Isadore Goldsmith: A Life of Strife and Sadness Revealed in the Newspaper, Part II

Posted on August 21, 2018 by Amy

As I wrote in my last post, Isadore Goldsmith seemed to begin having legal and medical problems in January, 1893, after allegedly being assaulted in Philadelphia and then trephined in the hospital as part of the treatment for his injuries. He then was arrested for drunkenness but released when the court concluded he was epileptic, not drunk. But his troubles continued, as detailed in my last post: suicide attempts, some bizarre behavior, and more encounters with the police.

Then in 1896, Isadore married the same woman twice. On October 17, 1896, Isadore married Mary Wheeler the first time in Camden, New Jersey. Keep that date in mind as you read this article from the November 8, 1896, Philadelphia Times (p. 2):

“Declares He Is Sane,” The Philadelphia Times, November 8, 1896, p. 1.

Apparently Isadore had been committed to the Norristown Asylum on June 19, 1895, and had escaped on October 16, 1896, the day before he married Mary in Camden. (Later articles say he escaped on October 13, but in any event, he and Mary married within days of his escape.)

On November 17, 1896, the court in Washington, DC, determined that Isadore was not insane:

“Goldsmith Adjudged Sane,” The Philadelphia Times, November 18, 1896, p. 7

And the very next day, November 18, 1896, Isadore married Mary Wheeler for the second time, this time in DC. The Philadelphia Inquirer found this second wedding sufficiently newsworthy that they wrote about it on the front page on November 20, 1896:

“Was Married Twice,” The Philadelphia Inquirer, November 20, 1896, p. 1

The somewhat unusual spectacle of a man marrying the same woman twice was witnessed in this city today [Washington, DC]. The two-time bridegroom in the case is Isadore Goldsmith, a young Philadelphian. His story is a romantic one. Goldsmith was an inmate at the Norristown Insane Asylum, from which institution he escaped on October 13. He went quietly to Camden, where he was married to Mary B. Wheeler on the day after his escape. The couple came to this city, where he was arrested as [?].

Goldsmith appealed to the courts for a writ of habeas corpus, claiming that he was perfectly sane and had been unjustly incarcerated. The case came up before Judge Hagner on Tuesday. Goldsmith was the most important witness in his own behalf. He was entirely rational and made a good impression. Some hard questions were put to him, but his answers revealed a clear memory and connected reasoning.

… [A description of his testimony about his January 1893 assault.]

While at a hospital in Philadelphia last summer he was informed by Dr. Hughes, the physician, that a relative wanted him sent to the Norristown Insane Asylum. He was in the Philadelphia Hospital because he had feared one of his attacks was coming on; but he left when he heard of this intention. He was afterwards arrested and incarcerated at Norristown until his escape.

[After medical testimony, the judge determined that Goldsmith was sane and released him.]

To-day Mr. Goldsmith and his wife were re-married by a local clergyman. This second marriage ceremony was performed because Mr. Goldsmith feared that it might be claimed that his first marriage took place while he was legally an insane person.

The newspaper considered his story to be “a romantic one.” But there is no explanation of how he met Mary or anything about her or their relationship. And who was the relative who had had Isadore committed the prior June?

In the 1898 Philadelphia directory there is a listing for Isidore Goldsmith, a repairer. I think this might be my Isadore because on Mary’s death certificate, her occupation is listed as china repairer, so perhaps they were working together.

But in 1899, Isadore made the newspaper again. This time he was accused along with three other men of committing arson, according to this article in the June 25, 1899 Philadelphia Times (p. 16):

“Held in Bail for Arson,” The Philadelphia Times, June 25, 1899, p. 16

The paper described him this way:

It is said that Goldsmith bears a shady reputation with the police; that he attempted to commit suicide last December, and that he has been a successful worker of the epileptic fit dodge to secure free admission to hospitals both here and in Washington.

Isadore made at least one more attempt to end his life in October, 1906; again he made the front page of The Philadelphia Inquirer:

“Rushed Pony into Sea to Save Man,” The Philadelphia Inquirer, October 9, 1906, p. 1

A pony ridden by James Irwin this afternoon was driven into the surf in pursuit of Isadore Goldsmith, a middle-aged Philadelphian, who was fully clothed and apparently bent on drowning himself. Hundreds on the boardwalk and Young’s Pier where the man had waded into the breakers, wild with excitement, shouted to “save him,” but no one cared to face the heavy sea, and the life guards had retired from duty today.

The pony balked, but spurs urged him into the sea. Reaching Goldsmith, Irwin caught him by the coat collar and was dragging the man ashore, when Goldsmith fought to free himself. During the battle between the two, Irwin, a slim young man, was nearly dragged from the saddle, but he held grimly to Goldsmith with one hand and to the pommel in the saddle with the other. Both were swept time and again by the heavy seas.

Those watching the battle feared that both would be drowned until the pony had backed them into comparatively shallow water, when several men went to the rescue of Irwin and the desperate man he had pulled from certain death. Goldsmith was sent to the police station, and he was found to be in no condition to give an explanation of his conduct.

Cheers greeted Irwin when he brought Goldsmith to the beach, and some rushed to him to shake his hand, hailing him as a hero.

This attempt I find particularly troubling as it endangered another person as well as an innocent animal.

Six months after this episode, Isadore’s wife Mary died on April 19, 1907, from a stroke, and then six months after that, Isadore finally found the peace he must have been seeking—he died on October 11, 1907, from a cerebral hemorrhage and acute alcoholism.

Isidore Goldsmith Death Certificate, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:S3HY-68DJ-WR?cc=1320976&wc=9FRT-N38%3A1073183102 : 16 May 2014), 004008905 > image 483 of 536; Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.

The last news item I found for him was this brief death notice in the Philadelphia Inquirer. I guess his death did not merit the front page despite the fact that the struggles he had endured were often considered front page news.

The Philadelphia Inquirer, October 12, 1907, p. 9.

Was the cerebral hemorrhage related to his injuries from 1893? Was he really an alcoholic or was he an epileptic or both? His several attempts at suicide and his ongoing hospitalizations suggest a man with severe mental health issues.

Isadore was clearly a man with many problems—whether those problems started with the alleged assault in January 1893 or whether they started years before when he was a young man, I don’t know. In the end, it doesn’t really matter. All we can say is that this was a man who had a very troubled life. And his troubles somehow managed again and again to be considered front page news in Philadelphia.

Isadore Goldsmith: A Life of Strife and Sadness Revealed in the Newspaper

Posted on August 17, 2018 by Amy

As noted in earlier posts, there were some odd things that I found in my initial research of my cousin Isadore (sometimes Isidore) Goldsmith, the sixth child and third son of Levi and Henrietta Goldsmith. For one thing, in 1896 he married the same woman, Mary Wheeler, twice, first in New Jersey and then a month later in Washington, DC. He never seemed to have a job. And then in 1907, he died just six months after his wife Mary died. She died from a stroke on April 17, 1907, when she was 54; Isadore died on October 11, 1907, from a cerebral hemorrhage. He was only 43. His death certificate revealed that he had died in a sanitarium to which he had been admitted the day before; it also noted that he was afflicted with acute alcoholism.

I decided to do a newspaper search to see if I could learn more about Isadore. Unfortunately, that newspaper search and the searches to which those newspaper articles then led tell the story of a man whose life must have been very painful and sad. But first, some background on Isadore’s earlier life and what I found before I started the newspaper search.

Isadore Goldsmith was born on May 24, 1864, in Philadelphia.¹ On the 1870 and 1880 census records, he was living with his parents and siblings; on these records, I found nothing unusual. ² Since there is no surviving record of the 1890 census, I tried searching for Isadore in Philadelphia directories to cover the years between 1880 and 1900. He was not listed in the Philadelphia directories until the 1886 directory when he was 22 years old. He was then living at the same address as his father Levi, 1311 North Broad Street, but is not listed with an occupation. His older brother George is listed also, living at the same address and working as a druggist.³

Levi died at the end of 1886. In the 1887 directory, George and Isadore are both listed again, still living at 1311 North Broad, and Isadore, who now would be 23, is still listed without an occupation, whereas George is once again working as a druggist. I thought this was a little strange—why didn’t Isadore have a job? But I thought perhaps he was in school and thought nothing more of it. In 1889 Isadore is not listed at all in the Philadelphia directory, but George is as well as their younger brother Sylvester. They were now living at 1709 North 15^th Street where their mother is listed as well. George was a druggist, and Sylvester was a clerk.⁴ But where was Isadore? He does not appear in any Philadelphia directory after 1887 until 1898, nor does he appear in any other directory included in the Ancestry database.

I found Isadore on the 1900 census, as I reported here. He was now married to Mary Wheeler, the woman he married twice, first on October 17, 1896 in Camden, New Jersey, and then on November 18 in Washington, DC. And as noted in my earlier post, on the 1900 census, Isadore and Mary were living as boarders in Philadelphia, and for his occupation, Isadore wrote that he was living on his income. There is an Isidor Goldsmith listed in the 1905 Philadelphia directory working as a grocer, and that could be Isadore—which would make the first time he is listed anywhere with an occupation. ⁵ The last record I had for Isadore was his death certificate, as noted above.

That was all I knew about Isadore’s life until I typed his name into the newspapers.com and genealogybank.com websites and turned up a long list of articles detailing Isadore’s struggles.

The earliest news item I found relating to Isadore was a legal notice of divorce:

The Philadelphia Inquirer, May 24, 1891, p. 1.

I had not found any marriage record for Isadore prior to his two weddings to Mary in 1896, but I noticed that in this legal notice he is listed with an alias—Isadore Garrison. I went back to search for listings or records under that name, and I found a record for the marriage of Isedore Garrison to Gean Morris on September 26, 1887, in Camden, New Jersey.⁶ Obviously, this marriage did not last very long since Isadore and Jean were divorced by May 24, 1891.

There were no other articles about Isadore until September 2, 1893, when the Philadelphia Inquirer published this article on its front page:

“Goldsmith Had Swallowed Laudanum, But It Was Quickly Removed,” The Philadelphia Inquirer, September 2, 1893, page 1.

Isadore Goldsmith, 26 years old, who gave the address of 1313 Cass street, tried to end his life by a dose of laudanum early yesterday morning at one of the side entrances to the Drexel Institute. Goldsmith was found weak and in a critical condition by Policeman Gill, of the Twenty-first district, who tried to rouse him up and to whom he stated that he was weary of life and had been driven from his home by his parents.

He was removed to the University Hospital, where the stomach pump soon relieved him of the dangerous drug. He was the sent over to the Philadelphia Hospital by the police, where he still remains in a weak condition.

Goldsmith stated to the hospital authorities that his skull had been twice trephined. He was attacked last January by two colored men at Tenth and Morgan streets and beaten with a club and robbed. He had his skull fractured and was sent to the Hahnemann Hospital, and lay there in a critical condition until the beginning of August. His skull had been trephined twice and he had been discharged after his recovery, but had since been in a nervous condition.

According to this website, “Laudanum is an opium drug that is made into a tincture or an alcoholic solution. It was a well-celebrated beverage during the Victorian era. Due to its pain-relieving properties, laudanum was used as a remedy for many types of ailments, from common colds to more complicated conditions such as heart disease. At that time, everyone, regardless of age or gender, had access to laudanum.”

I had never heard the term “trephined” before, but found this explanation on Wikipedia:

Trepanning, also known as trepanation, trephination, trephining or making a burr hole … is a surgical intervention in which a hole is drilled or scraped into the human skull, exposing the dura mater to treat health problems related to intracranial diseases or release pressured blood buildup from an injury.

I searched for an earlier newspaper article that had reported this assault on Isadore, but could not find any article describing such an attack. And believe me, the Philadelphia newspapers had many, many articles about other victims who suffered fractured skulls in various ways, but nothing about this attack on Isadore. Had it actually happened?

