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THE BURGENLAND BUNCH NEWS - No. 235 September 30, 2013, © 2013 by The Burgenland Bunch All rights reserved. Permission to copy excerpts granted if credit is provided. Editor: Thomas Steichen (email: tj.steichen@comcast.net) Our 17th Year. The Burgenland Bunch Newsletter is issued monthly online. It was founded by Gerald Berghold (who retired Summer 2008 and died in August 2008). |
| Current Status Of The BB: * Members: 2180 * Surname Entries: 7252 * Query Board Entries: 5210 * Staff Members: 17 |
This newsletter concerns: 1) THE PRESIDENT'S CORNER 2) MEIN TAGEBUCH, 5-20 SEPT 1983, Part II (by Fred Schneidinger) 3) A CURIOUS GROUPING OF “RELATIVES” 4) MEMORIES OF PERNAU AND IMMIGRATION TO AMERICA (by Paul J. Wiesler) 5) MY IRELAND TRIP: CONNECTIONS TO BURGENLAND? 6) HISTORICAL BB NEWSLETTER ARTICLES: - RAX & RAX BERGEN 7) ETHNIC EVENTS 8) BURGENLAND EMIGRANT OBITUARIES (courtesy of Bob Strauch) |
1) THE PRESIDENT'S CORNER (by Tom Steichen)  After
the Bits and Pieces in my President's Corner below, we continue
with Part II of Fred Schneidinger's Tagebuch (Day
Book / Diary), written during his first trip to Burgenland some 30 years ago in September. The
diary was quite long so I split it into two parts; the first ran in July's newsletter and the
second herein, thus surrounding the 30th anniversary of his trip.
Our second article comes in response to a message from Rita Oswald Grace, who
noted something Curious about a group of "Relatives." Have a read and see what
you think.
Left unmentioned was a new availability target date (if there is one), but it is good that
preservation and repair efforts are underway. It is my understanding that there are duplicates
for many of the books so data from badly damaged pages, like above, may still be included.
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2) MEIN TAGEBUCH, 5-20 SEPT 1983, Part II (by Fred Schneidinger)  Ed
Note: BB member Fred Schneidinger, of Schwenksville, PA, wrote to say he still had "the
diary from 30 years ago September when I visited my aunt and uncle in Vienna and Rotenturm;
it might be a good feature for the September issue if you think the membership would be
interested in that. I was a just a wide-eyed 20 year old Drexel student in Europe at that
time!"Well, I did think it would be of interest but, because it is quite long, the first part was presented in the last newsletter (July 2013, No. 234) and the second part is provided below. Part I told of Fred's transit to Europe and his time in Vienna and Budapest. Part II of the diary begins when he first visits his ancestral village of Rotenturm in Oberwart and takes us through his return home. A first visit to an ancestral village is always a special event—too often, a once-in-a-lifetime event. Fred tells me, however, that he subsequently returned in 1985 as a single man, then again in 1992 and 1994 with his wife, and finally in 2004 with his wife and son. His parents also visited in 1987, before Loisl and Relli died. In addition, Fred's father visited Vienna twice in 1953 and 1954 but, because he was in the military and Burgenland was then under Soviet control, he did not feel it wise to visit Rotenturm.  Fred
notes that, "Geographically, we haven't moved all that much since the 'big move', my
father moving from Ambler to Lansdale to Harleysville when I was 14, and finally me to
Schwenksville [all in PA near Philadelphia] when I got married in 1991." Of his
emigrant ancestors, great-grandfather Josef died of TB in 1914, just 7 years after
emigrating. Great-grandmother, Ema (Fassl) Schneidinger, raised their child, Frederick, and
survived until 1952. Josef's brother, Johann (Loisl's father), was lovesick and returned to
Burgenland, only to die in a WW-I field hospital in 1917.Fred also requests that you readers try to help him solve a "family mystery," which comes up in his diary on September 18th. I'll let you read Fred's complete text before I comment further on this mystery. Here is Part II of the transcript of Fred's 1983 diary....  Sept 14, 1983, Tuesday Yesterday I shook the Pope's hand. Today, though, I went back in time to the Burgenland's Rotenturm where all Schneidinger's and Fassl's came from. It was a good ride over. We went with a Klosterneuberg Schneidinger, who isn't a direct ancestor or relative of Loisl's and me.  The
roads were good (Loisl in his 74th year was going over 80 mph on the autobahn!!). We got
there after a stop in Oberwart. There we met other Schneidingers who stayed in Austria. I
first went with Relli to the castle in their back yard, where Nicholas Fassl worked for the
Count. It was all boarded up; the Russians did a job on it during their stay from '45-'55.
But I got a piece of the facade as a souvenir. After, the local family made a big lunch of
pork and noodles. The old lady there was a Schneidinger (she's 81). She made the meal. There
was a little boy there who, I think, sensed I was a foreigner, because he kept looking at
me. I gave him one of my half dollars I brought along. "Danke," he said. Then Relli
and I and the Klosterneuberg Schneidinger drove to the Iron Curtain, which is only 20
minutes away. I have always been preoccupied with this symbol of inhumanity and wanted a
closer look. I got it (about 2 feet away). I took pictures and pondered the whole thing a
while. A field cut in half, a tractor on the other side, a man driving it, harvesting corn
for his country. A tractor on this side, a man drives it, harvesting corn for his country.
Why put a wall between the two men? Why build towers or fences to keep the man on the East
in? I don't know; the whole thing beats the hell out of me! I pray that there will someday
never be such a barrier that divides mankind.Back in Rotenturm we went to another relative's house (Halper). It was more modern than the first. The girls there were pretty corn-fed from the looks of them! Then we went back to the original house and I met another girl relative who just got back from teaching kindergarten up at the school. She's about my age and kind of nice looking. She was the only one who could speak English but she was nervous. She did good, though, and we went up the hill to the church to see if the priest there would dig up some old Schneidinger records for us. He was very busy.  Earlier
I saw the Schneidinger and Fassl homesteads. They were very small; no wonder Josef and John
and Emma left home for America! I took many photos. When we got back from the church, I took
a photo of the whole Schneidinger family there. The town is very quaint and the church and
graveyard very well kept. There weren't any direct relatives in the graveyard. It's funny,
the Schneidingers there all picked out Dad as a prominent Schneidinger in the photos ("Er
ist ein Schneidinger"). They are very warm and friendly people and, when an American
Schneidinger visits their hamlet, it's a big day. I have their address so I can write. The
old lady motioned to me to write to her from America.It's such a shame, there seems to be so many widows in the town in their 50's. Many men were lost during WW-II. I know for a fact one of the ladies there lost her love. We think of the Germans and Austrians as bad guys too often. One gets another perspective while in a kitchen with the husband-wife photo there -- he is wearing his swastika proudly... who's fault was it? Surely not the Americans. And not the common German folk either. They were deceived by their leaders just like the farmer is on the other side of the Iron Curtain. We must make the following assumption: Nazi Germany = Soviet Russia. When we do, we can act accordingly. It was a sad goodbye for me -- one of saddest while on Austrian soil. I had only known them for about 8 hours but I felt they were kin (and by the looks of some of the faces there, I'm sure they are). I met the people who John [Fassl Jr.] stayed with a few years ago and, if that lady didn't look like John, I don't know who does. It's the kind of town I wouldn't mind living in. In the church, I knelt down alone and said a prayer: 75 years ago God delivered our family from this little town to a strange new world of America. I prayed that he would deliver us again safely from age to age. We are a small family and a rare name. But I've discovered much about it in the past few years. Goodbye, Rotenturm. Everyone kisses me goodbye. And the girl, what was her name? Franciska. Somehow we were related. I knew it. What a small world it is! Goodbye, yes I'll write! Goodbye. Today I went "back home." And yesterday I touched the Pope. I think I would have come to Austria to do just one of those things, or to taste the good food; what a good land this is; why did you leave, Josef??? Sept 15, 1983, Wednesday Today was a bit less of a day than the last two. I went to Klosterneuberg with Loisl and  Relli
(and also Kahlenburg, where we had lunch on the hill). We visited some cousins in
Klosterneuberg. It's really beautiful up there. The town overlooks Wien and the Danube. The
Vienna Woods is there, too. We got back here about 7. I wish I could get back to Rotenturm
for another day but it doesn't look too good. Tonight I strolled alone through Vienna,
looking, thinking. It's all going by too fast. I want to grab some moments and hold them.
