Seattle Bon Odori

Last weekend I spent some time flaneuring at this annual Japanese street dance, "in which we honor our ancestors who have passed on, remember and appreciate all they have done for us, and celebrate their ongoing presence in the lives we enjoy today." Quite a spectacle of kimono patterns and more contemporary Asian fashion, with models of all ages. Plus Taiko drumming!

There was also a hall of various arts and crafts, Go players, and ikebana. And I couldn't resist the alley.

Sepia Saturday: Steam Packet

As I’ve related earlier, my great-grandfather came to the U.S. from Latvia in 1884 with his mother and siblings. A few years ago, before I’d found his diary, I was trying to find out more about him; I began searching the Internet for passenger lists that might show their arrival. What I found (on Ancestry.com) had enough confusing inaccuracies to cast doubt on its relevance, so I saved a copy but relinquished the search for the nonce.



However, last week I revisited the issue, armed with further data gleaned from the diary in the last year or two. The facts I had to start with:

1. David and family supposedly arrived in NYC (Castle Garden) in late summer 1884 from Hamburg via Glasgow.
2. Included on the boat were David (about 21), Leah (his mother, about 35), Herman (about 19), Jennie (about 13), and Rose and Margaret (younger; their birth dates unknown).
3. The diary seems to indicate that his sister Freda (who would have been about 12) apparently emigrated later, in 1912 with her grandmother.

I started my new search on CastleGarden.org (the facility pre-dating Ellis Island, which I had not known about several years ago). Quickly I found this transliteration of a passenger list, apparently of a Blumenfeld family (one of relative parental age), arriving Sep. 10, 1884. They are shown as Russian by birth (Latvia not being a country at that point), and traveling from Hamburg via Glasgow.

• Aradil, male, 14, farmer
• Cheim, male 19, laborer
• David, male 21, laborer
• Leham, male 40, laborer
• Maup, female 5, child
• Rachel, female 11, child
• Sewiche, female 16, laborer

Their ship is named the Devonia.

 Despite the numerous encouraging coincidences, several irksome questions struck me:

1. Obviously the names except for David’s are pre-Americanized. They are handwritten rather badly (left-handed, I believe) on the passenger list, so these transcriptions from Castle Garden are dubious, to say nothing of the roll-taker’s ear for names and his spelling capabilities.
   That said, it makes phonetic sense to Americanize Cheim to Herman, Rachel to Rose, Maup (which I read as Marya on the original) to Margaret, and Leham to Lena.
2. Aside from the slight age discrepancy, if Leham were Lena, why is she labeled Male?
3. Who is “Aradil”? A cousin? Why isn’t this person mentioned in the diary?

Anyway, I sent this circumstantial evidence to my cousin, who immediately hopped into the fray and discovered a second passenger list online, this one for a steamer named the Prague, sailing from Hamburg to Glasgow, August 24, 1884, with a Captain Mackenzie at the helm. The handwriting was clear and flourished, and listed the following, all from the Blumenfelds’ home town of Tuckum:

• Leha, female 40
• David, male 21
• Chaim, male 19
• Simche, female 16
• Fradel, female 14
• Rachel, female 11
• Margola, female 5

The family’s ending destination is listed as New York. David’s and Chaim’s occupations are accurately listed as tailor. This is all pretty irrefutable. So now I had several revelations:

• their original names
• birthdates for the youngest siblings
• Fradel (Freda) came over with the family in 1884
• Leha (Leah) was several years older than I’d thought
• the record from the Devonia is indeed theirs
• and the story as David told it in his novelized diary was accurate

Arguably the biggest revelation was, always go for a second opinion. Whoever created that New York passenger list was unfamiliar with Hebrew names and spelling, and had dreadful handwriting to boot. He also seemed to have a bit of problem with determining gender, or perhaps with simply filling out the correct box on a form!

Unable to stop, I did a bit of further research on the two ships.

Devonia (pictured at the top of this post) was a 4,270-ton ship, built by Barrow Shipbuilding Co. in 1877 for the Anchor Line. Her length was 400ft x beam 42ft, straight stem, one funnel, three masts (rigged for sail), iron construction, single screw and a speed of 13 knots. There was passenger accommodation for 200-1st, 100-2nd and 800-3rd class. Her last voyage on this service commenced 19th Oct. 1893. After this, she made an occasional voyage for Barrow Steamship Co., but was mostly laid up until July 1899 when she went to Hamburg for scrapping.

A ticket like the ones David and his family would have as passengers on the Devonia 

The Prague was a 1077-ton ship, built by Barclay, Curle & Co., Glasgow, in 1872 for the Leith, Hull & Hamburg Steam Packet Company. It was sold in 1916 to D. Pavlatos & Co., Piraeus, Greece, and renamed the Lefkosia. On May 11th, 1917, on a voyage from Valencia to St. Louis (Rhone) with a cargo of sulfuric acid, she was scuttled by the German submarine U-34, six miles from Cape Tortosa. There were no casualties.

