My Cuban Adventure, Part 1: In Search of Family History

For the past week I have been in Cuba.  The organized group with which I traveled was (nominally) focused on volunteer humanitarian work (more on that later), but I went primarily because I wanted to do some family history research.  What with U.S.–Cuban relations thawing and the likely upcoming rush to make Cuba an American playground (again) by next year, I figured I should take the opportunity while I could, because soon the place is likely to be overrun with tourists.

My research wasn't going to focus on people, because I have no relatives left in Cuba.  The cousins who lived there emigrated soon after Fidel Castro came to power in 1959 (almost all of them) or some years later.  Instead, I wanted to try to visit locations associated with family members, as no one has any photographs of any of those places.

Patronato Synagogue

The one absolute success I had was finding the Patronato Synagogue in Havana, where cousins from the Jewish side of my family used to be members.  I took photographs of the exterior and interior, and of plaques and photos inside.  I also spoke with a very nice man who did not recognize the names of any of my cousins, but considering how long ago they left, I was not all that surprised.

1956 Patronato photograph

Later I was able to visit the Cuban Jewish Community center, which is next door to the synagogue.  This time I met Adela Dworkin, the well known president of the synagogue.  While speaking with her I discovered she knows one of my cousins, who was actively involved in the community.  Adela remembers when the cousin moved from Cuba to Israel.  It was nice to find a personal connection on my trip.

I also had two old home addresses for this side of the family.  The one on Calle Hospital (Hospital Street) in Havana doesn't seem to have panned out — there's an apartment building there, but it looks very blocky and post-1959 to me (see that on the left?).  I took a photo of it just in case, and also one of an older apartment building a couple of blocks up the street.  I suspect where the blocky building is now there used to be buildings of the older type.  I'm waiting to hear from my cousin to learn if either looks familiar.

Looking for the other address proved to be one of the more exciting things I did while in Havana.  Through my hotel's tourist information desk, I worked out an arrangement with Elaine, a hotel employee who happened to live in the same suburb (Guanabacoa) where the address is, to go with me and help me look for the building.  I learned that maps are not commonly used in Cuba; most people get around by asking others for directions.  So having someone who knew that area was going to be a big advantage.

I arrived early for our scheduled excursion, because that's what I usually do.  She was working on Caribbean time, however, and showed up almost half an hour late, causing me a little bit of stress.  The taxi we took was a 1956 Buick Roadmaster, one of the classic old cars that Cuba is famous for.  It had a Toyota emblem attached to the grill, a Ford gear shift, and a very modern pop-out digital radio.  Heaven knows what kind of engine was under the hood — I was told that most of the old cars now have newer engines, because it's easier to keep them running.

And off we headed to Guanabacoa, to the east and a little south of my hotel.  On the way out of Havana we passed through an ominous-looking government checkpoint but didn't have to stop.  (I went through another of these checkpoints when my tour group took a day trip west of Havana.  I'm willing to bet there's one in the south direction to match.)  While the car belched gas and oil fumes (maybe this one had an old engine after all?), the driver tried to avoid as many potholes as possible, but there were just too many, and he still hit quite a few.

After half an hour of this entertainment, we reached Guanabacoa, and Elaine gave the driver instructions to find Estrada Palma (Palm Street), the street we were looking for.  When we found it, we of course turned the wrong direction.  After about six blocks of watching the house numbers go up instead of down, we turned around and headed back.  We eventually found #59, an apartment building with a ground floor and two upper stories with apartments.

Elaine asked the neighbors and some women walking out of the building if they recognized my cousins' family name, which no one did.  But one woman from the apartment building invited us to come upstairs and look around.  She let us visit her apartment and allowed me to take photographs of the rooms.  I checked the door frames of all ten apartments (five on each floor), and none had even a vestige of a mezuzah having been hung there, but it has been more than 60 years.  The woman was pretty sure the building had been there in the 1950's, so I think it's the right place, but I'll be checking with my cousin about this one also.

