Family History: A 150-Year Journey Through the Sokolovitz / Berman story
When we first embarked on tracing our family roots, the stories of our ancestors felt like fragments of a forgotten puzzle. But through countless hours of research, dusty archives, lively emails, and heart-warming conversations with relatives (old and new), we’ve pieced together a rich narrative stretching back nearly 150 years—a tale of resilience, migration, and the enduring ties of family.
Cups of Tea, Smoked Salmon, and Newfound Cousins
Genealogy isn’t just about dates and documents—it’s about connection. Over steaming mugs of tea, plates of bagels, and smoked salmon (oy the smoked salmon), we’ve laughed and swapped stories with relatives we never knew existed. A distant cousin’s attic revealed a faded photo of Rachael Chaia; a great-aunt’s diary mentioned Jacob’s tailor shop in a bustling immigrant neighbourhood. Each clue has been a gift, stitching together lives once separated by time and distance.
The Sokolovitz-Katz Union: A New Chapter
Elias Sokolovitz and Esther Katz likely married in the late 19th century, possibly in Eastern Europe (Russia? Lithuania? Poland?). The Katz surname (often abbreviated from Katzenellenbogen or meaning “priest” in Hebrew) is steeped in Ashkenazi Jewish history, with many notable rabbinical lineages. Could our Katz ancestors tie into one of these lines? Time to scour marriage records, immigration manifests, and synagogue archives!
One pivotal figure in our lineage is Simon Berman, my great-great-grandfather. Records suggest he had at least three siblings:
Rachel Berman
Jacob Berman
Marks Berman
The variations in their surname—Sokolove, Sakolove, Soklovitz, Saklovitz—hint at the challenges of tracking ancestors across borders and languages. As many Jewish families immigrated to new lands, names often evolved phonetically or were anglicized, leaving a trail of clues (and occasional confusion!) for future generations.
The variations in their surname—Sokolove, Sakolove, Soklovitz, Saklovitz—hint at the challenges of tracking ancestors across borders and languages. As many Jewish families immigrated to new lands, names often evolved phonetically or were anglicized, leaving a trail of clues (and occasional confusion!) for future generations.
From Sokolovitz to Berman: A Family’s Journey from Belarus to London and Beyond
In the quiet town of Ivanyets, Minsk, Belarus, our story begins with Simon Sokolovitz—born into a world of upheaval, resilience, and hope. His parents, Elias Sokolovitz and Esther Katz, raised their children under the shadow of 1890s Eastern Europe, a time marked by persecution, pogroms, poverty, and the rumble of trains that would carry countless families to new beginnings. (You can read how he became Berman here)
Roots in Ivanyets: The Sokolovitz Name
The family name Sokolovitz (later anglicized to Berman in the UK and Sokolove/Sakolove in the U.S.) echoes through the cobblestone streets of their ancestral home. Around 1887, Simon married Katie Berman—though the exact location of their wedding remains a mystery. Was it in the rolling hills of Belarus or amid the foggy bustle of London? What we know for certain: their first child, Alec, was born in London in 1887, anchoring the family’s new life in England.
Escape & Exodus: Fleeing Persecution
Why did they leave? The 1890s in Belarus were a crucible of violence. Pogroms targeted Jewish communities, while newly built railways offered both danger and deliverance. For Elias, Esther, and their children, the choice was clear: survival. Simon, his brothers Marks (Mordechai), and sister Rachel Chaia (later Kreitzer) forged paths to London between 1891–1893, clutching little more than their name and heritage.
Yet not everyone left. Jacob Sokolovitz, Simon’s brother, stayed behind—likely to care for aging relatives—while others, like Rachel Chaia, pressed onward. By 1893, she sailed to America with her husband Jacob Kreitzer and children Harry and Katie (both born in London), planting roots in a land where their name morphed into Sokolove.
In London: Simon, Marks, and Rachel Chaia rebuilt their lives, trading Yiddish for English and shtetl markets for East End workshops.
- In America: Rachel’s family thrived, while Jacob (the brother who stayed in Belarus) later sent his own children to the U.S. for safety—a bittersweet act of love during an era of chaos.
- Those Who Stayed: Jacob’s daughter Elkie remained in Belarus, marrying and raising three children. Her fate, like so many who stayed, is a haunting silence in our story.
Memories Light the Way
What brings these fragments to life? Family memories. A cousin’s recollection of Rachel Chaia’s steely resolve. An aunt’s faded photo of Elias and Esther, their eyes weary but hopeful. Each clue—a name on a ship manifest, a scribbled address—has been a thread in the tapestry we’ve woven together.
If you’ve inherited letters, photos, or even rumors about the Berman, Sokolovitz, or related lines (Sakolove, Soklovitz), we’d love to hear from you! Together, let’s ensure these names—and the lives they represent—are never lost to time.
After all, family isn’t just who we come from. It’s who we become when we remember them.
Share your stories. Ask your elders.
Let’s keep the salmon (and the saga) flowing!
A Call to the Family
If you’ve inherited letters, photos, or even rumors about the Berman, Sokolovitz, or related lines (Sakolove, Soklovitz), we’d love to hear from you! Together, let’s ensure these names—and the lives they represent—are never lost to time.
After all, family isn’t just who we come from. It’s who we become when we remember them.
Share your stories. Ask your elders.
Let’s keep the salmon (and the saga) flowing!