52 Ancestors: Cousins

Nothing like a blog prompt sending me farther down a rabbit hole!

As you may (or may not) remember, my interest in genealogy began about a decade ago when my mom threw out the challenge that there were no more Gunzendorfers in the United States.  And that was my first post on this blog nearly 9 years ago.  My first post.  And, it turns out, my mom was right.  Who knew?

As I've researched and blogged, I've "met" many distant cousins from both sides of my family.  For someone with only one first cousin, it's been quite an adventure and so exciting each time I connect with someone.  And while I'd love to write about each and every one of them, in the interest of privacy I'm going to refrain from doing that.  But to those cousins who are reading my blog, it's been GREAT getting to know you!

My Gunzendorfer family has been a bit of a mystery to me.  I can document back to my 2x great grandparents but since they came from Germany or Poland, I've not gotten past the first of my California born ancestors, Abraham Gunzendorfer (1869-1944).  I've learned a lot about this branch of my family but something was always nagging me - the Gunzendorfer family who lived in New York.  Could they be related?  My gut tells me they are but I can't definitively prove that.

Here's some facts leading me to that conclusion:

In my grandmother's (Loraine Gunzendorfer) letters to my grandfather, she wrote on 28 November 1918:  "Dad has a cousin in N.Y. who has a daughter my age and whose name is similar to mine, Lenore.  They were at Del Monte nine years ago when I met her.  We later corresponded for some time but the last few years lost track of each other.  Yesterday we received a letter telling of her engagement.  Funny, isn’t it?  Now I’ll have to write to her to inform her of mine."

I know that Lenore Gunzendorfer was married to Leonard Oppenheimer on 17 June 1919, so it would make sense that she would have written about it in late 1918.  And my grandparents were married on 23 February 1919 so that checks out, too.

Dad's cousin.  Okay, if there was a cousin in New York their fathers could have been brothers, right?  And if their fathers were brothers, their names would both have been Gunzendorfer.

Lenore's father was named Adolph Gunzendorfer.  Abraham's brother was named Adolph.  Wouldn't it make sense that he was named for his uncle who lived on the other side of the country in New York?

I've learned through NY Adolph's passport application that his father's name was Bernard (or Bernhard).

I'm hypothesizing that my 2x great grandfather, Ferdinand, was the brother of Bernard.  That would make their sons, Adolph and Abraham, first cousins.  And their children, Lenore and Loraine, would have been 2nd cousins.  Loraine was born 22 January 1896, Lenore was born 13 October 1896.  "Daughter my age."  Check.

Lenore Gunzendorfer
Barnard College Yearbook, New York, 1917

Look at that - she attended Barnard College!

And here is my grandmother at about the same age.  Is it just me or do they resemble each other?

Loraine Guzendorfer,
Monterey High School Yearbook, 1915

I don't know, maybe it's just the hairstyle which I'm sure was quite popular in that time period.

Maybe I'm just wishing to put the it all together but there are just too many pieces of the puzzle that seem to be falling into place.  

And I won't even go into another Ferdinand Gunzendorfer who was in Stockton at about this time.  And on 30 September, 1917 my grandmother wrote:  "Dr. Franklin is very nice and a funny thing – my father’s cousin in Stockton is a very good friend of his."  So there's a cousin named Ferdinand?  How many Ferdinand Gunzendorfer's could there be?  I have not found any evidence of Ferdinand being Bernard's son but could that be possible?

And then today, a new clue emerged.  As I was searching on Ancestry for all things Bernard Gunzendorfer I ran across something very, very interesting.  I had always known that my great grandfather's middle initial was B but I hadn't been able to determine just what the B stood for.  He was always Abraham B Gunzendorfer or even A.B. Gunzendorfer.  

So what popped up today?  The 1902 California Voter's Registration from San Francisco.

California Voter's Registration, San Francisco, 1902

I know, I know - it's hard to read.  So I cropped it and enlarged it.

HIS MIDDLE NAME WAS BERNARD!!!!

Okay, it could just be a coincidence but there are way too many coincidences now to ignore all of this!

I know this is very confusing for anyone other than me - heck, it confuses me!  I have A LOT more research to do but I'm glad to have put my thoughts down so I can go farther.

Now I hope I can sleep tonight - if not, I'll count Gunzendorfers instead of sheep!

52 Ancestors: School Days

Sometimes it's good to take a step back, forget the ancestors for a moment, and concentrate on ME!  So for this blog prompt I'm focusing on my school days - at least what I can remember or have evidence of.  Hey, it's my blog so I can do whatever I want.

Looks like homework (but it's not)
November 28, 1961

I don't have too many specific memories of my early school days but I do remember what teachers I had.  As a kid who moved to a different elementary school almost annually due to a special program I was in, going to a new school with a new teacher is etched pretty vividly in my mind.

