ASK ME ABOUT YOUR GREAT-GRANDPARENTS

Our parents, and our many aunts and uncles, are all gone but not forgotten. It’s our job to keep their memories alive and speak of them to their descendants. That’s why when we accepted the invitation to a triple graduation party in Binghamton, New York we brought along family history.

The details included a description of our family relationship and the place for the graduates to learn more about their extended family on their maternal side. The note to the children of Cousin Karen, the mother of the three graduates, slightly revised:

Karen is my first cousin once removed. Her father, Joel Alan Mark, known to his 11 first cousins on his father’s side as “Alan,” is the son of my father’s brother Morris. Karen’s three children graduated in June 2024, and we drove three hours to Binghamton, New York, to celebrate with them. Their eldest child, their son Jack, graduated from college, their daughter Abigail graduated from nursing school, and their youngest child, Caleb, received his high school diploma. The celebration was on Caleb’s 18th birthday. In all these years, we never before met Abi or Caleb. The last time we were in Binghamton was for Jack’s first birthday, and he’s now a college graduate. When I think of that visit, Karen’s resemblance to me and her familiar laugh, mimicking mine, stand out.

The card, addressed to the three graduates, included a version of this note:

Aside from some sweets to honor your achievements, our gift to you three proud graduates is your family history. I knew your great-grandparents well. They were my aunt and uncle. I especially knew your great-grandfather Morris. He was my father’s older brother and lived much longer than his wife, your great-grandmother, Esther.

In an interview in our family room on my father’s 75th birthday, February 14, 1986, my husband Arnee videotaped Morris answering my questions about his life. In 1994, we named our son Moss after Morris. That’s how much we loved him.

While my grandparents passed away before I was born and, I’m named after my grandmother Sarah, I have lots of stories about them. I devoted countless hours over 36 years to piecing together our ancestry. I now have recorded our line on the Mark side to 1765.

I’ve written an 18-part blog post series from March 2022 - to August 2022, which details each branch of the families of my grandparents Sarah and Nathan, your great-great-grandparents. Now that you’ve graduated, hopefully, you’ll find time to read about the lives of your ancestors. Go to sharonmarkcohen.com, hit “blog,” and scroll through six years of weekly stories, many about your ancestors.

There are excerpts of handwritten letters from your great-grandfather’s aunts and uncles sent from Chudnov, Ukraine, where he and my father were born. We still have cousins living there today. I communicate with them and other cousins from their line residing in Russia. We even have letters your illiterate great-great-great-grandfather dictated to his sons to write.

Study and enjoy the enclosed charts of your maternal ancestry dating back to the 1700s. Feel free to get back to me with any comments or questions. This was only the tip of the iceberg.

We wish you the best in your future endeavors. Congratulations on receiving your degrees and happy 18th birthday to Caleb.

❤️Your cousins, Sharon and Arnee

We’re part of the generation of elders who would have known someone’s great-grandparents. That seems unfathomable. My brothers Nate and Al knew my grandmother who passed away before I was born, and she was Jack, Abi, and Caleb’s great-great-grandmother. Wow!

Footnote: After the party, we drove through nearby Hancock, New York, “Gateway to the Upper Delaware and the Great Western Catskills.” That was where my aunt and uncle (Jack, Abi, and Caleb’s great-grandparents) lived when I was a child. I remember their house being near the railroad and having a front porch where my aunt liked to sit.

While I remember the piano inside, only in recent years did I learn that my aunt was a piano teacher. We only visited during the summers of my youth when we were staying about an hour’s drive, at the bungalows in the foothills of the Sullivan County Catskills.

Quickly pulling the street name from my memory bank, I snapped a photo of the Maple Street sign. Upon our return home, searching through my Aunt Fannie’s old address books, I found the exact address, 3 Maple Street, Hancock, New York. My guess is that house is no longer standing, but my memories of those visits will never fade.

Enjoy the memorabilia and photos below. For more memories, see Uncle Morris and Ginger, dated 1-8-2019, at sharonmarkcohen.com). Looking forward to your comments.