Excerpt of family history letter written by Ahmie (Adelaide) Apfeld (daughter of John).
Saturday August 27, 1960
*** (partial of letter only)
So then, to begin with, let's take the old patriarch, Mathias, and he was that, indeed, for he begat thirteen children! (Too many, say I!) He was a thrifty man and built up a fine linen business. He raised acres and acres of flax. How beautiful they must have looked when all in bloom. Those lovely blue flowers. He manufactured the linen himself and had his own factories and the linens were very beautiful- so his business prospered. He had fine high stepping horses and as they drove along in their carriage, his wife, Caroline, carried one of those tiny parasols – fancy little things – used so long, long ago. Less fortunate people plugged along in carts. Anyway, although so prosperous, you know how that German military spirit, with its grasping claws clutched all young men into its servitude and Mathias fearing for his brood, responded to that compelling magnet – glorious America – way across the seas far out of reach of those bloody claws. So then, with his loved ones, he faced the unknown as so many adventurers have done since and will continue to do till the end of days. My father, John Mathias, was only seventeen at that time – (the age when they say in these modern times – "They know everything.") My mother's diary from which the names and dates were obtained for the tree does not give the names of those other nine children. I've often wondered if any descendants of theirs are living in these United States anywhere, or perhaps some may have died of small pox which ravaged the country in those early days, of which grandfather fell a victim, for you notice he lived only two years in the land of his dreams.
****
Saturday August 27, 1960
*** (partial of letter only)
So then, to begin with, let's take the old patriarch, Mathias, and he was that, indeed, for he begat thirteen children! (Too many, say I!) He was a thrifty man and built up a fine linen business. He raised acres and acres of flax. How beautiful they must have looked when all in bloom. Those lovely blue flowers. He manufactured the linen himself and had his own factories and the linens were very beautiful- so his business prospered. He had fine high stepping horses and as they drove along in their carriage, his wife, Caroline, carried one of those tiny parasols – fancy little things – used so long, long ago. Less fortunate people plugged along in carts. Anyway, although so prosperous, you know how that German military spirit, with its grasping claws clutched all young men into its servitude and Mathias fearing for his brood, responded to that compelling magnet – glorious America – way across the seas far out of reach of those bloody claws. So then, with his loved ones, he faced the unknown as so many adventurers have done since and will continue to do till the end of days. My father, John Mathias, was only seventeen at that time – (the age when they say in these modern times – "They know everything.") My mother's diary from which the names and dates were obtained for the tree does not give the names of those other nine children. I've often wondered if any descendants of theirs are living in these United States anywhere, or perhaps some may have died of small pox which ravaged the country in those early days, of which grandfather fell a victim, for you notice he lived only two years in the land of his dreams.
****
Excerpt of family history letter written by Ahmie (Adelaide) Apfeld (daughter of John).
Saturday August 27, 1960
*** (partial of letter only)
So then, to begin with, let's take the old patriarch, Mathias, and he was that, indeed, for he begat thirteen children! (Too many, say I!) He was a thrifty man and built up a fine linen business. He raised acres and acres of flax. How beautiful they must have looked when all in bloom. Those lovely blue flowers. He manufactured the linen himself and had his own factories and the linens were very beautiful- so his business prospered. He had fine high stepping horses and as they drove along in their carriage, his wife, Caroline, carried one of those tiny parasols – fancy little things – used so long, long ago. Less fortunate people plugged along in carts. Anyway, although so prosperous, you know how that German military spirit, with its grasping claws clutched all young men into its servitude and Mathias fearing for his brood, responded to that compelling magnet – glorious America – way across the seas far out of reach of those bloody claws. So then, with his loved ones, he faced the unknown as so many adventurers have done since and will continue to do till the end of days. My father, John Mathias, was only seventeen at that time – (the age when they say in these modern times – "They know everything.") My mother's diary from which the names and dates were obtained for the tree does not give the names of those other nine children. I've often wondered if any descendants of theirs are living in these United States anywhere, or perhaps some may have died of small pox which ravaged the country in those early days, of which grandfather fell a victim, for you notice he lived only two years in the land of his dreams.
****
Saturday August 27, 1960
*** (partial of letter only)
So then, to begin with, let's take the old patriarch, Mathias, and he was that, indeed, for he begat thirteen children! (Too many, say I!) He was a thrifty man and built up a fine linen business. He raised acres and acres of flax. How beautiful they must have looked when all in bloom. Those lovely blue flowers. He manufactured the linen himself and had his own factories and the linens were very beautiful- so his business prospered. He had fine high stepping horses and as they drove along in their carriage, his wife, Caroline, carried one of those tiny parasols – fancy little things – used so long, long ago. Less fortunate people plugged along in carts. Anyway, although so prosperous, you know how that German military spirit, with its grasping claws clutched all young men into its servitude and Mathias fearing for his brood, responded to that compelling magnet – glorious America – way across the seas far out of reach of those bloody claws. So then, with his loved ones, he faced the unknown as so many adventurers have done since and will continue to do till the end of days. My father, John Mathias, was only seventeen at that time – (the age when they say in these modern times – "They know everything.") My mother's diary from which the names and dates were obtained for the tree does not give the names of those other nine children. I've often wondered if any descendants of theirs are living in these United States anywhere, or perhaps some may have died of small pox which ravaged the country in those early days, of which grandfather fell a victim, for you notice he lived only two years in the land of his dreams.
****
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