April 19 - Thursday "The Family Circle is Unbroken"

A few phone calls to the retirement home where our father's long lost cousin, Louis Lazar now resides appeared to insure that we would not be allowed to visit him as we had hoped. A round of phone tag between the desk and his apartment put him off as he tried to understand what was going on. He finally told the desk that he "wasn't much of a greeter," so he didn't want any visitors, and was in fact "flat on his back" this morning and didn't feel well enough to entertain.

It was just the scenario I had feared. Louis is 94 years old and has lived in a retirement community for many years. Our connection to him is tenuous at best. When I had first discovered his existence late last summer I attempted a phone call which he ended by hanging up. I then wrote him and laid out our family lines. He was reluctant to contact me, but he had been persuaded by his housekeeper to make the call. I was floored when weeks after sending the letter I heard him say, "Hello Nancy, this is Louis. But you can call me Bud."

And that is exactly what he said to me once again on my cell phone shortly after we arrived at his retirement home. We had been making headway with the wonderful attendant at the desk and had planned to leave some pictures of the family with her. Louis had been given my phone number and made the decision to call me:

I replied, "Yes, it's me, Bud. Remember me?"

Where are you?

I'm down in the lobby.

Are you here in California?

Yes I'm in the lobby of your building!

You are! Well... I guess you'll have to come up and see me then.

I'd love to. I'm here with my sister. She wants to meet you too.

Your are! Well... I'm not much of a greeter. Why don't I come down and get you.

If you feel like it.

I just have to put on a sweater and I'll come down.

OK see you in a few minutes!

Minutes later, a tall man with spindly legs wearing a red sweater came down the hall and I knew instantly it was our long lost relative, Louis (Bud) Lazar. He is one of two cousins that my father never knew because his father and Louis' father had parted ways in the early 1920's. The reason for this has been one of the mysteries of this research.

Louis (Bud) reminded both Deb and me of my youngest brother Russ. He has the same quick humor and wit. Bud worked in the printing industry all his life and seemed to be very mechanically inclined like our brother. He was very gregarious and funny most of the time. He said that his father, also a Louis, was a real fighter, and would "take you on, if you got in his way." I had articles from his father's time as a boxer in 1906 which improved his memory on that subject.

Unfortunately he couldn't always place the people of his past and didn't seem to want to talk much about his family, but we got to see a few pictures on the wall left by relatives and a Happy Birthday note written by a grandchild. In the end we were satisfied with making the family connection, which was very strong, and leaving the mysteries to simmer for now.

After our goodbyes we met up with our cousin, Dr. Thomas Baer, who unfortunately missed the meeting with Louis owing to the difficulties we had getting it arranged. He took us on a wonderful tour of Stanford University. It's hard to describe seeing for yourself what an accomplished person our cousin has become. And he is not the only exceptional family member in the Lazar line (including the coming generation). I won't go into all the flattering details except to say he has fulfilled the ideal to do something worthwhile with your talents.

After visiting his lab and office we walked the campus which is stunning. A huge cathedral anchors one side of a Spanish style plaza which reminded me of pictures I've seen of the old missions along California's coast. After the walking tour we had a wonderful lunch and got caught up on 50 years of history. Later, after a rest at the hotel, we were back out for another long conversation over dinner with Tom's wife Bobbi and another cousin, Bill Baer who happened to be in the state on business with his firm.

Bill and Tom had some interesting documents on the patents of our grandfather, William T. Lazar, showing that he was still at work developing the paper towel machine for interleaving tissue paper in 1920. (These were new to me and I will have to follow up on them in my work on the paper case.) We showed them a book that was published by the Zellerbach Paper Company referencing the Lazar's paper towel factory and several old pictures of the family. The night went by too quickly, but we had to end our visit. Tom was leaving on business in the morning and Bill had appointments, so that was our last time together. Deb and I were so grateful for the generosity and congeniality of the family we were able to meet with there in Palo Alto. Thanks you guys.

We left the hotel in the morning after a great night's sleep not knowing where we would be staying that night. On the way into San Francisco, our route to the Bancroft Library in Berkeley where some documents were being held for us to view, Deb made a call to an old friend whom she had just uncovered in a dark region of her memory.

Hi Linda, it's Debbie, Debbie Lazar. Do you remember me?

Ummm...

We were great friends. Back in Putney... I mean Brattleboro. Our kids were the same age. I remember we really hit it off back then. Barry my husband and Dan, they were friends too.

Well, I can't quite place you but what's going on?

Oh I'm in California. Driving into San Francisco right now actually, with my sister. We are on a fact-finding tour of the places our great grandfather lived and worked.

I see...

We are going to be in Berkeley today and I remembered you moved there and thought I'd look you up. (Deb continued to explain the mission to the library and our plans for the day.)

So, you're going to the Bancroft? Where are you staying tonight?

We don't have any place lined up yet.

Why don't you come here when you're done. You can stay with us tonight. Let's have dinner together too, Ok?

That's sounds great! We'll see you later then.

After an exchange of information and numbers Deb hung up the phone and we were riding on a cloud. It wasn't that we didn't have a hotel because we could always figure that out, but it was extra nice to be invited to stay with friends, even very old ones that couldn't quite place us, and right near the place where we would be ending the day. Now we could concentrate on the business at hand, reading and copying the contents of a carton of documents from the Zellerbach Paper Company files (SERIES 7.7: NATIONAL PAPER PRODUCTS COMPANY, 1914-1936) labeled "Lazar Case."

