Brotman Update! The Trials and Tribulations of DNA Testing

Posted on January 5, 2015 by Amy

Animation of the structure of a section of DNA. The bases lie horizontally between the two spiraling strands. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I am now delving into a part of genealogy research that is the hardest thing I’ve yet done in this project: DNA testing. I am not and never was a science or math person. My head starts spinning when I see too many numbers and/or scientific terms. Reading about DNA results is like reading Russian or Chinese for me. The words are not at all familiar, and the numbers have no meaning in the world in which I am used to operating. Terms like SNP, centimorgan, autosomal, and others I can’t even keep in my head at all mean little or nothing to me, even after reading several articles and websites defining the terms.

I say all this by way of disclaimer. Everything I am writing about today is foreign to me, and I am still trying to get help to be able to comprehend these test results more fully and to figure out what I can learn from them.

Having said all that, here’s the story. Those who have followed this blog for a long time know that one of my brick walls was trying to find out whether my Brotman great-grandparents, Joseph and Bessie, were related to the Brotmans who settled in southern New Jersey in the 1890s and founded the town that is called Brotmanville. My Aunt Elaine had told my cousin Jody and her husband Joel that Joseph had had a brother who moved to New Jersey where the town was named after him. Through my research and contacts with members of the Brotmanville Brotman family, I learned that Moses Brotman, a contemporary of Joseph Brotman, also had a father named Abraham and also was from Galicia, as was Joseph. The Brotmanville Brotmans believed that Moses was from Przemyl, which is about 100 miles from Tarnobrzeg. But none of us had any documentation of the family in Galicia or anything more than anecdotal evidence of a connection or birthplace.

My aunt’s story about Brotmanville

So last spring I decided to try DNA testing to see if I could break through this brick wall. My first thought was to do a Y-DNA test on a male descendant of Moses and a male descendant of Joseph. It had to be a father-son-grandson-great-grandson connection to get a reliable Y chain as Y DNA is only passed from fathers to sons. I found one great-grandson of Moses Brotman who qualified and also asked one of my second cousins who was a direct male descendant of Joseph. We had the tests done by Family Tree DNA or FTDNA. It took about three months for both test results to return, and it showed that my Moses descendant Larry and my Joseph descendant Bruce shared 34 of 37 markers on their Y-DNA.

English: A DNA microarray. Français : Une puce à ADN. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I had no clue what that meant. According to a woman who works for FTDNA, it meant that there is a high likelihood of “some genetic connection,” especially since the two lines share the same surname, Brotman. By “some genetic connection,” she meant that at some point in time the NY Brotmans had a common ancestor with the Brotmanville Brotmans. It might have been as recently as Abraham Brotman, the father of Joseph and perhaps the father of Moses, or it might have been centuries ago. The fact that Bruce and Larry have 34 out of 37 markers that were identical indicates that there is some family tie—but those three different markers suggest that there were mutations. Those mutations might have occurred between Bruce and his father or his father and his grandfather or even earlier. Or they might have been on Larry’s side. There was no way to know from the Y DNA results alone.

So my contact at FTDNA suggested that the next step would be to try a different DNA test called an autosomal DNA test, which is better at predicting the degree of connection—i.e., would better tell us whether Joseph and Moses were brothers, both sons of the same Abraham Brotman. My contact at FTDNA said that if we could get two of the grandchildren of Joseph and Moses to take the autosomal test, it would tell us if they are likely second cousins.

As I understand it (and remember the disclaimer above), autosomal DNA is DNA we inherit from both of our parents. We got an X from our mothers and either a Y or an X from our fathers to determine our sex. The other 22 pairs of chromosomes are also made up of genetic material we get from both parents, and those 22 pairs are our autosomal DNA. But it is not obvious which half of each pair came from which parent. This is where I start getting that deer in headlights look and feel.

But what I’ve been told and what I’ve read indicates that autosomal DNA testing is quite useful in figuring out the degree of relationship between two people. So I asked Elaine, Moses’ granddaughter, and my mother, Joseph’s granddaughter, if they would take the autosomal DNA test through FTDNA, called the Family Finder test. If the test showed that they were second cousins, we would have fairly strong evidence that their grandfathers, Moses and Joseph, were brothers. My mother and Elaine agreed to take the test, and once again we waited for results.

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)

Those results came in about a week ago. First, I got Elaine’s results, and then a few days later, I received my mother’s results. And they matched! FTDNA predicts their relationship to be second cousins! Of course, this is not definitive proof. DNA testing is just a prediction, but at this degree of closeness, it is considered quite strong evidence, especially with the anecdotal evidence behind it, that is, the shared surnames, the shared father’s name, my aunt’s story, etc. Elaine and my mother share 334 centimorgans. That seems to suggest close cousins.

And then there was more. Although Elaine and my mother were each other’s closest matches, my mother had a second very close match to a woman named Frieda. She shared 292 centimorgans with Frieda, and Frieda was another predicted second cousin. But Elaine was not a close match to Frieda, although she was listed as a possible third to fifth cousin. So who was this Frieda? The FTDNA page listed Brod as one of her ancestral names and one of her ancestral towns as Radomysl nad Sanem, which is about 20 miles from Tarnobrzeg, where I believe Joseph and Bessie lived.

I emailed the person in charge of Frieda’s results, her niece Phyllis, and we have now started trying to figure out how Frieda is related to my mother. Since Frieda is listed as a likely second cousin, she could have shared a great-grandparent with my mother. But since Frieda is not as close a match to Elaine, they did not share a great-grandparent. That could mean that Frieda and my mother are both the great-granddaughters of the parents of Bessie Brot/Brotman whereas my mother and Elaine are both the great-granddaughters of the parents of Joseph Brotman and Moses Brotman.

And since Bessie was Joseph’s first cousin, that could explain why Elaine is a more distant cousin than my mother is to Frieda but still related to both. Elaine is not directly descended from Bessie’s line, but is directly descended from Moses Brotman, who would also have been Bessie’s first cousin if Moses and my great-grandfather Joseph were brothers. Elaine would have some of the same genetic material as Frieda as a third cousin, but not as much as she has with my mother, her presumed second cousin.

A screenshot of the chromosome browser showing where on my mother’s chromosomes Elaine and Frieda match her DNA

Have I lost you yet? I am trying to create a chart and will post it once I am sure I have it right.

This was incredible news for me. First, finding the connection between Elaine and my mother was corroborating evidence of our tie to the Brotmanville Brotmans. Second, finding Frieda gives me an opening to find out more about Bessie and Joseph and where they lived.

But I am once again at a stumbling block. Phyllis knows only that her great-grandmother, Frieda’s grandmother, was named Sabina Brod and was from Radomysl nad Sanem. She does not know anything more about Sabina’s family—who her parents were or who her siblings were. Sabina moved to Germany with her husband in the early 20^th century and died there in the 1930s. As far as Phyllis knew, Sabina had no relatives who were in the US. Neither Phyllis nor I have found any definite records of our Brod or Brodman or Brotman relatives in Galicia.

So for now all we have is the DNA results. And I am struggling to understand them and to learn more from them. And it is a struggle for me. If there is anyone out there reading this who is comfortable with this type of data, I’d love an advisor who can assist me.

But for now it feels like I have found another opening into the mystery of my Brotman ancestors. I feel one step closer to knowing where they lived and who their families were.

English: DNA replication or DNA synthesis is the process of copying a double-stranded DNA molecule. This process is paramount to all life as we know it. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Who is the little boy?

Posted on January 3, 2015 by Amy

For my first 2015 post, I have some wonderful new photos from my cousin Lou. These are photos he scanned from our mutual cousin Marjorie’s photo collection, but we don’t yet know who some of the people are in these photos. We are hoping Marjorie will be able to tell us. Some of these are quite intriguing as I am hoping that they will be photographs of family members I’ve never seen before.

For example, here is a photograph of my great-grandmother, Eva Seligman Cohen, wife of Emanuel Cohen, daughter of Bernard Seligman and Frances Nusbaum. But who is the man to her right? And who is the little boy to her left? Or is the little boy a little girl? Possibly Marjorie?

