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The Sentinel was a weekly magazine published for the Chicago Jewish community from 1918 to 1949. It has now been digitized and put online (http://www.idaillinois.org/cdm/landingpage/collection/p16614coll14). This record set has been valuable for all of my personal and professional research about families who lived in the Windy City.

Today I want to highlight death notices that I found for my grandmother’s sister (Bertha Peckler) in 1938 and for her brother (Matt Peckler) in 1942.

Death notice for Bertha Peckler, The Sentinel, 16 June 1938. Source: Spertus Institute

This notice appeared on page 29 of the June 16, 1938 edition. The notice was brief, but even so, the obit reporter managed to make a mistake. Bertha was Nathan (aka Naftula aka Anatole) Peckler’s daughter, not his sister (although it was true that Matthew A Peckler was her brother). I already knew that Bertha had died in 1938 based on oral history interviews I had done with my mother and uncle. This mistake on the part of the journalist reinforces the importance of not trusting everything that you read.

This notice is particularly important genealogically, because other than a picture of her headstone, and her appearance in the 1930 US Census, I had no documents or pictures pertaining to her at all. Luckily, Bertha’s headstone includes a picture of her, although it has been damaged by weather over time.

Bertha’s brother, known as Matt, died in 1942 from diabetes. I already knew that based on oral history interviews. Unlike Bertha’s meager paper trail, Matt’s trail was substantial: I had several pictures and documents.

But this death notice is still genealogically significant because it mentions his wife (the spelling of her name made me laugh, as we usually see it as Manya, not a form of mental illness) and daughters (whose names I knew), and the place of burial, which I didn’t know. 

Death notice for Matt Peckler, The Sentinel, 26 Nov 1942. Source: Spertus Institute

Just a note for genealogists who research in The Sentinel. Be sure to download the cover page of each issue so you have the publication information for the source citation. The header of subsequent pages includes the date, but not the volume and issue numbers.

Today is Throwback Thursday, a prompt provided by my sister, whose Facebook friends post a picture from their pasts and describe it every Thursday. I will do the same, trying to extract every piece of information I can about the sitters for this portrait, which is from our family collection. In a long ago life, I was a costumer, so my analysis will emphasize what they are wearing, and what it reveals about them.

The picture was taken in Zhitomir, in a studio with a painted backdrop showing a forest scene. My grandma, Tanya Peckler, is seated on the left, with her sister Raya standing next to her.

At that time, people having their pictures taken had to stay still for a very long exposure. That’s why most people are not smiling – they are concentrating on not moving. If you look closely, however, there is a shadow of a smile on Raya’s face. Both girls have their hair parted in the center and drawn back from their faces. Since earlier pictures show that both young women have wavy hair, I suspect they each applied a lot of pomade to straighten it.

They are both wearing identical outfits, with high waists, and hems several inches above the ankles. Although they look like dresses, they may be separate skirts and blouses (or shirtwaists, as they were known then). At first I thought they were school uniforms – but my grandma and her sisters were taught at home. The bodice of the dresses is a middy style (ie, it has a separate shoulder yoke) and has eyelet inserts at the shoulders and the sleeves. This ornamentation also argues against the dresses being uniforms. Both dresses are made with what appears to be a high quality fabric with a metallic stripe woven through it. The bodices have the stripes running horizontally, while the skirts have the stripes running vertically. The skirts are top-stitched at the hem and about 3 inches above the hem. Top stitching is a sign of a high quality item, and the top stitching was very event, indicating that it was done by machine. The Peckler family was solidly middle class, so I suspect the dresses were made for them (there was very little off-the-rack clothing available at this time). But it is also possible that my great-grandmother, Eugenia, made them herself – after all, her husband sold Singer sewing machines.

Tanya’s skirt appears slightly narrower at the hem than at the hip, a so-called “hobbled” skirt. But Raya’s skirt bells out slightly from the hips, so the “hobble” may be an artifact of Tanya’s pose. This high-waisted, “hobbled” style of skirt was popular in the early nineteen-teens.  Given the girls’ unlined faces, the fact that Tanya already has a womanly figure, and the dress style and hem length, I estimate that this picture was taken about 1913, when Tanya was 17, and Raya 15.

