LEVINE:

Today is July 20 th , 1996, and I'm here in Franklin, New Jersey, with Mrs. Elinora Toth, who came from Hungary in 1921, when she was eight years of age. Today we have Mrs. Toth's grandson, Johnny, and her daughter, Rosemarie, who are here with us. Okay, if you would start at the beginning, and say your birth date?

TOTH:

Excuse me one thing? You see, in want him to be included in with certain something, because he's really the one that made it possible, with all of this, because I want him to feel good and remember me by that piece of one that made this come true for me.

LEVINE:

That's beautiful, because he went on a trip to Ellis Island, and picked up this questionnaire?

TOTH:

Yeah. And here he asked me many, because in school they had book reports, like, or what. And he's the one who asked me all these questions, and through him, that this all happened, yeah. So I want him somewhat included in certain ways.

LEVINE:

Well, I think you've already done that! [Laughs]

TOTH:

[Laughs]

LEVINE:

That's wonderful! Okay, well he's probably gotten you ready for any questions I'm going to ask, because he's probably asked them. Okay, your birth date, if you would say that?

TOTH:

My birthday? My birthday, as far as I, 1920, March 20, 1913.

LEVINE:

Okay, and where in Hungary were you born?

TOTH:

Oh! That's — well, it had to be — I don't know, I have to say it. Subotch, Magyar [PH], and that's how it was said.

LEVINE:

Say it again?

TOTH:

Subotch, Magyar. That's the town's name, like Franklin, New Jersey here. But it's called that.

LEVINE:

Subotch?

TOTH:

Magyar. That's the town.

LEVINE:

Okay, now did you live in Subotch, Magyar, up until the time you left for America?

TOTH:

That's what I lived, through that eight years.

LEVINE:

Okay, now what do you remember about the town itself? Was it big, was it small? What did the main street look like? Do you remember anything about it?

TOTH:

Well, I remember it, because it was all dirt roads, and we didn't have no — just buggy and horse. And we had, like, every morning different — how to say? They had men, one had the herds to — how? I can't explain it.

LEVINE:

Like a shepherd?

TOTH:

Pardon?

LEVINE:

Like a shepherd?

TOTH:

Sort of. They had to tend the sheep, or the cows. And they had to herd them out to the fields every morning. One had that to do, and one had — even they had goose boys, and had geeses to out. And all day they stayed there with it, they attended. And then in the afternoon, a certain time, they all had to bring them back home. Each household had certain ones, and they took everybody's who wanted to be taken out to the fields. And like they grazed like the horse or the cows, and that's what a lot of them did.

LEVINE:

Would one person take out the horses, or the sheep, or whatever, of several people?

TOTH:

They each had their, separate for each. Say, like, the cows, they had a couple of them to take it out. They — how to explain myself? To the street, they had a herd of so many each one had, and they took it out to the field. I mean, they had their sheepdogs with them and all, and they helped. And then all day they stayed there with it. And then in the afternoon, around four o'clock, they start bringing them back, each whoever had theirs in the herd, they let it out, and then they, by the time they finished, they all — each one was at their own place.

LEVINE:

They let the animals off to the places they belonged?

TOTH:

To each, the people that owned it, yes. And that's how a lot of them made their living.

LEVINE:

Did your father do that?

TOTH:

No, my father, he worked out in the fields, where they raised the grapes, grape wine, they called it. They used to plant it, and then they took care of it. And then when the grapes were ripe, they picked it, and they harvested, like, and they had a certain place. Like here, in crates, they packed it, and they shipped it over there. And I think it was for wine they made it, different wines, the blue grapes or the black grapes, and then they had white grapes. And that's where he worked, in the field where they had the grapes growing.

LEVINE:

Now did he work for someone who owned that field?

TOTH:

It was someone that owned the field, yes, 'cause he was just a worker there, yes. Most of the mens worked for someone else, it wasn't their own. They couldn't afford. That's how they made their living, they worked for either one place or the other. Some were out just cutting hay for certain people, and then some, they had all kinds of hay and rye, and oats, things like that, they grew out in the field. Each one had their own, like they worked for different places, each. Well-to-do people had a certain amount of land, and they, one had it growing, like grapes, the other one, how to say? Like I said, rye, and oats, and for different things, they grew. And then they had a big field of like, they raised all kinds of vegetables: potatoes, corn, and that's what they worked on all through the summer.

LEVINE:

Do you remember market days?

TOTH:

Well, the market days were — see, the mens here, they packed the things, and the man who owned the place, he had a place where they packed each day, like maybe a big barn or what. And then he's the one who took it to the market certain days. That's the way I remember it. That's why I say I can't explain it as it should be really, see.

LEVINE:

Well, you were eight years old. But anything you remember, through the eyes of a child. How about your father? What was his name?

TOTH:

My father was Mike Bicanchis. [PH]

LEVINE:

And your mother?

TOTH:

My mother was Mary. Her maiden name was Szanislo. [Laughs] That's another hard name.

LEVINE:

S-U-N-N?

TOTH:

S-Z-A-N-I-S-L-O, I think the way it's spelled. I can't, like, unless I write it down, write it, like.

LEVINE:

Okay, we may have this on the papers, actually, anyway.

TOTH:

Yeah, that should be on it. And when my mother was there only with us; she was out in the field all the time working, too.

LEVINE:

How many brothers and sisters did you have when you were in Hungary?

TOTH:

Three.

LEVINE:

Three, plus you?

TOTH:

And I was the baby.

