^{The News}
Dedicated to Austrian-Hungarian Burgenland Family History

This newsletter concerns:

1) THE PRESIDENT'S CORNER

2) BURGENLAND DELEGATION VISITS NORTH AMERICA

3) WHERE DID THEY SETTLE? ...AND WHERE ARE WE? -- REDUX

4) NEW HATES FOR OLD (by Edward A. Steiner)

5) HISTORICAL BB NEWSLETTER ARTICLES:
    - DNA AS POINTER TO FAMILY HISTORY (by Gerry Berghold)

6) ETHNIC EVENTS

7) BURGENLAND EMIGRANT OBITUARIES (courtesy of Bob Strauch)

The pair that swapped rankings are New Jersey and Florida, with Florida moving up one place, a move which seems to have more to do with Florida increasing more rapidly between tabulation years than any of the other top nine than with New Jersey growing particularly slowly... perhaps this reflects the average age of our membership... we are retiring south!

Now for the complete 2017 data... In the table below, the states are listed in order of most mentions in 2017 as a settlement destination and then, when there are ties in destination counts, ordered by the number of members we have from that state. (If you want to see the complete data for 2011, reread the prior article here; it has a similar table for that tabulation.)

To keep the table more compact, the first 27 states are in the left two columns and the remaining states in the right two columns. You should read the two numbers, for example those for Pennsylvania, as 585 mentions as a destination state and 280 BB members residing there.

As I said in 2001, "Given PA had the most destination mentions, it makes sense that it should have the most BB members. However, it would be just as sensible to argue that, because it has the most BB members, it should have the most mentions as a settlement destination! Indeed, one cannot separate these causes and effects... and I suspect both are true!"

I'll continue quoting myself below, but inserting corresponding 2017 data in square brackets []:

"However, those emigrants and their descendants did and do move to other states, so imbalances are likely. If we look at our list, we see that, of the 4 states I mentioned above with the most BB members (PA, IL, MN and CA, in that order), the first 3 also have the most emigrant destination mentions... but CA (4th in members) is way down at 18th [now 17th] with only 21 destination mentions [16 via the 2017 counting method]! So, our emigrant ancestors didn't go to California (as least as a first destination) but their descendants sure did! The other "sun" states, Florida (23rd in destination mentions but 7th in members [now 23rd and 6th]) and Arizona (tied for 38th (with 13 other states) [now 32nd] with 0 destination mentions [now 1 mention] but 16th [now 15th] in members) behave the same, unsurprising way. Perhaps a bigger surprise is that Virginia and North Carolina, tied at 28th (with 10 other states) [now 31st and 27th] with only 1 destination mention each [now 1 and 2 mentions], rank 11th and 16th in members [now 10th and 17th].

"In the opposite direction, look at South Dakota (SD)... it was the 9th most frequent destination with 122 mentions [now 15th with 32 mentions] but ties for only 31st in count of members [still 31st]. The emigrants went there... but their descendants didn't stay! North Dakota (ND) is the same way (11th in destination mentions, 30th in members [now 14th in mentions, 29th in members]) as is Iowa (IA, 15th and 37th [16th and 35th]).

"Another (perhaps better) way to consider these data is to compare destination mentions and BB member counts to the state populations. If so, then California being 4th in BB members makes sense, as it is now our most populous state. And, a hundred years ago, in 1910, it was 12th in population, so 18th [now 17th] in destination mentions is not so odd. Pennsylvania was the second most populous state in 1910 (and is 6th now) and Illinois was 3rd in 1910 (5th now). Likewise, Florida (32nd in 1910, 4th now) and Arizona (46th in 1910, 16th now) make more sense. If anything, Minnesota, 19th in 1910 and 21st now in population, makes less sense being 3rd in both emigrant destination mentions and BB members."

Back in 2011, of other countries, Canada dominated with 217 mentions. The next most were Germany (36), Hungary (28), Australia and England (15 each), Uruguay (12), New Zealand (9), Argentina (8), Denmark (4), Slovenia and Israel (3 each), Netherlands, Croatia, France, Brazil and Sweden (2 each), and Switzerland, Italy, Romania, Poland and South Africa (1 each).

