Verhovayak Lapja, 1949 (32. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1949 / Verhovay Journal
PAGE 8 _________________________________________________________________________________ Verhovay Sons of State Representative Louis Churilla Serve as House Pages In Legislature State Representative Louis F. Churilla, (Democrat, East Chicago,) a; member of Branch 130 in East Chicago, Ind., proudly poses with his two sons, Jimmy, 5 and Louis, 7, who had the rare privilege of serving as honorary pages for their father. “They thought is was a good show,” says the newspaper caption under this picture. “The children enjoyed their work as pages for their dad,” writes their mother. And judging from Rep. Churilla’s smile, he certainly enjoyed having them around. April 20, 1949 Northampton Widow's Misfortune Persist — Military Reburial Of Two Sons Recalls Series Of Tragedies, Now Followed By Near-Fatal Accident Of Little Daughter. — Journal ______________________________________________________ 20th Century Economics . . . Once upon a time there was a farmer who raised two chickens, took them to the city, sold them to a factory worker, and with the proceeds brought two shirts. So the farmer had two shirts and the city man had two chickens. Observing- the transaction, the “eradle-to-gfave” security plannertold the farmer he could get* more for his chickens by making them scarcer. He also told the workingman in the factory that he must work fewer hours and get more money for his labor. This would raise the prices on the articles he made so he would have more money with which to buy. So the farmer brought one chicken to the city market. He got as much money for it as he formerly got for two chickens. He felt fine. This was the life! But when he went to buy some shirts, he found that the shirts had also doubled in price, so -—• he got one shirt. Now the farmer has one shirt and the city man has. one chicken, whereas if they had not listened to the pseudo-economist (but had both produced as well as they knew how) they could each have had twice as much. And this, my children, is called “THE MORE ABUNDANT LIFE.” —‘Junior Dotted Line’, Lafayette Life, Big shots are only little shots who keep shooting. —Christopher Motley. It is better to lig-ht a candle than to curse the darkness. —Chinese Proverb. Every man can improve the world. He can improve himself. A Force for Human Progress Dr. Carl T. Compton, chairman of the Research and Development Boai'd of the Military Services, and former President of Massachusetts Institute of Technology, said recently: “Life Insurance is more than an industry; it is a force for civic betterment and human progress. It is an instrument whereby the conscience of a man, upon which his entire civilized development is based, finds concrete expression. Life Insurance in a true sense is an outlet for the civilized man’s sense of responsibility.” An angry man dashed into the editor’s office. “Look here,” he cried, “I wrote a poem about my little son, and began the verse with the words: ‘My son, my pigmy counterpart’.” “Yes?” replied the editor. The poet pointed to the, poem in the paper. “Read that,” he*stormed, “and see what your fool typesetter has done!” The editor read: “My son, my pig, my counterpart.” Passenger: “You’ll bring me down safely, won’t you?” Pilot: “I’ve never left anyone up there yet.” Visitor: “You’ve got a lot of pep for a man nearly 100 years old. How do you get that way?” Ragson Tatters: “I ain’t decided yet. I’m dickering with two or three cereal companies for my endorsement.” If you want a jolt, write down what you accomplished today. If you find life is qmpty, try putting something into 'it.« Just a year ago Joseph Subits, District Manager of Branch 216, Northampton, Pa., wrote the tragic story of the widowed Mrs. Katie Nemeth of Egypt, Pa., a member of Branch 216, who in quick succession lost three sons in military service and a daughter in a fatal accident. The subsequent burial of one of her sons, Vincent Geza Nemeth, gunners mate second class, who dfowned when a launch capsized off the French Riviera, was reported in a later issue of the Journal. The two other brothers, St. Sgt. Frank L. Nemeth, Jr., and Sgt. James J. Nemeth, have been reburied with military honors on Saturday, April 2, 1949, in the parish cemetery of Our Lady of Hungary Church, Northampton, following a solemn requiem mass in the Church. The Northampton United Veterans, For God and Country Post 454 Catholic Wap Veterans, Northampton Post 4714, V.F.W., Donald S. Reinert Post 7293, V.F.W. of Egypt, Pa., and the