Showing posts with label genealogy. Show all posts

Jewish Genealogy: The Genographic Project


I used to teach a class on DNA and genealogy, and maybe I will again at some point. It came from my own interest in the subject. I first had my own DNA tested four years ago, which wound up connecting me with my biological family.

I initially tested myself through a company called 23andme because they also offered testing for genetic illnesses. As an adopted child, I did not know if I had increased likelihood for heart disease, or stroke, or Alzheimer's, or the like. It was rather terrifying to request the results, but I was then in my 40s and figured if long-term planning would be needed, it would be better to know sooner than later.

The test also offered an ethnicity estimate, which I have reproduced below:


As you can see, 23andme has me as almost exclusively European, and largely English and Irish (they do not distinguish). All this was consistent with what I knew from my biological family, which is Irish-American. There are a few surprises in there: Some French and German, some West African, and even a hint of Native American.

23andme is good about letting you know that these results are highly speculative. In fact, you can change the confidence level of the results, and when I switch it from speculative to conservative, all the surprises go away, and I am left with British and Irish and a collecting of generalized European DNA.

I went on to take a few more tests. The next, from Ancestry.com, gave me the following result:


Again with great confidence in my Irish heritage, which is distinguished from the remainder of Great Britain and comes in at 66 percent, and then, with much less confidence, some Scandinavian, Iberian, and even Jewish ethnicity. In another section, they even guess as to the area in Ireland my people come from: Northern Connacht. My people mostly come from County Clare, which is in Northern Connacht, so well done, Ancestry.com.

Of course, they also had access to my family tree, which I created on their site, which explicitly lists my ancestors as coming from Clare, so maybe this isn't that surprising an analysis.

If you have done a previous DNA tests, you can upload your results to Family Tree DNA, so I did that, and they produced their own ethnicity results, which I will not comment on, as they look like this:




I am something of a completist, so recently I submitted a DNA sample (spit; it's always spit) to the  Geneographic Project. This is through National Geographic, and I was interested in seeing their ethnicity estimate.

They do it a little differently; the others rely largely on self-reported ethnicity, and so their results are not quite junk science, but, let's say, still in their infancy. People often don't really know their own ethnicity, or only know a part of it, or have been lied to about it. Americans by and large all seem to think there is a Cherokee princess in their background, as though the Cherokee tribe did nothing but produce princesses who all then married white men. So where these ethnicity estimates say "low confident," I am going to say "probably wrong."

But the Genographic Project bases its results on relatively stable populations, and compares your results against the typical results from that region. They don't offer any low-confidence answers. Instead, my results looked like this:


They then compare this against reference populations, to see what countries tend to have a similar result. Mine was most like the results found on the British Islands, although I lack Southwestern European, Northeastern European, and the small amount of Jewish Diaspora DNA found in your typical British person.

My Asia Minor and West Mediterranean DNA is atypical for the British. And I have twice as much Eastern European DNA as your average resident of the British Isles and Ireland.

The Eastern European influence is new -- none of the other tests produced it. And, as someone who spends so much time working on a project based in my adoptive Eastern European heritage, I am delighted that National Geographic has decided I have actual Eastern European DNA. Sixteen percent may not seem like that much, but its a larger amount that a previous test gave me for English DNA (5 percent), and I am not going to stop drinking Old Speckled Hen anytime soon.

There more, too. The Genographic Project, in particular, was created to look into the distant past of genetics, as far back as 100,000 years, through something called Haplogroups, which look back to a single shared ancestors in the distant recesses of the past.

On my biological father's side, I belong to a haplogroup called P305, which belonged to Y-chromosome Adam, an African and very ancient human male. Much later there is U106, which moved into Europe somewhere between 4,250-14,000 years ago, and then finally there is L48, my most recent haplogroup, and a mysterious one, whose age is unknown and is mostly found in Belgium, the Netherlands, and England, among a few other places.

I can follow the evolution of my maternal DNA like this, starting with a haplogroup called L3, which originated in East Africa 67,000 years ago, and then split off into R about 55,000 years ago, which moved into East Asia, and finally turned into  K1a sometimes in the last 18,000 years, approximately. It represents only 2 percent of the population of Northern Ireland, but that's my population, right there.

But there is something else there. I am not genetically Jewish. There is not a hint of Ashkenazi Judaism in any of my tests. But I share a common ancestor with Ashkenazi Jews.

