What are the villages  you are searching ??? Nyiregyháza  is available . I could be wrong but  I think that county is limited  for 1869. Available for the following counties: Abauj-Torna, Bars, Komárom, Nyitra, Szepes, Sáros, Zemplén and portions of Esztergom and Vas counties but if your village historically borders with one of the above counties , you may find it on there . Magda Message: 4 Date: Tue, 27 Jul 2010 14:03:19 -0700 (PDT) From: "Nick M. Gombash" <nickmgombash@yahoo.com> Subject: [HUNGARY] 1869 Census To: hungary@rootsweb.com Message-ID: <336438.8821.qm@web53905.mail.re2.yahoo.com> Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Hi everyone, I need some assistance with the 1869 census. I'm browsing the FHL microfilm catalog and it seems that the counties are incomplete for the 1869 Hungarian census. Does anyone know if a Szabolcs county 1869 census ever existed.. or why there's only a few specific counties available for the 1869 census? Very confused. Thanks, Nick

I'm wondering if they had trade certificates in the middle 1800's. My grandfather, Geza Bako had several and one for example was 16 Oct 1902 from Tiszalok stating that he was a black smith and allowed to work in the town of Tiszadada and he had documentation proving he was eligible to be engaged in his trade. Another was the next year that stated that he was recommended as a clean living, sober, diligent and good worker. I'm looking for something for his father, Daniel Bako who was a tailor in the town of Nagyhalasz. Would I most likely find this for Daniel (if one is available) in the Szabolcs Archives in Nyiregyhaza? Sharon Dickson-Engelman

Nick, check this out. https://wiki.familysearch.org/en/Hungary_Census Laszlo (Les) Josa -----Original Message----- From: hungary-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:hungary-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of Nick M. Gombash Sent: Tuesday, July 27, 2010 4:03 PM To: hungary@rootsweb.com Subject: [HUNGARY] 1869 Census Hi everyone, I need some assistance with the 1869 census. I'm browsing the FHL microfilm catalog and it seems that the counties are incomplete for the 1869 Hungarian census. Does anyone know if a Szabolcs county 1869 census ever existed.. or why there's only a few specific counties available for the 1869 census? Very confused. Thanks, Nick ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to HUNGARY-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

Hi everyone, I need some assistance with the 1869 census. I'm browsing the FHL microfilm catalog and it seems that the counties are incomplete for the 1869 Hungarian census. Does anyone know if a Szabolcs county 1869 census ever existed.. or why there's only a few specific counties available for the 1869 census? Very confused. Thanks, Nick

It would be great to hear a real Hungarian band. Most of our functions now have a DJ. Can't find the bands anymore and the one Gypsy band isn't real reliable any more. Karen ----- Original Message ----- From: "Ilona" <Ilona2@centurytel.net> To: "Hungary Rootsweb.Com" <hungary-l@rootsweb.com> Sent: Monday, July 26, 2010 11:37 PM Subject: [HUNGARY] 74th HUNGARIAN DAY IN LORAIN,OHIO > ISTEN HOZOTT > > For everyone from Toledo to Hiram and > anyone passing through. > > The 74th Hungarian Day will take place Sunday August 1st at the St. Lad's > Picnic Grounds on Clinton Ave., Lorain. Gates open at noon. > > The menu consists of chicken paprikas, schnitzel with dumplings,stuffed > cabbage, cabbage/noodles, kolbasz,gulyas,langos. > > We also have a short program at 3p.m. > > We also have a great dance band from Akron, "The Hungarians". > > If you want more info. feel free to contact me. > Ilona2@centurytel.net > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > HUNGARY-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes in the subject and the body of the message >

Found an interesting site! http://www.gjenvick.com/ "The future of our Past" cheryl

When I was in Hungary 10 years ago and trapsing through cemetaries looking at headstones, I was told that if a family didn't pay for the grave's upkeep, the grave would get "recycled" in 25 years. so, doesn't that mean there is no chance of ever finding anyone's grave? Jay Farrell

ISTEN HOZOTT For everyone from Toledo to Hiram and anyone passing through. The 74th Hungarian Day will take place Sunday August 1st at the St. Lad's Picnic Grounds on Clinton Ave., Lorain. Gates open at noon. The menu consists of chicken paprikas, schnitzel with dumplings,stuffed cabbage, cabbage/noodles, kolbasz,gulyas,langos. We also have a short program at 3p.m. We also have a great dance band from Akron, "The Hungarians". If you want more info. feel free to contact me. Ilona2@centurytel.net

Good Idea!! I will mention it. Karen ----- Original Message ----- From: "Cheryl Wenberg" <cherlock@cheqnet.net> To: <hungary@rootsweb.com> Sent: Monday, July 26, 2010 10:54 AM Subject: Re: [HUNGARY] HUNGARIAN PICNIC Saturday > Karen, They ought to have surname tags on........someone might > recognize a name. > > cheryl > > -------------------------------------------------- > From: "Karen Gacsala" <gacsala3@earthlink.net> > Sent: Monday, July 26, 2010 10:43 AM > To: "Hungary" <HUNGARY-L@rootsweb.com> > Subject: [HUNGARY] HUNGARIAN PICNIC Saturday > >> For everyone in the Chicago area there is a large indoor Hungarian picnic >> this Saturday, July 31, noon until 5pm. >> >> Place: East Chicago Knights of Columbus >> Indianapolis Blvd and Knights of Columbus Drive. Just north >> of East Chicago South Shore Station. >> >> Kolbas, Stuffed Cabbage, Langos, Pork Stew and more to eat. Home made >> baked goods and noodles . >> For info 219-397-1907 or 219-365-8387 >> >> ------------------------------- >> To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to >> HUNGARY-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the >> quotes in the subject and the body of the message >> >> > > > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > HUNGARY-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes in the subject and the body of the message >

