This week's GBE2 has offered us a picture prompt. Wow! How in the world did Beth choose my grandfather's uncle? It's a small world after all.
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| Courtesy of http://www.morguefile.com/. |
I'm sure most of you are familiar with the novel Fiddler on the Roof by Sholom Aleichem or the wonderful movie that brought the story to the silver screen. For most people, it's a delightful tale of Tevya the milkman dealing with his adult daughters straying from family traditions. For me, Fiddler on the Roof is mishpacha or for those Yiddishly challenged, "Family."
My paternal grandfather was a first cousin by marriage to Sholom Aleichem and the story that this author told was based upon the family he had married into, ie. my grandfather's Uncle Tevya, Aunt Golde, and the five daughters who were his first cousins.
If you're familiar with the tale, you may remember Hodel, the second oldest daughter who married a man with radical ideas. That man was Sholom Aleichem, the author himself.
Although my family no longer follows the strict traditions of the people of Anetevka, the flavor of the culture still runs through my veins. When my grandfather left Tsarist Russia circa 1904 to escape the harsh treatment of Jews, he brought his religion and lifestyle with him. Grandpa Paull was one of the younger siblings of many and spent an entire night listening to his brothers tell him why he was foolish to leave Russia for America. After all, my grandfather didn't speak the language nor did he have money.
The next morning, he chose not to listen to his brothers as he boarded a boat for a new life in America. However, he was not entirely alone because two of his older brothers were already settled in the new land.
Once in America, Grandpa landed in Ellis Island, moved to Chicago, and then eventually traveled further south with his new wife. Grandpa Paull started a successful business in St. Louis that became Fair Mercantile Furniture Company.
While in the states, communication from home was tough, but he did receive a letter from one of his brothers. The letter said, "I wish I would have come with you." That is the last word my grandfather ever received from his family.
Years later, someone from a subsequent generation traveled back to Russia in search for the family roots. The relative found the spouse of one of the brothers who reported how the pogroms had wiped out most of the family. Russian soldiers barred the door to a synagogue and set it on fire while my great grandparents prayed. Not a pretty picture for my family, nor my usual funny post.
Enjoy this video from The Fiddler on the Roof.
16 comments:
Very interesting story. So sad about the pogroms.
No, not funny. But real. That's even better.
The history of Russia is fascinating and horrific. The Russian people seem to have suffered more at the hands of their own government than anyone.
What a sad story, so sorry for what your ancestors had to endure! I added you to my blog roll so I remember to stop by more often, I'm so use to entrecard taking me to my favorite blogs that I've got to remember another way now!
Hope all is well,
Janet :)
Interesting and it is a true story. I am saddened by what your ancestors had to go through.
So many of our families histories are shaped by pain and struggle. Most of us don't even know of it. Albeit so very sad and difficult, that you know it, and share it...well I really appreciate that. Blessings to you all and the honor for your family/ancesotrs in remembering what they've endured.
Dear Joyce, It is mind boggling to think what the human race is capable of doing.
My prayers are with you for your heartache. Blessings dear, Catherine
Thank you for sharing this, history from personal perspectives touches deep in the heart where compassion lives. I have been thinking quite a lot about the suffering we each face in our individual ways, sad family news bringing up old personal history and watching Flags of Our Fathers today learning the story of Ira Hayes at a time I am considering how past pain and trauma can affect us and how we can stop reliving the fear of our own suffering and of being witness to others suffering in a by the grace go I kind of way that it keeps reproducing within us. Whether we find peace after horror can depend on different things for different people. You expressed this beautifully and I am glad I read it...
I knew the book (and the movie, later) was historically based, but I wasn't aware that it was a true story. Adds another layer to an already moving portrait.
Lauren
I wouldn't call it a true story, but it was based upon a real family.
That's fascinating. My grandfather on my mother's side was Russian but his family moved to England. My grandmother was Hungarian, the youngest of eight children. On my father's side, my grandmother was born in Denver, CO. I think my grandfather was from Austria but I can't remember. CRS!
Unfortunately, my family has been so Americanized we haven't retained any of the old world traditions. It's a shame.
Oh my gosh - what a sad story. Thank you for sharing it
I love Fiddler! We used to go around the house singing the songs as kids.
BTW love your Obama ad on the right. I need to copy that! :)
Joyce, what a moving story. It is so neat to hear a personal connection to such a classic story. Thanks for sharing.
What an interesting piece of family history. I am familiar with the musical of "Fiddler on the Roof" as I participated in our high school's production of it. How sad for your ancestors.
Kathy
http://gigglingtruckerswife.blogspot.com
Very well done, though I am not laughing nor even smiling, most unusual for a visit to this site. You tell a riveting story.
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