I can't imagine....

Imagine you hear a news report....some obscure group of people, thousands of miles away in Russia, are being sent to Siberia.

Accused of being "spies", they are "Germans" who live along the Volga River.  The world is facing war...with Germans.

You probably shrug.  Who cares?  Right?

But what if you used to live there.  You know these people.  Your own parents, whom you have not heard from for almost 10 years..are in this group.  Your brothers, your sisters, aunts, uncles....all farmers...just trying to live their lives.

That was the situation of my grandparents.  I can't even imagine the pain they must have felt when they heard this announcement?

Spies?  Hardly.

Here's what the official announcement stated:

"According to reliable facts, which were obtained by the military authorities, among the German population residing in the districts in the Volga Region, there are thousands and tens of thousands of diversionists [saboteurs] and spies, who, at a signal given from Germany, must commit sabotage in the districts which are populated by the Germans in the Volga Region.

Concerning the presence of such a great number of saboteurs and spies among the Germans in the Volga Region, none of the Germans residing in the Volga Region informed the Soviet leadership that the German population of the districts in the Volga Region is hiding in its vicinity the enemy of the Soviet people and Soviet regime.

In order that acts of sabotage and bloodshed do not take place, which were planned according to Germany’s order given to the German diversionists [saboteurs] and spies in the Volga German republic and adjoining districts, the Soviet government, according to martial law, will adopt punitive measures against the entire German population in the Volga Region.

In order to avoid such undesirable occurrences and for the prevention of serious bloodshed, the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR deems it necessary to resettle the entire German population residing in the districts in the Volga Region and other districts, and that the resettlers be allotted land and receive state assistance in the new districts.

For this purpose, the abundance of arable land in the districts of Novosibirsk, the Omsk Region, the Altai Region, Kazakhstan, and other neighboring regions is to be distributed to the resettlers.

In connection with this, the State Committee of Defense is instructed to execute urgently the removal of all Germans in the Volga Region and to allot land in the new regions to the resettled Germans of the Volga Region."

Here's a Western report giving you a better idea what the deportation meant.

Of course, what is not stated, is that these "Colonists" were thrown into the Soviet GULAG. Many will never be heard from again. Two of my grandfather's brothers will perish in these labour camps. But of course, because of the Iron curtain, our family will not know this. There was only silence. Imposed silence. We will finally discover what happened to our family in 1984.

Memories that pop up out of the blue...

The mind is amazing thing....for no good reason a memory can force its way out...and you are left wondering, "Where did that come from?"

Out of the blue today I was thinking of my Dad's laugh.

I could hear it in my mind....then the memory came.

My Mom was at the hospital as she had just delivered my sister, Debbie.  I slept in my parents bed....so I must have been 7 years old.  It was morning and my Dad and I were talking....and I fell out of bed onto the floor.  My Dad laughed his usual laugh.

I remember it so well I can hear it in my mind!

It's a laugh I really miss.

A Reading.....

Cleaning out old books, downsizing. Lots to ponder.  Every book has a story....why I read it...when I got it...what I learned from it...all my books had a purpose.

I was going across an old English Bible I had...in a section of the Bible was a bookmark...I had written down the reading I had done at my Dad's funeral in 1992.

You have no idea how difficult it was to read anything at my Dad's funeral.

But here it is..a reading from the Book of Wisdom, Chapter 4 verses 7-15. Although from the apocryphal books of the Bible, it gave our family comfort during a painful time:

But the righteous man, though he die early, will be at rest.

For old age is not honored for length of time,

nor measured by number of years;

but understanding is gray hair for men,

and a blameless life is ripe old age.

There was one who pleased God and was loved by him,

and while living among sinners he was taken up.

He was caught up lest evil change his understanding

or guile deceive his soul.

For the fascination of wickedness obscures what is good,

and roving desire perverts the innocent mind.

Being perfected in a short time, he fulfilled long years;

for his soul was pleasing to the Lord,

therefore he took him quickly from the midst of wickedness.

Yet the peoples saw and did not understand,

nor take such a thing to heart,

that God’s grace and mercy are with his elect,

and he watches over his holy ones.

Wisdom: 4:7-15 Revised Standard Version 

 

9 Years old....

I was nine years old when men walked on the moon.

