Remmick-Hubert Web Site - Hubert & Hummel Genealogy; Letters and E-mail
Last Updated: 31 Oct 2005
Hubert Family Letters continued.....
Letters from Kathy Ward
firstname.lastname@example.org dated 1 Feb
& 4 Feb 2002:
I have written to you previously looking for a connection of my grandmother Theresia (Wendling) (Mettler) Hummel to your Hummel's. :-) I know I found a minor connection of someone that is on our tree but now I can't find where I had it written down.
Most recently though I have been in touch with another Hummel relation. I am in touch with the great granddaughter of the Jacob Hummel who married Kati Rosenauer listed on your web site. I am presuming that you are showing the generations by each indentation. (See extraction from web site below)
Jacob Hummel was the father of Michael and also Joseph, Margareta, John, Theresia, Anna, John, Jacob and Nicholas. The great grand daughter visited the Sackelhausen church and has years of birth for all these children.
I am still looking for my connection. Do you have any information on the brothers and sisters of this Jacob Hummel born Jan. 13, 1853? I expect that maybe Theresia Hummel's grandfather might have been a brother.
Let me know if you can help.
GEN 5 Joseph Hummel #1142
9.Conrad Hummel b. 8 Oct 1830
. Konrad Hummel m. Anna Marie Grundler. Issue:
. Jacob Hummel m. Katharina Rosenauer. Issue:
.Michael Hummel m. Anna Mohr. Migr. to USA in 1904 to Chicago, Ill. USA. Issue:
. Michael Hummel. Issue:
.Nancy Hummel and source of this family in a letter dated 28 Dec. 1998
Kathy (Mettler) Ward
[Note: additions to Konrad Hummel and Anna Marie Grundler's family]
Letter from DrewHummel [H-28]
DrewHumm03@msn.com dated 30 Jan
"...my great Grand[a (Fritz Hummel) was also from Sackelhausen. We lived in St. Louis, Missouri..."
Letter from Wolf-Dieter Kuehn
[H-29] ...... dated 1 Sept 2002:
'I'm Wolf-Dieter Kuehn from Germany. Nikolaus Kuehn was an ancestor .... Here deatiled for your genealogy....
This year I traveled with a friend through Hungary by motorbike. We visted also the Banat (Arad, Temeschburg, Lovrin, Alexanderhausen, Billed, Uivar).
Romania is a very poor country. Before WWII the Banat was a prosperous country made by the Germans. Now, it's down. If you wish I can send some photos....."
Letter dated 2 July 2003:Wed, 2 Jul 2003 11:18:44 -0600 From: Wolf-Dieter Kühn <email@example.com>
Sebastians Kuehn's father was Johann Mattias Koehn married with Margarita born as Ertzbruckner. Further families before Johann Mattias Koehn were not found.
Most towns in Germany introduced churchbooks after the 30-years war in the middle of the 17th century. Bigger towns earlier, smaller towns later. So it seems that Johann Mattias Koehn never appeared in a churchbook, because none existed at this time. He was only mentioned at the marriage of his son Sebastian Kuehn with Cunigunde Braun in 30.sept 1732.
Sebastian Kuehn and perhaps also Johann Mattias Koehn were shepherds and travelled through Saarland and Lothringen with (!) their families.
Registration, if it's ever happened, of birth, death or marriage could possible in all towns of this regions.
Also the names changed during this times. Kuehn are written as Koehn, Kinn, Kihn, Kuenn, Koenn or had the nicknames Klesin and Klesen. The reason was that most of them were illiterates and could hardly write their names. Each parson and other officals wrotes the the name in the way they heard. So it should be very difficult to find further families before Johann Mattias Koehn.
Letter from Anthony F. Sergredo
firstname.lastname@example.org [H30] on 2 March
#Magdalena Marschall m. Anthony Sergredo, son of Dominick Segredo and Concetta napels [Napoli].
These are my parents...."
Letter from Ray Kuhn dated 2 July 2003, Raykuhn@adelphia.net,
who was answered Wolf-Dieter Kiehn's e-mail on Banat-L@rootweb.com:
<<Your line is similar to mine. My line is:
Joseph Kuhn b. 1775 Bettingen / Saarland [Germany] m. ___ Issue:
David Howells Search For Peter Hubert and Josefa Auer
My name is David Anthony Howells. I was born originally with the name Anthony Auer in Colchester. My mother was a `local` at Widdington in the late 1940`s, but had originally come from Austria. Her name was Josefa Auer, previously Stanek and might have been known as Josie or Josephine to many of you at that time. Much of what I have learned about her life and her character, I owe to the accurate memories of the more mature inhabitants of Widdington.
