My Changing World

by Norm Solomon

          Because my parents were older than most, our combined experience spans more than a century, and there have been many changes in that time.  The most dramatic changes have been in transportation and communication, changing the world into what Marshall McLuhan called “a global village.”

          For example, when my father emigrated from Syria, he traveled by boat and train across a continent and an ocean in three weeks.  By contrast, when I returned to Syria a little over a century later — by jet transport from Portland to San Francisco, Paris and Damascus — I did so in less than two days!

          My mother’s parents traveled by covered wagon from Logan, Utah, to their homestead in McCammon, Idaho, south of Pocatello.  A few years later, my mother had a distinct recollection of seeing her first automobile.

          History and economics are the foundation of my academic training; so, I have a feel for history in general and economic development in particular.  I was impressed to learn that when the Columbia River Highway was built in 1907, there were only 13 miles of paved roadway in Oregon outside of Portland.

          I had heard an old-timer speak of his family moving from Coos Bay to Salem during the Great Depression, with gravel road all the way to Eugene.  So, when Uncle Wilson told me of the family’s move from Idaho to Oregon in the 1920s, I chimed in that it was gravel road all the way to The Dalles.

          “No,” he corrected, “there was no gravel.  It was dirt road!”

          The biggest change in ground transportation in my lifetime was the construction of the National Defense Highway System, begun by President Eisenhower in 1954.  As a young Army major in the 1920s, Eisenhower had led a convoy of various military vehicles from Washington, DC, to San Francisco.  The point of this experiment was to see how rapidly troops and equipment could be deployed from coast to coast and to observe obstacles encountered.

The simplest problem to solve was inconsistent road numbering.  The convoy would get lost because road numbers would change when crossing a state border or sometimes even a county line.  The immediate remedy was to declare and number a U.S. highway whenever state roads crossed more than one state.  Thus, U.S. Highway 30, which used to have a dozen different numbers, runs from Atlantic City, New Jersey, to Astoria, Oregon.

President Eisenhower’s vision was to someday get massive troop movements from coast to coast in three days.  So, his dream was realized a quarter-century later in what has come to be known as the Interstate Highway System.  Two of my childhood memories are of vacations to Yellowstone Park and to California, with the first leg of each journey ending within Oregon.  Since then, I have driven from Bakersfield, California, in one day and frequently travel to Utah in one day.

Jet aircraft first made their appearance toward the end of World War II, about the time I was born.  As a teenager, I went with my Explorer Post to see one of the first civilian jet transports at Portland International Airport.  In 1963 I flew to Paris on a Church mission, and a few of the older missionaries coming home had come to Paris by propeller-driven plane.

When I was a child, long-distance calls always seemed to carry bad news.  They were so expensive that they were typically only resorted to in time of urgency.  With the advent of satellite transmission and direct-distance dialing in the 1960s, long-distance rates began to fall.  At about this time, a friend of mine called from Paris to Portland, with a cost of $135 for 25 minutes.  (When we account for inflation, that call would have cost more than $500 in today’s money!)  Another friend had an operator hang up on him when he tried to call Los Angeles from a small city in Belgium.  Today, such calls are commonplace, no longer involving the intervention of an operator, and incur only a fraction of the cost.

Medical science has made enormous strides in my lifetime, with polio, smallpox and tuberculosis largely wiped out in modern industrial countries.  I still recall the long lines to get the Salk vaccine against polio when it first became available, too late for three of my friends — Pam, Richard and Bob.  Today, medical researchers are grappling with newly emerging illnesses, most notably HIV/AIDS and mesothelioma.  Of course, traditional challenges remain:  Cancer, various strains of flu, and the common cold.

A change that emerged in my early childhood was suburbanization, made possible by the advent of the second family car.  When I was born, Portland had only three suburbs of any size — Vancouver, Hillsboro and Oregon City — and they pretty well functioned as their own cities.  In the earliest days of my childhood, I recall the time that Mom and I got stuck in the mud in Beaverton.  You cannot do that anymore, since Beaverton has been largely paved over!  My high school chemistry teacher had a farm out in Tigard; I don’t think you would find any of those anymore either.  Gresham, which had only about 1,000 inhabitants when I was born, has since become one of Oregon’s largest cities.

