Wrench or Sliders Offer Options for a Fresh View

I needed a fresh view of this 1800s/1900s naturalization document for Louis Mandel (1862-1914), whose son married into the Roth family, cousins of my Farkas family. Louis's grandson and namesake is my 2c1r. 

Above, the original document as it appeared in the Ancestry database, with white print on a black background. I found the dates a little difficult to decipher. 

At far right of screen, I clicked the wrench symbol to see various tools for viewing this document. (See image here --> for a close-up of the wrench.)

When a document has a dark background and white print, maybe "invert colors" will make it more readable. 

After inverting, I found it easier to read about Louis Mandel, a tailor living on Stanton Street in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, who arrived at the port of New York on November 20, 1890. He declared his intention to seek US citizenship on July 22, 1896 . . . and he became a US citizen on July 19, 1906.

Even better, as I clicked through the multiple documents in Louis's file, all were inverted to black on white after I inverted the first in the series. 

For other documents, I've used other tools, such as rotating left or right when a document has writing in more than one direction or a photo doesn't appear right side up. Not new tricks, but good tools to keep in mind, available under the wrench symbol on Ancestry. 

Similar tools are available on FamilySearch, as shown in image directly above. Here, the symbol is a pair of sliders leading to this menu (see red outline). Adjust  brightness and contrast, invert image colors, rotate image. Such handy tools.

PS: Teresa notes that Find My Past has similar tools (invert colors, contrast, etc) for use by subscribers.

"Symbol" is this week's #52Ancestors genealogy challenge from Amy Johnson Crow. 

When Rose Gained, Lost, and Regained US Citizenship

 

Rose Fishman Poticha (1896-1967) married into a distant branch of my father's family. I was researching her because I wondered whether her family lived near my father's ancestors before all came to America early in the 20th century.

Looking at the timeline of her life, I discovered she was caught up in that unfortunate period when women who married non-US citizens lost their own US citizenship.

Background: the Expatriation Act of 1907

On March 2, 1907, Congress passed the Expatriation Act, which stated that "any American woman who marries a foreigner shall take the nationality of her husband." 

This applied only to women...in fact, men didn't lose their US citizenship if they married a woman who was not a US citizen. (For a more detailed explanation, see the pdf here.)

Note that this act didn't cover just US-born women. Also women who were naturalized US citizens automatically became non-citizens when they married a foreigner. And that's where Rose's story comes into play.

Naturalized under her father's naturalization

Rose Fishman was born in Radomyshl, at the time part of Russia (now part of Ukraine). Her parents, Sam and Bertha Fishman, brought the family to America early in the 20th century. 

Sam Fishman quickly initiated the process of becoming a U.S. citizen, and he was naturalized in February of 1914. Under the citizenship rules of that time, his daughter Rose became a U.S. citizen as well.

Rose loses her citizenship by marrying a non-citizen

Two years later, Rose married Russian-born Harry Poticha, on February 6, 1916, in St. Louis, Missouri. Under the Expatriation Act, Rose lost her US citizenship because her husband was not a US citizen. 

Years later, Harry Poticha did become a naturalized US citizen. But meanwhile, Rose's citizenship situation was addressed by yet another act of Congress.

Background: The Cable Act

Women gained the right to vote in America starting in 1920, and perhaps that contributed to the pressure to change the messy citizenship situation created by the Expatriation Act of 1907.

Representative John Cable introduced the Cable Act of 1922, which was also called (appropriately enough) the Married Women's Independent Nationality Act. 

Under the Cable Act, women retained their US citizenship if they married a foreign-born man who was eligible for US citizenship, even if not yet a citizen and even if he ultimately didn't naturalize. Women's nationality was somewhat, as the act's title indicates, independent of their spouses' nationality. 

I'm oversimplifying the explanation and terms of this act, but you get the idea. IMHO, I doubt every woman affected by the Expatriation Act was aware she'd lost her US citizenship, just as I suspect these women weren't always sure how to regain their US citizenship. 

Rose regains her citizenship

Decades after Rose lost her US citizenship by marrying Harry Poticha, she petitioned to become a US citizen on her own.

As this image shows, she regained US citizenship on November 16, 1942, 26 years after losing it due to her marriage to someone not a US citizen.