I showed my father the photograph, and he could not identify either person. Could the man be Emanuel Cohen, my great-grandfather? That would be the first photograph I’ve ever seen of him. The little boy might be one of my father’s first cousins, Maurice Cohen, Junior, or Emanuel “Buddy” Cohen. If the older man is Emanuel, the photograph had to be taken in 1926 or before, as he died in February, 1927, and this is a photograph taken in the summertime. Junior was born in 1917, Buddy in 1922, so it is possible that this is my great-grandparents standing with one of their grandsons. I hope Marjorie can help us.

Here is another photograph of that little boy. The man to his left is Stanley Cohen, my great-uncle, Marjorie’s father.

But who is the man to his right? Could it be my other great-uncle, Maurice Cohen, Senior? I’ve never seen a picture of him nor have I seen a picture of either of his two sons, Junior and Buddy. Maurice died in 1931; if this was taken in 1926 or so, this certainly could be him. Maurice would have been 38 in 1926, Stanley would have been 37.

Finally, there is this photograph of the little boy.

Who is that man? It’s not the same man standing with my great-uncle Stanley in the prior photograph. He seems to be a fair amount younger than both that other man and Stanley.

All those photographs seem to have been taken on the same day in Atlantic City, maybe around the same time as this photograph taken in 1932:

Eva M. Cohen, center, 1932 (Arthur Seligman, right)

It looks like my great-grandmother was wearing the same or a similar hat and outfit to those she was wearing in the first photograph.

I am anxious to hear what Lou learns from Marjorie when he sees her.

2014 in review: Thanks and Happy New Year!

Posted on December 31, 2014 by Amy

As 2014 draws to a close, I look back with gratitude for all the wonderful things I have experienced this year.

First and foremost, on June 5, 2014, my grandson Remy Brandon Fischer was born. He is now almost seven months old, sitting up, playing with toys, and enchanting all of us with his calm nature and sweet disposition. Remy and Nate continue to be constant sources of joy in my life.

My family has grown in other ways as well. Not only have there been new babies across my family lines, I have found more and more new cousins. This was a year when in April, we had an amazing reunion of the Brotman cousins in New York City. I got to meet several of my second cousins for the first time as well as their significant others and some of their children. It was definitely a major highlight of 2014 for me. I am hoping we can do it again soon, and I am also beginning to think about a reunion for the Rosenzweig/Goldschlager cousins also.

Ten of Joseph and Bessie's great-grandchildren on the Lower East Side

Ten of the great-grandchildren of Joseph and Bessie Brotman having lunch on the Lower East Side

On the Rosenzweig/Goldschlager side, I had a great time having lunch with my cousin Linda and her husband Harvey in Boston.

I have also been blessed with many other new cousins whom I have yet to meet in person, but with whom I have skyped, talked on the phone, or emailed. My cousin Pete has been a wonderful friend and colleague as we shared the adventures of learning about our Seligman ancestors. Gracias, mi primo, for it all. Talking to my cousin Marjorie was a special treat, as was skyping with my cousin Richard in Australia, talking to my cousin Jean in Georgia, my cousin Barry in Florida, my cousin Lois and her brother Paul, my Selinger cousins,my Kohl cousins, my Cole cousins, my Bacharach cousins, and my Cohen cousins! Thanks also to Lou for the wonderful photos of my Cohen relatives. All of these conversations and email exchanges have made this year meaningful and interesting.

In addition, I have been blessed by the help and friendship of so many genealogy researchers this year. I cannot list them all, but special thanks to my fellow bloggers Wendy, Su, Leslie (Pancho), Luanne, Alex, Stephen, Jana, Mary Anne, Charles, and all the other bloggers who have read and commented on the blog and also provided me with useful tips and research insights. And thanks to all those who have helped through JewishGen or ancestry or Facebook like Dorothee, Beate, Walter, Ralph, Ned, Renee, Matthias, and many, many others who have helped me in my search. I apologize for any names I haven’t mentioned, but the list is so long that my aging brain cells cannot retain all the names.

Thanks to all my followers and readers, whether you comment or not, whether you read once a year or every post. Although I like to think I am writing for posterity—for the future generations who cannot even read yet, it means a lot and makes doing this more fulfilling knowing that there are people out there who are reading what I write. Special thanks to my brother Ira aka my medical consultant and to Laurel aka my consultant on matters of crime and mystery and to my cousin Jody, who found my aunt’s notes on the Brotman family trees and sent me all the old family photographs from her basement.

Family Tree drawn by Elaine Goldschlager Lehbraum

And extra special thanks to my parents, who read every post, answer every question, listen to every boring detail, and support everything I do as they always have.

My daughters may not read every post, or even most posts, but I continue to hope that someday in the future they will be interested in knowing more about their family history and will have this resource to turn to for answers. My daughters are in my head and in my heart with every word I write, every document I find, and every photo I share. This is ultimately for them whether they know it or not.

And finally, for Harvey. Thank you for putting up with my obsession, for supporting it, for listening and hearing, for sharing in the journey, and for taking joy in knowing that this is something that gives me great joy and satisfaction. As with everything in our lives, I could not do this without your love and support.

Luna

The year did, of course, have its sad moments. For me, the loss of my beloved cat Luna still makes my heart ache, but those sad moments just make me that much more grateful for all the happy times that far outweigh the sad times. In addition to my genealogy adventures, I got to go to the Florida Keys twice this year and spent a great summer on the Cape. I retired from a job I loved with no regrets, and I am now able to spend my days choosing what to do and when to do it. I’ve found some meaningful volunteer activities and more time, of course, to research and blog. I’ve even started writing a novel, something I’ve always dreamed of doing.

So it’s been an amazing year in many ways, and I look forward to another productive and fascinating year ahead in 2015. Coming soon—a big breakthrough on my Brotman line! And more about the Nusbaums, and then on to my father’s maternal lines.

I close with this annual report prepared by the WordPress.com people. Thank you one and all, and happy New Year! May this be a year of happiness, health, fulfillment, and love for you all.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 22,000 times in 2014. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 8 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

The Mystery of Fanny Wiler, Part II: Answers and Questions

Posted on December 22, 2014 by Amy

With limited internet access, I am hampered, but here is Part II.

In Part I, I presented the mystery of my cousin Fanny Wiler. Was she the Fanny Wyler who married Max Michaelis in 1774? Was that Max Michaelis the man who set the awful fire that killed not only him but his daughter Rose in 1884?

Despite hours and hours of searching, I still did not know for certain that the 1874 wedding was that of my cousin Fanny Wiler. But I was feeling pretty certain. I thought my Fanny had married Max Michaels, the one who was laborer, who had died sometime before 1890 and who had lived at 2133 East Thompson Street. I was even pretty sure that this was the Max Michaels who killed himself and little Rose in the fire. But then where were Fanny and Max in 1880? I felt I was getting close. But not close enough. After the mistakes I made in my assumptions about Milton Josephs, I knew I needed to be more certain before I could reach any conclusions.

I had to find Max on that 1880 census. I felt that if I found him with a wife named Fanny and a daughter Isabella and one more child (since Rose would not have been born yet in 1882), I’d be at least one step closer. I once again tried every trick I knew to try and find who was living at 2133 East Thompson Street on the 1880 census. And then I got smart. I turned to the genealogy village. There is a Facebook group for Philadelphia genealogy. Certainly someone there would know something about Philadelphia geography and perhaps be able to help me?

You see, East Thompson Street is a very, very long street that runs many miles through Philadelphia. There were probably a hundred EDs that included some portion of East Thompson Street. Steve Morse’s site had given me about ten that were supposed to include the address of 2133, and I’d spent hours reading through those and never saw one address close to 2133. Maybe someone in the Facebook group could help?

Sure enough, within ten minutes of posting my question, Ann, a member of that group had an answer. And it wasn’t simply an answer to the geography question. She had located the family living at 2133 East Thompson Street on the 1880 census. And their names? Mex Mcles is how it was indexed on ancestry.com. Mex?? Mcles?? Sigh. No wonder I hadn’t found it.

Max, Fanny, Isabella and Charles Michaels 1880 census Year: 1880; Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: 1184; Family History Film: 1255184; Page: 52A; Enumeration District: 521; Image: 0106

Anyway, I was elated. I had the family. Max worked in a glue factory and was 36 years old, thus born in 1844, so a bit younger than the Max on the marriage record and the Max who set the fire in 1884, but given the address, this was the same Max from the directories. His wife was Fannie, aged 32, so born in 1848. Close enough to my Fanny. Isabella was five, so born in 1874-1875. And there was the other child. Charles was three years old, so born in 1876 or 1877. This was the family of the man who set the fire. I was pretty certain of that. The only curveball? The census said both Max and Fannie were born in Germany. My Fanny was born in Pennsylvania. The Fanny on the marriage record was born in Switzerland, not Germany.

