My Grandfather "Pysta"

My father's father died in 1948 when Daddy was 19 years old. He was known in the United States as Stephen Popp. His background was confusing to me. He was well educated. Spoke Hungarian, a Ruthenian/Rusyn dialect, some Italian, and English. He may have spoken Romanian, as well. His mother's family were Greek Catholic priests, and he was raised in a primarily Rusyn village. Because of his religion and the village he was from, I decided he was likely an ethnic Carpatho-Rusyn. 

But. Always buts. Lots of things didn't fit. The family were landowners and wealthy by Carpathian standards. His surname and his mother's were common Hungarian surnames. He and several brothers had government positions. They were sent away to school. His father's family had migrated to the Carpathian region from Romania sometime in the early 19th century when the Hungarian government was trying to send Hungarians to settle in the borderlands. None of these are common to Carpatho-Rusyns.

My father's DNA tests suggested a lot of Balkan ancestry. Also known as Romanian or Hungarian. A puzzle that I let sit. For decades.

My inheritance from that side of the family included boxes and boxes of photographs, letters, notebooks, address books, my grandmother's needlework, candles, icons, and a packet of letters my aunt handed to me stressing that these were important. They were from a brother in Europe, concerning land my grandfather had left in his brother's charge. And she shared a whispered story that my grandfather had also left a child in Europe. He hadn't married there. But he had a mistress and a child. He never told his wife or children, but another brother living nearby knew and they spoke of it some. Usually in Hungarian so their wives wouldn't understand, but my great-uncle's wife heard enough to let my grandmother know what they were discussing. My grandmother was a great one for keeping secrets. Fortunately, she shared them with her daughter before she died. Including the fact that her husband had a pressed flower in his prayer book that had been there since before they were married.

I scanned the letters and documents she gave me, made a couple attempts at having them translated, but no one locally could read the handwritten early 20th c. Hungarian. So they sat. 

The AI translation of telegram yesterday naming my grandfather as Pysta was my first attempt in decades to examine the papers. AI made the difference. Today I uploaded 18 years of letters and legal documents. Gem (my nickname for Gemini) proved worthy of the name, revealing the story we never knew. Gem titled the timeline "The Two Lives of István Pap". Slightly dramatic, but not wrong.  

The first dated document according to Gem was a 6 November 1920 Certified Public Notary Deed (Hiteles kiadvány) recording a land sale of 10 acres in Satu Mare, Romania from brother János Papp to his brother István Papp for the sum of 5,000 crowns (Hungarian currency). I am going to have to go over the rest of the documents carefully to determine how much of this transaction actually happened, for what my grandfather was doing was leaving assets in charge of his brother to provide for his son, living in Ukraine. A son his brother called "a kis Pista" or little Pista, likely named Stefan or István as his father was. This all becomes clear in the later letters and documents. 

On the back page is a handwritten accounting of items my grandfather Pysta left with his brother. It appears they were sold, yielding almost 4,000 lei. Gem translated it thus:

"There is a fascinating informal addendum written in a different hand, dated November 7, 1920 (the day after the notary meeting). It looks like a receipt for "moving costs" or a final settlement of accounts between them.

It lists items and their value in Lei (the Romanian currency):

• 3,000 lei cash (készpénz)

• 450 lei for a pair of shoes (pár czipő)

• 250 lei for boots and trousers (csizma nadrág)

• 200 lei for a fur coat/sheepskin cloak (bunda)

• 27 lei for house money (ház pénz)

• 16 lei for an advertisement (hirdetés)

• 1,050 Hungarian Crowns were also exchanged.

• Total: 3,943 lei"

Again, I need to go over this more carefully to figure out if these were funds my grandfather took and used to travel to the United States or funds left with his brother for support of the child. 

To say that I am a fan of using AI in family history research would be an understatement. 

Digging in with Artificial Intelligence

 I've begun using Artificial Intelligence to transcribe and translate written records in my research. It is still slow, but far better and more accurate than my own attempts at working with 19th c. church books written in Church Slavonic, Rusyn and Hungarian. 

Today I took a telegram my grandfather kept addressed to his brother and asked Gemini (Google's AI tool) to translate the Hungarian for me. 

This is what I received. 