The New York Tribune Sept. 21, 1919 The Keeper Of America's Gate Has No Use For Stowaways Dry thy tears, Aunt Clarissa, and weep no more - Little Michael is not all that he seems, or perhaps, it might be better said, he is more. Little Michael GILHOOLY is a stowaway. No figment of a salty reportorial fancy is he, with his 110 corporal pounds of Belgian-Irish blood and bone. Let us say rather that he has been introduced to his public - for Mike has a public - through the rose colored light of heart-affecting publicity. This little stowaway, known as Michael, gathers his public through the phenomena of printed words. He is pictured as a bright little boy, fascinated by the trappings of war, and one who would gladly follow soldiers to the end of the earth. At length he reaches Ellis Island bearing the status of an admitted stowaway, declaring allegiance to a new found country and expressing a desire to become a citizen. But Ellis Island stops him, Ellis Island, the sieve through which the immigrating nations of the earth are strained, holds up a hand. Now there is a tumult of sympathy. Letters come from dozens of kind hearted grownups ogering to adopt little Michael. Telephonic solicitation is made in his behalf, Little Michael has become the dead centre of a tiny whirlpool that sometimes is referred to a public sentiment. While this sympathy swirls and gyrates about the diminutive person of Michael, the Ellis Island officials ship him back to Europe. There is some mental anguish at the time on the part of Mike's public. But in a week he is forgotten and so will remain-until he comes again. Now, what are the facts about Little Michael, or rather about stowaways generally? Briefly, he is mentally inferior and of a psycho-neurotic trend. He has admitted, perhaps to Superintendent Percy A. BAKER, the busiest man on Ellis Island, that he does not wish to be adopted; that he abhors the thought of a city residence or a home on a farm; that he is following his true bent, that of a seeker of romance, through the medium of the sea. If admitted to the U.S. under bond the average stowaway will quickly prove his unfitness - has done so, indeed, many times. He will tire of guardianship and become unmanageable . Then he will break forth with the same spirit that made of him originally a juvenile derelict, and, if in his nature there is anything of the emotional defective, he has a capacity for genuine harm. In sum, while there is no want of picturesqueness about these little Michaels, there is considerable lack of practicality and an extended study of the stowaway situation and experiments conducted have convinced Ellis Island authorities that in ninety percent of all cases of this kind their judgment is sound. "I recall an Episcopal minister, among many, who had gone to no little trouble to secure the admission of a little Italian boy who was a stowaway upon an incoming ship among whose passengers was this rector," said Superintendent Baker last week. "We watched the boy while he was being detained and found that he was no different from hundreds of other stowaways whom we deem it unwise to admit. If he was dissimilar it was in his capacity to act. He was a very good actor. The minister visited us on several occasions in behalf of the boy and upon each of these trips when called into the Super- intedents office the boy's conduct underwent an heroic change. He was soft of voice and quiet of manner. He seemed in every way desirable. "Consequently this stowaway was at length admitted to bond, and with much thanksgiving he departed to the home of the minister. In two weeks the minister wrote informing us that he had underestimated the mission which he had undertaken and that he had been deceived in the character of the boy. In other words, he reiterated what we had told him. The bond was forfeited, and the boy sent back. "This treatment is not cruel. Very often it precisely coincides with the wishes of the bonded stowaway. It is love of adventure, the call of the sea, or what you like, that prompts the actions of the great majority of stowaways, and once on the sea they quickly lose their picturesqueness and revert to their normal instincts. As such they are not desireable. Isn't it better to make sure that American boys are developed under favorable circumstances than to become too solicitous about the welfare of one who has run away from any development provided for him at home?" Round A Corner Down in the temporary detaining room, or the "T.D." room, as it is dubbed, we were permitted to observe two feminine stowaways. We rounded a corner and came upon them unexpectedly. One had a cigarette in her mouth and a lighted match in her hand, her companion shielding the fire from the wind which sweeps down the bay and across Ellis Island. They promptly made off to a quieter corner of the big concrete yard. Reassured at length, they walked back, the smaller of the stowaways smoking her cigarette saucily and blowing clouds of smoke into the air. While she spoke no word, DUGAN, one of the Ellis Island guards, vouchsafed the comment that she was a "bad actor." "Indeed," said he, "When they are really bad, of all female stowaways deliver me from the tongue of the Irish or the Scotch." A little later, while we were ascending the stairs that led up from the "T.D." quarters, this particular stowaway, who was Scotch, sat languidly on a wooden bench, puffing her cigarette and exchanging pungent repartee with the less deadly of the species cooped on the third floor of the main building. No doubt these temporary detaining quarters provide a delightful study in racial character- istics. Here is the blood of the Old World met upon an equal plane. Three Irish women, dressed in what was indubitably their Sunday best, sat stiffly upon a wooden bench, though, to be sure, in the eye of one of them there was a twinkle. As steerage passengers they were waiting for friends to call for them, and in spite of their inhibition it was evident that they looked with faster beating pulse upon the great adventure which should carry them into the United States. But when it came to sitting stiffly and in holiday attire suitable to the occasion, nothing quite approached the degree of queenly isolation attained by two Jamaica negresses. High shoes shining like new-washed mirrors, picture hats that drooped over dusky brows, and colorful dresses bought recently from a West Indian shop created the impression that here were ladies who intended entering the United States with the sartorial dignity befitting the act. A group of Italian women sprawled over benches, sewing for and minding their children, garrulous beyond description and unmindful of visitors or other incident that broke upon the routine of the day. An English woman in black sat upon a cane suitcase, writing a letter, holding supremely aloof from a party of Slavs hard by. It was to be observed that the feminine groups kept severely to themselves and separated along racial lines. While the "human interest" cases are looked into by Superintendent Baker, he is not so interested in them as in those plentiful instances which require some nice application of the immigration laws to determine, and many is the yarn he can spin about these. Yet they would be more in place in a law journal. The Fatal Wedding "How about romance?" he was asked. The superintendent scratched his gray head and was inclined to sidestep. "Oh, that!" he answered. It was plain that he was willing to leave romance to the ship news reporters. "What was the biggest romance you recall?" The superintendent continued to run his fingers through his hair. "I remember," he said, "one case where romance went wrong, or rather where Cupid directed his arrows with a new aim. It was in the matter of an Italian boy living in Illinois, who had sent passage money to Italy to bring over his future wife. You will understand that often the fiancee never has been the fiancee. He tells one of his countrymen journeying homeward to pick him out a wife, and the act being done, he forwards the transportation. "This case was like that. The bride to be arrived in the US on schedule and investigation proved that she had taken the train for the West at the Grand Central Station. At length we received a letter from the Italian youth in Illinois that his fiancee had failed to arrive, and he solicited an investigation. "We looked into the matter and found that the Italian girl had ridden as far as Buffalo, but that the remainder of her ticket was uncancelled. Further investigation proved that she had returned from Buffalo to the Grand Central Station - the immigrant rarely becomes lost when he is not so minded - and, hiring a taxi cab at the Grand Central Station for the sum of $20, she had been driven to an address in Brooklyn, where she was joined by an Italian youth she had met aboard sip and to whom she was married that very day. "She had gone through with the fiction of starting for the West merely to satisfy the immigration officials, but her heart directed her along a different route. There was nothing to be done. The girl was legally married. The Illinois boy was out the price of a single passage. Tourful Italians The Italian is an interesting, if sometimes eccentric, immigrant. Thousands of him journey across the ocean and back again each year. Most of these are day laborers who work in the U.S. during the warm months, contrive to save a little and go back to Italy during the winter to live up their savings. Some like the U.S. and decide definitely to foresake their native land. But many more are inveterate tourists and keep the port officials busy with their comings and goings. Occasionally one is injured at work in this country, returns to Italy and then tries to come back to the U.S., which previously he has entered several times. In the event that his injury places him under the ban there are many cries of injustice and little of understanding. The Italian, indeed, is the most tourful of all tourists. Immigration under normal conditions totals 1,000,000 a year, while the emigration average is 581,810. In the three years of 1916-1918 inclusive there were 580,454 departures, less than the average for one year in peace times. During the years of 1912-13-14 the departures averaging more than 600,000 annually, aggregated 42 percent of the arrivals. This abundant travel indicates the attraction of the high wage scale in the U.S. for foreigners. The war virtually stopped immigration and also curtailed, because of the submarine menace, emigration. The business of Ellis Island is now at low ebb, with a total of less than 250 who are awaiting deportation or an official adjustment of their cases, as against a normal of some 1,500. It is an interesting island, for it is the gateway that leads into the U.S. and a new world- or from it - and here the inspector is an arbiter who decides whether or no the immigrant is of that stuff necessary to make a citizen of the U.S. While we were conversing a few doors down the corridor the youthful members of the Vatican Choirs, with theat Eton collars, velvet suits and bare legs, were having their cases adjusted that they might be admitted. Upstairs there was a putative grand opera singer and artist, viewed through the rose colored spectacles of sympathetic publicity, who was detained at the pier and held because it is believed his is an instance that violates the contract labor clause of the immigration laws. As a matter of fact, the superintendent said, he was a $16 a week chorus member. These cases reach print. They have popular appeal. Yet Maggie O'Hara, who has come over to cook and is intercepted by a guard in blue uniform, probably thinks, as she is detained upon Ellis Island, that her capacity for making a useful citizen is as indisputable as anyone's.