Well, sixteen days later, the Philadelphia Inquirer had another article about Isadore on its front page:

“Jailed and Fined As A Drunk Case,” The Philadelphia Inquirer, September 18, 1893, p. 1

Continuation, p.2 of September 18, 1893 Philadelphia Inquirer

I won’t transcribe the whole article, as it is, as you can see, very lengthy, but the essence of it is that Isadore was arrested for drunkenness and breach of the peace, but he claimed that he was wrongfully accused because his behavior was not the result of alcohol, but an epileptic seizure caused by the January, 1893 assault and the trephining he had endured as a result of that assault. The newspaper investigated the matter and concluded that Isadore was telling the truth; the reporter even witnessed one of Isadore’s seizures while interviewing him. I will quote some of the more pertinent parts of the article:

Mr. Goldsmith is now in the St. Clement’s Hospital for Epileptics…under the care of his family. He is one of seven children of a formerly great clothing merchant and manufacturer…. One brother is a druggist…His father was a great friend and admirer of ex-Mayor Stokley.

Isadore gave this description of the January assault, as quoted in the article:

“On the 26^th of January, at 8 o’clock in the evening I was waylaid at Eleventh and Morgan streets and my watch and $15 in bills stolen. It was a cold, snowy night and few people were on the streets….I was jostled by two men…, and one seized my hands and the other robbed me, and, as they left, I received a blow on the back of the head. I was taken to the station house at Tenth and Buttonwood and then to the Hahnemann Hospital. There they made an exploratory incision in my skull, but failed to find any fracture.

“After this I began to have nervous spasms. I remained at the hospital until May 2, when I asked for my discharge and tried to resume work in my old positon at I.H. Sultzbach’s. On June 27 I was taken ill and was removed again to Hahnemann Hospital, June 30. On July 9 Dr. Van Lennep performed an operation, took out a piece of bone measuring 5/8 x 3/8 of an inch and trephined the skull. Since then I have been in different hospitals.”

The 1895 Philadelphia directory has a listing for an Isadore H. Sultzbach, clothier; I assume this must have been where Isadore was working before his injuries.⁷

Isadore then described what happened the morning of September 8; he woke up having one of his “spells” and decided to go to Episcopal Hospital for help. Along the way he had a seizure. Some passersby helped him and took him to the saloon for some seltzer water. He also asked someone to get the police to assist him, but instead the police officer hit him with his mace on the sole of his foot. Others in the bar told the officer that Isadore was not drunk, but sick. Nevertheless, the police officer took Isadore back to the station house, where the magistrate did not let him speak and threw him in jail.

Isadore was soon released, however. The bartender corroborated Isadore’s statement that he had not been drinking, and the doctor at the hospital where Isadore was taken after he was released from jail confirmed that he had epilepsy and that he had scars on his head from trephining, but he also said he smelled alcohol on Isadore’s breath. The reporter, however, thought that Isadore’s medicine, tincture of cinchona, smelled like liquor. Isadore’s roommate also stated that he had never known Isadore to be drunk. It was clearly the reporter’s conclusion that Isadore had been mistreated by the police and the magistrate.

But Isadore’s troubles were far from over. On August 14, 1894, he was found unconscious on the street and taken to the hospital.

“Unconscious on the Street,” The Philadelphia Inquirer, August 14, 1894, p. 5

On September 14, 1894, The Philadelphia Inquirer reported that Isadore had again attempted suicide by drinking laudanum.⁸ Then on May 4, 1895, The Philadelphia Times published this article:

“A Midnight Apparition,” The Philadelphia Times, May 4, 1895, p. 2

Obviously, Isadore had severe problems, whatever their origin and causes.

But why did he marry the same woman twice? More on that in my next post.

Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:S3HY-68DJ-WR?cc=1320976&wc=9FRT-N38%3A1073183102 : 16 May 2014), 004008905 > image 483 of 536; Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia. ↩
See my earlier post here. ↩
Philadelphia city directory, 1886, Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995. ↩
Philadelphia city directories, 1887-1898, Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995. ↩
Philadelphia city directory, 1905, Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995. ↩
New Jersey, Marriages, 1670-1980,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:FZPH-BLM : 6 November 2017), Isedore L. Garrison and Gean Morris, 26 Sep 1887; citing Camden City, Camden, New Jersey, United States, Division of Archives and Record Management, New Jersey Department of State, Trenton.; FHL microfilm 495,705. ↩
Philadelphia city directory, 1895, Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995. ↩
The Philadelphia Inquirer, September 14, 1894, p.2. ↩

Always Something New for Me to Learn: The “Hidden” Databases on FamilySearch

Posted on May 11, 2018 by Amy

After writing about the two oldest sons of Abraham Goldsmith and Cecilia Adler, I am glad to be able to turn to their daughter Rose. Rose was born on October 19, 1866, in Philadelphia, and as I wrote here, she married Sidney Morris Stern on May 25, 1892, when she was 26. Sidney was born January 14, 1861, in Philadelphia, and was the son of Morris Stern and Matilda Bamberger, who were German-born immigrants. His father was in the retail clothing business. Sidney was a jeweler.

(Am I the only one who finds it amusing that Sidney the jeweler married someone whose surname was Goldsmith?)

UPDATE: Thanks to a question asked by my cousin Jennifer about Sidney’s mother Matilda Bamberger, I discovered another twist in my crazy family tree. In looking to answer Jennifer’s question, I realized that I had two women named Matilda Bamberger on my tree, both married to Morris Stern. They were obviously duplicates. Looking more closely, I realized that Matilda and Morris Stern’s daughter Clara Stern was the mother of Julian Simsohn, who married Edwin Goldsmith’s daughter Cecile. In another words, Cecile married the nephew of her Aunt Rose’s husband Sidney.

That earlier post also reported that Rose and Sidney’s first child, Sylvan Goldsmith Stern, was born on March 2, 1893. Two years later Rose gave birth to twin boys, Allan Goldsmith Stern and Howard Eugene Stern, on August 6, 1895. I could not find Rose and her family on the 1900 census despite having their address in 1899, 1900, and 1901, but based on listings in the Philadelphia directories for those years,¹ I know that she was living in Philadelphia with her husband Sidney and their two younger sons, Allan and Howard. Sidney was in the jewelry business with his brother Eugene.

However, their oldest son Sylvan, who was seven at the time, was not living with them in 1900. He was living at the Pennsylvania Institution for the Deaf and Dumb in Philadelphia; according to the census record, he could not read, write or speak English at that time. From later records I learned that Sylvan was completely deaf.

Sylvan Stern, 1900 US Census
Pennsylvania Institution for Deaf and Dumb, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Page: 1; Enumeration District: 1043
Ancestry.com. 1900 United States Federal Census

By 1910, however, Sylvan was living at home and could now read and write and was in school. The family continued to live in Philadelphia and was joined by Rose’s younger sister Estelle, who was working as a schoolteacher. Sidney listed his occupation as wholesale jeweler. They also had two servants living in the home, one doing “chamber work” and the other a cook:

Sidney and Rose Goldsmith Stern and family, 1910 US census
Philadelphia Ward 47, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T624_1413; Page: 6A; Enumeration District: 1193; FHL microfilm: 1375426
Ancestry.com. 1910 United States Federal Census

In 1915, when he was 22, Sylvan was living in Riverton, New Jersey, in a household with four other men: two men from Holland whom I presume were brothers, Peter and Anthony Hooydonk, a German immigrant named Ferdinand Frohlich, and a Pennsylvania native named John Peguesse. All five men were in their early twenties and all were working in the florist business. Riverton is a small residential community about fifteen miles from Philadelphia across the Delaware River.

Sylvan Stern 1915 New Jersey census
New Jersey State Archive; Trenton, NJ, USA; State Census of New Jersey, 1915; Reference Number: L-06; Film Number: 8
Ancestry.com. New Jersey, State Census, 1915

While Sylvan was working in Riverton in 1915, his two younger brothers were in college: Allan was a sophomore at the University of Pennsylvania,² and his twin Howard was a student at Cornell University.³

In 1917-1918, all three of Rose and Sidney’s sons registered for the World War I draft. Sylvan reported that he was living at 1613 Poplar Street in Philadelphia, but working as a nurseryman in Riverton, New Jersey, for Henry A. Dreer, Inc. He also reported that he was totally deaf.

Sylvan Stern, World War I draft registration Registration State: Pennsylvania; Registration County: Philadelphia; Roll: 1907959; Draft Board: 50 Description Draft Card: S Source Information Ancestry.com. U.S., World War I Draft Registration Cards, 1917-1918

Allan was living at the same address and reported that he was a college student, and Howard, also living at the same address, was employed as a farm laborer by Florex Gardens in North Wales, Pennsylvania, which is about 25 miles from Philadelphia. Allan served in the Army’s Bureau of Standards in Washington, DC, from March 15, 1918, until January 8, 1919, when he was honorably discharged.⁴ I did not find any record of military service for Sylvan or Howard.

Allan Stern World War I draft registration
Registration State: Pennsylvania; Registration County: Philadelphia; Roll: 1907959; Draft Board: 50. Ancestry.com. U.S., World War I Draft Registration Cards, 1917-1918

Howard Stern, World War I draft registration
Registration State: Pennsylvania; Registration County: Philadelphia; Roll: 1907959; Draft Board: 50. Ancestry.com. U.S., World War I Draft Registration Cards, 1917-1918

In 1920, the whole family was still living at 1613 Poplar Street in Philadelphia. Sidney was retired at age 59, but his three sons were all employed. Sylvan and Howard were both working as florists in their own business, and Allan was employed as an electrical engineer. Rose’s sister Estelle was still living with them, now working as the director of a girls’ camp. ⁵

All three Stern brothers were married in the 1920s. First, on May 26, 1921, Sylvan Goldsmith Stern married Beatrice A. Osserman, the daughter of Simon E. Osserman and Dora Kessner in New York City. According to a source I found, Beatrice was, like Sylvan, deaf; she was born in New York City on October 30, 1899. Her parents were immigrants from Russia/Latvia, and her father was in the real estate business in 1920.⁶ This news item from the Philadelphia Evening Ledger reported that one of the bridesmaids was Dorothy G. Gerson, Sylvan’s first cousin and the daughter of his mother’s sister, Emily Goldsmith Gerson.

Philadelphia Evening Ledger, May 23, 1921, p. 11

Sylvan and Beatrice had two children during the 1920s.

Howard Stern was the second son of Rose Goldsmith and Sidney Stern to marry; in 1926 he married Madeline Kind Kohn,⁷ another Philadelphia native; she was born on June 3, 1898, the daughter of Joseph Kohn and Clara Kind.⁸ Madeline’s father was a shirt manufacturer. Here is Madeline’s high school yearbook picture from 1916:

Madeline Kind Kohn,
U.S., School Yearbooks, 1880-2012″; Yearbook Title: Record Book of William Penn High School for Girls June Class, 1916; Year: 1916
Ancestry.com. U.S., School Yearbooks, 1900-1990

Howard and Madeline would have two children.

The last son to marry was Allan Stern, and his wife’s story is quite tragic. The Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Marriage Index on Ancestry reports that Allan married Gladys Fliegelman,⁹ daughter of Harry Fliegelman and Gussye Fridenberg, in 1928, but I learned an important lesson about that index while researching their marriage. More below.

Gladys was born on April 23, 1904, in Philadelphia.¹⁰ Two years later on June 30, 1906, her mother Gussye suffered complications after giving birth to a second child and died six weeks later on July 17, 1906, from parenchymatous nephritis or kidney disease.

Gussye Fliegeman death certificate
Pennsylvania Historic and Museum Commission; Pennsylvania, USA; Certificate Number Range: 065461-068420
Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1966

Thus, Gladys lost her mother when she was just a toddler. Harry Fliegelman remarried in 1910, and in 1920, they were all living together in Philadelphia, where Harry was a furniture merchant.¹¹

In 1924, Gladys graduated from the Philadelphia School of Design for Women; her photograph appeared in the Philadelphia Inquirer with some of her classmates. She is in the middle of the photograph on the right.