Not unique in my family tree

Rose's situation was NOT unique in my family tree. I had a number of US-born female ancestors who lost their US citizenship when they married men who were not US citizens. But Rose is the only one I've noticed who was first naturalized, then lost her US citizenship by marrying a foreign-born man, then applied for naturalization on her own.

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

Just Curious: Did My Immigrant Ancestors Know English?

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

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

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

Comparing family stories and research 

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

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

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

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

Start with the US Census

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

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

Next stop: naturalization documentation

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

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

So...yes or no?

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

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

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

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

Could "Cousin Essti" Be "Esther Simonowitz" of Ungvar?

1914 naturalization petition of Edwin Kramer and Esther Simonowitz

This is the latest in the ongoing saga of researching my grandpa Tivador "Teddy" Schwartz and who he was coming to see in 1902 when he arrived at Ellis Island!

Teddy told Ellis Island immigration authorities that he was going to "Cousin Essti S___."

Teddy's mother's maiden name was Simonowitz (spelled and pronounced creatively in different ways). I'm hoping to trace Simonowitz family members who came to the United States. And of course, if those relatives had descendants, perhaps there are living cousins! It's still early in the process, however.

Marriage Certificate: A Potential Clue

As suggested by Lara Diamond, I went to a local Family History Center to view the image of the marriage certificate for Esther Simanowitz and Edwin Kramer. She was one of two Esthers with a last name very similar to the one scribbled on Teddy's immigration form.

Marriage cert for Esther Simanovitz and Edwin Kramer, 1906

I was intrigued by this possibility because the groom's mother's maiden name was Theresa Schwartz. Yes, Schwartz is also Grandpa Teddy's family name.

However, Esther didn't marry Edwin until four years after Teddy arrived, so this connection would not be the reason Teddy listed Essti. It's still a very powerful potential clue, one I'm keeping in mind. But wait, there's more...

Naturalization Petition: Another Clue

At the Family History Center, I was also able to view the Petition for Naturalization filed by Edwin Kramer in December, 1914. As shown at top, he listed his wife, Esther Simonovitz, and her birthplace of Ungvar, Hungary.

Now that's a really key clue, because my Grandpa Teddy was born and lived in Ungvar. More than likely his mother, Hani Simonowitz, was also from Ungvar. The match with Ungvar gives me hope.

Notice that Edwin was born in Nagy Ida, Hungary, which is today Vel'ka Ida, Slovakia. That's about 35 miles west of Ungvar. A bit far but not out of the realm of possibilities for a member of the Schwartz family to live there.

A BIG "But"

I've traced Edwin & Esther and their 3 children up to 1940, when they were living on East 142d Street in the Bronx, NY.

And here is where my knowledge of my family's history makes me wonder whether I have the correct Esther.

Nowhere in the 30 years worth of Farkas Family Tree minutes did I see the name "Kramer" as a guest at a family gathering. What does that mean?

My Grandpa Teddy, being married to Hermina Farkas for decades, would most likely have invited one of his cousins to a family gathering held in the Bronx or Manhattan. After all, he invited his sister Mary and her husband Edward Wirtschafter more than once (their names were in the minutes). I imagine Teddy would ask a cousin to come at least once, especially since the Kramers lived only a subway ride away until at least 1940.

To be sure my memory is correct, my next step is to skim the Farkas family records again in search of "Simonowitz" and "Kramer."

Until and unless I find more evidence, my tentative conclusion is that Esther Simonowitz is not "Cousin Essti."

Max Birk Arrived 111 Years Ago Today

My great uncle Max (Motel) Birk (1891?-1953) arrived at New York City aboard the SS Ryndam exactly 111 years ago, on July 9, 1906. Born in Kovno, Max was one of four brothers and two sisters who came to America.

I just found Max in the passenger manifest, arriving at the Port of New York from Rotterdam via the S.S. Ryndam. It took a bit of creative searching because the transcription showed his surname as "Brik" rather than "Birk." But knowing the date and name of ship was a big help! Also, Soundex is our friend. If possible, try Soundex searching (note the "620" on the naturalization index card above--the Soundex code for the category that "Birk" fits).

Max told authorities that he was 16 (his math was off), he was a butcher (not an occupation he pursued in America), and he had $1.50 in his pocket.

