Life Starts to Go Back to Normal....Or Does It?

After enduring weeks on end of torture, and interrogations my father and his fellow prisoners were called for a final meeting with their jailers. Names of other Boy Scouts were being called out and assigned to internment camps in Siberia. As each young man's name was called and led away, my father's blood ran cold wondering if he, too, would be sent away. Miraculously my father, his cousin Andras, and two other prisoners did not have their names called. They stood in utter shock and silence looking at each other. For about 20 minutes no one said a word or moved a muscle. Then, without further explanation, they were returned to their cells where they would spend six days in complete ignorance of what their fate was to be.

On the morning of the sixth day, my father was escorted upstairs to an office. A KGB agent asked him for his name, date of birth, birthplace, and other personal questions, then he was taken back to the dungeon. Later that evening he was called back upstairs and ordered into a prison bus which transported him back to the Hungarian Communist Political Police Headquarters. He stayed in a cell at the headquarters for another week and was finally released, without a dime, with a bruised body, swollen cheek and bloody nose, and made to walk 9km (just under 6 miles) to his home.

After walking for two hours, my father made it home and knocked at the window. He was pale and skinny and feared that his family would not recognize him. When his sister, Eva, looked out the window she screamed with relief and joy at seeing her brother and called out to their mother as she ran to open the door and let him in. My grandmother was ill at the time, but as soon as she heard that her son was home safe, she flew out of bed to see him. The neighbors made a delicious dinner and my father ate voraciously. Afterwards he was able to take a warm shower. His first time being able to use a proper bathroom and bathe in three months. He then got to sleep in his own, clean bed which felt like heaven after sleeping on a concrete slab for so long.

My father was allowed to rest for two days after returning home as it was September and school was about to resume. He would be entering the 7th grade which he remembers as being difficult and laden with many assignments. When summer rolled back around, he has fond memories of going on vacation with his classmates to Lake Balaton for three weeks where they swam, hiked, and rode bicycles. After the school trip was over, my father prepared to attend his sister's wedding. He remembers the church being crowded with all of the elite of prewar society in attendance. After summer ended, my father went back to hit the books and entered the 8th grade which he diligently studied his way through and was able to pass through with flying colors. Life was starting to feel as though it was going back to normal....but was it?

The Persecution of a Boy Scout...

With the passing of each day, the Communists in Hungary were growing stronger and soon had their hands in everything. They controlled the police, the Ministry of the Interior, and the courts. Everyone had to have background checks and a clearance via the Communist committee. Fortunately, as my grandfather had acted against the Nazis, he was given clearance, yet sadly, it would soon become clear that this "clearance" would not truly be enough.

The Communist Political Police and the KGB started a wild witch hunt, and while they did capture and prosecute many war criminals and sadistic extremists, they also victimized many innocent Hungarians. They removed the people's ability to go to Church and religious schools. The youth were not allowed to socialize in groups such as the Boy Scouts, and anyone belonging to the noble classes were closely monitored. My father remembers this time as being an era of fear, hatred and revenge.

Despite the Communist ban on groups like the Boy Scouts, my father continued meeting with his friends and their troop during school hours. They needed something to stay sane during this time of turmoil, and going on hikes in the mountains, doing homework together, and hanging out making jokes and conversing was one of the only things my father and his friends had left of their youth. Although they were offered to join the Communist Youth Movement, my father and his cronies refused. They contacted the Boy Scouts World Headquarters in London to let them know that the Scouts had been banned in Hungary, yet sadly there was nothing that the London office could do.

It wasn't long before my father started hearing from his friends that several of the boys they knew, as well as some of their professors were being arrested for their involvement with the Boy Scouts. It was assumed by the Communists that since the Scouts were in connection with London, and therefore with the US by proxy, that the Scouts were acting as spies of some sort and the boys were being prosecuted and persecuted as such.