LEVINE:

You were the baby? So your mother didn't stay home and take care of her children? She was out working in the fields?

TOTH:

That's right. And it was very hard, because she came home late, and then instead of her cooking the dinner, my brother, the oldest one, Mike, used to cook.

LEVINE:

What kinds of foods do you remember from there?

TOTH:

One day I remember that we were very hungry, so he didn't know what he should cook. So he peeled a bunch of potatoes, and he put it in the pot with no water or anything on it, and put it there to cook. And of course, it all cooked mostly on the bottom, but we ate it anyway, even thought it was half burned, because we were really hungry.

LEVINE:

Were potatoes a big item in your diet?

TOTH:

Oh, yes, yes. We had a potato and beets and cabbage, and carrots.

LEVINE:

Did you have a lot of meat?

TOTH:

Meat, the only way we had, we raised chickens. My mother raised chickens, and well we had a cow, and the milk we got from that. And other meat, we had — I think she raised pigs, small little pigs, and then she let it grow up to a certain — well, sometimes depend on, if you wanted younger, then you had nice bacon. And we had it slaughtered, and we got the meat from there. And the cows we had for the beef, but that was only already when the cow got older, and it didn't give milk. So they slaughtered it, and that's the only meat we had.

LEVINE:

Did you have refrigeration?

TOTH:

No.

LEVINE:

So when the pig was slaughtered, for example, how was that meat kept?

TOTH:

Well, they had a smokehouse, and they smoked it, and hung it up in the attic. And that stayed. So we only had so much, not for years, or like a year, or for months and months. Just up to a certain time, that that would keep. And because otherwise, like you say, it would spoil.

LEVINE:

How about your grandparents? Did you know either your mother's--?

TOTH:

Just my mother's mother, my one grandmother.

LEVINE:

You knew her?

TOTH:

That's all I remember. My grandfather, my mother said she was ten years old when he passed away suddenly.

LEVINE:

So what do you remember about your grandmother? Did you ever spend time with her?

TOTH:

Oh, yes. In fact, we were there quite a bit, otherwise. We played there. She lived a ways from us, and we went there the day time. And I don't know, my brother, my oldest brother, he went out to the fields for a while to work, too. I'm not sure of that, but he wasn't with us, because he was the oldest. And the three of us was more home.

LEVINE:

Name your brothers, from the oldest.

TOTH:

Well, Mike was the oldest, and he's the one that helped at home, the one who cooked the potatoes [laughs]. And then Andy, my next to the oldest. He did little errands for neighbors, and he spent some of his time that way. And then Joseph, he was young, the youngest in the boys, and he was more with me. We went over my grandmother's, and we sort of spent most of the day there, playing.

LEVINE:

What kind of a woman was your grandmother? How was she?

TOTH:

She was very good to us, very nice, I remember. In fact, when we were coming to this country, she had an apron on, and she put it over her face. She was crying, and she says, "Don't go, because I'll never see you again." But she was very broken-hearted that we came away. But she was a very, as far as I remember her, she was very good, a very quiet grandmother.

LEVINE:

What did you call her?

TOTH:

Mudmama. [PH] It was in Hungarian; it's like Grandma, American way, yeah.

LEVINE:

And how about aunts and uncles, or other family, extended family members, that might have been around? Do you remember any of them?

TOTH:

Well I had an aunt and an uncle. He was in the First World War. But I didn't know him too much, because after he came back he was shell-shocked, and he was very, after that he was very quiet. He did little chores around the home, but he lived with my grandmother; he never married. But he wasn't the same after that.

LEVINE:

Do you remember anything else about the First World War? Is there any other way that the First World War affected you?

TOTH:

Oh, yes! I remember that they came in. I can't remember what they were.

LEVINE:

What army it was.

TOTH:

No, that I can't remember. Some said this, I don't know, someone said it could have been Russian, or what, but I wouldn't remember that. But each house had to take in two soldiers. I remember that. And my mother had chickens and pigs, and they were very, some of them were mean. They came around and looked, because when we heard that the soldiers are coming in town, everybody was hiding things. They dug, like flour and rye, or we had oats. We dug it in the ground so they won't find it. We had an extra room, like, and we tried to hide it, because we knew that they'd take it away if we didn't hide it. So like I said, two came there, and they went around where the chickens were, and the pigs, and one of them took his sword out, and he was ready to just chop the head off the chickens and the pigs there. And the other one stopped him. I couldn't understand their language, the way they talked, but I think that he told them not to. So he let it go, because he seen we were all around. My mother was crying, and we were each around her, holding her, around her holding her dress or skirt, whatever. And we were all crying there, because we seen what they were going to do. And then the other one, like I said, stopped him, because he felt sorry for us, that we were so low, and we all were crying. So they didn't bother it. All they took after was one nice tablecloth. It was homemade, you know, my mother made it. That, they grabbed it off the table and put it away for themselves. But then we had to have them sleep, too, there. They had to like house them, each. It depend on — some had three of them, some had two only, some had four. It depend on the family size.

LEVINE:

Do you remember the house that you lived in? Could you describe it?

TOTH:

Oh, it was a strawed, the roof was. And that's what it was, the roof was out of straw. And we had only dirt floor.

LEVINE:

And was the hiding place in the dirt floor in the house? The hiding place for the oats?

