Hanging Out My Shingle

After spending several years raising my five beautiful children, I've decided to step back into the professional arena and re-start my genealogy business. And lest you think that I haven't done genealogy in years, I assure you, it's been the main cause of unfolded laundry and "cereal-for-dinner" nights in our household.

I've worked on several projects over the years for family and friends, pro bono, because it's kept me sharp and given me experience outside of my own family tree.  I've enjoyed learning about fascinating people from all over the United States and various countries (British Isles and Romania, most recently).  One of my favorite projects of all time involved a young rogue who changed his name and made and lost fortunes - and families - moving on to the next adventure, leaving his family thinking he had died.  The piecing together hung on his naming one of his son's a very unique name - which happened to be the name of his younger brother back east. He deserves an entire post (if not book) about his life and shenanigans. 

I've also had the opportunity to do a few transcription projects.  One involved a beautiful letter box of a young woman, handed down through the generations, with remarkably preserved letters written to her from would-be sweethearts, family and friends.  Another project came about as I "met" a new relative on-line, and she mentioned that she had a cassette tape from the 1980's of an amazing and spunky aunt who lived over a century, that immigrated from Romania as a girl. Hearing her talk about her life story, from a child in Romania, to a young girl working in a textile factory in Los Angeles, to losing her husband to the 1918 flu epidemic, to owning her own grocery store and raising her three daughters, was one of the most priceless experiences I've ever had. 

I love researching and discovering people in history.  I love old letters and recorded memories and journals and newspapers, too - they flesh out the skeleton of the pedigree chart and bring people from black and white back into rich color (it amazes me how human nature hasn't changed much over the years.)  I'm excited to use my knowledge and experience and intuition, doing something I love, to help others discover their family.

Treasure Chest Thursday - Relatives With Dusty Photo Albums and Wonderful Memories

My husband's cousin, Tammy, and I have been working on their side's Fond family genealogy.  Mordechai Herscovici married Sarah Schwartz about 1873 in Moinesti, Bacau, Romania.  He was 18, she was 15.  Soon after, they found they were expecting their first child.  Mordechai also learned that he would be required to serve in the Romanian army, and knew they didn't treat Jewish soldiers very well.  A friend told him that he would take care of it for $25.  He obtained papers that said that Mordechai, now Marco Fond, was a foreigner to Romania, and he escaped military service.  He and Sarah had twelve children:  Elka, Chaim, Mindel, Harry (who died young), Tidia (who also died young), Mary, Clara, Sadie, Mollie, Manus, Celia, and Lottie.

Marco and Sarah and their family immigrated a few at a time from 1903 to 1906 from Moinesti, Romania.  Sadie and Clara came first, with Uncle Zeidel Binder Fond and his family.  Then Chaim, their brother, came, followed by their Marco, and sister, Mary.  Sarah started several months later with the younger children:  Mollie (our great grandmother), Manus, Celia, and Lottie, and Chaim's wife, Eva, along with a few friends.  Mindel stayed behind with her husband, Sol Snyder (unsure on the last name - family source) because Sol was very religious and didn't think he'd be able to live a kosher lifestyle in America.  They had one son at the time.

While passing through Germany on the train, Mollie was severely burned when the train jerked and she was splashed or fell into the percolator used to heat up coffee.  The train had to be stopped, Mollie was taken to a hospital, and Sarah was told that the group couldn't wait anymore and she would have to leave her child behind to recuperate alone, or stay with her and find some way to support herself and all of the children in a country that she didn't understand the language, and make her own way to America, eventually.  She had no choice and had to leave Mollie behind, begging that they would send her as soon as she was well enough to travel. 

Sarah arrived in New York with the children on 31 July 1904.  Mollie arrived 14 August 1904, but was detained 10 days because she didn't have enough to finish paying the fare.  She eventually made it to Los Angeles, her mother beside herself the entire time, and was finally reunited with her family.  She had scars on her neck and chest from the burns for the rest of her life.

