Prague and Terezin

Posted on June 5, 2015 by Amy

If our first day or so in Prague felt like a bit of a fairy tale, our second day had nothing magical about, just a lot of ghosts wherever we turned. We had a new guide that day, Helena from Wittman Tours, a company that specializes in Jewish heritage tours of Prague and the surrounding area, including the concentration camp in Terezin. We had heard good things about the company from friends at home, so chose to use one of their guides for our second full day in Prague. Helena was another excellent guide, and she was able to provide us with another person’s perspective on Prague.

Helena, like Andrea, was a Czech native and had lived in Prague for many years. When she told us that she was Jewish, I asked her about her family’s experience during the Holocaust. Helena said that although her parents had never discussed the matter in any detail with her, she knew that somehow they had been able to obtain falsified papers giving them a Christian identity. Like so many survivors, her parents preferred not to discuss those years, and thus Helena knew only those bare facts.

According to Helena, Prague had a Jewish community very early in its history, though many settlers came and left, depending on the economic and political situation. There was a Jewish community as early as the tenth century, living near the Castle and the marketplace there. Although that community was wiped out during the Crusades in the 12^th century, there was then a new community growing on the other side of the river near what is now called Old Town, where in the 13^th century the oldest still-existing synagogue was built, referred to as the Old-New Synagogue. That synagogue is still providing religious services to this day. It is claimed to be the oldest surviving synagogue in Europe.

Old-New Synagogue, Prague

Entrance to prayer hall in Old New Synagogue

It was humbling to be in this synagogue, thinking of its long history. Although it lacked the awesome size and height of the St. Vitus Cathedral and of some of the other synagogues we saw in the Jewish Quarter of Prague, it was moving to think about Jewish men (women prayed behind a thick stone wall with only a small hole to see into the main sanctuary) almost 800 years ago praying in this space. Jews then lived in a ghetto, separated from the rest of the city by walls, and they faced anti-Semitism and periods of expulsion and then return, but were generally successful merchants and bankers and important contributors to the economy of the city.

At services women sit behind the wall where the opening is shown here (not where this woman is seated)

The second oldest of the synagogues we saw in Prague was the Pinkas Synagogue, built in the early part of the 16^th century. Today it operates as a museum to educate people about the Jewish religion, its holidays and rituals, and does not operate as a place of religious services.

Pinkas Synagogue, Prague

Immediately outside the synagogue is the oldest Jewish cemetery in Prague, so crowded with the remains of about 200,000 Jewish residents that the headstones are tumbled together and, according to Helena, are buried as many as twelve deep, one on top of the other.

Old Jewish cemetery, Prague

There is also a building for the chevra kadisha (burial society) on the cemetery grounds, including a balcony where the Cohanim stood since they were not allowed to enter the cemetery. (According to Jewish law, the Cohanim, the priestly tribe descended from Aaron, are not to defile themselves by touching or going close to a dead body.)

chevra kadisha building

Cohanim symbol

Cohanim balcony

These ancient stones and their placement and inscriptions are evidence of what once was a crowded Jewish neighborhood within the ghetto walls, a community that was observant of Jewish laws and forced to live separately from their Christian neighbors.

In the 1500s Prague had one of the largest Jewish populations in Europe. Other synagogues were built, including a synagogue built by one of the wealthiest residents of Prague, Mordecai Maisel, as his own private synagogue. According to Helena, Maisel was friendly with the reigning king, Rudolf II, and was an important merchant and property owner in Prague. Maisel was also very friendly with Rabbi Judah Loew, a leading rabbi as well as a writer, best known for his rendition of the Golem legend. Both Maisel and Rabbi Loew are buried in the Old Cemetery, their graves marked by large tent-like structures instead of plain headstones. We were not able to get inside the Maisel synagogue as it is closed for renovations, but we were able to take some photographs of the exterior.

Maisel Synagogue, Prague

Maisel’s tombstone

Rabbi Loew’s tombstone

The newest synagogue we saw in the Jewish Quarter was the magnificent Spanish Synagogue. Despite its name, the synagogue had nothing to do with Spain nor were its congregants Sephardic. Rather the name refers to the Moorish designs that decorate both the exterior and the interior of the synagogue. This synagogue was built in the second half of the 19^th century and still offers services on Friday nights, attracting many tourists.

Spanish Synagogue, Prague

Seeing this synagogue made me realize just how prosperous the Jewish community must have been in the 19^th century. The lavish and ornate wall coverings are indicative of the resources available to the Jewish residents. In fact, Jews were granted equal rights around this time, and the ghetto walls came down, allowing Jews to move out of the Jewish Quarter.

Many moved to the New Town area, where yet another impressive synagogue was built in the early 20^th century, the Jerusalem Synagogue. We later visited this synagogue on our own, and although we did not get inside, we were once again dazzled by the colorful and elaborately designed exterior, which also reflects Moorish influence.

Jerusalem Synagogue, Prague

Helena told us that once the Jews were allowed to move out of the ghetto, most left if they could afford to do so, leaving behind only those too poor to move. Poor Christians then moved into the area where the ghetto had existed, and because of the poverty, conditions deteriorated, leading to severe sanitary and health problems. Eventually the city tore down the old buildings in an early form of urban renewal, replacing the older homes with the fancy Art Nouveau buildings that line the streets today. The streets were widened, and the whole character of the former ghetto disappeared. For the most part, only the synagogues survived.

Newer buildings in what was once the ghetto

Wider streets in what was once the ghetto

Then the Nazis arrived in the late 1930s and 1940s, and what had been a large and thriving Jewish community of over 90,000 people, amounting to about 20% of the city’s overall population, was destroyed. The synagogue buildings survived only because the Nazis found them useful for storing their supplies and horses. Most of the Jews who had lived in Prague were killed. Today there are fewer than 2000 Jews living in Prague.

Seeing the Jewish Quarter and learning about its history helped place into context what we saw in the afternoon when we went to Terezin. As we drove to Terezin, Helena told us about the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich, the SS officer who is considered to have been one of the principal planners of the Final Solution, the Nazi plan for exterminating the world’s Jewish population. He also was appointed as the SS officer responsible for overseeing the occupation of Czechoslovakia during the war and the creation of the Terezin concentration camp. In May, 1942, two Czech resistance members attacked Heydrich’s car and assassinated him. As revenge, the Nazis selected the town of Lidice, claiming it was the home of the assassins, and completed erased it from the face of the earth, killing all the men, deporting all the women and children, and razing all the buildings. As Helena said, when people learned what had happened, they thought it could not get any worse. But as we now know, it got much worse.

I am not sure how to write about Terezin. I wanted to go there to pay my respects to the numerous Seligmann cousins who had died there as well as all the other thousands who had died there. But part of the time I felt very uncomfortable, like I was visiting a museum, not a place where people were tortured, starved, and killed. I took a few photographs at first and then stopped because I felt it to be disrespectful and trivializing to take pictures as if I were visiting an ordinary tourist attraction.

The last photo I took was one of a cell in the Small Fortress, the part of Terezin where dissidents and “criminals” were sent to be punished as opposed to the Large Fortress where the Jews were sent to await their deaths. Of course, many Jews were also classified as dissidents and “criminals” and ended up at the Small Fortress, and the room I photographed was one where such Jewish prisoners were sent, getting no meat and just water and a piece of bread twice a day and sleeping like animals on platforms squeezed into a tiny space where they were crowded on top of each other. The solitary confinement cells, the yard where guards shot Jews for target practice, the sinks where no water ran but were there merely to fool the International Red Cross. My brain had a hard time absorbing that these were real places where these horrendous things actually happened.

Jewish prisoners’ cell, Terezin

My initial impression of the so-called Large Fortress or ghetto was that, by contrast to the Small Fortress, it was not that bad. This was the camp that Hitler used as a “model camp” to convince the International Red Cross that Jews were being well-treated. Children put on performances and created drawings and played soccer, all to impress the visitors. Food was served for the visit that was never served again. Children were required to lie to the visitors to create the impression that they were happy.

Some of the children’s drawings are on display at Terezin, and they are just heart-breaking. The childlike depictions of their happy lives before the war and of their impressions of what was happening around them are so powerful. I can’t possibly convey in words what these drawings convey.