TOTH:

Well, we had like — how they call that? A little extra room that we had for cold, to put cold things in there. You could say it was like a little ice box, but like half of this room, here. And we had things in there, like the — even potatoes, and different vegetables there. And the floor was all dirt; we had no floor out of the lumber. In fact, the house, I think, too, was all made out of dirt. Like when you plaster or cement, more like the cement. But even the floor, every week my mother always rubbed it, a bunch of dirt that she got, and then put a little water on it. And that's how the floor was cleaned, that she put a layer of if on the floor.

LEVINE:

A layer of dirt with water?

TOTH:

Yeah, like a paste, and then she spread it all over on the floor, and that made it clean. That was the cleaning. Like here, we vacuum, or we have the floor, the boards, and what. But there we had dirt all over.

LEVINE:

So did you have a second?

TOTH:

No.

LEVINE:

No, it was all one level?

TOTH:

It was just all one. We had one bedroom, and living room all in one. And we had a smaller room, with like the kitchen in there, with a big stove, wooden stove in there.

LEVINE:

A wooden stove? Can you describe the stove?

TOTH:

Well, it was one like here, they had the coal and wooden stove in the old days.

LEVINE:

It burned wood?

TOTH:

That's right. We burned the wood in there, but we had no coal. Just the wood.

LEVINE:

Was the stove made out of iron?

TOTH:

That was, yes, black.

LEVINE:

One of those cook stoves, with like the round places on top for pots?

TOTH:

No, it was a big one, say like this —

LEVINE:

Television?

TOTH:

The television, yeah.

LEVINE:

A potbelly, kind of?

TOTH:

It wasn't a potbelly, it was a regular stove, a wooden stove. It was flat. I mean, the top was. It had four burners on it, and we cooked on that, or fried, whatever. And it did have a oven in there. We put the wood in there to build the fire, and we baked in that. But then we had a small place, I don't know what you call that. That's where it was like — how to say? Like the bakery have, you put so many bread in the big oven, like? It was, you had a big shovel, and you pushed bread in there. And we baked five, six, loaf of bread, each time we baked. And that's what we had, the bread the baked ourselves, always, my mother.

LEVINE:

Was this the stove with the four burners on top where you baked the bread? It was another?

TOTH:

No, this was a different — it was like the stove like here they used for the —

LEVINE:

Pizza.

TOTH:

Bakeries have those big ovens, like all in one big oven, and they put so many things in there. That's what that was, but that other stove was like in the kitchen. But the kitchen was about that, and the table and four chairs, the chairs, and that's all. And then, like I said, the little place, we had that one extra room, where we had our food things in different places, potato, and how to say? Even the rye and the flour and things, sugar, those things, we had in that room there. But that was always closed, so it kept cool, because it was all dirt, see? And it was cold in there, so that's where we dug the things when the soldiers came. And we tried to put things on it so they didn't see the fresh dirt. Of course, a lot of people who didn't do it, they took it away from.

LEVINE:

So they never found yours?

TOTH:

No, they didn't found that. In fact, like I said, we were in a way lucky with the two soldiers, that they were, the one especially, wasn't mean. He didn't let the other one take anything or do anything. So that, like I said, I remember. And then there was another one that was in the neighbor. That one was nice, because I went over there, and he even put me on his lap, and he was feeding me with the food, because he seen that I was hungry. I was then about six. So, we didn't have [laughs] very much in Europe, what I remember from. And I can't even describe the way it should be; I can't remember it how.

LEVINE:

You're doing fine! You're describing a lot! No, you're doing wonderful! What was is like having the soldiers board in your house?

TOTH:

Well, we didn't like it, because we [laughs] were quiet; we didn't dare to talk much. And we didn't dare to do nothing much. In the day time, they went away. I don't know where they went, but they had to go. And then they came back later. But we didn't have to feed them. My mother couldn't have anyway, afford to do it. We didn't have nothing much there, so.

LEVINE:

Now, did you all sleep in the same room? You had the living room and the bedroom, and your family and the soldiers were--?

TOTH:

Yeah, we slept on — we had straw beds, and that's what we slept on.

LEVINE:

In general, you slept on straw beds.

TOTH:

Yeah, well we had it covered with like a blanket or something. And pillow we had, because there they made goose feathers we had and what. And that we had, and blankets we had. But the beds were from straw. We didn't have no other regular beds, as far as I remember. Later on, I guess they said they were having furniture, compared to what we had.

LEVINE:

Was your family religious at all?

TOTH:

Well, we were — we went, oh, in fact, we did go every Sunday, church. We have to go. The only thing is, we all couldn't go, because we didn't have shoes to wear. So one Sunday one went, and wore one shoes, and then if it fit. If not, then that one stayed home. So we couldn't afford to buy much clothing or anything like that. It was very poor then.

LEVINE:

How did you get the shoes? Was there a shoemaker making shoes, or did you--?

TOTH:

There was a shoemaker, and that's where people bought it. He fixed old shoes and what not. He had one of these machines that he ripped them apart, and he made it out of those. There was a shoe store, but way far out of town. But they cost quite a bit. Maybe once in a while my mother would buy for herself a pair of shoes, and then my older brother. But the rest of us sort of tried to wear each other's [laughs]. That's the way we could. In school, we were barefooted.

LEVINE:

So you had started school in Hungary?

TOTH:

I started, yes, but I didn't — I went one or two grades. I think second grade I went, that's all. Up there, by the time you're nine or ten years old, you're out of school already. You have to go out in the fields and work, most of them.

LEVINE:

Was the school a public school? Did you have to go for a couple of years, anyway?

