The names used here express the relationships to my children, i.e. Grandmother Piotrowski is the Grandmother of Stephen, Michael, Kenny, Adam, Eric, and Joel.
PIOTROWSKI/CZARNECKI
Grandmother Piotrowski--(Victoria Czarnecki Piotrowski, b. 3-8-10; d. 7-17-79) Donald’s mother was a
good cook and a great baker. She worked at her family's Oaza Bakery (The o and a are both pronounced
like “oasis.”) as a cake decorator, winning prizes and making many beautiful wedding cakes. When we
visited, she would have cherries from a tree I. Her yard made into a pie in a huge sheet pan,, a cake or two, cookies, and coffee cakes. Pumpernickel bread from her family’s bakery was always on hand to eat with butter and sugary Michigan clover honey. The bread was heavy and flavorful, much better than today's pumpernickel, which is usually just regular bread or rye bread colored with molasses.
Grandma Piotrowski served a lot of whatever the garden was producing when we were there. One year
we had lots of fresh green beans cooked many different ways. One favorite way is to cook the beans
until just tender, and then sprinkle or toss with bread crumbs toasted in butter until golden brown.
Homemade Polish sausage was always on the menu, too. No project was too big for Vicky, she would
undertake just about anything.
we had lots of fresh green beans cooked many different ways. One favorite way is to cook the beans
until just tender, and then sprinkle or toss with bread crumbs toasted in butter until golden brown.
Homemade Polish sausage was always on the menu, too. No project was too big for Vicky, she would
undertake just about anything.
She worked at the bakery during a time when women were not allowed to be members of the bakers’
union. Each year there was a union cake-decorating contest. She entered a cake as V. Piotrowski and
won first prize. When they found out she was a woman, she was given a certificate, but not first prize.
Eventually, change came through the efforts of Grandma Piotrowski and other women like her, and when
she retired, she was a union member.
union. Each year there was a union cake-decorating contest. She entered a cake as V. Piotrowski and
won first prize. When they found out she was a woman, she was given a certificate, but not first prize.
Eventually, change came through the efforts of Grandma Piotrowski and other women like her, and when
she retired, she was a union member.
Grandfather Piotrowski--(Maximilian Patrick Piotrowski, b. 10-12-10; d. 2-15-89) In the spring Donald’s
dad went out with his friends to hunt mushrooms and came home with many wild mushrooms, which he
fried in butter. He also bought canned mushrooms by the case from a nearby mushroom farm. The man
just liked mushrooms.
dad went out with his friends to hunt mushrooms and came home with many wild mushrooms, which he
fried in butter. He also bought canned mushrooms by the case from a nearby mushroom farm. The man
just liked mushrooms.
Dad was a taxidermist after the age of about 45 after working for Dodge Truck for many years. He would make venison burgers from the neck strap of deer that were brought to his shop. He fried the deer patties in deep bacon grease. They tasted delicious and were never dry. “Pat” liked nothing better than to treat everyone to a meal out on the town, usually fish--perch, pickerel or smelt from the Great Lakes. Sometimes this involved driving to Canada from Detroit to a special place on the other side of the Detroit River that served “all you can eat.” It was always an adventure as we had to go through customs at the Canadian border which made it seem much more exotic than it was. The pistol he always kept under the seat of his car, which was illegal when crossing the border, added to the adventure.
Father--(Donald Patrick Piotrowski, b. 5-21-33; d. 7-13-01) Donald was born in Hamtramck, Michigan,
which, particularly at that time, was the Polish area of Detroit. His great uncle Boleslaw “Bill” Czarnecki
and then Don’s Uncle Harry Czarnecki, his mother’s brother, owned a Polish bakery in Hamtramck (Oaza Bakeries), which eventually became a chain of bakeries throughout the Detroit area.
which, particularly at that time, was the Polish area of Detroit. His great uncle Boleslaw “Bill” Czarnecki
and then Don’s Uncle Harry Czarnecki, his mother’s brother, owned a Polish bakery in Hamtramck (Oaza Bakeries), which eventually became a chain of bakeries throughout the Detroit area.
When Donald was in high school, he worked in the bakery and planned to make that his life work until he
did some research for a paper he was writing as a class assignment. He suddenly realized that what
looked like good pay to a teenager didn’t look so great when compared to other occupations.
