My Cohn Cousins: Journalism, Sports, and, Most Importantly, Family and Love

Posted on August 31, 2015 by Amy

The first post about my cousin Bob Cohn and his family discussed the lives of his grandparents—both Joseph and Rose (Kornfeld) Cohn, his paternal grandparents, and Minnie and Moses Kremenko, his maternal grandparents. It also discussed his parents, Harold and Teddi (Kremenko) Cohn and their untimely deaths, which left Bob and his brother Paul as orphans at a young age. Bob and Paul went to live with their aunt and uncle, Beatrice (Kremenko) and Sol Berman, after their mother’s death in 1945.

Despite these tragic losses, both Bob and Paul went on to enjoy successful careers and full family lives. Bob wrote:

Seven years later [in 1952] I joined the United States Air Force for four years and served in Texas, Alaska, and Montgomery [Alabama] editing base newspapers. When I was discharged from Maxwell Air Force Base in Montgomery I used the GI Bill to enroll at the University of Alabama where I met [my wife] June in 1959.

I asked Bob how he became interested in journalism, and he told me he was inspired by his role model and uncle, Barney Kremenko. Bob had told me that his Uncle Barney was a famous sportswriter, but I had no idea how famous until I read this entry about him at Baseball-Reference.com, one of the best resources for information about baseball.

Barney Kremenko was a sports writer with the New York Journal American; there, he covered Willie Mays’ first – and the Giants’ final – seven seasons and was, reputedly, the one responsible for Mays’ famous nickname, The Say-Hey Kid.

Upon joining the Journal some years before, Kremenko’s initial assignment had been Madison Square Garden, where he covered hockey, college hoops and track and field. In relatively short order, however, he would find his metier when chosen to succeed outgoing Giants’ beat writer, Pat Lynch.

When the Giants left New York in 1958, Kremenko led the campaign to restore National League baseball to New York. When that call was finally heeded in 1962, he was the logical choice to cover the fledgling Mets. Thus, the eulogy delivered many years later by UPI’s Carl Lundquist: “Barney was with the Giants, the Mets, and now he’s with the Angels.”

By 1966, however, the Journal was absorbed in a three-way merger. Kremenko continued with the short-lived World Journal Tribune, but when that paper went under in 1967, he went to work in a PR capacity for both the NHL’s New York Islanders and the NBA’s New Jersey Nets. At the time of his death in 1990, he was still listed as a communications consultant in the Islanders’ guide.

Throughout those final years, however, Kremenko maintained his membership in the Baseball Writers’ Association of America and continued to edit The Scorebook, the journal presented annually to those attending the BBWAA’s New York chapter dinner. As fate would have it, Kremenko’s death came exactly one day before 1990’s New York dinner.

Paul C. Barton, Barney Klemenko, and Bob Cohn
Photo courtesy of Bob Cohn

After reading this, it was no surprise to me that Bob was inspired to be a journalist. He was very close to his uncle, who often took him to sporting events as a child, and remained close to him as an adult. At the University of Alabama, Bob became the editor of the student newspaper and after graduating got a job at the Montgomery Adviser in Montgomery, Alabama, covering the civil rights movement during the 1960s. Bob wrote:

As a Jewish kid from Brooklyn, N.Y., I was improbably assigned to cover the Montgomery Police Department. I was such an underdog that two brothers who were officers “adopted” me and made certain I got all the breaks on news stories. Montgomery was the hotbed of racial violence and black protest. It was there that the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., lived and preached. It was in Montgomery that the “Freedom Riders” were beaten at the Greyhound Bus Station by the Ku Klux Klan while the police were deliberately absent from the scene. I was there reporting on the violence.

Bob Cohn and Bobby Shelton, Imperial Wizard of the KKK, Montgomery, Alabama

I would love to hear more about Bob’s experiences during that time.

Eventually, Bob became the bureau chief in Atlanta for Morris Publishing, which owned several daily newspapers in the region. His brother Paul had also settled in Atlanta after graduating from Emory University there. Paul had changed his name from Paul Barton Cohn to Paul C. Barton after the bombing of the Temple, a Reform synagogue, on October 12, 1958, by white supremacists angry with that synagogue for its support of the civil rights movement. Concerned about anti-Semitism, Paul decided to change his name to something less obviously Jewish.

Bob’s brother Paul C. Barton Courtesy of Bob Cohn

Both Bob and Paul married women they met in college. Paul met his wife Joan Belger at Emory, and they had three children, Harris, Todd, and Jennifer.

Jennifer, Todd and Harris Barton
Photo courtesy of Bob Cohn

Their son Harris Barton was a star player for the San Francisco 49ers, definitely the first cousin I’ve found who had a career as a professional athlete. Here is the entry from International Jewish Sports Hall of Fame website:

San Francisco 49ers offensive tackle Harris Barton was a Natiional Football League All-Pro selection four consecutive years: first team in 1991, 1992 and 1993, and 2nd team in 1990. He played in the 1993 Pro Bowl. Barton anchored the storied offensive line for superstar quarterbacks Joe Montana and Steve Young that provided the foundation for three 49er Super Bowl victories–1989, 1990, 1995. During his ten-year pro career, 1987-1996, Barton played 138 career NFL games, including 89 consecutive games. The 1986 University of North Carolina All-America was the 49er’s #1 draft choice in 1987. In his first season with the 49ers, Barton was named to the NFL’s All-Rookie team by the UPI, Pro Football Writers of America, and Pro Football Weekly.