Karen, They ought to have surname tags on........someone might recognize a name. cheryl -------------------------------------------------- From: "Karen Gacsala" <gacsala3@earthlink.net> Sent: Monday, July 26, 2010 10:43 AM To: "Hungary" <HUNGARY-L@rootsweb.com> Subject: [HUNGARY] HUNGARIAN PICNIC Saturday > For everyone in the Chicago area there is a large indoor Hungarian picnic > this Saturday, July 31, noon until 5pm. > > Place: East Chicago Knights of Columbus > Indianapolis Blvd and Knights of Columbus Drive. Just north > of East Chicago South Shore Station. > > Kolbas, Stuffed Cabbage, Langos, Pork Stew and more to eat. Home made > baked goods and noodles . > For info 219-397-1907 or 219-365-8387 > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > HUNGARY-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes in the subject and the body of the message > >

All I can say it is very disturbing. Laszlo (Les) Josa -----Original Message----- From: hungary-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:hungary-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of Joseph J Jarfas Sent: Monday, July 26, 2010 9:04 AM To: hungary@rootsweb.com Subject: [HUNGARY] Limited space ... Hi all, even though Cheryl is educating us with her finds on immigration the below article caught my eyes: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/15/world/asia/15graves.html?scp=1&sq=singapor e%20journal%20in%20a%20scramble%20for%20space&st=cse In Europe, and especially Hungary, the limited space (population density) 'required' "rent a grave" measures, which most of us find 'disturbing'; but the above article shows what changes can bring to perception when extreme conditions exist. Joe Equinunk, PA - USA jjarfas@verizon.net ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to HUNGARY-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

For everyone in the Chicago area there is a large indoor Hungarian picnic this Saturday, July 31, noon until 5pm. Place: East Chicago Knights of Columbus Indianapolis Blvd and Knights of Columbus Drive. Just north of East Chicago South Shore Station. Kolbas, Stuffed Cabbage, Langos, Pork Stew and more to eat. Home made baked goods and noodles . For info 219-397-1907 or 219-365-8387

Hi all, even though Cheryl is educating us with her finds on immigration the below article caught my eyes: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/15/world/asia/15graves.html?scp=1&sq=singapore%20journal%20in%20a%20scramble%20for%20space&st=cse In Europe, and especially Hungary, the limited space (population density) 'required' "rent a grave" measures, which most of us find 'disturbing'; but the above article shows what changes can bring to perception when extreme conditions exist. Joe Equinunk, PA - USA jjarfas@verizon.net

The Evening World New York May 22, 1903 To And From Europe The annual flight to Europe has now fairly begun, with the promise of a full passenger list throughout the season. This means that perhaps 100,000 persons will go abroad for a brief or protracted stay. How much will they spend? With some whose purses are long, paying $1,800 merely for stateroom accommodations, is it an extravagant estimate that the average expenditure will be at least $1,000. One hundred million dollars! It is an enormous amount to pay for a pleasure trip. Some parts of it, as going into the coffers of Mr. Morgan's shipping trust, will remain at home in the land where it was amassed, but the great bulk of the capital will be distributed in England and on the Continent. The transatlantic traveller has become a factor to be reckoned with in our balance of trade with Europe. What is Europe giving us in return? Among other things, a bunch of 6,000 immigrants, who arrived at Ellis Island yesterday. Is not this one day's consignment from abroad almost sufficient in itself to liquidate the debt of $100,000,000? Does the statement appear extravagant in the light of the probability that their lifetime earnings here may not attain the high figures of the tourists' expenditure? Perhaps, but in this newly arrived 6,000 we have the raw material out of which that finished product, the American workman, is evolved, who makes possible Mr. Carnegie's boast in London of our industrial leadership of the world. They represent an improved quality of immigration from whom good citizens will come and from whose children we shall get inventors and Senators and perhaps a Steel Trust president, another barefoot, country chore boy.

