The Uberstines in Canton, 1908

See key below.       

Libby Uberstine Feldman
Alice Uberstine Sorkin
Mary Uberstine Stein
Rose Uberstine Daniels
Goldie Uberstine Daniels
Dorothy Uberstine Sless
  7  Emma Uberstine Kane
  8  Minnie Uberstine Henkin
  9  Max Uberstine
10  Louis Uberstine
11  Etta Meltzer Uberstine
12  Harris Uberstine

MaxO-story-7K.jpg (6556 bytes)

Max Uberstine 1894 - 1965

 
Drugstore Max
With three distinguished Maxes in our extended Uberstine family, Max Uberstine of Cleveland has become known as "Drugstore Max."

Cones for grandchildren
Back in the days when a 3-scoop ice cream cone was 7 cents, Max gave free cones to his grandchildren and was generally beloved for his generosity.  He provided jobs for nieces Hannah and Trina, and he dispensed common sense medical advice to his customers.  Max prospered and expanded with two satellite stores.

'a very kind man'
The son of one of Max's employees, who was searching for his own family history, had this to say in an e-mail:

I stumbled across the Cousinsplus Uberstine family web page  ... while searching for my family history. My father grew up in Cleveland in the early 1920s, and his first job was in a drugstore.  The reason I am contacting you is that I am fairly sure he worked for Max Uberstine ('Drugstore Max').

The test
My dad's name was Herman Cohen, but that was changed the day he asked Mr. Uberstine for a job.  You see, my dad was a skinny 10-year-old.  He told me that Mr. Uberstine laughed and said, 'If you can bring up the Coke cans from the basement, you've got a job.' 

Heavy syrup
Coke syrup cans, even today, weigh about 25 lbs each.  A ten- year-old boy weighs maybe 65 lbs?  Anyway, dad brought up the Coke cans, and Mr. Uberstine nick-named him 'Herky,' short for 'Little Hercules.'  It stuck, and until his death in 1978, family and friends called him 'Herky.'  My dad said that your uncle was a very kind man ... 

Editor's note:  For the full version, see our Guestbook



Questions? Query the Sanford Kaplans,
keepers of our Uberstine legacy
in the American heartland. 
SFKaplan1@netzero.net

Bus Ride to Romance


Seymour Kaplan and Marilyn Sless on their wedding day.

By Sanford Kaplan
 
The story of how my folks met, fell in love and married, explains why there aren't that many photos from which to choose.
 
My dad was a Marine, and his tour of duty took place in the Pacific theater.  When he was stationed in Honolulu, serving as a staff sergeant, his furlough came up. On the way back to New York City to visit his parents, he had a layover in Cleveland.  His father had informed him that he had cousins in Cleveland, and had suggested that he  consider extending the layover for a few days so he could meet the family.  Back in those days, kids actually listened to advice like that. 

When dad landed in Cleveland, he phoned his cousins and made arrangements to meet them that evening.  That left him with

some time to kill, so he hopped a bus to tour the downtown area. 

While on the bus, he spotted a beautiful young girl.  He looked at her.  She looked at him.  It was love at first sight.  Unfortunately, she disembarked from the bus after only a few stops.  Oh well, that was that.

But it wasn't.  Later that evening, he knocked on the door of his cousins' family home, and who should answer, but the girl he had seen on the bus that afternoon!  The rest is history. 

It was a whirlwind romance and courtship, and before the end of dad's furlough, they were married.  

Naturally, there was not much notice, so Lois flew in from New York City and hastily made all the wedding arrangements.  There was no time to engage a photographer, so any photos taken were amateur. I do think that the two I sent to you look extremely professional.  Unfortunately, Mom does not remember who took them.
 
As an aside, at the time this transpired, my mom was all of 17 years old and still in her senior year of high school.  Back in those days, when you were married, you were done with high school, whether you were done or not. Dad went down to speak to the principal on mom's
behalf, and assured him that he was returning to overseas duty within days.  He also promised not to create any "embarrassing" situations.  The principal was either sympathetic or perhaps just patriotic, and he bent the rules to let my mom finish her senior year and graduate from high school.
 
Flash in the pan romances do not statistically fare well in the longevity department, but this one lasted for 53 years.  Dad passed away just four days after their 53rd anniversary.  He died in his sleep of complications from emphysema.
 
So there you have it. You now also know why our family tree is so interesting. Mom and Dad were second cousins. 
Editor's note:  The second cousin relationship in the case of Sanford's parents does not involve a Uberstine.  Seymour Kaplan and Marilyn Sless shared a grandparent, one from the Kaplan side and the other, from the Sless side. 

Us Uberstines do have other second cousin relationships, both involving children of Harris's sister, Toby Uberstine Cohen. 


Toby's son, Meyer Cohen (it became Caine) married Lena Uberstine, daughter of Harris's brother, Mayer Uberstine. 

Toby's daughter, Minnie Cohen, married Lou Gelman, a son of Harris's sister, Udasha Uberstine Gelman. 

"My father remembered her from Europe," said their daughter, Shirley Gelman Hausman.  She explained that is why her father didn't go home to Greenwood, Mississippi, after returning from World War I.  Instead, he headed for New York City, and  "looked up" her mother. 

Romantic, yes, but not quite as dramatic as our Ohio love story above. 

Also of interest in the cousinship department is the nomenclature for descendants of the Ohio Uberstine sisters, Rose and Goldie, who married the Daniels brothers, Charles and Oscar.  That made their children double cousins, and their children's children, double cousins once removed.    

Phillip Sless,
husband of Dorothy Uberstine and father of fraternal girl twins, Lois Sless Lavine and
Marilyn Sless Kaplan.

Born in 1886 in Edinburgh, Scotland, Phillip Sless came to America in 1910. 

Some 40 years later, on returning to visit family with his wife, Dorothy, there remained alive only two of his sisters.

Phillip and Dora brought back kilts for the two sons of their daughter Marilyn. Gerald and Sanford, then about 3 and 4 years old, dutifully put them on and posed (below).

Phillip donned his own kilt with full regalia, and bravely assumed the stance of one in the midst of dancing a jig.   

 

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