Thursday, January 7, 2016

The Escape From Russia Story


                                             The Escape From Russia Story
                                                                 1950
                               A true story of what my, grandfather  Ed Lazaroff did.
                                             Written in 2010 Re-written 01/2016
                                                           Howard Yasgar


This story was written to assist anyone researching the Lazaroff family history in New Haven Connecticut.
It tells a unique story of how Edward Abraham Lazaroff, my grandfather and my hero, he rescued my grandmother, my mother and my aunt Adele from Russia. Then went back and brought out many brothers and cousins.
Most all of the information written here, was collected around 1950, when I was eleven years old, and my family was living on Davis Street,in Westville Connecticut.
My mother was Betty Yasgar the eldest of Edward Lazaroff’s three daughters.
His three daughters were Betty, Adele and Lillian.
Betty and Adele were born in Russia, Lillian was born in America.
When I was eleven years old, I wasn’t really that interested in my families history, so I think it’s really amazing that I have been able to record as much information as I have.
My mother and her sister Adele always were very reluctant to discuss their childhoods in Russia, so we can assume it wasn’t a good memory.
So all the information had to be collected in little bits and pieces, over several years.
I Also owe a debt of gratitude to my cousin Allen, Allen, who is Adele’s son is an excellent researcher and he dug up all the information on when Grandpa Ed first arrived in Baltimore Maryland, and then the subsequent entry of the Lazaroff family into the United States.
Allen also researched information regarding the SS Zeeland, the ship they came to America on.
My earliest memories start when I was about ten or eleven years old. I knew my grandfather as Grandpa Eddie, however his youngest daughter Lillian told me his full name was Edward, Abraham, Lazaroff.
When I was about 8 years old and my family lived in Westville, Connecticut, I remember that my Grandpa Eddie, always made it his business to come and visit us, and he was using public transportation to do it.
Every time he came he would bring me little toys, some of the toys had parts missing and some had burn marks, and they all smelled real bad.
Mom always said that Grandpa probably picked them up in someones trash pile, and she made me throw them away after Grandpa left the house.
Later when Grandpa had a car, he would take me and my cousin Allen to Woodmont beach to go swimming.
I remember those beach trips well, because at that time Grandpa drove us all in his 1950 Studebaker, it was a car that looked the same in the front as in the back.    
Now, the Grandpa Eddie that I remember, was a fairly imposing fellow with a strong stature, he was slightly balding with light brown hair. But he had what I would call a solid, strong look about him, and I thought he carried himself well.
I think my grandfather Eddie, walked, talked and carried himself like a person that had a military background, which is exactly what he said he had.
Grandpa Ed told me that as a young man he served for a while in the Russian army as a Polish language translator, and then he said that he had served for a while in the Polish army as a Russian language translator. I had always thought the story sounded a little far fetched.
I learned that when Grandpa was a young man, he lived in a small village called Mastatchka Pavlov which was located somewhere close to the Polish border.
Back then the borders between Russia and Poland were not clearly defined and it was referred to as the frontier.
So it was entirely possible that at various times their small village was controlled by either the Russian or the Polish armed forces, and it could be entirely possible that they had both used Grandpa as a translator.
I remember that it was at about the age of  60 that grandpa Ed’s hair was really starting to turn white, and he was developing a distinct round bald spot.
The reason I remember the bald spot was because I had kept a pet squirrel, and the squirrel had very sharp claws.
One day the squirrel climbed up grandpa’s pants leg all the way up to his bald spot, and  scratched the hell out of his head.
Grandpa was pretty mad for awhile, but once the bleeding stopped he was OK with it.
I remember grandpa Eddie had a slight droop on the left side of his mouth. When I asked him about it, he told me it was from a German soldier’s bayonet, and he said he got the wound when he jumped into the soldiers fox hole during the first world war.
But mom later told me the droop in grandad’s mouth was really the result of a botched operation to remove a goiter.
My moms explanation disappointed me, as grandpa’s war story about the foxhole sounded much better.
Now I also remember visiting  Grandpa’s house that he had bought on West Street in New Haven.
I was told he had lived on Munson Street prior to that but I don’t recall anything about the Munson Street house.
