Family History and Family Documents; The Bernstein Family Circle. (Abraham Berenstein, arrived 1901, from Kiev, Ukraine). (pictured: Major Seymour F. Bernstein, Command Pilot, United States Air force, Retired)(to add content please contact Jay Harold Bernstein at JayBernstein19@gmail.com)
Monday, September 26, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Name: Abraham Bernstein Age: 48
Occupation: Pedler
Color: White
ht. 5'8. wt 215
hair: Gray
eyes: Brown
Born: Kieff, Russia (Kiev)
Date of Birth: April, 1866
Present residence: 385 East 3rd Street, New York.
Emigrating from: Bremen, Germany.
Name of Vessel: Barbarossa
Last place of foreign residence: Kieff, Russia.
I am now a subject of and intent to renounce allegiance to: Nikcolas the II, Emperor of all
The Russas.
Date of arrival United States: Sept. 4, 1901.
Port of Arrival: New York, N.Y.
(stamped: NATURALIZATION BUREAU Rooms 178 & 179 Fifth Floor,
Post Office Building, N.Y.)
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Linda Ann Bernstein/ Eulogy by Steven J. Bernstein/ Sept. 2004.
LINDA ANN BERNSTEIN
13 MARCH 1958 ~ 16 SEPTEMBER 2004
(Eulogy given by brother, Steven J Bernstein)
When an old person dies, the part that makes it so difficult is that we will never see or touch or hear that person ever again. Nevertheless we are grateful for the time we had with them, and we're comforted in the knowledge that they lived a long, full life. But when a young person dies, we also think about the life missed, the unrealized potential, and the fact that they were cheated out on that long full life. Linda was cheated, because she was a strong lady and had great potential, and she demonstrated this strength and potential many times in her life.
I remember when I was about 8 or 9 years old, and Linda was maybe 13, my bicycle was stolen by Randy Anderkawicz and Johnny Carlucci, two filthy street kids that lived on our block. Randy was a mean son-of-a-bitch, and Johnny was his lieutenant in training. Randy eventually went on to get shot and killed by a cop whom he had assaulted because the cop was going to testify against him. Well, he was pretty vicious even at age 11, but Linda was determined to help me get my bicycle back. Since Johnny was my age and size, I would fight him, and since Linda was closer to Randy's size, she was going to have to fight Randy over it. These kids fought dirty, literally throwing dirt from the street into our eyes to blind us before they attacked. We both got torn apart pretty badly but Linda did plenty of damage to Randy. Then Johnny's mother came outside and broke up the fight. She screamed at Randy for fighting with a girl and made him give the bicycle back. But after that day, no one in the neighborhood dared mess with Linda, and Randy developed a lot of respect for Linda and never crossed her again.
Linda was the one whose strong will trained my parents. Our older brother, Richard, as heir apparent, would normally be considered first in line to train the parents when we were growing up. But he will freely admit Linda not only had all the artistic talent in the family, she also possessed all the talent to redefine the boundaries my parents had set for us. Linda was the one who took the A train up to Music and Art High School when she was 15 years old. Linda was the one who insisted on playing on the volleyball team. Linda was the one who spent her junior year at Smith College away from Northampton in Italy studying art. Linda was the one who eloped. Linda was the one who drove a taxi during her early years as a struggling artist. And Linda was the one who spent a glorious year traveling, scuba-diving, and photographing in the South Pacific when she was old enough to afford it yet young enough to enjoy it.
But in addition to her great strength, Linda also had her compassionate side. I saw this side in how she cared for my father when he was ill. I saw this compassion when she was together with Carlos many years ago. And I saw this again more recently, as Linda had a very special place in her heart for Roman. She fastidiously tended to Roman’s round-the-clock need for nourishment, carefully monitoring what went into his mouth and when, and measuring precisely how much. She admitted she had to re-learn how to cook, so that she could be sure to omit anything that might trigger Roman’s allergies.
