Jozef Cingel'

    

    Born 18. 1. 1894, died (about) 1975, no grave - his ashes have been thrown into the wind by his daughter Pavla.
    Wife ??? nee ???, Children Maria, Stepan, Rudolf, Ludmila (a.k.a. Milena) and Pavla.

    He was the father of my wife's mother. He is shown above with daughter Pavla.
    Next pictures were taken about two years before he died:

    Medium height, normal built.
    I met him only once when I came in 1967 to his flat in Banská Bystrica to collect Mireille & George (less than one year old then) who were staying there for a few days. A pleasant person. I also met his wife there, a very much arthritis stricken old woman. He used to feed her one or two types of food (bryndzové halusky), anything else she could not hold in her stomach, and she died shortly after our visit. He was very fond of his first great-grandchild George, and from Australia we exchanged several letters with him. His letters were very warm and cordial, quite talkative and were written with complete disregard for grammar, punctuation or spelling (an example: the ywe re writ ten a ppr oxi matelyli ket his….). One of them is shown here, written after 1971:

In the letter he sends greetings to "Charlie, Mireille, Georgie, Johnny & Julia", informs that they moved to a new address in Karlovy Vary, & at the end apologizes for any spelling errors. From what I gather from Mireille, they lived in Kynžvart (near Karlovy Vary) where he used to ring the bell in the nearby church, and they also spent some time abroad (Belgium?) before the second world war.

In 2004 and 2008 I visited his daughter Milena in Cheb, who lived in a flat with her husband Jaroslav Slabý (died April 2006), and her brother Štefan (died March 2006). Her son from the first marriage, Vojtech Lískovec, worked as a veterinary surgeon in Karlovy Vary. With George we also visited his son Rudolf in Banská Bystrica. Jozef's daughter Mária (Mireille’s mother), refused to see us at the time. His daughter Pavlína wrote several letters to us in Australia, exhorting us to turn our face to God, for she was deeply religious and also sent to us a Bible in Czech language. Her son Pavel was killed in a car accident, she died a few years later. His sons Rudolf and Štefan both died unmarried and childless.

    Jozef Cingel’s wife, whom I met only once in Banská Bystrica, was a small slim woman about 75 years old at the time (1967), gnarled from severe arthritis, with "birds' claws" gnarled palms and fingers. Shown below she is the "maminka", as Milena exclaimed when she saw the picture for the first time. Also, she is shown here with her children (Milena, Štefan, Rudolf - Pavla & Maria are missing):

Despite having only minimal formal education he managed to organize good education for his children: Štefan finished a university and worked all his life as an earth engineer; Rudolf worked as a foreman in a factory in Banska Bystrica; Milena finished a university and worked as an engineer on industrial projects; about Pavla I am not sure; for Maria, Mireille's mother, see separate page.

Of the siblings only Milena Slaba (her full Christian name is Ludmila) is still alive (2022), she is 92 years old and lives in a house in Karlovy Vary, Josefa Lady ul.) with her cat and dog. Her son from her first marriage Vojtech Liskovec used to be a district veterinarian in Karlovy Vary until his retirement in 2019 (?). His wife Sylvia has died a few years before that. I visited them there a couple of times, and we are still in occasional contact.

Marie Hatvaniová

Marie Hatvaniová neè Havelková
Born 1912 in the district called Zichpil of Humpolec, Austria, died 3. 3. 1985 in Prague, grave in Humpolec (desecrated & demolished in about 2016).
Husband František
Children Karol and Hana.

     

She was my mother. I just unearthed a single picture of her, sitting in her kitchen at Racišdorfská ulica 794 sometime in 1955:

Below she is shown during break while working for about 3 weeks in the school canteen in Bratislava-Krasnany. She was briefly famous there as the one from the "cauliflower war", for she started throwing the noble vegetables at her co-worker (& our neighbour at that) Mrs. Halenárová, during some dispute about the correct way if dissecting the said vegetables):

    A medium height fat person with brownish hair. Her face vaguely resembled that of her father's (Josef Havelka). From her mid-thirties she suffered from a variety of ailments associated with obesity - high blood pressure, heart palpitations, enlarged thyroid gland, later diabetes, cerebral haemorrhage in 1984, and eventually died of heart failure while in hospital for tests.

    Born in Humpolec she moved to Bratislava with her parents in 1921/22. Because of her father’s almost continuous absence from 1914 up to 1920 she lived with her grandparents (Adolf Havelka and wife Anna), together with her siblings. Finished secondary schooling in Bratislava and (probably) worked briefly as a clerk till married to my father in 1935. I do not think she ever worked after that, except for a few days here and there helping in the school cafeteria and such.

Despite having lived in Slovakia since she was 10, she never learned the local language and spoke with a mixture of tongues: Czech laced with Slovakian in Bratislava, Slovakian laced with Czech in Humpolec. Always fond of returning to Humpolec, we spent every summer school holidays there (July & August), until I was about 14 or 15 and chose to stay with my grandparents in Bratislava.
In Humpolec she did not socialise with anybody, to my knowledge, except with the relatives. With her mother she had a bit of a turbulent relationship and the two were often not on speaking terms. On a few occasions my parents would rent a house or a flat in Humpolec, instead of living, as was heretofore customary, with her mother in her spacious house. On those occasions I was told not to speak to "the old witch", which I ignored for of the 'bába' I was rather fond.

