The Greenberg’s Arrive
Edith Greenberg wife of Aaron Minkowsky / mother of Samuel & Norbert Mink / grandmother of Sharon Mink Rosenthal, Susan aka Nancy Mink Davis & David Mink
Born: February 20, 1885 /Uman, Ukraine
Died: April 28, 1948 /Miami, FL
Edith Greenberg Minkowsky. I see so many of us, her descendents in her face.
Unlike Aaron, my grandfather, who arrived in Philadelphia by himself, my grandmother, Edith Greenberg came en masse, with her entire family. Her oldest brother, Simcha, stayed behind with his wife and 2 young daughters. They would follow a few years later.
Greenbergs in Uman, Ukraine
Standing L to R : Edith, David, Gertrude, Simcha, Claire ( Simcha’s wife), Housekeeper
Sitting L to R: Rose, Shaiva,? ( baby on lap)/ Israel
On the floor L to R : Morris, Solomon
Missing from the photo : Alex & Anna
The Greenbergs arrived in New York on November 7th, 1901 on the S.S. Columbia, which sailed 10 days earlier from Hamburg, Germany. I am not sure how they got from Russia to Germany. The ship manifest lists the family with their Yiddish names. The parents, Yisrael (Israel) and Baschewe (Shaiva) were both 40 years old. Israel’s occupation was listed as a Paper Hanger.
The children were listed as follows:
David 20
Gudis (Edith) 17(my grandmother)
Gillel (Gertrude) 16
Etta (Anna) 12
Rosine (Rose) 8
Zelig (Alex) 6
Moishe (Morris) 3
Solomon (Sam) 2
The Greenberg Family 1914 Philadelphia, PA.
Back row standing L to R: Claire ( SImcha’s wife), Victoria (aka Rose, David’s wife), Solomon, Morris, Rose Greenberg Melinson, Alex, Samuel Melinson (Rose’s husband) , Anna Greenberg Friedman), Aaron Minkowsky ( Edith’s husband)
Seated L to R: Simcha with baby on lap, David, Shaiva Matriarch of the family, Louis Friedman ( Anna’s husband) , Edith Greenberg Minkowsky with son, Norbert Minkowsky on lap , Jeanette ( Simcha & Claire’s oldest daughter).
On the floor L to R: Minerva ( Simcha & Claire’s second daughter), Gertrude Friedman ( Anna & Louis’s daughter) , Dora ( Simcha & Claire’s third daughter), Isadore/Irving ( Simcha & Claire’s only son) , Samuel Minkowsky ( Edith & Aarons older son who later changed last name to MInk on May 15, 1930)
Not pictured: Israel the patriarch who passed away in 1905
They were met by Zelig Barenbaum, who was a first cousin living at 521 Queen St, in Philadelphia, the final destination of their journey.
Edith married Aaron, 7 years later and they had two sons Sam ( my father born in 1909 and named after Samuel Minkowsky, Aaron’s brother who died at an early age in Zhytomr) & Norbert (born 1914 ). In 1918, at age 34 Edith became a widow and she raised her two sons as a single mom.
Sam, Edith & Norbert circa 1924
Sam, Edith & Norbert 1928 5321 Chanellor St. Philadelphia, PA.
Edith & Norbert 1944, Miami
Norbert, Edith, Sam
Edith, Bucha, Rose & Sharon Mink Rosenthal 1945
Edith died in 1948, when I was 1 years old. I have no memories of her. My sisters and I grew up with my Uncle Morris ( Edith’s brother who was 14 years younger) and his family as substitute grandparents on my father’s side. We would be together for Jewish holidays and special occasions or simchas as I like to call them.
In the 1980’s, my Uncle Morris had a conversation with his granddaughter, Nina Hopen Betinsky, my cousin, about the early story of the family in America. She taped it and later had it transcribed. Unfortunately, there are places where the paper jammed and it’s illegible, but the stories that are clear give a rare and realistic view of the life of a new immigrant family.
You can read the transcript below:
I was four years old when I already smelled the revolution coming to Russia. The Czar and his family owned the entire country of Russia, and the majority of the people, mostly Greek Catholics, were illiterate farmers.
