So I have formulated a precise plan of attack for finally finding her and [...]]]> My most difficult ancestor is my great-grandmother Anna Liepa. The reason for this is because she was born in Rīga, and Rīga is a big place. This means that any record search inevitably takes forever, since there are many records to search.

So I have formulated a precise plan of attack for finally finding her and her family, and, hopefully, getting them out of Rīga to a locale that is much more friendly to research (that is, the country, or a smaller town). Since I’m in Latvia right now, I’ve got all of the archives at my disposal, which should make this easier.

Let’s start with what is known about her:

1. Anna Liepa was born on September 22, 1895 (N.S.), at the time of her birth her birthday was September 10, 1895 (O.S.).
2. Her father’s name was Fricis.
3. She was likely not an only child – my father has mentioned that there are Liepa cousins somewhere in Australia, so they could be descended from her siblings. (If any of you Liepa cousins in Australia are reading this, do leave a comment!)
4. She married Pēteris Eduards Celmiņš on September 17, 1919.
5. My earliest known address for her is Romanova iela (street) 62/64, apartment 4. She left this address on December 16, 1919 to move to Skolas iela 4, apartment 22 with her husband. Romanova iela is now known as Lācplēšu iela.
6. Anna was a bookkeeper, and worked for the cooperative association “Konzums” from November 1, 1912, for at least ten years, possibly longer (my family has a certificate that was presented to her on her ten-year anniversary of being with the company).
7. Her son Juris was born June 8, 1920, and her daughter Skaidrīte on July 7, 1921.
8. Anna and her husband moved around frequently in the years following their marriage, living both in Rīga and Jūrmala, before eventually settling at Mātīšu iela 51/53 in 1934.
9. Her husband Pēteris died in 1943, her son Juris and his new wife Zenta left for the West in 1944.
10. Anna died in Rīga on June 20, 1987.

So, knowing that, let’s see what I’ve got on her father. Unfortunately, nothing concrete. I know that there were several Fricis Liepas living in Rīga at this time from different address books. However, all of them also had a penchant for moving around, since the addresses are different each time.

1903 address book

-Fricis Liepa, Dundagas iela 1.

-Fricis Liepa, Zeļļu iela 6, apartment 21.

1912 address book

-Fricis Liepa, Vidus iela 4, apartment 17.

-Fricis Liepa, Sabiles iela 16.

-Fricis Liepa, Dārtas iela 50. (Dārtas iela is now E. Smilģa iela)

1925 address book

-Fricis Liepa, Matīšu iela 43, apartment 46.

-Fricis Liepa, Talsu iela 9, apartment 57.

I plotted these all out on a map (with the exception of Dundagas iela, which does not appear to exist anymore, and I can’t find an alternate name for it), and found that four of them were concentrated in the same area, in the district of Āgenskalns in “Pārdaugava” (the left bank of the river Daugava, while the Old Town and main “city centre” are on the right bank). Could this make it more likely that three out of the four are actually the same person? Maybe, maybe not.

However, the only birth record I have for an Anna Liepa is from the St Paul’s Lutheran Church, which is in the main city centre, quite distant from the addresses in Āgenskalns. I would need to find an address book closer to her date of birth.

My theory is that the address mentioned above on Romanovas iela was her family’s address at the time she left it. She left that address only a couple of months after getting married, so it would make sense. This address is also close to the St Paul’s church. But this could then mean several things – a) they moved around a lot prior to settling there, since there is no Fricis Liepa at that address in any of the address books; or b) Fricis died not long after Anna’s birth, therefore none of the listings above for a Fricis Liepa are connected to Anna.

So this is all to say: Anna’s origins are a big puzzle. What am I going to do to try and straighten out this puzzle?

