Page 5 - Priorities #20 2002-October

What were the years before
the war like?
Just before the war, it was a very good period: prosperity, peace. I was editing medieval missals preserved from the 13th and 14th centuries. I was an ordained priest in 1941. I earned my doctorate in 1942. For my thesis, I published seven manuscript missals. If the war had not come, I would (still) be sitting in a library, continuing intellectual work.
But the war came. Hungary was occupied by the Germans. I was drafted and served as a military chaplain for 15 months in Russia. For my services, I was decorated with the military medal of merit, signum laudis.
From 1944 to ’48, I taught in one of our schools. That was really a happy period in my life in a very nice town, Sopron. But in ’48, the state took over our schools. I was harassed several times by the Communists. So I escaped.
Somehow God wanted me to come to California.
What were your early years in the United States like?
I started out in Morriston, New Jersey. I was invited by the abbot to teach theology to young monks.
When I arrived in the United States, my English was minimal, and my students did not know Latin. So I had to prepare in English. But I could not pronounce the words. Once I was speaking about St. Ambrose, that he was so important in Roman law. I said he was a great expert in Roman love. And the students burst out laughing, "Oh, Father."
Even today, everyone always knows who I am from my voice. Some of my students could imitate me so well. One former student called up his brother, and the brother thought I was speaking. He said, "I am coming for dinner. Prepare." And his brother ordered the dinner. He ordered the wine.
On escaping from Hungary:
“It was dangerous. The border was mined. You could be arrested. You could be shot...So I made footsteps and then listened. And then I’d move forward.”
You fled the Communist oppression in Hungary?
I escaped from Hungary in 1948. Nov. 13. Friday night.
That must have been very traumatic, if you still remember the day.
It was dangerous. The border was mined. You could be arrested. You could be shot. It was more dangerous when I reached Austria, because that zone of the country was under Russian occupation, and I did not have any official papers.
In the summer, the guard would sit out under any bush, and if you wanted to escape, you might walk into a trap. In November, it was cold, and the guard had to keep moving. So I made footsteps, and then listened. And then I’d move forward. At midnight, it was dangerous because the moon came up, and I had to cross a big meadow where you could be seen.
What was your family life like earlier?
I come from a family of five children. My father died when I was 7 years old. My three sisters started to dominate me. When I was about 8 or 9, my male ego could not suffer this female domination, and I did not behave. The family decided that the boy needs a man’s school. Luckily, I had a relative, a Benedictine, Fr. Aristid, who took care of my education.
Did Fr. Aristid influence you to become a monk?
He never said in words but with his example. He always pointed out to me how nice it was to be a teacher of young students: the intellectual work and the formation of human souls. He made the life attractive. And he pointed to the married teachers. He said, "Look, they have their problems. They have their families." I thought I could be a better teacher if I could be free of other obligations.
Continued on page 6
54