Category Archives: family

Ellenbergs

I got a message last week from the husband of my first cousin once removed;  his father-in-law, Leonard Ellenberg, was my grandfather Julius Ellenberg’s brother.  I never knew my grandfather; he died before I was born, and I was named for him.

The message contained a huge amount of information about a side of my family I’ve never known well.  I’m still going through it all.  But I wanted to share some of it while it was on my mind.

Here’s the manifest for the voyage of the S.S. Polonia, which left Danzig on September 17, 1923 and arrived in New York on October 1.

owadias-ellenbergs-family-immgration-doc

Owadje Ellenberg (always known as Owadia in my family) was my great-grandfather.  He came to New York with his wife Sura-Fejga (known to us as Sara), Markus (Max), Etia-Race (Ethel), Leon (Leonard), Samuel and Bernard.  Sara was seven months pregnant with my uncle Morris Ellenberg, the youngest child.

Owadje gives his occupation as “mason”; his son Max, only 17, was listed as “tailor.”  They came from Stanislawow, Poland, which is now the city of Ivano-Frankivsk in Ukraine.  On the immigration form you had to list a relative in your country of origin; Owadje listed his brother, Zacharja, who lived on Zosina Wola 6 in Stanislawow.  None of the old street names have survived to the present, but looking at this old map of Stanislawow

stanislawow

it seems pretty clear Zosina Wola is the present day Yevhena Konoval’tsya Street.  I have no way of knowing whether the numbering changed, but #6 Yevhena Konoval’tsya St. seems to be the setback building here:

screen-shot-2017-03-03-at-3-mar-10-53-pm

So this is the best guess I have as to where my ancestors lived in the old country.  The name Zosina Wola lives on only in the name of a bar a few blocks down Yevhena Konoval’tsya:

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Owadje, now Owadia, files a declaration of intention to naturalize in 1934:

owadia-ellenbergs-naturalization-doc

His signature is almost as bad as mine!  By 1934 he’s living in Borough Park, Brooklyn, a plasterer.  5 foot 7 and 160lb; I think every subsequent Ellenberg man has been that size by the age of 15.  Shtetl nutrition.  There are two separate questions on this form, “color” and “race”:  for color he puts white, for race he puts “Hebrew.”  What did other Europeans put for race?  He puts his hometown as Sopoff, which I think must be the modern Sopiv; my grandmother Sara was from Obertyn, quite close by.  I guess they moved to the big city, Stanislowow, about 40 miles away, when they were pretty young; they got married there in 1902, when they were 21.  The form says he previously filed a declaration of intention in 1926.  What happened?  Did he just not follow through, or was his naturalization rejected?  Did he ever become a citizen?  I don’t know.

Here’s what his house in Brooklyn looks like now:

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Did you notice whose name was missing from the Polonia’s manifest?  Ovadje’s oldest son, my grandfather, Julius.  Except one thing I’ve learned from all this is that I don’t actually know what my grandfather’s name was.  Julius is what we called him.  But my dad says his passport says “Israel Ellenberg.”  And his naturalization papers

julius-ellenberg-naturalization-doc

have him as “Juda Ellenberg”  (Juda being the Anglicization of Yehuda, his and my Hebrew name.)  So didn’t that have to be his legal name?  But how could that not be on his passport?

Update:  Cousin Phyllis came through for me!  My grandfather legally changed his name to Julius on June 13, 1927, four months after he filed for naturalization.    

1927-juda-ellenberg

My grandfather was the first to come to America, in December 1920, and he came alone.  He was 16.  He managed to make enough money to bring the whole rest of the family in late 1923, which was a good thing because in May 1924 Calvin Coolidge signed the Johnson-Reed Act which clamped down on immigration by people thought to be debasing the American racial stock:  among these were Italians, Chinese, Czechs, Spaniards, and Jews, definitely Jews.

Another thing I didn’t know:  my grandfather lists his port of entry as Vanceboro, Maine.  That’s not a seaport; it’s a small town on the Canadian border.  So Julius/Juda/Israel must have sailed to Canada; this I never knew.  Where would he have landed? Sounds like most Canadian immigrants landed at Quebec or Halifax, and Halifax makes much more sense if he entered the US at Vanceboro.  But why did he sail to Canada instead of the US?  And why did he leave from France (the form says “Montrese, France,” a place I can’t find) instead of Poland?  (Update:  My cousin comes through again:  another record shows that Julius arrived on Dec 7, 1920 in St. John, New Brunswick, conveyed in 3rd class by the S.S. Corsican.  Looks like this ship would have been coming from England, not France;  I don’t know how to reconcile that.)

In 1927, when he naturalized, Julius lived at 83 2nd Avenue, a building built in 1900 at the boundary of the Bowery and the East Village.  Here’s what it looks like now:

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Not a lot of new immigrants able to afford rent there these days, I’m betting.  Later he’d move to Long Beach, Long Island, where my father and his sisters grew up.

