January 2019 - bruckfamilyblog.com

POST 44: A TROVE OF FAMILY HISTORY FROM THE “PINKUS COLLECTION” AT THE LEO BAECK INSTITUTE

Note: In this Blog post, I discuss how I inadvertently uncovered vital records information for several people in my family tree and talk about leaving open the possibility of discovering evidence of ancestors whose traces appear negligible.

Post 40: Elisabeth “Lisa” Pauly née Krüger, One of Germany’s Silent Heroes

In the prologue to my family history blog, which I initiated in April 2017, I conceded there are some ancestral searches which are bound to end up unresolved during my lifetime. While I never actually close the book on these forensic investigations, I place them on a back-burner in the unlikely event I discover something new or make a new connection. This Blog post delves into one recent find that opened the door to learning more about several close ancestors whom I’d essentially given up hope of unearthing anything new.

Given my single-minded focus over the last two years on writing stories for my family history blog, I’ve woefully neglected updating my family tree which resides on ancestry.com. An opportunity recently presented itself to piggy-back on a friend’s membership to ancestry and review the hundreds of “leaves” associated with the roughly 500+ people in my tree. Typically, at the top of the list of ancestry clues are links to other family trees that may include the same people as found in one’s own tree. While I systematically review these member trees, I only “import” new ancestral information if source documents are attached to the member trees and I can confirm the reliability of the details; I may occasionally make exceptions if trees or tree managers have been trusted sources of information in the past, and/or I otherwise can confirm the origins of the data. Over the years I’ve seen multiple trees replicate the same erroneous information, and this is a path I choose to avoid.

The family ancestral information I happened upon came from a family tree I discussed in Blog Post 39, entitled “Schlesische Jüdische Familien,” “Silesian Jewish Families.” Regular readers may recall this tree has an astronomical 52,000+ names in it, so it should come as no surprise that it is often the source of overlapping or new information for individuals found in my own modest-sized tree. That said, I still apply the same rigorous principles in assessing the information found in this larger tree. I rarely take anything at face-value when it comes to vital records (e.g., births, baptisms, marriages, deaths) given the multiple reasons, often inadvertent or negligent, why data may be incorrect or divergent (e.g., illegible or unintelligible writing on source documents; transcription errors). With these caveats in mind, however, I came across some vital record information on the Silesian Families tree that seemed credible given the specificity of birth and death dates for a few individuals in my tree. The information related to my great-great-uncle Josef Mockrauer’s first wife, Esther Ernestine Lißner, and their son, Gerhard Mockrauer; while I’d previously found Gerhard’s birth certificate mentioning his parents, I had never found precise birth and death dates for Ernestine or Gerhard, so this was particularly intriguing.

Having previously established contact with the manager of the “Schlesische Jüdische Familien” family tree, a very helpful German lady by the name of Ms. Elke Kehrmann, I again reached out to her. I acknowledged that remembering the source of data for 52,000+ people is unrealistic but thought I should still ask. Initially, Ms. Kehrmann could only recall the information came from a manuscript prepared by an American Holocaust survivor who’d wanted to memorialize his lineage; with numerous computer upgrades over the years, Elke expressed the likelihood the document was digitally irretrievable. Disappointed, but not surprised, I was prepared to accept the vital records information at face-value.

Figure 1. Screen shot of the “Pinkus Family Collection 1500s-1994, (bulk 1725-1994),” archived at the Leo Baeck Institute—New York/Berlin (LBI), highlighting Series VII where my family’s ancestral materials were found

Then, much to my delight, a day later Elke told me she’d located the source document from a larger collection entitled the “Pinkus Family Collection 1500s-1994, (bulk 1725-1994).” (Figure 1) It was too large to email, but she opined I might be able to locate it on the Internet, and, sure enough, I immediately learned the collection is archived at The Leo Baeck Institute—New York/Berlin (LBI) and can be downloaded for free. For readers unfamiliar with this institute, according to their website, “LBI is devoted to the history of German-speaking Jews. Its 80,000-volume library and extensive archival and art collections represent the most significant repository of primary source material and scholarship on the Jewish communities of Central Europe over the past five centuries.”