My elation was soon tempered with that feeling of uncertainty. OK, this was the Max Michaels who lived on East Thompson, who married a woman named Fanny, who had a daughter named Isabella. This was the same Fanny and Isabella who lived at 918 Hutchinson Street when Isabella died in 1890. But was this my Fanny? Was this the Max who died in the 1884 fire? Did I yet have enough proof?

No. But I had a new person to search. Charles Michaels. The son. The child who was three in 1880. And that opened up some new doors. But they did not give me the answers. Or at least not the answers I wanted.

Searching for Charles Michaels led me to an entry on the 1900 census. In New York City. Not Philadelphia. The Charles Michaels on that census was born in July, 1877, in Pennsylvania. That certainly was a possible match. The listing has Charles living with his mother Fanny Michaels, born November 1846. That certainly could be my Fanny. But born in Switzerland. Hmmm. Like the Fanny Wyler on the marriage record, but not like my Fanny. The Fanny on the 1900 census reported that she had had three children, but only one was alive. That made sense. Rosa had died in the fire, Isabella had died in 1890. Only Charles was alive. I was pretty certain that this was the Fanny Michaels who had lived in Philadelphia and whose husband Max had killed himself and their daughter Rose in a fire.

Except for one problem.

Also listed living with Fanny and Charles in 1900 in New York City? Max Michaels. Born in Germany in 1841. A laborer. That sure sounds like the Max who married Fanny Wyler in 1874 and who lived at 2133 East Thompson Street. But he was supposed to be dead! Fanny had listed herself as a widow on those directories in Philadelphia. I had a death certificate for a Max Michaels who burned himself to death. How could Max be alive? Would the census taker have included Fanny’s long dead husband? By 1900 he had been dead at least ten years, according to the Philadelphia directories, or 16 years if he was the Max who killed himself in the fire. I was mystified. Confused.

Max, Fanny and Charles Michaels on 1900 census
Year: 1900; Census Place: Manhattan, New York, New York; Roll: 1085; Page: 12A; Enumeration District: 0098; FHL microfilm: 1241085

But I continued on. And I found Fanny Michaels on the 1910 census in NYC. A widow. Living as a boarder with someone named Nettie Rutlinger, also a widow. Both listed their place of birth as Switzerland. Fanny’s age lined up with my Fanny, more or less. It said she was 60, meaning born in 1850. In between the age of my Fanny and the age of the Fanny Wyler on the marriage record. And now Max was dead. If he wasn’t already dead before. I didn’t find a Max Michaels in the NYC death records between 1900 and 1910 or in the Pennsylvania death records for that period. I think the 1900 census taker had just made an error. Perhaps Fanny was asked for her husband’s information and provided it without saying he was dead. I don’t know, but I am 99% sure that the 1900 Fanny is the same Fanny whose husband and daughter died in the fire in 1884.

I could not find Fanny on the 1920 census, so I searched for a death record through the IGG site and found this:

298

Michaels

Fanny

67 y

Jan

1913

502 (1913)

Kings

1845 – 1846

1324260

That sounded like it could be the right Fanny, the wife of Max, mother of Isabella, Charles, and maybe Rosa. I decided to search for a death notice and found this one through the Fulton History website, a collection of old newspapers, mostly from NYC:

Fanny Michaels death notice Brooklyn Eagle 1913

Fanny Michaels death notice Brooklyn Standard Union January 6, 1913 p. 3

So this seemed pretty conclusive. The Fanny who died in 1913 was born in Switzerland. Nettie was her sister, also born in Switzerland. This was NOT my Fanny. It, however, does seem that this Fanny was the one who married Max Michaels in Philadelphia in 1874. She had only come to America a year before. She had been the mother of Isabella and Charles. And maybe Rose. I still don’t know. I still don’t know whether that Fanny was married to the Max Michaels who killed himself and his daughter Rose. But I think so. Except for the fact that he seemed to be alive in 1900.

But I need not look any further because I am now convinced that whoever she was, that Fanny Michaels was not my cousin. She was Fanny Wyler, born in Switzerland, not in Pennsylvania. She, not my Fanny, married Max Michaelis, who was perhaps the same Max Michaels who killed himself and his daughter Rose in a fire.

What do you think?

And meanwhile, where is MY Fanny Wiler? Was she the one working as a servant in 1880? Where was she in 1870 when the rest of her family was living together in Philadelphia?

I have no idea.

For all that work, I am back where I started. I have no idea what happened to my cousin Fanny Wiler. But at least it was an intriguing and challenging ride while it lasted.

But how can I find the real Fanny Wiler? HELP!

Boy, Is My Face Red. The Real Story of Milton Josephs’ Death and a Few Important Research Lessons

Posted on December 14, 2014 by Amy

In my earlier post this morning, I wrote about little Milton Josephs, not yet two years old, whose cause of death was listed as marasmus on the Federal Census Mortality Schedule for 1880. I was horrified that a child living in Philadelphia in a middle class home in 1880 could have died from starvation.

My medical consultant, whose expertise is in pediatrics and anesthesia (and who is also my brother, for those of you who haven’t figured it out), also thought that it seemed strange that a child would have died from severe malnutrition without there being some other underlying cause such as cancer or some syndrome that prevented him from being able to absorb nutrients.

His questions made me go back to see if I could find the actual death certificate for Milton on line. My initial searches on both ancestry.com and FamilySearch.org had failed to pick up Milton’s death certificate no matter how I tried searching or spelling his name. But this time I realized there was another way to search. Ancestry.com had a record for Milton in the index of Philadelphia death certificates, but no image of that actual certificate. But the record included the FHL film number, that is, the catalog number for the microfilm in the Family History Library in Salt Lake City.

For some reason, I’d never before tried searching by the FHL number on FamilySearch. I know to those out there who are experienced genealogists this must seem like a terrible rookie mistake, and I am quite embarrassed that I’d never thought to do that before.

But it worked. Plugging the film number into the FamilySearch search engine resulted in the retrieval of this document:

Milton Joseph’s death certificate
“Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.3.1/TH-266-11063-42231-79?cc=1320976 : accessed 14 December 2014), 004058647 > image 406 of 969; Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

It is a bit hard to read, but if you look carefully you can see that on the certificate it says Milton died from bronchial pneumonia, not marasmus. My brother agreed that this was a much more likely cause of death for a boy living at home with his family in Philadelphia than starvation, and he thought it was unlikely that somehow marasmus led to pneumonia or vice versa.

Then why would the 1880 Federal Census Mortality Schedule have said the cause of death was marasmus? Well, once again I am embarrassed. I looked more closely at the mortality schedule, and sure, it says M. Josephs, and sure, ancestry.com retrieved it as relating to Milton Josephs, but I should have looked more closely. Because now that I have looked again, I realize that the schedule says that M. Josephs was 5/12, that is, five months old.

Milton Joseph on the Federal Mortality Schedule 1880

And a little more research uncovered the death of a child name Mike Josephs who died of marasmus in December 1879 at five months of age. So stupid mistake number two: I too quickly assumed that M. Josephs was Milton without reading the document carefully and without even stopping to think that Milton had died in November, 1880, too late to have been listed on the Federal Census Mortality Schedule for 1880, which was dated May 31, 1880.

So I apologize for my carelesness and for maligning the reputation of my ancestors whose son died from pneumonia, not starvation.

Do I feel any better about Milton, knowing that he did not die from starvation? I suppose that I better understand how a toddler can die from pneumonia than starvation, especially in the era before antibiotics. But no, I don’t feel better. A little boy died what still must have been a painful death, and his family still lost a beloved child.

And another family, that of Mike Josephs, did lose a five month old baby to starvation.

There is no good news here, but I did learn a few important lessons. Thanks to my brother, I was able to find my mistakes and set the record straight.

