Calvin Synod Herald, 2014 (115. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
2014-07-01 / 7-8. szám
CALVIN SYNOD HERALD 9 The Bethlen Home Orphanage opened in July 4, 1921 and closed its doors July 31, 1978. In those 77 years it was home to over 3,000 orphans. This is the reflection of one orphan who remembers his time in "The Home". The Longest Month of the Year By Salvatore A. Cosentino As Uncle Andy's car moved slowly eastward on Church Street, Aunt Audrey Tamás complained that a specific body part was killing her. It had been a long drive from Passaic, New Jersey to the Bethlen Home in Ligonier Pennsylvania. As I sat in the back seat with my older sister Lillian Ann, younger brother Ronald, and my cousin Gary, I gazed upon an ivy covered, red brick building that would be my home for the next six years. It was Memorial Day Weekend, 1959, and there was an air of excitement at "The Home". Across Fairfield Street, now the local YMCA, was Ligonier High School. And preparations were going on for the graduation ceremonies. In years to come I would be blessed to be acquainted with a few of the Ligonier High School, class of 1959 graduates. One became a teacher and taught algebra at Ligonier High School. Though she had pity on me with a passing grade, I've always believed that it was due to my "puppy love" for her, along with several marriage proposals that year. She "broke my heart" when she married the tall, dashing history teacher and moved away. Another 1959 graduate was the older brother of someone who would later become one of my best friends and fellow football teammate. I was frequently at their farm in the Bethel Church region of Stahlstown. I was "like family" and no words can describe the blessing of it. At The Home there were one or two children who would soon experience the "Pomp and Circumstance" and move on to futures unknown. As a then eight-year old, I recall the excited frivolity of the "older kids". One such young woman, also an orphan, was Shirley "Pinky" Waugh. She would be parting company with a best friend from a very fine family in Waterford. I would later become acquainted with Pinky's best friend via a good friendship with her daughter. Sadly, Pinky's whereabouts are unknown even by her family. For the next six years I would have lots of fun with the many children that came and went at The Home. Early on one such "older kid" named Karl Ludwig, from the Chicago area, provided me and a few other youngsters with the best Christmas surprise I ever received. As we were being regaled with Christmas stories in one of the boy's second floor bedrooms overlooking the backyard on Christmas Eve, with a heavy snow falling, we were led across the hallway to a front bedroom and told that if we truly believed in Santa Claus we would find candy and small toys on the window sill. Sure enough, once opened, our "believing eyes" beheld the very precious "goodies"". And it had been snowing so much that no footprints were visible. I am forever grateful for that moment. Over the years I enjoyed the friendship of many children at The Home, Most notably the Harsa twins, Christine and Elaine, from Carteret NJ, the Kemencei trio of Ferenc, Louis and Maria from New York City, and the Tisza brothers, Joe and George, also form New Jersey. Chris and Elaine moved back to New Jersey to finish high school and look after their ailing father. Louis Kemencei used to crack us up with his flawed English idioms as he slowly assimilated to America. As a fan of "world football" he was quite adept at kicking any ball. He used to kick straight and true 45 yard field goals down at Weller Field. But he shunned American football, much to the High school coach's chagrin. For basketball he practiced many hours in the backyard and he made the team. But what I most respect of the three of them was their struggle in getting to America. On a cumbersome Wallensak reelto-reel tape recorder, Louie would play sounds of street fighting in Budapest in 1956. He told us of the deprivations they endured during that difficult time. He even mentioned places set up to assist in breast feeding infants called "Anya Tej" (mother's milk). He was the first and wouldn't be the last to share such stories. And when I became an "older kid" I had to assist and teach George Tisza (now Grof-Tisza) in the proper way of cleaning pots and pans. I can now quip that I "laid the foundation" for his stellar accomplishments as a husband, dad and Emergency Room Physician. Most of the "school year" children spent their summers back home with their parent(s). But we three Cosentinos stayed the summer in Ligonier. The one and only plus to that was Hungarian Summer School. It was the one experience the other children truly missed out on. It was a BLAST!!! Beginning on July 1, an army of Hungarian children began arriving. For me it became a month long vacation without leaving home. The boys' rooms doubled capacity from four to eight beds. All those new faces and personalities to feast upon. A Hungarian smorgasbord of knowledge and experiences. And I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the many very pretty gals to tease and befriend. Now, I'll admit that I didn't put forth much effort in the daily Hungarian language and culture classes. My choices in instruction usually depended on which Hungarian Beauty I strove to be with that month. One lovely gal remains vivid to me. I believe it was the summer of 1963, remembering that we were both twelve years old. Her name was Marika Behr from D.C. She was a blonde-haired, blue eyed angel who stole my heart. I've never forgotten her. I hope she has had a blessed life. When I wasn't tripping all over myself with puppy love, I was "wreaking havoc" with some of the more mischievous boys. One such lad was named Ernie, who was in the Marine ROTC with uniform to match. He organized "night maneuvers" with two teams of 3 - 4 boys. We would "sneak out" via the ground