    I never liked my mother's sharp tongue much - she had a hurting way with words (fairly common trait with speakers of the Czech very rich and flexible language) and was usually able to say something unpleasant or sarcastic about almost anybody or anything. Except for the earliest childhood, I always wanted to be away from her. I do not remember how it happened, but since I was about 7 years old, I have lived with my paternal grandparents at Racianska Street a few kilometres away from my parent's flat (which was next to S.K. Bratislava Club stadium).

    I liked, however, to come "home" to my parents’ flat on occasions, for I liked some of her cooking: buchty, takarty, makové slíze, coffee, knedloveprozelo... But I was equally glad when, after the meal, I could disappear home again to my grandparents house some 5 km away...

She had no interests except for solving crosswords puzzles with a cup of coffee on the side. I do not recall her reading of any particular book, and of her husband’s fondness of literature she had a fairly low opinion. Like many women I know she was obsessed with cleanliness, often seen wielding a broom, mop or a wet rag, while loudly admonishing "all those dirty people" who happened to be within her voice range.

In Bratislava she had a few Czech acquaintances with whom she would meet in the street for a long talk. Despite having lived in Bratislava from the age of 10 she did not like the Slovakians (or the Hungarians, or Germans, of whom there were many in Bratislava at the time). While going to Humpolec (about 400 km away) at least once a year for a few months, we have never been to Sala nad Váhom (70 km away) to see the relatives from my father's side (this, however, could have been my father's fault, too: we could if he wanted to...).

    She had no ear for music, and she did not like my father's attempts at playing the violin; her sharp tongue had no problems with stopping him.

    She had a way of starting endless arguments with anybody about anything, and that was one of the main reasons why I wanted to be away from her.

    I remember her being with her sister Otka and her daughter Krasava in Humpolec, as well as visiting her brother Gustav there, but I have no recollections concerning details of their relationship. With the Škrába and Štepek family in Humpolec she had quite a good and, I guess, cordial relations.















     

Here she is shown as about 15-years old (on the right), with her sister Otka (Otylie) on the left. The girl in the middle I was not able to identify.

She was fond of writing letters to various members of our family. A sample of her handwriting is shown below. She writes from Prague to us in Australia about preparation for their annual holiday to the Humpolec, the place of her birth, about the flat they live in Prague which is located close to the flat where her daughter Hanka lives, about her husband's habit of watching sports on the TV, about her lack o balance which causes her to fall, etc.

František Karol Hatvani

    František Karol Hatvani

    Born 1911 in Bratislava (then called Pozsony, the country itself was called Hungary, part of Austro-Hungarian Empire), died in Prague January 1996, grave in Humpolec (the grave was desecrated and demolished in about 2016).

    My father. A slim, about 185cm tall man, with prominent nose, dark brown receding hair, short-sighted and always wearing glasses. Like his sisters he had no facial or physical similarity to his parents. A quiet and mild-mannered man.

    Wife Marie née Havelková, children Karol and Hana.

    In this picture he is about 20 years old:

On the next picture is him in his heyday as Taxation Office clerk in about 1940, walking in Bratislava on Americké Námestie:

Next picture is taken in his office at Bratislava, štefánikova 4, Taxation Department. He is third from left, in white shirt. Note: picture taken on September 16, 1936. I was born 16 days earlier: 

In the picture below, taken in about 1950, he is with (l-r) his mother Julia, his wife Marie, sister Ruženka, and the child is my sister Hanka, with the air gun he bought for me (and himself). The hill in the background is called Chlmec: 

    

   

After finishing secondary education, he was conscripted into the army for two years (mostly in Turnov). Afterwards unemployed for a few years. On my birth certificate (1936) his employment was registered as 'taxation auxiliary clerk'. After the communists in 1948 declared that the clerks were 'anti-social elements' he was forced to work as a labourer in a nearby chemical factory, after a year or two he was banished from the capital of Bratislava, where we lived, to Komárno where he worked at a railway station as a clerk. In the early 19-fifties, through some friends, he managed to get a job back in Bratislava as a proof-reader in the trade union publishing house. Remained with the same House (called Práca) in various capacities, ending as an editor of trade union publications. After I with my family escaped from the "socialism" into the capitalist Austria he lost his permanent job, but he was allowed to work for the House on a contract basis for many years even long after his official retirement.

    Before the second world war he translated a few cheap paperback novels (called Ro-Do-Kaps) from Hungarian to Slovakian or Czech languages. Able to play violin a little, but because of the caustic opposition from his wife he seldom touched it.

    An ardent watcher of soccer matches he spent many a Saturday supporting the local club, š. K. Bratislava. Took me along a few times but to his disappointment I have never been interested in being a fan. He supported my mild interest in track and field, enrolled me in a couple of local clubs and was disappointed when I did not show much enthusiasm for these organised activities; likewise with the Scouts and Sokol movements. On a few occasions we travelled together to various places: on a steamboat on the river Danube to Hrušov, some 10km downstream; to Prague to inspect some old buildings he was writing about for some newspaper; to Devin castle near Bratislava. For my 11th birthday he brought me a present, a German army bicycle Wanderer! That was my most precious present to date, and I had it for some 10 years. I sold it to an old Austrian man who (probably) liked its German wartime provenance.