1. Try and locate the house books for Romanovas 62/64. Problem here seems to be that the archives only seem to have the book for 1900 – which may be too early. We’ll see. Also I noticed in the index for house books that there is also a Romanova iela 62/66 – which is a bit odd, because it skips 64. Maybe I should go down there and check the building layouts out, and see if there were some changes back and forth, or if 62/66 is a completely separate building from 62/64.
2. Try to find Anna’s employment records. Records do exist for the Konzums company, so maybe they have some personnel files that list her address?
3. I could try looking at the tax rolls for Rīga, and see if I can find her anywhere. Since she started working at Konzums in 1912, which was before independence, there might be a record of her in 1394. fonds – Rīga tax records.
4. Continue to make my way through the All-Russia Census. Since this was taken around the time of her birth, the areas to concentrate on are the ones around St Paul’s Church.
5. Find more address books – the National Library apparently has a number of them, so I can go check those out and see if there are any listing a Fricis Liepa in 1895.

So that’s where I’m going to start, and see where it leads me! Hopefully the house books and Konzums files are detailed enough to get me what I’m looking for, because otherwise the tax lists and All-Russia Census could involve a great deal more legwork. Wish me luck!

On July 4, 1941, numerous synagogues across Latvia were burned to the ground, some of them with people inside. One of the most [...]]]> This post should have been up yesterday, but I was out of town for most of the day and returned with a splitting headache, so I hope you’ll accept the post today instead.

On July 4, 1941, numerous synagogues across Latvia were burned to the ground, some of them with people inside. One of the most prominent of these was the Great Choral Synagogue on Gogol street in Rīga. It was burned with 300 Jews inside. It is at the remains of this synagogue that this memorial can be found.

Memorial stone at ruins of the Great Choral Synagogue, Gogol street, Rīga, Latvia. Photo taken by the author, July 2, 2010.

It is because of the destruction on this day that July 4 is designated as the Day of Remembrance in Latvia for Jewish victims of the Holocaust.

I took more photos of the area, of what is left of the synagogue, and of the monument to the Latvian Righteous Among the Nations nearby, let me know in comments if you would like me to post more.

The total name count is now 800, I added 200 new names including TRĪSTILTIŅŠ and PODNIEKS.

Today I am also launching a new project, the Latvian Farm Project. The goal of this project is to match old farm names to their pre-WW2 parishes, as well as begin a study on [...]]]> The Latvian Surname Project has been updated!

The total name count is now 800, I added 200 new names including TRĪSTILTIŅŠ and PODNIEKS.

Today I am also launching a new project, the Latvian Farm Project. The goal of this project is to match old farm names to their pre-WW2 parishes, as well as begin a study on farm naming practices. Eventually, I hope to tie this in with the Surname Project and the Record Project to create parish profiles and also come up with statistics of how often people may have chosen farm names as surnames. So far farms are listed for the parish of Ainaži.

Be sure to tune in tomorrow for a very special announcement!

Now you get to do the same for the places they lived! [...]]]> So after puzzling through the various alphabets and orthographies, you have been able to establish what your ancestors’ names would have looked like back in the nineteenth and early twentieth century. This is a great first step towards tracking them back through the years.

Now you get to do the same for the places they lived! Sometimes this is easy, sometimes it is not. It will involve juggling not just alphabets and orthographies, but languages as well.

In the various records, the rural places where people lived are most commonly identified with two parts – the estate name, followed by the farm name. Many estate names became modern civil parish names, but smaller estates came under different civil parish jurisdictions in the early twentieth century. Therefore, it is important to identify not only the modern-day civil parish your ancestor is from, but what all of the estates in the area were, since they may not have been from the one that gave the name to the modern civil parish.

Estate names are usually German. In Russian-language records, they may have been given Russian names, but in my experience, the Russian records continue to utilize the German names. Of course, there are exceptions to this rule.

German estate names, compared to the modern Latvian ones, can take various forms. They could be nearly identical – compare Autz and Auce, Rujen and Rūjiena. A further step along, they could be almost identical, as long as there is an understanding of German and Latvian pronunciations, such as Wolmar and Valmiera, Zarnikau and Carnikava.

