7-9-16 Sat.

It is really important if you have not read last week's blog to do that before you read today's blog, or it won't make sense. I receive such a positive response from last week's blog that I wanted to give you, "The rest of the story" as Paul Harvey would say.

 I wanted to tell you how we got to the United States. Our parents fled from Hungary as the Russians were coming into Budapest during the close of World War II. I was not born yet and my brother was 2 years old. The Russians had formed a ring around Budapest like the letter C and they left the opening toward the West so that if anyone was fleeing from the city they would have to go in that direction.

Our father got the word from people at work that they were leaving. They'd heard of the atrocities the Russians had done during World War II. My father came home and it's obvious that he'd already talked about it with my mom. They packed up the things that they could carry and said goodbye to the relatives. My brother did not want to leave his grandmother and cried on her neck.

Let me stop for a moment and tell you something else. My father lived to be 94 years old. I'd heard this story many times through the years. But when my father was in his 80s I decided to record all this on a video so as not to lose the pertinent facts. So I took my video camera over to his home and as he was sitting in his recliner I videoed him and asked him questions. They were leading questions because I knew the answers but I wanted the entire story to come out. Recently our grandson Samuel did a report on his ancestors and how they came to the United States and this video played an important part because he could actually watch it on the computer and get a lot of great information.

Back to the story. After saying goodbye to the family my father, mother and brother met back at the place of employment and they headed west along with about a dozen people. Most were walking. They had one pickup truck and from what my father said, they had to take the back roads. As described I would assume they were like the type of roads we would call a "firebreak road". These are the roads that are cut to prevent fires from spreading and they are not paved.

 According to our parents they were strafed and bombed. But they survived. They went as far as they could until they ran out of gas. They made it into Austria and they lived in a tent city that housed approximately 1000 people. Our father was an upholsterer and he had brought a large piece of canvas with them which he was able to make a tent type structure. It was very rough going because of the lack of food and facilities.

I'm only hitting the high spots and leaving out a lot of the details. I will tell you that my father went out every day to try and find work. He had brought his hand tools with him and he would go from farmhouse to farmhouse to see if anyone needed there leather harness equipment repaired. He had the hand tools to hand sew the leather. He was paid with a large meal and when he completed the work for the day he received a loaf of bread, some eggs and the most important thing a slab of bacon. Which he brought home to feed his family.

Finally the American army came in and everyone was told to stand with their hands raised and not to show any aggressive movements. As time progressed we were able to live in the large building that my dad used to call the castle. Now it's not the type of castle that we think of as in fairytales. I think I have a picture of it and I will include that.

 
 I do not recognize anybody in the above picture. I can tell you that there were 2 families living in one room. I'm referring specifically to my family and another family. I'm sure that the housing was tight. I would give you the name of the person who ran the building because she was in charge and it was very interesting. I can tell you her name but I can't spell it. Remember they speak German in Austria.

So let's move forward in the story. The war ended in 1945 and I was born in 1946 to give you a little bit of a timeline. I was 3 years old we came to the United States so the information I'm telling you transpired between these years. My parents were friends with a couple. I wanted to give you his name in Hungarian but my voice recognition program does not compute Hungarian. Translated his name is Frank and his wife's name was Kathy. Kathy's mother's name is Margaret. This would be much better if I could print their names in Hungarian but due to my lack of spelling, the English names will have to do. Look at the picture below. In the upper left-hand corner you will see the above mentioned people in the picture was taken in Austria. So the top 2 pictures below are of Frank, Kathy and Kathy's mother Margaret. In the lower right-hand corner you will see a picture To the extreme right of the picture my father, mother, brother and myself. I can tell you some of the other people in the picture but they are not relevant to the story. I will tell you that the couple on the extreme left of that same picture did make it to the United States.

 Do these type of photographs bring back some memories? Everything is so digitalized today.

Now you know the players in the story. My parents really wanted to come to the United States, but the United States offered sanctuary to people who were of higher education like teachers, scientists, lawyers and such. Our father who was an upholsterer did not fall into that category. When they got the word that they could not come to the United States they were crushed. But I remember my father telling me that my mother told him that God will work it out. Do you know what Romans chapter 8 verse 28 says? Do you believe it. Many people say they like this verse. But, do we really believe it, that's the question? That is my father's favorite verse in the Bible. Even before I was a Christian I was a young boy in teenage years my parents had the devotion time and they forced me to read Romans chapter 8 every day. (Child abuse) just kidding. It was very smart of my parents to do so. I have my father's Bible that I used to read from to him every day. I'm deviating from the stories slightly. When her mother died in 1985, I was working at my father's location. He had is upholstering business behind his residence and he allowed me to work there. I would come to work every morning really early and then I would go in at 4 AM and check up on him to make sure is okay. He always wanted me to read some scripture to him. I would read Romans chapter 8, John chapter 1 or other favorite scriptures. I did this till our father died in 2008.

Our parents got the word that they were immigrating to Chile in South America. That's where a lot of people were going too. You went where you were accepted. If I remember correctly it was to Santiago Chile. I'm not exactly sure of the next piece of information but I will tell you that my parents friends Frank and Kathy ended up going to Chile and my parents took care of Kathy's mother Margaret. Now during this time I'm not sure exactly how much time elapsed. But Margaret had a sister who lived in San Diego and her name was Paula Haas. They communicated not by email but by snail mail. Margaret convinced her sister Paula Haas to sponsor my parents to come to the United States, because my parents had been so nice to Margaret.

Back in those days you had to have a sponsor. Someone who guaranteed in writing that you would not go on public assistance. How times have changed!  The good news of course is that Mrs. Haas agreed to sponsor my parents. She has a nice house and she had a little 2 bedroom one bath rental property right next to her house. As it said in the newspaper article we were supposed to get there for Christmas in 1950 but my brother came down with scarlet fever and was kind enough to pass along to me and I got sick to. That's how things are in a family one person gets it and pass it along to another person. It delayed our trip and we ended up coming to the United States and we came on the good ship USS Hershey. I do have a picture of it which I use when I give my testimony, but you can always Google it.

The ship landed in New Orleans. You must remember that my parents spoke no English and yes they "just got off the boat". From what they told me that everybody got seasick on the voyage over except for me. All I want to do is eat. I guess nothing changes. My parents had $20 to their name and what they could carry. I remember my father telling us that he bought some BACON and they ended up eating it raw which I would never do of course. Not now at least. They took the train ride all the way from New Orleans to Los Angeles and then from Los Angeles to San Diego.

Mrs. Paula Haas did not drive. She had a friend of hers meet the train at the train station downtown and pick us up and bring us to her home. I'm not sure how the newspaper got involved with this but they showed up on that day and took the picture that was on the front page the following day. That's why I wanted you to read the story from last week if you missed it. That's how we got to celebrate Christmas in February in 1950.

There are 2 pictures below, the top 1 has my mom on the left, Mrs. Haas in the middle and then her sister Margaret on the right side. My brother is the taller boy in all the pictures. The picture below that is our family and Margaret on the front lawn of Mrs. Hass's home.

The picture below is of my brother and myself in front of the house that we lived in for approximately 4 years. You can tell that we're wearing very stylish clothes. I'm just kidding because I'm very thankful for everything our parents did for us.

 

So now you know the rest of the story. We were supposed to go to Chile and we ended up in the United States where my parents wanted to go to. Romans 8:28.

I know this is been a rather long blog but it's kinda hard to break the story up. I hope you have a great weekend and I hope you'll be in the house the Lord tomorrow.

Maranatha,
Frank

PS. I still miss my girl.