Our family was one of the last on our block to get a television set.  A couple years before, our family had gone down to the grand opening of Portland’s first television channel — KPTV, UHF channel 27.  Mom thought it would be a great idea if Jay and I put on a song and dance to get “discovered.”  But the crowds were big, and we were ignored.  After that, I would occasionally see television at a friend’s house, but acquisition was a low priority in the Solomon household at the time.

After hearing TeleKing ads on the radio, I finally called the company and told them our family wanted a television set.  The operator asked to speak to my mother.  Mom acquiesced to my initiative, and a salesman called with a bulky, heavy device that cost $400 and would get only one channel.  But when the TV was turned on, the show playing that Monday evening was “I Love Lucy,” featuring Mom’s favorite comedienne, and she was enthralled.

We had heard about KOIN Channel 6, Portland’s first VHF channel, but did not know how to get it on our set.  Finally, my tech-savvy sister LaVerne flipped a switch in back to VHF and turned the dial to 6 in front, and viola!   When I left for my mission to France, Portland had five television stations, and folks in Paris were all gaga over deuxième chaine, their second channel.  Today, both cities have hundreds of channels from which to choose.  And I found large satellite dishes adorning the humblest homes in my father’s village in Syria.

There have been a multitude of other changes introduced in my lifetime, but I am barely aware of them and take most for granted:  Automatic transmission, video recording, front-wheel drive, remote controls of all kinds, power steering, high-speed dental drills, cell phones, anti-lock brakes, microwave ovens, automatic dishwashers, convection ovens, Teflon coating, electric can-openers, hand-held calculators, automatic light switches and door openers, ad nauseum.

What have been the biggest changes in my life?  Prices, obviously.  While I was in graduate school studying economics during our greatest bound of peacetime inflation, one of my colleagues made the classic comment:  “I remember when only old folks remembered when prices were low!”  Real estate prices have been especially rampant.  My mother, who once bought a pair of homes for $800 each, never dreamed that her little boy would grow up to live in a quarter-million-dollar home!

Learning My Family Name

by Norm Solomon

          I belong to what must be the world’s smallest minority:  Arabs with a Jewish surname.  I am one of the first generation of Solomons to be so blessed.  How I attained that status and how I learned of its origin is my purpose in writing today.

          My father and his siblings emigrated from Syria to America early in the 20^th century, coming one or two at a time over the course of ten years.  (My father was 60 years old when I was born, which provides context for what I am telling you, but which is a story for another day.)

          Uncle George came first.  The first leg of the journey was by boat from one of the eastern Mediterranean ports to Marseilles.  From there he traveled by train to the port city of leHavre, on the coast of northern France.  As he boarded the ship at leHavre, those responsible for the ship manifest engaged him in a conversation that went something like the following:

          “What is your name?”

          “Jurjis.”

          “That’s Arabic for ‘George’; so, in America, your name will be George.  What is your last name?”

          That question made no sense within Uncle George’s culture, since there is no such thing among Arabs as a personal last name.  Had the question been one of family name, the result of the inquiry would have been different.  Instead, the rest of the conversation continued as follows:

          “I only have one name.”

          “Well, everyone in America has a first and last name.  So, what is your father’s name?”

          “Sleimaan.”

          ‘That’s Arabic for ‘Solomon’; so, from now on, your name will be George Solomon.”

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          When I retired a century after George and my father and the rest of the family arrived in America, my preoccupation became family history research.  My daughter and I, with the help of others, had traced my mother’s ancestry on most lines 10 generations or more back to England, Switzerland, France and Germany.

          My father’s genealogy, however, was quite another matter.  First of all, records available on this side of the Atlantic were quite sparse.  The only information we had was an oral history interview I had conducted with my father on a Sunday afternoon as a youth.  During the course of that interview, I learned my grandparents’ given names, and those of my great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather.

