Finding My Great-Aunt Michalina's Immigration Records

A few weeks ago I received an email from Jim Onyschuk, the President of the Toronto Ukrainian Genealogy Group, announcing the January meeting along with a notice of new Canada Passenger Records from 1881 – 1922 now available online at Family Search ( ). 

Always on the look out for my great-aunt Michalina’s records, I hit the link and searched her name as usual, to no avail. I then searched just her last name (proper spelling) and found about 10 hits with different spellings, including one that I knew immediately was her: Michatine Heukan. Her name had been transcribed incorrectly with a scratch on the page changing the ‘l’ to a ‘t’ and the last letter appearing blurry as an ‘e’ not an ‘a’. The last name was mangled due to a peculiar formation of the letter before the ‘k’ which I think was intended to be ‘c’ and the addition of an ‘e’ before the ‘u’.

Michalina Huckan c.1910

Michalina was 17 when she arrived in Saint John, New Brunswick on April 4, 1910 on the SS Lake Michigan. She was listed as single, having $24 and heading to Winnipeg, Manitoba to her brother on her CPR ticket. Her previous occupation as well as her intended occupation was ‘servant’. 

John Huckan c.1910

Now that I had that information, I searched for her again on to find any additional details. I had some difficulty finding her as her name was shown on Ancestry as Michatina Henskan. The only new information was a photo of the ship and the fact that it had departed from Antwerp, Belgium. Finding her on Ancestry allowed me to link this record to her on my family tree. I was also able to correct her name so that future researchers can find her more easily.

When I compared Michalina’s arrival dates with other family members, I made an another interesting discovery. I had previously searched all the boat records for the ship my grandmother ( her sister) arrived on (SS Samland June 4, 1911) , her brother John (SS Montreal April 6, 1908), his wife Frances (SS Corinthian October 30, 1910) and brother Nikolai who made several trips back and forth but it never occurred to me to check my grandfather’s ship: SS Lake Michigan April 4, 1910. She was sent over with her brother-in-law, John Zarecki, my grandfather.

This makes some sense. Michalina’s father was sending John and (later) his wife to Canada. John was literate and spoke several languages. On the other hand, he was being send to Canada because he was mentally unstable (diagnosed manic/depressive later). This makes me think that Michalina’s fiancé was with her on the ship, as well as other people from her village. I may be able to determine her fiancé's name after all. A needle in the haystack but perhaps. 

Michalina’s fiancé – name unknown
from Repuzhintsy c.1910
Another find on the Family Search list of Huckans was her brother Nikolai  Hucan showing when he arrived in Quebec City May 1910 on the Prinz Adalbert and on Ancestry (Nicola Hucan) I found he returned to the U.K. on November 5, 1921 on the SS Minedosa. I had previously found an arrival record for 1913 proving he made several trips to Canada to work before returning to his wife and family in Repuzhintsy.

Nikolai Huckan c.1910
Nikolai Huckan c.1910

Publication in Nasha Doroha Anthology 2012

I am excited to announce publication of two pieces of my writing in the 2012 Nasha Doroha Anthology, a special edition of the quarterly journal of the Ukrainian Catholic Women's League of Canada.

As a tribute to 1,300,000 Ukrainian immigrants to Canada during the past 120 years, the editor, Oksana Bashuk Hepburn, has assembled a collection of over 50 stories and poems, both in English and Ukrainian, in a double edition of their journal under the headings: Departing, Settling, Remembering, Contributing, Returning and Going Forward.

The story about my father appeared on this blog in an earlier version by the same title, 'Thoughts on my Father' and the poem 'Knowing You', about my paternal Baba, was previously published in "Grandmothers' Necklace" in 2010.

Here is a link to the publication: Nasha Doroha An Anthology 2013

Copies of Nasha Doroha Anthology may be obtained for $10.00 each from:

Elizabeth Zahayko
387 Betts Ave.,
Yorkton, SK
S3N 1N3
(306) 783-6282

Copyright © 2012, Ruth Zaryski Jackson

‘Immersion Memoir’ and Returning to My Childhood Home Part 1

As I was reading a recent essay by Suzanne Farrell Smith called “The Inner Identity of Immersion Memoir”, I began thinking about my own trip back to my childhood home on Charles Street in Toronto a few years ago.