When our children were small, birthday cakes were always decorated by their dad. Donald was frequently the breakfast cook, both at home and at St. George Island. Otherwise he cooked when necessary, or when the spirit moved him. On a day to day basis, when he cooked it was because he was hungry or it would please me, not to satisfy his creative urges. But he did get creative when it came to seafood or grilling. He was also the primary gardener in the family, and when we had a huge garden, we stayed up past midnight many nights in the spring canning and freezing. Most important of all he was a willing taster, never afraid to try something new. He very diplomatically remained silent about those things that didn’t work so well, and commended those that did. I did the same for his efforts, remaining quiet (most of the time) about a mixture of canned salmon, onions, and vinegar which he ate cold over boiled potatoes, a dish he remembered his mother making.
MELCHER
Grandmother Melcher--(Alpha Mickler Melcher, b. 10-26-1898; d. 4-10-89) Stephen, Kenny, and
Michael’s grandmother, Alpha Melcher, was one of the nicest, kindest people I ever met. Her family was
among the Minorcans who settled in St. Augustine. Donald remembered her great Shrimp Pilau. She
was always going to give me the recipe, but we didn’t get around to it, so I have included a similar recipe.
Grandmother Melcher--(Alpha Mickler Melcher, b. 10-26-1898; d. 4-10-89) Stephen, Kenny, and
Michael’s grandmother, Alpha Melcher, was one of the nicest, kindest people I ever met. Her family was
among the Minorcans who settled in St. Augustine. Donald remembered her great Shrimp Pilau. She
was always going to give me the recipe, but we didn’t get around to it, so I have included a similar recipe.
If the boys asked what she was cooking for dinner, she would say, “Black eyed peas and monkey liver,” a
saying we picked up and used thousands of times as the children were growing up.
saying we picked up and used thousands of times as the children were growing up.
Mother--(Esther Alpha Melcher Piotrowski, b. 3-18-36; d. 3-30-21) Stephen, Michael, and Kenny’s
mother, Esther, had to put up with a lot of comparisons, as I did, while the boys got used to eating in
another kitchen. I remember during the Piotrowski family reunion at St. George Island in 1983 we
laughed over some of the obstacles we had overcome. That was a time we enjoyed cooking together, no
comparisons. She made great German potato salad and Banana Pudding, which I remember well from holiday dinners we all shared.
mother, Esther, had to put up with a lot of comparisons, as I did, while the boys got used to eating in
another kitchen. I remember during the Piotrowski family reunion at St. George Island in 1983 we
laughed over some of the obstacles we had overcome. That was a time we enjoyed cooking together, no
comparisons. She made great German potato salad and Banana Pudding, which I remember well from holiday dinners we all shared.
MARTIN/PETERS
Great Great Grandmother Martin--(Sarah Hopkins Martin, b. 1-26-1844; d. 4-29-25) My mother’s paternal
grandmother. The only thing I know about my great grandmother Martin is that she was a large woman
and very stern. At least that’s my interpretation of conversations overheard as a child. Her daughter,
Martha, was evidently a very good cook, and a number of her recipes were preserved by my Aunt Opal,
mostly cakes and desserts.
Great Great Grandmother Martin--(Sarah Hopkins Martin, b. 1-26-1844; d. 4-29-25) My mother’s paternal
grandmother. The only thing I know about my great grandmother Martin is that she was a large woman
and very stern. At least that’s my interpretation of conversations overheard as a child. Her daughter,
Martha, was evidently a very good cook, and a number of her recipes were preserved by my Aunt Opal,
mostly cakes and desserts.
Great Great Grandmother Peters--(Jerusha Catherine Craft Peters, b. 2-27-1856; d. 7-22-48) My
mother’s maternal grandmother. The only recipes I have of hers are for two types of cream pie. I know
she baked bread, as she fell and broke her hip when she was in her late eighties while opening the oven door to check on the bread she was baking. She was a small slender woman and no doubt had osteoporosis. She remained bedridden for the rest of her life, a number of years. Her daughter, my great aunt Pearl Peters, who never married, took care of her in their little house in Glenfield, North Dakota, until she died.
mother’s maternal grandmother. The only recipes I have of hers are for two types of cream pie. I know
she baked bread, as she fell and broke her hip when she was in her late eighties while opening the oven door to check on the bread she was baking. She was a small slender woman and no doubt had osteoporosis. She remained bedridden for the rest of her life, a number of years. Her daughter, my great aunt Pearl Peters, who never married, took care of her in their little house in Glenfield, North Dakota, until she died.