The Long Depression: The Family of Mathilde Dreyfuss Nusbaum Pollock

Posted on December 10, 2014 by Amy



Embed from Getty Images

If the 1860s were mostly a decade of good things—weddings, babies, prosperity, and little impact from the Civil War, the 1870s were in contrast a more difficult decade for the extended Nusbaum-Dreyfuss-Dinkelspiel-Simon clan, both personally and economically. This post will focus on the family of Mathilde Dreyfuss Nusbaum Pollock, and the next will focus on the family of Caroline Dreyfuss Wiler, my two three-times great grand aunts, sisters of Jeanette Dreyfuss. The posts that follow will focus on the family of my three times great-grandparents John and Jeanette (Dreyfuss) Nusbaum and the families of John’s siblings Ernst Nusbaum, Leopold Nusbaum, and Mathilde (Nusbaum) Dinkelspiel during the 1870s.

First, the Pollocks. Mathilde (Dreyfuss Nusbaum) and Moses Pollock had relocated from Harrisburg to Philadelphia in the mid-1860s. Moses was engaged in the retail dry goods business. In June 1870 when the census was taken, the Pollocks had a very full house. Mathilde’s daughter Flora and her new husband Samuel were living with them along with their new baby Meyer. Samuel was working on the wholesale side of clothing sales. In addition, Mathilde’s son Albert Nusbaum, now 19 and working as a clerk in a dry goods store (presumably his stepfather’s business), was living with them as well as Mathilde and Moses’ children, Emanuel (14) and Miriam (11), who were both in school. In addition, there were three domestic servants living with them. Moses must have been doing quite well.

It’s a good thing they had those servants because there were also three young children living with them, Annie (5), Alice (4), and Wilhelmina Jastrow (seven months old) plus another young woman, Augusta Wolfsohn, who was 22 years old. Annie and Alice were born in Hesse-Darmstadt, but their baby sister Wilhelmina had been born in Pennsylvania in September, 1869. Who were they? Where were their parents? Augusta was born in Prussia and does not appear to be the mother of the three young girls. Who was she? None of these girls was living with the Pollocks as of the 1880 census.

Fortunately, this was a mystery that did not take long to solve. A little research on Ancestry.com, and I was able to find a happy ending to the story. The Jastrow girls had parents, Marcus and Bertha (Wolfsohn) Jastrow. By the second enumeration of the 1870 census in Philadelphia, they and their aunt Augusta Wolfsohn were all under the same roof as their parents and other siblings. I don’t know why they were with the Pollocks during the earlier enumeration, but I assume that they were very recent immigrants who did not have enough room to accommodate everyone, and Moses and Mathilde were kind enough to take in the three youngest children and their aunt.

But fate was not kind to Moses and Mathilde despite their kindness to the Jastrows. In September 1870, they had a third child together (a fifth for Mathilde), Rosia, but Rosia did not live long. On February 26, 1871, she died, only five months old, from diarrhea. Mathilde was 45 years old when Rosia was born, making me doubt my skepticism about the parentage of Lottie Nusbaum. Perhaps women just kept having babies into the mid to late 40s back then with more frequency than I would have thought.

Rosia Pollock death certificate 1871

What makes this late birth seem even stranger is that Mathilde had become a grandmother just nine months before Rosia was born when her grandson Meyer was born in January, 1870. Meyer and his parents Flora and Samuel Simon were living with the Pollocks in June of 1870 when Mathilde was pregnant with Rosia. It is hard to imagine being pregnant and a grandmother, but times were different then.

Flora (Nusbaum) and Samuel Simon were still living with Flora’s family at 911 Franklin Street in 1871, but seem to have moved to their own place in 1872, and I say “seemed to” because their address was 909 Franklin Street, so right next door to Mathilde and Moses Pollock. Then in 1873, they are back at 911 Franklin. Samuel was in business with his brother Leman in 1871, but seems to be on his own after that. He has no occupation listed in 1873 in the directory. Perhaps Flora and Simon could no longer afford to have their own place and returned to the Pollock residence.

According to the 1871 and 1872 Philadelphia directories, Moses Pollock had gone into business with his brother-in-law Moses Wiler, husband of Caroline Dreyfuss, Mathilde’s sister. By 1873 it also appears that Moses Pollock and Moses Wiler were no longer in business together. Moses Wiler is listed in the directories for 1873 and 1875 without an occupation, and Moses Pollock is listed in one as a salesman and another as a clerk.

What was going on around them? Why had these two family business partnerships ended? It’s always important to keep the historical and socioeconomic context in mind when doing family research, and perhaps the most important development both in the US and worldwide in the 1870s was the so-called “Long Depression.” The period after the Civil War brought widespread economic growth with railroad construction, technological developments, and expansion of exports to European markets. However, in a way not dissimilar to more recent economic crashes, the economy tumbled in 1873 when banks and investment firms did not realize the profits they had expected from investing in the railroads and could no longer cover the loans they had made in the frenzy of the post-Civil War boom.[1] In addition, an economic crisis abroad resulted in decreased demand for American exports.

The credit crisis led to panic with many investors withdrawing their money from the banks, thus worsening the precarious position of the banks. Although the government intervened to try and stop the crisis, the overall confidence in the economy was gone, jobs dried up, people stopped buying, and railroad construction came to a halt. There was also evidence of a great deal of corruption that was uncovered during this time. The effects of this crisis were felt across the United States for at least five years with widespread unemployment, poverty, and social unrest.

Panic of 1873 http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3APanic_of_1873_bank_run.jpg

It could very well have been this economic downturn that caused Moses Pollock and Moses Wiler to end this business partnership and also caused Leman and Samuel Simon to end their business partnership.

Moses Pollock continued to have some inconsistency in his occupation for the rest of the decade. In 1876 Mathilde and Moses Pollock are listed in business together selling “gentlemen’s furnishings” at 107 North 9^th Street and were still living at 911 Franklin Street. By 1878, they had moved to 934 North 8^th Street, where they remained for many years. Moses is listed as a salesman in the 1878, 1879, and 1880 Philadelphia directories, and according to the 1880 census he was working in a cloak store. In 1880 he and Mathilde still had Albert Nusbaum, now 28, as well as Emanuel (24) and Miriam (21) living with them at home as well as one servant. Albert had been working as a liquor salesman since 1873 when he was 21. Emanuel had been in dry goods sales since 1877 when he was 21. Miriam and her mother Mathilde were “keeping house.”

Mathilde’s other daughter, Flora (Nusbaum) Simon and her husband Samuel meanwhile had had a second child. Their daughter Minnie was born in 1873 or 1874 (documents vary). Flora and Samuel seem to have moved out of the Pollock household sometime shortly thereafter and out of Philadelphia altogether by the end of the decade and perhaps even earlier. It’s hard to know for sure because Samuel Simon was not an uncommon name.

There are three Samuel Simons listed in the 1874 Philadelphia directory: one was a laborer, one a restaurant worker, and a third was working in the ladies’ furnishings business. None of the addresses line up with other members of the family, so I cannot tell which, if any of these Samuel Simons were married to Flora. The ladies’ furnishings Samuel seems like the most likely, given the family’s pre-existing businesses, but I cannot be sure. In 1875, there are two Samuel Simons, a laborer and a gardener. Neither one seems likely to be Flora’s Samuel.

In 1876, there is only one Samuel Simon listed, a superintendent, and in 1877 again only one, a furrier. In 1878 there was only Samuel the laborer, but in 1879 there were three Samuels: the laborer, the gardener, and a third selling produce. My best hunch is that Samuel and Flora (Nusbaum) Simon had left Philadelphia by 1875. According to the 1880 census, they were then living in Elkton, Maryland, about 50 miles from Philadelphia and 60 miles from Baltimore. Samuel was working at a hotel there. Again, my assumption is that the economic slowdown had contributed to this move away from their families in Philadelphia.

As will be evident as I examine each of the families, the Pollock line was not the only one that felt the impact of the Long Depression of the 1870s.

[1] I am greatly oversimplifying the causes and the effects of the Long Depression that began in 1873. For more information, see http://www.socialwelfarehistory.com/eras/the-long-depression/ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panic_of_1873 http://macromarketmusings.blogspot.com/2010/05/about-that-long-depression-of-1870s_27.html

Four Weddings and a Funeral: More Twists and Turns

Posted on December 8, 2014 by Amy

My last post covered the migration of several Nusbaum/Dreyfuss family members to Peoria, Illinois in the 1860s. Meanwhile, back in Pennsylvania, the rest of the Nusbaum/Dreyfuss clan was growing during the 1860s. In Philadelphia, two of the Nusbaum brothers and two of the Dreyfuss sisters were seeing their families grow and their children grow. Other family members were still in Harrisburg. By the end of the decade, even more of the family would have relocated to Philadelphia.

