|Volume 4, Issue 2||
May 1, 2001
Click on title
or scroll down
Zacharias Goldstein was born November 23, 1828, in Allertshausen, Babaria, Garmany to Kaspar Goldstein and Barbara Schmitt.
Zacharias married Margareta Barthelmas. Born on March 24, 1831 in Maroldsweisach, Baravia, Germany, she was the daughter of Kasper Barthelmas and Kunigunda Muller.
Their mother tongue was Yiddish, but most of the children spoke German and a little English.
Zacharias and Margareta had a daughter, Barbara, born February 1860, that came to the United States in 1876. She married Henry Hueller and moved to Pensacola, Florida.
A daughter, Elizabeth, born June 2, 1862, came to the United States in 1881. She married Fredric Geissel in Hamlet, Indiana then lived in South Bend, Indiana.
Son, George John, born January 10, 1865, came to the United States in 1888. He married Rose Pflugshaupt and lived in South Bend, Indiana.
Eva Barbara, a daughter born September 17, 1867 married Andrew Keb in Germany on June 22, 1889 and, after two children, came to the United States in 1892 with her husband and children.
A daughter Margaret, born June 2, 1872 came to the United States in 1889. She married Hans Seifert in 1893 in South Bend, Indiana.
John George, a son born June 17, 1874, came to the United States in 1902. He first married Anna Stadler, then later married Lena Fizel.
Daughter, Lena, born January 5, 1876 came to the United States in 1891. She married Conrad Hoffman in 1894 in South Bend, Indiana.
They had one other son (name unknown) that was still residing in Germany as of 1929.
Of the 7 children that immigrated to the United States, 6 of them, along with their decendents, remained in the St. Joseph County area.
Margareta died on June 23, 1890 in Allertshausen, Germany, followed by Zacharias on July 4, 1893.
The following letter, well written, is among the Parker family papers at Lexington. Hananiah was but eighteen when he wrote this letter. It shows his sturdy bringing up and we can well imagine the parents, John and Deliverance Parker, awaiting the return of their strong and promising son, and with him to remove to Lexington. But their hopes were never realized, for he died in the prevailing sickness sometime in 1711, having been kept in garrison after the capitulation.
“From Annapolis Royal March ye 8th 1710.
“Ever Honored father and mother after my Deuty Remembered to you and to my Grandfather and Grandmother: and my Love to all my brothers and all my friends—Hoping theas few lines of my Love Will find you in Good health as I am at this present Writing, Blessed be God for it. And this is to let you understand that I Recived youer Second Letter, and that is a verey sickly time with us and we have Lost above Three Score men that belong to New England and thear is above fifty men sick. Barnabas Cook is sick;
Daniel Dove is sick; William Hopkins is sick; Benjamin Johnson is almost well of his wounds but he has a verey bad sweling upon his thigh above his wounds but we hope he will doe well.
Sr Charles has lost 11 men out of his Regement. Coronal Whiting has lost 16 or 17 and he has 24 men sick. One man Dyed out of our company: he belonged to Wobone, his name was Robert Pierse.
Johnathan Eaton is verey sick. But we hope to see you in a little time, they that are living, but if we stay hear much Longer their will bue few of us see New England, but Sr Charles saies he will carrey us home as soon as ye govenur coms: we hope to see you in a month or six weaks If we Live—for Sir Charles is a wearey of this place and amost Discouraged and wants to het hom as much as we do.
Out of all New England men thair is but 40 men fit for Deuty, and thair is harly men Enough to berrey ye dead and look after ye sick for we berrey 2 or 3 men Everey Night: for we berrey them in Night because ye french Should not know how
many men we loos and we berrey them out of ye buring place down by ye water side below ye fort and spread ye ground leavel over them that they might not be seen. I have had a verey Easey time this winter for I have been freed from Deuty to Look after Benjamin Johnson and I have had my health as well as ever I had in my life for which I have caus to be thankfull.
I would not have you be Discouraged nor Discontented nor think ye time Long for I hope to see you Quick, for as soon as the Govenur coms hear Sr Charles sayes he will carrey us home. We hear that thair is mena coming from New York to Releave us.
