Having done a lot of genealogy research, one of the absolute best finds is media, such as pictures and film. Basic family history information is obviously important for this kind of endeavor, but these are hardly helpful when it comes to truly knowing our ancestors. Certainly a journal or memoir would be fantastic for this. But pictures and film can be a solid avenue as well, allowing us to understand what being in the presence of an ancestor might have been like.
That is why I was intrigued when my Grandpa Joel A”H told me that he remembered seeing a film of his grandfather Michael Horwitz (my great-great grandfather) dancing. I did not know anything beyond that. What year was this film from? Where might this film be now?
It was likewise encouraging to learn that my Aunt Jane, Joel’s sister, had a tape which supposedly contained film that my great grandfather, Alvin Horwitz, Michael’s son, had converted in the 1980s.
When the tape finally arrived after my aunt sent it over, it was evident that the one who converted the tape mistakenly labeled their customer “Alan Horwitz.” Alvin probably shrugged this innocent mistake off pretty quickly, but so many years later there is meaningful irony, as I am named after Alvin. Not to mention that the tape literally has my name on it, as if destined to fall into my possession over 30 years later.
I slide it into the VCR, and behold! Almost immediately I was looking at very old Horwitz family footage, the first of which I was able to determine was from around 1939, which of course was a very uncertain time, during the onset of World War II. Michael Horwitz can be seen immediately, waving at the camera as he welcomes the family guests who arrived in Tucson, Arizona, where he and his wife Lena had lived.
Michael Horwitz (1879-1953) was one of 10 children. Immigration records indicate that he came to the United States from Lithuania as a child, even before his parents arrived, and originally worked as a cigar maker before he ran a tailor shop. Later, he would have a ranch in Tucson.
When I was born, my parents needed to confirm that my mother is a Levi, as most Horwitzes are, to make sure that I was not to receive a pidyon haben. Grandpa Joel took a picture of Michael Horwitz’s headstone in Tucson, which ended his Hebrew name with “halevi.”
The various family movies range in date from 1938 to the mid-1950s. Watching films like these can feel like time traveling, for they serve as an actual visual — albeit a window — into the past, allowing us to meet historical people and ancestors and giving us a glimpse of their characteristics, behavior, and personality, allowing us to get to know them just a little bit better.
Little did our ancestors know at the time how vintage their outfits and scenery would look. Little did our ancestors know how the footage they took would arguably be more valuable than modern cinematic and educational recreations — after all, we’re talking about the real thing.
Some interesting moments from the earlier home movies include somebody unwisely poking a cactus and someone else waving the camera away. The next section of footage is in color, and after just a few scenes is Michael Horwitz smiling, holding his hips and dancing, with the rest of the family holding hands circling around him.
Such a moment demonstrates the unique attributes of film. An outside observer may deduce from this that he was an entertaining guy, and this is most likely correct, considering that the Horwitz family are known for their sense of humor.
It was the very same scene that my grandfather recalled seeing so many years ago. It was a wonderful find, and I let Grandpa Joel know. Next up was to show it to the extended family. A Zoom meeting was set up shortly thereafter, which essentially served as both a family reunion and an introduction for distant relatives of younger generations. We then showed pictures and screened the films, including that footage.
The “dancing” was only one of the many remarkable treasures found in the home movies. One scene shows a politician in a caravan, waving his hat towards the crowd. As it turns out, we were able to deduce that this politician is likely President Franklin Delano Roosevelt.
In light of the uniqueness of all this footage, I wanted to make sure that everything on the tape was indeed transferred. So, my aunt sent over the original reels of film and my Dad, a modern IT professional, and I got a projector off eBay and learned how to use the cutting-edge 80-year-old technology, winding the delicate reels into their correct places and listening to the machinery buzz as we hoped the film would flicker onto the wall successfully.
With the exception of the beginnings of some of the original films not making the conversion process, as far as we could tell there was nothing that did not appear on the tape. Though what I did find interesting was how some of the footage came out much clearer through the projector than it did on the tape.
As fascinating as they are, home movies are not the only valuable source of peering into the past. A quick internet search can allow us to view old footage available online which can give us a look at candid street life, historical figures, old silent films and talkies, and more.
I remember how fascinating it was for the Jewish community when footage of the Chofetz Chaim was uncovered back in 2015. This rare find was like a family history discovery on a wider scale — for the Jewish people as a whole. Thanks to this resurfacing, we are granted a window into his stride and mannerisms, which offer a glimpse of what it would have been like in the presence of such a renowned rabbi and leader.
The old pictures and films we find most meaningful can inspire us and connect with us, taking us on a journey into the past and allowing us to better appreciate today, and our own place in this broader story.