Soon I came upon the Stadtpark and I heard music. Upon reaching a clearing, I squinted in
disbelief. A palace overlooking dinner tables and an orchestra in a rotunda playing Johannes
Strauss. And many people waltzing. Ah, yes, Wien. It's a dream in many ways; a very pleasant
dream.Sept 16, 1983, Thursday Today the weather wasn't as nice. Now the rain is tapping on my window. But tomorrow promises to be good, so they say. I will go back to Rotenturm "an der Pinka" tomorrow. Things fell together that way. I wanted to spend some more time in that little hamlet ever since I left it Wednesday. I got a train schedule today; the theatre for tomorrow night was cancelled leaving us a free day; so -- prsst -- off I go to the Burgenland. I'll spend tomorrow night there. Loisl said tonight that it must be great to be young (He said, "When you're married, one dollar becomes a half dollar!"). It's great to be young. I hope I die before I get old. Today, at Schönbrunn Palace, I met an American guy about my age who was traveling alone through Europe for 2 1/2 months now. All countries; East Germany, Czechoslovakia, Italy, Spain, France, England, Yugoslavia, Greece... yes, that's great, but you can only do it in style when you're young. I'll come back here. I want to see Canada and the West as well. In some ways, I don't want to be tied down. But it is the price you pay. For now, its too dear. Today, Schönbrunn. And it was beautiful. We saw 70 rooms in 1 1/2 hours and the Palace has 400! I have mixed emotions about royalty. In some ways I see it as a waste of the sweat of the common man. But it does inspire culture and that's good. The costs of that culture are high though. England loves it's royalty but here in Central Europe, royalty is all but gone. And I look towards America. Sometimes it seems so bland with its secularism and "republicism" but I don't know if I'd change it if I could. We're such a diversified people that perhaps we need a government "color blind" and indifferent; I don't know, but I think a lot. Tonight, Loisl and I went to the Opera. He loves it. "When the Americans leveled our Opera House in '45, we Austrians shed tears," he said. But now they have their music again. And do they have it. This puts American shows in their place. It was great. And I'm not so theatre-oriented, myself. I'd rather sit around a wine garden and drink and talk. Sunday with Peter. I haven't seen much of my cousin during my stay and I'm very disappointed. I haven't seen his mom at all. She is my Aunt. There's some problems, I guess. Loisl is not well, I don't think. He had a hard time climbing stairs tonight (they eat too much!). "I'll be in the grave by the time you come back to Vienna with your wife," he said. I hope not. Sept 17, 1983, Friday It's coming up on 11 am and I'm on a train headed for Oberwart, which is near Rotenturm. It's cloudy out but this afternoon it might be sunny. I've been on the train for over an hour now. From Wien to Wiener Neustadt was a fast train but at Wiener Neustadt a diesel engine hooked up to us and now it's very slow, stopping at every little town, but the scenery is beautiful. Since I couldn't see the Alps, this was the next best thing. I can actually see the foothills of the Alps on the right side. Otherwise there are many quaint towns. Now we're in the hills going through tunnels and over high bridges. It's sort of like Northern Pennsylvania except for the buildings. I can see the Eastern influence in some of the buildings. We're not too far from the Hungarian border and some of the towns are actually ethnically Hungarian, but after the war the border fell in their favor. Now it's more than just a border. In Austria, the East (Hungary), the North (Czechoslovakia) and the South (Yugoslavia) are all communist so the country is really hemmed in. They are a lucky nation. I am still not sure how they're so prosperous. From what I gather, their major industries are (1) Steel, (2) Timber and (3) Tourism. The latter is important for them. This slow train ride is like a journey back in time (Wednesday, the car was rather uneventful and the Klosterneuberg Schneidinger talked too much; she isn't wrapped too tight.) Indeed, Uncle John took a cattle train, probably along this line and to Hamburg when he emigrated to America. And now, 75 years later, here I am coming back. Who would think? But why did they leave this beautiful land? It's 10 pm now and I'm ready to go to sleep here in Burgenland and I still don't know why the Schneidingers left this beautiful land, but now I have a better insight to the history of this province and also have a very interesting story to tell about the Schneidinger heritage. This short time in Rotenturm was worth it. I needed some more time to ask questions and just look around and think some more on the train tomorrow. Sept 18, 1983, Saturday We're in Oberwart now. It's just getting light. The train picked me up in Rotenturm at 6:15 am after me and Francisca "drove" to the Bahnhof on our bikes. I was up at 5 am and her mother made me breakfast. Yesterday, I mostly walked around the town and also a nearby lake, taking photos. It's a quaint little town where everybody knows everybody. But it's pitifully small; last night we went to the Gasthaus in town and I expected a good crowd on a Saturday night at 9 pm. But there were only 2 men there, talking to the old lady host, who didn't charge us for a beer and an orange juice. Now I'm on a slow train out of this land and I'm trying to piece everything together that Francisca's mother told me. She was old; 61 to be exact. She had a son 42 and her youngest daughter is 16. Her first husband was a big Nazi (in the SR) and her second doesn't live with her anymore. (There's a lot of bastards in these small towns, I'm afraid.) She was born a Schneidinger and explained to me how we were related. We are all cousins to some degree. But what was an "Adeleaguer"? She mentioned that word a lot and it just didn't register in my limited German vocabulary list. "Nobility," Franciska read out of her dictionary. That even confused me more. The Schneidingers in America (much less Rotenturm) were far from rich. But it seems they once were wealthy landowners in Burgenland. What happened? There was a "fund." A letter "with Schneidingers named on it," she said. In 1800 everything was OK. Franz S[chneidinger] was the father and had at least 2 sons: Michael and Johann. They and their wives and children were to inherit the "fund." (Michael is my ancestor and Johann is Franciska's.) But by 1860, things weren't too good. The sons were lazy it seems and drank too much. The country was wrecked by high inflation. It took a wheelbarrow full of Schillings to buy anything. And by the time my grandfather's father was born, the land and fund were devalued. My great-grandfather came to America for lack of work. "But his name was still on the letter," she insisted.  By
that time, however, the letter wasn't of great value. But it existed up until Austria was
thrown into a dark period in the history of Europe. Hitler invaded Austria in 1938. The
Russians occupied it afterwards. Both hated aristocracy for the same reasons. But they were
determined to cope, because land doesn't just fly away, you know. I guess it was a
combination of personal problems and world problems. For the Schneidingers, today, nothing
comes easy. In Rotenturm, they live in an old house with a woodstove and no water in the
toilet. Franciska and her mom live on $250/month. In America, we're working hard to live
well. And in Wien, they're getting by. "America, Wien and Rotenturm," she said. The
remaining Schneidingers live on.By the time her husband held this letter, he was a little crazy in "the head," she said (didn't you have to be to be a big Nazi?! He fought the British). In fear of the SS finding the letter, he tore it up and threw it away. Well, I just changed trains in Friedburg and it's good because my pen cooled off a little bit. What can I say? That's the story. How credible? Well, I do have documents that say the Schneidingers were landowners in 1800. Now something had to happen. And now I'm not going back in time, but head first into it. Each hamlet is closer to Vienna and in Vienna I have but a few more hours. The winds outside are blowing chilly and cold, the first signs of winter. This Schneidinger has to get back home to Harleysville and get back to work. Yes, this trip has been the biggest thing to come along yet for me. But I don't want it to be the biggest thing. There's so much to do and such a short life. But if my life would pass away now, I could say I was content. Drexel's a pain in the ass sometimes but I can live with it if I can change things around a bit. I was pleased with my grades Summer term. And I'm happy with my co-op prospects too. I don't know where I'll live this fall term but that doesn't matter. I'm going to do my best where ever I am. I think things are going to be alright. I hope... 10:30 pm now. I'm in this bed, probably for the last time. I've grown used to this place somehow and I don't want to leave yet. But once I'm on the train I guess I'll be anxious to get home to the "other" family. I got home here at about 10 [am] and we went to Karlskirche for mass. After we got back, we ate and then I lounged around for a while. I was tired. Relli began talking about history and how, when she was in school back in Czechoslovakia, she did well. She is rather learned, partly book-learned and partly experience-learned, for she saw Hitler go into Czechoslovakia in '38 and at first welcomed him, for "the Germans in Czechoslovakia were the niggers of America," she said. But she is very open about the whole thing and anti-Nazi, anti-Communist. "The Americans and British still don't understand the war," she said. "You have to have been there. Get into politics and learn German, Fred," she said. "Then you can listen to my story and write my book for me." I told her I'd like to learn German but I didn't have the time. And, as for Poli Sci, there's no $$ in it. Should I tell her about my CIA job? I thought. I decided not. It might close some doors. We went to Peter's and I met Amalia S. [Schneidinger, Peter's mother] for the first time. She seemed nice. We went to a wine garden on the Danube. Peter is very smart and interested in our US space shuttle. His girlfriend is alright. I said goodbye to Peter and invited him to America. Then Relli and I went to her cousin's. He's about 60 and lost his legs on the Russian front during the war. He owns a Gasthaus. We all played cards (Relli's good) and there was a German girl there who spoke excellent English. The older women and one younger one spoke about the war and she translated. It was a nice night. The people here are so friendly, never stuffy. Sept 19, 1983, Sunday It's now my last day in Österreich. I was up about 9, had breakfast and went out walking in the town for the last time in a while. I bought Relli a book and Loisl two tape cassettes. That's the least I could do. I'm going to try and stash some Schillings around the house before I leave. When I got home we went to Donau Park. There's a big tower there where you can sit at a table and watch the city. No one around you. Then we took a train ride around the Park. The new UN is there. I said goodbye to most everyone now. I'm getting kind of depressed. I know America and all there isn't so bad to go back to, but I feel I haven't spent enough time here with these, my people. I'm getting a lump in my throat and fighting back tears sometimes. It's hard to say goodbye and thank you. I walked around outside for a while. I don't want this to be the last of Wien! 3:45 pm: The train just pulled out, I just said goodbye and I'm on my way back to the USA. It hurts to say goodbye very much because Loisl isn't in the best of health and, if I don't return soon, I'll never see him again. But that's the way it is, I guess. In a few minutes, I'll be over it, for I have much to tell my loved ones back in America. This trip was a rewarding experience; I'll never forget it. If I had to do it over, I wouldn't do a thing different. I'm not used to things going so well. Even with the language barrier, I learned a lot, especially from Relli. She is very intelligent but, at the same time, very nice and down to earth. Loisl displays the old Schneidinger temper, but what are you going to do? Now I'm on a fast night train to Frankfurt and I hope to get some sleep. I'm pretty tired. It's been a long two weeks in some ways. Sept 20, 1983, Tuesday I'm bored to death on Tuesday morning. I got to the airport at about 8:30. You know how I hate airports. I'm reading my "Zeitung" and Time magazine to pass the time. I slept OK last night despite being interrupted by conductors, new people in my compartment and a border guard. The train was very fast. I made the Frankfurt RR Station - Airport Connection very easily. I've got a long wait and a long ride. Relli packed me some sandwiches and some Czech and Burgenland cake. This place is crawling with Americans so I don't have to worry about my German any more. I wish I was still in Vienna. Or in America. But I hate this in-between bullshit. I did have a good conversation with an Indian Embassy official in my compartment this morning. But now it's just Time magazine 'till I get back home again. I just turned my watch back to Philadelphia time so it's 10:30 am all over again. Really. It's 4:30 pm German time, and we just took off. It was a long wait in the airport. I read a lot. Relli packed me a lot of food so I'm OK. I stashed 500 Schillings in their car last night ($25) with an envelope that read: "Vielen Dank. Ich "Love" Österreich und Osterreichers!" or "Many thanks. I love Austria and Austrians." It was the best way to sum up the trip with the little German I know. Now I'm going home. But first a stop in Newfoundland where we refuel and walk around a bit. In Philadelphia, I have a ride home since I met someone from Harleysville. That's a break. I wasn't looking forward to waiting around in another airport for a limo to Kulpsville [a town near Harleysville]. I spent about $800 for this trip. Not bad. It was well worth it in many ways. Someday, hopefully, I'll return. I have a lot of gifts for everyone and sent postcards to everyone. Now they are coming around selling headsets for the movie today on the plane: "Officer and a Gentleman." No thanks, I'll say. I guess it was winter when we went to see that... how time goes by. I don't like to look behind me too much and dwell on the past and all of its shortcomings. Rather, I like to look forward, especially to a vacation like this. But now that's over and I'll have to be satisfied with the smaller things in life, which can be just as nice. A walk through the woods; a ride on the horse; a good time in the city; a bike ride; all with someone I enjoy being with... it's good to be going home to America! [Ed: As to the family mystery, Fred tells me that he remains curious about the nature of the "fund" and the "letter" mentioned in his text on September 18 in paragraphs 2-6. In those paragraphs, he mentions a phonetically-spelled word, "Adeleaguer." My speculation is that this word may be "Adelungen," meaning "raised to nobility." This would be reasonably consistent with the translation of "nobility" given by Francisca's mother. The "fund" would likely be a "Fund," i.e., a "finding." My further speculation is that the "finding" was an old letter that once conferred nobility on earlier family members. It would be reasonable to assume that such a letter would be dangerous during the Nazi takeover, which may explain why it was destroyed. If anyone can shed further (or better) light on this mystery, Fred would be interested in hearing what you think. Please write me and I will share with Fred.] |