Then there are translated names, which require some familiarity with both languages – this can be seen most often with names prefaced by “New/Young”, “Old”, “Small”, “Big” – “Jaun” (“Neu”), “Vec” (“Alt”), “Maz” (“Klein”), “Liel” (“Groß”). It may only be this initial suffix which is translated, the rest of the name might be one language or the other. Other place names in this category would be ones such as Lemburg and Mālpils – both mean “clay castle”, but without knowing the translation, it would be difficult to connect them as one and the same.

While names fitting the above three categories are the majority that I have come across, there are some that have no resemblance to one another, either in meaning or in appearance. Without prior knowledge, how would one know that Friedrichstadt and Jaunjelgava are the same place? Or Wenden and Cēsis?

Thankfully, when it comes to finding out what places are now known by what names, resources exist. I find them excellent tools, and I hope that you will as well.

• Wikipedia’s “List of German Exonyms for Places in Latvia” is a great place to start. Most larger places are mentioned here.
• If the Wikipedia article does not have the place you’re looking for, check here next. While many entries are the same, there is some variation.
• If you keep seeing an estate name, but haven’t been able to match it to anything, it could have been a smaller estate. Consult this map. An index is provided, but only references the grid number, which can cover quite a wide area, so it will take some hunting on the map to locate it. The advantage, of course, is that you can compare this map to a modern-day one to get a clearer picture of where precisely the estate was located.

Once you have established the name and location of the estate, the rest should be relatively straightforward. Even though estates typically had German names, individual farms on the estate typically had Latvian ones – and these names most often remained the same upon independence in the early twentieth century, and, in cases where the farms continue to exist, retain the same names today. The main exception to this is again the prefix situation described above – while the main portion of the name might be written in Latvian, the prefixes could be in German or Russian.

Now that you have your estate name and farm name worked out, it is time to place it on a map created after independence. I have an atlas issued in 1940 that belonged to my paternal grandfather that he brought with him to Canada. I also have a CD that I acquired while I was in Latvia at this store that contains detailed topographical maps of Latvia, including farm names. These maps were made between 1920 and 1930, and I have them at the 1:75 000 size. Using these resources, I have been able to precisely identify the farms of all of my known ancestors.

Being able to accurately identify not only what estate someone lived on, but where on the estate they lived, can be vital to determining what church they would have most likely attended, and, consequently, what church records you should be looking at. If their farm was equidistant between two churches, they could have even alternated which one they went to, so records could be found in both. It is worth checking all of the churches in the area if there are numerous possibilities.

Are there any exonym resources you’ve found useful? Share in comments!

For this edition of the Carnival of Central and Eastern European Genealogy, I will be talking about the town of Krustpils, where both of my grandmothers lived for a time. My maternal grandmother [...]]]> [This post was written for the 27th edition of the Carnival of Central and Eastern European Genealogy, hosted by Al's Polish-American Genealogy Research.]

For this edition of the Carnival of Central and Eastern European Genealogy, I will be talking about the town of Krustpils, where both of my grandmothers lived for a time. My maternal grandmother was born there, and lived there throughout her childhood, while my paternal grandmother, Zenta Lūkina, lived there between 1925 and 1934, while her father Augusts was the local justice of the peace.

Krustpils is found on the north shore of the Daugava, at a midway point between Rīga and Daugavpils. The name “Krustpils” translates to “Cross Castle”. It is first mentioned in 1237 as being a place where the Bishop of Rīga built a castle. The name came from the cross formation of the castle.

In the modern day, Krustpils no longer exists as an independent entity – it was amalgamated with Jēkabpils, the larger town on the south shore of the Daugava in 1962. What I find intriguing about Krustpils in this regard is that even though the two towns were across the river from one another, they spent most of history in different administrative regions. During the time of the Russian Empire, Jēkabpils was in the Kurland guberniya, while Krustpils was in the Vitebsk guberniya – the Daugava river was a powerful dividing force.

