St. Louis

The Name Change Myth

2016 was the year of Fake News. Let’s make 2017 the year that one of those fake stories finally goes away.

Your family’s surname was not changed at Ellis Island.[1]

You know the story. It goes something like this:

  • Carl? That’s not Russian.
  • The clerk at Ellis Island named your family after his son.
  • It was “German Day” at Ellis Island and that’s how your ancestors were called Carl.
  • The name was too long and ended in –sky or –itz or something and the clerk shortened it to make it easier to write.

There are hundreds of variations of this story. None of them are true.

Nope. No. Nein. Nem. Nu. Nie. Нет. קיין .
[2]

Language plays an important role in this myth. Many of the people who purport the story of the name change have ancestors who emigrated from a country that used a different alphabet, or had different letters, or used diacritical marks to distinguish pronunciation. An immigrant from the Russian Empire might know how to spell their surname using Cyrillic or Hebrew letters, and that name had to be transliterated into the Latin alphabet. A Pole with the letter Ł in a name would expect a “W” sound, not “L.” Umlauts and other diacritic marks from German, Hungarian, Czech and other languages do not neatly transliterate.

The creation of the ship’s manifests, or passenger lists, took place in Europe. The clerk was at the ticket agency. A copy of that list was sent with the ship’s captain to be presented at the port of entry. Sometimes a copy of that list remained at the port of embarkation.

On 29 May 1900, the Lake Huron set sail for North America from Liverpool, bound for the Port of Quebec in Montreal. An “Outwards Passenger List” was cre1900-jankel-karol-border-crossingated, and kept in England. A similar version of the list went with the ship, and can be found in the Library Archives Canada collections. Both lists have the same version of the surname of an immigrant from Russia: KAROL.

Wait. Montreal? That raises another big factor in the myth. Did the family arrive at Ellis Island? What about its precursor, Castle Garden? Or Montreal? Or Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, New Orleans or Galveston?

The final destination of this passenger was Boston, not Montreal, so another list is associated with the travel – on a form required by the US Government. Called a List or Manifest of Alien Immigrants for the Commissioner of Immigration, it too, was created prior to arrival. The fine print on the document illustrates that point:

Required by the regulations of the Secretary of the Treasury of the United States, under Act of Congress approved March 3, 1893, to be delivered to the Commissioner of Immigration by the Commanding officer of any vessel having such passengers on board upon arrival at….

In this case, the list was used when the passengers prepared to cross the border from Canada to the United States. Again, the surname of the passenger was spelled KAROL.

After a few years of living with his sister-in-law’s family in Boston, this immigrant moved to St. Louis. He earned enough money to pay for the passage of his wife and children. They boarded the Pennsylvania in Hamburg and traveled to the Port of New York, arriving at Ellis Island on 22 Jan 1905. The surname on the manifest read CARROL.1905-jankel-carrol

I can hear the myth-lovers: “that’s it – it was Irish day at Ellis Island, and that is why they changed KAROL to CARROL.”

No. Nope. Nein. Nem. Nu. Nie. Нет. קיין. Or as the Irish might say, Ní féidir.

Like the UK Outwards Passenger List, immigrants leaving from Hamburg were noted on passenger lists; lists stored at the Staatsarchiv Hamburg in Germany. The Hamburg lists match the Ellis Island passenger manifest, surname spelled CARROL.

Sometime between arriving in Boston in 1900 and moving to St. Louis about 1904, Jankel KAROL changed the spelling of his name to Jankel CARROL. When he purchased the steamship tickets for his family, the manifest listed his name and address as: Jankel CARROL, 814 Biddle Street in St. Louis, nearly an exact match to the listing in the City Directory for Jacob CARROL at 814 Biddle Street. Jankel is the Yiddish nickname for Yaacov, the Hebrew version of Jacob. It’s not just surnames that change as families Americanized.1906-fold3_carroll_jacob_p_317_city_directories_for_st_louis_missouri

The surname CARROL changed one additional time, to CARL, before 1910, in St. Louis, some 950 miles from Ellis Island. Why? That cannot be answered. Som1911-jacob-carl-petition-for-naturalizatione educated guesses could be made, but those guesses become stories, and those stories run the danger of feeding the myth.

Let’s recap:

  • Passenger lists and manifests were created by ticket agents in Europe;
  • Alphabets and pronunciation play a role in spelling;
  • Some ports of departure kept copies of passenger lists and the names from those lists match the names on lists at the port of entry; and
  • Not all immigrants arrived at Ellis Island!

Still not convinced? Here are some additional resources discussing the myth of the Ellis Island name change:

Why Your Family Name Was Not Changed at Ellis Island (and One That Was)
Philip Sutton, Librarian, New York Public Library

American Names: Declaring Independence and Examples of Name Changes from the National Archives
Marian L. Smith, Senior Historian, U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service

The Name Remains the Same
Robin Meltzer, Jewish Genealogy Society of Greater Washington

[1]If only Snopes was on the case.
[2] English slang, Italian & Spanish, German, Hungarian, Romanian, Polish, Russian, Yiddish.

Liberty Enlightening the World

liberty-resized

On a grey, cold day in October, I boarded a ferry outside the gates of Castle Garden, at the tip of Manhattan.  Looking out the ferry window, my parents and I could see a misty Statue of Liberty. From this vantage, the scene would have looked similar to one more than 100 years ago when three of my four grandparents[1]  arrived in the United States via Ellis Island.