TOTH:

Well, it was a regular school that you did have to go. Of course, there it was pretty rough, because if you did something wrong, the teacher with the ruler, you got quite a few on there. They could slap you with it. END SIDE A, TAPE ONE BEGIN SIDE B, TAPE ONE

TOTH:

--not to bother with any of them, so —

LEVINE:

Did they hit you on the tips of your fingers?

TOTH:

You had to put them together, and then with the ruler, they had to, like that. Once in a while you had to go like that, too, and they slap you.

LEVINE:

Put your hand down flat?

TOTH:

Yeah. Some teachers did slap you in the face, too, but that was very seldom, because you weren't allowed, that already they didn't allow it. But otherwise, it was different. So after, though it changed, when we came, maybe three years later, they said things were changing. After the war was finished, but we couldn't come out until it was all over with. So then they start changing things. But still, it was quite poor, didn't have much things. You have to work for everything you had.

LEVINE:

Do you remember the name of the church, or any kinds of observances or ceremonies connected with the church?

TOTH:

That I can't remember much, because like I say, I didn't attend, only a certain time. My mother attended the meetings and what, but there too, we didn't have much time to do that, because we were busy with other things. We had to work, or we didn't have much to live on. My father, he sent once in a while a little money, but not much, especially before the war, you weren't allowed to get any money there. Even if you did, you had to sign, and go through a lot of paperwork before they gave it to you.

LEVINE:

When did your father go to America? What year, do you know? Was it long before you and your mother?

TOTH:

Well, my father came here much earlier than, I think — well, he left my mother in Europe, too, and he — I think it's on one of these papers.

LEVINE:

Well, he was in America, and then your mother and your three brothers and you came. But was he in America for quite a while before? Did you remember him? When you got to America, did you recognize your father?

TOTH:

Well, not much, because that was quite some years. My mother went to Europe from here, I think, twice. And then the third time is when already I was born in Europe. I wasn't born — my three brothers were born here, in America.

LEVINE:

I see. So your mother was with your father in America?

TOTH:

Yes. See, she came out, but I don't know, I never seem to remember when, when she came out to him, or how it came about that he sent her a visa, or for the boys, too. Because she had the boys with her I think the second time she came, went to Europe already. And then like I said, the third time, she brought me already, too, because she went home with me that way, and I was born there. But the boys were born here.

LEVINE:

I see. So who did you stay with when your mother was in America?

TOTH:

My mother — the children were with her every time she went over. She didn't leave them here. Just my father stayed here. She brought them home to Europe. And like I said the third time, already, it was the third time when already she went home with me, and then she stayed there. I was eight years when she came, and she had all the boys with her when, the second time, she went to Europe. She didn't leave the boys here either time when she went back to Europe.

LEVINE:

I see. How do you feel about the distinction of being the only one to have been actually born in Hungary?

TOTH:

I didn't think nothing of it, because it never was brought up, just that in fact it didn't even phase me until I was older, how come they were born here and I was born in Europe, see. And first I couldn't make it out, how that could be. And then they started explaining to me, that how my mother traveled back and forth. So that's how that the three boys were born here, and I was born in Europe.

LEVINE:

Before you came to America when you were eight years old, did you have any ideas about what to expect? Your mother had been there, your brothers. When you left for America, did you have any ideas about what it would be like here?

TOTH:

No, not really. They never talked about it much, that up here would be different than up there. But yet, the only thing they did say, here and there, that it's supposed to be a better way of living, that it would be easier when we come, when I came out, that would be different already. But it wasn't much different, not too much, because here, too, we always had to struggle, and we didn't have much. I mean, we, main thing was, we were healthy for a while. But then my mother started being sick, and then we had more to struggle. But otherwise, we didn't have much here, either.

LEVINE:

When you set out to leave, do you remember anything that either you or your mother took along to America?

TOTH:

No, we just — I think that she had it on her back, in a big — I don't even think she had a trunk or anything on the ship with her when we were coming out. We had no luggage, just a few clothes that we brought with us, that we would change around. And that's all we came with. We had no money, either. I don't think you were allowed to bring any money out, either, from there.

LEVINE:

And what did you — where did you, do you remember saying goodbye? You mentioned your grandmother was sad.

TOTH:

And my aunt and my uncle. I had an aunt that was — she was the young, next to the youngest. My grandmother had three girls, no, four girls, and the one boy. But the others, my mother's sisters, they were, two of them was here, and the two of them were in Europe. I don't know how that happened, either, that her two sisters were here when we came already here. When I was born and I was with her, then already my aunt was, one was living here in not Franklin, but a little ways from here, and the other one lived in [unclear]. So I don't know when they came here, but then her other sister still was left in Europe when we came out, and her brother, the one that had the shell-shock.

LEVINE:

What kind of transportation did you take to get to the port to get on the ship?

TOTH:

Oh, someone took us. I don't know, it could have been my uncle, with the buggy, up. In fact, in Europe they had these oxen, or what, that pulled the wagon. And we rode in there to a certain town on that.

LEVINE:

And then you got a train?

TOTH:

Then we got onto the train, yeah.

LEVINE:

And then, do you remember getting on the ship?

TOTH:

Well, that was — first we traveled on the train quite a while. I don't know how many days. And then I think that first — no, we stopped in Budapest. I don't know if you heard of that place. There we had to do something, I don't know, my mother had some kind of paper to make out yet. And then again, we went on the train, and then the next time I know we were in Marseilles, France, first, before we got on the ship.

LEVINE:

Were you there for any length of time?

