Surname Saturday: McClure in Little Traverse, MI

Emmet Cty, MI death register from 1896

Second page of Emmet Cty, MI death register

Today I've returned to the puzzle of tracing my hubby's great-great-grandfather (Benjamin McClure), trying to learn who his parents were and where they came from.

Both Benjamin and his wife, Sarah McClure, are buried in Wabash Falls Memorial Gardens in Wabash, IN. But that's nowhere near where he, at least, died!

Acting on info received from a knowledgeable Wabash genealogist/historian, I learned that Benjamin actually died in 1896 in Little Traverse, MI, as shown on the second entry of the two pages above (downloaded from Family Search).

This is almost certainly the correct Benjamin, because his grandson, Brice Larimer McClure, was born in Little Traverse, MI, in Dec, 1878. I'd wondered why Brice's son, William Madison McClure and the son's wife, Margaret Jane Larimer, were in Little Traverse at all. Now it seems that family brought them there, although they quickly moved away.

However, the genealogist mentioned that Benjamin's parents were John & Ann McClure, according to the Wabash obit. Above, however, the death register says that his parents were Enos  & Elizabeth McClure. Somebody has the wrong info. 2022 update: John & Ann McFall McClure are correct parents. 

I've written to librarians in Wabash and Petoskey, MI, asking for Benjamin McClure's obits. Those should help me determine who's who in Benjamin's family line. I see more research in my future! Received, later blog post confirms!

Amanuensis Monday: Mail from Staffordshire to the Bronx

My mother's twin sister, Dorothy Schwartz, was a WAC in WWII, serving in England and receiving the Bronze Star for "meritorious service in direct support of operations against the enemy." She was the historian for the WAC detachment, 9th Air Force, having joined the company in spring, 1943 and leaving it in summer, 1945, when the war was winding down.

At 24 years old, Dorothy was far from her parents' apartment in the Bronx, NY, for the very first time. It was a difficult separation for my mother, Daisy Schwartz, because she was so close to her twin. (Frequent letters to and fro helped ease the separation, I know.)

On August 11, 1943, Dorothy's parents (my grandparents), Theodore and Hermina Schwartz, received an unexpected but very welcome letter from Edna S. Griffiths at Mayfield House, Stone, Staffordshire, England. She wrote, in part:

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

Edna and my grandparents exchanged letters a few more times until 1945, when Dorothy returned home. How lovely it must have been for my grandparents to know that their daughter had caring people she could visit and talk to during her time in England! Thank you, Edna Griffiths.

52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy: Nicknames (or Not)

My mother, Daisy Schwartz Burk, purposely gave her children names that weren't easily shortened or transformed into a popular nickname.

Maybe Mom's aversion to nicknames stemmed from her twin sister's dislike of her nickname: Dorothy Schwartz was often called "Dot" or "Dotty" by family and friends, an affectionate name but not one appreciated by either twin, apparently. When this aunt sent her nieces (me and my sisters) a postcard or greeting card, she signed it "Aunt Dorothy" or "Auntie."

Of course, I yearned for a nickname because "everybody else has one." One summer when my twin and I were in day camp--in different groups--I decided to take the plunge.

When the other campers asked my name, I said Cricket.* The girls accepted this nickname and used it for the few weeks we were at camp together.

Then Mom visited on Parents' Day. Counselors were puzzled when she mentioned her daughters' names. Marian Burk? Oh, you mean Cricket Burk?? Mom gave me an amused/annoyed look but said nothing. That was the one and only summer I had a nickname.

My sister loves her nickname Izzi and collects widgets with Izzi on it... :)


*Who knows why I came up with that nickname? The Shadow knows---bwaa ha ha!

Tuesday Time Travel: 1954, When Great-Uncle Sam Schwartz Died

My maternal grandfather Teddy Schwartz had an older brother, Sam Schwartz, who was the immigrant trailblazer. Sam told officials (draft boards and others) that he was born July 4, 1883 and I know he died on June 9, 1954, less than a month before he would have turned 71. Cousin Harriet tells me that Sam died of a heart attack, mowing his lawn on a hot summer day.