Gladys Fliegelman School of Design graduation,
The Philadelphia Inquirer, June 6, 1924, p, 17

And then I thought that Allan and Gladys were married in 1928, as the Ancestry.com database indicated. But I was confused when I found this will that she wrote on January 30, 1929:

Gladys Fliegelman Stern will
Probate Records (District of Columbia), 1801-1930; Author: District of Columbia. Register of Wills; Probate Place: District of Columbia, Washington, D.C.

Gladys refers to herself as “a single woman, at present, and entering into a marriage with Allan G. Stern of Washington, District of Columbia, on January 31, 1929.” Since the Ancestry database of Philadelphia marriages indicated that they were married in 1928, why did she describe herself as single on January 30, 1929?

And this is where I learned something new. In discussing something completely different on the Tracing the Tribe Facebook page, a member there named Sharon Roth pointed out that FamilySearch has images of the Philadelphia marriage licenses and certificates. They are not indexed for searching, but once you know the marriage license number from the index on Ancestry or FamilySearch, you can find the underlying documents by searching through the database of images by date and number.

This was a database that I could not find when I searched the FamilySearch records listings, so I am not sure how I would have found it without Sharon’s help. You can find the two databases here and here. Thank you to Sharon and to Amberly of The Genealogy Girl for showing me how to find these databases through the catalog on FamilySearch so that I now can find all these “hidden” databases. Amberly had actually blogged about this over a year ago, but I’d forgotten about her tips. You can learn more from her blog here.

With this new information, I was able to find the license and the rabbi’s certificate of marriage for Allan and Gladys. Now I know that although their marriage license was issued on December 31, 1928, they were not in fact married until January 31, 1929, the day after Gladys drew up her will.

Marriage record of Allan G. Stern and Gladys Fliegelmen, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, marriage records, Marriages, 568600-568799, 1928, pp. 358-359. FamilySearch.org

Returning to the will, its contents strike me as somewhat odd. Gladys bequeathed all her property and income to any issue she might have at the time of her death; that is, whereas one might assume that her husband would inherit before her children, Gladys wanted her estate to go directly to her children. Moreover, her will provides that if she died without issue, her sister would inherit all her personal possessions. Allan would only inherit 25% of her income and only for as long as he did not remarry. Gladys’ sister and brother would receive the other 75% of her income and the principal when Allan died.

Now call me a romantic, but this seems like a rather unromantic way to start a marriage—leaving your husband such a limited part of your estate.

Tragically, this will took on far more significance not long after Allan and Gladys married. On February 6, 1930, a week after their first anniversary, Gladys took her own life by jumping from the seventh floor of Emergency Hospital in Washington; she had been a patient in the hospital for six months after an earlier suicide attempt when she had jumped from the fourth floor of the apartment building where she and Allan had been living. In its article about this tragedy, the Philadelphia Inquirer described her as a poetess.¹² An article from a different paper reported that she had been “despondent because of poor health.”¹³

Thus, the new decade began on a heartbreaking note for the family of Rose Goldsmith and Sidney Stern and their sons, especially for their son Allan.

I was not surprised that I could not find Allan on the 1930 census, although he is listed in the 1930 Washington, D.C., directory as an engineer for Fred S. Gichner, residing at 3100 Connecticut Avenue; in the 1931 directory he was still working at Fred S. Gichner, but now residing at 3405 Woodley Road. On the 1930 census, I found a Gichner family living at 3405 Woodley Road so it would appear that Allan may have moved in with his employer’s family after his wife’s death, although he was not listed at either address on the 1930 census.¹⁴

The rest of the family of Rose Goldsmith and Sidney Stern all continued to live in Philadelphia in 1930. Sidney was retired,¹⁵ Sylvan was now working as a packer in a sporting goods business,¹⁶ and Howard was practicing law.¹⁷

Sadly, my cousin Rose Goldsmith Stern died less than a year after her daughter-in-law Gladys. Rose was 64 when she died on January 24, 1931, from heart disease: hypertension and arteriosclerosis leading to myocarditis and angina pectoris. Her obituary reported that she died from a heart attack. It also stated that Rose had been the manager of the Beth Israel Association for the Deaf and the national chairwoman of the Council of Jewish Women.¹⁸

Rose Goldsmith Stern death certificate,
Pennsylvania Historic and Museum Commission; Pennsylvania, USA; Certificate Number Range: 001001-004000. Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1966

Rose was survived by her husband Sidney and her three sons and four grandchildren as well as seven of her siblings. Her husband Sidney continued to live in Philadelphia. In 1940 he was living in the Majestic Hotel where his sister-in-law Estelle Goldsmith and brother-in-law Edwin M. Goldsmith were also living.¹⁹ Sidney died on October 19, 1942, also of heart disease.²⁰

Sylvan Stern and his family continued to live in Philadelphia in 1940, and Sylvan was still working as a packer in a sporting goods store at that time.²¹ According to his 1942 draft registration, his employer was Edward K. Tryon Company.²² Sylvan died on December 21, 1960. He was 67 years old. He was survived by his wife and children and his two brothers.

Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1966

Allan Goldsmith Stern remarried several years after the death of his first wife Gladys. In 1940 he and his second wife Margaret were living in Washington, D.C., where Allan was an engineer for an ornamental iron company, which his draft registration revealed was still Fred S. Gichner Iron Works.²³ I could not find any other information about Margaret, but in 1956 Allan married for a third time; his third wife was Alma Hollander.²⁴

Allan Stern died on June 9, 1964, from cancer, according to his obituary in the Washington Evening Star. The obituary reported that in addition to his long career at Fred S. Gichner, Allan had been a founding member of the Beth El Congregation of Maryland and had helped establish the Kaufman Camp for Underprivileged Children on Chesapeake Bay. He was survived by his wife Alma and his brother Howard.²⁵

Howard Stern was the only of Rose Goldsmith’s sons to live beyond his 60s. In 1940 he was living with his family in Philadelphia and practicing law, which his draft registration in 1942 revealed was his own practice.²⁶ Howard died on July 10, 1989, just a few weeks short of his 94^th birthday. He was survived by his children.²⁷

The family of Rose Goldsmith Stern certainly faced a number of challenges. But overall, they appear to have been a family that overcame those challenges, found professional success, and gave back to society in many ways.

Thank you once again to Sharon and to Amberly for their help!

Philadelphia city directories, 1899, 1900, 1901, Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995. ↩
University of Pennsylvania Yearbook, U.S., School Yearbooks, 1880-2012″; Yearbook Title: The Record; Year: 1915. Ancestry.com. U.S., School Yearbooks, 1900-1990 ↩
Cornell Yearbook, U.S., School Yearbooks, 1880-2012″; Yearbook Title: Cornellian; Year: 1916. Ancestry.com. U.S., School Yearbooks, 1900-1990 ↩
Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, WWI Veterans Service and Compensation Files, 1917-1919, 1934-1948. Original data: World War I Veterans Service and Compensation File, 1934–1948. RG 19, Series 19.91. Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, Harrisburg Pennsylvania. “Allan G. Stern, Official of Gichner Iron Works,” Philadelphia Evening Star, June 10, 1964, p. 37. ↩
Family of Sidney Stern, 1920 US census, Census Place: Philadelphia Ward 47, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T625_1646; Page: 7A; Enumeration District: 1791. Ancestry.com. 1920 United States Federal Census ↩
Simon Osserman and family, 1920 US Census, Year: 1920; Census Place: Manhattan Assembly District 21, New York, New York; Roll: T625_1224; Page: 1B; Enumeration District: 1445. Ancestry.com. 1920 United States Federal Census ↩
Marriage of Howard Stern and Madeline Kind Kohn, Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Marriages, 1852-1968. Original data: Marriage Records. Pennsylvania Marriages. Various County Register of Wills Offices, Pennsylvania. Film Number: 004141829 ↩
Madeline Kind Kuhn Passport Application, National Archives and Records Administration (NARA); Washington D.C.; Roll #: 1494; Volume #: Roll 1494 – Certificates: 141500-141875, 12 Feb 1921-15 Feb 1921. ↩
Marriage of Allan Stern and Gladys Fliegelman, Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Marriages, 1852-1968. Original data: Marriage Records. Pennsylvania Marriages. Various County Register of Wills Offices, Pennsylvania. Film Number: 004141829 ↩
District of Columbia Deaths, 1874-1961,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:F7TK-SXY : accessed 1 May 2018), Gladys Stern, 06 Feb 1930, District of Columbia, United States; citing reference ID 325790, District Records Center, Washington D.C.; FHL microfilm 2,116,108. ↩
Harry Fliegelman and family, 1920 US Census, Census Place: Philadelphia Ward 32, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T625_1633; Page: 4A; Enumeration District: 1065. Ancestry.com. 1920 United States Federal Census ↩
“Poetess Dies in Plunge,” The Philadelphia Inquirer, February 7, 1930, p. 7. ↩
“Woman Ends Life Because of Illness,” The Dayton Herald,” February 6, 1930, p. 33. ↩
Washington, DC, City Directories, 1930, 1931, 1929, Ancestry.com. U.S. City Directories, 1822-1995. ↩
Sidney and Rose Goldsmith Stern, 1930 US Census, Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Page: 8B; Enumeration District: 0397. Ancestry.com. 1930 United States Federal Census ↩
Sylvan Stern and family, 1930 US Census, Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Page: 10B; Enumeration District: 1077. Ancestry.com. 1930 United States Federal Census. ↩
Howard Stern and family, 1930 US Census, Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Page: 20A; Enumeration District: 1029.
Ancestry.com. 1930 United States Federal Census. ↩
“Mrs. Rose Goldsmith Stern,” The Philadelphia Inquirer, January 25, 1931, p. 17. ↩
Sidney Stern, 1940 US Census, Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: m-t0627-03698; Page: 81A; Enumeration District: 51-384. Ancestry.com. 1940 United States Federal Census ↩
Sidney Stern, death certificate, Pennsylvania Historic and Museum Commission; Pennsylvania, USA; Certificate Number Range: 085451-088100. Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1966. Certificate Number: 86311 ↩
Sylvan Stern and family, 1940 US Census, Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: m-t0627-03752; Page: 12A; Enumeration District: 51-2119. Ancestry.com. 1940 United States Federal Census ↩
Sidney Stern, World War II draft registration, The National Archives at St. Louis; St. Louis, Missouri; World War II draft cards (Fourth Registration) for the State of Pennsylvania; Record Group Title: Records of the Selective Service System, 1926-1975; Record Group Number: 147; Series Number: M1951. Source Information
Ancestry.com. U.S., World War II Draft Registration Cards, 1942 ↩
Allan and Margaret Stern, 1940 US Census, Census Place: Washington, District of Columbia, District of Columbia; Roll: m-t0627-00563; Page: 66B; Enumeration District: 1-307, Ancestry.com. 1940 United States Federal Census. Allan Stern, World War II draft registration, The National Archives at St. Louis; St. Louis, Missouri; World War II Draft Cards (Fourth Registration) for the State of Maryland; Record Group Title: Records of the Selective Service System, 1926-1975; Record Group Number: 147; Series Number: M1939. Source Information Ancestry.com. U.S., World War II Draft Registration Cards, 1942 ↩
“Alma Stern,” Washington (D.C.) Evening Star, September 23, 1979, p. 49. ↩
“Allan G. Stern, Official of Gichner Iron Works,” Philadelphia Evening Star, June 10, 1964, p. 37. ↩
Howard Stern, World War II draft registration, The National Archives at St. Louis; St. Louis, Missouri; World War II draft cards (Fourth Registration) for the State of Pennsylvania; Record Group Title: Records of the Selective Service System, 1926-1975; Record Group Number: 147; Series Number: M1951. Source Information
Ancestry.com. U.S., World War II Draft Registration Cards, 1942 ↩
Number: 167-32-5823; Issue State: Pennsylvania; Issue Date: 1956-1958. Ancestry.com. U.S., Social Security Death Index, 1935-2014. ↩

The Tragic Story of Charles Hamberg: Gun Violence in South Carolina

Posted on May 2, 2016 by Amy

Last week I wrote about Samuel Hamberg, the twelve year old boy who appeared in the household of my great-great-uncle Henry Schoenthal in 1880 as his adopted son. As I described in that post, I had determined that Samuel was the son of Charles Hamberg of Columbia, South Carolina; he appeared on the 1870 census living in Charles Hamberg’s household along with a woman named Tenah Hamberg and a servant also with the first name Tenah.