The St. Louis Republic Mo. June 14, 1903 One Ring That Weds Six Thousand A Year New York - Fifteen weddings daily was the average at Ellis Island last week. Hymen was as busy as the immigration officials, and it looked for a time as if the office of the Assistant Commissioner would be turned into a matrimonial bureau. Verily, the immigrants marry in haste. Whether they repent at leisure is a question which has never been solved, as the couples are lost sight of as soon as the ceremony has been performed. Most of these nuptials are impromptu affairs. The bridegroom in half the cases is not aware that he is to be married so soon until he starts to leave with his sweetheart, who has just arrived from the old country. Then he is informed that they cannot leave until they are man and wife. Usually he accepts the situation gracefully, and there are but three instances on record in which the fiancee refused to accede to the conditions laid down by the authorities. Nevertheless, the man frequently demurs. He insists that he came to get his sweetheart and that they will be married as soon as possible. He is not quite ready for her, but he soon will have a home to which he can take his bride. Would it not be possible to let him take her and leave her with friends until he has saved more money? But the immigration officials are obdurate. No marriage, no girl. It is an immediate wedding or deportation for the lady of his choice. Then comes the question of a wedding ring. The bridegroom elect, of course, did not bring the all important circlet with him. But a wedding ring is soon found. The same band has done service at more nuptials than any other band of gold in the world. It is a "property ring," to speak in stage parlance, and with its aid thousands of couples have been joined in bonds which only death or divorce can sever. It belongs to Mrs. MULLIGAN, the matron of the women's ward, and she has loaned it to unprepared couples for the last twelve years. But the marriage ceremony of many of these new arrivals requires two rings. There is provision against this emergency. An ample supply of rings is kept on hand. They all look alike, but some can be purchased for 25 cents, while others cost $10. In fact, nothing is left undone to encourage marriage. Even a clergyman is provided. As the contracting parties in the majority of cases are of Catholic faith, the Rev. Father James GAMBERA, an Italian priest, officiates. A minister of any denomination can be obtained at short notice. Air of Solemnity There is a strange air of solemnity and absence of jollity at these impromptu weddings. The bride is more nervous than the young woman who has been anticipating the event for several months. Perhaps the scantiness of nuptial finery has something to do with her lack of cheerfulness. As for the man, he feels too much awe-stricken by the presence of so many strangers to give vent to his natural feelings, even if he is glad to have a wife sooner than he expected. When one reads of seven thousand people being handled at Ellis Island in a day there is a tendency to regard the arrivals as so many human cattle, who are hurried aboard barges and huddled into crowded rooms awaiting inspection. Nevertheless, the women present many elements of the picturesque. The faces of the older ones show either bewilderment or stolidity. The young alone are cheerfully expectant. The wrinkled, gray haired grandmother from Russia or Italy gives no more than a complacent thought to her garb, and the faded shawl about her head does not seem to her out of place amid more modish headgear. Not so the girls and young women. The eternal feminine shows in their glances at the gowns of people who have come over from New York to meet friends or relatives among the immigrants. Sharp indeed was the contrast presented by two sisters, natives of Southern Italy. The elder had been in America for five years. She had sent for her widowed sister, who came with three children. no better example of the effect of living in America could be obtained than was furnished by the meeting of the two sisters. One was clad in a neatly tailored gown, with a hat to match, and a coat of the latest cut. She had an air of confidence such as real success alone can give. The immigrant sister looked up at her with startled eyes. She hardly recognized the girl who had left Italy but five years before, and with a manner almost timid she grasped the well gloved hand stretched out in greeting. Her own costume might be well enough in Italy, but it was "dowdy" now. She might well view it with misgivings, for she wore a waist of black cashmere, trimmed with black velvet bands; her skirt, of the same material, was of bright carnation pink, trimmed in black velvet. On her head she wore a shawl of silken wool; the body was white, and along its length two vines of variegated green, with a fringe of bright pink. The dresses of the three children represented nearly all shades, from brilliant yellow to navy blue. In spite of the gaudy picture, however, the color combinations could not be called altogether inharmonious. Animated indeed are the scenes which mark the arrival of the barges at Ellis Island. Long before dawn the immigrants are astir, impatient to gain a glimpse of the new country to which they have voyaged. When the gang plank of the barge is down each immigrant does his or her part in the removal of the family possessions. Only the babe in arms is exempt from the common toil. Boys scarcely 6 years old drag bundles of clothing larger than themselves. Everything which the family owned, it seems, has been brought with them. >From the huge piles of blankets and clothing comes the rattle of kitchen utensils as they are jarred by the bumping against the boards. Even the baby's chair has not been forgotten. After landing they must undergo the ordeal of the medical examination, irrespective of age or sex, and that which the women must meet is particularly rigid. Should there be any indication of disease or illness the woman is sent to the detention room and a more thorough examination ensues. Sometimes the officials find it necessary to hold her days or weeks before they come to a final decision. In that event she is in the charge of a matron, and every care is taken to insure her comfort. She may be separated from her husband and older relatives, but not her little ones, unless there be danger of some contagious disease. It is a rule of the Immigration Bureau not to separate families, and in case of rejection of one of a family all of the children not of age must be returned by the steamship company which brought them. After the medical examination come the general examination. Here the immigrants are questioned as to their education, means of support, occupation and destination. There are only thirty questions on the list, but the examiner frequently has to ask as many more in order to be able to render a satisfactory report. Especially is this true of the women, for the female immigrants seem perfectly aware of that privilege of their sex, the last word. Then, too, they are apt to resent certain queries which they regard as personal and none of the Government's business. In the dining room the patriotic American witnesses a scene which satisfies him that his country has been slandered. Not even the poorest, hungriest citizen of the Republic could display such shocking table manners as are exhibited by the incoming Europeans. Although the steerage passenger may not be a representative of his country's etiquette, he most assuredly cuts down the average, no matter how high the standard set by the aristocracy. After the purchase of tickets and exchange of currency the immigrants are directed to the waiting rooms of the various railroads to which their transportation assigns them. Here an official of the Commissary Department examines each ticket. As the foreigners have no idea of the distance to be traveled before they reach their destination the Commissary Agent supplies them with food enough to enable them to live comfortably on their journey.