The Civil War was having at least some minor financial impact on the family. For example, John Nusbaum was liable for $26.79 in income tax to the federal government in 1862 under the terms of the Internal Revenue Act of 1862. That law was enacted to raise money to help pay for the expenses incurred by the Union in fighting the Civil War. It was the first progressive income tax imposed by the federal government. For anyone whose income exceeded $600 a year, a tax was imposed based on the level of income.

For John Nusbaum, whose income was valued at $892.96 in 1862, that meant a tax of $26.79. According to one inflation calculator, $892.96 in 1862 would be worth about $20,000 in 2014. For someone with stores in Philadelphia and Peoria (and possibly still some interest in a store in Harrisburg) and who reported $6000 in real estate and $20,000 in personal property in 1860,[1] that does not seem like a lot of income, but I have no idea how that was determined back then.

Ancestry.com. U.S. IRS Tax Assessment Lists, 1862-1918 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations Inc, 2008.

By 1863 John and Jeanette (Dreyfuss) Nusbaum, my three-times great-grandparents, had seen their two older sons move to Peoria, but they still had one son, Julius, and two daughters at home in 1863: Frances, my great-great-grandmother, who was eighteen, and Miriam, who was only five years old in 1863. Plus 1863 had started off with another new baby in the family. Lottie Nusbaum was born on January 1, 1863. Jeanette would have been almost 46 years old, and her first born child Adolphus was going on 23.

I have to admit that I have some questions about whether Lottie was actually the child of John and Jeanette. Jeanette must have been close to the end of her child-bearing years. They had not had a child in five years. Could Lottie have been a child of one of their sons, raised as the child of her actual grandparents? Or a child they adopted? I have no way of knowing. Lottie had no children, so even if I could figure out some way to use DNA to answer my doubts, there are no descendants to use for DNA testing.

On Lottie’s death certificate, the informant was Mrs. E. Cohen, that is, my great-grandmother Eva Seligman Cohen, Lottie Nusbaum’s niece and Frances Nusbaum Seligman’s daughter. Eva filled in the father’s name as John, but put unknown for the mother’s maiden name. Eva certainly knew her grandmother Jeanette’s name. (Eva is the one who held and maintained the family bible for many years.) Did she not know her grandmother’s maiden name? Was she too grief-stricken to remember? Or was she suggesting that Jeanette was not in fact Lottie’s real mother? I do not know, and there is no one left to ask. But it did not do anything to resolve my doubts about the identity of Lottie’s parents. Maybe I am too skeptical. Maybe she was just a menopause baby. Maybe John and Jeanette were missing their boys so much that they decided to have one more child. Or maybe not. What do you all think?

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

In any event, just as John and Jeanette were emptying their household of their sons, they had a new baby to raise. The family was still living at 433 Vine Street in 1862, according to the Philadelphia city directory, but in 1864 they are listed at 455 York Avenue. That address is about two and a half miles north of Vine Street, and as I’ve discussed earlier, Jews began to move north in Philadelphia as their socioeconomic status improved.

By 1865, John and Jeanette’s house on York Avenue was a little emptier. By that time Julius had joined his brothers in Peoria, and on March 28, 1865, my great-great-grandmother Frances married Bernard Seligman. For several years they lived in Philadelphia, and Bernard was apparently in business with his brothers-in-law in a firm called Nusbaum Brothers and Company. They had four children between 1866 and 1869, including my great-grandmother Eva. Then in 1870, Bernard returned full time to Santa Fe with Frances and their children where Frances and Bernard lived for almost all of the rest of their lives, as discussed in my Seligman blog posts.

Nusbaum Brothers and Company 1867 Philadelphia Directory
Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1821-1989 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2011.

John’s brother Ernst was also in Philadelphia during the early 1860s. He was a clothier, working at 55 North Third Street and living at 626 North 6^th Street. He and his wife Clarissa had another child in 1861, Frank, bringing their family up to six children ranging in age from newborn to ten years old. So both Ernest, who was 45 when Frank was born, and John, who was 49 when Lottie was born, had new babies in their homes in the 1860s.

Jeanette (Dreyfuss) Nusbaum also had a sibling living in Philadelphia. Her sister Caroline (Dreyfuss) Wiler had also moved from Harrisburg to Philadelphia by 1860. She and her husband Moses Wiler were living at 466 North 4^th Street in 1862 with their four children, who ranged in age from Eliza who was twenty to Clara who was twelve. Moses was in the cloak business.

The following year the Wiler household became a bit smaller when Eliza Wiler married Leman Simon on September 9, 1863, in Philadelphia. Yes, Leman Simon. Do you remember that name? He was the brother of Moses Simon, who married Paulina Dinkelspiel and started the migration of Nusbaums to Peoria. So once again, my family tree groans and twists a bit. Eliza and Paulina were already related, at least by marriage. Eliza’s mother Caroline Dreyfuss was the sister-in-law of John Nusbaum, Paulina Dinkelspiel’s uncle. Sometimes these people make me want to pull out my hair! Imagine, I am casually researching Eliza, and I see her husband’s name and think, “Leman Simon. Hmmm, that sounds familiar.”

So by 1863 the Simons, Nusbaums, Dinkelspiels, and Dreyfusses were all somehow interrelated, often in more than one way.

But it gets worse.

By 1866, Moses Pollock and Mathilde (Dreyfuss Nusbaum) Pollock had also moved to Philadelphia from Harrisburg. In 1868, Flora Nusbaum, the daughter of Mathilde Dreyfuss and Maxwell Nusbaum and step-daughter of Moses Pollock, married Samuel Simon. I have mentioned this before because Flora Nusbaum is my double first cousin four times removed since both of her parents were siblings of one of my three times great-grandparents, Flora’s father being John Nusbaum’s brother, her mother being Jeanette Dreyfuss Nusbaum’s sister. Now Flora was marrying her first cousin Paulina’s brother-in-law Samuel Simon, who was also her cousin Eliza’s brother-in law.

Groan…. Maybe this chart will help.

So all three Simon brothers were now married to someone in the clan: Samuel to Flora Nusbaum, Leman to Eliza Wiler, and Moses to Paulina Dinkenspiel.

The wedding of Samuel Simon to Flora Nusbaum (Pollock) seems to have been a celebration worthy of all that interconnectedness. Here is an article from the Harrisburg Telegraph of October 20, 1868, republishing an article from the Philadelphia Sunday Mercury that described their Philadelphia wedding. It’s really worth reading to get the full flavor of both the wedding and “social media” in the 1860s.

The strangest part of this article is not the detailed description of the lavish, extravagant wedding celebration, but the reporter’s mistaken assertion that Flora was not Jewish. Certainly her parents were both Jewish, and even her stepfather Moses Pollock was Jewish. The reporter’s statement that “the pure religion of love had broken down all sectarian barriers” seems a bit strange for a wedding announcement, even if it had been an interfaith wedding. But why would the reporter have thought Flora wasn’t Jewish?

The overlapping branches of the family were well represented in the bridal party: Clara Wiler and Simon Wiler, the children of Moses and Caroline (Dreyfuss) Wiler; Frances Nusbaum, the daughter of John and Jeanette (Dreyfuss) Nusbaum; Arthur Nusbaum, son of Ernst and Clara Nusbaum; and Albert Nusbaum, son of Maxwell and Mathilde (Dreyfuss) Nusbaum and brother of the bride. I do not know who the Schloss family is or the Goldsmiths, at least not yet, but I fear more double twists yet to be uncovered.

So the extended family was doing quite well, and there were lots of new families being formed and babies born, but unfortunately there also was one big loss in the 1860s. Leopold Nusbaum, who was still living in Harrisburg in the 1860s, died on December 24, 1866. He was buried at Mt. Sinai Cemetery in Philadelphia. His widow Rosa and sixteen year old daughter Francis moved shortly thereafter to Philadelphia, where they moved in with John and Jeanette Nusbaum, whose household had been reduced by two when Julius moved to Peoria and Frances married.

Below is a photo I found while searching for old images of Harrisburg. I was so excited when I saw the name on the store at the far upper right—Leo Nusbaum! Although this photo was dated 1889, Leopold Nusbaum’s name was still on the store even though he had died almost 25 years earlier.