The Pinkus Family Collection is enormous. From the “Biographical Note” to the collection, I learned the Pinkus family were textile manufacturers. Their factory, located in Neustadt, Upper Silesia [today: Prudnik, Poland], was one of the largest producers of fine linens in the world. Joseph Pinkus became a partner in the firm S. Fränkel when he married Auguste Fränkel, the daughter of the owner. Their son Max Pinkus (1857-1934) was director until 1926. Subsequently, Max Pinkus’s son Hans Pinkus (1891-1977) managed the family company from 1926-1938 until he was forced out after the company’s total aryanization in the wake of Kristallnacht. Both Max and Hans Pinkus were very active in civic and cultural affairs and interested in local history; they amassed a large library of books by Silesian authors. In their spare time, they devoted themselves to genealogical research, the basis of the family collection archived at LBI. Hans Pinkus left Germany at the end of 1938, emigrated to the United Kingdom with his family in 1939, and died in Britain in 1977.

In reviewing the index to the collection, I had no idea where to begin. Fortunately, Elke came to my rescue and pointed me to “Series VII” (Figure 1), described as encompassing not just close Pinkus family relations but the broader array of families in Upper Silesia. Within this series I located pages related to my family, although, unlike other portions of the collection, ancestral information is recorded in longhand, in Sütterlin, no less. Even so, I was able to decipher most of the numerical data, and enlisted one of my German cousins to translate the longhand.

Here is where I discovered the source of the birth and death dates for my great-great-uncle Josef Mockrauer’s first wife, Esther Ernestine Lißner, and their son, Gerhard Mockrauer. A summary of vital information for Josef Mockrauer, his two wives, and their children follows:

Figure 2. My great-great-uncle Josef Mockrauer (1845-1895)

Figure 3a. First page of Josef Mockrauer’s 1895 death certificate

Figure 3b. Second page of Josef Mockrauer’s 1895 death certificate

Figure 4a. Plan map of the Jüdischer Friedhof in Berlin Weißensee (East Berlin) showing section Q1, where Josef Mockrauer is interred

Figure 4b. Headstone of Josef Mockrauer’s grave

NAME	EVENT	DATE	PLACE
Josef Mockrauer (Figures 2, 3a-b, 4a-b)	Birth	18 June 1845	Leschnitz, Oberschlesien, Germany [today: Leśnica, Poland]
Josef Mockrauer (Figures 2, 3a-b, 4a-b)	Death	9 February 1895	Charlottenburg, Berlin, Germany
Esther Ernestine Mockrauer, née Lißner (Josef’s first wife)	Birth	30 October 1854	Dresden, Saxony, Germany
	Death	24 May 1934	Berlin, Germany
	Marriage	Unknown	Unknown
Elly Landsberg, née Mockrauer (Figure 5)	Birth	14 August 1873	Berlin, Germany
Elly Landsberg, née Mockrauer (Figure 5)	Death	15 May 1944	Auschwitz, Poland
Gerhard Mockrauer (Figure 6)	Birth	25 January 1875	Berlin, Germany
Gerhard Mockrauer (Figure 6)	Death	21 September 1886	Freienwalde, Märkisch-Oderland district, Brandenburg, Germany
George Mockrauer (Ernestine’s out-of-wedlock child) (Figure 7)	Birth	16 April 1884	Dresden, Saxony, Germany
	Death	Unknown	Unknown
Charlotte Mockrauer, née Bruck (Josef’s second wife) (Figure 8)	Birth	8 December 1865	Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]
	Death	1965	Stockholm, Sweden
	Marriage	18 March 1888	Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]
Franz Josef Mockrauer (Figure 9)	Birth	10 August 1889	Berlin, Germany
Franz Josef Mockrauer (Figure 9)	Death	7 July 1962	Stockholm, Sweden

Figure 5. Josef Mockrauer and Esther Ernestine Mockrauer née Lißner’s daughter, Elly Landsberg née Mockrauer, in 1902

Figure 6. Birth certificate for Josef and Ernestine Mockrauer’s son, Gerhard Mockrauer, indicating he was born on January 25, 1875

Figure 7. Birth certificate for Georg Mockrauer, Ernestine Mockrauer’s out-of-wedlock son, who carried the “Mockrauer” surname even though he was not Josef Mockrauer’s son