On June 7th, 1946, at about 4:00 in the afternoon, two plainclothes Communist agents came to my father's apartment, arrested and took him to their headquarters. He was interrogated until 10:00p.m. and was then roughly placed into a jail cell where he saw several of his friends who had been arrested earlier. His mother and sister were scared and outraged. They immediately went to seek help from Vice Admiral William Dietrich of the U.S. Navy who was shocked to hear that teenagers were being arrested. He immediately commissioned two 2 Jeeps with six American G.I.'s to go to the Communist Party Headquarters and get my father out. It was to no avail. When they arrived at headquarters the Communist agents denied that they were arresting and incarcerating teens and were turned away. My father spent ten days in the cell not knowing how or when he would ever get out.

On the tenth day, my father would be allowed out of his cell....but where he would be sent after that would turn out to be far more torturous than he could've imagined...

Quo Vadis, Europa?

Much of my father's early childhood, aside from those very exciting occasions that I posted about earlier(!), were spent enjoying time spent with family, playing with his sister in the countryside, attending puppet shows, traveling throughout Hungary to visit relatives, going to school, traveling to France and Austria. He recalls these years as being very peaceful, happy and normal. It was not until 1938 that things started to go awry, and I know that is an understatement.

During one of the family trips to Austria in 1938, the Makays only made it as far as Monichskirchen and not all the way to Vienna as was accustomed. As they traveled to this smaller Austrian city they noticed that the traditional red and white Austrian flag was being replaced by flags bearing the Swastika. Austria had started its dark descent into Naziism. Being that the Makays were of nobility, it was decided that they should stay as under the radar as possible in order not to gain the attention of the Gestapo (Geheimstaatpolizei). This prompted my father and his family to stop traveling abroad soon after. With Austria as Hungary's neighbor to the West, Nazi propaganda quickly passed over the borders and into Hungary and became accepted in great part by many German expatriates who were living in Hungary at the time. This greatly shocked and saddened my grandfather and great grandfather, and their worries only grew as they watched more and more newsreels showing the people of Austria cheering Adolph Hitler on and welcoming them to their country.

My father recalls that when 1939 rolled around, his father and grandfather, as well as the other adult members of the family, started deeply worrying and discussing the political situation in Europe. They could only foresee a very dark future, especially since Hungary no longer had any form of strong defense with their very weak military. With Hitler to the West and Stalin to the East, Hungary was a sitting duck. My dad still recalls his father asking aloud "Quo vadis, Europa?" in consternation, and his grandfather stating "Someday we will all be homeless". A bitter prophecy that would all too soon become a reality.

A Brief History in Pictures

This past weekend, my father came over with the two albums of family photographs that he was able to acquire after his escape from Hungary in 1956...which is a story for another day. He sat with me over tea and patiently showed me each and every photograph, reliving the moments as if they were just yesterday. I find these moments with my dad both fascinating and heartbreaking. I have heard all of his stories time and again throughout my childhood, but the older my dad gets, the harder it is for me to see him so sad at the bitter memories of having his life and family literally torn apart by the invasion of Communist Russia....again, another story for another day.

In the meantime, I want to share some of the pictures from my father's albums.

1.My grandfather, Istvan Makay

2.My Aunt Eva, my father, and my grandmother Erszebet Makay.

3.My grandfather (on the left) with one of his assistants.

4.Our family's Coat of Arms.

5.My father's Aunt and Uncle, Margit and Kamillo Karpathy.

Getting Back to the Roots....Part I

Even though I want to jump right in and start telling you all of the stories that I grew up hearing about my father and grandfather, about the people they met, the experiences they had, the atrocities they endured....I know that to make it all make sense I have to keep things chronological. So, I will start off with some deeper layers of my father's history, it may get boring at times, but bear with me...the history lesson will soon enough give way to what I think merits being an award winning documentary. =) Over the course of the next few blog posts I'll go over all that I've gathered from my dad in regards to his bloodlines, otherwise this one post could easily become overwhelming to read...and write!