Although Terezin was not a death camp, many thousands of people died at Terezin either from malnutrition, disease, or murder. When we saw the barracks where people lived and the living conditions they endured, my initial impressions were corrected, and I realized how horrible life must have been for those forced to live there while awaiting death, either at Terezin or later when shipped to Auschwitz.

As I noted above, according to records at Yad Vashem several of my Seligmann cousins died at Terezin, including Moritz Seligmann, Laura Seligmann Winter, Bettina Seligmann Arnfeld, Anna Seligmann Goldmann and her husband Hugo and their three children Ruth, Heinz, and Gretel, and Eugen Seligmann. Helena was able to catch a researcher at Terezin right before he was leaving for the day, and in a few minutes he was able to provide me with information about one of these relatives, Eugen Seligmann. He gave me these documents.

Record for Eugen Seligmann at Terezin

Death certificate for Eugen Seligmann at Terezin

From these documents we were able to learn the day Eugen died and from that we were able to identify where in the burial grounds at Terezin Eugen had been buried. You see, the bodies were buried in mass graves that were identifiable only by date. Eugen died on September 16, 1942, and thus the archivist at Terezin could determine that he had been buried in a mass grave located at marker 59.

Helena led us to the cemetery where the markers are posted, and after some searching (many markers had numbers missing for reasons that were not clear) we found marker 59. I placed a stone on the marker and stood in silence, thinking about this cousin I’d never known and what his life and his death at Terezin must have been like.

cemetery at Terezin

Marker 59

location of mass grave where Eugen Seligmann is buried

According to the death certificate, Eugen died from marasmus, or severe malnutrition. In other words, this 87 year old man starved to death. It is just horrifying to look at this document and translate the German words; the document records his birth date, his home town, his date, day, and time of death, his parents’ names and whether he was married and had children (none recorded here), the name of the attending physician, and other information—the level of detail is in direct conflict with the dehumanization the Nazis inflicted on these people. Why create a record that creates an impression that someone cared who this man was and then toss his body into a mass grave?

Eugen, the son of Carolina and Siegfried Seligmann and a nephew of my great-great-grandfather Bernard Seligman, was a member of a successful Jewish German family. He was in his late 80s when he was taken to Terezin. How can anyone possibly grasp what it must have been like for him to have been torn from his home and transported to this camp in Czechoslovakia, deprived of all his rights and property, forced to live in squalor and without any privacy or essentials? How can we grasp what it must have been like for this elderly man to starve to death in such a place? How can anyone understand how human beings can do this to other human beings?

I never knew Eugen or any of the other cousins who died at Terezin. In fact, a year ago I didn’t know I had any cousins who died in the Holocaust. Although going to Terezin was a very painful and nightmarish experience, I am glad that I was able to honor their memories by visiting the place where they are buried, the place where they were killed for no reason at all. Even now I cannot really fathom what happened there. It just is incomprehensible.

My Brotmanville Cousins: Searching for Answers

Posted on May 14, 2015 by Amy

One thing I have been trying to do as part of my preparations for our visit to Tarnobrzeg and the surrounding towns is a last ditch effort to find some other clues as to where my Brotman ancestors lived. I have gone back through the research I’ve done on my great-grandparents and their Galician born children, Abraham, Max, David, Hyman, and Tillie, and have found no new clues. Then I realized that now that I have some DNA confirmation that my great-grandfather Joseph was the brother of Moses Brotman of Brotmanville, I needed to go through their records as well to see if I could find some new clues. I had done an initial search a few years ago, but had not yet gone back and checked it more thoroughly.

Moses Brotman courtesy of his granddaughter Elaine

What I already knew was that Moses Brotman had had many children, some born in Europe, some born in the US. His oldest (known) child was his son Abraham, who was born in Europe. Abraham Brotman had originally settled in New York City and established a cloak factory there, but was invited by those who created the Alliance Colony in Pittsgrove Township, New Jersey, to start a factory there to employ the residents when the farming season ended. Eventually, a section of Pittsgrove was named Brotmanville in his honor.[1]

At this point I will not tell the full story of the Brotmanville family in America; that will have to wait. My immediate objective in reviewing my research of the Brotmanville Brotmans was to see if I could find any records that revealed where Moses and his family had lived before arriving in the US. So I had to focus first on those who had been born in Europe, not those who were born in the US, although that meant also looking for records for the children born here to see if those records revealed the birthplaces of their European born parents

What I knew from the descendants and from my earlier research was that Moses had been married twice and Abraham had been the child of his first marriage. Although the census records for Abraham are in conflict about his birthdate, the earliest to include his age, the 1900 census, reported his birthdate to be November 1863, long before Moses married Ida, the woman with whom he immigrated to America.

1900 US Census for Abraham Brotman Year: 1900; Census Place: Pittsgrove, Salem, New Jersey; Roll: 993; Page: 17A; Enumeration District: 0179; FHL microfilm: 1240993

Looking at the 1900 census report for Abraham, by 1900 he and his wife, Minnie Hollender, had been married for 13 years and had had six children, five of whom were still alive. All six children were born in the US. Abraham reported that he had arrived in the US in 1884, three years before marrying Minnie. Their children as of 1900 were Joseph (10), Samuel (7), Gilbert (6), Nephtaly (later Herman) (4), and Leah (2). They were living in Pittsgrove, New Jersey, and Abraham was working as a manufacturer.[2]

The 1910 census for Abraham and his family is only somewhat consistent with that of the 1900: his age is 47, still giving him a birth year of 1863, but now his birthplace is reported as Russia. He and Minnie now reported that they had had eleven children, nine of whom were still alive. In addition to the five listed above, there were three more daughters and one more son.

Abraham Brotman 1910 US census Year: 1910; Census Place: Pittsgrove, Salem, New Jersey; Roll: T624_908; Page: 15B; Enumeration District: 0154; FHL microfilm: 1374921

The 1920 census reported one more child and once again had Abraham’s birthplace as Austria. However, he now claimed to be 48, thus born in 1872, not 1863 as previously reported. Later records also made him ten years younger than had been reported on the 1900 and 1910 census reports. Genealogists generally assume that the records closest in time are more likely to be accurate than those later in time (and people are more likely to make themselves younger as they get older), so I am inclined to assume that Abraham was born in 1863. It also makes more sense that he was 21 when he immigrated, not 11. But where was he born? Austria? Russia? And in what city or town?

Since both the 1930 and the 1940 census reported his birthplace as Austria, I am inclined to discount the 1910 and assume that the 1900, 1920, 1930 and 1940 census reports indicating his birthplace as Austria are more accurate. And, of course, “Austria” meant within the Austria-Hungary Empire, just as it did for my great-grandparents and many other immigrants from that region, including Galicia.

But then where more specifically was he born? Unfortunately, I’ve not been able to find a death record for Abraham, and the death records I have for his children are no more specific. For example, the death certificate for his oldest child, Joseph, only reports that his father’s birthplace was Austria.

Joseph Brotman death certificate
Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1963 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014.
Original data: Pennsylvania (State). Death certificates, 1906–1963. Series 11.90 (1,905 cartons). Records of the Pennsylvania Department of Health, Record Group 11. Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

Samuel’s death certificate says that his father’s birthplace was Russia.

Samuel Brotman death certificate
Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1963 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014.
Original data: Pennsylvania (State). Death certificates, 1906–1963. Series 11.90 (1,905 cartons). Records of the Pennsylvania Department of Health, Record Group 11. Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

Abraham’s youngest child, Aaron, who was born in 1911, died as a young man in 1939 from heart disease. His death certificate indicates that his father was born in Austria.

Aaron Brotman death certificate
Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1963 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014.
Original data: Pennsylvania (State). Death certificates, 1906–1963. Series 11.90 (1,905 cartons). Records of the Pennsylvania Department of Health, Record Group 11. Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

Those were the only sources I have located so far that reflect anything about where Abraham was born. I also had no records of what his mother’s name was nor did I have any indication of full siblings for Abraham, only the half-siblings born through his father’s second marriage. So I then turned to Abraham’s father Moses and his children to see if there was more to learn through their records.

The earliest record I had found for Moses was his petition for naturalization, filed in 1894. It had his birthplace as Russia. It also said that he had arrived in the US in 1885.

