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To: Mike Buckley who wrote (8675)10/24/1999 9:48:00 AM
From: Percival 917  Respond to of 54805
 
Merlin,

What a heart warming story. Just when you think that no one cares about anyone but themselves, it is nice to have one's faith in humanity restored a bit. It sounds as if the people in that town are quite remarkable. What a great way for it to end for your mother's dream. I think I speak for the rest of the thread when I say we are extremely pleased for you.

Joel



To: Mike Buckley who wrote (8675)10/24/1999 10:16:00 AM
From: John Carragher  Respond to of 54805
 
thanks for sharing your experience.



To: Mike Buckley who wrote (8675)10/24/1999 12:23:00 PM
From: StockHawk  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 54805
 
Also VERY OFF-TOPIC,

Mike,

That was a great story that I can relate to with a somewhat similar story of my own: My grandparents were also from a tiny town in Italy not shown on maps. They came to the US at about age 20 after WW I and a few years ago (after they passed away) my wife and I went to visit that town to try and find my grandfather's house. My one "clue" was the wrought iron balcony that I thought was unique, but it turned out that just about every home had one. We stopped in the town's one restaurant and a couple of shops but could not get any information. Unfortunately I do not speak Italian and most people in this mountain village did not speak English.

We were close to giving up when we saw the proverbial "little old lady" - dressed entirely in black, stooped over with a cane and with wonderfully wrinkled skin. I figured she might be old enough to remember my grandfather. After some stumbling around with my very poor attempt to explain in Italian who my grandfather was her eyes lit up and she started talking rapidly and gesturing - making such a comotion that her daughter ran out to see what was going on.

It turned out that the old lady did remember both my grandparents, knew where the house was and also knew where several relative I did not know about lived. We were taken to my grandfather's house and then to a relative's home who welcomed us in and called other relatives to come over to meet the visitors from America. In short order there were about 15 people in their living room - offering us cake, wine, a meal - but no one spoke English. Then someone remembered that a woman was visiting from Argentina who spoke some Italian and some English in addition to her native Spanish. She was quickly invited over to act as translator. It was quite a day.

Sometimes the kindness and hospitality of strangers is truly amazing.

StockHawk



To: Mike Buckley who wrote (8675)10/25/1999 1:16:00 AM
From: tekboy  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 54805
 
VERY OFF-TOPIC TOO

For those who haven't done such "Roots" trips, they are certainly worth thinking about, although the emotions they produce are not always what one expects...

A couple of years ago my wife's 86-year-old grandmother decided she wanted to visit the town she and her then-boyfriend (later my wife's late grandfather) had emigrated from 70-odd years earlier. It would be her first trip out of the States ever since arriving. Of course my wife and I encouraged the idea, and soon we were off on an absolutely crazy journey to some former shtetl in the backwoods of western Ukraine. It was a totally '90s trip: the grandmother, my wife and I, and my wife's brother and his English boyfriend, travelling by rented van with an interpreter into the most godforsaken area I've ever been to.

Our version of Mike's cemetery story was equally moving: all of the town's 40% preWWII Jewish population, including the grandmother's brother and wider family, had been killed by the Nazis in giant massacres right at the beginning of the German invasion of Russia. The local Ukrainian population hadn't given a damn, nor had the Soviet government, and so the massacre site remained unmarked until 1991, when some emigres had returned and raised enough money to put up a memorial. Anyway, we paid our respects and, like Mike, got led around by the wizened old custodian, who turned out to know some people who had known some people, etc. etc.

In the end, the trip was great for my grandmother-in-law, who had an incredible time reminiscing and showing her descendants where she and her late husband had grown up, etc. My wife and I, however, had equally strong emotions in just the opposite direction. Both of us thoroughly detested the region and practically everything in it, and joked that we wanted to erect a statue to the family members who had the good sense to get the hell out of there... :)

Sometimes it takes a "roots" trip to make you realize just how American you are...

tekboy@andboydoesUkrainianfoodsuck.com



To: Mike Buckley who wrote (8675)10/25/1999 10:03:00 AM
From: Sommers  Respond to of 54805
 
OT: I was adopted as an infant. Besides my two little girls (ages 1 and 2 1/2) and one brother, I have no living relatives. I particularly was touched by your story of searching for evidence of your family's roots. Thanks for sharing it.

A warm welcome back, Mike.

--Ruth