that Grandpa Teddy, who ran a dairy store, was robbed of $50 at gunpoint during the Depression. Also, I didn't know that Teddy was a mover and shaker in the Kossuth Ferencz Hungarian Literary Sick and Benevolent Society, which raised money for charity and helped its members pay medical and funeral bills. Now I'm in touch with several cousins from the Schwartz family--saying hello to you, cousins!

Wordless Wednesday - Paula and Ibolyka Schwartz

This is a Wordless Wednesday because alas, I knew far too little about my great-aunt Paula Schwartz and her daughter, Ibolyka (Violet), shown in a photo they sent  to my maternal grandfather Theodore (Teddy) Schwartz (original name "Tivador," as in the inscription) in 1930.

Paula and her sister, Etel Schwartz, never came to the US even though their older brothers (Teddy and Samuel) arrived in the early 1900s and subsequently pooled their money to bring their baby sister Marushka (Mary) Schwartz to New York, as well.

Paula and Etel died in the Holocaust in World War II, along with other siblings. Their father, Herman Schwartz, died some time before the war.

2022 update: I've learned a lot about the family by searching Yad Vashem's testimony and connecting with Ibolyka's daughter, who is my 2d cousin on the Schwartz side.