You see, before K1a, there is the K haplogroup, which developed in West Asia around 27,000 years ago, and K is the maternal haplogroup most frequently claimed by Ashkenazi Jews.

Let's stop here for a moment.

Let's stop, because ethnicity is not determined by genetics, and neither is religion. There is a real problem, in fact, with people claiming genetic identities with which they have no other connection. I have especially heard complaints about this from Native American and Rom Gypsy authors, who write about ostensibly white people who suddenly discover some distant ancestry and begin to show up at Indian or Gypsy events, claiming membership and even leadership.

Instead, I'd like to suggest that this demonstrates how awesomely complicated our genetic heritages are, and how they can dovetail with ethnicity in interesting, if not definitive, ways.

I am already a Jew, regardless of my haplotype. I am because I was adopted by a Jewish family and raised within a Jewish tradition. I am culturally Ashkenazi, because that is the tradition I was raised in, and pursue an interest in the experience of Eastern European Jews because that is where my grandparents came from, regardless of whether I have a genetic connection with the region or not.

I am also an Irish-American, and am so because I have direct Irish ancestors, and I have spent my life exploring and participating in the Irish-American experience.

I would offer this suggestion to anyone who gets these sorts of tests: Each ethnic group determines its own membership, but it is generally accessed through some combination of familial relationship and participation. If you discover you have a distant genetic relationship with a group that otherwise you have had no experience with, find out what membership means for them before you claim it for yourself.

And realize that these DNA tests are a relatively new science. They are pretty good at communicating the fact that there is tremendous uncertainty in their results -- try to respect that. Because you don't want to run out and learn Lithuanian and buy a Lithuanian folk costume and start showing up at Lithuanian-American events, if they'll have you, only to have an algorithm update and suddenly declare you Polish.

Identity politics is hard enough without throwing in mistaken identity politics.

My other name


I have another name

It's my first name, actually, although I only learned about it recently. There are some very early records of my life, locked away for almost 49 years at Hennepin County's Juvenile Court. They detailed my adoption, and, because the law then sealed these records, they were not available to me until I recently petitioned the court for them.

They came in the mail on Valentine's Day, and there it was, on page after page of official documents, my first name, the name before I was adopted, before I became a Sparber, when I had no real name and so was given a temporary one.

Baby Boy Monaghan.

I first heard this name about two years ago, from the adoption agency that handled my case. As some of you know, as a result of a DNA service, I discovered the identity of my biological mother, the deceased author and scholar Patricia Monaghan.

With the help of her husband I was able to gain access to my files from the adoption agency. And while I was speaking to a representative of the agency, she told me that before I was adopted, I was called Baby Boy Monaghan.

I fell in love with the name. It sounded like the moniker of a Victorian bare-knuckle boxer or a 1920s Irish gangster.


It also felt like it gave me a name for my Irish self.

As Max Sparber, I feel like what I am, a Jewish boy from St. Louis Park whose grandparents came from Eastern Europe, the guy who edits a Jewish newspaper, the guy who teaches himself Yiddish and writes this blog.

But there is another me as well. There's the me who was conceived in an Irish bar in Fairbanks, Alaska. The me whose biological mother was an Irish citizen and wrote scholarly books about Irish myth. The me who has always been aware of my Irish ethnicity, and who studied Irish history and mythology and language, who authored a blog about the Irish American experience called The Happy Hooligan. Who plays penny whistle and had a Celtic Punk band called the Peter O'Tooles.

That's me too.

Before learning the details of my adoption, that part felt undernourished. There are things Irish-Americans often know, like the county their family came from, and I didn't know it. Irish-Americans get their identities in a few places, largely from family, church, and bar, and I only had access to one of those three, and only when I turned 21.

Now I feel glutted, at least as far as family is concerned. (I will never have the church experience in any meaningful way, since I am Jewish, but, then, neither do Irish Jews, and there are plenty of them.) My DNA test brought me a massive biological family, who have been tremendously welcoming, and who passed along to me their family history.

So I know how I got here and where I came from, at least on my biological mother's side of things. I know that in the past there were the Monaghans, the Deasys, the Dunlanys, and the the Gordons, all from County Mayo.

I now have photographs of Irish immigrants who all look like me, and know their stories: The Manhattan police officer in the Victorian costume who was my biological great-great grandfather, the striking woman in the giant hat and fur collar who was my biological great-grandmother.

This is the part of me that is Monaghan, and I am glad to now have a name for it: Baby Boy Monaghan.