Figure 8. Josef Mockrauer’s second wife, my great-aunt Charlotte Mockrauer née Bruck

Figure 9. Josef and Charlotte Mockrauer’s son, Franz Josef Mockrauer

Figure 10. My great-great-grandfather Fedor Bruck

Figure 11. My great-great-grandmother Friederike Bruck née Mockrauer

I made other surprising discoveries in the Pinkus Collection. Briefly, some context. The second-generation owners of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preussen” Hotel in Ratibor were my great-grandparents, Fedor Bruck (Figure 10) and Friederike Bruck née Mockrauer. (Figure 11) As the table below shows, Fedor and Friederike Bruck had eight children, only six of whom I’d previously been able to track from birth to death; Elise and Robert remained wraiths whose existence I knew about but assumed had died at birth, a not uncommon fate in the 19^th century. This was not, in fact, what happened. Elise lived to almost age 4, and Robert to age 16. While Elise expectedly died in Ratibor, mystifyingly, Robert died on December 30, 1887 in Braunschweig, Germany, more than 450 miles from Ratibor. Why here is unclear. Their causes of death are a mystery, though childhood diseases a real possibility.

Figure 13. My great-aunt Franziska Bruck

NAME	EVENT	DATE	PLACE
Felix Bruck (Figure 12)	Birth	28 March 1864	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Felix Bruck (Figure 12)	Death	23 June 1927	Berlin, Germany
Charlotte Mockrauer, née Bruck (Figure 8)	Birth	8 December 1865	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Charlotte Mockrauer, née Bruck (Figure 8)	Death	1965	Stockholm, Sweden
Franziska Bruck (Figure 13)	Birth	29 December 1866	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Franziska Bruck (Figure 13)	Death	2 January 1942	Berlin, Germany
Elise Bruck	Birth	20 August 1868	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Elise Bruck	Death	19 June 1872	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Hedwig Löwenstein, née Bruck (Figure 14)	Birth	22 March 1870	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Hedwig Löwenstein, née Bruck (Figure 14)	Death	15 January 1949	Nice, France
Robert Bruck	Birth	1 December 1871	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Robert Bruck	Death	30 December 1887	Braunschweig, Lower Saxony, Germany
Wilhelm Bruck (Figure 15)	Birth	24 October 1872	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Wilhelm Bruck (Figure 15)	Death	29 April 1952	Barcelona, Spain
Elsbeth Bruck (Figure 16)	Birth	17 November 1874	Ratibor, Germany (today: Racibórz, Poland)
Elsbeth Bruck (Figure 16)	Death	20 February 1970	Berlin, Germany

Figure 14. Another great-aunt, Hedwig Löwenstein, née Bruck

Figure 16. Yet another great-aunt Elsbeth Bruck

With respect to the tables above, I don’t expect readers to do anything more than glance at them; for me, they’re a quick reference as to what I know and where it came from, a form of metadata, if you will. The italicized information in the tables was new to me and originated from the Pinkus Collection.

As a related aside, Friederike Mockrauer and Josef Mockrauer were siblings. Interestingly, Josef Mockrauer would go on to eventually marry one of his sister’s daughters, his niece, my great-aunt Charlotte Bruck. Incestuous, I would agree.

Figure 17. Page from the Pinkus Family Collection showing Fedor and Friederike Bruck’s eight children, including birth and death dates for my great-aunt Elise and my great-uncle Robert, both of whom died as children. Towards the bottom right my father’s name is shown (Otto Bruck). [Citation: Series VII: Genealogical and historical materials on the Fraenkel family and others, undated, 1600s-1971; Pinkus Family Collection; AR 7030; Box 20; Folder 3; Page 293; Leo Baeck Institute]

Remarkably, on the very same page where I discovered Elise and Robert’s dates and places of death, I found my father and his three siblings listed! (Figure 17) Inasmuch as I can tell, the detailed family information was recorded by either Max (Max died in 1934) or Hans Pinkus around the early- to mid-1930’s, at which time my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, would have been a dentist in Tiegenhof in the Free State of Danzig, and this is precisely what is noted: “Zahnarzt im Tiegenhof (Freistaat Danzig)”; “Freistaat Danzig” was the official name of this former part of the Deutsches Reich after World War I.