What I do remember that whenever we visited my grandparents, especially on holidays, my Grandmother Molly, would always make some traditional Russian pastries.
I never thought any of the stuff tasted very good.
She made one pastry that was like knotted dough and flavored with ginger and honey and it glistened red.
No one I have ever spoken too knows what the hell it was called, which is just as well, as I don’t want any more of it.
On the other hand, I do remember grandpa’s next door Italian neighbors on West Street who always brought over stuffed artichokes. They were so good that we got the recipe from them and still make them today.  
One day Grandpa Eddie, took me out into the backyard of his West Street house, he wanted to show me an addition he was building all by himself.
He was so very proud of the fact that he was doing it all by himself, he even showed me that he had a hand operated machine in his yard that he used to make one cinder block at a time.
My aunt Lillian later confirmed that the addition that grandad was building was to be her new bedroom in the West Street house.
On occasion I stayed overnight with my grandparents at the West Street house.But I don’t ever remember ever getting a good night’s sleep.
Grandpa Eddie and grandmother Molly both slept in one big bed with me in the middle,       and my Grandpa snored so loud I could never fall a sleep.
What I heard about my grandfather from all his daughters was that he was a strict authoritarian, grandpa just told you how things were to be done and you did it.
Because of this, he had raised his three daughters in a very strict manner, and I could always sense that there was tension, between my Grandad and his daughters. It was as if his daughters resented his strictness.
Sometimes, when I listened to the way they talked and treated him, it made me feel bad for him. It was like now that the daughters were all grown up, they were punishing their father for bringing them up to be good people.
Over the years, from the stories I heard from family members, Eddie was the strong one in the Lazaroff family, and he was responsible for bringing most of the Lazaroff family to the United States.
I am sure the family would all probably all deny it, but there was no question that Grandpa Eddie was a strong personality but he was capable of getting any job done.
I think the entire Lazaroff family resented him because of his having that inner strength they didn’t have.
That having been said, here is the story that I learned about my Grandfather Eddie Lazaroff.
He was born in Russia around 1887, in the small village of  Mestatchka Pablov and he told me that he served for a period of time in both the Russian and Polish armies as a translator, which was improbable but possible.
He lived in area of Russia that is now called Belaruse, or White Russia, in those days the Russian or Polish border (The Frontier) was never clearly defined, so at various times, their village may have been under control by Russia and at other times under control by Poland.
Grandpa did speak both Russian and Polish, as well as excellent English.
My mother said that one of the reasons, the Lazaroff family made the decision to leave Russia, was because of the constant attacks by the Cossacks.
Over the years, I often wondered why my mother or her sister Adele  never seemed to want to talk about their childhood in Russia. It could have been because there was only a few good memories to tell, or it could just be because they were only eight and nine years old when they left Russia they remembered very little that was worth talking about.
My mother said that in their village of Mastachka Pablov they lived in a one room house, where the rooms were divided by sheets hanging from the ceiling.
Mom said she wasn’t really sure where Mastachka Pablov was, since at the time there were no maps. So she could never show me where their village was located.
However we have determined its general location by putting several clues together.
Mom said that the closest big Russian city was Minsk, and her father, had taken her there twice.
So she knew their village was somewhere in between Minsk and the Polish frontier.
Once Russia opened up due to Glasnost in the late 1980’s,  maps were printed, and we found that the city of Pavlov fit her description pretty good and by  adding the diminutive “ka” onto the village name “Mastachka” I assume they probably lived in a small village next to the city of Pablov.
Grandpa Eddie told me that his marriage to Molly Aranoff, (Her Russian name was Malka) was pre arranged by his and her parents.
Grandpa said that on the day they were to meet, he was scared to death to meet Malka as he was thinking she might be ugly, but he said, that he was very surprised to see how pretty she was.
Grandpa Eddie said he had a bad hernia at the time of the wedding and he said one testicle was hanging very low, and consequently his voice had changed dramatically. Because of this. he said to me that over the years he often wondered what his new bride Malka thought about that, but he never had the nerve to ask her.
Years later, my mother remembered seeing her father working as a blacksmith, and she said  he made her a tricycle out of scrap metal.
