Farewell, my homeland

Bags packed. Ready to go. Hugs, and tears and kisses all around. “I’ll write as soon as I can,” Lisi says to her father, sisters and brother.

“Safe journey,” they say. “Come back to us.” “We’ll miss you so.”

I can imagine the scene when my grandmother, Elisabetha (Lisi) Ebner departed to meet her love, my grandfather, Josef, in Chicago--a century ago this summer, but I didn’t know the exact date she actually left her hometown of Grosspold, Austro-Hungary (now Romania)  for America. I had the date and time of her arrival in New York as well as the ship on which she arrived -- she wrote those details on the back of a postcard, which I’ll share in a future post.

But then I found the tiny book, just 2.5” wide, 4” tall, with its stark, unlabeled, black leather cover.

When I had first perused the pages, (when? Ages ago!)  lined like graph paper, it seemed a record primarily of addresses and unrelated numbers. With scores of letters waiting to be deciphered, I decided decoding the little book wasn’t a priority.

Lisi Ebner's diary. The right side is where I believe she started
the notes of her trip,  8/22/1911, and added details about her ship
on the left, probably after arriving in Bremen.

But recently I looked at it again -- and with an eye more trained in the old writing, I knew I had another example of my grandmother’s amazing compulsion to record her life.

On the first facing page, (which is where I believe she started her notes), I made out the following:

Am 22 August:     On August 22nd
Koffer:                 suitcase
Bahnhof:              train station
9 Uhr 1911:         9:00 [a.m.]  1911 in BIG LETTERS
Amerika:             The major  clue that I was onto something.

It was Lisi’s diary of her train trip from Grosspold to Bremen. I scanned it immediately and sent it off for “decoding" to my ninety-year-old German Rosetta Stone in Germany.  I’ve translated as best I could a rather confusing conglomeration of train schedules, addresses, expenses, and, possibly, an early version of networking.

But the first few pages are clear. Here’s what she wrote:

On the 22nd of August, 1911, I brought my suitcase to the Grosspold Train station at 9:00.

Contents:
6 large pillow cases
1 small pillow case
Many photographs
7 matching hand towels,
3 matching hand towels, one red, one white one blue
3 table towels
Two white napkins
6 blue napkins
1 cabinet towel (perhaps like a doily for a dresser?)
1 linen towel - just beginning work on it (perhaps a decorative cover for a dresser or cabinet. Perhaps she had begun to crochet the edges, or embroider a design onto a corner something she did all her life
A city map of Vienna
A map of Austria
A joke book (Could it be the book of jokes and songs that my grandfather, Josef, had created in the summer of 1910 (See the post,  Drafted 100 Years Ago).

Elisabetha (Lisi) Ebner
in Grosspold "costume" 1910

A Grosspold Costume without the shirt (probably just the skirt and apron. Here she is in her “Grosspold Costume,” at left.

My guess is that this is only one of several suitcases or trunks she took along, for it's only homemaking or practical items.

But it's the first step in a 5,000 mile journey to meet my grandfather, Josef Gärtz.  On the way, she will keep track of every stop the train makes, how much she spends on food, small gifts, and souvenirs.

She writes little of what she sees, and nothing of emotions or impressions. Perhaps it was too hard, at that time, to express herself in writing, having had so little opportunity to practice. I doubt she had written much beyond lists, basic instructions, and the letters to Josef since she had left school after the fourth grade. Her life had been filled with “productive” work. Time to just “write” for pleasure or art was non-existent--and probably never even occurred to her. Yet she was compelled to write, and here began her penchant for recording details and eventually evolving into a prolific correspondent that kept her in touch with loved ones for nearly seven decades.

In future posts we’’ll follow Lisi on her journey, and find out how Mrs. Jickeli, her former employer, even after her departure, took care of important business for Lisi.

The Pocket Watch and the Packing List

The pocket watch lay in Box 14 for the past seventeen years--and untold decades prior--in my grandparents' cedar chest. I had assumed it was my grandfather’s watch, but didn’t know when he had acquired it. Its wide, crisply-numbered face and long gold chain made me wish I had a small pocket in which I could carry it, so I could take it out on occasion to look at the time, just like in the old movies. But that was impractical, if not impossible. I’ve come across this watch numerous times as I’ve revisited Box 14 to confirm a date, find a letter, marvel at all my grandmother saved. But recently I’ve discovered a previously unknown document that makes the pocket watch even more precious. More on that later.