3) A CURIOUS GROUPING OF “RELATIVES” It is well-known that a common phenomenon among Burgenland emigrants was that the presence of an earlier emigrant in some location in the US (or elsewhere in the world) would often motivate additional Burgenland emigrants to go there. The likely scenario would be that the first emigrant would send a letter home describing the economic advantages of settling or working temporarily in the location he/she had selected. That location would be a particular attractive if many workers were needed there and Burgenland emigrants could provide the required skills. Such a scenario appears to have played out in Claridge, Westmorland County, PA, in 1902... Rita Oswald Grace writes: Dear Mr. Steichen, I ran across something curious in searching immigration records for my family members. My grandfather, Joseph Oswald, was born In Kólom, Vas County, Hungary (Kulm in Burgenland). He entered the US in 1905 through Ellis Island and married my grandmother a few months later in New York City where they lived for a few years before settling in St Louis. One of Joseph's sisters, Hedwig Oswald, may have come to the US in 1902. If the record I found is indeed her immigration record, she did not stay in the US because we have letters from her dated during the 1950s with a return address in Eberau. I took the following notes from the passenger list of the SS Vaderland, which arrived in New York City on March 4 1902. Hedwig Oswald was 17, single, last residence Kulm, destination Claridge, PA, which was a mining town just east of Pittsburgh. She was going to join her "uncle Jon. Rudy of Claridge, PA". I don't believe that Jon Rudy was her uncle. What I found curious about the passenger list was that several others from the same area of Burgenland were traveling to join John Rudy in Claridge, PA. Traveling from Kulm were Andreas Hobadler, 36, married, and Pauline Hobadler, 23, married, both of whom listed John Rudy as their brother-in-law, and Josef P(T)olzer, 19, single, who listed John Rudy as his uncle. Traveling from Eberau were Franz Luizer, 42, married, Josef Horvath, 34, married, and Marie Horvath, 24, married, each of whom listed John Rudy as their brother-in-law, and Paul Luizer, 17, single, and Mike Koffer, 35, married, both of whom listed John Rudy as their uncle. More from Kulm and Eberau on same ship (many, if not all, related in some way to John Rudy and headed to Claridge PA): Stefan Paukovits 35, Carl Urban 40, Franz Mittel 44, Josef Schaffer 35, John Korpr (?) 43, Franz Schaffer 27, perhaps more - I stopped looking after several pages. There were many others from Burgenland aboard this ship, but they were not traveling to Claridge, PA to join John Rudy. Source: Year: 1902; Arrival: New York, New York; Microfilm Serial: T715; Microfilm Roll: 257; Line: 18; Page Number: 165. Online database: Ancestry.com. New York Passenger Lists, 1820-1957 : accessed 1 June 2013. John Rudy must have been related to everyone in Kulm and Eberau. (Yes, you may read that with a tone of sarcasm). So who was this John Rudy? Did he work for a company in Claridge? A mining company? Was it common to "recruit" individuals from Europe to work in certain fields? Would this individual have traveled to Kulm and Eberau or was it more likely that previous immigrants from those areas wrote to invite others to the US and to use John Rudy as a contact? I hadn't given any thought to this happening until I found all these individuals traveling to join their "relative" in Claridge. For clarity, I'll re-list what Rita found... All of these emigrants appeared on a single 1902 ship manifest page going to Claridge, PA, to join John Rudy: Name Age From Relationship Hedwig Oswald 17 Kulm uncle Josef Polzer 19 Kulm uncle Andreas Hobadler 36 Kulm brother-in-law Pauline Hobadler 23 Kulm brother-in-law Karl Luisser 17 Eberau uncle Mike Koffer 35 Eberau uncle Franz Luiser 42 Eberau brother-in-law Josef Horvath 34 Eberau brother-in-law Marie Horvath 24 Eberau brother-in-law On the two previous manifest pages were: Stefan Paukovits 35 Kulm cousin Karl Urban 40 Kulm cousin Josef Schaffer 35 Kulm brother-in-law Franz Mittel 44 Eberau cousin John Koger 43 Eberau cousin Franz Schaffer 27 Eberau brother-in-law I also found: Ferdinand Wolfinger 37 Kr. Schützen cousin Anton Veselic 29 Kr. Schützen cousin Paul Fisl 25 Oberbildein friend I replied (in part): Hi Rita, this is, indeed, a curious grouping of “relatives”! Interestingly, there was a Rudy/Rudi family in each of Eberau and Kulm in the 1850s houselists we show on the BB website. Also, there was a John Rudy in Penn Township, Westmoreland Co, PA (which is where Claridge is) in the 1910 and following Federal censuses. He emigrated from “Austria” in 1900 (according to the census) so may be the guy listed in your 1902 record. As you surmise, this John Rudy worked for various coal mines in Westmoreland Co (according to each census where I found him). In addition, I found a March 8, 1900 emigration record for a Janos (John) Rudy from Kólom (Kulm) of the right age to be the one in Claridge. Thus it appears there was a real John Rudy in/near Claridge with ties to Kulm (and possibly Eberau, which was less than a mile away). This John Rudy was 33 in 1900, so old enough to be an uncle, and married, so in-laws make sense (though the number you mention seems unlikely!).  As
for recruiters, there was both official recruiters and active “word-of-mouth” of available
work, via letters back home, during this time period. From what I can tell, the Claridge
area (flagged in map near Pittsburgh) was full of small coal mines, which were labor
intensive, and many opened there in the years around 1900. So if John went there after his
arrival in the US (he gives Massachusetts as his first destination, but that does not mean a
lot) and quickly found work in the Claridge-area mines, he may well have written home about
the demand for workers there. Given the nature of mining, I suspect the men were put up in
quickly-assembled boarding houses. Women were needed there to provide basic services, as the
local support capacity would have been overwhelmed when a new mine opened. (I’ve visited the
Johnstown-area museum and this is what they say happened there.)Generally, you had to name someone who you were joining, and if John was the only one they knew in Claridge, they likely named him (though I would have expected more of them to say they joined a friend, rather than an in-law or cousin… but, given the size of Kulm and Eberau, John likely was distantly related to everyone! No touch of sarcasm here!) As for official recruiters, there was so much of that going on that the Hungarian Government wrote a highly restrictive Emigration law in 1903, banning much of what had gone on before. See BB Newsletter 219, Article 2 (at http://www.the-burgenland-bunch.org/Newsletter/Newsletter219.htm#02) for a write-up about this law. From what I can tell, neither Kulm nor Eberau were mining towns, but driving mules, swinging a pick into soft coal, or handling a shovel did not take much training; rather, just a willingness to do hard, dangerous work, and it was dangerous! Thanks for sharing this information. It is an extreme example of what we know occurred, but having a single-page documentation of it, as this passenger manifest is, is nice. I’ll likely write something up about it, though I may do more research before I assemble something. It will be interesting to discover whether any of the names you mention in the 1902 manifest are listed as Westmoreland Co miners in the 1910 census. If so, that will help tie down the work-recruitment idea. I doubt, though, that we will ever be able to prove (or disprove) that John was an official recruiter (however, I highly doubt he was, given the tasks he did in the mines—as listed in census records… he was a worker, not a boss). Yours, Tom Steichen Rita replied (in part): Good morning, Tom. I didn't expect such a quick reply. I did want to let you know that all of these names were not on the same page of the passenger list. I probably paged backward and forward about 3-5 pages. When I stopped finding names from Kulm and Eberau, I stopped paging. It was an interesting find. John Rudy may have been related to many of these people; however, I do not think he was my great-aunt's uncle unless it was by marriage. I did try to find marriages of siblings of my direct descendents and also tried to find children of those marriages. My family tree is pretty extensive, but of course not all inclusive. Thanks again, for the info. As I mentioned above, I found John Rudy in census records in Claridge and on a ship manifest (as coming from Kulm). The census records indicated that his wife's first name was Anna and the oldest child with them, Josef, was born in Hungary in ~1897. Exploration into the Civil Records for Kulm (held in Eberau) quickly provided Josef's birth record. He was born Feb 7, 1897 in Kulm to parents János Rudi (age 28, born Kulm) and Anna Krisztián (age 25, born Eberau). The parents' ages correspond with what the US census records show, so this appears to be the right couple. Thus we have Anna's maiden name and a strong connection to Eberau. I had hoped to find the marriage record for János and Anna (to get yet another generation of family surnames) but the online marriage records only went back to 1895 and their marriage record did not appear therein. Later, I discovered that János and Anna had at least three older children so they likely married before 1892; thus one would need the microfilmed church marriage records to go back that far (and I don't have quick access to those). So, whether the Krisztián surname has meaning to Rita Oswald Grace, I don't know; but perhaps it is the reason for the many cousin, brother-in-law, and uncle claims... but I doubt it! Still, this many "relatives" on one ship is curious, yes? I also decided to check whether there were more emigrants from Kulm or Eberau going to Claridge in the surrounding years, so I reviewed all for years 1900 to 1905 by using Stephen Morse's "One-Step Tools." Twenty minutes of work showed that there were only two such entries... and one was John Rudy and family returning to Claridge after a trip to Europe. John's entry reports that he had been in the US before and gave Claridge as his prior location, so he was the right guy. He claimed to be joining a cousin there, Herman Leidl. Interestingly, the other entry going to Claridge from Kulm was for a Gregor Duhan, who was joining his brother-in-law (have you guessed it?), Herman Leidl! I also looked for evidence in the 1910 census records, for those who listed John Rudy as the person they were joining, whether they were still living in the US. John Rudy was, of course, but I did not find any of the others (though I did not check alternative spellings for their names nor any county other than Westmoreland). So it appears these were itinerant workers who either went back to Burgenland or elsewhere in the US. Some history of the Claridge-area mines can be found online at http://patheoldminer.rootsweb.ancestry.com/claridge.html. Also, this Wikipedia page reveals that Westmoreland County and the Claridge mines was the site of a fierce coal miner's strike in 1910-11. If you do review these pages, you will see that the life of a coal miner was very difficult in the early 1900s. I'm not surprised that the emigrants moved on or went back home! As for Claridge and the coal mines of Westmoreland County, the once bustling "coal patch" (company) town of Claridge, being the largest settlement in the area with a population of over 2,500, is now only an unincorporated area... just another "wide spot in the road" with a population of around 700. As for the coal industry there, the mines were worked out or became economically infeasible a long time ago; the few remaining facilities are part of a cleanup and reclamation project. |
4) MEMORIES OF PERNAU AND IMMIGRATION TO AMERICA (by Paul J. Wiesler)  John
R Eberhardt writes: I received this transcription from Debbie (Wiesler) King in the Fall
of 2011. It was taken from a cassette tape made by Paul J. Wiesler in 1977 or 1978.