Bob Cohn and Harris Barton after the NFC Championship game in Chicago Photo courtesy of Bob Cohn

Wikipedia also has a detailed entry as does the Pro-Football Reference website. This article, from the Los Angeles Times and written in 1993 after Harris learned that his father was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, reveals how important his father was to him. Titled “The Good Son : 49er Lineman Harris Barton Discovers What Really Matters Is His Father,” the article, dated December 7, 1993,and written by Bill Plaschke, describes how learning of his father’s illness affected Harris and his focus on football. Although Harris continued to play well, his priorities had shifted.

Barton also believes he is having a good year–as the right tackle, he has done well protecting left-handed Steve Young’s blind side. But suddenly, preventing sacks is not as important as making sure his father can live the rest of his life in peace and dignity.

“When it comes to my family, football is on the back burner,” Barton said. “If anything comes out of me talking about this, it is that people should appreciate their parents while they still have them. Appreciate them now.”

Paul C. Barton died on May 25, 1994, at the age of 56. Ten years later his wife Joan died from the same horrible disease, brain cancer. She was 62. They are survived today by their three children and seven grandchildren.

Bob Cohn with Joe Montana and Harris Barton
Photo courtesy of Bob Cohn

As for Bob, as noted above, he met his wife June at the University of Alabama. Bob wrote this about June: “She was a student from a small Alabama town about 17 miles from Tuscaloosa and she was (and is) gorgeous.” They married on June 5, 1960.

Bob and June’s wedding Photo courtesy of Bob Cohn

Bob and June Cohn in more recent days
Photo courtesy of Bob Cohn

They had three children. As Bob described it:

Our first child, Terri Paula, was born [in 1961] in Montgomery and delivered by Dr. Robert Lightfoot whom I had met at a train wreck. I was officially introduced to fatherhood when I held Terri in my lap and she peed on me. … Susan was born in Augusta and Greg in Atlanta. June noticed that every time we moved we had another child so she didn’t want to move again.

Terri, Greg, and Susan Cohn Photo courtesy of Bob Cohn

With three children to raise and a need to earn more money, Bob left journalism in 1970 and founded his own public relations firm, which later became a partnership named Cohn & Wolfe. It must have been difficult to leave his chosen field, especially after winning fourteen awards from the Associated Press and United Press. But Bob’s decision proved to be a wise one as he had incredible success with his new business. The firm was sold to Young & Rubicam in 1998 and now has 71 offices all over the world and still uses its original name despite the fame and reputation of its parent company.

Bob and June’s children were highly successful students and athletes, as are his grandchildren. He wrote:

Both of my daughters were captains of their tennis teams at Lakeside High School. Terri was a finalist in the state tennis tournament. My son Greg, a pitcher, went to the University of Virginia on a baseball scholarship. During his runup to that he played on teams that won so many championships… I can’t remember how many. His three children—Grace (high school volleyball), Samantha (soccer, basketball, volleyball and fast pitch softball) and Owen (football, basketball, an all-star baseball player and now playing lacrosse for the first time. Samantha’s team finished third this summer for the soccer national championships in Tulsa, OK. She and her team travel all over the country—San Fran, San Diego, Chicago, New York, Florida, etc. since she was 9 years old. Teams from Jacksonville and Orlando are in town this coming weekend to play Sam’s Tophat team, No. 1 in the state of Georgia. Samantha was tapped by the Olympic Development Program in soccer and is one of 60 girls in the South so honored, including Texas and Oklahoma.

Greg pitching for UVa

Terri and her husband David skiing

Susan cheerleading

The photos below are of Bob and June’s grandchildren engaged in various athletic endeavors.

Tragically, Bob and June’s daughter Susan died at age 46 on May 11, 2011. She is survived by her husband Robert and their two sons, who continue to live in Atlanta. Bob and June also continue to live in Atlanta as do their two surviving children, Terri and Greg, their spouses, and their five grandchildren.

Despite losing his parents at such a young age and then losing his brother prematurely and his daughter as well, Bob is a man of incredibly positive energy. Listening to him talk about his family, his marriage, his children,and his nieces and nephews and all of his grandchildren, you can only hear a man who is filled with love and gratitude for what he has and no bitterness about what he lost.

I will close this post with some photographs of the next generations in the line going backwards from Harold Cohn and Teddi Kremenko to Joseph Cohn and Rose Kornfeld to Mary Seligman and Oscar Kornfeld to Marx Seligmann and Sarah Koppel to Jacob Seligmann and Martha Mayer, my 4x great-grandparents from Gaulsheim, Germany.