I am not sure whether he claimed to be a Slovakian or a Hungarian. His parents were ethnic Hungarians, they spoke the language with their children whenever they felt like it. He had plenty of hungarian books in his bookshelf, encyclopedias (Tolnai and Révai), various books, he used to bring home newspaper and magazines (Ujszo, Elet es tudomány); as well, he used to subscribe to the Czech publications of word books (PEN Klub, ELK = European Literary Club). His wife was regarding these "foibles" rather dimly, she did not like books of any kind. I guess he was expecting me to become interested... 

    I cannot explain why but we did not get along very well. He was a good man, he meant well for me, I liked him, and we even had many things in common, such as book reading - similar authors even -, love of Czech culture, interest in history... We were just unable to communicate he always called me boy (hochu), or student; I don't remember calling him father, or something similar, except in my early childhood. It probably did not help that since I was about 7, I lived with my paternal grandparents. And, to my eternal shame, I remember clearly not looking forward to my parents' occasional visits...

    He helped me on quite a few occasions when I was in distress, be it at school, or at work, never working openly but manipulating in the background. I hardly knew about it at the time and learned only years later. I don’t think I ever thanked him for it, and it causes me distress even now, decades later…
His relationship with my sister, Hanka, was a bit warmer, but I do not know to what extent.

    He loved his wife very much (called her Máňa, or Mánička; I do not remember what she used to call him, maybe Karel) and behaved towards her with a great deal of respect, almost diffidence, which did not always endear him to the rest of the family because of her somewhat prickly and forever critical nature. She, in return, complained loudly to anybody who cared to listen about his dirty socks and underwear, smelly toilet visits, his strange friends (in her eyes), his clumsiness in "her" kitchen, his "crazy" love of books, etc.; she seemed to revel in his and the listeners' embarrassment. This last paragraph was possibly the reason for the distance I was trying to keep between myself and him - his apparent inability to rein his wife's embarrassing behaviour in.

    Socially he was a shy man. He had a few friends (his wife hated them all), mainly from his work, who on occasions would come and visit us, or come to a winery with us... He was a fond follower of the old Bratislava custom of visiting wine cellars on weekends - another habit, along with soccer watching, that we disagreed on. I saw him drunk on perhaps a dozen of occasions. Once he rolled down a steep flight of stairs at home and suffered a few bruises about his head. He did not like talking to neighbours to the extent of trying to walk on the opposite side of the road from them. When it could not be avoided, well, he would say his hellos, make some small talk and escape with some hasty excuses.

    He liked his parents and sisters, and they liked him. He was on very good terms with his in-laws. He did not like noisy people, or busybodies, and probably shied away from them because, being polite, he did not know how to deal with them in a polite manner.

    He lived the last few years of his life with my sister Hanka in Praha-Michle. I had the pleasure of spending one week with him in their flat in January 1995, where we talked about everything (mostly about places and things, but he avoided talking about relatives) and shook hands for the last time on very good terms. I regret not kissing him on both cheeks and not thanking him for life, love and for all the help. I asked him to use a tape recorder to record whatever he remembered of our relatives but, as Hanka reported after he died, it did not happen.

    In this picture, taken in 1935, he is standing on the left next to his wife Marie. Standing on the right is Robert Nedvĕd with his wife Otylie (Marie's sister). In the middle are their friends Kálmán Ligacs (a cousin, once removed) and Juci (Marie's school friend).

A sample of his handwriting is shown below. In it he is mentioning our children - his grandchildren: he is enquiring about George's poor performance at school, asking him and John to write a few words to him, and also asking Mireille to write a little about our food.

    Next is my last picture of him taken by myself in December 1994 in his daughter's flat at Praha-Michle. The watch on his wrist was Swiss-made Movado, which I envied him a lot as a child:

    He died in January 1996, after developing some stomach pain during an episode of 'flu; taken to a nearby hospital in the evening he said to (his daughter) Hanka and her husband 'all right, go home, it's getting late', and died an hour later, aged 84 years and seven months (his father died aged 84 years and nine months).

'Odišiel do modrých diaľav', as he was fond of saying ("he walked away into the blue yonder.").

Júlia Hatvaniová

Júlia Hatvaniová nèe Juliánna Maczki

    Juliánna was born 17. 5. 1881 in Tardoskedd (Tvrdošovce), died ?. 12. 1955, grave in Bratislava-Rača. The grave in Rača has been desecrated and destroyed in (about) 2016.

Father János Maczki (a station master at Tardoskedd), mother Rozália nee Kmotriková. Their other children were Franciscus (b. 1861), Elisabetha (1864), Rosalia (1873) & Katalin (26. 12. 1877). 2 older brothers died earlier while the family was living at Tornal'a, according to Ružen.

    Husband Karol Hatvani.
    Children Štefan (1907-1933), František (1911-1996) = my father (a.k.a. Karol), Helena (1908-1992) and Rozália (1920-2010) (a.k.a. Ružen).