Through my research, I concluded that Charles Hamberg was in fact born Baruch Hamberg, the son of the first Samuel Hamberg, my great-great-grandmother Henriette Hamberg Schoenthal’s uncle, her father’s younger brother.

Baruch had left Breuna, Germany, in 1852, with his first cousin Abraham, who died in Savannah, George, in 1854. Baruch, I postulated, became Charles and had married a woman named Mary E. Hanchey in New Hanover, North Carolina, in March, 1853.

Charles Hamberg and Mary Hanchey marriage record 1853
Ancestry.com. North Carolina, Marriage Records, 1741-2011 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2015.
Original data: North Carolina County Registers of Deeds. Microfilm. Record Group 048. North Carolina State Archives, Raleigh, NC.

But why did Samuel end up with my great-great-uncle Henry in Washington, Pennsylvania, in 1880? What had happened to his father? His mother? And who was his mother? Was it Mary Hanchey, the woman Charles married in 1853 and with whom he was living in 1860? Or was it “Tenah,” the woman he was living with in 1870?

First, I focused on Mary, the first wife. Searching on Ancestry, I found this entry:

Record of Deaths in Columbia South Carolina page 80 [p.80] Mrs. Mary A. Hamberg , wife of Charles Hamberg died in Col’a So. Ca. Novr 18, 1866, having been shot [page 166] by a man, Toland A. Bass, a few days previous.

Unfortunately, the database had no further information about this terrible incident, but I was determined to learn more about Mary’s death. Was it accidental? A murder? What happened to Toland Bass?

After much searching, I found this article from the November 20, 1866 issue of The Daily Phoenix, the Columbia, South Carolina, daily paper (p. 2):

Coroner’s Inquests.—On Friday last, a difficulty occurred between Toland R. Bass and C. Hamberg. The latter went into the house to get his pistol, but on coming out, was stopped by Mr. Jos. Burdell, when Mrs. H. took the pistol away from him and went to the door, holding the pistol in both hands, but not attempting to use it, and said to Mr. Bass, “Do not shoot Mr. H.; if you want to shoot any one, shoot me.” Bass attempted to take the pistol from her, but failed. He then stepped several paces from her, presented his pistol three times and the fourth time fired, the ball taking effect in the abdomen of the unfortunate woman.

She called to a friend near by to take care of her, as she was shot and ready to faint. Mrs. H. was taken into the house apparently suffering greatly. Dr. Talley was called in and rendered all possible medical assistance. She lingered until Sunday afternoon, when she expired. A jury of inquest was empannelled by Coroner Walker on Sunday afternoon, and after a full and careful investigation, rendered the following verdict: “That Mrs. Mary E. Hamberg came to her death, on the 18^th of November, 1866, from the effects of a ball fired (willfully and maliciously) from a pistol by Toland R. Bass.” Warrants have been issued for the arrest of Bass.

Who was Toland Bass, and why did he kill Mary Hanchey Hamberg? Why did Mary suggest that he should shoot her, not her husband?

The only thing I could find about Mr. Bass was that he served as a private in the Confederate Army during the Civil War in Company H of the South Carolina Cavalry Regiment.

Toland R. Bass
https://www.fold3.com/page/637025444_toland_r%20bass/photos/

Charles Hamberg, on the other hand, appears to have been a private citizen in Columbia, South Carolina, during the Civil War, selling provisions to the Ladies Hospital. Here is an example of an invoice he submitted:

Page 15 Confederate Citizens File – Fold3
https://www.fold3.com/image/31347220?xid=1945

I don’t know what might have precipitated this altercation between Bass and the Hambergs; all I can do is speculate. Columbia, South Carolina, had suffered much damage during the Civil War. The Union Army occupied the city during the last months of the war in 1865. As described in Wikipedia:

On February 17, 1865, Columbia surrendered to Sherman, and Wade Hampton’s Confederate cavalry retreated from the city. Union forces were overwhelmed by throngs of liberated Federal prisoners and emancipated slaves. Many soldiers took advantage of ample supplies of liquor in the city and began to drink. Fires began in the city, and high winds spread the flames across a wide area. Most of the central city was destroyed, and municipal fire companies found it difficult to operate in conjunction with the invading army, many of whom were also fighting the fire. The burning of Columbia has engendered controversy ever since, with some claiming the fires were accidental, a deliberate act of vengeance, or perhaps set by retreating Confederate soldiers who lit cotton bales while leaving town. On that same day, the Confederates evacuated Charleston. On February 18, Sherman’s forces destroyed virtually anything of military value in Columbia, including railroad depots, warehouses, arsenals, and machine shops.

English: The Burning of Columbia, South Carolina, February 17, 1865 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You can read more about the Columbia fires here and here. In the aftermath of the war and during Reconstruction, places like Columbia struggled to rebuild their economy and their infrastructure. There was widespread poverty. Perhaps Toland Bass was an embittered Southern veteran; perhaps he resented Charles Hamberg as a merchant who not only didn’t serve in the war but made money during it. Or maybe it is something much more personal that created the animosity that led to the gruesome murder of Mary Hanchey Hamberg. I don’t know.

After the murder, Toland Bass ran off to avoid arrest, and the governor of South Carolina, James L. Orr, issued a proclamation offering an award of $200 for his arrest and delivery to South Carolina for trial. Charles Hamberg offered a separate award of $500 for his arrest. (Thank you to Ann Meddin Hellman of the Jewish Historical Society of South Carolina for helping me locate some of these articles

Proclamation about Mary Hamberg's murder

Thursday, November 29, 1866 Paper: (Charleston, South Carolina)

Bass eluded arrest for four months until he was finally found and arrested in New York in March, 1867.

I could not find any record of a trial or any other proceeding involving Bass, but I did find this news item announcing his death from cholera on July 15, 1867.

Meanwhile, Charles Hamberg had moved on. Thanks to my blogging friend Cathy Meder-Dempsey, I know that Charles married Lena Goodman on April 6, 1867, in Charleston, South Carolina.

https://archive.org/stream/jewishmarriageno00elza#page/32/mode/2up

I believe that Lena was incorrectly entered as “Tenah” on the 1870 census and that she was the mother of Samuel Hamberg, the boy later adopted by Henry Schoenthal. Although I do not have an exact birthdate for Samuel, the 1900 census reported that he was born in February 1868, that is, about eleven months after the marriage of Charles Hamberg and Lena Goodman.

Even after remarrying, Charles seemed to have troubles in Columbia. In September, 1869, he was involved in another rather unpleasant altercation:

There was also a dispute at his store:

Charles also charged a police officer with inappropriate conduct (public drunkenness) and engaged in a citizen’s arrest. He seemed to have a tendency to get involved in conflicts.

In the 1870s, Charles advertised his wood and coal business regularly in the Columbia newspaper, The Daily Phoenix.

He also participated in a Purim celebration in Columbia, dressing up as Jocko the Ape. (Purim is a Jewish holiday where children and adults dress up in costumes and celebrate the triumph of the Jews over the evildoer Haman who sought to kill the Jews in ancient Persia.)

The Daily Phoenix, March 26, 1872, p. 2

So whatever his troubles, Charles seemed to be living a somewhat ordinary life in Columbia.

So what happened that caused little Samuel to be adopted by Henry Schoenthal? Tragically, both of Samuel’s parents died before 1880. His mother Lena died in 1877 and is buried in the cemetery of the Columbia Hebrew Benevolent Society. She was only 28 years old. I’ve been unable to locate a death certificate or obituary yet, but will continue to look. (I contacted the cemetery, but they did not have any further information.)

Headstone for Lena Hamberg at the Hebrew Benevolent Society cemetery in Columbia, SC http://jhssc.org/hebrew-benevolent-society-cemetery/

Two years later on October 16, 1879, Charles Hamberg ended his own life, apparently due to financial difficulties, although I would venture that having had one wife murdered and a second dying at a very young age might also have given him sufficient reason for some desperation. His suicide made the papers even beyond Columbia.

Can you imagine today identifying someone by their religious background for no apparently relevant reason?

Charles is also buried in the Columbia Hebrew Benevolent Society cemetery, next to Lena.

Headstone of Charles Hamberg at Hebrew Benevolent Society cemetery in Columbia, SC http://jhssc.org/hebrew-benevolent-society-cemetery/

What a hard life Charles Hamberg had once coming to the US. He lost his cousin Abraham in 1854, his wife Mary was murdered in 1866, his second wife Lena died in 1877, and he suffered financial problems and took his own life in 1879. I imagine that that was not the life he dreamed of when he left Breuna, Germany, in 1852. For him the American dream did not come to be.

His son Samuel was just eleven years old and had lost his mother and his father. He ended up in Pennsylvania with Henry Schoenthal, his second cousin. How did he end up there? That leads to the next mystery.

Update on the Death of Norman Schoenthal and Why I Love Libraries and Librarians

Posted on January 18, 2016 by Amy

I never really realized all the things that librarians do until I starting doing genealogy research. I’ve loved libraries ever since my mother first took us to the local public library as small children on her first driving experience after she received her driver’s license. Those trips became a weekly adventure, and I remember the long, winding road that brought us to the library and the smell of the new books on display in the children’s room, which was on the lower level. And I remember how we each could pick a few books to check out and take home for the week to be returned the following week.

In my professional career, I also encountered amazing help from law libraries and librarians. They seemed able to find resources and books I’d never be able to find on my own. The librarians where I worked could find something in a few keystrokes that might take me hours to find, if I found it at all.

My latest experience with a librarian has reinforced my appreciation and gratitude for all that librarians do. In my last post, I wrote about the sad death of Norman Schoenthal at age 41 as recorded on his death certificate.

Delaware Death Records, 1855-1961,” database with images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:KX3F-P3J : accessed 14 January 2016), Norman C Schoenthal, 15 Sep 1955; citing Wilmington, New Castle, Delaware, United States, Hall of Records, Dover; FHL microfilm .

I had wondered what Norman was doing in Delaware, why he was residing in Washington, DC, and whether or not his death was accidental, as originally reported, or a suicide, as the amended certificate indicates. I had written to the Wilmington Public Library to see if there was a news article about the incident, and a reference librarian there responded in less than 24 hours and sent me an article that addressed my question. For free! I am very grateful to Ben, that librarian, for helping me to solve the mystery of Norman Schoenthal.

Here is the article he sent, which is from the September 16, 1955, issue of the Wilmington Morning News (p.4):

Wilmington (DE) Morning News, September 16, 1955, p.4

Man Dies Under Truck Wheels

Norman C. Schoenthal, 41-year old Washington, D.C., hotel man, became Delaware’s 74^th highway fatality victim yesterday, when he was killed instantly by a truck on Fairview Avenue, just off the DuPont Highway at Farnhurst.

State troopers said the victim either slipped, fell or dived from the side of the road and was run over by the four tandem wheels of a 20-ton tractor trailer operated by George R. Lammy, 32, of near West Chester. The vehicle is owned by Trans Materials Company, Berwyn, Pa.

Troopers said Schoenthal was standing on the south side of Fairview Avenue near the Farnhurst Post Office, about 60 feet west of the DuPont Parkway. The driver told police he saw the man at the edge of the road as he drove past and declared the latter seemed to jump under the four wheels of the trailer.

Investigation showed that Schoenthal was engaged in the hotel business and had spent Wednesday night at the Twin Willows Tourist Home, just in the rear of the post office. His car was found at the tourist home. Police said he apparently was traveling alone.