Sam spent many years operating his own grocery store in Queens, New York. Coincidentally (or not), my grandpa Teddy operated his own grocery store in the Bronx, NY. Sam's first wife, Anna Gelbman, died in 1940 and Sam remarried Margaret ___ sometime in the late 1940s or early 1950s.

What was happening in 1954, the year that Great-uncle Sam died?

• The US social and political landscape was changing. Pres. Eisenhower had recently ended the Korean War; Brown vs. the Board of Ed Topeka outlawed racial segregation in schools, a major shift in Southern states that had minimal effect where Sam lived in NYC. Senator Joe McCarthy was making headlines with Commie lists--and was finally discredited. The phrase "under God" was added to the pledge of allegiance. The first US nuclear sub, the Nautilus, was launched, adding to the atomic weaponry race during the Cold War. Rock 'n roll was coming to life. Sam would have been aware of most these shifts (not the rock 'n roll, for sure) and probably had a strong opinion on them (though I don't know what his opinions would have been).
• The Hungarian revolution was brewing. Sam, a native of Ungvar, certainly would have been unhappy about the Soviet domination of Hungary. Russia's Stalin died in 1953 and Hungary became embroiled in a struggle between the repressive Soviets and a slightly more progressive group of officials who wanted reforms. Sadly, Sam died before the Warsaw Pact tied Hungary even more tightly into the Soviet bloc and before the brief Hungarian Revolution of 1956, which failed in its attempt to tear Hungary away from the Soviet orbit.
• New York City: Ellis Island closes, Giants win World Series. Sam and his siblings knew all about Ellis Island. In fact, my grandpa Teddy worked as a runner for insurance firms etc., recruiting new arrivals at Ellis Island, because Teddy had a facility for languages. Perhaps immigrants like Sam and Teddy felt nostalgia for the first US building they set foot in, or perhaps they were relieved that the overcrowded place was no more. As a New Yorker, Sam would have been a bit pleased to know that a home team, the Giants (soon to decamp for California), stomped all over the Cleveland Indians in a four-game rout. Not of much consequence, I know, but who could resist mentioning this?

I'm still trying to find out more about Sam's second wife, Margaret, who I believe died in the 1970s and who had a son, William, from her first marriage.*

*2022 update: Her son was Simon, and he was living with Sam Schwartz and Margaret Schwartz in 1950 US Census, taken that April. Still searching!

Mystery Monday: Who Would I Choose for WDYTYA?

Susan Peterson of Long Lost Relatives asks the following:

Imagine, just for a moment, that you are the producer of the hit NBC television series, Who Do You Think You Are? What celebrities would you like to see on your perfect season of the show? And why would you choose them?

Susan, this is such a thought-provoking question that I took the weekend to consider who I'd like to learn about. (In Canada, by the way, a genealogy buff would be watching Ancestors in the Attic. In the UK, you'd be watching Who Do You Think You Are?)


So here are my eight choices:

Dion (of Dion & the Belmonts). Remember his hit The Wanderer? And then, later, Abraham and Martin and John? Being from the Bronx, I'd like to know more about the background of this Bronx-born pop singer of 1960s/70s fame.

Janet Evonavich. Author of One for the Money and other Stephanie Plum mystery novels. What's her family's story? Her heroine comes from an interesting family, genealogy-wise, so I wonder whether she's got interesting stories in her family tree.

Sasha Cohen. I'm a skating fan, what can I say? I bet she has some interesting ancestors from interesting places. Where are her roots?

David Pogue. When he writes about technology for the New York Times, he translates geekdom into plain English. Where do his genes come from??
 
Reed Hastings. He cofounded Netflix. Do his entrepreneurial smarts come from somewhere deep in his family's history? Inquiring minds want to know!

John Stewart. Who can watch the Daily Show and not wonder about this man's family tree??

John Grisham. Best-seller after best-seller for this author...and what about his family's characters?

Diana Tarausi. WNBA star, former UConn basketball great. (Go Lady Huskies!) I imagine she has a fascinating family background. WDYTYA should help her find out!

52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy: Dinnertime = Rotisserie Time

Mom (Daisy Schwartz Burk) loved to roast the main course for many dinners on her countertop rotisserie. Unlike today's gourmet built-ins on top-of-the-line ranges, this was a stainless-steel free-standing rotisserie with a sturdy spit partly enclosed behind a glass door. Nobody else we knew had such a gadget, which took up considerable space in the galley kitchen of our 2-bedroom apartment, but it was a prized possession in our household.