The New York Tribune March 15, 1903 An Ellis Island Tragedy Fate Of Excluded Immigrants Bereft Of Hope It was the hour before daylight and Ellis Island was sleeping more soundly than at any other time in the night. A dim half light was in the big receiving room, which is divided into pens like a Chicago stockyard. In spite of some attempt at ventilation the air was heavy with the odors of many steerages, the smell of the long unwashed, of mouldy lunches and what not. In two pens men and women were sleeping the sleep of hope. Their right to enter America - the land of promise, where men are free and life is worth living - had not yet been decided. Until the last chance is gone the immigrant hopes. In two other pens, one for women and small children, the other for men and boys, two score of unfortunates tossed and tumbled in their sleep. Instead of a soothing hope they were racked with fear, the fear that comes of having to return over a trail on which one has burned all bridges. They slept a travesty of sleep. Now and then a babe moaned on the breast of a restless mother. Once in a while a strong man cried out in a foreign tongue. Every man, woman and child in these exclusion pens was marked "not wanted" and was awaiting deportation. In easy chairs, here and there about the big room, uniformed guards or inspectors dozed comfortably. When possible, on account of the smell, they got near open windows where the smell, they got near open windows where the air which came in from the sea was still fresh. The exclusion pen for men held a few days ago one unfortunate who could not sleep. He was a barber from Miskolez in Hungary. By his side slept his sixteen year old son, a bright looking youth, whose sleep even the dread penalty of exclusion could not disturb. They were ordered deported, and all the night the father had been awake, wondering about the future of his wife and children in the little Hungarian village, of the fate of his son who was barred like himself. At last he felt around his belongings until he found a pencil and paper. He scrawled a note of farewell in Hungarian, slipped it into his son's hand, and risked waking him by planting a feverish kiss on his forehead. He took a revolver out of his baggage. With his left hand he located the exact spot where his hear was beating like a trip hammer. He put the muzzle of the gun there and pulled the trigger. The report rang out and echoed through the corridors. Before the son was awake the rejected immigrant was dead. Guards jumped from their chairs and hurried through the halls. They knew where to go - the exclusion pen. It was just an incident of a night at Ellis Island . Before the noon hour every one had forgotten but the son who was to go back to the fatherland without his father. "The suicides way may be our way." said one of the men in the pen to his companion, as they looked into the hopeless future. "His troubles are over now. They can't keep him out of that promised land." A native born American can hardly realize the bitterness of the immigrant's disappointment on being turned back at the very gates of the country on which he has placed every hope. A gambler who stakes and loses his last cent on the turn of a card still has faith in the turning of his luck. The rejected immigrant generally loses faith in everything, from God down to his miserable self. It was a German steamer day, the one on which a Tribune reporter visited the island, and the immigrant mill was working with the rapidity of a well oiled machine. The number of rejections was small for the thrifty German steamship managers have an inspection of their own on the other side of the ocean. The previous day the island was crowded with Italians, and a score of them, on one ground or another, had fallen below the standard which the government sets. There were also a refugee from Rumania, a couple of doleful Swedes and a few Hungarians. Woe is the portion of every man, woman and child who gets the "Not Wanted" mark. They take the verdict of the inspectors according to their different natures, but in one respect they are all alike - when it finally dawns on them that they can never become Americans hope goes out of their lives. They are going back - to what? With the aid of an interpreter one can ask them. "Who told you to come to America?" the inspector asked a hollow chested Italian who was sitting on a bag of his belongings in a corner of the "exclusion pen." He did not look up, and the interpreter touched him with his foot before he repeated the question. "I cannot go to America, they tell me," answered the unfortunate, and he looked ready to cry out of his big brown eyes. "Dozens of my neighbors in Caivano have come, and were allowed to stay. They write to me glorious accounts of this great free land. That is why I come." "How did you raise the passage money for yourself and family?" was the question which brought out the rest of the story. "I had a tiny farm near the city. I raised the garlic and potatoe, and sold them in Caivano. Year after year the yield grew less. I could barely make a living by working every hour of daylight. My children had to work, too, and there was no school for them on account of it. "In America all this would be changed. I make the money fast. My little boy and girls would go to school. So I sell the little farm, the cow, the pig, everything. It was not for much, but enough to bring us to America." The way they draw out that magic word, and the tenderness with which they speak it gives one an idea how much it means to them. "We come many days in the big ship," continued this son of Naples, "and then in a little ship they bring us here. A man terrible cross asks us questions. How much money? Twelve dollars, two for each one of us. It is not enough, they say. Where are our friends? I look for the letter, but it is lost. I try to think where they live, to tell the man, but I cannot. 'No money, no friends,' says the man. 'You have to go back to Italy.' "What can I do there now? No farm, no money, no chance of getting work to do. We will starve I suppose. I care not for myself, but my wife and the children, and we were going to be so happy here." A young Swede sat in the opposite corner, and played away on a cheap accordion, which he had purchased with practically his last cent just before leaving Stockholm. His case was a sad one, for he learned that morning not only of his rejection as an immigrant, but also that he was in the last stages of consumption. It was no wonder he played a weird sort of dirge. "I was going to have a fine farm in Minnesota," said he in answer to a question. His tense was intensely past, and the tone was entirely bereft of hope. "Then I was going to have a wife." His tune, for he kept on playing softly, took on a bit of life as he spoke of the wife. "There is something wrong with me inside. I am going to have no farm, no wife. Nothing but to die." In the room given over to excluded women there was still less of an understanding why every thing had gone wrong on the very threshold of success. Separated from their husbands for the time being, they are victims of countless fears. It is almost impossible to get them to talk. They have been warned by the men who sold them their passage to say as little as possible. They have their children to occupy their minds and hands, and there is less of moody brooding which so characterizes the "exclusion pen" for men. The immigration laws were never more rigidly enforced at this port than under the present administration of Commission Williams. The steamship companies are beginning to realize this. It is expensive business carrying excluded immigrants back to European ports. An inspection on the other side of the Atlantic to turn back all who are obviously unacceptable is being instituted, and booking agents in the provinces have been instructed to use greater care. It means a great lessening of Ellis Island tragedies.