I am the Head of Design and Technology in a South Wales Comprehensive School, and I now live at the South Western edge of the Brecon Beacons National Park at Penycae. Madame Patti, the famous opera singer used to live in Craig-Y-Nos castle just one mile north of Penycae. I have lived in the South Wales Valleys since I was collected from Walton- on -the- Naze after both my adopted parents died within three months of each other in 1956, by my uncle Edgar. Edgar and his wife My family had told me very little about my father or mother and my life in Walton -on -the-Naze, but I had their death certificates given to me some years later in my late teens. I had lived in Walton-on-the-Naze for the first six years of my life with what I always had known as my parents Phyllis and Gwilym Howells until they had died in December 1955 and March 1956 respectively .On my mothers` death certificate, it said death by drowning and Open verdict P.M., and I had often wondered what I should do about this information. I waited until 1992 before I did anything, which I have regretted ever since. I had phoned the Coroner in Colchester to ask for the inquest report. This action set off a chain of events that would change my life completely. I needed my full birth certificate, something I never had, and so I sent for a copy. I was then informed that there was no record of my birth at St Catherines House, and that it might be because I had been adopted. This proved to be correct. Some months later, I was given my original birth certificate in the presence of an appointed social worker. `Your name is foreign`, she said. `It`ll be fairly easy to trace ` she added. `It is Austrian or German. Your name is Anthony Auer and she gave me my birth certificate. I later contacted my adopted family in Walton-on-the-Naze and told them the news, and they found names and numbers in the local phone books with names of Auer and Stanek for me. Some time later, I visited Walton, but on the way I came to Widdington , to see where my mother had lived in the late forties. I wanted to see where my mother had stood, walked and worked, laughed and cried... I needed to visit Widdington. I remember it was the 30th of October 1992. It is still clear in my mind. I knew the shape and size of the village because I had bought an O.S. map of the area. I use maps in my sport, motor rallying in Wales, I have competed in many rallies over the years as a navigator, and noticed that the larger houses on the maps stood out loud and clear, Springhill, The Hall, Red House, Swaynes Hall, and Mole Hall, some had moats. It seemed a very different outlook to the one I was used to in the rows of terraced houses in Bargoed in the mining valleys of South Wales, where I lived as a child. I can remember driving towards Widdington, becoming very excited, like a child who is awaiting the moment to open the presents on Christmas Day. A sign!! .Pond Mead...I passed it...I braked and reversed until the sign was in view again. I gazed into the gravelled driveway and at the front entrance for some time. I couldn`t believe it. Did my mother live here ? Did she own it? What did she do to be able to live here? I parked near the Village Green, got out and walked about to catch my breath, and wondered what I was to do next. The village was beautiful, the Green, the thatched roofs and the general layout was so nicely `old world `. I decided to go to Pond Mead and knock the door. I met Grant Geen and explained about my connection with the house and the village. He was very helpful and happily showed me around the house and garden. I walked around wondering what my mother had done there. I was walking where my mother had walked, sliding my hand up the stair rail she had touched, and stepped in her footsteps around the house and garden. The entrance hall at Pond Mead was atmospheric and is still clear in my mind now, and it made me think of all those people who had been greeted there in times gone by, and all those sad goodbyes that would have also taken place, just inside the door and on the doorstep. Grant told me as much as he knew about Pond Mead, the village and some hours later I was at Walton-on-the-Naze still `stinging nicely` from the visit to Widdington. I had arranged to meet several members of the Oxley family at Walton, because many of the family remembered me well as an adopted child that Phyllis and Gwilym paraded proudly about the town. The Oxleys are an important part of the town , they have generations that have been involved in the lifeboat crew at Walton. Henry Britton, my great grandfather [adopted family] was the first coxswain of the first lifeboat in Walton in the late 1800`s. I had several surprises on Sunday the 1st November 1992. The first was an early morning call for a hearty breakfast before going out on the lifeboat, as a guest. The crew were out for a regular practice and also had a burial duty to perform in scattering someone's ashes at sea. There were gale warnings and the sea was rough, and the day was very blustery. The wind raged towards the end of the pier as we boarded the lifeboat. I remember telling the crew that I certainly wouldn`t like to do the launching in the dark on a cold winters night. As we left the pier the sea water splashed and crashed over the roof of the lifeboat, and I wondered what was in store for me, but none of the crew thought anything of the conditions, as far as they were concerned it was a flat sea. We made our way out into deep water and performed the scattering of ashes with a bible reading and flowers placed on the water. The service was very sombre and tastefully performed. Later, back at my cousin, John`s house, I made a phone call that would change my life. I had already listed a set of Auers and Staneks from the phone directory from weeks before. My cousin John Oxley convinced me to phone the numbers and make some sort of contact with what might be blood relatives of mine. I decided to ask, after introducing myself about the origin of the name only, and would react accordingly to the atmosphere of the replying voice. My second call was made to Peter Auer from Stansted. I recall it well, and I always get goosebumps up my arms when I tell people about the call, I`ve got them even now!!
`Hello`, I said, ` I`ve just found out that I am adopted and happen to have the same surname as you`, `I wonder if you could tell me what country the name comes from ?`
`Oh that`s interesting !` he said, `Perhaps we`re related in some way` . `The name is Austrian, possibly German` and he asked me if I knew any more. I told him that my mothers name was Josefa. The phone went quiet, and the silence seemed to go on forever, He said that his mothers name was Josefa also, and asked if I had any more information. `Yes` I said, `She used to work at a big farm house called Pond Mead in Widdington, Near saffron Walden`....the phone goes quiet again, this time for longer! It seemed longer than a lifetime. The unbroken silence echoed down the phone..the silence eventually ended in Peter replying ` My mother worked at Pond Mead, Widdington. I gasped, I tingled. He said `Sounds to me like you are my brother`. We chatted a while, once we both got our breath back, and arranged to meet each other the next day. I couldn`t believe it! I couldn`t believe I could just crash into someone else`s life and Peter seemed to accept it so well. In fact, We had a great deal in common besides our mother. I met Peter the following day, exchanging stories and photographs and filling in gaps in our lives that couldn`t previously have been explained. My mind was a bit of a jumble of unanswered questions, excitement and apprehension as I travelled home to South Wales that evening, getting home at 3.15 a.m. I did get to school later that day, but lessons , pupils and teaching were the last thing on my mind. The next few weeks, I was on a `mission` to collect more information and make more contact with people who knew me and my family, particularly at Walton. I was eagerly awaiting another visit to Essex and Widdington. I made the journey with my wife, and daughter and her husband on the 1st of January 1993. I remember it being foggy and very cold that night as we set off at 3.00a.m., because I wanted to make the most of the day I had in Essex. When we arrived, the car was covered in ice from the freezing fog. I met several family members at Walton that I had met before, and all were intrigued and excited about what I would do next in my quest. I met