Grandma has her right hand held behind her, the other hand draped against the curved bench on which she sits. Her left foot is hooked behind her right. Perhaps she was posed that way to show off her shoe, a heeled version with a strap across the instep. Raya is holding a book in both hands. Was she the intellectual one of these two sisters? Most likely, it was simply a prop provided by the photographer to make a pleasing composition. The spine and cover of the book appear to be embossed but it is impossible to read the title.

I look for a resemblance between my grandmother and me, but I don’t see one. She looks a little bit more like my sister Laurie did in her youth. But I definitely inherited her fashion sense — except that I never wear horizontal stripes!

Photo credit: Peter Bellis/Flickr

Today is Welcome Wednesday. This prompt inspires me to write about my ancestors’ arrival in the United States. My grandma Tanya’s brother Alexander (aka Sasha) Peckler was the first member of the family to come to America.

Sasha left Zhitomir (which is now in Ukraine, but was then the Russian Empire) in 1910, when he was 22. He traveled under the name of Schaje Pekler in steerage class on the SS Hannover, which left Bremen on September 22  and arrived in Philadelphia on Oct 5 1910. His marital status is listed as single. But he did not travel alone.

Listed right after him in the passenger list were three young women: Lise Gorlowsky, Malke Gorlowsky, and Rebecca Gorlowsky – all of them single and of marriageable age (24, 17, and 20). Ditto marks in certain columns indicate that the 3 sisters traveled with Sasha.

It was scandalous for a single woman to travel with a single man – especially on a journey that would take 2 weeks to cross the Atlantic. The Victorian era had only ended in 1901, and most of its strict moral standards trickled over to the Edwardian era.

How could this have happened? Perhaps the fact that Sasha was a teacher meant that he was so well respected that he could act as a travel companion, even though he was 2 years younger than Lise.

I know from personal memory that Sasha married Lise (plus I have a copy of their marriage certificate). I suspect that Sasha was already engaged to Lise at the time they emigrated from Russia. Under those circumstances, especially since she had two sisters with her who could act as chaperones, it might have been considered socially acceptable.

But there is an even better explanation. There is a column on the passenger list in which the nearest relative who remained in the passenger’s home town is listed. Sasha listed his father, Naftula Pekler. The three women indicated Naftula as that person also, and that he was their uncle; thus, Sasha would have been their cousin, and therefore a suitable travel companion. As far as I know, the Gorlowskys and Peklers were not related. So this little white lie was likely how the sisters protected themselves from being perceived as behaving improperly.

Interestingly, there are marginal notes that record the naturalization certificate numbers that were later issued for Sasha, Malke (who was known as Manya in Chicago) and Rebecca (who was known as Rivka). Sasha was  naturalized in 1916, and one of his witnesses was Jacob Patofsky, who later became president of the Amalgamated Clothing Workers’ Union.

 

I plan to live as long as my maternal great-grandma Eugenia – who was about 108 years old when she died…

Great-grandmother was born Gittel Gumenik about 1861 near Zhitomir, which was then in the Russian Empire. Gittel was her Yiddish name; Eugenia was her official Russian name. Her maiden name means someone who works on a threshing floor making sure  sure no one steals anything from the barn where the grain is separated from the chaff. The surname may also have derived from the village of Gumenikki (which is about 10 miles northeast of Zhitomir).

When she was 16, Gittel married Naftula Pekler, who was a traveling salesman for the Singer Sewing Machine Company – which had a factory in Russia. He was a snappy dresser, and by all accounts, a ladies’ man. Gittel gave birth to 11 children, but only 7 lived until adulthood: Sasha, Matt, Tanya (my grandmother), Raya, Bertha, Esther, and Philip.

Gittel dutifully followed her husband from Zhitomir to Rovno (which was then in Poland), where the family lived with false papers for a year before they could emigrate in 1922. Evidently, she had been warned that American immigration officials were likely to deport her as “likely to become a public charge” if she revealed her true age. Back then, when typical life expectancy was about 50 years, someone over 60 was considered unemployable. So she shaved a dozen years off of her age for that voyage, and claimed to be 48. Eugenia kept up that ruse well into the 1960s, claiming to have been born in 1871 when she applied for a Social Security number so she could work at my grandpa’s clothing store.

