Although we were not even born yet, my sisters' and my life changed forever 54 years ago on October 23, 1956. That is the day the Hungarian Revolution started. It is not only our lives, but countless thousands of others lives which also changed on that unforgettable day.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hungarian_Revolution_of_1956If you click on the above website, on the right hand side, you will the statue of Stalin, toppled by the Freedom Fighters. Here is what was left of his boots, as the weary rejoiced. Unbeknownst to them, just a bit to soon, for the worst was yet to come.
The other picture depicts Stalin's boots as they look today. Tucked
away in a corner of Budapest, where all the statues of the communist era have been placed. In Memento Park, also called Szobor (Statue) Park.
http://www.szoborpark.hu/index.php?Lang=enIt is kind of a strange sight to see these boots just sitting there so high up and so empty. The statue of Lenin also rests there. It is a very unusual Park, full of the Communist era statues that once graced the streets and parks of Budapest. It should be on any one's list who visits Budapest. A very unusual, one of a kind park.
At the first of planning this park, many people were against it. It is a horrific reminder of 40 years of oppression and terror that many have tried to forget. It was eventually built anyway, and I think the people of Budapest have come to accept it.
Perhaps it is a good reminder of what can happen if we don't step in to help our
fellow man. The reason I say that, is because the HU people asked for help from abroad. From America, and they were denied. What would have become of HU if the US had lended a hand. Wow my life would be so different.
Here is brief history of what happened to the Country on October 23, 1956:
The Hungarian Revolution of 1956 (Hungarian: 1956-os forradalom) was a spontaneous nationwide revolt against the government of the People's Republic of Hungary and its Soviet-imposed policies, lasting from 23 October until 10 November 1956.
The revolt began as a student demonstration which attracted thousands as it marched through central Budapest to the Parliament building. A student delegation entering the radio building in an attempt to broadcast its demands was detained. When the delegation's release was demanded by the demonstrators outside, they were fired upon by the State Security Police (ÁVH) from within the building. The news spread quickly and disorder and violence erupted throughout the capital... (Wikipedia)
Here is brief history of what happened to my family, how we came to live in America, the land of the free, instead of Hungary, the land of oppression. However oppressed, I still love it there, and I have many wonderful memories.
First a little background. My parents were not married until 2 years after escaping Hungary. They however had been childhood friends. My dad went to school with my mom's older brother, Pistabacsi. They lived probably a 2 minute walk from each other. Dad has one younger brother, Tibor. Mom comes from a large family, 8 children (4 girls and 4 boys) 2 being from Grandpa's first marriage, they however have just always been called brother and sister, never 1/2. They were both married and I believe they both had families of their own.
In this picture taken in 1968 my parents first return to Hungary. Back row is my Grandma Schmidt, Grandma Lorik, Grandpa Lorik, Pirineni, Marika neni (deceased, 1/2 sister) my mom, and Grandpa Schmidt. Front row: Auntie Eva, Cousin Laci (Marikaneni's 2nd son) Me, at at he ripe old age of 51/2, Uncle Karcsi, Cousin Tibi (Pirineni's youngest of 3), his sister Pirko,and my sister at 8 1/2.
When my parents left, Auntie Eva was about 3 and Uncle Kracsi was about 10 ish or so. Dad's brother Tibor was also about 10 when Dad left. It was not an easy decision, a lot of thought had been put into this escape. Here is what I have been told:
This information is obtained from my mom. She is now 75 years old, and was just 21 years old when this took place. She has gotten a bit forgetful over the years, but this story always stays the same. On my drive home from work this afternoon, I once again asked her about their road to freedom. Again, she gave me the same story, this time, I will make sure it is saved for my daughter, for my cousins, and for more generations to come.
Their story actually starts a few weeks before October 23. My mom had/has cousins that live in the town of Sopron. [This town is about 8 km to the Austrian border. Mom said that you could stand in the cousins backyard and see the flags of the border. ] Grandma and Grandpa had felt the unrest approaching in Budapest. The people were unhappy and tensions were rising. They had taken the family to the cousins' home perhaps for some R&R or perhaps who knows why.
