Where we came from…The Austrian Geduldigs

She never spoke to me of her family, but Dickie gathered Gussie’s remembrances, and in 1989, he put the story to paper in a letter to one of my mother’s cousins, Rhoda Gilbert.

The Geduldig and Metzendorf families were born in Ostrava, Austria, sometimes referred to as Galicia, and today a part of the Czech Republic.  

Sali Metzendorf was born in March, 1863.  She attended Gymnasium, what we would consider high school, and as a young woman, worked as a bookkeeper at an inn that belonged to a relative.  Samuel Geduldig, born February, 1858, was a strong man with curly black hair and sparkling dark eyes.  He was uneducated, unambitious, and coarse; in no way her equal.  In the evening, she often sat in her room, looking out the window, and Samuel would stand in the street, whistling a serenade.  The ability to whistle so beautifully apparently appealed to Sali, and they were married after a short courtship.  Years later, Sali would hint to Gussie that the result of this village idyll was not the best marriage. Unskilled, Samuel struggled to support his family, and, after a decade, the decision was made to find a better life, responding to the optimistic correspondence of Samuel’s sister now living far away.  Given the prospect of a lifetime of poverty and oppression, millions of immigrants with few resources left Europe for the Promised Land, America.

Sali Metzendorf Geduldig and Nettie, 1895 

Traveling on the American Line’s SS Chester from Southampton, England, Sam arrived at Ellis Island on 19 July, 1898. Sponsored by his sister, he moved in with her at 105 Allen Street, on the lower east side of Manhattan.

On December 5, 1898, Sali, now 35 years old, arrived at Ellis Island, on the SS Rotterdam, from Holland.  Traveling with her were: Mac, 10, Rosalia, 8, Gisele (Gussie), 6, and Nettie, 4.  She could only take what she could carry, and had to bring enough food to last the journey. When I think of the courage and single-mindedness of my great-grandmother, I am awestruck.

The June, 1900 Census, records the family living in a tenement at 84 Essex Street.  Living with them, was Sali’s sister, Ernestine Metzendorf, 30 years old, who had emigrated in 1899. She is listed as an unemployed servant. Sam worked as a laborer and drayman (driving a horse and wagon). The story goes he was so strong and healthy, that when his horse died, he put on the harness, and pulled the wagon back to the stable. Sali focused on her children’s education.  The girls completed high school, which was very unusual for immigrant children.  Gussie attended the Hebrew Technical Institute, studying commercial subjects, and proudly demonstrated her mastery of Gregg shorthand all her life. This was the only part of the family history that touched on anything Jewish.  It appears that religion, and our ethnic past, had no influence on the family, no one even spoke Yiddish.  Sali and Sam considered themselves Austrian, being Jewish was incidental. Gussie was not as intelligent as her beautiful, blond sister, Nettie, and both were outshined by their brother, Max.  It was truly the fulfillment of the American dream, that the Janitress’ son graduated from College and later became a High School Principal in Paterson, New Jersey.

The April, 1910 Census records the family living on West 28^th street, with Sam working in a paper novelty factory. Gussie was employed as  a bookkeeper, Nettie a clerk in a Dry Goods store, Rose a binder in a publishing house, and Max a school teacher. During that period, Sali spent her days working as a janitress.  This did not conflict with her tendency for gentility, for she was always practical, and the janitor’s apartment was rent-free, and earned a small salary.  Gussie related that Sali was very proud of her home, and had a beautiful, ornate dining room.  However, the family atmosphere was tense, serious, very “Prussian”, and strict.  During those years, Sam developed a drinking problem.

After reading the following letter written by Nettie in 1915, I assume that the “Mama” referred to is Sali. The absence of any mention of “Papa” leads me to believe that Sam died sometime between 1910 and 1914.

Aunt Nettie’s Letter to Grandma Gussie, May 6, 1915

Aunt Nettie’s Letter to Grandma Gussie, Page 2

Transcription of original letter from Nettie to Gussie

The January, 1920 Census does not find Sali living with any of her children, so it appears she died sometime between 1916 and 1919.

All the siblings were married; Rose and Herman Tiger in 1914, Nettie and Jack Levinson in 1914, Max and Bertha in 1912, and Gussie and Rube Freed in 1913.

Rose and Herman (Manager at an automobile dealership), their son George (born 19 April 1916), and Nettie (Department Store Clerk)and Jack (Clerk in a Law Firm) shared an apartment at 1859 Findlay Ave. in the Bronx.  

Max Gilbert

Max and his wife, Bertha, lived at 12 Smith Street in Paterson, New Jersey.  They had two daughters, Rhoda, 6, and Alice, 5. When World War I began, Max changed his name to Gilbert, not wanting to sound too “German”.

Gussie and Rube Freed (machine salesman) lived 753 Webster Ave, in the Bronx, and had two daughters, Thelma, 5, and Leonore, 2.

The April, 1930 Census records that George and Stanley (born 21 Aug 1920) Tiger, were living with Nettie and Jack, at 390 East 184^th Street in the Bronx.

Immediately after Stanley was born, Rose died of “milk”, or “childbed”  fever.  The cause of death was actually Puerperal fever, a streptococcus infection transmitted by poor antiseptic technique at delivery.

Herman had also died during the previous decade, but the circumstances of his death were lost over the years. Nettie (“barren” in the vernacular of the day) and Jack, unable to have children, adopted and raised the two boys.

Gussie and Rube (a printer) were living at 2846 West 36 St. in Coney Island, with their daughters, Thelma, Leonore, and newborn Sally (born 22 Jan 1930), named for Gussie’s mother.  There had been another daughter, Pearl, born on 22 April 1923, who had died of Diphtheria in June, 1927.

Max and his family still resided in New Jersey.

So, the Geduldig name ended, at least in Sam’s line, with Max’ “Americanizing” the name to Gilbert, and having no sons.

By the time I was born, in the 1940’s, contact with Gussie’s nieces and nephews were rare.

I met Stanley Tiger and his wife, Donna, immediately after WWII, when they were guests at our Sea Gate apartment.  Stanley caused quite a stir during that visit, as he used a glassful of bourbon for a mouthwash while brushing his teeth!  Perhaps a genetic tendency had been passed down from his grandfather, Samuel.  I never saw him or his family again.   He lived his adult life in Crowley, Louisiana, working as an insurance agent.  He had two sons, one of whom committed suicide as a teenager.

George was known as the family “trumbanik”, troublemaker.  Grandma Gussie was always helping him out.  She kept some cash in the cut-glass ”Prince Rudolph” cup on her kitchen shelf.  With no questions asked, he knew he could find a few dollars at Aunt Gussie’s to pay his gambling debts and not get beaten up.

After the war, George married a Southern girl, lived in Georgia, and never made contact with the family, as far as I know.

Although she and Nettie were always close, living a few blocks from each other all of their adult lives, contact with Max was rare.

For years, Max operated a girl’s summer camp in New Jersey.  As a teenager, my mother attended the camp for a few weeks, learning Archery and riding horses, and she spoke warmly of her cousins, Rhoda and Alice.  After my mother married in 1934, contact was lost.

Gussie rarely spoke of her family. She chose to immerse herself in the gregarious crowd of Hungarians into which she married.   She died on 07 March 1963, in congestive heart failure, complicated by diabetes.