Jewish Genealogy: In Praise of the Baal Shem Tov


Let me take a moment to map out my family tree leading back to Ze'ev Wolf Kitzes, my 8th great grandfather, the Hasid I am investigating at the start of this project. It goes like this, listing only direct descendants of Kitzes and not their spouses:

Max Sparber -> Claire Kestenbaum -> Ida Kitzis -> Isaac N Kitzis -> Noah Kitzis -> Chaim Nachman Kitzis -> Wolf Ozer Kitzis -> Israel Kitzis -> Nachman Kitzis -> Ze'ev Wolf Kitzes

I pieced this together from an online genealogy of Wolf Kitzes, and, who knows, it might be completely wrong. I suspect it's pretty accurate, though, as even when students of the Ba'al Shem Tov didn't create dynasties of wonder rabbis, as with Kitzes, their families still tended to be pretty diligent about maintaining the family tree. It's something called "yikhus" in Yiddish, a sort of pride in the accomplishments of ancestors. I will continue to investigate the family tree as I am able, but it is a starting point.

I should note that, at the moment, I have no idea how I know that I am descended from Kitzes. I had thought my mother told me, but she insists that she never did, she found out from me. I feel as though I have known since I was in my teens, when I was in the Jewish high school, and I expect it is likely that someone else in her family told me, but we're lost as to who that might be. Nonetheless, we do fit onto the Kitzes family tree perfectly as it is, and this isn't the sort of thing I would just make up as a child. I was a strange child, but not that strange. This is another area I will continue to investigate.

And one more quick note: As I am adopted, there probably will be some who do not feel it is appropriate for me to claim Kitzes as an ancestor. After all, I have biological ancestors, all from Ireland, and I claim them too.

Thankfully, I do not need to care what these people think. I am not trying to claim leadership in a Hasidic dynasty, as Kitzes established no such dynasty. I am not trying to marry into a Hasidic family, or claiming property, or anything where my biological relationship to Kitzes might be important. I consider myself to be a grandson, and I doubt he would have taken issue with that, for reasons I shall detail. But, as for now, I simply need remind people that the Talmud, in discussing several children that King David is said to have adopted, declared that "Whoever brings up an orphan in his home is regarded, according to Scripture, as though the child had been born to him."

Onward. As I mentioned in my previous post, there are a number of stories told about Wolf Kitzes, and my goal was to start with those stories and determine where they came from. This week, I begin with what must be considered the ur-text of Hasidic Judaism, a book called "Shivhei ha-Best," or, in English, "In Praise of the Baal Shem Tov." I purchased a copy in translation, an academic work produced by Dan Ben-Amos and Jerome R. Mintz in 1993.

The original book was written in a sort of primitive Hebrew in 1814, originally with no credited author, but in later editions credited to Rabbi Dov Baer ben Samuel. Rabbi Dov Baer was the son-in-law of Rabbi Alexander the Shohet, who had been the scribe for the Baal Shem Tov, the father of Hasidic Judaism, often called the Besht for short. And so Baer drew from his memories and from stories told to him about the Baal Shem Tov, assembling the first collection of tales told about the rabbi.

The book was produced a generation after the death of the Baal Shem Tov, and wasn't intended as a historical document but instead as a collection of miracle stories, but it's the earliest text we have dedicated specifically to the Besht. And Wolf Kitzes appears in this book in a half-dozen stories (called Kotzes in this edition), which I will summarize in a moment. I will not focus overmuch on the life of the Baal Shem Tov in writing about my great-grandfather, but I will say that this book manages to be both wildly entertaining and tremendously alien. Stories often seem gormless or lack significant detail, sometimes seeming like fairytales, sometimes seeming like dreams, and sometimes just seeming like arguments with a little magic trick thrown in.

Nonetheless, they are always recognizably Jewish. My favorite tells of the Baal Shem Tov fighting a werewolf, if you can believe it. There aren't that many Jewish werewolf stories, and the only part of this one that feels unmistakably Jewish is the Baal Shem Tov's reason for becoming a hunter of lycathropes: The monster is distracting children from their studies.