          My grandmother’s family name was Hweibi and her sister had married into the Atiyeh family of the Younes clan.  (Her sister’s grandson later became Oregon’s Governor Victor Atiyeh — 1979-1987).

          Armed with that little information, I prepared for a genealogical research excursion to my father’s village.  My preparation included courses in Arabic language and Middle East Studies at Portland State University.   And for the first time I became affiliated with Portland’s Syrian-Lebanese-American Club.

          While preparing an ethnography for my Middle East Anthropology class, I interviewed three immigrants from my father’s village.  They had visited my home several times when they first arrived in Portland; so, it was a renewal of a relationship only dimly remembered.  Khalil Azar and his brother Aziz assisted as interpreters for their mother, the focus of my interview.  She spoke very little English, and my second-year Arabic was not good enough for a meaningful interview.  So, I learned much about the culture of my father’s village from all three.

          The interesting thing about the Syrian-Lebanese-American Club is that the name is far more expansive than the reality.  The preponderance of club members, indeed of Portland’s Syrian-Lebanese community, have their roots in my father’s village, Amar el-Hosn.  The largest Syrian community in the United States is located in Allentown, Pennsylvania, and members there are less pretentious.  They named their club The Amarian Society.

          From our interview, Khalil Azar knew of my intention to visit Amar.  As we gathered for a club meeting several months later, he approached me to ask where I intended to stay while in the village.  I told him that I supposed I would stay in a hotel and asked him whether there was one close by.

He assured me that there was but was surprised to learn that I had not planned to stay with relatives. 

          “You do have relatives in the village, don’t you?”

          “I probably do, but I have no idea who they are,” I replied.

          “Well, let me put you in touch with Selma Barchini.”[1]

          Shortly thereafter, Selma, who was thrilled to learn that she had extended family in the Portland area, invited my wife and me to dinner.  By way of introduction, I took a picture of my father.  As soon as she saw it, she exclaimed, “He looks just like my jiddu!” (Grandfather)

          I got a similar reaction when I arrived in Syria the following spring and was hosted by Selma’s Uncle Saloum.  When I showed him the picture, his response was a similar exclamation, “He looks just like my father!”

          Khalil Azar’s assertion that I should make contact with Selma Barchini was my first clue to my family name.  As an immigrant child visiting our home, I assume that his parents spoke of visiting Khalil Barchini, my father.  The reactions of Selma and Saloum to my father’s picture confirmed my assumption.  More recently, I received additional confirmation from my long-lost cousin Virginia, who told me that as a child she had been told that the family name was Barchini.

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          The origin of that family name is equally intriguing.  The name means “the people from Barsheen.”  My grandmother was from the village of Barsheen, an apple-growing center north of Amar el-Hosn.  My grandfather’s earliest known ancestors, Christian Arabs named Hadeed, originally came from Ramallah in present-day Palestine.  A branch of the family traveled north to Barsheen to avoid the marriage of their sister to a Moslem man.  Generations later, one of the Hadeed men moved to Amar and married a woman in that village.  To distinguish him from the other Hadeeds already living in Amar, he was called Barchini, the man from Barsheen.

          Of the five dimensions of family history research — name, event, date, place and relationship — none is more important than name.  One’s name is both paramount and precious, and I have found my own.

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[1] The name ‘Barchini’ reflects the French transliteration from the Arabic script, probably owing to the League of Nations Mandate over Syria following World War I.  The English transliteration would be ‘Barsheeni.’

William Tweedie Cromar (1839-1916) Missionary & Pioneer

William Tweedie Cromar was born 11 Oct 1839 in Aberdeen, Aberdeenshire, Scotland to Alexander Ramsey Cromar and Isabella Niven.  He was the third and last child of his parents; his older sisters being Jane and Margaret.  Margaret died young, leaving Jane and William to be companions. 