Lammy was driving the gravel-filled truck into the Petrillo Brothers gravel pit, where hot mix asphaltic road surfacing material was being prepared.

The truck driver was arrested on a charge of manslaughter and held in $2000 bail by Magistrate Samuel J. Hatton of New Castle.

Troopers are continuing their investigation. [The remainder of the article is about an unrelated matter.]

The article answered some of my questions. It does not appear that Norman was a patient at the nearby state hospital. It does confirm that he was living in Washington, contrary to the burial card from Mt. Sinai cemetery where Norman was buried, which said he was residing in Atlantic City at the time of his death. The news article also suggests that Norman was still in the hotel business and was perhaps in Wilmington on business.

I also was able to find where the accident occurred, assuming that the post office is still in the same general location in Farnhurst. Du Pont Parkway still exists and runs north-south in Delaware (also known as Route 13), and the post office is located right off the parkway south of where the parkway now intersects with Interstate 295. Interestate 295 runs east-west and crosses into Delaware from New Jersey over the Delaware Memorial Bridge and runs west to connect with Interstate 95. According to Wikipedia, construction of the Farnhurst interchange on Interstate 295 was not completed until 1961; my guess is that the road that was Fairview Avenue in Farnhurst disappeared at some point after Norman’s death as part of the construction of this interchange. Probably the Two Willows Motel disappeared around that time as well.

https://www.google.com/maps/search/us+post+office+farnhurst+delaware/@39.6904184,-75.5890006,14z

But there are so many unanswered questions. Did Norman jump in front of the truck as the driver asserted and as the coroner apparently concluded? He had been recently divorced, had lost his father, and had sold his business in Florida. He could certainly have been depressed.

What happened to the driver, who had been arrested on manslaughter charges? Certainly if the death was ruled a suicide, the charges should have been dismissed, I would think. I asked Ben, the reference librarian in Wilmington, whether there were any follow-up stories about the investigation that had still been pending at the time this article was published, but he wrote back to say he’d been unable to find any. I guess the legal niceties were not as important to report as the gruesome death itself.

What a terribly sad way to die, whether it was accidental or intentional.

Thank you again, Ben and the Wilmington, Delaware, public library for your kind and generous assistance. And thank you to all librarians everywhere.

Was It An Accidental Poisoning?

Posted on March 27, 2015 by Amy

Myer Nusbaum, my first cousin, four times removed, committed suicide after suffering from influenza from an extended period of time, a not all that rare a consequence of severe cases of the flu, as I’ve learned. He died in the arms of his fifteen year old son, Jacob Aub Nusbaum. His wife Rosalie Aub and daughter Corinne also came to identify his body. What impact could such an experience have on these survivors?

Of course, I cannot know for sure what they felt or how this affected them. I can only report the facts as recorded in documents and let them stand for themselves. His daughter Corinne became a successful student. She attended the Philadelphia Normal School, described by the Philadelphia Times as “Philadelphia’s great training school for teachers,” and graduated in 1897 when she was nineteen years old. (The Philadelphia Times, June 30, 1897, p. 4) She was certified to teach kindergarten. (The Philadelphia Times, July 1, 1897, p. 5) On Class Day in June, 1897, she was one of the authors of the class skit entitled “The Utopian Normal School.” The paper even included a portrait of her as one of the “active participants” in the Class Day exercises.

The Philadelphia Times, June 30, 1897, p. 4

In 1900, six years after Myer’s death, Rosalie and the two children, now 22 and 21, were living together on Cedar Avenue in Philadelphia with a boarder and a servant, and Jacob (now called Jack) was working as a salesman. Despite her training to become a teacher, Corinne did not have any occupation listed on the 1900 census.

Within a year or so of the census, Corinne married Albert E. Wood. Albert was born in Boston, the son of Samuel Wood and Emma Shaw, both born in England. Samuel was a salesman, according to the 1880 US census. Albert was the youngest child, and by 1880, the family had relocated to Camden, New Jersey. In 1900 Albert was living in Philadelphia with his older brother James and James’ wife Laura. Albert Wood and Corinne Nusbaum must have married soon thereafter as on December 9, 1901, their son Albert E. Wood, Jr., was born in Philadelphia. (I cannot locate a marriage record for Corinne and Albert in Philadelphia, so perhaps they were married in New Jersey.)

Albert continued to work as a salesman, and according to the 1901 Philadelphia directory, they were living at 5020 Hazel Avenue. The 1901 directory also has Corinne’s brother Jacob listed at that address, working as a salesman, so I assume that Corinne’s mother may also have been living with Corinne and Albert and Jacob.

According to the 1910 census, Albert and Corinne and their son were still living at 5020 Hazel Avenue along with Corinne’s mother Rosalie (listed as Rose A. Nusbaum on the census report) and a domestic servant. Albert’s occupation was reported as a traveling salesman of dyes. Jacob is not included on that census record.

Year: 1910; Census Place: Philadelphia Ward 46, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T624_1413; Page: 7A; Enumeration District: 1185; FHL microfilm: 1375426

I cannot seem to locate Jacob Nusbaum on the 1910 census at all, whether I search for him as Jacob, Jack, or John, a name he seemed to adopt as an adult. I found one Jacob Nusbaum living in Bradford, Pennsylvania, but he was an oil producer with a wife, and given what I know about Jacob after 1910, that does not seem likely to be the right Jacob Nusbaum.

By 1917, however, Jacob, now using John, was living in Pittsburgh, according to his World War I draft registration. How can I be certain that this is the right person? The next of kin listed on his registration is “Roslie A. Nusbaum” of 5020 Hazel Avenue in Philadelphia. Jacob/John was working as a traveling electric salesman for the Incandescent Supply Company.

Registration State: Pennsylvania; Registration County: Allegheny; Roll: 1908016; Draft Board: 03

Meanwhile, back in Philadelphia, Albert Wood and his family (as well as Rosalie, apparently) were all still living at 5020 Hazel Avenue, and Albert was a salesman for a chemical company, according to his draft registration. Since in 1920, his occupation is reported as a dye salesman, I assume that that is what he was also selling in 1917. The family was still living at 5020 Hazel Avenue in 1920, including Rosalie.

Registration State: Pennsylvania; Registration County: Philadelphia; Roll: 1907958; Draft Board: 49

I had a hard time locating Jacob/John on the 1920 census, but I believe this entry is his at 3401 Fifth Avenue in Pittsburgh:

Year: 1920; Census Place: Pittsburgh Ward 4, Allegheny, Pennsylvania; Roll: T625_1519; Page: 2A; Enumeration District: 373; Image: 895

There are several errors; it says his parents were born in Ohio, when in fact both were born in Pennsylvania. It says he was married, but there is no record of that. So why do I believe this is the right person? The name (albeit badly misspelled), the age (he was actually 40, not 38), and the occupation (traveling salesman). More importantly, he was a roomer at 3401 Fifth Avenue in Pittsburgh; on his 1917 draft registration his address had been 3401 Forbes Avenue. Forbes Street also appears on the same page as the listings on Fifth Avenue on the census report and is very close by.

Was the census taker confused? Was Jacob/John confused in 1917? Or did he just happen to move to a new location with the same house number a few blocks away? It just seems like too much similarity in the address to be coincidental. So given that the information might have been given by the head of household where Jacob was a roomer, someone who might not have known where his parents were born or exactly how old he was, I am reasonably certain that this is the right John Nusbaum.

Back in Philadelphia, Jacob/John’s sister and her family and his mother continued to live at 5020 Hazel Avenue. On February 5, 1929, Rosalie Aub Nusbaum died at age 74 from a cerebral hemorrhage. She had lived 35 years since her husband’s sad death in 1894. She was buried beside him at Mt. Sinai cemetery.

Description
Certificate Number Range : 024001-027000
Source Information
Ancestry.com. Pennsylvania, Death Certificates, 1906-1963 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2014.
Original data: Pennsylvania (State). Death certificates, 1906–1963. Series 11.90 (1,905 cartons). Records of the Pennsylvania Department of Health, Record Group 11. Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

Her son Jacob/John died a year later on March 3, 1930, from what was ruled an accidental poisoning after drinking a bichloride solution. There was no coroner’s inquest on this death, but given the family history, I had some questions. How does one accidentally drink a poisonous solution? According to this article from the New England Journal of Medicine published in 1951, mercuric bicholoride was “widely available to the public” in tablet form for use as a disinfectant. It was ranked sixth on a list of the most common toxic materials ingested at Boston City Hospital between 1934 and 1943, which the authors of the article interpreted as “an indication of its popularity as means of attempting suicide.”

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

The death certificate indicates that the place of death was 5427 Kentucky Avenue in Pittsburgh. I looked up that address on the 1930 census and found that Hyman and Charlotte Grinberg were living there. They were a foreign-born retired couple in their sixties; Hyman was Russian, Charlotte was Romanian. In 1920 they’d been living at the same address with their daughter Pauline, and Hyman had been working as a merchant. What was Jacob/John Nusbaum doing at their home, and why was he drinking a bicholoride solution? Or had he ingested it days before? I was surprised not to find any news report or coroner’s inquest about this unfortunate accident.

The residence listed for Jacob/John Nusbaum on the death certificate is Montefiore Hospital in Pittsburgh. At first I wondered whether he was a residential patient at the hospital. If so, what was he doing at the home of the Grinbergs when he died? But then I looked at the 1929 Pittsburgh city directory and found a J. A. Nusbaum listed as a salesman for the Incandescent Lighting Company, living at 5427 Kentucky Avenue, the address where he died and where the Grinbergs were listed on the 1930 census. John/Jacob must have been a boarder in the home of the Grinbergs after their daughter Pauline left home. So he died at home. I don’t know why the certificate indicates his home was at the hospital. Maybe the informant didn’t know where John lived?

Title : Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, City Directory, 1929

The informant on the death certificate was not a family member, but someone named M. Newland residing at 922 Penn Avenue in Pittsburgh. It was clear that it was not someone who knew him well as neither parent’s name was included on the certificate nor did he know Jacob’s birth date. He did know that Jacob worked as a salesman and that he was born in Philadelphia. My initial guess was that Mr. Newland was either a lawyer or perhaps a friend who did not know Jacob very well. But then I looked for him in the 1929 directory and found that he was the president of the Incandescent Lighting Company, Jacob’s employer.

Jacob “John” Nusbaum was buried at Mt. Sinai cemetery in Philadelphia with his parents; he was 51 when died (not “about 45,” as indicated on the death certificate).

His sister Corinne Nusbaum Wood was the only surviving member of the family. In 1930, she, her husband Albert, and their son Albert, Jr., (now 28) were living at Rittenhouse Plaza on Walnut Street, paying $335 in rent. Albert, Sr., was still selling dye; Albert, Jr., was working in sales for an oil refinery.

In 1934, Albert, Jr., married Rachel Crownover. They were both 33 years old. Rachel was a Pennsylvania native and lived in Huntingdon as a child; her father Edgar Holmes Crownover was a hotelkeeper there. He died at age 43 in 1907 when Rachel was six; her mother Charlotte stayed in Huntingdon with the children for a number of years, but by 1920 they had relocated to Philadelphia where Rachel was working as a stenographer. In 1930 Rachel was living with her brother Charles, her mother having died the year before. Rachel was now working as an auditor for a furnace company. Four years later she married Albert E. Wood, Jr.

On April 19, 1938, Albert E. Wood, Sr., died from arteriosclerosis. He was 63 years old. He was cremated.

Two years later his widow Corinne was still living where they’d been living at the Fairfax Apartments, according to the 1940 census. Albert, Jr., and Rachel were living at the Embassy Apartments on Walnut Street. Albert was working as an air conditioning engineer, and Rachel was working as secretary. They had not had any children.

Year: 1940; Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T627_3692; Page: 2B; Enumeration District: 51-149

Corinne Nusbaum Wood died on March 15, 1953, from heart disease; she was 74. Like her husband, she was cremated.

