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I tell two genealogical anecdotes on this page; one
sad, the other happy—both illustrating
why it can be
important
to know one's roots.
The first, the happy one, is related to my Kessler roots.
My late great-uncle, Isaac Kessler, always tried to
impress upon me the importance of learning my roots. And throughout
my childhood I heard many names that were almost mythical—having never met any
of those members of the family.
Names such as Berniker, Lesser and Smith would come up often when we would meet
at my Nanny's (Rose Silberstein's)
and Grandpa's house.
Jump to 1974 and I'm in Los Angeles, having returned
from a year of Shlichut (being a representative of an organization)
for
Hashomer Hatzair in Chicago. I've given myself a few months to make some money
before I make Aliya to a kibbutz
in Israel. I was a driver for Valley Cab in the San Fernando Valley, where
almost no one would flag down a cab and there
are only a couple of hotels where
the taxi drivers wait in line for the doorman to whistle them to the entrance.
But there I was, first in line at the Sheraton
Universal Hotel when the doorman waved at me. I pulled right up and
opened the
door for the lady. As we drove out, the elder gentleman tells me, "To de Beverly Vilshir Hotell pliz."
(That was supposed to be with an accent.) I couldn't tell
where the accent was from. Germanic? Could be a problem
—and that's the last
thing I wanted while on my shift. Then he asked, "So, vat's a nice boy like you doink drifink a keb?"
Well, now I figured I had nothing to loose, so I answered,
"I'm making some money to go and live in Israel." "Ooohhhhh,
really? I have a
son in Israel." he replied. "Ver in Yisrael?" "On a kibbutz," I answered. "Ooohhhh,
my son is also on a
kibbutz."
"And what's your name?" he asks. "Moshe Chertoff." "BEULAH'S
SON?, he asks. "Yes, and who are you?" I asked. "I'm
Abe Berniker." At
that point, I didn't remember how, but knew that "Berniker" was one of those
mythical names that
I'd always heard. So, I was immediately invited up for
breakfast, but had to decline to keep my job. Promises were
made to make contact
between Beulah and the Bernikers. (Abe's first wife was Nellie Lesser, Beulah's
first cousin,
once removed.)
Well, that was a pretty amazing Friday morning,
especially when one considers that there were over 8.5 million people
in the L.
A. area. On
Saturday, I got a call from a friend telling me that the leader of the local
branch of Hashomer Hatzair
became ill and that I would need to replace him as
emcee at the Jubilee celebration that night for HH's 50th Anniversary
in North America. I had no
problem with that. So, I arrived early at the auditorium, in time to prepare
whatever I had to
say a couple of hours later. Dan Estrich, the Sheliach
(adult liaison) from Israel, filled
me in and told me that after the
official ceremony, my introductory statement
and a few choral pieces, I would introduce our guest speaker for the
evening. We
had him come in from Windsor, Canada—an old friend of The Movement—Abe Berniker!
Well, now this really was a series of amazing
coincidences. I introduced him by telling a bit about him, and then told
this
story in short. I ended my introduction by pointing out, now that everyone was
laughing, that he never tipped me.
WHOA! This was a man who was well known for
his philanthropic lifestyle. If HH, or some other needy organization
needed money
for something, almost anything—Abe Berniker drew up the check from what he
gathered from the
Kesslers, himself and others in the Detroit-Windsor area.
I learned the importance of understanding who is who
in your family, and something about them (genealogy). In
December, 1974,
totally by coincidence, I made Aliya to a kibbutz of Hashomer Hatzair—the
Socialist-Zionist Youth
Movement that the Kesslers and Bernikers helped
establish 50 years earlier in N. America. I had no connection to, or
knowledge
of the movement when growing up. By coincidence, a group of 40 "Shomrim"
(members of HH) attended
my high school and I became involved.
And the rest is...
The second, and sad one, is related to my Chertoff roots.
It was only after my first cousin, Sherry Stern's (Sherry Beth Stern, nee Kotzer) untimely death that an exceptional connection was made to another branch of the Chertoffs. She died not knowing about it.
It's a story of a Chertoff teacher with a Chertoff
pupil, both in the same classroom (on the other side of the world and
100
years since their ancestors lived together in Minsk), and
neither knew of the other's Chertoff roots—until after
the teacher
suddenly died. The following schematic illustrates the name changes for each and
where 100 years of
emigration from Minsk and separation met, face-to-face
(unknowingly) in the classroom. I tell the story, only pointing out the
ancestors who appear in the story, leaving out siblings to simplify the two
strings.
Chertoff (grandmother)►Gladstone (mother)►Schlosberg (High school student) ||Classroom|| Stern (teacher)◄Sternlicht (married)◄Kotzer (maiden name)◄Chertoff (mother)
I'll try to explain the schematic and the situation, first from the left into the classroom.
Back in Minsk, a Chertoff made emigration to Cleveland, Ohio in the United States (a center for this branch of the Chertoff tree) sometime before 1894. In that year, his son was born in Cleveland. The son grew up there and had a daughter. The daughter, a Chertoff, married Mr. Gladstone. They had a daughter, now a Gladstone-Chertoff, who married a Schlosberg. The Schlosbergs had a son and separated before 1992. The mother and sons moved to the San Fernando Valley and the mother remarried, assuming the name Yaspan. The son went to a public high school (along with another some 3,000 students). His English teacher, or for some English-related subject, was Mrs. Stern.
Now, going back to Minsk, we'll tell the other side of the story of this schematic, from the right into the classroom.
Fred Chertoff (my grandfather) emigrated to the United States on the SS Vanderland from Antwerp, Belgium in 1904. He had a daughter (my aunt) who was born in Detroit, Michigan. She, still a Chertoff, married Richard Kotzer and had a daughter, Sherry Beth Kotzer. Sherry got her teaching credentials at the University of Michigan and moved to Los Angeles to start her career in the city's public education system in the early 1960s. She eventually based in a high school in the San Fernando Valley. She married Dr. Erwin Sternlicht, and they shortened their name to Stern.
Now Sherry Stern, she was the teacher of honor students, among them, Mr. Schlosberg. Here they were, on the far side of the world and a hundred years after their ancestors separated in Minsk, a Chertoff is a teacher to a Chertoff student, and neither knew of the other's Chertoff roots. A few years after he graduated, Sherry suddenly died following surgery before her 60th birthday.
At that time, I was already into genealogy and in touch with Chertoffs from branches other than mine, including that of Mordechai Chertoff, the Schlosberg's. So ,I contacted all Chertoffs to sadly announce Sherry's untimely death. It was through that email message that Mrs. Yaspan-Schlosberg-Gladstone-Chertoff discovered that her son's favorite teacher, Mrs. Stern-Sternlicht-Kotzer-Chertoff, was really a Chertoff.
If only both had known of their genealogy while they could have embellished the connection. Tell you kids where they're from!
This site was last updated 15-02-2005
© 2003, Moshe Chertoff