How My Mother Became an American Citizen
Genealogical research sometimes reveals interesting and unexpected stories about a family member. This one involves my mother, Lila Gutzka (nee Wolfe), who was born in Canada in 1904 and came to America when she was a child.
The story begins two years after her father, Henry Wolfe, died of typhoid fever at the family home in Elmwood, Ontario, in 1906. That’s when his widow, Mary Pfeffer Wolfe, moved those of her children still living at home to Detroit where her three oldest daughters—Phoebe, Adeline and Claire—were already residing. Mabel, the next oldest, who was stricken with typhoid at the same time as her father, but recovered, was still living at home as were siblings Herbert, Clarence, Chester, William and the baby of the family—Lila. Henry and Mary’s first-born, Albert, was already married at the time of his father’s death and living in Kitchener with his wife and two children. I haven’t been able to establish the exact date Mary and the children crossed the border, as no records of such entries into America were kept in those days. However, mom told me she was four when they arrived, which would make it sometime in 1908.
At the onset of the twentieth century Detroit was a vibrant, thriving manufacturing center that was on the cusp of becoming the world capital of the burgeoning automobile industry and was growing by leaps and bounds. A plentiful job market and the allure of life in the big city no doubt served as a powerful attraction to those living in small lumber towns, such as Elmwood. Hardwood forests in the region were rapidly being depleted and converted to farmland. It was abundantly clear that the lumber mill that once flourished there and was the backbone of the area’s economy, as well as the rail hub that provided an efficient distribution point for the mill’s output, were in a state of steep decline and would soon become a thing of the past due to a shortage of logs suitable for milling.
With the loss of an inexpensive and abundant source of milled hardwood, neighboring towns like Hanover, five miles south of Elmwood and once known as “The Grand Rapids of Ontario”, were also affected. Once home to several furniture manufacturing firms, those too were destined to become a thing of the past. Thus, Detroit and other flourishing American cities were flooded with immigrants, not only from Canada, but from many other nations around the world struggling with economic difficulties.
Prior to 9/11/2001, border crossings between Canada and the United States were, for the most part, uncomplicated, hassle-free, casual events; people were pretty much free to come and go as they pleased, no credentials required, with few questions asked, provided of course that they weren’t suspected of transporting contraband, or smuggling items across the border that were subject to tariffs. Every day, even before the Ambassador Bridge opened in 1929, hundreds of Canadian citizens boarded ferry boats and routinely crossed the Detroit River from Windsor to Detroit to work, shop and visit friends and relatives. During the winter months, when heavy ice kept the ferries from running, they walked across on the frozen river. Once here, many simply stayed and established a permanent residence, their presence undocumented, which was the case of Mary Wolfe and her brood.
After settling in their new home in a German enclave on the southwest side of the city, the family began the process of assimilating into their new surroundings. Mary enrolled the youngest children in school and went about the task of running the household. The two oldest, Mabel and Herbert, probably entered the workforce. For several reasons the family had little incentive to obtain American citizenship. For one, lack of citizenship didn’t pose any impediments on aliens that prevented them from conducting business transactions and their personal affairs during that era. Evidence of this is that three of the boys became successful businessmen. Clarence was the founder and co-owner of the Wayne Creamery that serviced southwest Detroit; William owned and operated a printing company; while Chester became an upper echelon manager at Kelsey-Hayes Company, a major manufacturer of components for the auto industry. Further, during WWI Clarence served in the U.S. Navy, Chester in the U.S. Army and William in the U.S. Marines. Whether they revealed that they were Canadian citizens when they enlisted isn’t known.
Another compelling reason that may explain why the Wolfes weren’t enthused about gaining their citizenship had to do with Mary’s Mennonite roots. Like the Quakers and Amish, the Mennonites insulated themselves as much as possible from the secular world and resisted dealing with the government. This probably explains why the births of the Wolfe children were never recorded in Ontario when they were born, requiring those who pursued getting their citizenship as adults having to apply for “delayed” birth certificates from the province.