Jack Frost and his wife Doris who were my next door neighbours for several years, and when my mother had drowned at home in 1955, and Gwilym had died on the back doorstep, Jack said that Gwilym had died of a broken heart, because he was so affected Phyllis`s death. Jack and Doris had told me about the happiness that I had brought Phyllis and Gwilym, when I was brought home as their adopted son on January 20th 1950, but how sad and traumatic it had been for everybody when Phyllis and Gwilym had both died within three months of each other, and then I disappeared to Wales with an Aunt Blodwyn. Again, I was left with many more unanswered questions when I left Walton, and wondered what Widdington might have in store for me when I arrived. I had arranged with Grant Geen to stay at Pond Mead as Bed and Breakfast guests. We were made very welcome by Grant who had been able to supply me with some more information. I walked about the house in a semi daze wondering and trying to imagine allsorts of scenarios of past years in the house. Which room would my mother have slept in? Where did she spend most of her time? Did she use the beautiful garden for leisure moments? What was Josefa`s laughter like? , Was her voice strong German sounding? Did my father work here in those years?, How did they meet? And, where I might have been conceived? Why did she have me adopted ? and , what was their situation at the time? Again I had a sharper sensation about the entrance hall and stairway, as if it knew things, and wanted to speak to me. Pond Mead held a fascination for me. It all happened here or nearby. Grant suggested that I speak to Jeremy Dillon-Robinson and I arranged to meet him the following day. I remember the next morning. The frost was very hard at 6.30, when I was anxiously up, out of bed and out in the village walking about. The entire village had a white covering, and I have some good photographs from that morning, while I was trying to absorb the atmosphere of the village and having some of my questions hopefully answered by the biting air. I met Jeremy later that morning at Priors Hall. We chatted in a small kitchen for some time, I remember his wife being there too, but there was not a great deal that could be recollected about Josefa or the unknown father, except that she had been a good cook, hard working and the apple strudel she cooked was fantastic. Jeremy showed me around Priors Hall and the ancient barn, and we soon left to meet up with my half brother Peter and his family. I reluctantly left and made my way to Peter`s house and thought of the arrangements to meet my mothers sister Anna, who used to run the Coach and Horses Pub at Quendon with her husband known as `Ash`. Anna was a quiet woman, who seemed naturally apprehensive about my somewhat sudden appearance on the scene, and my few searching questions were thinly answered by her. Her answers were of no great significance to, especially my main question, `Did you know who my father was`?, she answered, `Just a prisoner of war`, `I know no more `. We all had tea at Peter`s house and he was able to give me some photographs of our mother and we chatted about our lives, and filled in some of the spaces that had been in our lives. Peter and his family surprisingly had limited information about the family and my fathers identity, and I was soon travelling back home with my usual heap of unanswered questions jumping around my head. Several years passed by and unfortunately I didn`t keep in touch with some of the friends and family as I should have. I had relaxed my search due to work and family commitments, but since more information had unexpectedly arrived late last year in 2001, I thought that I would make an all-out effort to complete the story before the information is forever lost. I bought a computer in October 2001, and this together with many posted letters has enabled me to trace a great deal of information about my past. I joined the Anglo German Family History Society, and they have assisted me in my search methods. Unfortunately, over the years, since 1992, many older inhabitants of both Widdington and Walton-0n -the-Naze have sadly passed away. Many of them would have known Josefa and my father, which is something else I regret !!. It`s always better to pursue your goals eagerly and immediately, rather than `putting it off till another time` However, my spirits were high and enthusiasm effervescing and although I made many, many phone calls , wrote e-mails and letters, people reciprocated with the same enthusiasm to help me. I have received a great deal of information from e-mail and posted letters, much of it, giving relevent and valued information about my family, Widdington and it`s history. The Widdington Chronicles which were sent to me by Mrs Doreen Robson made a monumental difference to my search, understanding of the village and it`s contribution to the inhabitants during those years were very important. I appreciate too, the contributers who gave their time to write the accounts from their early years in the village, and consequently I have been able to make good contacts. The information has taken me along a route that can enables me to state in April 2002, that my father is almost positively named Peter and he worked and stayed at The Wyses with The Holgates. I owe much of the most recent information to Peter Sanders and the Hoy family, John, George and Marie who were able to remember my father with some accuracy, and recall events of the late forties. Peter was friendly with another German called Matthias Holzinger, who both lived in a comfortable shed at the back of Wyses, and his friend Richard Ihms. I have been told that Peter was a handsome man, who was fairly dark skinned and George remembers him visiting the village about 8 years ago, with his family. I have spent a long time searching the family and my father, and I have to thank all those villagers of Widdington for their assistance.
What do I do now? What I really need now, is to find somebody who can either recall either Peter`s surname or knows other people who either worked with him, so that I can access the surname. Perhaps,a friend or work colleague who might have known his name. It is likely that some documentation may still be in existence about the foreign workers in the village from the late forties. I can only hope that somehow the last piece of my personal jigsaw can be found and inserted into the picture, and my other plan is to visit Widdington very soon.
The visit to Essex came at the beginning of the half term holiday May 31 2002. I decided to travel during the early hours of the morning as I usually do. We left Penycae at 5.00 am and made good time to get to the sea shore in Walton-on-the-Naze by 8.30 am. The sun was shining and we had a breakfast at the café on the seafront, overlooking the pier and sea, and then we wandered around the town before settling on the beach. During the next two days we visited a several family members there, and chatted about a variety of things including my story. I did, discover by accident that My Aunt Ethel who died some years ago, never wrapped presents before or on the 15th December. The reason for this was that the day my adopted mother Phyllis died was the 15th at Vicarage Lane in 1955. I had always thought that Phyllis had taken her own life because of the very bad and traumatic year she had in 1955. Ada, her younger sister had been sent home as incurable, and then died at our house at Vicarage Lane. Just before her death, Phyllis`s other sister Edie, had also died after drinking disinfectant and earlier in the year 3 other brothers and sisters had died also. Phyllis was also in the `change of life` and had some medical disorder, whereby her legs would give way on occasions. 1955 , would be a year that many would remember in Walton- on-the -Naze and some would prefer to forget. Ethel, my Aunt at Walton lived nearby in Vicarage Lane and was summoned when my mother was discovered by my adopted father Gwilym on December 15th. Ethel had obviously discovered in the house after Phyllis`s death that every Christmas present that was bought had already been carefully wrapped and tagged, ready for Christmas morning. This resulted in Ethel preferring to avoid the tragic thoughts of 1955 when Phyllis obviously took her own life in her best nightdress in a bath of cold water. As far as I`m concerned, This was the first piece of solid evidence that my adopted mother Phyllis had taken her own life.