This becomes quite important when it comes to genealogy, since serfdom was abolished at vastly different times – in Kurland guberniya it was abolished in 1817, while in Vitebsk guberniya only in 1861. This meant surnames were acquired at a later date as well – and took even longer to appear in church records consistently. I have been able to identify my great-grandmother Jūle’s birth record in 1874, but not all records in her year have surnames. The advantage is is that I clearly know where her family got their surname – Jūle’s father Indriķis was a craftsman who made wheels and wagons, and has the surname Štelmahers – from the German “Stellmacher”, meaning “wheelwright”. Occupational surnames are not particularly common in Latvia, so I’ve lucked out here! As I’ve mentioned before, the language of a surname in Latvia has no bearing on the ethnicity of its bearer – ethnic Latvians often had surnames of German or Russian origin.

Krustpils has always been a multiethnic town. It was inhabited by Balts for centuries, and Germans arrived with the Rīga bishop. Russians also settled in Krustpils, as did Jews. In 1935, Krustpils’ population was 53% Latvian, 35% Jewish, 12% other. For those doing Jewish research in Krustpils, Jewish Gen’s ShtetlLinks has a variety of information, including lists of Jewish residents. During the Russo-Turkish War (1877-1878), Turkish prisoners of war were interned in Krustpils, and many remained when the war was over. My grandmother and great-aunt grew up just down the street from the local Russian Orthodox church. Across the river in Jēkabpils – named for Jakob von Kettler, a 17th century duke of Kurland – there is also a very brightly blue-painted Old Believer church. Russian Old Believers and Polish/Ukrainian Greek Catholics fled from Russian territories due to persecution in the 16th and 17th centuries, and many settled in the semi-independent Duchy of Kurland.

In this photograph, note the abovementioned Russian Orthodox church in the background. Note also the numerous Latvian flags – this picture was taken on the first Sunday of December, which is a designated remembrance day. By law, Latvian flags must be displayed on each of the eleven remembrance days, five of which, including this one, also require black ribbons of mourning tied alongside the flag.

Today, the town of Jēkabpils has approximately 29,000 inhabitants. Most refer to the area solely as Jēkabpils, since Jēkabpils was larger, but the train station, as it is on the Krustpils side of the river, is still the Krustpils railway station. There is a small cemetery on the Krustpils side, but it has mostly fallen into ruin, and most burials happen on the Jēkabpils side. My great-grandparents, along with several other members of my extended family, are buried at the Jēkabpils cemetery.

My work in the archives showed me just how [...]]]> Before I went to the Latvian State Historical Archives for the first time, I didn’t pay much attention to farm names. Sure, I knew the name of the farm where one of my grandfathers grew up, but I didn’t attach a significance to it beyond an address.

My work in the archives showed me just how important these names are, and they are now what I look at first when looking at an old record.

So what changed? What did I learn?

Knowing farm names makes looking at a census easier and faster. For rural parishes, census records for 1935 and 1941 are usually arranged alphabetically by farm name. It is a great time saver if you know the name of your ancestor’s farm.

Farm names help distinguish individuals with the same name. I have encountered this in my research in Limbaži parish. I was looking through birth records to locate all of my great-grandmother’s siblings when I discovered there were at least four separate men with her father’s name – Ansis Eglītis. Since I knew the name of the farm my great-grandmother was born on, I could identify who her siblings were. I was also helped by the fact that I knew her mother’s full name – Līze Graumane – and that this was also listed. If only the mother’s first name was listed – as is common, particularly in older records – I would have been in trouble, since there were two Ansis Eglītis’ who were married to women named Līze. But because I knew the farm name, I had an extra confirmation that I had the right person.

