I dedicate my venture those who came before me, my Grandmother Katharina Marie Ingrisch later known as Katie Marie Donaldson, my Great Grandparents Martin Ingrisch & Mary Elizabeth Marmon, my Donauschwaben roots..
 
     I always knew my ancestors were German-Catholics from Austria-Hungary.  When I decided to take a trip, I thought what better place than the homeland of my ancestors, Hungary.  So I booked a flight to Budapest.  Up to one week before my departure, I didn't own a computer and had not prepared for this genealogical adventure.  With no experience researching records, I thought visiting the Budapest archives was where to find family records.

     My Grandmother Katie spoke often of Temeswar, but I couldn't find it on a map; so I finally went to the library & after searching, I located it on an old gazette.  Temeswar, today is "Timisoara" and a territory of Romania.  YIKES...... that was quite a distance from Budapest!
 
     In March 1999 I departed for Europe; it was a very long flight.  Once in Budapest I began asking around about traveling to Romania, everyone advised me not to go, especially without a guide who can translator.  Even still, I just had to go.  Katie's homeland was a four hour train ride away.  A driving passion kept my sights on Temeswar.
 
      I departed Budapest by train to Romania, a clear day & extremely cold.  Budapest main train station, a grand old building.

     The first hour seemed to go by fast, then time began to drag.  I didn’t know what to expect upon arrival. The countryside of the southeastern Hungary is beautiful, neither words nor pictures can truly describe it. 
 
     As the train hurried down the track my eyes stared out the window, as the empty fields, small villages, horse-drawn wagons and schools of ducks whizzed by.  As we approached the border, the sound of the train seem to get louder, ca-chug-a-chug... ca-chug-a-chug, and then the brakes went on and the whistle blew.  I could see the border patrol with rifles strapped to their sides. 
 
     Several Romanian police rushed into the train cars.  They searched everywhere, asked us how much money we had, checked our bags and looked under our seats.  For cast-a-ways? For drugs?  I didn't understand a word they said, but they finally left the train car and returned to their post.
 
     After the border fright....we moved on into Romania.  All of a sudden the scenery changed.  Many areas of Romanian scenery was much like what I had seen on TV of Kosovo?  Unlike the charming villages we passed in Hungary, the villages we were old and run down.  It was sad and I cried as I saw this, wondering how my mother would feel if she was seeing this. 

     Arrival at the train station in Arad, Romania.

Arad Train Station (front) 1999

Arad Train Station (back) 1999

     Arad seemed to be a chaotic place, four-lane streets with no traffic lights, dodging cars and racing across the street with luggage.  It was cold as ____.   I tried to ask for help and directions but no one who spoke English, and I began to feel scared.  I've been a lot of places & seen a lot of things but this place had me worried.
 
     I approached by a ruthless looking man standing beside a taxi, who turned out to speak gibberish English.  I managed to understand that Temeswar  (Timisoara) was about an hour.  Great, now I felt I was getting somewhere.   But this turned out to be a ride from ____! This man apparently didn't understand the words "SLOW DOWN" and I didn't see any speed limit signs; he was all over the road. 
 
     As we rode, I looked at the towns we passed and thought back when I was a child; we didn't have much and we knew hard times, but this would have been a very hard existence to bare.   I thought of my Great Grandparents who once lived in Banat and how we here in the US we take so much for granite.  Believe me, we do have so much to be grateful for.   
 
          Approaching a city, I looked up into the sky and there was an iron sign scrolled written "TIMISOARA” spanning across the four-lane highway.  We were almost there!  To what, I'd soon find out.   The streets we drove through were similar to ghettos.  In a moments flash the driver stopped and hollered, "get out!" – “Where are we?” I asked... and he pointed to another taxi driver.  Oh great here we go again, on another joy ride.
 
     Thinking of all this was another reminder how my family came to the US to have a better way of life for themselves and their children.  Who crossed their homelands by wagons, trains and then across the ocean by steamship - traveling with hundreds of other people in steerage!  So my minor adventure was nothing compared to what they had endured. 
 
     Just as I was feeling abandoned in the middle of the ghettos, I spotted another taxi driver, who didn't speak English at all!   By this time I began to feel discouraged and wished I had heeded the advice of the hotel employees in Budapest.   Riding down the streets I watched for anything that looked official. I finally spied what looked to be a police department & told the driver to stop.  With luggage in both hands and looking stranded, worn out looking and hungry; some friendly locals attempted to communicate and I determined they were saying "just wait." 

