By Howard M. Wedgle
Nicholas II was the Czar of Russia, at a time in the early part of the 20th century of great upheaval, both in Europe and across the Asian continent. This was not lost on the Jews who lived under his rule. Jews had a difficult time under the reign of the Czar, who, while not openly hostile to Russian Jews, also bore no good will towards them. Cossacks routinely stormed villages all through Mother Russia, while in the larger cities, other methods were used to keep the Jews ‘in their place’. It was in this environment that my maternal grandfather and grandmother lived in a small town known as Tiraspol.
When the Czar’s decree came down that all men from Tiraspol, (some 2 1/2 hours northwest of Odessa), were required to join the Czar’s Army, my grandfather knew it was time to do something drastic. He didn’t wish to go into the Army, as he knew how Jews were treated there. Having recently married Rose, my grandmother in June of 1912, my grandfather, barely 21 years of age and already a dad, around February 1914, decided that he and his brother-in-law, my grandmother’s sisters’ husband, would leave– and go to the United States of America.
It was really more like an escape. And it was not anywhere near an easy thing to do. In 1914, you needed a sponsoring party in America that would vouch for you, assuring the American authorities that you had a place to live and a job, proving you would not end up as a ward of the city and a public burden.
They booked passage on a ship called the SS Avoca, a ship that was later in the decade renamed the SS Uranium. The Uranium met with a tragic end, sunk by a German sub in 1918. But the Avoca made it’s crossing the Atlantic voyage seamlessly and docked in New York harrbor successfully. They were processed through Ellis Island on or about March 1914, at which time my grandfather’s last name was changed to Tucker.
Living in New York had its advantages, one of which was the access they had to an enormous amount of information. One day, not too long after he arrived, an opportunity presented itself to my grandfather. Whether someone told him about this or he was shown a newspaper ad or article is not too clear– what was crystal clear was the United States Government was deeding land to immigrants out west. There was only one stipulation— that you had to become a cirtizen of the the U.S. This appealed to both Samuel Becker, who had been a butcher in Russia, and my Grandfather. They saw an opportunity to make a living out west being kosher butchers— and it just so happened Torrington, Wyoming was looking for such a person. They packed their bags, said their goodbyes and headed west, soon to be joined by their wives once funds became available.
Look for part 2-Life in Torrington, WY
Howard Wedgle, publisher of ColoradoGrandparent.com and A New Outlook is honored to write about his grandfather, Louis Tucker, z”l.