Once the family left Zhitomir, Gittel’s feistiness blossomed. She absolutely refused to live with her husband any more. In the 1920s, this was not the done thing, but she stood her ground and never lived with Naftula again. The 1930 census, the first one in which members of the Peckler family appeared, shows that Eugenie was living with her children Bertha and Philip (and claiming to be a widow, even though her husband was still alive). Anatole was living with Sasha and his wife and kids.

Eugenia was determined to become a naturalized citizen. It took her nearly 20 years living in the U.S. to achieve it, and the day she took the oath in 1943 (when she was 82) was one of the happiest in her life.

When great-grandma moved to the Chicago Jewish Home for the Aged, she was the oldest resident who had ever lived there. She died in 1969 at the age of 97 or 108, depending on whether you believe her headstone or her naturalization certificate. With her as my role model for aging, I confidently expect to live to be a centenarian. Thanks, great-grandma for providing some outstanding DNA!

Pekler Family in Zhitomir c 1910

 

 

Since this is Surname Sunday, the time seems right to explore a mystery within the Pekler family. My mother’s mother was Tanya Pekler (far left in this picture) back in Russia; the family spelled it Peckler in the U.S.

The surname Pekler means “smuggler” or, if one lived in the district of Orsha, “from the town of Peklo.” 1 The name Pekler was found most often in parts of what are now Lithuania (Vilna), Belarus (Rechitsa), and Ukraine (Rovno).  My grandmother was born in Zhitomir, which is 117 miles from Rovno. This was a long way to travel in the 19th century, so it seems unlikely that the family came from there originally. However, my family stayed in Rovno for a year with false papers before they were able to emigrate in the early 1920s. Maybe they chose Rovno because there were relatives there. We will probably never know.

According to my mom, my great-grandpa, Naftula Pekler (the dapper, mustachioed patriarch in the picture), was not originally from Zhitomir, but no one knows where he was born. Naftula (who was known as Anatole in the U.S.) married Eugenia Gumenik about 1887. Their first child, Alexander (known as Sasha), was born in 1888 (he had already emigrated by the time this picture was taken). Sasha wrote that he was born in Zhitomir in both his World War I draft registration card and his naturalization petition. However, my mom says he was born somewhere else, but she doesn’t know where. Unfortunately, although birth registers exist for the Jewish community in Zhitomir, the archives has not permitted them to be microfilmed or digitized, so there is no easy way to confirm or refute that for the moment.

To add a bizarre wrinkle to the story, my  great-aunt, Esther Peckler (in center of picture),  told me that the family’s name wasn’t even Pekler – originally, it was Shnurman. That name means a “man who makes string” in Yiddish. The name is found most commonly in the towns of Kovno (today in Lithuania) and Mogilev (today in Belarus).

Why would a family change their name from Shnurman to Pekler? One possible explanation relates to the laws governing military conscription in the early 19th century. When Jews were first permitted to enter the Russian army in 1827, only the eldest son in the family would be drafted – and he had to serve for 25 years! But if the eldest son in one family had already been drafted, no other son could be drafted later. Because the  duration of service was so burdensome, young men of military age did what they had to avoid being drafted. So if, for example, the eldest son of a Pekler family had already been drafted, the Schnurman family with an eligible daughter would marry the second or third Pekler son, and take that family’s name. Her brothers would then adopt their sister’s married name and could theoretically avoid becoming cannon fodder.

1Alexander Beider. A Dictionary of Jewish Surnames from the Russian Empire. 2008. Bergenfield, NJ: Avotaynu, Inc. 1008 pages.

Today’s Rootstech theme was Discover.

First I discovered that Rootstech did not do a good job of setting the target audience for the workshop I had chosen for the first morning session — Karen Clifford’s session “Using Technology Effectively to Solve Research Problems.” According to the legend in the Session Schedule, it was an intermediate class, and I was looking forward to a challenging class at that level. There must have been some miscommunication, however, because Ms. Clifford evidently proposed it as a beginner class — she stated outright that she thought there would be more beginners there. I saw many people get up and leave, evidently as upset as I was. But I was brought up old school (ie, to be polite), and as a presenter, I know how disruptive such behavior can be to one’s concentration and pacing, so I stayed. I did get a few nuggets of new knowledge that will be helpful for researching a client’s family. For example, I knew that most people married in the town where the bride lived, but I was not aware that a newlywed couple would often stay in the wife’s hometown at least until the birth of first child so the mother could act as midwife. I will incorporate this nugget into the webinar (“Is There a Baby Catcher in Your Bloodline?”) that I’ll be presenting for the Southern California Genealogy Society, about researching ancestors who are midwives (http://www.scgsgenealogy.com/extension-series/jes2013.html).

