Hungarian Heritage Review, 1989 (18. évfolyam, 1-9. szám)
1989-01-01 / 1. szám
— ^Mungartan-^mertcan Tßvaixiez = A HUNGARIAN-AMERICAN MISS IN THE U.S. NAVY: LT. KAREN E. GRAH Hungarians have proudly worn the uniform of the Armed Forces of the United States dating back to the American Revolution right up to the present time. Their service and battle records are second-to-none and the Hungarian community in America can be justly proud of the numerous medals and citations awarded to so many of them for gallantry in action and for bravery above and beyond the call of duty. It is no surprise, then, to learn that there are so many American-born citizens of Hungarian descent serving in every branch of our armed forces: the Army, the Air Force, the Marine Corps, the Navy. But, what is a little out of the ordinary is the subject of this profile. For she, Karen E. Grah, is a Lieutenant in the United States Navy! What’s more, she is proud to say: “Magyar Vagyok”! A PENNSYLVANIA GIRL Karen E. Grah was born in Philadelphia and was raised in Levittown, Pennsylvania. After her graduation from Pennsbury High School, she enlisted in the US Navy. Her service has taken her to Guantanamo, Cuba; Norfolk, Virginia; Memphis Tennessee, San Diego and San Francisco, California. She became an Ensign in 1980, and she served as Administrative Officer and Assistant Intelligence Officer in Strike Fighter Squadron 126, the Navy’s first F/A-18a Squadron. As a result of her work, Ensign Grah was invited to submit a biography and was chosen for inclusion in Marquis’ Who’s Who of American Women. THE HUNGARIAN TIES Lieutenant Grah’s family traces its origins to the little village of Magygyimot, Veszprém Megye, near the town of Papa. Her mother, Margit Alper, was bom there. Shortly thereafter, the family moved to Budapest, where Karen’s grandfather was a policeman. Soon after this, the family emigrated to the United States. They did, however, keep their ties with the family back home. .. .IN HER OWN WORDS Lieutenant Grah’s story is, perhaps, ORAH best told in her own words, for they echo a theme very familiar to many Hungarians living in this country: ‘ ‘When my mother was growing up (in the United States during the thirties and forties) it was unfashionable to be anything but American, and when my sisters and brothers were growing up we were shortchanged out of enjoying our ethnic heritage. My grandmother died in 1969, and with her went all contact with relatives in the old country. My mother and aunts and uncles had never learned to read or write in Hungarian and had lost all but the most rudimentary speaking ability. In 1985, my mother asked if I would like to go for a vacation to Budapest... HOMECOMING ‘ ‘The trip was fascinating, but the best part was when we decided to rent a car and drive to my mother 's hometown. We had no names, no idea if any relatives were still alive, only a burning curiosity and a desire to reconnect with distant family.. .It was late in the afternoon when we drove into the tiny village. Magygyimot has perhaps two hundred residents, and we had no idea exactly how to begin our search. We stopped at the first church we saw (there appeared to be three in town) and asked for the priest.. .It was obvious that two women driving a BMW was an extremely odd sight to these villagers because wherever we went we caused a stir! We approached the priest, and my mother, in halting Hungarian, explained why we were there. She showed him some old, yellowing photographs... some of them almost 40 years old. One very old woman who was leaning over the priest ’s shoulder obviously recognized the woman in one of the old photos and offered to take us to the house where this woman lived. The house was about a mile away and when we arrived we were very nervous. We knocked on the door, and when it opened a woman in her 50’s opened the door. She looked very puzzled. The old woman with us said, ‘ ‘These are your cousins from America, ’ ’ but the woman still looked very puzzled. My mother said, “My name is Margit Alper,' ’ and all at once this woman began to look amazed, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. She began to cry, “Margit! Margit!" as though my mother had come back from the grave, and she threw open the door and hugged my mother for several minutes. The conversation revealed that Roszi (the woman’s name) was my mother's first cousin, and my grandmother and she had had quite a close relationship through their correspondence. When my grandmother died and the letters stopped coming, she assumed that there just wasn't any family left in America. It was an amazing visit, and we met several other relatives on my grandmother ’s side of the family. ’’ A RETURN TO THE HERITAGE As a result of this visit, Lieutenant Grah was so strongly moved that she made a determined effort to regain her Hungarian linguistic heritage, and she began studying the language in order to keep up the correspondence with Roszi. She found a teacher near Chicago and has made great progress in her language training. As she says, “I have become very proud of being able to say ‘Magyar vagyok.’ ” And we of the HHR are, of course, delighted and proud to have been, in some small measure, of assistance in rekindling the Hungarian flame in the heart of Lieutenant Karen E. Grah. JANUARY 1989 HUNGARIAN HERITAGE REVIEW 13
