08/17/2026
Here are a few highlights from my day at the Peter and Mary Kalikow Jewish Genealogy Research Center at the Museum of Jewish Heritage.
Mark first visited the center in March to research his great-grandparents, Rubin and Dora Kimmel, in preparation for a trip to Lithuania this summer. During his initial visit, we learned that his great-grandfather, Rubin Kimmel, was born Rubin Kimels in Vilnius, Lithuania, in 1874, the son of Hertz and Pesia Kimels.
This time, we dug deeper into the family’s history and uncovered an unexpected chapter. Records revealed that Hertz Kimels had been married before he wed Pesia. In the 1858 Revision List, Hertz appears with his first wife, Henia, and their children, Moshe and Pesia Gittel. We located Henia’s death record and learned that she died in Vilnius on October 3, 1872. After her passing, Hertz married Pesia, with whom he had three sons: Rubin, Yona, and Leizer.
Additional records showed that Hertz died in Vilnius on January 10, 1893. His widow, Pesia, later immigrated to the United States, arriving at Ellis Island on November 11, 1903.
Mark then turned his attention to his great-grandmother, Dora. Family lore held that her maiden name was Levin. We knew from records in Vilnius that Dora’s father’s name was Chatzkel, a Yiddish form of Ezekiel, but before pursuing that lead, I wanted to verify her surname. We located the birth certificates of Rubin and Dora’s three oldest children, all born in New York City. To Mark’s surprise, those records identified Dora’s maiden name not as Levin, but as Schmuckler—opening an entirely new avenue for future research.
Adina, the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors, came to the center hoping to learn more about her grandfather, Alter Kalmanowicz. We located Alter’s displaced persons card from the postwar period, which revealed that he was born on October 14, 1903, in Suwałki, Poland, the son of Isaac Kalmanowicz and Henia Szejchatowicz.
While researching the family, I found the headstone of Alter’s brother, Isaac Joseph, who had changed his surname to Kolmen. The Hebrew inscription identified him as “Yitzchak Yosef, son of Yitzchak.” That immediately caught my attention. Among Ashkenazi Jews, children are traditionally named after deceased relatives, making it unusual for a son to bear the same name as a living father. I suspected that their father may have died before Isaac was born and that he had been named in his memory.
Further research on JewishGen confirmed the theory. We found birth records for Alter, Isaac, and an older sister named Esther—someone Adina had never heard of before. The records revealed that Alter and Isaac were twins and that their father had died in Königsberg, Prussia (today Kaliningrad, Russia), in March 1903, eight months before their birth.
We also discovered that Esther married Jacob Routensztejn in Suwałki on July 8, 1927, and that they had a daughter named Judith. Tragically, Esther, Jacob, and Judith were all murdered during the Holocaust.
One particularly moving moment came when we found a photograph of Esther and Jacob that had been uploaded to Ancestry.com by one of Jacob’s relatives. For the first time, Adina learned of her great-aunt Esther’s existence—and saw her face.
During Ruth’s previous visit, we focused on her maternal grandmother’s family. This time, she wanted to learn more about her maternal grandfather’s side and, in particular, locate her grandfather’s brother. The challenge? His original surname was Zeckczer, but after immigrating to the United States he changed his name to Sam Cohen. Finding a Sam Cohen in Brooklyn felt like searching for a needle in a haystack, and we joked about the odds of success.
Fortunately, Ruth knew a few key details: Sam’s second wife was named Sylvia, and he had a daughter she believed was named Sherry. Using those clues, we located the family in the 1940 and 1950 U.S. censuses. There was Sam, living in Brooklyn with Sylvia and his children from his first marriage, Irwin and Cherie—not Sherry, as family memory had preserved.
We then discovered that Sam had married Katie Cohen in New York City on August 18, 1924. Their marriage certificate identified Sam’s parents—Ruth’s great-grandparents—as Markus Zeckczer and Cirl Oxenhorn. Katie died in 1937, and Sam remarried Sylvia the following year. Katie’s burial records provided another breakthrough. She was buried with the First Independent Kamionka Strumilowa Young Men’s Benevolent Association, a landsmanshaft for immigrants from present-day Kamyanka-Buzka, Ukraine. This clue led us to the family’s town of origin.
From there, we found Markus and Cirl’s marriage record, which identified Ruth’s great-great-grandparents as Abraham Ber and Basche Riwe Zeckczer and Feiwel and Scheindel Ochsenhorn. We also located birth records for Ruth’s grandfather and his siblings, revealing that Markus (Mordechai) Zeckczer and Cirl Ochsenhorn had ten children:
Abraham Salomon
Simon Mendel (later Sam Cohen)
Feiwel
Basie Riwe
Scheindel
Juda Ber
Isak Hersch
Chaya Mindel
Chatzkel
Naftali Herz
Sandra’s father was born in London and immigrated to the United States as a young adult, leaving behind his entire family. Sandra never had the opportunity to know her grandparents, aunts, or uncles in the United Kingdom and hoped we could help her learn more about them.
We found the Lerner family in the 1911 England census. Sandra’s father was living with his mother, Rebecca, and his siblings Solomon, Esther, and Sarah. Rebecca was already widowed by that time and supported her family by operating a fruit stand.
When we located the family again in the 1921 England census, Rebecca was still earning her living as a fruit seller. The census also provided a valuable clue about her origins, recording her birthplace as “Colyus, Comenez Poldosk, Russia.” Further investigation identified this location as present-day Kalyus, Ukraine.
We also learned that Rebecca passed away in July 1944, just a few months after Sandra was born. Although Sandra never met her grandmother, census records and historical documents helped bring Rebecca’s life story into focus, offering a meaningful connection to a family she never had the chance to know.