Not smart enough to come in out of the rain

January 24, 2012 5:19 pm Pacific Time · 2 comments

by Paul Skolnick

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I happened to be outside when the rain ended yesterday. I grabbed the camera and figured it was the perfect moment to work on a few areas of photography that I’d been forced by the southern California climate to neglect.

The storm ended rather abruptly. One minute it was raining; the next the clouds parted, the blue sky peaked through, and the rain was done. I was on the east side of Rancho Park, which is one of the great resources of my neighborhood that I make far too little use of.

My goal was to capture with the lens as much detail of the water drops as I possibly could. It was a little unnerving. In many cases, I had to switch off the auto-focus altogether—a big step for a rank amateur like me—and do the best I could with minute movements of the focus ring.

And even though I had boots in the trunk, I hadn’t bothered to put them on for fear the time changing would make me miss the shots I was after. In retrospect, that probably wouldn’t have happened. But the result was a fair amount of sloshing around in mud beneath the trees.

I liked the shots I was getting, but I can’t help but think how much closer they could have been had I not given the macro attachment I once had in my camera bag (and never used) to my daughter.

See, sometimes it pays to not be smart enough to come in out of the rain.

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Add some IDs to my dad’s photos… and add a new display

January 19, 2012 11:21 am Pacific Time · 0 comments

by Paul Skolnick

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Looking at the pictures from my dad’s little 1940s photo album, my mom was able to identify two more than we’d previously had. (My mom and dad didn’t meet until 1950 and marry until July 1951, so it’s not unusual that she would not recognize my dad’s friends and acquaintances from a decade earlier.)

My father's father (thus, my grandfather and namesake), Paul David Skolnik.

This, she’s sure, is a photo of my grandfather (my father’s father), Paul David Skolnik. (He died in 1947, so my mother didn’t know him.) I’ve never seen a photo of him when he wasn’t wearing wire-rim glasses, so I guess this one caught me off-guard.

Morty Gaffin, my father's friend from childhood.

And this one, my mother says, is Morty Gaffin, a friend of my dad’s since childhood. The back of the picture says “Italy,” from which I’m deducing that this is a photo of Morty from his WWII service in Italy.

I’ve also tried assembling the photos serially (one after another) rather than in a continuously moving slideshow. The serial display, which is static, is located in the Photos section of the blog. You can get there directly by clicking here.

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Malibu morning

January 14, 2012 8:56 am Pacific Time · 5 comments

by Paul Skolnick

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I found myself up before dawn again today. So rather than toss and turn, I drove out to Malibu just in time to catch the sun breaking over the horizon. What a glorious way to start the day!

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My dad’s little photo album from the 1940s

January 11, 2012 6:43 pm Pacific Time · 4 comments

by Paul Skolnick

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About 14 months ago, my mom presented me with an old binder bulging with photos. I looked through them, and figured out it was a photo album my dad had kept in the 1940s.

It wasn’t comprehensive—there were, for instance, photos of my dad from his military service that were not in this little album—but it certainly contained photos of him and by him that I’d never before seen.

Some of the pictures were starting to show signs of deteriorating. Why wouldn’t they? They were 60-70 years old!

I scanned every photo in the little album. I lightly retouched about a quarter of them, removing dust and scratches and some corrosion that had started to appear. And I thought the best thing for them, since they involve my dad and family and the events of his day, would be to post them.I captioned a handful of them.

I’m mindful of the fact that my dad never showed these photos, and the intent certainly isn’t to invade anybody’s privacy or circumvent their wishes. Rather, it’s to share with family and others to whom these photos might be significant memories of another century.

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My father, Saul Skolnick, with a woman we believe to have been his college girlfriend, Rosalind (or possibly Rosslyn). We don't know her last name. The photo appears to have been taken in Brooklyn, NY, apparently before my father was inducted into the service in December 1941.

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The photo shows my father in uniform, so this is after his induction. It does not appear to be particularly cold, so this may have been late spring or early summer 1942.

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Unknown woman, unknown location, unknown time.

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My father, apparently on sentry duty, possibly at Aberdeen Proving Ground, in Maryland, or Langley Air Force Base, in Virginia.

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This photo is a bit of an oddity. My father was left-handed, but the photo clearly shows him with a Colt 45 in his right hand and the holster on his right hip.

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Obviously, a military encampment. My guess is this was a training exercise stateside prior to my father and his unit shipping out.

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I'm guessing this my father on home leave prior to shipping out for overseas. The location seems to be the front of his parents' home at 796 Lenox Road in Brooklyn, NY

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Unknown women, unknown location, unknown time.

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Statues in an unknown place.