Finally, there was little incentive for females to proactively seek citizenship since provisions included in the immigration laws during that era favored women. Prior to 1922, when the law changed, an immigrant woman was automatically granted citizenship when she and her U.S. citizen fiancé were declared "man and wife." In this case her proof of citizenship was a combination of two documents: the marriage certificate and her husband's birth record or naturalization certificate. If the woman had minor children, they, too, were granted U.S. citizenship as a result of the marriage. Phoebe, Adeline and Clare, who came to Detroit before the rest of the family, married prior to 1922 and gained their citizenship under the prevailing law. Of course, this law was of little consequence to the children living on Rogers Street because Mary never remarried and remained a Canadian citizen the rest of her life. Mabel eventually married William Fox, a Canadian, and returned to Canada to live on his farm located between Chatham and Wallaceburg, and thus retained her Canadian citizenship. This left the remaining children—Herbert, Clarence, Chester, William, and Lila—to pursue U.S. citizenship on their own.
It’s unknown but doubtful whether Herbert, who died in 1932, ever bothered to become a citizen. However, Clarence, Chester and William did start the naturalization process in early 1941, more than 30 years after Mary moved the family to Detroit. I suspect that America’s impending entry into WWII spurred them and many other resident aliens to urgently pursue obtaining their U.S. citizenship due to the strict security measures that went into effect at the border and at strategic defense facilities throughout the region, as well as the heightened scrutiny of aliens living here, especially those of German and Japanese decent. The wave of paranoia that swept over the nation after Pearl Harbor resulted in the internment of thousands of Japanese Americans in concentration camps in the west; rumors were rampant that the same fate was about to befall those of German ancestry in the east. On a Detroit Border Crossing document issued to William dated March 4, 1942, he stated that his nationality was “English”. Do you suppose that William was unaware that his surname and heritage were German? I think not. Given the times, he probably thought it might have complicated things had he stated, “German” instead of “English”.
That leaves my mother, Lila, who married Herman Gutzka, an American citizen, in 1924, two years after the immigration laws changed, precluding her from gaining her citizenship automatically when she said, “I do.” So, like her siblings, she continued to reside here as an undocumented alien until early 1942. At the urging of her brothers, she too began the process of becoming a citizen. She dutifully completed all the required paperwork and everything went smoothly until she was told it was mandatory that she attend orientation classes on U.S. history, government, etc. which all new citizens were required to take. She balked at having to do this, arguing that she was four years old when she arrived here more than three decades ago, was already versed on all those subjects since she was educated in American schools, had been married to an American for nearly 20 years and was raising a family here. In short, she felt as though she was as much an American as someone born here, and having to attend those damn classes was not only insulting but would be a total waste of her time. Her pleas to have this requirement waived fell on deaf ears. The bureaucracy wouldn’t bend, nor would my normally patient, mild-mannered mother who could become very stubborn and feisty when she thought she was right. In the end, she told them—politely I’m sure—to “stuff it where the moon don’t shine”, walked out of their office and never returned. From that time forward she would never again cross the border into Canada for fear her status as an illegal alien would be discovered and she would be placed in leg irons and deported. Consequently, she lived her entire life as a Canadian citizen. Thanks to my dad, however, she became an honorary American citizen. On her death certificate where it asks, “Citizen of what country?” he made sure it said, “USA”.
So it was that I lived under the same roof with an illegal alien until I left home at the age of 18 to fulfill the military obligation imposed on young men during that era. Whenever I’m asked about my mother’s side of the family I sometimes say in jest that they were Canadian ‘wetbacks’ who swam across the Detroit River to get into the United States. I must confess that because of my heritage I harbor a certain amount of empathy for the plight of today’s undocumented residents, especially those who came here as innocent children. The vast majority of “illegals” are hardworking, self-sufficient, tax-paying, law abiding members of the community who are desperately trying to improve their lot in life. Not unlike the Wolfe family that crossed the border more than a century ago.
