Family Matters

I received an email from my aunt this week -- she received a wonderful gift from her granddaughter entitled “Grandma Tell Me Your Story.” This is a familiar book about family history. Unfortunately, my aunt was number 10 of 12 and by the time that her solid memories were formed, her father was in the VA hospital after suffering a stroke. Her memories of him were through a glass window, as her mother told her to wave to him. He never came back home and with a family that size, survival was their highest priority. Children married, had children, moved away and gathered together for baptisms, confirmations, and funerals. My mother's family lived in Detroit and for us, the trip was an infrequent affair.

My aunt was plagued with easy questions like what her father did for a living, when did he come here from Germany, what were his parents names? Easy questions you might think, but how often are we given the opportunity to hear their stories and miss? If I think back at my missed opportunities, I have to admit that there were very many. As usual, I was probably more concerned about what was going on now, instead of what happened way back when. However, one time, while driving through Rockfield (WI) my father remembered about the German POW's that were housed at the canning factory! What? I wished I would have asked more questions because years later I learned from my uncle that my grandfather and great-grandfather were crew chiefs for these POW's that worked in the fields. He didn't remember if my father worked with them also but did remember reading the paper (in German) to the prisoners over the fence. What a story! What a story I missed. Dad, what was it like to be so close to these people from a foreign country? Did they tell you how much they missed their families and were frightened for their safety?

Life stories live on within our traditions, thought patterns, and personalities. I know that my sense of adventure is from my father's ever inquirying mind -- he never passed a brochure without picking it up and saving for a time when he'd be able to visit the obsecure sites. My emotions -- yes, my mother. Before she became ill she was a loving woman, ready to take in any stray (two and four-legged). But what do I know about their lives, how they found strength through their struggles, how they celebrated their successes? Mom, how did you get over missing your mother?

I've pieced together some of the puzzle through Ellis Island archives and other online genealogical sources, and found that my grandfather traveled to the US in steerage with $257 in his pocket. He settled in the Detroit area and when World War I broke out he joined the US Army to secure his citizenship. How he met my grandmother is a mystery, as she arrived from Poland at the age of 2 with her mother and brother (her father had immigrated earlier) and lived in the Pittsburgh area. How did she get to Michigan and meet my grandfather?



It's too late to ask them questions now, in any form other than in prayer but perhaps for those of you that are reading this, you'll be inspired to ask your parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles what was life like when they were growing up.