The Howe of Cromar

Aberdeen

William's father was raised in the ancestral home of the Howe of Cromar, a small valley of heather-covered moorland thirty miles inland from Aberdeen along the Dee River, but Alexander moved as a young man to Aberdeen presumably for the opportunities available in Scotland's third largest city.  He was a joiner and cabinet maker.  When William was just 16 months old, his family moved south to Newcastle on Tyne, Northumberland, England.  It was here that William's father died five and a half years later on 5 Nov 1846. Alexander was buried in the All Saints' Church on Pilgrim Street.   William was just seven years old at the time.  

The following summer, on  2 July 1847, his mother remarried.  Jonathan Waller was a musician with the 30th Regiment of Fort Worth North.  Jonathan took his new family to Manchester, England in 1848.  

It was in Manchester that William's family first heard about the Gospel of Jesus Christ from the Missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  William was baptized on 13 Sep 1848 and Confirmed on 14 Sep 1848 by Apostle Orson Pratt and Richard Cook, who was the Mission President.  His mother, Isabella Cromar Waller, was baptized on the same day.  Later the family moved to Louth, Lincolnshire, and then finally to Sheffield, Yorkshire where Jonathan Waller died on 28 Jan 1851.  William's mother was now widowed for the second time.  

Sheffield, Yorkshire

The new family circumstances meant that William had to go to work at the tender age of eleven.  His first job was with a man who was a drunkard, so his mother took him from there and had him work at a Gentleman's house in the village.  His third job was with a watchmaker, and then later he worked for a milliner or hat maker.  The milliner wanted William bound to the master as an apprentice, but William's mother would not allow that, so he was fired.  Finally, he secured a position with a Mr. Rounds at the Electro Plaster and Tudor Works in Sheffield, where he was employed for two years. 

William was ordained a Deacon on 21 Apr 1856.  He was then ordained an Elder on 10 Aug 1856 by Phineas H. Young, W. G. Young, and Peter Robinson.  He was just 16 years of age at the time, but the ordination reflected his steadfastness and maturity in the Gospel.  William was very active in the Church and worked in the Lincolnshire Branch for some time under the direction of President Burrows.  He was soon called to serve a mission in England for four years, and was the companion of Elders Jackson, Burrows, Phineas H. Young, and John Taylor.  He traveled during that time mostly on foot, up to eighteen miles a day, seeking converts.  He was made President of the Hull, Yorkshire Conference on 19 Jun 1859, just a few months shy of his twentieth birthday.  He was noted at the time for being an excellent speaker, stressing to the congregation the Sacrament, the Sabbath, and the principle of Tithing. 

William organized the first Sunday School for children in England, which was held on 17 Feb 1861.  He loved young children and had felt a need for a program that would help them learn the Gospel.  This was one of many positive experiences that he had while working diligently at his calling.  Not all of his experiences were positive, however.  According to one biography, "William witnessed many manifestations while laboring in England. Many times the spirit of the adversary was felt in their meetings. The protesters threw stones at the building, set off fire crackers and did anything to break up the meetings. Once they released a flock of birds to disrupt the meeting and drive out the members but this failed. They threw rocks and broke the windows, piled carts and junk around the house and wired the doors shut where a meeting was being held to discourage the members, but they were not discouraged so easily and through faith and prayer carried on."

It was during this time in Sheffield that he met and fell in love with his future wife, Selina Turner.   She was born in 22 Apr 1839  in Sheffield to George Turner and Hannah Waller.  She was one of five girls.  Although her parents allowed her to be baptized into the Church on 10 Jun 1855, they did not accept the Gospel themselves.  They were particularly concerned about the doctrine of polygamy, which was being practiced by some of the Latter Day Saints at the time.  William promised Selina's parents that he would never take a second wife.  On 15 Apr 1861, William and Selina were married in St. Mary's Church in Sheffield, England.  One week later, on 22 Apr 1861, the young couple sailed for America on the ship "Underwriter".  They came steerage.  William was listed as being 21, a warehouseman at 9 Walker's in Hull.  The cost for the two tickets was over two pounds, a great sum of money at the time.