Her son Albert, Jr., died two years later on April 1, 1955, of a heart attack. He was 54 years old. He also was cremated.

His wife Rachel survived him, and since there is no death certificate for her in the Pennsylvania database that runs through 1963, she must have lived at least until 1964 (or moved out of Pennsylvania). I have yet to find a death record or an obituary for her.

Thus ended another line in the Nusbaum family. There are no living descendants of Myer and Rosalie Nusbaum and their children.

Arthur Nusbaum and His Family: Heartbreaking

Posted on March 23, 2015 by Amy

In my last post about the family of Ernst Nusbaum, I brought his family up to 1900 and the beginning of the 20^th century. The family had lost both Ernst and his son Myer in 1894, but the family had survived these tragedies and continued their lives. The early years of the 20^th century also had their challenges. For the family of Ernst and Clarissa’s oldest child, Arthur Nusbaum and his wife Henrietta Hilbronner, the first three decades of the 20^th century brought far too many premature deaths. Arthur was my first cousin, four times removed, the nephew of my three-times great-grandfather, John Nusbaum.

Arthur was the second of Ernst and Clarissa’s children to die, fourteen years after his brother Myer took his own life. Arthur died on August 15, 1909, of phthisis pulmonalis, a form of tuberculosis that causes wasting of the body. He was only 52 years old when he died and was buried at Mt. Sinai cemetery. Tuberculosis had taken another member of the extended Nusbaum family.

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

Just two months later, Arthur and Henrietta’s daughter Florence married Lewis Pierce Hoopes in New York City on October 19, 1909. It is interesting that Florence and Lewis were married in New York, as both were Pennsylvania natives. Lewis was born in Chester, Pennsylvania, a town about 20 miles south of Philadelphia, and the couple in fact resided in Chester with Lewis’ mother after the wedding and for many years afterwards. Lewis was the son of B. Tevis and Sara P. Hoopes, and in 1880, his father had owned a “furnishings” store, i.e., most likely a clothing store, in Chester. B. Tevis Hoopes died in 1894.

In 1900 Lewis’ mother, Sara P. Hoopes owned the “furnishings” store in Chester, and Lewis was working as a clerk in a bank. In 1910, Lewis is listed on the census as clerk in a notions store. In 1920 he and Florence were still living with Sara Hoopes, and Sara was listed as the owner of a dry goods store with her son Lewis listed as a clerk. On September 7, 1928, Lewis died from cerebral apoloxy; he was 56 years old. Four years later Florence died from cancer; she was 54. Florence and Lewis did not have any children. Thus, there are no direct descendants.

The second oldest of the children of Arthur and Henrietta, their son Sidney, married Emma Kleinsmith in 1903. Emma was also a Philadelphia native, born June 28, 1869. Emma and Sidney had a son Sidney, Jr., born March 31, 1904. The family was living at 3851 North Park Avenue in 1905, and Sidney was a salesman. In 1910, he listed his occupation as the manager of a department store, but later records including his World War I draft registration and the 1920 census list his occupation as a clothing salesman. In 1920, Sidney, Emma, and their son were living on Erie Avenue in Philadelphia.

Sidney, Sr., died three years later on January 16, 1923, from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head while “temporarily deranged,” according to his death certificate. Yet another family member had succumbed to suicide. Sidney was 42 years old.

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

His son, Sidney, Jr., was only nineteen years old at the time of his father’s death. He and his mother continued to live in the same residence on Erie Avenue in Philadelphia, and Sidney, Jr., was working as an electrician in 1930. Sidney, Jr., also died young; on August 12, 1932, he accidentally drowned while swimming near a dam in Greene, Pennsylvania; he was 28 years old.

How did his mother Emma cope? She had lost both her husband and her son to terrible deaths. Somehow she pulled herself together, and in 1940 she was still living on Erie Avenue, now the owner of a dress shop. Emma died on December 5, 1951, when she was 82 years old from a “ruptured heart.” How her heart held up for as long as it did after all she endured is a mystery to me. Emma, her husband Sidney, and her son Sidney, are all buried at East Cedar Hill cemetery in Philadelphia.

In 1909, not only did Florence Nusbaum marry Lewis Hoopes, Arthur and Henrietta’s third child Horace Nusbaum married Florence Crawford, the daughter of Jonathan Crawford, a widower from Scranton, Pennsylvania, where he was employed as a watchman. On April 5, 1910, Horace and Florence had a son, Arthur, obviously named in memory of Horace’s recently deceased father. Tragically, little Arthur died just three months later on July 5, 1910, from acute gastroenteritis and malnutrition. He was buried at Mt. Peace cemetery in Philadelphia.

Although Horace and his family (including the infant Arthur) were listed in the 1900 census as living in Philadelphia, sometime thereafter Horace and Florence relocated to Chester, where his sister Florence and her husband Lewis Hoopes were also living. On the 1910 census, Horace had listed his occupation as a solicitor for the electric company, and I had not known what that meant, but this article from the Delaware County Times from Chester, dated April 25, 1913, provided a clear picture:

Horace M. Nusbaum, a special representative of the Beacon Light Company, has been in the borough several days securing contracts for the change in rates of the company. He reports meeting with great success, the plan being approved by nearly all the light consumers in the town, and as there are but a few left to sign the new contract he will soon complete his labors here.

(Delaware County Times, April 25, 1913, p. 9)

In addition, Horace took on a role as spokesperson, educator, and salesperson for the company, as this article reveals. I also found it interesting for what it reveals about the role that electricity was beginning to play in the homes of ordinary citizens by 1914:

Delaware County Times, February 28, 1914, p. 7

Although the first report seemed to indicate Horace was not yet living in the Chester area, there were a number of later news reports revealing that he and Florence had relocated to that area. A 1916 news item about their vacation described them as residents of Norwood, Pennsylvania, a town about five miles from Chester. (Delaware County Times, July 31, 1916, p. 3) A 1917 issue reports their attendance at a masquerade ball in Norwood. (Delaware County Times, November 6, 1917, p. 2)

On his World War I draft registration dated September 12, 1918, Horace listed his occupation as the commercial representative for the Delaware County Electric Company, and he and Florence were residing in Norwood.

Registration State: Pennsylvania; Registration County: Delaware; Roll: 1877947; Draft Board:

Just a few weeks later, his wife Florence would die during the Spanish flu epidemic on October 5, 1918, when she was only thirty years old. The number of death notices listing pneumonia or influenza as the cause of death in the week Florence died was staggering.

Horace had lost his infant son and then his wife in the space of eight years. But like his sister-in-law Emma, Horace survived, and a year later he married again, marrying Edna M. Ephlin in 1919. Edna was the daughter of Oscar and Julia Ephlin of Philadelphia; her father was a shipping clerk for a paper company. After they married, in 1920 Horace and Edna lived at 1935 Park Avenue in Philadelphia with Horace’s mother Henrietta and his sister Clair as well as his youngest sister Helen and her husband William Stroup. Horace continued to work as a salesman for the electric company. He and Edna did not have any children.

Year: 1920; Census Place: Philadelphia Ward 32, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T625_1633; Page: 3A; Enumeration District: 1058; Image: 839

As for the remaining three children of Arthur and Henrietta Nusbaum, Stella (20) and Clair (17) were both living at home and working at a department store in 1910. The youngest child, Helen, now 15, was not employed. In 1914, Stella married Roy Service, born in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, to James and Ella Service. In 1920 Stella and Roy were living at 1229 Broad Street in Philadelphia, and Roy was a clerk. (In earlier and later city directories, Roy’s occupation was listed as a printer.) Stella and Roy never had children, and Stella died on January 27, 1929, from chronic myocarditis and multiple sclerosis. She was 39 years old.

In 1920, Stella’s younger sister Clair was living with her mother Henrietta as well as her brother Horace and his wife Edna and her sister Helen and her husband William Stroup. Clair, her mother, and her sisters had no occupations. Only the two men were working outside the home, Horace as a salesman for the electric company and William as an advertising salesman for a newspaper. (See the snip from the 1920 census above.)

In 1930, Clair, her widowed sister Florence Hoopes, and her mother Henrietta were all living together at 774 Spruce Street; only Clair was employed, working as a hairdresser.

Year: 1930; Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: 2139; Page: 35B; Enumeration District: 0498; Image: 1020.0; FHL microfilm: 2341873

[Notice how Clair’s surname is spelled—would you think that says Nusbaum? It’s a miracle that I found this census report.]

Helen, the youngest of Arthur and Henrietta’s children, had only been fourteen when her father died in 1909. Helen married William Valentine Stroup, Jr., in 1919. William was a native Philadelphian and an advertising salesman. In 1920, as noted above Helen and William were living with her mother Henrietta, her sister Clair, her brother Horace, and Horace’s second wife Edna. In 1930, Helen and William were living at 4741 13^th Street; Helen’s mother Henrietta is also listed with them, though she was also listed in 1930 as living with her other two daughters Clair and Florence on Spruce Street.

Year: 1930; Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: 2135; Page: 4B; Enumeration District: 1073; Image: 1005.0; FHL microfilm: 2341869

Thus, as of 1932, Arthur Nusbaum’s wife Henrietta had lost her husband and three of her six children: Florence, Sidney, and Stella. She had also lost her only two grandchildren: Arthur H. Nusbaum, Horace’s son, and Sidney Nusbaum, Jr., Sidney’s son. Florence and Stella had not had any children, nor did Clair or Helen, so there are no possible living descendants of Arthur Nusbaum and Henrietta Hilbronner.

Henrietta died on August 24, 1935. She was seventy years old and died of heart disease and kidney disease. She was buried with her husband Arthur at Mt. Sinai cemetery.

Her surviving children were Horace, Clair, and Helen. In 1940, Horace and his second wife Edna were living in Upper Darby, where Horace worked as an insecticide salesman. Edna sold women’s clothing. Edna died six years later from heart failure. She was only fifty-five years old. Horace lived until January 23, 1962 (I have not yet located a death record for him, but found his burial entry on FindAGrave) and is buried with Edna at Arlington Cemetery in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania.

The two youngest sisters, Clair and Helen, were living together in 1940. Helen was divorced from William Stroup and working in lingerie sales (if I am reading the census correctly), and Clair was single and continuing to work as a hairdresser.

Year: 1940; Census Place: Philadelphia, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T627_3753; Page: 6A; Enumeration District: 51-2148

The last record I have for either of them is a listing for Clair in the 1950 Philadelphia telephone directory. I cannot find a death record or obituary or burial record for them, but I assume that they both survived past 1963, the last year of death certificates now publicly available. I am continuing to see if I can find some other record for Clair and Helen as well as their brother Horace.

Thus, the history of the family of Arthur Nusbaum is a rather heart-breaking one, filled with premature deaths and no descendants to carry on the family name. Fortunately, some of the other children of Ernst and Clarissa have happier stories and more enduring family lines, though not all.

Two Tragedies in 1894 for the Family of Ernst Nusbaum

Posted on March 13, 2015 by Amy

If the 1880s were years of general growth and prosperity for Ernst Nusbaum and his family, the 1890s were years of loss. Once again, the Nusbaum/Dreyfuss family lost a young member of the family to suicide.

On January 18, 1894, Myer Nusbaum, 41 years old and the father of two young teenagers, took his own life.

Philadelphia Inquirer, January 19, 1894, p. 1

The Philadelphia Times also reported on this tragic death here: Myer_Nusbaum_Suicide_Philadelphia_Times_p_4_1_19_1894

Here was a man of a steady and upstanding reputation, a bookkeeper for a clothing company who had been employed in one place for over twenty years, a man who was well-liked and active in his community, a man with a wife and two teenaged children. What was this “grip” that caused him so much pain that he felt he had no alternative but to end his life?

From what I can gather from various sources on line, the grip was a term for what we would today call influenza or the flu. I’ve had the flu. Probably all of you have had the flu at some time or another. It’s awful. You feel terrible. Your head hurts, your body aches, you have respiratory symptoms, sometimes stomach symptoms. It can last for many days. But most people don’t become suicidal.

