Wordless Wednesday

Eleventh Anniversary

Obergefell v. Hodges, June 26, 2015

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: What Artifacts Did You Find in an Ancestor's Closet/Attic/Garage?

Coming to the party a little late, but better late than never, right?  I have received treasures I can write about for the recent Saturday Night Genealogy Fun challenge from Randy Seaver.

Here is your assignment, if you choose to play along (cue the Mission:  Impossible! music, please!):

1.  Were you lucky enough to receive or find artifacts from your relatives (parents, grandparents, others) as you pursued your genealogy research?

2.  Describe one or more of the artifacts you found or received and where you obtained them.

3.  Share your information about your ancestral artifacts in your own blog post, write a comment on this blog post, or put it in a Substack post, Facebook Note, or some other social media system.  Please leave a comment on this post so others can find it.

Thank you to Marian B. Wood for this SNGF suggestion.

I have received two such artifact bounties and, to some degree, found a third.

After my paternal grandfather passed away in 1995, his widow moved to live with her nephew.  A couple of years after she died, her nephew contacted my aunt and asked whether she was interested in my grandfather's old papers and photographs.  I am still thrilled that she said yes and accepted them.  She kept them for some time and then gave them to my father, who dreamed of scanning everything.  He eventually gave up on that and asked me if I wanted them, and of course I said yes.  The photographs eventually helped me find my aunt (my father's youngest half-sister), and the papers follow his career through the civil service.

When my father passed away in 2019, I told my siblings the only physical items I was interested in were his photographs and his racing trophies.  They were all taken by my stepbrother from Florida to Texas when he closed out the property and moved his mother (my stepmother) to his home, and eventually found their way to my sister, also in Texas.  I still don't have the trophies or the original photos, but my sister's niece scanned the photos (I hope all of them), which my sister sent me on a flash drive (my photo bonanza).  I am still working on identifying many of the photos, and I have posted several here on my blog.

When my material grandmother suffered a stroke in 2005, it was immediately apparent that she would be unable to live on her own anymore.  I was able to arrange to work remotely, so I flew out to Florida to pack up everything from her apartment.  I brought home three large boxes of photographs stored in her closet, most of which were identified because I had visited my grandmother a year before that and had convinced her to let me label them.  I have made copies of and scanned several photos and shared them with my many cousins.

What Happened in June 1964?

These are three photographs that were developed in June 1964.  The date on photos indicated when they were developed, not when they were taken.  I believe they were taken in front of my family's home in La Puente, California.  The first two are of me, while the third is of me, my mother, and my sister Stacy.

What's that, you say?  You don't see my sister in the third photo?  Ah, but she is there.

If you'll note, my mother looks rather pregnant in the photograph.  And even if these photos were taken in, say, April or May and then developed later in June, that means Stacy is there, because she was born on June 16, 1964 in La Puente.

So this may be the earliest photo of Stacy that my father ever took.  Happy birthday, Stacy!

Wordless Wednesday

Saturday Night Genealogy Fun: An Ancestor Who Took a RIsk

Tonight's topic from Randy Seaver for this week's Saturday Night Genealogy Fun applies to several of my ancestors.

Here is your assignment, if you choose to play along (cue the Mission: Impossible! music, please!):

1.  The life of every person has events and decisions that have risk factors that can significantly affect that life.

2.  Describe a risk that one of your ancestors made that affected that person's life.  How did it all turn out?

Share your information about an ancestor's risk in your own blog post, write a comment on this blog post, or put it in a Substack post, Facebook Note, or some other social media system.  Please leave a comment on this post so others can find it.

Every ancestor (and collateral relative) on my mother's side of the family (my Jewish side) who made the momentous decision to immigrate to the United States took a risk when doing so, because none of them knew how it would turn out.  I'm sure they all heard stories about the wonderful opportunities available in the Goldene Medina, the "golden country", but they probably also heard stories about how the move didn't work out as well as expected for some.  Probably the ones who took the biggest risks were the first ones in each family to do so.

My great-grandfather Joyne Gorodetsky, who chose the name Joe Gordon after he immigrated, was the first member of my Gorodetsky family to cross the pond.  The chain migration of the family from the Russian Empire began after the death of my great-great-grandmother Esther Leah (Schneiderman) Gorodetsky on December 10, 1908; eventually all eight children and my great-great-grandfather came to North America.  Joyne arrived July 5, 1909 (right after Independence Day!) at Ellis Island, traveling to meet his uncle Shmuel Schneiderman (Sam Schneiderman here), his mother's brother.

Joe found work in the garment industry in New York City.  A few years after arriving, he was a boarder at the home of Mendel Hertz (Morris) and Ruchel Dvojre (Rose Dorothy) Brainin in Manhattan, which is where he met my great-grandmother, Sore Leibe (Sarah Libby) Brainin.  Soon they married and had three children:  my granduncles, Alexander and Sidney, and my grandmother, Esther Lillian (who later changed her name to Lillyan E.).

From everything I have been told, Joe was successful in the garment industry.  In 1930 the family was in Baltimore, Maryland, possibly having moved there for better opportunities after the Depression had hit.  But soon they moved back to New York, where Joe bought a house in Brooklyn.  The extended family, including many aunts, uncles, and cousins, got together (almost?) every Saturday to socialize, with Joe and Sarah's house the center of the activities.  My grandmother told me how her father loved to host these events.  My mother remembered how he used to bounce her and her cousin Harriet on his lap and sing "Buttons and Bows" to them.

For many years Joe did not become a U.S. citizen.  He finally did so after World War II began, naturalizing on August 3, 1943 in New York.

Joe died May 2, 1955 (yahrzeit 10 Iyar) in Brooklyn.  He is buried in Wellwood Cemetery, Pinelawn, Suffolk County, New York.

Overall, I'd say his taking a risk turned out well.

Wordless Wednesday