Military Monday: What Dad Did in the War, 1942-1945

Second from left in the front row is Harold Burk, my father. He enlisted on March 7, 1942 at Camp Upton, NY. Maybe this is his basic training photo?

Dad served in the Army's 3163rd Signal Service Company, as a teletype operator and then as a personnel clerk, rising to the rank of Technician, 5th grade (insignia at right) by the time of his discharge in October, 1945. In all, he served for 3 years, 6 months, and 28 days.

The pinnacle of his advancement was becoming a sgt, but he didn't hold that post for long (see earlier blog post about his story about that experience).

Dad's military paperwork shows that he served in Central Europe and Rhineland (red/blue insignia above left), leaving for Europe in November, 1944 and returning to the US in July, 1945. At left are three photos of him, marked "Paris, April, 1945."

He received a "European-African-Middle Eastern Service Medal" as well as a good conduct medal. Sadly, I don't have either of his decorations, and he told precious few stories of his time in the service.

After his service was over, Dad didn't waste any time looking for the right gal to marry. Three weeks after his discharge, he met Mom (Daisy Schwartz) and kissed her on the first date, according to a letter she wrote to her best friend. By New Year's Day, 1946, they were engaged, and because of the severe post-war housing shortage, they didn't get married until November, 1946. My father wooed my mother endlessly during that time, sending her cards and letters when separated, many of which she saved for decades (and passed along to her daughters). He was 10 years older than my mother and eager to make up for lost time by settling down right away!

52 Weeks: Fame--I Danced on Broadway with Rum Tum Tugger!

Terrence Mann--yes, that handsome star--was my partner in an impromptu dance to the stage of New York's Wintergarden Theatre on the last Monday in February, 1984. Cats was still one of the hottest tickets in town.

At the time, I was an executive with a retail trade organization and was running a New York meeting for 300 credit managers from department stores around the United States. The committee head had arranged for the tickets on a free night during the meeting--it was his third time seeing Cats--and he made sure that I sat in K 120, an aisle seat mid-way up the orchestra section. (My twin sis was there too--her tx is above.)

When sexy Rum Tum Tugger (played by Mann) pranced off the stage in Act I during his big musical number, he ran up the aisle and stopped right next to my seat. He held out his hand to me, I grabbed on, and he pulled me up and into the aisle. Then he spun me around in a circle and we flew back down the aisle. He propelled me onto the huge stage, at the very center of the spotlight, in front of the cast and chorus (who kept singing and dancing in the background). Good thing I was wearing a nice outfit and my best makeup!

Astonished, excited, and blushing--but playing along--I mimicked Rum Tum Tugger's dance steps for a minute or two onstage. He then did something even more surprising: He reached down to the knee-length hem of my skirt, picked it up ever so slightly, and said to the audience, "Great legs!"

Rum Tum Tugger finally danced me back to my aisle seat, blew kisses to me, and went back to the stage. Throughout Act I and into Act II, every time this hunky guy left the stage to sing or dance in the aisles, he moved near me and blew me kisses. Again and again. I was so flustered that I couldn't pay any attention to the show itself. (In fact, I got tickets again the next year so I could enjoy the performance as part of the audience. I didn't sit in an aisle seat, and anyway, Terrence Mann had left the show by that time.)

I had no idea that dozens of the credit managers from my meeting were sitting in the mezzanine at that Cats performance! The following day, when I walked into the meeting, I was cheered (ahem, not jeered). The managers assumed that I had arranged my Broadway debut specifically because they were in the audience. I sheepishly admitted that I didn't know they'd be there and I certainly didn't expect to be dancing with Rum Tum Tugger. The committee head surely knew when he gave me the aisle seat--but he stayed mum before, during, and ever after.

So that's how I came to dance on Broadway with Terrence Mann. Want to see him as Rum Tum Tugger? Click here for the video snippet!

52 Weeks of Genealogy: Bedroom (Three's Company)

Time marches on. A long time ago, My two sisters and I shared a bedroom in our family's 2-bedroom apartment in the Bronx. (At that time, everybody we knew--everybody--lived in an apartment, except for one friend whose parents lived upstairs in a two-family home.)

Three's company in one crowded bedroom: Three beds, a standing closet, a bureau, and three active girls.

On a rainy day, we'd push all the beds against the walls and march around to the music of "Zulu Warrior" blasting from the record player. Stomp, stomp, stomp, it's a wonder our downstairs neighbors didn't go ballistic!

On summer nights, the windows would be wide open to let in the breeze. This also let in night-time sounds, such as the distant rattle of trains on the elevated subway line, one l-o-n-g block to the east. Although there was a bit of street noise from the occasional car driving along Carpenter Avenue, where our windows faced, traffic was pretty sparse in those days.

Our bedroom was painted one of two colors: Landlord beige or landlord green. Every three years, the landlord was required to repaint, and those were the "standard" colors for everybody. (Want something different? Tip the painter privately for paint and special treatment.)

Wedding Wednesday: My Farkas Family

In 1932, my great-aunt Jeanne (Regina) Farkas (third from left in front row) married Harold Marks (third from right in front row).

The matriarch and patriarch, my maternal great-grandpa Moritz Farkas (second from left in front row) and great-grandma Lena Kunstler Farkas (fourth from left in front row), were in their early 70s.

My mother's parents, Hermina Farkas Schwartz and Theodore Schwartz, were married about 20 years at that point. Hermina (known as Minnie) is second from right in front row, an honored sister of the bride. Theodore (Teddy) is third from right in back row. In later years, Minnie came to look very much like her mother Lena, including the trademark natural waves of hair on the forehead. Minnie kept her white-gray hair very long, in a bun at the nape of her neck. It's difficult not to wonder where, in the Depression years, the family found the money for what looks like a formal wedding. 2022 update: The original of this beautiful wedding photo has been given to grandchildren of Jeanne and Harold Marks, as I curated my genealogy collection.

Motivation Monday: A Secret Gift (Book Review)

Over the weekend, I read A Secret Gift by Ted Gup, the story of the author's quest to learn more about his maternal grandfather. For any family genealogy nut (like me!), this is fascinating reading. It's wonderful motivation, as well, because of the satisfaction of following along as Gup puts the pieces of the puzzle together and reconstructs the past (very vividly).

What drew Gup into the quest was a dusty suitcase. By the end of his years of research, Gup had uncovered most of his father's secrets--and his father's secret kindness in his adopted hometown of Canton, Ohio.