I can't give you comparable 2017 destination data for these other countries, as I did not tabulate them this time... well, with the exception of Canada, with 118 destination mentions (I needed the Canada numbers for my purpose in redoing these tabulations).

However, I do have member residence data, which I'll compare to 2011 data by again inserting [updates] in my old text:

"Consistent with these numbers, Canada also dominates other countries in BB membership, having 101 members [now 133] (if it were ranked among the US states, it would have come in 5th in mentions and in members! [still true!]). Second in BB membership among other countries is Austria with 86 [now 115], but it makes little sense to rank Austria as an emigrant destination, and I have not done so. Australia (27 members [41]), Germany (23) [31], England (18) [22] and Hungary (13) [20] are the other countries with more than ten BB members [still true]."



So what data supports my argument that, if the Burgenland Delegation were to add or substitute a new destination for their North America visits, then St. Paul, MN and St. Louis, MO, were the obvious choices?

Note that the Delegation currently visits Pennsylvania [via the Lehigh Valley], Illinois [via Chicago], New York and New Jersey [via New York City] and Canada [via Toronto].

Based on our BB data, these states/countries ranked 1st, 2nd, 4th [3rd, if you lump New York and New Jersey together] and 5th in destination mentions and in BB members, both in 2011 and again in 2017, so the Delegation chose wisely their current destinations!

But what are the next two states in destination mentions? Yes, Minnesota and Missouri in both tabulation years: Minnesota ranks 3rd [if you don't lump NY/NJ, 4th if you do] and Missouri is 6th. Minnesota also is 3rd/4th in BB members whereas Missouri ranks 8th in BB members in both tabulation years (retirement destinations California and Florida have more BB members than Missouri, pushing it back a little in those rankings). As for cities for the Delegation to visit in those two states, St. Paul and St. Louis are the obvious choices as they were the major emigrant destinations in their states and both cities currently have active BB-affiliated Burgenland genealogy/history groups.

To top that off, the next-most-logical state, based on these types of numbers in both tabulation years, would be Wisconsin, which can easily be lumped with Minnesota (like I did above for NY/NJ). Do note that the BB-affiliated group in Minnesota actually calls itself the Midwest Burgenland Bunch, and Midwest in this context typically refers to the states of Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, North Dakota and South Dakota. Our Midwest BB group is so-named because it draws members from all of these states. If I lumped all five Midwest states together, they would be 2nd only to Pennsylvania in destination mentions and BB members.

I rest my case.



Well, actually I do not rest my case... after I completed the above article I decided to consider BH&R data too. I assume you recall that BH&R (Burgenländers Honored and Remembered) documents burials of Burgenland-born emigrants who died and are buried in North America. Thus we have counts, by state/country of where emigrants (truly) ended up.

Not surprisingly, these numbers mostly follow the pattern of our BB destinations and residences. Also, like those numbers, they have their built-in biases... for example, we look a little harder for burials in the areas we know emigrants went to and we hear from BB members who tell us about their buried ancestors. However, the biggest bias might be that some of our largest (especially East Coast) metro areas do not publicly document deaths and burials to the same degree that smaller communities do... the New York City metro area, in particular, requires that you be "noteworthy" to make it into the local papers, so that makes it harder for the BH&R staff to discover burials. Regardless, I will report the numbers that BH&R has.

Thus, the top BH&R burial states are: PA 7743, IL 5424, NY 1155, MO 991, IN 887, WI 639, NJ 589, MN 561, Canada 480. The big differences here from the BB destinations and residences data are that Missouri jumps up to 4th in rank and that Minnesota and Canada drop, respectively, to 8th and 9th. Like the other data, if we lump the NY/NJ (1744) and the Midwest (1709) burials, they move up into 3rd and 4th, while Canada rises to 7th (because some states before it were moved into the lumps). The one "interloper" into our previous top 6 is the Indiana burials.

As you can see, these data also support the idea that Minnesota and Missouri are reasonable new destinations for the Delegation. They also raise the possibility that Indiana (driven by the South Bend emigrant enclave) deserves some consideration. Indiana was 9th in destination count (7th after the lumpings) and 13th in BB members, so it was already fairly deserving by those criteria. Its big negative is that the BB does not have an organized subgroup there that could host a visit.

