Many of the documents contained in the case files of the Boston Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS) are petitions for loved ones to immigrate to the United States; petitions for children, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, siblings, and other family members. If the researcher is lucky, the file contains affidavits and personal letters on behalf of the prospective immigrant, thus further telling the person’s story and bringing the file to life.

Recently I found the document below, which I had not seen in any other immigration visa petition files: a transcript of an interview. On October 3, 1930, Marion Kirschbaum married Abraham Kelman, who was studying in the United States on a temporary stay visa. In January of 1931 Abraham returned to Cuba, where he had lived before entering the US. Shortly thereafter, Marion petitioned for his return. The transcript of the two interviews offers insight into an interesting story of immigration history.

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When I first opened the Hebrew immigrant Aid Society (HIAS) file on Frances Kastrovitzky I immediately knew that it contained a unique and impressive story. The very first page was a Declaration of Intention filed October 26, 1948, and unlike any of the other files I had gone through, it had a small photo of a beautiful young woman attached. After pausing to think about the meaning behind a matter-of-factly filled out form stating, “visible distinctive marks: tattoo on left arm,” Frances’ story unfolded.

Born in Romania on January 27, 1922, Frances was taken to Auschwitz in 1944. After being liberated in 1945, she then worked for the US Army.  Knowing that the Romanian refugee quota to immigrate to the United States was approximately a ten year wait and fearing further persecution in her home country, Frances obtained the birth certificate of a German woman whom she knew to be deceased and applied for immigration within the German quota under the assumed name, Ilse Franziska Nassauer.  She entered the US on November 29, 1947 on the S.S. Ernie Pyle.

On November 26, 1950 Frances (as Isle Nassauer) married a U.S. citizen, David Kastrovitzky.  Shortly after the birth of her second daughter in 1955, Frances’s interaction with HIAS began. She wanted to gain citizenship status under her real name and wasn’t sure how to go about it, especially considering the way in which she entered the country.  Her file eventually ended up with Specialized Services at the HIAS national offices.  The Boston HIAS executive secretary and the Specialized Services case consultant corresponded multiple times regarding Frances’s case.  They feared that her misrepresentation could lead to a deportation hearing, so they waited for the decision in a similar case, which would set a legal precedent for future immigration appeals.

In almost all of the files in the Boston HIAS collection, the papers and notes contained therein are in reverse chronological order. Therefore, the archivist has to read the case from end to beginning, usually knowing the outcome of a request and working back to its origin.  Such was the case for Frances Kastrovitzky’s file, with one major exception. There is no documentation of a resolution for her citizenship status. Did she get deported or become a citizen?  A quick search of ancestry.com led to the answer: a copy of Frances Kastrovitzky’s naturalization record dated May 12, 1958.

Sarah Amtower, archival volunteer, earned a BA in History from the George Washington University, Washington, DC.

To understand the historical significance of the HIAS collection, it is first important to understand the organization’s role in Boston and around the world since its inception in 1881. The Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society served primarily as a legal aid to international Jews seeking to get to the United States or who had recently arrived. A closer examination of the individual case files reveals the magnitude of humanitarian work the society did for many thousands of Jewish immigrants. The breadth of their work went far beyond assisting immigrants with legal matters and often involved giving them financial and material aid. They processed thousands of letters and various pieces of correspondence every day in an age when it might take several months to get a reply. They dealt with many people calling on their office on Tremont Street on a daily basis and also sent workers to Boston’s immigration office and docks to help the newly arriving immigrants. They did all this and still found time to give careful and kind attention to each case which crossed their desks. I recently discovered a file for a man named Martin Hopfner which is a great example of their benevolent work.

Martin Hopfner arrived in the port of Boston on December 17th, 1940 on the U.S.S. Industria as a stowaway. This fact was discovered by immigration officials who quickly detained Mr. Hopfner and held him for trial. On that same day the Boston HIAS office received an anonymous phone call informing them of the plight of Mr. Hopfner and claiming that he was of Jewish descent. Martin Hopfner was a German subject who had been living in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Immigration officials did not believe him to be Jewish; rather they feared him to be a fifth columnist, intent on infiltrating and undermining U.S. society. Despite these fears, HIAS executive secretary, Mrs. Helen Alpert, sent a package of clothes and needed items to Mr. Hopfner, who was detained in East Boston.

At the end of December the immigration hearing for Mr. Hopfner concluded and he was sent to a jail in Danbury, Connecticut to await deportation. On January 10th, 1941 Martin wrote to Mrs. Alpert thanking her for the kind letter she had recently sent him. He goes on to say: “I am much obliged to you for the way you are treating me, and I will never forget it, as I was in very poor shape before you so kindly took care of my need. In regard to my shoes the size are nine and I sure need a pair at the present time…..I would be very much pleased if it would not be asking too much of you, if you could send me some smokes.” Once again Martin got his shoes and smokes courtesy of Mrs. Alpert and HIAS. He wrote them again on January 19th, 1941: “Thank you for the shoes and your interest in my behalf thus far….My treatment here is the best possible and my only anxiety is that I be permitted to remain in this country and become a citizen and help my folks back home.”

The final document in Mr. Hopfner’s file dated April 14th, 1941 says that Martin would be released from the Danbury Reformatory on April 20th and then possibly sent to Ellis Island for deportation. Some research I did into Mr. Hopfner’s life indicates that he may have been able to stay in the United States and even may have enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1943. If anyone has any information regarding Martin Hopfner I would be very interested in talking with them.

Until next time.

Benjamin Owen is a student at Northeastern University, earning his degree in History. He has interned with AJHS since June 2011.

Below are letters from Martin Hopfner’s file. To read a letter, just select the image.

Our archival interns and volunteers have been finding interesting stories in the HIAS collection, and from time to time we’ll post some of these tales online. Check back often to see what they have discovered!

Judi Garner, Managing Archivist

The Story of Martin Hopfner

The Story of Frances Kastrovitzky

The Story of Marion and Abraham Kelman

Las Vegas, Fashion Show Hallway

Jewish Community Center

Moakley Courthouse, Boston

Hebrew College, Newton, Massachusetts

Additional Photographs on Picasa