It all started when Gup's mother, 80 years old, was clearing out her attic and gave him a suitcase of letters and other family memorabilia. Inside was a large envelope with the mysterious inscription: "Pertaning Xmas Gift Distribtion." (Yes, bad spelling and all.)

The letters were dated December 18, 1933, one week before Christmas, in the dark days of the Depression. Also with the letters was a sheaf of canceled checks, each for $5 and each signed by "B. Virdot." Gup puzzled over the envelope until he pulled out a folded piece of newspaper and read the story of a mysterious benefactor, B. Virdot, offering money to locals who were down on their luck. B. Virdot, it turned out, was Gup's grandfather, Sam Stone, acting anonymously to help families in his community.

Why would Sam hand out money to Canton residents? That's what Gup wanted to find out. He also wanted to know who got the money, why, and what it meant to them. So he not only applied his genealogical tracing skills to Sam and family, but to the people who had written the letters found in the suitcase. Once Gup tracked down descendants and read them the words of their parents or relatives, he got their side of the story and showed what the $5 gift meant to each family. (Gup reminds us that $5 then was like $100 today.)

Sam's story, as told by Gup, reveals his dreams and fears, his ups and downs. Highly recommended for the genealogy as well as the writing and the heart-wrenching, heart-warming picture of his family and the families he helped.

Sentimental Sunday: Matriarchs--Daisy, Minnie, and Yetta

My mother and grandmothers are gone, sorry to say, but they live on in my heart and in my blog! Happy mother's day to these matriarchs of my family.

At left, smiling broadly, is my mother, Daisy Ruth Burk (nee Schwartz), on her wedding day in 1946 in New York City. She's wearing her fave Persian lamb coat and getting ready to go to Bermuda on her honeymoon with Dad (Harold Burk). Daisy married at 26 and had three much-loved children. She had a passion for reading, was an ace typist, enjoyed crocheting. Cooking wasn't her strong suit but she had a few signature dishes that we children relished (like junk soup and blintzes).  

At right is my maternal grandma (Daisy's mom), Hermina (Minnie) Schwartz (nee Farkas), on her wedding day in 1911 in New York City. She married Theodore (Teddy) Schwartz, who was then selling insurance (?) to immigrants, and after her son Fred and her twins Daisy and Dorothy were born, she and Teddy opened their own grocery store in the Bronx. Minnie was an expert seamstress and the back of her embroidery pieces looked just as good as the front. She was also a great cook: Her native Hungarian dishes (like strudel) were legendary in the family.
 

At left is my paternal grandma, Henrietta (Yetta) Burk (nee Mahler). Yetta, born in Latvia, married my grandpa Isaac Burk in New York City in 1906. Yetta had four children: Mildred, Harold (my Dad), Miriam, and Sidney. She crossed the border to and from Canada following Isaac for about five years as he got carpentry work in Montreal. Thanks to my cousin Lois, I know a bit more about Yetta: She was a lively woman who knew how to laugh, she had a dog named Blackie, and she was particularly close to her sister Ida Mahler Volk.

Wedding Wednesday: "Father's Consent on File" for Elizabeth Rinehart

The probate court of Crawford County, OH is surely the most genealogy-friendly place in America. Less than a week ago, I sent for the marriage record of Edward George Steiner and Elizabeth Jane Rinehart, my hubby's maternal great-grandparents. Here's their application for a marriage license, received in my SASE just a couple of days later!

This application, dated 6 August 1851, was written out one day before the actual marriage on 7 August 1851.

Although it doesn't tell me who Edward and Elizabeth's parents are, it does say that Elizabeth was under the age of 18 (confirming birth info I found in later Census records). Her father had to consent to the marriage, which he did, as you can see from the notation at bottom left.

Best of all, this document puts to rest the question of how to spell Elizabeth's maiden name, sometimes shown as Reinhart.

The "marriage license" itself is a handwritten note in which P. Flack, M.G., (Minister of the Gospel) certifies that he "solemnized the marriage of Edward G. Steiner with Elizabeth Rinehart." 

2022 update: For more about these families, see my ancestor landing page here.

52 Weeks of Genealogy: Weather--Hot Town! Summer in the...

City. Both my mother (Daisy Schwartz) and my father (Harold Burk) grew up in New York City. They never owned a car and never lived anywhere but a city apartment.

New York was and is a hot town, in more ways than one. Summer in the city meant trying to get OUT of the city heat!

Of course air conditioning was a thing of the future, so they used box fans to cope with summertime heat. And they never slept on the fire escape, not once (nor did I, growing up in a Bronx apartment).

Sometimes my grandparents (Hermina Farkas and Theodore Schwartz) took a week or two off from their Bronx grocery store and rented a room in the "country" (upstate New York, anywhere from Spring Valley to the Catskill mountains). This photo shows my mother and her twin, Dorothy Schwartz (both in front row), with family members at a casual summer resort during the 1930s.

During the 1940s, when she was working as a secretary or typist and living with her parents in the Bronx, my mother made enough money to go to the Catskills or Adirondacks for a week or two to escape the blazing city heat. One year she made enough to go to ritzy Scaroon Manor on Schroon Lake, NY, partly to relax and partly to meet eligible bachelors. (I know this sounds like a typical genealogist's interpretation, but it's actually based on letters written to her by friends, asking about her vacation and any date possibilities.)

My father, who lived in Manhattan until he came back from WWII and met and married my mother, told of spending a summer day as a teen, picnicking with his family in the Bronx. This was in the 1920s, when the Bronx was "country" with farms, dairies, etc. It was an all-day outing to get from Manhattan to the Bronx, unpack and enjoy the picnic, pack everything up, and get back home. My memory of his memory is that the family made the day-journey in a horse-drawn conveyance of some sort. I suspect they used public transportation to get to the outskirts of the Bronx and then picked up a horse-drawn streetcar from there. Summer in the city? Get out (of town)!

Wordless Wednesday: The Steiner Sisters' Tea Party

Elizabeth Rinehart Steiner and her husband, Edward G. Steiner, had an all-girl family except for their only son (Orville, my Sympathy Saturday subject).

Here, four of the six sisters pose for a "tea party" photo. My sis-in-law thinks that Carrie, Floyda, Blanche (Etta), and Minnie are in this photo. This photo was probably taken after Addy (Addline) Steiner died in 1879, so the fifth sister shown must be the oldest, Margaret (Mary) Steiner (later Margaret Post).