Moses Brotman Petition for Naturalization “New Jersey, County Naturalization Records, 1749-1986,” images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-1971-29863-26750-98?cc=2057433&wc=M73R-4NL:351145001,351187001 : accessed 14 May 2015), Salem > Petitions for naturalization 1888-1895 > image 95 of 96; county courthouses, New Jersey.

The 1900 US census reported his birthplace and date as Austria in November 1844. It also reported that he had immigrated in 1886 and that he was a farmer. Like his son Abraham, he was living in Pittsgrove, New Jersey with his wife “Chay” (probably Chaya), to whom he’d been married for sixteen years. (Abraham was already 37 in 1900, indicating that Abraham was not Chaya’s son.) Moses and Chaya had had eight children, seven of whom were alive, according to the 1900 census. The seven were Sadie (16), Katie (13), Samuel (10), Lilly (7), Isaac (5), Bessy (2), and Lewis (three months)[It is spelled “Lewis” on the census, but according to his grandson, his name was actually spelled “Louis.”] The youngest four were born in New Jersey, Katie in New York, and Sadie and Samuel reportedly in Austria. Of course, that made no sense to me—if Katie was older than Samuel, how could he have been born in Austria if she was born in New York? Had Moses and Chaya returned to Europe at the time Katie was born? Or was the census just in error? If they really had immigrated in 1886 and if Samuel was 10 in 1900, he must have been born in the US.

Moses Brotman 1900 census Year: 1900; Census Place: Pittsgrove, Salem, New Jersey; Roll: 993; Page: 18A; Enumeration District: 0179; FHL microfilm: 1240993

The other thing that struck me as very strange about this report was the fact that Moses had a son named Samuel as did his son Abraham. In 1900 Moses’ Samuel was ten; Abraham’s was seven. So Abraham’s son Samuel had an uncle three years older with the same name. When I turned to the 1910 census report for Moses and his family, that became even stranger, as now Moses had had another child, a son named Joseph, who was seven as of 1910. Abraham also had a son named Joseph, who was seventeen in 1910. So Abraham’s son Joseph had an uncle Joseph who was ten years younger than he was. In addition, both Moses and Abraham had daughters named Lilly or Lillian; Moses’ daughter was born in February 1892; Abraham’s daughter was born September 5, 1898. Why would Moses and Abraham have given their children the same names? Perhaps they were named for the same ancestors, but it must have been awfully confusing in Pittsgrove to have two Samuel Brotmans., two Joseph Brotmans, and two Lilly Brotmans running around that small community. It sure doesn’t help genealogists either.

The 1910 census report for Moses now had his wife’s name as Ida, which was a common Americanization of Chaya. Moses was now working as a presser in a clothing factory, presumably the one owned by his son Abraham. As with the 1900 census for Abraham, Moses’ birthplace is now given as Russia, not Austria. He and Ida had six of their children living with them: Samuel (20), Lilly (15), Isaac (14), Bessie (12), Lewis/Louis (10), and the above-mentioned Joseph (7). The birthplace for all the children was New Jersey, except for Samuel, whose birthplace was reported as Russia, same as his parents. Sadie and Katie were no longer living with their parents. Unfortunately, I have not yet found any records for what happened to Sadie or Katie, although their father’s obituary revealed their married names and their residence as of 1935 in Philadelphia.

Moses Brotman 1910 census Year: 1910; Census Place: Pittsgrove, Salem, New Jersey; Roll: T624_908; Page: 15A; Enumeration District: 0154; FHL microfilm: 1374921

It took me forever to track down Moses Brotman and his family on the 1920 census, and although I am not 100% certain this is the right family, I am fairly certain that it is. The head of household is Morris Brotman, wife Clara—another common Americanization of Chaya. Morris was reported to be 70 years old, so born around 1850, not far off from his birthdate on the 1900 census. Birthplace is given as Russia for Morris, Austria for Clara, and it reported that immigrated in 1887, close to the 1886 reported in 1900. The most convincing support for this being the right family are the names and ages of the children: Lillian (21), Louis (20), Bessie (19), and Joseph (17). Although Lilly would have been 25 and Bessie 22, the sons’ ages are accurate; maybe they lied about the daughters’ ages to make them appear more “marriageable.” The family was now living in Philadelphia, not New Jersey, which at first I found odd.

Moses Brotman 1920 US census
Year: 1920; Census Place: Philadelphia Ward 32, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T625_1634; Page: 12B; Enumeration District: 1095; Image: 530

But then I checked for the older sons, Samuel and Isaac (now Irving) and found that both had married between 1910 and 1920 and were living in Philadelphia. Although I still have not located the two older daughters Sadie and Katie, perhaps they also had married by then and moved to Philadelphia. Maybe Moses and Ida/Clara/Chaya also moved there to be closer to all their children.

Thus, I now had conflicting birthplaces for Moses—one census said Austria, two said Russia. I looked at the 1930 census, and once again there was a conflict. Now Moses’ birthplace was reported as Austria-Hungary, then crossed out with “Europe” written above it. His parents’ birthplace, however, was given as Austria-Hungary. Moses was now 80 years old, and he and his wife (now Ida again) and their youngest son Joseph (28) were living in Vineland, New Jersey, near Pittsgrove. So as with Abraham, the birthplace for Moses fluctuated back and forth between Russia and Austria with no specific town or city mentioned. Perhaps Moses really did not know where in Europe he was actually born.

Moses Brotman 1930 US census Year: 1930; Census Place: Vineland, Cumberland, New Jersey; Roll: 1327; Page: 13A; Enumeration District: 0060; Image: 434.0; FHL microfilm: 2341062

Moses died on September 23, 1935. His death certificate said he was born in Austria in 1847 and that his parents were named Abraham Brotman and Sadie Berstein, also born in Austria. His grandson Aaron Brotman was the informant, Abraham’s youngest son who would die himself just a few years later. Moses’ wife’s name was given as Rachel Rice. This has caused considerable confusion for the family. Was this a third wife? A mistake?

In the obituary for Moses, it says he was survived by his widow, but did not name her. It did, however, name all his children (including the married names for Sadie and Katie, as indicated above) and their residences.

Moses Brotman obituary Courtesy of his granddaughter Elaine, source unknown

I found the death certificate for his youngest child, Joseph, who died less than a year after his father on July 26, 1936, from bacterial endocarditis. He was only 34 years old. On his death certificate, Moses’ birthplace is once again given as Russia, and Joseph’s mother’s name is reported to be Rachael Rice. The informant was Joseph’s half-brother, Abraham Brotman.

Joseph Brotman (Moses’ son) death certificate
Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1963 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014.
Original data: Pennsylvania (State). Death certificates, 1906–1963. Series 11.90 (1,905 cartons). Records of the Pennsylvania Department of Health, Record Group 11. Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

Since Moses’ wife on the 1910 census was Ida and since Joseph was born in 1902, it would seem likely that Ida was Joseph’s mother. Or could Chaya have been Rachel Rice and then died after Joseph was born? Was Ida a third wife? And was she the same woman as Clara, the wife listed on the 1920 census, or was that a fourth wife? My own personal hunch was that Rachel, Chaya, Ida and Clara are all one and the same person.

Although I was able to find the death certificate for Irving Brotman, it had no information for the name of his mother, had his father’s name as Morris, and had no information for their birthplaces. I was, however, able to find the following entries in the New Jersey, Births and Christening Index on Ancestry.com for two of Moses’ children:

Name:	Liza Brotman
Gender:	Female
Birth Date:	2 Feb 1892
Birth Place:	Pit, Salem, New Jersey
Father’s name:	Moritz Brotman
Mother’s name:	Chai Reis
FHL Film Number:	494224

Name:	Brotman
Gender:	Female
Birth Date:	12 May 1897
Birth Place:	Pit , Salem, New Jersey
Father’s name:	Moses Brotman
Father’s Age:	45
Father’s Birth Place:	Austria
Mother’s name:	Clara Rice
Mother’s Age:	30
Mother’s Birth Place:	Austria
FHL Film Number:	494236

Notice that the mother’s name was Chai Reis on the first, then the more Americanized Clara Rice on the later one. These were both created before the 1900 census listing of Moses’ wife as Chaya, the 1910 listing as Ida, the 1920 listing as Clara, or the 1930 listing again as Ida. Notice that the surname is Reis/Rice, the same surname given for Moses’ wife on his death certificate in 1935 and that of his son Joseph in 1936. I find this last bit of evidence enough to conclude that Rachel Rice was the same woman who married Moses in 1884 or so, immigrated with him and their first two children, and gave birth to and raised nine children from Sadie, born in 1884, through Joseph, born in 1902. In 1940 after Moses had died, Ida (aka Chaya-Clara-Rachel) was living with her son Lewis/Louis and his wife Jean and their daughter Elaine in Vineland, New Jersey. According to Elaine, Ida died about three years later. Unfortunately I have not yet located a death record or obituary for Ida.