My first-cousin-once-removed-in-law went farther back, too, all the way back to Mojżesz Ellenberg, who was born sometime in the middle of the 18th century.  The Hapsburg Empire required Jews to adopt surnames only in 1787; so Mojżesz could very well have been the first Ellenberg.  You may be thinking he’s Owadia’s father’s father’s father, but no — Ellenberg was Owadia’s mother’s name.  I was puzzled by this but actually it was common.  What it meant is that Mordko Kasirer, Owadia’s father, didn’t want to pay the fee for a civil marriage — why should he, when he was already married to Rivka Ellenberg in the synagogue?  But if you weren’t legally married, your children weren’t allowed to take their father’s surname.  So be it.  Mordko wasn’t gonna get ripped off by the system.  Definitely my relative.

Update:  Cousin Phyllis Rosner sends me my grandfather’s birth record.  At birth in Poland he’s Izrael Juda Ellenberg.  This still doesn’t answer what his legal name in the US was, but it explains the passport!

1904-izrael-juda-ellenberg-birth

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Marilyn Sachs, Amy and Laura, how to date a Communist

While I was in Seattle for the Joint Meeting, I stopped in to see my cousin Marilyn Sachs, the children’s author, who’s now 88.  She signed a copy of CJ’s favorite book of hers, Amy and Laura.  I re-read it on the plane and it made me cry just like it did when I was a kid.

We talked about writing and the past.  She and her husband, Morris, started dating in 1946, in Brooklyn.  Morris had recently returned from the war in the Pacific and was a Communist.  He thought movies were too expensive, so on their dates they went block to block ringing doorbells, trying to get signatures on a petition demanding that the Dodgers bring up Jackie Robinson from their minor-league affiliate in Montreal.  Now that is how you date, young people.

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“Losers often grow up to be writers”

My first cousin once removed Marilyn Sachs, on writing:

One final word of encouragement to those of you who are cowardly, cry babies, and liars, as I was. These are extremely promising qualities for future writers. If you are a coward, you will probably spend more time at the library than you would ordinarily, and if you tell lies, it just shows that you have an imagination even if others don’t always appreciate it. Cry babies tend to be sensitive, which is also a plus for writers. When I grew up, I found that I had become a great expert on bullies, and my books are full of them.

So, don’t feel you have to be smart, beautiful, brave and popular to become a writer. Or even to be a good speller. Losers often grow up to be writers, which means we have the final word.

Her books are mostly for kids.  Have you read them, parents?  Some of the classics:  Laura’s Luck (1965), my favorite alienated-kids-at-summer-camp book.  The Fat Girl (1984), a truly creepy YA novel about brutal psychosexual guerilla war in high school.  The Bear’s House (1972).  I remember almost nothing about this but just hearing the title makes me choke up so I know it was really sad.

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Letter from my great-grandfather

Last summer when I was at my Grandma Sylvia’s house in Tucson I copied out a handwritten letter her father, Jack Sussman, had written to her and her husband.  Here it is, for safekeeping.  Misspellings from the original.  My grandfather (also named Jack) had asthma, which is why they had moved to Tucson while my great-grandparents stayed in the Bronx.

June 12, 1944

Dear Sylvia and Jack,

First of all I want to apologize for not writing to you for such a long time. The family and I are in the Best of health. I ame also interested very much in Jacks health. I Believe that it is very important he should see a doctor more often. the same applies to you. Shirley is telling me that you dont look so good. I would like to mo wath is the matter with you. Mother and I would like to se you but it is too much expense we would rather se you come here.

I wish you a happy anniversary I hope that when your lease expires Jacks Sickness should also expire. love and kisses

Daddy

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Ask Uncle Quo: should I change my name when I get married?

Commenter RG asks:

Not relevant to this post, but curious to your thoughts: Debate is about a 26-28 year old woman who wants to keep her last name in marriage because of her professional identity. My response was to laugh, what identity do you have at that age? I said, sure there are a couple of hot shots – you came to mind – but I bet they could change their name to a peace symbol and still retain their professional identity. She’s not going into witness protection, FFS. curious what you think about name changes at marriage, reputation, and loss thereof? You seem like someone who would have considered it.

I wanna be like Cathy and answer random people’s questions on Sunday mornings!  In homage to Aunt Pythia I will answer as “Uncle Quo.”

Changing your name seems to me like it would be a massive gluteal agony.  Short answer, independent of any issues of professional identity:  Why would I ask my wife to do something I would never do myself in a million years?

Well, here’s one reason why:  there was a time and a place where not having the same name as your spouse was sufficiently weird that it carried with it its own long-term irritations.  But those days, in the social tranche where I hang out, are not just going, they are long, long gone.  As I said in the comments to the other thread, when I think about couples I know at UW, mostly in the “parents of young kids” demographic like me, it’s very hard for me to think of any who share a surname; the only example I can think of is a couple who both took a double surname (separated by a space, not a hyphen) with the wife’s original surname last.  When I think of couples I know in Madison outside the university, I do know some where the wife adopted the husband’s surname, but in each case they go by three names, no hyphen:  “firstname birthsurname newsurname.”

