The Eighth Hungarian Tribe, 1982 (9. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1982-06-01 / 6. szám
Page 14 THE EIGHTH HUNGARIAN TRIBE Jane, 1982 Ethnic Festivals - In Roebling Sunday - June 27 In the rough old times when a person was making $10 a week and feeling lucky to have a job, people found inexpensive ways to have a good time. They needed a place where they could meet their neighbors and make new friends. They needed a place where they could listen and dance to good music. They needed a place where they could enjoy themselves. Some people played cards or checkers, there were pony rides, fun games and singing. There was lots of laughing and talking. In a word — they needed a picnic. One of the popular picnic areas was the Hathazi Farm right off Rt. 130. On Sundays, in July and August, there was a regular parade of people walking up Rt. 130 to the Hathazi’s Farm. It was the time for summer social life, and there were great picnics. It was a family affair. Most people brought their own goodies, which sometimes was only a bottle of kool aid. The biggest attraction was the dance floor, an area about 30’x30’. The floor was nothing fancy. Oil was rubbed into it to weatherproof it. Saw dust covered it, and the dancers would fly around. The gypsy music was usually played by a couple of men. Another great attraction was the bowling alley. The Häthazi boys would prepare the dirt alley by sprinkling it down with water. On Saturday they would brush it down with a paste made out of cow manure. By Sunday it was as hard as a rock and very smooth. The bowling ball was made out of the same material now used, but was the size of a big soft ball without any holes. The pins were wooden with rubber bumpers. In front of the alley, there was a wooden plank about 6” long on which you slid down to the foul line as you threw the ball. As you walked toward the picnic area after church, you could smell bacon bread in the making. Usually there was a keg of beer donated by a parishioner. When half empty the cry would go out for another donor. Prohibited or not, you couldn’t have a good picnic without beer. The moonshine was hidden in the creek and you saw a big smile on the men’s faces as they returned to play cards or to dance. The children had races and games, many which are still used today. A greased-up-pig catch was the biggest laugh, especially if some of the men had been down to the creek too often. Chickens and other things were raffled off and the money given to the church. A picnic at Hathazi’s was something special. Another popular picnic area was that belonging to the Hungarian Reform Church on Hoftner Tract. The tall beautiful trees made it a great shady area during the hot summers. The church sponsored a couple picnics every year when the ladies would turn out their finest foods. Emma Peters remembers how the ladies used to stand over the grill with tears running from their eyes — too much smoke! This picnic area was also the place where the V.F.W. and the boy scouts had their annual picnics. Two bible schools used the area for children during the summer, the Hungarian Reform and the Maranatha Baptist Church. One year the bible school put on a pageant about the Good Samaritan. What happens at any good picnic is a small picture of what might happen to the world if only we could start a good worldwide picnic. Peace and understanding comes when people talk to each other, when they get to know their neighbor’s concerns and problems, when we exchange good feelings over a glass of wine or while eating a delicious stuffed cabbage. A good picnic should give us that warm reeling of togetherness, kindness and concern for one another. A good picnic should pull us out of our daily anguish and project us into an atmosphere of surprise, delight and expecting even better things to happen. It should make us better people.