My old house was being leased after being occupied by a print shop for the past 25 years. I called up a realtor friend and asked her to show me through the house. Armed with a camera and notebook , I went in search  of childhood memories, hoping the experience would trigger more than I’d been able to access to date. Although only the first floor and the basement were available to us,  I tapped into the architecture in my mind and compared it to what remained that day.

Here are some of my notes from November 18, 2008.

I sucked in my breath as I entered my childhood home on Charles Street. Fifty-eight years since we moved. The main floor and basement were up for lease and a real estate agent friend arranged access for me. The first floor was stripped to the brick wall and studs. The original room divisions were obliterated. My stomach lurched.

I struggled to recognize the house of my childhood. The bones were still there, a few familiar markers. Outside I had climbed the metal stairs and heard a clanging sound instead of the thud of the former wooden steps. The hidey hole was still there under the front porch with its winding cement steps to the basement door. To my left in front of the basement window a cement pad replaced the metal doors of the chute to the coal bin below. The old front door had been replaced with a barred metal commercial entrance. Gone was the old carved glass windowed door with the bell to turn beneath. The transom above also looked different with a decorative metal flower in lieu of bars and the old curtained transom window opening inward probably considered a security risk.

In my mind’s eye the house I grew up in for the first 9 years was huge. The rooms seemed so spacious because of the very high ceilings. The living room faced the street with a large picture window. When I was nearly 4, I remember looking out into a white snowy night waiting for my mother to return with my baby brother. It was February 1945. Jim has just turned 62. Amazing that I can remember that night. There was a fireplace and mantel but it was never used. We had a radio, one of those big ones that stood on the floor. I used to lie in front with my head in the speakers to listen to a children’s program from Buffalo. I think it was called “Through the Garden Gate”. When I was 8, I even won a contest they held. I drew a picture of “The Garden Gate”. My prize was 2 tickets to the movie “The Wizard of Oz”. In the living room a stained glass window of a robin was behind the chesterfield. I used to love looking at it. Years later I saw someone removed it and probably put it in an antique shop. How sad to have it removed from its context. In the corner of the living room stood a big wooden box, low with a lid that opened up like a trunk. I think my Dad made it. I loved having my doll’s tea parties on it. The rest of the room is a blur, a carpet I think, a chair I recall my father reading his paper in. The painting on the wall of the Bow River; Sadie and I used to sit in front of it and make up stories cuddled under a blanket. One day the plaster ceiling came crashing down on my that wooden box. Luckily there were no tea parties in progress at the time.
(from earlier freewriting about my house)

I walk through the glass door from the now tiny front hall and see a brick wall straight ahead with some horizontal planks covering the old fireplace – now a chimney for the high-efficiency gas furnace. My bearings are lost. There are no room dividers and a big pile of debris fills the room. Remnants of one wall between the former kitchen and my parent’s former bedroom (really the dining room) tell me where the walls once were. The staircase is now walled and the once spacious hall is gone given over to the open room. The glass paneled French doors are gone to the living room and between the living room and dining room. We search around and find remnants of old plaster, high carved baseboards and window trim. The very high ceiling appears to be original and bears an old stamped pattern. But my favourite stained glass window with the robin on it is missing, as is the stained glass in the top of the rounded large picture window. I recall sitting on the back of the chesterfield looking at that robin in the stained glass before flipping myself backwards down to the cushions.

To be continued...

Have you ever gone looking for your past in old buildings or landscapes?

Is this the year to write your parent’s memoir?

Here is a post by Jerry Waxler that poses the question about writing your parents' memoir? I wonder if this is a necessary step to writing our own?

Is this the year to write your parent’s memoir?

Copyright © 2012, Ruth Zaryski Jackson