Sepia Saturday: Finding Lost Treasure, Pt. 5

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

We join his father Ben Zion, who has finally managed to emigrate from Latvia to Michigan and begin working as a peddler...


By the middle of July 1884 Ben-Zion had saved enough money to send home, to pay for steamship tickets as far as New York. [His wife] Leah...showed great diplomacy in getting out of Russia, for she had two sons, especially David, now past twenty years old, who had to report to the military authorities for service, and Herman was reaching his eighteenth year. She packed her few heirlooms, the feather beds, the large pillows, the samovar, some copper kettles, which the old women told her were unobtainable in America, and the most precious of all, the brass Sabbath chandeliers, among the other household articles.

Plunge Synagogue

They then journeyed to Plunge [Plungyans], Lithuania, thence to Gorzd, also in Lithuania, where she left the boys in care of trusted smugglers who were to get them across the Russian frontier, an operation run hand in hand with great risk and difficulty.

Market, Gorzd

Running the gauntlet of the Russian frontier was an adventure for the Jews of that period. The Jewish community on the German side of the border operated the underground railroad system so silently that its romantic story is still to be written.

Memel

Leah, with just the girls and baggage, went straight to Memel, Germany (now Klaipeda, Lithuania), where they waited two days before the boys arrived. From there they all went on a tramp schooner to Stettin (Szczecin), Poland, then to Hamburg. Leah bought tickets to New York via Glasgow.

Stettin, 1900

Stettin, 1900

Their first lodging place before they were taken aboard was poor, unsanitary and unsafe. The sleeping quarters were unclean, what with twenty being housed in one room.

The Blumenfeld Trail from Europe to the US

Inhumane and uncivilized guards directed the bewildered immigrants to their quarters in the steerage where there was hardly any breathing space. The stench was unbearable. The food was dished out in dinner pails provided by the steamship company. Even drinking water was grudgingly given to the steerage passengers. No precaution was taken against inclement weather. One hundred to two hundred slept in one compartment, in bunks one above the other. There was no light, no privacy or comfort.

On the fourth day after they were on the high seas the steamer felt the surging might of the implacable ocean. A great wave rose suddenly out of the ocean and swept over the ship’s foredeck with a force such as only a wall of water possesses. In a flash it accomplished its destruction, twisting and breaking deck plates, stanchions and lifeboats. ...[The sailors] clamped down all hatches and covered them with oilskins to prevent drenching below the deck, thus shutting off the fresh air for those below, chiefly in the steerage. As the waves tossed the steamer, dishes rattled from the bunks to the floor, children cried in fear, men and women became seasick, and with trembling lips and failing hearts prayed to God, each in his mother tongue for the abatement of the storm. ...The trip took twenty-one days owing to the high seas they encountered.

At last they arrive in New York.

Castle Garden

Poor Leah and her children were detained [at Castle Garden, precursor to Ellis Island], for there was no one to meet them. ...She and her children were held as captives of the law until they could hear from Ben-Zion. ...She laid before the commissioner the letters she had from her husband and pleaded for permission to send her eldest son to find him, as the steamer was to remain a week before its return to Europe. ...The immigration officer wired for information to Ludington, Michigan, and reply came that he was not there at that time but was away peddling and they could not reach him. Therefore, they permitted David to go to find his father.

Fifth Avenue and 24th Street circa 1894, by Alessandro Guaccimanni

Leah had the address of a man named Zigler who once worked for her father and was supposed to be living in Madison Square. She told David to find Mr. Zigler first and tell him of their plight and to ask for help. David left after breakfast to look for Madison Square. He had with him $15 in American currency in an inside pocket.

This would be equivalent to ~$44 at the of David's death in 1956 or ~$345 in current dollars.

To be continued...
And find more fascinating posts at Sepia Saturday blog

Some of these photos were borrowed from the following sites:

www.gjenvick.com

fisherfamily.za.net

www.shtetlinks.jewishgen.org

www.eh.lt

commons.wikimedia.org

www.thefullwiki.org

maggieblanck.com

ephemeralnewyork.wordpress.com

Sepia Saturday: Finding Lost Treasure Pt. 4

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

We join David's family as they continue their cross-country wandering as the patriarch Ben-Zion tries to find success in supporting his family of six...