TOTH:

I think only a couple of days, until they [unclear] our papers. They had to go through it to see it was in order, and what, or if we were — no problem was with us, no sickness or anything. They examined us, and then that's when first they found my mother's eyes, something was wrong with it. And then they were going to ship her back; they wasn't going to let her out with us. But we were crying and everything, and then too, we were all scared. And then they looked through it again with the papers, and they found that it was pinkeye she had. They thought that she had some kind of disease. And then after — in fact, that's when we stayed, I think, a day or two extra, so that it would clear up for her. And then they — that's when we go on the ship.

LEVINE:

And the name of the ship?

TOTH:

And a small boat took us to the big ship.

LEVINE:

And the name of the big ship?

TOTH:

That's the one, that Britannica.

LEVINE:

Britannica. Okay, and what do you remember about the voyage? Does anything come to mind about the voyage?

TOTH:

Rough, that the sea was always rough. We [laughs] we didn't enjoy it at all! We couldn't even go out on deck or nothing. It wasn't much of a ship.

LEVINE:

What were the sleeping accommodations like?

TOTH:

Bunk beds that we had. I think two in each. I know my brothers slept on one side, and then my mother and I slept together on the other. We had — I don't know if I slept with her, or it was separate bunk bed, but we were together there. But we didn't rest to good down that either, for the ship was always waving, and we were always sick.

LEVINE:

Were you in a cabin, or were you in like a big dormitory area?

TOTH:

No that I can't really say. It sort of was like a cabin [coughs]. My mother — [coughs]

LEVINE:

Do you want to stop the tape?

TOTH:

No, I get this. Excuse me, it be all right. But no, it was our family and another family in the one cabin. That's how it was.

LEVINE:

So you knew those people? Did you know those people before you got on the ship?

TOTH:

No, not those people. Of course, these other, the one that was my sister-in-law, they were in a different part of the ship. In fact, we only got to know them on the ship. Before that —

LEVINE:

I see, then later she married your brother?

TOTH:

Oh yeah, when we came over here, much later. In fact, my mother passed away already, when he got married, my oldest brother. So, but they didn't come here in Franklin right away. They went another place, and after we found out that they came back here to live in Franklin, that's how we got more friends with them.

LEVINE:

Do you remember when the boat came into the New York harbor?

TOTH:

Sort of, but not too much [coughs]. I can't remember too much. I know we did get into — it was like a big long barrack, like, when we got off the ship.

LEVINE:

At Ellis Island?

TOTH:

Yes. That's where we were for a few days there, too, because there too, we had to have our papers looked at, and then we had to have examination and what not. We had to, each of us, had to go through all kind of exams.

LEVINE:

Do you remember anything about the examination that you had?

TOTH:

Well, they examined us to see if we had any kind of problem or not. Mostly they looked for lice. And my brother, next to the oldest, and this sister-in-law, her brother — they took them in a big bathroom, and they steamed them, and they had to take showers and what not. They cleaned them all up, and then when they were through, we all had to go through that, go in the steam bath, and we had to be all clean. And then when we were, then I don't know. We stayed maybe half a day or maybe a day, and then we got on the train.

LEVINE:

Did you ever sleep at Ellis Island, do you remember?

TOTH:

No. In fact, that was very run down then, when we came.

LEVINE:

Now what impressions do you have of Ellis Island? What do you remember about it?

TOTH:

Not much, because it looked just like a run down building. [Coughs] I don't even know if we were in there much or not, or just walked through it. But, I don't seem to remember nothing much about it then.

LEVINE:

Do you remember anything new and different that you, from the time you left your town and traveled to the port, and got on the ship, were there new and different things that you were seeing, that struck you?

TOTH:

Well, mostly in Marseilles. We, I was telling my grandson here that how we were by the shore there. They were packing oranges to ship somewheres, and they dropped some in the water, and we were fishing it out. Of course, we were sort of hungry, so we went there. I don't even know what we had in our hands, and we did get a few out. And first I didn't even know how to eat it. And then people came along, and was looking at us, and they were sort of like well-to-do people, and after they came to us, and they gave us bananas and chocolate bars. And I just was holding the bananas and the chocolate bar, too, and I didn't know what to do with it. And the lady was looking, and then she came there, and she — I couldn't understand the way they talked, because we talked only Hungarian. So they were I guess French. So she showed me that you got to peel it, and eat it. And I didn't want to take a bite out of it. I didn't know [laughs] if I would have liked it, or if I should eat it. But then they urged me to do it, and my brothers, and we started eating it, and we liked it. And then the chocolate bars. They showed us we had to unwrap it, and eat that, too. And that we liked; in fact, we got sick, we ate so much of it. But you could tell that the people felt sorry for us [laughs] because we looked like we could use something good to eat. And we didn't have much. So those were the things that we did remember, that before, nobody did this to us, that gave us those chocolate bars and bananas. Because in Europe we never had it. Bananas especially; I don't remember. And chocolate, we couldn't even afford it. So those were about the only things that we could see that people were better off than we were, dressed nice, and what. Otherwise, we were anxious to be coming to get to where my father was.

LEVINE:

You took a train then?