Great Grandmother Martin--(Bertha Mae Peters Martin, b.12-15-1886; d. 8-2-70) My maternal
grandmother, who I loved dearly. I remember Grandma Martin’s cooking well. She made homemade donuts (cake type) and cooked the holes for me. She was a great pie maker and made bread every week.
She had an old fashioned crock churn in which she made butter, and I remember when I was about 6 or 7
being allowed to slosh the wooden plunger up and down in the crock until the cream separated into butter
and whey. She would then skim the solid butter chunks out of the whey and put them in a wooden bowl.
She worked the butter with a wooden paddle, adding cool water and mixing it in, and then squeezing it
out to cleanse the butter of all the whey and to form it into a solid mound.
grandmother, who I loved dearly. I remember Grandma Martin’s cooking well. She made homemade donuts (cake type) and cooked the holes for me. She was a great pie maker and made bread every week.
She had an old fashioned crock churn in which she made butter, and I remember when I was about 6 or 7
being allowed to slosh the wooden plunger up and down in the crock until the cream separated into butter
and whey. She would then skim the solid butter chunks out of the whey and put them in a wooden bowl.
She worked the butter with a wooden paddle, adding cool water and mixing it in, and then squeezing it
out to cleanse the butter of all the whey and to form it into a solid mound.
Grandma Martin could whip up a little lunch out of practically nothing. My school was a short walk away and often I would show up at lunch unannounced. One lunch I remember best is the way
she would stretch one boiled potato by tearing up a slice or two of bread and adding it to the potato and
then mixing an egg with the bread and potato and frying them together. It was good and would feed
Grandpa and Grandma and me for lunch with bread, butter, and jam.
then mixing an egg with the bread and potato and frying them together. It was good and would feed
Grandpa and Grandma and me for lunch with bread, butter, and jam.
I’m sure this is a skill she learned early in her marriage when she and Grandpa and her parents, Abram
and Jerusha Peters, traveled from Iowa and homesteaded in sod houses on the prairie near Max, North
Dakota.
and Jerusha Peters, traveled from Iowa and homesteaded in sod houses on the prairie near Max, North
Dakota.
My aunt, Opal Dietrich, had this poem taped on the inside cover of one of her old cookbooks. She said
she put it there as a tribute to her mother, my Grandma Martin.
she put it there as a tribute to her mother, my Grandma Martin.
Mother's Cookbook
Mother had a cookbook
And everybody said
Since it was never written
She "kept it in her head."
But we who were consuming
The products of her art
Were more of the opinion
She kept it in her heart.
Mother had a cookbook
And everybody said
Since it was never written
She "kept it in her head."
But we who were consuming
The products of her art
Were more of the opinion
She kept it in her heart.
Aunt Opal said that when she'd ask her mother to tell her how she made something, she'd say, "Oh, I just
put in some of this and some of that."
put in some of this and some of that."
The year Aunt Opal graduated from high school, she went to visit relatives in Iowa where she got a lot of
recipes that she eventually shared with me.. Aunt Opal related that she came down with appendicitis, and
her mother had to come and get her in Iowa and take her home to North Dakota to mend.
recipes that she eventually shared with me.. Aunt Opal related that she came down with appendicitis, and
her mother had to come and get her in Iowa and take her home to North Dakota to mend.
Great Grandfather Martin--(Lewis Leroy Martin, b. 5-8-1884; d. 6-13-57) Grandpa was famous among the
"Odd Fellows" (sort of like the Masons or Shriners) for his oyster stew. Once a year they would have an
oyster stew supper. He had to order the oysters special, as they weren’t readily available in North
Dakota. Grandpa started right after breakfast and would cook the soup for hours. When the stew was
done, the oysters were shriveled up little pieces of leather, but the stew tasted great. When he let me
sample a bowl before carrying the stew off to the lodge, I would add lots of crackers, and Grandpa always
fussed, "You're ruining that good oyster stew with all them crackers, Jenny."
"Odd Fellows" (sort of like the Masons or Shriners) for his oyster stew. Once a year they would have an
oyster stew supper. He had to order the oysters special, as they weren’t readily available in North
Dakota. Grandpa started right after breakfast and would cook the soup for hours. When the stew was
done, the oysters were shriveled up little pieces of leather, but the stew tasted great. When he let me
sample a bowl before carrying the stew off to the lodge, I would add lots of crackers, and Grandpa always
fussed, "You're ruining that good oyster stew with all them crackers, Jenny."
