In my previous post, I discussed some history related to my great grandmother, Anna Halper. Today I turn to my great grandfather, Johan Wagner, who passed twice through Ellis Island, first in 1905, then again in 1912. The second time, he stayed, settled in Chicago, met Anna Halper, got married, and had four children. The oldest, John Paul Wagner, was my mother’s father and my grandfather.
Johan "John" Wagner was born in 1885 in Jobaggyi (aka. Alsoor), Vas, Hungary – now known as Unterwart, Burgenland, Austria. As I explained in my previous post, the borders of Hungary changed after WWI, so Johan’s “birthplace” changed to Austria. A bit confusing, right? What makes it even more confusing is that both German and Hungarian names are used for these towns, and different names are used in different records. His parents were Johann Wagner and Josefa Bessenhofer. Only one other sibling of his, as far as I can tell, immigrated to America – his sister Wilma, who was 18 years younger and didn’t arrive until 1922. He did not learn she was here until many years later because he did not keep in contact with his family back in Austria.
I was surprised to see in the 1912 Ellis Island record that Johan said he had been to the U.S. before – it's not part of the family history my mother had ever heard, so it’s not something she ever told me. She really knew very little about her grandfather, and she remembers him as a rather distant, somewhat harsh and cold man. Her grandmother Anna, on the other hand, she remembers very fondly, saying how kind and generous she always was.
I have vague memories of my great grandmother Anna Halper. Towards the end of her life, I remember visiting her house on Justine St. in Chicago, where she lived with her daughter Minnie (Hermina), Minnie’s husband Jim Dougherty, and their daughter Tracey. I remember the dank smell, the humidity, the crowdedness, the doilies, the cats, and that she would always give me something when we left. Since she died when I was five, I don’t have a lot of memories – but since we lived in Illinois for about a year when I was 3-4, I must have seen her on several occasions.
My great grandfather, on the other hand, died in 1965 before I was born. In almost all the pictures I have seen of him, he is sitting in a chair, smoking a pipe. That’s about all I knew about him until I started doing some ancestry research – and until my cousin Tracey (mentioned above) passed away unexpectedly, and my mom and dad and I were left to go through her house and help settle her affairs. At that time, I inherited the “box” of old family letters and documents Tracey had acquired when her mother Minnie passed away a year and a half before her.
Tracey is actually my mom’s first cousin, but she was my same age, and we were “pen pals” for many years growing up. I was always happy to see her when we would visit Illinois, but then we lost touch after she moved to Las Vegas. In fact, I didn't see her for 28 years. Fortunately, we reconnected in 2017 before she died and enjoyed two fun trips together – one to New Orleans and one where she visited us in San Jose. At that time, we went to Big Basin Redwoods State Park because she wanted to see a redwood tree. She also brought some of the old family history documents with her at that time so I could help her go through them since we were both interested in ancestry research.
From my research (mostly census records) and items in the box, I learned my great grandfather worked for Pullman Railroad for more than 35 years – I now have his Pullman pin – as a railroad car cleaner. I learned he came here first in 1905, at which time his Ellis Island record says his last residence was in Schonferchen, Bayern (Bavaria), with his final destination being Pleasant Plains, Staten Island, New York, to join a relative I have not been able to identify. I have no idea if that’s where he stayed during his sojourn, but he eventually returned to Europe. His passport – which I also now have – shows that he traveled quite a bit between 1904-1912, leaving home when he was 18 or 19 and spending time in various parts of Austria and Germany.
A letter that my cousin Tracey had in her possession revealed some family history that might explain his early departure. It appears that his father was quite harsh with him. The letter sounds like the first contact he had with his mother and sister Hermina back in Austria since he immigrated to America – and the letter was written in 1952, forty years after his arrival! Apparently, he and his sister Wilma, who settled in St. Louis, Missouri, had finally somehow reconnected, and Wilma shared his address with her mother and sister back home.
John's sister Hermina writes in the letter: “My dear mother and I talked about you often. Papa died a long time ago, but … he squandered everything. We don’t even have a little house, but rather worries. Papa treated us the same he treated you and didn’t care. Mama always cried a lot when she talked about you, dear brother, how mean he treated you, and Mama was not allowed to say anything.... We now have only the bare necessities, but our holy peace. Mama has gone through a lot. Her last money was destroyed after 32 years in the Pinkafelder Sparkasse (a bank in Pinkafeld, Burgenland, Austria). After that he (Papa) went crazy. A whole year I suffered terribly. His death was a relief for us.”
When I read the letter to my mother, it helped her to see her grandfather somewhat more sympathetically. There's so much we often don't know about the scars and burdens a person carries. When I showed her his Pullman pin and certificate recognizing his 35 years of service, she was surprised and rather impressed. The “box” also contained several of his pipes - items she definitely recalled. Clearly, he had secret hurts – early traumas he bore and perhaps, regrettably, sometimes took out on others. He faced challenges and hardships I can only imagine. He was a German-speaking immigrant living in America during both WWI and WWII, which must have brought its own share of prejudices and difficulties. He watched his oldest son, my grandfather, be drafted to fight in Italy during WWII, and he saw two of his children die before him.
Furthermore, whereas his wife Anna had lots of family members around for support and companionship, he did not have that same benefit. I wonder if he ever missed his family or regretted the lost contact. I wonder if he was haunted by bitterness and resentment toward his father. I wonder if he responded to that letter from his mother and sister in 1952. If so, I would love to see what he wrote. I hope he sent them a picture of his family.
The guest book from his funeral, which was also in the box, shows that his sister Wilma and her husband, Ernest Obernay, came up from St. Louis for the funeral. My mom didn’t remember ever hearing about this great aunt. Her father must have met Wilma at his father’s funeral, if not before, but by then my mom was married and living in California. I know my grandpa's sister Minnie corresponded with both Wilma and her daughters because I have some of those letters.
Whatever the case, John and Anna carved out a life for themselves and their four children – John Jr., Anna, Hermina (Minnie), and Joseph - in Chicago, eventually purchasing a house in 1954 on S. Justine Street, where they lived out their final years. They and their family members were part of the Eastern European immigration surge at the beginning of the 20th century that flooded Ellis Island; part of the westward movement that caused midwestern cities like Chicago to explode in their populations; part of the hordes of immigrant workers forced to work long, harsh hours for low pay; and part of the mass of "other language" speakers who had to struggle to speak English and adjust to the American way of life.
But as I quoted in my previous post, Aunt Minnie said of her mother, "Whenever I asked her if she wanted to return, she always said she didn’t care to visit Austria. She was so proud to become a citizen, and we always had to have a replica of the Statue of Liberty at our house." I can only assume the same was true of her father. They both eventually became U.S. citizens - and neither ever returned to see family members left behind in Austria-Hungary. They both lived full lives, and they both are buried at St. Mary Cemetery in Chicago.
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