Luckily, the 2nd session, “Digital Storytelling: Beyond Bullet Points” led by Denise Barrett Olson provided many useful discoveries. I have used PowerPoint for years to develop slide sets for presentations at medical conferences. Those presentations have to follow a strict, and boring, format, because speakers generally only have 12 to 15 minutes to summarize and share mounds of data. With that tiny slice of time, you can’t take the chance on adding audio or video to engage the audience, because if anything goes wrong, you do not get extra time – the schedule is the schedule. But I took mad notes to crib design ideas from Denise’s mini-movies within a slide show. I can just envision a variation on some of her themes with the pictures from the photo album that my late grandmother brought with her to the United States from Russia 100 years ago, with audio embedded from the oral history interview I did with her before she died.

During my first afternoon session Thomas W. Jones presented a classic case study entitled “Can a Complex Research Problem Be Solved Solely Online?” I discovered that, unlike other case studies I’d seen presented at other conferences, it was possible to incorporate both audience participation and wry humor when leading attendees through decisions about what record groups to consult to answer genealogical questions.

It was the NGS luncheon that led to the best discovery of all – an unexpected way to connect to someone. I had registered too late for Rootstech to snag a ticket to the luncheon, but my friend Susan Kitchens decided to prep for her afternoon presentation, and offered me her ticket. I arrived late, and only a few tables had empty seats. I chose to sit at one table randomly – all right, it was because there was a cute guy sitting there – who turned out to be attending BYU majoring in genealogy. I introduced myself to Paul and the older fellow to his right, Gary. I mentioned that, being from Southern California, I didn’t have warm enough clothes for the snow that had fallen throughout the conference, even though I had traveled here often. I knew how cold it can get in Salt Lake, because my husband, Dan, had been born in Wyoming and had grown up in Utah. Gary looked more closely at my name tag and said “Rollins? My step-father is Gary Rollins, from Lyman, Wyoming.” “Oh,” I said, “I’ve been to the oldest cabin in Lyman, where my husband’s grandfather was born.” Gary: “My step-father is Porter Rollins and that cabin is on his property across the road from his house. He must be related to your husband’s family.” OMG!

My mother would say there are no coincidences. Otherwise how would I have driven 800 miles to a genealogy conference, and attended a luncheon which I was not supposed to attend, only to sit at a table at random and find the stepson of one of my husband’s cousins? Genealogy is all well and good, and technology with genealogy is even better, but isn’t it really all about connecting people face to face? What do you think?

 

 

 

This post didn’t come into existence yesterday, because I spent the time I should have been creating the post dancing at Thomas MacEntee’s birthday party last night. It was definitely the right choice to make – we all had a blast celebrating!

Yesterday I attended sessions all day, along with 6700 other folk. I know my wheeled bag was responsible for more than a few bruised toes (apologies to the victims), and my own toes got a bruising as well.

The first morning session I attended was Kory Meyerink’s session “Evaluating Databases and Overcoming Their Errors.” I’ve heard Kory speak before, and knew he would cover the topic logically and thoroughly – and with humor – and he didn’t disappoint. The suggestion to always check the section that describes each database you use before plunging into a search was an important reminder for all genealogists, beginner and advanced. He mentioned using the FamilySearch research wiki to study Kentucky land records, which reminded me that I could use it as well to learn how to find out more about the Turkish Tobacco company formed in Vanceburg by my great-uncle Morris Newlander, who my grew tobacco in Kentucky for his cigar making businesses in Chicago.

Peggy Baldwin’s “Shrewd Internet Strategies: Diving Deeper” was next. I liked Peggy’s advice to keep a Google cheat sheet by my computer. I already knew about using a tilde next to a key word (like ~genealogy) to have the search generate results that include all synonyms for that key word, but I had forgotten. I am definitely going to find an existing cheat sheet using Google when I get home. I also appreciated the heads up she gave that FamilySearch now allows wild card searches with the asterisk at the start of the word or name (eg, *ishinevsky to identify any record for which an indexer may have misinterpreted the first letter).