My father tells me that one beautiful summer's day in August of 1940 the family was gathered in Pusztamonostor (another of their homes) and after lunch on the terrace his sister, Eva, asked their father to tell them about their family. My father was 11 years old and it was at that time that he got to learn about his ancestors in detail. Until then, he and his sister were just kids who were growing up in a life of privilege, but really not privy as to why. The following is some of what they learned that day.

The Makay family are the direct descendants of St. Stephen (Istvan in Hungarian), the first Christian King Of Hungary. King Istvan's mother, Sarolta, was sister to a woman named Karolin who married Duke Doboka, the ruling Prince of Transylvania at the time, and who is the farthest back to whom we can trace our bloodlines. Duke Doboka had a son, Duke Csanad, who then became King Istvan's cousin. When King Istvan was coronated in 997, my father's ancestors (the descendants of Csanad) stayed in the royal court and became members of the Royal Council.

The Makays were one of the seven biggest landowning families in all of Hungary at the time. Sadly, the Hungarian Royal House of Arpad died out in 1301 making way for foreign dynasties to move in and take over. Foreign dynasties ruled over Hungary until 1918 with the Habsburg family as the longest ruling. Due to the fact that the Makays were well known for being independently minded, pure blooded Hungarians, they were ostracized and expelled from the Royal Court and sent to live on their private estates. Sadly, things didn't stop there. Over time, the Imperial Court in Vienna started confiscating the Makay estates one by one and ordered the family to live incognito. The land and estates that were taken from the Makays were then given to Austrian families that the Imperial Court recognized as princes, counts and barons while the larger parcels of land were kept by the Habsburgs. Although the Hungarian people were unhappy with Austrian rule and several upraisings took place (in 1514,1609,1703,and 1848) all of them failed and the Habsburgs continued their reign. The Makay family had a particularly difficult time with the Austrians as they avidly participated in the upraisings as well as helped the freedom fighters. One of my father's ancestors was executed in 1711 for his activity against the Austrian Empire and after the failed War of Independence (1848-1849) my father's great-grandfather, Imre Makay, was sentenced to 10 years in an Austrian Prison. His son, Istvan (this is very much a family name as you will see throughout this history lesson), was left to govern the remaining family estate in Tiszainoka. Istvan later had two sons, Imre and Istvan (little Istvan if you may) who was to become my father's father.

It wasn't until 1868 that the Imperial Court and Emperor Franz Josef became more lenient in their governance of Hungary and allowed for a limited Hungarian government in Budapest at which time a dual monarchy with limited independence and freedom was created....this became known as the Austro-Hungarian Empire. My great-great-grandfather was unhappy with the outcome as he wanted Hungary to regain its full autonomy, but, as a private citizen there was not much he could do other than go home and finish raising his sons. Although he did all that he could to ensure that the boys had a rich education leaning towards agronomy, both Imre and Istvan decided that they wanted to join the cavalry. This disappointed their father and he tried, unsuccessfully, to change their minds. He did not want his sons to end up serving the Habsburgs and infantrymen, but the boys had plans of their own,

After four years of vigorous military training little Istvan (not so little anymore) became a lieutenant at the age of 22. Unfortunately, WWI had broken out a year earlier, and he was ordered to go to the Eastern Front to fight against Imperial Russia. Three months later, Istvan was captured by the Russians in the Ukraine and spent 5 years in Irkuts, Siberia as a prisoner of war. Upon his release and return to Hungary he and his brother, Imre, were promoted to Captain and their new assignment was at the Royal Hungarian Defense's Personnel Dept. located in the Royal Palace. Not long after, at a debutante ball, Istvan met and fell in love with an 18 year old girl named Erszebet. On August 14, 1924 they were married and on May 28th, 1925 their daughter, Eva, was born. My father graced the family with his presence four years later on April 14th, 1929....and so the story begins....

St. Stephen