Kindergarten was at Schallenberger Elementary, the neighborhood school.  It was around the corner from our house but I don't remember if I walked alone, with Mom, or with big sister.  The day I took this photo (2013) I was all alone as I took a walk through the neighborhood.

Thankfully I have the pack rat gene so I've saved all of my class photos.  So here we are - Mrs. Seery's p.m. class.  All I really remember about this year was laying out our mats on the floor so we could take a nap.  I don't, however, remember if I actually slept or not.  I'm in the back row (might have been the only time I'm in the back), second from left.  There's still a few of these kids that I'm in touch with today.

For 1st grade, I continued on at Schallenberger where my teacher was Mrs. Woolman.  No laughing allowed when you see me in the 2nd row from the top, far right.  What in the WORLD was I thinking with that hair?????

A couple of memories from this year.  First and foremost, my brother was born in November, 1961.  I remember sitting on the little step outside the classroom having lunch when I spotted my dad walking across the playground.  Of course I knew Mom had gone to the hospital the night before to give birth (we spent the night next door) so I was pretty sure what he was coming to tell me.  Please be a girl, please be a girl.  He got closer and closer and I could see a big smile on his face.  And as he approached he said "Debbie (I wasn't Debi yet), you have a baby brother".  What?  I'll leave it at that (my brother knows the story) but I ended up being ever so happy that it was, in fact, a boy.

The other memory was the fact that this was a split class - I was with about half the class in the first grade, the other half was in the second grade.  In California in those days, the deadline to start school was December 2 and my birthday was December 14 so I just missed the cutoff to start school as a 5 year old.  Here I was in a class with 2nd graders and I wanted to do what THEY were doing, not what the first graders were doing.  So midway through the year the school (teacher? principal?) asked my parents if maybe I should skip ahead to second grade since I was more interested in what they were doing.  We talked about it for awhile and I was only too eager to move ahead.  So, I finished first and second grades in one year.  One of my friends and neighbors, John Q., always teased me that I skipped ahead because I knew the big words like THE.

On to third grade where, once again, I was at Schallenberger with Mrs. Mackey.  My most vivid memory of that year was learning to write in cursive - do they even teach that anymore?

And down to the bottom row I go.  That's me, second from right.  There's still some of these kids I'm in contact with today.  Unfortunately, my best friend from that year, Barbara (2nd row from the top, 2nd from right) moved away and I lost contact with her then.

Fourth grade brought quite a change in our household.  My sister and I were both accepted into the Able Learners program (what a stupid name) but they didn't want us in the same class.  So while I went to Willow Glen (which is where I was when JFK was killed), big sister was at Lincoln Glen.  WG was too far to walk so I'm sure Mom drove but I don't remember any of that.  I do, however, remember my teacher, Mr. Fix.

Mr. Fix was quite a character.  The only real memory I have (other than JFK's assassination) is Mr. Fix telling me my last name couldn't be pronounced Leave-y.  I told him yes it could because THAT WAS MY NAME.  He teased that I could either be Debbie Leh-vy or Deebie Leave-y.  And to this day I've never forgotten that.  There I am, bottom row (even when sitting), far left.  And I guess Barbara went to WG with me because there she is in the Girl Scout uniform.

It was time to move again for 5th grade.  Since Lincoln Glen, where my sister went, was closer to home and she had moved on to Junior High, it was decided that I should move to Lincoln Glen.  To this day I wonder why they just didn't start me in LG for two years and have my sister go to WG for her one year.  It was close enough to home (maybe 2 miles) that I could ride my bike on occasion.

Front row again - 2nd from right.  A few from this class I'm still in touch with.  Unfortunately, my dear friend, Pete, (2nd row, far right) left us years ago.  We were friends all through school and even went to college together.

Back to Schallenberger for 6th grade as an Able Learner program started at Schallenberger.  As I took my walk years ago, I snapped a photo of the classroom where our 6th grade was located - that's it on the left.  How is it that I can't remember what I had for dinner last night (okay, it was chicken) but I can remember where my classroom was more than 50 years ago?

And here's the class photo.  Look at that, I'm not in the bottom row.  I'm right next to Mrs. Long.  And I see another friend who has also passed away, Ken S. who is in the top row, 2nd from the left.

As I was preparing for this post I dug out a box of school mementos my parents saved (of course they did) all these years.  I remember dragging the box out of the storeroom as we cleaned out our childhood home but didn't really go through it until today.  Look at all the reports I did!

I did find a lone report card - where did the rest of those go? - but I'll refrain from sharing it.  I guess my good grades didn't really start until my junior high/high school years.

One memory I have is making these folders in 5th grade.  Somehow we made a stamp, decorated some paper, and then made a folder out of it.  Pretty creative way to incorporate art and other curriculum.