Figure 18. Page from the Pinkus Family Collection identifying Oscar Pincus and Paula Pincus née Pauly’s two children (“kinder” in German), Franz Pincus and Lisselotte “Lilo” Pauly. Here can also be seen that Franz Pincus married Lisa Krüger. [Citation: Series VII: Genealogical and historical materials on the Fraenkel family and others, undated, 1600s-1971; Pinkus Family Collection; AR 7030; Box 20; Folder 3; Page 307; Leo Baeck Institute]

Finally, from the Pinkus Collection, I was also able to confirm that Elisabeth “Lisa” Pauly née Krüger, discussed in Blog Post 40, one of the “silent heroes” who hid my Uncle Dr. Fedor Bruck during his 30-months “underground” in Berlin during WWII, was indeed married to Franz Pincus (Figure 18); Franz Pincus, readers may recall, died in 1941 as Franz Pauly, having taken his mother’s maiden name as his own surname. While the Pinkus Collection shed no additional light on exactly how Franz Pincus/Pauly died, I discovered Franz was the older rather than the younger of two siblings, contrary to what was in my family tree. This comports with a photo, attached here, showing Franz and his sister, Charlotte “Lisselotte or Lilo” Pauly, as children, found since I published Post 40; readers can clearly see Franz is the older of the two children. (Figure 19)

Figure 19. Franz and Lilo Pauly as children in 1902

Tracking down the Pinkus Collection with its relevant family history is admittedly noteworthy, but the real service was rendered by Max and Hans Pinkus. Their detailed compilation of ancestral data from related Silesian families was gathered while running a full-time business and in the days before genealogical information was digitized, when most of the painstaking work had to be undertaken manually through time-consuming letter-writing, and perhaps occasional phone calls and family gatherings. So, while I take obvious pleasure in having discovered the Pinkus Collection, I acknowledge the true forensic genealogists for amassing this valuable trove of family history.

Let me conclude by emphasizing that well-done family trees to which ancestry.com leads genealogists can often be the source of valuable forensic clues but should be closely scrutinized and delved into to before accepting the data prima facie. And, finally, I have no idea how many “cold cases” I can eventually solve but the challenge is what motivates me.

CITATION

Series VII: Genealogical and historical materials on the Fraenkel family and others, undated, 1600s-1971; Pinkus Family Collection; AR 7030; Box 20; Folder 3; Leo Baeck Institute

POST 43: HELPING A JEWISH FRIEND UNCOVER HIS GERMAN ROOTS

Note: In this Blog post, I talk about some ancestral research I undertook at the request of a childhood friend from New York of almost 60 years, and some interesting findings we made along the way.

Post 12: “State Branch of Katowice Archives Branch in Racibórz (Ratibor)”

Post 13: The Former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor (Racibórz)

Figure 1. My and my wife’s English-speaking Polish friend, Malgosia Ploszaj, from Rybnik, Poland, 16 miles east of Racibórz

First, let me set the stage.

In 2014, my wife and I spent 13 weeks in Europe driving everywhere from Gdansk, a Polish city on the Baltic coast, all the way to Valencia and Barcelona, along Spain’s eastern coast, visiting places my father and his family had once lived. Prior to our departure, we attended a lecture in Los Angeles given by Mr. Roger Lustig, sponsored by the Los Angeles Jewish Genealogical Society, on researching Jewish families of Prussian Poland, a place where many of my Hebraic ancestors come from. Knowing we would be passing through Poland, I contacted Mr. Lustig about extant Jewish records for Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland], formerly part of Upper Silesia in Prussia, where my father and many of his immediate family were born. Roger took an immediate interest in helping since a branch of his own family came from there. He graciously introduced me to an English-speaking Polish lady, Ms. Malgosia Ploszaj (Figure 1), from nearby Rybnik, Poland [formerly: Rybnick, Germany], who is actively involved in researching what she calls “her Rybnik Jews” and who was enormously helpful when we met. In Blog Post 12, I discussed how Malgosia helped me navigate the civil records at the “State Archives in Katowice Branch in Racibórz.” (Figure 2) Archived here, we discovered an administrative file of historic police documents from the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel (Figure 3), a family-owned establishment through three generations (see Blog Post 11), as well as vital records for family members.