(William's mother, Isabella Cromar Waller would come later with his sister, Jane.  They sailed on the "Cynssure" along with Jane's future husband Gervis Mansfield and his son, Brigham, arriving in New York on 2 July 1863.)

An account of their journey appeared in the Millennial Star:  

 

The Underwriter

“There are fourteen Conference Presidents who have for a number of years laboured in the ministry in these lands, having gladly availed themselves of the privilege of going to Zion and having sailed on the Underwriter with the blessings of the Presidency, namely: Elders William Moss, John Cook, William T. Cromar, George Teasdale, Joseph Stanford, Willet Harder, E. W. Tullidge and others.

Presidents Lyman, Rich and Cannon visited the ship on Sunday, the 21st, as she lay in the river, and held a meeting giving the Saints their parting blessing and many choice instructions relative to their journey.

The unanimity and good feeling which pervaded the Company, with the joy expressed on the countenances of the people at their long looked for deliverance having arrived, tended to make a fine and intelligent looking Company doubly interesting, and we have no doubt that, under the wise direction of President Milo Andrus, their ocean trip will prove both agreeable and instructive.

May god bless them in their journeying onward to the home of the Saints in the valleys of the mountains.

The Clipper-ship Underwriter cleared on the 22st., and sailed on the evening of the 23rd, from this port for New York having 624 Saints on board, under the Presidency of Elder Milo Andrus, assisted by Elders Homer Duncan and C. W. Penrose as Counselors.”

William and Selina arrived in New York on 22 May 1861, made their way by railway and boat to Winter Quarters, Nebraska on 2 Jun 1861.  There they met up with a company of 200 Church wagons that had brought back men and supplies to help the immigrants reach the Salt Lake Valley.  The group traveled in four companies, walking for eleven weeks and covering some 1200 miles mostly on foot. Selina was expecting their first child at the time of the crossing, making the journey even more difficult.  They finally arrived in the Salt Lake Valley in Sep 1861. 

 Their first home was in Salt Lake City, a small shack-like building located on 4th South between 4th and 5th East.  Later, the moved into Wilford Woodruff's home that was known as the Cottonwoods.  It was into the first home, though, that they welcomed their first child, William Frederick Cromar who was born on 12 Jan 1862.  Emma Selina was born a year later on 10 Dec 1863, followed by Henry Mansfield on 2 Feb 1866.  While they lived in Salt Lake City, William worked first for the Globe Bakers, then as the first freight agent for the Oregon Short Line, and then he worked for Kimball and Lawrence grocers.

In October of 1867, William and his family were called along with 162 other families to serve on the Muddy Mission on the Muddy River, a small tributary Rio Virgin River, which in turn was a tributary of the Colorado River.  (This was located at the corner of Arizona, Nevada, and Utah, south of St. George.)  Their mission was to strengthen the families that were already settled there and to help grow grains and vegetables.  The colony was originally settled with the idea that it would be a good place to grow cotton and semi-tropical plants.  The excessive heat and lack of water was proving to make that goal difficult.  William purchased a wagon and mules from Heber C. Kimball, loaded up his families meager belongings, and took his wife and three small children to their new home in St. Thomas--a two room cabin with a lean-to kitchen and a blanket for a door.  They had a very trying first year.  Indians in that part of the country were harassing the settlers by driving their cattle away and destroying their crops.  William did his best to make friends with the Indians and did  have some success.  In the end, though, they moved to St. Joseph to try to improve their lot.  It was that that their fourth child, Herbert Bayliffe, was born on 25 Jan 1868.  That summer, some of the Elders toured the area and a decision was made under the direction of Brigham Young to terminate the colony.  William was instructed to either return home or resettle elsewhere.  William brought his family back to Salt Lake City in 1869 and settled on a home on Third Ave and H. Street.

It was about this time that William became inactive in the Church.  Only William and Selina know the cause for this, and speculation is useless beyond imaging that it must have been a matter of great importance that troubled him as he had done all that he was asked to do prior to that time.