Paul Wiesler was the son of Paul Wiesler and Teresa Eberhardt. He was born 4 July 1902 in
Pernau, Austria-Hungary, immigrated to St. Louis, MO, in April 1909 and died 19 October
1983. It is the wonderful memory of a then seventy-year-old man looking back to when he was
3 years old. The detail is amazing. It not only includes the sights and sounds of the
village of my ancestors, Pernau, but also the trip to the USA, as seen through the eyes of
this then small boy. It is a treasure to both the Wiesler and Eberhardt families. Dear
Grandchildren and Great-Grandchildren: I am putting these things on tape so you will
know what life was like nearly 80 years ago, what my life was like and the interesting
incidents that happened. I think that I enjoyed life from the beginning although, from
today’s standards, we could have been considered poor. However, I was always curious, busy
and happy most of my life and cannot understand why so many people are unhappy with all of
the opportunities that they have to do things interesting today.The first thing in my life that I can remember was the following: The scene was one of the side streets about 300 meters off the Pernau village mall, which ran straight down through the village from the old wooden bridge over the Pinka River, which was the border between Austria and Hungary at this time. [Ed. Note: This is, of course, incorrect: the Pinka was not part of the border between Austria and Hungary until after 1921. The border in this region in 1905 was the Lafnitz (Lapincs) River, some 15 miles west.] However, it was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. It was August 1905 and it was hot and dry and dusty except for two small pools of mud in the street made by one of the farmers’ wagons loaded with containers for water, which they were carrying up from the river for their livestock and which had spilled over at this point in the street. The farmers’ wells were getting rather low, as it had been a rather dry month, and they were hauling water for their livestock. The wheels of the wagons, that had passed over the mud pools, made ruts in the mud and the mud was just the right consistency for making mud pies. That was just what two little people were doing on the walk in the shade under one of the trees on this street. They were very busy making figures of people and animals in a primitive form of sculpture. They were much absorbed in their work and did not seem to mind the heat in the early afternoon of this day. However, soon the four-year-old decided to leave for his home, which was just next door to where they were playing. The three-year-old neighbor wanted to stay and finish up what he was working on. However, just as he was about to leave for his own house about 50 meters down the street, he heard this unusual noise coming from the direction of the bridge, which was about 400 meters away, and (he looked) to see what could cause this different noise. He ran up his street toward the mall to better see and, when he had gone about 20 steps, he saw the figure on horseback coming out of the dust. When the horse and rider reached the bridge about the same time, the little boy was so scared he started to run back toward his house as fast as his little legs would let him. However, his curiosity overcoming his fright, he stopped. He saw the horse stop in the middle of the bridge and the rider get off and lead the horse back to the far side, where he hid it in a large clump of tall, tight bushes. The rider, who was in the uniform of the Hussars, then crawled under the bridge just as the small boy was retracing his steps to go home. He (the boy) stopped again and, on his final glance toward the bridge, saw a huge cloud of dust down the road across the bridge. His curiosity made him retrace his steps somewhat toward the mall to get a better look. The noise was getting louder and the cloud of dust was getting larger. When the thirty or more riders hit the bridge, the sound was so deafening that the little boy turned and ran all the way home as fast as his short little legs would let him. That was little boy was me. The riders stopped on the near side of the bridge and two of the Hussars dismounted, and one looked under the bridge on one end and the other one on the opposite end. They did not find the figure hidden there. They came back to their comrades, remounted, and all galloped up the mall and on through the village. They were on maneuvers.  That
evening, my five-year-old sister, my uncle Johann Schmalzl, my aunt Mary, their
daughter Anna, and I had just finished supper and were all gathered in the family room,
which was the large center room that had an oven, dining table, and one large bed that my
uncle and aunt slept in. There was some disturbance, outside the door that opened from the
yard to the family room, followed by a loud knock. Our attention was riveted on the door as
my uncle went to open it. I was right behind him and could look from between his legs. The
door opened and there stood one of the Hussars that I had seen earlier in the day, as big as
life. He was in full uniform with the blue pants, short black boots, red coat fully
decorated with golden “schnickle schnockles” and with a black cape. He had a black shako on
his head and at his side was a saber. As soon as I had a glimpse of him, I was so terrified;
I ran and quickly dove under the bed in the corner of the room. It took quite a bit of
coaxing to get me out from under the bed but, before my bedtime, I was sitting on his lap
and he promised to show me his horse in the morning. He was my aunt Mary’s brother, my uncle
John Eberhardt, and my mother’s brother. [Ed note: This "uncle John Eberhardt" is
the grandfather of John R Eberhardt, who provided this memoir to the BB. John R. had been
told that his grandfather was once a Hussar but he had struggled to document that claim; the
memoir provided first-hand confirmation!] My sister and I were living with my Uncle
Johann and Aunt Mary at this time in the Austrian village [Ed: technically, a
Hungarian village in 1905] because my mother had left us with them a year before (1904)
so she could join her husband (my father Paul Wiesler), who had preceded her to the United
States a year earlier to establish a home and, also, to stay out of a possible war in the
near future, since he was in the reserves having served three years in the Austro-Hungarian
army.Two years later (Fall 1907 on SS Amerika), my mother returned with my brother and another sister, and, six months after her arrival, another sister was born (Herminie, 23 April 1908). My mother, God rest her soul, returned to St. Louis with all of us; and who met her at Union Railroad Station but my Uncle John Eberhardt, the ex-Hussar, her brother, to take us to our new home, since my father was working. Uncle John had completed his military term in Austria [Ed: likely in the Hungarian rather than Austrian militia, or else in the joint-force, Austro-Hungarian military] two months after I met him. He left for America as soon as he possibly could as he could also see the war clouds forming for the years ahead.  CURRENT-DAY PORNÓAPÁTI (PERNAU): The Pinka river runs north-south to the left (west) of the main north-south (vertical) road in this image. The location of the bridge is marked with a red diamond; the church, with a red down arrow; and the village cemetery, with a red star. The mall runs along the main east-west road within the village. Part of the current Austria/Hungary border appears in yellow in the upper left corner of the image. (You can see more details by clicking this Google Maps link: Pernau) This was the little Austrian-Hungarian town of Pernau, which was situated on the Pinka River, in which I was born. My sister, Mary, was born in Vienna (1 Jan. 1900) when my mother and father lived there briefly after they were married. Pernau was a town of about 400 to 500 souls. Most of the people in it spoke German, although there were a few Hungarians: the coachman and caretaker of the mayor. My sister and I were living with my Uncle Johann and Aunt Mary, who was my mother’s sister, because my father left for America and my mother followed. She had intended to come back within a few years to get us, but it stretched out to closer to four years before she was able to come back for us. My cousin, Ann Schmalzl, lived with her father and mother and so there were five of us in this house. The house was a typical brick and white-washed stucco on a side street about a block off the mall and the main street which ran down the middle of the village (House #92). It was very substantial; it was on only a few acres of ground and was not a farm house. Behind it, a hundred meters or so further down the street, was the village cemetery. The mall extended through the village from the old wooden bridge. The first thing was the blacksmith’s shop, right on the river at the bridge, and then a little further along in the middle of the mall after the street from the bridge split and left the mall down the center with, of course, the two roads running through the village 100 to 150 meters apart. In the middle of this, the first building not too far from the bridge, was a church, the village church (St. Margaret), and the denomination was Catholic. I think the only denomination in the village was Catholic. Further on along in the mall was the police station, and the police had grayish uniforms with the green trim and they had large hats with cock or rooster feathers in each hat. Further along at the end of the village, and where the road came together again, was the Bauhaus or Inn, where you could stay overnight and where one could find something to eat and drink; it was also a center for a gathering such as a theater group coming to town or for village meetings and so forth. I remember that toward the end of my stay in this village that we all went to see a show similar to a vaudeville show, with acts and singing and monologues. Coming from the bridge, to the left of the church and on the corner of the side street, was a large building, in fact, the most prominent building in the village; it was the mayor’s house. On the right hand side of the church, also on a side street leaving down toward my uncle’s house where I lived, was the school, which taught grades from about 1st to 10th. Most of the children never went past 6th or 8th grades but went off to help their parents work in the fields. Most of the people in this village were farmers and their farms stretched like a pie slice out into the country from their homes. Uncle Johann Schmalzl was a forester, and he left every morning with a knapsack holding his lunch and with a rifle that he carried on his shoulder, like in a dress parade, with a strap that held the rifle vertical. He also had a large hat similar to what our rangers here wear. He was the law in regard to the forest and watched out for poachers, hunters without licenses and people who were cutting down trees illegally. The forestry patrol was a few miles from the house and, when I got to be about six years old, I went along with him a half of dozen times or so. I loved to go in the spring and generally in June when the wild strawberries were ripe, and they were very delicious. They have a much stronger flavor than the home grown variety, and they also were sweeter. He never took water along because, every so often, there was a hollow tree that was filled by the work crew in the forest every so often, and they had it plugged. When my uncle came along to a hollow tree, he unplugged it, stuck his wooden spigot in there, tapped it in and then he turned it on, we had water. We carried folding cups to drink the water out of. Let me tell you about my grandfather’s house in this village (House #12). Grandfather’s (Alexander Eberhardt) and Grandmother’s (Anna Luisser) house was about 200 meters up the street on the left from the river. It was a rather narrow lot, about 50 meters wide, and the house set on the right as you approached it from the street. The front end of the house was even with the sidewalk or the front part of the walk. Their farm started from behind the barn that was about 60 meters behind the house and which had a big opening in the middle that you could pull a wagon and horses through. Then you came to the orchard that went on for about 150 feet before you would reach the fields that stretched out for many acres and possibly as much as a half a mile. Since most of the houses along there were old farms, they had narrow strips of land that reached way out into the country. There was a tall wooden fence with a gate, which was across the front of the house to the neighbor’s property, which gave them a certain privacy. The house was divided up into two sections with an entrance hall all the way across the house, right in the middle of the house. In one section there were a couple of rooms that were occupied by my grandfather and grandmother, and the other section was occupied by my mother’s oldest brother, Stefan Eberhardt, and his family. In that center hall was a large icebox-like structure with a certain amount of ice kept in it from the storage outside, where the ice from the winter was frozen over and harvested and brought in and packed into this hole in the ground. In this large icebox was kept the milk products and the meat, which, of course, was used by the two families. At the center of the yard and up toward the front was a large pear tree with large hard pears, and after they were picked they were usually kept some time before they were soft enough to eat. Also in this yard, just about even with the large entrance hall, was a deep well that furnished the water for the household. In the back of the house toward the barn, continuing like another part of the house, a different structure actually, but narrow and continuing all the way to the barn, were the stables with the dairy section for the two cows and also the two horses. Just before you got to the barn, about 150 feet back on the opposite side of the stables, was a boxed in section for