Photos courtesy of Bob Cohn

Old Friends: Braided Forever

Posted on August 26, 2015 by Amy

My mother has often spoken about how sad she was when her family decided to move from Brooklyn to the Bronx when she was about twelve years old. There were many reasons she was upset. For one, she had to leave her dog Sparky behind. That broke her heart, and she still can’t talk about it without getting emotional.

But also she had to leave her best friend Beatty behind. Beatty lived in the same four-family house at 1010 Rutland Road in Brooklyn; she lived right down the hall from my mother. They had been close friends all through childhood, and although they tried to stay in touch after my mother moved, back in the 1940s that was not at all easy. Phone calls were expensive, and the trip from Brooklyn to Parkchester in the Bronx was a long one, especially for two young girls. So over time, they lost touch.

Beatty and my mother c. 1940

Not too long ago my mother asked me if I could find Beatty. She knew her first and last name from when she’d last seen her over 70 years earlier, but she had no idea where she was living or whom she might have married. I tried to find her, but with so little information I had no luck. If Beatty had married, it was after the last year of the publicly available NYC marriage index (1937). The only information I could find related to her siblings, who had passed away.

So you can imagine how excited I was to receive a message on the blog last week from Beatty herself. She was looking for my mother after seeing her pictures and childhood name on the blog. I contacted Beatty, and I called my mother. And I gave them each other’s contact information, and now they are reconnected after over 70 years. I get the chills (and a warm feeling) whenever I think about it.

One of the stories my mother shared with me was about Passover at Beatty’s house. Her father led the seder in a very serious way, and as many of us know, a traditional seder can get quite long and quite boring, especially for young children. To keep themselves from misbehaving and talking, my mother and Beatty would braid the fringes on the beautiful tablecloth that adorned the seder table. When my mother shared this memory with Beatty, she said that she also had shared that story with her children.

The tablecloth still exists, and even more remarkable, the braids made by my mother and her best friend Beatty are still there as well. Here is the photograph to prove it.

Beatty’s tablecloth

My mother was once my Girl Scout troop leader, and one of the songs we sang had the lyrics, “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, and the other gold.” My mother and Beatty certainly know the truth of that message.

Introducing Chloe and Zoe—New Leaves on the Pet Family Tree

Posted on August 21, 2015 by Amy

As many of you know, we lost two pets in the last twelve months. First, we unexpectedly lost our sweet cat Luna, who died without warning last September. Then in June we had to put down our fifteen year old dog Cassie. I knew we would eventually get a new cat, but I really wasn’t ready until after we lost Cassie as well. So for my birthday, all I really wanted was a kitten. Um, I mean kittens.

We were very lucky to find an amazing animal shelter in Provincetown called CASAS. It’s a no-kill shelter where the cats have free run of a house, no cages. It’s run by volunteers and supported by donations. It’s the only shelter I’ve been to where I did not leave in tears, worrying about all the cats and dogs left behind.

We first saw our new kittens the first week in August and decided we would adopt one. Then a few days later, we decided we should get two. We had to wait until today for them to be ready to go home. These poor kittens were orphaned at four weeks old when their mother was killed by a car and were bottle-fed by the shelter volunteers. They are as sweet as they are pretty.

So without further ado…

Here is Chloe.

Here is Zoe.

Here they are on my lap.

And here’s big brother Smokey checking them out while they slept.

And here are a few more as they check out their new surroundings.

After they both tried to eat the crystal-type kitty litter, we had to use newspaper until we could get some traditional litter.

We are so excited to have our new babies join our family!

Four Generations 2015

Posted on August 3, 2015 by Amy

I’ve spent much time these last several years absorbed in past generations of my family, but frankly nothing is as rewarding as spending time with the four present generations of my family—from my parents to my grandsons. Having all four generations together for a week—eating, playing, laughing, and even arguing with each other—was wonderful. Here are a few photographs, almost all courtesy of my son-in-law Brian and my cousin Jody.

Four generations

Now I am energized to dive back once again into the past so that I can preserve the family’s history for the next four generations.

Stopping the Tide

Posted on July 24, 2015 by Amy

I will be taking a break from the blog for the next week or so as I will be spending time with my family. I have a number of projects on hold—more from the Seligmann handwritten family tree, more from my newly found cousin Lotte, more about the Schoenfelds. But right now other members of my family—especially my two grandsons—will be the focus of my attention.

For the past several days we have been taking care of our older grandson; we brought him to the beach where he swam and walked through the water until I was exhausted (he wasn’t), dug holes, and did other beach activities. But the activity that charmed me the most was when he tried to stop the tide from advancing. Oh, to be five and to think that you can stop the tides— and time—-from advancing.

Stopping the tide

Gifts from My Cousin Steve

Posted on July 19, 2015 by Amy

How very lucky I have been in finding my Seligman cousins. Starting with my cousin Pete from Santa Fe, then my cousin Wolfgang in Germany, then my cousin Suzanne from Scranton, and now two more cousins: Lotte, a descendant of Hieronymous Seligmann, brother of my great-great-grandfather Bernard, and Steve, a descendant of Marx Seligman, brother of my three-times-great-grandfather Moritz. I will talk about Lotte in subsequent posts, but for now I will continue the story of Marx Seligman and his descendants.