The following day of my visit at Walton was beautifully fine and sunny. We anxiously awoke, had breakfast and wandered around the town, visiting some more of the family there. Everybody had a great time during the Golden Jubilee celebrations on the Square in Walton High Street, meeting Peter and Owen Frost who I used to play with as a child in Walton. Monday came quite quickly and we found ourselves in Widdington about 12.30, `gate crashing` another Jubilee Party celebration on the `Green` at Hamel`s Way. I met Doreen Robson there and a few others. We were made very welcome, considering we were strangers. We met George, John and Marie Hoy later on at their house, and chatted over a great deal of memories during two long afternoons. There were discrepancies in the movement of my mother in those years, and what was written down on adoption papers in 1949/50. It seems that Josefa and her sister Anna had arrived before the war. Anna stayed on after getting married to Ashley Smith and ran the Coach and Horses Public House at Quendon and my mother Josefa had to go back to Austria for the war effort.
She was married in Traisen , Austria in 1942, gave birth to her son Peter [my half brother] in 1944 and apparently returned to Widdington by 1947, without her son Peter, preferring to leave him with her husband Franz.She stated that she was divorced on my adoption papers, and brought Peter over here sometime around my birth in 1950.
I had a wonderful time at Widdington during those two days, and returned to Wales thinking even more thoughts and trying to piece together my mothers movements together during those tragic years during the war. I know that many people at Widdington found conflicting irregularities in the story hard to understand, but I have now, an army of researchers and locals helping me to make logical sense of the evidence I now have in my possession.
I received a fair amount of communication during the weeks to follow, but the big break came on the 18th of June when I had an e-mail from Grant Geen suggesting that I contact John Penney who used to run Wyses after the Holgates. The result was a phone call, in which John remembers my father and his name PETER HUBERT, who worked alongside Matthias Holszinger. I had already sent some material to The Holzingers two days before as it was suggested that the family might know something about my story. I didn`t expect the call to corroborate what I had just been told minutes earlier. Matthias had unfortunately died, but his wife was able to recall Peter and stated that his surname was HUBERT also!! .` Unbelievable !!`
So, there I was, with my fathers name Peter Hubert and some more work to do. I have also a few connections who say that they remember him and have some photographs may exist with Peter on them. What a bonus!
Some days later, in fact the 18th July, just, one month to the day from finding my fathers name. I was sent a photograph of a group of people at The International Club from the fifties, with my father included. It`s always nicely surprising to look at the mail inside my door and recognise the Essex postmark. I always know that the information before opening it, will be a major contribution to my searching work. The letter that day was sent by Hermann Richter, who is a contact that I had been given by Sheila Barton, who is a major force in my search. She is always optimistic and hugely motivated about my quest, and I owe a great deal to her for her continuing tenacity and uplifting conversations on the phone.
It was after the Summer vacation and into the school term that I received another letter, this time from Deutsche Dienststelle, Berlin on September 28, 2002. The letter was accompanied by relevant p.o.w. camp information, including dates and embarkment dates to Great Britain in July 1946.The letter was entirely in German, but I noticed it had references to My father, Peter Hubert and some dates and places were also included. I tried to decipher the contents with a dictionary, but only managed the obvious. I eventually phoned friends of mine in London, who had a German student lodger Ruth Erbertz. I asked Ruth to translate it on the phone. The letter had Peters Name and birthdate and birthplace, confirmed he was Romanian. His birthtown was Bentschek, Romania, birthdate 22.11.1919 and there was a reference to a town called Ludwigshafen 3.12.2001. However, in the letter, the date was followed by the word ... verstorben, which means deceased. Ruth was inconsolable on the phone.
She said it means `he is dead` `I`m so sorry` she said. I was `gutted` !
It seemed as though my optimistic search had come to an abrupt end. I had persevered with lots of magnificent help from others over a ten year period, only to find, that I had missed the meeting with my father by a measly 10 months.
I had always prepared myself for the worst, but over the last year I had made so much great progress and I must have convinced myself that negative information was not going to be an option or a possibility. Everybody who had helped me along the way was going to be disappointed. I sat for the remainder of the evening in a speechless state. This was not a normal condition of mine, I tend to be hyper vocal, but the phone call had reduced me to `a mute` for the rest of the night.
The next morning I awoke with a fresh determination to find out what I could from the contents of the letter. I attacked the internet with a fevered pace and checked the towns that were mentioned and adjusted my e- mails and story accordingly. I have since had a new e-mail which has informed me of a Peter Hubert in the Ludwigshafen phone directory. I thought that this is more than likely to be his address. I later phoned Louise and Herman Hugel in Dorsten and told them about the recent news. They were disappointed for me, but Louise had offered to assist me in any other capacity. I asked her to try to investigate the family a little, so that I would be able to learn about any children that Peter might have had. She said she would contact me sometime, when and if she could get any relevant information.
It was half term when I decided to go to Widdington and Bishops Stortford. The purpose was to meet The Hoy Family..George, Marie and John, and also Sheila Barton who has been a main force in my searches. I also wanted to visit my mothers` grave, and call in on Bill and Inge Adomeit at Whittlesford, who had also helped me with my search.