Although the headline on the Philadelphia Times story about Myer says, “Another Grip Tragedy,” I would imagine that even back in the 1890s, most people did not intentionally end their lives while suffering from the flu. Somehow I have to believe that Myer’s illness was something more than influenza, but it just was not diagnosed. The Inquirer story says he had been suffering for seven weeks; I have never heard of the flu lasting that long, but maybe it did back then. He must have been suffering terribly to have been driven to such an extreme. Imagine his poor fifteen year old son Jacob, watching his father die in his arms, and his wife Rosalie and sixteen year old daughter Corinne having to identify his body at the hospital.

UPDATE: My cousin Jessica, an expert in disease and disaster control, sent me a link to an article about the flu pandemic of the 1890s, the so-called Russian flu. It included this quote: “Influenza was also considered to be a major cause of nervous and psychological disorders by acting as a “devitalizing agent.” Descriptions of influenza sequelae included “depression,” “shattered nerves,” “neurasthenia,” and “despondency.” During 1890, for example, an unprecedented 140 melancholics afflicted with influenza “poison” were admitted to Scotland’s Royal Edinburgh Asylum. Coroners also cited influenza as a reason for “temporary insanity” in cases of suicide. Across Europe, rates of suicide (mostly male) and attempted suicide (mostly female) rose during the 1890s. In England and Wales, there was a 25 percent increase in suicides between 1889 and 1893. Paris witnessed a 23 percent rise during 1889–1890 compared with the average, and there were also increased rates in Germany and Switzerland.” Thus, Myer Nusbaum was not alone in suffering severe depression as a result of the flu. You can read more about the Russian flu here.

“Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/JK96-L2H : accessed 11 March 2015), Myer Nusbaum, 18 Jan 1894; citing 15562, Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; FHL microfilm 1,871,367.

1894 ended as tragically as it began. Almost eleven months to the day after Myer died, on December 16, 1894, his father Ernst died from injuries sustained in a fall. Ernst was 78 years old; the last of the Nusbaum siblings in America was gone. And not from disease or old age, but from an accidental fall. Somehow that just seems unfair; he had been able to adjust to life in America, had been a successful businessperson, had bounced back from bankruptcy and the Depression of the 1870s, and had raised six children with his wife Clarissa, and his life had ended because of a fall.

Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/VKDH-3ZJ : accessed 11 March 2015), Ernst Nusbaum, 16 Dec 1894; citing page 284 certificate # 11892, Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; FHL microfilm 1,011,822.

As for the rest of the family, Arthur Nusbaum and his wife Henrietta had two more children in the 1890s: Clare, born in 1894, and Helen, born in 1895. There were now six children in the family, and they were living at 2559 North 16^th Street. Arthur was involved in clothing sales in the 1890s and as reported on the 1900 census. Their son Sidney, now 21, was also a clothing salesman, and Horace, who was 15, was working as an upholsterer.

Fanny Nusbaum and her husband Jacob Hano continued to live in New York City in the 1890s. Fanny and Jacob had five sons (Samuel having died in 1884), all still at home during that decade and in 1900. In 1891, they were living at 119 East 111^th Street in East Harlem, and Jacob was a printer and book manufacturer. In 1892 they were living at 948 Fleetwood Avenue, which I cannot locate in New York City today, but by 1898 they were living at 803 Edgecombe Avenue, even further uptown, near 171^st Street on what is now Amsterdam Avenue. On the 1900 census, the family is living at 203 West 134^th Street, and the oldest son, Louis, now 22, was employed as a salesman. The other four were still at home. There was also a servant living in the home.

Edgar Nusbaum and his wife Viola continued to live 2029 North 11^th Street in Philadelphia in the early 1890s, and Edgar was working as a clerk. By 1897, however, the family had moved to 1520 North 12^th Street, and Edgar was working as a publisher like his brother-in-law Jacob Hano. On the 1900 census, however, Edgar listed his occupation as clerk once again. Their daughter Selena, now 19, was working as a dressmaker. Viola’s sister and a boarder were also living with them.

Henrietta Nusbaum and her husband Frank Newhouse had been living with Ernst and Clarissa, her parents, in 1890 at 2028 Mt. Vernon Street, and Frank was working as a tailor. They were still living at that address as of the 1900 census with Clarissa, now a widow, and Frank’s occupation was a traveling salesman. Neither Clarissa nor Henrietta were working outside the home, and there were two domestic servants living with them.

Frank Nusbaum and his wife Dolly and their daughter Loraine were living at 811 Windsor Square in 1891. By 1896, Frank was selling insurance, and they were living at 637 North 33^rd Street; a year later they were living at 3223 Wallace Street. In 1900, the family was living at yet another location, 3206 Manton Avenue, and Frank was still an insurance broker.

As for the widow of Myer Nusbaum, Rosalie Aub Nusbaum, she and their children Corinne and Jacob (called Jack on the 1900 census) were living at 5020 Cedar Street in 1900. Jack was working as a salesman, now almost 21 years old, and his mother and sister were at home. There was also a boarder living with them as well as one domestic servant.

Thus, somehow the family survived the two tragedies of 1894 and entered the 20^th century, all but Fanny still living in Philadelphia, all still working and living their lives.

A Decade of Heartache for Caroline’s Family

Posted on February 12, 2015 by Amy

The 19^th century ended badly for the extended family of Caroline Dreyfuss and Moses Wiler. Their daughter Eliza Wiler Simon died in August 1897, and their son-in-law Daniel Meyers, Clara’s husband, died in 1902, following several years of financial distress and legal problems. Unfortunately, it only got worse as the 20^th century began.

First, on April 23, 1901, Flora Simon’s husband Nathan Strouse died from myasthenia gravis. He was 24 years older than Flora, but only 58 years old when he died. Their son Lester was only thirteen years old when he lost his father. I found it rather interesting that Nathan’s occupation on the death certificate was given as “gentleman.”

“Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/JDLH-SJ1 : accessed 11 February 2015), Nathan Strouse, 23 Apr 1901; citing cn 22852, Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; FHL microfilm 1,845,290.

Two years later Flora married Alfred C. Heulings, a New Jersey lawyer who, in contrast to her first husband, was almost twelve years younger than Flora.

Then in 1904, there was another disaster for the family. Minnie Simon, the younger daughter of Eliza Wiler and Leman Simon, committed suicide. Her death certificate stated that she took her life “by inhaling gas while temporarily insane.”

“Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/JDGP-4DQ : accessed 11 February 2015), Minnie Simon, 05 Aug 1904; citing cn 19898, Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; FHL microfilm 1,004,045.

Apparently her death created some controversy based on this news article from the Philadelphia Inquirer, August 9, 1904, covering the coroner’s inquest:

Paper: Philadelphia Inquirer (Philadelphia, PA) Volume: 151 Issue: 40 Page: 5 August 9, 1904

From Joseph’s description of his sister’s personality, today she might have been diagnosed and treated for bipolar disease or depression. But in 1904 that was not possible, and so Minnie succumbed to mental illness and took her own life. She was only 26 years old.

Two years after losing his daughter Minnie and nine years after losing his wife Eliza, Leman Simon passed away on October 13, 1906, from a cerebral hemorrhage. He was 72 years old.

“Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/JK98-3Q6 : accessed 11 February 2015), Leman Simon, 13 Oct 1906; citing cn 25343, Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; FHL microfilm 1,319,469.

Thus, in the ten years between 1897 and 1906, the family lost five members: Eliza Wiler Simon, Nathan Strouse, Daniel Meyers, Minnie Simon, and Leman Simon. The Simon family in particular must have been quite devastated.

Not all was sad, however, in the first ten years of the 20^th century. Nellie Simon married Louis Boughen Loux on April 30, 1908. They were married in the Eleventh Street Methodist Episcopal Church in Philadelphia. Louis was 21, and Nellie was 33. Like her sister Flora’s second marriage, this was a marriage between a man and a significantly older woman, which must have been quite unusual in those days.

Thus, by 1910, the family had changed quite a bit. Leman and Eliza Simon were both gone, as was their daughter Minnie. Flora was living with her second husband Albert Heulings and her son Lester Strouse at 913 North 16^th Street. Albert was practicing law. Lester, who had graduated from the University of Pennsylvania in 1909, was now 21 and working in the advertising business for the Quaker City Publicity Company. There were also two servants in the household.

As for Flora’s siblings, I am once again having a terrible time finding them on the census. Nellie Simon and her husband Louis Loux had a child Florie born on March 3, 1910, in Philadelphia, but I only know this from Florie’s death certificate. I cannot find a birth record, nor can I find Nellie and Louis on the 1910 census. I found a Leon Simon listed in the 1908 Philadelphia directory at 541 Fernon Street, working as a bookkeeper, but he is not at that address on the 1910 census. Joseph Simon’s address in 1904 was 136 Farson Street in West Philadelphia, according to the news article about his sister Minnie’s death. But he is not at that address on the 1910 census. I have some possible listings for Joseph, but given how common his name was, I just am not certain.

As for the family of Clara Wiler Meyers, Clara in 1910 was a widow, still living at the long-time family home at 920 Franklin Street, with nine of her children. Her oldest son Leon Meyers (36 in 1910) had by 1902 become an optician and was still living at home as late as 1904. In 1910 he was living at 1628 North 13^th Street, according to the Philadelphia directory, yet he is not listed there on the 1910 census, nor is he listed on the census at 1904 Somerset Street, where he is listed as residing in the 1911 directory. I think Leon, like his Simon cousins, just eluded the census taker. His younger brother, Benjamin Franklin Meyers, 25 years old in 1910, was living as a boarder in Trenton, New Jersey, where he was working as a watch maker in a watch factory.

The other nine Meyers children were still living with their mother Clara. All were unmarried. Samuel (34) was like his brother Leon an optician. Harry (33) was a tailor. Isador (30) was a “commercial traveler” for a men’s clothing business. Max (28) was a draftsman for a machine works business. Clarence (24) was a cotton yarn salesman. Frank (22) was an optician like his two older brothers Leon and Samuel. The three youngest children Lottie (20), Miriam (17), and Milton (14) were all at home and not occupied.

Source Citation
Year: 1910; Census Place: Philadelphia Ward 20, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T624_1394; Page: 4B; Enumeration District: 0334; FHL microfilm: 1375407

I cannot imagine what this house looked like that accommodated all of those people. I’ve tried to locate a photograph, but have had no luck. Google Street View shows a modern apartment building at that address today.

Fanny Wiler Levy’s three sons were also still single and living with their father Joseph and stepmother Bella at home at 2122 Camac Street in 1910. Their father Joseph Levy was living on his “own income,” according to the 1910 census. Alfred, now 41, was a lumber salesman, and Leon (37) and Monroe (35) were clothing salesman. Their half-sister Miriam (27) was married to Arthur Hanff, a traveling shirt salesman.

Year: 1910; Census Place: Philadelphia Ward 32, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Roll: T624_1403; Page: 10B; Enumeration District: 0750; FHL microfilm: 1375416

Simon Wiler, the only son of Caroline Dreyfuss and Moses Wiler, was living in a large boarding house on Spruce Street in 1910. He was working as a salesman in a paper warehouse. Simon died the following year on October 23, 1911. He died from shock after a prostatectomy, according to the death certificate. Although the death certificate says he was residing at 1905 Diamond Street prior to his death, he is not listed there on the 1910 census. The informant on the certificate was A. Freed, the undertaker, who did not know the names of Simon’s parents, but given the name, the age, and the occupation, it seems reasonable to conclude that this was Simon, the son of Caroline and Moses. Like the other members of his family, he was buried at Mt. Sinai cemetery.

Thus, as of 1911, the only child of Caroline Dreyfuss and Moses Wiler who was still alive was Clara Wiler Meyers. Between 1897 and 1911, there had been many deaths, but only two weddings and only one birth. There were a number of adult cousins still living at home with their parents. The next ten years brought continued heartache and loss.