Tuesday's Tip: Floyda's Hidden Past Proves the Power of Please and Patience

Above is the marriage license application and cert for Floyda Mabel Steiner and Brice Larimer McClure, married 10 June 1903 in Wyandot County, Ohio (Upper Sandusky, to be exact). They're my hubby's maternal grandparents. There's been some question about the exact names of the great-grandparents, so I wanted their marriage info just to be sure. I found out where and when they were married via Ancestry's Ohio marriage database. The next step was to get a copy of the documentation.

First tip: Ask nicely. I called the probate court, explained that I was doing genealogical research, and asked (pretty please) whether the marriage documents for 1903 were available. The answer was yes. Next, I asked how to apply for a copy and what the cost would be. Answer: Write a detailed letter, include a SASE, and include a dime for each copy. However, I was told to be patient, because genealogical requests have to wait their turn while more pressing business is attended to. I thanked the clerk for her time, hung up, and immediately wrote out my request.

Second tip: Be generous. I put two bucks into a small envelope and wrote "payment for processing" on the outside, and included that with my letter and SASE. It's a bargain, IMHO, when you consider the convenience.

The bottom line: One month later, my SASE showed up in the mail, with a certified copy (well, photocopy) of the log book where Floyda and Brice's marriage info is kept. Not only did it show their parents' names (spelling is still a question mark), it revealed that Floyda had been married before, to Mr. Gottfried. That's an intriguing development I'm going to investigate.* Thank you, Wyandot County!

PS - Crawford County, Ohio, is just as friendly as Wyandot. I called to ask about Floyda's parents' marriage documents (from 1851) and they said to go ahead and send a SASE and 50 cents for a copy. Of course I sent more--what a bargain!

*2022 update: I learned more about Floyda's ill-fated first marriage from divorce documents obtained later. She filed suit against him, alleging her first husband was mentally and emotionally abusive, threatened and belittled her. Eventually she actually won her case and was awarded alimony. She took back her maiden name until remarrying two years later. 

52 Weeks: Pets--Mittens the Mongrol Terrier

This is a guest post from hubby, Wally, about Mittens, his family's dog, who lived to the ripe old age of 17.

"When I was 6, my sister was 4, and my brother was an infant, my family picked Mittens from a litter of mongrol terriers that a neighbor's dog had. He was named Mittens (Mitty for short) because he had four white paws.

"Mittens was fearless--except for thunder. During a thunderstorm, he would come tearing into the kitchen, slipping on the linoleum, to crawl under the old-fashioned electric stove and hide.

"In the summers, when I'd ride off on my bicycle, Mittens would run alongside. When the family rode in the car, Mittens would sit on the back shelf of the Plymouth, his nose out the rear window.

"One time, after we had been out in the car with him (getting ice cream?), we all got back in the car and my father started to drive away. Several blocks later, when we stopped at a red light, a car pulled up beside us. The driver called out, "You know there's a dog chasing you?!" We'd forgotten Mittens and driven off without him, but he wouldn't let us get away!

"One Sunday, my mother opened the vegetable bin under the old-fashioned refrigerator, screamed, and slammed it shut. She'd seen a rat in it. We looked for the rat but found no sign of him. That evening, Mittens came down to the basement where I was playing, and began sniffing around. He kept trying to get behind a door that was leaning up against the wall. When I pulled it away from the wall to take a look, there was the rat.

"I immediately pushed one end of the door tight against the wall to trap the rat and Mittens went crazy at the other end until my father rushed downstairs to kill it. Mittens was barking, I was shouting, even the rat was making a racket. Looking back, I think Mittens was disappointed that he hadn't been able to get at the rat. Mongrol terriers were used as "ratters" in the old days, and Mitty certainly had those genes!"

52 Weeks of Genealogy: The Automat and More

The quintessential New York City "casual dining" experience during the 1950s was at one of the Horn & Hardart Automats. The last one in Manhattan was near the Daily News building on Third Avenue and 42nd Street, and I remember going there to enjoy the Art Deco ambiance, not just the food.

As discussed in a Smithsonian article and in a book called The Automat, the Automat was cavernous and self-serve, with reasonably-priced hot and cold meals as well as prepared food ready for takeout by hungry commuters on their way home.

Eat-in customers would get a handful of nickels from the change lady and pump a few nickels into the slots to buy . . . well, my friend Rich's favorite was applesauce cake. My absolute favorite was sticky buns. My twin sis remembers great mac 'n cheese (the recipe, cut to family proportions by food maven Arthur Schwartz, can be found here).

My first restaurant experience on my own was a trip to the local Chinese restaurant at the corner of 225th Street and White Plains Road in the Bronx, at the foot of the steps leading to the elevated subway stop. I was 11 when I met my classmate Linda Kelly at the restaurant one weekend afternoon (we were in 6th grade at PS 103 together). We read the menu and ordered "one from column A and one from column B" plus wonton soup and spare ribs. When the bill came, we each had just enough money to pay our half.

I went home feeling very grown up because my friend and I had dined out all on our own. Only later did my parents think to mention that people usually leave a tip after a meal. Oooooops. I'm certain that my father stopped into the restaurant and slipped a couple of dollars to the owner or waiter, along with his thanks for treating two young girls with dignity during their first "grown up" restaurant meal.

Sympathy Saturday - Orville J. Steiner of Ohio

Hubby's granduncle Orville J. Steiner died in August, 1936. Thanks to the Ohio History Store, I have his death cert, as you can see. So why is this a Sympathy Saturday item?

There's almost no personal info on this death cert, even though the informant is one of Orville's younger sisters, Carrie Steiner Traxler. For some reason, "unknown" is the father and "unknown" is mother's maiden name. 

And the info that appears on the death cert makes no sense. Orville was apparently married, but the name of his wife is "unknown." Poor Orville died of uremic poisoning, on top of chronic myocarditis. He was 80 and living in Marion, Ohio, not far from Carrie and other sisters, who lived in Upper Sandusky, Ohio.

I'm remembering him on Sympathy Saturday. **

** Update: I've just discovered more about Orville by tracking him back through the Census. In 1930, he was an "inmate" at an almshouse. My assumption (not proven) is that he was in the almshouse when he died, and the officials listed his next of kin as the "informant" without actually consulting her about details such as Orville's parents' names. He really has my sympathy now. 