Again, I had a memorable visit to Widdington and the local area, spending the night in Henham. I went to see the adopted family at Walton -on -the-Naze the following day, and the sun shone on us again. It seemed like five minutes later that I found myself stationary on the M25 with four lanes of traffic. 5-6 hours of travelling to get home, on a journey that has taken me 2 hours in the past.
It was on the 6th of November that I had a letter from Louise Hugel that told me that I had two sisters. Unfortunately, one sister had died of cancer, earlier in 2002 and Peter`s wife had taken her own life due to the trauma she had sustained during 2001/02. However, the surviving sister Irene still lives in Ludwigshafen was told of my existence and wanted to meet me. Our communication with each other had been exciting and informative, and was all very hard to comprehend. I found my family!,and the family was really pleased to have me invade their lives.It would appear that my arrival has been placed nicely in Irene`s life. She had been `very low` after the deaths of her mother, father and sister and was pleased that her family has been extended a little in the last few days by my arrival. I was very fortunate that Irene accepted the situation and included me into her family. I had some wonderful conversations with Irene`s daughter, Sigrid, and son-in-law, Stuart during early December. I was fortunate that they both speak English, and we were able to make good exchanges on the telephone. Sigrid and Stuart are both surgeons in local hospitals, and have assisted me in communication with my sister Irene. They were also on the Internet and this has been able to provide good links to Germany, and also helps to confirm the family link, with photos, documentation etc. We have been able to exchange many photos and stories, some of which help to complete the voids that existed in the story , both in Germany and here in Wales. Some photographs have been well received, because they are good quality and show Peter in his younger days, unseen by Irene, until mid December 2002. I also learned about my Grandparents and Great Grandparents, and their lives in Romania, and also have photographs of them from that time. It seems that the family were imprisoned in a concentration camp in the forties by the Russians. It was there that my Grandfather was executed by firing squad. The family returned to Romania some years later, obviously affected adversely by their experiences.
However, the events of December 2002 have been wonderful, and seems as though my personal life jigsaw has been almost completed. I had in my hand the remaining pieces of the jigsaw and they equate to the few spaces I have left in the picture. All I had to do, is, put all the remaining pieces into the empty spaces! A piece of cake !!
We were then invited to go to see the family in Germany, the town of Ludwigshafen is near Heidelberg and Mannheim, and it didn`t take long for me to realise that the phobia I thought I had about air travel had now gone completely. I ordered the passports and booked the flights. We flew out to Frankfurt on the 28th of December 2002 and I could hardly wait. As far as I was concerned Christmas day was now the 28th of December. If there was any reason to shed the fear for flying in an Aeroplane, then, this was it. We were going !! I was certain we would be welcomed there with open arms and I had no doubt about anything regarding our meeting. We had all spoke on the phone and we all agree that all our lives have changed, and that a new life was to begin on the 28th of December 2002, with our new found family.
As the 28th of December approached, I counted the days down in my diary. I had numbered 20 days in reverse order, so that I could see just how many days were left. The last days of term at school seemed to go by easily and the flurry of Christmas gift buying seemed less important than ever. Christmas in Penycae Village happened in it`s normal, uneventful manner, and we spent Christmas Eve at The Tafarn-Y -Garreg ,our local pub. Local people were aware of my story and search, and all were interested in the impending visit to Germany. Christmas morning arrived with the normal excited flurry of torn wrapping paper and construction of gifts that refuse to operate until they are put together correctly. Late morning is traditionally at The Tafarn again with the first drink offered by the landlord. It`s always busy at The Tafarn, with locals dressed in their new clothes and smelling strongly of newly bought perfume, after- shave and shoe leather, and the children bring a favourite gift to play with. Christmas Day passed fairly quickly but was nicely interrupted with a few phone calls from Germany.
The 28th of December arrived and we left our beds later than we had planned, but arrived at Saffron Walden for a quick bit of shopping, before we made our way to meet George and Marie Hoy at Widdington. We stayed there chatting over a cup of tea, before leaving for Sheila Barton`s house. We had a short visit there and loaded our luggage into Sheila`s car and departed for Stansted Airport. We arrived promptly, checked in and within 45 minutes were on our way to Hahn Airport near Frankfurt. I stayed surprisingly calm, considering it was my first flight, but Stansted organisation , Ryanair and Julie helped me digest what was about to happen to me. I had convinced myself that flying would be just like navigating a very fast Rally Car, but I was wrong !It was no time at all and the pilot was announcing that our decent to Hahn was imminent, and that the weather conditions were damp in Germany. It was only 50 minutes flying time, and we were faced with what could only be called typical`Welsh Weather` as we stepped out of the plane onto German soil.
As we queued for the arrivals I could see the awaiting family. My sister Irene, her daughter Sigrid and her husband Stuart and their five year old daughter Kaija. We all waved crazily at each other l, as if we had never met before!! The reality was that we hadn`t met before!! I was filled with excitement and trepidation about the meeting that was about to take place in the next 10-15 minutes. We awaited the collection of bags and cases with massive anxiety and continued waving sessions. We collected the baggage and left quickly to meet everybody. We met near a door entrance of the airport, and hugged and kissed each other, nice warming tears falling from everybody`s face. It was an emotional moment, that I will never forget.