*********

Transcription of the Hungarian Text

Recipient: Pap Janos, posta ellenőr, Satmar 1. postahivatal

Message: feierevarmat 472:-18:-21:-10-! Legyen szombaton délután három órakor owarynat a határon = pysta =

---

English Translation

Recipient: János Pap, postal inspector, Satmar 1st post office

Message: [Coded numbers/Reference] Be at Óvári at the border on Saturday at three o’clock in the afternoon. = Pista =

---

Key Details & Context

• János Pap: The recipient’s name. "Pap" is a common Hungarian surname, and "János" is John.

• Posta ellenőr: This indicates his profession—a postal inspector or controller.

• Satmar (Szatmár): Now known as Satu Mare.

• Óváry / Óvári: This likely refers to Óvári (now Oar, Romania), a village located right on the Hungarian-Romanian border near Satu Mare.

• Pysta (Pista): This is a common Hungarian nickname for István (Stephen). The spelling "Pysta" is an older or more phonetic variation of "Pista."

• The Numbers: The string of numbers (472:-18:-21:-10) is likely a telegram reference code, time stamp, or a specific postal tracking sequence rather than part of the conversational message.

The message is a simple coordination of a meeting time and place, specifically choosing a location right at the border.

*********

I was most pleased with this. It is the first time I learned that my grandfather used the nickname Pysta with his family. I never heard him referred to as anyone other than Daddy. The border meeting seemed dramatic, so I commented that I wondered what they were up to. Gemini had lots to say. 

*********

If your grandfather was Pista (István) and the recipient was János Pap, you’ve likely found a record of two relatives coordinating a discreet meeting. In the context of the early 20th century in this region, a meeting "at the border" (a határon) was rarely just for a casual coffee.

Here is the likely historical backdrop for what they were "up to":

1. Navigating the "Trianon" Reality

The telegram likely dates to the period after the Treaty of Trianon (1920). Overnight, the region around Satmar (Satu Mare) was transferred from Hungary to Romania. This drew a hard international border through communities that had been unified for centuries.

• Óvári (now Oar, Romania) is a village that sits literally feet from the Hungarian border.

• Meeting "at the border" at a specific time (3:00 PM Saturday) suggests they were meeting at a point where they could talk or exchange items without necessarily going through formal, and often difficult, border checkpoints.

2. The "Postal Inspector" Advantage

János Pap’s job title, Posta ellenőr (Postal Inspector), is a crucial detail.

• As an inspector, he had significant authority over how mail and packages moved.

• In a time of heavy censorship and high border tariffs, having a relative who was a high-ranking postal official was a massive asset. He would know exactly when and where the "eyes" of the state were looking.

3. Possible Motivations

Given the family connection and the cryptic nature of a telegram (which was expensive and often monitored), they were likely doing one of the following:

• Family Logistics: Exchanging family news, money, or goods that were difficult to send across the new international border due to high taxes or Romanian-Hungarian tensions.

• Business or "Shadow" Mail: Your grandfather might have been using János’s position to bypass official mail channels to ensure a letter or package reached its destination without being opened by government censors.

• Legal/Travel Planning: If one relative stayed on the Hungarian side and the other on the Romanian side, meetings at the border were the only way to maintain family ties without the expense and scrutiny of formal travel visas.

Pista (your grandfather) was the one setting the terms, and János was the one with the official "insider" status at the post office. It's a classic example of family members working together to navigate the complicated geopolitics of the era!

*********

I am a history major, pretty well-informed as far as border changes in Europe following World War I but I never made the connection that Satu-Mare, where my great-uncle lived became part of Romania then while across the river Transcarpathia became part of Czechoslovakia. This began to be far more interesting than let's meet for beer at the border. A border that did not exist before the Treaty of Trianon.

My grandfather left Europe in 1920, sailing from Cherbourg on December 20th. We were told he left because there was a conflict with someone. That he may have killed someone while serving as a Gendars or Hungarian State Police Officer. That the family might seek revenge. That was a story none of the cousins we met in Ukraine or Slovakia knew. This telegram and the context Gemini provided suggest there might have been more involved in his decision.

More to follow. It gets better. 

52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks: Stefan Papp, Csendőrs

My grandfather, Stephen Popp or Stefan Papp, was a state policeman, a csendőrs in Hungary before he emigrated to the United States shortly after World War I. He served in the rural area near his home in the Chust district of Máramaros, patrolling on horseback. Today the region is part of the Transcarpathian district of Ukraine.

