It may not have been completely true but the romance of a widow and eight children abandoned on the side of a desolate prairie gravel road as a cold wind blew and the serendipity of the kind-hearted man who happened by, was smitten and took them in made for a great story.  It could happen, right?  Maybe not but the tragedy of the circumstance that brought them together was real.

I don't know much about Dan N. Cojocar (son of Nick and Garafira) the person, but I have learned a bit about his military service.  Regrettably it is his only legacy as he was a single man who volunteered for the army during World War II at the age of just nineteen and was killed in action when he was barely twenty.

For those of you tied into the Cojocari tree you will notice that there are three variations on the spelling.  

There is Cojocar (with no "i" on the end), Cojocari (with an "i" on the end) and Cojacari (with an "a" in the middle instead of an "o" and also an "i" on the end). How did it get that way?

If I had to point to a single couple in my family tree who contributed the most to the population of the family it would have to be Nicolai and Garafira Cojocari.  Garafira gave birth to eighteen children (one every year or so), fifteen of which survived to adulthood.  Twelve of those adult children then married and, between them, raised thirty-nine children of their own.  And so it goes.

A party to celebrate the christening of the daughter of John Kraincuik on August 28, 1913 on a farm near Avonlea, Saskatchewan took a terrible turn when a fight broke out and a man was killed.  The man who died was named John Paicu.  The men accused of causing his death were John Cojocari, his brother Nicolai Cojocari and Mordari Puscar.