We Are All Strangers...
We are strangers to one another.
We live in different regions of the world, travel in distinct
academic, social and economic circles, and in some cases, speak
different languages.
When we look for a point of intersection in our lives, there is no
obvious connection. Except one.
In a bygone era, our ancestors knew and loved one another. They
worshipped together, celebrated together, shopped together and
likely lived in close proximity as neighbors. In the end, some of
them died together – perhaps even providing comfort to one another as
their last mortal act.
Did my father play in the market square with your uncle? Did your
grandmother bake hamentashen that she shared with my great-
grandmother? I suspect so.
Did your family leave early enough, long ago enough, that they
themselves escaped destruction and established deep roots in other
communities in Israel, Europe, South America or the United States?
How far does the ‘hometown network’ extend?
I don’t know you and you don’t know me. But it wasn’t meant to be
that way. It was meant to be that we would be in contact with one
another and supportive of one another. Our ancestors would have
wished that for us and for future generations.
We are strangers, but we are also kin.
Klodawa.
We live in different regions of the world, travel in distinct
academic, social and economic circles, and in some cases, speak
different languages.
When we look for a point of intersection in our lives, there is no
obvious connection. Except one.
In a bygone era, our ancestors knew and loved one another. They
worshipped together, celebrated together, shopped together and
likely lived in close proximity as neighbors. In the end, some of
them died together – perhaps even providing comfort to one another as
their last mortal act.
Did my father play in the market square with your uncle? Did your
grandmother bake hamentashen that she shared with my great-
grandmother? I suspect so.
Did your family leave early enough, long ago enough, that they
themselves escaped destruction and established deep roots in other
communities in Israel, Europe, South America or the United States?
How far does the ‘hometown network’ extend?
I don’t know you and you don’t know me. But it wasn’t meant to be
that way. It was meant to be that we would be in contact with one
another and supportive of one another. Our ancestors would have
wished that for us and for future generations.
We are strangers, but we are also kin.
Klodawa.
i know my grandfather was born in kladowa 1895 and moved to england early 1900's
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Dean-
When we first started communicating with each other a few years back, we certainly were all strangers. We began throwing names out to each other--our grandparents, parents,aunts, uncles, etc.. When writing to you about your maternal ancestor's last name "Rzeszewski" I vaguely remembered my Uncle mentioning that name to me. Sure enough, his brother and sister, Avrum-Ruven and Rachel Przedecki, were each married to a Rzeszewski--Gnendel and Avrum. I have a photo of your great aunt in a family photo of the Pzedecki children--Gnendel Rzeszewski, the sister-in-law is included in the photo.
Menesha Przedecki, [JUDY MURATORE'S GRANDFATHER]
Gnendel Rzeszewski [DEAN ROTBART'S GREAT-AUNT]
Klodawa c. 1930.
Ron Volk--you identified the very long list of relatives in your family--the Szeczecinski's, and Marchaks, etc. You mentioned one of your uncles, Albert Morrison. I remember hearing about my grandfather's "buddy" named Albert. Sure enough, these two Alberts were one in the same, and again, I was able to dig up a photo of my grandfather and Albert Morrison back in Klodawa in the early 1930's, as well as a more recent photo taken in the 1940's with Albert and his wife visiting my grandparents in Malden, MA..
Menesha Przedecki, [JUDY MURATORE'S GRANDFATHER]
Unknown Woman,
Avrum Szczicinski (Albert Morrison). [RON VOLK'S UNCLE]
Klodawa c. 1930.
L-R: Mark Pizer [JUDY'S GRANDFATHER], Rae (Halina) Morrison, [RON'S AUNT]
Albert Morrison(Avrum Szczicinski of Klodawa), [RON'S UNCLE]
Joyce Pizer. [JUDY'S MOTHER]
Memorial Day, 1942. Malden, MA.
Karen Kronheim was telling the story of going to Klodawa Society meetings in New York City as a youngster, and remembering the Oppers, and the Pizers, and the Coopers--these are my grandparents and cousins of mine.
Paul Davison--I was able to provide a bit of information on the Nicinsky name, we still haven't pinned down if it is exactly his grandfather, or relation.
Michele Prince who inquired about her father David Brodowski--my Uncle was able to tell me vivid tales of the Brdowski family who were his neighbours in Klodawa, as well as tales of Mordchai Brdowski who he was in the army with. We still haven't determined if this is an Uncle, relative, but up until that recen conversation, Michele was not even aware of any survivors in her father's family. It could very well be that the two cousins both survived, both made it to the U.S., and didn't know the other was there.
So, yes, we start out as strangers, but with a little digging we find these connections,so we become less estranged. I think it's a great thing!
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