     After standing there for a while, along came two American Latter Day Saints Missionary Boys.  I sure was glad to see them.  and they were happy to meet me also; as they said there were not many Americans there to chat with.  We went by foot as they showed me around the town, pointing out places of interest like the archives building, the Mayors office and nearby hotels.
 
     I checked into the Continental Hotel (don’t go there).  After freshening up, on the way out to get something to eat, I stopped at the concierge desk and asked for their local telephone book.  I looked up the last name "Ingrisch" and there were 2 listings of which the concierge made the calls for me. The first # was disconnected and the second number a lady answered and said to call back in the evening when 'the man of the house' was home.
 
     At dinner, I didn't eat much, I was unsure of what I was ordering.  After dinner I hailed a taxi to drive around to see the area while I waited till the time to call again to the Ingrisch family.  I was nervous about meeting possible distant relatives.  I had the cabby take us to one of the addresses listed in the book. Based on what I had seen so far of the city, which was not that inviting, I just had to see what type of neighborhood they lived in.

     When we arrived at the house I was pleasantly surprised, it was a very nice home, with a gate around it, close to the street.  There is very little property surrounding the houses there.  Driving by was not enough for me,  I had make contact.  I had to see who answered.  I had to look into the eyes of a an 'Ingrisch!'
 
     While the taxi waited, I rang the bell at the gate near the street.  Momentarily a nice looking gentleman came out.  I announced who I was & where from.  He immediately said "Oh yes, we heard about your call earlier, come in."  With a big smile on my face, I entered their home.  The man went to the taxi, paid him and sent him away. 
 
     As soon as entered, the "lady of the house" Eugenia Ingrisch began hugging me.  She was crying and talking, but I couldn't understand a word.  She was Romanian - her husband "Josef Ingrisch" was German.  Neither spoke English.  But again as before with the missionary boys, we were blessed again with those who could speak English.  The man who came to the gate was Alex Ingrisch and he & his wife Gutwein had just arrived that day from Germany where they live; and they both spoke English fluently.
 
     We sat at a “very” large table and the Eugenia presented fresh made apple strudel and home made wine & Turkish coffee...it was very strong.   They seemed to be as glad to see me as we were them, I cried.  

     I only knew one grandparent in my lifetime, Grandmother Katie.  When she died at age 99 in 1992, I felt as if I no longer had roots.  At that moment for some strange reason, I felt at home, like I belonged.
 
     Most 1st or 2nd generation Americans, like me, may not know their family history, but I was about to learn.  For me, at that moment I couldn't have been at more peace.  I wished my mother could have been there to experience it with me.
 
     This family said their Great Grandfather had a brother who left for the US & never returned and never heard from him again.  Said he was a cabinetmaker, like my Great Grand Father.  They told us the history of the region and about the German Donauschwaben.   Said the Ingrisch family came to this region called "Banat" during the 1700's from Germany and part of the Ingrisch family had lived in the Village of Mercydorf about 20 minutes away.  We planned to go there the next day.
 
     The Ingrisch family spoke of the hardships they endured through the years of World War 2, as they ethnic Germans who did not comply with Hitler, were shipped off to labor camps.  They told us how they lost everything, even the homes that had been in the families for years, to the State of Romania, which operated the state work camps.  That means the state of Romania owned everything, that is until 1989 when Nicolae Ceausescu, 1918-1989 Communist official who was leader of Romania from 1965 was overthrown and assassinated in a revolution in December 1989.  I won’t attempt to repeat everything he said because during those moments those facts were not on sticking in my mind.  Unfortunately afterwards I wished I've paid more attention to what he was saying and took notes.  

     They were shocked I knew nothing about the history of Banat, saying to me “You don’t know your history?”  - I was embarrassed and ignorant, as I was.  But in my defense, my family were told to assimilate the American customs and not speak of the old country and we certainly were not taught about this forgotten people, the Donauschwabens of Banat in Austria-Hungary. 