Steve is a grandson of Sigmund Seligman, the oldest child of Marx and Sarah Seligman, and as I mentioned last time, he has generously shared with me many photographs of his family as well as personal anecdotes about them. All the photographs in this post are courtesy of Steve. I am filled with gratitude to him for bringing to life his father Leo, his aunt Mary, and his uncles Max and Albert.

In my earlier post about Marx and his descendants, I wrote that “Sigmund and Charlotte had five children between 1883 and 1896: Mary (1883), Max (1884), Leo (1891), Theresa (1894), and Albert (1896). Sigmund was employed in the insurance industry. In 1900, they were living at 304 East 117th Street.” As posted last time, here is a family photograph of Sigmund and Charlotte and their children from about that time, estimated to be taken in 1901.

Sigmund Seligman and family about 1901. Standing rear: Mary, Max. Sitting middle row: Sigmund, Albert, Leo, and Charlotte. In front: Theresa
Photo courtesy of Steve Seligman

Tragedy struck this happy family on September 27, 1902, when eight year old Theresa, the little girl seated in front, died from tubercular meningitis.

Theresa Seligman death certificate

In 1905, the remaining children were all still living with their parents at 89 East 121^st Street; Sigmund was a supervisor in an insurance company, Max was working as a bookkeeper, and the other boys were in school. Mary was home.

As noted last time, Mary married Joseph Brandenburg (later Brandt) in 1907. By 1910, her parents and brothers had moved to 275 East 123^rd Street. Sigmund was still working as a supervisor in the insurance company, now identified as Metropolitan Life. Both Max and Leo were working as clerks for American Pencil Company, and Albert was only fourteen and presumably in school.

In 1915, the family had relocated again to 60 West 129^th Street; Sigmund was still in the insurance business. The census does not report what businesses they were working in, but Max was working as an assistant manager, Leo as a salesman, and Albert as a stock clerk.

Sigmund Seligman and family 1915 NY census New York State Archives; Albany, New York; State Population Census Schedules, 1915; Election District: 09; Assembly District: 21; City: New York; County: New York; Page: 35

Sigmund and Charlotte’s first grandchild, Jerrold Thurston Brandt, son of Joseph and Mary (Seligman) Brandt, was born on June 15, 1913.

On October 12, 1915, Max married Pauline Hirsch. Pauline’s father Samuel was a German immigrant working as a watchman; her mother had died in 1901. Pauline had been working as a bookkeeper for a clothing company in 1910. Pauline and Max had a daughter Theresa born August 15, 1916, presumably named for Max’s little sister Theresa, who had died in 1902.

Both Leo and Albert served in World War I. Leo served stateside near Jacksonville, Florida; Albert was sent overseas where he was gassed on the battlefields of France. According to his nephew Steve, Albert never fully regained his health, suffering from heart problems and pneumonia all his life.

Leo Seligman World War I courtesy of Steve Seligman

Albert Seligman World War I photo courtesy of Steve Seligman

By 1920 Sigmund had retired. He and Charlotte were still living with two of their sons, Leo and Albert, as well as a boarder. Home from the war, Leo was a salesman for a cloak company, and Albert was a merchant in ladies’ clothing.

On April 18, 1920, Leo married Jeanette Freundlich, the daughter of Morris and Martha Freundlich. Morris was an immigrant from the Austria-Hungary Empire, and according to his passport application, he was born in Krakow. Morris was a furrier and had his own business. According to the 1920 census, Jeanette and her brothers Julian and Edwin were all helping their father in his business. Jeanette and Leo had three children in the 1920s, Joan, my newly-found cousin Steven, and Edward.

Leo Seligman and his family

Joan Seligman

Edward, Joan and Steven Seligman

Edward and Steven Seligman about 1938

Joan Seligman, age 13

In 1920 Max was working as the assistant manager in the pencil company, and he and his family were living at 424 East 51^st Street.

Albert Seligman married Bella Heftler on November 20, 1921. Bella was the youngest of ten children of Max and Sarah Heftler, who were Hungarian immigrants. Max Heflter was supporting that large family as a tailor, with his two oldest daughters working in a shirt factory in 1900. By 1920, Max had died, and Bella was working as a bookkeeper, still living with her mother and five of her siblings. In 1923, Bella and Albert Seligman had a son Maxwell, named presumably for Bella’s father.

Albert Seligman courtesy of Steve Seligman

Bella Heftler Seligman courtesy of Steve Seligman

Maxwell Seligman courtesy of Steve Seligman

Sigmund Seligman died on June 15, 1924. He was 74 years old. His wife Charlotte survived him by ten years, dying on July 18, 1934. She was 75 years old.

Sigmund Seligman and Charlotte Koppel Seligman

As for their children, in 1930 Max was working as the manager of a movie theater and living with his family on West 97^th Street. Leo was living with his family on Cathedral Parkway (110^th Street) and working in coat manufacturing. Albert and his family were living on Jesup Avenue in the Bronx, and Albert was a salesman in the film industry. Mary and Joe Brandt were living with their son Jerrold at 23 West 73^rd Street, and Joe was one of the owners of what was now called Columbia Pictures.