But No mor at Present for I have No News to send you.
So I Remain Youer Deutyfull Son
But I desier youer prayers for me that I may be kept from sin & sicknes beeing in a dangerous place for them both: for thair is nothing but wickedness carried on hear, cursing and swearing in everey mans mouth.”
Unfortunately, no one has kept any written notes of the following
“remembrances” of things told by our grandmother, Rosina M. Schmidt Arnold
(known affectionately to the entire relation—except us—as “Aunt Rosie”).
Therefore, some of them are incomplete, some rather “fuzzy” and some
probably of more interest to her own grandchildren, rather than the
“family as a whole”.
We heard about the very little schooling “Rosie” had and how she worked in the fields of the family truck garden. That, given pumpkin seeds to plant on a hot day, when she finally tired and looked for some shade, the remaining seeds (evidently quite a few) were “dumped” under a very large stone which she was able to partly lift. Of course, her secret was out when the pumpkins grew (not very well either) from under the stone.
She used to tell that, when she did go to school (and on then learned to speak English, since only German was spoken and known at home) she would come home through what was eventually to be known as Schiller Park. That one afternoon she laid her slate (known to her as a “daffel” [or could it be “tafel”] - and that’s what it sounded like in German) on a pile of dirt but couldn’t find it when the shadows lengthened and she knew she’d better head for home. She looked so long for the slate that it was getting dark and her family became alarmed when she did not come home. Her father and some of the neighbors started out on horseback to look for her. She got home before they did and, knowing what she would get when her father came home, hid in an old discarded wood stove in the attic of the family home. Needless to say, she was found and had to take her punishment—which our (horrible) remembrance was as a whipping with her father’s belt (which he seemed to use on all as punishment—and hard).
Then there was the day her mother and father “went to market” and left “Rose” to cook for the other children. Evidently they were left to their own menu with the available resources and some of her brothers decided they would like squab. They knew there were little pigeons in the barn, caught and cleaned them for their sister to cook. However, what none of them knew was that their father was also fond of squab and had been waiting for the little pigeons to grow a few days more before he enjoyed them as a meal. He was furious when he found the squab all gone from the barn and—since no one ever breathed the secret that the children had eaten them, the father caught and killed one of the cats which he blamed for the loss of the squab.
Since grandma lived in the “old
home place” on
Jenkins Avenue (evidently after she and our grandfather were
divorced—which was a real scandal in those days) with Frank, Richard and
Herman, there were tales of Frank riding the horse into the barn and
getting knocked off—with a broken arm; Frank and Richard going to their
grandmother’s (on College Avenue—or what was then known as that) and being
given a kuchen to bring home to “Rose” which she never got, since Frank
explained (when asked about it later) that “Richard got hungry so WE sat
down and ate it.” We heard about Herman’s doll “Susie” which Richard
(known as “Nuch”) stood against the fence and shot; also about the day
Herm was told to take the horse to the blacksmith to be shod—but to clean
it first, whereupon he asked: “Must I? Can’t we just walk fast if we see
anyone we know?” (Note by Rose Mary Owen—needless to say this is still a
family joke and used as a “pass the buck” for many things.)
There were always dogs and while we don’t remember “Trixie”, it seems she was the one who—when told by grandma that it was payday on the railroad—went around to all of the “boys” at the supper table that night and collected the checks for “Maw” (as her own sons called her). We remember “Lady” (who had a much fancier name register with the AKC), the Airedale who belonged to Herm but stayed with Grandma. One Friday night it was Rose Mary’s “turn” to stay with grandma and both were awakened in the middle of the night by the furious barking of “Lady Belle”. They were both frightened as Richard was “out” (perfectly respectable term for working as used by railroaders) and more so the next morning when they found a man’s hat and the seat of a pair of men’s trousers in the backyard. Grandma explained “someone” was probably taking a short cut and got caught by the dog going over the fence.