2022 update: I've been in touch with Orville's descendants, who say he had some kind of chronic illness that required long-term care. 

Talented Tuesday: James Edgar Wood, Cleveland Builder

James Edgar Wood, hubby's paternal grandfather, was a builder in Cleveland, Ohio. He would often build a home, move his family in as he finished the inside, and start on another home.

Once the next home was built, he'd sell the one he was living in and move to the newer home. My late father-in-law remembers living in a succession of homes as a child.

James built homes on Wood Road in Cleveland, named after him.

In photo at top left, you can just make out the sign that says "James E. Wood, Carpenter and Builder." That's him at the front gate, next to his wife, Mary Slatter Wood. I'm tracing the Slatters right now, as noted in yesterday's Military Monday posting.

Photo at bottom left probably shows two of James Edgar Wood's four sons standing in front of a house their father built, but since it's undated, we're not sure which two.

Military Monday: Capt. Slatter at Camp Borden, Ontario

This is Captain Slatter*, who is related (somehow) to my husband's grandmother Mary Slatter Wood. The reverse of this photo, handed down in the family, has a handwritten notation:

Camp Borden, Ont. 1917

Standing outside my tent

I only put my kilt on for special occasions in camp as it is so dusty with sand blowing all day.

Capt. Slatter's hat is the same as he's wearing in the earlier photo below, taken in Toronto, where he has on a dress kilt and is holding a baton. (A bandmaster?) 

Camp Borden was the WWI training grounds of Canada's Royal Flying Corps. Mary and her brothers John, Albert, and Harry Slatter (and sister Mrs. James F. Baker) came from England to Winnipeg, and the rest stayed in Canada. Exactly who Captain Slatter is, I can't tell (yet). Mary died in 1925 and her obit mentions her sister and three brothers.*

Thanks to Darcy, whose comment is below, the mystery of the uniform is solved: This appears to be of the 48th Highlanders of Toronto. I've written the 48th, with the photos, to ask for confirmation. A very good start! Darcy, your help is much appreciated.

*Update: This is most definitely renowned bandmaster Captain John Daniel Slatter. The 48th Highlanders identified him for me! See my later post here. For more, including the answers to my questions in this early post, go to the Slatter family landing page at top of this blog.

Sunday's Obit: John Andrew Wood, b. Cleveland, d. Michigan City, IN

John Andrew Wood was one of my hubby's paternal uncles (the others were Theodore "Ted" Wood and Wallis Walter Wood). When John died in 1980, the only surviving sibling was Edgar James Wood, my hubby's father.

After the funeral, John's widow sent this obit and memorial card to her brother-in-law Edgar and his wife Marian (my hubby's parents) along with a note: "Thank you so much for the flowers-but especially for your lovely note. The funeral was very simple and plain, just as Jack requested. I'm sorry you couldn't be three but as we agreed, it would have been a little too much." 

2022 update: I'm looking for John Andrew Wood in the 1950 US Census. 

Surname Saturday: Steiner in Wyandot County, Ohio

My husband's grandmother was Floyda Mabel Steiner, born 20 March 1878 in Nevada, Ohio. Floyda married Brice Larimer McClure and had one child, Marian Jane McClure, my mother-in-law (who I never met, sad to say).

She had no birth cert, apparently, and went to court in 1944 to have her birth registered through the testimony of her older sisters, Carrie Steiner Traxler and Etta Blanche Steiner Rhuark of Upper Sandusky, Ohio.

Thanks to the Ohio History Store, operated by the Ohio Historical Society, I ordered Floyda's brother Orville Steiner's death cert. This will help me with their parents' names, which are variously shown as Edward George Steiner (or George Edward Steiner) and Elizabeth Jane Rinehart Steiner.

I talked about the Steiners in my earlier post about the handwritten names/dates on the back of the McClure Shade Shop business card. Now it's time to pin down more specifics!

Wisdom Wednesday: 5 Things to Do Before I Become an Ancestor (Update)

Last year I wrote about the 5 genealogy things I have to do before I (gulp) become an ancestor. Now it's time to update the list with a slightly different take on the 5 "must do" genealogy tasks:

1. Document the most important things (and don't count on technology). The genealogist(s) of the next generation may not be able to figure out who's who and what's what, even with the Census photocopies and other notes in my files. Whoever comes after me may not know (or care) how to use my genealogy software and they sure won't be able to access my Mozy backups. That's why I'm creating and printing pedigree charts and family info NOW, this week. Each major family has a file folder in my cabinet and some major figures in each family have their own folders within folders. But if there are no pedigree charts, a system that makes sense to me may not make sense to the next genealogist. So I'm putting the basics into print and sending a copy to interested family members, with extra copies in my files.
2. Keep putting labels on photos. I've made a good start. Nearly all my photos are in archival plastic sleeves. But I feel strongly about telling the stories that go with the photos (see #3 below) and that's slowing me down. I've been scanning each photo and writing up a couple of paragraphs about it. After all, that's the only way that the little girl who was 18 months old in a family photo will know that we were gathered for a certain holiday, that her dress was hand-made by her mother, that great-uncle Joe had just died, and her grandmother was too ill to be present. Small details, I know, but they bring family history alive and they put the basic facts into a context. And, because others may not know how to use my Picasa photo software, where I've carefully named each scanned photo, I need to print out the photo with the story and file it where it can be found.
3. Tell the stories. What did my ancestors value? What did they aspire to? What made them cry or laugh? Why did they leave their hometowns and move across the state or around the world? What else was happening around them that affected their lives? I know some (not all) of the answers...and I'm compelled to tell the stories. Maybe my nieces have a vague understanding of WWII, but they don't know much about what their grandpa did in the war and why he was busted to private more than once. The stories show what kind of guy grandpa was! And when I tell a story to a family member, it's possible that that relative may know another part of the story or have a different take on the situation. So keep telling the stories.
4. Reopen the search for key ancestors. Three years ago, I conducted an intensive search to determine whether William Madison McClure and his father Benjamin McClure are definitely my husband's ancestors. With the help of a genealogy angel who had some key local history books, I concluded that they were "very probably" family members. It's time to reopen the search, write away for more info if necessary and available, and either put them on the pedigree charts or find out who belongs there. The McClures are high on my "to do" list for 2011. And I have other holes in the family tree to plug, of course.
5. Stay in touch. It was on my previous list and it's still on my list this time around. Last fall, my 2d cousin Lois found me through this blog and we've met and corresponded. Plus she introduced me to our 2d cousin Lil! The joy of genealogy is in meeting cousins and widening the family circle, IMHO. Blogging is wonderful cousin bait--and I mean that in the best way possible. If a cousin I haven't found does an online search for our family name and lands on my blog, I'll be thrilled, and I'll stay in touch.