April 18 - Wednesday "Into the fog of time"

April 18 - Wednesday

My sister Deb and I both arrived at the San Francisco Airport in good shape, although I had a three hour wait to join with her. After hours of white-out cloud filled windows, both our flights opened up over the Sierra Nevada Mountains where we took pictures- almost identical to each other- and then again over miles of vineyards in the San Joaquin Valley. I remembered seeing all those places on Google Earth; the Texas Diggings and the American River winding through canyons. In those same hairpin turns, gold was uncovered in freshets after the winter snows melted.

In this harsh land our great great-grandfather, Anna Flynn's father, David O'flinn and his brother Henry sought a brighter future. As far as I know, David disappeared into the world of mining never to be seen again. Henry can be found in boarding houses in the region up into 1900. But Anna's father met some terrible fate sometime around 1870, according to the narrative of Isaac L. Mylar, who reported that Anna's mother was raising four children alone in that decade. The census of 1870 bears that out, finding the family of Ann O'flinn: Thomas, Francis, Anna, Mary, and William, without a father in that year.

The afternoon had been sunny in San Francisco, but soon the fog came out from the bay, north of the airport, and began to reach into the sky above me. It was the 106th anniversary of the Great San Francisco Earthquake and the dark floating clouds looked like black-gloved hands. I couldn't resist a photograph of this first fog experience and since I was waiting for Deb's plane to land I went out to the farthest point on the air train to take a self portrait.

By the time Deb arrived I was an old hand at getting around the airport and I took her on her first air-train ride. The fog by now had covered most of the sky and she found the effect to be somewhat haunting.

Reservations for two nights at a four star luxury hotel had been graciously made by cousin Tom in the Redwood area of Palo Alto. We were glad for the short drive from the airport and easy access. When we arrived we encountered the valet who asked if we needed help with the luggage. This was a kind of special treatment we were not accustomed to and we both felt a little out of place. (Deb and I have a kind of telepathy for this kind of situation and we worked out parking the car and unloading our own luggage to save on expenses.)

Once we were settled into our room, which was very nice, we realized we hadn't eaten a decent meal all day. The room service menu had prices that were out of range for us so we dressed up a bit and went down to the bar hoping to find something satisfying at a reasonable price. We shared a grilled Ahi Tuna plate with extra rice and each had a glass of California wine. It was 3AM eastern time and we were punchy. We let the bartenders know which anniversary it was. They didn't guess the Earthquake in three tries, but they knew something was going on about the Golden Gate Bridge - and they were right- 2012 is the 75th anniversary of the opening of the bridge.

The night passed in quiet and comfort. All was well in the morning when we connected with Tom and laid out our plans for the day. However, our work began right away with making an appointment to see a long lost relative of the Lazar family who seemed, to us at least, to have gotten up on the wrong side of 2012.

Dedication

Solomon Lazar family1889

This page is dedicated to the story of several journeys, through time and over continents, some of them very successful, others seeming to withhold their treasure, but all fulfilling some kind of promise.  Like most epics, it begins with an ending. For when my oldest brother, William Thomas Lazar III, passed away at the age of 60 in November of 2010, a kind of obsession griped me, and I felt the need to look back at where the Lazar family story began.

The problem was that I knew precious little about my father's family on his father's side. I knew my great grandfather immigrated from Germany when he was a young boy and settled in San Francisco and that his name was Solomon Lazarus. There was a riddle we all learned about him: He came to the U.S., and dropped the 'u' 's'.  So that is how we became the Lazars. We also knew that our great grandfather was a Jewish man who married an Irish catholic girl. But as it turned out, we never learned more about our ancestors on the Lazar side because not only did our father, William T. Lazar Jr., pass away at the age of 42, but his father also passed away at 42. Even our Grandmother Lala, Aileen Buckley, who married Solomon's first son William, had little information to share concerning her in-laws.

I began my initial research into places and dates using census records and newspaper articles. Then my cousin gave me a collection of letters he'd found, about 70, all written by our great grandfather Solomon, starting with the death of his beloved wife in 1916 and dating to late 1919, just a few months before he passed away at 60 years old. This was an amazing opportunity to peek into the mind of my ancestor, and to learn first hand about the hopes and dreams he had for his family.

As the pieces of the Solomon's life in America began to come together I started dreaming of retracing his steps, which brings me to the present account of our journey to California. My sister and I call this page the "circle of gold" because as it happens, our brother Bill left behind a stash of rainy-day gold jewelry hidden away in a box, and once we were able to open it, our mother offered to bequeath it to us to help pay for our trip. Gold is why many people came to California, and it is fitting that it became the catalyst for our adventure. I'm only sorry that my younger brother Russell, who sadly also passed away at 42, like his father and his father before him; and my older brother, Bill, won't have the chance to share in our discoveries.

On this tour we will encounter a love affair that broke some rules, gold fever that may have broken a father, inventions that rocked the foundations of family, an earthquake that barely disturbed their progress, catastrophic fires, and an indomitable spirit to go forth and prosper.

We also want to take this opportunity to show our deep thanks to our friends and family, and all those we met along the way, who helped us in so many ways on this journey.

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Traveling the route of Solomon Lazar

My sister and I are on a historical research mission, traveling the path of our ancestors. Solomon Lazar lived in California in the 1800's and early 1900's.