This is her at the age of (about) 35:

And this is her at the age of (about) 70:

This is her with myself, next to her house at Račianska No. 794, in 1951:

The window above them is the toilet, the window at the bottom is the cellar. 

And below, in the garden, with her husband, daughter-in-law, children and grandchildren:

Here she is in the garden of her railway house at Dynamitka, with her son František, and bottom, with our neighbour Mrs. Halenárová.

    A slim, medium height, with brownish hair, with some grey in it, brownish complexion, with a kind, almost plaintive voice. She suffered from frequent bleeding from her nose and in her sixties she was suffering from some sort of back injury and walked with a slight bent to one side. For relief for many years she used a pain killer called Togal (aspirin+lithium+quinine), which probably caused bowel cancer of which she died after having suffered for about a year.
    Her grandfather (or great-grandfather) was a sculptor working in Hungary under the nom-de-plume of Kő (a rock, in hungarian).

    She lived the first about 12 years of her life in Tardoskedd where her father was stationmaster at a small railway station near the town. The Family moved to Šal'a nad Vahom. The sisters, including Julia, lived for 8 years at the catholic school in Tardoskedd; she spoke fondly of the time spent there, as well as of the nuns who ran the joint. A sample of her handwriting:

It is undated, the year is probably 1936. In it Julia writes to her daughter-in-law Marie (my mother) "Dear Mary, would you be so kind as to buy for us a 1kg of meat before you go, we need it for Sunday, buy even 5kg, if possible, and also sugar, we are not sure when it is going to be available with regards to the misery, greetings to all including the grandmother (Marie's mother), good bye, I'll pay you straight away, grandma from dinamitka".
The writing is rather untidy with a number of spelling errors. The words are also joined together, probably merely following her train of thought.
    Housebound all her life, except for a stint as a maid at the house of Eszterházy in Galanta before marriage (in 2007 I walked in the park of the Eszterházy castle, a badly run-down affair at the time). She spoke Hungarian and Slovakian fluently and understood and read Czech as well. According to Ruzen the noblewoman owner of the castle offered to take Julia with her to Italy, which Julia knocked back, to her regrets afterwards. As the youngest of all the sisters she received no dowry of any kind, the father having run out of money, and she married down, as the family lore had it (her husband having married up, of course)...
    As a daughter - and later wife - of a railwayman she was able to do all jobs associated with that sort of life, from cultivating the vegie gardens to milking cows, killing and dressing the poultry, cooking, preparing food preserves for winter, sewing, etc. She was well regarded by everybody, she was on good terms with everybody I knew, relatives and neighbours alike. My mother, Marie, had some unkind words to and about her; on occasions, her husband, Karol, uttered a muted swearword in her direction as well, now and then, the word "kubina" was his favourite, the word having association with the name of Kubo, meaning "a simpleton". His main complaint about her was concerning household management. One such complaint I remember well!

    She (Julia) would tell him that their favourite cow is ceasing to produce milk. Karol would decide that it is about time to sell the cow and procure a new one. Her typical reaction would be the lament "Jesus Christ and Sweet Virgin Mary, such a good cow it is, so used she is to me and me to her, she never hits me with her shitty tail in the face, Jesus Christ, etc..." Karol would say "So you don't want me to get rid of her?" "Jesus Christ, don't be so cruel to me and to her, Sweet Virgin Mary, she is such a good girl..." His complaint was to the effect that if he takes the good girl to the market, he would end up being a cruel man to both, the cow and Julia; if he doesn't, he would be labelled as the one who does not care about the family's supply of milk (the kind of a dilemma familiar to all married men).
    According to her daughter Ružen her parents (or grandparents?) were a minor hungarian nobility (zeman in Slovakian, yeoman in English), impoverished through (probably) fondness of a drink and a flutter, with the name also spelled as Maczkovszky (suggestive of a Polish or a Macedonian origin). Her father had 2 sons (István, a steam railway engine driver, and János who both died early and without children); also 4 daughters, 3 of whom married well with remnants of the family riches as dowries, the youngest, my grandmother, having received nothing or very little.
    The surname of Maczki existed in the Hungarian town of Heves, and they were related to her, according to Ružen.
    Relatives from Šala nad Váhom came on occasions to see her (Szőke kereszt mama, also a woman called Szepbőze, and her son, about my age, called Pistike).

    I regarded this grandmother of mine to be the best and kindest person in the entire Universe, despite of us having many differences of opinion, and arguing them fiercely. She used to play various table games with me, mlyncek, clobrdo, cervenábere, and such.

    When about 60 years old she suffered from a bout of rubeola. She spent a few days in bed, her face was very red, our family doctor (Dr. Gaal) came to see her a few times. When recovered she did not have any after-effects, I think.
    Her mother was called Rozália Maczki (nee Kmotriková) and died about 92 years old the same year as Rozanenna Viczenová/Pištáková (see Karol Hatvani entry); she had seven children most of whom died before herself. She had a book of prayers where she used to write various data concerning family members, such as dates of birth, death, etc. When she died (1. 3. 1936) this book was put in her coffin (with respect - damn the fool who did it!). This is the picture of her taken at the railway house in Bratislava-Dynamitová továrna. According to Ružen, she was well liked by everybody, except for (Ružen's sister) Helen.