By 1940, all three brothers were somehow connected to the film industry. Joe Brandt had left Columbia Pictures in 1932 and had died in 1939, but he somehow must have connected his three brothers-in-law to the movie industry. According to the 1940 census, Max Seligman was working as a purchasing agent for Columbia Pictures. His draft registration for World War II says that Columbia Pictures was his employer. Leo reported that he had his own office as a film distributor on the 1940 census, and on his World War II draft registration he said his employer was Max Seligman. According to Steve, his father distributed foreign films as well as children’s cartoons for a local movie theater. As for Albert, the 1940 census reports his occupation as a movie theater manager, but on his World War II draft registration he listed his employer as Columbia Pictures. Steve said that Albert was in the publicity department. Thus, by 1942 all three brothers appear to have been working in the film business.

Max (front left), Leo (rear on right), and Mary (front right) and two friends playing cards
Courtesy of Steve Seligman

Mary had also moved back from Hollywood to New York at some point after Joe died, and her nephew Steve remembers that she would often take him and his siblings to the movies. Steve wrote, “Aunt Mary would march up to the box office and demand to see the manager. When he came out she would come up with the same pitch. ‘My husband was President and co-founder of Columbia Pictures and this child and I would like to see this picture.’ I never remember being turned away.”

Mary Seligman Brandt
Photo courtesy of Steve Seligman

About his Uncle Max, Steve wrote, “Uncle Max had a habit of saying almost everything twice. When I would go and visit him and my Aunt Pauline, Uncle Max would invariably open the door and say, ‘Hello my boy, hello my boy, how are you, how are you.’ Even during conversations it would happen. I don’t know whether he thought we were hard of hearing or if he just wanted to emphasize what he said. Not everything was repeated, of course, but enough times for my brother Eddie and my cousin Maxwell to refer to him as Uncle Max, Uncle Max.”

Steve also wrote this loving tribute to his father, Leo Seligman, the middle brother:

One thing you could say about my father was that he was a lousy ballplayer. He couldn’t throw, he couldn’t catch, he didn’t even follow the baseball teams. When my brother Eddie and I would be in our room listening to a replay of the day’s games, my father would be in the living room reading the paper and surely not the sports page. But in other ways he managed to spend quality time with us. In the summer almost every Sunday we would go up to the roof of our apartment building with bridge chairs and hang out for a couple of hours. He would have contests between Eddie and me testing our spelling, math and memory skills. Eddie would always win the math contest but I managed to hold my own in the other games. I think whoever won would get a nickel, nothing to get crazy over but enough to tide us over in the candy store. In my early teens on Sundays in the spring he and I would rent bikes and go bike riding in Central Park. It’s amazing but I still remember the store. The owners name was Aug, it was on 81st St. and he charged a quarter an hour. That was fun. What my father lacked in ball playing he made up on a bike. One other thing; he never spanked us. When I misbehaved he would “flick” my ear, hard. It’s hard to describe what “flicking” an ear is but if you put your forefinger against your thumb and release it strongly, that’s flicking. It really didn’t hurt much but it didn’t matter, we knew we were being punished.

Leo Seligman

Leo and Jeanette (Freundlich) Seligman

All three brothers died within five years of each other. Albert, the youngest, died first on October 6, 1948. He was only 52 years old and had been plagued with poor health since his service during World War I. Leo died on January 1, 1952; he was just sixty years old. Max, the oldest of the three, died the following year on March 9, 1953; he was 68.

Mary Seligman Brandt, the oldest of the children of Sigmund and Charlotte Koppel Seligman, lived the longest. She died in February, 1977, at the age of 94.

Thank you once again to my cousin Steve Seligman for sharing his photographs and his stories with me. I am so pleased that we have found each other. These new contacts and the pleasure they bring me continue to be the most meaningful benefits I get from doing genealogy and writing this blog. Here are some additional photographs of Steve’s family:

Steve’s brother Eddie Seligman

Steve’s wife Arline

Joan Seligman’s husband Bennett Pollard

Steve and Arline Seligman

Nancy (nee Seligman) and Barry Buzzuro

Steve and Arline Seligman and daughter Nancy

Jane Brenwasser Jacobs, great-granddaughter of Sigmund Seligman

Mystery Photo: One More Try

Posted on July 3, 2015 by Amy

Although my stats show a lot of visitors, I’ve gotten very little feedback on my last two posts (and I am very grateful for the feedback I did receive), so perhaps I am just asking questions that can’t be answered—or that need to be answered by an expert. But here is one last attempt to figure out who these people are in this photograph. Please let me know what you think. On the advice of my cousin Pete, I consulted a few web sites providing fashion information for the purpose of dating photographs, and it seems very likely that this photograph was taken sometime between 1890 and 1905. I can’t narrow it down much more than that based on the clothing.

Who are these people? When was this taken?