Mom said  she had the only tricycle in her entire village.
Regarding their everyday life in Russia, my mother said they lived very frugally. They were all in a one room house with the areas divided by curtains.
She said They only had meat on rare occasions, and whenever they had it, the piece of meat was always shredded and shared equally among the entire family.
My mother’s Russian name was “Bluma,” which meant flower, and her younger sister  Adele, was named Chaja, and together after school, their job was watching an apple orchard.
Mom remembers that one day she forgot to bring a lunch for her younger sister Chaja, so Chaja suggested that she would eat the sandwich that day, and my mother could eat tomorrow.
Mom said that her sister Chaja always came up with lots of funny jokes like that.
As a teenager Chaja because of her joking around acquired the nickname “Adele Gebacht”, which in Yiddish meant half baked Adele.
The other thing my mother vividly remembered, was the Cossacks.
Back in 1917, Russia was still a feudal society, and it was a dangerous place to live.
Each city had their own army called the Cossacks, and the Cossacks would ride in on horseback and raid the smaller villages in the countryside.
They would steal livestock and sometimes rape and kill the people.
So in their village everyone was always terrified by threat of being attacked by the Cossacks.
The other problem was that at the time, the border with Poland and Russia was ever changing, and never clearly defined thus many small villages really didn’t know from day to day if they were located in Russia or Poland.
Thus when the countries of  Russia and Poland were at war, each of the small villages in the countryside suffered, and the people who lived in these border areas were always caught in the middle.
Mom said that many people were indiscriminately killed by both the Russian  or Polish army, and that was the reason so many people wanted to leave their villages for safer places, but most people had nowhere to go.
My mother said that as long as she remembered there was always a rumor circulating in her village that in America, the streets were paved with gold, all you had to do was pick it up.
Her village had a meeting, and they decided to send someone to America, and that young man, was my Grandpa Eddie.
At the time he was thirty years old, married, and had two daughters.
Little is known why he was picked, but it may have been because Eddie was a strong decisive person, had military training and multilingual.
We suspect there were other cousins from Russia that must have preceded Eddie to America but their actual relationship to my grandfather is unknown.
We do know from my aunt Lillian, that Grandpa’s sponsor in New Haven was an uncle living on 54 Vernon Street, and that he was a blacksmith by trade.
We also know that grandpa was learning to be a blacksmith in Russia so that could have been the connection.
The Vernon Street address became grandpa Eddie’s first permanent address in America, and he used it on all  his future immigration paperwork.
Cousin Alan, did a bit of internet research and came up with the following information, some of which has also been verified by my aunt Lillian, who was Grandpa Eddie’s youngest daughter.
On Grandpa Eddie’s first trip to America, he arrived at the port in Baltimore, Maryland. That was his first point of entry on Feb 8, 1918, and once he was in America, it appears he immediately joined the U.S. Army.
Aunt Lillian, has a photo of grandpa Eddie in his U.S. military uniform.
It was taken at sometime in Baltimore. I saw Lillian’s picture, and my Grandfather was a pretty handsome looking guy in his WW 1 military uniform.
Grandpa Eddie told me that he obtained the rank of sergeant, and I think that while he was in the army he had also obtained his U.S. Citizenship.
It appears that there had always been a plan in place for Eddie to somehow return to Russia, and smuggle his family out, and then to assist other family members to immigrate to America.
I was never able to determine who financed all of this. Or who financed any of Grandpa Ed’s  repeated trips back and forth to Europe.
Grandpa told me, that he was told that American  army officers, were treated like royalty in Europe. So knowing that, he illegally dressed up as a commissioned officer, complete with fancy leggings, and a swagger stick. At the time a swagger stick was only carried by commissioned officers.
So now, dressed up as a commissioned officer, he arrived in Germany and then made his way through Poland to the Russian frontier.
Grandad said that at every town along the way, the word was sent that an American officer was coming, and all the small town bands were waiting for him, they were all playing American and British military music when they greeted him.
Grandpa said, that just as he expected, upon his arriving at the small town in Poland, he was treated like royalty.
However, once he arrived near the Russian and Polish frontier, things changed, he was told he could go no further.