Written in 1990, updated several times, last in 2021, by Charles Karol Hatvani.

KAROL HATVANI

    Karol Hatvani, my father's father

    (in his earlier years also used spelling of Károly Hatvany and Hatvanyi).

    Born 15. 10. 1879 in Šaľa nad Váhom, died July, 1963 in Bratislava, grave in Bratislava-Rača (the grave was desecrated and demolished in about 2016). Father Franciscus Hatvanyi (1849-16. 4.1884), mother Rosalia Oláhová (born 4. 9. 1854, nickname Pištáková, her parents were Stephanus Olah, 1822-1879, and Anna Ferenczei, 1831-??). Siblings (by Franciscus Hatvani): Theresia, born 12. 10. 1876, and Joannes (János), born 21. 5. 1882. 

When widowed, Rosalia married František Viczena (or Vicena) and thus Karol had one stepbrother and one stepsister, František and Júlia, who lived in Kotešová (near Zilina).  Pictured below is his stepbrother František with his wife (?):

The stepbrother had two sons, František and Ján, shown below on a 'photo taken (about) 1915:

Text on the obverse starts with the words "Dear little brother, etc."

Note: during my last visit at my sister's place in Prague, I mentioned that my sister's 2nd husband was born and lived in the same village. While his mother was still alive at the time, could they please ask her if she knew this František Viczena. Both, my sister and her husband, despite traveling to Kotesova frequently, refused point-blank to ask "such frivolous question"!

     

Wife Júlia née Maczki, they were married in Šaľa n. V. on 18th of September 1905.

    Children Štefan, František (also used Karol), Helena (Helen) and Rozália (Ružen).

    This is him at the age of (about) 50:

    And this is him at the age of (about) 75 (I don't remember seeing one grey hair on him!):

    I managed to find baptismal records with his name (Carolus, with Latin being the official language at the time. The occupation "inquil" means "a renter", or "casual worker)):

    Also, I managed to trace his father, Franciscus, to a Hungarian town of Kiskunfélegyháza (not verified as yet!). The same Franciscus Hatvani, with his wife Rosalia Oláh, had two more children in Šaľa nad Váhom: Theresia, born 12. 10. 1876, and Joannes (János?), born 21. 5. 1882. I have never heard their names mentioned in the family. I heard several times that my grandfathers' father has died at the time my grandfather was born, yet, as the record has it, he had another child 3 years later - compare with the family lore below, that his father died at the age of 24.

Grandfather's mother Rosalia Oláh (b. 1861, d. 1. 3. 1936), a gypsy, I traced back to about 1780, via her father Martinus Oláh (a shepherd) & his father Ignatius Oláh, all gypsies (also, not verified!). According to Ružen (Karol's daughter) various gypsies (considered a "low life" at the time for their habit of living on the edge of the society) from Šaľa nad Váhom used to come from time to time and pay him a visit at the railway station Bratislava-Dynamitova tovarna where he lived and worked.

    By the way, Hungary (including parts of south Slovakia), Yugoslavia, Romania, etc. were under Turkish (= moslem) occupation up to (about) 1690, ref. Battle of Zenta, during which occupation the local indigenous populations were almost completely destroyed (= murdered). The baptismal and other record were not kept in those days (unless by Turkish administrators - some research in Turkey would be useful but most likely futile), not until about one hundred years later, when the population of those lands became sufficiently replenished by people from all corners of the Austrian Empire.

    During middle ages people used to be known by their first name with some additional descriptions, for instance John from the hill; George from the estate, etc. Eventually the need for official surnames arose and became gradually required by law. In Hungary, in line with the local language, many surnames were created by adding an "i" at the end of the person's origin. Thus a person from Buda would become Budai, a person from Pest would become Pesti and in our case, a person from Hatvan would become Hatvani. That is my deduction of the surname Hatvani occurring in and around Kiskunfélegyháza: the Hatvanis there probably came from the area of Hatvan in order to colonise the lands vacated by the previous inhabitants, the Kumans, a Tatar/Mongolian tribe (-kun- in the place name signifies Kuman; Kiskunfélegyháza translation is Small - Kuman- half?-village). What they were called back in Hatvan is lost in the mists of time, as the saying goes...

        A slim, about 182cm tall man, with prominent nose, brownish soft hair (with hardly any grey in it), darkish, weathered complexion. Ethnically speaking a good hungarian/rumanian/turkish type (except for his somewhat darker complexion I do not see any "gypsiness" in his features). With somewhat impaired hearing in his late years. Fond of using dialect words from his childhood years spent in and around Šala nad Vahom (masso, erdekbaba, lichva, kubina, bicsak, csiriz, burgandia, etc.).

    A railway man all his working life, he started with a pick and a shovel when he was about 15. He spent about 4 years as a ‘sapper’ (a person involved in the railway track construction) in the Austrian army at Korneŭburg. I wish I could hear his stories relating to the pictures below, for he certainly lived in these barracks (the only such at Korneŭburg), and he could be one of the persons on the railway bridge being constructed:

    Despite living with him all my childhood untile he died when I was 27yo, I've never heard from him a word about his life in the Austrian army and in Austria in general.

    After 1904 he lived with his new wife in a railway house near Diakovce before moving to Bratislava sometime before 1908.

