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Once in Eighty Years

A Chronicle of My Trip to Europe
by Henry Wurth, Jr.
written September, 2006

I always dreamed about traveling to Europe to visit my parents and grandparents home towns or where they were born. From pictures I saw and from conversations with my parents and grandparents, I developed thoughts of how the old homeland looked. I had always hoped that my parents and I could have visited Europe together as a guided tour.

Some Family History

My Grandpa George Wurth was born in Hemsbach, Germany on August 9, 1868. My Grandma, Anna Thron Wurth was born on October 7, 1870. My father was born in Hemsbach, Germany on January 4, 1894.

My mother's parents were born in Austria-Hungary. Grandpa Stephanes Fekete was born in Albertfalva on
November 27,1874. He told me his birthplace was wiped out in a flood. His parents were Francis Fekete and Lydia Tornyi. Grandma Franciska Schinle was born on March 3, 1880. Her parents were Francis Schinle and Theresa Haupt .

My mother's father came to America about 1902 and began work as an iron worker in Bradock, Penn.

About 1904, my mother's mother came to America to be with her husband. One daughter, Anna,
born on May 24, 1902, came with her. Two other children born to them, who died, were left in Resita. They were a son, Stephanes, born on May 24, 1899 and a daughter, Maria born on December 15,1900. My mother, Rose, was born in Bradock, Penn. on September 14,1904.

My father arrived in America in 1913.

My Career

I was in the Army Air Forces during a portion of the second world war. When the war ended, the Air Force asked me to stay two more years to become part of the Army of Occupation in Europe. I was only 20 and 1/2 years old and I wanted to go home. I had 4 years of college coming to me free. I made a good decision because occupation duty for more than two years after the war ended was as dangerous as serving in Iraq is now .

So I launched myself into learning a business to live on. With some experience building cabins at my parents Schroon River Boys Camp, I got a pretty good start. I spent a couple of years working with Uncle Herman Setzer who was a carpenter, cabinet maker, pattern maker. Then I went to work for some other builders for a few years before I began working for myself about 1963. I was very busy all through the years up to 2005 and I accomplished many projects during that time. On July 18 , 2005, I sold Cottage Row Apartments. That sale broke the old busy time.

The Dream

It was then that I began to believe my life time dream of going to Europe was going to happen. I applied for my passport but my birth certificate was not acceptable. I went to City Hall and for ten dollars I looked their records, found my original birth certificate, got a certified copy. The new certificate was more complete than the one I had all my life. One notation on the new certified copy indicated that I was legitimate. That little notation took a big worry, which I carried for the past nearly 80 years, off my mind . My passport was issued and I went to the travel agent and got my plane tickets.

The Flight to Europe

On October 6, 2005, at about 6 P.M., I boarded a plane in Albany to Philadelphia. From Philadelphia I flew 8 hrs. and 15 minutes to Munich, Germany: flying along the Jersey Coast, out over Newfoundland, past Greenland, over Ireland, England and Holland into Germany at Frankfort, and then on to Munich, arriving there at 10:35 A.M.

From Munich, I flew to Timisoara, Romania, about a two hour flight for about two hours. This portion of the flight was with a Romanian Airline named Carpetair. With each seat were the usual equipment for emergencies. On the flight, I learned how to spell Barf-Bag in four different languages by reading the bag printing.

Resita

I stay overnight in Timisoara.  In the morning,  I took a Cab to Resita about 40 miles South which was my destination for the next week. Mark made me a reservation at the Semenic Hotel in Resita. This hotel is right on the big city square.  I was on the fifth floor with a beautiful view of the square

A Personal Guide

When I began visiting different records buildings for information about our relatives, the clerk in the office could not speak English, only Latin.  He held up his hand to and pointed to the clock for me to wait 15 minutes.  Soon a young man who spoke English came in. He was a 2002 graduate of a University as an attorney.  He offered to escort me and interpret for me all that week.  He had a car.   I bought the gas and paid him for his time.

As we moved about in the city over the week, he told me that he and his fiancé want to come to the U.S. to work and study. Both of them are lawyers, but I guess they can't get Visas unless they have work to come to.  At this time, I am passing on to GE, Siemans, national law firms, etc. their particulars hoping for a connection for they both speak English, French, German, Italian and their Latin.