Chickens were rubbed with softened margarine and paprika, trussed, and mounted on the spit. Leg of lamb had slivers of garlic slipped into tiny slits here and there. No-tend cooking with an audience! My two sisters and I would watch and wait as the chicken (or leg of lamb) rotated in front of our eyes, until browned and cooked through. The aroma filled our apartment and spilled out into the hallway, giving us quite an appetite. As an adult, I don't want to think about the cleanup, but it certainly gave Mom a chance to open a can of veggies (peas and carrots, typically, since we were picky eaters) and cut wedges of iceberg lettuce to accompany dinner.

Usually there were 5 of us around the table in the dinette (a small eating area next to the kitchen). Once in a while, we three sisters would sit down to an early weeknight dinner with Mom (maybe at 6 pm or so) and then a little later, when Dad (Harold Burk) came home from his hour-long subway commute to the Bronx from Manhattan, he'd eat while Mom told him about her and our day and he talked about his day.

For variety, Mom would occasionally make a dairy dinner of cheese blintzes, made from a mix of "pot cheese" (whatever that was) and "farmer's cheese" (still available in some smaller supermarkets). Adults piled sour cream on top, we kids ate them as is. This was much more labor-intensive than rotisserie-cooked main courses, however, and so it wasn't often served. Yum!

My twin remembers the Hoffman sodas for special Sunday dinners, a quart bottle (no 2-liter plastic bottles in those days) that was bought the same day. Sarsaparilla was a favorite, and so was cream soda.

Hoffman used to promote a value ticket to the late, great Palisades Amusement Park, a big place once located "just south of G. Washington Bridge" in New Jersey. As teenagers dating boys with cars, my sister and I were there a few times, watching Cousin Brucie's Saturday night live DJ gig, for example. 

Sentimental Sunday: John Slatter Sr. Died in Cleveland

Thanks to the Cleveland Public Library's excellent necrology file, I found the above obituary for hubby's g-grandfather, John Slatter Sr. The source is not stated but is most likely the Cleveland Plain Dealer.

As I wrote earlier this month, I've been looking for his death record but alas, I found out that the Cuyahoga County probate court (Ohio) has nothing on him, and he's not in the statewide records either.

The nice folks at the probate court suggested that I contact the Cuyahoga County Archives. I e-mailed them on Friday and, if all goes well, I hope to hear by mid-August about whether Mr. Slatter is in their records.** Mr. Slatter was born in England, as was his daughter, Mary Slatter Wood, but their home towns are a mystery right now.

Apparently the probate court gets many inquiries from family researchers, because the officials were kind enough to send me a 22-pg guide to the genealogy resources available at the Cleveland Public Library and other local places. Thank you!

**The Cuyahoga County Archives sent me a photocopy of the ledger book page where John Slatter's death is recorded, from August 12, 1901. No parents' names or hometown, sad to say, but a little new info: He was widowed at the time of his death, and retired. Cause of death was "hemorrhage of bowels" and his last illness had lasted for 6 mos. He was born in England, and his parents were born in England, if this record is accurate. He's buried in Woodland cemetery in Cleveland (see marker above).

Unfortunately, he's not among those listed in Woodland cemetery on Find-a-Grave. But by searching for John Slatter Woodland Cemetery Cleveland, I found the above record of burials in that cemetery, and there he is, along with the location of his grave. Also a mysterious notation "2/26/1895" that relates to "Louisa Slatter," a his second wife. She lived at 433 1/2 St. Clair when she died on Feb 26, 1895, was 46, white, native of England, and died of Brights disease. Um, not a native of England, as it turns out (2022 update).

2022 update: John is buried there...I've set up a Find a Grave memorial page for him (and one for his second wife).

52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy: Grandparents' Apartment in the Bronx

Farkas sisters & Hermina's grandson

After years of living in apartments in what is now termed the "South Bronx" but was not then dangerous, just crowded, my maternal grandparents (Hermina Farkas Schwartz and Theodore Schwartz) moved to a more spacious two-bedroom, one bathroom apartment at 600 East 178 Street, just off East Tremont Avenue in the Bronx, NY. Hermina is at left in this photo with three of her sisters and her grandson. Sadly, Hermina died in 1964 and Teddy died in 1965.