Bill Gutzka _________________________
Rev. 1 - 10/09/2020
Genealogical research sometimes reveals interesting and unexpected stories about a family member. This one involves my mother, Lila Gutzka (nee Wolfe), who was born in Canada in 1904 and came to America when she was a child.
The story begins two years after her father, Henry Wolfe, died of typhoid fever at the family home in Elmwood, Ontario, in 1906. That’s when his widow, Mary Pfeffer Wolfe, moved those of her children still living at home to Detroit where her three oldest daughters—Phoebe, Adeline and Claire—were already residing. Mabel, the next oldest, who was stricken with typhoid at the same time as her father, but recovered, was still living at home as were siblings Herbert, Clarence, Chester, William and the baby of the family—Lila. Henry and Mary’s first-born, Albert, was already married at the time of his father’s death and living in Kitchener with his wife and two children. I haven’t been able to establish the exact date Mary and the children crossed the border, as no records of such entries into America were kept in those days. However, mom told me she was four when they arrived, which would make it sometime in 1908.
At the onset of the twentieth century Detroit was a vibrant, thriving manufacturing center that was on the cusp of becoming the world capital of the burgeoning automobile industry and was growing by leaps and bounds. A plentiful job market and the allure of life in the big city no doubt served as a powerful attraction to those living in small lumber towns, such as Elmwood. Hardwood forests in the region were rapidly being depleted and converted to farmland. It was abundantly clear that the lumber mill that once flourished there and was the backbone of the area’s economy, as well as the rail hub that provided an efficient distribution point for the mill’s output, were in a state of steep decline and would soon become a thing of the past due to a shortage of logs suitable for milling.
With the loss of an inexpensive and abundant source of milled hardwood, neighboring towns like Hanover, five miles south of Elmwood and once known as “The Grand Rapids of Ontario”, were also affected. Once home to several furniture manufacturing firms, those too were destined to become a thing of the past. Thus, Detroit and other flourishing American cities were flooded with immigrants, not only from Canada, but from many other nations around the world struggling with economic difficulties.
Prior to 9/11/2001, border crossings between Canada and the United States were, for the most part, uncomplicated, hassle-free, casual events; people were pretty much free to come and go as they pleased, no credentials required, with few questions asked, provided of course that they weren’t suspected of transporting contraband, or smuggling items across the border that were subject to tariffs. Every day, even before the Ambassador Bridge opened in 1929, hundreds of Canadian citizens boarded ferry boats and routinely crossed the Detroit River from Windsor to Detroit to work, shop and visit friends and relatives. During the winter months, when heavy ice kept the ferries from running, they walked across on the frozen river. Once here, many simply stayed and established a permanent residence, their presence undocumented, which was the case of Mary Wolfe and her brood.
After settling in their new home in a German enclave on the southwest side of the city, the family began the process of assimilating into their new surroundings. Mary enrolled the youngest children in school and went about the task of running the household. The two oldest, Mabel and Herbert, probably entered the workforce. For several reasons the family had little incentive to obtain American citizenship. For one, lack of citizenship didn’t pose any impediments on aliens that prevented them from conducting business transactions and their personal affairs during that era. Evidence of this is that three of the boys became successful businessmen. Clarence was the founder and co-owner of the Wayne Creamery that serviced southwest Detroit; William owned and operated a printing company; while Chester became an upper echelon manager at Kelsey-Hayes Company, a major manufacturer of components for the auto industry. Further, during WWI Clarence served in the U.S. Navy, Chester in the U.S. Army and William in the U.S. Marines. Whether they revealed that they were Canadian citizens when they enlisted isn’t known.
Another compelling reason that may explain why the Wolfes weren’t enthused about gaining their citizenship had to do with Mary’s Mennonite roots. Like the Quakers and Amish, the Mennonites insulated themselves as much as possible from the secular world and resisted dealing with the government. This probably explains why the births of the Wolfe children were never recorded in Ontario when they were born, requiring those who pursued getting their citizenship as adults having to apply for “delayed” birth certificates from the province.
