Ancestors Hidden in Plain Sight

If my ancestors in the old country never owned land or held an important job, their ordinary everyday lives might be invisible to my present-day genealogical researcher's eyes. Hidden in plain sight, just farmers or peasants or peddlers--who knows? But their lives are important to me and I hope I'll come across some tiny clue to their existence, other than cemetery inscriptions. 

Being unimportant might have been an asset during the years when villages were sometimes considered part of one nation or empire and then became part of another nation or empire later as a result of war or political shenanigans. Religious beliefs played a role as well. Then there was the matter of not being eager to lose sons to military service. I can understand why my ancestors might not have wanted to be very visible. But I still hope I'll get a glimpse of their lives and aspirations through my research. 

Even ancestors who lived in this country in this century are sometimes partially hidden because they weren't "anybodies." This week I got the marriage certificate of a relative who came to the US just after the turn of the 20th century and got married in the Cherry Street Synagogue in Bridgeport, CT, a place that no longer exists. 

According to the certificate, Sam Schwartz worked in a factory at the time of his marriage. Wonder whether the factory is still there? Wonder how Sam met his future wife, Anna Gelbman? I know he later opened a grocery store with another relative in Astoria, NY. But how and why did he get to Bridgeport? What did Anna think of moving away from her family? I'm still trying to puzzle out these ancestors' movements, let alone their motivations. Hidden in plain sight?

2022 update: Link to Cherry Street Synagogue added. And I don't know actual answer to why Sam chose to go to Bridgeport when he arrived in America from his native Ungvar, Hungary--but I suspect it has to do with availability of jobs for men with his skill (he was a printer). 

September 1945: Big Strikes in Big Apple

One of the letters written to my Mom comments on her apparent mention, in her letter, of the big elevator operator strike of September, 1945. According to the book Working-Class New York, this was a huge strike of elevator operators, maintenance people, doormen and others, a strike that brought business in the Big Apple to a virtual halt. 

Time also covered the strike, quoting both NYC Mayor LaGuardia and New York Governor Tom Dewey on their successful efforts to get labor and management back to the bargaining table. 

In those days, self-service elevators were practically non-existent, so having the operators go on strike meant no elevator access to offices and showrooms on high floors in tall NYC skyscrapers. On the other hand, because of mandatory wage freezes during WWII, many workers were anxious for raises, and the strikes reflected this pent-up frustration. 

The Empire State Building, having been accidentally hit at the 78th floor by an airplane in July, 1945, was just getting back to normal when the strike posed new problems for commercial tenants and their visitors (not to mention mail carriers). I wonder how many office workers climbed 20 or 80 or even 90 sets of stairs to go to work every day? 

One story tells of a big group of stockbrokers (on the 31st floor of the Empire State Bldg) ordering sandwiches and giving the delivery person a $75 tip for walking up all those stairs! Interestingly, my Mom's friend in the Navy writes that there are plenty of strikes in San Francisco, the big city closest to where he is stationed. He also mentions major fires in the area, the result of prolonged drought. "You will probably see pictures of the fires soon in the newsreels" he writes, since at this time the major news outlets were newspapers, radio and newsreels shown in movie theaters.

2022 update: fixed broken link.

Idle Gossip Sinks Ships and Win the War Stamp

Over the years, Mom saved dozens and dozens of letters from a few close friends and relatives. I'm still transcribing a few every day. Just looking at the envelopes is an education in history. The envelopes of letters sent by one friend, writing from an Air Corps training camp in Goldsboro, NC, are stamped "IDLE GOSSIP SINKS SHIPS." The dates are late 1942 through mid-1943. The stamps are purple with an eagle holding its wings high and the phrase "WIN THE WAR." 2022 update: added image from Smithsonian.

FamilySearch Labs - Obsolete

Wow! Tom Kemp of NewsBank.com gave a wonderful talk to my local genealogy group last night. Lots of great tips and ideas to get us back to our keyboards for more research. Among the many online gems he mentioned was FamilySearch Labs, a site with lots of almost-ready-for-prime-time tools and resources. 