And she shared this compassionate side with Roman. Roman - while I've known you throughout your time together, I was fortunate to see a very compassionate side of you these past seven months. From the moment Linda was diagnosed through to her very last breath, Roman not only remained faithfully by her side, but he also provided round-the-clock nursing care for her, carefully changing the daily dressing on a skin tumor that burst and almost took her life months ago, sacrificing of himself no matter what she needed. Roman -this was Linda’s greatest comfort during this difficult time, and everyone in our family is forever grateful to you for standing by her like the truest possible companion. Thank you, Roman.
Linda was also fiercely loyal to me as her baby brother. When I first moved back to New York, she tried to fix me up with one of her closest friends. Her friend confessed to me years later that she and Linda once had a very scary conversation around that time. Apparently Linda had warned her and said: “You know you’re one of my dearest friends, right? Well, if you and Steven start going out, and things progress to the point where you get married, that would really be great. But if afterwards, things didn’t work out so well and you guys had to get a divorce, well, I hope you realize I would have to side with Steven”.
But aside from her strength and compassion, Linda’s creative side was undoubtedly her greatest asset. And photography was a passion of Linda’s that she was able to creatively merge with her fine arts training. She developed into a fine photographer, and was able to share this passion with Roman. She developed quite a following of students of the craft, including myself. Linda always had an opinion on photography, and she was always willing to share it with you so that you could learn from her, whether you were ready for her opinion or not. It was quite clear she had a tremendous influence on people through her photography.
As an example, I discovered a postcard on her refrigerator that I had forgotten I had sent her from the Grand Canyon back in 2001 during my last great vacation. Linda and Roman had visited that area maybe a year before my trip, so she gave me much advice on what type of film to use and which lenses would work best. I had never been on a horse before but was initiated on this trip. Linda had put Roman through the same ordeal, as Roman took his first ride on a horse with Linda on their trip. So my card to her read as follows: “Hi Linda. Well, we did the helicopter ride to Havisu yesterday. It was a bit cloudy so it never got scorching hot. Tell Roman I feel his pain. I think one of my balls is still in the canyon. The trip has been largely spectacular. I’ve been shooting all slide film. Of course you were right about the wide-angle lens. Love, Steve.” She had urged me to at least rent a wide-angle lens for the trip, but I was lazy, and I lived to regret that decision.
I received a phonecall yesterday from an amateur photographer who had purchased some of her World Trade Center photos and was very sad at the news of her passing. One of the most poignant things he said to me was that he was really touched by how even after she had made the sale, she continued to take an interest in him. She helped him tremendously when he purchased a digital camera. She taught him how to use the camera, as well as many things about photography. It was that experience that made him realize how special Linda was.
I also received an email from one of our relatives, Freya, about Linda’s passing. In it, she said: “The last time I saw her was at Maxine's wedding and we had several wonderful chats before my mom's 90th birthday celebration. She introduced me to her art and photography through her website. I was amazed at her sensitive and beautiful capture of a simple city skyline... especially the twin towers.”
I received an email from her friend Charles Ferguson, who said: “Linda was a credit to her family, and to the lives of those that were honored to know her. I will personally be indebted to her assistance with my camera, and more to the fact I could call her my friend. In such a time of emptiness all I can say is her memory will last forever as her talents are conveyed from the ingenious and artistic work from her camera which was only an extension of her mind.”
It's not worth dwelling on how Linda died. That is not what we should remember. We should remember the lives she touched. We should remember her art. We should remember her photography. We should remember how her ability to find beauty in the world could be shared through her artwork. We should remember how she never gave up as an artist, staying true to her craft until the end. We should remember how much she loved New York. And we should remember how much she loved her Mom… and her Dad… even though it’s clear she had some pretty unique ways of showing her love for them.
Goodbye Linda. You are forever with us in our hearts. Your artwork and photography will provide your family and friends, as well as the rest of the world, with many happy memories of your ability to show us beauty in this life. Even though you were taken away from us far too soon, I hope you are comforted in the knowledge that all of this beauty you found in the world will be spread around and shared with many more people.
Thank you.