manure, which was dumped there and then a load was taken out whenever they went out into the fields to work. When they went out to the fields, the wagon would have to go through the barn and on through the orchard, which was right behind the barn and which contained a half dozen apple trees, plum trees, a few cherry trees—red cherries like what we use here to make pies—and there were one or two pear trees also, I think. After about 100 feet of this orchard, you got out into the fields, which stretched for possibly a half mile because the farm land that they owned was narrow, only 60 meters in width, but it extended on, and that is why they took a wagon because sometimes they went all the way to the other end of it, which must have been a mile away. They took water and their lunch and usually worked from daylight nearly until sunset. There was also a gate in the front fence so that a wagon could be driven out the front alongside the house into the street or road in the front of the property. Over the barn to the left, their neighbor had a very large black cherry tree. As a boy when I was five or six, I found a way get up on the roof of my grandfather’s barn and I would sit there on top of that barn roof under the cherry tree and eat my fill of these big black cherries in the summer when they were ripe, and were they luscious and good. Many times, I had a slight belly ache but I wouldn’t tell anybody because I didn’t want to spoil the possibility of the right to go and get those cherries. Grandfather Alex Eberhardt and Grandma were really nice and kind people. I really enjoyed going to their house for a visit. When my mother came back from America to get us (October, 1907), she brought along my sister and a brother who had been born in America, and she (my mother) was three months pregnant. My sister, Herminie, was later born about six months after she came back to Austria. It was six months longer, or a whole year all together, before we started back to America. Now this will be about our trip to America. One day, early in the morning and early in April of the year 1909, when we started on our way to America and a new life for all of us (my sister Mary was nine on January 1st of that yea, and on the coming Fourth of July, I would be seven), my mother said a sad goodbye to her parents, brother and sister and in-laws and friends, as she knew that she most likely would never see them again. This must have been very hard for her but, of course, her future was now with the considerable family she now had. To Mary and I, while we were somewhat sad leaving our grandfather and grandmother, Aunt Mary and Uncle Johann Schmalzl, and the cousins, we were also looking ahead to a new place and things and to a new life in a new land. So we started on our way in my Grandfather Alex Eberhardt’s two-horse wagon, and it took all morning to go the twelve miles to Szombathely, where we will take a train in the afternoon to Vienna. Szombathely was a city of about 35,000 to 40,000 people, and it looked huge to us when we rode in. We had a tearful farewell again for my mother, and my grandfather left us for a lonely ride for the twelve miles home. So, there we were, on our way on a train that was a novelty for my sister Maria and I, but the others were too little to take notice. We arrived after seeing lots of Austrian countryside, and we arrived later that night in Vienna, and we took a ride in a carriage to my father’s cousin’s house, who owned a bakery, and we had a late supper of some tortes and apple kuchen and other cakes. We all bedded down in one room and we woke up in the morning to the smell of the baking of the fresh cakes, tortes, and bread. We gorged ourselves on some of the left-over breads and got acquainted with some of our possibly six or eight cousins.  We
had milk with the cakes and bread and my mother had coffee with my father’s cousin. It was
raining outside but we had to get to the railroad station that afternoon, and so we took
another carriage and on the way rolled past St. Stephen’s Cathedral. It was quite a building
and it impressed me, even as young as I was.We arrived at the station and train without incident and pretty soon we were on the train and asleep. In the morning when we woke up, we were along a river, which turned out to be the Rhine in Germany. We saw all these all these beautiful white boats and the castles on the hillside on the opposite side of the river, and all along were beautiful vineyards stretching up the hills from the river. In Hamburg, we stopped at a small hotel to await the arrival of the President Lincoln, which was due in the next day and which we were to board two days later. We missed the Amerika through some mix up by one day. It had sailed the day before we got to Hamburg, and that was the ship my mother wanted to sail on because that was the one she had sailed on when she had come over to Europe from America when she came to get us. The Amerika was a large four-funnel ship the same size or same class, which was first class in every way, to the Mauretania and the Lauritania, which were ships of the Cunard line. This Amerika, however, was a German line, and so was the President Lincoln and President Cleveland, which was the same size as the President Lincoln, and had only two funnels and was only about one-third of the tonnage of the Amerika, which was a very large ship. The first thing I remember about Hamburg was when we came into the hotel—it was time for supper—was the wonderful smell of the soup that they served in the dining room, and we really enjoyed the food there during our stay. My mother took us out after supper and we walked around the square on which the hotel was situated, and in this square were three churches of different denominations, so we went into each one and looked around because they were all beautiful churches. We ended up at the Catholic church where my mother said we should all say prayers for our safe return to America and thank God for letting us be on our way so far. In looking recently at a picture in a magazine of Hamburg, I saw that those three churches are still there, as they were when we came through there some seventy years ago.  We
finally boarded the President Lincoln, which docked, and we took a carriage
out there with our entire luggage to board the ship. (Note: they departed from Cuxhaven,
northwest of Hamburg where the Elbe River meets the Atlantic Ocean.) When we were aboard, we
found that we had a cabin, not very large, with four beds or bunks in it, and we were going
to crowd together somehow in there for the trip of twelve to thirteen days. In the ship’s
dining room, where we ate, we found that the tables were for about twenty people... long,
narrow tables. The food seemed fair to me but my mother thought it was not very good in
comparison to the food she had on the Amerika. It seemed as though, every now and
then, I got an extra dessert because one of the passengers wasn’t feeling good, and when
they brought the dessert, they just gave me an extra one. I seemed to be the only one, even
in our family, that did not get seasick. Because I didn’t get seasick, I had to carry some
hot water every morning back to our cabin in pitchers that I got from the dining room
because warm water was supposed to help them by drinking some of it. I don’t know how it
did, but I know my mother and a couple of my sisters were very sick.We had one cabin, not very large, with four bunks in it, and I did not spend much time down there after I did my duties and my chores and brought hot water a couple times a day. I was up on deck nearly all the time, looking at all the parts of the ship that I could see or go to. We were in what is called cabin class which is just below deck and would be tourist class today. The place where we ate, the dining room, had long tables for about twenty people, and when my sisters and mother couldn’t come to eat or they didn’t feel like eating, I would eat with whoever was feeling good. I got to know some of the neighbors and some of the other passengers. I would end up with a couple of desserts, which I enjoyed very much. Also, on the deck at about ten-thirty in the morning, the purser would come around with a bag of candy, and I would always be there at a particular spot that I knew he would pass and get my candy. Another thing that happened to me on deck, since it was nearly always rather windy, was the fact that I lost two caps, which were blown off my head and over the side into the water, even though I held them as much as I could whenever the wind blew. My mother was really mad about this and lost her patience and, if it wasn’t for the fact she was so sweet, she might have given me a good rear-end tanning for my carelessness. I can hardly blame her for this, and paid for it when we came into New York wearing a tassel cap in April. My favorite spot on the ship was to sit on the rail at the very back of the ship and, with my feet in the rail, I would bend over and watch the screws on the ship churn up the water that, of course, made the ship go. Whenever any of the ship’s personnel saw me there, they chased me off, but I always went back there because it had a certain fascination for me. I was very lucky that I didn’t slip; they would have never known I was gone if that had happened. On the eleventh day out of Hamburg, and just before we reached the Great Banks of New England 500 miles east of New York, we ran into a terrible storm. Actually, it was an early hurricane and there were waves sixty feet high, which were very terrible looking when the ship was down in the hole and the waves were up above the ship. It was terrifying, and many of the passengers were very afraid and concerned. The sea was terrifying with huge whitecaps, and the fact that it was very dark-gray looking, and the sky was nearly black. Even I, at my age, was fearful of it. Mother and sisters missed it, and it was just as well. They would still sit down in the cabin and they could feel, however, the ship lurching. It traveled so it rolled on a high wave and, since it was not such a large ship as far as big passenger ships go, it also sank down into the holes in a hurry, like a roller coaster. However, the ship rode it out very well, although there was some concern from what I heard, that some plates could loosen, and, in that case, we could have some leakage. Fortunately, none of this ever came to pass. The sight of land in a few days was a welcome sight, and especially the Statue of Liberty which we saw in the distance. Also, we also passed the Amerika, the ship that we were supposed to take, just outside the harbor of New York, going, of course, past us in the opposite direction. It was a beautiful ship, and it was a beautiful sight, since it passed within 200 yards of us.  In
a few hours we reached Ellis Island, where, of course, we disembarked. In some
manner, my mother did not have the right papers, or had gotten mixed up on them, or was not
sent the right papers, but we were all citizens, all of us, of the United States, since my
father had his second citizenship papers and had passed the test (Paul Wiesler, naturalized
July 1909). We, therefore, were citizens, but my mother did not have the proper credentials
and we were held over like the other immigrants. We should have been passed through and on
to the train to St. Louis immediately. I remember we had to wait in a large waiting room
with a lot of other people of all nationalities, and the only thing that they sold that we
could eat were lemon pies, which I like, but I kind of got sick of them, having nothing else
for two days. They had some other things, but nearly always sold out.However, we survived and got on the train, and the only thing I remember is crossing the Susquehanna River on the train near Philadelphia before it got dark. Then we slept a lot on the way, especially my mother and the sisters, who were pretty exhausted from their ordeal on the ship, and, of course, they were now over their seasickness.  We
finally reached St. Louis and the train rolled into the huge Union Station, where we
were met by, of all people, my Uncle John Eberhardt, my mother’s brother, the ex-Hussar, and
the man who took part in the thing that I remember first in my life—the episode with the
Hussars in the little town of Pernau near my Uncle Johann and Aunt Mary’s house, where I
lived at that time. He was to meet us instead of my father because my father was working,
and Uncle John happened to have the day off or was not working at that time. He helped us to
the street car with our bags and, finally, we ended up at our house, which would be our home
for the next year.It was located at 3915 Blair Avenue, just a half of a block north of Hyde Park at Bremen. It was a brick flat with three large rooms. The one large room to the west was my father and mother’s bedroom with Hermine, who was a baby sleeping in that same room. The next large room was a bedroom for the four of us, which would be Mary Jane, myself, Theresa and John. The final, third room, which was facing the yard, was the kitchen and the dining room as well. Since it was a very large room, most of the family spent their time in this room. It was more like the family room of today. There was no inside bathroom or toilet in those days. Up until after the First World War, there were very few houses in the middle class that had inside baths, so we had a shed-like building about twenty feet from the back kitchen door that contained our “two-holer” toilets. Along side of it was a section for our coal, or coal bin, for our stove, since the flat was heated by a stove, a sort of pot belly stove, in the end room that was my mother and father’s room. The kitchen and the other room were heated to some extent by the kitchen range, in which a fire in winter had to be kept at all times. It was rough living that first year, and especially during the winter, but we made out all right and everyone remained healthy.  We
moved into this house or flat in April of 1909, and we did not enter school (Holy Trinity?)
