Fraternity-Testvériség, 1955 (33. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1955-06-01 / 6. szám
6 TESTVÉRISÉG Minding Our Own Business Having had the opportunity to participate in the conference of the Pittsburgh District, I think it is proper to jot down a few observations and remarks about this friendly and successful gathering. First of all, I considered Pittsburgh as my American “home town” ever since I arrived on the hospitable shores of this continent, exactly 41 years ago. I can never forget that hot July day when I arrived in the “smoky city”. My arrival was not unheralded. My ship dropped anchor the day before in New York. The Rev. Zoltán Ku- thy, pastor of the local church whom I saw the same afternoon, sent a telegram to the Rev. Alexander Kalassay in Pittsburgh that his long- awaited new assistant will be in Pittsburgh 10 A. M. next day. Rev. Kalassay was out of town, but the telegram was duly delivered, — and two emissaries from the church were dispatched to meet me at the station. I arrived safely and on time. When the crowd of my fellow passengers disappeared, I noticed a young and an older man in the almost deserted concourse, who eyed me with some interest, but did not approach me. I had no distinguishing mark on me and probably did not look too greenhornish, — so we avoided each other. They were Andrew Hornyak, the real founder of the Pittsburgh church and Alex Kalassay, Jr., a theological student and son of my future superior. After some wandering about, I bought a map of the city, traced on it the red line indicating the streetcar routes and have found the one leading to Johnston Avenue in Hazelwood. In about a half hour I arrived at the foot of Johnston Avenue, and walking up the street I found the church. With a strange feeling and great relief, I read the Hungarian words above the entrance: “Isten hozott”. Those same words greeted me again when I entered the church now, 41 years later. Mrs. Kalassay, my future m(oth©r-in-law greeted me with sincere hospitality, but as later confessed, she had some doubts about me, for the simple reason that it was impossible to believe that, having arrived in America only a day ago, I was in Pittsburgh the next day and found my way unassisted to that remote section of the bustling metropolis. My feat was considered as a minor miracle for some time. I am still proud of it. It was summer school time and the church basement was filled with children. Many of those children are still faithful members of the church. I drove up to the church the same way now, with the same peculiar feeling. The neighborhood is, of course, familiar. There are the same churches on the street, (except the Presbyterian, which was built after my arrival) little changed by the bygone decades. More houses on the street, especially across from the church and further up the street. On the hill beyond, which was a rocky plateau at that time, overgrown with scrawny bushes, there is a new community with modern homes. There is a splendid school building, and the bumpy cobblestones gave way to a smooth asphalt road. The most pleasant change is that the trees are big and leafy, almost touching each other across the street, giving the street that delightful cathedral-like appearance we so often see in my present home town, Washington. During the four decades many familiar faces disappeared from the congregation, but I was surprised to recognize so many of the old timers who seem to defy nature’s laws, being still hale and hearty after so many years, foremost among them Mrs. George Balia, who as a young girl almost 65 years ago was among the charter members of the congregation, and her sister, Mrs. John Hibo. Faithful, sweet souls whose only spiritual home is still their beloved church! I met several of my old co-workers in church work, elders and who were then members of the younger set, some of them already grandparents. I had the opportunity to visit my old friend, Alexander Toth in his home. He and his wife were the first couple married in the present church building, 52 years ago. And they have been members of our Federation ever since. I was deeply touched by the misfortune of Mrs. Toth and fondly hope that God listened to the devout prayer we said beside her sick-bed. Rev. Harangi took me to the home of these faithful souls and across the street to the home of Juliska Papp, who used to be one of the outsanding pupils of the church school. Her son will go to college soon. I always liked to brag about the splendid church attendance of the Pittsburgh congregation, emphasizing — which was true — that in my recollection there never was an empty seat at services. Of course, we had only one, the Hungarian service during those years. Now they have two. I preached at the English ser- (continued to page 8)