13 MARCH 1958 ~ 16 SEPTEMBER 2004
(Eulogy given by brother, Steven J Bernstein)
When an old person dies, the part that makes it so difficult is that we will never see or touch or hear that person ever again. Nevertheless we are grateful for the time we had with them, and we're comforted in the knowledge that they lived a long, full life. But when a young person dies, we also think about the life missed, the unrealized potential, and the fact that they were cheated out on that long full life. Linda was cheated, because she was a strong lady and had great potential, and she demonstrated this strength and potential many times in her life.
I remember when I was about 8 or 9 years old, and Linda was maybe 13, my bicycle was stolen by Randy Anderkawicz and Johnny Carlucci, two filthy street kids that lived on our block. Randy was a mean son-of-a-bitch, and Johnny was his lieutenant in training. Randy eventually went on to get shot and killed by a cop whom he had assaulted because the cop was going to testify against him. Well, he was pretty vicious even at age 11, but Linda was determined to help me get my bicycle back. Since Johnny was my age and size, I would fight him, and since Linda was closer to Randy's size, she was going to have to fight Randy over it. These kids fought dirty, literally throwing dirt from the street into our eyes to blind us before they attacked. We both got torn apart pretty badly but Linda did plenty of damage to Randy. Then Johnny's mother came outside and broke up the fight. She screamed at Randy for fighting with a girl and made him give the bicycle back. But after that day, no one in the neighborhood dared mess with Linda, and Randy developed a lot of respect for Linda and never crossed her again.
Linda was the one whose strong will trained my parents. Our older brother, Richard, as heir apparent, would normally be considered first in line to train the parents when we were growing up. But he will freely admit Linda not only had all the artistic talent in the family, she also possessed all the talent to redefine the boundaries my parents had set for us. Linda was the one who took the A train up to Music and Art High School when she was 15 years old. Linda was the one who insisted on playing on the volleyball team. Linda was the one who spent her junior year at Smith College away from Northampton in Italy studying art. Linda was the one who eloped. Linda was the one who drove a taxi during her early years as a struggling artist. And Linda was the one who spent a glorious year traveling, scuba-diving, and photographing in the South Pacific when she was old enough to afford it yet young enough to enjoy it.
But in addition to her great strength, Linda also had her compassionate side. I saw this side in how she cared for my father when he was ill. I saw this compassion when she was together with Carlos many years ago. And I saw this again more recently, as Linda had a very special place in her heart for Roman. She fastidiously tended to Roman’s round-the-clock need for nourishment, carefully monitoring what went into his mouth and when, and measuring precisely how much. She admitted she had to re-learn how to cook, so that she could be sure to omit anything that might trigger Roman’s allergies.
And she shared this compassionate side with Roman. Roman - while I've known you throughout your time together, I was fortunate to see a very compassionate side of you these past seven months. From the moment Linda was diagnosed through to her very last breath, Roman not only remained faithfully by her side, but he also provided round-the-clock nursing care for her, carefully changing the daily dressing on a skin tumor that burst and almost took her life months ago, sacrificing of himself no matter what she needed. Roman -this was Linda’s greatest comfort during this difficult time, and everyone in our family is forever grateful to you for standing by her like the truest possible companion. Thank you, Roman.
Linda was also fiercely loyal to me as her baby brother. When I first moved back to New York, she tried to fix me up with one of her closest friends. Her friend confessed to me years later that she and Linda once had a very scary conversation around that time. Apparently Linda had warned her and said: “You know you’re one of my dearest friends, right? Well, if you and Steven start going out, and things progress to the point where you get married, that would really be great. But if afterwards, things didn’t work out so well and you guys had to get a divorce, well, I hope you realize I would have to side with Steven”.
But aside from her strength and compassion, Linda’s creative side was undoubtedly her greatest asset. And photography was a passion of Linda’s that she was able to creatively merge with her fine arts training. She developed into a fine photographer, and was able to share this passion with Roman. She developed quite a following of students of the craft, including myself. Linda always had an opinion on photography, and she was always willing to share it with you so that you could learn from her, whether you were ready for her opinion or not. It was quite clear she had a tremendous influence on people through her photography.