When I first became genealogy-crazy (more than a decade ago), I wrote this description of the apartment before the memories faded even more, getting input from my sisters:

The living room furniture was dark, forest green, pale grey, and beige colors. The sofa was horsehair. There was one standing lamp next to the Morris chair that matched the sofa, and at the other end of the room, a "china" cabinet with fine cut crystal pieces that were dispersed among family and friends after Minnie [Grandma] died and the household was broken up because Teddy [Grandpa] was coming to live with Daisy [Mom]. My younger sister remembered an ashtray with a cover that slid closed over it, which Uncle Julius [Farkas] would use for his cigars. The living room also had a 3-foot diameter mirror with etched leaf design along the top edge, and below it was a folding-leaf table that opened to card-table size with curved legs.

My twin sister remembered that in the winter, every radiator in the apartment had a pot of water on it to increase the humidity. The master bedroom had snake plants on the window sill and there was a faint smell of mothballs. The second bedroom had twin beds with a night table between them. In the night table drawer were a few toys Minnie kept for we grandkids.

The kitchen had a white enamel old-fashioned stove, with a wooden match holder nearby and a root "cooler" embedded under the kitchen window. There was a double sink and an ice box, later a fridge. The family usually ate in the kitchen but for company, Minnie opened up the large table from the living room (and we ate in the foyer). We clearly remember a portrait of FDR (Teddy's favorite politician, photo cut from a newspaper article) hanging over the dining table in the foyer.

Also in the foyer was Minnie's treadle sewing machine in a lovely wooden cabinet. We grandkids would play with metal/whalebone stays from corsets, and with thread bobbins, that we found in the machine's drawers.

To get to our grandparents' apartment from our apartment in the northeast Bronx, we had to take two buses or a subway and a bus, then walk a block or two from East Tremont (the business/shopping district) to the apartment building. Early on, the building had nice furniture in the lobby but by the 1960s, the furniture was shabby and then missing altogether.

Although the apartment was a block from what is now the fabled Arthur Avenue district, known for Italian restaurants and food stores, we didn't know about it at the time. We would go to movies on East Tremont sometimes, or window-shop the stores. My mother later tried to write a children's book about children going to their grandparents' apartment and vying to punch the elevator buttons. It was, of course, based on what we kids liked to do, but publishers didn't bite. Wish I had that manuscript today!

Madness Monday: TMI in genealogy?

Pop quiz: Can you EVER have too much info as you research your family tree?

Here are your possible answers:

1. What, are you mad? There's no such thing as TMI in genealogy!
2. Only if you already have Census records of your 4th cousin 2x removed and tax records of the neighbor who lent your g-g-grandpa the $ for his passage to the new world.
3. What else are 1-terrabyte hard drives for?
4. Not as long as there's an in-law or distant cousin unaccounted for from cradle to grave.
5. All of the above.

Mark me down for answer #5. I'm lucky enough to have connected with some relatives who know stories about and/or possess photos of our mutual ancestors.

One of my cousins has a notebook with names/dates, which her mother started decades ago, and photos as well. Can't wait till she gets me copies! A cousin of my husband might have photos of his ancestors, but I know she's busy and means to share when she has a chance.

Some people on our family tree are just stubbornly mysterious and elusive. Please, cousins, I'd love to know what you know! Thank you. Over and out :)

52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy: Employment (working for wheels)

My first wheels were a Yamaha 50. Needless to say, my mother wasn't at all happy about me riding this tiny motorcycle through the streets of New York City, so she suggested I either say goodbye to the bike or say goodbye to home.

You can see my choice here, as a college student. Now, as an adult, I understand and completely sympathize with my mother's worry. Then, however, I thought she was overreacting (!).

After all, the bike had a top speed of 50 mph, going downhill with a tailwind. I wasn't going to give up my first wheels, not me!

Once I had my own apartment (rent: $112.15 per month for 3 rooms, including gas and electric) I had to work to keep up my wheels. Well, actually, it wasn't much work: Filling the gas tank to the very brim, in those days, cost 25 cents. Really.