Today I am focused primarily on the man on the right, who is labeled Onkel Adolf.

I have only found two Adolfs in the extended Seligmann family. One is Adolf Arnfeld, Bettina Seligmann‘s husband, but this is Bettina, and she is not in the group photo, so that makes no sense.

Bettina Arnfeld nee Seligmann

The second Adolf was Adolf Seligman, my three-times-great-uncle who immigrated to Santa Fe and settled there. He did make a trip to Germany in 1900, so this photo might have been taken then. Adolf was born in 1843, so if the photo was taken in 1900, he would have been 57. Certainly the man in the photograph looks about that age.

Date: Saturday, November 10, 1900 Paper: New Mexican (Santa Fe, NM) Volume: 37 Issue: 226 Page: 4

Fortunately, Adolf’s granddaughter Davita recently contacted me after finding the blog, and she sent me this photograph of her grandfather on a trip to Egypt. Adolf died in 1920 when he was 77, and I would guess he was between 65 and 70 when this photograph was taken. Is this the same man as Onkel Adolf in the group photo above?

To me there is similarity in the eyes, mouth and ears, but the older man has a fuller face (just as the older “Babetta” has a fuller face than the younger one). What do you think?

The other man in the group photograph is labeled Onkel Jakob. Since I can’t find a Jakob Seligmann who would fit into this photograph, I am wondering whether it could be James Seligman, the brother who immigrated to England and whose estate was the reason for all those Westminster Bank family trees. Perhaps James was born Jacob and Anglicized his name when he immigrated? Since I have no birth record for James, I do not know.

(UPDATE: I checked with some people from the German Genealogy Group, and several people confirmed that James was not a name used for boys in Germany in the 19th century; the German equivalent was Jakob. James was an English name. Thus, I am now persuaded that this was in fact James/Jakob Seligmann.)

If the two men are Babetta’s sons Adolf and James, it would make sense that the two women are either their wives or their sisters. Adolf married Lucille Gorman in 1902 when she was nineteen and he was sixty. The woman standing next to Adolf does not look that young nor is she labeled with any name that looks like Lucille or Lucy. James Seligman’s wife’s name was Henrietta, and the name above the woman next to him does not look at all like Henrietta.

So could they be sisters of Adolf and James? Could the two women be two daughters of Moritz and Babetta whom I just had not yet found? After all, I had no birth record for James, but only learned of him because of the settlement of his estate. Perhaps there were other children born to Moritz and Babetta. There is a six year gap between Pauline’s birth in 1847 and James in 1853, time enough for two more daughters.

One other reason I think this is possible is that Davita told me that her grandfather Adolf’s favorite sister was Minnie, depicted with him in the photograph in Egypt.

But I have no record of a sister named Minnie. Both Bernard and Adolf named a daughter Minnie, so this does seem to suggest there was a Minnie in the family. But….neither of the women in the group photo is labeled Minnie.

Here is a closeup of Minnie from the Egypt photo and a closeup of the woman on the left in the group photo.

Same person? The nose and mouth are similar, as is the hair. Again, the woman in the Egypt photo has a fuller face, and it’s hard to compare the eyes since she is squinting into the sun, but it could be the same person, couldn’t it?

But that name above her head doesn’t look like Minnie to me.

So who are these people? I am as confused now as I was when I started. Please let me know what you think!

Mystery Photos II: Oppenheimers

Posted on July 1, 2015 by Amy

I learned something important from my first Mystery Photo post. Keep it simple. Too many photos makes it too confusing for people (and for me). Although a lot of people read the post, almost no one commented. I did go to Facebook and got some feedback about whether or not these two photos are both Babetta Schoenfeld Seligmann. Most people said yes, some said no.

Courtesy of the Family of Fred and Ilse Michel

For my second post involving the mystery photos from the Michel album, I want to start with some photographs that are clearly labeled as members of the Oppenheimer family and that present no mystery. The Oppenheimers were the children of Pauline Seligmann, sister of my great- great-grandfather Bernard. She and her husband Maier Oppenheimer had five children: Joseph, Martha, Anna, Ella, and Moritz, according to the Westminster Bank‘s family tree for Pauline.

Pauline Seligmann Oppenheimer Family Tree by Westminster Bank

The Michel album included clearly marked photographs of the two sons, Joseph and Moritz, and one of the daughters, Ella.

Joseph Oppenheimer

Joseph Oppenheimer from Butzbach, son of Tante Pauline

Joseph was born in 1875 and died at Dachau Concentration Camp in October, 1940.

Moritz Oppenheimer

I wrote about Moritz Oppenheimer in detail here. He was the wealthy industrialist who owned the horse breeding farm and who died in May 1941, under suspicious circumstances after being “questioned” by the Gestapo. Moritz was born in 1879.

How old do Joseph and Moritz appear to be in these photos? I am guessing between 25 and 35, meaning the photographs were taken between 1900-1910. Does that seem right?