Finally, there was little incentive for females to proactively seek citizenship since provisions included in the immigration laws during that era favored women. Prior to 1922, when the law changed, an immigrant woman was automatically granted citizenship when she and her U.S. citizen fiancé were declared "man and wife." In this case her proof of citizenship was a combination of two documents: the marriage certificate and her husband's birth record or naturalization certificate. If the woman had minor children, they, too, were granted U.S. citizenship as a result of the marriage. Phoebe, Adeline and Clare, who came to Detroit before the rest of the family, married prior to 1922 and gained their citizenship under the prevailing law. Of course, this law was of little consequence to the children living on Rogers Street because Mary never remarried and remained a Canadian citizen the rest of her life. Mabel eventually married William Fox, a Canadian, and returned to Canada to live on his farm located between Chatham and Wallaceburg, and thus retained her Canadian citizenship. This left the remaining children—Herbert, Clarence, Chester, William, and Lila—to pursue U.S. citizenship on their own.
It’s unknown but doubtful whether Herbert, who died in 1932, ever bothered to become a citizen. However, Clarence, Chester and William did start the naturalization process in early 1941, more than 30 years after Mary moved the family to Detroit. I suspect that America’s impending entry into WWII spurred them and many other resident aliens to urgently pursue obtaining their U.S. citizenship due to the strict security measures that went into effect at the border and at strategic defense facilities throughout the region, as well as the heightened scrutiny of aliens living here, especially those of German and Japanese decent. The wave of paranoia that swept over the nation after Pearl Harbor resulted in the internment of thousands of Japanese Americans in concentration camps in the west; rumors were rampant that the same fate was about to befall those of German ancestry in the east. On a Detroit Border Crossing document issued to William dated March 4, 1942, he stated that his nationality was “English”. Do you suppose that William was unaware that his surname and heritage were German? I think not. Given the times, he probably thought it might have complicated things had he stated, “German” instead of “English”.
That leaves my mother, Lila, who married Herman Gutzka, an American citizen, in 1924, two years after the immigration laws changed, precluding her from gaining her citizenship automatically when she said, “I do.” So, like her siblings, she continued to reside here as an undocumented alien until early 1942. At the urging of her brothers, she too began the process of becoming a citizen. She dutifully completed all the required paperwork and everything went smoothly until she was told it was mandatory that she attend orientation classes on U.S. history, government, etc. which all new citizens were required to take. She balked at having to do this, arguing that she was four years old when she arrived here more than three decades ago, was already versed on all those subjects since she was educated in American schools, had been married to an American for nearly 20 years and was raising a family here. In short, she felt as though she was as much an American as someone born here, and having to attend those damn classes was not only insulting but would be a total waste of her time. Her pleas to have this requirement waived fell on deaf ears. The bureaucracy wouldn’t bend, nor would my normally patient, mild-mannered mother who could become very stubborn and feisty when she thought she was right. In the end, she told them—politely I’m sure—to “stuff it where the moon don’t shine”, walked out of their office and never returned. From that time forward she would never again cross the border into Canada for fear her status as an illegal alien would be discovered and she would be placed in leg irons and deported. Consequently, she lived her entire life as a Canadian citizen. Thanks to my dad, however, she became an honorary American citizen. On her death certificate where it asks, “Citizen of what country?” he made sure it said, “USA”.
So it was that I lived under the same roof with an illegal alien until I left home at the age of 18 to fulfill the military obligation imposed on young men during that era. Whenever I’m asked about my mother’s side of the family I sometimes say in jest that they were Canadian ‘wetbacks’ who swam across the Detroit River to get into the United States. I must confess that because of my heritage I harbor a certain amount of empathy for the plight of today’s undocumented residents, especially those who came here as innocent children. The vast majority of “illegals” are hardworking, self-sufficient, tax-paying, law abiding members of the community who are desperately trying to improve their lot in life. Not unlike the Wolfe family that crossed the border more than a century ago.