Song Book of Josef Gärtz

Also housed in Box 14 is a collection of German song books. Embossed on the front of one are my grandfather’s initials (“J.G."  for Josef Gärtz). It is actually a church hymn book, for the title page reads (in translation): The Song Book of the Evangelical Community Church in the Siebenbürgen section of Hungary. But what has brought these items to discussion on this post is a connect-the-dots sort of discovery that imbues these objects with extra meaning.

I have written in a previous post ("Crossing in Winter") that Josef had made his last diary entry about his trip to America, when he described the brutal winter Atlantic crossing he embarked upon on New Year’s Eve, 1910. But he actually did write in the diary again--two months later. After arriving in America on January 11, 1911, Josef traveled to Cleveland, Ohio, where he met up with a family from his home town of Neppendorf. He made one more entry, dated: Cleveland, February 20, 1911, a century ago. It was a packing list.

Given he had written it more than a month after his arrival in America, I can surmise one of two things from this list. Either he had carried these items along on the ship and decided a month and a half later to simply write down everything he had brought or, perhaps, he had shipped them separately and recorded them as he unpacked. I’m inclined to believe the latter because of the quantity of items and the weight. He was a carpenter, so it was essential to bring along tools of his trade if he were to earn a living, and this list proves he did just that.

Josef Gartz's list of packed items made 2/20/1911

Upon reading it, I had an “Aha” moment. Perhaps you, like I, can look at this list and try to imagine what you would choose to start life anew in a 5,000-mile distant land, probably never to return home.
Most importantly, that shiny gold pocket watch had new cachet because it is an artifact from Josef's origins, a constant reminder to him of "home." And although I knew the song/hymn book originated in Siebenbürgen, its pedigree and connection to our family’s past is made all the more real by seeing its inclusion on a list, written in his own hand.

Here’s the translation of Josef’s packing list, not necessarily in the same order, compressed for space.

Cleveland  2/20/1911

2 overcoats
5 shirts; 1 umbrella
4 work shirts; 2 pairs shoes
2 undershirts; 1 pair slippers
6 underpants; 1 pair rubber boots
8 pair socks; 1 pocket watch with chain
1 fur collar; 1 bed cover
1 cap; 1 hair comb
3 hats; 1 mirror
14 handkerchiefs; 2 song books
2 suitcases
11 ties; 1 silver razor
2 Undercoats? (perhaps an extra layer -- like a sweater)
2 pair pants

Separately, he listed “Werkzeuge”--Tools:

“press” (perhaps a vice)
2 squares
4 chisels or crow bars
1 handax
2 hammers
3 saws
1 screwdriver
1 plane
1 compass

Now that Josef had his tools and was settled in a bit, it was
time to turn his attention to persuading the love of his life, Lisi Ebner, to join him. Their 100-year-old letters, coming up, show us how it was done.

The Road to Sibiu- Travel Tuesday

My cousin, Maria and I flew out of Stuttgart on September 16, 2007, and landed in Bucharest as the sunset washed the countryside in an peachy glow. At a nearby hotel, we met my two brothers, Paul and Bill, and Bill’s wife. The next morning, we squished five people and their luggage into a mini-van and took off for Hermannstadt (Sibiu), the big city near the two small towns, Neppendorf and Grosspold, which were the original homes to my grandfather and grandmother, respectively.

Peles Castle in Sinaei, Romania

On the way, we stopped for a few hours in Sinaei (named after Mt. Sinai, of Ten Commandments fame) to view Peles Castle on a perfect blue-sky day, crossing a brook, having wine on a terrace overlooking the castle, laughing and telling jokes and stories about our childhood.

Continuing on to Sibiu/Hermannstadt, the going was slow as the major highway was under reconstruction (roads and streets were ripped apart everywhere in an effort to rebuild a country that had been working for almost two decades   to overcome the neglect and brutalization under Ceausescu).

Scenes along the road were of another era. Passing through one small town near sunset, we yielded to cows on the highway driven home  from the pastures. Old women in their babushkas and long skirts sat at the side of the road, perhaps waiting for loved ones to return from the fields or watching the world go by.

