To us,
it seemed to be a chaotic place. There we were on foot crossing a
four-lane with no traffic lights, dodging cars and racing across the street
with luggage. It was cold as ____. We could find no one who
spoke English, I began to feel scared. I have been a lot of places &
seen a lot of things but this place had me worried.
We were approached by a ruthless looking man who spoke gibberish
English...he was a taxi driver. We managed to understand Temeswar
(Timisoara) was about an hour away and he could drive us there. Great,
now we are getting somewhere. Oh yeah, this turned out to be a
ride from ____! This man did not know the words "SLOW DOWN" and there were
no speed limit signs. He was all over the road. I got a lot closer to
the Lord during that ordeal...
As 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.
As we
approached a city, I looked up into the sky and there was an iron sign
scrolled "TIMISOARA” spanning across the four-lane highway. We
were almost there! To what, we would soon find out. The
streets we drove through were almost like ghettos. In a moments flash
the driver stopped and hollered, "get out!" – “Where are we?” I asked... and
no one spoke English. 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 I
guess our minor adventure was nothing compared to what they endured.
We were left feeling abandoned in the
middle of the ghettos. We eventually accepted a ride with another taxi
driver, who didn't speak English at all! By this time I began to
feel a little discouraged. As we rode down the streets we
watched for anything that looked official, like an American Embassy.
We
finally spied what looked to be a police department & told the driver to
stop. We got out with luggage in both hands and looked stranded, as we
were - worn out looking and hungry. There were people all around
starting at us, I attempted to communicate with them. Someone said
"wait - just wait."
We stood there
looking stupid and after a while, along came two Latter Day Saints
Missionary Boys. I sure was glad to see them. They were
from the US and said they are as glad to see us. As there were not
that many Americans there to chat with. They showed us around the town
& helped us locate a Hotel.
We checked into
the Continental Hotel (don’t go there). After we dropped our
bags, freshened up, we decided to find a place to eat. On our way out
to dinner we stopped at the concierge desk. I asked for their local
telephone book & looked up the last name "Ingrisch" and there were 2
listings. The concierge made the calls for me. The first # was disc.
The second number a lady answered and said to call back in the evening when
'the man of the house' was home.
We went
to dinner, I didn't eat much, I was unsure of what I was ordering.
After dinner we hailed a taxi to drive us around. Taxi fare was
inexpensive; as a matter of fact everything there was. You could cash
in $100 & instantly be a millionaire, well almost.
I have to admit I was a little 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 my hubby waited in the taxi, I rang the bell at the gate near the
street. Momentarily a very handsome man professionally dressed came
out. I announced who I was & where from. He immediately said "Oh
yes, we heard about the call this afternoon, come in" - With a big
smile on my face, I called for my hubby and in we went. The man went
to the taxi, paid him and sent him away.
As soon as we went in the house the "lady of the house" Eugenia Ingrisch
began hugging me. She was crying and talking, but I couldn't
understand a word she said. 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 the brother to Josef.
His name was Alex Ingrisch and he & his wife Gutwein had just flown in that
day from Germany where they live.
They
invited us to sit at a “very” large table and the lady brought out fresh
made apple strudel and home made wine & Turkish coffee...it was very strong.
They seemed to be as glad to see us as we were to see them. We were
strangers and they took us in, 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 of us in America are 1st or 2nd generation
Americans. Like me, some of you reading this may not know your family
history, 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 had paid
more attention to him 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 they drove us around town and took us 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. I realized
that night how small the world really is. And sometimes we can't see
the forest for the trees. We get so caught up in out lives and the
details of the every day that 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. I know that had to be heart
wrenching.
Our visit to Mercydorf was a
memorable one. My discoveries have been enlightening not only for
ancestral facts but also for self-discovery.
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 we left on our trip, I 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 mention of this and he scooped up a bag full of dirt, which we
confiscated back into the US. (seen in the last picture)
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.
There was one store in the entire village that I recall. Actually it
was directly across from the Ingrisch house. The school is very
small and the toilet is outback of the building. The one room
schoolhouse is heated by one stove in the room. The people there are
very poor. Mostly you see horse & wagons, few cars, at least
during the day. We were told there are only 3 phones in the village.
Each family there has a small plot of land, very small. But the
utilize every bit for vegetables and grapes.
Everyone we met was gracious and happy to see us. 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. We took videos for the most part then our
battery ran out. Guess I should not have kept it on during the train
ride. We learned the voltage is different there; we couldn't recharge
our video camera! We couldn't even use our blow dryer, which was
devastating! 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. I love their accent!
Finally we left the village and parted ways with the Ingrisch family we had
met. We spent the rest of that day in the town of Timisoara doing
research. We wound up in the Mayor's office. His assistant
spoke English and again we were blessed. We 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...we were due to return to Budapest via the same route we rode
in on. We would have to pass the Mercydorf on turn off on out way
towards Arad to get on the train. We 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. I had to go back.
This may be the only chance I have to see it again. I wanted to be
there, without a crowd about us, as the day before. I wanted to
feel it, see it, smell it, to try 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. I knew I probably
would 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 what I
had learned, despite the hardships German Banater's 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