Grandpa Martin also made head cheese, which is a type of sausage or luncheon meat made from a hog's
head. He boiled the hog's head until the meat fell off the bones. Then he cut everything he could get off
the hog's head into little pieces. Vinegar and spices were added to the broth and poured over the
chopped meat in a loaf pan and set outside overnight to chill. The broth congealed solidly and the meat
could be sliced. I loved Grandpa's head cheese.
head. He boiled the hog's head until the meat fell off the bones. Then he cut everything he could get off
the hog's head into little pieces. Vinegar and spices were added to the broth and poured over the
chopped meat in a loaf pan and set outside overnight to chill. The broth congealed solidly and the meat
could be sliced. I loved Grandpa's head cheese.
He always gave me the chicken feet to eat. I don't remember what he did with the rest of the chicken,
maybe he was making chicken soup. I just remember holding a chicken foot and eating it. The
little pad in the middle of the foot was the prize.
maybe he was making chicken soup. I just remember holding a chicken foot and eating it. The
little pad in the middle of the foot was the prize.
Grandpa Martin liked to eat vanilla ice cream with saltine crackers. Sounds weird, but try it some time, it’s
interesting. The combination of sweet and salty hits every single taste bud. He also liked Limburger cheese (the smelliest awful stuff), and he liked to make the thinnest buckwheat pancakes. They were really crepes or blini.
interesting. The combination of sweet and salty hits every single taste bud. He also liked Limburger cheese (the smelliest awful stuff), and he liked to make the thinnest buckwheat pancakes. They were really crepes or blini.
Grandmother Weisz--(Merle Genevieve Martin Weisz; b.10-23-06; d. 4-28-01) Mother continued to putter
in her kitchen until she was 91 and finally could no longer do for herself. She was always a creative cook.
She didn’t use many recipes and liked to improvise. It's hard to reproduce most of her dishes, because
she made them different every time. Usually they were good. I remember her serving Gazpacho in the
early 50s. We called it “cold soup” so Dad would eat it without too much suspicion. His family used to eat
cold fruit soup, a German custom they brought from Ukraine with them.
in her kitchen until she was 91 and finally could no longer do for herself. She was always a creative cook.
She didn’t use many recipes and liked to improvise. It's hard to reproduce most of her dishes, because
she made them different every time. Usually they were good. I remember her serving Gazpacho in the
early 50s. We called it “cold soup” so Dad would eat it without too much suspicion. His family used to eat
cold fruit soup, a German custom they brought from Ukraine with them.
When I was a little girl, my dad would hire a crew of men to help with haying or harvesting, and
Mother fed them. Each day she would cook all morning. At lunch time we would load the food in the car
and take it hot to the men in the field. It always smelled so good. There was always a cake or some other
sweet for dessert. It was a lot of work getting ready and getting it out to them with eating utensils and
drinks. There were no paper plates or plastic cups. Then back to the kitchen to wash up and clean up.
One thing I liked the best was a dish she made by simmering potato chunks with ham in a big roasting
pan and then adding yeast dough to the top for dumplings and steaming until done. This was stick-to-
your-ribs stuff and tasted great. She made good cakes and pies, and often baked holiday bread (Stollen)
at Christmas--yeast bread with candied fruits worked into it, baked in small loaves or coffee cans to take
to friends and neighbors for Christmas morning breakfast.
Mother fed them. Each day she would cook all morning. At lunch time we would load the food in the car
and take it hot to the men in the field. It always smelled so good. There was always a cake or some other
sweet for dessert. It was a lot of work getting ready and getting it out to them with eating utensils and
drinks. There were no paper plates or plastic cups. Then back to the kitchen to wash up and clean up.
One thing I liked the best was a dish she made by simmering potato chunks with ham in a big roasting
pan and then adding yeast dough to the top for dumplings and steaming until done. This was stick-to-
your-ribs stuff and tasted great. She made good cakes and pies, and often baked holiday bread (Stollen)
at Christmas--yeast bread with candied fruits worked into it, baked in small loaves or coffee cans to take
to friends and neighbors for Christmas morning breakfast.
When I was a child, my mother always had a garden, and there was a small orchard on the farm in North
Dakota when we moved there. There were crab apples, plums, gooseberries, and currants for pies and
jams. On the other side of the house was a rhubarb patch. When we moved to Florida, there were
pecans and figs and blackberries on our property.