Then there was “Mattie”, part whirehaired and part ???. She was “found” in Grandview by Herm and his wife #2, who couldn’t locate her owner and couldn’t keep her, so
gave her to grandma. She was little but mighty and even after she lost all her teeth (after which she was still young enough to have a litter of pups) didn’t hesitate to run off any kind or size of dogs who had the audacity to intrude on “her yard”.
When Richard lost his first wife, he and his eight-month old son—Dick—came “home to Maw” and Rose Mary and her sister Helen found they then had competition for the affections of “my grandma”. However, having no little brothers they allowed young Dick
to sort of serve in that capacity.
It was during that time that the inside of the “old home place” was gutted by fire one afternoon when grandma was downtown and out mother (Catherine) was baby sitting with Dick. The remains of the original log cabin—to which a one-room frame addition had been made later—were torn down, at which time they found some mahogany logs among those hand-hewn in the log cabin, as built by Fredrick J. Schmidt (or John Frederick Schmidt) when he homesteded the land he settled when he came to Columbus.
Grandma used to also tell us that the first State House in Columbus was built with the help of our great-grandfather.
The original home place (and the very large garden in which everything grew better for grandma than anyone else– including the white and purple French lilacs which rimmed the garden and totaled about 20) was partly located on a street the city of Columbus had never been able to finish, because the land did not go to the city as long as any of the Schmidt heirs were using the house. Only after the house burned and was razed was 8th Street put through in the south side of Columbus. Grandma had a modern house built on a part of the land she still owned and lived there (which Richard and Dick, also for a while—after Frank’s death—Catherine and Rose Mary, or Herm—who came home between wives) - until she passed away (rather suddenly, suffering a stroke just the day after Dick returned to his training camp in Georgia before “shipping out”, and only living a day or two after the stroke.)
We still talk about the Christmas cookies Grandma made every year—with the help of my mother after she got into the family. It started the day after Thanksgiving and, since there were no electric mixers, the cookie dough—in very large bowls (which fit into the lap between the knees) - was stirred by hand for usually at least an hour at a time. Grandma and Mon would “spell each other” and slip out of the chair while handing the spoon to the one who slipped into the chair. The finished product was stored in lard cans, pickle crocks, etc. and set up in the attic—where it was cool and dry. It was also accessible to us and I know I got it at least once for getting into the Lebkuchen before Chirstmas. Everyone who came to visit during the holidays was not only served cookies but the privileged few went home with boxes of them to enjoy, with the always burning pot of coffee on the stove in “real German homes.”
Pontchatoula Strawberry Soup
1 lb. Strawberries
1 C. wine, claret or similar wine, and Strawberry wine, in proportions:
1/4 C strawberry and 3/4 C claret or
1/2 C strawberry and 1/2 C claret
1 C. Water
1/4-1/3 C. Sugar (depending on tartness of berries and sweetness preferred)
juice of 1 lemon, and rind or 2 tsp. Orange rind dash of saltCombine and cook 10 minutes in steel or enamel pot, until fruit is soft. Put through blender. If thicker soup desired, add more strawberry puree or 1 teaspoon arrowroot or cornstarch mixed with 1/4 cup water or wine; if thinner soup desired, add up to 1 cup water or wine or combination. Strain if preferred. Chill. Check flavor and adjust to taste. Serve topped with mounds of whipped cream, unsweetened, or with 2 tablespoons sifted confectioner’s sugar and 1 tsp. Vanilla folded into cream. Sprinkle with nutmeg. Serve before a meal and keep on tart side. Serves 6.
|Five of the 9 children born to
Karl August Nelson and Britta Maria Langberg. These children (lived in
Chicago, Illinois) and one other child (lived in Kansas) immigrated from
Sweden to the United States. The picture was taken sometime between 1900
Top row left to right: Wilhelmina (married to Emil Chinlund) and Selma (married first to Lorentz Jonsson and second to Hans Waldemar Nelson)
Bottom row left to right: Henrika (married to Loth Anderson), Albin (married to Augusta Lindeen) , and Albertina (married to Claus Anderson).
Send mail to
questions or comments about this web site.