Lewis Brotman 1940 US census Year: 1940; Census Place: Vineland, Cumberland, New Jersey; Roll: T627_2327; Page: 10B; Enumeration District: 6-76

Lewis/Louis Brotman 1940 US census
Year: 1940; Census Place: Vineland, Cumberland, New Jersey; Roll: T627_2327; Page: 10B; Enumeration District: 6-76

Thus, reviewing all the records I had found had not brought me any closer to learning exactly where Moses Brotman or Abraham Brotman had been born or where they had lived in Europe. But while searching, I stumbled upon something else. I will report on that as my last post before I leave for my trip.

[1] Relatives of the Brotmanville Brotmans say family lore is that the family was from Preszyml, a town about 90 miles from Tarnobrzeg, Grebow, and Radomysl nad Sanem, the other ancestral towns where possible family members lived. But I have not found any record supporting that family lore.

[2] A few geographical facts are necessary to understand the locations discussed in this post. Brotmanville is an unincorporated community within the township of Pittsgrove so Pittsgrove is listed on the census records, not Brotmanville. The colony where Baron de Hirsch and others created the farming settlement for poor Jewish immigrants was called the Alliance Colony. Vineland is a neighboring community where many of the Brotmans lived over the years.

What Did They Know, and When Did They Know It?

Posted on May 12, 2015 by Amy

As I’ve learned about the numerous members of my Seligmann family who were killed during the Holocaust, one of the questions that has bothered me was whether or not their American relatives were aware of what was going on in Germany. This, of course, is part of the larger question of what Americans, Jewish or not, knew about Hitler and his plans to murder the world’s entire Jewish population. Certainly people were aware of the anti-Semitic laws and practices, of Kristallnacht, of some violence against Jews, but to what extent were they aware of the seriousness, the severity of the situation, of the plans for genocide? We all know stories of immigrants who were denied entry, including full ships turned away from American ports. Historians have written about the failure of the Roosevelt Administration to respond to pleas for help from those who were very much aware of what was happening in Germany and elsewhere in Europe.

But what did my own family know? Did my Seligman relatives here in the US know what was happening to their cousins in Germany? In 1935 when the Nuremberg Laws were enacted in Germany, depriving Jews of their citizenship and imposing many other restrictions on their lives and livelihoods, both my great-grandmother Eva Seligman Cohen and her younger brother James Seligman, my great-great-uncle, were still alive (their youngest brother Arthur had died in 1933). Did they even know they had cousins living in Germany? Were they in touch with them? Did they know what was going on there?

To some extent those questions now have some answers, thanks to a series of letters from and to Fred Michel sent to me by his children. Fred Michel’s grandfather August Seligmann was the younger brother of Bernard Seligman, the father of Eva and James and my great-great-grandfather. Fred was thus the first cousin once removed of my great-grandmother and her brother. I wrote previously that in Fred Michel’s citizenship application he had identified James Seligman of Santa Fe as his sponsor for immigrating to the United States in 1937. Fred’s children have some letters written by James Seligman regarding the immigration of his German cousin that shed some light on my questions.

The earliest letter in this particular collection is one from James Seligman to George G. Harburger of Metropolitan Life Insurance in New York City, dated December 22, 1936. In this letter, James was writing in response to a letter from Mr. Harburger regarding a letter that had been sent from Frankfort, Germany, to Bernard and August Seligman, which an Ernest Rubel had delivered to Harburger. Ernest Rubel was the person whom Fred Michel later listed on his naturalization application as the person to whom he had been coming when he arrived in the US.

Courtesy of the Leo Baeck Institute
https://archive.org/stream/ilsefritzmichelf005#page/n30/mode/1up

James requested that the letter be sent to him, as he was the son of Bernard Seligman. There follows a German translation of the same letter. I wonder whether James knew German or whether he had someone else do this translation for him.

Courtesy of the Family of Fred and Ilse Michel

courtesy of the family of Fred and Ilse Michel

The next letter in the file is from James Seligman to Fred Michel. (Note that James addresses the letter to Fritz, which was Fred’s real name before he changed it after immigrating.) The letter is dated January 25, 1937, and in it James first described the American Seligmans—his father Bernard, his two uncles, Sigmund and Adolf, and his brother Arthur, all of whom had passed away by 1937, and then mentioned that only he and his sister were still living. His sister, of course, was my great-grandmother Eva.

Courtesy of the Family of Fred and Ilse Michel

James then addressed the purpose of Fred’s letter to him: his desire to immigrate to the United States. James warned Fred about the unemployment situation in the US, although recognized that Fred had a friend in the US who could help him. Fred must have inquired about a possible job in Santa Fe with James, to which James replied, “As regards a job in this city, this would be out of the question as I only have a very small business myself with only one employee and which is all it will stand.” By 1930, James Seligman was no longer affiliated with Seligman Brothers and had formed his own business, the Old Santa Fe Trading Post, which must have been the business to which he was referring in his letter to Fred Michel. Fred might very well have been taken aback by this flat-out refusal to help him find a job in Santa Fe. But James agreed to help Fred by sending an affidavit in support of his immigration and closed by wishing him the best and expressing hopes to meet him some day.

On February 11, 1937, George Harburger wrote to James Seligman to persuade him to help. It appears from the letter that Ernest Rubel, Fred’s personal friend, had contacted Harburger to ask him to contact James for help. I am not sure of the various connections there, but George described Fred as someone who had supported his mother all his life and as an intelligent and self-made man who would “never be a burden” to James and then instructed him how to submit an affidavit in support of Fred’s immigration.

James Seligman to Fred Michel first letter and supporting docs-page-005

Courtesy of the Michel Family

James then wrote to Fred again on May 10, 1937, advising Fred that the American Consulate had received James’ affidavit and that all was in order, but that they had not yet received an application from Fred himself. James advised him to do so “as soon as possible.”

James Seligman to Fred Michel first letter and supporting docs-page-008

Courtesy of the Michel Family

Then there was a letter in German which I could not translate, but which the kind people in the Germany Genealogy group on Facebook helped me with:

Here is the translation of this letter from Fred Michel to the US Consulate on May 1, 1937:

Subject: Pledge from Mr James Seligman,321 Hilside Ave., Santa Fe,

for Fritz Michel, Leerbachstreet 112/o at Moritz (means in the apartment of Moritz), Frankfurt/Main

To the consulate general of the USA

Dear Mr Consul General!

Attached I’m sending you the missing papers for your examination.

Obtaining the papers I had to learn that my landlord didn’t register me for 3 month (from March until May 1933). Please find the reason for that in the authentication attached. Also you can find in attached transcript of my certificate where I was working during that time. If you wish I can bring the original paper with me. The County Department of Bingen /Rh. ( at the Rhine), where I complained about my certificate of good conduct four times, just sent me the information that the required paper was given to post it to Stuttgart on May 3 to your address.

I own a proper passport.

If I won’t hear from you, I’ll assume that my papers are in order.

Yours respectfully

Attachments:

4 passport pictures, 2 birth certificates

4 certificates of good conduct

1 transcript of certificate

Reading this letter after I’d had it translated made me angry; it so clearly reflects how difficult some in Germany were making it for Fred to be able to leave, but also how difficult the US was making it for him to arrive.

From other documents we know that Fred Michel was finally allowed to immigrate and arrived in the US on September 24, 1937. On October 10, 1937, his cousin James wrote to him again, welcoming him to the United States. Fred must have enclosed a photograph in his letter to James telling him of his arrival because James referred to it as indicating the Fred must have encountered bad weather while crossing the ocean to America. Fred also must have told James that he had landed a job and was living with friends.