The idea of fleeing had been discussed among the older children. They were ready to go, but than Grandpa had decided against it. He opted to return the family to the house they rented
in Budateteny. [This is what the house looked like on a visit about 3 years ago. Not what it looked like when they lived there. It did not have indoor plumbing, only running water coming in, not going out. Hence I remember the fear of the huge hole on the outhouse potty.] When my mom said "Daddy let's go to Vienna", he said darling, "and leave all that we have back in the city. What is to become of all the things we leave behind?" [They lived in a rented house, the 6 kids and the 2 parents. Oh and they only rented the bottom half of the house. It had a small kitchen, a small room, and a large room.] Bless Grandpa's heart. It was however the neighborhood hangout. I guess since they had so many kids, all their friends in the area hung at their house. Mom told me many times before, of Miki bacsi, one of their friends, who was an only child. During WWII they had enough money to actually buy meat. He however loved to hang at my Gma's house. He always said she made the best soup. (Rations to feed a family of 8, what else could you make?)
So the family headed back to Budapest. A few days later it was October 23, 1956 and all hell broke loose. There were many uncertainties, but living this life is not how my mom and dad had wanted to live. They got their friends, family, siblings, and cousins together and decide to leave Hungary. One of Dad's cousins, Pentz Joszi had a friend who was a truck driver, he had offered to take them to freedom. The plan fell through. As did numerous others.
They had all decided it was time to go. It was going to be mom's older brother Pista bacsi, my mom and dad (not yet married) mom's younger brother, Tibibacsi, (Yes many family members named Tibor and Pista). Some friends were supposed to also go. It had been planned and discussed. It was December 1, 1956. They had been living in fear and hell for over 6 weeks now. Things needed to change. It was decided.... They would meet at mom's house early in the morning, head to the train station and go to Vienna, to freedom . Well of course plans always change. Pista bacsi had decided to stay behind, he said that someone had to take care of their parents, and the little ones, the younger siblings being only 3 and 10ish. I think a few other friends also backed out. Mom, Dad, Tibibacsi (mom's brother), and a few others stuck to their plan, one of those friends, Metkovics Joszi, eventually ended up in Australia. Mom said that Gpa walked them up the stairs, arms around their shoulders, and said, He wished them the best of luck and hoped they succeeded. I don't know what Gma said, but I am sure it was heart felt, and tearful.
They headed over to Kelenfoldi Train Station to purchase tickets to Vienna. (Same place were Sophie, Mom and I arrived home on our last visit to Vienna) They carried minimal items. Mom said only a change of underclothes. In case they were caught, so they did not look suspicious. They purchased tickets and boarded the train. There they unexpectedly met up with one of my dad's cousins (7 sisters in that family) and her husband and daughter. Margitneni, Feribacsi and little Margit ( she was about 5 or 6 yo). Sounds to good and to easy to be true, well yes, it was. The ticket collector announced 1/2 way to the border, "Anyone planning on escaping and staying in Vienna, get off now, they are waiting for you at the border." Mom said that 90% of the train emptied out. It was now about 2:00 in the afternoon. Even though it was December 1, there were still plenty of hours of daylight left. Both good and bad. As they exited the train, they headed west. For west was Austria, and that meant freedom.
Of course they had to stay off the main roads, those held the incoming Russian troops, and their compatriots. So they walked through the farmers plowed fields. Mom said that the fields had large clumps of dirt, making walking very difficult. She also said that their feet had been bloodied from the shoes rubbing. (Again, probably not wearing sensible shoes). So their little group of 7 or 8 took turns carrying little Margit, since walking for with those tiny feet had been even more difficult than for the adults. Numerous times they had to take cover and hide for the incoming troops had sent up missiles, and were scanning the area for people trying to leave from Hungary.
They had been walking for hours. As night fell, they took cover in the enormous hay stacks. They dug small holes and climbed in, this served 2 purposes, protection and warmth. As dawn broke on the following day, someone in the group had awoken early, in turn, rousing the rest of the group when the roar of the incoming trucks had been heard. For they needed better hiding spots. As the sun rose higher on the horizon, they realized that as of some time last night, they had crossed the border and spent their night of slumber in the hay stacks in freedom. Freedom to do as you choose, freedom to work where you would like, freedom to speak your mind, freedom to make your own decisions. They had unknowingly crossed the border in the dark. They had made it, they were finally free.