Bill Gutzka _________________________
Rev. 1 - 10/09/2020
How My Mother Became an American Citizen
Genealogical research sometimes reveals interesting and unexpected stories about a family member. This one involves my mother, Lila Gutzka (nee Wolfe), who was born in Canada in 1904 and came to America when she was a child.
The story begins two years after her father, Henry Wolfe, died of typhoid fever at the family home in Elmwood, Ontario, in 1906. That’s when his widow, Mary Pfeffer Wolfe, moved those of her children still living at home to Detroit where her three oldest daughters—Phoebe, Adeline and Claire—were already residing. Mabel, the next oldest, who was stricken with typhoid at the same time as her father, but recovered, was still living at home as were siblings Herbert, Clarence, Chester, William and the baby of the family—Lila. Henry and Mary’s first-born, Albert, was already married at the time of his father’s death and living in Kitchener with his wife and two children. I haven’t been able to establish the exact date Mary and the children crossed the border, as no records of such entries into America were kept in those days. However, mom told me she was four when they arrived, which would make it sometime in 1908.
At the onset of the twentieth century Detroit was a vibrant, thriving manufacturing center that was on the cusp of becoming the world capital of the burgeoning automobile industry and was growing by leaps and bounds. A plentiful job market and the allure of life in the big city no doubt served as a powerful attraction to those living in small lumber towns, such as Elmwood. Hardwood forests in the region were rapidly being depleted and converted to farmland. It was abundantly clear that the lumber mill that once flourished there and was the backbone of the area’s economy, as well as the rail hub that provided an efficient distribution point for the mill’s output, were in a state of steep decline and would soon become a thing of the past due to a shortage of logs suitable for milling.
With the loss of an inexpensive and abundant source of milled hardwood, neighboring towns like Hanover, five miles south of Elmwood and once known as “The Grand Rapids of Ontario”, were also affected. Once home to several furniture manufacturing firms, those too were destined to become a thing of the past. Thus, Detroit and other flourishing American cities were flooded with immigrants, not only from Canada, but from many other nations around the world struggling with economic difficulties.
Prior to 9/11/2001, border crossings between Canada and the United States were, for the most part, uncomplicated, hassle-free, casual events; people were pretty much free to come and go as they pleased, no credentials required, with few questions asked, provided of course that they weren’t suspected of transporting contraband, or smuggling items across the border that were subject to tariffs. Every day, even before the Ambassador Bridge opened in 1929, hundreds of Canadian citizens boarded ferry boats and routinely crossed the Detroit River from Windsor to Detroit to work, shop and visit friends and relatives. During the winter months, when heavy ice kept the ferries from running, they walked across on the frozen river. Once here, many simply stayed and established a permanent residence, their presence undocumented, which was the case of Mary Wolfe and her brood.
After settling in their new home in a German enclave on the southwest side of the city, the family began the process of assimilating into their new surroundings. Mary enrolled the youngest children in school and went about the task of running the household. The two oldest, Mabel and Herbert, probably entered the workforce. For several reasons the family had little incentive to obtain American citizenship. For one, lack of citizenship didn’t pose any impediments on aliens that prevented them from conducting business transactions and their personal affairs during that era. Evidence of this is that three of the boys became successful businessmen. Clarence was the founder and co-owner of the Wayne Creamery that serviced southwest Detroit; William owned and operated a printing company; while Chester became an upper echelon manager at Kelsey-Hayes Company, a major manufacturer of components for the auto industry. Further, during WWI Clarence served in the U.S. Navy, Chester in the U.S. Army and William in the U.S. Marines. Whether they revealed that they were Canadian citizens when they enlisted isn’t known.
Another compelling reason that may explain why the Wolfes weren’t enthused about gaining their citizenship had to do with Mary’s Mennonite roots. Like the Quakers and Amish, the Mennonites insulated themselves as much as possible from the secular world and resisted dealing with the government. This probably explains why the births of the Wolfe children were never recorded in Ontario when they were born, requiring those who pursued getting their citizenship as adults having to apply for “delayed” birth certificates from the province.