Harrisburg Market Square with Leo Nusbaum store http://explorepahistory.com/displayimage.php?imgId=1-2-EC

The only Nusbaum family members left in Harrisburg by the end of the 1860s were Mathilde (Nusbaum) Dinkenspiel, her husband Isaac, and their daughter Sophia. Their daughter Paulina (Dinkenspiel) Simon was living in Baltimore, and their son Adolph was in Peoria. Their youngest child Sophia married Herman Marks, a Prussian born clothing merchant, in 1869, and they settled in Harrisburg as well. Perhaps they were the ones to keep Mathilde’s brother’s name on the store.

Thus, by the end of the 1860s, most of the extended family was living in Philadelphia, with a small number living in Peoria, a few in Harrisburg, and a few in Baltimore.

[1] $600 in 1860 would be worth about $17,000 today, and $20,000 in 1860 would be worth about $571,000 today. Not too shabby for someone who had come to America around 1840.

Caps for Sale: Peddlers and Merchants

Posted on November 20, 2014 by Amy

As I wrote in my last post, by 1852 or before, five of the eight children of Amson and Voegele Nusbaum had settled in Pennsylvania. Two of the siblings had settled in Harrisburg, one in Lewistown, one in Blythe, and one in Philadelphia. According to the 1850 census, John Nusbaum was a merchant in Harrisburg, and his brother-in-law Isaac Dinkelspiel was a peddler there, married to John’s sister Mathilde. Leopold Nusbaum was a butcher in Blythe, Maxwell was a merchant in Lewistown, and Ernst was a merchant in Philadelphia.

It is not surprising to me that Ernst would have settled in Philadelphia, which, as I have written about in the context of my Cohen ancestors, had a fairly large German Jewish community by the mid 1800s. But why were John Nusbaum and Isaac Dinkelspiel and their families in Harrisburg? Even more surprising, what were Leopold and Maxwell doing in relatively small towns like Lewistown and Blythe? What would have taken these new German Jewish immigrants away from the big cities and to smaller towns and cities in Pennsylvania?

The choice of Harrisburg is not really that surprising. By the time John Nusbaum arrived in the US, perhaps as early as 1840 or even before but certainly by 1850, Harrisburg had been the Pennsylvania state capital for many years already, i.e., since 1812. It had been settled in the early 18^th century and because of its location on the Susquehanna River where there was an opening between the mountains, it had developed into an important trading post for trade and expansion to the west. By the 1830s the railroad and the Pennsylvania Canal passed through Harrisburg, further increasing its economic importance for westward expansion. By 1840 the population of Harrisburg was almost six thousand people. By comparison, the population of Philadelphia in 1840 was over 93,000 people.

Capitol. (Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.), by A. G. Keet (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jewish immigrants began to arrive in Harrisburg in the 1840s, primarily from Germany and England. The first synagogue, Ohev Sholom, was begun in 1853, first as an Orthodox congregation, and then in 1867 it became a Reform congregation. The Jewish population, however, was not very large. There were sixteen members of the congregation in 1853, and even as late as 1900 there were only 35 members.

So how would my three-times great-grandfather John Nusbaum have ended up here? I do not know for sure, but I can speculate that like many German Jewish immigrants, he arrived in Harrisburg as a peddler and, once finding a strong and stable economic base there, eventually opened his own store. Harrisburg was obviously an important location for trade not only for its residents but also for those who stopped there as they moved westward in the United States. It was likely an ideal location for a merchant. Unlike his three-times great-granddaughter (and her immediate relatives), he must have been a very able entrepreneur.

This pathway to economic success—from peddler to merchant—was quite common among German Jewish immigrants. According to Hasia Diner in “German Jews and Peddling in America,” (hereinafter “Peddling”) located here:

In Nashville, 23 percent of the adult male Jews in 1860 peddled, as did 25 percent of those in Boston between 1845 and 1861. In Easton, Pennsylvania, a town which occupied the strategic meeting point of the Delaware and Lehigh Rivers, 46 percent peddled in 1840, but just five years later, the number jumped to 70 percent. By 1850 the number had dropped to 55 percent, still a significant figure for any one occupation among a relatively small number of people. Of the 125 Jewish residents in Iowa in the 1850s, 100 peddled around the state, as did two-thirds of all the Jews in Syracuse, New York in that same decade before the Civil War.

See also Rudolf Glanz, “Notes on Early Jewish Peddling in America,” Jewish Social Studies ( Indiana University Press, Vol. 7, No. 2, April, 1945) located here.

In a different article, “German Immigrant Period in the United States,” (hereinafter “German Immigrant”) located here in the Jewish Women’s Archive, Hasia Diner explained why peddling was so widespread among German Jewish immigrants.

Americans in the hinterlands had little access to finished goods of all sorts, since few retail establishments existed outside the large cities. Jewish men overwhelmingly came to these remote areas as peddlers, an occupation that required little capital for start-up and that fit the life of the single man. In the large regional cities, Jewish immigrant men would load themselves up with a pack of goods, weighing sometimes as much as one hundred pounds, and then embark on a journey by foot, or eventually, if a peddler succeeded, by horse and wagon.

In “German Immigrant,” Diner opined that because many of these German Jewish immigrants came as single men, they were not tied down to families in a particular location when they first arrived and could thus take on the itinerant life of the peddler. In her “Peddling” article, Diner further explained the popularity of peddling, pointing out that many of these German Jewish men came from families in Germany where their fathers had been peddlers. That was certainly true for John Nusbaum and his brothers; their father Amson had been a peddler. This was an occupation with which they were familiar. Diner also stated that the Jewish German immigrants had networks of families and friends who could extend credit and help them get started on a peddling business.

19th century etching of a peddler by Granger found at http://fineartamerica.com/featured/1-peddler-19th-century-granger.html

In “Peddling,” Diner provided this vivid description of the life of the peddler:

The peddlers operated on a weekly cycle. They left their base on Sunday or Monday, depending on how far they had to go. They would, if necessary, take the railroad or canal barges to get to their territories. They peddled all week and on Friday headed back to the town from which they had gotten their goods. Here on the Jewish Sabbath and, depending on geography, on Sundays as well, they rested, experiencing fellowship with the other immigrant Jewish peddlers who also operated out of this town. The peddlers engaged with the settled Jewish families, some of whom either operated boarding houses for peddlers or merely extended home hospitality to the men during their brief respites off the road. On the weekends the peddlers could partake of Sabbath religious services and consume some of the good food associated with Jewish holy time, food prepared in the distinctive manners of the various central European regions. Saturday night, after sundown, when the restrictions of the Sabbath lifted, the peddlers came to the shopkeepers and or other creditors to whom they owed money, paid up from the goods they had sold that week, and then filled up their bags, ready for another week on the road.

Rudolf Glanz wrote in “Notes on Early Jewish Peddling in America,” Jewish Social Studies ( Indiana University Press, Vol. 7, No. 2, April, 1945) located here, that these that peddlers played a crucial role in the economic growth and population growth in the unsettled parts of the United States in the 19^th century because they provided the pioneers with access to goods that they otherwise would not have had. This freed the pioneers from having to carry or manufacture these products themselves as they migrated west, thus enabling them to survive and adapt to the frontier conditions. Glanz, pp. 121-122. Diner described in “Peddling” the types of goods these peddlers generally sold:

The peddlers did not sell food or fuel. Rather they sold a jumble of goods that might be considered quasi-luxuries. In their bags they carried needles, threads, lace, ribbons, mirrors, pictures and picture frames, watches, jewelry, eye glasses, linens, bedding, and other sundry goods, sometimes called “Yankee notions.” They carried some clothing and cloth, as well as patterns for women to sew their own clothes, and other items to be worn. At times they carried samples of clothes and shoes, measured their customers, and then on return visits brought the finished products with them. When the peddlers graduated from selling from packs on their backs to selling from horse and wagon, they offered more in the way of heavy items, such as stoves and sewing machines.

As Diner points out, often these peddlers were the first Jews in a particular town or village. Once a peddler had saved enough money to start a permanent store and become a merchant, they would often pick one of these towns where they had had success as peddlers, gotten to know the residents, and established a rapport and a reputation. Both Diner and Glanz discuss this evolution from peddler to merchant. According to Diner in “Peddling,” most peddlers did not peddle for long periods, but were able to become storeowners, marry, and start families within a reasonably short period of time. Most became at least moderately successful, and some became the owners of some of the biggest department stores in the US, such as Gimbel’s and Macy’s.

