Magyar News, 2001. szeptember-2002. augusztus (12. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
2001-11-01 / 3. szám
arrive early (did they go to Mass first, one wonders), with brother-in-law Mihály Kramcsák bringing the whiskey and beer from his saloon on Beechwood Avenue. The work would go on until noon or one, when the women arrived with the food. The rest of the day would be spent socializing, story telling, eating, and no-doubt, drinking. One advantage of the horse and wagon era was that the horses could find the way home, no matter what. Scattered across the Kings Highway and Tunxis Hill areas of Fairfield are the compact, simple houses that these immigrants built. Most of them have been remodeled, but they stand out in contrast to the larger capes and colonials of today. There also remains a legacy of street names: Andrássy, Apponyi, Timkó, and Rákóczi among others. Great-grandfather Paul Krájnyik arrived on Tunxis Hill soon after the turn of the century, the 19th century, that is. The men on the Hill followed the activities of a visionary German named Gustav Whitehead. He had an airplane, you see, which he designed and built himself, in a workshop down on Wordin Avenue. Great- Grandfather Paul hauled Whitehead's airplane from its storage site to various launch areas, although this was after 1902. A great controversy arose over whether Whitehead had flown before the Wright Brothers. Many local Hungarians swore that he did, but that failed to convince officials of the Smithsonian Institute. The controversy continues to this day. By the way, if you have any information which might help to confirm that Whitehead did indeed fly successfully in 1901, please contact Mr. Andy Kosch of Fairfield, who is spearheading the effort to prove that Gustave Whitehead was the first to fly. While Gustave Whitehead was German, his wife was Hungarian. Her maiden name was Louise Tuba. As a child, I spent many an hour with Grandma Agnes and Mrs. Whitehead in our living room. The two of them would drink tea and eat little Hungarian cakes, all the while carrying on an animated, yet polite conversation. It was punctuated by "Whitehead-né" and "Krányik-né", as they rocked back and forth in their chairs. I still carry in my mind an image of these two white-haired Hungarian women, dressed in their finest, whiling away a Sunday afternoon. When I was growing up and attending McKinley School, it was virtually biblical truth that Whitehead had invented the airplane. I attended school with Marilyn and Bob Whitehead, and Norman Baker, all grandchildren of the Whiteheads. Who knew better than they? By the way, you can see a replica of Whitehead's airplane in a small hangar down at Captain's Cove in Black Rock Harbor, in a place which was once part of the Hungarian community's waterfront, still known as the "Hunky Navy Yard" by some. Bridgeport's Hungarian Community Bridgeport had two "downtowns" for us in those days .There was Main Street, where the main stores and the banks were located. Then there was the Hungarian Community, itself, with its churches, social halls, bakeries, clothing stores, and, of course, saloons. You could walk from one end of this area to the other and often hear only Hungarian spoken. The churches included St. Stephens, the Roman Catholic Church, Holy Trinity Greek Catholic Church, virtually around the comer from St. Stephen's, and the Hungarian Reformed Church on the next block. In addition to services, there were many other Hungarian activities which went on. There were the many dinners, plays, musicals, and búcsus, religious festivals at which cakes with pictures of the appropriate saints on them were for sale. There were, of course, Hungarian lessons for the younger generations, even before there was Magyar Studies of America. You could buy almost anything in "Hunktown". Breiner's furniture could sell you living room sets, easy chairs and appliances. Haydu's market sold the best of meats, as did Frank Katona's market on Wordin Avenue. There were travel agencies, insurance agencies, dentists, physicians, and not too far away, at least two Hungarian undertakers. And, there was the New Deal Shoe Repair, run by Louis Szepessy, where the locals and some members of the Bridgeport elite went to have their shoes worked over. When I was about The Kranyiks were serving the town of Fairfield: James Police Chief; Michael Superintendent; Joseph Chief of Volunteers; Julius Lieutenant. In front the author. The author with his two “heroic ”grandmothers Mary Tar Matte Mazalin and Agnes Tobis Krajnyik nine, Grandma Agnes took me down to Weiss' clothing store near St. Stephen's Church and bought me a fine sheepskin coat, undoubtedly a special Hungarian item. But, sheepskin was not what the kids in school were wearing. I suspect that Grandma was disappointed by my lack of enthusiasm. Thirty years later everyone was wearing sheepskin coats at $400 a crack. What comes around, goes around! Yes, there were saloons! Saloons, saloons, and more saloons! They were social centers for the men, and many a wife met her husband at the saloon door on payday, to insure that there would be enough money for food and rent for the coming week ! It was to the saloons of "Little Hungary" ( as the area was also known), that Baron Lajos Ambróczy went - in 1908 to encourage Hungarian nationals to return to the homeland. He traveled incognito, but was suspected rather quickly. In Miklós Papp's saloon, people questioned him hard. And, he had to drink lots of beer to fit in with the group. The Baron sent regular reports to his superiors. But, his efforts to encourage the Hungarians to return to the homeland were of little avail. These Hungarians were impressed with the fact that they and their families were addressed as Mr., Mrs., or Miss. They were even more impressed that they could afford to buy milk, beer, tobacco, and even a newspaper (choice of English or Hungarian, religious or secular). Essentially they said to the Baron, "Thanks, but no thanks". They were here to stay. Every self-respecting Hungarian had a garden - actually two gardens, one for flowers and the other for vegetables. Even the most run-down tenement building on Spruce Street had beautiful flowers in front. It seems that these Hungarians were natural gardeners. Many had been sons and Page 5