50 years ago this past week, I sat with my parents on our front steps, looking up to the Moon...saying that it was hard to believe but there were men there right now.

I was an amazing time to be alive....to watch the moon walk on TV.  From the amazing lift-off, to the splashdown, everyone was fascinated by what was happening.

When Apollo 13 was developing, I joined with millions of other people praying for their safe return.

We watched with fascination, as the "grainy" video, gave way to clearer and clearer shots as technology advanced before our very eyes.

50th Anniversary events are underway...with a lot of cool documentaries, web sites in real time, and photos being published.

Just an amazing time.

Memories of Food gone by....

One of my favourite memories is of the Saturday lunches I would have with my grandmother.  After cutting her lawn, she would have made lunch...my Dad would arrive and we would all eat lunch together.

One of her specialties was Baking Powder Noodles.  A dish she learned to cook in Russia, Granny would serve them with a dish of peaches.

We loved them so much that my Mom learned the recipe from watching Granny (nothing written down).

Mom would make them for me, every now and then, for a special treat since she knew I loved them.

Thanks to Nadia Giondana for posting the recipe....will try it some day!

Underground Seattle & "The Night Strangler"

I was13 years old when "The Night Strangler" hit the TV screen.

My Dad and I loved it.

The sequel to the 1972 hit "The Night Stalker", Strangler focused on Underground Seattle, an amazing place I never knew existed.

My dream had always been to travel to Seattle and take the tour.

A few years Marina and I were able to take it, and it certainly lived up to expectations.

While, not as elaborate as portrayed in the Strangler movie, it none-the-less is a great is a great tour and a wonderful setting to film a suspense movie!

Glad to have gone...and always love this set of two classic movies!

The city under a city...underground Seattle

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes...

"...he made a memory that would live as long as sons tell sons, about fathers they loved." -(Movie version of Something Wicked this Way Comes)

I finally read this book, after seeing the movie multiple times. The book is a wonderful tale of sons, growing up....with all the adventure of life. Best friends tackling good and evil.

Best friends on the hunt for adventure.

But its also a story of a Dad....who loves his son and will do whatever he must to protect him from evil. As a Dad...I can relate to this quest...and while I have often failed at it, the Dad in this wonderful story did not....at least not when faced with this huge evil and his understanding of the autumn people.

He taught his son well.

Why you should never take No for an answer in research....

In 1978, when I first decided to try to find missing family for my grandmother, it was a daunting task.

I knew that my grandfather had attempted to find his family.  My grandmother told me the story how, when they lived in Osoyoos, my grandfather had seen a newsreel report about the Spanish Civil War...this would have been in the mid to late 1930's.  On this newsreel he spotted a young man he felt looked like his youngest brother Johannes, being taken prisoner.

Keeping in mind the last letters our family received was in 1933.

There was no response to the request.

I set out...writing to the Red Cross for help.

Alas, the response was always negative.

Not wanting to give up, I tried again.  I would interview anyone I could find who had ties to the USSR, in hopes of leaving no stone unturned.

I subscribed to some Soviet publications, particularly aimed at Soviet Germans, that might be useful.

I wrote to any address I could get my hands on, hoping those might direct me.

Little did I know that at the same time, my grandfathers youngest brother, Johannes, was indeed hearing that we were looking for him.  A copy of one of the letters I wrote would find its way to him, but, sadly, the return address...my address, was not with the letter.

In the meantime, the Red Cross in the USSR finally managed to "find" our family.

In 1983, we were sent a letter detailing our search for some family, that included some names and addresses of family members.

 And so I wrote.

Johannes (Uncle Vanya) would tell us that her heard from the Red Cross almost a year earlier, then waited for our letters to arrive.

And what a writer he was.

In fact, all the family would soon respond.

In November of 1983, we would receive the first of many letters...in some strange envelope with Soviet stamps.

He would send us pictures, pepper us with questions, while answering the many questions we had.

My grandmother would finally learn the fate of her parents.  The fate of her beloved siblings.

We would learn of the family members who perished in the GULAG. The deportation to Siberia.

It was 50 years since we had last heard their voices.