As an example, I discovered a postcard on her refrigerator that I had forgotten I had sent her from the Grand Canyon back in 2001 during my last great vacation. Linda and Roman had visited that area maybe a year before my trip, so she gave me much advice on what type of film to use and which lenses would work best. I had never been on a horse before but was initiated on this trip. Linda had put Roman through the same ordeal, as Roman took his first ride on a horse with Linda on their trip. So my card to her read as follows: “Hi Linda. Well, we did the helicopter ride to Havisu yesterday. It was a bit cloudy so it never got scorching hot. Tell Roman I feel his pain. I think one of my balls is still in the canyon. The trip has been largely spectacular. I’ve been shooting all slide film. Of course you were right about the wide-angle lens. Love, Steve.” She had urged me to at least rent a wide-angle lens for the trip, but I was lazy, and I lived to regret that decision.
I received a phonecall yesterday from an amateur photographer who had purchased some of her World Trade Center photos and was very sad at the news of her passing. One of the most poignant things he said to me was that he was really touched by how even after she had made the sale, she continued to take an interest in him. She helped him tremendously when he purchased a digital camera. She taught him how to use the camera, as well as many things about photography. It was that experience that made him realize how special Linda was.
I also received an email from one of our relatives, Freya, about Linda’s passing. In it, she said: “The last time I saw her was at Maxine's wedding and we had several wonderful chats before my mom's 90th birthday celebration. She introduced me to her art and photography through her website. I was amazed at her sensitive and beautiful capture of a simple city skyline... especially the twin towers.”
I received an email from her friend Charles Ferguson, who said: “Linda was a credit to her family, and to the lives of those that were honored to know her. I will personally be indebted to her assistance with my camera, and more to the fact I could call her my friend. In such a time of emptiness all I can say is her memory will last forever as her talents are conveyed from the ingenious and artistic work from her camera which was only an extension of her mind.”
It's not worth dwelling on how Linda died. That is not what we should remember. We should remember the lives she touched. We should remember her art. We should remember her photography. We should remember how her ability to find beauty in the world could be shared through her artwork. We should remember how she never gave up as an artist, staying true to her craft until the end. We should remember how much she loved New York. And we should remember how much she loved her Mom… and her Dad… even though it’s clear she had some pretty unique ways of showing her love for them.
Goodbye Linda. You are forever with us in our hearts. Your artwork and photography will provide your family and friends, as well as the rest of the world, with many happy memories of your ability to show us beauty in this life. Even though you were taken away from us far too soon, I hope you are comforted in the knowledge that all of this beauty you found in the world will be spread around and shared with many more people.
Thank you.
Monday, January 24, 2011
FAMILY TREE/ HISTORY -- ABRAHAM BERNSTEIN AND CHASIA (ANNA) BERNSTEIN
FAMILY TREE HISTORY (courtesy of Florence Rosenburg, and Ann and Gail)
_______________________________________________________
ABRAHAM & ANNA BERNSTEIN
ABRAHAM BERNSTEIN - Mother Freida
Father Sholom Bernstein
Residences: Pilipa
Kiev a gebarnai, near Odessa (never checked spelling)
Sholom and Frieda had 5 sons and 4 daughters:
Bunia, daughter- Ethel Ambinder's mother
Moishe, son-moved to St. Louis, wife Esther
Abraham, Great Grandpa to you (Gayle)
Bennie, ? was married
Velvuile; remained in Odessa (son) - married?
Modchase (Heshie), never married (son)
Brauna - daughter
Esther - daughter
Laka, husband Buzzie - no children
CHASAIH BERNSTEIN, (Anna) Mother, Geital
Father, Aaron Wolf Mischanjewski (pronounced Mischneyefsky)
Geital a Aaron had two sons and 2 daughters
Chasaih, married Abraham - Grandparents to Betty, Florence, Sonny, etc..
Sonya, ? married name Perlmutter
Ben Zion, son - wife, don't know the name
Mayer, ?