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My father's father, Paul David Skolnik.

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Unknown child, unknown location, unknown time.

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My father's first cousin once removed, Mae Skolnik.

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My father's first cousin, Charlotte Rosenblum.

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My father's mother, Esther (Tepper) Skolnick.

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Unknown GI

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Unknown woman

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Unknown location, but probably in Latin America, where my father served for several years during WWII.

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Location also unknown, but possibly a synagogue in Latin America.

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Unknown children.

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Unknown plaza, but possibly in Latin America.

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My father's sister-in-law Sonia, wife of his younger brother.

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My father's younger brother, Joseph G. "Georgie Skolnik. Obviously during the war, but unknown location.

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My father's friend from childhood, Morty Gaffin, presumably during his World War II service in Italy.

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Unknown woman

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Clearly a card game. The inscription on the back of the photo indicates it was taken in Berkeley, CA, where my father attended graduate school from 1946-1948.

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I’m not sure who many of the people in these photos are. I’m also not sure where many of them were taken. My dad served in the U.S. Army Air Corps from 1941-45. One of the photos indicates, in his handwriting, that he was in the 29th Bomb Squadron, which seems to be one of the units listed in a Latin American deployment that matches many of the places he’d occasionally talk about—like the Panama Canal Zone and the Galapagos Islands off of Ecuador. My father also spoke occasionally of having been hospitalized for at least several months in New Zealand for malaria during the war, but there are no pictures included of that.

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The mechanics of the ‘Shimko connection’

January 5, 2012 6:45 pm Pacific Time · 0 comments

by Paul Skolnick

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I’ve wanted since August to give you a little more detail on how within a matter of days we were able to place Eitan Shimko’s family squarely into the Strauber-Strober-Struber family tree.

I’d like to say it was a snap for me, but a) it wasn’t a snap and b) it wasn’t me.

All of the credit for this one goes to Kristie Weiland Cohen, who has turned out to be the dogged researcher in the Jazlowiec genealogy group. All of us on the email list kept pressing Eitan for more and more details. Eitan would consult his grandmother and return to the list with what answers he could provide.

One difficulty was that the Yad Vashem records showed that Herzl Naftali Strauber had died in the Shoah. A woman identifying herself as a cousin filled out the form a decade later. Eitan could confirm with his grandmother that Herman had been born Herzl, but that his parents changed his name. But how to resolve the issue of a man “dying” in the Holocaust and then dying again in New York years later? Kristie was able to explain that to everyone’s satisfaction by saying the Yad Vashem report was in error. Perhaps it was another Herzl Strauber.

But where did Herman fit into the family tree? How was he related? That’s where Kristie came up with an incredible solution.

Kristie remembered a document we’d been given three and a half years earlier. It was a typescript of a man’s recollection of life in the shtetl of Piotrow, which was near Potok Zloty and Jazlowiec (the two primary villages in what is now the western part of Ukraine that we’ve been able to trace our ancestors to). The typescript remembrance was written by Benjamin Schweber for students at the Yeshiva of Hudson County. (I’m guessing it was Hudson County, New Jersey.)

The document came to us in 2008 from Stanley Strober, who lives in Tucson, Arizona. We don’t know how he got it, but he did say at the time that his ancestors were from Piotrow as well.

One of the first rules of genealogical research is to hold on to everything you get, because things that may not fit in now could very well come into clearer focus down the road.

Kristie remembered a reference—one line in a 37-page document. And it was a off-hand reference at that to a fire that had ravaged the town and how the sacred documents were taken to the home of a learned man for safe-keeping.

That learned man was named Berel Strauber in the document, was is, genealogically speaking, a direct hit for Berl Strauber on our family tree. And it said he had a grandson named Jacob Strauber. The Berl Strauber on our family tree had a grandson named Jacob.

There was a small leap of logic we still needed to make. Herman’s tombstone, in giving his Hebrew name and his father’s Hebrew name, indicated his father Shimon was a rabbi. The leap was in assuming that a known Strauber in Piotrow, which Schweber said had twenty Jewish families in it, would be related to another Strauber we believe to have been a rabbi.

So we took the leap and put Herman in the tree as a brother of the grandson Jacob, and another grandson of Berl.

I am linking Schweber’s entire 37-page remembrance of life in Piotrow, entitled Chanuka Gift to Yeshiva of Hudson County in Memory of My Parents and Grandparents. We know nothing about Schweber, have no idea when he wrote this, have no idea (other than a contextual one from things like mentions of a motor vehicle, something he had never seen before) of when he lived in Piotrow.