until September, since it only had a few months to go. So, we entered in early September,
Mary Jane and I, since we were the only ones old enough, and we, of course, we were kind of
large for our age, entering in the first grade. However, within a few months, Mary Jane was
put into the second grade, and I was advanced to the second class of the first grade. Before
the year was over, we were both in the age group we were supposed to be in. At the end of
the school year, I was close to seven, no, I was close to eight, and Mary Jane was close to
ten. So, we learned English very fast, in fact, after a few years in this country, neither
one of us knew much about German, or remembered what we had learned in the year of school we
had in the old country.In the first year on Blair Avenue, Mary Jane and I did very well at school. She jumped classes twice, and I jumped ahead once. By the time we enrolled a year later at the Walnut Park School (5421 Thekla), we were about in the right classes as far as our age and size were concerned. When we were on Blair Avenue that first year, and Christmas rolled around, we had a very good Christmas, and we had presents that we had not seen in the old country, as some relatives sent us some presents. I remember one thing, Uncle John Eberhardt, the same one that met us at Union Station and who was the last Hussar that I saw, bought us a big Victrola, the kind with a dog sitting, listening to it. It was of course, the table type, and it had one of the most beautiful morning-glory horns that I had ever seen. The horn was a beautiful shape, in a Chinese red with a gold edging, and it was a beautiful machine. The music just really enthralled us all since we had never heard anything of this nature, especially the waltzes of those days, which were fairly new—the Strauss, Behar and others. I received a sled, among other things, and I was looking to use it. Although, in the city, the only place would be Hyde Park, where we did use it; however, as I remember, it was not a very snowy winter that year.  Early
in the spring of 1910, my father and his brother, Fred (Ferdinand), bought four lots
on Alcott Avenue, each thirty feet front. They divided this plot into three lots of forty
feet each, and sold the one lot in between theirs to someone else. As soon as the snow was
gone, along with some friends, they began building their houses, first ours, then Fred’s.
They worked very hard every weekend. They were gone and out there along with the friends
that helped them, and in those days, that is one of the things…that they all helped each
other on projects of this kind. So, they were always three or four working on the house. My
father was a fairly very good carpenter as well as other things and not a bad architect, in
the sense that he knew how to put up a foundation, walls of the outside of the house, and
later on, the inside. Of course, they also put horizontal clapboard on the outside. It was a
frame house, and the roof and everything for the three-room house which we had there on
Alcott Avenue.In the middle of the summer of 1910, sometime in July, we were ready to move in. I think, on the Fourth of July, they had a big party celebrating this with all of the people that had taken part in building that house coming. My mother had a big roast beef in the oven and with other things. They all had a good time. My father also had a keg of beer on tap with a great big block of ice under it in a washtub and another block on top. By the middle of the afternoon, they started playing cards and toward evening a few of the people that brought along an accordion and another sometimes was a violin, when they brought in another instrument. They began playing waltzes and mazurkas and other dances of the day. In the clay part of the front yard, they began to dance. I remember on this and other parties, we children, and especially I, fell asleep to the music and the stomping of the feet, which was part of the scene in those days. When we moved in, the house was not quite finished inside, but it was livable, especially in the summer months, and my father worked on it nearly every day on the inside finally fixing up the trim, the doors, and so forth. It wasn’t long, and by fall it started to look like a finished house. I think it was Labor Day that a group of helpers of his and friends descended on the place with paint brushes and paint and painted the house. Of course again, we had a big dinner for them and a keg of beer. Later on, (there was) the usual ending, which was dancing and so on. It seemed as though in those days, people really enjoyed themselves with the simple things of life. Although they all worked hard—physically, terribly hard—they still seemed to have the energy left to have a good time when the opportunity presented itself. That fall (1910), we entered, that is, Mary Jane and I, entered the Walnut Park School on Thekla Ave. My end of the school was a block long, and school was eleven blocks from home. The boys’ entry was at the north end of the school, and the girls’ yard and entry was on the south side of the school. As it was in those days, they had separate yards for the boys and the girls. The next summer, my father helped Uncle Fred with his house, as well as some of Uncle Fred’s friends that came from the downtown area of St. Louis to help him, and he, of course, went through the same procedure as my father and mother had as far as having a keg of beer to keep them from getting too thirsty and working. Their house was ready by the end of that summer and they moved in with their two little children, as their family was just starting. They ended up having seven children, just like we did, but they ended up with the opposite of what we had—that was five boys and two girls, while we had two boys and five girls. However, they were nearly ten years behind us in as far as age of the oldest child was concerned. When we enrolled in the Walnut Park School we went into classes that were the right ones for our age group and since we now spoke English pretty well without even a trace of an accent. |
5) MY IRELAND TRIP: CONNECTIONS TO BURGENLAND? I skipped putting together a newsletter last month for two reasons: First, my wife and I were intimately involved in a week-long community event in the town we recently moved to: Greencastle, PA. This was a triennial event, known as "Old Home Week," and has been held every third year since 1902. As the name suggests, it is both a celebration and a remembrance of days past, bringing many prior residents back to town to see each other and to enjoy the events. However, it is the current "locals" who carry the burden of planning, preparing and presenting the events... and we were quickly recruited to support many events, plus we also chose to host a large group of friends in our front yard for the last-night fireworks, as our home is situated quite near where the fireworks are shot. We all ended up with bits of gun-powdery, papery debris in our hair, which suggest just how close we were... but it was spectacular viewing there! Second, our Old Home Week adventures were immediately followed by our departure for Ireland, where we spent two wonderful weeks. Given all that, there was just too little time to assemble a newsletter! Interestingly, when looking at the newsletter from 10 years ago to select a "Historical BB Newsletter Article," I noticed that Gerry Berghold also traveled in August 2003 and skipped the newsletter. His trip took him by river boat from Amsterdam to Vienna via the Rhine, Main, Rhine Main canal and Danube rivers. Mine was by tour coach, all around Ireland.  Our
trip (a guided, coach tour) started with 2 days (and a few Guinness's) in Dublin
then up to Belfast, passing within 20 miles of the Northern Ireland village of Greencastle,
the namesake of my current town, which was initially settled by the Scots-Irish of Ulster.