I found the next paragraph of this letter very telling. James warned Fred that it might take some time to adjust to his new country and then said, “How anyone can live in Germany under that man Hitler I cannot understand but suppose they cannot get away from it all.” What did he know about Hitler as of September 1937? Were his feelings shared by Americans in general? And isn’t it also revealing that James, the son of a man who had left Germany behind about 80 years earlier, could not imagine why others were not also leaving Germany as his father and Fred Michel had done? Would James have found it so easy to leave his homeland if the shoes were on the other feet?

James then thanked Fred for a gift he had sent him—a writing set—but says Fred should have saved his money until he “could afford it better.” Was this insulting to Fred as patronizing? Or did he see it as an older cousin’s concern? James closed by saying, “Let me hear from you from time to time and let me know how you are getting along and what kind of work you are doing as I will always want to know.” Although I read this as genuine interest and concern, it is not at all clear to me that Fred and James maintained much or any future contact. Fred’s children seemed to believe that they did not.

courtesy of the Michel family

In any case, James died on December 15, 1940, just three years after Fred’s arrival in the US. Among Fred’s papers was an obituary for his cousin James that he must have saved for many years. I had not seen this obituary before, and I do not know in what paper it was published or the date and page. I will not transcribe its content here, but will add it to the post I wrote quite a while back about James Seligman.

The next letter in this file was written many years later. On October 9, 1975, Fred wrote the following letter to Mrs. Randolph Seligman of Albuquerque, New Mexico, thinking she might perhaps be a relative, and identifying his own background and his connection to James Seligman of Santa Fe.

Courtesy of Michel Family

Of greatest interest to me in this letter is this short reference to my great-grandmother: “Once I met Eva Seligman in Philly.” My great-grandmother died in October 1939, just two years after Fred arrived. My father was living with her at the time that she likely met Fred Michel. He doesn’t remember him, though he said the name was familiar, but probably from reading it on the blog. From what I have learned about my great-grandmother, she was a warm and welcoming person who had several times taken in relatives in need. I wish I knew more about her meeting with her German-born cousin Fred Michel.

Mrs. Randolph Seligman responded shortly thereafter that although she was not a relative of the Santa Fe Seligmans, the Santa Fe phone directory listed a William Seligman and a Jake Seligman living in Santa Fe. [These were the sons of Adolph Seligman, about whom I wrote here.] She said they had once met William, known as Willie, years before in his clothing store in Sante Fe. In November 1975, she wrote again, commenting that it was strange that the two New Mexico families did not know each other, but attributed that to the fact that “they married non-Jews and became affiliated with the Episcopal Church.” Near the end of her letters she spoke of plans to visit with Willie Seligman in Santa Fe and identified him as a relative of Arthur and James Seligman. Fred responded to her on January 5, 1976, expressing his delight that she had written to him again and filling her in on his family.

But within what is otherwise a newsy and cheery letter are two sad passages. After referring to some relatives he remembered from Germany, Fred wrote, “As I write these notes I am amazed how much I know about my family when one considered I left “home” when I was 18, never to return. Finally, in 1972 while in Europe I contacted some survivors. It was an emotional experience we never forget. Some I haven’t seen since Hitler came to power.”[1] For me, this is a powerful statement in its own understated way. Here was a man who had left everything behind yet even he is surprised by how much he still remembered of his family and his past.

The other disturbing passage in this letter is in the following paragraph where Fred wrote about the travel plans he and Ilse had made in 1974, including to Santa Fe, where Fred had relatives, and to Georgia, where Ilse had relatives. Fred wrote that they had discarded those plans “as Ilse reasoned that in spite of her writing after arriving here, she never received an answer and the same goes for my relatives in S.F. [Santa Fe].” How sad that so many years later Fred and Ilse both still felt hurt by the fact that their American relatives had not stayed in touch with them.

I don’t know how to reconcile that with the welcoming letters that Fred received from James, but obviously there were some hard feelings there, whether justified or not. I just find it very sad that two people who had lost so much felt so abandoned by their American relatives.

So what did those American Seligman relatives know by 1937 when Fred was trying to escape from Germany? They knew that they had German relatives, they knew that things were bad for Jews with Hitler in power, and they knew that there were at least some family members who wanted to leave Germany and come to the United States. Did they do enough? Of course, in retrospect nothing anyone did was enough, given the outcome of the Holocaust. And it is hard to know sitting here today what more any one individual could or should have done. Certainly James did what he was asked to do and helped Fred immigrate. Could he have given him a job? Could he or any of the Seligmans have reached out to these newly arrived cousins in a more committed way? I don’t know, and I can’t judge. But I do judge our government which closed its eyes and its ears for political and other reasons while thousands and eventually millions were killed.

[1] I don’t know why Fred wrote that he was 18 when he left home. The US records all give his birth year as 1906, and he came to the US in 1937 when he was 31, not 18. Perhaps he is referring to leaving home in a more specific way, not leaving Germany.

Happy Mothers Day

Posted on May 10, 2015 by Amy

Happy Mothers Day to all the mothers out there, most especially to my mother, who has always been my role model, and to my daughters, who gave me the best job in the world. Nothing gives me more joy than being their mother.

Here are the women in my direct maternal lines for whom I am fortunate enough to have photographs. Perhaps eventually I will be able to locate pictures of some of the others as well.

My mother and me

My grandmother with her two daughters, my Aunt Elaine and my mother

My great-grandmother Bessie Brotman

Ghitla Rosenzweig Goldschlager my great-grandmother

My grandmother Eva Schoenthal Cohen and her daughter, my Aunt Eva

My great-grandmother Hilda Katzenstein Schoenthal with her daughter Eva and her granddaughter Eva

Arthur Seligman, Marjorie, and Eva May Cohen, 1932 Atlantic City

Arthur Seligman, Marjorie, and my great-grandmother Eva May Seligman Cohen, 1932 Atlantic City

Frances Nusbaum Seligman, my great-great-grandmother

My great-great-great-grandmother Babetta Schonfeld Seligmann

Losing the DNA Wars

Posted on April 20, 2015 by Amy

So many people use DNA to find their lost relatives. I have read absolutely amazing stories of people finding parents, siblings, and cousins. People write about breaking down brick walls and finding their great-great-great-grandparents on someone’s tree and suddenly learning about five more generations. One man wrote an entire blog that mostly focuses on how he used DNA to find his grandfather.

But not me. I don’t have any truly amazing stories to tell. It is true that I was able to use DNA to corroborate the family stories that my great-grandfather Joseph Brotman and Moses Brotman of Brotmanville were brothers. Not only did Elaine match my mother as a second cousin as expected, but another Brotmanville Brotman, Larry, also came up as a match at the expected level. Plus I found Phyllis and Frieda through DNA. As discussed earlier, we are hypothesizing that their ancestor Sabina Brot and my grandmother were first cousins through my great-grandmother Bessie’s family.

Now I am not at all suggesting that those connections are not important. I was very excited to make these connections and hope to learn more from them as time goes on. But what I was ultimately hoping for was that I would find some new third or fourth cousin on the Brotman side who would have names and maybe even records of my Brotman ancestors—that I would learn where Joseph and Bessie were born, whether they had siblings, who their parents and grandparents were, and where and when they lived and died. At a minimum I hoped I would learn where Joseph and Bessie lived with more certainty than I’ve been able to establish through US records alone.

But alas, it was not to be, and I am about to surrender in the DNA wars. Let me tell you what I’ve done, what I’ve tried. Maybe someone out there will have a better idea. First, as I mentioned before, I found three amazing women to help me—-Leah, Julie, and Lana. Leah and Julie are biologists, and Lana is an IT/math whiz. They pored over my data and tried to find patterns in the matches. We had DNA results from my mother, brother, second cousin Bruce, the Brotmanville cousins, and Frieda and Phyllis. I even tested myself to add to the mix. We had all the tools on GEDmatch. We used every tool available—triangulating, segment matching, one to ones, one to many, chromosome browsers. (If these terms aren’t familiar to you, maybe you are lucky.) I learned about DNA. We contacted experts on Ashkenazi genetics and genealogy. We banged our heads together, we argued, we laughed, and we became friends.

