My immigration story is rather intricate and complicated, as my grandparents on both sides where born in the United States. Growing up, I considered myself almost fully American, with no ties to other countries. In one sense I knew my ethnicity was from several different countries in Europe, yet I was not raised learning a second language other than English, or even celebrating certain traditions or holidays that would be associated with those countries. Instead, my immigration story starts about a century ago, when numerous changes where happening in other countries.
It starts with my great-grandparents on my mother’s side. My great-grandfather William Oldhafer grew up in Germany, and when he was seventeen went to fight in World War I. My great-grandmother Andrea Oldhafer worked at a bakery and was a nanny for Jewish children. After World War I, Germany was facing inflation and a horrible economic recession. My grandma’s father said it took about one thousand marks to buy a loaf of bread. This was the main reason my great-grandfather and great-grandmother decided to leave Germany. However, there was another reason William Oldhafer wanted to leave, and this was a result of Hitler’s rising power. My great-grandfather did not want to fight in another war, and he especially did not want to for Hitler. Thus, he left before he would get involved with World War II. Unfortunately, my great-great uncle was not able to get away before World War II.
My great-grandparents did not know each other before leaving Germany, but actually met on the boat over to America, (I always thought this was very romantic.) They came through Ellis Island, but it was not a pleasant experience. My great-grandmother remembers being treated very harshly and even remembers having to be stripped searched for lice. Once they arrived in America, they bought an apartment in Brooklyn, and my great-grandfather became a printer for a newspaper. After they earned enough money, they bought a home, and made it into a boarding house. Andrea Oldhafer’s job was to take care of the house, and the many people who lived in it. There they had my grandmother, and her older brother. Eventually they moved to Glendale, Queens, and remained there. While they had a difficult experience coming to America, the life they formed was much better than the poverty- stricken Germany they had come from. They were able to build their lives up, and to have enough money to raise a family.
My other great-great -grandparents immigrated from a different country, although there is some controversy over what the actual country was. My great-great-grandfather whose last name was Hostoski, was most likely Lithuanian, and was trying to evade the Cossack’s Army, which was a strong militarist group in Southern Russia. My grandfather’s father, was born in the United States, and married my grandfather’s mother who was of German descent, as her last name was Meyn. Then they had my grandfather, along with four other children. They struggled financially for a long time, and I remember my grandfather saying it was very difficult while growing up. After my grandparents got married, they lived in Glendale, Queens. There they had my mother and her sister.
Investigating my father’s ancestry was even more complicated than my mother’s. Looking into the background, it was hard to be exactly certain of what happened. Nevertheless,I know that my Dad’s great-great grandfather on his mother’s side came from Ireland, probably because of the Irish Potato Famine. My great-great-grandmother had been in America for a long time, but might have been of German descent. My grandmother grew up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and later on met my grandfather in Massachusetts. My father’s great-grandparents on his father’s side came from Austria, and their last name was Waldner, which meant “man of the woods”. On Ellis Island they changed their last name from Waldner to Wallner, which is my last name. Afterwards, they settled in Greenfield, Massachusetts. My grandfather Frank Wallner grew up in Greenfield, and married my grandmother. They had my father and four other children.
My parents both met in college and got married right after they graduated. They lived in the Glendale, Queens, and then bought a house in Woodhaven, Queens. Even though my father grew up in Massachusetts, he was attracted to New York because of the many opportunities for work. My father’s first job was a map-salesman, as before the Internet many people used to buy maps. My mother was a biology teacher, and taught until she started having kids. She eventually had me and my four other siblings. In 2005, we moved out to Long Island. So while I live on Long Island now, I consider myself born in the city, with roots from Woodhaven.
While my ancestry ranges from German to Irish, to Austrian to Lithuanian, I do not really associate with any particular culture. I grew up in a completely American household, with no talk of other countries, especially since both sides of my grandparents were born and raised in America. No one in my family spoke a second language, and my parents never visited the countries we descended from. One of the reasons, I believe, is because when my ancestors came over here they wanted to immerse themselves in America. Even more so, my grandmother’s parents (on my mother side), weren’t in America for that long until War World II broke out, and since Germans had a bad stigma at that time, they did not want to advertise that they were Germans.
Sometimes I wish I had a set culture I identified with, I am proud to consider myself an American, who gets to live in a country full of dreams and promise. It amazes me to trace my ancestry and to see all the hard work they put in for me to get to this point. I like to think of my different ancestors as different threads in a tapestry, which together, form something unique and different. Like each thread, each ancestry was important to forming who I am now.