The third clearly labeled Oppenheimer photograph is this one:

To Wolfgang and me, this seemed to say Milla Oppenheimer. But neither Joseph nor Moritz Oppenheimer married a woman named Milla and there was no sister named Milla. I posted the photograph on Facebook for some feedback, and one member of Tracing the Tribe pointed out that the M could really be an E, except for the dot over what seems to be an I. Then another member pointed that the “dot” was really part of the framing around the photograph, not part of the name written on the side. So I believe that in fact this is Ella Oppenheimer.

According to the family tree for Pauline Seligmann Oppenheimer prepared by the Westminster Bank, Ella never married or had children and died during the Holocaust, although I cannot find her in the Yad Vashem database. I did find in the JewishGen database entitled “German Towns Project” an entry for Ella Oppenheimer from Butzbach, who had been born there June 21, 1878 and had moved to Frankfort in 1939, (That database was created by asking officials in numerous Jewish towns to list their former Jewish residents and their fate, if known.) But that database had no information about how or where she died.

So these three photographs are pretty clear to me. The next possible photograph of one of the five Oppenheimer children is the woman at the center of the photograph I posted last time.

Who are these people?

Here is a closeup of her face.

It certainly looks like it says Anna Oppenheimer over her head, doesn’t it?

Anna, another sister of Joseph, Moritz, and Ella, was born in 1877, and she died in 1908. In my earlier post, I assumed that the older woman in this photo was Babetta Seligmann, meaning the photo would have been taken in about 1890 or so since Babetta was born in 1810. But Anna certainly does not look thirteen in this photograph. How old does she look?

If I guess that she is 30, that would mean the photo was taken in 1907. That would make Babetta almost a hundred years old. Or maybe it’s not Babetta. Maybe the older woman is Pauline Seligmann Oppenheimer, who was also born in Gau Algesheim. Paulina was born in 1847, so she would have been sixty in 1907. That woman could be sixty (not that sixty-year old women look like that today). But then why is she labeled Grandmother? Pauline was not Franziszka Seligmann’s grandmother; she was her aunt. In the photo of Joseph Oppenheimer, she is referred to as Tante Pauline.

Franziska’s grandmother from Gau-Algesheim was Babetta. Fred Michel’s maternal grandmother was Rosa Bergmann Seligmann; she did live in Gau-Algesheim. She was born in 1853 and died in Gau-Algesheim in 1899. But that woman does not look 45, does she? I still think the elderly woman is Babetta.

But then how could that be Anna Oppenheimer? Am I misreading the name above her head?

So my only question for today: could that be Anna Oppenheimer?

That’s it for this post. I will return to the other people in this photo in a later post once I have some feedback. I am trying to narrow down the date so I can piece together the other parts of this puzzle.

Mystery Photos: Part I

Posted on June 29, 2015 by Amy

In Fred Michel’s album there are a number of photographs that are either unlabeled or labeled with names that we (Wolfgang, Suzanne, and I) cannot match to a person. I am hoping to get some input from all of you to help us in this endeavor. Please leave your thoughts in the comments so others can respond.

First, this photo of two women appears to be labeled either Anna or Minna (on the left) and Franziska on the right. I cropped and enlarged the face of Franziska. First: Is it Anna or Minna? Anna makes more sense since there is no Minna in the family as far as I can tell.

And is the woman on the right the same woman as the woman in the two photographs below it? That woman is Franziska Seligmann Michel, Fred Michel’s mother.

Fred Michel and Franziska Seligmann Michel
Courtesy of the Family of Fred and Ilse Michel

Franziska Seligmann Michel

If it is Anna and Franziska, then the Anna could be Franziska’s sister Anna, who married Hugo Goldmann, and whose family including their three children were all killed in the Holocaust. Perhaps the little girl in the photo is their oldest child Grete, who was born in 1913.

Next mystery set. The first photograph is of Emil Ochs and his wife Bettina Erlanger Ochs, discussed in my last post; I then cropped just to Bettina’s face. Is the woman in the photo below, which is unlabeled, the same woman?

Emil Ochs and wife, daughter of Mathilde Erlanger geb Seligmann

Bettina Erlanger Ochs

Unknown—is it Bettina Erlanger Ochs?

The men do not appear to be the same man, do they? If it’s not the same woman, there certainly is a strong family resemblance, but Bettina did not have a sister, as far as I’ve found.

Finally (for now), there are these two photographs. The first is definitely Bettina Seligmann Arnfeld, the daughter of Hieronymous Seligmann:

Bettina Arnfeld nee Seligmann

The same dog appears to be in this photograph. But is it?

Uncle Adolf and Grandmother Gau Algesheim

Who are these people?

According to Wolfgang, the label on the bottom right says Grandmother Gau Algesheim, so perhaps this is Babetta Schoenfeld Seligmann. Here is Babetta in an earlier photograph:

Courtesy of the Family of Fred and Ilse Michel

Could these both be the same person?

I think they could both be the same person. Do you? I don’t know when Babetta died, but she was born in 1810. Even if she is 80 years old in the later photograph, the photograph would have been taken by 1890.