52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy--Sports: Rooftops, Subways, and Skating

How about this as a sport: Leaping from rooftop to rooftop without a safety net.

My Dad, Harold Burk, grew up in Manhattan at a time when cars were becoming more common. In addition to dodging traffic to play stick ball (a kind of street softball), he and his friends would dare each other to leap across the rooftops of the 6 or 8 story tenements in their neighborhood. Luckily, he was sure-footed. (When he told me this story, he seemed a bit amazed that he had survived--me too!)

Dad (shown at left, graduating from elementary school) grew up, served in WWII, came home, married Mom (Daisy Schwartz), and had a family. As long as I can remember, he was a rabid Yankees fan. Since we lived in the Bronx, a subway ride away from Yankee Stadium, he'd take my twin and me and our little sister to games several times each summer.

Sometimes the tickets would come from his travel agent connections, and we'd wind up in the box seats behind home plate, with a great view of catcher Elston Howard's back and a chance to hear Mickey Mantle or Roger Maris's bat sock the ball out of the park. We saw many of the Yankee greats of the 1950s and 1960s, way too many to name.

We savvy local fans knew what to do when the ball game got down to the middle of the 9th inning. If the score wasn't close, we would scamper out of our seats, exit the stadium, and run up the stairs to the elevated subway alongside the stadium, subway token in hand. Standing on the subway platform overlooking the ball field gave us a perfect place to watch the final out. Sometimes the subway train would idle there for a moment, waiting for the out (conductors and motormen were fans too) and then we'd jump inside the train as the doors closed, whisked away before the other fans were even out of their seats.

Today my spectator sport of choice is figure skating. It's a great sport to watch on TV when your hubby is out skiing. And it's even better to see live, at a rink where Olympic champs train (Alexei Yagudin has startingly blue eyes up close!) or at an international competition. My most memorable skate world moment was in 2003, watching Shen and Zhao win pairs gold at the World Figure Skating Championships in Washington, D.C., skating to Turandot. Below, I'm at SkateAmerica in 2006, next to Ina and Zimmerman's poster, with a stuffed toy in my jacket to throw onto the ice as a tribute to the skater I like the best.

Surname Saturday - Pietroniro of Casacalenda, Italy

Piacentino (Peter) Pietroniro, my step-children's grandfather, came from Casacalenda, Campobasso, Italy. But that's as far as we could go with his genealogy. Until now, thanks to Susan, a very kind genealogy angel, and the efficient Casacalenda officials.

After attending a talk by Toni McKeen about obtaining genealogical records from Italy, I wrote to the town officials of Casacalenda, requesting Peter's birth record and his family status record, if possible.

Today I received this extract of Peter's birth record. We already knew his birthday was February 27, 1901. What we had to determine was his parents' names. And now I know for sure that he's the son of Giovanni Antonio Pietroniro and Maria Teresa Mansi!

Susan looked up many Casacalenda records for me and found Peter's siblings plus his family four generations back in Italy. She also explained a bit about the area and why young men would leave in the 1920s (to find work). Thank you, Susan! And thank you, Casacalenda officials, for speeding this birth extract to me in only three weeks. Here's a sketch of Casacalenda from its site:

Knowing Peter's parents allowed me to prepare detailed pedigree charts (downloaded for free from Misbach!) and show my step-children much more about their genealogical background on both sides of the family.

Now there are more Pietroniro mysteries to unravel: Peter came over with his brother, Paolo (Paul) Pietroniro. Paul settled in Canada with his wife Filomena and their children. Possibly there are Pietroniro cousins out there?

Those Places Thursday: James Monroe HS, Bronx, NY

My mother, Daisy (Schwartz) Burk, and her twin sister, Dorothy, attended James Monroe High School in the Bronx, at the northern tip of the Soundview section. Wikipedia says the school opened in 1924, so my guess is the first school year ended in 1925 (according to the year on the school's seal, at left).

Today the building houses a number of small, specialized public schools, but it was originally one huge high school, drawing from many Bronx neighborhoods. It awarded academic diplomas, general diplomas, practical arts diplomas, and commercial diplomas.

Mom and Auntie graduated in January, 1936 (see bottom, where their names are listed in the graduation program she saved). They were just 16. Mom immediately looked for work. Her older brother Fred had gone to college (one of the free City University of NY colleges) but there was only enough money for one more to go to college, so Auntie went (to another free City University of NY college) and Mom didn't. Both Fred and Dorothy went on to earn a  doctorate degree. To see Mom and Auntie's yearbook photos, click:

View post on imgur.com

Mom, who could have done the course work in her teens, only finished a couple of years of college by the time she went at night as a working mom in her 50s. The math and science courses were, by that time, beyond her. She loved the literature courses most of all!

Matrilineal Monday: Mary Amanda Demarest, Where Were You Born?

 

Mary Amanda Demarest married Thomas Haskell Wood in New Orleans in 1845, when she was 14 years old. Cousin Larry, our Wood family genealogist, has records of her marriage, her children, and her burial, but Mary Amanda's exact birthplace and date -- and her parents -- remain a mystery. She seems to have been born in New York City in 1831 (according to death cert, etc).

Last month, at cousin Larry's suggestion, I checked the records of the Reformed Dutch Church of Greenwich, New York City, where many Demarests were members. Alas, no Mary Amanda. But there were these three records of children adopted by Mary Van Orden Demarest, as you can see from the above excerpts from transcribed church ledgers.

This discovery has led to a new line of thinking: Maybe Mary Amanda was adopted into the Demarest family? Her birth record wouldn't show up as Mary Amanda Demarest. Of course this is only a theory. More research is in our future!

2022 update: No progress after all these years. The parents of Mary Amanda Demarest are still not proven. 

52 Weeks - Spring: Playgrounds, Blue Grass, and Earrings

The Bronx was like suburbia in the 1950s, believe it or not. We lived in an apartment building 1 block from Bronx Park adjacent to the Bronx River in the Northeast Bronx. This park district is now known as "Shoelace Park." By the 1980s, it had become known informally as "Needle Park" and wasn't safe day or night, I understand. (I had moved away long before.)