Here, as follows, are summaries of the Wolf Kitzes stories in the collection, with a few notes at the end:

STORY 34: THE BESHT'S TREMBLING IN PRAYER


The story comes from Rabbi Falk of Chechelnik, who heard it from Rabbi Abraham, who came from Mezhybozhe, where the Baal Shem Tov lived and worked. Rabbi Abraham said that he witnessed the Besht start trembling during prayer. Wolf Kitzes went to examine him, and the Baal Shem Tov was "burning like a torch" and his eyes were bugging out. Rabbis Abraham and Kitzes took the Baal Shem Tov by the hands to the ark, where the Torah scroll is kept, and he stood there trembling, postponing the reading of the Torah.

STORY 41: THE BESHT IN THE MESSIAH'S HEAVENLY PALACE


This story also comes from Rabbi Falk. On Yom Kippur, the Besht heard that "the oral tradition would no longer" belong to the Jews. He was so overcome with sorrow that he could only bless two of his visitors that night, and he said harsh words to them at the synagogue. He then fell crying onto the ark, asking how the Jews could survive without the Torah.

He was angry at rabbis, blaming them for this misery. During prayers, he became increasingly agitated, and when he read the words "Open the gates of heaven," he doubled over, nearly falling. Congregants wanted to support the Besht, and so went to Kitzes, who looked at the Baal Shem Tov and saw that "his eyes bulged and he sounded like a slaughtered bull."

The Besht was like this for two hours, and then suddenly stood up and finished his prayers. Afterwards, he told the congregants that during prayer he found he could move from this world to the next. As he moved through God's palace, he found prayers from the past 50 years that had not ascended. He asked the prayers why they remained, and they said they were waiting for the Besht to lead them. And so the Besht led the prayers into heaven.

But there, he found the gate locked. In a panic, he consulted with Ahijah the Shilonite, the Biblical prophet, saying the Jewish people were in trouble. Ahijah attempted to turn the lock, but could not, and so they went to the palace of the Messiah. The Messiah gave the Besht two holy letters, and suddenly the Besht could turn the lock. With that, the prayers ascended, and the decree that the Jews would lose the Torah was lifted.

STORY 123: A DOWRY


This story originates from Rabbi Tsevi the Scribe. He tells of a marriage between two orphans, a girl that the Besht had raised and a boy that Wolf Kitzes had raised. The Besht had pledged two hundred gold coins as the girl's dowry.

Before the wedding, Kitzes told the Besht that the wedding would not continue until he had the gold coins. The Besht was surprised, feeling Kitzes did not trust him, and Kitzes explained that he could not continue to raise and educate the boy without the money. In the meanwhile, another rabbi approached the Besht with a debt that needed to be paid immediately.

The Besht told the rabbi to immediately go and pay the debt and then to return for the wedding. The rabbi went to the house of the man who owned the debt, who at once renounced the debt and immediately declared that he owed the Besht two hundred gold coins. The rabbi tarried on the way home to tell an innkeeper of the miracle, and the Besht was very irritated with him for holding up the wedding.

STORY 128: THE BESHT'S FUNERAL


At the Besht's funeral, a rabbi was puzzled to see nothing extraordinary. But on his way home from the cemetery he saw "great and wonderful things." He told Wolf Kitzes, who said that this was undoubtedly "the way it had to be."

STORY 152: THE WANDERING SOUL


When the Besht moved to Mezhybozhe, there was already a community of Hasidim there, including Wolf Kitzes, and they did not regard the Besht as an important man. He was a Baal Shem, an itinerant miracle worker, and this was not seen as being the work a pious person should do.

But the rabbis had a student who was sick and who wanted  to see the Besht, and eventually they relented. They told the student to tell them everything that happened. A boy hid in the room.

The Besht saw the student and told him he would die, but could not enter paradise because there was one thing he had not yet "corrected." The student admitted this was true, and the Besht said he would take care of it and it would not keep him from paradise. The Besht told him not to tell anybody, and when the rabbis came to visit the student, he would not tell them what happened. However, the boy who hid in the room related the story, and the student told them it was true.

The rabbis demanded the sick student visit them after death and tell them what happened. He appeared after death and told them he was let into paradise, but could not find a place there. He finally found the Besht at a table teaching Torah. He asked the Besht why he could not find a place in paradise, and the Besht told the student that it was because he had not honored the Besht's request not to reveal what had happened.

The rabbis went to the Besht, who said that he knew that student had come to them as a ghost, and at once the rabbis became followers of the Baal Shem Tov. It turns out that the student never found a place in paradise, but was given a place by the gates.