OK, now I really will rest my case!

Text from lead-in to article in The Independent:
Dr. Steiner, a recognized authority and specialist in immigration problems, knows whereof he speaks in other matters involving racial characters, customs and differences. He was born in Austria, and educated in Germany. He emigrated to America in his early twenties, and worked a hard way up thru mine and mill and factory. A Jew, he was converted to Christianity, was pastor of Congregational churches, and for some years past has occupied the Chair of Applied Christianity in Grinnell College, Iowa, during which period he has alternated teaching with writing and lecturing.

In Austria the Danube is still blue; there alone its waves roll to waltz time and not to war tunes; there alone its shores are still sacred to poets, composers and lovers. There is no "Watch on the Danube" to be kept, sword in hand, though one can scarcely turn around in that disseminated country without striking a foreign land. The boat on which I am traveling sails under the Hungarian flag, unchanged in color and in its defiant spirit, and the crown of St. Stephen with its tilted cross spreads over its folds. If you speak German when you step upon this boat, the stewards and officers will treat you with contempt; if you speak Slovak or Czech, you would better have your morning coffee tasted by some one whose life is not so valuable as your own.

As the city recedes everything which the Viennese covet, and cannot obtain, appears upon the dining room tables: White bread, butter, milk, bacon, coffee and best of all, lumps of sugar. No wonder the Magyars are haughty. Not only have they food and drink in abundance; an Hungarian krone buys ten Austrian in exchange, and the waiter accepts your inferior script with an air of condescension.

The journey down the Danube is scenically unimportant, but from the ethnic standpoint most interesting, and never before so much as now, when my fellow passengers are citizens of new countries and often reluctantly. Now more than ever, they speak their respective languages defiantly, and thus develop new angles of friction.



The Treaty of St. Germain has made the confusion of nationalities worse than ever; for it has merely transferred the turbulent waters of the old monarchy into smaller containers, not one of which is as yet strong enough to stand the pressure.


Partition of Austria-Hungary: The heavy black lines are the old boundaries of Austria and Hungary, and the shaded areas show the new nations.

I met Germans who are reluctant Czechs, Magyars who have had to swear allegiance to Slovakia or Rumania, Austrians who are governed by Italians, and some whose political fate is not yet decided and who do not know where they belong. No one seems quite comfortable under the new order, and my fellow passengers, though boasting of their republics and kingdoms, look as happy as the wearer of a new pair of patent leather shoes when the sun is hot; while those who have no new country to boast of are happy in nursing a new grudge. Altogether, as I watch them around the breakfast table, these children of the old Austro-Hungarian monarchy, they seem to be in the attitude of the couple who, after being divorced, discovered that though they could not live with each other they could not live without each other. Economic necessities are driving them, not into each other's arms, but nearer to one another, and each is waiting for the other to acknowledge the mistake of such complete separation.

The new confusion begins to manifest itself at the first landing place from Vienna. The steamboat officials call it Pozsony, and the Germans good-naturedly say that they will get off at Pressburg; but the Slovaks name it defiantly, Bratislava, and they all get off at the same place to live with each other as happily as the proverbial cat and dog. I do not leave the boat with them, for it would mean the cancellation of my visé, for which the Czechs charge ten dollars, American money. I go on to Budapest, the Danube fortunately being international, and we cross the line from Czechoslovakia into Hungary unmolested.

My Magyar fellow passengers send a few choice curses upon the government which now controls the city hallowed by the tombs of Magyar kings, and every stone of which is eloquent of Magyar history. The Danube broadens as we leave Bratislava, the luxurious plain of Hungary spreads before us, broad-skirted and picturesque peasants are at work in the fields, town and cities peacefully rural in their aspect are left behind, and as the night comes we pass Margareth Island and land in Budapest, which like all cities that have tasted of the Bolshevik terror, is nervous, and the traveler is met by excusable suspicion.

The police, the hotel porter, innumerable loyal citizens, formerly army officers, "watch your step," and the city in which one formerly breathed so peacefully and happily, smells of the prison, till one can almost hear the clanking of the chains. The white terror is a real terror, and a gloom has settled over the city.