Farm names can be connected to surnames. This can, sometimes, be a chicken-or-egg situation, but in most cases, farm names came first. Farm names are often based on physical characteristics of the land, and are therefore duplicated many times over throughout Latvia (and these farm names are, consequently, the roots of the most common surnames). In Vijciems parish, where my Celmiņš ancestors are from, there are three farms in a 20km radius called “Celmiņi”. As far as I’ve traced my ancestors, they lived on a farm called “Stampvēveri”. This farm is almost in the centre of the triangle formed by the three Celmiņi farms. I have a suspicion that my ancestors were originally from one of the Celmiņi farms, and then moved to Stampvēveri. Why are there so many farms called “Celmiņi” in Vijciems parish? The area is known for forestry, so it does not seem odd to me that there would be numerous farms called by the diminutive of “tree stumps”.

Knowing a farm name provides insight into another type of history – house history. I have not utilized rural land books yet, but they do exist. I have utilized their urban equivalents, that list occupants and their vital information. I’m given to understand that rural land books provide more information such as farm equipment, animals owned, etc. Some of this information is also available on the 1935 census forms. Depending on its size, there may also be other families living on the farm. They will also appear on the census forms. Census forms will also indicate who is the owner of the property.

Farm names identify concrete places within parishes, which can be located on maps and visited. If you are planning a research or family history trip to Latvia, having concrete locations connected to your family history to visit will make your visit more meaningful. I have only visited one of my ancestral farms thus far (it is owned by my half-uncle), but there are several more I have yet to visit. Contact the current owners ahead of time so that you can obtain permission ot explore the property. You might even happen upon a distant relative by doing so! If you explain your reasons for wanting to visit, most people will be amenable and helpful.

Farm Name Features

• Farm names almost always end in “i” – this is a plural noun ending.
• If there are farms that were established by family members, the names could indicate connections, for example: “Jauncelmiņi” and “Veccelmiņi” (New Celmiņi and Old Celmiņi, respectively). This is not a guarantee of blood relation, however, since farms can change hands, and several families can live on one farm.
• “Leja” means “valley” and “kalns” means “hill” – these are frequently added to the beginnings of farm names as well. It is possible that these come from related properties, or two properties that used to be one, and so on.

Are there any farm names you are particularly curious about? Trying to place a farm on a map? Let me know and I can try to help!

I have chosen this surname for two reasons – a person with this surname in my family tree is currently giving me trouble, and I happened across the definition of this word in my Latvian etymological dictionary while looking for something else.

The root of the word [...]]]> This edition of Surname Saturday is about the surname Kukurs.

I have chosen this surname for two reasons – a person with this surname in my family tree is currently giving me trouble, and I happened across the definition of this word in my Latvian etymological dictionary while looking for something else.

The root of the word “kukurs” is the verb “kukt”, meaning “to become crooked”. A “kukurs” is a “crooked back” or a “hard lump of earth”. It is likely that this was given as a nickname to someone with a hunched back, and the name later stuck as a surname. I haven’t seen many nicknames-turned-surnames in my work with Latvian names yet, so this was an interesting find.

Now, onto my ancestor – her name was Kristīne Kukurs. She married Jēkabs Šīrs sometime before 1899, and had my great-grandmother Lilija in Mangaļu parish, just north of Rīga. Kristīne and Jēkabs divorced in June of 1923 for reasons unknown. He died several months later, and she died in 1945. She had two brothers living at the time of her death, Andrejs Kukurs and Augusts Blaus. As to why this second brother has a different surname, I do not know yet. It is possible that he was adopted, or that he was from a different marriage than Kristīne and Andrejs.

I know her father’s name was Andrejs as well. Three separate documents tell me that she was born in Limbaži. Two of those documents (the 1935 census and the 1941 census) also tell me that she was born in 1872 (one also mentions the date – November 22). The third (a document where she is signing over ownership of a property to her daughter) does not mention a date of birth.

But she isn’t in the 1872 birth records for Limbaži. Or 1873. Or in the post-October 1872 or 1873 records for any of the parishes surrounding Limbaži. There is a mention of a Karlīne Kukurs born in Umurga parish (just to the east of Limbaži) in that time period, but the name of the father is different, so this could be a cousin. I’m currently looking in the surrounding years for Limbaži, and then I’ll move on to doing the same for the surrounding parishes.

