Fanny Rosenberg (Waldstein) - Emigrating from Russia

The short answer is, "yes" ( I do know).

Seriously, most of the family was living in a smaller town/shtetl known as Yedinitz. Jedinitz, as many spelled it, is northwest of Kishenev. It's now known as Edinet, Moldova. My grandpa Frank and all his siblings were born there. So were many of his Waldstein cousins. Although, I've heard things that might have suggested that they went back through Kishenev on the way to America.

They departed from Hamburg to New York City on May 24th, 1902, arriving on Jun 3rd, 1902. So they arrived exactly 10 months before the first pogrom. Some Waldsteins arrived earlier than the Rosenbergs, others afterward.Three were in NYC originally, with the fourth family in Hamilton, Ontario.

NYC had a Bessarabian Society that was acutely aware of the Pogroms and lobbied Congress to take action. There also was one family story that my dad had passed down to me about Avrum Rosenberg (Fanny's husband) regarding the pogroms and an incident in Central Park. He shared it as it had been shared with him, by his father.

All of Buntze's children were also born in Yedinitz. Although, I don't have the documentation yet for Anna, I do for Ben and some of the younger ones. I'm also not sure if Buntze was born in Kishenev. I have the feeling she was.

I hope that this gives you a good picture of what was going on. They survived and left a fairly hostile Russian environment. Zierler's and Kalischman's predated most of the Rosenberg's in the US in 1900 and Elick's children (the ones in Hamilton), were the last.

Thanks Eugene... this explains some of the items I have in my possession. I was told that my family could not leave with German money when emigrating, or not much money any way. So I have a German bread knife that I was told was purchased before leaving Germany. This could explain a lot.

This is great info. I often wonder when it is time for us to leave the USA. What are the signs when enough is enough... and then they came for me? My wife just directed this play, "And then they came for me" about Anne Frank's life as told by two survivors. She's looking to get funding to take this around to all the public schools in Oregon as it is now required curriculum to teach about the Holocaust.

Our family is similar to what we've seen in Fiddler on the Roof.

Gary,

Much like Fiddler on the Roof, there is a story of a second great uncle making his way across Europe pushing a wheelbarrow. Along with the rest of his family, by foot Some stories are exaggerated, but some contain a hint of truth.

While I hate to disappoint, I've technically, already left the USA. I'm living across the river from Ottawa, ON, CA, right now. For me, along with other reasons, the time was right. However, I already held dual citizenship, since my maternal grandmother's family first moved to Montreal, by way of England. They also originated from a Russian territory. So my mom was a natural born Canadian, qualifying me for citizenship.

There is definitely a great deal of the "Fiddler" story that applies to "Russian" family. the stories of the Pogroms, rotten and rabid antisemitism, and dealing with adversity are embedded throughout out collective history. It's the rich history which is part of the reason why the Sholem Alechem story holds such meaning to all of us.

I too, have things passed down that were brought over. A tin box with Russian writing over it, my grandfather's ornate pewter tea cup holder, and tefillin from the old country. It's amazing to see what carried great significance to them. I've heard of other family artifacts handed down in other branches of our family, as well. There is definitely a story to be told here.

In most of our history, people have likened the Jews to all sorts of infestations. Repeatedly my response is that we as Jews have no choice, but to seek areas that are safe, legal, and there is opportunity to better our family's lives. It is not that we invade territory to overtake, but to exist and survive. Throughout my research I've found instances where family did just that. In one case, it was even documented that a direct ancestor was the first legal Jewish settler in a Hungarian city. I think it's amazing, the things you find delving into our history.

This discussion is so fascinating! This side of our family was unknown to us for so long. My grandmother, Anna Baum Kalischman passed away when I was 3, before my brother and sister were born. My mother didn't know very much about her family. I think her parents really wanted to assimilate into American life - though my grandfather Max read The Forward his whole life.

Lorri,

My Grandpa Frank died a few years before I was born. One of the things that always made me curious was the need and drive towards assimilation. The mixed feeling of giving up the old ways and becoming "heathens" in the new world.
I've had friends explain to me that most immigrants that arrive here after or around the age of Bar Mitzvah, generally speak with an accent from the country of their birth. I've asked many people if they ever noticed an accent with Grandpa Frank. Not a single person I've spoken with had.
I wonder if he and his family had drilled it into them or whether the pressure to assimilate drove it from him. There are so many unanswered questions...

I don't think I have a single artefact from the old country, from any of the branches of my family.

It kind of makes sense: The immigrating generation (I mean the one fleeing the pogroms of the 1880s) often had lots of children, and though subsequent generations have had fewer, it still adds up in a multiplicative fashion; if there's only three artefacts from the old country but nearly a hundred descendants, you'd be lucky to own one...

(It doesn't help that my parents (and my brothers) have/had a rather lacklustre attitude towards family heirlooms.)

The closest I've seen is my uncle's ring, made from the single nugget of gold that was the result of my great-grandfather going to California to join the 49ers a little late (and even then my uncle had it remodelled, to bear his initials rather than his grandfather's, which appalled me).

("A little late", meaning by more than half a century.)