Professional identity:  in math, at any rate, of course this matters!  If you’re 28, you likely already have a Ph.D. and a couple of papers out, maybe you’re finishing a postdoc and you’re about to apply for tenure-track jobs, you’re going to be on a list of 400 applicants and you want someone on the hiring committee to recognize your name and look at your file, and you’re suddenly going to change your name to something nobody’s ever heard?

WonderWomanHellNo

 

As for me and Tanya, we got married 10 years ago and never considered changing names.  We had some vague idea of using my last name “socially” but we quickly realized there was no social situation where that felt appropriate.  Occasionally we get invited to a bar mitzvah by my older relatives on which Tanya is called by my last name.  And I changed my middle name on the Harvard alumni list to her last name.  Our kids have two middle names, the second of which is Tanya’s surname, and their surname is mine.  Nobody seems to be confused about the fact that we’re a family.

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Yossef Zisman, 1832-1925

 

This is my great great great grandfather, Yossef Zisman, who lived in Corjeuti, in what is now Moldova.  He died at 92 when his cart overturned in the snow and he was crushed by his own horse.YossefZisman

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My grandfather, Julius Ellenberg

He died a couple of years before I was born.  He was a dapper guy.  He went by “Joe,” and I’m named for him (in Hebrew we’re both “Yehuda.”)  I wonder how old he is in this picture?

bihjdbgb

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Mean beef stroganoff

You know, my mom is a distinguished scientist, and she, too, made a mean beef stroganoff when I was a kid.  Of course, it was “skid road stroganoff” from Peg Bracken’s classic I Hate To Cook Book, friend to working scientists of all genders with small kids and twenty minutes to get dinner on the table.  Wouldn’t it be great if that’s what Yvonne Brill made, too?  I truly love this dish and I make it for my own family every once in a while, but the sad truth is that only AB and I actually like it, and AB is not picky.  

Skid Road Stroganoff

8 ounces uncooked noodles (about 4 1/2 cups)
1 beef bouillon cube
1 garlic clove, minced
1/3 cup onion, chopped
2 tablespoons cooking oil
1 pound ground beef
2 tablespoons flour
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon paprika
Two 3-ounce cans mushrooms
1 can condensed cream of chicken soup, undiluted
1 cup sour cream
Chopped parsley

Start cooking those noodles, first dropping a bouillon cube into the noodle water. Brown the garlic, onion and crumbled beef in the oil. Ad the flour, salt, paprika, mushrooms and tomato paste, stir, and let it cook five minutes while you light a cigarette and stare sullenly at the sink. Then add the soup and simmer it – in other words, cook on low flame under boiling point – 10 minutes. Now stir in the sour cream – keeping the heat low, so it won’t curdle – and let it all heat through. To serve it, pile the noodles on a platter, pile the stroganoff mix on top of the noodles, and sprinkle chopped parsley around with a lavish hand.

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Most tech writers are single but most phone buyers aren’t

Matthew Yglesias, in Slate, says you’d have to be nuts to buy a phone on a contract:

If you buy a subsidized iPhone 5 from AT&T, the cheapest plan available costs $85 per month and only comes with 1 GB of data, a minimum of $2,040 over the two years of the contract. A basic T-Mobile unlimited voice plan with 2 GB of data costs $59.99 per month, $1,440 over the two years. In order to get that $450 iPhone discount, you would end up paying $600 more to AT&T over the life of the contract, and get less data….

Of course, customers have to actually recognize that the new deal is better. The subsidy model is basically a scam, but it only arose thanks to our own collective mental failings

All this is true — if you’re buying a single phone.

Otherwise, it’s wrong.

On the basic AT&T family plan with two lines, you get your $450 subsidy on both phones, and you pay $40 for voice plus $45 per phone; so $130 a month in all.  On T-Mobile, with no annual contract, you’re paying $120 per month for your two phones; the $240 in bills you save over the life of the 2-year contract doesn’t come close to making up the money you lose by forgoing the $900 phone subsidy.  AT&T has LTE coverage in major cities already, and Verizon has even more; T-Mobile doesn’t even start building LTE until next year.  Now the T-Mobile family will have 2GB of data each, but the AT&T family will have only 1GB to share.  1GB is fine for me and my wife (I’ve never used more than 300MB in a single month) but if you want more, you can get 4GB shared between the two phones for $150 a month.  You’re still coming out ahead on money, plus you can share your 4GB of data however you like instead of splitting it 2 and 2, and you’re on a faster network.  By the way, if you want tethering on T-Mobile, you’ll have to pay extra:  on AT&T’s contract, it comes with.

The details of the AT&T family plan aren’t really the point — the point is that people who write about tech are largely drawn from the universe of young single people.  What applies to them does not apply to everyone!

 

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Living in the future

I just learned that my father orders his breakfast cereal from Amazon.

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