It was said that when a leader of the Greek Catholic hierarchy visited
Russia the illiterates would fall to their knees and follow the visitors everywhere. My mother used to tell me she saw it done many times.
The Jewish people at that time, on the other hand, were literate; they were the produce merchants. They packed the produce and sent it to warehouses, keeping records of everything for the government.
(During the revolution, there were quite a number of young Jewish revolutionaries. One of the leaders was Molotov, who had a nephew in Coatesville, where we lived, whom he contacted regularly.)
Somehow the news of America reached Europe; the Golden Land of America, where all people were alike, and all were equal. My grandfather died then and must have left something to his three sons, which they divided. My father, having a little money and knowing he wouldn't need it in the Golden Land, decided to leave with eight of the children, to go where we would shovel money and the children would receive the education they deserved. My eldest brother, Simcha, wanted to stay a while. He and his wife already had two little children named Jenny and Minnie who were only two or three years old, and they all stayed in Russia a little longer. As we got on the train, they waved goodby to us and then ran after the train until it was out of sight.
Father and Mother packed a rattan trunk with a samovar and true feather bedding. Also a few pots and pans, not knowing if we would meet up with anything to cook in.
We packed the samovar because my parents drank only tea. The government would stamp the samovars in Jewish homes because the Jews didn't drink much vodka or any other alcohol. Tea was a drink every Jewish household had, so the government stamped the samovars every year to raise taxes. Tea was the natural drink in the house and wine was for Pesach.
We were a family of nine children. Father and Mother made eleven. At that time we didn't know Mother was pregnant because she was always fat, as most Jewish women were.)
We ran to the boat named Columbia. When we got there, we handed a man our letter which showed we had a sponsor, someone who would meet us at the boat in America and give us lodging until the girls could get some odd jobs. But he hardly noticed it; he just shoved us in. We were shooed into the belly of the boat called the steerage, where we occupied a corner with many other Jewish people. It didn't take long before the men put their talises on and thanked God for getting out of Russia, the land of Jew-haters, where the Jews were not given the chance of further education.
Down in the cellar we developed nausea. The next day everyone was vomiting but me; four years old and I was the only one. So being a nosy kid, I ran around the steerage, looking in every corner, making sure I hit every door. Behind one door I saw dozens of cows chewing away on hay in their stalls, so I learned that animals were needed. I already felt that Jews were like animals--they were needed in America.Then, the next day, I noticed a big chute from the ceiling and I saw oranges and cakes go down. I couldn't figure where they were coming from. But after speaking to some of the people, I learned the food was coming from the rich people upstairs who paid for the trip to America. And from then on, I took the oranges and the cinnamon buns and all the cakes and carried them around with me. Nobody wanted to eat them, so I did. A doctor would come through every day, giving out tablespoons of bicarbonate of soda so the people wouldn't vomit all over each other. But it really didn't matter anyway, girls cleaned it up. Outside help; they weren't steerage. We arrived in America in 1901, docking at Philadelphia-- Washington Avenue. The men who looked at our letter checked everyone over but I had a brother sick with eczema, covered with sores. My mother didn't want the men to see the sores, so she held my brother between her legs and covered him with her skirt. Being a fat woman and pregnant, they didn't recognize anything amiss. So they let us through.
One of the Barenbaums, our sponsors, met us at the wharves and led us to a house at 5th & Queen Street, then up to the third floor where there were only two rooms and a hall. The girls had one small room and mother and dad had the other, while the other kids lived in the hall. Whenever any of us cried he was hungry, father came in with a bag of challah and tore off a piece for us. We would fall asleep chewing the challah.
One day I was running around the house and happened to run. into mother and dad's room. Mother had a baby girl, born dead. She didn't know what to do with it but the people downstairs immediately contacted the Jewish Burial Society. A man came to the house, wrapped the baby in newspaper, and took it away. Everybody was glad another baby wasn't born into the family. It would have been one more mouth to feed.
