My Parents and how they met and married.

Johann Friedrich Lietz was born on the 15th of June 1802 in Lauenburg in Mecklenburg, son of poor parents of the lower class. His father died early and mother had a hard time to provide for herself and her two sons, Johann and it even younger son Joachim. Therefore, she got married a second time, but had the misfortune to get a drunkard and her life became even harder because of that. She provided for both of her children through hard labor with her own hands. She also sheltered them from the wild life of her second husband. He wanted to get the boys into drinking (as Johann often told us) but it disgusted them and they detested their stepfather. Johann learned to be a mason.

But there was not much work, so he grabbed his walking stick and started journeying, as was the custom during that time. Several years went past. He traveled pretty much through all of Germany. He spent more time in all the capital cities where the pay was better; and thus he could send his mother money to make her hard life a little easier. Everywhere he was recognized by the city fathers and the Mason Guild, as can be seen in his journeyman logbook and several recommendations that praised him as an industrious and loyal workman with immaculate character. He went into Hungary, and got to know Budapest. And he went on across the Russian border to Odessa, Kiev, Warsaw, and finally landed in Riga, where he probably liked it best. These last trips he made together with his comrade, Christoph Steinert, who also remained in Riga and became the ancestor of the family Steinert, who made a name for themselves and still are quite rich. The two comrades were very close at the beginning, they even looked for adjacent graves in the cemetery, but then each one found a wife and started a household and the friendship became less close.

My father married at the end of 1830th a very young girl, Elise Sandkamp, who was supposed to have been very pretty but delicate and weak. Her mother, the widow Sandkamp, had a little house at the corner of Gertrude-and Merienstreet, and there the young couple made their home. Their son Bernhard was born on the Fourth of July, 1839, and soon after that the young woman died. Father was now a widower and continued to live with his little son in the house of the old grandmother, until he married again in 1843 my mother, Charlotte Christine Eeck. She was not as pretty as the first wife, but had a good character and the heart was in the right place.

But now I'll have to tell you her previous life story. She was born June 10th, 1814 as the daughter of a country teacher, Carl Eeck and his wife Eva, born Koch on the estate Drobbusch, near Wenden. Three other children were born into this marriage, the older brother Reinhold, then Gustav, and younger sister Frederick Clementine. With that, Mrs. Eva had fulfilled her life role and died after a short illness, and widower Eeck had to look for a second wife. He found her in the elderly Ms. Elizabeth Ibenoff (born in Wenden). With his wife, he had not won a prize. She was exceedingly power hungry and had her husband under her thumb, and the children got a very mean and hard stepmother. She could not do much to the eldest son Reinhold, he went to the high school (he was to become an educated person), but the other three were not even allowed to learn anything at home, she thought that was unnecessary. The two girls had to tend the geese and pigs in the summer and had to spin and weave and do other hard household chores. Gustav took care of the horses and anything else. Father Eeck, who was a real jellyfish at home, kept his silence with his loud and shrilly complaining wife; he wanted to have his peace and rather let his children suffer. They grew up ignorant and did not get to learn more than a little bit of reading and writing.

When the daughter Christine was 17 years old, they wanted her out of the house, and the father brought her to Riga, where she was supposed to find a position. First they left her with friends, the family Osling the parents of the later Olga Kruemmel. They took care of the completely naive young girl as good friends, a fact which our mother always valued very highly. After a few trial positions that did not work out, Christine Eeck came into the house of the laudable Councilman Christoph Hollander, whose family was blessed with several daughters. They all lived a comfortable life, went to many parties and balls and therefore were looking for a maid who would take care of their clothes. There was a lot of washing, ironing, sewing and other housework to be done. They appreciated the unspoiled young German girl who quickly got used to life in the city, and she was thankful for the position.

Almost a decade passed. Then it happened that a Jew came up the back stairs selling tickets for a foreign lottery with a drawing that happened to be soon. Little Christine wanted to try her luck. She wanted to draw a ticket out of the tray the Jew had, but one fell by itself on the floor at her feet. She didn't really want to take that one, but the Jew said: "take it Miss, it will bring you luck, and when you win you will thank me and give me a percentage, maybe a third." She let herself be talked into it, without a lot of hope to win. But after some time, the Jew came back with a great hello and the happy message that the ticket had won 1000 Thaler- "and of course, beautiful Miss, you're going to give the percentage, a third, like you promised". Little Christine might have done it in her happiness, but the other servants brought the tale quickly to higher places and Mr. Councilman Hollander came quickly, gave the Jew the good tip, and when he still whined about his percentages, the Councilman threw him personally out of the house. He then took the ticket and collected the money, and through his energetic help Christine actually did get her full 1000 Thaler.

Our mother now had become a rich girl, and the aura of having a dowry surrounded her. No wonder, that she herself was now thinking of marrying, and she was often humming to herself a song that was popular at the time: "Peter, if you want to marry, come and marry me. I have 1000 Thaler, which I will give to you." And several such "Peters" came, who wanted to marry her; but she did not take the very first one. Her eyes were too wide open and she had a good amount of common sense. But when the quiet and unassuming Johann Lietz introduced himself, she probably thought "You can try it with him" even though he was a widower and brought his little son Bernhard into the marriage. She immediately decided not to be an evil stepmother.

The wedding was in 1864, November 22nd, St. Martinsday, and it is said to have been a great wedding. It was celebrated in a rented restaurant, Alexanderstrasse 3, with the ceremony being held in the house of superintendent Poelchau, and witnesses were Councilman Hollander and his daughters and many other invited guests; there was dancing afterwards and lots of good food and drink with nothing lacking. When mother talked later about her wedding, she got angry that they were so stupid, to spend so much good money on the wedding. But she owed it to her so-called good friends; otherwise they would have made nasty comments.

Soon after the wedding, they started looking for their own home, to invest their money safely. They found it in an old house with a lot of acreage around it on the Romanowstrasse (at that time it was in the suburbs and called Sandstrasse) for the price of 800 Rubles. The house was built in 1770, the deed still exists, Aunt Mila was keeping it, however, I have no idea where it is now. The house was one of the very few, that had not been destroyed in the great fire of 1812. The owner, an old and venerable man named Pilz often told the story: When Napoleon was on his campaign to the east, he went to Moscow, where he suffered his greatest loss. It was said that some of his more dispersed troops would be coming to Riga. The governor at that time was a man named von Essen. He was a native German but fanatically Russian. So he used what was done in Moscow as a model and burned the suburbs. He sent a notice to the complaining people to pack some of their things and come into the safety of the city within the gates. During the night, his guards went through the outlying regions and threw fire starters into all the wood houses to show their heroism. Finally it became obvious that no enemy was coming, that it had been a false alarm. The gates of the inner city had been closed because of the coming of the presumed enemy.

When after a few days the gates of the inner city were opened the poor refugees from the suburbs could go home again, without finding a home. Everywhere there were only smoking ruins. How surprised was Mr. Pilz when he came to the Sandstrasse and his house was standing without a mark. It looked like a miracle, and he was very happy. When he went inside, he also found that everything was exactly the way he had left it. Over time the other houses were rebuilt, but in a different style - without a garden in front and closer to the street. The street itself was raised and that's how it came, that the few houses that were safe from the fire, including ours, looked like they had sunk into the earth and often were called "old-Riga". Until 1843, the old Mr. Pilz kept his house, then he sold it to our parents and moved in with his married daughter. However, he often came visiting in his old house and told stories of the old times.