Budapest seems to me the least peaceful spot on the globe, and no one disguises the fact that the vanquished Magyars are gathering strength for another blow. It is not merely wounded pride which makes them build monuments that cry out for vengeance; not only is there a loss of peoples and of territories—millions of their own race are now the subjects of nations which are upstarts in history, and thus far have remained culturally beneath them. The feeling of France for her lost provinces, the Italian passion for its Irridenta were never as strong as the cry of Hungary for her abducted children.

Incapable as the Magyars had shown themselves in governing the minor nationalities, stupid and venal as were their officials, they did display a certain attractive chivalry. In spite of the fact that one could get anything for money in the Hungarian courts, there was a freedom from sordidness. The Magyar was an aristocrat, too indolent to be severe, too pleasure loving to be industrious; he was what the Americans call a "good fellow." Defeat and revolution have left their mark upon him, the good fellowship is gone, the government is sternly militaristic, and the officials are the former army officers; there are repression and unspeakable cruelty. The Hungarian Government at the present time is a militaristic government at its worst.

My visit coincided with the futile attempt of the former King Charles to regain his throne, and while the houses were not flagged for his welcome, the people were ready for him, and had the Little Entente not threatened, he would have been received in triumph. Hungary is incurably monarchic, because historically it is an aristocracy, and though this last of the Hapsburgs is not even an inch a king, either physically or mentally, he is the constitutional heir to the crown of St. Stephen, and it will be kept for him until Hungary is strong enough to defy her encircling foes. For that purpose she is seeking an alliance with Poland, and for that reason she is guided by France in her plans.

It was a pleasure to find that one of the strong influences for good in Budapest is the American Red Cross, especially as I have found much criticism against it in other places, largely because of its bureaucratic spirit. The Red Cross, because it was so closely identified with the war, has retained somewhat of the militaristic spirit, and its workers are regarded as the least approachable among our relief organizations. This evidently is not true in Budapest, where the humaneness of its chief has permeated the entire staff, and a peculiarly tender affection for America has been the result.

English and American Quakers are at work among the University students, feeding and clothing them, and one can but wish that something of their international spirit may be infused into the altogether abnormal nationalism of the Hungarians.

I did not leave Budapest with regret, though I was again thrilled by this modern European city which is still typically Hungarian, its architecture born out of its national life. I felt the majesty of the Danube, its beauty enhanced by its monumental bridges, its shores undesecrated by the waste of industry and the clutter of commerce. I visited the old haunts, heard gypsy music at its best, and American jazz (played in my honor) at its worst. I wandered thru its picturesque markets, my eyes gladdened by the sight of gorgeous peasant costumes, my hands itching for their possession, and my nose tickled by the sharp odor of paprika lavish and unconfined, offered for sale. In spite of all these joys it was painful to live there even the forty-eight hours the police allowed me; for between the Red terror and the White, there is little difference to a liberal like myself.

I found nowhere regrets, but for having lost the war no hope for the future but in reconquest, no aim but in reestablishing a discredited monarchy, and making permanent the rule of the privileged class. In Budapest reaction is in the saddle and it is riding rough shod over liberal thought. I experienced a peculiar feeling of relief when my passport was viséed for my departure, and when the city was lost in the level plains as my train crawled reluctantly toward the Czechoslovak border. My joy in leaving Hungary was heightened by my anticipation of returning to my native country, which, strange to say, I was visiting for the first time; as ten years ago there was no Czechoslovakia, not even in President Masaryk's dreams. An autonomous Bohemia and a Slovakia in which the Slovak tongue was recognized as the official language, was the most even such an ardent patriot as myself expected.

I thought that I would fall upon my knees at the border, in the ecstasy of seeing my young dreams more than realized, I thought that I would kiss the soil of Czechoslovakia, freed from the rule of the Hapsburgs, and now forever sacred; but there was no triumphal arch thru which to pass, no ornamental gateway opening wide its portals to the returning patriot worshipper; only a rough, uninviting shed, surly looking soldiers and customs officials who have become famous in all Europe for the relentlessness of their search. If the judgment day holds half the terrors of the Czechoslovak borders, then, oh sinners, haste and repent!