But I was still in college (thanks to free tuition at CUNY) and now I had textbooks to buy, rent to pay, and other expenses, not to mention finding extra cash to buy LPs too. So one of my first real part-time jobs was as a secretary to Mr. Meyer, who owned a leather importing firm at 215 Park Avenue South in Manhattan. On days when I had no school, I'd drive down from the Bronx on my motorcycle, park in Union Square, and walk two blocks to Mr. Meyer's office.

Mr. Meyer was tickled by my independence and was fairly happy with my typing (filing was another story). Later, I brought in my twin and my boyfriend to work part-time and together, we three filled all 5 days of the week as his secretary. This arrangement lasted about two years until we all graduated from college and went our various ways in the world. I traded in my Yamaha 50 for a Yamaha Twin Jet 100, which never worked right from the first day. But soon I became the proud owner of a Mercury Cougar and it was four wheels only from then on, despite some bad car karma!

52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy: Water (Cruising Along)

My in-laws, Marian Jane McClure Wood and Edgar James Wood, absolutely loved cruising to Europe and back. (I've written an entry about his college days, paying his way across the Atlantic by playing in bands.) Ed took photos and slides everywhere, as well as making notes during the journey, so we know where/when they cruised.

Above, for example, they're enjoying the "Farewell Dinner" aboard the Cristoforo Colombo on Wednesday, November 5, 1969 (according to the caption on back of the photo). Below, they're smiling at the Gala Dinner on the S.S. France on Monday, September 4, 1967.

My hubby and I love to cruise too. This year and last, we went to the Baltic. Nowadays, we each carry a camera and take photos (hundreds and hundreds). Then we choose 100 or so to put into a Shutterfly book. Here's a favorite shot from our visit to the Hermitage last month. Great memories!

Church Record Sunday: The McClures in Wabash County, Indiana

I'd love to see church records for Benjamin and Sarah McClure, both of whom died in Wabash County, IN, and are buried in Falls Memorial Gardens cemetery. The McClures are ancestors of my husband, but I can't get any further back in the McClure line without their parents' names (and Sarah's maiden name).

Benjamin McClure, born in 1812, died in Wabash County on Feb 21, 1896 

Sarah McClure was born in 1811 (I think) and died in Wabash County on July 29, 1888 

Unfortunately, the county clerk has no record of their deaths, and these dates are too early for their records to be on file in statewide archives. The county clerk suggested I check church records, a good idea once I figure out which church they might have attended and/or had their funeral in! As a start, I've written for information from the "friends" group that posted the McClure grave photos on Find-a-Grave. Maybe I'll get lucky?! 

Update: The historian who researched the McClures for the cemetery just wrote me back  to suggest I contact the Wabash Pres. Church where Benjamin was an elder, saying the church maintains excellent records. I'm going to do that. Thank you to this genealogy "angel" for the great idea!

Surname Saturday: Still Seeking the Slatters

Mary Slatter (born in England) married James Edgar Wood on September 21, 1898 in Lucas County, Ohio. Mary and Edgar are my husband's paternal grandparents. Mary's parents are, supposedly, John and Mary Slatter.

Grandma Mary Slatter's obit, dated April 26, 1925, mentions that she was the "sister of Mrs. James F. Baker, John, Albert and Harry Slatter of Canada." (See update below.)
One of the artifacts that my late father-in-law had in his possession was this card showing the location of the grave of John Slatter.

No city is mentioned, but the "union stamp" at lower left mentions Cleveland, Ohio. Now all I have to do is look for the death cert of a John Slatter Sr. who died in Cleveland on Aug 12 and was buried on Aug 15, 1901 or look up all the cemeteries in the area that have sec. 75, tier 6, grave 2. According to the Cleveland Public Library, John died at the home of his daughter at 242 Lake Street, aged 65.

2022 update: I know a lot about the Slatter family! See my ancestor landing page.

52 Weeks of Genealogy: Summer--Backstage at Cain (Pain) Park

This is a guest post by hubby, Wally, about his two summers working backstage at famed Cain Park in Cleveland Heights, OH, during the 1950s. The summer season at that time included 4 musicals (which ran for 2 weeks each). 