Most important: Max was being met by his brother "I. Burk" (my grandpa Isaac), c/o "M. Mahler" (my great-grandpa Meyer Mahler).

Max arrived only one month after his brother Isaac married Henrietta Mahler on June 10, 1906. Sounds like Isaac Burk and his bride didn't yet have their own place and remained with her father for a little while after the wedding--along with Max, possibly.

 

Years later, Max's naturalization papers from Chicago listed two witnesses, including a "Moses Kite." This was intriguing, because one of my DNA matches on Gedmatch.com is a member of the Kite family. Could this be a clue to a cousin connection?

I checked with this gentleman, who told me that Moses Kite worked at city hall in an administrative capacity and was probably a witness because he was on the spot, not because he was a cousin.

Welcome, great uncle Max.

Great Uncle Mayer Petitioned for Naturalization 99 Years Ago

Declaration of Intention dated 6 June 1918

Now that my mother's address book has helped me trace several "elusive" siblings of my paternal grandpa Isaac Burk, I've sent for documents to fill out their life stories. I began with my great uncle Mayer Berg (1883-1981), who was a year younger than my grandpa.

One lesson learned is: NARA doesn't have everybody's naturalization documents. A day after I submitted an online request and payment for Mayer Berg's naturalization papers, the archivists emailed me. They did not have Mayer's paperwork, but the Bronx authorities probably did. Thanks for the tip!

Another lesson learned: Pick up the phone before mailing a check. I called the Bronx County Clerk's office, and the officials kindly confirmed that they held Mayer's documents. I got a "package deal" because the petition and declaration were in a single file, so I didn't have to send for them separately (which would have cost more).

Snail mail was faster than usual: I received Mayer's naturalization documents in barely a week. It's dated June 6, 1918.

Just think, this great uncle was standing in a Bronx courthouse 99 years ago, filling out his final paperwork, declaration of intention for US citizenship. Mayer took his Oath of Allegiance on November 23, 1920. I'm going to give these documents to Mayer's granddaughter when we meet this week!

Tuesday's Tip: Free or Fee Genealogy, Part 2

Birth, marriage, death records really are vital records, since they have vital details for genealogical research. But they're not the only records I feel are vital for my Genealogy Go-Over and for ongoing discoveries about ancestors in my family tree.

Naturalization papers are a treasure trove of info, really important when I don't know someone's home town or birth date, and of course the names of witnesses can be the icing on the cake. When an ancestor is in my direct line, I usually do my best to get his or her naturalization, even if I have to pay for it, so I can double-check against other documents in my possession. Still, ordering from NARA takes time, not just money.

My favorite free source is Family Search, and even if I have to order a low-cost microfilm of naturalizations, it's a bargain and doesn't take much time. Many naturalizations are currently available through my Ancestry subscription, but not all. I used to have Fold3 access, which put many naturalizations at my finger tips.

Since many of my ancestors (maybe yours too) came through Ellis Island or Castle Garden and stayed in the New York/New Jersey area, I use Italiangen.org to see what naturalization documents are available before I make up my mind about paying.

Naturalizations in other countries aren't as easy to obtain from a distance. I was elated to discover last year that my great-uncle Abraham Berk's naturalization file could be requested from the Canadian authorities for the princely sum of $5 . . . until I realized that only Canadian residents could make the request. May I say how lucky I am that a friendly genealogy blogger in Canada graciously volunteered to place the order? Only a few weeks later, she scanned and sent me pages and pages of fascinating details from his file, including the document shown here, confirming his home town and other key details. Wow.

BONUS: After sharing my previous post on this subject with the Genealogy Do-Over community on Facebook, commenters there and on my blog offered more ideas about ways to save money on vital records and other genealogical documents. Here are some of their ideas:

• Check to see if there's a Facebook genealogy page for the locality where your ancestor was living or born/married/died. A volunteer might know of a local source for the document you're seeking or be willing to get it for you.
• Consider a "road trip" to get multiple documents from local authorities, if feasible.
• Check with the local genealogical society or historical society about whether some documents are in their files. (It works: I've saved some money this way, paying the local society for photocopies and a small donation.)
• Do a thorough online search--some places have put parish records and census records online, for example.
• Request help from the Random Acts of Genealogical Kindness folks, paying for copies etc.