Magyar News, 2001. szeptember-2002. augusztus (12. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
2001-12-01 / 4. szám
This photo was take during the visit of the Répási family in Viszló. Michael Kranyik from Fairfield is in the center food, many of us seek out a picnic from time to time . Off we went, across the country, and across the world. Many of us acquired spouses of other ethnic backgrounds, the first generation to do so in numbers. I have the best of both worlds, a lovely wife whose father was Lithuanian, and whose mother was a Bálint. We thought of ourselves as Americans who could trace their ancestry to this little country in Central Europe, but for the most part our focus was on the future. That future meant that we would spend our lives living and working with people of many different origins, persuasions and names. Admittedly, we sometimes wish that we had names which we did not have to spell to others. The Smiths, Jones's and Browns never did. To this day, people ask me to spell my name. I would love to see some of them try to navigate through Zsuzsa Lengyel's Hungarian class! Some of us have tried to preserve a bit of that Hungarian way which we treasure. In our family, we sing "Mennyből az angyal" at _ Christmas, just the way Grandma Agnes and Uncle Frank (Ferencz) did long ago. My friends, Joe Uhl, Jack Szepessy, and John Lucas and I practice the language over coffee, trying to stump each other with some esoteric word or a piece of Magyar doggerel. We realize that we are probably the last generation in our line to speak the language and recall the Hungarians". We think that is a pretty special thing. After all, if your name is Smith or Jones, you are likely not to be able to carry on a conversation in a language spoken by fewer than 14 million people in the whole world! Finding Roots One of my great experiences in life has been finding my Hungarian roots. In 1978, Louise and I, accompanied by Uncle Mike (Mihály) and Aunt Margaret (Margit), visited Hungary with the University of Bridgeport group tour. It was the first tour, as I recall, which visited from the U.S. Driven by an interest to meet relatives with whom contact had been broken since just before World War II, off we went in a rented car "Lada" to Miskolc and environs. Aunt Margaret, who was bom and raised as a girl in Királyhelmecz, now just over the border in Slovakia, spoke fluent Hungarian, and could be counted on to problemsol ve as the need arose. We visited her relatives in Kazincbarcika, for the most part an industrial city with apartment buildings, and enjoyed their hospitality, including food which reminded us of when we were growing up. Then, off we went to find Viszló, Grandma Agnes's birthplace. The Lada chugged its way out of Miskolc, north to Edelény and then Szendrő. As we crossed the Sajó River, my Uncle Mike mentioned that the family had a dog named "Sajó" when he was a boy. Now we knew the origin of the name. Beyond Szendrő we traveled country roads to Rakaca (I was reminded of my Grandma Agnes's letters to relatives which were addressed "utosó Posta Rakaca") .Beyond Rakaca the sign for Viszló appeared. We took pictures of each other standing by the sign. Then, on we went to the village. I stopped the car by a house where an elderly woman was taking a cow to the bam. In my very basic Hungarian, I introduced myself and uttered the code words "Tóbis, Kondás, Fiaskó and Répási", all Children taking "driving lessons ” of those days ancestral names, at which she smiled widely and directed us to the first house at the edge of the village. She suggested that I repeat my little spiel to the resident of the house. So off we went and I repeated my message to an older woman who came to the door. No sooner had I finished than she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me across the street, all the while calling to the neighbors. Then she stopped abruptly in front of a house, and said that this was the house in which my Grandmother was bom. We all were quite taken, and I admit to breaking out in tears. Soon the relatives appeared. They were Répási's living in the old homestead, first cousins of my father. It must have been like Martians landing, because no one had been there from our family since before World War II. I am sure that there was culture shock on both sides! We were ushered into the living room, and all the goodies came out. We were busy trying to reestablish the relationship, and as yet I Hungarian players at Rákóczi Hall (circa 1903) getting ready to go on stage. The four players on the left (X) are the authors grandparents and cousins Page 5