We made lists and spreadsheets. I emailed more people than I can remember, setting out why I was writing to them, listing what my ancestral names and towns were, and asking for input. Some people never even responded. Most did, but once we got beyond the niceties, there was not one time when we could figure out why or how we might be related. There was no pattern. There were matches from Germany, Lithuania, Ukraine, Hungary, Russia, and so on. There were none from Romania. There were none from Galicia. There were some from far-away places in Poland, but not anywhere near Tarnobrzeg.

And there were no common surnames. No Brotmans, Brots, Rosenzweigs, Gelbermans, Goldschlagers.

So great—I have hundreds of possible second to fourth cousins (I didn’t even bother looking at those predicted to be further out), but I can’t prove how I am connected to any of them. Even Frieda is a guess, a hope. At least with Frieda I know the family name was Brot and the location was near Tarnobrzeg. But the others? Not. A. Clue.

English: The structure of DNA showing with detail showing the structure of the four bases, adenine, cytosine, guanine and thymine, and the location of the major and minor groove. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Sure, maybe my ancestors moved from Lithuania or Ukraine or Germany. Maybe they all adopted different surnames in 1810 or so. So what good does that do me? It’s like saying I must be related to Jon Stewart because after all, I am sure he had ancestors who also traipsed around Europe. I am sure if he tested, we’d share some DNA. So, yay! I am Jon Stewart’s eighth cousin or something. I can’t prove it. And I can’t prove that any of those supposed cousins on FamilyTreeDNA or 23andme or GEDmatch are really my cousins.

The problem is endogamy. Most Ashkenazi Jews share at least some DNA with almost all other Ashkenazi Jews. We all come from the same roots, and our people have been marrying each other for generations upon generations. My experts have concluded that as a result, a lot of the “matches” are really false matches in the sense that the amount of DNA shared is just not an accurate predictor of the relationship between the two people who match. I had matches who shared close to or more than 100 cM, meaning we should be second to fourth cousins, but there is no way that we are. Maybe 6^th cousins or even further. And we can’t trace back to our 6^th or 7^th great-grandparents in any way that will tell us since there were no surnames back then in most Jewish communities.

So…I am throwing in the towel at least for now. The DNA stuff has eaten up endless hours of my time. It’s been fun. It’s been educational. But it’s gotten me nowhere. I will still chat with my new buddies, and I am still learning new things all the time. The science is fascinating. I am still excited to find my brain challenged by new ways of thinking. (I haven’t taken a science class in 45 years.) I’ve even gotten my friend and fellow blogger at Bernfeld Family from Galicia and More involved in our shenanigans. In fact, she has a great post today about her DNA adventures.

But I am raising the white flag on finding Brotman relatives. I am not emailing any more long shot cousins. I can’t find the Brotmans this way. At least not for now.

Now…on the other hand…maybe I CAN find a connection to those Goldschlagers if one of them decided to do a DNA test. Hmmmm….

Damn, the stuff is irresistible.

Yom Hashoah

Posted on April 16, 2015 by Amy



http://www.gettyimages.com/detail/121859610

In honor of Yom Hashoah, Holocaust Memorial Day, I am posting the links to six of my blog posts in which I discussed the members of my own family who perished in the Holocaust. Six to represent the six million Jews who were slaughtered by the Nazis during World War II.

These are all members of the Seligmann/Schoenfeld family. I did not even know about them a year ago. And I know that there must have been members of my other family lines who were also murdered during the war. I just haven’t found them yet. So in memory of all those who were killed, those we know about and all those we do not yet know about, please read these posts if you have not done so already. Or even if you have. We must never forget.

English: A lit Yahrtzeit candle, a candle that is lit on the Hebrew anniversary of a loved one’s death. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Lost Oppenheimers

Posted on April 13, 2015 by Amy

My Seligman-Schoenfeld family tree continues to grow, and it continues to break my heart. Thanks to my cousin Wolfgang, I now know more about another line in the family. I already knew that my great-great-grandfather Bernard Seligman, who left Germany in the late 1850s and settled in Santa Fe, had a younger sister Paulina. She was born in Gau-Algesheim in 1847, the daughter of Babetta Schoenfeld and Moritz Seligman. I had received her birth records several months ago:

I had no record for Paulina aside from this one until I connected with Wolfgang. It seems that Wolfgang’s family, like my cousin Pete’s family, had been contacted back in the 1980s by the National Westminster Bank in England, the bank handling the estate of James Seligman and looking for his heirs in order to distribute his estate after his wife died. Just as they had provided Pete’s family with a family tree showing how they were related to James, the bank also provided Wolfgang’s family with a similar tree. (I still don’t know why my father and his sister were not contacted, but that’s water under the bridge.) James was, of course, a brother of Paulina and of Wolfgang’s great-grandfather August just as he was a brother of Bernard.

You can see a PDF of Paulina’s section of the family tree provided to Wolfgang’s family by clicking here:

Pauline Seligmann Oppenheimer family tree

As you can see, it identifies the husband and descendants of Paulina Seligmann (here called Pauline).[1] Paulina had married Maier Oppenheimer, and they had had five children: Joseph (November 22, 1874), Martha (March 1, 1876), Anna (March 14, 1877), Ella (June 24, 1878), and Moritz James (June 10, 1879). Her husband Maier died on June 8, 1900; he was 51 years old. Although it is hard to read clearly, it looks like their daughter Anna died when she was only 31 years old in 1908. She had married Max Kaufman, but did not have any children. Paulina died April 10, 1926 when she was 79 years old.

Fortunately, Paulina did not live to see what happened to her children. Although the other four children survived into the Nazi era, only one of the four was alive after the war had ended. Ella, who never married, died in an “unknown concentration camp,” according to the bank’s tree. Joseph died on October 21, 1940; one record on Ancestry.com shows that a Joseph Oppenheimer with the same birth and death dates shown on the bank’s family tree died as a prisoner at the Dachau concentration camp. Joseph was married to Marie Johanna, but they had not had any children, according to the bank’s tree. Martha, who did survive the war and died in 1967 when she was 91 years old according to the tree, lost two children in the Holocaust: Trude and Paul. The bank’s tree did not include a name of a husband.

English: View of prisoners’ barracks soon after the liberation of the Dachau concentration camp Deutsch: Blick auf die Gefangenen Baracken kurz nach der Befreifung des KZs-Dachau. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Wolfgang was able to provide me with a little more information about the youngest child, Moritz James Oppenheimer, as gleaned from these two sources: a 1952 article from Der Spiegel and a website for a German company that supplies horse dressage and other equipment. (Although both articles are in German, Wolfgang translated them for me.) Moritz had owned a paper factory in Frankfort before the war as well as a successful horse stud farm where thoroughbred horses were raised and sold. I found this website about the stud farm as it exists today. Obviously, Moritz Oppenheimer was quite well-to-do. In fact, Wolfgang’s grandfather Julius had written to his cousin Moritz for financial help after he lost his store in Gau-Algesheim.

The horse farm once owned by MJ Oppenheimer as it looks today

After the Nazis came to power, Moritz had his marriage dissolved in 1936 because his wife, Emma Katherine Neuhoff, was not Jewish. Wolfgang explained that this was often done under Nazi rule to those in interfaith marriages. Then Moritz had his factory seized by the Nazis under the Nuremberg Laws, forcing him into bankruptcy. As a result, he had to sell his horse farm in order to raise money. The horse farm was sold to Baron Dr. Heinrich von Thyssen-Bornemisza, who was able to purchase the land, many valuable stallions and mares, and much more for just a few hundred thousand Deutsche marks.[2] On May 9, 1941, the Gestapo visited Moritz in his apartment in Wiesbaden; shortly thereafter he was found dead in the apartment. It was ruled a suicide.

Moritz had two children who survived him: a son Jur Georg Emil Walter Oppenheimer (born July 10, 1904) and Paula Herta Oppenheimer (April 11, 1902). The son married Elsa Lina, and they had one child, Angelika Emma Sybille, born in 1946. Paula married someone named Spiegler and was still alive at the time that the bank prepared the family tree in the 1980s.

A stolpersteine was placed in front of Moritz’s residence in Frankfort at Schumannstrasse 15, depicted below.

