Spring in Riga

We're finally getting some warmer temp's and most of all--sunshine.  So with that said, I ventured out to find usual signs of spring.  It's a bit early yet for spring bulbs. A few greens poking  up to find sun, bit flowers a month to go. But plenty of people out walking and bicycles, too. There are s few intrepid cyclists out all winter, undeterred by the sloppy road conditions. 

My apartment building is getting a facelift, too. Not sure exactly what the results will be, but judging from the noise and smells, it's more than just a power wash. It took the crew almost a week to put up the scaffolding. Not a job for the height phobics. 

     The Riga canal--enjoyed by all

 Honor guard at the Freedom Monument

    Skyline from the bridge--castle on left--  Dom Carhedral fat one in center-- St Peters tall one to right. 

 Living in a bubble

My Family Tree

Several people expressed interest in knowing where my ancestors lived in Latvia.  So I put together a skeleton family tree going back to great grandparents and locating their place of origin.  It's no accident that those families originating in the same region would end up marrying.  The most puzzling union is between the Sweeders and Stauers  They independently migrated to Vecmilgravijs, north of Riga, in order to meet.  It's still unclear what caused them to migrate when they did.  Most likely it was work related.  If at the time the estates were being partitioned and land sold off, a family was unable to purchase land, moving to the city where work was available was an option.  In both cases, the Stauers and Sweeders became business owners.  That part of Riga was heavily industrialized due to its location on the waterfront. 

Our Immigration Story

In light of all the controversy over immigration prior to  and  since the US Presidential election, I thought I'd write a piece about my own family's immigration story.

I  am reminded by my sister Karina that March 3 was the 67th anniversary of my parents emigration to the US.  I'm also aware that if my parents had remained in Latvia, most likely none of us would have been born because they met in the DP camp in Germany. 

How many of us wouldn't be here today if our ancestors hadn't immigrated?

Back in 1944-45 when WWII was heating up and it looked like Stalin was going to reinvade the Baltics, many Latvians fled  rather than face deportation to the gulags of Siberia or certain death.  My parents and their families were part of this exodus of Latvian refugees who left the country by any means possible. Germany was the logical place to flee to, since many German military and civilians were also leaving the country by transport vessels under the cover of protection.  People wanted to get as far away from the encroaching Red Army as possible, even to Nazi Germany.

The war ended soon after and then the challenge of dealing with the millions of refugees ensued. The original plan for those displaced as a result of World War II was to repatriate them to their countries of origin as quickly as possible.  During the processing of refugees, they were categorized in a number of ways to determine if they should be repatriated or not.  Many lied to avoid repatriation to countries now under the Stalinist regime.  In the meantime the Allies set up DP camps and provided food, shelter, and medical treatment to those in need.

Once it became obvious that repatriation plans left a large number of DPs who needed new homes, it took time for countries to commit to accepting refugees. Existing refugee quotas were completely inadequate and it was not clear whether the remaining DPs would ever find a home.  The United States was late to accept displaced persons, which led to considerable activism for a change in policy.

Truman signed the first Displaced Persons Act on June 25, 1948. It allowed 200,000 displaced persons to enter the country within the next two years. They exceeded the quota by extending the act for another two years.  From 1949 to 1952, about half the 900,000 immigrants that entered the United States were displaced persons.^[7] In order to qualify for American visas, only those that were in internment camps by the end of 1945 were eligible. The displaced persons that were trying to come to America had to have a sponsor and a place to live before their arrival, a guarantee that they would not displace American workers and, even more preferable, was that they had a relative that was an American citizen.

My parents spent five years in a DP camp in Hanau, Germany near Frankfort.  On the positive side, it's where they met, fell in love, got married and birthed my sister Karina. Finally, in 1950, they were granted emigration to the US, had a sponsor family in Nebraska and set sail on February 18,1950  from Bremerhaven  on USNS General A. W. Greeley.

My sister Karina, Irene and  Olgerts Stauers