There was much tragedy. News my grandmother didn't want to hear.  The deaths of her parents, in 1933. The brothers and sisters now gone.

We would re-establish ties to family.  The two sisters still alive of my grandmother's.

I tell this story because all initial responses to my request were negative.

But we kept trying.  We kept writing. Many people helped with translations of letters to Germany, Argentina and to the USSR.

Eventually, it paid off.

So...the moral of the story?  Don't give up. Keep at it.

There is truth out there. It may be up to you to find it.

 First Letters:

95 years ago...a test of courage

I never knew my grandfather, Paul Gerk.  This amazing man escaped from Russia at the age of 19.  Thrown in prison by the Communists at the age of 18, Paul left Russia with his oldest brother Michael in 1921. Traveling to Minsk, Michael will die of typhus.  Paul will join other Volga Germans escaping the communist government.  On December 9, 1922, Paul will arrive with a group of over 900 refugees, in Frankfurt/Oder in Germany.

He will be housed in a refugee camp for almost 2 years until arrangements can be made to leave Germany. Originally trying to travel to an uncle in Argentina, or family friends in Iowa, Paul will eventually be sponsored by a farm family in Holdfast, Saskatchewan, Canada.

He will arrive in Saint John's, New Brunswick on April 5, 1924.

95 years ago.

I have often thought about what Grandpa was thinking as he sought freedom in the West.  What it might have been like to live through the Communist Revolution, the Civil War and then the Red Terror.

My Dad always said his father was a quiet man.  I assume the pain of what he lived through, as well as leaving your entire family, never to hear from them again, weighed heavy on him.  A man of deep faith, Grandpa Gerk died at the age of 52 on June 3, 1954.

95 years ago this month, this courageous man arrived in Canada.  Everything our family has today, we owe it to the courage of this young man...and the kindness and generosity of so many people who helped him on his way.

May our family never forget him.

Baptism/Birth record for "Pavel Gerk", born 14 Jan 1902 (OS) Parents: Georgii Gerk & Margareta Rohwein. Godparents: Pavel Schaab & Elisabetha Domme

Passport for Paul Gerk, 1924

Refugee list, December 1924 listing Paul Gerk. Hopefully seeking aid from family friends in Fort Dodge, Iowa

Passenger list for Paul Gerk

Paul Gerk, 1946

A little girl's story....

She was born on October 14, 1912. The second youngest of nine children.

Ludvina Dieser was born to Johannes Dieser and Marie Eva Heit in the little German-Russian town of Josefstal, near the Volga River. (She is 3 years old in this photo from 1915)

My grandmother called her sister by her nickname, Lilly. Lilly was 13 years old when my grandmother left Russia forever in 1925.

In a story that Granny Gerk told me, she remembered Lilly sitting in the corner in their family home, during the Volga famine of 1921-22, and just chewing on her nails...there was so little food.

Lilly will survive that famine.

It was not until 1984, when we established contact again with our family in the USSR, that we would discover Lilly's fate.

Another famine would rage in Russia. 1933 was the last time we would hear from family.  Lilly will survive that dreadful year.  Her mother, my great-grandmother, will die from starvation in August of 1933. But in November of 1934, Lilly will die from complications from her weak condition at the age of 22.

Family members tell us that Lilly asked to be buried in the wedding dress she was saving for when she wed...because she was going home "to be with Jesus".

They will bury her in the same grave that they buried her Mother.

Another sad tale....but as I promised my grandmother, Lilly is not forgotten!

Did someone say Camels?

Volga German farmer using Camels

A fascinating part of the history of our Volga-German family was the use of Camels on the farm.

My grandmother mentioned it to me a few times...her family did not have them but the Gerk family did.

I don't know how many other families in their little village of Josefstal might have had them, but our family certainly did.

Confirmation came when this document about our family was discovered in the former Soviet archives in Volgograd (formerly Stalingrad)

It lists, among other things, the amount of land our family farmed...and also a list of farm animals owned.

It states:

…two wood houses, eight horses, from 8 to 10 bulls, 4 camels, 8 to 10 chickens, small livestock from 77 to 94, personal land of 45 hectares, rented land of 85 hectares. (Source: GAVO Fond 2659 Op. 2 14 L40)

So, there you have it. Our family had 4 camels. Fascinating to use camels on the farm...but common in Russia.