       

In the picture above (taken no later than 1918) he is standing in the middle at home in Dynamitová Továrna railway station with his children (Štefan, second from right, Helena, second from left and František, the youngest in the front, my father), his wife Julia and friends. Old man on the left is a jewish cattle merchant Weisfeiler, the girl in white shirt is Malči (Malvina?) Pošvárová, the girl in the front with buttons is called Mária Brantner, her brother Nándor Brantner is in the Austrian soldier uniform.

Štefan is shown in the pictures marked with an arrow. The year was 1928, location (probably) Nitra airfield:

Karol Hatvani worked in Bratislava on the 'odbočka' near Rendez as a points operator, then at a railway station called Dynamitová Továren, intimately familiar with all railwaymen, railway stations and marshalling yards in and around Bratislava. This is him, standing at the steps of the steam engine:

    My earliest memories of him are in his railway house at Dynamitka station near Bratislava, working as a shuntman and signalman until his retirement in 1940, when he moved with his wife and two unmarried daughters to a newly purchased house on 794 Račišdorfská (now called Račianska) ulica, Bratislava. The house was demolished in 1962 to make way for a tramline.

    As was the custom at the time, railwaymen were provided with houses along the track plus various bits of nearby wasteland for use. My grandfather kept a pair of cows, pigs, chooks, ducks, rabbits, beehives, and along the nearby fish pond of Halatka (full of some 10 different kinds of fish, mainly pike, perch, carp, whiting, plus some water fowl) he used some 300x100 metres strip of rather poor land (topsoil having been scratched off during construction of the abutting railway embankment leaving hard soil full of gravel brought seasonally from the Alps by the nearby Danube river until it was regulated some 100 years previously) to grow whatever was needed, mostly potatoes, corn, beans, beet, peas, carrots, strawberries, sunflowers, poppies. Except for perhaps salt, sugar, flour, some spices, etc., their household was self-sufficient as far as food was concerned.

    His own father having died of pneumonia at the age of 24 (an uncorroborated info only!), his mother (nee Oláhová, also known as Pištáková) married a man from around Piešt'any named František Viczena. His stepbrother, also called František Viczena, worked at a railway station Kotešová, near Zilina (with two sons, Ferko and Janko, see above). In his youth he used to be called Pišták and Deutsch, the latter after some relatives or namesakes (the names Oláh and Hatvani at the time being rather common around Šaľa nad Váhom and nicknames were used to distinguish between them).

    He was an all-round capable man despite only some 3 or 4 years of primary education (winter classes only!). Spoke Slovakian and Hungarian fluently (although his wife said that he acquired his Hungarian only in the school and was never 'a natural'), and, since he spent 4 years in the Austrian army he must have spoken German as well.

    His daughter Ružen recalls him talking fondly of his army years and that he entertained the idea of remaining in the army for life. I visited Korneuburg in 2008 where he spent most of the 4 years and found the old army barracks just being rebuilt into apartments.

    He used to make wine from whatever was available, mainly from grapes, but also from rosehips, redcurrants, even from stale bread. On one occasion, with my father they tried to distil some alcohol from the abundance of plums in our garden. I used to like the wine he produced, but not the distillate.

    Keen reader of books in all these languages, also in the Czech language, and keen to discuss any subject. In my judgment then he was a bit opinionated (Ružen, his daughter, adds he was pig-headed, and short tempered as well), and politically leaning to the left, as was the tradition among the public personnel in general and the railway community in particular. He welcomed the communist 'putsch' in Czechoslovakia in 1948, even bought several volumes of Stalin's memoirs, and was an avid reader and armchair commentator of Pravda daily newspaper stories (which, in my opinion, was mostly propaganda, lies and distortions to show the so-called socialism in good light). We had quite a few heated arguments on various political themes. Physically always healthy except for a spot of arthritis in his left knee in his later years, and rather proud of the broken arm he suffered falling from a tree when he was in his mid-seventies.

    Having lived in the Austro-Hungarian empire for some 40 years he was well qualified to compare it with the Czechoslovakian republic: he used to say that the Empire was much better place to live than the Republic. He blamed the "shit-stirrers", such as T. G. Masaryk, M. R. Štefánik, Beneš and others for creating political disturbances that eventually led to its collapse. Of Bratislava he used to say that it should have remained part of Vienna, instead of being incorporated in the new Republic.

    One memory I am quite fond of, for it vividly illustrates our differences (of this memory I was reminded of by his daughter Ružen, my beloved aunt). It came about thus: on the wall there was a picture of an angry hungarian shepherd, riding on a horseback:

    On the occassion, as related to me by Ružen, he remarked dreamily, in my presence: "When he hits something with his whip...!" It meant that when that shepherd is angry, and when he hits somebody/some animal with his whip, it would hurt something monumentally. I, all of about 14 years old, asked : "Why should he hit somebody/something, when he is angry?".  "Well, when he is angry he hits somebody/something, that's why!". "But, but, why?" "Oh, go to hell, you knownothing, understandnothing boy", was his exasperated answer. It was his hungarian hot blood speaking from him...

