Memories of Dad continued (See Memories in earlier blogs)
Dad was not as much of a fighter as Mom. He was resigned to a lot. Like living in the city. I asked him about that once and he said he loved New York because he had met Mom here and because we kids were here. When he was demoted (today it would be downsized) in his job after years of hard work, because of all the layoffs, he took it quietly but I know he was hurting inside. Life is not fair - Mom hated that and ranted and raved against injustice. Dad just sat and took it. Maybe it built up inside him, boiled, festered. Maybe that’s why his temper explosions were so scary.
Dad was conservative, too, in his politics. He was very patriotic. He loved America and he believed in everything this country did. He would have gladly fought in any war and died for his country. In fact he tried to enlist in WWII but was refused because of his age and his job at a defense plant. I wonder what would have happened had he lived through Vietnam. Would we have had terrible clashes about that war which I opposed? I wonder.
I appreciated that Dad could listen to me and share my problems and even confide in me about his own personal conflicts. Many times we walked and talked quietly. He listened and told me his problems too. He didn’t solve any but it was so good to be comforted and to know that he had problems too.
Born in Erie, Pennsylvania, Dad was the second child in a family of four boys and three girls. He grew up speaking Hungarian. When his older brother Joe started school at Sacred Heart Parochial School, Dad missed him so much that the nuns let him come to school, too, at age four. But he spoke no English and Uncle Joe had to translate for him. Dad remained bilingual all his life. Dad told me once that no one could trace the roots of the Hungarian language; it is not related to any of the Indo-European tongues. I was fascinated by the strange-sounding and mysterious-looking language that I heard him use with my grandparents and that I saw embroidered on the wall hangings in their home.
Young John or Janos (his parents called him “Yanch”) was an altar boy at the Hungarian church. He would go to two churches every Sunday, first to serve on the altar in the Hungarian liturgy, then to Mass in English.
Dad did not like high school at all and dropped out after two years. He would always be defensive about his deficient education; perhaps that was why he valued learning so much and like Mom, encouraged his children to get as much schooling as they could.
Aunt Elizabeth remembers walking home from the store when she was six or seven years old. She met Dad (he was 16 or 17 at the time) and he told her he was leaving, to say goodbye to Mom and Pop. He would up in Ohio and came home a few years later. Once again he encountered his sister Elizabeth , this time on the train. He was very ill with the flu. Later he went to New York because Aunt Anna and Aunt Helen, my grandmother’s sisters, visited Erie with stories of how it was easier to find work in New York City. Dad lived with Aunt Anna in NY. This was the time of the Great Depression and finally Dad took advantage of one of the programs of the New Deal; he joined the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) and traveled to Idaho and Wyoming to fight forest fires and plant trees. This experience shaped his life immensely and enkindled a great love of nature that he passed on to all of us.
Dad was not as much of a fighter as Mom. He was resigned to a lot. Like living in the city. I asked him about that once and he said he loved New York because he had met Mom here and because we kids were here. When he was demoted (today it would be downsized) in his job after years of hard work, because of all the layoffs, he took it quietly but I know he was hurting inside. Life is not fair - Mom hated that and ranted and raved against injustice. Dad just sat and took it. Maybe it built up inside him, boiled, festered. Maybe that’s why his temper explosions were so scary.
Dad was conservative, too, in his politics. He was very patriotic. He loved America and he believed in everything this country did. He would have gladly fought in any war and died for his country. In fact he tried to enlist in WWII but was refused because of his age and his job at a defense plant. I wonder what would have happened had he lived through Vietnam. Would we have had terrible clashes about that war which I opposed? I wonder.
I appreciated that Dad could listen to me and share my problems and even confide in me about his own personal conflicts. Many times we walked and talked quietly. He listened and told me his problems too. He didn’t solve any but it was so good to be comforted and to know that he had problems too.
Born in Erie, Pennsylvania, Dad was the second child in a family of four boys and three girls. He grew up speaking Hungarian. When his older brother Joe started school at Sacred Heart Parochial School, Dad missed him so much that the nuns let him come to school, too, at age four. But he spoke no English and Uncle Joe had to translate for him. Dad remained bilingual all his life. Dad told me once that no one could trace the roots of the Hungarian language; it is not related to any of the Indo-European tongues. I was fascinated by the strange-sounding and mysterious-looking language that I heard him use with my grandparents and that I saw embroidered on the wall hangings in their home.
Young John or Janos (his parents called him “Yanch”) was an altar boy at the Hungarian church. He would go to two churches every Sunday, first to serve on the altar in the Hungarian liturgy, then to Mass in English.
Dad did not like high school at all and dropped out after two years. He would always be defensive about his deficient education; perhaps that was why he valued learning so much and like Mom, encouraged his children to get as much schooling as they could.
Aunt Elizabeth remembers walking home from the store when she was six or seven years old. She met Dad (he was 16 or 17 at the time) and he told her he was leaving, to say goodbye to Mom and Pop. He would up in Ohio and came home a few years later. Once again he encountered his sister Elizabeth , this time on the train. He was very ill with the flu. Later he went to New York because Aunt Anna and Aunt Helen, my grandmother’s sisters, visited Erie with stories of how it was easier to find work in New York City. Dad lived with Aunt Anna in NY. This was the time of the Great Depression and finally Dad took advantage of one of the programs of the New Deal; he joined the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) and traveled to Idaho and Wyoming to fight forest fires and plant trees. This experience shaped his life immensely and enkindled a great love of nature that he passed on to all of us.
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