It was soon after, that we were on our way to Ruppertsberg. We travelled on the Autobahn hastily, chatting to each other via a three way conversation. Stuart did all the translation and he worked hard to keep up with the recollection of 50 missing years in our lives. Irene kept stroking my head and shoulder from the back seat of the car and saying, `Mein Bruder`, `Mein Bruder` We chatted for entire journey to Stuart`s house, and it was the same in the other car. We arrived at Stuart and Sigrid`s house and unloaded the cars quickly and settled down for our first meal together. The meal was special and sumptuous, but was not hurried. Each moment and morsel was savoured and digested into mind and body. The wine was superb, and as Stuart is a connoisseur of the grape, living in the midst of the Rhine Valley wine region, we all relaxed and bathed in each others company and tales. We chatted till the early hours of the morning. Even at 2.00 a.m. I was not ready to sleep. It was all too exciting !! I didn`t want to miss one second of my visit by the unconsciousness of sleep. I awoke early in the morning, with the accompaniment of the local church bells, which were in sight of our bedroom window. I was ready for more, much more. Julie and I exchanged our views about our arrival in Germany, and we both agreed that this was definately `Maximum Joy`.
Our welcome between us all was very special, as if it had always known each other, like very good neighbours living just down the street.
Each day with Sigrid, Stuart and Kaija was exceptional. We were entertained well, we ate well but more importantly, our hosts, my family, were magnificent. We spent a great deal of our time talking about my father and his family. My father Peter , had returned to Romania from Britain in 1955 to rejoin his family in Bentschek, but later, in1979 they chose to leave for Germany due to the continuing difficulties in Romania and it`s horrendous dictatorship. I have read a great deal about Romania, since I knew I had connections there, and I often feel disgusted and annoyed about the treatment the people of Romania had to endure over the years, especially since I had a comparatively easy time in Great Britain.
The family all left with only a few suitcases, when my father had just turned 60 years of age. They had to leave their home and nearly all their possessions in Romania, but were pleased to leave and start afresh in Germany. This is something I find hard to understand, and I also find it difficult to accept. Irene and Sigrid told me about the Banat Region of Romania and its customs, music, culture and environmentally friendly way of living. I was amazed.!! The area was predominantly a farming region and survived with it`s own infrastructure and life code and, I can say that I am truly proud of the people who loved the `way of life` there, but they also detested the regime forced upon them by the Ceausescu Dictatorship, which ended with the Dictators` deaths on Christmas Day 1989.
The family came to Ludwigshafen in Germany to settle, and Peter , my father died there in December 2001. The year of 2001 was a difficult year to endure for the Hubert family, and prior to my father`s death, Peter`s wife Eve took her own life, after the death of my other sister Elisabeth.
It seems as though my arrival has lifted the lives of Irene and Peter and also Sigrid and Stuart, and I feel very humbled. They are all pleased I hadn`t given up the search, when there were disappointments and difficulties, during my quest. This is a new beginning for us all, and the many friends and colleagues of ours, who are so pleased to witness the story unfold and conclude.
During our visit, we were taken to many places of interest Mannhiem, Speyer, Deidersheim, Ludwigshafen , Landau and most of all Heidelberg on New Years Day for a concert at the Stadthalle to see the Heidelberg Symphony Orchestra. Later that evening, we dined at a restaurant, where we were treated to the most wonderful meal I have ever eaten in my life.
I feared the days in Germany would pass by quickly and I hoped I would be able to put a slow speed on my life during the visit. I was able to do this, because we made the best of the time we had. Early mornings, our days were filled with interest and evenings were late finishes in the early hours of the morning. I never felt that the days were `running away ` from me. Everybody accepted the full timetable and extending the evening with casual and meaningful conversation, and the understanding of our lives past and present, over a glass of wine was the perfect combination. What was difficult to understand, was that on several occasions during the visit, either Sigrid, Peter or Irene would comment about my mannerisms, pointing out that they were similar to Peter`s.my father. In fact exactly like my father would do. Does this mean that mannerisms are hereditary, even when I have never been in the company of my father? It would seem that they are ! How is it possible that I could replicate a mannerism of my father without ever being in his company?
My understanding of living in Europe after the war has certainly been heightened. Appreciation of my comparatively calm childhood in Essex and then Wales, compared with the turmoil and aftermath of the post war years has certainly made me re-evalute my past. I really owe my existence to the war years. My mother Josefa left her home, husband and son Peter in Austria to come to Britain in 1947, and in 1946 my father Peter was captured in Austria and brought to Britain as a P.O.W. in July of the same year. They fortunately met and fell in love in a foreign country, and I owe my life to them.
There are many `loose ends` to the story, and I intend to unravel them to obtain a clearer picture of their lives ,not as a matter of urgency, because I have found my true family in Germany. My link with the past can be completed. I have photographs of my father, and his family in Bentschek in Romania and I am pleased and fortunate to be connected with such a rich culture. We are already planning our next meeting, perhaps in Wales, but I am sure that we will meet several times during the next twelve months.
I left a snow covered Germany on January 4th.The flight was delayed by an hour to clear the runway and de-ice the wings of the plane. Julie , Josie and I sat on the plane regurgitating our magnificent visit and all that the last six days had thrown at us. We had been bombarded by kindness, affection and warmth by my new family. I know now, that I have a sister, `Mein Schwester Irene` and a brother in law` Mein Schwager Peter, `Mein Nichte Sigrid` and `Mein Neffe Stuart` and beautiful 5 year old Kaija.
To be fair to the entire experience of travelling to Germany, and have the pleasure of meeting family that I never knew existed until early December2002, I can only say that my pathetic jumble of words here do nothing to describe the emotions that myself and Julie have experienced and enjoyed over the last few weeks.
This is just like a fairy story with the obvious happy ending after a set of insurmountable problems to be endured before the prize. I faced the problems, overcome the challenges and the prize is mine!! No!! ..Ours!!
Thanks everybody !!
Widdington and Newport will always be a special place to me, and I will always `keep in touch` with the locals there. I`d like to thank many people in the area, in particular George, Marie and John Hoy, Peter Sanders, Doreen Robson, Grant Geen, Daphne Bridgeman, Alan Calver, Gillian Dillon-Robinson, John Penney, Sheila Barton, Herman Richter, Bill and Inge Adomeit, Hermene Holzinger, Beryl Ihm, Herman and Louise Hugel of Dorsten.