    Popular among his fellow railwaymen (Volny, Pobiecky) who used to visit us frequently long after he retired, and also popular among all neighbours. His skills used to be called on by various neighbours during the pig slaughtering season, cow calving and such. Although not a great speaker himself he liked a good yarn. A strong smoker of cigarettes, and fond of an occasional tipple of slivovica or borovička (= plum brandy or gin). I have never seen him drunk or even tipsy, though. Ružen says he used to drink much more in his earlier years.
I think of him often when my children bring me on occasions a bottle of some good alcohol, whisky, gin, for I have never done it while I was living with him. I have never ever bought a bottle of something to him, or my father, or some other male member of my family, regardless how much I liked them. I never bought a box of chocolates, or a bunch of flowers to any of my female relatives, to my eternal regrets. Alas, it can't be undone; thank you, my beloved children and your children, for not being like myself in this regard, thank you a million times!!!

    He died in 1963 a few weeks after collapsing of sunstroke he suffered when cutting grass with a scythe on a sunny day (he had a history of sunstrokes). As I was leaving him on my last visit in hospital where he died two weeks later, he shook my hand saying "Just in case we don't see each other again"; that handshake I feel whenever I think of him, as I can see his eyes at that moment. As I was leaving, I looked back. He turned his head towards me, and our eyes met, but after a second, he looked away. That was the last time I saw him. At his funeral his coffin was opened, and he lied in it exactly as I saw him in hospital. This time his head did not turn, and our eyes did not meet, but I keep seeing them forever...

    He did not have a very high opinion of me as I was a bit of a tearaway in my young days (I lived with them, my paternal grandparents, since I was about 6), and he did not believe that I really acquired a pilot's license at the age of 18, or that I landed a job as an air traffic controller at the age of 24, in 1960. I invited him many times to come and see me at the nearby aero club, or at the nearby international airport where I was working, but he declined - he thought I was pulling his leg, I believe. Aviation in those days used to be held in a fairly high regard.....

    His older son Štefan, born 1906, a steam engine driver, was killed in 1931 by hitting a power pole with his head while leaning out of the window of his steam locomotive. As a child I once demolished a beautiful large wooden model of a biplane built by him (he served his army service at the airfield in Nitra as an aircraft mechanic).

    His younger son, František (1911-1996), my father - see separate blog

    His older daughter, Helena (1908-1992), was a somewhat solitary and strict person, parsimonious, extremely intelligent and able (for many years she worked as the managing director's secretary in the nearby Dynamit Nobel chemical factory), and was ashamed of her – as she thought – humble origins, according to her younger sister Ruzen; during the second world war the German managers (Köpke, Ilgren) used to pick her up from our place in company cars, for she was famous for always being late). Spoke Slovakian, Hungarian and German fluently, later acquired some English as well. I liked her; we went for many a walk together while she lived with us until about 1949. Married to an ex-british army soldier Fero Lepiš (a Bat’a salesman in Northern Africa to 1939, a soldier in the British Army during the second WW, after 1950 a factory plumber in Bratislava), they had one daughter, Dana, who married Jan Hergott, with whom she had a daughter, Zuzana and son Jan. Zuzana spent some 9 months with us in Australia in 1992-3 in order to acquire English. She is married to Branislav Galba, has 2 sons and lives in Bratislava-Vajnory. I am still in contact with her; our older son, with his family, spent a few days with her and her family in Bratislava in 2018.

According to her sister Ružen (not without a hint of envy), their father was so happy that Helena at 40+ years old was finally getting married that he booked the best place in for that occasion, the 800 years old castle in Pezinok.

     His younger daughter Ružen (1920-2010), a very pretty and gentle woman, has never married and lived with her parents. When asked why she never married she replied that she was not interested in constant cleaning after some man. She was highly intelligent, fluent in Slovakian, Hungarian and German, and good in Czech language. Worked as an insurance assessor all her life. My daughter Janet looks and behaves a lot like her, including the left-handedness, the only one in our entire family.

    According to Ružen: his mother, called in her 2nd marriage Rozália Vicenová (but called by everybody Rozanenna) lived with him in the railway house at Dynamitová Továrna station. She was on very good terms with everybody, especially with her daughter-in-law. She liked sitting in the garden and watching the stars and the moon. She died early in 1931.

The following coincidence is hard to explain:

Due to the virus pandemonium we were unable to attend our grandson's 10th birthday on 11. 10. 2021. His father, our older son George, organised a "teleconference" instead. While waiting I received the following automatic message on my telephone: " On the 15th October your grandfather Karol Carolus Hatvani would turn 142"...

    A family picture taken in Bratislava, Račianska 794, dated 1953 approx. Sitting (l to r): Juraj Lepiš (a.k.a. "starký"= dear old man), Karol Hatvani, Júlia Hatvaniová, Ružena Hatvaniová, Alžbeta Lepišová (a.k.a. "starká"= dear old woman). Standing Helena Lepišová nee Hatvaniová and František Hatvani, my father. My sister Hanka sits in the front. The Lepiš's were parents of Helena's husband.

    

Next photo is of Karol Hatvani (second row from top, sixth from the right) in the Austrian army at Korneŭburg army barracks (converted to blocks of flats in 2005). The year was 1900.