As an American officer, if he were captured in Russian territory, he would immediately be imprisoned and executed as a spy.
So, in that Polish town,which was probably a place called  Klechesk, Grandpa Eddie changed ot of his military clothing and was able to find a smuggler who promised to bring his wife Molly and his two daughters out of Russia.
According to Grandpa, he gave the smuggler a substantial sum of money to do the job for him, and then he checked into a local hotel to wait.
When over two weeks went by with nothing happening, grandpa Eddie realized he had been taken.
He felt that the smuggler had stolen his money.
So he went to all the bars in town looking for the guy, and he finally found him.
The smuggler said he no longer had any of Grandpa’s  money as he had already given it to someone else to do the job.
Grandad Ed said “I grabbed him by the batsim and didn’t let go until he told me where the money was”. (Grandpa Eddie put his hand down, and it had a claw like grip, and with a snarl, he showed me how he grabbed the guy by the balls).
Then Grandad Eddie said he went into the fellows house and found the money under a loose board in the bedroom.
Now Grandpa had to change his plan, and everything became extremely dangerous.
He used his money to buy farmers clothing, then he bought a team of horses, and a wagon filled with bags of potatoes.
Under cover of darkness, he drove the wagon into Russia and all the way to his village.
The trip must have taken him several days, but once he arrived at his village, he waited in the woods until nightfall.
Then he located his wife and his two daughters and loaded them into empty  potato sacks on the wagon.
Again under the cover of darkness, they headed back to Poland.
My mother said that they traveled only at night, hiding during the day in the woods.
She said they only had the potatoes to eat.
Once they were safely in Poland, they made their way to Antwerp Belgium, where they boarded a ship, named the SS Zeeland and made the crossing to America.
My mother said that grandpa Eddie had taught her and her sister Adele how to sing several popular American war songs, all in English.
So Grandpa made the girls sing to anyone aboard the ship, that would listen.
He was so very proud of his daughters being able to sing in English, but my mother said she and Adele just cried all day and night because of it.                                                                                                                       
Cousin Alen’s internet research came up with some interesting information regarding the ship “SS Zeeland”. It appears the ship SS Zeeland (It’s name had been changed several times), was originally built in the Clydebank shipyard in Glasgow Scotland, and Alan’s grandfather on his father’s side, was employed at that very shipyard in Scotland, and had probably been one of the people that actually helped build the ship.
On Aug 1, 1921, Abraham Lazaroff, age 33, Malka Lazaroff, age 33,  Bluma Lazaroff, age 9, and Chaja Lazarof, age 7, all arrived at Ellis Island in New York.
They listed their European home as Kleck Poland.
They used the 54  Vernon Street address in New Haven as their destination.
Grandpa told me that he soon obtained a plumbers license and went to work as an apprentice plumber.
After that, it appears that he traveled back to Russia several times to bring out his ungrateful brothers and cousins, with all of them settling in he New Haven area.
Where the money came from to make all the trips to Russia, has never been explained to me, but it appears grandpa did eventually start the Orange Street Bus line in New Haven, and it’s possible that it was the source of his income.
What my Grandfather Eddie did was nothing less than extraordinary, he gambled his life to rescue all his immediate Lazaroff family members.
   As I grew up in New Haven, I don’t recall hearing one word of appreciation from any of the family members towards my grandfather Eddie, as a matter of fact I think they all resented his authoritative attitude.
After my meeting most of the Lazaroff relatives, I wondered if any of his brothers or any of his cousins would have had the nerve to risk their lives for him, I don’t think so.
In my book Grandpa Eddie was a hero.
Eventually granddad Eddie went to work for Metropolitan Life Insurance Company as an insurance agent, he said he carried a book, which meant that every week he went around town knocking on doors to collect twenty five cents to apply against their life insurance policy.
Grandpa Eddie’s accomplishments were many, which included the starting of the Orange Street Bus Line in New Haven.
In his later years around 1953 he pioneered moving to Florida which he called “The Land Of Milk And Honey”.
When grandpa Eddie went to Florida, it was not yet the popular place it is today.
At the time it was just considered a swampland and a home for mosquitoes.
I remember hearing his brothers and other family members talking negatively about him
They said, “He’ll be back”.
