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Our Dad had 8 grandchildren, who are all here today. I want them especially to remember and

appreciate the time they had with him. My one grandfather died when I was very young and the other

lived in Hungary, so I never had an opportunity to develop a relationship with either of them. On this

day, I encourage you grandchildren to think through your memories of your times spent with Nagypapa.

He was proud of all of you. He appreciated the music you play and the sports you excel in. You enjoyed

playing Kanasta or Uno with him and watching football on Sundays. In the past year he also had an

opportunity to sit down with you to explain to you his story and details of how he escaped from

Hungary.

Our Dad was born in 1936 in Tiszabecs, Hungary; a village on the Hungarian/Russian border but grew

up in Kisvarda, a town about an hour from there. His father, Kalman, worked in the Customs Service as

a tobacco and alcohol inspector. His mother Ilona was a peasant woman who tended to the house. I

remember when we visited them as a seven year old in Hungary. Ildi and I were taken aback as she had

no problem, grabbing a chicken from the back pen, cutting its throat and having it ready for dinner that

night. She was a tough woman.

Dads childhood was in the middle of World War II. Following the war and the Soviet occupation of

Hungary, his family faced many challenges and oppression. As a child, he enjoyed playing soccer as well

as a table-top soccer game called gomb foci with his brother, Kuli. He raised homing pigeons, and also

served as an altar boy. After graduating from high school, his father encouraged him to learn a trade, so

he attended school in Budapest and earned a diploma as an ophthalmic dispenser and became an

optician, fitting customers with eye glasses.

Following the October 1956 Hungarian uprising, he made the life changing decision to escape fromCommunist Hungary in search of a better life and brighter future. That December at age 20, Dad and a

school friend (his good friend Tibi, whos here today) boarded a train west towards the Austrian border.

They narrowly escaped the Soviet military and crossed the Iron Curtain on foot. Over the next few years,

he bounced around between several refugee camps in Austria. Refugees were allowed to leave these

camps during the day to work and earn extra money to call home or to buy stamps and other supplies.

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He recalled the back-breaking work of thinning rows and rows of carrots in the huge fields to earn an

extra 20 schillings a day. In February 1959, with Catholic Charities as his sponsor, he emigrated from

Eastern Europe to Buffalo, New York without being able to speak any English.

He soon obtained a job as an optician with Buffalo Optical Company. He initially worked in the shop;

grinding lenses, adjusting frames and sweeping the sidewalk in front of the store. Once he passed the

state board exam and his English improved, through classes, television, and reading the newspaper, he

started to serve customers. Dad worked for Buffalo Optical for 41 years and was a valuable and

dependable employee during this span, ultimately managing their most prominent store. He always felt

strong loyalty to the company that game him that first job while he was establishing himself here in

America. Through the years, he established a loyal clientele. Customers knew him as the nice European

gentleman with the continental charm.

He met his wife Marta Varosy in Buffalo through the tightly knit local Hungarian social network that

would make the core of his lifelong friends. She too emigrated from Hungary to Buffalo. They were

married in 1963. Although he didnt always give her the credit she deserved, he was deeply in love with

Marta and was a devoted husband. He loved his family, stressed the importance of education and took

great pride in the success and accomplishments of his children.

No family gathering passed without him coordinating a posed family photo. I didnt appreciate it at

the time, but there are now lots of pictures of him with his family that everyone will appreciate for years

to come. His butchered English phrases, outspoken quotes and mannerisms have become classics in our

family discourse and will surely live on. Some of these cannot be repeated in a church, but are gleefully

told by his grandchildren for an easy laugh. His many health challenges began in 1995, but hispersonality and sense of humor never changed to the end. Just a couple years ago, Mom and Dad

relocated to Louisville to get away from the harsh Buffalo winters and to be closer to family.

Over the years, Dad had lots of hobbies. He was an avid gardener, kept tropical fish, loved feeding wild

birds and was on a bowling team for a while. He enjoyed making stuffed cabbage and Hungarian

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sausage with his friends. Of course he had to build a smokehouse inside of our tool shed so that he could

smoke the Magyar kolbasz for everyone. He enjoyed wood working which prompted him to redo all of

the kitchen and bathroom cabinets. And then course there are the orchids. A few orchids quickly turned

into dozens. To care for them, he constructed a confusing concoction of extension cords, grow lights and

fans for them that probably would have invalidated his homeowners insurance if the house ever burned

down. He also was a member of Kiwanis, where he even served as Chapter President for a year.

He loved music, anything with a good rhythm, from Hungarian gypsy music, 1950s rock n roll, and

more recently, even Kentucky bluegrass. Parties rarely ended without him and other cohorts

harmonizing as they sang old Hungarian folk songs into the night. With his Hungarian friends in both

Buffalo and Louisville, he enjoyed discussing politics and playing cards. He had a relentless sweet tooth

and loved pies, ice cream, and overflowing jelly doughnuts. He was a dedicated Buffalo sports fan until

he died, and in his younger days, attended many Buffalo Braves, Sabres and Bills games. It was fitting

that the last game he watched with great interest was the Buffalo Bills defeating the New England

Patriots in dramatic fashion this past September.

Finally, it is also fitting that he was born on the 4th of July. Our Dad embodied and lived the American

dream. Following the turmoil of World War II and the Communist occupation of Hungary, he made the

courageous decision to come to the United States on his own in search of freedom, opportunity, and a

better life. Because of his decisions, sacrifices and hard work, he put his children in a position to excel

and be successful. His grandchildren are growing, thriving and taking advantage of the opportunities he

started. Were thankful that he lived a full life, we love him and thank him for all that he did and all that

he was. His memory will live in our hearts forever.