Grandma's brother Ben-Zion studied to be a doctor, But did not practice, Studied manuscript and did writing. I understand that at an early age he was extremely unreligious. Was married for ten years, divorced his first wife, remarried, became ultra orthodox, translated the Bible into yiddish and wrote many other works. The Russians confiscated his books and he ran away to Czechoslovakia.
The Bernsteins traveled on the Barbarossa and landed Sept. 4th 1901 at Ellis Isle. (Port of departure was Bremen, Russia). Their first residence was with cousins in Newark. They were the Bursteins and had a drug store. They moved in 1902 to 108 Broome Street, then to 185 Livingston St,
In 1905 they moved to 97 Cannon Street.
(gabarnia means county or country).
_______________________________________________________
ABRAHAM & ANNA BERNSTEIN
ABRAHAM BERNSTEIN - Mother Freida
Father Sholom Bernstein
Residences: Pilipa
Kiev a gebarnai, near Odessa (never checked spelling)
Sholom and Frieda had 5 sons and 4 daughters:
Bunia, daughter- Ethel Ambinder's mother
Moishe, son-moved to St. Louis, wife Esther
Abraham, Great Grandpa to you (Gayle)
Bennie, ? was married
Velvuile; remained in Odessa (son) - married?
Modchase (Heshie), never married (son)
Brauna - daughter
Esther - daughter
Laka, husband Buzzie - no children
CHASAIH BERNSTEIN, (Anna) Mother, Geital
Father, Aaron Wolf Mischanjewski (pronounced Mischneyefsky)
Geital a Aaron had two sons and 2 daughters
Chasaih, married Abraham - Grandparents to Betty, Florence, Sonny, etc..
Sonya, ? married name Perlmutter
Ben Zion, son - wife, don't know the name
Mayer, ?
Grandma's brother Ben-Zion studied to be a doctor, But did not practice, Studied manuscript and did writing. I understand that at an early age he was extremely unreligious. Was married for ten years, divorced his first wife, remarried, became ultra orthodox, translated the Bible into yiddish and wrote many other works. The Russians confiscated his books and he ran away to Czechoslovakia.
The Bernsteins traveled on the Barbarossa and landed Sept. 4th 1901 at Ellis Isle. (Port of departure was Bremen, Russia). Their first residence was with cousins in Newark. They were the Bursteins and had a drug store. They moved in 1902 to 108 Broome Street, then to 185 Livingston St,
In 1905 they moved to 97 Cannon Street.
(gabarnia means county or country).
OUR JOURNEY TO AMERICA, 1901: Remarks by Samuel l. Bernstein/Unveiling of Irving Bernstein: 5/4/1952
(Sam L. Bernstein. May 4th, 1952.)(transcribed by Jay H. Bernstein)(Abraham Berenstein, from Kiev, Ukraine). (Berenstein, orig. name).
____________________________________________________________________________
"Remarks by SAMUEL L. BERNSTEIN on the occasion of the unveiling of the monument to IRVING BERNSTEIN, and the re dedication of memorials to family plot at BARON HIRSCH CEMETERY, and made at Academy Hall, on May 4, 1952.
MY DEARS:
I AM THE BRIDGE between to generations. I am the youngest of the older generation, now speaking to you, the Daddies and the Mommies, and the children, of the next generation: To Cye and Seymour; to Eddie and Bobby; to Jerry and Sheldon; to Florence and Ruthie; to Jess, to Joanie, to Gael, and all, all the dear sweet others.
I do remember how, as a small child, how absorbing to me was that most interesting story of the journeying of our own Father ABRAHAM BERNSTEIN, and dear mother ANNA, and their brood of children to this, our country, just over half a century ago. The story of the journey across Russia, and through the then intervening countries, then through Germany, and then the long voyage on the ocean, can be reserved for another time.