There Were No Survivors: A Tragic Ending to a Family with Plenty of Tragedy

Posted on January 28, 2015 by Amy

Some families seem to suffer more misfortune than others. This is one of those families. It is the story of the family of Mathilde Dreyfuss, sister of my three-times great-grandmother Jeanette, and her family. Her first husband was John Nusbaum’s brother Maxwell Nusbaum, making this particular line related to me both on my Dreyfuss side and my Nusbaum side. That is, Mathilde and Maxwell’s children are my double first cousins, four times removed.

As I have written, Maxwell Nusbaum and Mathilde Dreyfuss had two children, a daughter Flora born in 1848 and a son Albert born in 1851. Less than seven months after Albert’s birth, Maxwell died in the 1851 Great Fire in San Francisco. By 1856 Mathilde had married Moses Pollock, with whom she had three more children, Emanuel, Miriam, and Rosia. The family lived in Harrisburg for many years, but by 1866 had relocated to Philadelphia.

In the 1870s, the Pollocks were living in Philadelphia where Moses was a dry goods merchant. Their youngest child Rosia died in 1871 when she was just five months old.

Rosie Pollock daughter of Moses and Mathilde death cert 1871

Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/JK3P-DBS : accessed 22 January 2015), Rosie Pollock, 26 Feb 1871; citing 1075, Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; FHL microfilm 2,020,735.

Mathilde’s daughter Flora had married Samuel Simon, one of the three brothers to marry into the Nusbaum/Dreyfuss clan, and they had two children in the 1870s, Meyer (mostly likely named for his grandfather Maxwell) and Minnie. By 1880, Flora and Samuel had moved to Elkton, Maryland, where Samuel was running a hotel. Meanwhile, Moses and Mathilde (Dreyfuss Nusbaum) Pollock were still in Philadelphia, and the other surviving children—Albert Nusbaum and Emanuel and Miriam Pollock—were still living at home with them, according to the 1880 census. Moses was in the cloak business, Albert was in the liquor trade, and Emanuel was in the dry goods business. Moses’ line of trade seemed to change to trimmings or finishings during the 1880s and 1890s with various directories listing his businesses as plaiting, laces, embroidery, school bags, and accordion pleating.

Mathilde’s family was struck by tragedy again on September 1, 1885, when Miriam Pollock, just 26 years old, died from consumption or tuberculosis. Mathilde had lost her first husband to a fire, her daughter Rosia at five months, and then her daughter Miriam at 26. Sometimes life is just not fair.

“Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/JFSV-LHQ : accessed 22 January 2015), Miriam Pollock, 01 Sep 1885; citing , Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; FHL microfilm 2,070,682.

Then Moses Pollock died on December 5, 1894 of encephalomalacia, defined in Wikipedia as “localized softening of the brain substance, due to hemorrhage or inflammation.” Like so many other family members, he was buried at Mt. Sinai cemetery in Philadelphia. He was 69 years old.

“Pennsylvania, Philadelphia City Death Certificates, 1803-1915,” index and images, FamilySearch (https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/JKS4-32N : accessed 22 January 2015), Moses Pollock, 05 Dec 1894; citing cn 11116, Philadelphia City Archives and Historical Society of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia; FHL microfilm 1,872,200.

Both Albert Nusbaum and Emanuel Pollock had continued to live with their parents throughout the 1880s and 1890s, and in 1900, they and their mother were still living together at the same address, 934 North Eighth Street. Mathilde, now widowed twice in addition to losing two children, was working outside the house as a manufacturer of bags—presumably, the school bags listed as one of the items Moses was selling on the last directory entry before his death. Albert was still a liquor salesman, and Emanuel was selling bicycles. In addition, Meyer Simon, Flora’s son and Mathilde’s grandson, now 30 years old, was also living with them and was working with his grandmother in the bag manufacturing business as a manager.

Mathilde’s daughter Flora Nusbaum and her husband Samuel Simon, meanwhile, had left Elkton, Maryland, and moved to Baltimore by 1885. Samuel was in the liquor business, as was his brother Moses, who was married to Paulina Dinkelspiel, Flora’s first cousin.[2] My hunch is that they were business together.

In 1900, Samuel was still in the liquor business in Baltimore, but his brother Moses had died the year before. Samuel and Flora still had their daughter Minnie living at home with them, but their son Meyer, as noted above, was living in Philadelphia with his grandmother and uncles Albert and Emanuel and managing the bag manufacturing business.

Although Meyer Simon was listed as single on the 1900 census, the 1910 census reported him as married for 12 years. I figured that this must have been a mistake, especially since he was still living at his grandmother’s address even in the 1901 directory. It seemed he could not have been married for 12 years in 1910.

But then I found something strange. After some further research and review, I found in the Pennsylvania, Marriages 1709-1940 data base on familysearch.org a marriage between Meyer Simon and Tillie Perry on September 18, 1897, in Allegheny, Pennsylvania. Meyer’s wife’s name on the 1910 census was Matilda, so I knew this was the correct marriage. Matilda or Tillie Perry was the daughter of William and Matilda Perry; she was born in Philadelphia in 1876 and baptized in the Episcopal church in 1878. But if Meyer and Matilda were married in 1897, why was Meyer listed as single on the 1900 census, and where was Matilda?[3]

I found Matilda Perry on the 1900 census living with her parents in Philadelphia, and that census report stated that she was married and had been married for three years, which is consistent with the marriage record I found on familysearch. Had Meyer and Matilda married and then lived separately for at least three years? It seems strange, but perhaps they could not yet afford a place of their own. Or perhaps they were temporarily separated. Or perhaps the religious differences had made it difficult for those families to support the marriage. After all, Meyer listed his marital status as single. I suppose it is also possible that he had kept the marriage a secret from his family. After all, they were married in Allegheny, not in Philadelphia or in Baltimore where their families lived. Allegheny was a city across the river from Pittsburgh that merged with Pittsburgh in 1907. It would have been therefore over 300 miles from Philadelphia and about 250 miles from Baltimore.

https://www.google.com/maps/dir/Pittsburgh,+PA/Philadelphia,+PA/Baltimore,+MD/@39.8480662,-79.9346458,7z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m20!4m19!1m5!1m1!1s0x8834f16f48068503:0x8df915a15aa21b34!2m2!1d-79.9958864!2d40.4406248!1m5!1m1!1s0x89c6b7d8d4b54beb:0x89f514d88c3e58c1!2m2!1d-75.1652215!2d39.9525839!1m5!1m1!1s0x89c803aed6f483b7:0x44896a84223e758!2m2!1d-76.6121893!2d39.2903848!3e0

Thus, as of 1900, Mathilde Dreyfuss Nusbaum Pollock was a widow, living in Philadelphia with her two sons, Albert and Emanuel. Her daughter Flora was living with her husband Samuel Simon in Baltimore with their daughter Minnie, and their son Meyer was married, but not yet living with his wife Matilda.

The decade that followed must have been a very painful one. First, on March 21, 1904, Mathilde Pollock died. She was 79 years old. The death certificate says she died of old age, which shows you how perspectives on aging and longevity have changed. It also says that she died from “senile pneumonia,” a term for which I could find no easily understood definition for my non-medical brain to grasp, but which I gather is a form of pneumonia that affects the elderly. (Feel free to provide a more scientifically accurate definition.) The death certificate also says that Mathilde had ascites, another term not easily defined but which Wikipedia defines as “gastroenterological term for an accumulation of fluid in the peritoneal cavity.” Don’t even get me started on trying to understand where the peritoneal cavity is, but from what I read, ascites seems to have something to do with liver disease, often cirrhosis.

Mathilde’s death was followed three years later by the death of her son Emanuel Pollock on February 16, 1907. He was only fifty years old and died of tuberculosis. Three years after that his half-brother Albert Nusbaum died on August 28, 1910 from apoplexy brought on by arteriosclerosis. He was 59 years old. Mathilde and both of her sons were buried at Mt. Sinai cemetery.

That left only Flora Nusbaum Simon as the surviving child of Mathilde Dreyfuss Nusbaum Pollock. She had lost both of her parents and all four of her siblings. She was also the only child who had children of her own as none of her siblings ever married or had children. Flora and Samuel appear to have relocated from Baltimore to Philadelphia by 1905, the year after her mother died, as Samuel appears in the Philadelphia directory living at 2225 North 13^th Street, the same address where the family is listed in the 1910 and 1920 census reports.

Flora’s brother Albert had been living with them at that address in April when the 1910 census was taken, just four months before he died. Neither Samuel nor Albert nor anyone else in the household was employed at that time, yet they still had a servant living in the home. Minnie, Flora and Samuel’s daughter, was 27 and single, living with her parents and uncle. It feels like it must have been a very sad time for the family.

Flora and Samuel’s son Meyer and his wife Matilda were living about two miles away at 2200 Susquehanna Avenue in 1910. Meyer was a clothing salesman. There were two boarders living with them, but no children. When Meyer registered for the World War I draft in 1917, he and Matilda were living at 3904 North Marshall Street, two and a half miles north of his parents and his sister. Meyer was employed as a clothing salesman for Harry C. Kahn and Son, according to his draft registration.

On February 18, 1919, Flora Nusbaum Simon suffered yet another loss when her husband Samuel Simon died from a cerebral hemorrhage at age 79. She and her daughter Minnie were living together in 1920 at their home at 2225 North 13^th Street. Flora herself died almost four years to the day after her husband Samuel on February 20, 1923. She was 74 years old and died from chronic interstitial nephritis. She had outlived all of her siblings by over 13 years. She, like all the rest of them, was buried at Mt. Sinai cemetery with her husband Samuel.

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

After her mother Flora died, Minnie Simon lived with her brother Meyer and his wife Matilda in the house on North 13^th Street where Flora had died, number 2336, across the street from where they had lived for many years at 2225. Meyer was employed as a clothing salesman, and his niece Matilda (a fifth Matilda in his life) was also living with them. Meyer lost his sister Minnie six years later when she died from liver cancer on December 14, 1936; she was 63 years old.

Meyer was the only member of his family left. He had no siblings, no nieces or nephews on his side. It must have been just too much for him when his wife Matilda then died on April 27, 1940, at age 63 from cerebral thrombosis and chronic nephritis. Two years later on June 2, 1942, Meyer took his own life. He was found on the second floor of his home at 2336 North 13^th Street with a gunshot wound to his head. He had no survivors. Although Meyer was buried with his family at Mt. Sinai, he was not buried with his wife Matilda. She was buried at a non-denominational cemetery instead (Northwood); because she was not Jewish, she could not be buried at Mt. Sinai. How sad.

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

Meyer Simon death cert coroner's inquest

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

This story fills me with such sadness. How lonely Meyer must have been. He’d lost his grandparents, his parents, his aunts and uncles, his sister, and his wife. And there were no children or nieces or nephews left to comfort him. Certainly there were other Nusbaum cousins nearby in Philadelphia, but it must not have been enough.

From the start of the story of the life of Meyer’s grandmother Mathilde Dreyfuss, this family suffered such tragedy: Maxwell’s death in the Great Fire of San Francisco and two daughters who died young. Of Mathilde’s four children who grew to adulthood, only Flora married and had children, and there were no grandchildren to carry on the family line after Flora and Samuel Simon and their two children Meyer and Minnie died. There are no living descendants of Mathilde Dreyfuss or Maxwell Nusbaum. No one likely remembers their names. Except now they have been found and can be remembered for the tough lives they lived and for the courage and hope they must have had when they arrived in Pennsylvania in the middle of the 1800s.

[1] Isaac died without any children in 1870, so unfortunately that was the end of that sibling’s line.

[2] Flora’s father Maxwell Nusbaum was the brother of Paulina Dinkelspiel’s mother, Mathilde Nusbaum Dinkelspiel.

[3] Poor Meyer had at least four Mathilde/Matildas in his life: his mother, his wife, his mother-in-law, and one of his aunts. And today I don’t know one woman named Mathilde or Matilda or Tillie.

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