TOTH:

Yes, after we got off. When we were in the barrack, and they got everything there cleared out for us, and they put us on the train. And I don't know how many days we came — not long, because it wasn't, I think one day or how. And then well we were supposed to have someone meet us over here in the depot, and the person wasn't there [laughs] and we didn't know where to go. And then a man came along, because we got off the train in a different place where we should have gone. So he came by and we were standing around there; we didn't know where to go. So we seen, or he seen that we were from Hungary coming from the — my mother spoke in Hungarian. The man was Hungarian, too, and he spoke. He said, "You just got off the train, and you were supposed to have someone meet you?" And she says, "Yeah, and nobody came." So he took us home in his house, and his family, and they fed us. They gave us food, and then we told them who was supposed to meet us, and they came with us and took us to the place where the person was supposed to meet us. And then from there, well, we stayed over that person's house a couple of days, and from here — that was here in Franklin we came. And my father and my uncle was out in Buffalo, New York. That's where we supposed to go in the first place, because he had a farm there rented, and that's where he was working, and we were supposed to be there with him. So then that man took us over there; took us a couple of days to go on the train.

LEVINE:

So you went to Franklin when actually you meant to go--?

TOTH:

Well, we came here because that man was supposed to bring us over to Buffalo, New York, because my father told him that. So he's the one that he did take us after a while, came on the train with us. And took us there, and he came back, but we stayed there a year. Then we came back here, and since now, we've been here.

LEVINE:

What was it like seeing your father after--?

TOTH:

I was afraid of him first, because I never seen him before, and it was strange to see my father, when I was told that's my father. Of course, my uncle was there, too. Then I went to him, and I gave him a hug, and he gave me a hug, too. And then after that we stayed there. And there, too, we worked. There was a farm and we all had to work [laughs]. And then my father and my uncle didn't get along so well. My father decided to come here back, and find work, and then send for us. So that's what he did. He found work here in the zinc company, and then we came to live here. And since that, we living here.

LEVINE:

What kind of work did your father do, in the zinc?

TOTH:

He worked in the mill. I don't know, they had to separate things. Well they had the zinc they worked with, and the big stones from the small stones. They had a table, and go on that, they had to separate things, the smaller stones from the big stones that was going on like a belt. And they had to pick each one, and throw one here, throw one there. But it was a little dusty there, he said. I remember him saying the mill was dusty. But he worked there quite a while.

LEVINE:

And how about your mother? Was she — did your mother work, once she got here?

TOTH:

No. She kept house.

LEVINE:

So was life better for you? Or did it take a while to get better?

TOTH:

Well, we were young then; we didn't mind. You know, it was a little better, because we had more things and what. We had our own place that we lived, and a better house and what. And then we had better food and everything, and better clothes. And then around five years later my mother started getting sick, and she had problems here, there. And then when I was thirteen she passed away.

LEVINE:

Did you start school when you first came here?

TOTH:

Yes, we did. All of us went to school, but my brothers were too old to go to school here, because in Europe they were finished in school. But here they required that they go to school yet, and then what do you call? I went fourth grade, and that's all. Eleven years old I was out of school, because I had to take care of the family, because my mother was —

LEVINE:

What was it like for you learning English when you first came?

TOTH:

It was hard, because we didn't understand. In school, we had to have interpreter.

LEVINE:

Interpreter, uh-huh.

TOTH:

Yes, because we couldn't understand what was said. But within a year or so, we knew same as the rest. We learned very easily. In fact, when my daughter went to school, that's all she knew was Hungarian. She couldn't speak English. And they were talking with the teacher, or my sister-in-law's daughter, they went together, and they were always talking Hungarian. And the teacher was always ask them what are they talking about? And they said, "Well, you should learn Hungarian, and then you know what it's all about." [Laughs]

LEVINE:

You stopped at eleven?

TOTH:

Pardon?

LEVINE:

You stopped school at eleven?

TOTH:

Yeah, I was taken out of school then, because I had to take care of — my father worked, and my older brother, he went away. He didn't stay here; he went to find a better place for himself. He liked to change around; he didn't like the zinc company, work in the mine. He didn't want to stay in there, so he went away, and just my other two brothers was, and my father, my mother, and I. But I still had to take care of them. My mother, she wasn't in bed, not that. She was up and around doing light work, with my help. But then, like I said, I was thirteen when she passed away. In fact, my brother, the second one the oldest, he was eighteen and a half years old. He passed away in March, 1929, and my mother passed away July 1929.

LEVINE:

Wow.

TOTH:

Same time, about two month's difference.

LEVINE:

Okay, we're going to pause here, because I need to change the tape. END OF SIDE B, TAPE ONE BEGIN SIDE A, TAPE TWO

LEVINE:

Okay, I'm beginning here with tape two, speaking with Elinora Toth, and she came from Hungary, 1921, at eight years of age. And let's see, where were we? You had left school at eleven. Your mother died when you were thirteen. So you were really taking care of the house for your father and two of your brothers?

TOTH:

That's right.

LEVINE:

One of your brothers?

TOTH:

Yeah, two. Well, one died, but my older brother off and on, he came home, too, and he stayed for a while, and then went away. Of course, it wasn't that he had to be taken care of, but yet I had to do the things for him, wash and iron, and what not, and cook his meals when he was around. So he was there quite a bit, too, so it's still could say —

LEVINE:

You had to do things for him, sure.

TOTH:

Yes.

LEVINE:

Now, were you speaking Hungarian at home when you stopped school, and you--?

TOTH:

Oh yes, I was speaking both languages, and I still do, Hungarian. In fact, my mother and father, they didn't speak English, see, very little, yes and no, and a few things. But my mother couldn't speak at all, just the Hungarian. So we had to keep up the Hungarian language. Even my daughter, she used to speak it. She still does, only she can't pronounce it the way it should. But she understands everything. No matter what you say in Hungarian, she knows what it's all about, yeah.