What a wonderful find and so very heart wrenchingly sad. Thank you for sharing Teressa Lenkey -----Original Message----- From: hungary-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:hungary-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of hungary-request@rootsweb.com Sent: Sunday, July 25, 2010 12:00 AM To: hungary@rootsweb.com Subject: HUNGARY Digest, Vol 5, Issue 253 Today's Topics: 1. Uncle Sam's Revolving Door 1922 (Cheryl Wenberg) ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Message: 1 Date: Sat, 24 Jul 2010 21:38:06 -0500 From: "Cheryl Wenberg" <cherlock@cheqnet.net> Subject: [HUNGARY] Uncle Sam's Revolving Door 1922 To: <hungary@rootsweb.com> Cc: inlake@rootsweb.com Message-ID: <C5C34DEC458F49B8AE01BE5C9D774375@CherylPC> Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" The New York Tribune January 15, 1924 Uncle Sam's Revolving Door By: Rebecca DRUCKER It Operates On ELLIS ISLAND Under The Name Of The Quota Law And Explains Why Many Immigrants Have Nowhere To Go But Back The Dillingham restrictive immigration bill will doubtless live long after its temporary usefulness is over as a classic example of administrative humor. On its face it is a solemn enough document - an impressive mathematical formula with which to stay the avalanche of European immigration that waited to descend upon us with the coming of peace. Three per cent of the number of every foreign group now resident in the country to form the quota of each nationality admitted, nationality to be determined by birth - there were no shadows of ambiguity in that. No one foresaw the humorous possibilities of the formula - that it might one day result in such a situation as was set forth in a news item last week which described the arrival and detention of Aron KALMANOVITCH and his wife, with their eight month old baby, born in Constantinople. The same boat brought Moische SHIPGUEL and his wife, Ida, whose ten month old baby was also born in Constantinople while the family were on their way here. For a short time the cases baffled the officials. The parents, born in Russia, were eligible to enter. The children, born in Constantinople and arriving in excess of the Turkish quota, were not. By a triumphant Gilbertian solution the answer was clear. The parents could come in. The babies would have to be deported. Nor did people foresee the possible absurdity that people might believe themselves to be of one nationality and, by political changes too recent to be understood, belong to another - nor that, the boundaries being vague, the question of what quota they came under might be a deep mystery even to immigration officials themselves. This is all part of the richly humorous aspect of a world turned topsy-turvy by the war. But the humor does not reach these people who come from what deeps of tragic experience, over what strange and terrifying distances, to the brink of a magic freedom - to see a sunlit harbor through the grated windows of the detention quarters at Ellis Island, to be checked off, to receive a severe fumigation and a bath and to be shipped off on the next outgoing steamer. "Why are we here?" they ask in the detention quarter. The steamship ticket? That was honestly paid for. The passport? That is right. The Visas? They are all there - dozens of them to each passport. Health, morals, financial security - all are patiently and with fierce determination established. What is it then? One explains our system of quotas to them, but a mathematical equation is utterly useless to still these passionate inquiries. The fact of the matter is that, though the DILLINGHAM BILL provided a beautiful formula, it provided no machinery for putting the formula through. The snarl of excess quota cases at Ellis Island grows thicker every day. The immigration officials blame the steamship companies for bringing them in, but the steamship company has a smooth and perfectly unassailable alibi to get behind. No steamship ticket can be sold until a passport has been obtained and visa'd at the American consulate of each country. The consular offices of each country apparently have no machinery for combining to know the exact number of visa's they are still free to grant. The situation is complicated by the fact that in two months preceding the passage of the restrictive immigration law there was a stampede all through Europe for passports, and these were visa'd wholesale at all American consulates. The steamship companies are well within their right if they sell passage tickets on these visa's. Of course the law may penalize them for bring over these supernumeraries, it may fine them and charge them with the return of the unwanted aliens. It may censure them publicly, but their moral position remains slightly the more advantageous one. The old days of steamship exploitation are over. Here and there a corrupt steamship official, working with a corrupt government official, may combine to prey on a credulous peasant, but these cases are notably rare. Every immigrant has now some realistic comprhension of what America is - he has put away his childlike notion of an El Dorado. He has a realistic comprehension of the hardships through which he must pass to get to America and grimly provides for all that he can foresee. No; the real tragedy of these excess quota cases is that they are perfectly regular and official tragedies. If the immigrant's elemental, individual sense of justice does not comprehend at all the perfect official justice of his case, he may be excused. He has been hustled along through so many official corridors, he has been inspected and checked and fumigated so many times that it is little wonder that he has nothing but a blank stare left for the most astonishing event of all. If one could penetrate the fright and amazement and misery one might learn much. As, for instancde, where in the first place he finds the money to bring him over. Official fees, visa's, railroad fare - it costs each alien $300 to $400 to come even by steerage. it has cost a deported family of father, mother and three children about $1,000. It costs, reckoned in the money of the land, an untold number of lei or kronen or rubles. It is money for which every stick and stone of property, every dearest possession, has been sold. They do not risk it lightly. They have every assurance that government wax and tape can give them that the way is open before them - until they stub their toes against the final barrier. To what do they go back? "Their cases are too disastrous to talk about," said a welfare worker on the island. "They have sold everything to come here. A great many come with money sent them by their relatives. They have no homes to go back to, and often no friends. They are returned to the port of embarkation, and many of them, not having the money to go from the port to their homes, never get any further than that." It is perhaps not the part of the government to worry what becomes of John WIEZLER, seventy one years old, who arrived on the CARMANIA Nov. 28 to live with a son and daughter who waited for him anxiously. Just what goes on in the soul of the old peasan who has never been out of his village, who sells the farm that has been in the family for centuries to come over half the world to see his children and is turned back on the threshold, is no part of what an immigration official must know. Still, the life of an immigration official these days is not to be envied. The one who had the little snub nosed Jugo Slav boy in tow last Saturday hated his job as much as any man could. The little Jugo Slav wept quietly and wiped his blue eyes with a ragged sleeve, and the official shifted his quid and looked straight ahead and swore steadily, as he led the way to the tug that was to take the boy back. "It's a rotten deal, that's what I call it, that they're handing this kid. Mother and father are Germans, been here all through the war - this is the first chance they've had to send for the kid. It turns out the kid was born in Jugo Slavia - Jugo Slav quota full - can't let him in. Rotten shame, I call it if this country ain't big enough to accommodate one extra kid." The government tug was filled with weeping immigrants. Two girls, pale and pretty frightened, sat holding each other's hands tightly. Their aunt, a woman of some education, gave a fiery account of their plight. She, too, was being sent back. "They are my nieces," she said, Elizabeth and Margaret WEBER. Their father, a well to do cleaner and dyer in Summit, N. J., sent for them and for me. Their mother has taken out her first papers. Before I left Bucharest I asked the consul there to tell me if there was any likelihood of their being turned back. He said there was not. The consul in Havre told me it was impossible that I should be sent back even if the quotas were full because I had been in this country before and had lived here for seven years. I am taking these girls back to their grandfather, who is very poor and is seventy five years old. Their father would have given a bond for $30,000 for their release." A long previous residence in this country is no guaranty of admission to a returning immigrant. Louis FARKAS, who worked as a day laborer in the steel mills of Pennsylvania for nine years, went back to visit his aged father and mother and found the doors shut in his face when he returned - though a wife and family here are waiting for him. But - and this is quite the most painful part of the snarl - the immigration bill has contrived as many surprises for the official as it has for the alien. The clause which says that nationality shall be determined by place of birth has kept the Immigration Bureau in difficulties from the beginning. One of the earliest applications of this ruling, the case of Walter DAVIS, an officer in the British Royal Flying Corps, served to place the Immigration Bureau in an exceedingly ridiculous situation. Davis was born in Egypt, while his father, a soldier, was garrisoned there. The infant, Walter, left Egypt with his parents when he was five years old and never saw it again. Still, he had to be figured as an Egyptian and the Egyptian quota was full. He would have been quietly deported if his loud protests had not brought the manifest absurdity of the situation to the attention of Washington. One of Mr. Davi's pithiest protests is preserved in the archives. "If I had been born in a stable," he asked, "would I be a horse?" And so complete is the confusion, so worldwide and deep is the demoralization of all reasonable gauges for judgment, that it is precisely to that ridiculous standard that the department can cling for safety. It is precisely because the immigration authorities did not recognize the muddle that the newly created national boundaries in Europe have created that it finds itself floundering in its present morass. It did not take into consideration the fact that a Hungarian peasant in the east of what was once the Austro-Hungarian Empire has within the last few years become a Rumanian; that a peasant in the north has become a Czech and one in the south has become a Jugo Slav, and that these newly created or newly inflated states are not fairly represented by quotas based on the existing number of residents. Nor does it take into consideration the fact that in innumerable instances the alien himself does not know that he is now of a different nationality. He is of Hungarian stock, he speaks only Hungarian, and when he wants a passport he tramps stolidly to Budapest. It may be that he is a Czecho-Slovak now and should receive his passport from Prague. The Rumanian and Jugo Slav quotas, for instance, were much later in filling than the Hungarian quota, and the Czecho-Slovakian quota is still unexhausted. It may be that if the alien knew his true national status he would be spared much on entering. His ignorance, however, works disaster on no one more completely than himself. But the peasant of Central Europe is not alone in his ignorance. These large, vague, newly created boundaries all over Europe have left much in doubt. All along the new national lines lie debatable lands, and where a boundary line drives straight through a town even the town officials are hare put to it to judge on which side a man belongs. The aged husband and wife born in villages not five miles apart, who speak one and the same language, may not care much that one is suddenly become an Italian and the other an Austrian. They probably go on speaking the same language and thinking the same thoughts, regardless of the new map of Europe - until they arrive at Ellis Island and find that the doors are open to one and shut to the other. The quotas now exhausted are Africa, Austrailia, Bulgaria, Greece, Hungary, Jugo Slavia, Other Asia Other Europe, Palestine, Poland, Portugal, New Zealand, Spain, Syria and Turkey. A defect in the communications appears to make an immediate stop in the coming of aliens of this nationality impossible. They continue to come in diminishing numbers for weeks and sometimes months after the quotas have been filled. Whether we have any responsibility to these supplicants, whether the Dillingham law can be made elastic enough to include them, is a problem that clamors loudly for solution. ------------------------------ To contact the HUNGARY list administrator, send an email to HUNGARY-admin@rootsweb.com. To post a message to the HUNGARY mailing list, send an email to HUNGARY@rootsweb.com. __________________________________________________________ To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to HUNGARY-request@rootsweb.com with the word "unsubscribe" without the quotes in the subject and the body of the email with no additional text. End of HUNGARY Digest, Vol 5, Issue 253 ***************************************