A sad family story: Peter & Ana Dieser

Peter Dieser was born in 1910, in the Volga German village of Josefstal.  His wife, Ana Benz, was also born around that time.

They married around 1930. Exact dates are unknown.

Peter was a younger brother to my grandmother, Elisabeth (Dieser) Gerk, born in 1902.

The last time my grandmother heard from her family, was in 1933, during the Soviet famine.

Peter and Ana would survive the famine, and then be deported to Siberia in September of 1941.

Having no children, Peter will survive labour camps and die in August of 1948.

My cousin, Alexander-Josef Dreser, once told me that Peter's death was pretty normal. He said that many of the people who might have survived labour camps were in such a weakened condition after their release, that they did not long survive after their release.

It's a sad story.  My grandmother had no idea until 1984 what happened to this younger brother. She would many times lament how she missed her siblings and her parents.

This post remembers Peter.

I promised my grandmother I would not forget them.

Mom & Dad's 25th Anniversary

 We were able to honour our parents in 1978 with a small party for their 25th Wedding Anniversary.

It's cool to come across the original invitation, and the "news" article after the event.

In those days, local newspapers would print such small stories of "local" events.

I'll post later a copy of the original wedding announcement, as well as some pictures.

For now this, as always, brings up good memories.

The Happy Prince

It's back...online. My favorite little movie that I would bring home for the kids....the days of 16mm!

Secrets from archives...

 I love history.  When I was 18, I set out to record the history of our family, as well as the history of the village they lived in.

That culminated in two separate books.

One of the privileges I have had, is to work in former Soviet Archives.

The other is to work with incredible people who have had ties to our family or village.

One of the amazing discoveries was from a lady named Barbara (Wagner) Schaab. Born in 1914 in the Volga German village of Josefstal, she would write me long letters in old German...giving me her recollections of life in her village.

One of the amazing things she sent me was a photograph, taken about 1928, by the side of the Church in Josefstal.  This Church was were my grandparents, Paul & Elisabeth (Dieser) Gerk were married in 1920.

My cousin, Alex Dreser, was able to compile a list of who was in the photograph.  My grandmother's brother is in the photo.  The priest in the front row, Father Johannes Falkenstein, was sent to Siberia.

Actually, every single person in this photograph was deported to Siberia.

And the fate of this Church?  The Church in which my grandparents were married in?  Here is a document I discovered while researching our village history.  Dated June 25, 1937, it orders the destruction of the Church in Josefstal...its lumber to be used to build a theatre in the nearby village of Oberdorf.

To be fair, the Church was not used any longer for religious purposes.  Most of the Volga German priests had been arrested...most of them were shot later in 1937...Soviet propaganda warned about the dangers of religious faith.....

Memories from days gone by....

 Sunday was always big family dinner time. On a regular basis, Mom and Dad would have Granny Gerk and Papa over for dinner as well.

Dinner was normally roast with mashed potatoes and gravy.

These pictures, were probably taken in July1974.

I was 14 years old.

This was taken at Mom and Dad's house at 2375 Rhondda Road. Dad is at the back...next to him is Granny Gerk...Mom can be seen just behind me...and Papa was talking at the time and can be seen pointing his finger.

I still remember almost every inch of this house....the furniture...and the meal times.


As always, good memories of people I loved very very much.

Raising kids in the 1980's

We were newly married.  Then we had kids two years into our marriage.

As with any parent, we were fearful of our own inadequacies.  Would we get this right?  How could we even think that we were capable of parenting these amazing beings?

At the same time, media reports were full of fear.  Fear of the unknown.  As parents, like so many others, we listened to some of that fear....mostly with good intentions.  We wanted to protect our kids from evil.  What parent doesn't?

It was interesting to come across this article.  I have not read ANY analysis of parenting in the 1980's...what it was like.

Many of the things we were fearful back then seem silly....but, as I said, we were all operating out of fear and that fear was fueled largely by the culture around us.

Fascinating that it was not just Church culture latching on to the fear....that was a small part of it...but major media as well....which we couldn't help but hear.

I tremble when I think of what is available today in the area of news and information.  We had no internet back then....just TV, radio and newspapers.

