(August 2, '01--reedited and sent to Beth Uyehara)
November 1, 2000
In June of 1990 I joined the Cleveland Jewish Genealogy Society. The time seemed right to pursue a childhood dream: (1) find out what I could about my parents' birth place, a town called Mielnitza, and (2) investigate stories my mother told me about her mother Chana Fleischman Reiter 1851-1939. Were they exaggerations or facts?
Mielnitza, my parents told me, was somewhere in Austria, ruled by a kindly emperor called Franz Joseph. The memories of this town and my mother's childhood were still vivid 28 years after she (Lena Reiter Blitzer) emigrated to Toledo, Ohio in 1913 at the age of 16. I always wondered what was so special about Mielnitza that Lena talked longingly of it many years later. As a naive teenager growing up in the 1940s, I couldn't imagine life better than in America, especially Europe, pre WW I.
Lena talked about her mother Chana with an air of pride that seemed to say "you can't know what my family was then". And mama would tell me that her mother was a graduated midwife who at the age of 65, when she emigrated to the US , traveled to Columbus, Ohio and took an examination to be recertified to practice midwifery-(later in my research I learned this professional term). Lena did not mention where the test took place or the exact year; she just added that Chana practiced about ten more years.
Pictures of my grandmother delivering babies, baking at holiday time and sending my mother on the trolley to deliver baskets of pastries to clients, were rich images to feed my imagination. The idea of a professional woman fascinated me, as I was beginning to think about my future. The thought of a girl, especially a Jewish one, in the 1800s having the opportunity to become educated (Chana graduated from a gymnasium) build a career, contribute to and hold a responsible position in the community, and of course, provide additional income for her family, whet my appetite to know more. I never knew her-- Chana died in Cincinnati, age 89, when I was about 7.
At genealogy meetings I learned the basic steps to gather family data. Both my parents had passed away, and busy with life, I had forgotten to ask them to continue their stories.
With the exception of one elderly cousin who lived in Cincinnati, I knew no one who could fill in stories of our family background. After several attempts to commuunicate with this relative, I accepted the reality.. she wasn't interested in knowing or talking with me.
The only bits of information I had about Chana's past is that she was married twice. Lena told me Chana's first husband had tuberculosis . He and several of their children died from this dread and prevalent disease. Later I learned Chana married again, divorcing after one year (called a " Get"). Her third marriage was to my grandfather Fischel Reiter, 11 years her senior. They had several children but only three grew to adulthood. In all, Chana birthed about ten children.
After several attempts to find family statistics through my father's naturalization, Toledo city directories, etc., (difficult researching long distant from Cleveland-no e-mail at that time), a thought popped into my head. If I could find Chana's application and recertification, it would probably contain important personal history about her. But what resource would house such documents? My older siblings (I'm the sixth of seven children) recalled seeing, a diploma, about 3'x3', hanging on the wall in our house. They thought it might have been from the University of Vienna.
In August of 1990, I decided to write to the Ohio State University archives. The archivist replied that she could find no mention of midwifery classes in the University's records nor did my grandmother's name appear in the school of nursing which was established in 1914. I called the Cleveland American Medical Association and they advised me today's nurse-midwives' examinations are given at the Ohio State Medical Board of Examiners in Columbus.
I called Bowling Green State University Archives, repository for Lucas County records. They told me such records would be with Probate Court, but Probate advised me they were not aware of "any such records".
My notebook shows in the month of September, I began calling various Ohio institutions. With each call I had to explain the word"midwifery". Employees in "Records" were totally unfamiliar with this profession. This, in itself was time consumming and exasperating.
Notes of October 15th record my on-going search. I called the Allen Memorial Medical Library which is on the campus of Case Western Reserve University, Adelbert and Euclid Avenues. It houses an archival medical museum called the Dittrick. The curator, Gwenn Jenkins, suggested I check with the Jewish Hospital in Cincinnati for midwifery information. They in turn suggested the library for the History of Medicine, but again this resource could not help me.
Finally I made an appointment to meet Ms Jenkins October 24th, at 9:30 am. At this point, I just wanted to learn about the history of midwifery, look at any artifacts such as diplomas and applications, or anything related to the profession. To my delight, this wonderful woman spent an entire morning showing me a variety of items, and further-- articles pertaining to the midwifery issue, written in the United States during the years 1919-20.