Finally, there was little incentive for females to proactively seek citizenship since provisions included in the immigration laws during that era favored women. Prior to 1922, when the law changed, an immigrant woman was automatically granted citizenship when she and her U.S. citizen fiancé were declared "man and wife." In this case her proof of citizenship was a combination of two documents: the marriage certificate and her husband's birth record or naturalization certificate. If the woman had minor children, they, too, were granted U.S. citizenship as a result of the marriage. Phoebe, Adeline and Clare, who came to Detroit before the rest of the family, married prior to 1922 and gained their citizenship under the prevailing law. Of course, this law was of little consequence to the children living on Rogers Street because Mary never remarried and remained a Canadian citizen the rest of her life. Mabel eventually married William Fox, a Canadian, and returned to Canada to live on his farm located between Chatham and Wallaceburg, and thus retained her Canadian citizenship. This left the remaining children—Herbert, Clarence, Chester, William, and Lila—to pursue U.S. citizenship on their own.
It’s unknown but doubtful whether Herbert, who died in 1932, ever bothered to become a citizen. However, Clarence, Chester and William did start the naturalization process in early 1941, more than 30 years after Mary moved the family to Detroit. I suspect that America’s impending entry into WWII spurred them and many other resident aliens to urgently pursue obtaining their U.S. citizenship due to the strict security measures that went into effect at the border and at strategic defense facilities throughout the region, as well as the heightened scrutiny of aliens living here, especially those of German and Japanese decent. The wave of paranoia that swept over the nation after Pearl Harbor resulted in the internment of thousands of Japanese Americans in concentration camps in the west; rumors were rampant that the same fate was about to befall those of German ancestry in the east. On a Detroit Border Crossing document issued to William dated March 4, 1942, he stated that his nationality was “English”. Do you suppose that William was unaware that his surname and heritage were German? I think not. Given the times, he probably thought it might have complicated things had he stated, “German” instead of “English”.
That leaves my mother, Lila, who married Herman Gutzka, an American citizen, in 1924, two years after the immigration laws changed, precluding her from gaining her citizenship automatically when she said, “I do.” So, like her siblings, she continued to reside here as an undocumented alien until early 1942. At the urging of her brothers, she too began the process of becoming a citizen. She dutifully completed all the required paperwork and everything went smoothly until she was told it was mandatory that she attend orientation classes on U.S. history, government, etc. which all new citizens were required to take. She balked at having to do this, arguing that she was four years old when she arrived here more than three decades ago, was already versed on all those subjects since she was educated in American schools, had been married to an American for nearly 20 years and was raising a family here. In short, she felt as though she was as much an American as someone born here, and having to attend those damn classes was not only insulting but would be a total waste of her time. Her pleas to have this requirement waived fell on deaf ears. The bureaucracy wouldn’t bend, nor would my normally patient, mild-mannered mother who could become very stubborn and feisty when she thought she was right. In the end, she told them—politely I’m sure—to “stuff it where the moon don’t shine”, walked out of their office and never returned. From that time forward she would never again cross the border into Canada for fear her status as an illegal alien would be discovered and she would be placed in leg irons and deported. Consequently, she lived her entire life as a Canadian citizen. Thanks to my dad, however, she became an honorary American citizen. On her death certificate where it asks, “Citizen of what country?” he made sure it said, “USA”.
So it was that I lived under the same roof with an illegal alien until I left home at the age of 18 to fulfill the military obligation imposed on young men during that era. Whenever I’m asked about my mother’s side of the family I sometimes say in jest that they were Canadian ‘wetbacks’ who swam across the Detroit River to get into the United States. I must confess that because of my heritage I harbor a certain amount of empathy for the plight of today’s undocumented residents, especially those who came here as innocent children. The vast majority of “illegals” are hardworking, self-sufficient, tax-paying, law abiding members of the community who are desperately trying to improve their lot in life. Not unlike the Wolfe family that crossed the border more than a century ago.