But back in my day, it was pretty and green and a world apart from the bustle of the city that was a subway ride away.

My mom, Daisy Burk, would pull out the baby buggy every spring, tuck my baby sister Harriet in with a hand-crocheted afghan, and take my twin Isabel and me for a stroll in the park. She wore the fragrance Blue Grass, by Arden, her favorite. (My sister  especially loved that fragrance and the childhood memories it evoked.)

First stop on our Bronx Park spring stroll was "The Circle" aka "The Horse Shoe," a group of benches arranged inside a horse-shoe-shaped stone fence within the park. The moms would sit on benches under the trees while we kids played. Sometimes we'd ride our bikes round and round the circle. Sometimes we'd explore the "woods" outside the bench area.

Another favorite stop was the playground, at E. 227th Street in Bronx Park. In the summer, this playground had free arts 'n' crafts activities for kids and bug-juice (colored sugar water, it tasted like) for a snack. Here's a pair of earrings that one of we twins made for our mom. Unfortunately, these were for pierced ears and hers weren't pierced, but she kept them forever and now I have them in my jewelry box, a treasured memento of Mom and those crafty days.

My twin Izzi just reminded me of one more favorite activity in the playground above--playing King/Queen (a kind of street handball) against one of the retaining walls. Each box was a lower rank, starting from the left. I remember our personal twist on this game. King, Queen, Jack, 10, and then . . . Toilet Bowl, the lowest rank :)

Wordless Wednesday: Ex Prohibito Concubitu

 Looking for my hubby's great-grandmother's birth, I came across this page from the transcribed records of the Reformed Dutch Church at Greenwich (New York City).

Great-grandma was Mary Amanda Demarest, not Pamelia Ann Demarest (see last entry in the photo). However, Mary Amanda's parents and early years remain a mystery, even though cousin Larry (our family's super-genealogist) has been searching for more than a decade.

Baby girl Demarests born in 1831 in New York City are of interest to us, since that was Great-grandma's year and place of birth. And looking for Mary Amanda Demarest led me to stumble across Pamelia Ann Demarest, born in 1831, in the church records.

Pamelia Ann was born ex prohibito concubitu which, a professional genealogist explained, meant her parents weren't allowed to marry. Having never seen or heard this phrase before, I was wordless for a moment (rare for me).

Was the parents' relationship too close (first cousins, for example, or even closer)? Was the father or mother already married? Was the mother (or father) too young to marry? Note that no father was listed, and the baby was adopted. It's also a legal issue: This child can't inherit.

But there's more to the Demarest mystery. I'll save that for another day!

Motivation Monday: Grand Reopening

Thanks to Betty's Boneyard, I received the "One Lovely Blog" award. That got me thinking: Wasn't it time to spruce up my blog's picture window? So I did a little tidying up this weekend and came up with this new look. Welcome to my grand reopening! And thank you, Betty, for the little push I needed to get motivated.

Looking back, all these little things do add up. Thank you so much for reading. 

Saturday Shopping: Hardy Boys in Cleveland Heights

This is a guest post from my hubby, Wally, about his experiences as a 13-year-old (late 1940s) in Cleveland Heights, OH.

"The corner drug store--2 blocks from my home--was the neighborhood club house. In addition to being a pharmacy, it sold magazines, cigarettes/cigars, candy, and had a soda fountain (about that, more in a later post).

"I would stand at the magazine display reading comic books ("Captain Marvel," "Wonder Woman," "Classics Comics") and I suspect that the pharmacist, to distract me (and to save his comics from being dog-eared!), hired me (at age 13) to mop the floor, deliver prescriptions on my bicycle, and sort redeemed soda bottles. I worked a few days after school and on Saturdays.

"When word of my working got back to Monticello Jr High in Cleveland Heights, the principal told me I was too young to be working and that I'd be 'pushing up daisies' before I was 21. I ignored him.

"The pharmacist-owner paid me $5 per week. I spent most of it on Hardy Boys books. To get to the nearest bookstore, I had to take a bus or two and ride for at least half an hour--on my own. I remember feeling really pleased: A Hardy Boys' book may have been the very first book I bought for myself (and it's not the last, by far!). I think the books were $2.95 apiece.

"Over the months, I gradually accumulated the first 23 books in the series. The ostensible author was Franklin W. Dixon but I learned, as an adult, that the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew books were the products of the Stratemeyer Syndicate, churned out by different writers. I grew up, joined the Army, and my mother eventually threw out or gave away my Hardy Boys collection. I never missed it."

Treasure Chest Thursday: The Brussels Bag

In 1958, my Uncle Sidney Burk flew to Belgium to visit the World's Fair. (Being a travel agent like his older brother--my Dad--he probably got a special deal.)

My parents asked him to bring back something special for me, my twin, and our younger sister. This evening bag is one of the two gifts he brought back for me.

It must have cost the earth, even at that time. It's velvet, with intricate metallic-thread embroidery. Size is 7 1/2 by 4 12 inches. I rarely take it out of its box these days, but I did use it for special occasions years ago.

The other gift Uncle Sidney brought back was a doll in Belgium costume, sitting in a chair and making lace--real lace, not the machine kind we buy in stores today. It was the kind of doll that is put on a high shelf where it can be admired but not played with.

Alas, I always liked to inspect that lace up close, being a needlework fan even then (my mother and grandmother loved to stitch and I learned to crochet before going to kindergarten). After 8 years or so of being closely examined, the doll and the lace somehow separated and eventually the doll became so spindly that I had to say goodbye. Decades later, the memory of that doll and my beautiful Brussels bag bring back the exotic glamor and excitement of my uncle's trip to Belgium.

One Lovely Blog - So Many Blogs, So Little Time

Many of the blogs I'd like to honor with the "One Lovely Blog" award have already been recognized by others. So I'm going to list just five that haven't yet received the award but are very worthwhile reading for genealogy enthusiasts.

Thank you to these bloggers for taking the time to share their ideas and take us along on their journeys!

• Margel's 2338 Washington Blvd

• Linda's Documenting the Details

• Susan's Long Lost Relatives

• Jenna's Desperately Seeking Surnames

• Cindy's Genealogy By Cindy

One Lovely Blog Award - Thank you!

