Saved by God's Grace....

On October 25th, during the first opportunity that presented itself, my father left Oroszlanbanya to try to make his way back to Budapest. He easily found transportation to the town of Bicske where he planned to transfer onto another train to Budapest.

When the train to Budapest finally arrived and everyone had boarded, my father recalls that all of his fellow passengers were discussing the uprising. No one knew what exactly had happened or what was going on in their city. Everyone was attempting to analyze the situation and interpret the events as best as they could. The anticipation to get to their destination and witness in person what was really happening was palpable in those train cars.

About 13 kilometers from the Budapest-Kelenfold Station, the train came to an abrupt halt. The passengers were told that the train would not be allowed to continue on to the city. My father took it upon himself to find the conductor and asked what had just happened and what they were supposed to do. The conductor responded that he was planning to disconnect the postal car from the rest of the train and continue on that way in order to make it home to his family. He told my father that if he acted quickly he could join him and complete the journey to Budapest. Hearing this, my father and a few other passengers jumped onto the postal car and they sped away with the conductor to Kelenfold Station. Once there, they discovered the station packed with people. The city was now in curfew and no one dared leave in order to go to their homes as the Soviets were threatening to shoot anyone they saw on the street after curfew.

My father walked to the station exit and looked out at the empty street ahead. Three young men let my father know that that particular area around the station was controlled by the freedom fighters and urged him to leave the station with them. He did. They walked out into the desolate streets keeping close to the walls and shadows in order to remain unseen. My dad remembers the city gave the impression of being haunted in its solitude and silence. All of a sudden, the small group's progress was halted as a car drove up to them. They stood petrified not knowing who was inside. Thankfully, the men in the car were supporters of the freedom fighters and offered my father a ride to his sister's home. Just as my dad thought he was finally on the last leg of his trip, the car was stopped by a band of freedom fighters warning them that Soviet tanks were coming and that they must immediately turn around.

My father did not want to retrace his steps so he got out of the car, and hunkered down in the shadows. The last thing that he wanted was to come face to face with the Soviets. He stood in the gateway of a darkened building and looked around for safe sidestreets down which he could escape. Finally he realized that just a few buildings away was the apartment where his mother's former doctor's widow lived. He knocked on her door and was let in. As he stepped through the threshold a resounding blast of gunfire was heard that rattled the entire building. No one dared look to see what had happened. My father finally fell into a restless sleep on the widow's sofa. He awoke the next morning at 7am but could not leave her home as curfew would not lift until 8:30am. He sat and had breakfast with the widow's nephew, and as soon as he could, he left in order to find his own family.

Once on the street he walked back towards the building where he had gotten out of the car. The same building where he stood surveying the neighborhood to find his best way out the night before. My father remembers his blood running cold as he saw that a huge gaping hole had appeared in the front of that building overnight. He knew in that instant that only minutes after he had left that building's gate, and just as he was walking into the widow's apartment, a Soviet tank had shot at the edifice. It was but by the grace of God that my father had acted as quickly as he had. A moment or two of hesitation would have seen him blown away along with the front of the building that he was standing next to. Hearing him recall this story gives me chills and a feeling I cannot describe in the pit of my stomach. Once again, he had angels watching over him. I have no doubt of this.