Dakota when we moved there. There were crab apples, plums, gooseberries, and currants for pies and
jams. On the other side of the house was a rhubarb patch. When we moved to Florida, there were
pecans and figs and blackberries on our property.
In North Dakota in the winter, we had apples purchased by the bushel that were stored in the basement.
There were also carrots, cabbages, and potatoes by the bushel in the basement and many, many jars of
canned fruit, vegetables, and meat. A barrel of fish would be ordered from Alaska and left outside in the snow. It included cod and halibut and maybe other large fish. Mother usually baked large chunks of the fish and served them with melted butter.
There were also carrots, cabbages, and potatoes by the bushel in the basement and many, many jars of
canned fruit, vegetables, and meat. A barrel of fish would be ordered from Alaska and left outside in the snow. It included cod and halibut and maybe other large fish. Mother usually baked large chunks of the fish and served them with melted butter.
WEISZ
Grandfather Weisz--(Adam Weisz--b. 8-20-11; d. 4-23-98) I don't remember my dad cooking until his later
years, and then he would warm up a can of soup and open a can of fruit. He liked to eat chocolate cake
with butter on it. His mother made cakes but didn't frost them, and this is the way he learned to eat cake.
Sugar was probably too dear to waste on frosting, especially enough for twelve children. Dad was not
fussy about food and would eat whatever was put in front of him. He had a sweet tooth and liked his
dessert after the meal while still at the table rather than an hour or two later as we often eat it.
Grandfather Weisz--(Adam Weisz--b. 8-20-11; d. 4-23-98) I don't remember my dad cooking until his later
years, and then he would warm up a can of soup and open a can of fruit. He liked to eat chocolate cake
with butter on it. His mother made cakes but didn't frost them, and this is the way he learned to eat cake.
Sugar was probably too dear to waste on frosting, especially enough for twelve children. Dad was not
fussy about food and would eat whatever was put in front of him. He had a sweet tooth and liked his
dessert after the meal while still at the table rather than an hour or two later as we often eat it.
Mother--(Janis Jane Weisz Piotrowski, b.7-30-39; d. ) I was born at home on a little farm rented
by my parents near Sutton, North Dakota. Sutton is a small town on the plains surrounded by wheat
fields and was populated mostly by Scandinavians. My sister, Carolyn Susan Ann, came along five years
later. When I was two or three, we moved to a new farm my parents bought on the other side of town. It
had a big white house built in the early 1900s. This is where I remember living until we moved to Florida.
My dad raised grain on 1000 acres of land and had a few cows, sheep, and pigs and two horses. My mother grew a beautiful garden, helped in the fields, cooked for the many hired hands and drove wherever necessary to get parts for repairs and farm supplies on a moment’s notice.
by my parents near Sutton, North Dakota. Sutton is a small town on the plains surrounded by wheat
fields and was populated mostly by Scandinavians. My sister, Carolyn Susan Ann, came along five years
later. When I was two or three, we moved to a new farm my parents bought on the other side of town. It
had a big white house built in the early 1900s. This is where I remember living until we moved to Florida.
My dad raised grain on 1000 acres of land and had a few cows, sheep, and pigs and two horses. My mother grew a beautiful garden, helped in the fields, cooked for the many hired hands and drove wherever necessary to get parts for repairs and farm supplies on a moment’s notice.
The late 40s and early 50s, after WWII, provided a brief period of prosperity for small grain farmers. For relief from the long hard hours spent growing and harvesting grain crops, in 1948 my folks became “snowbirds” in the winter and traveled South pulling a trailer house, the first winter to Arlington, Texas, and subsequent winters to Lakeland, Florida. After several years my dad became fascinated with the cattle industry in Florida, and Mom and Dad spent an entire winter driving around Florida, looking at farmland.
After considering Belle Glade and other areas with rich black soil (because it looked like the black soil of North Dakota), they decided on a 500-acre farm near Madison, Florida (with rich red soil), where we moved in 1951. I was 12 years old.