Another cousin, this one on my non-Jewish side, used to live in Cuba, but just to be different moved there after Castro.  Her then-husband decided he was a Communist, and they moved so he could participate fully as a party member.  Apparently things didn't turn quite out as he had expected, because they moved back to the U.S. within a couple of years.  I wanted to try to find the house where they had lived, which my cousin remembered was in Mariel la Boca and near a women's prison, but she couldn't find the address anywhere.  The closest I came was seeing a sign for the town from the highway.

entrance to Necrópolis de Colón

My last foray into family history in Cuba actually had nothing to do with my own family.  On my final morning in Havana I walked to the Necrópolis de Colón (Columbus
Cemetery), a huge Catholic cemetery more than 50 city blocks in size.  I had seen the entrance earlier during the week and knew I had to visit it before I left.  Beautiful monuments and mausolea are everywhere.  Although the tombstone style looks like they're above-ground burials, as in New Orleans, I was told they're actually below ground.  The large memorial tombstones are simply an ostentatious way of showing respect for the dead, apparently from a Spanish custom.  (I was also told that after a few years the bones are moved from the graves to an ossuary, because families are large and there is always someone else to bury in the family plot.)  The most interesting mausoleum was as big as a house.  It's for people who came from the same town, rather than being for one family.

Mausoleum for "Naturales de Ortigueira"

Near Necrópolis de Colón is a Chinese cemetery, whose entrance I saw the same day earlier in the week.  I ran out of time to visit it on Saturday morning because it appears to be on the far side of Colón and I had already walked a few miles, but I did manage to take a photo while the tour bus was waiting at a red light.  I didn't find the Jewish cemetery on this trip; I guess I'll have to come back!

While I was strolling through Colón, I wondered if a complete list of all the interments and/or the tombstones exists.  Somehow I doubt it.  Wouldn't that be an interesting project for FindAGrave?

My Cuban Adventure, Part 2, is "Seeing the Sights."
My Cuban Adventure, Part 3, is "General Impressions and Observations."

Angel Island Family History/Reunion Day, Satuday, July 11, 2015

On Saturday, July 11, the Angel Island Immigration Station Foundation and Angel Island State Park will hold a Family History/Reunion Day at the site of the former U.S. Immigration Station on Angel Island.  The program will feature Chinese, Filipino, Indian, Japanese, Jewish, Korean, and Russian researchers, either in person or via videotape, and an open house where people can learn about the former Immigration Station, which is a National Historic Landmark.  The open house will begin at 11:00 a.m., and the formal program will run from 11:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m.  Expert genealogists from the community and Ancestry.com will be available to able to help people search for their roots until 3:00 p.m.

The Immigration Station was in use from 1910–1940 and processed one million immigrants from eighty countries, including Chinese immigrants who left poetry during their often long periods of detention as they sought to avoid the restrictions of the Chinese Exclusion Acts, Japanese picture brides, Jews escaping the Holocaust in 1930 and 1940, Koreans escaping Japanese control of their country, Indians affected by additional anti-Asian laws in 1917 and 1924, Russians escaping the impact of the revolution, Filipinos suddenly affected by immigration restrictions after their country was on the road to independence, and many more.

Speakers will talk about their families’ experiences, and those attending in person will be available to help answer questions.  One story will be that of Rosa Ginsberg, who was profiled on AIISF’s Immigrant Voices Web site.  The article was about Ginsberg’s immigration file at the National Archives in San Bruno and how she fled Nazi-controlled Austria and hoped to reunite with her boyfriend, Herbert Klein, in New York.  AIISF noted that it did not know what happened to Rosa and Herbert and asked readers to contact them if they had additional information.  Rosa and Herbert did marry, and their son Jeffrey discovered the story online and contacted AIISF to give an update and much more, which he will present at the event on July 11.