* * * But, -- -- early on the morning of September 4th, 1901, the Steamer BARBAROSSA hove in sight of the Statute of Liberty, the vessel rode up the Hudson River, and it docked on the Jersey side. They had arrived! But the trek was not over! By small boat, Father and Mother, Max, Isidore, Gussie, Irving, William, Joseph and Jack, were taken to Ellis Island, then called CASTLE GARDEN. The Immigration authorities went to work on the immigrants, found them mentally and physically fit, that no one would prove a burden on the new land, and the ruling was that the family could freely settle wherever they wished in the land.
Now, they knew where they were going. The had an address in Newark, New Jersey, where the cousin BURSTEIN had setled only some years sooner. So, the family immediately entrained at Penn Station in HOBOKEN, for Newark, arriving there finally, with much hand baggage, at 12:00 Midnight.
Please remember that in the year 1901 there were no automobiles, no taxis. I am told that there were, at the railroad stations in those days, horse-drawn hansoms, or carriages, and so a driver packed seen of the family inside a small carriage, and two (Max and Isidore) on top of the carriage, together with the baggage, and the driver said ''hold on young fellers", and Max and Isidore held on for dear life, while Mother's heart fluttered for them in the carriage.
But -- -- when the family finally arrived at the address they had, it proved to be a shirt factory of the Cousin (the branch of the family known as Burstein) and of course it was closed for the night:
The cabman wanted to get rid of his greenhorns, so he roused the factory watch-man in order to locate the residence of the cousin, and the family finally arrived at the Burstein residence at 2:00 in the morning, and the house was dark.
The driver knocked on windows, banged on doors! "Wake up," he shouted. "Get up; I've got your green horns." you can imagine with what relief the family piled out of the carriage, after the trying long day of journeying, since very early that September morning.
But the arrivals were happy; the famished immigrants were given food and drink, and as was the custom, large doses of Epsom Salts to ward off the sicknesses of the new land. Also, an apartment had been prepared in advance by the Cousins on Broome Street in New Jersey, and after a couple of days of recuperation and rest, three of the family (Max, Isidore and Gussie) went to work in the shirt factory. The family subsequently increased; I and Irma luckily joined the happy brood. Father had started work as a presser, and we moved to New York on the East Side, at 97-99 Cannon Street. Four members of the family were now working, yet they never got rich. However, there was always plenty to eat and proper clothing. The home was always open to friends and acquaintances. The Bernstein home was a great gathering place. We were indeed a happy family. Those who remember the Pesach Seder Celebrations truly have happy memories. the "Chad Gaad Yu!" of Joe Bernstein on Seder night turned into the song "I Got You!" to his blushing bride, Augusta. Happy, happy Memories!
The family kept increasing: Now, the Glitzeeyaner and the Littwaks came in. First, Irving to Ray; next, Max to Bella; Isidore to Jennie; Gussie to Jack; Willie to Gussie; Joe to Augusta; Jack to Paula; Sam to Esther. The larger the family got, the greater the joy.
But alas, this complete joy and happiness could not continue. In January 1925, Brother Isidore was called to heavenly rest. In September 1935, Brother Joe; in July 1941 our Father Abraham; in November 1942 our Mother Anna; in February 1947 our sister-in-law Gushie; and our most recent painful departure is that of Brother Irving in May 1951. All those dear, dear loved ones, all so close to us and yet absent from our midst. How we miss your loving presence!
But, there is CONSOLATION. There is the consolation that the departed left us thenext, and the future generations that will, we pray God willing, multiply and increase to a mutually helpful and happy Bernstein Family Circle.
Nu, Zet mir Gezundt!
____________________________________________________________________________
"Remarks by SAMUEL L. BERNSTEIN on the occasion of the unveiling of the monument to IRVING BERNSTEIN, and the re dedication of memorials to family plot at BARON HIRSCH CEMETERY, and made at Academy Hall, on May 4, 1952.
MY DEARS:
I AM THE BRIDGE between to generations. I am the youngest of the older generation, now speaking to you, the Daddies and the Mommies, and the children, of the next generation: To Cye and Seymour; to Eddie and Bobby; to Jerry and Sheldon; to Florence and Ruthie; to Jess, to Joanie, to Gael, and all, all the dear sweet others.