The pogrom

Economic conditions after the pogroms of 1881 went from bad to worse for Ben-Zion Blumenfeld. The new police restriction on the people from different provinces...became effective through the Ignatiev May Laws of 1882 imposed by Czar Alexander III.... Under such restrictions Ben-Zion had to move back to [the province of] Courland, in Latvia, with his family....

He began making every possible effort to raise enough money for transportation to Riga. His eldest son, David, who was working at tailoring, got a job in Libau.


In the meantime Ben-Zion corresponded with some friends in America. They had left [David's birthplace] Tukums, Latvia, for America two years before and were in Michigan. They advised Ben-Zion to come there, saying “America is the land which the gods have built, a continent of glory, filled with untold treasure and here is ample opportunity for you as well.” ...It came about that in April 1883, Ben-Zion packed his satchel with his little earthly treasures, including a new blue velvet talis sack, wherein he kept his prayer shawl, tefillin, skullcap and prayerbook, and he departed for America with high hopes...

Talis bag

Tefillin (on the man's forehead)

Before one could emigrate from Russia many painful and costly formalities had to be observed. A passport obtained through the governor was speeded on its way by sundry tips. It was an expensive document without which no Russian could leave the town.

David's diary does not describe how Ben-Zion gets to America, including the transoceanic trip, but one can imagine the sordid conditions.


On arriving in Ludington, Michigan, his friend Jacob Bloomstock backed Ben-Zion financially for a stock of Yankee notions and tinware, and he blossomed out as a merchant, peddling among the sparsely settled villages, as was the custom of most of the newcomers in those days.

Back in Latvia, the rest of the family waited news of his success...

Jewish peddler in Michigan

To be continued...

And find more fascinating posts at Sepia Saturday blog

Some of these photos were borrowed from the following sites:

http://dancutlermedicalart.com/AlbertEinstein'sZionism/02Einstein'sZionism1879-1899.htm

http://www.latvians.com/en/Reading/RigaNatlEncy/riga1897.php

http://wilnoworcester.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talis_bag

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tefillin

Sepia Saturday: Finding Lost Treasure Pt. 3

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

Tukums, Latvia

A few years pass for Leah Blumenfeld, my great-great-grandmother, and her baby David. It is now around 1870, in Tukums, Latvia...

[Her father] Yanke Hennes had a premonition that something unusual was going to happen in his house this Passover, and with this idea in his mind he was worried all day.

Coming home from evening prayers in the synagogue, Yanke Hennes closed all the windows and shutters carefully, drew down all shades inside, and bolted all doors of the house before taking his seat at the table, for the Damascus Blood Accusation of 1840 was still fresh in the minds of European Jewry ...local communities [still] had to be very careful so as not to incite and to guard against mob violence which was a favorite pastime during Passover week.

Propaganda cartoon depicting the alleged ritual murder of a Damascus Catholic priest by Jews

No sooner had Yanke Hennes ended his Seder singing than there was a soft thud at the door. Yanke Hennes’ heart leaped to his throat for a moment and his face paled. … A second, more harsh knock on the door was heard, and a voice was heard saying, "This is Ben-Zion! Open the door, do not be afraid, this is me!"
With a trembling hand Yanke Hennes unbolted the door. He could hardly believe his own eyes when he beheld Ben-Zion standing there before him. There was an outcry in the room and Leah ran to meet him, falling in his embrace. They both wept and covered each other with kisses.

...Leah was quickly disillusioned and the light of joy soon left her eyes when she took a good look at her husband Ben-Zion, so shockingly changed and no more the man he was before. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes were dim, his entire frame weak and emaciated from the hunger and privation he had endured while in the service.

Ben-Zion was born in 1839, in Koenigsberg, Prussia, now Kaliningrad.

Koenigsberg, Prussia

The only thing he had gained during his four years in the army was knowledge of the tinsmith trade. He had become a good mechanic and, as an honorably discharged solider, had full right to ply his trade anywhere in the empire. Thus he hoped to begin life anew. ...As Ben-Zion had no capital to open a shop and wait until trade should come his way, he decided to become a trader among the peasants in the nearby country villages. He began his life plodding through the country, but he could not make it go. ...He was unfortunate in his business ventures, failure seemed to follow in his wake.