     At the end of the nineteenth century, there were more than two million Germans living in Hungary. During the eighteenth century, the Habsburg monarchy of Austria, which ruled Hungary at that time, had enticed Germans to emigrate to the unsettled lands of Southern Hungary, which had been devastated by over 150 years of Turkish occupation.  From 1711 to 1750, approximately 800 villages were founded in Hungary by German settlers. The Banat Province was one of the primary areas of settlement.  See Map of the Origin areas of the Banater Schwaben to Temeschburg, Banat

     That night we drove around town and took me to a better Hotel, close to their home, the Perilla Hotel.  Thank God, another blessing. 
 
     Oh by the way 'this particular night' was the same night the air strikes started in Belgrade, 50 miles just south from where we were.  I was so excited that night, the events in Belgrade was the farthest thing on my mind. Yeah I was scared, but if I died that night I would have died a happy woman.
 
      I was about to go embark on a dream, to see the home village of my Great Grandfather, realizing how small the world really is; - and sometimes we can't see the forest for the trees.  Getting caught up in our daily lives we forget about those that not only came to America but those "they left behind” --parents, children and friends who they would never see again.  That had to be heart wrenching.
 
     Our visit to Mercydorf was a memorable one, for my ancestral discoveries were enlightening.
 
     We traveled to the "Village of Mercydorf" leaving the main highway to a less traveled road.  We had to drive through another village called Sankt Andrea.  The anticipation grew and I pondered thoughts of my Grandmother passing on this same road when she was a child.  I tried to imagine how it was through her eyes of a young girl.
 
     It was very cold that day just as it may have been on any day in Grandma Katie's life.  I wondered if they rode a train into town, as we passed over a train track.  Or maybe she rode in a horse drawn wagon like the one we had passed or did she have to walk.
 
     As we entered Mercydorf the first thing we saw was a Stork in her nest on a chimney top; --storks do exist after all; I had never seen one before.  The village was quaint & very well maintained.  They may have been poor but they were very clean and articulate.  What was once a thriving village was now like a ghost town.  See: Mercydorf Photo Gallery
 
     Most of the houses still had the family names etched over the top of the house.  I could not believe how these engravings still exist after all these years.  They took us to the "Ingrisch" house property, or what was once their home.  The last Ingrisch family who lived there returned to Germany in the late 1980's after the revolution.  The new home owner allowed us to look around and take pictures.  The original water well still stood.  The grape vineyard, the courtyard and gardens reminded me of Katie's I played around as a child at her home. 
 
     Before I left home, I had asked my Mother what she wanted me to bring her back, she replied "dirt" from the land of her Mother.  What better place to get it from but the Ingrisch yard.  The current owner overheard my mentioning of this and he scooped up a bag full of dirt, which we now today as a reminder of our family homeland.
 
     We visited the Mercydorf Cemetery and located 2 Ingrisch graves.  I know there are many we overlooked, the cemetery was rather large.  There were graves dating back to the 1700's.
 
     The grounds keeper (a kind man and his wife) opened up the Village Church.  It was built in 1737 and still looked great.  There were hand painted ceilings and murals.   They lit the candles and allowed us to take pictures.  Grandmother Katie spoke of the importance of the Church in their lives. 
 
      The only store in the entire village was directly across from the Ingrisch house.  The one-room school was very small, heated by a stove and the toilet was outback.   I saw few automobiles, but several horse & wagons, at least during the daytime.  I was told there are only 3 telephone lines in the village, at that time.  Each family there has a small plot of land, very small; but every bit of space is utilized for vegetables and grapes.
 
     Everyone we met was gracious and happy to see visitors.  The older women still wear long black skirts, black sweaters, black stockings and boots.  We were there during a week day, we assumed that is why we saw no children.

     We took many pictures and videos until the battery ran out.  Guess I should not have kept it on during the train ride from Budapest.  I learned the voltage is different there; and I couldn't recharge my video camera.  But I was able to capture Alex & Gertwin Ingrisch and Josef Ingrisch Jr., while at the cemetery.  Alex gave a short history of the German’s in the Banat, ending well it looks like you found your roots, here in Mercydorf!
 
     Finally we left the village and and I spent the rest of that day in the town of Timisoara doing research.  I ended up in the Mayor's office, whose assistant spoke English.  I toured the city; it is known for it's wonderful architectural buildings that have remained for centuries.
 