173: RABBI JEHIEL MIKHEL


I will abbreviate this one significantly: It tells of a new rabbi in the community, Rabbi Mikhel the Judge, who spends most of the story arguing with Wolf Kitzis about fine points of Jewish law (and, later, astrology), until the Besht wipes his mind of all knowledge. At first Rabbi Mikhel thinks he is foggy from having drunk too much mead, but realizes he has lost his knowledge due to the Besht, and goes to confront him.

The Besht scolds him: "Is it to argue and to tease that we learn the Torah?" Immediately, Rabbi Mikhel realizes that the Besht's scolding is right, and becomes a righteous man.

199. THE PREACHER CANCELS THE CHARGES AGAINST A RABBI


In the community of Bar, a Jew argued with the head of court and lodged a complaint with the Governor. This Jew went to the Besht to ask him to pray for a good outcome, and the Besht said he would.

But there was a Preacher in town who knew the Jew to be an evil man and his charges to be false, and so the preacher cancelled the charges. The Preacher may have been the brother-in-law of Wolf Kitzes, and once they were both at a meal with the Besht. The Baal Shem Tov expressed confusion that his prayer had not been answered.

The preacher laughed, and his in-law, perhaps Wolf Kitzes, said that he had seen a minyan of 10 Jewish men, which would have been used to cancel the complaint. The preacher ignored this, but the Besht pressed him, and the Preacher answered that he knew the truth of the charge, and he had cancelled it.

The Besht responded to this, saying "Blessings be on your head. You have done well."

203: THE BESHT CHOKES ON HIS FOOD


The Besht was at a feast and began to choke on bread. Everyone became worried, but Wolf Kitzes looked at him and told them to leave him be. After a long while, the Besht recovered, and explained that as he ate, he thought about when Moses was first given meat, and Moses appeared, causing him to choke.

SOME NOTES

So there isn't much here that is biographical. Wolf Kitzes appears as most of the people do in these stories, as supporting characters in the Besht's story, weirdly, often checking on the Besht when the man is choking or having some sort of seizure, which he seemed to do a lot.

We can glean that Wolf Kitzis was in Medzhibozh, in Ukraine, which is true. We know him to be an educated man, which is true, as his biography states he was the rabbi of Tulchyn before he moved to Medzhibozh.

Story 152 also has Wolf Kitzes as one of the leaders of a community of Hasidim before the Baal Shem Tov appears, which I have read elsewhere, and is interesting. In most popular histories, Hasidism begins with the Baal Shem Tov, but in these early accounts he instead becomes the leader of an already extant movement. I am looking forward to learning more about this.

Finally, and most meaningful to me, there is story 123, in which both the Besht and Wolf Kitzis have adopted children and are marrying them to each other. This is the first I have heard of this, and, obviously, as an adopted child, it stands out to me, especially in the way both the Besht and Wolf Kitzis fulfill the roles of parents in the story. Wolf Kitzis demands a dowry for the education and support of the boy, which the Besht is expected to fulfill, and the Besht is quite irritated when someone delays the wedding.

This strikes me as decidedly parental behavior, and isn't surprising, as while adopted children (typically referred to as "orphans") are a bit unusual in Jewish law, they are, for the most part, treated as biological children. Additionally, I have read that the Besht himself was orphaned as a child and raised by his community, and so the Besht may have had special sympathy for orphans.

Who was the boy in the story? It's not clear, although Gershon David Hundert in "Essential Papers on Hasidism" theorizes that it might have been a stepson of the Besht named Shmuel, who I have not been able to find anything more about. There is another possibility as well: The Besht had a daughter named Udel Ashkenazi who was married to Yechiel Ashkenazi, and who is credited as being the son of Baruch Ashkenazi and Shifra Ashkenazi. It is remotely possible he was the orphan in question, although I have no evidence of this whatsoever, except that Yechiel's hometown was Tulchy, where Wolf Kitzis was rabbi.

Whatever the case, this is the first that I have heard that there is a hidden legacy of adoption that links both my great-grandfather and the Baal Shem Tov, and, as you can imagine, I liked to discover this. I liked it very much.

Jewish Geneology: The Hasid


I don't know if I have mentioned it, but my day job is in a historical society. Specifically, I am the society's lone professional researcher, which, in practice, means that I fill a lot of roles. One of them is teaching a genealogy class.

I am not a trained genealogist, but, then, my class is quite introductory, and, in order to be a teacher, you need not know everything about a subject, you merely need to know more than your students. I have pursued my own family tree, on and off, since I was in my early twenties, and quite avidly for the past few years.