Betty of Betty's Boneyard Genealogy Blog was kind enough to honor me with the "One Lovely Blog" award.

Researching the award's background, I learned that Sara of "Works of Art by Sara" started it.

Her original rules for the award were as follows:

1. Accept the award and post it on your blog together with the name of the person who granted the award and their blog link.
2. Pass the award on to 7 or more blogs that you like.
3. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.


The award, adapted for genealogy blogs, now refers to 7 newly-discovered gen blogs that deserve the "One Lovely Blog" award. I'll post my 7 very shortly.

Thank you again, Betty, for bestowing this award on my blog!

Sunday's Obituary - Mrs. Brice Larimer McClure, Nov. 2, 1948

My late mother-in-law (who, sadly, I never met), saved her mother's obit...and someone saved her mother's wedding notice, shown at bottom, as well. Both are from a newspaper in Upper Sandusky, Ohio, where much of the family lived. Throughout the obit, Mrs. McClure's husband's name was spelled incorrectly as "Bruce" but his name was Brice, as I show here. 

Historical note: Floyda, according to the obit, was a member of the "D of A" which apparently was the Daughters of America, a "Junior Order of the United American Mechanics." Since Floyda's husband Brice was a mechanic, this makes sense. By the time she became a member, I hope the group had given up its anti-immigrant mission and was then an insurance/fraternal aid organization.

Mrs. B. L. McClure Dies Early Today

Services to be held Friday from Funeral Home Here

Mrs. Brice L. McClure, 70, of 119 East Finley Street, passed away at 1 o'clock this Tuesday morning at Bucyrus City hospital following an illness of one week. Death was attributed to a cerebral hemorrhage.

Born in Nevada [OH] March 30, 1978, Floyda Mabel (Steiner) McClure was the daughter of Edward and Elizabeth (Rinehart) Steiner.

June 10, 1903, she was united in marriage in Upper Sandusky with Brice L. McClure, who survives with one daughter, Marian [my late mother-in-law], wife of Edgar Wood of Cleveland [my late father-in-law].

Also surviving are three grandchildren, Wallis [my hubby], Richard, and Barbara Wood and two sisters, Mrs.  F. W. Rhuark and Mrs. Carrie Traxler, both of this city. Two sisters and one brother are deceased.

Mrs. McClure was a member of the Methodist church and of the Eastern Star lodge in this city and of the D. of A. in Cleveland. She and her husband had resided here for the past four years, coming from Cleveland, where she also leaves many friends.


She was a good neighbor and very active in church and community affairs.

Funeral services will be conducted Friday at 2 pm from the Bringman & Co. funeral home here. Rev. Cecil F. Fogle will officiate with interment in Old Mission cemetery.

The body will remain at the funeral home where friends may call after noon Wednesday.

--
Here's Floyda Mabel Steiner McClure's wedding announcement, from June 10, 1903. Floyda's father, Edward Steiner, was dead but her mother, Elizabeth Steiner, was present at the ceremony.

M'Clure-Steiner

-

Quiet Wedding at Home of Auditor Halbedel Wednesday Morning.

The scene of a happy event was the residence of County Auditor and Mrs. E.N. Halbedel, on Fifth Street, on Wednesday morning, when Miss Floyda Steiner quietly entered matrimony with B.L. McClure of Wabash, Ind. The ceremony was performed at 9 o'clock by Rev. P. Langendorff, pastor of St. Paul's Church, in the presence of the bride's mother and the families of Auditor Halbedel and Auditor-Elect J.N. Traxler. Mrs. Halbedel served a splendid dinner at 11 o'clock. Mr. and Mrs. McClure departed on the afternoon Hocking passenger via Marion for Wabash, Ind., where they will reside and be at home to their friends after July 1. The bride, a sister of Mrs. Halbedel and Mrs. J.N. Traxler, is highly esteemed in this city, and the best wishes of many friends accompany the young couple to Wabash, where Mr. McClure, whose acquaintance impresses sterling character, is employed as a machinist in the Big Four shops.

52 Weeks - Movies - "Mr Sardonicus" and "Mothra"

The Laconia was my local movie theater, located under the elevated subway line running along White Plains Road in the Northeast Bronx. One of the earliest movies I remember seeing without my parents (but with my twin, thank goodness!) was Mr. Sardonicus.

If you haven't heard of it, there's a good reason: It's a horror movie and not even a good one. But it was Saturday afternoon, and there were cartoons as well as two movies (who remembers the other feature?), so sis and I sat and shivered and probably had nightmares about Baron Sardonicus's grotesque face.

Far better -- and from the same year -- was Mothra, a Japanese monster movie that comes to mind because it deals with the aftermath of atomic radiation. It was a favorite movie of my childhood and decades later I still remember the foot-high twins who summoned Mothra to help them. Oh, if only Mothra could help Japan now.

52 Weeks: Illness, Injury - Mouth full of metal

"Look ma, no cavities!" Remember that ad slogan (named by Advertising Age as one of the most memorable of the 20th century)? Crest put fluoride into toothpaste and presto, no more cavities.

Well, fluoride came too late for me and my teeth. Not long ago, a young relative noticed my mouth full of metal (while I was laughing out loud, of course) and asked what it was all about.

I explained that, in the brief period after dinosaurs ruled the earth and before American Idol and Dancing with the Stars ruled the airwaves, the technology for sealing teeth and keeping them healthy hadn't yet been invented.

Instead, when a tooth broke (try explaining cavities to a 4 year old), the dentist would fill the hole with metal. Put that way, the process sounds medieval, doesn't it?

She took one last look, nodded that she understood, and that was the end of that. I bet she brushed extra long that night!

Fearless Females - 6-word tribute to Tillie Rose Jacobs Mahler

My Fearless Female tribute to great-grandma Tillie:

Brave, long-lived matriarch with heart

I was a baby when Tillie died but she touched the lives of everyone in my family. If she hadn't come to America with her husband Meyer, we wouldn't be who we are. She was brave!

Sentimental Sunday: Cherry Blossom Time in Japan

The news about Japan's devastation is so disturbing that I hereby interrupt my regularly-scheduled genealogy blog to remember a trip there, just four years ago, during beautiful cherry blossom season (late March into early April).

Above is one of the most unforgettable moments--standing in a park during a "cherry blossom blizzard"--that's when cherry blossoms fall off the trees and are carried on the wind, scenting the air as they swirl all around you.