The New York Tribune January 15, 1924 Uncle Sam's Revolving Door By: Rebecca DRUCKER It Operates On ELLIS ISLAND Under The Name Of The Quota Law And Explains Why Many Immigrants Have Nowhere To Go But Back The Dillingham restrictive immigration bill will doubtless live long after its temporary usefulness is over as a classic example of administrative humor. On its face it is a solemn enough document - an impressive mathematical formula with which to stay the avalanche of European immigration that waited to descend upon us with the coming of peace. Three per cent of the number of every foreign group now resident in the country to form the quota of each nationality admitted, nationality to be determined by birth - there were no shadows of ambiguity in that. No one foresaw the humorous possibilities of the formula - that it might one day result in such a situation as was set forth in a news item last week which described the arrival and detention of Aron KALMANOVITCH and his wife, with their eight month old baby, born in Constantinople. The same boat brought Moische SHIPGUEL and his wife, Ida, whose ten month old baby was also born in Constantinople while the family were on their way here. For a short time the cases baffled the officials. The parents, born in Russia, were eligible to enter. The children, born in Constantinople and arriving in excess of the Turkish quota, were not. By a triumphant Gilbertian solution the answer was clear. The parents could come in. The babies would have to be deported. Nor did people foresee the possible absurdity that people might believe themselves to be of one nationality and, by political changes too recent to be understood, belong to another - nor that, the boundaries being vague, the question of what quota they came under might be a deep mystery even to immigration officials themselves. This is all part of the richly humorous aspect of a world turned topsy-turvy by the war. But the humor does not reach these people who come from what deeps of tragic experience, over what strange and terrifying distances, to the brink of a magic freedom - to see a sunlit harbor through the grated windows of the detention quarters at Ellis Island, to be checked off, to receive a severe fumigation and a bath and to be shipped off on the next outgoing steamer. "Why are we here?" they ask in the detention quarter. The steamship ticket? That was honestly paid for. The passport? That is right. The Visas? They are all there - dozens of them to each passport. Health, morals, financial security - all are patiently and with fierce determination established. What is it then? One explains our system of quotas to them, but a mathematical equation is utterly useless to still these passionate inquiries. The fact of the matter is that, though the DILLINGHAM BILL provided a beautiful formula, it provided no machinery for putting the formula through. The snarl of excess quota cases at Ellis Island grows thicker every day. The immigration officials blame the steamship companies for bringing them in, but the steamship company has a smooth and perfectly unassailable alibi to get behind. No steamship ticket can be sold until a passport has been obtained and visa'd at the American consulate of each country. The consular offices of each country apparently have no machinery for combining to know the exact number of visa's they are still free to grant. The situation is complicated by the fact that in two months preceding the passage of the restrictive immigration law there was a stampede all through Europe for passports, and these were visa'd wholesale at all American consulates. The steamship companies are well within their right if they sell passage tickets on these visa's. Of course the law may penalize them for bring over these supernumeraries, it may fine them and charge them with the return of the unwanted aliens. It may censure them publicly, but their moral position remains slightly the more advantageous one. The old days of steamship exploitation are over. Here and there a corrupt steamship official, working with a corrupt government official, may combine to prey on a credulous peasant, but these cases are notably rare. Every immigrant has now some realistic comprhension of what America is - he has put away his childlike notion of an El Dorado. He has a realistic comprehension of the hardships through which he must pass to get to America and grimly provides for all that he can foresee. No; the real tragedy of these excess quota cases is that they are perfectly regular and official tragedies. If the immigrant's elemental, individual sense of justice does not comprehend at all the perfect official justice of his case, he may be excused. He has been hustled along through so many official corridors, he has been inspected and checked and fumigated so many times that it is little wonder that he has nothing but a blank stare left for the most astonishing event of all. If one could penetrate the fright and amazement and misery one might learn much. As, for instancde, where in the first place he finds the money to bring him over. Official fees, visa's, railroad fare - it costs each alien $300 to $400 to come even by steerage. it has cost a deported family of father, mother and three children about $1,000. It costs, reckoned in the money of the land, an untold number of lei or kronen or rubles. It is money for which every stick and stone of property, every dearest possession, has been sold. They do not risk it lightly. They have every assurance that government wax and tape can give them that the way is open before them - until they stub their toes against the final barrier. To what do they go back? "Their cases are too disastrous to talk about," said a welfare worker on the island. "They have sold everything to come here. A great many come with money sent them by their relatives. They have no homes to go back to, and often no friends. They are returned to the port of embarkation, and many of them, not having the money to go from the port to their homes, never get any further than that." It is perhaps not the part of the government to worry what becomes of John WIEZLER, seventy one years old, who arrived on the CARMANIA Nov. 28 to live with a son and daughter who waited for him anxiously. Just what goes on in the soul of the old peasan who has never been out of his village, who sells the farm that has been in the family for centuries to come over half the world to see his children and is turned back on the threshold, is no part of what an immigration official must know. Still, the life of an immigration official these days is not to be envied. The one who had the little snub nosed Jugo Slav boy in tow last Saturday hated his job as much as any man could. The little Jugo Slav wept quietly and wiped his blue eyes with a ragged sleeve, and the official shifted his quid and looked straight ahead and swore steadily, as he led the way to the tug that was to take the boy back. "It's a rotten deal, that's what I call it, that they're handing this kid. Mother and father are Germans, been here all through the war - this is the first chance they've had to send for the kid. It turns out the kid was born in Jugo Slavia - Jugo Slav quota full - can't let him in. Rotten shame, I call it if this country ain't big enough to accommodate one extra kid." The government tug was filled with weeping immigrants. Two girls, pale and pretty frightened, sat holding each other's hands tightly. Their aunt, a woman of some education, gave a fiery account of their plight. She, too, was being sent back. "They are my nieces," she said, Elizabeth and Margaret WEBER. Their father, a well to do cleaner and dyer in Summit, N. J., sent for them and for me. Their mother has taken out her first papers. Before I left Bucharest I asked the consul there to tell me if there was any likelihood of their being turned back. He said there was not. The consul in Havre told me it was impossible that I should be sent back even if the quotas were full because I had been in this country before and had lived here for seven years. I am taking these girls back to their grandfather, who is very poor and is seventy five years old. Their father would have given a bond for $30,000 for their release." A long previous residence in this country is no guaranty of admission to a returning immigrant. Louis FARKAS, who worked as a day laborer in the steel mills of Pennsylvania for nine years, went back to visit his aged father and mother and found the doors shut in his face when he returned - though a wife and family here are waiting for him. But - and this is quite the most painful part of the snarl - the immigration bill has contrived as many surprises for the official as it has for the alien. The clause which says that nationality shall be determined by place of birth has kept the Immigration Bureau in difficulties from the beginning. One of the earliest applications of this ruling, the case of Walter DAVIS, an officer in the British Royal Flying Corps, served to place the Immigration Bureau in an exceedingly ridiculous situation. Davis was born in Egypt, while his father, a soldier, was garrisoned there. The infant, Walter, left Egypt with his parents when he was five years old and never saw it again. Still, he had to be figured as an Egyptian and the Egyptian quota was full. He would have been quietly deported if his loud protests had not brought the manifest absurdity of the situation to the attention of Washington. One of Mr. Davi's pithiest protests is preserved in the archives. "If I had been born in a stable," he asked, "would I be a horse?" And so complete is the confusion, so worldwide and deep is the demoralization of all reasonable gauges for judgment, that it is precisely to that ridiculous standard that the department can cling for safety. It is precisely because the immigration authorities did not recognize the muddle that the newly created national boundaries in Europe have created that it finds itself floundering in its present morass. It did not take into consideration the fact that a Hungarian peasant in the east of what was once the Austro-Hungarian Empire has within the last few years become a Rumanian; that a peasant in the north has become a Czech and one in the south has become a Jugo Slav, and that these newly created or newly inflated states are not fairly represented by quotas based on the existing number of residents. Nor does it take into consideration the fact that in innumerable instances the alien himself does not know that he is now of a different nationality. He is of Hungarian stock, he speaks only Hungarian, and when he wants a passport he tramps stolidly to Budapest. It may be that he is a Czecho-Slovak now and should receive his passport from Prague. The Rumanian and Jugo Slav quotas, for instance, were much later in filling than the Hungarian quota, and the Czecho-Slovakian quota is still unexhausted. It may be that if the alien knew his true national status he would be spared much on entering. His ignorance, however, works disaster on no one more completely than himself. But the peasant of Central Europe is not alone in his ignorance. These large, vague, newly created boundaries all over Europe have left much in doubt. All along the new national lines lie debatable lands, and where a boundary line drives straight through a town even the town officials are hare put to it to judge on which side a man belongs. The aged husband and wife born in villages not five miles apart, who speak one and the same language, may not care much that one is suddenly become an Italian and the other an Austrian. They probably go on speaking the same language and thinking the same thoughts, regardless of the new map of Europe - until they arrive at Ellis Island and find that the doors are open to one and shut to the other. The quotas now exhausted are Africa, Austrailia, Bulgaria, Greece, Hungary, Jugo Slavia, Other Asia Other Europe, Palestine, Poland, Portugal, New Zealand, Spain, Syria and Turkey. A defect in the communications appears to make an immediate stop in the coming of aliens of this nationality impossible. They continue to come in diminishing numbers for weeks and sometimes months after the quotas have been filled. Whether we have any responsibility to these supplicants, whether the Dillingham law can be made elastic enough to include them, is a problem that clamors loudly for solution.