Walker Bros. Store (inset shows a different angle)

William worked after this time for the Walker Brothers Store as General Manager, and continued to work there for the next 25 years.  He had nineteen men and four boys under his direction.  He was a highly skilled businessman, helping the store reach sales of more than $300,000 dollars one year, a considerable sum at the time.  William's grandson, Wayne Cromar recalls, "I don’t know just exactly when he was first employed by the Walker Brothers Department Store, but I have always heard that he was manager of the men’s clothing department. Walker Brothers was a very large and popular store. Grandpa made the men’s clothing department doubly so because of his good taste and style of apparel for the men who were particular what they wore. Hence, the more wealthy business men of the city came to Grandpa to be fitted out with clothing needs.  Grandpa loved his work and always looked like a “fashion plate” himself. He was a handsome man, about 5 ft. 9 in., his average weight was about 165 lbs. His brown eyes, well trimmed brown hair (gray in his later years) and goatee added to his striking appearance. He was considered one of the smartest dressers of Salt Lake City for his time. As he walked along the street, he attracted much favorable attention with his stripped trousers, frocked coat, and hat in keeping with the style of the times. He completed his regular formal afternoon attire with the walking stick, or cane.

Back Row:  Charles, Henry, Herbert  Front Row: Frank, Emma, William T., Selina, William F., Louisa May Children in the front: Albert, Raymond

During that time, six more children were added to their family.  Charles Francis was born on 20 Apr 1870.  Louisa May arrived on 5 Oct 1872, but passed away at the age of sixteen on 9 Jun 1889.  Frank Atkinson was born on 25 Mar 1875.  Albert Ernest joined the family on 8 Dec 1878.  Laura May was born on 2 Nov 1880, but lived only a few months, dying 6 Jul 1881.  The last child in the family, Raymond Leslie, was born on 3 Jan 1883. 

Some time later, William went into the real estate business with a Mr. Raybould, settling into an office in the Atlas Block.  Eventually, William took over the entire business as sole owner.  He kept that office in the Atlas Block until his death.  He had been given little formal education, but he was noted for his beautiful penmanship and keeping a diary.  He loved music, flowers, and fishing on the Weber River.  After Selina's death in 1908, he lived alone for a year, then sold the home.  He spent winters in California with his daughter, Emma Crosby and summers in Utah with his son Herbert while continuing to take care of his real estate business.

William died at the home of his daughter, Emma Crosby, in Los Angeles, California on 6 Mar 1916 of complications of pneumonia, and was brought back to Salt Lake City to be buried next to his wife on 12 Mar 1916 in the Mount Olivet Cemetery.  Joseph F. Smith, who was in California at the time, said that if he had known of William's death he would have traveled back to Utah to speak at his funeral.   Bishop Clarence Nelson said at his funeral that he had received a check every month from William, and even though it was never noted as such, the bishop felt that it was William's tithing, as paying tithing was one of the principles of the Church that he felt very strongly about.  His grandson, Wayne Cromar, wrote,

"All my life I have heard of Grandpa’s devotion to his religion. As he grew older he was so enthused with the truths of the gospel that he had a great desire to share them with others. Consequently, he filled two missions in England. One when he was called to be President of one of the Branches; and no doubt, one previous when he was a traveling Elder going among the people expounding the truths, no doubt, meeting with much success. However, the Mormon Religion was very unpopular in England at that time. It was only the honest in heart, those who truly had the blood of Israel in their veins, who were baptized.  He was faithful to the Church and always set a good example in the gospel teachings. He and Grandmother were sealed for time and all eternity December 7, 1861, so all their children were born under the covenant. Grandpa was a kind and loving family man; his wife and children adored him.  I’m sure there was a happy reunion on the other side between Grandpa and Grandma and Louise, who died a young lady of 16 years, and Laura, who died as a baby."

Our line:
William Tweedie Cromar m. Salina Turner
Raymond Leslie Cromar m. Ada Adams
Raymond Kenneth Cromar m. Louine Clawson Young
Bruce Young Cromar m. Helga Maria Schneider
Ryan Douglas Cromar m. Heather Solomon