Cain Park in the 1940s - Cleveland State Library Special Collections

When I was 17 and 18 and still in high school, I worked as a summer apprentice at Cain Park Theater, and my younger sister worked on the paint crew. During the day, I built scenery and at night, I ran a follow-spot on actors during the shows. Because the stage was 90 feet wide, it needed a lot of scenery to fill it. We built almost a full-size house for Wizard of Oz, for example, and a working merry-go-round for Carousel.

It was a challenge because while one show was running, we were building the scenery for the next and handling backstage duties during the current show's evening performance. (We nicknamed the place "Pain Park" because we worked so hard.) Similarly, the cast had to rehearse the next show during the day while performing the current show each night. The cast included dancers and singers and up-and-coming performers . . . people like Dom DeLuise, for example, who I remember was just hilarious in The Red Mill.

The stage crew had a tradition of trying to distract the cast during the final performance of each show (as a prank). In Annie Get Your Gun, I ran a follow-spot from my position high on a brick tower (see two covered in ivy in photo above). During the show, Annie Oakley and her friends are returning from Europe by ship; they're hungry and Annie shoots into the sky to bring down dinner. I would then throw a stuffed seagull from the tower so it would land onstage. All the audience could see is that Annie shot into the sky and this bird dropped near her feet--except the night I missed and threw it into the orchestra pit. 

During the last performance, a friend was in the tower with me. When Annie shot, we threw every stuffed prop we could get our hands on: a pig, a roast turkey, a cat, a puppy. As these items rained down around the star, one of the cast adlibbed: "My, that's fine shootin', Annie!" Looking back, I'm surprised management didn't throw me out of the theater at that moment.
 

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52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy and History by Amy Coffin is a series of weekly blogging prompts (one for each week of 2011) that invite genealogists and others to record memories and insights about their own lives for future descendants.

Tuesday Time Travel: 1946, When Mom & Dad Married

 

In November, 1946, my mother (Daisy Schwartz) married my father (Harold Burk). They're shown in this wedding photo, seated together in the front row among my father's family (including his brother, Sidney Burk, standing at far right).

Apart from this being the year after WWII ended--and my father and uncle were now out of the Army--what was life like for them in 1946?

• Baby boom and housing shortage. Returning soldiers (like Dad), sailors, and Marines wanted to settle down with a family and a place of their own, but high birth rates and high demand for housing quickly led to a shortage. Mom and Dad started looking for an apartment as soon as they got engaged (New Year's Day, 1946) and within a few weeks it was clear that they'd have to wait till November to get married, to allow enough time to find a place. My suspicion is that they also needed to save money for the wedding and honeymoon. After all, Dad only got out of the service in October, 1945 and set himself up in business later that fall. The continuing shortage proved a challenge when Mom became pregnant in mid-1949 and they needed more room than their basement apartment in Queens provided. Ultimately they moved to the apartment building where Dad's mother, brother, and sister lived in the north-east Bronx.
• Broadway and Hollywood were thriving. Being native New Yorkers, my parents loved Broadway and saw shows while engaged and then after marriage. Which ones? I don't know too many specifics, but in 1946, they had lots of what are now considered classics from which to choose: Life with Father, Oklahoma, The Glass Menagerie, and Carousel. No wonder my parents would occasionally break out into tune (or my father would whistle) some of the show tunes from their younger days. Mom was an avid movie-goer, too, as letters written to her indicate. Among the movies that year were The Best Years of Our Lives, The Virginian, and Hitchcock's Notorious. Certainly they went to neighborhood theaters, which were posher then than now, but possibly also went to Radio City Music Hall for song/dance and movies too.
• Nuremberg trials continued. Since Dad and Uncle Sidney both served in Europe, they no doubt followed news of the Nazi trials in Nuremberg. Growing up, our family friends included a couple who had numbers tattooed on their arms from their time in concentration camps. The war was over, but the aftermath was real and close to home.
• New York City was growing and optimism ruled. Mayor O'Dwyer brought Robert Moses in to head city construction projects; Moses was part of the team that negotiated to bring the UN World Headquarters to Manhattan. Earlier, he had created Jones Beach on Long Island, where many NYers went (and still go) for fun in the sun; he also masterminded many of the main highways and some bridges that connect the boroughs. New York was on an upward path and many residents, including my parents, were excited about the possibilities of living and working in the city.