Kukuri is also the name of a hamlet in southern Latvia, southeast of Auce, just a few kilometres from the Lithuanian border. I don’t believe this has any relation to my Kristīne Kukurs, since Limbaži is in the north of the country, but if I still see no sign of her in the Limbaži area, it is another location to consider.

For now, back to the record books! I will also be updating the Record Project and Surname Project this evening. Lots of new names added!

Marija Radziņa was born on November 16, 1856. I am not sure yet where she was born, but she married Pēteris Celmiņš sometime before 1878, when their first child was [...]]]> Today I’m featuring one of the new surnames I’ve discovered in my family tree – Radziņš (feminine form Radziņa, the surname of one of my great-great-grandmothers.

Marija Radziņa was born on November 16, 1856. I am not sure yet where she was born, but she married Pēteris Celmiņš sometime before 1878, when their first child was born. They lived in Stampvēveri, a farm in Vijciems parish in Valka region, in the northeast of Vidzeme province. They had six children that I’m aware of: Voldemārs, Jānis, Emma, Anna, Pēteris (my great-grandfather) and Elza.

This is not a surname I have seen anywhere else in my reading of church books, census records, revision lists or parish family registers, so it is probably a somewhat unusual name. It did not appear in the family register of 1875 for Vijciems parish, so she is probably from a neighbouring parish such as Trikāta.

As to the meaning of the name? “Radziņš” is the diminutive of “Rags”, which means “horn” or “cape”. So it is possible that her ancestors lived on a piece of land jutting out into a body of water, or that they worked with animals such as goats or deer.

Soon I’ll be able to get to work on going through the church records for the area to find out more about her family. However, first I have to arrange all the information I found out while I was in the archives – there is a lot of it!

I was able to view the passports I mentioned in my previous post, belonging to Pēteris Celmiņš and Anna Celmiņa (born Liepa), and confirmed that they are the correct individuals, and thus able to add their information to my family [...]]]> So today was my second day, and first full day, at the Latvian State Historical Archives.

I was able to view the passports I mentioned in my previous post, belonging to Pēteris Celmiņš and Anna Celmiņa (born Liepa), and confirmed that they are the correct individuals, and thus able to add their information to my family tree!

I learned that Pēteris was a clerk/civil servant (Latvian “ierednis”, the dictionary translates it as “clerk, official, employee, civil servant”, not completely sure which one applies in this situation, but I seem to recall a family member mentioning either clerk or civil servant), and Anna was a bookkeeper. In the war (it doesn’t specify which war, but since the passport was issued in 1919, I’d assume World War I and/or the Latvian War for Independence), Pēteris served as a “second line land guard”.

I also discovered that the family didn’t live exclusively in Rīga, as I had originally thought. Anna was born in Rīga, as were her children Juris (my grandfather) and Skaidrīte, but Pēteris was born in Vijciems parish, in the Valka region of northern Latvia. Additionally, the family moved quite a bit between 1919 and 1927 – their passports show them registered at at least ten different addresses during this period (and possibly more, there were some more stamps that looked like address changes, but they were covered in registration seals and therefore unreadable).

By a stroke of luck, most of these places of residence were in the seaside town of Jūrmala, which just happens to be where I’m staying at the moment. Therefore, tomorrow’s activities are clear – it being Saturday, and the archives being closed as a result, means that I’m going to go around town and find these old residences!

I must wonder though – why did a family with two young children, and seemingly stable employment, move so many times in such a short time period? Most of the moves occurred during summer (June-August), but not all – sometimes they would even move twice in one year. They lived on the same street three times, at what were probably neighbouring addresses (3-5-7), but the times of residence on this street were always interspersed with other residences as well. Only the first addresses and last addresses are outside of Jūrmala.

Hopefully, this is a mystery that can be solved!