Mrs. Rose Kurgan died early yesterday at the Crouse-Irving hospital, two hours after she was admitted to the Institution. She was 33 years old and the wife of Michael Kurgan of No. 402 Chemung street.
Syracuse Herald
4/30/1916
Rosalie Kotlarz was married to Michael A. Kurgan. Together they had five children: Mary, William, Walter, Sophie and Rosalie.
My Dad always told me about his beautiful mother, and I still wish I had known her. She passed away giving birth to her daughter, also named Rosalie, when my Dad was not yet 6 years old. Dad told me that he and his brother Walter shared a bedroom when they were small, and when their mother was living she used to bring them a pitcher of biały kawa (coffee and milk) to drink when they woke up thirsty in the night. They were tiny boys when their father remarried (he had 5 children, and one was a newborn). One morning their stepmother came up to their room and there was a partial pitcher of coffee and milk, and two used cups nearby. She asked the boys how they got the drink, and they told her "Mama got it for us". Dad vividly remembered his own mother checking on them and bringing them their favorite drink. The pitcher was heavy and impossible for the boys to lift and pour on their own.
Another morning, their stepmother was warming a bottle of milk in a pan of water on the stove for baby Rose. My Dad said they saw the pan lift off the stove and crash to the floor, spilling the milk. Their stepmother bent to clean up the milk and found that it was sour. She always said that was Rose's own mother protecting her baby.
The marker on Rosalie's grave was originally a wooden cross made by her husband (my grandfather) Michael. My Dad remembered taking the cross with his father and walking to the cemetery to place it at his mother's burial site. Years later, my Dad and his sister (I believe he said it was Sophie) purchased a stone for his mother's grave, since the wooden cross of course did not last. That is the stone that remains to this day. When I was younger I went to Sacred Heart Cemetery with my parents for another relative's burial. My Dad had not been there in years, but had no trouble walking directly to the site of his mother's grave.
Syracuse Herald
4/30/1916
Rosalie Kotlarz was married to Michael A. Kurgan. Together they had five children: Mary, William, Walter, Sophie and Rosalie.
My Dad always told me about his beautiful mother, and I still wish I had known her. She passed away giving birth to her daughter, also named Rosalie, when my Dad was not yet 6 years old. Dad told me that he and his brother Walter shared a bedroom when they were small, and when their mother was living she used to bring them a pitcher of biały kawa (coffee and milk) to drink when they woke up thirsty in the night. They were tiny boys when their father remarried (he had 5 children, and one was a newborn). One morning their stepmother came up to their room and there was a partial pitcher of coffee and milk, and two used cups nearby. She asked the boys how they got the drink, and they told her "Mama got it for us". Dad vividly remembered his own mother checking on them and bringing them their favorite drink. The pitcher was heavy and impossible for the boys to lift and pour on their own.
Another morning, their stepmother was warming a bottle of milk in a pan of water on the stove for baby Rose. My Dad said they saw the pan lift off the stove and crash to the floor, spilling the milk. Their stepmother bent to clean up the milk and found that it was sour. She always said that was Rose's own mother protecting her baby.
The marker on Rosalie's grave was originally a wooden cross made by her husband (my grandfather) Michael. My Dad remembered taking the cross with his father and walking to the cemetery to place it at his mother's burial site. Years later, my Dad and his sister (I believe he said it was Sophie) purchased a stone for his mother's grave, since the wooden cross of course did not last. That is the stone that remains to this day. When I was younger I went to Sacred Heart Cemetery with my parents for another relative's burial. My Dad had not been there in years, but had no trouble walking directly to the site of his mother's grave.
Mrs. Rose Kurgan died early yesterday at the Crouse-Irving hospital, two hours after she was admitted to the Institution. She was 33 years old and the wife of Michael Kurgan of No. 402 Chemung street.
Syracuse Herald
4/30/1916
Rosalie Kotlarz was married to Michael A. Kurgan. Together they had five children: Mary, William, Walter, Sophie and Rosalie.
My Dad always told me about his beautiful mother, and I still wish I had known her. She passed away giving birth to her daughter, also named Rosalie, when my Dad was not yet 6 years old. Dad told me that he and his brother Walter shared a bedroom when they were small, and when their mother was living she used to bring them a pitcher of biały kawa (coffee and milk) to drink when they woke up thirsty in the night. They were tiny boys when their father remarried (he had 5 children, and one was a newborn). One morning their stepmother came up to their room and there was a partial pitcher of coffee and milk, and two used cups nearby. She asked the boys how they got the drink, and they told her "Mama got it for us". Dad vividly remembered his own mother checking on them and bringing them their favorite drink. The pitcher was heavy and impossible for the boys to lift and pour on their own.
Another morning, their stepmother was warming a bottle of milk in a pan of water on the stove for baby Rose. My Dad said they saw the pan lift off the stove and crash to the floor, spilling the milk. Their stepmother bent to clean up the milk and found that it was sour. She always said that was Rose's own mother protecting her baby.
The marker on Rosalie's grave was originally a wooden cross made by her husband (my grandfather) Michael. My Dad remembered taking the cross with his father and walking to the cemetery to place it at his mother's burial site. Years later, my Dad and his sister (I believe he said it was Sophie) purchased a stone for his mother's grave, since the wooden cross of course did not last. That is the stone that remains to this day. When I was younger I went to Sacred Heart Cemetery with my parents for another relative's burial. My Dad had not been there in years, but had no trouble walking directly to the site of his mother's grave.
Syracuse Herald
4/30/1916
Rosalie Kotlarz was married to Michael A. Kurgan. Together they had five children: Mary, William, Walter, Sophie and Rosalie.
My Dad always told me about his beautiful mother, and I still wish I had known her. She passed away giving birth to her daughter, also named Rosalie, when my Dad was not yet 6 years old. Dad told me that he and his brother Walter shared a bedroom when they were small, and when their mother was living she used to bring them a pitcher of biały kawa (coffee and milk) to drink when they woke up thirsty in the night. They were tiny boys when their father remarried (he had 5 children, and one was a newborn). One morning their stepmother came up to their room and there was a partial pitcher of coffee and milk, and two used cups nearby. She asked the boys how they got the drink, and they told her "Mama got it for us". Dad vividly remembered his own mother checking on them and bringing them their favorite drink. The pitcher was heavy and impossible for the boys to lift and pour on their own.
Another morning, their stepmother was warming a bottle of milk in a pan of water on the stove for baby Rose. My Dad said they saw the pan lift off the stove and crash to the floor, spilling the milk. Their stepmother bent to clean up the milk and found that it was sour. She always said that was Rose's own mother protecting her baby.
The marker on Rosalie's grave was originally a wooden cross made by her husband (my grandfather) Michael. My Dad remembered taking the cross with his father and walking to the cemetery to place it at his mother's burial site. Years later, my Dad and his sister (I believe he said it was Sophie) purchased a stone for his mother's grave, since the wooden cross of course did not last. That is the stone that remains to this day. When I was younger I went to Sacred Heart Cemetery with my parents for another relative's burial. My Dad had not been there in years, but had no trouble walking directly to the site of his mother's grave.
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