The Ingulez River today, Ukraine

...Ben-Zion moved his family to Zagradovka, near the city of Kherson, in the Ukraine. There he bought out a small flour mill situated on the snaky, treacherous Ingulez River, which was operated by water power, and took to grinding grist and flour. He enjoyed a large patronage from the neighboring peasants and it looked for a time as if Ben-Zion was on the way to financial success. In the spring of the third year, quick thawing of the unusually heavy snow of the winter and heavy spring rains caused the river to swell and overflow its banks. It submerged thousands of acres of early seeded wheat and rye and undermined hundreds of frail farmhouses and sheds.

After the water receded it was seen how the ice had broken up and carried away the entire mill. ...All his hard labor and savings were wiped out by the flood.
...Ben-Zion saw slim chance for a living, so he decided to go to the Crimea where competition was not quite so hard. He hoped to build up a trade, as he was a good worker...

Melitopol, Ukraine

Melitopol was surrounded with large suburban villages on three sides and the river Molochna on the fourth side, spanned by a drawbridge for entrance into the city. Ben-Zion decided to locate there. With difficulty he succeeded in borrowing sufficient capital to open a small tinshop. In a few years he went bankrupt. Despite his persistent efforts, he barely succeeded in keeping himself and family afloat and always felt that his life was a failure, despite the fact that he had worked hard.

By this time there were four children.

...In order to reduce expense at home Ben-Zion decided that David [the eldest, my great-grandfather] ought to learn a trade wherewith he could earn a living independently, though he was only ten years old. [ed.: Thus it is now 1875.] The father contracted him as an apprentice to a master tailor named Bradsky for five years.

...Ben-Zion had one hope. He heard so much of America, the “land of the free,” where everyone might enjoy the reward of his labor, and as the old rabbis have said, “change of location leads to change of luck,” that he urged Leah to bear up with patience. ...They determined with all the power at their command to see America some day.



To be continued...
And find more fascinating posts at Sepia Saturday blog

Some of these photos were borrowed from the following sites:

http://www.panoramio.com/photo/22549824

longstreet.typepad.com

Sepia Saturday: Finding Lost Treasure Pt. 2

My great-grandfather David was up early every morning to write, continuing for hours in the back room of the menswear store he owned. The diary I discovered never mentions his working on eight novels, four novellas, and 900 pages of rhyming couplets based on the Bible.

The two volumes of the Diary

David's “real life” as a writer seemed to be disrupted by the day-to-day business of actually living, though ironically this was what he documented in hindsight in the Diary. The inner drive of a Wallace Stevens or William Carlos Williams, both professional men as well as poets, was present in David but he did not have their education, their facility with English, nor their abundant income as insurance executive and doctor. But David did do wonders, considering his hardships of birth and later circumstance.

First page of the diary;David describes his mother Leah (using the alias Lenetta)
as she was around 1865 (approx. 16 years old!)

"Lenetta" (aka his mother Leah) could have been sitting in the house on the left

“They represented a conglomeration of races, Mongolian, Kirghiz, Kalmuk, Tartar, German and Russian from many far-off provinces, most of them hardly understanding one another, for all were unfamiliar with any language except their mother tongue. ...Many of the poor recruits did not understand their officers’ commands. The corporal would hit some poor boy under the chin hard enough to make his teeth rattle. Those military officers were steeped in brutality, and always grumbled about their work, uttering vulgar names especially to the small Jewish boys, 'cantonists,' whom they were trying to convert to Christianity by forced orders from the Czar."

Cantonists

The Czar; frontispiece of the Diary

“…During the previous four years Russia had fought a losing war in the Crimea and paid heavily and dearly in gold and lives. Thousands upon thousands, especially Jewish soldiers, passed through those portals from which there was no return, for they, above all others, were recruited for the firing line."

Lenetta laments, “…. My sole provider, my husband dear Ben-Zion, was snatched away by the ‘catchers’ on that fatal night, pressing him into the army for 25 years. The ‘catchers’ said he will only be there until we can procure a substitute. God only knows when I will be able to buy one. My father Yanke Hennes is rich, but oh God, so miserly! He says everything must be for the Ben Yochid, his only son. My dear husband Ben-Zion may be sent far away. I may never hear from him again.”