This is the year I will have to enter the 21st century and buy a smart phone. My main motivation is to include info about smart phone apps for my upcoming book “Health Care Navigation 101.” But I wanted to learn how I could exploit the soon-to-be-mine gadget for genealogy and family history. So I next attended David Lifferth’s presentation “Using Your Android Device for Genealogy and Family History.”  He covered how an Android phone can help the genealogist on the go from A to Zed. And I’m also going to crib a style layout from his title slide, which was beautifully designed. I can already visualize my family photos laid out in similar fashion. Thanks, David!

I did not inherit the gene that bestows the ability to be naturally organized. So, I have to work at it. I still maintain 3 ring binders labeled with family names, and my computer folders are well organized for the way I think – but one can always learn one more tip that will help keep organization maintained. That’s why I attended “From Paper Piles to Digital Files,” given by Valerie Elkins. I will definitely implement the first suggestion she offered: to write Standard Operating Procedures for tasks that I do repeatedly. In my case, I definitely need an SOP for scanning procedures for my desktop and mobile scanners – I don’t scan often enough to remember all the steps from one time to the next. Valerie is a proponent of David Allen’s “Getting Things Done,” and mentioned a program called Zendone that acts as an electronic in-box that automatically saves items that you choose to Evernote. Sounds like a real time-saver that is well worth checking out. She also mentioned some scanning apps for the Android phone I plan to buy: Camscanner; DocScanner; and Doc Scan Pro.

I finished out the day by hanging out in the Expo Hall. First, I stopped to visit with exhibitors I already knew, like Genlighten and the Southern California Genealogical Society, which is sponsoring my upcoming webinar “Do You Have a Baby Catcher in Your Bloodline?” I also visited a few vendors that were new to me: SeekingMichigan.org, for example. We couldn’t find my great-uncle Eugene Weisz (who lived in Detroit), but I’ll keep checking back as they bring more content online. Just before the hall closed, a delightful man named Olof from Arkiv Digital spent a half hour with me, helping me find documents pertaining to a collateral line of mine who migrated to Malmo, Sweden.

A full day, but there was still some heavy-duty partying to be done…

Rootstech 2013 – which is where I am from now through Sunday —  occupies a goodly portion of the Salt Palace in Salt Lake City, and its 6700 attendees take over a goodly portion of the city’s hotel rooms. The massiveness was more than a bit overwhelming, so after a quick tour of the Expo Hall with all the Rootstech bloggers (of which I am one) at 7:30 this morning, I headed over to the Family History Library for some much-anticipated research.

I had been over-the-moon with excitement when I found that the FHL had microfilmed tax census documents (revizki skazki in Anglicized Russian) for Tiraspol, the ancestral town of my Kishinevsky family. So I headed to the basement, snagged the 4 films, set myself up with a 42x magnifying microfilm reader (my eyes not being what they used to be), attached my digital camera and my bendy tripod to the microfilm lens mounting, and settled in for the long haul. A 6 and a half hour haul, to be exact. That’s how long it took to slog through crabbed 19th century Cyrillic script. Some documents were badly faded, others had been written by clerks who were barely literate. Many were written with pen nibs that were so wide, the ink bled through the foolscap paper of the ledgers, making text on both sides practically illegible. One ledger had been so badly neglected you could see hundreds of mold spots on every page. I found Vasilys, Grigoris, and Gerasims (traditional Russian first names) enough to choke a horse, but only two Jewish first names: Xaim and Moisei. And not a Kishinevsky to be seen! After six and a half hours!

By then my eyes were terminally crossed, but I also wanted to check out what promised to be another interesting source – police records of the murders (and other interesting events – that’s in the title) that took place in Chicago 1911-1920. Why did I want to see these? I had hoped to find the statement made by one Arturo Fabbri, who was of interest in the gunning down of Big Jim Colosimo on May 11, 1920. Fabbri, who had been married to my great-aunt Jeanette, was cleared in the case, but I wanted to see evidence of the police making him sweat. I found the entry, but it was one measly paragraph, starting with “Colosimo, James, age 47, shot at entrance to his café.” No mention of Fabbri at all. Another dead end!