We arrived at 9 p.m. in Sibiu, exhausted after about ten hours of travel, but were rewarded with dinner in a cellar restaurant with ancient brick domed walls, entertained by the musical duo pictured here. Lots of meat and salads of tomatoes and onions were typical menu choices.

We overnighted right next to the Evangelische Kirche Neppendorf, (Lutheran Church in Neppendorf) where the Gärtz family had worshipped for two centuries. In the next few posts, we'll see the  secrets this church yielded to expose unknown family  history.

Travel Tuesday-Transylvania Sights & Family Secrets

Welcome to the first post for “Travel Tuesday.” I plan to use Tuesdays to highlight the roots-finding trip my brothers and I made to Transylvania, Romania, in September, 2007. I’ve suggested this topic to Genea-bloggers as another possible prompt to which others may wish to contribute about genealogy research trips they have taken, and/or to highlight the lands of their ancestors.

Transylvanian Countryside

One of the scores of horse-drawn carts in Transylvania

A Breathtaking Land


The theme of Travel Tuesday is two-fold. One is to introduce my wonderful readers to the not-yet-fully discovered, gorgeous region of Transylvania in Romania. Some of the places we visited are as beautiful, historic, and fascinating as any destination in Europe. Romania is caught in a bit of a time-warp. We saw scenes every day that one would have to go back forty to sixty years to see in Western Europe: ubiquitous horse-drawn carts hauling harvests on the secondary highways, men actually cutting grass with scythes in the fields, cone-shaped haystacks out of another time, parents and youngsters working side-by-side to harvest potatoes. Breath-taking mountains and valleys, dotted with farms and grazing animals, created an unfolding panorama, a new view around each bend.

Ubiquitous cone-shaped haystacks squat throughout
the countryside

Gleaning Genealogical Treasures on a Roots-finding Journey


The second theme is to share the genealogical discoveries such a trip afforded us, which I hope will encourage others to travel to their ancestors’ native lands, if for no other reason than to breathe the air, and be part of the geography in which previous generations lived. In some places, this is no longer possible, so much was destroyed in the wars or built up with 20th century sprawl. But some vestige of the past probably remains that your imagination can latch onto as we all love to envision the reality of our ancestors’ lives.

So I’ve used up most of my words today just introducing this idea, but will begin next week where my my journey to Romania began: in Crailsheim, Germany, where the present-day Gärtz family, my cousins, settled after leaving Romania.

Family Resemblance


In my previous post, I wrote about my 1995 trip to meet these relatives for the first time in my life. The goal of my most recent visit in 2007, twelve years after the first, was to visit again with a part of the family that had actually lived and grown up in interview the elder Gärtz, Hans, and find out what I could about my grandfather and life in Romania.

Hans Gärtz and me. Hans's grandfather
was my grandfather's half-brother

I was struck, as Hans spoke to me, how much his gestures resembled those of my grandfather, Josef. Just like Josef, Hans used his hands, often spreading the fingers wide, palms down, to emphasize a point, leaning back, then forward in his chair, as he shared stories from Neppendorf, the little town he and my grandfather’s called home.

Like Josef, Hans laughed easily and had a quick sense of humor, Hans didn’t know Josef, who had emigrated before he was born, but Hans’s father, knew him. “Josef was always full of silliness,” his father had recalled. Same guy I knew -- always sticking his false teeth out at us grandkids to get a laugh.

Critical Family History Details Revealed in Interview


Hans’s interview, two years before I found Josef’s diary, was the first time I had heard that Josef had left Romania on Christmas Eve, and that he didn’t have the proper papers to leave. “He just wanted to go,” Hans said, “and didn’t want to wait.” When I found the diary, corroborating the Christmas Eve departure, combined with Hans’s story about missing papers (not mentioned in the diary) it was like the click of a lock. I knew I had important details, which explained why Josef had to escape detection at the borders. Without the Hans interview, I would have been left wondering what that was all about.

Lesson: interview your relatives!

So, dear readers, in order to keep these posts brief and readable in everyone's limited time, I’ll continue the Romania story on Travel Tuesdays over the next several months.