By Karsten Ratzke (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons

Moritz, Ella, Joseph, Anna, and Martha: These were my great-grandmother Eva Seligman Cohen’s first cousins. I wonder if she knew of them and her other German cousins. Did her sons know of them? Did they know that Hitler had murdered many of these cousins? Certainly my father didn’t know of them, nor did I. Until now.

[1] I have not yet been able to find records to verify most of the facts on this family tree, but am trying to locate sources.

[2] According to one source, a US dollar in 1940 was worth about 2.5 deutsche marks, so 200,000 DM would have been equivalent to $80,000. That would be worth about $1.3 million dollars today. http://www.history.ucsb.edu/faculty/marcuse/projects/currency.htm#infcalc http://www.westegg.com/inflation/ One prize thoroughbred horse today can command much more than that.

My Goldschlager Cousins: New Connections and New Photos

Posted on April 10, 2015 by Amy

Lately it’s been sort of raining Goldschlagers. First, I received an email from someone named Jeanne who matched me very distantly on the DNA testing website, but who’d spotted that one of my ancestral names was Goldschlager. Jeanne had had an aunt named Anne Goldschlager; although her aunt was an aunt by marriage only, not genetically, Jeanne had loved her greatly and wondered whether we might be related since Anne Goldschlager’s family also had ties to Romania.

According to Jeanne, Anne’s father Max had moved to Dresden in the early 20th century where Anne and her sister Sabina were born. In 1939, Max, his wife, and Sabina left Germany to go to Romania (I assume they thought it would be safer), and they left Anne behind. She was 15 years old. Somehow Anne got to England and survived the war, but her sister was killed in one of the concentration camps. Her parents survived the war and emigrated to Israel. Here is Sabina’s Page of Testimony at Yad Vashem, which includes this photograph:

Sabina Goldschlager at
http://db.yadvashem.org/names/nameDetails.html?itemId=1512276&language=en

Unfortunately, Anne has no biological descendants, and Jeanne knew nothing more about her family tree, so I don’t think I can get any further back to determine if her Goldschlagers were related to mine.

Then around the same time that I heard from Jeanne, my cousin Jim and his wife Jodi emailed me to say that their son Michael was in Spain for the Model UN and had met a fellow student named Eva Goldschlager. Michael wanted to know if Eva could be related to our Goldschlagers. After obtaining Eva’s father’s contact information, he and I have emailed several times. His Goldschlager family is also from Romania—from the town of Siret, which is a little more than 100 miles from Iasi where my grandfather was born. We’ve not gotten any further than that so far, but are trying to figure out how to learn more.

https://www.google.com/maps/dir/Ia%C8%99i,+Romania/Siret,+Romania/@47.560898,26.2317551,8z/data=!4m14!4m13!1m5!1m1!1s0x40cafb7cf639ddbb:0x7ccb80da5426f53c!2m2!1d27.590278!2d47.156944!1m5!1m1!1s0x473442f2ded04d01:0x7c7e01e73f894c68!2m2!1d26.0725!2d47.953056!4e1

And then finally just the other day I received a whole bunch of new photographs from my cousin Richard, who lives in Australia but was in the US visiting his parents. Richard is my second cousin; his father Murray is the son of David Goldschlager, my grandfather’s younger brother. Although Murray changed his surname a long time ago, he is nevertheless a Goldschlager. Here are some of the photographs Richard sent me of his grandparents.

Here are three photographs of David and Becky as young people.

David Goldschlager

Rebecca Schwartz

Rebecca and David Goldschlager

Here they are with their sons Murray and Sidney at Brighton Beach probably in the 1930s:

David and Murray Goldschlager

David Rebecca Sidney and Murray at Brighton Beach

All four Goldschlagers at Brighton Beach

The others were taken when David and Becky had moved to Arizona where Murray and his wife Edna and their son Richard lived.

Richard and his grandfather David Goldschlager

Richard with his grandparents at his bar mitzvah

At Richard’s bar mitzvah

Thank you so much to my cousin Richard who so generously shared these photographs with me. I am so happy to have more pictures of my grandfather’s brother David and his family.

Marriages and Disappearances

Posted on April 6, 2015 by Amy

In 1900 Edgar Nusbaum, the fourth child of Ernst Nusbaum and Clarissa Arnold, was living with his wife Viola Barritt, their daughter Celina[1], Viola’s sister, and a boarder at 1520 North 12^th Street in Philadelphia. Edgar was working as a clerk, and Celina was a dressmaker. Celina was nineteen years old.

On November 30, 1904, Celina married Hamilton Hall Treager Glessner in New York City. He was the son of Oliver Glessner and Anna Leidigh of Philadelphia. His father was a printer. In 1900, Hamilton was nineteen and still in school. On the 1910 census, Hamilton’s occupation was reported to be an electrical engineer. On March 10, 1906, Celina and Hamilton had a daughter, Marian La Rue Glessner.

Unfortunately, the marriage did not last. By 1910, Celina and her daughter Marian were living with Celina’s parents, Edgar and Viola, at 707 Electric Avenue. Edgar was working as a clerk for the “steam” railroad, and Celina was working as a dress designer.

Year: 1910; Census Place: Abington, Montgomery, Pennsylvania; Roll: T624_1377; Page: 9B; Enumeration District: 0064; FHL microfilm: 1375390

Although Celina gave her marital status as married, Hamilton (“Hall”) was now living with his parents in Denver, Colorado, and listed his marital status as single.

Source Citation
Year: 1910; Census Place: Denver Ward 10, Denver, Colorado; Roll: T624_116; Page: 5B; Enumeration District: 0123; FHL microfilm: 1374129

By 1915, Celina had married again, this time to Inglis Edward Daniel Cameron. In 1900, Inglis had been living in Philadelphia with his mother Mary and his two older siblings; Inglis was sixteen years old. He is listed as a student in the 1908 Philadelphia directory. In 1909, he received his law degree from the University of Pennsylvania. In 1910, Inglis was working as a lawyer and living with his mother, sister, and niece. I don’t have a marriage record for Celina and Inglis, but their son Edward James Cameron was born on June 29, 1915.

Eighteen months later, on December 19, 1916, Celina’s mother and Edgar’s wife Viola Barritt Nusbaum died at age 55 from chronic myocarditis. She was buried at West Laurel Hill cemetery.

Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1963 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014.

Two years later at age 60, Edgar remarried. His second wife was Caroline Saeltzer. She had been married before and was divorced. She was 52 years old when she married Edgar on October 24, 1918. In 1920, Edgar, Caroline, and Caroline’s mother Josephine were living at 3847 North 16^th Street, and Edgar was now the head clerk for the railroad’s auditing department.

In 1920, Celina and Inglis were living with her daughter Marian, their son Edward James (listed as James), a niece named Ella (presumably Inglis’ niece since Celina was an only child), and a nurse at 7433 Devon Street in Philadephia. Inglis was practicing law. As listed in the 1921 Philadelphia directory, he was working for the Cameo Dress Company.

Year: 1920; Census Place: Philadelphia Ward 22, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T625_1624; Page: 7A; Enumeration District: 617; Image: 269

In 1925 I found Inglis E.D. Cameron listed in the New York City directory with an office address at 100 East 42^nd Street, but with an indication that his residence was still in Philadelphia.

After that, things get really, really fuzzy for Celina, Inglis, and their children. I have not been able to find Inglis on any record after that 1925 directory—not on a census or in a directory or in a death record or obituary. Nothing. For such an unusual name, you would think something would appear. Nothing. I will keep digging, but at the moment I don’t know what happened to Inglis.

Edgar Nusbaum died on May 14, 1924, from arteriosclerosis and bronchitis. He was 65 years old and was buried at Hillside Cemetery. His second wife, Carolyn, died at age 93 on November 10, 1959. She is buried with Edgar at Hillside Cemetery.

Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1963 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014.

As for Celina, well, she seems to have married a third time after her marriage to Inglis Cameron ended either with his death or by divorce. I was quite surprised when I found this death certificate:

Ancestry.com. Texas, Death Certificates, 1903–1982 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2013.

This is obviously the right person—her parents are Edgar Nusbaum and Viola Barritt. She obviously had changed her name to Sally. And who was Carnes? And how did she end up in Houston, Texas? The informant was Marian L. Pattison, which gave me a clue about Celina’s daughter Marian La Rue Glessner.