Mollie worked as a seamstress in Los Angeles, and a young man named Jack Shapiro worked as a supervisor there.  Mollie made beautiful handmade button holes, and Jack admired her work and wanted to get to know this girl better.  They married on 25 January 1914 in Los Angeles. They moved a few years later to Salt Lake City where they went into a partnership with two other brothers-in-law, Sam Bercovitz and Ben Berkouf, in a grocery store.  When brother-in-law, Sam Bercovitz, died of the Spanish flu in 1918, Jack and Ben took his wife, Sadie (Mollie's sister), on as a partner in the grocery store, Sadie moved in with Jack and Mollie, and Mollie cared for her three daughters while she worked.

Tammy and I recently visited with Mollie and Jack's oldest daughter, Marion, along with Judy and Floyd, her daughter and son-in-law.  They had several photo albums, put together by their niece, with notes on the backs of most of the photos saying who was who.  These wonderful and generous people allowed us to carefully lift each photo out, scan it, and replace it.  They had no idea what was in the books, and we found the most amazing treasures. Several times I couldn't see well enough to work, from the tears in my eyes.  In addition to beautiful old pictures, Marion is sharp as a tack at the age of 95 and had many stories to tell.  If we showed her a picture, she could immediately tell us the occasion and who was pictured. 

Marco and Sarah Schwartz Fond, 1890's

Mollie Fond, age 21

Mollie Fond, age 23

Jack Shapiro, 1918

Jack and Mollie on their honeymoon in Tijuana

Mollie's sister, Mindel, and her husband Sol Snyder? Mindel and Sol stayed in Romania, survived World War II, and Sadie and Clara sent them enough money so they could emigrate to Israel.  They lost contact with them.  This picture is a treasure!

Tombstone Tuesday - Eugene Victor Rhinehart

Do you see that handsome man up in the corner of the page?  That's my grandfather, Eugene Victor Rhinehart.  I met him once when I was a tiny infant, and I'm told he held me in his arms, but I never saw him again, and yet, he's one of my favorite people to have ever walked this green earth.  It's funny how learning about someone you've never met can make you feel so close to them.  I believe in a hereafter, and I'm so excited to sit down and talk to this wonderful man.

He had his problems in life - he battled alcoholism - but everyone loved him. I think he just loved the people in his life dearly.  He was born June 22, 1920 in Cambridge, Guernsey, Ohio, and died January 21, 1980 in Newark, Licking, Ohio.  He was part of the Civilian Conservation Corps, sent from Ohio to Vernal, Utah, where he met my beautiful grandmother, and where he learned his trade.  During World War II, he served in the 1st Special Construction Battalion (Seabees) in Guadal Canal.  He was a gifted machine operator and worked in construction all of his life.

Thankful Thursday - Collaboration

Today I'm feeling very thankful for the many resources that allow me to collaborate with other genealogists.  I've had the amazing opportunity, in the last couple of weeks, to connect with distant relations, either of myself or my husband, that have been extremely generous and helpful in furthering my research.  I hope I've been helpful to them, as well.

One amazing woman, who I found on Jewishgen.org, compared notes with me - she'd kept up with the family, and had much more information than I did - and it turned out that she had a tape from 1985 from a wonderful 95-year-old aunt, who talked about her immigration experience, life in Romania, and all of her siblings and their descendants, as well as both humorous and  heart-wrenching stories from her life.  I don't have permission to post it, so you'll just have to feel jealous and take my word for it.  She asked me if I knew of any services out there to get it transferred to CD, and it turned out I had a cousin that had the equipment.  She sent me the tape, we transferred it, and I had the completely enjoyable experience of transcribing it. 

Said newly found relative also sent me pictures in the mail, one of which is of the family, right before they were separated forever from a daughter who stayed behind in Romania with her husband, the parents and the rest of the siblings emigrating to America.  I cried as I found that picture in the package - tracing the sad faces of people that now had faces to names. 

Another relative I found on Ancestry.com, related by marriage, didn't have very much information to share, but I was able to send her everything I had for her niece, who she's been doing the research for.  It so happens that she's traveling to Salt Lake for a genealogy research trip and we're doing lunch! 

I've found family on Rootsweb boards, Geni.com (haven't used a lot yet, but I've had people nth cousins, thrice removed contact me), along with just reconnecting with family that I haven't talked to for a while. 

