Home Page

Hello. We are the Comras family. Welcome to our family Web site. But who are we? We actually all don't know each other. But there aren't that many of us. And we may not all be family. I created this little spot on the Web as a place to find out answers to these questions. And to share our lives with each other as we find each other. I hope this site will enable our family and friends of our family, near and far, to find out about our family history, and to connect. I look forward to everyone sharing our family news and memories with  for years to come! Feel free to use the contact page to contact me.

Enjoy!

The Big Question

Have all the people who now share the name Comras evolved (as it were) from the same root name?

When I was younger, every time I would go to a new town I would look in the phone book to see if there were any other people named Comras. Now, in the age of the Internet, it's much easier. Hence this site. 

Here's what we know: In the late 1890's Peter Comras (my grandpa) came from St. Petersburg Russia to Ellis Island. There, they changed his name from Kamras to Comras. 

To get to the source of the name, here are the other things I would like to do:

• confirm the original name
• figure out how many of us there are
• learn where we came from
• map when we came over
• determine whether it really is one family or multiple
• overall get the big picture of what is a Comras?

That's Enough!

A Story

In 1982, I moved to New York City. One day, while leafing through the New York Times, I saw a full page ad saying the Seagrams Building had been sold, and the agent managing the transaction was The Comras Company. I was shocked. I had never seen my family's name pictured in such a nice typeface. 

It was a very impressive ad, and I had never heard of family in New York. I knew of family in Rhode Island, where my Dad was from, and Boston, and a few others scattered around, and my immediate family, but that was it. Who were these people?

I called Information and asked for their number and called them up. I got a secretary who, when I told her my name, seemed very skeptical, but put me through. The next thing I knew I was talking to the personal assistant for Joe Comras. I told her my name but she didn't believe me. "I've been with the family for years and I know all the Comras's and you aren't one." I explained the story and it wasn't too long before she realized that I was family. Indeed, very close family. 

I could tell this was a big firm, and when she put me on hold and a moment later when a voice said, "This is Joe Comras" I could feel the whoosh of getting through to the top about as fast as it could ever happen.

He really couldn't believe it. We struck up an immediate bond, and he told me part of the story. It's still coming together, and may never become a set story, but it was absolutely fascinating what he told me.

Back during World War I, also known at the time as the Great War, Peter, my Grandpa, was conscripted as a doughboy and went to fight in France. He owned a shoeshine stand, and before he left he gave it to his brother Jack to run. Peter saw action in the trenches, breathed in mustard gas, and got his jaw blown off, and won the Purple Heart.  Meanwhile, back in the States, Jack worked hard to make the business a success, and he did. When he came back, Peter and Jack never saw eye-to-eye on who now owned the business, and parted ways for good.

Flash forward sixty five years later. I call Joe, and we reconnect. I tell Joe I'm new in town, fresh out of school, and Joe tells me, "The guy who can really help you is my son David. He's about your age. I'll have my gal give you his number." 

I called David and we agreed to meet for a drink. He was as curious as I was. As I got to the place, I remember walking down the sidewalk and seeing this guy coming at me who really was my size and shape and look. As we got closer, it was like he knew it too, and so by the time we got close we were both smiling. We kind of stopped, looked at each other, and hugged. 

We ended up having 5 whiskeys together that night, and then the bartender gave us a 6th. We became great friends, heading all over NYC in his limos, using my William Morris connections (I was assistant to the head of the TV dept.) to get into clubs. We had a great party the last night of M*A*S*H. 

The night I met him, he asked me where I lived, and I told him I'd been looking for a place for over 3 months. He told me not to worry about it any more, and the next day I moved into a rent controlled 1 br. for around $400/month on the upper east side. At 22, my own family that I never knew got me set in New York City.

Now it's your turn

Who Are You?