      That night I watched on TV the Air Strike in Belgrade news.  It was horrible to see what was going on.  And to think how close we were .....50 miles away.  It is a fact that invading hordes, ambitious empires and the cultural divide between east and west have left the Balkan Peninsula with a legacy of continual conflict.  Back at home while we watch TV footage of current day wars, it cannot depict the true impact, which takes place. 
 
     The next day . . . I was due to return to Budapest via the same route we rode in on.  I interviewed several taxi drivers and chose one that spoke some English and had a decent auto and who was willing to go to Mercydorf and drive us around, as we would have to pass the Mercydorf on our way back to Arad; -I just had to go back again.  This may be the only chance I have to see it again.  I wanted to be there in more of a quiet time.  I wanted to feel it, see it, smell it  and capture the memory in my mind.
 
    As we arrived in the Village of Mercydorf I was more acquainted with the surroundings.  The Stork still was nestled in her nest and the streets were still quiet.  Quite different I'm sure from a hundred years ago when the town was thriving.  
 
     The Donauschwaben Colonization came to be known as "der Grosse Schwabenzuge" or  "the Great Swabian Trek."  The region became known as "the Bread Basket of Europe."   The hardships endured by the groups of colonists is summarized in this known verse by their descendants:
 
"The first encounters death, the second need, only the third had bread"
    
     During our last tour through the village, we were blessed again with a woman who spoke English.  She was so kind, as everyone was.  She rode around with us, as we stopped and talked with anyone we saw.  She knew of the oldest lady in the village and took us to her house.  With the help of this young woman she communicated to the older woman who we were and if she had known the Ingrisch’s.  The girl said the woman told her she used to be an Ingrisch.  What we have determined, Ingrisch was possibly her maiden name.
 
    (Long after returning home I received an email from a fellow Banater – Oct 21, 2000: In the usual list of birth anniversaries which comes with each issue of the Banater Post is in the 5 Oct 2000 issue under the Village of Mercydorf (1) Maria Fedrich  geb  Ingrisch on 14 Oct in Mercydorf, She is 81.   This was a birthday announcement.  That had to been the lady we spoke with.   I do have pictures of her.  Note: Just days before I received that notice I received information regarding the Mercydorf Heimatbuch listing the Ingrisch families of Mercydorf 1940-45.  There were many.  One family being reported:  Jakob Ingrisch, wife Susanna Mehrfeld at house # 327 – also at 327 was Peter Fedrich, wife Maria Ingrisch, child Maria.   Sounds like that was she.) 
 
     Walking in the footsteps of my ancestors to see where they lived and experience how their daily lives may have been was very touching to me.  As I spent my last hours in Mercydorf, I walked about and cried, as thought I'd probably never return.  I looked out at the roads that branched off around the village and the winding lanes and scoured the houses that lined the streets.  I smelled the cold fresh air that brushed across my face.  And as we rode out of the village I looked back through the taxi window at the Ingrisch house one last time....saying goodbye.
 
     Reflecting on the trip and my discoveries, I learned despite the hardships the German Banaters had to endure, they never abandoned their hopes and dreams.  From where they began in Western Germany to the Austro-Hungarian Empire (now lands in Romania) to the ports of America and scatted around the world, there has been a definite impact on society, as we know it today due to the cultures and educational values brought forth by the Donauschwaben people. Their rich heritages and traditions have flavored the American Soup.
 
     In this age we hear a lot about diversity.  In most respects we tend to relate this issue to the African-American.  But diversity stretches over all races.  Let us not forget what is inscribed on the Statue of Liberty...
 
      Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning
      to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
      Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me.  I lift my lamp
      beside the golden door!"
 
      As am American...I inherited my passage rights, by those that came before me, those that struggled so I could have this life, as I know it.  The only true-blooded American's are the American Indian's.  The rest of us are here because someone else came before us.  I breathe free today and live in a land where I can worship as I choose.   We mustn't take that for granted.  History repeats it self, because man refuses to learn from the past.   We are history in the making; let's make the best of this life for our children and theirs.
 
Jody McKim © 2000
"Will Always Be Digging For My Roots"

Banat Trip 2004 & 2005 and Germany 2004:

I have not written my journal for the May 2004 trip yet, but I have published many of the photos taken of the villages and also more "new found" relatives.  

My hope is that you explore the links below and the images will take you on a journey that will spark your imagination to the wonders of the lifestyle our great grandparents once lived...  jody

Images - June 2004

Images - Sept 2005