Izzy’s Story
I’m the family historian. 10ish years ago I documented my mom’s and dad’s family trees. I talked with aunts and cousins, interviewed my grandparents, collected stories, documents and photos. I heard things I never knew from people I knew so well. I learned SO much, and strangely every time I go back to my research–I learn even more.
A branchy family tree chart is cool to look at, but what’s most fascinating are the stories. Immigrations, scrappiness, war, survival. It’s nothing like life today, and it’s amazing.
SO! As family historians are apt to do, I want to share some stories. And as non-family historians are likely to do, you might not care. But these big lives, boiled down into a few simple blog posts I’ll be writing are incredible, so near and dear to me, and worthy of capturing.
I bet you never dreamed you’d be shared across the Internet, Grandpa Izzy, but here we go.
A branchy family tree chart is cool to look at, but what’s most fascinating are the stories. Immigrations, scrappiness, war, survival. It’s nothing like life today, and it’s amazing.
SO! As family historians are apt to do, I want to share some stories. And as non-family historians are likely to do, you might not care. But these big lives, boiled down into a few simple blog posts I’ll be writing are incredible, so near and dear to me, and worthy of capturing.
I bet you never dreamed you’d be shared across the Internet, Grandpa Izzy, but here we go.
My great grandpa Izzy (my dad’s dad’s dad) was born in Ludg/Lodz, Poland in 1897. His dad was a teacher to Jewish families in the community. Izzy was the youngest of 6. The family was poor, living in a two room house with scarce food, no electricity and clothes patched together. Izzy’s father was religious and believed what the family didn’t have now, they’d be blessed with in an afterlife. Izzy didn’t believe that.
In 1905 Izzy was 7. The Polish people revolved against Russian power. Izzy’s older brother, 19 at the time, was killed participating in the political movement. Izzy remembers the funeral and his family hiding out after when Russians came in to reestablish power.
When he was 13 his dad told him he was an adult, and to go find work. He was hired as an apprentice at an iron shop in town. Soon he met the owner’s daughter, Rivka/”Regina”. She was 12 at the time. It was love at first sight.
Poland began to establish its own government and draft soldiers of Izzy's age. His parents urged him to register as they would be fined if he didn’t. He was against war, but registered. His name was called to join, but when lining up at a drafting event, he snuck away when officers weren’t looking. He spent some time in hiding, eventually using some of Regina’s money to pay a smuggler to take him to the Poland/German border for escape.
For the next decade he worked in a variety of jobs, traveling often to find work (Belgium, Germany, France) but always returning home “to see my honey”. He faked being German (he spoke Yiddish, close to German) to get a job in a lumber mill making trench bunkers for German soldiers during WWI. He watched as weary soldiers came in to rest and witnessed a tired soldier refusing orders to get back to work be marched to a wall in front of the group by a commanding officer, shot and killed.
Europe post WWI was in a depression, finding work was hard. Izzy would use the local Jewish Federation in each new city he traveled to to find work and a flat to rent. Even then he was often turned down. “German Jews didn’t like ‘Eastern’ Jews (Polish/Russian). German Jews had assimilated and they thought we were uncivilized.” He was able to barely find work, “I made a good impression on people, I was honest”.
Izzy settled in Paris and sent for Regina in 1920. She had trouble getting to Paris and landed in Germany, finding a family through the Jewish Federation to stay with. When Izzy came to get her, the religious family refused to let them go together unless they got married. Neither Izzy or Regina believed in marriage, “I didn’t believe in structure, I didn’t believe in religion, I didn’t believe in anything.” But the couple brought a rabbi over who married them the next day.
At this point Regina’s sister Fannie was in the U.S., and wrote to Izzy and Regina telling them to come. Fannie and husband Louie sent the money they had–enough for one person to come over. Regina was pregnant, so she went first. She was 21, pregnant, and on a long unknown journey by herself. It took several months to bring Izzy over. Money was tight and the U.S. had banned Polish immigration due to a full quota of Polish immigrants. Lawyers were called and Izzy was permitted to come over as he was the father of a boy born in the U.S.
When Izzy arrived in the U.S. in the summer of 1922, he spoke no English, had no birth certificate or records of any sort. It’s likely his last name was changed (to what someone heard through his thick accent) at arrival. He would never return to Europe, and didn’t keep in touch with the family he left behind. He made it to Detroit where his sister and brother-in-law lived and was reunited with his wife, meeting his 9 month old son for the first time.
Izzy, Regina and their young son lived in the back of Uncle Louie’s grocery store in Detroit until Izzy made enough money to move them to their own apartment. Friends he made at the local Jewish social club were in the laundry business, so he went into business with them.
Soon he opened his own laundry business. Together with Regina they raised three kids–Hy, Phil (my grandpa) and Rae. Izzy saw his two sons off to war (WWII), saw them later return and take over the family laundry business. Izzy and Regina retired to Florida where they lived for a few years until Regina got sick with cancer. They moved back to be near family in Detroit when Regina died.
Izzy lived on his own (until his last few months-year), with a sharp mind, thick Polish accent, close to his 3 children + their spouses, 6 grandchildren and 5 great grandchildren he got to know and love. When I was born he was 89. He died in 1999 at 102 years old.