Figure 2. Entrance to “Archiwum Państwowe W Katowicach Oddzial W Raciborzu,” the State Archives in Katowice Branch in Racibórz

Figure 3. Cover of the administrative police file with historic documents dealing with the Bruck’s family “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, found at the State Archives in Racibórz

Figure 4. Entrance to the former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor, which was dismantled during Poland’s Communist Era and converted into Community Gardens

In February 2015, many months after our visit to Racibórz, Malgosia sent me a link to an hour-long BBC video done by an English journalist, Mr. Adrian Goldberg, to commemorate the 70^th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz in January 1945. In this video, Mr. Goldberg told his family story through home recordings he’d done with his now-deceased father who, like my own father, was Jewish and born in Ratibor. Adrian’s father survived because his parents were able to secure a place for him on a Kindertransport (German for “children’s transport”) to the United Kingdom, although Adrian’s grandparents were murdered in Auschwitz, same as my beloved Aunt Susanne. Malgosia provided local support to Adrian during the production of his video, which was filmed in the now-destroyed former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor (Figure 4), subject of my Blog Post 13, a place where many of my and Adrian’s relatives were once interred.

Following the release of Adrian’s video in 2015, we had occasion to exchange a few emails to bemoan the woeful condition of the former Jewish cemetery in Ratibor, and what might be done about this. Within just the last two months, I was contacted by Adrian’s staff in connection with an article he was working on related to obtaining a German passport, which, as the son of a German refugee, he is entitled to. Adrian’s article on the calculation that went into deciding to do so, given his father’s refugee status and the negative reaction his father likely would have had were he still alive, has since appeared in print on BBC.com on December 24, 2018. Adrian makes clear his decision to apply for a German passport stems not from any political or philosophical standpoint, stressing he deeply loves England. It is more a reflection of post-Brexit realities and the greater flexibility that being an EU citizen with the right to work and travel freely across 27 countries without any visa requirements provides; that said, the idea of adopting the nationality of a country that murdered many family members was not an easy one.

Adrian Goldberg’s deliberations about applying for a German passport happened to coincide with a request from my childhood friend Harold from New York, whom I’ve known for almost 60 years (Figure 5), for help documenting his German roots. He has a similar goal, obtaining German passports for he and his immediate family; as the child of Jewish refugees who fled Germany in the 1930’s, like Adrian, my friend is entitled to a German passport. My friend’s interest in securing dual nationality is different than Adrian’s, however. It has little to do with wanting to become an EU member but relates to the increasingly divisive political environment in our country. My friend wants the option of legally moving himself and his family to Germany should the political landscape in America continue to deteriorate and becomes far worse than that in Germany, and not find himself in the same circumstances as many German Jews did in the 1930’s, unable to find a safe port. Contemplating returning to a country that perpetrated the Holocaust and killed some of Harold’s ancestors is an irony not lost on either of us.

Documenting my friend’s German lineage was a straight-forward task. However, as ancestral searches are often wont to do, it morphed into searching for my friend’s family who may have wound up in the United States or South America after they left Germany, as well as a hunt for older ancestors who were born and died in Prussia. I’m happy to report that the forensic genealogical work has now been taken over in exceptional fashion by my friend’s daughter.

Briefly, I want to devote the remainder of this post to talking about a few discoveries and connections my friend’s daughter and I have made, along with a mystery that remains unsolved.

My friend’s uncle Paul, his father’s brother, was born in 1900 in Wiesbaden, Hesse, Germany, lived and worked in Berlin for a time, then emigrated from Germany in 1937 or 1938, arriving in New York in October 1938; this was merely a transit point, by choice or design, and he eventually alit in South America, Chile by all accounts. My friend remembers an annual conversation that took place between his father and his uncle Paul, perhaps around one of their birthdays, but cannot otherwise recall what happened to him. From my own personal experience, I can attest to the difficulty in finding evidence of Jewish ancestors who immigrated to South America before or after WWII; as we speak, I am trying to discover the fate of one of my father’s first cousins who lived and perhaps died in Buenos Aires, Argentina around 1948, so far to no avail. As to Harold’s uncle, his daughter and I have so far hit a brick wall in determining his destiny.