Fake News has always been a problem....for every generation I guess.

I take some small comfort in seeing that we were not the only ones....and that we were truly responding to what was being told to the culture at the time.

That's why, kids, we didn't like the SMURFS at the time...LOL.

See: "The Devil Made Them Do It: 8 Examples of Satanic Panic in the '80s"

Books from days gone by....

When I discovered Scholastic Books...I thought it was the most amazing thing in the world.  Imagine, inexpensive books delivered to me at school!

I loved it so much I took over the admin of it for the summer I was in Grade 7 and when I was in Grade 8...as none of the teachers were interested.

I got a lot of books over the years, but I did manage to save some of my favourites.  These books I read over and over again...I got these when I was in Grade 7....I was about 13.

89th Annual Turkey Dinner

Well, we did it.

It took 89 years...LOL, but we finally attended the "Turkey Dinner" at Corpus Christi Parish (formerly Saint Theresa's Parish).

The sign had met us every day.  So there was lost of time to process, plan...and go!

My grandparents used to participate in this dinner...hence the photograph here from about 1949....in which my grandmother, Elisabeth Gerk, is 5th from the right.

After all these years, it was kinda cool to attend this event...one which my grandparents were very involved in...eating in the same basement they worked in so many years ago!

 

Favourite Comic Books....

Growing up, one of my favourite comic books was Treasure Chest.

This Catholic oriented comic book was offered for sale in Catholic schools throughout North America.

One of my oldest brothers must have subscribed, because I remember it being brought home, at least for a year or two.

As the third youngest, I had to be content with waiting my turn to read it.

I remember my favourite being the Chuck White character.

The whole series dealing with buried treasure caught my attention as a nine-year old...and I remember it well.

All editions have been scanned, but I have a few original issues in my collection.

Rockets and more rockets....

When I was around 13 years of age, I discovered ROCKETS!  I built a number of models, usually semi-trucks....but then someone showed me a model rocket catalog...and I was hooked!

The actual purchase and building of a model rocket was not difficult in Canada.

Oh....but the flying of those same rockets....at the time they were strictly regulated...so in Canada...you had to get a special permit which included providing a map of the area where the rocket was going to be launched, etc.

Basically, it made it impossible.  But, thankfully, by the time I had kids, you were allowed to purchase the engines in Canada and, hopefully, use common sense and fly away!

One of the most enjoyable activities I did with my kids was building and flying a rocket in the field near our home!

Most model rockets were made by Estes...a company out of Colorado.  I would order their catalog...and dream......

Yes, I even became of member of the Estes Aerospace Club.

It's pretty cool that they have scanned  most of their catalogs going back decades.

The ones I remember start from about 1973 to 1977...when I had my strongest interest in building models.

I would literally pour over these catalogs for hours....

My Dad's radio

My Mom and Dad would often spend their summer evenings outside on the patio.  Dad had this Viking Multiband radio in which he would listen to the Police Band....listening for what was happening in our city....he even had a printout of police codes so he could figure out what was being referred to!

Wow, the things you can find for sale on the internet!

Singing Songs

When our kids were infants, we would often have to rock them to sleep at night.

By night, I'm talking about the middle of the night.

I think Marina and I often felt we would never sleep again!

But we did.  There is something special about rocking a infant to sleep, or to calm them down, when the house is quiet and everyone else is sleeping.

My kids don't have memories of those moments. I wouldn't imagine they would...they were all under 2 when such nights came...

Two songs come to mind that we sang.  Gospel singer Keith Green was big in our day....so we would sing a few of his songs....I remember singing and humming these two songs to our kids....

Christmas gifts long ago....

Mr brother Tom and I often would get duplicate Christmas gifts because we were close in age and had many of the same interests.

I remember in the 1960's getting these.  It took awhile for my Dad to set them up for us, because they had to be wired in the basement, but he did. They worked great for a time until the furnace came on...and then at least mine would not work.

Found photos of these...pretty cool...

My great-grandfather: A Photograph, of a photograph, of a photograph

The only surviving photograph of one of my great-grandfathers, Johannes Dieser, taken while he was in the army during World War 1, around 1914. He was my Granny Gerk's Dad..dying in 1933. My great-grandmother starved to death also in that year.