I should have been prepared for a certain disillusionment, for freedom is not in new flags and repainted barriers, but in men's souls. The landscape was unchanged, and Slovak goose girls and geese were as ubiquitous as ever, and the straw-thatched villages as monotonously alike as of yore; but I did expect a thrill, and I feel cheated because I did not have it. I did not anticipate that the gentleman who examined my passport would fall about my neck, and call for a robe and a ring and the fatted calf; but he might have sensed the situation when he saw an American passport, and read that I was born in this new country, and he might at least have been civil. Perhaps the official who examined my meager bag could tell from my few belongings that I was a returning patriot, breathless to enter my native country, and he may have wished to show me special courtesy by compelling me to undress myself in a room which was a good many degrees below comfortable warmth; but when he poked his fingers into my armpits I thought he carried his joyous welcome too far.

Fortunately or unfortunately, my experience was no exception; for men came out of other such torture chambers, pale and trembling or flushed and wrathful; one woman grew hysterical, and one fainted, and had to be revived by a physician. The few kronen of revenue which are added to the treasury because of this superior vigilance, cannot compensate the republic for the ill will engendered, and such super-zeal ought to be curbed for the sake of the good will the new country needs.

At last I was free, or at least I thought I was, to kneel down and kiss the earth or give vent to my emotions in a less ardent way, when I was accosted by two minor officials who demanded a tax on my bag, just because it was a bag. Having no Czechish change, I had to return to the station to get the proper kronen, and by the time that formality was over and I had relieved my feelings, my patriotism and my enthusiasm had vanished, and I entered my new native country with my much dampened stock of joy at low ebb,

Bratislava, formerly Pozsony and still more formerly Pressburg, thrilled me nevertheless. It has grown to be a national capital and shows it, Magyar soldiers are displaced by Slovaks. French influence manifests itself in color, cut of uniform and in the presence of French drill masters. Business seems to be "booming," the stores are crowded, new and numerous banks lure the investors, and members of the Szokol parade the streets in their picturesque uniforms. There is a haughty air about these new citizens of a new republic, quite in contrast to their modest if not cowed spirit when they lived under Magyar rule. Bratislava was, however, always more German than Magyar, and is now more Magyar than Slovak, and the haughty masters are met by the defiant spirit of their new subjects.

As formerly the Slovaks spoke their language in defiance of their Magyar rulers, so now the Hungarian language is spoken in the spirit of revolt. The German language still lives. Two daily papers are published, there are occasional theatrical performances and concerts, and the influence of German Austria is felt, if anything, more than before the war.

No one in Bratislava seems to love the new masters, or speak well of them, and I know one hotel where it is wisest not to speak Czechish when one asks for a room. There are many restaurants where the waiters pretend not to understand orders given in that language.

However, the Government seems stable if not always wise, and there is order, even though the former privileged classes call the new order "Bolshevism." The railroads and post offices function with regularity, industry and commerce are fostered and are thriving, and the contrast between Czechoslovakia and reactionary Hungary and ruined Austria is great enough to make one patient with the lesser evils.

Slovakia is a lovely country and its people so dear to me that I soon forgot the unpleasantness at the border. The stations and towns thru which I passed had unfamiliar names, as one of the first acts of the new Government was evidently this rebaptism of the landscape, a sacred ceremonial dear to nationalists everywhere.

My native town came off easily, for it remained the same, except that it wears a new suffix which is not at all unbecoming, and it is the same dear "stuck in the mud" drab-looking town it has always been. I could show it to a stranger in fifteen minutes. There are four more or less straight streets meeting at the town square, two churches sadly wanting in beauty, and in need of repair, a synagogue, the most unique building in town, one house of two stories which is called a castle, half a dozen stores, the three cemeteries, two uninviting inns, and the tour of the town would be over.