Wondering what happened to Grandma Molly.s family the Aranoffs, in 1953, my mother and father and I, took a trip to Canada and drove to St Johns in Nova Scotia, where the Aranoffs had immigrated.
We met Saul and Ben Aranoff his Son, as well as his sons family. Saul was grandma Molly’s brother.
We found the Aranoff’s happy to meet us, they were in the antique and used furniture business in St Johns.
A picture I took in front of their store said  Aranoff, used furniture.
The following year Ben Aranoff and his family came to visit us in Westville Connecticut. We have since lost contact with them.
I tried locating the Aranoff’s in St Johns Nova Scotia, but no luck.

  

The Cousin Allen & the Townsend’s Story

                                                      The  Cousin Allen & Townsends Story    
                                                                                 1958
                                                          Written 2010 and Re-written 2016
                                                                         Howard Yasgar

     1957 was my graduation year from Hill House high school in New Haven Connecticut.
     It now was time to think about college.
    My Cousin Allen, who was a year younger than I was, had graduated from Wilber Cross High School which was also in New Haven, he graduated the year after me in 1958
    Allen and I both worked part time at a Gulf gas station, located on the corner of Whalley Avenue and Harrison Street in Westville.
     We both liked working on cars.
     The late 1950’s were later called the “Fonzi” years because Fonzi dressed  a lot of us dressed like the TV character
Fonzi later did. That meant wearing a black leather jacket, Levi pants, motorcycle boots and black slicked back hair, and that was the way I dressed.
     My cousin Allen was a more casual dresser. That meant a somewhat clean tee shirt and not too dirty slacks.   
      It was when my cousin Allen graduated high school, in 1958 that he told me that he had a serious girlfriend, and was considering getting married.
     Allen was the only son of my mother’s sister Adele. Allen was less than fortunate, as his father Jim was an alcoholic. Allen’s mom was a dedicated and hardworking nurse and she kept their family together, even with Allen’s father being drunk most of the time.
      I knew that Allen had intentions of going to the University of Connecticut, but I had no Idea that he had a girlfriend, or was even thinking of getting married.
    I asked him where he ever met a girlfriend and Allen said that he had met a young lady at his Church and started dating her. I was kind of shocked as my main interest was working on hot rods, not girls, but because we had both grown up in different parts of New Haven, and we had gone to different high schools we had both developed different groups of friends. I didn’t even know that Allen ever went to church.
    When Allen said he had a girlfriend and was considering marriage, I was real curious as to who this girl was. I was afraid he might have met a girl that would take him down the wrong path, perhaps talking him into a marriage to take her out of a bad family situation. I knew that happened often, and usually ended in disaster. So, when Allen asked if I would come with him to visit his girlfriend, I was delighted and I was also very curious.
    We got in my father’s car and Allen directed me where to drive. We drove to one of the fancier Avenues in New Haven called Townsend Avenue.
    I couldn’t imagine who Allen knew that lived near Townsend Avenue. The Avenue had once been part of the large Townsend estate. The Townsend estate consisted of property belonging to the Townshend family who were some of the original founders of the original Colony of New Haven.
     Over the years, most of the estate property had been sold off with the exception of the Kneeland Townsend House, which was a Greek revival mansion that has been in the Townsend family for seven generations.
      Allen directed me to turn into the driveway that not only led to the mansion but also farther into the large estate which also had a large house once belonging to the stable keeper.   
      I just knew Allen had to be pulling my leg, making me drive in there, and I knew he was going to tell met to turn around any second, but he didn’t.
     We parked in front of the big mansion which is now on the historical registry, and we were greeted by Henry Townsend.
      While I certainly was not familiar with the Townsends, I did know who Henry Townsend was, as he had recently run for mayor in New Haven.
    Here I was with my motorcycle jacket, engineer boots and slicked back hair being led into the historical Townsend mansion by Henry Townsend himself. My cousin Allen was acting like it was the most normal thing in the world, he simply asked Henry Townsend if Sharon was at home.
   While we waited in the living room for Sharon to make her appearance, I observed Henry Townsend’s reactions, and I wondered what he must have been thinking. As I looked, I thought Henry Townsend would swallow his Adam’s apple. I didn’t think the Townsend mansion ever had anyone that looked like me in it before, as every Townsend for generations had been a Yale University graduate.
