Ask Zalman Usiskin about his family’s history, and he’ll show a book on the subject. No, seriously. He’ll open a 383-page, indexed, hardback book.
Between its covers are complex diagrams charting his family tree back to the first decade of the nineteenth century—all of which he researched and wrote.
Usiskin is known as the tree-keeper for the Rivkes, a sprawling network of 1,150 living family members—“cousins,” as they call each other—descended from eastern Polish immigrants.
And many pages of Usiskin’s book came alive over the Fourth of July weekend, when more than 300 Rivke relatives descended on the Marriott Resort in Lincolnshire for the family reunion to end all family reunions. The event was 5 years in the making.
Over a three-day period, they took over the resort. They ate, danced, laughed, played, sang, swam and talked. A lot. “There’s no inherited disease in this family, but there is an inherited trait, and that’s non-stop talking,” Usiskin told me, as we waited for the family concert to begin.
Attendees came from locales spanning the globe—Canada, Israel, Russia and Ukraine—and all across the U.S. Almost a quarter of the Rivkes there traveled from their homes on the North Shore.
And they also spanned generations: from 3-month-old Copper Shefren to 103-year-old Belle Greiman, both of Deerfield. “I don’t think there’s another one like it in the whole world,” Greiman says of her family.
Chances are you know a Rivke descendant, even if you don’t know you do. Many of them are your neighbors. They’re also musicians, professors, social workers and teachers. Some are even Olympians (2006 silver medalist ice dancer Ben Agosto) and famous actors (John Turturro).
But what unites them, says Marisa Phillippi of Arlington Heights, is the desire to be connected. “It’s important to keep connected,” Phillippi says. “There’s a legacy.”
So how has the family managed to maintain ties after all these years, in this age of hustle-and-bustle? The answer involves a bit of a history lesson.
Around 1910, 25-year-old Rebecca Srolewich died while pregnant with her second child. The tragedy gave the family pause. They needed an organization for the family to “remain close to one another in gladness, and Heaven forbid, in sorrow,” says Max Zukerman, a Rivke patriarch at the time.
So for the last 100 years, they’ve been setting aside times like these to enjoy each other. To keep that connection close, Phillippi says, the family has one rule: “We don’t promote politics, religion or business enterprises,” she says. It’s a time-honored tenet that has helped the family avoid feuds.
After the family concert on Friday, which featured the talents of many of its members, 86-year-old Leah Rosenthal made her way out of the ballroom and mingled with her husband, son and daughter. Soon their conversation turned to reflection.
“Blood is thicker than water,” Rosenthal, of Northbrook, says. “You hear the saying, ‘I should’ve,’ a lot. This family does.”
Photos courtesy of Mark Segal Photography.