The St. Paul, the Pennsylvania and the Kroonland carried my ancestors through the Narrows and within sight of the famous statue. After the ships passed quarantine inspection, they docked at the Hudson River piers and citizens and most 1st and 2nd class passengers disembarked. Immigrant steerage passengers passed through customs and then boarded ferries, taking them to Ellis Island for medical and legal inspection. They entered the main floor past stacks of luggage, and climbed stairs to the Inspection Room [2].

ellis-island-registry-room

Across this floor and through these lines walked

  • my maternal great-grandparents, my great-grandmother four months pregnant with her first child, my grandfather.
  • my paternal great-grandmother, shepherding four children under the age of 10, including my five-year old grandfather.
  • my maternal grandmother, three months old and bundled in the arms of her mother, along with her father and older half-sisters.

My maternal great-grandparents passed through inspection, and with $10 and a dream, headed into the cacophony of Suffolk Street and a tenement on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

My paternal great-grandmother and her children already had train tickets to their final destination of St. Louis, and after passing inspection would have taken a ferry to the railroad, probably out of New Jersey.

My infant grandmother, her parents and half-sisters also had train tickets to their final destination, however they were detained for several hours over concern that the group might be L.P.C., or Likely Public Charge. They ate dinner (lunch) in the detention cafeteria before it was determined that the group had not $10 but actually $45 dollars and the capacity to continue the journey by train to St. Louis.

parents-in-registry-room

My parents in the Ellis Island Registry Room.

The visit to Ellis Island brought me and my parents back to the beginning of our immediate family’s life in the United States. Our Ellis Island immigrants comprised just 12 of the more than 12 million immigrants who passed through Ellis Island during its years of operation (1892-1954).

What is your immigrant story?

 

 

 

 

 

 

  1. Including my maternal grandfather in utero.
  2. Detroit Publishing Co., Copyright Claimant, and Publisher Detroit Publishing Co. Inspection room, Ellis Island, New York. [between 1910 and 1920] Image. Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/det1994018383/PP/. (Accessed November 03, 2016.)

Wiki Trees and Shaking Leaves: A Cautionary Tale

Crowdsourcing a tree can be a fun diversion. It can also work. The algorithms that provide hints to an online tree on Ancestry.com, for instance, can be useful. Connecting with someone researching a common ancestor can break down brick walls and build up family connections. But sometimes those algorithmic hints can lead you astray.

Mordeche Hirsh Polinsky is a great example. Mordeche, also known as Mordecai and Max, had seven children. He had at least four brothers.  His brothers also had many children. Online, there are numerous versions of the family tree, and almost all of them have the same mistake.

Photograph of headstone of Mordecai Hirsh Polinsky

©Renée K. Carl

Mordeche Hirsh Polinsky did not die in 1911.

Yet, the animated leaf keeps sending out hints that he did. Why? Findagrave.com has uploaded a photograph of Mordecai Hirsh  Polinsky’s headstone at Beth Hamedrosh Hagadol Cemetery which clearly shows a death date of 30 November 1911. Same thing with Billiongraves.com. The headstone must be correct – the family placed it there and it’s inscribed in stone, afterall.

The headstone is wrong.

Two other sources offer information that conflict with the headstone. The St. Louis Post-Dispatch printed burial permits in the newspaper, regardless if the family could afford to purchase an obituary. On 2 December 1910, the Post-Dispatch announced a burial for “Max Polinsky.” At first glance, they do not appear to be the same person, however, Max is a known Americanization of the name Mordeche, and Max was the name Mordeche used for the 1910 Census.

The second source is a death certificate for Max Polinsky. The death certificate gives the date of death as 30 November 1910. The address on the certificate matches a known address for the family. The informant on the death certificate is Max/Mordeche’s son “P. Polinsky” and his full name was signed iMordecai Hirsh death certificaten Yiddish: “Pincus Polinsky.” The burial took place on 30 November 1910 at Hamedrosh Hagadol Cemetery, the same cemetery as the headstone in the photos. The name of Max’s father listed on the death certificate is “Meyer,” the same as what is written in Hebrew on the headstone. The newspaper and the death certificate indicate a date of death in 1910, but the headstone has 1911.

Which is the correct year? 1910.

On a trip to St. Louis, I spoke with the executive director of Beth Hamedrosh Hagodol. We walked together in the oldest part of the cemetery, where Mordeche Hirsh Polinsky is buried. I asked him about the stone and told him about the conflicting dates. He smiled, and explained that the stone in the photograph is not the original one. It was replaced, probably in the 1950s, as the old stones were deteriorating from age and weather. The original cemetery records from 1902–1937 were destroyed in a fire. The mistake could have been misreading the old, crumbling stone when creating the new one, or misinformation from the family.

Is a year difference a big deal? The Genealogical Proof Standard requires both a “reasonably exhaustive search” as well as a “resolution of any conflicting evidence,” so in this case, to meet the standard means to examine resources other than the headstone. Which leads to the conflicting evidence, and sorting out the proper conclusion.

So think twice before hitting “accept” on that shaking leaf, or merging a tree with another. Better yet, get out a rake, pile up the leaves, and be prepared to put many of them on the compost pile. It will avoid a small mistake, like the wrong year being added to the tree, or a big one, like the wrong person. The internet has revolutionized genealogy, but the hard work of proof remains just that, work.