Midwifery, it turns out, was the catalyst of womens' issues at that time. It was not unlike the Women's Rights Issues of the 1960s. The following, to list a few, are titles of articles written between July-December, 1919, by Florence S. Wright, supervisor of Midwifery, New Jersey State Department of Health:
"Midwives and Our Foreign Born In America"
"Should Midwives Be Supervised By the State?"
"Constructive Supervision of Midwives", the unlicensed versus licensed
"What They All Say About It" how midwives and nurses are beginning to work together
"Another article regarding female midwives versus male
"Midwives versus obstetrician (specialization just beginning)
"Midwives in Austria-Hungary, 1891" (published in Volume II, pp 94 of the British Medical Journals) written by N. Walker, a British surgeon in charge of the midwives. Mr. Walker's condescending manor expressed a loathing bias against the midwifery profession as he discussed the regulation of Austrian midwives in 1800.
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The prize item in the Museum, though, as far as I was concerned, was a small, red, silk Cleveland book, dated 1898. It was probably a woman's personal directory containing names of physicians, surgeons, dentists, nurses, midwives, chiropractors, and maseurs.
The gold-edged pages contain a digest of state laws pertaining to each profession…when and where the exams were given, the state law number, the costs and the laws for revoking such certification etc.. Ohio State midwifery regulation became law in 1896. One page listed "Graduated Midwives" with the names of hospitals and the graduation year; another page showed those who were "Experienced Midwives". For the first time I understood why my mother referred to Chana as Graduated, rather than graduate midwife.
(Insertions -see examples, Figures 1-6)
Soon after this visit to the Museum, I traveled to Toledo for research at the main library. Their holdings included archival records of the Toledo Probate Court and, to my shock, listed was a microfilm of the diplomas granted to persons with the very professions contained in the "red-silk book"! The description of the film listed the diplomas (1898-1945) covering doctors, nurses, dentists and "others". I began reading, but finding no midwifery records, stopped short of continuing to the end.
When I returned to Cleveland, I called Victor Wagher (archivist of Bowling Green State University) about another matter and in speaking to him, mentioned the film. He told me there would be a copy of it in his department too. I asked him to check it. October 25th he called me---Mr. Wagher found her…. Anna Reiter, February 27th, 1917. The exam was given twice a year, January and July. The cost was $5.00, plus $10 paid to the Probate Court. Soon after, I received a 1917 copy of the Toledo Directory which listed Anna Reiter, midwife, on a separate page from her husband's name.
Victor Wagher sent me a copy of the recertification which showed No C---. Other certificates appearing on the film were identified by letter and number. I imagine those were diplomas, not recertifications.
The next year and one- half I called the Ohio State Medical Board practically daily, requesting information as to where midwifery "applications" were stored. I was told they were in in the basement and that some had "pictures" of the midwife. I waited and waited for someone to check the old boxes. Finally, I learned… the applications were thrown out when the Medical Board moved to its current location.
A few years later I visited an elderly relative. She told me she remembered Chana traveling with my aunt to Columbus, taking the exam in German, and being told she had a perfect score. They told my grandmother her medical knowledge was such she could have passed the physician's exam, too, but because she didn't speak English (she could read and write several languages) could never practice in an American hospital.
I gathered more information over the years. When Chana lived with us, my brothers told me she stayed in her bedroom until she was formally dressed (as if going to work). Her wig ("she" made from her own hair. I was told this was a special art form) combed, her watch and broche would be in place. When my oldest brother was about 16 and lit a cigarette, Chana in her 80s said "let me have one, I used to smoke them in Europe". Chana was a strict orthodox Jew, read the bible daily until she died, so where and what was she doing that smoking was acceptable for women?
The most puzzling comment came from Chana, (again in her 80s) when she told my sister who was about 12, "a girl doesn't have to know too much in this world". Was this Chana's way of reflecting the difficulty being a wife, mother, professional and immigrant?
To complete the picture, I hired a professional genealogist to search the Warsaw, Poland archives for my mother's birth certificiate. It was never found , but the genealogist uncovered over 700 family documents going back to the 1700s. It turns out most of the Jewish community in Mielnitza was related to my families. This is what my mother missed…the warmth and love of a huge, extended family. This is what made her childhood remembrances standout during those bleak years of the Great Depression and WW II. By then most of her family had either moved away or died and probably for the first time she felt truly alone.
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