I do remember how, as a small child, how absorbing to me was that most interesting story of the journeying of our own Father ABRAHAM BERNSTEIN, and dear mother ANNA, and their brood of children to this, our country, just over half a century ago. The story of the journey across Russia, and through the then intervening countries, then through Germany, and then the long voyage on the ocean, can be reserved for another time.
* * * But, -- -- early on the morning of September 4th, 1901, the Steamer BARBAROSSA hove in sight of the Statute of Liberty, the vessel rode up the Hudson River, and it docked on the Jersey side. They had arrived! But the trek was not over! By small boat, Father and Mother, Max, Isidore, Gussie, Irving, William, Joseph and Jack, were taken to Ellis Island, then called CASTLE GARDEN. The Immigration authorities went to work on the immigrants, found them mentally and physically fit, that no one would prove a burden on the new land, and the ruling was that the family could freely settle wherever they wished in the land.
Now, they knew where they were going. The had an address in Newark, New Jersey, where the cousin BURSTEIN had setled only some years sooner. So, the family immediately entrained at Penn Station in HOBOKEN, for Newark, arriving there finally, with much hand baggage, at 12:00 Midnight.
Please remember that in the year 1901 there were no automobiles, no taxis. I am told that there were, at the railroad stations in those days, horse-drawn hansoms, or carriages, and so a driver packed seen of the family inside a small carriage, and two (Max and Isidore) on top of the carriage, together with the baggage, and the driver said ''hold on young fellers", and Max and Isidore held on for dear life, while Mother's heart fluttered for them in the carriage.
But -- -- when the family finally arrived at the address they had, it proved to be a shirt factory of the Cousin (the branch of the family known as Burstein) and of course it was closed for the night:
The cabman wanted to get rid of his greenhorns, so he roused the factory watch-man in order to locate the residence of the cousin, and the family finally arrived at the Burstein residence at 2:00 in the morning, and the house was dark.
The driver knocked on windows, banged on doors! "Wake up," he shouted. "Get up; I've got your green horns." you can imagine with what relief the family piled out of the carriage, after the trying long day of journeying, since very early that September morning.
But the arrivals were happy; the famished immigrants were given food and drink, and as was the custom, large doses of Epsom Salts to ward off the sicknesses of the new land. Also, an apartment had been prepared in advance by the Cousins on Broome Street in New Jersey, and after a couple of days of recuperation and rest, three of the family (Max, Isidore and Gussie) went to work in the shirt factory. The family subsequently increased; I and Irma luckily joined the happy brood. Father had started work as a presser, and we moved to New York on the East Side, at 97-99 Cannon Street. Four members of the family were now working, yet they never got rich. However, there was always plenty to eat and proper clothing. The home was always open to friends and acquaintances. The Bernstein home was a great gathering place. We were indeed a happy family. Those who remember the Pesach Seder Celebrations truly have happy memories. the "Chad Gaad Yu!" of Joe Bernstein on Seder night turned into the song "I Got You!" to his blushing bride, Augusta. Happy, happy Memories!
The family kept increasing: Now, the Glitzeeyaner and the Littwaks came in. First, Irving to Ray; next, Max to Bella; Isidore to Jennie; Gussie to Jack; Willie to Gussie; Joe to Augusta; Jack to Paula; Sam to Esther. The larger the family got, the greater the joy.
But alas, this complete joy and happiness could not continue. In January 1925, Brother Isidore was called to heavenly rest. In September 1935, Brother Joe; in July 1941 our Father Abraham; in November 1942 our Mother Anna; in February 1947 our sister-in-law Gushie; and our most recent painful departure is that of Brother Irving in May 1951. All those dear, dear loved ones, all so close to us and yet absent from our midst. How we miss your loving presence!
But, there is CONSOLATION. There is the consolation that the departed left us thenext, and the future generations that will, we pray God willing, multiply and increase to a mutually helpful and happy Bernstein Family Circle.
Nu, Zet mir Gezundt!
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