As previously mentioned, Harold and I have known one another for almost 60 years. Like my father, I was an active tennis player growing up. So, in the course of discussing my friend’s family with him, we both clearly recalled one of his distant relatives who was a highly regarded tennis player when we were growing up. My friend remembered her name, Marilyn, and because she was a ranked player for a time, we had no trouble finding information on her and even getting her phone number. Several days later, I placed a “cold” call to Marilyn, left a message explaining who I was and that I was calling on behalf of my friend, who I thought might be related to her. Later that day, Harold’s tennis-playing kin returned my call, and we had an eminently delightful conversation.

While I quickly receded into the background, I learned when Marilyn had been born, but equally importantly that her mother, Gisela, is still alive and of sound mind. I passed this information along to Harold, uncertain exactly where it would lead, although excited on his behalf that he could converse with an older member of his family.

Figure 6. Photo of Gisela from her Immigration Card when she and her husband Ernest traveled to South America

Figure 7. Ernest’s Immigration Card photo when he traveled to South America with his wife

Prior to contacting Marilyn, I had already found Immigration Cards for both her parents, Gisela and Ernest, her father now deceased, with attached photos showing what they looked like when they traveled to South America. (Figures 6-7) I forwarded these to Harold, at which point he had an “aha!” moment. He dug out his bar mitzvah album photos and began comparing Gisela and Ernest’s immigration card pictures to them. Triumphantly, Harold discovered a picture of himself with his parents and Gisela and Ernest altogether! (Figure 8)

Figure 8. Photo from Harold’s bar mitzvah showing Gisela and Ernest on the far left

Harold eventually spoke by phone with Gisela in December 2018 and sent her pictures he thought were of her and her husband at his bar mitzvah; she confirmed the pictures were them. Gisela explained that Ernest and Harold’s father had been second cousins, and that Marilyn and Harold are therefore third cousins; it’s not clear Harold ever met his third cousin growing up in New York. Gisela and Ernest would from time to time socialize with Harold’s parents when all lived in New York but drifted apart when they became “snowbirds” in different parts of Florida. Gisela graciously provided a family tree to Harold that has allowed Harold’s daughter to broaden her ancestral investigations. What Gisela was unable to provide, however, were clues as to where Harold’s uncle Paul wound up.

Tangentially, Harold’s daughter and I have discovered no fewer than three Upper Silesian towns where members of our respective families once lived, Ratibor, Beuthen [today: Bytom, Poland], and Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland]; there are likely many more. Given that some of these towns were modest in size, and the Jewish communities relatively small, it’s highly likely Harold’s family and my family intermarried, making us distant cousins.

In conclusion, let me remark on one thing. Regular readers know my Blog is not political. Yet, one cannot talk about Jews who were victims of National Socialism without being political and recognizing and condemning modern-day parallels. Today’s populists who demonize and discriminate against Jews and other minorities are no different than the fascists of old. It’s the canary in the coal mine when Americans of all stripes begin to consider moving elsewhere in the unlikely event that the political divisions in our country worsen. It’s imperative we speak out against falsifiers and admirers of tyrants and dictators wherever and whenever they crawl out of the woodwork.

POST 42: “DIE SCHLUMMERMUTTER’S” PARTING GIFT TO MY FATHER, A SIGNET RING

Note: In this post, I tell readers a little more about a signet ring given to my father, Dr. Otto Bruck, by his landlady in 1937 upon his departure from Tiegenhof, where he had his dental practice in the Free State of Danzig. The post is based on information provided by one of the co-authors of a book on the history of Tiegenhof, Mr. Grzegorz Gola.

I apologize to readers at the very outset, as this Blog post is likely to be of interest to few of you and is more a reflection of my obsession with accuracy, recognizing I’m not an expert on many subjects I write about. When people with expertise on the matters I discuss enhance my understanding of these topics, I’m delighted.

From Blog Post 3, regular readers may recall the extraordinary lengths to which I went to learn the identity of a woman my father only ever referred to when I was growing up as “Die Schlummermutter,” translated roughly as “landlady.” With much letter-writing and the help of a gentleman from the Danzig Forum, I eventually learned Die Schlummermutter was named Frau Margaretha “Grete” Wilhelmine Gramatzki née Gleixner. She was born in Tiegenhof on June 13, 1885 and died there on February 24, 1942.