In Belfast, also for two days, we learned about "the troubles," which are mostly over
now, though some Protestant/Loyalist extremists still participate each July in "the
marching season," trying to stir things up. Of some interest was a visit to the Titanic Museum, as that ship was built in Belfast and last saw land in Cork harbor before sailing off to its fate with a crew of nearly 900 and some 1,317 passengers aboard (including 709 emigrants in Third Class), fortunately well below its capacity of 2435 passengers (but still far more than the capacity of its lifeboats... what were they thinking?). From Belfast we traveled up along the rugged, blustery Antrim County coast (namesake of the township that Greencastle, PA, is in) on our way for a afternoon in Derry (Londonderry), which was another hotspot during the troubles and the site of marches this past July, yet in August was host to some 430,000 visitors for the 8 days of the Fleadh Cheoil na hÉireann (the All-Ireland Music Festival). Unfortunately, we arrived on the closing day of the Festival and the streets, restaurants and hotels were simply packed. We overnighted in Ballybofey, a small country village some 20 miles beyond Derry.  From
there we traveled down to Galway for a two-night stay, stopping at the Carrowmore
Megalithic Cemetery near Sligo on the way and day-tripping to the Connemara
district while at Galway. Carrowmore was interesting in that it has some 60 Neolithic
graves (cairns, portal tombs, passage graves), similar to what can be found in Burgenland,
but 1400 miles away! One must wonder how these New Stone Age peoples traveled so far over
both land and sea.After Galway we traveled down the western coast to Killarney, crossing the Shannon River by ferry along the way. We stayed 3 nights in Killarney with day trips around the Ring of Kerry and out the Dingle peninsula to Slea Head, the westernmost point of Europe. Our final night was in Limerick, where we attended a medieval dinner in a castle before departing Ireland the next morning from Shannon airport. The above is merely an outline of all we did, as we had local guides in three cities show us their towns, we visited specific sites within each city  (like
the Guinness brewery in Dublin, where we were instructed on the proper way to pour and drink
Guinness... as for drinking, one must start with "a proud and confident stance!"),
and our travel between overnight towns was rich with stops every hour or two to visit sites
of interest (and yes, I did kiss the Blarney Stone).Even the Shannon airport departure gate proved interesting, as three members of our group were busted by the USDA's fruit-sniffing dog and had to give up their fruit. No one got in trouble and the little dog was cute but determined, so it was "good craic" (good fun), as our Tour Director, Paul, so often exclaimed! So, why am I saying all this in a Burgenland newsletter? Does it have anything to do with Burgenland? Well, yes (and no). Yes, in that Neolithic graves are found in both places, even though they are so very far apart. And yes, in that famine (you can capitalize that for Ireland: "The Famine") drove people away from both lands. My own Halbauer ancestors left Wallern shortly after the following was written of the situation in 1875: "Bei Ümitz (Illmitz) und Obadlau (Apetlon) faungt si da Hunga aon." (The starvation belt starts in Illmitz and Apetlon.) And yes, in that both peoples mass-emigrated to find employment in America when little was available in their native lands. Ireland still has only about half the population it had before the great potato famine. Another yes is that both places are replete with castles (we visited so many that I lost count!). There is yet another connection too, as provided to me from Bob Strauch by Margaret Kaiser:
Looking through our BB houselist data, I see that the surname GILI was present in
Neustift bei Güssing during 1669-1699 and variations GILLI and GILLY were present in
Kukmirn, Tobaj, Heiligenkreuz and Deutsch Tschantschendorf in the 1850s houselists. The
current Austrian phonebook still yields 2 GILLI surnames in northern Burgenland and 10 GILLY
surnames in southern Burgenland. |
6) HISTORICAL BB NEWSLETTER ARTICLES Editor: This is part of our series designed to recycle interesting articles from the BB Newsletters of 10 years ago. This month, I reprint [with some corrections] one from Newsletter No. 121C (September 30, 2003), entitled "Rax & Rax Bergen." As Gerry Berghold indicated in his text, these are very small hamlets (now 'appendages' to, or sub-districts of, Jennersdorf) and there is little to be written about them... he also points out that this is true for most little villages... but he tried anyway! THE BURGENLAND BUNCH NEWS No. 121C September 30, 2003 RAX & RAX BERGEN There are over 400 known villages in Austria's Burgenland. In addition, there are many hamlets, which have been absorbed or whose identity is no longer listed. Something like our own suburbs, which lose their postal identity and are incorporated in nearby towns. I frequently get asked if I have any information concerning these and then I begin a search of my library. Often I find very little, since most could have a sign which says: "In the year so & so, absolutely nothing happened here." I was recently asked about Rax, a village in the district of Jennersdorf, now an "Ortsteile" or appendage to Jennersdorf, along with Henndorf and Grieselstein, since 1971. This is what I found and is a model for what you can expect to find for the smaller villages: Prior to 1921, Rax had the same name in Hungarian, but the spelling was Raks. There were two communities with a total of 1024 Roman Catholics in 1878:  Also-Raks
(Lower Raks, Unter-Rax), which belonged to the parish of Weichselbaum
(Badafalva), and Felso-Raks (Upper Raks, Ober-Raks), which belonged to the parish of
Jennersdorf (Gyanafalva). There were also 2 Lutherans and 19 Jews living in the Raks
communities. All of the places mentioned were then in the Jaras (district) of Szt. Gotthárd
in the Hungarian Megye (county) of Vas. Bergen or Rax-Bergen is probably the current name of
Felso-Raks as Bergen signifies a community in the hills (upper). Rax lays east of
Jennersdorf, between Jennersdorf and Weichselbaum, along the road connecting Jennersdorf
with Mogersdorf, with Bergen slightly to the northeast on a minor road from Jennersdorf (see
red-circled names in map above).I would assume that anything that took place in Jennersdorf or Mogersdorf also affected Rax. This would include dynastic takeovers, the Mongol invasion, and the Kuruzen wars. I'm sure Rax played a part in the battle of Szt. Gotthárd (Mogersdorf 1664) - it would have been a place occupied by Imperial troops, at least by supply trains. The Turkish retreat following the 2nd siege of Vienna probably passed through here and Rax may have witnessed the Batthyány massacre of Turkish allies during that retreat. There is no mention of Rax in the canonical visitation of 1757. In the general historical bibliography of Burgenland, I find a publication titled "Römerfunde von Rax" - Barb, Manuscript IV, which describes Roman gravestones found in the vicinity. I do not have this book, but it points out that there was a community or villa here as early as Roman times. Rudersdorf was probably a minor Roman military guard post. Unlike most other communities, which belonged to a noble family, all indications I have found place the ownership of Rax as a holding of the Church of Szt. Gotthárd, probably as late as 1848. The church and civil records for Rax and Rax-Bergen have been copied by the LDS and the church microfilm numbers are Weichselbaum 0700649-50 for Rax and Jennersdorf 0700669-70 for Rax-Bergen; civil records are Jennersdorf 0700294-299 for both. Rax and Rax-Bergen records in the 1828 Hungarian census would be found at no. 454 in the LDS microfilm no. 0623013. The English language book "Burgenland Panorama" - Gesellmann & Stefanits (see prior newsletters for a description of this book) has this to say: "Rax - City of Jennersdorf - a German speaking village of 700 inhabitants, is a linear village (spreads along the main road with farm plots behind) with balanced agrarian and trade structures. Archaeological finds on the Rax village grounds prove the great age of this settlement. Rax today is a holiday resort with many hiking facilities."  The
book "Wandern im Südburgenland" - Schubert & Franzke, includes two hiking or bicycle
tours: one Jennersdorf-Bergen-Jennersdorf and one Rax toward Krobotek and Rax-Bergen.
Mentioned are the old Jugendstil (Art Nouveau) schoolhouse and a war monument with chapel.
Ed: As you can see from the shoulder patch shown at the right, Rax-Bergen's "Wanderverein Turbo Mäuse" hiking club still remains active. It has a website with many pictures of members involved in club activities.  The
only other things I found on the web about Rax and Rax-Bergen was a page about the August
10th "Oleanderfest" in Rax, a festival celebrating the flowering (but toxic and poisonous)
Oleander shrub, and a March 2013 news article about a new playground opening in Rax-Bergen.It seems clear that Gerry's contention that "[almost] absolutely nothing happened here," at least from an earth-shaking, historical perspective, is correct. Both villages are quiet, everyday places... bedroom communities that are great places to call home. I should know: I live in a similarly quiet place! Note: I have added much of the above to a BB Village History page for these villages. |
7) ETHNIC EVENTS LEHIGH VALLEY, PA (courtesy of Bob Strauch) Thursday-Sunday, Oct. 3-6: Oktoberfest at the Reading Liederkranz. Info: www.readingliederkranz.com Friday-Sunday, Oct. 4-6: Oktoberfest at SteelStacks in Bethlehem. Info: www.artsquest.org Saturday, Oct. 5: 100th Anniversary of the St. Peter & Paul Beneficial Society (Hungarian Hall) in Northampton. Music by the Koprive tamburitza ensemble of Szentpéterfa, Hungary. Info: www.northamptonhungarianhall.com (also, see more details in Article 1 above) Friday-Sunday, Oct. 11-13: Oktoberfest at SteelStacks in Bethlehem. Info: www.artsquest.org Sunday, Oct. 13: Grape Dance at the Coplay Sängerbund. Music by the Emil Schanta Band. Info: www.coplaysaengerbund.com Saturday, Oct. 19: Weinlesefest at the Lancaster Liederkranz. Music by Heidi and Heimatecho. Info: www.lancasterliederkranz.com NEW BRITAIN, CT Friday, Oct. 4, 7 pm: Heimat Abend. Austrian Donau Club, 545 Arch Street, New Britain, CT (860 223-9401). Music by Joe Rogers. Friday, Oct. 18, 7 pm: Heurigan Abend. Austrian Donau Club. Music by Schachtelgebirger Musikanten. |
8) BURGENLAND EMIGRANT OBITUARIES (courtesy of Bob Strauch) Mary Poandl  Mary
S. Poandl, 99, of Northampton, PA died on Sunday, August 11, 2013, at her home surrounded by
her loving family.She was the wife of the late Vincent L. Poandl, Jr. who died in 1969. Born in Unterbildein, Austria, she was the daughter of the late Stephen and Mary (Unger) Augustine. Mary was a Silk Weaver employed by the Former Cands Fabrics of Catasauqua, PA. for 32 years before retiring in 1974. She then went to work for former Cross Country Clothes, Northampton for a few years, before fully retiring. She was a member of Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Catholic Church, Northampton, PA. Survivors: Mary is survived by two daughters, Mary Ann wife of Butch Morgan of Northampton, PA and Dolly, wife of James Varnes of Pottstown, PA, three sons; Vincent L. Poandl, III and wife Mary Ellen of Moneta, VA, Stephen Poandl and wife Carole of Germansville, PA and Charles Poandl and wife Annie of Centreville, VA; two sisters; Mrs. Theresa Sommers of Coplay, PA and Mrs. Hermina Stangl of Slatington, PA; three brothers, Stephen Augustine of Hackensack, NJ, John Augustine and wife Kathleen of Walnutport, PA and Julius Augustine and wife Kim of Hatboro, PA; a sister-in-heart; Hermina Augustine, Walnutport, PA; 17 grandchildren; 22 great-grandchildren; one great-great-granddaughter; one step-grandson; eight step-great-grandchildren; and one step-great-grandson. She was predeceased by a great-grandson, Jonathan Keller (2005); and a great-great-grandson, Owen Schlegel (2011); also two sisters, Bertha Halal and Pauline Trinkle; and a brother, Martin Augustine. Services: A Mass of Christian burial will be celebrated at 10 a.m. on Wednesday August 14, 2013 at Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church, 22nd and Washington Avenue Northampton, PA.18067 with the Rev. Francis P. Straka officiating. Interment will follow in Our Lady of Hungary Cemetery, Northampton, PA. The family will receive friends from 7 p.m.-8:30 p.m. on Tuesday, August 13, 2013, and Wed. August 14, 2013 from 8:30 a.m. - 9:30 a.m. both at the Schisler Funeral Home. Online condolences may be made to the family at www.schislerfuneralhomes.com. Contributions: May be made to the Church Memorial Fund or to Charity of Ones Choice both C/O the funeral home. Published in Morning Call on August 12, 2013  Frank Marx Frank