 Family members in Russia would painstakingly change the photograph, taking out any Tsarist symbols from his uniform. To have a photograph of a loved one with ANY former Russian regime insignia in the USSR, could get your entire family immediately sent to Siberia, or worse, shot, for being an Enemy of the People! The photograph, of a photograph, of a photograph…was all designed to protect the owner.

But heck, they shipped the family off to Siberia anyways!

Camera Memories continued...

I may have bought this NEVER BEEN USED Hawkeye Camera kit!!  Wow.

Cameras

Growing up, as in any family, in the 60's and 70's, my parents took pictures.

Often there was not enough money to get those pictures developed. I remember taking a drawer full of rolls of film to get developed for my parents.

Anyways, this was the camera of choice for my parents.  I remember it well. A Brownie Hawkeye camera.

I saw one in an antique store recently, which kind of jogged my memory.  I didn't even know the name, but there it was.  A quick search and it seems there are lots of them for sale online..with some folks even still insisting it is their camera of choice for snapping photos!

Alas, our camera disappeared through the years. But it's another one of those memories of my family growing up.

Next up....Looking for another Georg Gerk

All of our family that remained in the USSR ended up in labour camps.  As the years have gone by, we've been able to account for almost everyone.  We have even been able to discover the death dates and places of two of my grandfather's brothers...who perished in the GULAG.

One of the sons of those Uncles, Georg Gerk, was also missing.  Family tell me that they do not know what happened to him.

This database put out by the Russian group Memorial, is the first step to finding out what happened to him.

It confirms some aspects of where he was, obviously with his father in a city called Kirovabad (now called Ganja) in Azerbaijan.

After that he was sent to the Ulyanovsk area....where he was until at least 1943.

After that...silence....no one knows what happened.

The hunt for him goes on....

I'll keep you posted. 

My prayer for 2018

Sweetheart

When my Dad was recovering from cancer surgery, and I looked at him lying there...I told him I loved him.  He responded by saying "I love you too, sweetheart".

For those of you born in another age, probably recent, you might have never heard this type of exchange.

In fact, I remember calling one of my kids "sweetheart", and they really took offense.

I guess it's been used in a derogatory way too many times, to mean what it actually does. I tried to explain...but I'm not sure it went very far.

It's not just a romantic, or sarcastic term.  It actually does also say it can be "...used as a term of endearment or affectionate form of address."

I bring it up because Marina and I were at a restaurant recently where a big burly Dad called his son "sweetheart".

It just reminded me of my Dad.

Christmases gone by....

Not that anyone is interested, but for my own sake I thought I'd put here some of the amazing gifts I received from my parents over the years.

My Dad worked very hard to provide for his family.  Working long hours in a thankless job in the fruit industry.

But us five kids really never did without.  My parents were of that generation who were very poor growing up, so they wanted to give things to their kids that they never had.

Something both my wife and I also tried to do with our kids. We love our kids and just wanted them to know we thought they were special.

I never realized the sacrifice my Mom & Dad must have made to ensure that we kids had a great Christmas...until I had my own kids.

I've racked my brain trying to remember at least some of the amazing gifts I got...just another good memory...making me even more thankful that I had the parents I did.

There were two sources that a kid could go to in choosing what they wanted for Christmas.  Both Simpson Sears (Later just Sears) and Eaton's.  Both companies published their long anticipated Christmas catalogues in the fall.

These two catalogues were the source of many battles...as oldest siblings got first dibs on them...

My first camera, given to me at Christmas 1968/69 when I was 9 years old...this Big Swinger Polaroid instant camera just shot in Black and White...and knowing my parents, was probably purchased from the Simpson Sears catalogue....it used small flashbulbs....

It started me on my love of photography.

A great TV Show...and then the Toy came out...battery powered...my brother Tom and I had one each...

 

Major Matt Mason!  At the height of the Moon Landings, came this great toy!  I loved this!

 

Saw this at an antique store recently. Almost...almost bought one.  I remember my parents buying me this, then I charged everyone a dime for my first slide "show".

 

Every kid should get one of these at least once in their life.  It really did keep us busy, and you can still buy these today.