Greater Post 13, V.F.W. of Allentown, Pa., many relatives, friends and members of Branch 216 took part in the final rites for the two Verhovay heroes. The Allentown Morning Call, featuring the ceremonies, reports that Frank was inducted March 25, 1941, and was killed in action June 8, 1944 while serving with the 2nd Battallion Medical Section of the 12th Infantry Regt., in France. He was born in Northampton. James, a native of Coplay, died September 20, 1944, while serving with Co. E, 502nd Parachute Infantry. He was inducted June 23, 1941. Besides the mother, the brothers are survived by five sisters, Mrs. Joseph Nagy, Allentown, Mrs. Helmut Maier, Catasauqua, Margaret, Theresa and Catherine, at home; three brothers, Joseph, Coplay, Charles, at home, and Stephen, U.S. Army, recently returned from Japan. They were preceded in death by their father, two sisters and two brothers. Another Heartache Three days after the reburial service's that recalled the series of tragedies that had befallen the Nemeth family during the last few years, misfortune struck again. The story is told in the April 6th edition of. the Northampton Morning Call as follows: “Staunch Mrs. Katie Nemeth of Egypt’s Drumhole section had another heartache added yesterday to her burdensome woes. It was just last Saturday that the woman, widowed for 10 years, re-buried two of her three military service-dead sons. In 1947 her daughter had been killed by the accidental blast of a shotgun held by another son. Yesterday her youngest daughter, Catherine, 13, was struck by a light delivery truck in front of the Egypt school. Taken to the Haff hospital, Northampton, where her condition was at first feared critical, Catherine rallied last night. Doctors reported that she is in “serious but not critical condition.” Early X-rays indicated a concussion of the brain, instead of a skull fracture, although the latter has not definitely been ruled out. The police version of the accident: During recess, the girl was playing baseball on the school grounds. A ball was hit beyond the low-walled portion of the Main St. side of the playyard. A companion, Sarah Laub, saw Catherine running alongside the wall, and intent ón the ball, dart out, head down, into the street. At that moment Edward F. Laughlin of Allentown, was driving on the Main St. downgrade, westerly, toward the Wilson St. intersection. The girl ran in front of the truck and he had no opportunity to swerve out of the way.” District Manager Subits, conveying on behalf of the members of Branch 216, their deepest sympathy to Mrs. Nemeth, reports that Ca7 therine has greatly improved but it will take several weeks before she can be discharged from the hospital. To which we can only add: May this be the last misfortune upon the much afflicted heart of this mother who has had more than her share of tragedy and heartbreaking sorrow. We join the members of Branch 216 in sincere sympathy with Mrs. Nemeth in her sorrows . . . Not Frightened This man had the habit of coming home three or four times a week three sheets to the wind, so his wife determined to teach him a lesson. With the aid of a sheet and a floor lamp she made a fair imitation of a ghost. She went in and shook her husband. “Wash thish?” he murmured sottily. “This is the devil,” was the answer. “Shake, old horsh,’ he said. “I married your sister.” “Good morning, doctor. I just dropped in to tell yod how much I benefited from your treatments.” “But you are not one of my patients.” “No, but my uncle was, and I’m his heir.” Customer: “I don’t'believe I’ll buy any of your crackers, Mr. Brown. They tell me mice are always running over them.” Grocer: “That couldn’t be true. The cat sleeps in the barrel every night.” Inflation All Over As the little man crept into the movie theater and took- his seat in the last row, it was- obvious from his doleful expression that he had much on his mind and was sadly in need of recreation. On the screen an old-fashioned melodrama unfolded, a production doubtless mgde long ago an^cl now “re-issued.” Came the scene where the heroine, lured all unsuspecting to the villain’s lair, suddenly realized with horror that his intentions were anything but honorable. Providentially she discovered the handy carving knife. “Stand back, you unspeakable cad,” she cried, brandishing the weapon. “I may be only a poor, weak, friendless woman — but, by Heavens, I shall sell my honor dearly!” “Profiteers,” shouted the troubled little man. “Everywhere you go, it’s high prices.” And with that, he bolted out of the theater and disappeared into the night.
