Stories from My Life, #2: Grandparents from Russia, the Depression, and Costco Blueberries

Image, Public Domain, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

My grandparents on my mother’s side, Fred and Mollie Kern, emigrated from Russia in 1913. They didn’t consider themselves Russian. They spoke German and came from a German region. The story goes that Grandpa and Grandma stole away in the middle of the night because Grandpa’s family would have stopped them. Furthermore, their timing was indeed fortuitous. Had they waited just one more year, with the start of World War I, Grandpa would certainly have been drafted into the army. Considering the high death rate of Russian conscripts, my mother may never have been born, and thus I wouldn’t exist.

Their trip to the new world was made possible because other family from Grandma’s side, the Woidas, had made the initial journey. Several years ago, Becky and I located the Ellis Island records for my grandparents’ entry into America. Noteworthy is that they arrived with their first child, my Aunt Susie, who was only months old. My wonderful and kind Aunt Susie died in 2013. Her life had spanned a complete century.

When I think about the commitment my grandparents made to this epic journey, I am amazed. I don’t know that I could have done what they did. Everyone coming here knew that they would never return to their birth homes. And the journey across the Atlantic was no fun; they rode in steerage. They settled in southwestern Pennsylvania, ironically, near the town of Berlin (which is where yours truly attended first through seventh grade).

My grandparents were farmers and lived hard lives. And it wasn’t like they arrived in Pennsylvania, bought a farm, and began farming. Initially, their land was covered by forest; fields had to be deforested. Because the farm by itself couldn’t support his family, Grandpa worked various outside jobs, including coal mining. (He learned from dynamiting coal seams that he could use the explosive for removing tree stumps.) Importantly, my grandparents’ farm still remains in the family, owned by grandson Gus Kern and his wife, Linda.

As I understand it, Grandpa worked mines during the day and his fields at night (using his miner’s hat lantern). I’ve been told more than once that Grandma worked with him at night, looking occasionally back toward the house. A light in the window signaled that a baby needed nursing. These were tough people, folks. The depression hit my grandparents like everyone else, and they had to work even harder. One positive was that, by living on a farm, no one starved.

So what does this have to do with Costco blueberries? Because of our vast agricultural delivery system, Becky and I enjoy them practically year-round. To me, these blueberries are symbolic of the many blessings I have, and have had, in my life. Every time I buy them, I feel guilty. If only I could send some of the advantages that I have today back in time, back to the days when my grandparents were struggling and working so hard.

Interesting addendum: I knew my grandfather well and always remember him as being bald. Turns out, I discovered, he got the flu during the worldwide 1918-1920 influenza pandemic, lost his hair, and it never grew back.

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This post was written by paulmarktag