    

And off to a football match with his son František from Račianska 794, about 1960. I can still hear him saying "Wait a second while I am cleaning my glasses":

Thank you, and see you later, boys! (added when I was 6 months older than either of them)

JULIE HAVELKOVÁ

Julie Havelková nèe Škrábová, born 1892, died 3. 8. 1972

Grave in Humpolec

(the grave has been desecrated and vandalised in about 2016).
The following is extract from Childbirth register at catholic parish in Humpolec

Husband Josef Havelka.
Children Gustav, Marie and Otylie.
On the left she is in the Domov Důchodců in Humpolec (1971), on the right she is about 50 y.o.:

Above, she is sitting on the left with her daughter Marie (my mother). Taken about 1971 in the garden of Domov Důchodců in Humpolec. She can also be found in the group photographs in Adolf and Josef Havelka entries. A few family pictures featuring her (except for the first):

Top picture l-r: Frantisek Hatvani, Marie nee Havelková, Krasava Nedvedová, Josef Havelka.
Middle: Julie Havelková, Krasava Nedvedová, Josef Havelka, Marie, Josef Nechanicky.
Bottom:Marie, Rozália Hatvaniová (Ruzen), Josef Havelka, Krasava Nedvedová, Karol Hatvani, Julie Havelková, Otka Nedvedová (nee Havelková). Top 2 pictures taken in Humpolec, the bottom one in Bratislava.

Called Julča and Julinka by her husband. In my early years she was always around, like her husband, either in person or via correspondence. Of medium height, slim, with a reputation for being tough. Heavy smoker (used to roll her own), with a smoker's raspy voice.
While her husband was away in the army (1914-1919) she ran his hairdressing shop; their children were being taken care of by the grandparents (Adolf Havelka and his wife).

Fond of knitting and embroidery; a few of her delicate items can be still seen around. A good talker, she liked to relate in a dramatic fashion stories of her everyday life. A good walker, too, she led many a mushroom and blueberry gathering family expedition to the pine forests surrounding Humpolec, mostly on and beyond the hill called Trucbába (a loose translation of this word being ‘a recalcitrant old woman’).

She visited us in Bratislava on many occasions, the last I remember being some time in 1953-4. In December, 1967, myself, Mireille and 10 months old George spent three days with her in the house at 635 Nerudova Street in Humpolec to say goodbye before leaving for Australia the following year. She was not told that it was the 'goodbye' visit. On us leaving she handed to me the viola (a Czech imitation of a Stradivari), which used to sit on the top of her wardrobe, as a present, and asked me to take any of the books she knew I always liked; to my regret now, I declined the offer at the time...
She wrote several letters to us in Australia, which are preserved in the 'heirloom' folder, one of them is shown here:

In the letter she thanks for our letter (from Australia), would love to cuddle our boys, and hopes we would be able to settle down soon. She talks about her daughter (my mother) who invites her to come to Bratislava, complains about the atmosphere in the Retired Home where she lives ("full of mad people, others without brain and old people tired of life"). She writes about the visit from her daughter Otka, her son Gusta, and how she keeps busy knitting and crocheting. Regrets again not being able to cuddle our children, and how she misses us (Inserted by myself: we miss you, too, bábo, even now, 40 years after your death!) . She was fond of cooking traditional rich Czech foods, knedloveprozelo, houbove polevky and bublaniny. Ruzen told me that when they lived in Bratislava she used to make a wiener schnitzel for her husband to take to work every morning.

With her daughter Marie, my mother, she had a bit of a turbulent relationship, and on several occasions the two were not on speaking terms; I do not remember - nor did I care at the time - the reasons.
Her daughter in law, Anna, Gustav's second wife, whom I visited in 1995 and again in 2004, in her flat in Lnárská Street, Humpolec, spoke of her as 'that gossipy woman, who never liked her only son (Anna's husband)'.
I remember her fondly as a kind, although at times strict, woman, and a pleasant grandmother.

I was privileged to know her brother Gustav Škrába, a butcher, a tallish, lean man, somewhat leathery looking, like her, who was, apparently, a good businessman, judging by the two well-run shops in Humpolec. His wife Anezka, a kindly, worried-looking woman, their daughter Otylie, to me an exceptionally beautiful woman; her husband Franta Stepek, a teacher, very upright, straight speaking man, and their two children, Lubos, about my age, and Jarka, a pretty but mentally retarded girl about 5-6 years younger than me. Lubos worked all his life as an aircraft mechanic, and we used to meet on occasions. Last time, in 2006, I visited him in his house at Slatina (near Hradec Králove), met with his family and the pleasure of that meeting I will cherish for a long time.

Also living in Humpolec was Adolf’s daughter Emily, with her husband Josef Nechanicky (originally from around Jilemnice) and with their son, Jaroslav, who was about 10-15 years older than me, and working as an eye surgeon in Most near Praha (he also spent a couple of years in Yemen (Sana'a), and Tunisia). They were excellent people, and with Emily (teta Emilka), Josef (Pepa) and Jaroslav (Jarda) I spent many a happy hour in their flat in Humpolec, their nearby garden, or gathering mushrooms in the nearby woods. Jaroslav used to come to see us in Bratislava often, and it was always a happy occasion. With his son Robert, a doctor in Semily, I am still in email contact