But Kristie certainly did exemplify (again) how to remember that every clue, no matter how seemingly extraneous at the time, may in the future come to center stage.

 

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A new morning in Malibu

January 3, 2012 3:53 pm Pacific Time · 0 comments

by Paul Skolnick

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I had to be up anyhow. At least that was what I told myself. But given the clear weather, it seemed like a no-brainer to head up to Malibu for sunrise. I wasn’t disappointed.

It turns out that this view was made possible by a quirk of the southern California coastline. Normally on the Left Coast, the sun sets over the ocean, which is to the west of the land. But at this particular spot, which is just “north” of the Malibu Pier on Pacific Coast Highway and just “south” of Malibu lagoon, the coast actually runs northeast to southwest. I know: it confused me as well.

So at the spot I picked that morning, because of the way the coast curves, I was able to watch the sun come up over the Pacific. It was quite a treat.

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A Year In

November 6, 2011 9:45 am Pacific Time · 2 comments

by Paul Skolnick

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I passed a milestone this week. This site, its blog, and much of the ancillary information, has now been up for a year. (I posted the first blog entry and the first set of family trees on Halloween 2010.)

Overall, I’m quite satisfied with the results. My goals in starting the site were:

  • to have a platform to post genealogical information
  • to have a space to write some of the things that cross my mind
  • to be able to post some of the photos I take

Each goal has been successful. And overall, I think the site does what I intended it to do. Here are the first year metrics:

  • 2,391 visitors
  • 3,805 visits
  • 9,163 pageviews

Google, it ain’t. But then, it was never intended to be.

The single biggest traffic day was Sunday, May 29, when I tried to set down my thoughts on the passing two days earlier of my pal James Kang. Being able to write my feelings somewhere gave me a tiny bit of relief, and I hope the things I said gave some comfort to James’ many friends, online and off. So the blog that day fulfilled the second goal.

As for the first goal, it too has been amply met. Posting family trees got the names onto search engines. An astonishing number of people Google themselves or their ancestors, and they’ve happened on the family trees I’ve posted. Many have gotten in touch, enabling me to add names to the genealogical record, broaden the knowledge of the family, and in many cases to establish family relationships online and in person with people I didn’t know existed. The Strauber-Strober-Struber text tree got 577 pageviews in its first year, an average of slightly less than two a day. In some cases, the family ties we’ve been building and reestablishing had been ruptured in the late 19th Century, so overcoming so many of them after 110 or 120 years is significant.

As for the third goal, the photos, I’ve had some good bursts, which you can see from the home page by clicking on PHOTOS in the menu and picking an album from the drop-down list. There aren’t as many photo albums as I’d like to post, and the stuff I’ve put up isn’t as good in almost every case as I’d like it to be.

But those are worthy goals for the second year. So please, come back soon and let me know how you think it’s coming together.

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Where We Think Eitan Shimko’s Ancestors Fit

August 16, 2011 12:12 pm Pacific Time · 0 comments

by Paul Skolnick

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A preliminary chart of the descendants of Moshe David Strauber of Jazlowiec, Galicia (now Ukraine).

With some excellent sleuth-work by cousin Kristie Weiland Cohen, turning up references to Shimon Strauber in the Yad Vashem Names database, here’s where we think Eitan’s ancestors fit into the big pictures.

Click on the graphic to see it in greater detail.

It will be interesting as we gather more information, and especially more people’s recollections, to see how the chart takes shape.

A large part of Herman Strauber’s family was killed during the Holocaust, though the dates of death aren’t clear. The Yad Vashem testimony seems to have been given by a cousin named Pnina Zandbank in 1953, more than a decade after the people died. It is possible, given the trauma on the survivors of horrors of the war and the decade that transpired that not every fact is accurate.

Also, the Yad Vashem testimony raises some questions. Did Yeta, Shimon’s wife, who may have been in her early 60s at the time of the German occupation, survive? She’s not listed in Yad Vashem. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that her records did not turn up on a search. Perhaps variants in the spelling of the name kept me from locating it. Or possibly, she had died of natural causes before the war. The testimony on Shimon’s death describes him as “married” at the time of his death in 1942, but perhaps there was not an option for “widowed.” It’s difficult to say much beyond what the Yad Vashem documents say.

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Where Do They Fit on the Strauber/Strober/Struber Tree?

August 14, 2011 9:43 am Pacific Time · 0 comments

by Paul Skolnick

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A new genealogy mystery we’ve been trying to solve in the Strauber/Strober/Struber line: how do Eitan Shimko’s ancestors tie in?

Eitan contacted me a few weeks ago and said his grandmother’s maiden name is Strauber, and her father Herman Strauber was from the area around Buczacz and Jazlowiec, Galicia (now Ukraine).