If so, who are all those other people? The man above Babetta is labeled Uncle Adolf, I think. The only Adolf I’ve found in the family is Adolf Arnfeld, the husband of Bettina. That might have made sense, given the dog appearing in both the family picture and the portrait of Bettina. But Bettina was born in 1875, and she didn’t even marry Adolf until 1900. And the woman next to Adolf does not look like Bettina. And the name over her head appears to be Anna Oppenheimer.

And I don’t think the woman on the left is Bettina either. Here’s a close up of that woman.

Is this Bettina Arnfeld?

Finally, the names in the left hand margin. The man appears to be labeled Uncle Jakob, and I can’t read at all the name for the woman sitting below him—-Tante (aunt) something? Ends with an I? Not a clue. I can’t find an Uncle Jacob or anyone to match the Aunt he is paired with. More on this photo in the next post.

As for the dog, if Bettina Arnfeld was a young woman when holding that dog, what year would this be? Bettina was born in 1875, so if she is twenty in that photo, this could be around the same time as the large group photo with what appears to be the same dog. I am confused!

So…please do share your thoughts with me. It often takes a fresh set of eyes to see what I may be missing.

Cassie July 2000-June 2015

Posted on June 23, 2015 by Amy

Cassie

We said goodbye to our wonderful dog Cassie this week. It was a terribly hard and upsetting decision, but she was failing, and her quality of life had deteriorated to the point where we knew we had to make the right decision for her. We are at peace. She lived a good and long life for a dog. But we are also incredibly sad.

Cassie was a pound puppy. We got her at the Thomas J. O’Connor animal shelter in Springfield, Massachusetts, in the summer of 2001. The police had picked her up after finding her tied to a tree in a trailer park in Chicopee, and no one would claim her as theirs. She had been in the pound for only a few days when I saw her on Petfinders.com and suggested we go take a look.

She was skinny, dirty, and overly excited. Harvey and Maddy were skeptical, but I was in love, and I knew right away that she was sweet and gentle and loving. And I was right. Cassie never once growled at a person or a cat, and she only growled at dogs if they invaded her space, which wasn’t very often. She never, ever hurt anyone. She loved everyone. When we told family and close friends that she was gone this week, everyone described her as loving and sweet and gentle.

August 2001

Our vet estimated that she was about a year old when we adopted her at the end of July, 2001, so we assigned her a birth date of July 31, 2000. She took almost no time to adapt to living with us. She was clean and playful and smart. She could run like the most graceful of animals. The first time we took her to the beach, she ran all the way up a high dune. We raced after her, fearful we’d never see her again, but there she was waiting for us at the top. It took a long time before she was ever let off the leash again.

Cassie was with us during that dreadful fall of 2001 in the aftermath of 9/11. She was such a positive distraction. When my family, all shaken still by the events of that September, gathered for Thanksgiving, it was Cassie who made us laugh. She was still new and puppy-like, and she’d run from one member of the family to another, excited and happy.

My dog and me November 2001

November 2001

Once she settled in, she became calm and unflappable. No matter where we took her—to the Cape, to a new house, to a temporary apartment before our new house was ready, to our cottage—she adapted almost instantly. We even once dragged her all the way to Geneva, New York, so she could visit Maddy at college. She was great in the car, great with children, and great with us. I often felt badly that she was growing up in a home with no small children since she would get so excited any time she saw a young child. And children loved her. She would kiss them, and they would hug her.

So gentle with Nate when he was a five month old

And with Nate when he was three

About the only thing she didn’t like were elevators. Can’t say that I blame her. She liked going to the groomer, she liked going to the vet. She liked strangers, she liked anyone. She didn’t bark at people at the door or those who entered our home. She never jumped on people or pushed them around, despite the collie herding instinct. She was definitely not a watchdog. She was a love dog.

And our cats Smokey and Luna adored her. From when they were little kittens, they would curl up on her, and to the very end of her long life, Smokey still treated her like his mother, kneading his (clawless) front paws into her belly and nuzzling his nose into her fur. The only thing that seemed to light up Cassie’s eyes as she declined was Smokey. She would even chase after him a bit to play.

Look how gently she handled Smokey as a kitten

Cassie was an incredible companion—on long walks in the neighborhood or the woods or the beach (even though she didn’t love the beach much) and just being with us in our home. She was always right there with us wherever we went. I can’t tell you how much we will miss her and how much we agonized over her decline and our final decision to give her peace. But she had been there for us, and we had to be there for her.

So we are at peace. She is no longer distressed and confused, and we can look back with deep love and gratitude for the fourteen years we had her with us. Goodbye, Cassie. You will always be our dog, and we will always keep you in our hearts.

Brotmanblog: A Family Journey

Adventures in Genealogy

Category Archives: Photos

My Cohn Cousins: Journalism, Sports, and, Most Importantly, Family and Love

Old Friends: Braided Forever

Introducing Chloe and Zoe—New Leaves on the Pet Family Tree

Four Generations 2015

Stopping the Tide

Gifts from My Cousin Steve

Mystery Photo: One More Try

Mystery Photos II: Oppenheimers

Mystery Photos: Part I

Cassie July 2000-June 2015

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