Bill Gutzka _________________________
Rev. 1 - 10/09/2020
Genealogical research sometimes reveals interesting and unexpected stories about a family member. This one involves my mother, Lila Gutzka (nee Wolfe), who was born in Canada in 1904 and came to America when she was a child.
The story begins two years after her father, Henry Wolfe, died of typhoid fever at the family home in Elmwood, Ontario, in 1906. That’s when his widow, Mary Pfeffer Wolfe, moved those of her children still living at home to Detroit where her three oldest daughters—Phoebe, Adeline and Claire—were already residing. Mabel, the next oldest, who was stricken with typhoid at the same time as her father, but recovered, was still living at home as were siblings Herbert, Clarence, Chester, William and the baby of the family—Lila. Henry and Mary’s first-born, Albert, was already married at the time of his father’s death and living in Kitchener with his wife and two children. I haven’t been able to establish the exact date Mary and the children crossed the border, as no records of such entries into America were kept in those days. However, mom told me she was four when they arrived, which would make it sometime in 1908.
At the onset of the twentieth century Detroit was a vibrant, thriving manufacturing center that was on the cusp of becoming the world capital of the burgeoning automobile industry and was growing by leaps and bounds. A plentiful job market and the allure of life in the big city no doubt served as a powerful attraction to those living in small lumber towns, such as Elmwood. Hardwood forests in the region were rapidly being depleted and converted to farmland. It was abundantly clear that the lumber mill that once flourished there and was the backbone of the area’s economy, as well as the rail hub that provided an efficient distribution point for the mill’s output, were in a state of steep decline and would soon become a thing of the past due to a shortage of logs suitable for milling.
With the loss of an inexpensive and abundant source of milled hardwood, neighboring towns like Hanover, five miles south of Elmwood and once known as “The Grand Rapids of Ontario”, were also affected. Once home to several furniture manufacturing firms, those too were destined to become a thing of the past. Thus, Detroit and other flourishing American cities were flooded with immigrants, not only from Canada, but from many other nations around the world struggling with economic difficulties.
Prior to 9/11/2001, border crossings between Canada and the United States were, for the most part, uncomplicated, hassle-free, casual events; people were pretty much free to come and go as they pleased, no credentials required, with few questions asked, provided of course that they weren’t suspected of transporting contraband, or smuggling items across the border that were subject to tariffs. Every day, even before the Ambassador Bridge opened in 1929, hundreds of Canadian citizens boarded ferry boats and routinely crossed the Detroit River from Windsor to Detroit to work, shop and visit friends and relatives. During the winter months, when heavy ice kept the ferries from running, they walked across on the frozen river. Once here, many simply stayed and established a permanent residence, their presence undocumented, which was the case of Mary Wolfe and her brood.
After settling in their new home in a German enclave on the southwest side of the city, the family began the process of assimilating into their new surroundings. Mary enrolled the youngest children in school and went about the task of running the household. The two oldest, Mabel and Herbert, probably entered the workforce. For several reasons the family had little incentive to obtain American citizenship. For one, lack of citizenship didn’t pose any impediments on aliens that prevented them from conducting business transactions and their personal affairs during that era. Evidence of this is that three of the boys became successful businessmen. Clarence was the founder and co-owner of the Wayne Creamery that serviced southwest Detroit; William owned and operated a printing company; while Chester became an upper echelon manager at Kelsey-Hayes Company, a major manufacturer of components for the auto industry. Further, during WWI Clarence served in the U.S. Navy, Chester in the U.S. Army and William in the U.S. Marines. Whether they revealed that they were Canadian citizens when they enlisted isn’t known.
Another compelling reason that may explain why the Wolfes weren’t enthused about gaining their citizenship had to do with Mary’s Mennonite roots. Like the Quakers and Amish, the Mennonites insulated themselves as much as possible from the secular world and resisted dealing with the government. This probably explains why the births of the Wolfe children were never recorded in Ontario when they were born, requiring those who pursued getting their citizenship as adults having to apply for “delayed” birth certificates from the province.