Soon thereafter, we moved to the cheapest quarters ever built in Philadelphia. It was on Bodine Street, between Bainbridge and South Streets, and we were the only Jews. There were no underground water pipes, only a big water tank to supply us, and everybody had outside latrines behind the kitchen. We only lived there a short while before we moved to another little street, this time to a three story house called "The Father, Son and Holy Ghost." This was a rowhouse for the newcomers to Philadelphia with three floors and one room on each floor. It was already an improvement. One room had a kitchen and dining room and a lounge where we could lay down when we were tired. It also had rats, who were members of the family.I used to run up to the third floor to watch the people decorate the graves of soldiers from the Civil War. They would come in wagons and line the steps with pots of geraniums and American flags. The gates to the cemetery were kept open then, so kids would tear off the flowers and give them to their teacher, Miss Christian.
We had a locked quarter water meter in the house at the time. Very few people had quarters for the meter, so at night kids would break the locks and take what quarters there were. All of us kids would be sitting around the kitchen table, when a window would break downstairs and we knew the meter was being robbed. I wouldn't put the money in the meter, none of us wanted to, because we were too afraid to go down there. We had an oil lamp on the well It was my job to take care of the wick.
A cousin from Duluth, Minnesota wanted to teach Dave, the oldest child, the Jewelry trade. So he sent Dave the money to come to Duluth, where he lived until our father died. Dave then got a job in Philadelphia with Bailey, Banks & Biddle.
Then there was another sister, Miriam, who was housekeeper for a neighbor. Her customary job was to get twigs and make a fire beneath the samovar, then taste the hot tea. Her larynx was severely scalded one day and she died.
The rich German Jews who emigrated to America earlier had made arrangements to teach all the new Jews coming in a trade. On Bridge Avenue, they built textile mills to make fabric and women's clothes. So the women were assigned to a sewing shop owned by a German Jew already here for twenty-five or thirty years, and the girls were to learn the millinery trade. The girls, my sisters included, who worked there were earning a dollar a day, maybe.
My sisters gave all the money to Mother. Every day she would leave early in the morning for the outdoor markets, where the grocers put the food--kasha, barley, even chickens-- on the sidewalk in front of their stores. My mother used to stick her hand up the chicken's ass to see if there was an egg inside. All the Jewish women did it. When she found an egg, she would open it and put her finger in to make sure it was all edible. (That was really stretching the dollar).
When Mother bought a chicken, she would take it to a rabbi to be koshered. She sat in a line awaiting the Leventhal, head of the rabbinate. And believe it or not he would never say the chicken was kosher. It seemed like it was never good enough for him. I think because he was a rabbi he felt he had to show his power in the Jewish community.
We did have an icebox, even though Mother shopped every day. We would buy ten cents worth of ice and put it in the top, and a pipe would lead the water to a basin. Every day we got ice and every day it was my job to empty the basin. We bought our ice from icemen walking through the streets yelling "Ice, ice."
I was the goody-goody of the family--I was born a goody-goody. I had full curly hair just like Scotty, only blond. And until I was five years old, my sisters would take me places to show me off to their friends.
Dad learned to hang wallpaper and he allowed us to go watch him work. He would find all sorts of things and give them to us to play with because he couldn't afford toys.
The girls liked to make cut-outs which they put into a special book with pins. They cut out elaborate designs, like fancy doilies, and pinned them on top of the cut-outs to make beautiful designs.
The girls also made dolls themselves, by sewing a body together and filling it with rags. The head, arms, and legs were made the same way but sewn separately.
Marbles was a popular game with the boys. But one of the best games played was when we got a piece of wood and cut it with a knife until it looked like a pencil, then tacked another piece of wood on its top so it would fly. Whoever flew the furthest got the prize.
The first job Edith's husband, Aaron, had was with a company which gave him a little truck and horse, to which he tied a machine to show to prospects. That's how he learned about machines; and a little later, he and Edith opened a millinery store. Their last name was Minkowsky, which later became Mink.
It was customary that every woman buy a new hat for the Jewish New Year. The little old ladies bought little bonnets with ribbons at Edith's millinery store on 7th Street.
End of Transcript for now!
There is also a story that , one day a woman came into the store and asked for something different. Edith showed the customer some plumes of Birds of Paradise, which were illegal to have. She was set up and fined for her misdeed.
Israel Greenberg, the patriarch of the Greenberg family only lived four years in Philadelphia before his death.
Shaiva Greenberg, the Martriarch of the Greenberg Family lived 33 years in Philadelphia.
