Family History

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Over dinner Sunday night, my parents were in the mood to tell stories. They repeated for us, with my children at the table, tales of their parents and their parents’ parents – stories I know I have heard before but which somehow sounded new.

For example, my dad repeated the story of his father’s father who was a peddler. He died at the hand of a stray bullet during a gang fight. I didn’t know my great-grandfather and I have only some distant memories of my grandfather since he died when I was young.

My mom repeated the story of her father, who I knew very well. He died when I was midway through law school. My mom’s dad (we knew him as papa) was a happy soul, looking forward mostly to time with his family, children and grandchildren. As my mom tells the story, Papa grew up in an orphanage. His mom had passed and his father wasn’t capable of taking care of the children so they all wound up in different orphan homes. But once my grandfather was able to extricate himself from his orphanage, he went and found his siblings one by one and then took custody and care of them.

They say our history helps to shape the people we are today. Anyone care to share a family story?

Comments

Fred Klein

My mom told of how she went from home to home.
Mitch Tobol

My Grandfather shortened his name to Tobol, as the story is told, because he thought people wouldn't buy their drugs from a pharmacy with the name Tobolsky.

Submitted by Linda_Newman on Tue, 03/26/2013 - 03:27

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Linda Newman

My great grandfather's name was Kravitz but his friend couldn't write that in English, so it became Cohen. On the other side of the family, the name was Krugliakoff and that became Cook. My Grandmother's nick name was Cookie.

On the Newman side, the name was Neiman and there is a Neiman River in Hungary where my Paternal Grandfather came from. My Paternal Grandfather worked for the Department of Immigration as a translator and we have a picture of him from that era with Fiorello LaGuardia before he became Mayor.

There is a 1912 family wedding picture of about 100 people (before my father's was born) and Mayor LaGuardia attended the wedding. One of my father's first cousins became a U S. Court Appointed Supreme Court Judge under the Johnson Administration (Customs Court) If you are old enough, his name was Judge Bernie Newman. I saw him on the street one day on Fifth Avenue and said I was Dave Newman's daughter, he replied: "Are your the lawyer?" I said no, end of conversation. There's a whole branch of the family who became lawyers. I could go on, etc...

Submitted by NULL (not verified) on Tue, 03/26/2013 - 23:43

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I never knew any great-grandparents, and my maternal grandfather (whose name I carry) died young of a heart attack. He was a successful West End Avenue dentist and had put himself through Columbia Dental School by playing the violin professionally. His wife, my grandmother, graduated from Columbia law school in 1923, one of only a handful of women who managed to do that. On Father's side, my grandfather inherited a hat factory in Germany in the early 1920s, and prospered there before bringing the family back to the US in the 1930s. His wife was a Volga German, whose family had gone to live in Russia during the time of Peter the Great to build a Russian navy... they're still looking for a warm water port!

Submitted by Erik_Scheibe on Wed, 03/27/2013 - 00:21

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Erik Scheibe

If I did drugs...I would buy them from Mitch Tobolsky
Rona Gura

My brother, last night, felt the need to amuse my children with stories of some of mine and my sister's escapades in college (we went to the same school and were there together for a year). These are not the type of family stories I wanted to share.
Corey Bearak

I also lost my mom's dad while in law school. He was probably as great an influence on me as anyone. He was a beloved man by all accounts. Dad's dad dictated a family tree and his brief narrative to my step-mom who typed it up. Some parts we had to fill in. He only referred to a (car repair) garage he owned and operated in Harlem; turned out the shop armor-plated cars (think the 1920s and 30s)

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