Hungarian Heritage Review, 1988 (17. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1988-01-01 / 1. szám
Imperial 3[eature- MERRY WIDOW AND SAD MEMORY Sometimes it seems like yesterday. Actually it was 40 summers ago that I was working as a journey-cook in the huge catering kitchen of the Salzburg Festival House in Austria. It was shortly after the end of World War II. Food was scarce. But, thanks to the American soldiers who came to the Salzburg summer music festivals from the occupation areas of Germany and Austria, and other parts of Europe to visit the birthplace of Mozart, the Festival House was privileged to serve the occupying forces and had plenty of cheese, butter, eggs, vegetables, and some veal and sausages. There was little variety to my job in the kitchen. Sometimes I peeled and split as many as 1,200 hardboiled eggs on my shift. This went on and on, day after day. But then, as I was really getting bored, the season was over and we were without jobs until next spring. With three other Hungarians, I decided to try issuing an immigrant literary newspaper. We got hold of an old-hand-cranked mimeograph machine. We got permission to go ahead from the US military authorities. Soon we were in business with Sorsunk (Our Future). We were turning out articles, stories, news and poetry in Hungarian. I was lettering titles and 1 rchef Louis ozdthmdry On Life drawing illustrations. We started with 50 copies, and hit our peak with 200 copies of our 1959 Christmas issue. Working among the four of us on Sorsunk was Professor Ernest Tinschmidt, an educator specializing in the problems of deaf mutes. Thinking it would make an interesting story for our paper, he suggested we could do an interview with the Hungarian composer, Franz Lehar, probably best known for his operetta, The Merry Widow. Professor Tinschmidt was acquainted with the composer who lived in a villa in Bad Ischl, not far from Salzburg. He wrote to Lehar asking if we could visit him for an interview for our paper, enclosing several copies of Sorsunk. It was about a month before we received a postcard from Lehar setting the date and time for our visit. We were very excited. It was a bone-chilling morning when we left at 5 o’clock to catch the first train to Bad Ischl. The train was old and cold, rattling and dirty. We sat on hard wooden seats as it slowly made its way, stopping at just about every hamlet and farm along the way. It was almost noon when we arrived at the Bad Ischl depot and began walking to the Lehar villa. It was —continued next page 24 HUNGARIAN HERITAGE REVIEW JANUARY 1988