And for those who are convinced my memory is completely shot, I remembered all of my teachers' names without looking!

Somewhere I'm sure my individual class photos are floating around - I'll blog about those once I unearth them.

52 Ancestors: At Work

Labor Day weekend is always tough for me.  My dad, Gordon Levy, was one of the hardest working people I knew.  Between his "real" job as a stock broker or his many, many volunteer activities, it seems like there were many days in our childhood where we didn't see him - he was always off before we woke up and often times didn't get home until we were tucked in for the night.  But I know he loved every minute of it and wouldn't have had it any other way.

I've written almost every year about Dad on this weekend.  Why?  Because, my "workaholic" dad died on Labor Day, September 5, 2005.  I think the "day" gets to me more than the "date" as I can remember every detail from that day starting at 4:00 p.m. when I got "the" call.  Sometimes when I really miss my dad, I go back and read some of my previous posts.  2017  2016  2015  2011

With the exception of 10 years, Dad spent his entire working career with Dean Witter.  I know during the years the name changed along the way but it was always, always Dean Witter.  As kids we loved Dean Witter, even though I'm not sure we really understood what it was all about, and we "hated" their competitor, Merrill Lynch.

I've learned that Dean Witter founded the business in 1924 with his brother, Guy Witter, and cousins Jean and Ed Witter.  I believe there was a fifth individual involved, Fritz Janney.  In 1928 they purchased a seat on the San Francisco Stock Exchange and in 1928, joined the New York Stock Exchange.  And although they were a new business, they were able to survive the crash of 1929 and the Great Depression.

Dad joined Dean Witter in 1951 in San Jose, California.  I remember they were located at 34 N. First Street but I'm not sure if that's where they were located when Dad joined the business.

In August, 1959, Dad was appointed manager.  I was a little too young to remember it but I'm sure it called for quite a celebration - not a bad gig for a man in his early 30's.

Oakland Tribune, August 28, 1959, page 50

And then, just 5 years later, he was named managing partner.

Fresno Bee Republican
February 2, 1964
Page 93

Gordon F. Levy, manager of the firm's San Jose office and a former Fresnan, has been admitted as general partner.  He has been a manager since 1959 and will continue in this capacity.  Levy received the Young Man of the Year award in 1960 and in 1962 was honored with the distinguished citizen award in San Jose.

One of my favorite memories of Dean Witter was the Boardmarker, who at that time was Taz (or was it Taj?).  Of course I don't have a photo other than the vivid one etched in my mind but she spent her days something like this.  Can you even imagine getting the stock quotes like that?

During a speech to his Rotary club in 1999. Dad described his early years at Dean Witter like this:

Dean Witter was my career until 1974 -- I was the branch manager for 11 of those years, and I can recall when I came here in 1951, the Dow Jones Average was around 240 (now over 11,000), we did not have quote machines, copying machines, FAX machines, computers, cell phones, barely any TV -- instant communications were a thing for the future.  We had a boardmarker to keep stock quotes up to date with chalk, but EF Hutton put in an electric board to show us the wave of the future.  There was no Microsoft, Yahoo or Apple -- everyone was looking for the next IBM, and they sprouted up all around us.

I remember Dad telling me the story of trying to get his retirement benefits after his move back to Dean Witter in the 1980's.  He was asked for something to prove he had been employed there previously - an old pay stub or something - and believe it or not, my packrat father couldn't come up with anything.  But wait!  What about the photo he had of him standing with Dean Witter shaking hands.  I'm sure the photo had some proof of his employment because it worked and his retirement benefits were re-instated.

Another favorite story of his was later in his career when an older woman strolled into their office.  She looked very disheveled as she walked around the office without anyone paying attention to her.  Finally, Dad stood up and walked over to her and asked if he could help her.  "Why yes, young man, I have several hundred thousand dollars I'd like to invest and since you asked, I'd like you to do it for me".  Okay, so maybe I have the details off a little but the point was, he'd remind us, never ignore someone who might need some help no matter what they looked like or what their economic status might be.

Oh boy, would he love the excitement of the stock market today!  Although my husband and I often comment on a particularly ugly day that we're glad Dad wasn't around to witness THAT.

I've run across a few things from his Dean Witter days.  I'm sure my grandparents were happy to have their own 'private' broker to manage their transactions.

I remember as we cleaned out his office finding a bunch of scratch pads.  I've always been a bit sentimental (and have a bit of the 'save everything' mentality that has been passed down from my parents and grandparents) so I hung on to one of the pads just because.  I don't think I will ever bring myself to use one of the papers but it's fun to have it around.

Ah Dad, we miss you every day but Labor Day sure is a tough day!

Gordon Levy, c. 1960