    Yes, I certainly felt ill at ease, but my cousin Allen was as nonchalant as ever, he had a broad smile on his face like everything was just like normal.
    Soon, Allen’s girlfriend Sharon Townsend descended the staircase. When she reached the bottom of the staircase Allen hugged and kissed her. I could see that Sharon was just as pretty as can be, my cousin Allen had done well.     
   Sharon walked us outside and gave us a tour of the estate. When we reached the stable and groundskeepers house, Sharon introduced us to another girl who Sharon said was a Ministers daughter, her father, the minister, was renting the groundskeepers house.
     I always felt ill at ease at the mansion, and I was sure the Townsends were just as ill at ease having me in their home, but they always acted graceful about it. Allen has told me that Mr. Townsend was concerned that his daughter was marrying a gas station attendant and he hoped that Allen’s aspirations would be higher.
    The wedding date was set in 1962, and the wedding was to be held in one of the three Greek Revival Protestant churches located on the New Haven Green. The Churches were almost as old as the New Haven Colony itself and I certainly never dreamed I would actually be inside one of them, But, I was appointed an usher at the wedding, and here I was the son of Russian immigrants showing people to their seats in a Protestant church that was used by the families of the original New Haven founders.
      The Townsends spared no expense on their daughter’s wedding. I marveled at how my humble cousin Allen handled the opulence so well.
       Allen told me that he had been concerned that his father might come and disrupt the wedding, but his dad Jim Nelson passed away of a heart attack a few weeks before the wedding.
      Cousin Allen and Sharon then left to attend the University of Connecticut together, and during one of their vacations, Allen and Sharon came to Florida to visit me, as I had moved there in 1963.  
      Allen had always had an interest in electronics and had already graduated from electronics school prior to college, so now Allen while attending college with Sharon, became a ham radio operator, spending most of his time on the short wave radio, a pursuit that probably didn’t sit well with Sharon and their marriage was short lived.
      Henry Townsend who had wanted Allen to aspire to something higher in education, helped Allen to continue his schooling and he did receive his doctorate.  Allen graduated and even went on to teach at the University of New Haven, the very college I had attended.
      Allen always kept in contact with Mr. and Mrs. Townsend, even after he moved to Colorado and remarried.      
      As time passed, Allen went on to build a Solar home in Nederland Colorado, then Allen and his wife Diana took up practicing sailing on the lakes in Colorado. Once they became proficient, Allen and his wife Diana purchased a fifty foot Gulf Star sailboat and sailed the Caribbean every year, always stopping to see my wife and I when they were in Miami.
      In 2008, Allen and Diana eventually moored their sailboat in Fort Lauderdale, and they came down every year to do maintenance and then visit with us, usually staying over with us at our home in the Florida Keys.
       In 2011, Allen came down to do maintenance on the boat and visit with us. I asked him what
Ever had happened to his ex-wife Sharon Townsend.
      Allen said, he hadn't kept up with her, but had heard she had remarried a few times, and was living in Portland Maine doing Ceramics.
      We looked up Sharon on the Internet, and found that she had changed her name back to Townshend, and she was a ceramic artist living in Portland Maine, her work included doing large ceramic mosaics for schools and public buildings, and her smaller work was only sold in galleries.
       So in February 2001, I sent an E Mail to Sharon, and asked her if she remembered me? I also asked her if she ever needed a good used wedding usher, I was available.
      I told her that Allen was now a retired College Professor, living in the mountains of Colorado.
      Sharon replied that she remembered me, and even had several photographs taken at the wedding.
      Sharon said that she now had a father and mother in law living in Vero Beach Florida and came down every year to Florida to see them.
     So in August of 2011, Katherine and I took a trip to Maine. We went with our dear friends Sandy Shwink and Tommy Letis from Foxon Connecticut.
      In South Portland Maine, we went to Sharon’s studio, and met with her, I recognized her right away. Sharon taught ceramics at the University of Maine and also had a school for other ceramic artists. Sharon said her husband was off mountain climbing in Switzerland.