My hypothesis is that John Nusbaum also started out as a peddler. He must have started from Philadelphia or perhaps New York as a single man and peddled goods through Pennsylvania until he accumulated enough capital and was able to settle in Harrisburg, a prime location for a merchant for the reasons stated above. Perhaps it was only once he had done so that he married Jeanette and started a family in the 1840s.

When his brother-in-law Isaac Dinkelspiel arrived with his wife Mathilde Nusbaum Dinkelspiel sometime later, it would have made sense for them to settle in Harrisburg. Since Isaac also started out as a peddler, as seen on the 1850 census, as a married peddler with children, it is not surprising that they would have moved to a place where Mathilde would have had family nearby while her husband Isaac was on the road. In addition, it is very likely that John was supplying Isaac with the products he was peddling. According to Diner, it was Jewish merchants who supplied the peddlers with the goods that they then carried out to the less settled regions to sell to those who lived there. Jewish peddlers needed Jewish merchants for their inventory, and Jewish merchants benefited from the increased market they could reach through the peddlers.

Maxwell, John’s youngest brother, was also a merchant by 1850, but he was in Lewistown, sixty miles from Harrisburg and about 160 miles from Philadelphia. What was he doing there? Unlike Harrisburg, it was not the state capital, and unlike Philadelphia, it was not a major seaport city. But it was by 1850 itself an important trading center based on its location near the Pennsylvania Canal and the railroads. Mifflin County, where Lewistown is located, had a population of close to 15,000 people in 1850 so it was not an insignificant location. I assume that Maxwell, arriving after his brother John, had also started as a peddler, selling the wares he obtained from his brother, and traveling around the state, until he was able to save enough money and establish a store in his own territory, close enough to his brothers, but not so close as to compete for business.

Lewistown Narrows http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:PRR(1893)_p092_LEWISTOWN_NARROWS.jpg

According to the JewishGen KehillaLinks page for Lewistown, Pennsylvania, found here , the Mifflin County Historical Society had no records of Jews before 1862, but obviously Maxwell was already there. In fact, there was a street named for him:

A map of Lewistown in 1870 shows that Nathan Frank had a store at Brown and Market Streets, listed in a business directory of the time as Franks — Dry Goods, Carpets, Clothing, Furnishings, Goods, Etc.” Spruce Street was at that time listed as Nusbaum Street and in April, 1880 M. Nusbaum — Clothing & Gents Furnishings was advertised. By 1907 however Nusbaum & Co. was no longer listed in the directory.

The biggest mystery to me is why Leopold Nusbaum ended up in Blythe as a butcher. Blythe is sixty miles from Harrisburg and a hundred miles from Philadelphia. Like Lewistown, it was also located near railroads and the canals. I cannot find anything about its population in 1850, but even today its population is under a thousand. Schuykill County, where Blythe is located, however, had an overall population of over sixty thousand in 1850, which was a doubling of its 1840 population. Something must have been happening there, but I’ve not yet been able to figure out why its population exploded in that ten year period. Perhaps that explains why Leopold was living there with his wife Rosa and two young sons in 1850. But why was he a butcher? Certainly he could not have been a kosher butcher; even today the Jewish population of Blythe is 0%. At any rate, by 1860, as we will see, Leopold and his family had left Blythe and moved to Harrisburg, where Leopold also followed in his brother’s footsteps and became a merchant.

Thus, the Nusbaum story is not unlike the story of many of those German Jewish immigrants who came to the US, started off as peddlers, and then became merchants, owning stores all over the United States. It must have taken a lot of hard work and a courageous spirit to move to this new country, carrying a heavy pack hundreds of miles through undeveloped territory, dealing with strangers who spoke a strange language, on your own and alone for most of the week. It must have taken much determination and persistence to do this week after week, maybe for a few years or more, until you had made enough money to find one town to settle in and establish a store. And then it must have been a hard life, living as perhaps the only Jewish family in that town far away from other family members and other Jews. In my posts to follow, I will trace the lives of my Nusbaum peddler and merchant relatives and how they progressed in America.

The Life of Otis Perry Seligman: The “Scandal in Santa Fe” as told by his son

Posted on November 6, 2014 by Amy

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Arthur Seligman’s son Otis ran into trouble with the law in 1932 when he was indicted for embezzling money from the First National Bank of Santa Fe, where he worked as an assistant cashier and where his father, the governor of New Mexico, was the president. It could have been a scandal that cost his father the election, but it did not.

Rather than retelling the story in my words, I am going to let Arthur Scott, my cousin and the son of Otis Seligman, tell his father’s story. His biography of his father is found on the vocesdesantafe website here, and I am also linking to it in pdf format at Otis_P_seligman I will quote just a bit here to establish the background:

On September 12, 1932 Time Magazine noted “A Federal Grand Jury indicted Otis Perry Seligman, cashier of the First National Bank of Santa Fe, N. Mex. for an alleged shortage of $25,941 in his accounts. Said his father, Governor Arthur Seligman, president of the bank, after making good the shortage: “He will have to take his medicine.” Nine other bank employees were also indicted. The total amount missing was reported by Bank Examiners as $72, 941.23.

He and eight others pled guilty. One pled not guilty. Otis was sentenced to a total of 30 years but the sentences ran concurrently so that the maximum time served would be five years. In addition he was fined $10,000 payable to the US prior to release. He received the harshest sentence because, as an assistant cashier, he was considered a supervisor and officer of the bank.

On September 8, 1932 he and six others were sentenced to terms in Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary in Leavenworth, Kansas. Two were given suspended sentences and one (Trujillo) was tried, found guilty and sent to La Tuna Federal Prison in Texas. My father began serving his sentence in Leavenworth on October 8, 1932. His father, mother, wife, and group of friends saw him off at the Albuquerque train station while he was in custody of US Marshals.

I hope that you will all read the whole essay to get the full picture of Otis Perry Seligman. There are also some wonderful photographs included with the essay. It is a powerful essay written with heart but with objective eyes. To get a sense of the impact this had on the family of Otis Seligman, I also recommend reading Pete’s essay about his mother’s life at Doris_Lillian_Gardiner

Otis Perry Seligman was a man who made mistakes. He, his wife, and his children all paid for those mistakes, and yet their story is a story of forgiveness.

Arthur Seligman, My Great-great Uncle, Part I: Child of Immigrant to a Business and Political Leader

Posted on October 30, 2014 by Amy

Arthur Seligman 1903 courtesy of Arthur Scott

My great-grandmother’s younger brother Arthur was the youngest child of Bernard and Frances Seligman, my great-great-grandparents, and the only one who was born in Santa Fe. He rose to the highest heights in New Mexico, elected twice to serve as the governor. His story is another remarkable one—the story of the son of a German Jewish immigrant who less than 80 years after his father first arrived in America was elected governor in a state with a very small Jewish population.

There are many sources outlining Arthur’s life as well as many primary sources. I relied in part on Ralph Emerson Twitchell, Old Santa Fe: The Story of New Mexico’s Ancient Capital (Rio Grande Press 1925), pp. 477-478; the article on Arthur Seligman on the National Governor’s Association website; the article in The Dictionary of American Biography; and the vocesdesantafe website for much of the general background, but also used many primary sources such as newspaper articles, census reports, and school and city directories to fill in the details.

Arthur was born on June 14, 1871. He grew up in Santa Fe and made several trips as a young child on the Santa Fe Trail back East with his mother to visit her family. He attended public school in Santa Fe, and then in 1885 he, along with his older sister Minnie and brother James, traveled across the country to Philadelphia where Arthur, Minnie, and James attended Swarthmore, as had their older sister Eva, my great-grandmother, before them. Arthur then attended Pierce Business College in Philadelphia.

When he returned to Santa Fe after college, he worked as a clerk and then as a bookkeeper at his family’s business, Seligman Brothers. In 1896 when he was 25, he married Frankie E. Harris, usually referred to as Franc.