The incoming trucks had been Austrian Military Vehicles that were picking up the refugees and taking them to camps. Camps where they received food, clothing, shelter and assistance and mom mentioned they also received chocolate. Something mostly unheard of in Hungary since the war. As their little group was collected and taken to the village a great weight had been lifted off their shoulders. They had made it. Now they faced the uncertainty of what was to happen next. At the camp, they had an opportunity to do some work. Dad had helped out by bringing in beds from the Red Cross and getting them set up. While he was on his work duty, the Red Cross came around and said that anyone not wanting to go to America would be moved to another camp. Mom's younger brother Tibibacsi told my mom that they should stay in Europe and go to Belgium, thinking that his way they would still be close enough to the family when the dust over Europe settled. With having made this decision, they were moved to another camp, while the ones going on to America remained where they were. Dad was one of those who was not moved. He had finally obtained a sponsor. Actually all the people coming from Budatetny had been sponsored. This was done my dad's cousins and her husband. Schillinger Gyuszi bacsi and Bozsi neni. (Bozsi neni and Margit neni are sisters). They had to good sense to leave Hungary when WWII first broke out. I remember them fondly, they had an import store in Cleveland when we were kids, and had the best marzipan in the red wrapper. Ahh the store smelled wonderful, I will never forget that smell.
By Christmas time, dad was on a ship headed for America, which had departed from Bremerhaven, Germany. He landed in New York, sometime at the beginning of January 1957. From there he headed to over Cleveland, to his cousin Bozsineni. Mom and Tibibacsi stayed in the Austrian camp until some time in June 1957. From there, they received sponsorship from a classmate of Tibibacsi's in Puerto Rico, his name, Fulop Gyuszibacsi. Once they had realized how bad an idea Belgium was, they had been told by him to only accept either the United States or a Territory of the US. So they headed off to Puerto Rico, there they were welcomed by a super wonderful group of Hungarians. I will never forget Mikibacsi and Maryneni. They have long since passed, but they visited us many times when we were younger. Mikibacsi was also from Hungary, and Maryneni was a native of Puerto Rico. Ohh that lady could cook.
Tibibacsi left Puerto Rico before my mom, he had been working for a company in Puerto Rico that had another facility in either New Jersey or New York. They had asked that he come and work on the mainland. He obliged, for a while anyway. He soon left that position and headed to Cleveland, I would imagine, to be near friends and people he knew. Mom did not leave the Island until a few months later.
Mom and Dad were married on October 4, 1958. It was a quiet ceremony, just a few friends and cousins attended, and of course Tibibacsi, the only immediate family mom had here. A very interesting thing happened on October 4, 1958. My Uncle Pistabasci (mom's older brother) was also married. He married Erzsineni, a great lady, (kind of like my second mom) on the same day. Their son Tomi and are only 3 months apart, almost to the day. We were very close at once. As our lives changed we grew apart a bit, but still reminisce over some great memories when we do see each other.
As my family reached freedom, they realized this freedom came with a price. The cost of this freedom was their family. It took almost 10 years for my parents to have the courage, and the money to return to Hungary. It was their first trip back. And our first trip ever. I was only 5 1/2 at the time, but remember some things like they were yesterday. I returned again in 1971 when Grandpa Schmidt was sick, he passed away whilewe were there. I remember my dad lovingly taking care of him, and shaving him. I again returned in 1974 when Grandpa Lorik was sick. This visit was with my mom, Uncle Tibor and T Jr. He passed away about 6 months later. What I remember most about him, was cooking palinka (moonshine) in Grandma's kitchen. :D I only saw my Grandfathers a few times, when they came to America to see how their children had prospered and when we visited. I spent more time with my Grandmothers, they both died in the 1980's.
I have had the opportunity to visit my parents homeland many times. During the 1980's I went every year, except 1986, Chernobyl rerouted me to Hawaii. I went numerous times during the 90's and eventually moved there in I think 1999.
I remember getting off the plane in 1980, the airport was patrolled by Hungarian soldiers carrying machine guns. I was a mere child of 17. Wow it blew my mind. What did I get my self into? Then in 1989, Hungary opened it's border to Austria. This in turn caused the fall of the iron curtain and communism. It was amazing to see the changes to the country. To see the changes rise out of the oppression, like a flower blooming. There have been many many changes to my parents homeland, some being good, others not. The best is now they too are free.
I sit and wonder what our lives would have been like if my parents had not taken the risk back on that December morning. What would I be, where would I be, who would I be.
She was very moved by this memorial, and became very quiet (something that is very rare). She asked about the little baby shoes, I 
I am 
Family ... and lots of it. One of the bad things, but on the other hand good things (that 's the Libra in me, I have to be fair) is having so much family to visit. They are a fun group, especially now that the younger cousins are have gotten older and have kids. The family has really grown. My mom has 7 siblings. 2 have since passed, mom and 1 uncle living in the states, the rest in 
This elderly man would come around the neighborhood, you could hear the clanking of the bottles. We would run to see him, an oddity for us, since mom bought soda water from the local A&P, not the wagon. It turned out, this elderly man, was actually a good family friend of my parents. His daughter, who moved to the states lived about