Figure 1. My father and “Die Schlummermutter” (Grete Gramatzki) in Tiegenhof in Spring 1933, with sisters Suse Epp (left) and Idschi Epp

Figure 2. Die Schlummermutter, or as she was locally known “dicke Grete” (fat Grete)

My father spoke of Grete Gramatzki with great affection, and the surviving pictures of the two of them together attest to this friendship. (Figure 1) She was an enormous woman, weighing more than 400 pounds, and someone I picture to be of outsize personality. (Figure 2) Given the close bond between “dicke Grete” (“fat Grete”), as she was known to locals, and my father, it comes as no surprise that upon my father’s departure from Tiegenhof, some months after Grete’s birthday in June 1937 (Figure 3), she gave him a parting gift. That souvenir was a signet ring (Figure 4) that had belonged to her husband, who I came to learn was Hans Erich Gramatzki. He was born on August 10, 1879 and died at an unknown date. My father arrived in Tiegenhof on April 9, 1932, and while multiple photos post-dating his arrival show Grete Gramatzki, none of her husband exist; I surmise he was no longer alive by the time my father moved to town.

Figure 3. Grete Gramatzki on what would have been her 52nd birthday on June 13, 1937, with an unknown friend on her left and my father’s then-girlfriend Erika on her right. My father left Tiegenhof shortly after this photo was taken

Figure 4. Signet ring given to my father by Grete Gramatzki, once belonging to her husband

“The main element of the coat of arms on the ring shows a sloped battle axe embedded in a shield on what was once a red background, today only very faintly visible. The Gramatzki family is Polish aristocracy of the so-called Topór tribe or clan, once living around Preußisch Eylau [today: south of Kaliningrad, Russia]. And, in fact comparing the ring’s coat of arms to that of the Topór tribe shows them to be remarkably similar.”

A signet ring is described as “. . .having a flat bezel, usually wider than the rest of the hoop, which is decorated, normally in intaglio, so that it will leave a raised (relief) impression of the design when the ring is pressed onto soft sealing wax or similar material.” Thus, in the case of the ring given by Die Schlummermutter to my father it is essentially the “signature” of the Gramatzki family and a mirror image of their family’s coat of arms, so I logically assumed. However, Mr. Grzegorz Gola remarked the following:

“In my opinion, this is a variant of the ‘oksza’ coat of arms. (Figure 5) It is very similar to the ‘topór’ coat of arms. (Figure 6) ‘Oksza’ is a battle axe with a sharp tip, inaccurately, a halberd. According to the rules of heraldry, ‘oksza’ is turned to the right [left, when looking at the impression that would be pressed onto soft sealing wax]. The Gramatzki family had a ‘topór’ coat of arms. The Gramacki family had a ‘oksza’ coat of arms. The name ‘Gramacki’ in Polish is pronounced almost identically to the German pronunciation of ‘Gramatzki.’”

Figure 5. The “Oksza” Polish Coat of Arms of the Gramacki family

Figure 6. The very similar “Topór” Polish Coat of Arms of the Gramatzki family

It’s not entirely clear what to make of this, that the ring given to my father, supposedly belonging to Grete Gramatzki’s husband, shows the Gramacki rather than the Gramatzki coat of arms. Possibly, the Polish Gramacki’s originally hailed from Germany or Prussia, and the Gramacki’s and Gramatzki’s have common ancestors.

Figure 7. The signet ring’s heraldic border; neither the Oksza nor the Topór coat of arms bear such a border

Mr. Grzegorz Gola noted one other thing:

“. . .it is interesting that the coat of arms has a heraldic border (a narrow strip on the edge of the coat of arms). (Figure 7) This is very rare in Polish coat of arms. Much more often, this occurs in Scottish, French or English coat of arms. Formerly, in Poland, this meant it was the coat of arms of a younger, newer branch of the family. (In England and France, the heraldic border meant the family of an illegitimate child.)”

Perhaps the first and second issues are interrelated, the slight variation in the shape of the battle axe and the presence of a heraldic border, indicating that Grete Gramatzki’s husband was from a younger branch of an older family or an offspring of an illegitimate son.