Cuyahoga County Archive; Cleveland, Ohio; Cuyahoga County, Ohio, Marriage Records, 1810-1973; Volume: Vol 42-43; Page: 489; Year Range: 1892 Sep – 1896 Jul

She was four years his senior and a widow with an eight year old daughter named Richie Harris. Although they were married in Ohio where Franc had been living, they moved to Santa Fe after they married, and Richie took Arthur’s surname as her own. It’s not clear whether Arthur ever legally adopted Richie since she is identified as his step-daughter on the 1900 and 1910 census reports. I am curious as to how Arthur met Franc, but so far I have not been able to find an answer.

On February 14, 1898, Arthur and Franc’s son Otis Perry Seligman was born. On the 1900 census, Arthur listed his occupation as “merchant dry goods.” When the Seligman Brothers business incorporated in 1903, Arthur was named treasurer and secretary of the corporation with his older brother James serving as president and general manager. On the 1910 census, he still listed his occupation as a dry goods merchant.

But at the same time that he was helping to run the business, Arthur was also very involved in local politics. As early as 1893 when he was 22, Arthur was already serving as a clerk in the local elections that year. (“Election Proclamation,” Santa Fe New Mexican (March 23, 1893), p. 4). In 1896 he was elected to be a delegate to the state Democratic Party convention in Santa Fe. (“Democratic Primaries,” Santa Fe New Mexican (May 25, 1896), p. 4) That same year he was also nominated as a candidate on the Populist ticket at their convention in Santa Fe. (“Populists in Council,” Santa Fe New Mexican (October 28, 1896), p. 4)

In 1900 Arthur was a candidate for county commissioner on the Democratic ticket. (“Personal Mention,” Santa Fe New Mexican (October 26, 1900), p. 4) He ended up defeating his Republican opponent in a close race where most Democrats on the ticket lost in the election. (“The Official Count,” Santa Fe New Mexican (November 13, 1900), p.4) In fact, the race was so close that his opponent challenged the results. (“Election Contests,” Santa Fe New Mexican (December 13, 1900), p. 4) His opponent claimed that Arthur had used intimidation to discourage his opponent’s supporters from voting.

(“Election Contests,” Santa Fe New Mexican (December 13, 1900), p. 4

Although I could not find a follow-up article regarding this challenge, I assume it was unsuccessful. Arthur served on the County Commission for many years and was soon its chairman.

In 1903 he also served as treasurer of the New Mexico commission to prepare for the St. Louis World’s Fair. (“World’s Fair Commission,” Albuquerque Daily Citizen (June 3, 1903), p.5) In 1905 he was serving as the chairman of the Santa Fe County Commission. In that capacity he was active in arguing in favor of statehood for New Mexico. (“They Want Their Debts All Paid,” Albuquerque Citizen (December 11, 1905), p. 6) He was a delegate to the New Mexico Democratic Convention in 1906. (“Aftermath of Democratic Convention,” Albuquerque Citizen (September 14, 1906), pp. 1, 5)

In April, 1910, Arthur was elected mayor of Santa Fe by 193 votes. (“Democrats Take All in Santa Fe, Arthur Seligman Mayor by a Majority of 193,” Santa Fe New Mexican (April 6, 1910), p. 8) Two years later, however, he was defeated by his Republican opponent for mayor, Celso Lopez. (“Twenty-One Towns Elect Officers,” The Kenna Record (April 12, 1912), p. 8)

New Mexico become a state on January 6, 1912, and Arthur became involved in statewide politics. When the chairman of the state Democratic Party resigned in January 1912, Arthur was named as a potential replacement. (“Democratic State Chairman to Resign,” Santa Fe New Mexican (January 31, 1912), p. 5) A later article, however, indicates that Arthur did not then serve as chairman, but as secretary of the Democratic Party in New Mexico in 1912. (“Congressman H.B. Fergusson Renominated by Democrats,” Las Cruces Sun-News (September 13, 1912), p. 1). In 1912 he was also serving on the Natural Resources Commission (Ancestry.com. Polk’s Arizona and New Mexico pictorial state gazetteer and business directory : 1912-1913. [database on-line]. Provo, UT: The Generations Network, Inc., 2005). He also served as Road Commissioner and was responsible for some important improvements to the roads and bridges in New Mexico. (See, e.g., “Road Bond Deal Finally Closed by Treasurer,” Albuquerque Journal (July 8, 1915), p. 3; there are many other articles about Seligman’s role on the Road Commission on newspapers.com and on genealogybank.com; see also Twitchell, op.cit.)

In September, 1916, he was elected chairman of the State Democratic Party. (“New Mexico State News,” Estrella (September 16, 1916), p. 3). The Democrats did well in the 1916 election in New Mexico, and the Albuquerque Journal praised Arthur’s work as chair:

(“Arthur Seligman’s Work,” Albuquerque Journal (November 12, 1916), p. 6).

The election was not without some controversy, however, as the Republicans ran a rather nasty ad attacking Arthur Seligman:

(Western Liberal (October 27, 1916), p. 7)

The ad insinuated that Seligman had schemed to advance his own interests and that of the banks in the context of a bond issue to finance road improvements when he was serving as Road Commissioner. Although I cannot find any more about these claims and cannot even understand much of what the ad is alleging, it does not appear that this ad hurt Seligman himself or the Democratic candidates in the 1916 election.

In 1920, Arthur was still serving as Chairman of the Democratic Party Committee, but apparently faced some opposition to his continued service. (“M’Adoo in Favor With Democrats,” The Deming Headlight (June 4, 1920), p. 1) However, he defeated that opposition and continued serve as state chairman after the convention. (“Arthur Seligman Chosen Chairman for Another Term,” Albuquerque Journal (August 27, 1920), p. 1)

Despite his heavy involvement in political matters, Arthur still listed his occupation as a dry good merchant on the 1920 census. Franc’s daughter Richie, meanwhile, had married John Whittier March and had had a son George in 1919. Franc and Arthur’s son Otis was working as a bank clerk in 1920 and living with his parents in 1920. In June 1921 Otis married Doris Gardiner.

The Seligman Family in the 1920s Arthur, Doris (Otis’ wife), Mary Ann Gardiner (Doris’ mother) , Franc, and Otis Courtesy of Arthur Scott

The 1920s brought even greater political success to Arthur. By 1921, there was talk that he might be a candidate for governor in 1922. (“Governorship Race May Be Largely Battle of Santa Fe for Both Parties,” Albuquerque Journal (December 21, 1921), p. 1). Although he was not nominated as a gubernatorial candidate in 1922, he was promoted to the national Democratic Committee representing New Mexico. In turn, he resigned as state party chair and was praised by many for his long service on behalf of Democrats in New Mexico although one delegate spoke against him. (“Arthur Seligman Boosted to National Committee,” Albuquerque Journal (February 24, 1922), p. 1)

Strangely, I could not find many news articles mentioning Arthur Seligman between 1923 and 1929 on either newspapers.com or genealogybank.com, although he was still serving as the New Mexico national committeeperson for the Democratic Party during those years according to the few news articles that mentioned him. (E.g., “Santa Fe is for Al Smith,” Estrella (May 12, 1928), p. 3)

Meanwhile, his business career was changing as well. In 1925, he was not only running Seligman Brothers, he was also president of the First National Bank of Santa Fe. (“New Mexico State Items,” Estrella (June 20, 1925), p. 2) Ralph Emerson Twitchell wrote that Arthur had been vice-president of the bank since 1912 and became president in 1924. In the 1928 Santa Fe directory, he is listed only as president of the bank with someone named Evelyn Conway now running Seligman Brothers.

By 1929, Arthur Seligman was already a very successful man both in politics and in business, but he was not done yet, and in 1930 when he was 59 years old, he achieved what would probably have been amazing to his parents, both of whom had died many years before—he was elected governor of New Mexico.

Brotmanblog: A Family Journey

Adventures in Genealogy

Category Archives: Miscellaneous information and updates

Brotman Update! The Trials and Tribulations of DNA Testing

Who is the little boy?

2014 in review: Thanks and Happy New Year!

The Mystery of Fanny Wiler, Part II: Answers and Questions

Boy, Is My Face Red. The Real Story of Milton Josephs’ Death and a Few Important Research Lessons

The Long Depression: The Family of Mathilde Dreyfuss Nusbaum Pollock

Four Weddings and a Funeral: More Twists and Turns

Caps for Sale: Peddlers and Merchants

The Life of Otis Perry Seligman: The “Scandal in Santa Fe” as told by his son

Arthur Seligman, My Great-great Uncle, Part I: Child of Immigrant to a Business and Political Leader

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: