100 Years in America

My new Catholic Genealogy QuickGuide™: Let me help you find those Catholic ancestors!

2013-02-13T21:36:00.000-05:00

There is much more to Catholic genealogy than just sacramental records.
The ecclesiastical paper trails left by our Catholic ancestors allow us to explore
their lives through important milestones painstakingly recorded by the church.

If you are researching Catholic roots, I'm sure you have a beginning understanding of the importance of Catholic sacramental records. Baptism and marriage records, in particular, are among the first of our ancestors' documents that we collect. They provide a wealth of information, allowing us to confirm names and family connections, link generations, and gain insight into important milestones in the lives of those who have gone before us.

In many countries, Catholic sacramental registries often served as both religious and civil records. In these cases, they may be the only evidence available to provide clues into the lives of generations passed. Yet, there is so much more to Catholic genealogical research. Church records (which take many forms beyond parish sacramental registries) and other Catholic resources offer a huge, often untapped resource.

After much research into this topic, I have created a Catholic Genealogy QuickGuide™, now available for purchase through Legacy Family Tree. I have perused all the published resources on the topic that I could find, done my own personal research using Catholic records, and put together an introduction to Catholic genealogy that I hope will provide help to both the beginning and experienced researcher.

My Catholic Genealogy QuickGuide™ contains descriptions of the history and types of Catholic records, what value they provide to the researcher, and where to find them. It offers a guide to assist you in following your ancestors' paper trails, and lists books, periodicals and online resources for help in researching Catholic roots in general and in understanding special topics related to specific ethnic groups and parts of the world. I've also provided some help in getting started with Latin language record translation.

If you have Catholic ancestors, I hope you'll allow me to share what I've learned with you. Visit Legacy Family Tree's website for more information. It is my hope that I can help you begin to understand the wealth of resources available to you in your search for Catholic roots!

It is hard to say good-bye to these dear women

2013-01-23T02:24:00.000-05:00

This month, within the span of a week's time, I lost two very special ladies: my beloved Aunt Barbara and my dear Great Aunt Molly.

Barbara

Molly

It is hard to say good-bye to these women.

They each lived many states away from me, and that has been the case for most of my years (with the exception of my early childhood and a few years about a decade ago when I had the joy to live close to one of them). Yet, they each figured largely in my life in ways that they may not have even realized.

First as a child, then as a young lady and a grown woman, I have often looked to the women in my family for inspiration and example. I have gained courage for my own life through their stories, their struggles and their vibrant personalities. They have walked ahead of me on the journey through girlhood into adulthood, but we share so much - the same larger than life ancestors who have helped to shape us; the same struggle to make sense of and to find courage for the challenges in the life of a woman.

I have often been inspired by the stories of women ancestors that I never had the chance to meet, yet these dear aunts have touched me in a special way. Both had lively personalities, a great sense of humor, and unrelenting strength of will which gave them the ability to overcome their own personal difficulties. I will remember Barbara especially for her warmth, openness and honesty. I will remember Molly for her delightfully spunky personality. I have been blessed that my life crossed paths with each of theirs, if even for short time, and that I have had the gift of their sweet and strong influences over the years.

Rest in peace, sweet ladies. You are both very dear to my heart.

(This tribute to my aunts Barbara and Molly has been cross-posted over at my blog Small-leaved Shamrock.)

Five years of life in the Lower East Side: 1908-1913

2013-01-05T23:30:00.000-05:00

It was five years ago that my interest was sparked by Jim Rasenberger's January 2008 Smithsonian Magazine article entitled "1908: The Year that Changed Everything".

As I wrote after reading:

"It was a banner year for the Wright Brothers and their flying 'aeroplane'.

It was the year that Henry Ford's Model T went into production and the year that General Motors was founded.

1908 saw the race to the North Pole, the automobile race from New York to Paris, and the race to liberate the housewife via electric irons and toasters.

It was a year of tremendous change for the world and for the nation that had seen the Louisiana Purchase and Lewis and Clark's trek across the west only a century before.

1908. One-hundred years ago today.

Where was my family?"

It was a blog post that started a wave of responses. I had asked myself and my fellow genealogy bloggers the question: Where was your family in 1908? (You can read their responses here at Snapshots of the World Back in 1908.)

Five years have flown for me.

When I read Randy Seaver's latest Saturday Night Genealogy Fun challenge to write about the whereabouts of my ancestors one-hundred years ago in January 1913, I just had to find the time to do this exercise again. After all, this blog is called 100 Years in America!

In January 1908, my great-grandparents Ferencz and Ilona Ujlaki had been an ocean apart. He had immigrated to the U.S. and was trying to establish a new life for himself in New York before his wife and young son would join him. It would be another year before Ilona and the younger Ferencz would leave their native Legrad and make the ocean voyage from the port of Rijeka to New York City.

Fast forward five years to 1913. Much had changed for this little family. After arriving in March 1909, Ilona and her little one had been welcomed by Ferencz and settled into a tenement home in the Lower East Side of New York City. By January 1913, they probably already lived at 329 E. 16th Street, having moved a handful of blocks north from their home at 415 E. 5th Street.

You can read more about the neighborhood they lived in and the churches they attended at Disappearing Churches, Part 1: Manhattan's Immaculate Conception and Disappearing Churches, Part 2: Manhattan's St. Stephen of Hungary. Visit "To face whatever lies before us...": New York City disasters and the prayers of young mothers for a look at a tragic event that occurred in their neighborhood in 1911.

This map shows where the Ujlaky family resided at the time of the 1910 U.S. census (A) and the 1915 New York state census (B). They would remain living on E. 16th St. (although they moved to 431) until 1921.

The 1910 U.S. census shows the Ujlaky (misspelled Ujlakei) family of three living at 415 E. 5th Street. They are already using their Americanized first names. Young Frank is listed as four years old. Frank senior works as a "wheelright" in a "wagon house".

Ujlaky family at 415 E. 5th St., Manhattan in the 1910 U.S. census
(click to enlarge)

By December of 1913 the family had added three sisters and had moved north to 329 E. 16th Street, as shown in the 1915 New York state census below. Frank works as a "carriage maker".

Ujlaky family at 329 E. 16th St., Manhattan in the 1915 New York state census
(click to enlarge)

The closest photograph to January 1913 that I have of my great-grandparents is probably this wedding portrait. The bride Maria Gaspar is the cousin of my great-grandmother Ilona (now called Helen). Maria's wedding to Peter Gres must have been a beautiful celebration. My great-grandparents are seated and their two oldest children, Helene and Frankie, are standing at their sides. Someone else must have been holding baby Mitzi because she would definitely be born at the time of this wedding, but she does not appear in the portrait. My great-grandmother is either expecting or soon-to-be expecting her fourth child and third daughter Wilma.

Wedding of Peter and Maria (Gaspar) Gres, 1913

My new Croatian Genealogy QuickGuide™: Journey with me back to your roots in Croatia

2012-12-26T19:40:00.001-05:00

My family's Croatian roots were originally hidden.
After research I discovered that my grandmother's
"Hungarian" family had actually originated in northern Croatia.

This fall I visited Croatia, but not in the sense that you might imagine. Though I do hope to actually set foot in the country of my ancestors again sometime in the next few years, this "trip" to Croatia was a virtual tour of the country, its history, its geography, and most of all its genealogical treasures.

Croatian genealogy can be a challenging area, yet those who are up to the task can be rewarded with great discoveries.

I am privileged to be able to delve into the heritage of my great-grandparents' who hailed from near the Hungarian border in the northernmost region of Croatia. The country is diverse, and so are the stories of the peoples who have lived within its borders. The historical influence of many different nations, peoples and cultures and the variety of languages found within Croatian records can test the skills of even an experienced genealogist.

My Croatian Genealogy QuickGuide™
is a resource for both experienced researchers
and those new to tracing their Croatian roots

In partnership with Legacy Family Tree, I am pleased to present to you a brand new aid for your quest for Croatian roots: my Croatian Genealogy QuickGuide™, a downloadable resource that includes -

An overview of the history and geography of Croatia
Details about the types and whereabouts of available records
A description of the various types of archives and repositories that house Croatian records
An explanation of the numerous languages in which Croatian records were written
A glossary of common terms in several of those languages
Links to many types of online resources (genealogy guides, translation tools, maps, forums, blogs and more)
A list of genealogy-related publications in both English and Croatian
A research strategy to follow for success in tracing your Croatian roots

One of the kind editors who took the time to preview this little guide for me wrote a note on the sidebar during the editing process: "You're practically handing them their family trees!" Well, not quite, but it is my hope that this resource will act as a compass when you're feeling lost in the world of Croatian genealogy.

If nothing else, I hope it will inspire you to take up the project again (or for the first time). Working on this project has definitely done that for me. I am proud to be the descendant of my Croatian-American great-grandparents and am greatly looking forward to digging more deeply into my Croatian roots. I hope you will join me.

The patron saint of my Hungarian family tree: St. Elisabeth of Hungary

2012-11-17T06:47:00.000-05:00

A holy card printed in 1907 for the 700th anniversary
of the birth of St. Elisabeth of Hungary.

(Thanks to my daughter who gave me this treasure after finding
it in a village flea market during her recent trip to Italy.)

St. Elisabeth of Hungary (Szent Erzsébet in Hungarian; Heilige Elisabeth in German) lived a short life (only to the age of 24), but she made such an impact that she was canonized by the Catholic Church only four years after her death. She was born over 800 years ago, but we know much about her family tree back to her great-great-grandparents' generation, and her incredible personal legacy of faith continues to this day. Today, November 17, is her feast day.

Born in the year 1207, at a very young age Elisabeth, daughter of King András II of Hungary, was betrothed to Ludwig IV of Thuringia and taken to live within the Thuringian court. The two became close childhood friends and enjoyed a short and happy marriage until Ludwig died of the plague, leaving Elisabeth a widow at the age of twenty with several young children.