I was able to find a Sally Carnes married to a Donald Carnes in the 1948 Houston, Texas, city directory. I also found a Texas death certificate for a Donald Carnes dated November 6, 1948. He was killed in a car accident in Houston. There is no mention of a wife’s name, although he was married. And the informant was his son E.J. Carnes of Pasadens, Texas. Donald Carnes had been a partner in Carnes Construction Company.

Ancestry.com. Texas, Death Certificates, 1903–1982 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2013.

Could E.J. Carnes, his son, be the same person as Edward James Cameron, the son of Celina Nusbaum and Inglis Cameron? Had Inglis died and had Donald Carnes adopted Edward James? In the 1942 Houston directory there is a listing for an Edward J Carnes, married to Margaret, working as a manager of the Carnes Service Station. Right above him in the directory is a Donald S. Carnes, a shipyard worker, but with a wife named Kath.

Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1821-1989 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2011.

The 1951 Houston directory lists an Edward J. Carnes, husband of Margaret, as affiliated with Carnes Construction Company and Carnes Neon Service. There is no listing for a Celina or Selena or Sally Carnes or for Donald Carnes. I think it’s pretty clear that Edward J. Carnes was the relative of Donald Carnes, given the death certificate and the similar business line. But was this Donald Carnes the husband of Celina/Sally Carnes who died in 1966? And was this Edward J. Carnes born Edward James Cameron, son of Celina and Inglis? I don’t know for sure. What do you think? I am still searching for more clues.

Since I knew from Celina’s death certificate that her daughter Marian had taken the married name Pattison, it was not that difficult to find her marriage record. According to that record, Marian Glessner married Carl T. Pattison in 1927 in Philadelphia. In 1930 they were living at 350 East Mt. Airy Avenue in Philadelphia. Carl was a civil engineer. His father was an English-born machinist in Philadelphia, and his mother was born in Germany. Carl, who is sometimes listed as Thomas C., sometimes as Thomas K., sometimes as Karl, and sometimes as Carl T. Pattison, was their youngest child. Strangely enough, Carl’s mother was also named Selina.

Carl and Marian had two children born in the 1930s who I am trying to locate so that I can learn more. By 1940, Carl, Marian, and the children were living at 229 Sedgewick Avenue in Philadelphia, and Carl was now trading bonds. In the 1950 Philadelphia phone directory, he is listed as T. Carl Pattison at the same address on Sedgewick Avenue. I have no certain records for any of them after that. I have some possibilities, but nothing about which I have enough certainty to feel confident. I have found nothing for either of their children.

Thus, the daughter and grandchildren of Edgar Nusbaum and Viola Barritt have proven to be quite elusive. Of all the descendants of Ernst and Clarissa Nusbaum, these have proven to the most difficult to find.

That leaves me with one more child of Ernst and Clarissa Nusbaum to write about—their daughter Fanny.

[1] Sometimes spelled Selena, sometimes Lena, later Sally.

The Mystery of Fanny Wiler: Final Chapter (I think)

Posted on March 30, 2015 by Amy

If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you know that one of my most challenging mysteries involves my cousin Fanny Wiler, the daughter of Caroline Dreyfuss and Moses Wiler and first cousin of my great-great-grandmother Frances Nusbaum. Caroline was my three-times great-grandaunt, the sister of Jeanette Dreyfuss, my three-times great-grandmother. Her daughter Fanny had simply vanished after the 1860 census, and I was determined to find her. As I wrote here and here and here, it was a long and twisting path involving a different Fanny who married a man who killed himself and a daughter in a fire, a mishandled estate of Fanny’s mother Caroline and ensuing litigation, and finally the discovery of Fanny and her three sons with her husband Joseph Levy.

I know now that Fanny had married Joseph in 1866 and had had three sons with him. I know that Joseph had remarried sometime before 1879 because he had a daughter Miriam with his second wife Bella Strouse. And there was a NYC birth record for a Bertha Levi, daughter of Joseph Levi and Fanny Wieler, dated November 30, 1866, but I had not been able to trace her to my Fanny.

I assumed that Fanny had died, but when and where? I had no death record for her, no burial record, no obituary. Once again she had disappeared. All I could find was an entry on FindAGrave for a Fannie Levy with the dates 1846-1877, buried at Troy Hill Jewish cemetery in Pittsburgh. There was no photo or any other information on the FindAGrave page, but something told me that this could be my Fanny. The dates and the name seemed right, and Miriam Levy, the child of Joseph and Bella, was born in Pittsburgh in November, 1879. Thus, at some point Joseph had lived in Pittsburgh, so it was not out of the question to think that Fanny had also lived and then died there.

Troy Hill Jewish Cemetery Photo courtesy of Lisa Albanese

But how could I prove that the Fanny buried at Troy Hill was my Fanny? There was no statewide requirement for the filing of death certificates before 1906 in Pennsylvania, and unlike Philadelphia, there is no readily accessible database for all deaths in Pittsburgh. I searched directories for a Joseph Levy in Pittsburgh, and although there were one or two, there was no way to tell from the directory whether those were the correct men.

I decided first to look where Fanny’s sons and her husband were buried, and almost all were buried at Rodeph Shalom in Philadelphia. The remains of those buried at Rodeph Shalom had been moved to Roosevelt Cemetery after Rodeph Shalom closed, and I emailed that cemetery, but they had no remains for a Fanny Levy. I also emailed the Special Collections Research Center at Temple University in Philadelphia, where the archives of Rodeph Shalom synagogue are now kept, to ask if they had any records for Fanny Wiler Levy, and an archivist there did a search but did not find anything. I also concluded after much searching that Fanny was not buried at Mt. Sinai cemetery in Philadelphia, where her parents and many of her relatives were buried. At that point I began to think that Fanny was not buried in Philadelphia at all if she was neither where her children nor where her parents were buried.

Rodeph Shalom Synagogue on the NRHP since August 7, 2007. At 607–615 North Broad St., in the Poplar neighborhood of Philadelphia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Pittsburgh thus became a realistic alternative location for her burial. I searched online for sources about Jewish records in Pittsburgh and found a link to Martha Berg, who is the archivist for Rodeph Shalom synagogue in Pittsburgh (I do not believe there is an affiliation between the two synagogues). Martha did an exhaustive search for me of records, newspapers, and cemeteries, and did not turn up any identifying information that would help me establish whether the Fannie Levy buried at Troy Hill was my Fanny Wiler Levy. She did, however, find the precise burial date for the Fannie Levy buried at Troy Hill—April 17, 1877. That proved to be very helpful.

By Nyttend (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons Rodeph Shalom Synagogue in Pittsburgh

From there, I got advice from the Pennsylvania genealogy group on Facebook, suggesting I contact the Carnegie Library in Pittsburgh where they have death records for Pittsburgh dating back to 1875. I called the Carnegie Library and requested a search for a death record for Fanny Levy who died around April 17, 1877. I then sat and waited to see if they could uncover something.

Finally, a package arrived in the mail the other day, and this was inside:

This has to be my elusive cousin Fanny. She was born in Harrisburg in 1846, so would have been 31 in 1877. Her prior residence had been in Philadelphia. She was married. I am quite certain I have finally found Fanny.

So now I know that Fanny Wiler Levy died on April 16, 1877, in Pittsburgh, from phythisis pulmonalis, or the wasting form of tuberculosis. I also know now that she had only lived in Pittsburgh for a year at the time of her death, which explains why all three of her sons were born in Philadelphia. Fanny was 31 years old and left at least three very young children behind and her husband. She was one more member of my family killed by tuberculosis. It is very sad that she lies buried so far from all of her family, all of whom are buried in Philadelphia.

Finally, I have some closure on Fanny Wiler. The remaining questions? Was Bertha Levi, the child born to a Joseph Levi and a Fanny Wieler in 1866 in NYC, my Fanny’s daughter? And what happened to her? Why can’t I find Joseph and his family on either the 1870 or the 1880 census?

There are always more questions.

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The Lost Oppenheimers

My Goldschlager Cousins: New Connections and New Photos

Marriages and Disappearances

The Mystery of Fanny Wiler: Final Chapter (I think)

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