2022 update: This post is obsolete, as the site is no longer in operation.

Letters to my Mom

I'm transcribing letters written to my mother in the late 1930s and into the 1940s, by one of her closest friends and, later, by the friend's husband as well and a few other folks. What an incredible way to learn about my Bronx-born mother's thoughts, feelings, dreams, hopes, disappointments, and fears. Thank goodness for Google--I can look at the streets where Mom once lived, where her correspondents lived, and find out about places where they vacationed, such as Scaroon Manor on Schroon Lake, NY. That was pretty far from the Bronx, in distance and in other ways as well.

Mom's alma mater was JHS 60 in Bronx, NY and James Monroe HS in Bronx, NY. The JHS is no longer there, apparently, and James Monroe isn't a high school any longer. 

Back in the 1930s and 1940s, this was a busy and crowded area of the Bronx; it wasn't the "South Bronx" that today is so notorious for high crime, etc. 

One letter, dated August 1941, refers to the good men already being "with Uncle Sam"--an eye-opener because I was under the impression that the movement to join the armed services didn't happen till after Pearl Harbor, not before. How lucky I am that Mom saved this treasure trove of letters for decades.

2022 update: freshened links. 

Staying in touch with newfound cousins

When it comes to staying in touch with newly-found cousins, how often is too often? I'm connected to a couple of cousins via Facebook and post or send a FB note every other month to say hello if I haven't heard from them. I exchange e-mails with a couple of other cousins about 3-4 times a year or so. One cousin I call every few months to say hello and update her on my genealogical adventures. And of course I send ("e" or snail mail) season's greetings and new year's wishes to all my cousins. I've even met some cousins face to face! 

One cousin on my husband's side, an avid genealogy researcher, is in touch every couple of weeks; it's a real pleasure to hear that family's news, or share in the latest family-tree expansion, or at least get a "hello." Even if I receive only a forwarded joke now and then, I'm glad to be thought of and considered part of the family circle. 2022 update: This researcher and I are still in touch and we often share info, as well as updates on our own families!

Probably few relatives remain as excited about renewing long-lost family connections as I am, although most are delighted at the outset. Everybody's busy these days, with work or family or hobbies or just the details of everyday life. 

How often is TOO often to be in touch? I'm not just looking to fill out the boxes on the family tree. I'm genuinely interested in staying in touch and learning more about my family members, sharing memories of our mutual ancestors and enjoying the genealogical adventure together. 

What are your thoughts on staying in touch with relatives you've recently discovered in your family research?

Whose Mama? Who's Mama?

Going through a family photo album created in the 1990s, which just turned up, I found this small photo. On the reverse, in what looks to my eyes like a European hand, is one word: Mama. 

Whose mama is this? And who is Mama? No other clues are available on the photo and no other photos in the album are similar (nor was it near any old photos). Sadly, it could have been from either side of my family. The face doesn't look familiar at all. I'm going to ask a few cousins to take a look but I don't have much hope. 

This is one reason why I'm interested in Picasa 3.5's new face recognition feature. I haven't tried it yet, but Picasa claims that once I've started tagging photos on my hard drive, it will tag new photos automatically and allow me to filter searches by person. I'm going to give it a try soon to see whether it works just as well with old photos as it does with new photos.

2022 update: In 2016 I connected with UK cousins and learned that this was Anna Hannah Mitav Chazan. Picasa is, alas, no longer supported by parent company Google but I still have it.

The Burk Bag Tradition

Thank goodness, my mother always clipped from newspapers and magazines and sent the clips to family members. Remember this neighborhood icon that's being torn down? Remember when we were talking about the NYC school system? She'd put the clipping into her latest letter and send it along. When our family got together, she'd hand magazines or something else to each of us girls, in a shopping bag or some such. 

That tradition became known as The Burk Bag. And it's lasted well into this generation and the next, with tote bags always being exchanged when one family member visits with another. It happened yesterday when my sis and I exchanged Burk Bags. 

