The Journeys of Leah Rachel

To my knowledge, only four of my great-great-grandparents traveled from Europe to the United States. One of them, Abraham Joseph Ginsberg, a grandfather of my grandmother Mae Chapman Feinberg, moved back to Europe, where he died in 1929. Reuben and Chaya Rubinson, grandparents of my other grandmother Esther Rubinson Marcovis, settled in New York City, where they died in 1934 and 1923, respectively.

The other great-grandparent, Leah Rachel Reiss Leon, a grandmother of Grandpa Abe Marcovis, came to the US in 1886, returned to Romania, and came here for good in 1900. She died in Des Moines, Iowa, in 1913.

After a number of failed attempts to find her passenger records in ancestry.com, today I succeeded in finding both of her incoming passenger records, as well as the passenger record of Clara Leon and her eventual husband Aaron Marcovis.

"Leon" was actually the surname adopted by Leah's son Sol. In Roman, Romania, they were the family of Lev Shevach. Lev, we are told, was still alive when Leah Rachel, age 40, departed Hamburg, Germany, on November 6, 1886. With her on the Sprite to Liverpool and the Chicago, which arrived in New York November 20, were daughter Clara, age 17, and son Mutzer, or Muley, age 7. The surname out of Hamburg was "Schaffoch," but the New York passenger record said "Schaffock." The New York record also misstated the country of origin as Sweden. Both records listed the mother as simply "Rachel."

Clara would marry Aaron Marcovis, another Romanian Jew living in Des Moines, in 1888. Nothing more is known of Mutzer, except he must have been one of Leah Rachel's four deceased children as of the 1910 census.

Leah Rachel's second trip to America was in 1900. It was said that Lev had finally agreed to leave Romania but died before the time of departure. This time the passenger records for the Pretoria listed her as Lea Schewach, age 55, and with her was her daughter "Nutka" or "Butza," age 18. They left Hamburg on July 1 and arrived in New York July 14. This time, the New York record included the address of their destination, the Marcovis house at 770 9th St.

Nineteen days later, on August 2, 1900, Clara and Aaron Marcovis's first son was born. They would name him Leo, after Clara's recently deceased father.

The daughter "Nutka" or "Butza" would be known as Annie, and she would marry her first cousin Wolf Rise the next year. They, as well as Wolf's father (and Leah Rachel's brother) David Rise, are all buried at Glendale Cemetery in Des Moines. David Rise died in 1885, before Glendale was in use. It may be that his remains were brought from Romania. It may also be that he traveled to Des Moines and died before he could send for his family.

A photograph on display in the home of Clara's granddaughter Lois (Pellow) Beskind, may depict Leah Rachel.

The woman on the left looks similar to Clara in her wedding picture with Aaron. Thus, this could be, from left, Clara, Rachel Leah, young Annie, and another daughter taken before the 1886 journey. The daughter on the right would be another of the four deceased children as of the 1910 census.

Rubinson or Robinson?

One of the things that makes genealogy mind-boggling is trying to determine a family's "real" last name. This matter is of special concern to relatives of my maternal grandmother Esther Rubinson Marcovis (1902-1962).

Of Esther's four brothers, three changed Rubinson to Robinson. Only Milton "Mickey" Rubinson (1908-1969) stayed in sync with his father Maurice (1874-1963). Sam (1906-1992) and Ben (1910-1980) used "Robinson" once they married and moved out in the 1930s. Youngest brother Norton (1914-1998) used "Robinson" when he enlisted in 1942.

Were these first-generation Americans trying to downplay their Jewishness, or were they following the example of their grandfather, Rubin Robinson (1850-1934). Maurice's parents and siblings, residents of New York City, switched to "Robinson" sometime between the 1900 and 1910 censuses.

Rubin's only other known male relatives were the five sons of Eliyahu from the town of Pilviskiai, Lithuania. Four settled in Des Moines or Boone, Iowa, and kept "Rubinson." The fifth, Chaim Reuben of New York City (1861-1919), switched to "Robinson" in 1908, switched back to "Rubinson" in 1910, and switch to "Robinson" for good in the mid-1910s
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How odd that the Des Moines family kept "Rubinson" but the New Yorkers did not.

It is important to understand that all these immigrants first used "Rubinson" in America. Had they originally used "Robinson," which sounds like "Rabinson," we might think they were descendants of a "rabin" or rabbi.

"Rubinson," however, simply means "son of Reuben." Reuben ("Re-u-ven" in Hebrew) was the firstborn son of Jacob in the Book of Genesis. Thus, it is fair to assume there was a Lithuanian Jew named Reuben whose sons were legally required to adopt a surname. In Jewish Lithuanian vital records, surnames became common in the 1820s. If these sons of Reuben were heads of households in the 1820s, this original Reuben may have lived most of his life in the late 1700s.

My ancestor Rubin (son of Benjamin) and his relative Chaim Reuben (son of Eliyahu) probably received their first name, as well as their surname, from the same deceased ancestor.

It is unfortunate the 19th Century vital records have never been found for Pilviskiai. Those birth, marriage and death records could have verified that my Rubinson ancestors were also from that town. The records might have also shown the exact relationship of the Benjamin and Eliyahu branches.