LEVINE:

Uh-huh. Now, were you — do you think that your father and your mother were interested in holding on to some of the customs, or some of the Hungarian ways? Or were they trying to become Americanized? Did they have an attitude about that?

TOTH:

No, they were plain — they didn't want to change any way, except for the living, way of living, that we would have liked a little bit better, or easier life. But we still sort of, say, well, we had a nice life. Just that it still was not enough; we couldn't get ahead too much, because something always came up that put us back, either sickness or a problem with the money situation, didn't have enough or didn't make enough. And we just — we had a simple life. We didn't make out, I mean, rich or, the thing was that we were more satisfied just the same than almost like now, because it was a different way of living. It was, somehow we were contented. And we didn't have all this hurry-hurry, and how to say it another way? We sort of were more happy, and more time for one another, than nowadays.

LEVINE:

Was there a Hungarian community around Franklin that you and your family had contact with?

TOTH:

Well, we —

LEVINE:

The church? Did you go to church where there were other people from Hungary?

TOTH:

Oh yes, we knew quite a few people here that we attended the church, we had social dances, we had supper, and get-togethers, like that. We even had, like, a play every certain time of the month. One day out of the month, they had like when you used to have vaudevilles? They went on stage and played, how they called it? On the — they made, no, they had a name for it. They learned different things.

LEVINE:

You mean it was like a play, it was like a theater, like a production of a play?

TOTH:

Yeah, something like that.

LEVINE:

In Hungarian?

TOTH:

Yes. They learned that play — they named it, you know, what the play was about, and they had a different part, each of them. They even used to have dances, nice dances. And they had, when the grape, we had the grapes already in season, they ripened or how you say it, picked, and they had a ball, the grape season. They hung bunches of grapes on the ceilings of the hall. We had a hall, the Hungarian Hall, or the Catholic Hall we rented. And they put so many bunches of grapes on the ceilings or wherever. And then they had the music. It was like a — they called it a ball, you know, a dance. It was a dance, but they called it a [Hungarian] ball. That was like a fall festival sort of like, that through the grapes they had a ball for that, a dance. They had the dance. And the music played, and they were dancing. And as they danced, all of a sudden one pair would grab a bunch of grapes down, and if — and how to say? There was a person in watch when that one person did that, and they got caught, then they had to stop their dancing, and they had to go to the other person to pay the penalty, because they stole the grapes, or, that's how I could explain it. And they made money for different charity, like, with that. But it was supposed to be that you'd dance around, and then all of a sudden you grab a bunch off. And sometimes it was a bigger bunch, and sometimes smaller, and the more it was, the more you paid for that bunch. You had to pay money, and that was kept in the — how to say? For certain charity, they made it, and they put that in a safe box. And when the time came, then they gave it to certain charities. And then again, next time, they made, and they different ones. But it was a very lot of fun. You don't see that or hear about that nowadays. Those days, they had always something going on. They had a dance, or one week, or a play next week. But each, almost every week, a different thing they held. And the people get together. They made a lot of different suppers. They had that, too. Well, that was for the church most of the time. And they made all kind of food, and people came around, and they loved that! They had cabbage rolls, they had chicken paprika. And those were the — those days, well, it still is! They are known for that, the Hungarian people, these Hungarian foods. And the hall was always filled. But people got together, and they used to summer time too, they used to go out, make a picnic, and they had all kinds of things there, too. They used to sell different things, and they had a dance, too, and we had a whole day of fun. It was always on a Sunday that we had it, and then too, they made the money for either the church or whatever needed it. But people were always close together. They kept things in those days. They planned things together.

LEVINE:

Were you more apt to have something like that here than you actually had when you were in Hungary? Did people do that same kind of thing with the grape ball in Hungary? Or was that something where once the Hungarians were here, they wanted to keep together that way?

TOTH:

Well, there, I don't know if they had it or not. I never even thought much of that, that it did come from the other side, that — how to say?

LEVINE:

The idea of the grape ball?

TOTH:

Yeah, all those different things or not. But I think it came through here through the Hungarian people, the ones that came from Europe. And even though there they did have certain dances in Europe, but I still think it was from the other side, the idea came from there. The one that we held over here, that it through them that we still sort of remembered it, even though I didn't, because I was young, yeah. But it did come from there, because it was only the Hungarian people did that, see up here, too, that we got together, and we had things going on all the time then. But then little by little, everything just got away from people. They started different things, and now they don't even know what that ever was [laughs]. Because it's a different way of living compared to then. But then, somehow you enjoyed everything. You wasn't — you didn't have much, like we say, but you enjoyed togetherness, and you did things together, you spend time together. And we were happy. We knew more happiness then than we know now, because even then, I don't know, we may have had a lot of sickness then, too, but it's different now somehow. Too fast, or what [laughs]. Too many modern things, they patent it or what. Even, I don't like television. That, I think that's when we start not visiting each other, because we'd rather watch television. And in those days we didn't have television. We went to, what is it, the family or friends. One a day, one came, or we went, and the next the other. We took turns, and we visited and spend time together. But after that, it slowly faded away. And those days, we had more time. Like I say now, we have everything modern. We have wash machine, we have refrigerator. Those days we had only icebox. And we didn't have these modern things that made it easy, like vacuum cleaner. We just had a little, the other sweeper. And we didn't have rugs; we just mopped the floor, and linoleum. And yet, we had more time for one another. And today, somehow, it's not the same. It's not enough time. Seems like the days goes by, you don't do things like before. I seems like now the time goes away too fast, and it's still the same, and yet you should have more time, because everything is more modern. Even the ironing. We had to heat the iron, and iron like that. Now, electric everything, and still not enough time. So, I think we enjoyed it much better, the old time, than — maybe some people enjoy it more than the other. So, like I say, maybe it's just me, the old-fashioned [laughs]. But I still say that we had more fun.