My nieces bring Burk Bags when they visit and of course leave with Burk Bags as well. I received lots of books (to read or donate to the local library's fabulous book sale) and some mag and newspaper clippings. Remember Frederik Pohl (I'm a sci-fi fan)? Here's the August 22nd NYT story about his receiving an honorary degree from Brooklyn Tech. Did I know that Brian Boitano has a new cooking show (I'm a skating fan)? Here's a mag clipping about it. In exchange, my sis got a tiny Burk Bag I filled with two magazines, a book, and a black frog for her new jacket. 

We went through some old family letters yesterday and found them filled with clippings too. Apparently my family went for this kind of thing during the 1940s (long before my time) and the spirit of The Burk Bag is alive and well even today.

Sometimes the Burk Bags are filled to the brim, sometimes they're pretty slender, but all are reminders of our family's tradition and how we think of each other even when we're miles apart.

2022 update: Burk Bags continue! We still carry on the tradition and everyone knows what a "Burk Bag" is.

Researching sideways

Researching sideways (as Toni McKeen calls it)--looking for all siblings in each generation and their spouses/in-laws and even extended family members--takes time but it can be very productive. It led me to finding 2d cousins I never knew about!

Here's what happened: my first-cousin once removed really loved her favorite aunt Anna, who married my grand-uncle Sam. I decided to research Anna's family and found that there was no surname message board devoted to her family's last name, so I got permission from Ancestry to start one. That was in June. 

Just two weeks ago, I got a note on that surname board from Burt, who told me he's related to Anna's family. He and I exchanged e-mails, I sent him a photo of Sam and Anna, and lo and behold, he gave me the e-mail of my second cousin Gary. Gary and I exchanged e-mails and the next thing I know, Gary's sister Bonnie called me to say how much she enjoyed seeing the photo of Sam and Anna--her grandparents! Plus Bonnie has some family tree info she got from a favorite aunt. 

It's wonderful to get acquainted with these long-lost cousins and hear their stories. And it's all because of researching sideways. Thank you, Burt, for taking the time to answer my query. More genealogy adventures are ahead, I'm sure.

2022 update: I'm still in touch with Gary and Bonnie, and although surname message boards are obsolete, I use other methods to research sideways.

Remembering Sept 11, 2001

On a 2-wk tour of Italy, I was sitting in the public room of a small hotel in Rome during afternoon siesta hours on September 11th. The TV was on in the corner, showing an Italian soap opera, and I was stitching a needlepoint stocking for Michael's first Christmas.

Suddenly the TV picture switched to a jet slamming into one of the Twin Towers, and the station replayed that clip several times as Italian newscasters discussed what was happening. The crawl at bottom of the screen credited CNN for the footage, and I quickly realized that any English-language commentary was being replaced by Italian commentary. But I did notice the word "live" and it became clear that the picture of the damaged Twin Towers was being broadcast in real time.

I found my husband and we found one of the tour guides, who joined the group gathered by the small TV. As we watched in shock, the second jet rammed the Twin Towers and our guide translated what the news anchors were saying. We sat numb and horrified as the first Tower collapsed.

By now many tour members were already on the phone trying to call friends and relatives in NYC, even though we'd already heard that the lines were jammed and calls weren't getting through. Instead many of us went to the nearest Internet point to check online news sites and send e-mails to our NY connections.

The rest of that day is a blur, although I know the guides suggested a quiet walking tour of one of the seven hills. For the next few days, whenever our group was in public, Italians would come up to us, ask if we were American, and express their shock over the attack and their support for us and our nation.

We were visiting the Vatican that Friday during the time when the worldwide period of silence was observed. Everyone in the Vatican stopped what they were doing and stood up, respectfully standing in place for three minutes with heads bowed, in silent prayer or contemplation or sorrow. Those few minutes brought a brief sense of peace, comfort and solidarity. Today, 8 years later, still sadness and sorrow, never to be forgotten.