Thanks to, and related info at: gjenvick.com

norwayheritage.com

http://www.wrecksite.eu/wreck.aspx?142828

http://www.uboat.net/wwi/ships_hit/3549.html (see a picture of the captain who sank the Lefkosia!)

Be sure to visit SEPIA SATURDAY!

Sepia Saturday: Finding Lost Treasure, Pt. 9

Continuing with excerpts from my great-grandfather David Blumenfeld's diary, which I discovered two years ago.

While David gets rolling with his new family in Minneapolis, his father, who has abandoned Davd's mother and siblings in Michigan, continues to search for success.

In 1888, the United States government threw open western land for settlement, offering 120 acres of virgin soil free to anyone who would settle thereon. Ben-Zion Blumenfeld was attracted by the possibilities, went to Oregon, and took up a claim with the earnest intention of working it. He found it hard, however, to be alone in his struggle for a new start in life, and hard to adapt himself to the country. [His wife] Leah had no inclination for pioneering so late in life and no desire to be away from the children and civilization in the wild and woolly west.

Homesteading

Leah took her youngest boy, Joseph, with some of her belongings and went to Oregon to look things over. She was very much disappointed, finding Ben-Zion and his enterprise contrary to her liking. He had a two-room shack, one old horse and wagon, a cow, some chickens and barren soil. These constituted “the farm.” Leah lost heart at the sight of such an outfit and taking the boy she went on to San Francisco, to make her home with her daughter Rose who was working in a hospital.

Telegraph Hill, San Fancisco, 1890s

After Leah departed Ben-Zion was heartbroken and embittered, imagining that his wife lost courage and desire to be with him. He sold out his interest and left for an unknown destination.

Meanwhile, influenza sweeps across the Atlantic from Western Europe in 1891 and 1892.

Influenza "remedy"

David came home one day from his shop, complaining of a tremulous beating throughout his brain. He said it was as if a small engine were at work in his head and that the piston and boiler were banging, fizzing and vibrating amid his fevered senses. His senses seemed drugged and his mind dimmed. A doctor was called and he ordered David to bed. [David] was in a state of coma for five weeks, hovering between life and death. A trained nurse was engaged to watch over him.

During these critical weeks Lena [David's wife] gave birth to a girl. It lived only two weeks and was carried out of the house to its final resting place before David was able to see the child. This tragedy left its indelible mark on the young mother, and weakened by physical and mental suffering, she too became very ill.

Only after a confinement of ten weeks was David able to go out. Those weeks with doctors, nurses, medicines and other expenses had taken all the ready savings of the family. The business, in the meantime, had run to ruin and the shop had been pilfered by the dishonest employees who had been left in charge.

Soon, in 1893, the World's Fair opens in Chicago and brings with it the promise of easy money.

1893 Columbian Exposition

David determined to go to Chicago and moved his family, Lena and their little daughter Belle, then about five years old, and opened a little shop. He did fairly well for a man without capital. In November, Lena gave birth to a boy whom they named Albert.

...In 1894, after the Chicago World’s Fair had closed, there were thousands of stranded people from many parts of the world without means of subsistence. The Pullman Car Company strike, as well as many other strikes throughout the steel industry, caused great disturbance in American financial circles. Work of any kind was hard to get at a premium. This was [one] reason why David decided to move back to Minneapolis.

David had not saved any money for traveling expenses. No wonder, considering the amount of sickness. He sold his house furniture and left Chicago barehanded. Coming to Minneapolis, he rented one of the Carr houses on Seventh and Washington Avenue North.

Washington Ave. between 7th and 8th, 50 years later

...They moved to Second Avenue south, corner of 9th Street, where David opened a dressmaking parlor, but he was handicapped financially in pushing his new enterprise.

...But troubles and want had completely conquered David. They had washed him out and left him colorless for the time being. Nevertheless he stubbornly refused to deliver up his lively spirit, though he could not develop any philosophical humor himself and the hard times seemed to leave little humor in anything.

...David shortly after moved to St. Paul, where he found a job. He rented rooms on Chestnut Street. Work in those days was at a premium and only low wages were paid, hardly enough to hold the family’s soul and body together. And the expensive medicines for [Albert] added a strain to their meager income.

Dayton's Bluff, St. Paul 1880

The confusion in David’s mind was sometimes intense. Even when he sat quietly at the table he floundered within himself helplessly, with all the impotent strength of a harpooned whale. “You are a caution, David,” said his friend Abe Calmenson to him one day. “You have the pluck of a lion and the strength of a bull and the pride of the devil to fight misery that is more than I could ever withstand. Oh, you are not beaten yet.”

To be continued…

And find more fascinating posts at Sepia Saturday blog

Some of these photos were borrowed from the following sites:


www.travelpod.com


foundsf.org


mirandarights.wordpress.com


theoccasionalceo.blogspot.com


grossmanproject.net


www.daytonsbluff.org