In addition, experts from the community and Ancestry.com will be present to show families how to use online resources and to give advice on where to find materials detailing ancestors’ immigration experiences.  Organizers recommend taking the 9:45 a.m. ferry from San Francisco’s Pier 41 or the 10:00 a.m. ferry from Tiburon to get to the island; after that they can take the 25-minute climbing walk or catch a shuttle for a fee.  Ferries from Oakland and Vallejo make connections to the Angel Island ferry.  The open house and program will cost only $5.00, $3.00 for ages 6–17, and free for ages 5 and under.

For more information, including ferry and shuttle prices and details, a list of speakers, and advance tickets, please visit AIISF or call (415) 348-9200 x11.

Immigration Stories at Angel Island

Ayala Cove

After 24 years of living in the San Francisco Bay area, I finally visited Angel Island last week.  I have been wanting to go for several years but somehow never managed to schedule it.  Luckily for me, the California Genealogical Society (CGS) coordinated a family history event this year for Family History Month — plus asked me to help find someone to speak about Jewish immigration through the island — so circumstances worked in my favor.  It was also a "chamber of commerce day" — gorgeous weather, clear blue sky, the kind of day convention and visitors bureaus send out their photographers to take promotional shots.  The ferry ride from Oakland to the island (with a change of boats at the Ferry Building in San Francisco) was very enjoyable, and there was even a great view of the new eastern span of the Bay Bridge on the return trip.

Barracks (front) and Hospital (rear)

The station has several points of interest.  CGS posted a helpful map of the station online.  There are informative signs throughout the area, describing not only the buildings (and former buildings) but also activities of people who were held on the island.  Just inside the gated entrance are what remains of employee cottages that were designed by the famed architect Julia Morgan.  It's a shame they didn't survive.

China Cove and the Immigration Station

Down by the water at China Cove was the dock where immigrants arrived (it was torn down years ago).  An administrative building used to be there also, but all that's left now is part of the foundation, showing the footprint of where the building was.  A fire in 1940 destroyed the building and caused the closure of the station.  A small plaza and an Immigrant Heritage Wall have been built at the cove as part of the renovation of the park.  Nearby is the hospital, which is not open to the general public yet but is under renovation and scheduled to open in 2016.  While we were there a group of nurses was given a private tour of the hospital.

Immigration Barracks

The two buildings that are currently open are the main immigration barracks and a World War II mess hall.  Several interesting displays, mostly about Chinese immigration, were set up in the immigration barracks for the family history event.  One of the docents had brought a lot of his own materials to share with attendees, and one of the speakers brought her research documents.  There were also tables with informational material from CGS and the San Francisco Bay Area Jewish Genealogical Society.

Mess Hall

The mess hall is where the presentations took place.  Grant Din (staff at the Angel Island Immigration Station Foundation) and Kay Speaks (genealogist) spoke about their Chinese ancestors who were processed at Angel Island.  Roslyn Tonai (executive director of the National Japanese American Historical Society) talked about her mother's family, Japanese immigrants who came through here.  And Maria Sakovich (independent researcher) described the paths across Europe and Asia that Jewish immigrants took during World War I and II that led them to Angel Island.  All of the speakers had interesting stories, and I'm glad I had the opportunity to learn from them.

In a nice bit of serendipity a woman who works at the Tenement Museum in New York City happened to be on the island as part of her vacation in California.  She is very interested in genealogy outside of her job, and she was thrilled to find out that there was a family history event going on.  We had trouble deciding who the biggest genealogy geek was.

I am happy I had the opportunity to visit Angel Island because my stepsons' grandfather, who was from Punjab, India, came through the island when he arrived in the United States in the 1920's.  Through research I have learned he was not detained, even though Indians were classifed similarly to Chinese (as "Asians" under the Chinese Exclusion Act), because he came as a student, not an immigrant.  But just knowing that he went through there made the visit special.

CGS has posted several excellent photographs of the day taken by Judy Bodycote on its blog.

The one flaw in my day was the climb from the ferry dock at Ayala Cove to the immigration station.  I swear I was told it was about a mile, but it's actually closer to a mile and a half, and most of it is uphill.  My poor little old knees were not happy.  The next time I go to Angel Island, I think I'll take the tram to the immigration station instead.