"Yanke Hennes of Tukums was one of the most prominent and outstanding citizens. He enjoyed the reputation of being a good man, for his sterling qualities of character and honesty, strict religious life and prompt observance of all Jewish traditions captured the respect and administration of all. He owned a large number of houses on the market row front where he had a large corner store, where he conducted a large business in shoemaker’s, harness-maker’s and cobbler’s leather supplies. ... He rose punctiliously every morning at 6 a.m., going to the early service in the synagogue where he was quite a pillar. After prayer service he always devoted half an hour to his reading of the Talmud, coming home by 8 a.m., eating his frugal breakfast and going to his daily business. He was blessed with four rosy-cheeked daughters and one baby boy, to his great delight. Yanke Hennes was very reactionary and set in his ways. He held to the ancient rabbinical injunction, 'the one that teaches his daughters the Torah is like teaching her unworthiness.' He did not believe in any book learning whatsoever for girls.

"...[He] decided that Lenetta should open a bakery to support herself and her child. He owned a cottage at the rear of his house. It was called the Herberig [sic]. It contained two large rooms. In one there was a classroom, for he had a special private teacher for his dear son Ben Yochid, for higher Talmudic training. In the other room he fitted up a bakery with all the utensils needed. Poor Lenetta slaved long and hard kneading large trays of dough, making all sorts of bread and selling it every morning.

The square today

"At the time when Ben-Zion was forcibly made to enter the army, he was sent away into Chersonky (Kherson) Gubermin, in the southern Ukraine. Being very religiously disposed, he would not eat the regular army mess, for it was not kosher. It was his lot to be apprenticed in the army tinsmith shop as a helper. He was not inclined to adopt himself to conditions. He was given the hardest work, which his frail strength could hardly endure, but his hope, soon to be discharged, to go home and embrace his dear Lenetta and his baby boy, whom he had never seen, gave him strength and courage to endure all punishments."

Kherson town square, late 18th century

To be continued...

And find more fascinating posts at Sepia Saturday blog

Some of these photos were borrowed from the following sites:
http://www.milechai.com/jewishbooks/cantonist_review.html
http://www.abcgallery.com/A/alekseev/alekseev1.html

Sepia Saturday: Finding Lost Treasure

Blumenfeld store, St. Paul Minnesota, 1950s

Around 1977, my mother inherited a collection of novels her grandfather David Blumenfeld had written. His assumption had been that as a published, award-winning writer, she would appreciate his work and know what to do with it. However, she looked at a couple of the novels, dismissed them as amateur works, and resealed the box. After a few years, she asked me whether I wanted to take custody of the manuscripts. I knew little about him other than he was a haberdasher in St. Paul, Minnesota and had a book or two vanity-published. Collector that I am, I jumped at the chance to check out these manuscripts. However, I had much the same reaction: I thumbed through a few volumes, and disappointedly resealed the box as a curiosity that someday I would delve into further.

David, my mother and elder brother, circa 1924

Dissolve to 2008. We were in the process of moving, and I was triaging boxes the basement. I finally took a look at the Blumenfeld cache. The titles (such as A Torn Family Reunited, A Woman’s Grit, and The Tigress-Hearted Mother) and the opening paragraphs sounded very old-fashioned. They read like treatments of silent movies, with broad characters (the wicked shiksa, the humble Jewish peasant who rises to be a New World captain of industry, the betrayed spouse, the wise rabbi) and they had melodramatic, wildly improbable plots of biblical convolution and moralization.

Suddenly I did a double-take — the title of the next manuscript read simply Diary.

In the last several years I had become a genealogy buff, and this was just the thing to jolt me awake. Was it really a diary, or was it just an uncharacteristically short title for another novel?

At first, it did not take diary form or tone, but read like an historical novel. I was suspicious but intrigued: while not recognizing any of the names, slowly I realized that many details matched the little I knew of my mother's ancestors. I then saw that the next manuscript in the box was Part Two of Diary. I could see that it segued about halfway through into pure journal form and by the end was using names I recognized: David’s sons and daughters, Al, Belle, Helen, and Mose, and my mother’s cousin Lorraine — although the hero and his wife retained the false names “Nate” and “Rosaline.” I dropped everything and began to read from the beginning in earnest.

I soon found that no one — not David’s immediate family, nor any living descendents — had had any inkling of the existence of the diary. My mother had not gotten that far in the box. Neither Beth’s late cousin Belle nor her husband Abe had mentioned it. It was like I had uncovered the Dead Sea Scrolls.



To be continued...