What I have learned during my search is that `Urgency` in matters of this kind must always prevail. Never linger and `put off` tasks until another time. Seize the moment and `go for it`. I have told my pupils at School , that they must accept the urgency for their work and their continued and unrelenting striving for success in exams is paramount, and never `leave things gather dust`. I have told them that my mistake was leaving things unattended for too long and not getting `hungry` for the matter in hand. I think I will regret the years I have wasted in between finding out I was adopted and obtaining the information of Sepember, 28th 2002.
9 Oct 2003 message from: Sherry -
For submitting to your web site. Thank you for your help.
I am searching for the John Bernard Hubert born about 1918 probably around Brooklyn New York. He married Alice Marshall about 1940. They had 3 children,
John Bruce Hubert, Phillip Hubert and Joan Hubert. The children were separated from their parents at a young age and sent to a foster family. Their parents divorced. John Bernard Hubert remarried a woman I believe was named Joan and Alice Marshall remarried a man named Lau. Both had more children. Daughter Joan married a man named Fisher.
Both parents and Phillip are deceased. I wish to locate Joan and the Ancestors of this family. If anyone can help, please contact me. Thank you for your help.
Sherry - email@example.com
25 Oct 2003 from Art Strubel,
<<...and found out that I & Your Husband are 4th or 5th cousins. My Grand-Mother was Anna (Hummel) Furi B: 7 Dec. 1884
Jossef (Anna's Grand-Father) Sept. 1793 was the Brother of Johann 12 Aug 1791. I have additional info on the Hummels plus some spouses names that defer from Yours in the early Years. ...
My Grand-Mother was Cousin of Theresia Weber who You had mentioned...>>
|Note: See Julius Albert Strubel|
Saturday, May 8, 2004 9:28:07 fr Art:
In a message dated 9/18/04 6:20:53 PM, firstname.lastname@example.org writes:
How are You ?
Wanted to give You some info. & corrections.
Jacob Hummel (B: 17 Nov. 1888 ) Died 17 Nov. 1888, Place: Sackelhausen, Romania.
My Grand-Fathers Mothers Name was Katharina Burg, not Burghardt, She was B:28 Apr. 1858-Father Michael FUHRY was B:14 Jan. 1856.
My Fathers Name was Julius Albert Strubel- not Albert Strubel.
You had a ? on my Uncle Michael Fury,s Death it was 27 Dec. 1990.
Have not heard anything from Nickolaus Fuhry lately abt His
forth-coming Sack. Book, Did I tell You He is My 2nd Cousin?
His Daughter & I have been E-Mailing each other.
I had heard from Gert Freisenberg that His Book would not be
comimg out till next Year.
I am going to have an Operation Oct. 15 to have a Tumor removed
in My Inner Ear & an ABI devise implanted.
In times like these arent You glad You Live on the West Coast &
not the East & S. East.
Its raining Here now- a rare occasion.
Letter 8 Jan 2005:
Happy New Year
Can You make a few Corrections & Additions To the Hummel Tree ?
Anna M. Grundler was -B;7 Oct 1833, married to Conrad Hummel.
Peter Furi, Son of Peter & Anna Furi was B:4 Sept. 1908, D:15 Oct. 1908.
Julius Albert Strubel,Husband of Margaret Furi B; 2 May 1916 (not 14 Jan. 1856 ) D;16 Apr. 1995.
Nickolaus Fuhry ( My 2nd Cousin ) is working on the content of the new Sackelhausen Book(s) , no word as to when it will be completed yet.
I had an Operation to remove a Tumor in My right Ear on Oct. 15,
I am working on getting My balance back as much as possible & I am completly Deaf now.
Bye for now, Art
In a message dated 12/11/03 11:22:51 AM, DRK0731
<< Your site indicates that Barbara Hummel married to Knaack had no issue: this is incorrect. Barbara and her husband had two children: Audrey and Robert. I am married to Robert. John Hummel and his wife had no children. >>
dated 29 April 2004
I am not sure if you are interested in this information or not but I have an addition to your site. Under the e-mail for G there is a mention of Lydia who married Herman Messerschmidt. I don't have all of the details but here is what I know.
Lydia and Herman had a son named William Edward Messerschmidt (my grandfather) b. May 22, 1901 in Odessa, WA d. November 28, 2003 in Wenatchee, WA at 102 years old.
I don't know how exactly many times he was married but I know it was at least 2. He had four children. Of the four the last two, William (my father) and Lydia, were both with his last wife Eva.
1. William (deceased)
3. William James
William James still alive in Spokane, WA was married to Susan and has two children.
1. April Lea (me)
2. Rebecca Louise
I am new to genealogy and was so thrilled to find your
site. Thank you for all of the information!!
In a message dated 5/6/04 6:51:56 PM, email@example.com writes:
Hello, my name is Andrea. I live in Argentina and I `m 29 years old. I'm very intersted in my family tree. I know that my grandmother arrived in Buenos Aires - Argentina at 22/02/1930. She lived with a cousine unknown. She was born in Sackelhausen (Sacalaz), Temeswar (Timisoara).
Her father was Jakob Hummel , born arraund 1881-1888, I don't know where, I supuse also in Sacalaz. Hi dies in the World War I, arraund 1913-1914.
Her mother was Anna Maria Messmer, bornd arround 1882-1889, she dies around 1979 in Romanien, may be in Sacalaz.
My grandmother had a sister, Barbara Hummel, born arround 1905-1906, she was married with Mr. Lay, I don´t have more information about this man. They had two girls, Grete, born arround 1924, and Helen, born arround 1927. I want to know if they are alived, if they had any children, and any possible conection with families Hummel Messmer Lay.