Marx, 77, of the Bronx, NY, and Whitehall, PA, passed away August 24, 2013 in Bellevue
Hospital, New York.He was married to Hermine (Jandrisevits) Marx for 49 years. Born in Reinersdorf, Austria, he was the son of the late Johann and Elisabeth (Grohotolski) Marx. He was a server in the executive dining room of Time Warner, New York and a computer programmer for Franklin Simon Department Store. He was a member of St. Helena Catholic Church, New York and St. Peter's Catholic Church, Coplay. Survivors: Wife; daughters, Elisabeth Milisits, NY, Karen Marx, Bronxville, NY; sisters, Stefanie Schatz, Northampton, Rose Stoisits, Coplay, and Maria Mönichweger and Helene Marx, both in Austria. He was preceded in death by siblings, Edward Marx and Anna Müller. Services: 11 a.m. Thursday, August 29, Robert A. Hauke Funeral Home, 327 Chestnut St., Coplay followed by a Mass of Christian Burial at 11:30 a.m., St. Peter"s Catholic Church, Coplay. Call 10-11 a.m. Thursday in the funeral home. Interment, parish cemetery, Whitehall. Published in Morning Call on August 26, 2013 Gisela Herrmann Gisela
Herrmann, 76, of Allentown, Pennsylvania, passed away Wednesday, September 4, 2013, at home
with her family by her side.She was the wife of Hans P. Herrmann. They celebrated their 54th wedding anniversary on May 30. She was born in Alsórönök (Unterradling), Hungary, a daughter of the late Johann and Maria (Schanta) Kovacs. Gisela worked at Holy Family Manor for 10 years before retiring in 2002 and prior she was a seamstress for the former Schneider Manufacturing in Allentown for forty years. She was a member of St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church, Allentown. She was a member of the Coplay Sängerbund and the Hianz'nchor Austrian singing group. Survivors: Husband; sons, Michael and John of Allentown; sister, Marie, wife of Ewald Sodke, of Coopersburg; granddaughters, Ashley of Bethlehem and Mary Elizabeth of Allentown. A son, Thomas, predeceased her in 2010. Services: Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated at 10:30 a.m., Saturday, September 7, 2013, at St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church, 11th and Washington Streets, Allentown. Burial will follow at Resurrection Cemetery, Wescosville. www.trexlerfuneralhome.com. Contributions: In lieu of flowers, a contribution in Gisela's memory may be made to the church, 825 N. 11th St., 18102. Published in Morning Call on September 5, 2013 Bertha Bernatt Bertha
Bernatt, 93, passed away August 10, 2013 in Orlando, Florida. She was the wife of the late Michael A. Bernatt. Born on September 17, 1919 in Unterbildein, Austria, she was the daughter of the late Frank and Mary (Koger) Prickler and lived in Northampton, Pennsylvania, from the age of eight years. She was predeceased by her husband, Michael A. Bernatt; and brothers, Rudolph and Steven Prickler. Survivors: Survived by sister-in-law, Rose Prickler; and several nieces and nephews. She was predeceased by her brothers, Rudolph and Steven Prickler. Services: A memorial service was held Wednesday, September 11, 2013, at 10:30 a.m. at the Queenship of Mary Catholic Church, Newport Avenue, Northampton, PA. Contributions: Bertha was blessed with a long life. Prayers of joy for her gifts to this world will be greatly appreciated. Published in Morning Call on September 12, 2013 Louis Paukovits Louis
Paukovits, 76, of Audubon, Pennsylvania, died on Thursday, September 12, 2013, in Paoli
Hospital.He is survived by his beloved wife of 52 years, Theresia (Jandrisevits) Paukovits. Born in Szentpéterfa (Petrovo Selo/Prostrum), Hungary, he was the son of the late Michael and Franziska (Geosits) Paukovits. Louis fled to America during the Hungarian Revolution of 1956 and became an American Citizen in 1957. He worked as a butcher, door man, and maintenance man until his retirement at the age of 65 years. Survivors: Surviving in addition to his wife; are his loving daughters, Mary Ann, wife of Robert Silvestri, Monica, wife of Tre Hilty; four loving grandchildren, Kelli M. Silvestri, Brian R. Silvestri, Abigail T. Hilty, Julia C. Hilty; sisters, Brigitte, Franziska, Erzsika, and Roszi. He was preceded in death by his brothers and sisters, Steve, Imre, Maria, and Theresa. Services: Relatives and friends are invited to attend his funeral Mass in St. Ann Catholic Church, Main Street at Third Avenue, Phoenixville, PA, on Tuesday, September 17, 2013, at 11 a.m. Burial will follow in St. Ann Cemetery, Phoenixville, PA. Relatives and friends may call at the Devlin Rosmos Kepp & Gatcha Funeral Home & Cremation Services, 517 S. Main Street at Fourth Avenue, Phoenixville, PA, on Tuesday morning from 9 to 10:30 a.m. Condolences may be given to the family at www.DevlinRosmosKepp.com. Contributions: In lieu of flowers, donations may be sent to the Alzheimers Foundation, 322 Eighth Avenue, 7th Floor, New York, NY 10001. Published in Morning Call on September 15, 2013 Bela Matzer Bela
Matzer, 86, of Melbourne, Florida, passed away peacefully at the William Childs Hospice
House on Saturday, September 14, 2013.Bela was born in Vaskeresztes (Grossdorf), Hungary on October 9, 1926, and immigrated to the United States in 1957. Bela resided in Clifton, NJ, until retiring to Florida in 1987. Bela was preceded in death by his wife of 53 years, Monika, in 2008. Bela is survived by his daughter, Erika McLaren, son-in-law, Bob McLaren, and grandson, TJ McLaren. A memorial gathering for family and friends will take place at Beach Funeral Home, 4999 N. Wickham Road, Melbourne, on Thursday, September 19, 2013 from 4 - 6 p.m. followed by a prayer service at 6 p.m. A Mass of Christian Burial will take place at Ascension Catholic Church, 2950 N. Harbor City Blvd, Melbourne, on Friday, September 20, 2013 at 11:30 a.m. In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made in Bela's memory to the Brevard Schools Foundation, 2700 Judge Fran Jamieson Way, Viera FL, 32940. Arrangements by Beach Funeral Home, West Chapel, 321-751-6012. Anyone wishing to share a memory, send the family a message or place a memorial donation is asked to please visit Bela's memorial page at www.beachfuneralhome.com. Published in FLORIDA TODAY on September 18, 2013 Walter Josef Tanczos Walter
Josef Tanczos, age 67, of New Paltz, New York, died Sunday, Sept. 22, 2013 at home
surrounded by his family.He was the husband of Carol Johnson. Born on Sept. 6, 1946, in Tobaj, Austria, he was the son of the late Eduard and Karoline (Richter) Tanczos. He was employed for 42 years by Smitty's Body Shop, New Paltz. Walter was a member of the First Burgenländer S.D.B.S., N.Y.C., N.Y. and he was a past member of the New Paltz Fire Department. Surviving in addition to his wife are children, daughter and son-in-law, Theresia and Anthony Jones of Princeton, N.C., daughter and son-in-law, Karoline and William Badner of Modena, son and daughter-in-law, Robert and Lisa Tanczos of Newburgh, and son, Michael Tanczos of Newburgh; six grandchildren: Dylon and Justin Jones, Karley and Paige Badner, Haylie and Mason Tanczos.He is also survived by his brother and sister-in-law, Irwin and Martha Tanczos of Queens, and his family in Austria: sister, Irene Hochtl, sister and brother-in-law, Christine and Irwin Mercsanits; half-brother and sister-in-law, Siegfried and Vera Tanczos; and several cousins, nieces, and nephews. Beside his parents he was predeceased by his brother, Josef Tanczos. Calling hours will be Wednesday Sept. 25, 2013 from 4 to 7 p.m. at Copeland Funeral Home, Inc., 162 South Putt Corners Road, New Paltz, N.Y. The funeral will be Thursday Sept. 26, 2013 at 10 a.m. at St. Joseph's Church, 34 South Chestnut Street, New Paltz where a Mass of Christian Burial will be Celebrated by Rev. Bernard M. Maloney, O.F.M. Cremation will take place in Poughkeepsie Rural Cemetery, Poughkeepsie. Memorial donations may be made to: Elting Memorial Library, 93 Main Street, New Paltz, N.Y., 12561; American Cancer Society , P.O. Box 22718, Oklahoma City, OK 73123-1718. Funeral Arrangements are by Copeland Funeral Home, Inc., 162 South Putt Corners Road, New Paltz, N.Y. 12561. (845)255-1212. If anyone wishes to express condolences online please go to www.copelandfhnp.com. Published in the Daily Freeman on September 24, 2013 |
END OF NEWSLETTER |
NOTICE (Terms and Conditions): The Burgenland Bunch (BB) was formed and exists to assist Burgenland descendants in their research into their heritage and, toward that end, reserves the right to use any communication you have with us (email, letter, phone conversation, etc.) as part of our information exchange and educational research efforts. • If you do not want your communication to be used for this purpose, indicate that it is "confidential" and we will abide by that request. • Correspondents who communicate with the BB without requesting confidentiality retain their copyright but give a non-exclusive license to the BB allowing us to forward to BB members, publish in our monthly newsletter or on our website, and/or subsequently and permanently archive all or parts of such communications. The Burgenland Bunch homepage (website) can be found at: http://www.the-burgenland-bunch.org/ Burgenland Bunch Newsletter, copyright © 2013 by The Burgenland Bunch All rights reserved. Permission to copy excerpts granted if credit is provided. |
News
Visit
to North America by the Bishop of the Eisenstadt Diocese: Bishop Dr. Ägidius J Zsifkovics
will head a delegation visiting North American Burgenland enclaves between October 18 and
October 28. He will be accompanied by his secretary, by Walter and Helene Dujmovits (BG
President and his wife), by Erwin and Friederike Weinhofer (BG Vice President and his wife),
and by Mr. and Mrs. Gollowitsch (a family that the Bishop lived with at one time).
The
St. Peter and Paul Roman Catholic Sick and Beneficial Society was formed on October 6,1913
by a group of approximately 120 far-sighted immigrants from Hungary. These men, many of them
alone in their adopted country, saw the need for mutual help in illness and death. After 100
years, we have Social and Active members, and we are still providing these benefits to our
Active members.
FamilySearch
Additions: As I've mentioned before, FamilySearch.org continues to add indexed
records and images at a furious rate. Among the tens of millions added these past two months,
I'll note a few:
Grape
Shortage on the Eisenberg: Burgenland ORF is reporting a severe shortage of white wine
grapes in the Eisenberg DAC region in Oberwart. This is a result of two violent hailstorms in
the early summer that destroyed almost 100 percent of the crop in places. The growers are
anticipating a shortage and, for certain quality wines, hoarding. With the main harvest began
on the Eisenberg near the end of September, it is expected to be very short season. The mature
grapes remaining on the vine are damaged and other grapes are a month delayed and unlikely to
sufficiently mature.
Golf
Anyone? Fritz Königshofer recently pointed out that an Oberwarter, Bernd Wiesberger, is
currently the best golfer in Austria. This year, he has been consistently near the top of the
European Tour (the equivalent of the American PGA Tour). At this summer's Johnnie Walker
tournament at Gleneagles in Scotland, he finished 4th, missing a playoff for the title by one
stroke. 
What
about Chess? Fritz also pointed out an article about a 9-year-old chess wiz from
Eisenstadt County (see 
the
house he was raised in is right across the street from my ancestral home location in Wallern).