A statue of St. Elisabeth holding roses in
Rózsák tere (Roses Square), Budapest, Hungary

Stories of her generosity to the poor and the miracles that accompanied her work are plentiful. She is best known for the legendary "miracle of the roses". According to Holy Rulers and Blessed Princesses: Dynastic Cults in Medieval Central Europe by Gábor Klaniczay (published in English in 2002), the story "in which a disapproving father attempts to expose Elisabeth, who is secretly stealing alms for the poor in her apron, and finds her pious lie turn the contents of her apron into roses" first appears in written form at the end of the 13th century. Elisabeth is commonly depicted holding these miraculous roses. This is the reason (along with the fact that she was a princess) that many little girls (including my own) have chosen to dress as St. Elisabeth of Hungary on All Saints Day!

I was thrilled to see that much detail is known about Elisabeth's royal family tree. Here's hoping that someday I can find a family connection to her ancestral line.

Wikipedia has links to a number of articles about many of Elizabeth's
ancestors, including her grandfather King Béla III, one of the richest
and most powerful monarchs in European history.

Elisabeth's Hungarian heritage and the fact that my name derives from Elisabeth endear her to me, yet there is another reason that I've chosen her as patron saint of my continued efforts to uncover the roots of my Hungarian family tree. Like my great-grandmother Helen Ulaky, St. Elisabeth was a lay Franciscan associated with the Third Order of St. Francis of Assisi. In fact, just before his death in 1226 St. Francis, aware of her assistance to the poor thanks to Franciscan friars in Thuringia, sent a personal message of blessing to St. Elisabeth.

The Third Order of St. Francis had its start in 1221. Elisabeth's death in 1231 made her the first Third Order Franciscan to be canonized a saint. On her canonization she was declared the patron saint of the Third Order of St. Francis, a role she shares with St. Louis IX of France.

The beautiful holy card pictured at the beginning of this article was printed in 1907 in celebration of Elisabeth's 700th birthday. The year 2007 (the 800th anniversary of her birth) also saw a renewed focus on the history of and devotion to St. Elisabeth of Hungary with celebrations throughout Hungary, Germany, Austria and also worldwide through the Third Order of St. Francis. The town of Marburg, Germany was a special focus of the year since it was the place of Elisabeth's death and its Elisabethkirche was the location of her shrine and relics until 1539. The church was a place of pilgrimage for many Europeans during the medieval period. Today her relics are located in various churches throughout Austria, Germany and France.

One side of the German 10 Euro coin minted in
celebration of the 800th birthday of St. Elisabeth

Disappearing Churches, Part 2: Manhattan's St. Stephen of Hungary

2012-10-06T15:28:00.000-04:00

The entrance doors to the present-day
Church of St. Stephen of Hungary
(Photo by brooklynbred)

This is the second in a series of Disappearing Churches here at "100 Years in America". These articles have been written as part of the special Doors of Faith celebration in honor of the upcoming Year of Faith 2012-2013 proclaimed by Pope Benedict XVI. For more information, visit The Catholic Gene.

It was the year 1909 when the family of three consisting of my great-grandparents and their young son (little Ferencz) were reunited at Ellis Island. It had been three years since Ilona’s husband Ferencz had left their home in the Croatian-speaking region of Austria-Hungary's Zala County. They had finally joined him in the United States, jumping right into their new life as residents of New York’s Lower East Side.

As it still is today, the neighborhood was a magnet for new immigrants, each nationality forming its own community within a particular section of city blocks. New immigrants like the Ujlaki family surely found comfort for their homesickness within the neighborhood where the languages, traditions and foods of their homeland were a part of everyday life.

The first St. Stephen of Hungary
Church on E. 14th Street

A central part of life for the Hungarian immigrant families was the Church of St. Stephen of Hungary. It was located at 420 East 14th Street, at the northern boundary of a series of city blocks that were predominantly a Hungarian neighborhood. The church was founded in 1902 by the St. Stephen Roman Catholic Society. It's first church building, formerly used by Episcopal and Presbyterian churches before the area became largely Catholic, was consecrated in 1905 by pastor Rev. Ladislaus Perenyi.

Lucky for Ferencz and Ilona Ujlaki, the Hungarian priest who became pastor in 1907 was from Nagykanizsa – a town that is today about an hour's drive from their home villages. Their families had made visits to his town. It must have been nice to have this connection with their pastor Rev. Louis Von Kovacs de Jardanhaza now that they were all in America and so far away from their homeland.

The Hungarian pastor had quite a distinguished history before his arrival at Manhattan's Church of St. Stephen of Hungary. According to a 1914 publication entitled The Catholic Church in the United States of America, Undertaken to Celebrate the Golden Jubilee of His Holiness, Pope Pius X. v. 1-3, Fr. Kovacs de Jardanhaza was "born in Nagykanizsa, Hungary in 1878 from an old noble family and graduated from the University of Hungary in 1899. He was in the Cathedral of Tamesvar, Hungary, with Bishop Dessiwffy for four years, and was then professor in Nagybeeskerek, Hungary. In 1904 he was a candidate for the Hungarian Parliament. He came to the United States in 1905 and until 1907 was rector of the Hungarians of Perth Amboy, N.J. He was decorated with the Cross of the German Knights by Prince Eugene of Hapsburg in 1907.” With a history like that I hope he didn't seem intimidating to his parishioners!

The Ujlaky family about 1915

By 1914, St. Stephen of Hungary had about 4,000 Hungarian Catholic parishioners, including my great-grandparents. By that year, the Ujlaki family had baptized three daughters at the church, and would continue to be active members for many years, even after the family and the church itself moved - in different directions.

As Hungarian immigrant families settled into their new lives in America and began to live more comfortably financially, they left the Lower East Side, and the church followed them. The Church of St. Stephen of Hungary moved uptown to the upper east side of Manhattan in Yorkville. The area from 75th Street to 83rd Street was becoming the center of Hungarian life and was the natural choice for the location of the new church.

By 1926, plans were underway for the building of a new Romanesque Revival church at 408 East 82nd Street. Construction began on St. Stephen's day: August 20, 1927. Today, the church remains at that address, and includes a rectory, school and community center. Designed by architect Emil Szendy, it is built of light brick and sandstone with an archway at the center for the entrance to the church. Below are photos of the church today, which still offers a weekly Hungarian language Mass. I love the striking stained glass window behind the altar depicting King Szent István (Hungarian for St. Stephen) kneeling at the feet of Mary and the infant Jesus.

The current St. Stephen of Hungary on 82nd Street was built in 1927
(The beautiful photographs of the interior are by Andrew
of the Catholic Churches of Manhattan blog)

A few short years before the church itself moved, Ferencz and Ilona Ujlaki (now using their Americanized names Frank and Helen Ujlaky) had moved their family not north, but south. Probably in search of more rural surroundings like the villages in which they had been raised, they moved their family to Staten Island in 1921. Because it was closer to home, Holy Rosary became their new parish, yet they remained connected to the Church of St. Stephen of Hungary. Their teenage children attended youth activities with other young Catholics from Hungarian families at St. Stephen's.

One of the Ujlakys' daughters was a teenager when she met and was courted by a Hungarian-born young man from Massachusetts who was attending St. Stephen's while visiting his New York cousins. The Church of St. Stephen of Hungary had introduced the young couple, but Steve and Mitzi were married the following summer at Holy Rosary. He was 25 and she was 18. They were my grandparents.

This article is part of the "Doors of Faith" series focusing on our ancestors' Catholic parishes. Visit The Catholic Gene to learn how you can share photos and stories of your family's "Doors of Faith" in honor of the upcoming Year of Faith 2012-2013.

Disappearing Churches, Part 1: Manhattan's Immaculate Conception

2012-09-30T00:00:00.000-04:00

Several photographs clued me in to the fact that my grandmother and her siblings had attended Immaculate Conception Catholic School in Manhattan's Lower East Side during the first two decades of the twentieth century. The family worshipped at St. Stephen of Hungary parish, but since that church had no school the children joined several thousand other students from immigrant families and attended school at what was then one of the busiest Catholic churches in New York City: Immaculate Conception.

The first Immaculate
Conception at
505 East 14th Street

It took me a bit of sleuthing to learn the full history of Immaculate Conception and to unravel the mystery of the disappearance of its original church building.

As the story goes, New York's Archbishop John Hughes was standing a few feet away from Pope Pius IX in Rome when the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception was first promulgated on December 8, 1854. "Just at that moment," Hughes later recalled, "I resolved, on my return to New York, to erect a church to commemorate the event." The cornerstone for Immaculate Conception Catholic Church was laid on December 8, 1855: exactly one year after Archbishop Hughes' had decided to build the parish. The beautiful Romanesque building was finally dedicated on May 16, 1858 by the archbishop, who declared it to be "the first church on earth set apart to honor the immaculate nature of the Mother of Christ."

The first Immaculate Conception Catholic Church as it looked in 1914

Several of the Ujlaky children, including oldest brother Frankie circled in the pictures below, attended Immaculate Conception Catholic School during the second decade of the twentieth century along with about 3,000 other children, mostly from immigrant families. At that time the Sisters of Charity taught the girls; and the Christian Brothers, including Brother Aloysius pictured below with Frankie's class, taught the boys.

Brother Aloysius' class at Immaculate Conception Catholic School, abt. 1917-1919

The first Immaculate Conception church building, its rectory, convent and school buildings were destroyed in the 1940s along with two other churches and many other buildings within the city blocks of 14th and 23rd streets from First Avenue to Avenue C. The reason: the building of Stuyvesant Town, the post-World War II urban housing development which remains today.

This map shows the sites of the original and current
Immaculate Conception Catholic Church (click to enlarge)

Immaculate Conception Catholic Church (and school) found a new home in the former Episcopal mission settlement called Grace Chapel, which was located on the south side of 14th Street, east of First Avenue at the address 406 East 14th Street. This church, just outside of the planned area for Stuyvesant Town, had lost its purpose as the neighborhood had largely become Catholic. It closed in 1942 and was left vacant until the church and its affiliated buildings were purchased by the Archdiocese of New York and renamed Immaculate Conception. This remains the home of the Immaculate Conception church and school today: over 150 years after the founding of its original church home.

The church website states:

"In many ways, New York City is America’s front door, even though
most of the newest residents come not only from Europe but from all over the world. This is the city’s gift to the parish: a remarkably multi-ethnic, multi-cultural population, whose hearts burn with the same ambition: to create a better life for themselves, their children and their descendants.

"Above the church door, there is a small but exquisite statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary from the first Immaculate Conception Church. The expression on her face is neither joyful nor sad; it is pensive. What could she be thinking? Is she calling all those men, women and children who have passed beneath her feet?"

Immaculate Conception Catholic Church today
(Notice the small statue of Mary from the original
church building above the church doors)

For more information about the history of Immaculate Conception Catholic Church, visit the church's website or refer to From Abyssinian to Zion: A Guide to Manhattan's Houses of Worship by David Dunlap.

This article is part of the "Doors of Faith" series on our ancestors' Catholic parishes. Visit The Catholic Gene to learn how you can share photos and stories of your family's "Doors of Faith" in honor of the upcoming Year of Faith 2012-2013.

The search for family history: Savoring the journey

2012-09-29T09:50:00.000-04:00

Jacqui Stevens over at A Family Tapestry wrote an insightful post this past week entitled A Blog Needs a Voice that touched on "the slow journey of stopping along the way to absorb the aromas of life each of [our family's previous] generations must have experienced".

That describes perfectly my approach to this lifelong project I call family history. When I stop and think about the few generations for which I have uncovered names and dates, I am sometimes tempted to have a fleeting moment of discouragement, since I have been tracing my family tree for so very many years! Yet, the great blessing I receive from this "slow journey" is the glimpse into the experiences of those who have lived before me; it is the reward of learning their stories, how they fit into the greater history of their times, and how their lives have helped to shape who I am today. That is what I seek to share within each of my family history blogs.

I'm sure that I will never "finish" my family tree. It is a work in progress that I hope someday will be continued by the younger generations in my family. Yet, uncovering a little bit about the lives of those before me who have been forgotten is more fulfilling to me than just blazing through my genealogy research to fill out the complete list of names and dates that make up my direct ancestry.

I love the way Jacqui explained this rewarding aspect of the search for family roots: "While we may never have met these people in real life, the events that shaped their lives ultimately touched our own in some way—be it ever so small. That’s the part of our roots that I focus on when I ferret out the message behind the data and documents. Perhaps it’s that relay race of influence passed down from generation to generation that fascinates me..."

I've entitled the blog about my Boston Irish-famine-immigrant ancestors "A Light That Shines Again" after a stanza of a poem that summed up my purpose in writing: to resurrect my forgotten ancestors' humble lives from the "death of memory" so that they might "shine again".

Here is the stanza:

"Yet not in vain,
Fathers and mothers, were your humble lives;
Each in its turn an influence that survives,
A light that shines again
In sacred memories, and in hearths and homes,
Vital as greater names that gild historic tomes…”

~ Christopher Pearce Cranch

I like to think of my family history blogs as a type of "illuminated manuscript", but not the illustrated kind, like the famous Book of Kells. My blogs are more than just a list of dates and names; they are a collection of stories that I hope will illuminate the lives of those who have come before me so that their memories will live on and that others will gain strength from the inspiration of their lives.

Thank you to Jacqui Stevens for highlighting my writing at 100 Years in America and at The Catholic Gene within her "tour" of blogs "with a voice". Visit her article for some good reading suggestions and also take some time to page through more of this prolific blogger's work. You will be enriched.

What a surprise! Great-Great-Great-Grandfather's "Doors of Faith"

2012-09-25T08:49:00.002-04:00

About a month ago I was happy to find the name of my 3rd great-grandfather in a history book about my ancestral village of Legrad, Croatia. The discovery that he had held the post of mayor during the middle of the 19th century confirmed a family story and gave me hope that I might eventually reveal more clues about my ancestor, who was supposedly a Jewish orphan raised by Catholic religious sisters.

Two weeks later, I planned and announced a special "Doors of Faith" blog carnival over at The Catholic Gene. Its purpose: to highlight articles by bloggers that tell stories and share photos of Catholic churches in which their ancestors worshipped. The round-up of all those articles will be published on the opening day of the new Year of Faith 2012-2013 declared by Pope Benedict XVI.

Only two days after I posted that announcement, I received an amazing bit of news about the very doors of my own ancestors' Catholic church in Legrad, Croatia. Here's the story.

The Holy Trinity Catholic Church (Župa Presvetog Trojstva) is a beautiful late-Baroque one-nave parish church serving the village of Legrad. It was built around 1780, and by the middle of the 19th century the church needed renovation. That project was taken on in the year 1857. In addition to the renovation, a few other improvements were made.

Guess who provided for them? My 3rd great-grandfather, Josip Bence.

What were those improvements? The inside of the church was repaired, painted and tiled; two more bells were purchased for the church bell tower; and one more item was upgraded - you won't believe this: new entrance doors for the church.

I have loved this beautiful little church for many years, ever since I was given a picture postcard of it that was formerly in my great-grandmother's possession. Now I've learned that her grandfather was instrumental in preserving and updating the church. Talk about a family heirloom!

I haven't yet had the opportunity to visit Legrad, but you can be sure that once I make it to the village one of my very first stops will be to the Holy Trinity Catholic Church (Župa Presvetog Trojstva) to visit the place where my ancestors worshipped for so many decades and to admire its beautiful interior, its bells, and of course, the church doors.

A very special thank-you to Mike, a current resident of Legrad, for sharing this bit of history with me and for providing these photographs of the church. The news about Josip Bence's contribution to the church was taken from Josip Đurkan's Legrad i Njegova Župa Kroz Stoljeća (Legrad and its Parish Through the Centuries), published in 2005. Here is the English translation along with the original text:

"In 1857, the tower of the parish church was renovated through gifts from the Legrad municipality and the Varaždin general command for the sum of 2,000 forints. That same year, a new entrance door to the church was made, by care of Legrad Captain Joseph Bence. Then two more bells were purchased and placed in the tower. One weighing 230, and another 170 kg. The church inside was painted, tiled, also cared for by gifts of the captain."

"1857. godine toranj župne crkve obnovljen je darovima legradske općine i varaždinskog generalata za svotu od 2.000 forinti. Iste godine načinjena su nova ulazna vrata u crkvu, brigom legradskog kapetana Josipa Benceja. Potom su nabavljena još dva zvona i smještena u toranj. Jedno od 230, a drugo od 170 kg. Crkva je iznutra okrečena, popločena, također brigom i darovima kapetana."

Legrad's Holy Spirit Catholic Church (Župa Presvetog Trojstva) is once again undergoing renovation as funds become available. An upcoming article here at 100 Years in America will highlight the details of the current restoration project. In the mean time, you may view some of the conservation work done on the St. Joseph altar by the Department of Conservation at Zagreb University. Visit their Facebook page (Odsjek za restauriranje i konzerviranje umjetnina ALU Sveučilište u Zagrebu) or go directly to their photos of the restoration and assembly of the altar. If you'd like to make a donation to go toward the restoration, please contact the church: Župa Presvetog Trojstva.

More articles (including photos) here at 100 Years in America about Legrad's beautiful little Catholic church:

My Lady of Sorrows: When Family History Meets the Catholic Liturgical Calendar

2012-09-15T23:25:00.000-04:00

Helen Ulaky was born Ilona Bence.
She lived to the age of 97.

You don't have to spend too much time reading 100 Years in America to come to the realization that I admire my great-grandmother Helen Ulaky. I write a lot about her life.

I only had the opportunity to spend a little bit of time with her during the years our lives intersected. She was already in her eighties by the time I was born, and my family and I didn't have too many opportunities to visit with her during those years prior to her death at age 97. Yet she had a strong presence in my life: partly because of a special memory I have of one of my visits with her, and partly because of a photograph.

Grammy Ulaky was a praying woman, and I remember vividly one visit I made as a child to her home. She called me over to her and gave me a Miraculous Medal (a Catholic medal meant to be worn as a necklace as a statement of faith). That moment stuck in my memory for many years. I felt like I had been given a birthright. She had shared with me a special item; but even more importantly, she had entrusted me with her most precious treasure: her Catholic faith.

I didn't see her too many times after that visit, but her photograph was a regular presence in my life. I was blessed to share many visits with one of her daughters: my dear grandmother. Gramma also had a strong Catholic faith, and like many Catholics, she kept a crucifix on the wall and a vigil candle on the dresser in her bedroom. In its permanent home beside the candle was the photograph of her mother: my great-grandmother, Grammy Ulaky.

Over the years I've tried to learn about the life of this dear woman whom I knew only as a sweet old gray-haired grandmother with a thick accent. I've been fascinated and humbled by what I've discovered. So many of the important events of the early 20th century impacted her life directly. To tell my children the story of her life is to give them lessons in some of the most historic events in modern American history.

Her life (which spanned almost a century) was filled with the joys of a close and loving family, yet she faced many times of sadness throughout her days.

Here is a brief and incomplete timeline of just several decades of her life:

Ilona (Bence) Ujlaki at age 22
with her firstborn son before
their emigration (and her
Americanized name)

1909 She and her young son left their home and family in their native Hungary to meet her husband in America. She would never see her family or her homeland again. After arriving in New York City her son, just age two, was separated from her and quarantined within the Ellis Island hospital.

1911 As a young mother of two with a baby on the way, she stayed at home with her children living tenement life in New York City's Lower East Side while her husband worked each day. Their home was just six blocks from the historic Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire.

1921 Like many immigrant families who were establishing themselves in their new country, she and her husband Frank and their five children left Manhattan's immigrant neighborhood and moved out to Staten Island once they had the means to do so. Her husband enlisted the help of friends to build their home.

1925 Her son Frankie, the eldest of her (now six) children, was hospitalized for Encephalitis Lethargica after an outbreak of this "sleepy sickness" took hold in New York City. He remained hospitalized for the rest of his life.

Helen with her grown daughters and two
young granddaughters about 1936
in front of the home her husband built

1934 She was the proud grandmother of three grandchildren, but was saddened by the sudden loss of her grandson Stephen who died from meningitis at the age of 15 months.

1939 After battling tuberculosis for five years under the care of doctors at historic Seaview Hospital, her husband Frank passed away at the age of 60 . After his death she lost the home that he had built and she and her youngest children moved to a "railroad apartment" in another area of Staten Island.

1942 While still hospitalized at Harlem Valley State Hospital after contracting Encephalitis Lethargica years earlier, her eldest son Frankie died from tuberculosis at age 35.

Helen Ulaky in 1947

1943 Almost a year to the day that her son passed away, her daughter Ethel died from tuberculosis at the age of 23.

1943 Her youngest child (and only remaining son) Kasmir was drafted as an Air Force aviator cadet to serve the United States during World War II. He earned his pilot wings at age 21. There's much more to his story, but that will have to wait until another time...

Several months ago as I was looking through my family tree database, I noticed the death date of my great-grandmother. I had never made the connection before, but at that moment I realized that her death had occurred on a very special feast day within the Catholic liturgical calendar.

I can't help but believe that God intentionally chose this day to take my great-grandmother home to Heaven. This daughter of His, who had suffered so much sadness during her life, passed away on September 15, the memorial of Our Lady of Sorrows. Requiescat in pace, Grammy. After all the sorrows in your long life, you must have been grateful to rest in God's eternal peace.

Doors of Faith: Catholic church "show and tell" at The Catholic Gene

2012-09-12T15:00:00.000-04:00

Places of worship have played important roles within many of our lives and the lives of our ancestors. Pope Benedict XVI has declared a special Annus Fidei: the Year of Faith 2012-2013 beginning on October 11, 2012 (the 50th anniversary of the opening of the Second Vatican Council) and ending on the Solemnity of Christ the King: November 24, 2013.

In honor of the beginning of this Year of Faith, The Catholic Gene is hosting a blog celebration entitled "Doors of Faith" that will highlight the photos and stories of Catholic churches that have helped to spark the light of faith in the lives of our ancestors over the centuries.

If you have Catholic ancestors and would like to share photos and/or stories about a Catholic church (or churches) that played a special role in your family members' faith lives, please visit The Catholic Gene for details about how you can participate. The deadline for submissions is Friday, October 5, 2012. Please join us and also help spread the word!

"To face whatever lies before us...": New York City disasters and the prayers of young mothers

2012-09-11T00:00:00.000-04:00

I was one of the many who witnessed the crashing of the plane into the
World Trade Center's South Tower on the morning of September 11, 2001
after turning on the television to see reports of the first crash

I was several months away from the birth of my third child - a precious daughter - on the morning of September 11, 2001. Taking a few quiet minutes before my sleeping children woke up, I was doing some inspirational reading with a book called In Conversation with God. The day's meditation read:

"It is in prayer that we learn the mystery of Christ and the wisdom of the Cross. In prayer we perceive, in all their dimensions, the real needs of our brothers and sisters throughout the world; in prayer we find the strength to face whatever lies before us..." - from a homily by Pope John Paul II, Jan. 13, 1981

The peace of my quiet morning did not last long. Soon I learned the true wisdom of those words and found out the reality of that day's trials.

"...whatever lies before us"...

I learned the "real needs of [my] brothers and sisters throughout the world" with shocking clarity when I got a call from my Mom.

"Turn on the T.V.," she said. "A plane has crashed into the World Trade Center."

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire
occurred in the Asch Building
(now the Brown Building)
at 23-29 Washington Place, NYC

It was only last week as I was thinking about another event in New York City's history that I made an interesting connection.

Ninety years before the World Trade Center disaster - on March 25, 1911 - another expectant mother must have been shocked to learn of a horrible tragedy that had just occurred. The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire took the lives of 146 garment workers - most of them young immigrant women ages 16 to 23. It would rank as the second deadliest disaster in New York City's history (behind the burning of a passenger steamship in 1904) - that is, until the destruction of the World Trade Center eclipsed them both ninety years later.

Like the World Trade Center tragedy, the Triangle Shirtwaist fire was a catalyst that brought enormous change. In this case, the movement for worker safety and social justice was finally brought to the forefront in New York and throughout the country.

A quick bit of research led me to a startling realization: at the time of the disaster, this young mother and her family had lived only six short blocks away from the Triangle Shirtwaist factory.

The woman? My great-grandmother, Ilona Ujlaky. A new immigrant to America who had arrived only two years earlier. Knowing her, she had said many prayers since she had arrived in the crazy and wonderful world of New York City. More than likely she prayed for these victims and their families, and the struggles of the city in which she and her husband were beginning their new life.

The child she was expecting? Her third. A baby girl. My grandmother.

In 1911 my great-grandmother and her family (she is pictured here c.1913)
lived at 415 East Fifth Street on the Lower East Side,
only about six blocks from the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire.

Found! A small clue to my family's Jewish connection

2012-08-28T18:17:00.000-04:00

For many years I've been intrigued by a story in my family of a brother and sister, young Jewish orphans, who were taken in and raised by Catholic religious sisters. From his tenuous beginnings, the little boy went on to become the mayor of the town in which he lived. This young man was possibly the grandfather of Ilona Bence, my great-grandmother.

This story has always fascinated me. The possibility of having some Jewish ancestry is very intriguing. All of the many branches of my family tree that I have researched thus far have consisted of practicing Catholics like myself.

The Catholic cemetery in Legrad, Croatia where many of my ancestors are buried

I hoped that the fact that he had played an important role within his town might make this ancestor easier to find, and that some day I might find some clues to his Jewish origins.

Fast forward to last night. I had requested an inter-library loan of an elusive history book about the little town of Legrad, Croatia (hometown of my great-grandmother's family, from whom the above family story originated). Written in 1971 by Dragutin Feletar, this book is written entirely in Croatian and it is not easy to find a copy in North America. One library kindly offered to loan their copy to me through my library for a small fee. I gladly paid it and picked up the book several weeks ago, but hadn't had time to do much besides flip through the pages.

Knowing its due date was looming, I finally sat down with the book last night. I don't speak or read Croatian, and here I was with a treasure of a book (with no subject index) and no good way to make sense out of it's almost 200 pages besides good old Google Translate - so there I went.

I decided for no good reason to start by translating a few photograph captions, starting with one in the center of the book. I wrote down the translation and the page number, and turned the page to the next photo.

As I did, something caught my eye on page 134. Listed within the text above the photo was a familiar surname: Bence (my great-grandmother's maiden name) and the date 1858. Bence is not a common name, even within this little village, so I knew immediately that this was good news. What was the meaning of this list of names and dates? I turned back to the previous page and translated the beginning of the paragraph:

"Na kraju šetnje kroz prebogatu legradsku povijest valja još navesti (barem približno, koliko to dopušta postojeća I pristupačna povijesna dokumentacija I literatura) I popis predsjednika (kapetana, povjerenika, načelnika) općine Legrad od 1545, do danas. Najprije evo popisa legradskih predsjednika (kapetana) od 1545. do 1912. godine: ...Bence (1858), Boldizar Gacic (1861)…"

This was a list of the mayors of the village of Legrad beginning in the year 1545. Here was my long-hoped-for Jewish-orphan-turned-mayor!

Though all others were listed by both first and last name, he was listed only by surname. Unfortunately, the book has no further details about his role in that position or proof of his early beginnings (that kind of find would be too good to be true!). Yet, finding confirmation that my Bence ancestor actually held the mayoral post is a great success, particularly when I'm researching in a foreign language and living such a distance from his home village.

I've got lots more work to do to further investigate my family's possible Jewish heritage, but I was thrilled to find this little piece of information validating a portion of what was previously an unproven family legend.

Stjepan and his wife Magdalena (Bedenica) Bence. Stjepan's father
(or possibly his grandfather) may be the young Jewish orphan who later
became mayor of the town of Legrad during the years 1858-1861.
Stjepan was born in 1857 and would have been one-year-old at the time.

This story has been submitted to the 121st edition of the Carnival of Genealogy. The topic is "Great Discoveries". Visit Jasia's Creative Gene for the carnival.

J and K are for... Just Kidding!

2012-08-22T19:30:00.000-04:00

Well, I started off a few weeks late on the Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge. My plan was to work at a faster pace than the folks who were posting a letter a week. I'd catch up in a matter of weeks and then work through the rest of the alphabet along with them.

I was off to a great start, until... Life got in the way!

So, here I am, still at letter I (well, K if you count this one!). The rest of the group is at letter O. I'm not sure at this point if I have a chance to catch up with the group, but I have some great ideas for themed posts to go with the letters L through Z, so I'll keep trudging forward. Now that the fall semester has arrived, it may take me awhile to get to Z, but here goes!

(I know, I know... this post is actually cheating a little - since I didn't tie in any family history related subjects to these letters - but I make the rules over here at 100 Years in America, don't I?!!) :)

Read on for some more fascinating posts featuring the history of my family's one-hundred years in America, beginning with the letter L!

I is for Ilona's Immigration: America at last!

2012-08-04T07:48:00.001-04:00

It was on March 2, 1909 that my great-grandmother Ilona (Bence) Ujlaki completed her trying journey aboard the S.S. Carmania and stepped onto Ellis Island with her toddler son, Ferencz. The seventeen-day journey from the port of Fiume, Hungary (now Rijeka, Croatia) was surely a trial as she cared for her son, who became ill during the voyage. Upon arrival they were both admitted to Ellis Island's hospital before finally being released to reunite with Ilona's husband, Ferencz, who had not yet seen his first-born child.

The S.S. Carmania ship manifest for this voyage lists the following information about passenger Ferenczne Ujlaki (that's Ilona listed as "wife of Ferencz Ujlaki"):

She was twenty-four years old
$10 was all she had to her name
Her ethnicity is listed as Hungarian/German
Her father Stjepan Bence is listed as the nearest friend or relative from her home village of Legrad, Hungary

Just what did Ilona experience on her journey to America?

It is not too difficult to gain a picture of what her trip may have been like. The New York Times published an article on December 14, 1909 called Women in Steerage Grossly Ill Used reporting on conditions observed by special agents of the U.S. Immigration Commission. They had traveled as steerage passengers on various steamships for investigative purposes. Their experiences as travelers on these transatlantic voyages were presented to the U.S. Senate along with recommendations for new legislation to improve conditions on the ships.

The article distinguishes between the "old" and "new" types of steerage. Of the old, the members of the commission maintained in the introduction to their report that:

"The universal human needs of space, air, food, sleep, and privacy are recognized to the degree now made compulsory by law. Beyond that the persons carried are looked upon as so much freight, with mere transportation as their only due."

The article continues:

"The sleeping quarters are described as being in many cases dirty, inadequate, and all that is bad. The average berth is six feet long and two feet wide, with only two and one-half feet of space above it, and that is all the space to which the passenger can assert a definite right. In that space he has to sleep and find room also for his baggage, all of his extra clothing, his eating utensils, his towels and other toilet necessaries. The passageways between the berths are so narrow that none of the articles mentioned could be deposited there."

The S.S. Carmania on which Ilona traveled more than likely fit into the category of new steamships since it was built in 1905, so Ilona's trip may have been a bit better than some travelers of her time. However, with a capacity for about 1,000 steerage passengers on board, it was surely no pleasant ocean cruise.

The 1909 New York Times article about women in steerage continues, in the words of one agent of the Immigration Commission:

"No woman with the smallest degree of modesty, and with no other conveniences than a washroom, used jointly with men, and faucet of cold salt water, can keep clean amid such surroundings for a period of twelve days and more. It was forbidden to bring water for washing purposes into the sleeping compartments nor was there anything in which to bring it. On different occasions some of the women rose early, brought drinking water in their soup palls for washing, but were driven out when detected by a steward. No soap and no towels were supplied."

You can read more of the article at the New York Times online archive here or read its transcription on the Gjenvick-Gjønvik Archives website.

The Gjenvick-Gjønvik Archives website provides additional insight into the experiences of steerage passengers traveling during the first decade of the 20th-century. See the page Steerage - The Immigrant's Journey for links to various articles that describe the experiences of third class immigrants on their steamship voyages, including Urgency of Improved Conditions (1906) and The Immigrant Journey: Fellowship of the Steerage (1905).

From the latter article comes the following look at The Day of Arrival, in the poetic words of one who had made the trip at least ten times himself by 1905:

"The [ship] is awake after its restless night and mutely awaits the disclosures of its own and the new world's secrets. The sound of a booming gun is carried across the hidden space, and faint touches of flame struggling through the gray, are the sun's answer to the salute from Governor's Island.

"The morning breeze, like a 'Dancing Psaltress', moves gently over the glassy surface of the water, lifts the fog higher and higher, tearing it into a thousand fleecy shreds, and the far things have come near and the hidden things have been revealed. The sky line straight ahead, assaulted by a thousand towering shafts, looking like a challenge to the strong, and a warning to the weak, makes all of us tremble from an unknown fear.

"The [ship] is still mute; it looks to the left at the populous shore, to the right at the green stretches of Long Island, and again straight ahead at the mighty city. Slowly the ship glides into the harbour, and when it passes under the shadow of the Statue of Liberty, the silence is broken, and a thousand hands are outstretched in greeting to this new divinity into whose keeping they now entrust themselves.

"Some day a great poet will arise among us, who, catching the inspiration of that moment will be able to put into words these surging emotions; who will be great enough to feel beating against his own soul and give utterance to, the thousand varying notes which are felt and never sounded."

As the writer states, the glory of the moment of arrival was often short-lived.

"Cabin and passengers alike, soon find the poetry of the moment disturbed; for the quarantine and custom-house officials are on board, driving away the tourist's memories of the splendour of European capitals by their inquisitiveness as to his purchases. They make him solemnly swear that he is not a smuggler, and upon landing, immediately proceed to prove that he is one.

"The passengers have before them more rigid examinations which may have vast consequences; so in spite of the joyous notes of the band, and the glad greetings shouted to and fro, they sink again into awe-struck and confused silence. When the last cabin passenger has disappeared from the dock, the immigrants with their baggage are loaded into barges and taken to Ellis Island for their final examination."

Ellis Island Registration Room

The admonishment from this writer in 1905 stood out to me as I read the account of his observations of many fellow travelers. He wrote:

"Let no one believe that landing on the shores of 'The land of the free, and the home of the brave' is a pleasant experience; it is a hard, harsh fact, surrounded by the grinding machinery of the law, which sifts, picks, and chooses; admitting the fit and excluding the weak and helpless."

Such was the day of arrival for many an immigrant to America in the early 20th-century, including Ilona Ujlaki, who stepped off of the S.S. Carmania and onto Ellis Island over one-hundred years ago and had her first real taste of America. She would make her home in this new land for the rest of her ninety-seven years.

Photograph of the Statue of Liberty in 1909 courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. Photograph of Ellis Island Registration Room thanks to Greg Krenzelok's Ellis Island webpage.

For more on the history of third class steamship travel, visit the Norway Heritage website, particularly Steerage Passengers - Emigrants Between Decks.

This article was originally published here at 100 Years in America in 2009 on the 100th anniversary of Ilona's immigration as America at last!: Ilona's arrival at Ellis Island, 1909. I've reposted it as part of the Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge. Follow me here at 100 Years in America as I try to keep up with the challenge to work through the alphabet while writing my family history.

H is for Hamburg and the Hopes of Emigrants

2012-07-31T00:00:00.000-04:00

Little Pista Tóth (Pista means "little Stephen" in Hungarian) was just shy of 2 1/2 years of age when he, his siblings, and his mother boarded the S.S. Pennsylvania in Hamburg, Germany on May 4, 1907. The family had left their home in northeastern Hungary to make a new life in America, where their father had already spent some time. István Tóth had been in Trenton, New Jersey during 1902 and 1903 and then returned to his wife Mária (Németh) Tóth and his two young daughters, Mária and Ilonka. István's young son and namesake, had arrived in 1904. István had then returned to America and awaited the arrival of his family, including the final child born into the family in Hungary: baby Lajos. (You can read more of this family's story here.)

This list of passengers departing Hamburg on May 4, 1907 lists Maria Tóth
of Gelej, Hungary with her children Maria, Ilonka, Pista and baby Lajos.
Father Istvan awaited them in Trenton, New Jersey. (Click to enlarge)

It is quite a picture to imagine this young family from the little village of Gelej, Hungary staying at the Auswandererhallen (Emigrants’ Halls) in Hamburg, Germany awaiting their ocean voyage to America.

Image of Hamburg's Emigrants' Halls thanks to
Ballinstadt Emigration Museum.

The BallinStadt, otherwise known as the Emigrants' City, was a multiple-building facility designed so that passengers arriving by rail from Eastern European countries could be directed straight to the port and avoid passage through the city of Hamburg. According to the Ballinstadt Emigration Museum website, "In the year 1907 alone, a total of nearly 190,000 emigrants departed from Hamburg into an uncertain future. Hamburg had become Germany’s number one emigration port."

The young Tóth family arrived at Ellis Island in New York via the S.S. Pennsylvania of the Hamburg-Amerika line fifteen days after departure from Hamburg. What a trip it must have been for a wiggly 2-year-old little boy, his older sisters, his baby brother, and his poor mother!

The Tóth family arrived in New York on the S.S. Pennsylvania on May 19, 1907.

Thanks to the Ellis Island Immigration Museum in New York City and the Ballinstadt Emigration Museum in Hamburg, I can visit museums at both little Pista Tóth's port of arrival in America and his port of departure in Germany. What an amazing chance to get a personal glimpse into what this little boy might have experienced just over 100 years ago on his trip to a new world with his family.

Image of the S.S. Pennsylvania of the Hamburg-Amerika Line
from the Gjenvick-Gjønvik Archives: The Future of our Past.

Note: The Staatsarchiv Hamburg has digitized passenger lists for those departing from the port during the years 1850-1934. These Hamburg passenger lists and their handwritten indexes are available through Ancestry.com.

This article was originally published here at 100 Years in America in 2008 as "A little boy, a big ship, and a brand new world". I've reposted it as part of the Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge. Follow me here at 100 Years in America as I try to keep up with the challenge to work through the alphabet while writing my family history.

G is for Grammy's Gravestone

2012-07-30T00:00:00.000-04:00

The couple whose portrait presides over this blog will be perpetually in their twenties as they oversee the articles I write here at 100 Years in America. This photograph, however, shows only one fleeting moment out of many moments, many days, many months and many years of their togetherness. Our gentlemen (Ferencz Ujlaki) lived to be sixty years old. Our sweet young woman went on to live to the ripe old age of 97.

I have done my best to share the stories of her life here at 100 Years in America. Born Ilona Bence in Legrad, Croatia (then part of Hungary) in 1884, she married Ferencz Ujlaki in 1905. Their move to America brought many changes, including some changes to their names. He became Frank, she became Helen, and their surname went from Ujlaki to Ujlaky and then finally to Ulaky in later generations.

By the time she passed away, our blog's patroness was the clear matriarch of the family. She had no peers in the family - she was mother, grandmother and great-grandmother - and everyone referred to her as Grammy Ulaky.

Still I couldn't help being surprised when I first visited the Ujlaky family cemetery plot and I read the inscriptions on the gravestone. There they were: Ethel, Frank Jr., Frank and.... Grammy. Ilona had changed her name to Helen in America, but by the time she passed away at age 97, she was no longer known by any other first name besides the endearing "Grammy". Since I am a genealogist, I was incredulous at my first sudden realization that her identifying first name was not on her gravestone. Then I realized that it was only fitting that the loved ones who knew her by the name Grammy would choose to place that sweet name at her final resting place.

The Ujlaky family gravestone is not only missing Grammy's first name (Helen),
but Ethel's birth year in incorrect. She was born in 1920.

F is for Frankie Ujlaky and a Forgotten Epidemic

2012-07-29T13:55:00.000-04:00

Young Frankie Ujlaki and his family lived in
New York's Lower East Side when this
photograph was taken about 1915

I shared the story of Frankie Ujlaki's early life in my article F is for Frankie: Beloved Firstborn, 1906 here at 100 Years in America. Frankie's young life was off to a good start, but tragedy struck in his teen years that altered the path of his life in a dramatic and devastating way. Here is the rest of his story.

At age fourteen, Frankie was big brother to three younger sisters. Two more siblings joined the family in the 1920's: another sister, Ethel, and a younger brother, Kasmir.

In 1921, when Frankie was fifteen, the family left Manhattan and made a move to Staten Island into a home built on Nugent Avenue by father Frank with the help of friends.

Frankie had gained an interest in drawing and found success as a young artist, even creating business cards for his work as a sign painter. These are some of his early drawings:

A postcard with some sketches drawn by Frankie Ujlaki

The portrait below was taken about 1924. This is a very special photograph for several reasons. It is the only portrait I have seen of the entire family together, and it was taken shortly before Frankie's life changed dramatically.

Frank and Helen Ujlaky about 1924 with their six children:
Wilma, Ethel, Mitzi, Frankie, Kasmir and Helene
(They had changed the spelling of their surname)

According to one of Frankie's siblings, May 1925 was the month they lost Frankie - not to death, but to something just as sorrowful, and perhaps even more difficult to accept.

It was in May 1925 that Frankie turned 19. It was also that month that he was hospitalized. He had contracted Encephalitis Lethargica, a rare disease of the brain (sometimes also known as epidemic encephalitis or "Sleepy Sickness", not to be confused with "Sleeping Sickness"). This condition caused various affects in different patients, many of them being left in a statue-like condition: not able to speak or move. The disease, however, was not always easy to diagnose. According to Dr. Smith Jelliffe, an American neurologist in practice during the epidemic, "There is probably no other acute infectious disease which gives rise to, or results in so many diversified types of mental disturbance."

This 1920 New York Times article is entitled
"New Sleeping Disease Mystifies Londoners"
(Click to enlarge)

Encephalitis Lethargica spread throughout the world slowly beginning about 1917, its seriousness becoming apparent to the medical community just as the world was reeling from the crises of World War I and the 1918 Flu. The medical profession scrambled to determine the origin of this epidemic encephalitis and find its cure. Municipal health departments worked to warn the population in hopes of preventing further outbreaks.

"SLEEPING SICKNESS WARNING SENT OUT: In an effort to prevent an increase in the number of cases of encephalitis lethargica, commonly known as 'sleeping sickness,' and other respiratory diseases. Dr. Frank J. Monaghan, Health Commissioner, issued a warning yesterday against careless coughing, sneezing and spitting." - New York Times, March 11, 1923

By 1927, doctors still had few answers about this disease, yet the "Sleepy Sickness" epidemic was coming to an end.

In her 2010 book, Asleep: The Forgotten Epidemic that Remains One of Medicine's Greatest Mysteries, Molly Caldwell Crosby, writes:

"This epidemic would strike as many as 5 million people throughout the world, killing a third of them and leaving thousands more institutionalized for the rest of their lives. The victims fell into a long sleep—for weeks or even months. Many never awoke. But the world soon learned that dying was not the tragedy of this disease; surviving it was."

Crosby writes that physicians' estimates indicate that a third of victims of this disease died from it, a third recovered, and another third developed permanent disabilities. I am not sure what type of recovery Frankie Ujlaki ever made from Encephalitis Lethargica. I do know that he never returned home to his family. In May 1925, he was hospitalized at the age of 19, more than likely within the Manhattan State Hospital on Ward's Island. The 1930 U.S. Census lists him there as an "inmate".

Manhattan State Hospital, Ward's Island in the 1970s

From the 1920 Handbook of the State Hospital Commission and Hospitals for the Insane come these statistics for Manhattan State Hospital on Ward's Island:

Certified capacity: 5,230
Number of patients: 6,045 (2,584 men and 3,461 women)

Even if the New York health department and hospital staff had the best of intentions, these crowded conditions must have made caring for these patients an impossible task. This is the world that became Frankie Ujlaky's life.

By about 1931 (according to his death certificate; at least by 1935 according to the 1940 U.S. Census), Frankie had been moved upstate into the Harlem Valley State Hospital in Dover, Dutchess County, New York. He would be attended by Dr. Charles Greenberg, who was the same age as Frankie, for over six of his eleven years there.

The 1940 U.S. Census indicates that Frank Ujlaky was a 29-year-old patient who had lived
at Harlem Valley State Hospital in Dutchess County, New York for at least five years.
He was actually 33 at the time of the census. (Click to enlarge image)

In 1936 Harlem Valley State Hospital was the site of the first demonstrations to doctors of insulin shock treatment, which would become commonly used throughout United States hospitals until the 1970s.

The empty Harlem Valley State Hospital today (photo thanks to Brian C.)

Frankie would spend the rest of his relatively short life institutionalized. He died at Harlem Valley in 1942 at the age of 36. His death certificate lists Pulmonary Tuberculosis as the cause of death.

Frankie Ujlaky was separated from his family for so many years, yet they remembered, loved and prayed for him throughout his hospitalization. I can only hope that he found comfort in happy memories of his early years with his loving family. Rest in peace, Frankie.

Frankie Ujlaky 1906-1942

More about Encephalitis Lethargica

For some reason, the early 20th century outbreak of epidemic encephalitis has fallen strangely out of the public consciousness. Molly Caldwell Crosby writes, "The 1916 outbreak of polio afflicted nine thousand people and went down in history as the most devastating polio epidemic in New York. By the time the epidemic encephalitis would suddenly and inexplicably disappear, it would infect at least five thousand New Yorkers, and it would not go down in history as anything at all." [Emphasis mine]

There has been surprisingly little written about Encephalitis Lethargica in the decades since this epidemic shocked the world of the early 20th century. We have very limited information about this illness, although a few theories have circulated as to its cause.

For further reading on the subject, I recommend Asleep: The Forgotten Epidemic that Remains One of Medicine's Greatest Mysteries by Molly Caldwell Crosby and Encephalitis Lethargica: During and After the Epidemic by Joel Vilensky PhD, both published in 2010.

More about Mental Institutions of the Early 20th Century

I understand that patient records for both Manhattan State Hospital and Harlem Valley State Hospital are inaccessible to researchers at this time. If you have any further information about access to these records, please post a comment or email me and I'll share the info with readers.

For an interesting look at some of the lives of patients within mental institutions during the early 20th century, see my article An Attic, Suitcases and a Window into a Hidden World.

This article was written as part of the Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge. Follow me here at 100 Years in America as I try to keep up with the challenge to work through the alphabet while writing my family history. I'm way behind getting started, but here goes!

F is for Frankie: Beloved Firstborn, 1906

2012-07-25T16:25:00.000-04:00

The firstborn child plays a special role in the life of each family. He or she helps ease (or shock) their mother and father into the parenting role, is usually the clear winner as the sibling with the most baby photographs, and holds a special place in his or her mother's heart. The firstborn is the reason each mother became a mother.

It was no different in the Ujlaki family with firstborn son Ferencz (later called Frankie). His parents first learned of his coming when they were thinking of immigrating to the United States from their native Hungary (they lived in an area that is now part of Croatia). Concerned that he would have difficulty pulling himself away once the baby was born, 27-year-old father Ferencz (later called Frank) sailed on ahead to establish himself in America and waited for news of the baby's birth.

Young Ferencz came into the world on May 9, 1906, a month after his father's departure. He and his 22-year-old mother Ilona spent some time living with her mother-in-law Teresija Globlek, but according to family legend, left because Teresija had the habit of keeping the money sent by her son for his young family. While Ilona waited for baby Ferencz to grow, they stayed the rest of the time at the home of her parents, Stjepan and Magdalena Bence, in Legrad.

Baby Ferencz with his mother Ilona, 1906

1909 arrived. Little Ferencz was now 2 1/2 years old and it was time to make the voyage to America. They sailed on the S.S. Carmania from Fiume on February 13, 1909 and arrived in New York seventeen days later on March 2, 1909. The trip must have been a true trial, and their suffering did not end once they stepped on land.

According to this passenger list for the S.S. Carmania
which departed Hungary for New York on Feb. 13, 1909,
Ilona Ujlaki had only $10 to her name. Her husband had only $5.70
when he had set out for America three years before.

After embarking at Ellis Island, Ilona's young son was diagnosed with measles, separated from her and quarantined at the Ellis Island hospital. Several days later, the reunion of the little family - father, mother and toddler son - must have been a moment a joy and relief.

Young Ferencz with his father: new immigrants to America

The Ujlaki family settled within Manhattan's Lower East Side along with many other immigrant families. In 1910, they lived at 415 Fifth Street and welcomed a new baby girl into the family.

The wedding of Peter and Maria Gres.
Ilona and Ferencz Ujlaki are seated with
their young namesakes at their sides.

1911 and 1913 saw the arrival of two more little sisters for Frankie. The 1920 census finds the family living at 431 E. 16th Street. Frankie is age 13, his sisters are Helene, age 9, Marie, age 8 and Wilma, age 6.

The Ujlaki family in 1915

The Ujlaki family attended Mass at St. Stephen of Hungary on 14th Street. (This parish would continue to play an important role within the family for many years, even after relocating to its present address uptown on 82nd Street in 1927). The Hungarian parish did not yet have a Catholic school, so Frankie (and more than likely, his sisters) attended school at the parish school run by Immaculate Conception Catholic Church (which was also on 14th Street). During the years 1906 to 1917, this parish was one of the largest within the diocese and educated more than 3,000 students within its crowded classrooms. Many of them were the children of European immigrants like Frankie.

Frankie Ujlaki on the day of his confirmation into the Catholic Church

The girls were taught by the Sisters of Charity. The boys' education was provided by the Christian Brothers, such as Brother Aloysius who figures prominently in these class photos from about 1917-1919.

Two class photos from Immaculate Conception Catholic School.
Teacher Brother Aloysius is the central figure in each of them.
Frankie Ujlaki is the boy circled in each photo.

Despite his family's difficult start after their emigration from Hungary to America, the Ujlakis had succeeded in providing for their family and giving their children an opportunity to receive a Catholic education.

Frankie's young life was off to a good start, but tragedy would strike in his teen years that would alter the path of his life in a dramatic and devastating way.

I'll tell the rest of Frankie's story in my upcoming article: F is for Frankie Ujlaky and a Forgotten Epidemic.

This article was written as part of the Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge. Follow me here at 100 Years in America as I try to keep up with the challenge to work through the alphabet while writing my family history. I'm way behind getting started, but here goes!

E is for "dear sister Ethel": 1920-1943

2012-07-21T22:13:00.000-04:00

She was the youngest daughter of Frank and Helen Ujlaky. A beautiful baby girl, she was baptized Etelka on March 21, 1920 at the age of one month. A first generation American born of parents who had emigrated from Hungary, she came to be known as Ethel. Two years later Ethel's younger brother Kasmir was born into the family: the last of the six Ujlaky siblings.

Ethel Ujlaky (age one) with her sister Mitzi
riding Buster the horse.
Staten Island, circa 1921.

The Ujlaky family of South Beach,
Staten Island, New York, circa 1926.
Ethel is the young girl standing
at left of her mother (seated).

Born between their two brothers in this closeknit family, the four sisters, who entered the family within the span of a decade, developed a special sisterly bond that grew throughout the years.

Here they are together in 1936 outside the family's South Beach, Staten Island home. Ethel, third from the left, is sixteen years old. Her sisters, all in their twenties, were making their way into adulthood, getting married and having children of their own.

The Ujlaky sisters, circa 1936.
Ethel is the third from left.

Sadly, when Ethel reached her twenties, tragedy struck. Suffering from tuberculosis, she was admitted to Sea View Hospital on Staten Island. Ethel died in 1943, about a month shy of her twenty-third birthday.

Knowing the love that her sisters share, I was deeply touched when I learned the story of their beloved younger sister Ethel. They, her brothers, and her parents suffered a deep loss when she left them at such an early age.

At the time of her death a friend of the Ujlaky family wrote a beautiful poetic tribute to Ethel. I treasure the handwritten copy of Ida's poem that I have in my possession. It is a glimpse into the life of a dear family member whom I never had the chance to know. Here is Ida's tribute to her young friend:

To Ethel

You were so lovely, with your figure so slim,
Always, you were smiling, and you would never give in;
Though your pain was severe, still you never lamented
You put on a good front and appeared contented,
We know you had the courage, and tried very hard to win,
But your strength gave out, in your valiant fight
And you just had to leave your kin.
You have gone to rest to eternal peace and may God bless you
For a brave soldier, you were both stouthearted and true;
Your spirit is here although you’re gone
And the memory of you Ethel will live on and on.

~ Written in 1943 by Ida, friend of the Ujlaky family

Rest in peace, "dear sister Ethel".

For more on Ethel Ujlaky's story, including a picture of her bronzed baby shoe, see The footprint of little Ethel.

For more about the Ujlaky family's home on South Beach, Staten Island, see "The Waves' Rippling Song": South Beach, Staten Island.

Sources of images:

Ujlaky sisters with Buster the horse, Staten Island, New York. Sepia photographic print. Circa 1921. Privately held by Lisa, [address for private use]. 2009.

Ujlaky family, Staten Island, New York. Sepia photographic print. Circa 1926. Privately held by Lisa, [address for private use]. 2009.

Ujlaky sisters, Staten Island, New York. Sepia photographic print. Circa 1936. Privately held by Lisa, [address for private use]. 2009.

This article was originally published here at 100 Years in America in 2009. I've reposted it as part of the Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge. Follow me here at 100 Years in America as I try to keep up with the challenge to work through the alphabet while writing my family history. I'm way behind getting started, but here goes!

D is for Donja Dubrava and the Drava River

2012-07-20T13:10:00.000-04:00

No matter what continent or country our ancestors called home, many of them found that the river was life. Waterway, food source, center of community life... Many grand modern cities had their start as a small fishing community at the edge of a river.

The confluence of the Mura and Drava Rivers in northwestern Croatia (photo by Filip Lučin)

The little town of Donja Dubrava that my great-grandfather Ferencz Ujlaki came from never became a modern city, yet for centuries it has bustled with the busy-ness of a river's edge village.

"Donja Dubrava is an old crafts and trade centre at the east of Međimurje County in northwestern Croatia, at the meeting place of two grand rivers – the Mura and the Drava. This position, at the confluence of these great rivers, was an important natural factor that influenced the historical and geographical development of this trade city."

Donja Dubrava, Croatia from the air (photo by davorfiles)

The area has seen continuous settlement from as far back as the early stone age, including throughout the Roman period. The Croatian people first arrived in the 7th century, with the first mention of the town's name (as Uj Dombo) in the year 1446.

Though the maximum population (which occurred around 1910) only reached about 3,500 (there are about 2,300 residents today), the town has a proud heritage and a history book of its very own: Općina I Župa Donja Dubrava: Povijesno-geografska Monografija (The Municipality and Parish of Donja Dubrava: A Historical and Geographical Monograph), published in 2007 by Bartolić, Feletar, Feletar and Petrić.

According to the book, "Donja Dubrava developed into the most significant trading and crafts town in eastern Međimurje. The town served the central functions for the geographic region of eastern Međimurje, Legrad Podravina and the Zakan region in Hungary. Craft guilds were established, trade and hospitality developed and the town had a particular role in activities tied to the Drava River – milling, sieving for gold, fishing, boat trade and raft transport. From 1828 to 1940, the largest wood trading company operated in Donja Dubrava, transporting wood along the Drava from Pohorje to Osijek, Novi Sad, Belgrade and Smederevo. Agricultural activities, particularly the production of cereals and livestock breeding, were of great significance for the life and development of the town."

St. Margareta Catholic Church in Donja Dubrava, established in 1790 (photo by Filip Lučin)

It's location at the confluence of two rivers has often brought much concern to the town during times of flooding. According to Ivan Vecenaj-Tišlarov in his book To My Homeland, "The Drava has never been timid and humble... The history of continuous changes in the Drava River course are both interesting and tragic." In fact, the neighboring village of Legrad (from which my great-grandmother emigrated) was previously on the same side of the river as Donja Dubrava. A serious flood in 1710 caused the river to change its course and placed the town of Legrad on the other side! For more about that story, and the history of the Međimurje area, visit my article Međimurje: Meeting place of rivers and cultures.

A monument in Donja Dubrava (photo by Filip Lučin)

I've written this article as part of the Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge. Follow me here at 100 Years in America as I try to keep up with the challenge to work through the alphabet while writing my family history. I'm way behind getting started, but here goes!

C is for Cars: The love of fine cars, it's in the genes!

2012-07-20T00:00:00.000-04:00

It's not the kind of hereditary trait that I would ever be able to confirm with DNA testing. I've noticed for many years, however, that a love for fine automobiles runs in the Toth family.

Not to mention the many gems in more recent generations, Steve Toth was the owner of a number of humdingers. There was the 1956 convertible pink Cadillac that he bought used in 1957. His wife Mitzi surely enjoyed that car the most out of all of his vehicles, since she has always favored the color pink.

Back in 1943, when World War II was in full swing, Steve ordered a Fleetwood Cadillac. By the time his order was filled, four years had passed. He received his black Fleetwood Cadillac in 1947. (Here he is enjoying a "trunk-side view" from the Fleetwood with his young son Stephen.)

You may have read earlier about Steve's Reo Flying Cloud, the car that he owned during his courtship with Mitzi. They drove off to their honeymoon in style in that car in 1930.

My hunch that this love for fine cars was hereditary was confirmed one day a few years back when I found Steve's father's World War I draft card. István Tóth had arrived from Hungary only a decade or so earlier, and now used the name Steven Toth. Although I don't believe he served in World War I, along with every other male citizen of eligible age, he was required to report to the United States government and fill out the appropriate papers.

Steven's World War I draft registration (pictured below) indicates his occupation at the time. Only ten years after Henry Ford had begun producing his Model T, Steven Toth, according to the document, was working as "Repairer" in the "Boston and M. Car Shop" in Charlestown, Massachusetts.

Another bit of circumstantial evidence? Or definitive proof? I'll leave it to you to decide whether or not this confirms the hereditary nature of this family's appreciation for fine automobiles.

This gene didn't seem to be as strong on the other side of the family - the Ujlaki branch. You see, Frank Ujlaki brought a car home to his family one day, more than likely sometime in the 1920's. In the process of introducing it to his wife and children, he somehow managed to plow into the fence with it. His wife Helen, concerned that the thing was too dangerous, made him take it back. He never owned another car again.

Frank did, however, work as a carpenter for many years. Part of the time he was a "wheelright" building wooden wheels. He also worked jobs buildling wagons and trucks out of timber. It took a lot of mathematical precision, talent and hard work to create the vehicles that he did. But I don't think his wife Helen would ever have let him drive them!

This article was originally published here at 100 Years in America in 2008. I've reposted it as part of the Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge. Follow me here at 100 Years in America as I try to keep up with the challenge to work through the alphabet while writing my family history. I'm way behind getting started, but here goes!

B is for Bassinet (and baby pictures!)

2012-07-19T21:16:00.000-04:00

B is for Bassinet: A basket with a hood over one end (often made of wickerwork), for use as a baby's cradle.

Family members and friends that remain with us throughout much of our lives reside in a very special place within our hearts. So do some family treasures. This family bassinet is one of those dear to my heart.

Purchased by my grandmother in the early 1940s, this sweet bassinet has welcomed many babies throughout the seventy-some years that it has been in use within my extended family. Lots of cousins new to the world have slept soundly within the comfort of its cozy wicker warmth.

Here I am as a newborn being held by my other (Irish) grandmother - next to the already two-decade-old bassinet. Pink ribbons for baby Lisa!

Over the years this little bassinet has turned baby blue for little boys (like my brand-new son pictured here):

And been decked out in pretty pink for little girls (like my sweet daughter pictured here):

I can't tell you what a joyful sight it has been for me to see a real baby sleeping soundly in this special bassinet after having it reside empty in my bedroom for awhile at the end of each pregnancy. All prettied-up and waiting for a baby, it has kept me (and many other mothers within my family) company during those last trying weeks, and warmly welcomed my little newborn bundles into the family once they'd arrived.

And, did I mention? It's the perfect height for big sisters to peer over and take a peek at the new baby!

This article was written for Treasure Chest Thursday. It was also written in response to the Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge. Follow me here at 100 Years in America as I try to keep up with the challenge to work through the alphabet while writing my family history. I'm way behind getting started, but here goes!

A is for Assembly: "The angels were singing"

2012-07-18T01:09:00.001-04:00

A is for Assembly: Those present to celebrate the liturgy; the community, the Church (as in people, not building), the worshippers, the faithful, the congregation.