Perheaps you can help me find a conection.
I also want to know if possible, where may I find more information about this Place Sackelhausen.
I ` ve found a lot of information about family Hummel in your page, but I didn't
Find any conection with my family. I thing this conection is very possible, then all this people lived in the same place Sacalaz.
Many thanks for your help!
I haven't seen anybody that looks familiar to me. Only perhaps one Hummel Jakob b. 1871 son of Conrad and Anna Marie Grundler, no more data aviable, but the born date didn't fit very well.
I hope that yuo can place my data on your website, and that help me found any connection whit my ancesters.
>From: firstname.lastname@example.org ("Andrea Lentino")
>Subject: Re: Serching a conection whit your Hummel
In a message dated 6/16/04 3:29:31 AM, email@example.com writes:
My name is Lori Green (nee Hummel). I was just browsing the internet and came across your Hummel family tree. I don't know very much about that side of my family, but I can tell you that my grandfather is Hugh Michael Hummel. He was married to Laura Hummel (who died in 2003). They had four children, Chris, Kathy, Hugh jr. (My Father), and Neil Hummel who died in 1991 in a fire. Chris is now Williams, and Kathy is Farabaugh and has a son Greg. Neil has 1 son, Joesph. My father has my sister Tracy and myself. Don't know if there's any connection, but it sure would be neat to find out. Please let me know what you think! :)
Oh please Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org thanks!
From: "Betty Smiddy",
Date: Mon, 20 Sep 2004 19:32:34 -0400
I. John Hubert from Schag married Anna Stoval.
A. Engel Hubert m John Wolf. He served in the German Army in WW II, came to America after thewar and worked in a furniture factory in Midland, Michigan
B. Martin Hubert went to South America
C. George Hubert b July 8, 1886, Schag d July 25, 1935 Cincinnati, Hamilton Co., Ohio m Barbara Kunst, daughter of Nikolaus and Eva Kunst. She was b June 17, 1888 in Sackelhausen, Hungary d Dec. 8, 1965 Cincinnati, Hamilton Co., Ohio. George immigrated July 23, 1903, age 17, from Schag to Cincinnati via Breman to Baltimore aboard the Frankfort. He returned to Hungary and returned April 10, 1911 George Hubert, age 25, from Schag. To Cincinnati via Rotterdam to New York aboard the Rotterdam. Accompanied by wife, Barbara, age 23, both born in Schag. Father, Johann Hubert, lives in Schag. Going to join father-in-law Nikolaus Kunst. Barbara Kunst immigrated Feb. 9, 1904, age 16, aboard the Willehad via Breman to Baltimore. Accompanied by Louis Haas, age 3. Going to join cousin, Paul Haas, father of Louis Haas. She returned to Hungary returning to USA April 18, 1911, Barbara Hubert, age 24, b Sackelhausen, arrived Tues. April 18, 1911 via Bremen to New York aboard the Kronzprinz Wilhelm to Cincinnati. Joing husband George Hubert. Was previously in Cincinnati from 1905-1911. Accompanied by sons Mathias, age 6, and George, 2. George Sr. was a cabinetmaker and worked for Baldwin Pioano Co. in Cincinnati. Issue:
1. Matthew Hubert b Jan. 11, 1906, Cincinnati, OH d March 24, 1968 Cincinnati, OH m Helen
Schmidt, daughter of Bernard Schmitt. b Mar. 2, 1907 d Feb. 15, 1993 Cincinnati, OH.
2. George "Yatz" P. Hubert b Aug. 15, 1909 Cincinnati OH d Sept. 21, 1988 Cincinnati, OH m
Dorothy Cluxton, daughter of Richard and Catherine Cluxton. She was b July 31, 1913 d
May 25, 1999 Cincinnati, OH. George was a plumber.
3. Mary Ellen Hubert, b Feb. 25, 1922, Cincinnati, OH. m Joseph Stoeckel, son of Anthony
and Elizabeth Stoeckel. He was b Oct. 16, 1921 d 1978. He was a postman.
D. John Adam Hubert b July 29, 1892 Schag d Oct. 16, 1961 Cincinnati, Hamilton Co., Ohio m Margaret Barbara Dipong, daughter of Nikolaus Dipong and Christina Hettrich. She was b Aug. 24, 1893 Kathreinfeld, Hungary d May 6, 1975 Cincinnati, OH. m June 14, 1913, St. Augustine Roman Catholic Church, Cincinnati, OH. John was a barber. John immigrated June 5, 1909 from Fiume, Hungary to New York June 25, 1909 aboard the Pannonia via Genoa. Going to join his brother, Georg Hubert. Arrived Cincinnati June 27, 1909. Issue:
1. Barbara Ann Hubert b Mar. 19, 1914 d April 18, 1994 West Chester, Butler Co., OH. m
Sept. 8, 1948 Jess Willard Smiddy, son of James Smiddy and Hattie Lloyd. He was b Apr.
3, 1915 d July 28, 1989.
2. John Martin Hubert b Feb. 17, 1918 d March 26, 1997 Elyria, OH m Jan. 20, 1946 Betty
Jane Sponaugle b Sept. 15, 1926 d April 1997 Elyria, OH.
3. Margaret June Hubert b June 17, 1928 d March 7, 2001 Cincinnati OH.
Betty Ann Smiddy
Letter from Pascal Leval, Levalp, 24 Aug 2005:
We are cousins by the couple Jean DAENTZLER (1657-1736) CATHERINE KUNTZ (1660-1738) X VERS 1682.
Maybe you already know some of my cousins (Didier Ott, Georges Gander)
I would like to have the gedom....
And if you accept I will put your name on the "cousins" page of my website
Thanks in advance.
See:Daentzler Family [Dentzler, Dantzler]
|Would you like to write something about your family. Contact: mailto:email@example.com|
Hummel Home Site