There does exist a 1908 Pilviskiai directory. It lists no "Rubinson," "Robinson" or "Rabinson," but it has listings for Berko Gilel Rubinovich and Shlema Shepshel Rubinovich. "Rubinovich" is a Russian surname that also means "son of Reuben." Considering that the town passed from Polish to Prussian control in 1795, to Napoleonic control in 1807, and to Russian control in 1915, it is no surprise to see a mix of Germanic and Russian surnames.

American immigrants from Pilviskiai can sometimes be identified by ship manifests and passport and naturalization documents. From those sources I found three Rubinovich brothers (Moses, Louis and Meyer, sons of Joseph) who lived in Chicago as "Rubin." Meyer used "Rabinovich" when he sailed to America.

The use of "Rubinovich," "Rabinovich" and "Rubin" by the same family teaches us that surnames were recognized by their meaning rather than their exact spelling. And because Pilviskiai had just 67 households in 1797, anyone with any variation of "son of Reuben" could be paternally related.

My mother was told her ancestors used something other than "Rubinson" or "Robinson" before immigrating to America. It is certainly possible they used a Russian version in Russia and a Germanic/English version once they left for the German ports en route to New York. What is more certain: It doesn't even matter.

Joe and Beth Ginsberg, Our Omaha Cousins

Joe and Beth Ginsberg in 1994

When Beth Bernstein Ginsberg died in February, she took many profound memories, both happy and sad, with her.

Beth (1926?-2015) was the widow of my father's cousin Joe Ginsberg (1919-2001). Joe was related on both sides of my father's family. Joe's mother Anna Feinberg Ginsberg (1891-1950) was my grandfather Max's only full sibling. Joe's father Hyman Ginsberg (1880-1972) was my grandmother Mae's maternal uncle.

As such, the Ginsbergs and Feinbergs were especially well acquainted. Joe and Beth were close friends of my Aunt Betty (1922-2014) and Uncle Jack Goodside (1918-2001). It's remarkable that Joe died about half a year after Jack and that Beth died about half a year after Betty.

Whereas Jack Goodside excelled at track, Joe was an All-City football lineman at North High School in Des Moines, where my father would play quarterback several years later. Joe later played football at Drake U. and U. Iowa. Dad described Joe as a "little bull of a man."

Dad also recalls that Joe was the "first draft registrant in Des Moines ... to volunteer for Army service." The record shows he enlisted in November 1940, over a year before the attack on Pearl Harbor. He left service as a First Lieutenant with a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star. According to his Omaha World Herald obituary, he enlisted "at the request of an Iowa judge who said that as a minority, Ginsberg would set an example for others to join up." The obituary noted that the Bronze Star was from the Battle of the Bulge.

Joe and Beth married in 1947. They moved to Omaha in the mid-1950s after briefly living in Davenport, Iowa. After initially working as a supervisor at a Hinky Dinky supermarket, he launched American Service Corporation, "sellers of innovative products," in 1964.

By that time, Beth had already started to make a name for herself as a dance instructor. Not her real name, but as Beth Gaynes. Beth, who had studied at the American Ballet Theatre School in New York, taught dance in Davenport and opened a dance studio in 1957 in Omaha's Center Mall. She ultimately advanced to the top of her profession, serving as national president of Dance Masters of America (1978-1980). The Omaha World Herald remembered her for choreographing the Omaha Press Club's annual show for "nearly three decades." This sign is from the 2013 auction of the studio's assets.

Joe was also well-noted for his work with young people. In a city famous for Boys' Town, he was a long-time youth advisor at Beth El Synagogue, Boy Scouts of America, and the Omaha Home for Boys.

When Dance Masters of America announced "Beth Gaynes'" passing, two of the comments understandably wished "prayers for her family." The well-wishers probably did not know that Joe and Beth's only son Joseph Alvin "Jay" Ginsberg (1959-1986) died long ago in a tragic accident.

Nor are there Bernstein nieces or nephews to pray for. Beth's older brother Seymour W. Bernstein (1916-1958) was still living with their mother when he died. Her other brother Benjamin Albin Bernstein (1919-1943), who listed his occupation as "actor" when he enlisted in 1942, died serving with the Air Force.

My dear cousin Jay died from a fall. His middle name Alvin was likely in memory of his late Uncle Albin, who most likely was shot down. The day Albin died, October 14, 1943, is known as "Black Thursday" because 600 Americans and other England-based allied airmen were lost on a mission to bomb a ball bearings factory at Schweinfurt, Germany.

Beth, Seymour and Albin's father, Joseph E. Bernstein (1889-1950), died one week before the end of the war in Europe. And sure enough, Beth's mother Pearl (1891-1977) died less than a year after Betty Goodside's mother.

Joe Ginsberg's family was almost equally star-crossed. One sibling was stillborn, and both Helen and Milton died in early childhood. Only brother Jerome "Jack" Ginsberg (1914-1965) and Joe reached adulthood. Jack's son Stanley M. Ginsberg is the only known descendant of Hyman and Anna Ginsberg.  Stanley, if you read this, I would like to meet you.