Finally, there was little incentive for females to proactively seek citizenship since provisions included in the immigration laws during that era favored women. Prior to 1922, when the law changed, an immigrant woman was automatically granted citizenship when she and her U.S. citizen fiancé were declared "man and wife." In this case her proof of citizenship was a combination of two documents: the marriage certificate and her husband's birth record or naturalization certificate. If the woman had minor children, they, too, were granted U.S. citizenship as a result of the marriage. Phoebe, Adeline and Clare, who came to Detroit before the rest of the family, married prior to 1922 and gained their citizenship under the prevailing law. Of course, this law was of little consequence to the children living on Rogers Street because Mary never remarried and remained a Canadian citizen the rest of her life. Mabel eventually married William Fox, a Canadian, and returned to Canada to live on his farm located between Chatham and Wallaceburg, and thus retained her Canadian citizenship. This left the remaining children—Herbert, Clarence, Chester, William, and Lila—to pursue U.S. citizenship on their own.
It’s unknown but doubtful whether Herbert, who died in 1932, ever bothered to become a citizen. However, Clarence, Chester and William did start the naturalization process in early 1941, more than 30 years after Mary moved the family to Detroit. I suspect that America’s impending entry into WWII spurred them and many other resident aliens to urgently pursue obtaining their U.S. citizenship due to the strict security measures that went into effect at the border and at strategic defense facilities throughout the region, as well as the heightened scrutiny of aliens living here, especially those of German and Japanese decent. The wave of paranoia that swept over the nation after Pearl Harbor resulted in the internment of thousands of Japanese Americans in concentration camps in the west; rumors were rampant that the same fate was about to befall those of German ancestry in the east. On a Detroit Border Crossing document issued to William dated March 4, 1942, he stated that his nationality was “English”. Do you suppose that William was unaware that his surname and heritage were German? I think not. Given the times, he probably thought it might have complicated things had he stated, “German” instead of “English”.
That leaves my mother, Lila, who married Herman Gutzka, an American citizen, in 1924, two years after the immigration laws changed, precluding her from gaining her citizenship automatically when she said, “I do.” So, like her siblings, she continued to reside here as an undocumented alien until early 1942. At the urging of her brothers, she too began the process of becoming a citizen. She dutifully completed all the required paperwork and everything went smoothly until she was told it was mandatory that she attend orientation classes on U.S. history, government, etc. which all new citizens were required to take. She balked at having to do this, arguing that she was four years old when she arrived here more than three decades ago, was already versed on all those subjects since she was educated in American schools, had been married to an American for nearly 20 years and was raising a family here. In short, she felt as though she was as much an American as someone born here, and having to attend those damn classes was not only insulting but would be a total waste of her time. Her pleas to have this requirement waived fell on deaf ears. The bureaucracy wouldn’t bend, nor would my normally patient, mild-mannered mother who could become very stubborn and feisty when she thought she was right. In the end, she told them—politely I’m sure—to “stuff it where the moon don’t shine”, walked out of their office and never returned. From that time forward she would never again cross the border into Canada for fear her status as an illegal alien would be discovered and she would be placed in leg irons and deported. Consequently, she lived her entire life as a Canadian citizen. Thanks to my dad, however, she became an honorary American citizen. On her death certificate where it asks, “Citizen of what country?” he made sure it said, “USA”.
So it was that I lived under the same roof with an illegal alien until I left home at the age of 18 to fulfill the military obligation imposed on young men during that era. Whenever I’m asked about my mother’s side of the family I sometimes say in jest that they were Canadian ‘wetbacks’ who swam across the Detroit River to get into the United States. I must confess that because of my heritage I harbor a certain amount of empathy for the plight of today’s undocumented residents, especially those who came here as innocent children. The vast majority of “illegals” are hardworking, self-sufficient, tax-paying, law abiding members of the community who are desperately trying to improve their lot in life. Not unlike the Wolfe family that crossed the border more than a century ago.
Bill Gutzka _________________________
Rev. 1 - 10/09/2020
Family Members
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