The Steel Mill

The steel mill in Resita where my Grandpa worked  before leaving for Pittsburgh around 1904 is owned by the Soviets. They are producing only one product:  steel drilling pipe.  About 200 miles from Resita,  in the Dneiper River Valley in Russia,  the Soviets are drilling wells up to nine miles deep.

 To get back to my stay in Resita. The Romans were the first to mine iron ore here.  From 1761 until 1991, the steel mills of the city produced steam locomotives and related equipment.  Resita was a part of Hungary before World War I.  After that war,  part of Hungary was given to Romania.  After World War II, the Soviets occupied the area until 1991.  Many parts of the steel mill are rusting away which is a shame.  

The steel mill here is unique in that it is close to the mine--just around a mountain, less then a half mile away. Upon the hill,  beside the mill,  is the mill workers housing. I didn't know the address of my grandparents, only of Grandma's sister's,  who never left Resita.  At that address,  there was no one by that name when I was there.

Cemeteries

The saddest part of trying to find people is the cemeteries.  All over Europe, even in Germany,  they have been recycling graves for a long time. There are no graves older than 1979.  In Germany,  you buy a plot for 30 years. In 30 years,  they take away the stone and sell to someone else. They prepare for the next purchaser by digging the grave to its full depth and burying someone else in it.

I watched one digging session. I stood by the pile of soil as it was dug up. First, I had an arm bone in my hand. When I looked again, to my surprised, I saw a half of a skull, which I picked up and examined . The same soil dug out is put back in the same hole.

For this reason, I was not able to visit any of my grandparent's graves either in Hemsbach or Resita. In Resita, there was Great Grandpa and Grandma Fekete, Great Grandma and Great Grandpa Schinle, my mother's brother, Stephane and sister, Maria who would have been my uncle and aunt.

Orphans in Romania

After I was in Resita two days, I met an American family from Seattle down at the desk at the hotel. The parents had come to pick up their daughter. After graduating from college, she spent two years here teaching at one of Romania's foundling homes for discarded children. Several American people are involved and working hard to save these children. I met one American and one Romanian. The American was heading the mission and the Romanian came from the capital that day.

The day the daughter and her parents left to go back to Seattle, the daughter invited the class she was teaching to a brunch at the hotel. I happened to be there for breakfast. There were about 15 children, around  the same age as Rachel, and they looked great. I just read in the paper last week that Romania only had about 900 more orphans left to help. Other countries have thousands.

On to Germany

The day I left Resita, October 13, 2005, Mike and Anca, my guides drove me the 40 miles to the Timisora Airport. The flight to Munich was short but beautiful. We traveled over Hungary, Austria and part of Yugoslavia with a beautiful view of the Alps in several countries. I did not have much time between flights at Munich to catch my flight to Frankfort. When you fly into Munich, your cell phone rings welcoming you to Munich. At Frankfort,  I hired a taxi to bring me 73 miles to the hotel Mark had made arrangements for me in Hemsbach.

Hemsbach

I spent the entire week in Hemsbach. Weinheim was 3 miles away and Heidelberg was 7 miles away.  At that time of year, almost all hotels are booked up.  In Hemsbach, all young people speak English. If all Germany is like Hemsbach then it is a clean neat country.

The newer homes in Hemsbach are built two or three stories high.  The owner lives on one floor and tenants live on the other two floors. All construction appears to be concrete. Wood trim is used sparingly. Doors are not fitted into the openings but are lapped over three sides. A special hinge which I never saw before is used.  I could not find a hardware store to buy a pair.

Cars are mostly small and light in weight in Germany and Romania. Gas is $1.25 / lt. 

Electricity must be expensive, also.  In hotels,  hall lights are on motion detectors.  Lights in hotel rooms have timers for  1,2 or 3 minutes.