Given the fact that the shtetl wasn’t all that big, we’re assuming they are related. But how?

A preliminary family tree for Eitan Shimko's ancestors

This is what we know from Eitan about his lineage. His great-grandfather Herman was born in Jazlowiec, but later moved to Vienna, where Eitan’s grandmother Elfi was born in 1931. Herman’s wife, Elfi’s mother, was Sala or Susan “Suzanna.” The family emigrated during World War II, leaving Italy in 1944 for the Emergency Refugee Shelter in Fort Ontario in Oswego, NY. In 1946, the family was formally admitted to the United States and reunited with a relative, S. H. Strober, then living in Brooklyn, NY.

A wedding photo of Sala or Susan "Susanna" Sternklar and Herman Strauber, circa 1930, presumably in Vienna, Austria.

Herman Strauber's father, Shimon Strauber, and mother (name unknown), unknown date and place.

Herman Strauber, unknown date and place.

Eitan obtained some family photos from his grandmother and sent them along. Two are unidentified. They are presumably relatives.

Unidentified relative

Unidentified relative

There have been a number of theories about how Shimon Strauber may have been related, but none yet wins the day. It seems odd to me that no one in the Yoinaton Folic branch—which would include descendants of my great-grandmother Surah Henya, Groinem, Max, Schmeel Hirsch, or Sruel “Israel”—would have known of the plight of refugee relatives in Lake Oswego and not done something to help them resettle. Some of this would have been passed down to us, wouldn’t it?

Jim Ostroff suggests that Yoinaton Folic likely had siblings who survived into adulthood, and that Shimon may have been a son of one of his brothers. Yes, mathematically, it’s likely, but still not a shred of evidence to connect Shimon.

Perhaps Shimon was in the Berl Strober line, a branch of the family that includes many who stayed in Europe and died in the Holocaust. Maybe Herman was a lucky one in this line, who because he lived in Vienna was able to escape the horrors of the 1940s and ultimately make it into the tiny American relief project during the war.

All genealogical mysteries awaiting answers.

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Twilight in the Windy City

July 13, 2011 4:48 pm Pacific Time · 1 comment

by Paul Skolnick

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My travels have taken me to the Midwest a couple times over the last few months, and on one of the trips last month I got a couple hours to monkey around with my camera in the late-afternoon and early-evening hours. A photo friend suggested a spot where I’d have a great vista of the sun setting behind the Chicago skyline.


View Chicago vantage point in a larger map

The “spot” was on the north side of Adler Planetarium, which is part of a civic complex that includes Soldier Field and the Shedd Aquarium on Northerly Island (which, I discovered, is neither northerly nor an island).

It looked like it was going to cost me at least $20 to park the rental car, and I’d have to wrestle my way through Chicago rush-hour traffic from the western suburbs to the lake front. The alternative was to take public transportation.

To a Californian, the idea that you can get somewhere without a car is a novelty. That pretty much decided it for me. It was going to take a train and two buses to get me from Point A to Point B. The time spent would be about 90 minutes in each direction, assuming I didn’t get completely disoriented (which is never a safe assumption). The cost, for train and bus fares, would probably get pretty close to the $20 they wanted for parking. But still, for adventure value alone, it struck me as being completely worth it.

The BNSF train on Metra's Aurora line a mere glimmer in the distance as it heads toward Naperville station.

So that’s how I came to be standing at the Naperville station, waiting for the BNSF Aurora line train to pull up and carry me into the heart of the city. It had been a warm day, and—as happens in places other than the one I call home—it was getting warmer. I’d guess the temperature somewhere in the mid-90s. While there was considerably more humidity in the air than I’m used to, it probably hadn’t cracked 90 per cent. To my skewed way of thinking, that made it okay somehow.

The train was air-conditioned, and over the course of the hour-long ride, I managed to stop perspiring. Before I knew it, the PA system blurted out something about Union Station.

I wandered in about three wrong directions before I found the street and figured out the code for the bus signs. It was only a few minutes before the right one came along. I told the driver I was a tourist—one of those cases of choosing not to remain silent and be thought a fool, but rather of speaking and removing all doubt—and got some extra attention in being alerted to get off at the right place and in position for the next bus. And then, in what in retrospect seems to be the blink of an eye, I was hopping off at the end of the line, Adler Planetarium.

It was at least 30 degrees cooler on the lake front, and as the wind kicked up, the temperature dropped even further. I’d half-expected a thundershower, so I had my windbreaker with me. Good thing, because it came in very handy as I captured what I could of Chicago at sunset.

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