It is hard to remember when I first saw the photos of my great-grandmother's village church in what is now Legrad, Croatia. My heart was drawn to the place immediately. I had known and loved my great-grandmother while she was in her 90s. Yet here was a picture of her childhood Catholic church helping me to imagine her there as a baby being baptized, a young girl receiving her First Communion, a young bride at her wedding. Later, I learned more about this little church - including its name (the Holy Trinity Catholic Church, called Župa Presvetog Trojstva in Croatian) and more about its three-hundred year history. I was also privileged to receive modern photographs of the building from a current parishioner (a distant cousin) and thrilled to find sacramental records for many special family milestones that occurred there.

One of my favorite glimpses into the church, however, came from a book of fiction. Marija Bango, a citizen of Legrad and a friend of my great-grandmother's, shared the stories of her childhood in her home village through a series of children's tales. One precious chapter in her book King of the Drava (Kralj Drave) shares the story of a little girl's unexpected adventure set in the little church in Legrad. Before the story begins, the author (in the voice of a young narrator) starts with an introduction to the inside of the Holy Trinity Catholic church from the perspective of a little girl whose short stature made the stained glass windows and statues seem to rise gloriously above her. It also describes the Croatian Catholics' customs which dictated where people sat during Mass and what they wore, etc., all from the perspective of this young observer. Here is an excerpt:

Altar of Legrad's Catholic Church today

"When I was but a girl, three or four years old, I'd go with my mother to Sunday Mass. I used to love that dinner Mass (that is what we called it, probably because we'd all go home to dinner afterward); they sang so nicely there. I'd listen to the sermon about angels on high somewhere in Heaven who had wings; they were good, they watched over children and grownups when they crossed the narrow wooden bridges scattered everywhere in our neighborhood spanning the Drava streams. "I have to describe for you, first, the inside of our church and the order in which the people stood and sat when attending these dinner Masses. On the left - the older women sat in the first row of pews and in front of them stood the girls from 10 to 14. Behind the pews stood bareheaded younger girls; then there were six rows of pews and behind them a great space. Here stood younger women with small children. The darker part of the church under the gallery was where men and women from other villages would stand. To the right of the church doorway was the same order of pews but on this side sat the men.

Young Medimurska Croatian girls (Legrad region) in traditional folk costume, 1915. Legrad children's author Marija Bango was born in 1917.

"The church was always crowded. When women were standing around me I'd feel as if I were at the bottom of a hole; I could hear the singing high up above swelling to the church ceiling. From time to time everyone would kneel. That was the moment when we children could finally see something. I would stand up on my tiptoes. I'd quickly examine everything: around me were countless heads. Something was gleaming at the front of the church. Behind me in the great gallery I could see nothing but hair. Since that was where the pretty singing came from I felt certain that the angels were singing."

The beautiful interior of Holy Trinity Catholic Church, called Župa Presvetog Trojstva in Croatian

The little girl goes on to describe the beautiful stained glass windows and the lifelike statues in the church that captured her imagination. Marija Bango's stories about her childhood village and its lovely Catholic church are a treasure for those of us that can visit, but cannot turn back the clock and step into the time of our ancestors. What I would give to be able to step into the assembly during my great-grandmother's First Communion! The little girl in the story tells us:

"I loved to go into the church whenever I saw the door open. On my way to school in the morning before I turned left at the park toward the school house I'd look over toward the back door of the church to see if it was open and if it was I'd walk straight toward it, leaving my schoolward path behind me. I'd have time to stop in at morning Mass and still arrive punctually at school."

This little girl is probably much like my great-grandmother was as a child in Legrad. Though she left her homeland as a young bride, she kept a strong faith and found herself at home at other Catholic churches in America, helping to inspire the faith of many of her descendants, including me.

Marija Bango's second book of children's stories (pripovijetke djecu) about her native Legrad was published in 1993. The text is in both Croatian and English.

This article was written in response to the "Family History Through the Alphabet Challenge" suggested by Australia's Gould Genealogy and History News blog. Follow me here at 100 Years in America as I try to keep up with the challenge to work through the alphabet while writing my family history. I'm way behind getting started, but here goes!

Ádám to Zsuzsanna: Hungarian & Croatian given names in the family tree

2012-06-20T10:43:00.000-04:00

The gift of a name is one of the most important choices that parents can make for their children. Although nicknames often fall into place as the years go by, original given names have a way of remaining with most of us throughout our lives.

My sweet baby boy - one day old

As a parent myself, I have not taken the great duty of choosing a baby’s name lightly. In preparation for the birth of each of my children, I have spent hours looking for possible name choices, thinking through the meanings and sounds and fit of certain names, and talking through the choices with my husband. It has been no easy task to choose a good name to accompany a child throughout the course of life.

In addition to carefully choosing my children's names, I have long been interested in the names of my forebears, and the meanings of those names. A name on a page is often the first glimpse that I have received of each of my ancestors as I’ve worked back within the family tree. I remember the first time I wrote down the names of those in the generations immediately preceding mine. After questioning each of my parents and grandparents, I had the beginnings of my “pedigree chart” filled in - and what wonderful names it held! I looked with interest on each one and wondered what more there was to each of their lives.

I love the sound of the names of my family members in their ancestral languages. Somehow much beauty seems to be lost in the sound of the English/American translations.

My great-grandmother Helen was formerly Ilona. Her daughter Ethel began her life as Etelka. I’m partial to their original monikers – the beautiful sound of their traditional names rings more feminine to my ears.

Following is a look at Hungarian and Croatian naming traditions along with a few "name stories" from my personal family tree.

And little Pista became big Stephen

I was a little puzzled when I received the naturalization papers of the man I knew to be Stephen Toth. Everything was in order – his Declaration of Intention and Petition for Naturalization. What puzzled me was the small note attached to the top of the copy of his original paperwork that I received from the National Archives and Records Administration. The note indicated his arrival at Ellis Island in 1907, but instead of Stephen’s name, written there was the name Cisto Toth.

Who was Cisto? I had never heard Steve referred to by this name before, but clearly the NARA was confident that this was him.

It was only later that I learned that Cisto was a misspelling of a very common nickname for the Hungarian name Istvan (Stephen). Pista means “little Stephen”. Here was the record of proof that Steve Toth had arrived at Ellis Island as a very young boy indeed. He was two years old when he crossed that Atlantic and arrived in America. Somehow learning his childhood nickname, Pista, enabled me to better imagine his big adventure as a little boy crossing the ocean with his mother and sisters.

A tale of two Francis-es

Many of the first names of those in the immigrant generation in my family were transformed into their American equivalents after their arrival in the United States. My great-grandfather Ferencz, named in honor of St. Francis of Assisi (he is listed as Franciscus in the village church’s Latin language Baptismal register) became Frank in America.

The registry listing baby Franciscus Ujlaky (bottom row), baptized March 17, 1879

The Slavic people have had a long devotion to St. Francis. That devotion has continued in our family. After Frank’s death, his wife Ilona (translated to Helen in America) became a third order Franciscan. You could say that her entire adult life was spent in the service and companionship of a Francis of one kind or another: first her earthly husband, then the well-known saint.

Want more information about Hungarian given names and their English counterparts? A section of Jared Suess’ Handy Guide to Hungarian Genealogical Records is devoted to Personal Hungarian Names and Forms of Address.

Suess writes, “Many given names used in Hungarian are Saints’ and Biblical names. Diminutives used in addressing good friends, acquaintances and children became the best known given name of a man or woman. Many names and nicknames are expressed diminutively by adding the suffixes –ka, -ika, and –ke.” Suess gives several examples of the use of these Hungarian suffixes, including Ilonka for Ilona and Péterke for Péter. He also mentions other traditional nicknames such as Feri for Ferencz, and Pista or Pityu for Istvan. The guide includes a list of most of the common Hungarian given names and their English equivalents (if they have one).

The fact that my family resided in an area that changed hands between Austria-Hungary, Yugoslavia and Croatia meant that often one person’s name would be referred to in different documents in different ways. My great-grandfather Stjepan Bence was of Croatian origin, hence his Croatian name meaning Stephen. Living in an area controlled by Hungary during his lifetime, he may have been referred to as Istvan and his church baptismal and marriage records would have used the Latin version of his name.

From Ujlaki Ferenczné to Mrs. Helen Ulaky

As explained in Suess’ Handy Guide to Hungarian Genealogical Records, Hungarians list their surname first followed by their given name, just as many Asian cultures do.

Also, the English “Mrs.” is written by using the Hungarian article né following the husband’s given name. Knowing this helped me to find Ilona Ujlaki on my search through the Ellis Island website for her ship’s passenger list from 1909. She was listed as Ujlaki Ferenczné. Searching for her given name would have yielded me no success.

S.S. Carmania passenger list of February 13, 1909 listing my great-grandmother as Ujlaki Ferenczne

One more note of interest regarding Hungarian and Croatian given names is this: there is no grammatical gender, therefore no way to immediately distinguish male and female given names by their endings. Saša, Béla, Miksa and other names ending in "a" are men’s names, although they share an ending with women’s names such as Mária, Julia and many others.

In closing, here is a short list of a few of the Hungarian and Croatian names from my family tree, including their English equivalents (if they exist):

Male
Ádám = Adam
Albert
Andor = András = Andrew
Elemér = Elmer
Ferencz = Frank
István = Stjepan = Steven or Stephen
József = Josip = Joseph
Kasmir
Lajos = Louis
Vilmos = William

Female
Anna
Erzsébet = Elizabeth
Etel = Etelka = Ethel
Eva = Eve
Ilona = Helene = Helen
Katarina = Catherine
Lenzika = Lena
Magdalena
Mária = Mary
Terezia = Tereszia = Teresa
Vilma = Wilma

For more help with Hungarian and Croatian given names see the following websites: Hungarian Names 101, Early Croatian Given Names (both by Walraven van Nijmegen and updated by Brian Speer), and Behind the Name's Croatian Names. You may also be interested in Béla Kálmán's English language book World of Names: A Study in Hungarian Onomatology.

For more information on given names in the family trees (of many different ethnic backgrounds), visit The Catholic Gene to read my article The Catholic Family Detective: Finding Clues in Given Names.

This article, "Ádám to Zsuzsanna: Hungarian and Croatian Given Names in the Family Tree", is an updated version of an article that was originally published here at 100 Years in America on September 18, 2008.