Week 16 – I was thinking today that this year (and this month) are flying by! While it’s been relatively mild in my part of New York State, it’s also nice to see trees and flowers starting to bud. Warmer weather is starting to creep into the cold and summer will be here soon.

This week’s topic is “Should be a Movie”. I had a couple of thoughts about this topic, and finally decided on my great-grandfather, Albert Pelz. I wrote about him first in week 2, My Favorite Picture.  As some necessary background to these stories (or maybe a disclaimer?), I did not spend a lot of time with my dad’s family growing up, so I did not hear these stories from my grandma or my dad. As an adult and through my genealogy journey, I have learned more about them through my dad’s cousin.

Born in what originally was Austria, Albert was a Polish immigrant along with his two brothers, Anton, and Valerian. They were part of the migration to western Canada as part of the Dominion Land Grants between 1870 and 1930.

The land granted to the three Pelz brothers is in a section, listed on the map, as Peace Hills, a nod to the Peace Hills Mountains that are close to Camrose, Bittern Lake and Hay Lakes. Life in western Canada was not easy. It’s brutally cold in the winter and I can only imagine life seemed like what I watched on “Little House on the Prairie” when I was a child.

According to my dad’s cousin, Albert did not like the cold weather. His older brother, Valerian, froze to death in 1902 at age 36. My grandfather chose to immigrate again around 1920, this time to Western New York, thinking it was warmer here. Elba, where they ended up due to the rich farmland, is right in the middle of what is affectionately known as the snowbelt between Rochester and Buffalo. Albert, so the story goes, wanted to move farther south. This idea was vetoed by my great-grandmother. A fervent Roman Catholic, she threatened divorce if they moved one more time.

My other favorite story, which did come from my dad and grandmother, concerns a cow. As mentioned, my great-grandmother was a devoted Catholic. The community wanted to bring in a priest and approached Albert for a cow to help pay for his salary. Albert made what was an easy choice for him – he decided to leave the church and keep his cow. This is why he is buried in a Protestant cemetery and my great-grandmother in a Catholic cemetery.

I picture these two stories so vividly, much like the sitcoms of the seventies and eighties, complete with a laugh track. I picture the family that first winter in 1920. I picture the conversation about the cow, Albert continuing with his work, never turning around and never missing a beat when saying “No, I’ll leave the church”.  Makes me think I should write the script, film it, and post it!  Maybe I will. Until next week – have a good one and keep writing your own family stories down.