Fraternity-Testvériség, 2002 (80. évfolyam, 1-4. szám)
2002-10-01 / 4. szám
Page 8 TESTVÉRISÉG ian neighborhood and its events; but they couldn’t forget because the ache, the ache was still there. Others took the opposite tack. They worked hard to preserve their heritage, to teach Hungarian to their children, Csárdás dance steps or a song, and this made them proud. Proud, not only of being Hungarian, but now of being Hungarian- Americans. The ache dulled a little, it was no longer so sharp, but the ache was still there. They became citizens of the United States, took their first return trips to their homeland to see family and friends, to grieve over the graves of their loved ones; and they returned to America, for this was now their home. But the ache would never really disappear. We as a community are now challenged as to how to preserve and promote the vitality of our Hungarian-American community, not just through new immigrants coming to America, but through new means of involvement and commitment from second and third generation Hungar- ian-Americans. The future is exciting, challenging and critical. But as we look to the future, we must never forget the past. For those of us who are ‘56ers, the refugees, the pain, the ache may continue to be dulled, but will always be there. In our hearts and souls, there is a place where we will always know the pain of leaving the land of our birth, our families, and the everyday pleasures of life, for the unknown. We have become part of you, we are truly Ameri- can-Hungarians now, but we—and our children and grandchildren and community—must never, never forget! There was a weed-infested comer of the Kerepesi Cemetery in Budapest where some of those who had died for the revolution were buried. By December of 1956, the revolution was over, but some of the gravemarkers had 1961 and 1962 dates on them. That is because the Communists, claiming to be a government of laws, imprisoned children fifteen and under who had taken part in the revolution, waited for them to become of age, and then hung them. Over two hundred twenty freedom fighters were executed by the Communists. We must never forget. I recently came across a small white envelope with 1956 written on it. My father’s handwriting. Inside the envelope was a piece of paper with the exact time and day that forty-six years ago my family stepped into the unknown. That cold, snowy winter day, when for the third time in two months, they turned towards the west with nothing but a potty seat (for me), a briefcase, a micrometer and vernier caliper (the tools of my father’s trade) and the holy cross they received at their wedding. They were determined to escape. Nearly freezing, never giving up, in increasing danger as the Soviet soldiers started heavy patrolling of the Austro-Hungarian border, they brought us across the border. Six months later on June 4, 1957, we stepped off a rickety old plane in the land of opportunity, eventually settling in Toledo, Ohio. My mother and father, as so many other Hungarians, gave their lives for their children. They left their homeland and a way of life they never forgot, worked night and day to give their children the opportunity and promise of America. Their children, your children and grandchildren continue to contribute to our countless communities. As I look out on the audience tonight, I see so many of you with similar stories. There are many families today with unique stories of their lives in Hungary, their escape across the border, their lives in refugee camps, and their immigration to the United States. We must not lose the stories of the refugee families. We need to know and understand their lives. We must never forget. The word for home is very unique in the Hungarian language. Actually, there are two words itthon, which is “here at home,” and otthon, which can be translated as “there at home.” I, as someone who came here in 1956, thank God for my home here, but so often my heart aches for my home there. I will never forget. Az Istennek köszönöm, hogy ebben a gyönyörű országban itthon vagyok, de sokszor úgy érzem, hogy a szivem megszakad és vágyom az otthonomért. Sose felejtem el. A writer once said: “A country begins to die when they rewrite her history. A nation dies when it forgets it has a history.” WE MUST NEVER FORGET! HRFA ANNUITIES • Low initial investment amounts, as low as $300 to start! • Secure Savings for Retirement • Flexibility in the amount you save and how often you save. • First Year Rate of 6.25%! Compare this to your bank’s C.D.’s, and you’ll see how great it really is!