Properly, that should be plural: I have pursued my own family trees. I have two, one biological and one adoptive. The biological one points exclusively back to Ireland. The adoptive one points to a variety of places in Eastern Europe, and many of the branches end as you might expect, with extermination at the hands of the Nazis. This is the distressing fact of Jewish genealogy is your family is Ashkenazi -- it inevitably ends up being a map of genocide. This may be an area of investigation for me at some time in the future, as I can't help but feel that they deserve some documentation from a family member. It is not my first area of investigation, however.

My Irish family tree isn't terribly long. Ireland lost many of its official records in a fire in 1922, and that tends to create a wall for genealogists. My biological family has done research on their own, as they still have relative in Bohola in County Mayo they keep in touch with. So I have some names that go back to the 1800s. There is my biological 3rd great grandmother Margaret O'Brien, as an example, who was born about 1821.

But my adoptive family's tree goes back much further. It goes back to 1660, and this is thanks to the Hasid.

I don't know when I first learned about the Hasid. I feel like it must have been back in high school. I had thought my mother had told me about him, but she insists she didn't, so it may have been my uncle. Nonetheless, at some moment in the past, I learned that via adoption I was now part of the family line of a man named Ze'ev Wolf Kitzes.

I am going to continue to write this under the assumption that my readers know a little bit about Hasids. I will assume you know that it began as an ecstatic, mystical movement in Western Ukraine in the 18th century, and was headed by a man named Rabbi Yisroel ben Eliezer, generally called the Ba'al Shem Tov, or the Master of the Good Name.

I found a photograph, converted into the illustration at the top of the page, last week. It is from an old Jewish cemetery in Medzhybizh, Ukraine. For those of you who can't read Hebrew letters, the grave on the right is labeled "Rabbi Israel Ba'al Shem Tov." The grave on the left is labeled Ze'ev Wolf Kitzes.

That's my ancestor, buried next to the leader of Hadidic Judaism. I did not know that was where his grave was.

I did know a few things about the Hasid, though. The fact that he is my ancestor was the basis for a play I once wrote called "Kishinev," and I did an awful lot of research for the play. I knew he was a Hasid even before the Ba'al Shem Tov was a Hasid; he was reportedly one of the leaders of a group of early Hasidim, and although he was apparently initially skeptical of  the Ba'al Shem Tov, he quickly became a devotee.

There are miracle stories about Wolf Kitzes in Martin Buber's books on Hasidim, and there are stranger stories still in books published by and for Hasidic Jews. There is a story that I made the centerpiece of my play, in which Wolf Kitzes was to take a journey, and the Ba'al Shem Tov told him if anyone should ask him how things go with the Jews, he should tell the truth. Wolf Kitzes becomes lost on his trip and is sheltered by a man, and, when asked about the Jews, responds that God watches over them. Wolf Kitzes returns to a distraught Ba'al Shem Tov, who informs him that the man was the patriarch Abraham, and he could have intervened on behalf of the ailing Jews had Wolf Kitzes told the truth.

I don't remember where I read this story, or how close this version (the version I put in my play) is to the original. And so I plan to do some digging.

Just last week I managed to push my family tree far enough back to find Wolf. Even though he did not start a dynasty of Rebbes, Hasids are pretty dedicated to maintaining family trees of important Rabbis, and so Wolf's is online. I could follow his family down through the ages, one Kitzes after another, finally connecting to my grandmother, and then my mother, and then me.

I don't know anything about the intermediate family but for their names, and sometimes not even that. Sometimes Jews like to pretend we were not as sexist as the rest of the world -- after all, to be a Jew, you need a Jewish mother! We're a matriarchy!

But if you want to see a chart of power, rather than ethnic membership, my family tree is an example. All the men are named. Many of the women aren't. There is my 6th great-grandfather Israel Kitzes, and then there is his wife, Wife Kitzes. There is his father, Nachman Kitzes, and there is his mother, Wife of Nachmann. His father was Ze'ev Wolf, the Hasid, and while I know his wife's name -- Rachel -- one of his daughters is on my family tree as Daughter Kitzes.

I don't know that I will be able to fill in these blanks. But this is my family history, and I am interested in it, so I shall dig into this as best I can. I'll start with the Hasid himself, Ze'ev Wolf Kitzes, because it has been a long time since I have looked into the life of my 8th great grandfather, and it is time that I did.