And here's another unforgettable moment: attending a baseball game in which the Yokohama Bay Stars beat the Yakult Swallows. The relief pitcher for the Bay Stars was a fast-ball specialist from the Bronx (my home town) revered for his speed and his ability to pull out a win, which he did that evening. Above, sis and I emulate his pitching stance.

Japan is in our thoughts and prayers.

Fearless Females: Grandma worked as a "finisher" on fine ties

On Monday, February 21, 1977, my mother (Daisy Burk) wrote me a letter about her family's background, which--happily--I kept even though I wasn't as crazed about genealogy then as I am now (!).

My question was prompted by the repeat of the Roots miniseries. Here's some of what Mom wrote about her mother, Hermina Farkas Schwartz:

"I remember Mom telling us that some relative 'did her a favor' for $2.50 a week; she became a finisher on fine ties and worked about 12 hrs. a day and between her and her father [Moritz Farkas] they couldn't earn enough for the family; but she always said she had a good relationship with her father, which was a comfort to her all her life. She became a citizen on his papers (common then, not permitted now) and went to night school for awhile to learn to read and write [English]. She still figured in Hungarian, all her life, though.

"Mom wasn't permitted to do dishes or laundry when she worked because her hands would become too rough for the fine materials she handled; but there was a sewing machine and she did her share at home by sewing for the household. And after she was married she had the girls [her younger sisters] come one at a time to visit (and take care of my brother Fred after he was born) so she could make clothes for them to enable them to go to school here. She never forgot; but I don't ever remember anyone of her sisters mentioning this. I know her 2 bachelor brothers, Julius and Peter, had hard times and she always poured money into their hands when they needed things. Of course, when she and Pop [my grandfather, Theodore Schwartz] needed to open a new store, they gave generously also, I'll say that, too."

Update 2022: The man who did grandma a favor was a Roth cousin who owned a necktie factory. Many other relatives worked for him when they arrived as new immigrants in New York City!

Grandma when she was young (in Hungary?)

52 Weeks- Disasters? Just the Usual, So Counting My Blessings

This week's challenge is "disasters" and I have to say, my family hasn't had any particularly unusual disasters. Let's leave aside WWII for the moment, of course. The disasters that made a big difference to my parents were more personal than environmental:

• My father Harold Burk's first heart attack was a disaster (for his health and for our family's finances). He lived nearly 20 years after that first attack, I'm happy to say.
• The Savoy Hilton Hotel in NYC being pulled down so the GM building could go up, another disaster--because my father lost his travel agency concession and never was able to secure another one, a devastating financial blow.
• My mother Daisy Burk's cancer was a disaster (she lived only 3 years after her diagnosis).

Despite these disasters, this week I'm counting my blessings. I have a wonderful extended family (that's getting larger all the time--now that I've met Cousin Lois and Cousin Lil, descended from Meyer and Tillie Mahler, my pat g-grandparents). And I'm counting my blessings that I have a bit of time and energy to trace back my ancestors and those of my extended family.

Right now I'm on the trail of the Pietroniro family from Casacalenda, Italy. Piacentino (Peter) Pietroniro and his brother Paolo (Paul) came from Italy to New York City on the Taormina on July 10, 1923. Paul went to Montreal, Peter went back and forth between Montreal and Cleveland and ultimately settled in Cleveland, marrying Anna Yurko (whose father I mentioned in my last blog entry). More info to come, I hope!

Wordless Wednesday - Josef Yurkov

This morning I made a discovery: Naturalization petitions are now available online for Joseph (Josef) Yurko (Yurkov) and his wife Anna, my step-children's maternal great-grandparents.

Thanks to the petition, I know that Josef was born in Hazlen, Czechoslovakia on May 7, 1873 and he was married to his wife, Ann Mary, in that town on Nov. 18, 1896. Josef and Ann had 7 children. The oldest, John, was born in 1899 in Czechoslovakia. All the others were born in Ohio, including Anna, my step-children's grandmother.

None of us had ever seen a photo of Josef, so this one (from his petition) is a first--leaving me almost wordless!

Matrilineal Monday - Henrietta Mahler Burk, Mogul?

Today is International Women's Day and I'm thinking about the women in my family tree. Henrietta Mahler Burk, my pat gmother, was quite a determined woman. Here she is with three of her four children: Mildred (left), my Aunt Millie; Miriam (in Henrietta's arms), my aunt; and Harold, at right, my father. At this time, boys might wear dresses such as this and have their hair long until their first haircut. The date of this photo must be after 1911 because that's when Miriam was born.

Henrietta crossed from US to Canada and back several times after she married Isaac in 1906 because he had found work in Montreal, Canada. In fact, my Uncle Sidney, the youngest of their children, was born in Montreal. Henrietta accomplished this long-distance travel by herself until 1915, with her young children by her side. That's determination.

Now here's why I'm focusing on Henrietta Mahler Burk for Matrilineal Monday: In 1931, my father Harold applied for a "fidelity bond" so he could be a transportation clerk at the Park Central Hotel in New York City. This was his first step toward becoming an independent travel agent. But because travel agents were responsible for blank airline tickets--which could be stolen or forged--they and their employees were required to be bonded.

My father applied to the Metropolitan Casualty Insurance Co for his bond. I have the application! He lists his address as 1580 Crotona Park East in the Bronx, and lists all his employers from Jan. 1926 to Oct. 1931. He'd worked for a summer at the Larchmont Yacht Club, been a runner for a Wall Street firm, and somehow was now seeking a job at the Park Central Hotel's travel agent concession.

Asked about his relatives, he lists "Isaac Burk" (his father) and shows Isaac's financial worth as $250. His mother, "Henrietta Burk," has (according to Dad) a net worth of $350. So if Dad is correct, Henrietta was wealthier than her husband. And this, during the Depression! Wealthiest of all, however, is Dad, if his application is to be believed. He lists $100 in cash and $400 in "building & loan association." Sorry, I simply don't believe any of his figures. My guess is that the entire family, combined, might have had that amount in savings.

And by the way, the references Dad lists on this application include:

• Louis Volk, businessman, 3150 Rochambeau Ave., Bronx, NY (in reality, Louis is Harold's uncle)
• Joseph Markel, salesman, 3235 Rochambeau Ave., Bronx, NY (in reality, Joseph is Harold's uncle)
• Jack Mendelowitz, school teacher, 1580 Crotona Park E., Bronx, NY (a neighbor)