Back at the Salt Palace, I was able to catch Patricia van Skaik’s session “Beyond Home Movies: Youtube Genealogy.” I want to be able to share family stories in a way that will entrance my two kids and my two nieces – if that is at all possible. Patricia’s presentation was just the ticket. There are several items in my notes that will be transferred to my genealogical to-do list when I get home.

Rootstech arranged both a reception for attendees at the Leonardo Museum – a lovely contemporary venue where I met at least a dozen intriguing people. From there, I tagged along with Pall Howes and his lovely wife to a specially-arranged concert by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. The 360-voice choir sounds otherworldly with its embroidered harmonies, and the organ (12th largest in the world) is awe-inspiring. Thanks Rootstech organizers for arranging this musically spiritual experience!

Today is Thankful Thursday, and the end of the Family History Writing Challenge. Here is what I am thankful for, now that the Challenge is complete.

  • I am thankful that I was able to create 25 of the planned 28 posts during February, more than all the posts I have created in the 6 years that this blog has existed. I have learned that even with the FHWC to kick me in the butt, I still face challenges with blogging daily.
  • I am thankful that I have learned that if I create a blog calendar, I can devote several hours over a weekend to creating posts for the entire week, and schedule them to be posted in advance.
  • I am thankful that I now know that every document I have collected in the last 20+ years of research can generate at least a 250 word story (that was my commitment). In general, I can write the first draft within a half hour, and craft it to my standards within an hour.
  • I am thankful that I have learned to tag each post before previewing – this is important, because I neglected to tag the earliest posts for this blog, not realizing that I needed to scroll down in order to see that option. I have edited all earlier posts and tagged them properly.
  • I am thankful that I know how to drag and drop more than one image into a post, and can add images to any part of the post, not just at the start of the first paragraph.

Thank you, Lynn Palermo (The Armchair Genealogist), for sponsoring the Family History Writing Challenge. Even though I don’t plan to blog daily, I feel confident that I can maintain the discipline to create twice weekly

Morris Newlander was my great-grandfather Isaac Kishinevsky’s older brother. Practically from the time he arrived in Chicago from Tiraspol, Morris owned a cigar factory of one sort or another.

Van-Loo cigar label (Collection of the Author)

Business names and year of establishment were M Newlander & Company in 1899, Van Loo Cigar Company in 1911, and La Polina cigars (year unknown). The first company was formed with partners W Warshawer and Lawrence Schat. He also owned farm land in New Hampton, Iowa and Vanceburg, Kentucky on which he grew Turkish tobacco.  In the early 19-teens, a cigar factory would not have been the size of an airplane hangar. M Newlander & Company consisted of a few rooms at 49 Franklin Street near downtown Chicago.

Morris Newlander’s factory was described in a human interest news story from the Chicago Daily Tribune in August 14, 1910. The reporter wasn’t necessarily interested in the hard working cigar makers – 50 men and women worked there, some recruited from as far away as Puerto Rico and Cuba. But the reporter was interested in the pretty young woman Morris had hired to read to the workers. Ethel Vipon read in two hour segments, with twenty minute breaks, from the time she punched the time clock in the morning, until the workday was over. Mr. Newlander hired her to break the monotony for the cigar makers, and so that the workers could improve their English. A secondary gain to Morris was that production of the ten cent cigars also improved from seven cigars to eight during the same length of time – a 14% increase!

The company paid Ethel $3.50 per week, but the majority of her income came from the workers, who each contributed 25 cents. All told, she earned about $16 a week. That’s almost three times what my grandma Sophie earned sewing shirtwaist dresses in a sweat shop just 2 years later!

Daily readings included the daily newspaper (including headline stories, society news, and the sports pages); short stories by Guy de Maupassant, Lev Tolstoy, and Upton Sinclair; magazines; and history books.

Ethel Vipon reading to cigar makers, 1910 (Courtesy of Chicago Daily Tribune)

Morris got the idea of hiring the reader from having seen the same thing done in cigar factories in Cuba. Once the practice was established, none of the workers wanted it to be discontinued. According to Morris, ”At the hours when this reading is not going on there is an apparent restlessness and discontent.”

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