Daddy, where did I come from?

All of my children knew from an early age that I found them inside a Cracker-Jack box. A little bit of corn, a little bit of nuts, and very sweet -- those are familial traits.

I'm actually leading into a discussion of evolution vs. creation (eventually), but what I know starts out this way.

Once upon a time in the far off Austro-Hungarian Empire, in a sleepy village called Kulpin, lived a certain Hrubik Pal who was married to a certain Hankovski Sophia. On August 2, 1832, they had a son, Hrubik Mihaly, who, on 7-23-1863, shortly after the Battle of Gettysburg (which he undoubtedly knew nothing about), married Kostolani Julianna (b. 9-8-1844). Not much is known of Mickey and Julie, either, but they appear to have moved to Julianna's hometown of Glozan.

Whether or not they were in a hurry to have a family is hard to judge, but a birth certificate in my clutches says that they had a son, Hrubik Pal (who was the father of Maria Hrubik Demrovsky) on June 18, 1897, and another son, Hrubik Mihaly, born February 2, 1882. The latter is far more interesting to me, not because he was born on Groundhog Day, but because I actually knew him. He was my grandfather.

At the age of ten, the younger Mihaly was left fatherless. When he was about 12, he was apprenticed as a tailor in Budapest. Upon becoming a journeyman, it was time to journey, and what better place than to the Golden Land -- America? On April 25, 1903, Hrubik Mihaly left Le Havre, France, in steerage on the liner La Savoie. Arriving at Ellis Island on May 2, 1903, bound for Akron, Ohio, he had $2.00 in his pockets. That he got there is evident; his brother Pal arrived September 5, 1903, headed for Akron to see his brother Mihaly at 130 Portage Path. Looking at the Auditor's card for that house, it appears that it might have been torn down and rebuilt in 1909. Or, the Auditor's card could be wrong.

According to his friend, Carl Cimarik, Mike was not yet converted. At about this time, the Apostolic Christian Church was undergoing the Great Mustache Upheaval. The Apostolic Christian Church in America was composed of numerous ethnic groups : Slovaks, Serbs, Hungarians, Germans, and Romanians. The German-speaking faction, mainly from Switzerland, Austria, and Germany, saw the mustaches (ethnic badges of manhood) of the Eastern European men as being too much like those of the greatly disliked Prussians, who controlled the German military and persecuted the church for its non-combatant beliefs. The Eastern Europeans, who all had common roots in the Old Country as “Nazarenes”, formed a separate large congregation. Grandpa was from Glozan, in the province of Serbia. While being fluent in six languages, including German, and having no particular fascination with mustaches (he was clean-shaven), his primary language was Slovak, and he aligned himself with the rebellious Nazarenes.

Unbeknownst (I kind of like that word) to young Mihaly, on July 7, 1891, in the Schwabian village of Mokrin, Austria-Hungary, a damsel named Knab Maria had been born. She may have been a bit of an adventuress, because on September 2, 1906, with her younger sister Anna, she set out from the port of Trieste on the good ship Gerty (what a rust bucket!!) to arrive at Ellis Island October 18, bound for the home of an older sister in Chicago. Both Maria and Anna had $16.00 apiece when they arrived, so doubtless they were in a bit better financial situation than Mihaly.

The guys at Ellis Island took note of Maria : 5' 4-1/2", fair complexion, yellow hair, and green eyes. Maria somehow made her way to Akron, where on November 27, 1910, at the tender age of 19, she married Mihaly. The rest is history. So was whatever came before, but that little blurb is required in every good tale, somewhere. I'll try not to use it again, though.

Mike (formerly known as Mihaly) and Maria -- my grandparents -- immediately began the fruitful multiplication business. In 1911 ( nine months to the day after their wedding) Emil was born, and then in 1913 came another Mike. Uncle Mike related that their mother’s health was not good, and the warmer climate around Richmond, Virginia was suggested. A number of Slovaks lived in the area just southeast of Richmond, near Seven Pines. Uncle Joe said that the reason the group left Akron and went to Virginia was that they had heard a farmer could raise two crops a year there. Grandpa took his family there in 1914, and Carl (Dad) debuted on August 13 of that year. Paul, Dan, and Joe followed him into this world.

When Uncle Joe was five, my grandmother died (1926). Grandpa moved his family back to Akron in the spring of 1927. It seems that the tailoring business offered better opportunities in Akron than in Richmond. Besides, the Richmond church had no Sunday School, and Grandpa had 6 boys to train. Dad and Uncle Mike often told of the trip to Akron -- how they butchered their pet billy goat in order to have food for the trip, and how their dog, Prince, ran away the first night out and was never seen again.

Grandpa remarried a few months later, and his new 22 year old bride inherited a house full of wild boys, some in their mid- teens. The family suffered some upheavals during this time. When Dad was 14, he came home from school one day to find the house (at 658 Euclid Avenue) quarantined -- Paul had contracted meningitis, and died very quickly. Uncle Emil, especially, was not going to be ordered about by a new mother who was only six years older than himself, and left home when he turned 18, joining the Navy. Dad would not see him again until Uncle Emil, by then a captain, looked him up at Pearl Harbor.

Grandpa was eventually chosen as a minister for the Akron Church, and when the Slovak faction separated to form the East Akron congregation, he was chosen as their Elder in 1932. During the years as elder for the East Akron church, Grandpa was sometimes called upon to serve other small Slovak congregations. One of these was in Harrow, Ontario. Sometimes Dad drove Grandpa to Harrow, and sometimes Uncle Joe. In this way Dad got to know some of the church members there.

Well, that's enough history for one day.