I could have tarried days, for I wanted to see the old modest house where I was born, on whose damp walls I wrote the alphabet those cold mornings when the damp had turned into frost. I wanted to climb up into the garret and smell the apples and pears which were buried in the grain to keep, as long as my keen appetite would allow. I wanted to visit the room where Uncle Joe, the "three-quarters of a man," an erstwhile Union soldier, showed me the picture of Abraham Lincoln, and made me an American and a patriot. I wanted to visit the yard where Uncle Joe drilled us, and Yanezy Pal's orchard where we swore to deliver our Slovak people from the yoke of the oppressor, Abraham Lincoln was responsible for some very severe whippings that I got after a Fourth of July celebration, when we nearly burned down the town.

After all, this coming back to one's childhood home is a sad experience. No one cared or knew that I had organized an army of seven boys, one of them lame, to march against our enemies, and I had to report at the police station the same as everybody else, and the chief of police had as little consideration for my feelings as had the custom house officers.

The new order has not rejuvenated anything or made anybody happy, now that freedom is won and the new masters have made themselves at home. I used to see happy faces, and I saw none. Shops have been plundered twice. Magyar sympathizers, and there are not a few, have been imprisoned and the new officials are if possible more arrogant than their Magyar predecessors. The agricultural laborers have unionized and were on a strike; taxes are of course much heavier, the value of the krone is low, though much higher than the Austrian. Freedom of movement is restricted by exacting passport regulations. "We have more freedom," an old time friend said to me, "but we have less room to move in."

My people used to do their shopping in Vienna, which is three hours' distance by railroad. Now they must shop in Prague, which is at least ten hours by fast train and infinitely more expensive. Even severe illness is capitalized for the good of the Czech capital; for no one can go to see a specialist in Vienna without a passport, which is refused, and the sick person is told to go to Prague where the physicians are "just as good." Of course passports are granted, but one must have "pull" and know whose palm to "grease." No wonder that the average citizen of Slovakia does not enthuse over the new order. The fact is, the Czechs, like most of mankind, have learned nothing from history. They are repeating the blunders of the Magyars. They are accused of being repressive and chauvinistic, and are too eager to press the Slovaks into their linguistic and cultural mold.

The Peace of Versailles named the new republic Czecho-slovakia, and the Czechs are eager to do away with the hyphen, while some of the Slovaks want to widen it and create of their country an autonomous government. Czech officials have given Slovakia a carpet-bag administration, and while they are no more corrupt than their Magyar predecessors they are rude where the Magyars were civil. One could get favors from Magyar officials with good words; they count for nothing now. The Czechs want money, and plenty of it. This may be merely the gossip of enemies; but I have tested the new masters and I have not had a civil word in all my contact with the new officials.

Perhaps civil words are of little consequence, but I wish that the young man whom I approached at the station of Bratislava to buy my ticket back to Vienna had not shouted at me, asking whether I could not read that his window was for tickets to Czechoslovakia only; and he might have given me a civil answer when I asked him to direct me to the right place. I wish also that I had suffered less at the hands of the officials in leaving my native country. I wish they had not broken every one of the six eggs I carried across the lines, and had not confiscated the meat which was to sustain me on my journey. I wanted to say that I was happy in coming home among my people and that I was eager to come again, which I regret I am unable to say. I still love the Czechoslovak republic and wish it well. I still believe that President Masaryk is the Abraham Lincoln of his people and one of the greatest statesmen in Europe; but to quote a Slovak patriot: "What does it profit us if the landlord is a good man, and the agent and janitor are rascals?"

Czechoslovakia cannot rely upon military strength to keep it safe from its antagonistic neighbors, Poland and Hungary. It needs inner strength and a spiritual solidarity, and that it does not yet possess. The Czechs need to pray for grace to soften their harsh nationalism, to modify their exuberance, and to help them forget the ancient wrongs they suffered; or if they must remember, to remind them of how cruel a political yoke may be, and that it is not softened by the fact that they and the Slovaks are a kindred race. Even with the Slovaks completely loyal, the new republic has three or four million Magyars, and six or seven million Germans to reconcile, and I have seen little evidence that it is doing it.

I fear that the Czech nationalist is a poor reconciler, and I am not too sanguine in believing that when I again return to my native town it will be a part of that new republic which began its career with the good wishes of every American, especially those of us who have served the cause of Slovak freedom and have suffered for it.