THE PHILLY BRANCH FROM CHUDNOV
My grandfather Nachman Murovany (“Nathan Mark”) hailed from a large family of seven children. Before WWI and the Russian Revolution of 1917, my grandfather and his older brother Yoil (“Louis Mark”) individually immigrated to the United States.
My grandfather Nathan settled in Newark and Granduncle Louis in Philadelphia. Granduncle Shmulik, the firstborn in the family, never emigrated. The three men had four sisters. None of my grandaunts made it to the United States.
Fortunately, at least one of the descendants of three of my four grandaunts survived and managed to immigrate to America. More about those cousins appear in this series of weekly Tuesday blog posts, highlighting the various branches of my father's extended family from Chudnov.
My cousin Alexey, living in Germany, explained the family name change from Murovany, which came about in 1938. Alexey, who grew up in Ukraine, said that his grandmother, my father’s cousin Raya, told him someone important had the less Jewish-sounding name Muravin, which the family adopted. An “a” was added at the end of Muravin, indicating the feminine, Muravina.
The family name changed one other time. That happened when my grandfather came to America in 1911. My grandfather and his brother, who lived in Philadelphia, used the same family name, my maiden name, Mark. My grandfather’s brother Louis immigrated to the United States in 1913. He entered the country at Ellis Island as Joel Munowany.
In the back of my mind, I believe I heard that Louis came over years earlier, then went back to Chudnov and returned in 1913. Due to political events abroad, his wife and four daughters could not emigrate until 1923. From that point on, Granduncle Louis’s family remained in Philadelphia, where he worked as a brick mason, although some records show a plasterer.
The fascinating thing about all that is what we learned on April 1, 2022, when Alexey told me that 1855 records recently became available showing our ancestral name spelled yet another way as Morovaniy. He checked, and the name means “made from bricks or stones/covered with the bricks or stones.” Another cousin once told me that Muravin means “little ant.” Alexey informed me that while it sounds similar, the actual meaning is what he found.
Thinking about Louis’s occupation made me laugh…talk about being “true to your name.” I also wonder how the family got the original name with the meaning, "is made from bricks?” That causes me to picture a strong, steely group of ancestors.
Ellis Island records show that Louis’s wife, Bluma, came to the United States from Tchudnow "Chudnov." She arrived on August 1, 1923, on the Rochambeau ship from LeHavre port, along with her four daughters.
Finding them would have been challenging since they used the family name Marovannick. The clue was finding Bluma’s unmarried sister, Feiga Titelman, on the manifest. Knowing her maiden name led me to Bluma and her daughters.
Throughout the years, the Philadelphia and Newark families maintained a close relationship. See A Smile for Flora, dated December 25, 2018, Anna From the Farm, dated January 1, 2019, and When Sharon Met Solly, dated May 28, 2019.
I suppose I haven’t done a blog post about Fannie from Philadelphia (1906 - 1946). Fannie from Philly (as our family referred to her, not to be confused with my father’s sister, my Aunt Fannie), the second of four daughters of Louis and his wife Bluma, died before I was born.
Fannie from Philly’s three children attended two parties at the home of Cousin Elaine, Flora’s sister, in 2001 and 2002. Flora, memorialized in A Smile For Flora, and her sister Elaine were the middle two of four girls of Bluma and Louis’s youngest of four daughters, Esther.
On each occasion at Elaine’s, memories of my parents streamed from thoughts of the childhoods of Louis’s descendants. My mother was with us at Elaine’s, in 2001. It also didn’t hurt that I brought along pictures to share from those days of yore.
A mild-mannered Sam, the son of Fannie from Philly, was at one event at Cousin Elaine’s with his lovely wife, Beatrice. Before her demise, Bea sent me Sam’s photo in uniform during the Korean War.
Sam and his two younger sisters lost their mother in 1946 to natural causes at age 40. Sam was 15 at the time.
Bluma, Louis, and their children were my father’s nearest and dearest relatives. Regularly remembered by our elders throughout the years with fondness, they were some of the most special people in the lives of our family.
Accompanied by handwritten letters from my Granduncle, my files overflow with wedding invitations, birth announcements, and bar and bat mitzvah invitations from his list of descendants.
A collection of photos from “Philly’s” most important life events was handed down to me by my aunt and my parents. Understandably, they were hoping the family bond would continue throughout future generations. My aim is to bridge any gaps.
Some important documents are available online. Seeing that my granduncle Louis needed to consent to his 18-year-old daughter’s marriage in Philadelphia in 1926 was eye-opening.
Ofttimes, documents are confusing. While I do not have the wedding photo of Louis’s daughter Esther, I found her license to marry online. Recorded as Esther Marks with an “s” at the end of the name, her mother, Bluma, is mysteriously listed as Lena.
Upon piecing together all the family facts, it is clear that the records online add details to our family tree. Everyone, however, should be cautioned about the factual contents of the online documents.
What appears to have happened in this case is that the clerk filling out the forms could not understand the applicant’s accent. Whereas Esther’s intended signed his name as Charles Pecarsky, the clerk probably sounded it out and wrote Peckrsky. “A Rose By Any Other Name…” With all the adjustments in the names and other facts, I have skillfully managed to piece together the family puzzle and continue to enjoy the process.