Ellis Island Timeline Stories

1905

Deborah J. Simon

Deborah J. Simon

Three of my grandparents came to the United States from Europe and the Mediterranean region. I’m proud to honor my immigrant ancestors and the contributions they made to our family and to this country.

Black and white portrait of a light-skinned man and woman holding hands. He is seated, wearing glasses and a 3-piece suit. She stands, wearing a dark dress with short sleeves. Black and white mid-20th-century photo of a light-skinned man and a woman in formal attire seated together at a round table at a social function.

In 1912, my maternal grandfather, David Meshulam, emigrated from Monastir, Turkey (now Serbia) when he was 19 years old. Sailing from Patras, Greece, David arrived at Ellis Island on July 20th.

Page from a 1907 ship manifest for the S.S. Kaiser Franz Josef, listing passengers arriving at a U.S. port. The rows of passenger details are written in cursive, and one of them is highlighted in yellow.

Eight years later, my maternal grandmother Regina Profeta (registered as Rayna Porfeta on the ship manifest), also sailed from the port of Patros to start a new life in the United States.

Regina was from Thessalonika (Salonica), Greece. Salonica was one of the few cities with a Jewish-majority population. Jews established their own hospitals and schools, ran thriving businesses, and built synagogues. My great-grandfather was the caretaker of the synagogue there.

Black and white photo of a busy urban street, featuring multi-story buildings, streetcars, streetlamps, and groups of people on cobblestone paths. Black and white photo of two men sitting on a bench inside an ornate building with decorative columns and an arched doorway in the background.

In 1917, a great fire destroyed much of Salonica and many Jews left the city. When the Nazis took over during World War II, this vibrant metropolis of 120,000 Jews was decimated. Today, the Jewish population is less than 10,000.

A black and white aerial photo of a city in ruins, with rows of destroyed and damaged buildings extending across the landscape. Sepia-toned early 20th century photo of a rubble-strewn urban street. A dark-skinned woman and man walk in the foreground; others are in the background, all among crumbling buildings and power lines.

My maternal grandparents, David and Regina, had an arranged marriage, which was not uncommon among Sephardic Jews at that time. They had two children, one of whom was my mother, Bessie Meshulam, and the other, my uncle Albert. My grandfather David died at 50, and my grandmother Regina lived into her nineties. My grandmother spent her life after the death of her husband as a laundress to housekeeper.

Black and white portrait of a light-skinned man and woman holding hands. He is seated, wearing glasses and a 3-piece suit. She stands, wearing a dark dress with short sleeves. Black and white portrait of a smiling, light-skinned woman’s face. She has short, curly hair, wears wire-rimmed glasses, earrings, and a houndstooth top with a black collar.

On my father’s side, my grandfather, Mendl Asche, was born in Sokołów (in the Galicia region, in what is now Poland). In 1905, Mendl was just 16 when he bravely embarked on the journey to make a new life in the United States. He joined his brother, Harry, in New York.

Black and white early 20th-century portrait of a young man against a gray background. He wears a black suit jacket, a white high-collared dress shirt, and a tie S.S. Carpathia passenger manifest, indicating arrival in New York on February 25, 1905, with demographics handwritten in cursive for each passenger including last residence and U.S. destination.

In most documents from their native country, Mendl and his brother Harry were listed as illegitimate, because as Jews, their parents’ marriage was not legally recognized in Poland. Once here, Mendl became Max, and he and his brother adopted the last name Simon—we believe because their mother’s maiden name was Szeiman.

Max would go on to meet and marry my grandmother, Mae Gottlieb, in New York City. She was born in the United States to immigrant parents, Morris and Anna (Rogen) Gottlieb, who both emigrated from Passenheim, Germany in the 1800s.

Black and white mid-20th-century photo of a light-skinned man and a woman in formal attire seated together at a round table at a social function.

The Meshulam and Simon families were both in the tailoring business—my grandfather David in gloves, and my grandfather Max in women’s coats. Max worked for a time as a union organizer in the garment industry.

My father Melvin was born in 1926. He was the oldest of three sons, with brothers Herb and Fred.

My mother and father met while he was stationed in Indianapolis. After Melvin married my mother Bessie, he started Melvin Simon & Associates in 1960.

Black and white mid-20th-century photo of four light-skinned men in black suits with white flowers on their lapels, posing together against a light backdrop. Black and white wedding photo of a bride in a lace wedding gown and a groom in a tuxedo and kippah smiling at each other, surrounded by white flowers.

Our family business started with a few strip malls in Indianapolis and is now the largest owner of shopping malls in the United States. My brother David carried on the family legacy and took the company public in 1993 and named it Simon Property Group. We lost him in 2026. My nephew Eli took over after his father’s passing.

Color photo of a modern building entrance featuring the name "SIMON" in large white letters above glass doors and below green-tinted windows. Color photo of a light-skinned, senior gentleman wearing a suit and tie sitting in a motorized wheelchair. A light-skinned, younger man in a pink dress shirt and dark tie stands behind him. Both smile widely at the camera.

My father pursued the American Dream—going from the Bronx High School of Science to the City College of New York to the Army, then to success.

Like so many others, our family’s American dream would not have been possible without the ancestors who came before us—people who took risks and sacrificed for future generations. Supporting the Ellis Island National Museum of Immigration is part of that legacy.

We all come from immigrants, tailors to laundresses. America gave us the opportunity. We pass on this pride to others.

This Museum is essential. It preserves complex, inspiring stories that tell us who we are as individuals, as families, and as a nation.

Black and white portrait photo of a light-skinned family featuring a seated woman with a child on her lap. A girl in a dress and a boy in a suit stand on either side of her. Black and white portrait of ten light-skinned men, some standing and others crouched, in front of a doorway with a sign reading "Y. Nahum" above a six-pointed star. Ellis Island Immigration Museum, a red brick building with green domes, flanked by trees and a flagpole displaying the American flag, set against a blue sky.