He wasn’t religious, and I can understand why–he didn’t feel particularly blessed, and didn’t see any example of the Jewish faith being something rewarding. In a video interview my great uncles made of him he said: “I never deny that I’m a Jew, but being Jewish has nothing to do with believing. I’m Jewish because I was born into a Jewish family. If anyone believes there’s a God ruling all this, then he doesn’t have the brains to think or else he’d see what’s going on. It’s impossible to believe someone’s ruling it. Take the Jewish religion. How many people have been killed since we existed? So many people all over the world and we still believe in God. Where is he?”
I think about his whole life, everything he saw, how much struggle and uncertainty he faced. He told my uncles: “I never got that mad. There’s a Jewish saying, ‘it could be worse, thank God, it could be worse.’ If something happens, it just happens, that’s all.” I think that ‘let it go’ mentality probably kept him going for as long as he did. He’d tell you it was the family recipe for spicy pickles, though.
In 1905 Izzy was 7. The Polish people revolved against Russian power. Izzy’s older brother, 19 at the time, was killed participating in the political movement. Izzy remembers the funeral and his family hiding out after when Russians came in to reestablish power.
When he was 13 his dad told him he was an adult, and to go find work. He was hired as an apprentice at an iron shop in town. Soon he met the owner’s daughter, Rivka/”Regina”. She was 12 at the time. It was love at first sight.
Poland began to establish its own government and draft soldiers of Izzy's age. His parents urged him to register as they would be fined if he didn’t. He was against war, but registered. His name was called to join, but when lining up at a drafting event, he snuck away when officers weren’t looking. He spent some time in hiding, eventually using some of Regina’s money to pay a smuggler to take him to the Poland/German border for escape.
For the next decade he worked in a variety of jobs, traveling often to find work (Belgium, Germany, France) but always returning home “to see my honey”. He faked being German (he spoke Yiddish, close to German) to get a job in a lumber mill making trench bunkers for German soldiers during WWI. He watched as weary soldiers came in to rest and witnessed a tired soldier refusing orders to get back to work be marched to a wall in front of the group by a commanding officer, shot and killed.
Europe post WWI was in a depression, finding work was hard. Izzy would use the local Jewish Federation in each new city he traveled to to find work and a flat to rent. Even then he was often turned down. “German Jews didn’t like ‘Eastern’ Jews (Polish/Russian). German Jews had assimilated and they thought we were uncivilized.” He was able to barely find work, “I made a good impression on people, I was honest”.
Izzy settled in Paris and sent for Regina in 1920. She had trouble getting to Paris and landed in Germany, finding a family through the Jewish Federation to stay with. When Izzy came to get her, the religious family refused to let them go together unless they got married. Neither Izzy or Regina believed in marriage, “I didn’t believe in structure, I didn’t believe in religion, I didn’t believe in anything.” But the couple brought a rabbi over who married them the next day.
At this point Regina’s sister Fannie was in the U.S., and wrote to Izzy and Regina telling them to come. Fannie and husband Louie sent the money they had–enough for one person to come over. Regina was pregnant, so she went first. She was 21, pregnant, and on a long unknown journey by herself. It took several months to bring Izzy over. Money was tight and the U.S. had banned Polish immigration due to a full quota of Polish immigrants. Lawyers were called and Izzy was permitted to come over as he was the father of a boy born in the U.S.
When Izzy arrived in the U.S. in the summer of 1922, he spoke no English, had no birth certificate or records of any sort. It’s likely his last name was changed (to what someone heard through his thick accent) at arrival. He would never return to Europe, and didn’t keep in touch with the family he left behind. He made it to Detroit where his sister and brother-in-law lived and was reunited with his wife, meeting his 9 month old son for the first time.
Izzy, Regina and their young son lived in the back of Uncle Louie’s grocery store in Detroit until Izzy made enough money to move them to their own apartment. Friends he made at the local Jewish social club were in the laundry business, so he went into business with them.
Soon he opened his own laundry business. Together with Regina they raised three kids–Hy, Phil (my grandpa) and Rae. Izzy saw his two sons off to war (WWII), saw them later return and take over the family laundry business. Izzy and Regina retired to Florida where they lived for a few years until Regina got sick with cancer. They moved back to be near family in Detroit when Regina died.
Izzy lived on his own (until his last few months-year), with a sharp mind, thick Polish accent, close to his 3 children + their spouses, 6 grandchildren and 5 great grandchildren he got to know and love. When I was born he was 89. He died in 1999 at 102 years old.
He wasn’t religious, and I can understand why–he didn’t feel particularly blessed, and didn’t see any example of the Jewish faith being something rewarding. In a video interview my great uncles made of him he said: “I never deny that I’m a Jew, but being Jewish has nothing to do with believing. I’m Jewish because I was born into a Jewish family. If anyone believes there’s a God ruling all this, then he doesn’t have the brains to think or else he’d see what’s going on. It’s impossible to believe someone’s ruling it. Take the Jewish religion. How many people have been killed since we existed? So many people all over the world and we still believe in God. Where is he?”
I think about his whole life, everything he saw, how much struggle and uncertainty he faced. He told my uncles: “I never got that mad. There’s a Jewish saying, ‘it could be worse, thank God, it could be worse.’ If something happens, it just happens, that’s all.” I think that ‘let it go’ mentality probably kept him going for as long as he did. He’d tell you it was the family recipe for spicy pickles, though.