Finding the Wurths

In Hemsbach,  I spent much time in the cemetery checking every stone, but there was no old stones older than 1970. While there one morning,  I talked a lady who could understand me. She said if you want know about the Wurths,  I will bring you to the Wurth Family.  She gave me a ride to a house not far from the cemetery.  She spoke to a lady who was surprised to hear that my name was Wurth. They asked me into their home and told me their names were Sonja and Paul Kretzler.  Paul explained to me through his 15 year old grandson that my Grandpa Wurth and his Grandpa Wurth were brothers.  His Grandpa was Heinrich Wurth.  My Grandpa was George Wurth.

The next day,  they invited me to dinner at one o'clock PM.  Then four days in a row,  they invited me to dinner at one o'clock PM.  Sonja is an excellent cook.  I wish you could taste her potato dumplings. At one meal one day,  the meat was like bacon but sliced a half inch thick. Half of it was pure fat. I cut the fat away and put it on the edge of my plate. When I finished eating Paul took all the fat I left on my plate and ate it.

About my Wurth Grandparents

My Grandpa,  George Wurth was not very old when he died about 1904.  I once heard that there was some kind of sickness which killed many persons about that time. My father, Henry was only ten years old when his father died. A few years later Grandma Wurth remarried.  In 1911, she had another child.  At that time, she died in child birth.

My Father Immigrates to the United States

Two years later, in 1913, Grandpa George's  sister,  Katherina Kitzer took my father Henry to the U.S. with her and her husband. My dad was 19 years old then. He found work in New York City for a few years and became a member of one of the Turnvereins in the area.

His Career as a Physical Education Instructor

In 1918,  the Turnverein sent him to Indianapolis to study for one year at the Indiana University Normal School to be a physical education instructor. Because of the first world war at that time, he was the only male student in class. When he completed his studies that year,  he was sent to Schenectady, New York to become the instructor at the Turnverein there, where he worked for 42 years until retiring.

His only one year of college never qualified him to be hired to teach in the public school systems. However,  he became known to the New York State Education Department because of his work at the Turnverein. The State hired him to teach teachers at summer school at Cortland State Teachers College and Cornell University every summer from 1920--1838.

Instructing physical education teachers in the summer time at Cortland and Cornell was quite a problem  because most of them were "Macho" football or basketball coaches and not much else. But to complete their courses he had to give them all parts of the course, including ballet dancing and etc. For Dad, it was disgusting teaching those subjects so they could pass the course. He told me he laid on the athletic field a nine hole golf course which he would let the students play every day as soon as they mastered the days instructions.

So much about a little guy from Hemsbach, but a big guy in his trade.

Family Houses in Hemsbach

In Hemsbach, I stayed at the Watzenhof Inn about 2 miles out of town. The pictures I took of that hotel will tell you more about it than I can describe.  Because of the excellent weather,  I was not at the hotel from 8-6 in the daytime. Every day I took a taxi into town.  The old section of Hemsbach was not very large.  I could walk around all day.

I located a house I thought was the old Wurth Home and Inn. I took lots of pictures and went back several times. However,  when I came home and showed the pictures to my cousin, Henry Thron, who had visited Hemsbach with his parents about 35 years ago,  Henry told me that was not the Wurth Home. Henry has a small picture of the home, which I will copy and send to my new found cousin Paul. His 15 year old grandson owns a motor bike which he is allowed to ride town wide. I will ask him to cruise the old section to find the home, take some pictures and send them to me. I will pay him for his work.

I was able to locate the Thron House after Henry gave me the address. The Thron house may be where Grandma Wurth (Anna Thron) was born. She was the one who died in child birth in 1911.  The old section of Hemsbach is kept in very good condition as you will see when you see the pictures.

Time To Go Home

My time in Hemsbach came to a close on October 20, 2005 at  7 A M when a taxi picked me up at the hotel and brought me to the Frankfort Airport about 73 miles away.  The taxi was a Mercedes. The driver was a retired heating contractor using his own car. Everyone speeds on the Autobahn. The speedometer was at 140 km. nearly all the way.

I made the plane from Frankfort, but I was seated in center section which was not a comfortable seat to spend 8 hours and 40 minutes.   I was happy to land in Philly, but I had to go through security again and declare anything of value I was bringing in.  My knew bag was opened before I left Philly because I found a note indicating such when I opened my bag in Timisoara.

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