I was a picky eater in my teen years and didn’t care to learn about the joys of Southern cooking. It was
just as weird as everything else to my rebellious taste buds. Dinner on the grounds at our church changed my mind. After I left home and had to fend for myself, I learned to appreciate home cooking and returned frequently to enjoy my mother’s meals. I also enjoyed eating in the homes of my Southern friends’ parents. From those good cooks, I learned the pleasures of garden-fresh creamed corn, field peas, fried okra, summer squash, cornbread, and peach pie. I learned that you just don’t serve sliced tomatoes without peeling them first, and sweet tea became my beverage of choice.
just as weird as everything else to my rebellious taste buds. Dinner on the grounds at our church changed my mind. After I left home and had to fend for myself, I learned to appreciate home cooking and returned frequently to enjoy my mother’s meals. I also enjoyed eating in the homes of my Southern friends’ parents. From those good cooks, I learned the pleasures of garden-fresh creamed corn, field peas, fried okra, summer squash, cornbread, and peach pie. I learned that you just don’t serve sliced tomatoes without peeling them first, and sweet tea became my beverage of choice.
But no matter how good Southern cooking is, I still remember the creative things my mother cooked, the
German cooking of my grandmother Weisz, the delicious “make do” cooking of my grandmother Martin,
who could create something out of nothing, and the Scandinavian flavors experienced in a community
settled by Swedes and Norwegians. Their church suppers included, lutefisk, lefsa, Swedish meatballs and mashed potatoes, and rosettes for dessert.
German cooking of my grandmother Weisz, the delicious “make do” cooking of my grandmother Martin,
who could create something out of nothing, and the Scandinavian flavors experienced in a community
settled by Swedes and Norwegians. Their church suppers included, lutefisk, lefsa, Swedish meatballs and mashed potatoes, and rosettes for dessert.
Great Grandmother Weisz--(Pauline Ketterling Weisz, b.4-29-1890; d. 10-2-85) Grandma Weisz was a
good German cook. She made bread in large quantities, and often when we were coming to visit, she
would make large batches of noodles for soup. She would roll them and cut them by hand and spread
them out on a clean sheet on an upstairs bed to dry. Sometimes on the first night of a visit, Grandma had
to remove the noodles from the bed before we could go to sleep.
good German cook. She made bread in large quantities, and often when we were coming to visit, she
would make large batches of noodles for soup. She would roll them and cut them by hand and spread
them out on a clean sheet on an upstairs bed to dry. Sometimes on the first night of a visit, Grandma had
to remove the noodles from the bed before we could go to sleep.
When we would arrive, Grandma Weisz would be in the kitchen, cooking something for us to eat the
minute we came in the door. She’d always greet us with a big hug and a special word for each of us, and
then she’d be back to cooking. My favorite memories of Grandma Weisz’s cooking always include
kuchen, a German coffee cake made with yeast dough and a fruit and custard filling, or a cheese filling
made from cottage cheese and eggs.
minute we came in the door. She’d always greet us with a big hug and a special word for each of us, and
then she’d be back to cooking. My favorite memories of Grandma Weisz’s cooking always include
kuchen, a German coffee cake made with yeast dough and a fruit and custard filling, or a cheese filling
made from cottage cheese and eggs.
Breakfast at Grandma Weisz's was homemade bread, butter, and jam, homemade German sausage, and
a cheese made from cottage cheese to which soda is added. This melts the cheese and makes it semi-
transparent. It is then poured into a loaf pan to congeal and is sliced to serve. There might also be some
fruit, or pickles or other types of cold meat--and of course, kuchen.
a cheese made from cottage cheese to which soda is added. This melts the cheese and makes it semi-
transparent. It is then poured into a loaf pan to congeal and is sliced to serve. There might also be some
fruit, or pickles or other types of cold meat--and of course, kuchen.
When they were first married, she and Grandpa Weisz traveled from Hosmer, South Dakota, a settlement
of Germans from Russia, and made their home near Lehr, North Dakota. They built a home, a barn and
outbuildings. There they raised their family of 12 children, six boys and six girls. I often think of the work
involved in feeding and caring for that many children.
of Germans from Russia, and made their home near Lehr, North Dakota. They built a home, a barn and
outbuildings. There they raised their family of 12 children, six boys and six girls. I often think of the work
involved in feeding and caring for that many children.
Great Grandfather Weisz--(Jacob Weisz, b. 3-8-1889; d. 9-12-72) I don’t remember Grandpa Weisz
cooking. I think like most men of his generation, he left the cooking to his wife. He ate Grandma’s food
with relish, but if he had preferences, I didn’t know it. He spoke English quite well, although with a heavy
German accent. Still, much of the conversation at his house was in German, which my Mother and I
didn’t understand.
cooking. I think like most men of his generation, he left the cooking to his wife. He ate Grandma’s food
with relish, but if he had preferences, I didn’t know it. He spoke English quite well, although with a heavy
German accent. Still, much of the conversation at his house was in German, which my Mother and I
didn’t understand.