This photograph is of him in his csendőrs uniform. He is a sergeant, wearing a badge for Patrol Leader and two medals, the Long Service Cross for non-commissioned officers and the commemorative cross for the 60th anniversary of Franz Josef's reign issued in 1908. The bars or strafes on his sleeve indicate eight years of service.

Dating the photograph was a bit of a challenge. Since he had been awarded the commemorative cross it was clearly after 1908. The uniform collar design suggests it was taken before World War I. His soldiers book says he entered military service in 1904. The Gendarmerie were drawn from the military. I am estimating the photograph was taken about 1912 when he would have been about 30 years old.

I believe this is the earliest photograph we have of my grandfather. It corroborates what I have been told by his children about his life in Europe before coming to America. I am curious about the ring he appears to be wearing. He was not married then. I have a ring he left when he died, but don't know if it was the one he was wearing in this photograph. 

I used the wonderful website Austro-Hungarian Land Forces 1848-1918 created by Glenn Jewison and Jörg C. Steiner to find out more about the medals, decorations and uniforms of the Hungarian military and gendarmerie.


Written for Amy Johnson Crow's blogger challenge 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks.

My Carpatho-Rusyn FAN Club ~ Augusto

This is another of the FAN Club photographs belonging to my grandparents Stephen Popp (Stefan Papp) and Anna Pereksta of Binghamton, NY. 

This photograph is of a dear friend of my grandfather's, Charlie Augusto. On the back my aunt wrote "Charles Augusto - Dad's kryan  Cumberland, Kentucky." Kryan or krajan means countryman. Augusto and my grandfather, Stephen Popp (Stefan Papp) both came to the United States from Berezovo in the Maramoros district of Hungary. Today it is in the Ukraine.

My father vividly remembers a visit Augusto made to Binghamton, NY when he was a boy. The visit took place sometime during the mid to late 1930s. It was an evening or week-end when my grandfather was at home. There was a knock on the door and Augusto and Ivan (John) Tegze walked in the house. My grandfather and Augusto embraced fiercely and my father saw his father cry for the first time in his life. The men would not have seen each other since Augusto's last visit home to Berezovo, most likely before WWI.

Charlie (or Wasily) Augusto was born about 1882. He appears to have gone back and forth between Berezovo and the United States. He gives his arrival date as 1908 in the 1930 census; 1892 in the 1920 census. There are multiple immigration records that may belong to him. He was a miner in Pennsylvania and Illinois before settling in a Kentucky mining community where he ran a grocery store. He is listed with 8 children in 1930 census so this photograph showing nine children was likely taken several years later. His surname appears as Agosto, Agoszto, Augusto, August and Augusta in various records.

I believe Augusto was related to Ivan Tegze, perhaps his brother-in-law.

There are handwritten ink numbers associated with the children, but I have no information regarding the meaning of the numbers.

I would be delighted to share high resolution scans of these images and source information with anyone researching these families. Please leave a comment or email me (there is a link in the righthand column).

Berezovo, 1992 - Wordless Wednesday

Recess in front of the church, taken in Berezovo, Zakarpats'ka oblast, Ukraine ; September 1992.

Maria Tegze Balabancuk - (Almost) Wordless Wednesday

My great-grandmother Maria or Marika Tegze Balabancuk was born in 1857 in Berezna, Máramaros, Hungary. She married Ivan Papp before 1873. She died 6 July 1920 in Berezova, Czechoslovakia. When I was growing up the village she was born, married and died in was Berezovo, Ukraine, USSR. Today it is Berezovo, Zakarpats’ka oblast’, Ukraine or to be completely accurate Березово, Закарпатська область, Україна.

Reconnecting Across the Years

My great-uncle Mikula Papp and his family in 1932. The portrait was taken in Chust, in what is now the Ukraine. The man sitting on the right may be another great-uncle, Ivan Papp, but I am not sure. 

Mikula was the youngest of Ivan and Maria Tegze Papp's surviving children (the one who had no shoes). He and my grandfather Stefan corresponded for many years but after Stefan died in 1948 contact with the family was lost. When we went to Europe after the Berlin Wall fell we were reunited with my grandfather's family. My father and aunt met several first cousins, including Mikula's two surviving children.