Judith Colby and KB, I found this publication on my facebook. There are many Hungarian pages on facebook which I enjoy. The Hungarian Voice Quaterly has been around since 2003, so there are 4 issues available to download online for all year starting with 2003 to present issue. Laszlo (Les) Josa -----Original Message----- From: hungary-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:hungary-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of K B Sent: Thursday, July 22, 2010 7:50 AM To: hungary@rootsweb.com Subject: Re: [HUNGARY] Hungarian Voice Quarterly This is a wonderful publication, I enjoy reading every issue, I save the Hungarian Folk Tales for my grandkids, the best part is the publication is written in English. > To: hungary@rootsweb.com > From: jcolby7777@telus.net > Date: Thu, 22 Jul 2010 00:22:53 -0700 > Subject: [HUNGARY] Hungarian Voice Quarterly > > > Thank you, Les Josa for giving a plug for this publication from > Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada!! > > New Hungarian quarterly publication called Hungarian Voice. > > http://www.newhungarianvoice.com/ > > Judith Eöry Colby > North Vancouver, BC, Canada > > > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to HUNGARY-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message _________________________________________________________________ Hotmail has tools for the New Busy. Search, chat and e-mail from your inbox. http://www.windowslive.com/campaign/thenewbusy?ocid=PID28326::T:WLMTAGL:ON:W L:en-US:WM_HMP:042010_1 ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to HUNGARY-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message