My Dad talked often of the butchering and preserving his parents did to feed a large family. It really must
have been something. One of Dad’s favorite memories was his dad pickling whole watermelons in
barrels and how good they were.
have been something. One of Dad’s favorite memories was his dad pickling whole watermelons in
barrels and how good they were.
At some point, Grandpa Weisz’s mother, Christina Rau Weisz, came to live with them. Grandpa built her
a small A-frame house near the main house and she lived there until she became too frail to live on her
own, when they moved her into their home. My Dad, Adam, remembered his Grandma (Christina) Weisz
with great affection. She was always there to comfort him when he rebelled against what he felt was his
Dad’s overly strict parenting. Adam was the second child and the oldest son. Some of the younger
uncles and aunts remember a much different father, more indulgent and less demanding.
a small A-frame house near the main house and she lived there until she became too frail to live on her
own, when they moved her into their home. My Dad, Adam, remembered his Grandma (Christina) Weisz
with great affection. She was always there to comfort him when he rebelled against what he felt was his
Dad’s overly strict parenting. Adam was the second child and the oldest son. Some of the younger
uncles and aunts remember a much different father, more indulgent and less demanding.
While all of my grandparents have interesting histories, what we know of Christina’s is perhaps the most
poignant. Christina Barbara Rau was German, born in Bergdorf, Glueckstal Colonies, South Russia, in
1848. She was married three times, the first time to a man named Andreas Stein. They had three
children, all of whom died, one as a baby, one at age 4, and the oldest at age 11. This husband
abandoned her. She then married Eduard Heinrich Jesser or Jesse. They had five children--a daughter,
twin sons and another set of twins, one a girl and the other stillborn, gender unknown. All apparently
died, although death records are only available on two of them. Many children were lost to flu epidemics
and other diseases during those times. Her second husband was killed in September, 1885, three months before the birth of the last set of twins. Family legend has it that he was attacked by robbers in the field, or riding in his buggy.
poignant. Christina Barbara Rau was German, born in Bergdorf, Glueckstal Colonies, South Russia, in
1848. She was married three times, the first time to a man named Andreas Stein. They had three
children, all of whom died, one as a baby, one at age 4, and the oldest at age 11. This husband
abandoned her. She then married Eduard Heinrich Jesser or Jesse. They had five children--a daughter,
twin sons and another set of twins, one a girl and the other stillborn, gender unknown. All apparently
died, although death records are only available on two of them. Many children were lost to flu epidemics
and other diseases during those times. Her second husband was killed in September, 1885, three months before the birth of the last set of twins. Family legend has it that he was attacked by robbers in the field, or riding in his buggy.
Christina came to America with her brother and his family and in 1888 married Philipp Jacob Weisz. He
had emigrated in 1884 with his wife, Anna Maria Burkhardt, and their seven surviving children (from a
total of 12). Soon after they reached America, Anna Maria died. Philipp and Christina almost surely
knew each other in Russia/Ukraine as their families were both from the small town of Bergdorf. In 1889, when Christina was 41, they had a son, my grandfather Jacob Weisz. In 1890, they had another son, Gottlieb. Both survived to old age. How precious those little boys must have been to her.
had emigrated in 1884 with his wife, Anna Maria Burkhardt, and their seven surviving children (from a
total of 12). Soon after they reached America, Anna Maria died. Philipp and Christina almost surely
knew each other in Russia/Ukraine as their families were both from the small town of Bergdorf. In 1889, when Christina was 41, they had a son, my grandfather Jacob Weisz. In 1890, they had another son, Gottlieb. Both survived to old age. How precious those little boys must have been to her.
In 1894, when Jacob was six and Gottlieb was five, Philipp died of pneumonia. Christina as left with his older children and their two small sons. She continued to farm with the help of the older boys, and homesteaded an additional 160 acres in her own name after Philipp’s death. My Dad and aunts and uncles all remember her as a wonderful, kind, loving grandmother who loved to sit in what she called her “reading corner” and read her German bible. She must have had a strong faith to survive all she did. She died on March 5, 1934, five years before I was born.
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