MEMOIR OF AN IMIGRANT FROM HUNGARY
A summary by the author Emmerich Koller
On November 4,
1956, just as the church bell of Pernau, a.k.a. Pornóapáti, announced the noon
hour, I stepped across the border into Austria, thereby making the first step in
a difficult journey that would eventually take my family and me to America. In
my memoir, Good Dogs Do Stray, I describe the intolerable conditions that forced
my family to leave communist Hungary and what happened to us from that day
forward. Before coming to that life-altering event, however, I dedicate more
than half of my book to exploring the history of my native German-Hungarian
village of Pernau, the surrounding region and the village life itself that
shaped and formed my siblings and me.
During that first cold winter of 1956-57, our new life as refugees was marked
by homesickness, uncertainty, and general misery. The Bürgermeister of
Oberbildein took pity on my struggling family by giving my father odd jobs. One
day as he was cutting down bushes along the Pinka between Ober- and Unterbildein,
a woman who walked past him said, “Ein guter Hund bleibt zu Haus.” – “A
good dog stays at home.” In my book, I show that her advice was more malicious
than accurate and I validate all who ever strayed from their homeland and found
a new home in a foreign land. Aside from delivering a simple message, my most
fervent hope is to delight my readers with stories that I experienced myself or
are part of the Koller family lore.
My narration begins with Easter Sunday 1945. The Russians are coming! At about
ten in the morning, people flee to their cellars and bunkers as fierce
explosions rock the village; houses collapse, people die. The retreating Germans
care little about the loss of innocent life or village property if their shells
from nearby Austria can slow down the pursuing Red Army. A horrific explosion in
our yard awakens me, little Emmerich, to the world around me. Smoke and dust
have barely settled when an officer knocks on the door and asks for needle and
thread. Like a proper gentleman, he returns everything a short time later.
Relief sweeps over the entire family. Not for long. The dreaded horde follows.
After the war, life in the village returns to a semblance of normalcy for a few
years before the communist plague destroys the traditions and way of life
established by good, hard working people over the course of centuries. My
siblings and I belong to the last generation that experienced the old village
life before it disappeared forever. With my descriptions, I hope to conjure up a
vanished past and pass it on to future generations.
To get a flavor of what village life was like, we accompany the Kleinrichter or
kisbiró with his drum on his appointed round, and take an intimate tour of the
old village. We hear the sound of the trumpet that summons the pigs for their
daily dig and wallow in the woods. We watch with delight as our seasonal friends,
the storks, feed their hungry chicks in their nest on top of the rectory’s
chimney. As we work in the fields, we are entertained by the call of the cuckoo
bird and the golden oriole. On our way home at dusk, we are rendered speechless
by the beauty of a nightingale’s serenade. We can’t get enough of the sweet
smell of hay, of our own wine grown in our own vineyard, the Krapfen mom made on
Fat Tuesday, or the irresistible smell of fresh bread that grandma just pulled
out of the bread-baking oven. We meet Seppl the “village idiot” as he digs
out stumps in the forest and we feel sorry for him when he is duped into
carrying the red flag at the head of the May Day parade. We walk into the
one-room schoolhouse where a little boy forms his first letters on a slate board
and are shocked when he gets a serious beating from his teacher for forging his
father’s signature in block letters. We attend Mass in the village church
where a serious ambition in a child’s mind is formed. We discover Shaekl, the
family cow, who has an endearing personality and a mind of her own. We walk into
the dark forest near the Koller house and sense that the forest isn’t just a
collection of trees but a treasured friend with a generous soul. We meet the
roving gypsies who are feared but also pitied for their poverty and sad
condition. We are concerned as cast-offs of the war become dangerous toys for
children, and we hold our breath as we watch a lad walk into the minefield by
the border.
This is just the beginning. The story goes on with many poignant and humorous
tales from a deprived childhood, an old-fashioned upbringing, and a long and
improbable journey from a simple village in the Pinka river valley to the
sophisticated metropolis of Chicago. Good Dogs Do Stray is a narrative blend of
a young person’s wonderment and the seasoned reflection of an older man.
I tell the true story of my family, but woven into the family’s history is my
own metamorphosis from poor country boy to seminarian, to college graduate, to
member of a religious order, to teacher. Setbacks were always followed by
progress because we dared to transcend conventional norms and boundaries. Still,
it took a long time to embrace the concept that it is acceptable for good dogs
to stray.
For any questions about the book or to order a copy, contact the author Emmerich
Koller through his webpage: www.emmerichkoller.com
.
About the author
Emmerich, a.k.a. Imre Koller, was born in 1942 in Pernau/Pornóapáti, Hungary.
Two years after his family’s escape to Austria in 1956, Emmerich entered the
seminary at Sankt Rupert, Bischofshofen, to study for the priesthood. In 1960,
the Kollers immigrated to America and settled in Chicago. Emmerich left the
seminary in 1966 and became a German teacher. Today he lives in Winnetka with
wife Ann and youngest son Andrew. He holds a BA in Philosophy, an MA in German
and an MA in Education. During his teaching career of 36 years, he received
several awards: The Distinguished Teacher Award at President Clinton’s White
House (1993), The Certificate of Merit from the Goethe Institute in New York
(1989), two Outstanding Teacher Awards from the University of Chicago (1985,
2001).
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