His daughter, Maria, and two of her sons were still living in the Ukraine. They were an amazing family - welcoming us with open arms with only a day or two's notice. We asked there, as we asked everyone we visited, if they had pictures we could see. His daughter pulled a photo album from the shelf and showed us an entire album of empty pages. Only old fashioned small white corners outlined where the photographs had been.

Mikula had been arrested by Stalin's men one day after World War II and sent away. He was gone for many years, but did survive and return home. The family's photographs were destroyed (it wasn't clear to me whether the men who took Uncle Mikula destroyed them or the family themselves, out of fear) but forty years later they still had the album. Despite the scars Maria and her family lived and continue to live full and successful lives. One son is a surgeon, another is a dentist and the third, a Moscow-trained classical musician, emigrated to Mexico where he is a concert violinist.

Maria's younger brother, Laszlo, had settled in Budapest and joined us there for dinner. He looked very like his father. Laszlo would have been one of the two younger boys in this picture. He had worked as a bureaucrat in Hungary for many years and was retired when we came. For my father and aunt to meet these first cousins more than seventy years after their father left Europe was a gift we will treasure always.

The rivers run ...

With a blog named for the Nolichucky River, this year’s Blog Action Day! theme of water is a natural. As are rivers. Rivers move. They rage, flood, flow, wash and meander. They define our migration, our settlements. They are our boundaries, our highways. We sing of them, write of them, dream of them.

And when I was young, we watched them burn.

Even 20 years after the 1972 Clean Water Act my children, growing up along the Grand River in Michigan, were forbidden to swim in the river and all but disinfected after swimming in Lake Michigan near its mouth. While I still worry about the long-term health effects, today’s Grand is renewed. 

My 'heritage' rivers - the Nolichucky in North Carolina and East Tennessee and the Rika in the Ukraine - are smaller mountain rivers draining into large watersheds. The waters of the Nolichucky flow out of the Smoky Mountains in North Carolina, feeding into the French Broad, the Tennessee, the Ohio and the Mississippi Rivers. The Rika, rising in the Carpathian Mountains, flows south to the Tysa (Tysza) and eventually drains into the Danube north of Belgrade.  

Relatively remote and with limited human populations nearby, they have not been polluted to the extent the downstream rivers have been. Still, there are threats to each from runoff waters. 

Siltation, or the sediment from soil erosion, is the greatest threat. The resulting cloudiness in the water reduces the light available to the river ecosystem, damages water filtration systems used for power generation and drinking water, and can even inhibit recreational uses. Logging in the Smoky Mountains during 19th and early 20th centuries dramatically increased erosion and runoff. Commercial development is the largest contributing factor today to siltation in the Nolichucky. Logging and desperately needed development in the Carpathian Mountains compete with the environmental threats to the Rika, though the Ukraine and six other governments have signed an agreement to promote sustainable development in the mountains. 

Increased levels of E. coli and contaminants from fertilizers and pesticides also threaten the rivers. 

I was pleased when I investigated the current state of the Nolichucky River to find it being monitored and improving in quality. Farmers and developers are being encouraged to limit livestock access to the river and to install drainage systems to reduce stormwater runoff. These actions resulted in improved water quality in the three sections of the river being monitored for poor quality. One section was so improved it was removed from the list. 

I have not been able to investigate the water quality of the Rika. Instead, I have watched as red sludge from an industrial site oozes into the Danube and threatens more villages in Hungary. Depressing as that vision is, I hold onto the improvements made here following the Clean Water Act and hope that similar efforts in Central and Eastern Europe will lead to cleaner rivers there.

For further information on

• Efforts to monitor and protect the Nolichucky River see the Middle Nolichucky Watershed Alliance website.
• Logging in the Smoky Mountains see Part III of the outstanding film series Appalachia: A History of Mountains and People. Even better - watch the whole series. 
• Tennessee's Nolichucky watershed management plans see the 2008 report.
• The 2003 agreement to protect and develop the Carpathian Mountain region, see The Carpathian Convention.
• Logging in the Carpathians see "The Contribution of forestry to sustainable development in the Carpathian Mountains" by Anatoliy Deyneka. Presented at the 2009 World Forestry Congress.
• Maps of the Rika, the Tysza River Basin and information about the Danube Watershed see the International Commission for the Protection of the Danube River website.

Photograph from the U.S. National Archives.