Once upon a time, nobody much used last names.  Rich and powerful men had them, but the lower classes did not.  This changed at different points throughout history.  

Many people took the last names of their profession or trade — Smith, Miller, Taylor, Baker, Tanner.  Some last names meant ,”Son of …,” so Erickson (son of Eric), O’Henry (son of Henry), Darcy or D’arcy (of the Arcy’s).  Some denote place of family origin, like Hill or Green.  In Latvia people tended to name their children after natural objects.  When the Christian’s came through in the 1300s, this practice stopped somewhat.  Too pagan, though even today the country’s pagan roots are evident.  Instead of first names, they became last names.  So common Latvian last names are Irbe (partridge), Lacis (bear), and Leva (cherry tree).  My great grandmother’s last name was Bersin, which means birch.  Latvia is a country replete with birch trees. 

Mina Bersin never finished 8th grade.  She grew up in the country, likely on a farm.  Rural Latvia is flat and stretches nearly featureless to the distant horizon.  I’d take a picture of it, but there’s nothing to see.  The wind and snow in winter must just be inconceivably awful.  She moved to Riga to work as a cook for wealthy families.  Like many of her fellow countrymen, she was Lutheran.  It’s the biggest church in town with the highest steeple. 

The Russians ran things in Latvia during Mina’s youth.  I suspect the economy was not great, and World War One was on the horizon.  She probably had many reasons for leaving, as well as many reasons for hating Russians, which she did with a passion.

She worked in Boston for a German family as their cook after passage to America.  However, she wasn’t learning English and quit to work for another family where she did learn.  Her friend hooked her up with Fred Treiman, another Latvian who lived in Florida.  They corresponded for awhile before Fred convinced her to move in with him.  I say this knowing had she not moved I would not be here, but it was a mistake.  She almost moved to California with her sister, who by this time had come from Europe as well.  A contingent of the family, now lost to us, still live out there. 

Fred and his brother Alex owned a large farm, a part of which we still own today, in Brooksville, Florida.  They raised cattle, dairy at first and later beef, and grew yams.  She sold them in Tampa almost every day.  She also grew hay to feed the cattle.  Mina did most of the work, because unfortunately Fred and Alex were alcoholics who preferred drinking to farming.  She divorced him in 1933, an unheard of action in those days, and hated his guts for the rest of her life.  Like with leaving Latvia, I suspect she had her reasons.  

The old town is a mixture of various styles, with small streets paved using cobblestones.  The area is free from most vehicles and very walkable.  There you can see tons architectural styles, often next to each other, depending on what was bombed when.  There are many street vendors and a few other churches. 

Our time together wanes.  As I write this, I’m in London.  We’re seeing a show on the West End tonight, Come From Away.  I saw it in NYC but mom has not.