There's nothing like feeling like you're the only descendant from a somewhat obscure couple and finding a cousin that is as passionate and loves family history as much as you do.  I'm so thankful that technology has advanced to the point that, at the click of a mouse, I can connect to people and share and be shared with.  It has me singing Kip Dynamite's famous love song, "I Love Technology."

Family Recipe Friday - Romanian (or Jewish) Apple Cake

I found a recipe for Romanian Apple Cake on allrecipes.com, but my husband's family has made a "Jewish Apple Cake" for years, and I thought it was cool that their Romanian heritage has a little to do with it.

Jewish Apple Cake  

Preheat oven to 350*.

Mix & put aside:

3 apples sliced and peeled

2 t. cinnamon

¼ c. sugar

In large mixing bowl combine all in order:

4 eggs                       1 T. baking powder

2 ¼ c. sugar              2 ½ t. vanilla

1 c. oil                       3 c. flour

¼ t. salt                     7 T. OJ

In a well-greased bundt cake pan, alternate cake mix with apples, begin and ending with batter.  Keep apples from touching sides of pan. Bake for 1 ¼ - 1 ½ hours. Let cool for 10 min. or longer and invert onto serving plate.

Follow the link here for the allrecipes version.

Sentimental Sunday - Scentimental Suitcase

My grandma, the one I brag about all the time on this blog, has infused my children (and my siblings and I) with a wonder and love of the outdoors, science, birds, rocks, learning, reading, etc.  When the kids find an interesting rock or see a new bird they haven't seen before, they can't wait to tell Grandma P. about it.  When she had triple bypass surgery when my oldest was about 7 years old, he took two little home-grown crystals from a science kit to the hospital, for her to look at and to keep her company.  She still displays them proudly on her end table of "specials." 

Several months ago, I took the kids to visit her and she recruited them to help her lug two very old-timey (and very heavy!) suitcases out of her storage closet.  She popped them open, and to their wonder and delight, they were full of beautiful specimens of rocks that she and Grandpa P. had collected on their many forays out into the deserts of Utah.  At 90 years old, she could remember several of the rocks, where they found them, even telling interesting stories about their discovery.  She knew what each specimen was and let the kids pick out as many as they wanted.  In the end, both suitcases ended up in the back of my minivan, with kids squabbling over who got what. 

One of my sons, who has been collecting rocks since he was a tiny boy and who idolizes his grandma, has a veritable rock museum in his room, with all sorts of interesting and unique rocks and minerals.  He ended up with most of the collection, and put the empty suitcase in the garage.  I cleaned the garage for several hours yesterday and found the suitcase.  It's pretty trashed, and my first thought was to throw it away or send it to the local thrift store.  I opened it to make sure there was nothing left inside, and the smell of my grandma's house hit me so hard I started to cry.  After holding it and sniffing it for a few minutes (it's a lovely smell!), I closed it back up and put it in a safe place in the garage.  Needless to say, I won't be getting rid of the suitcase. 

I think it's interesting how smells can take you back so sharply and suddenly to a memory you hadn't even remembered you'd forgotten.  My mom wore a particular brand of blush that had a scent to it when I was little, that I loved.  She also wore Jovan Musk. Both of those scents take me back to a little-girl-cuddle, nuzzling my face against hers. My dad wore Russian Leather cologne.  He asked for some a couple Christmases ago, and I managed to find some.  As soon as I smelled it I was back on a weekend visit, riding on his shoulders at the park.  My mom's house has a specific smell, and every time we get a package from her the kids love to sniff at it.  "It smells like Grandma's house!" Scents have a very nostalgic element to them.

Apology...

I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while.  We've been wrapping up school - public and homeschool, dealing with five sick kids, my daughter's baptism with 70 guests!, and now that that's all over, I'm trying to reclaim my house and yard from lots of neglect.  I'm hitting some big projects so I can settle down to my favorite things without the guilt of weeds going to seed or a garage with half-unpacked boxes from our move three years ago.  I promise to get back to this blog soon, but I need to take care of the living before I can focus on the dead.  Even though I often get along much better with the dead people.  Only a genealogist would take that the un-creepy way.  :)