LEVINE:

When you started getting interested in boys, did you look for a Hungarian boy? I mean, were you interested in finding a mate who was Hungarian?

TOTH:

Not really. One thing, that too, you see, when you haven't got your mother, it's not the same. You have no guidance, or how to say it, no one to tell you how to do, or what to do, or which one to choose, or which one is better. Then you sort of was more on your own, or unless you had a good friend, and they gave you advice, or a neighbor that once in a while gave you advice. But it really didn't enter my mind that it should be a Hungarian. It was more the one you seen was a better person, sort of.

LEVINE:

That must have been hard for you, because here you were, from another country, and your mother had died, and you're really keeping house for men, your father and your brothers.

TOTH:

Yes, there was no women. In fact, even my — well, one good thing was that I had a nice neighbor, and they had a daughter same age as me. And they took me in, almost like their own. And with their daughter — they only had that one daughter — and we were like sisters, or even better, because a lot of times they say the sisters fight and what not, or the brothers. But we always were very good for one another. We always did things together. We went — she was Catholic; I was Presbyterian, and yet one Sunday we went to her church, and next Sunday we went to mine.

LEVINE:

Well then, you started out as Catholic? Did you start out as Catholic in Hungary?

TOTH:

Yes, because when I was born, and by the time they was to baptize me, I was told by my mother that the minister was away, and there was no — we didn't have that many. Like here, you're in one town or the other, you have Presbyterian, a couple of them, or Catholic. There, you didn't have, so I had a Catholic priest that baptized me. And the way it was to baptize, that when I reached my twelfth birthday, then I could choose, either to be one or the other. So that's how came about that when I was twelve, then I — in fact, in the Presbyterian, see, we had Catechism, when we were eleven or twelve years old, that we had to study, where here the Catholics, they have at six, or seven years, or eight. Is it eight years, Sonny, when you're eight years old that you're baptized, or how they call it in your church?

LEVINE:

Communion, you mean communion?

TOTH:

Communion, yeah. Eight years old? Eight years old. So already I was past that year, so — and I was, I learned more of what the Presbyterian, their ways, then the Catholic ways. Of course, otherwise it did sort of went more with the Presbyterian than the Catholics. I went with the Presbyterian, their ways, I did most everything. But yet with that girlfriend of mine, like I said, that otherwise, we did everything the same, except —

LEVINE:

The place where you had the grape balls, and everything — was that the Presbyterian church, or was that--?

TOTH:

That was, we could have, for the Presbyterian, or the Catholics.

LEVINE:

In other words, you just had the hall? It wasn't really associated with the church per se?

TOTH:

No, anyone could. I mean, either one could go to it; it didn't matter that you had to be Catholic or Presbyterian. Anyone could attend it.

LEVINE:

I see. Was most of the Hungarian community in and around Franklin, were they Catholics, generally speaking, or were they a mixture?

TOTH:

I think it still is more the Catholic than the Presbyterian. It was sort of always that way here. I don't know other places.

LEVINE:

Now, what was the name of your friends, your friend, and the family that kind of took you in?

TOTH:

Oh, in my neighbors?

LEVINE:

Yeah, your neighbors.

TOTH:

That was, my girlfriend's name was Margaret. Well her name was Margaret Fedor [PH], because he passed away, I don't know how old she was. And then the mother married again, and then it was a different name. But she went on with Margaret Fedor.

LEVINE:

Now, had she come from Hungary as well?

TOTH:

Yes, they came later than I did, her and her mother came. It was maybe five years later they came.

LEVINE:

So how did you meet your husband?

TOTH:

Well, that more with — my brother, my older brother, he had a bakery route, and he used to go out that way in Wharton, where my husband-to-be. Well, he went to Wharton and different, around that area. He used to, but somehow — well, in fact my brother, too, he was going with a girl from there in the beginning, yeah, from Wharton. And this girl was related to the one that was to be my husband. And he got friends with them through his girlfriend, my husband's family. So one day he brought him home, or his parents, they came up. Because I think then, yet my — no, it wasn't then. For some reason, they came up, his family, and I guess it was to be that to meet me. They didn't tell me, only when they came that Sunday. One Sunday they came, my husband's family — I mean, to be. His mother and — no, just his mother and an aunt of his came over, and they came over like to visit, but it was to meet me, and they didn't tell me that. In fact, I [laughs] wasn't dressed or anything. I was sloppy and everything, and when my brother, he says, "You know, someone's coming over." And he says, "You're not even dressed. You look sloppy!" So, [laughs] I said, "Oh my God," I says. "Now what am I going to do?" So I went, I climbed out through one of the bedroom windows into my bedroom, because my clothes were in the there, so that I could get dressed somehow. So that's what I did. I climbed through one window, and climbed in the other! And I dressed up, and then I went back to the other bedroom, where I climbed out from the first, and that was right by the kitchen, so I could get into the kitchen. And when I got in there, I went over in the living room, and I said, "Hello." I said I was washing dishes, so that's why I didn't come out earlier. But I was dressed, trying to dress and comb my hair. So when they were sitting in the living room, was waiting for me to come [laughs]. So that's when I met them, and after that, my husband-to-be started coming up. Because my brother said, "Well, he seemed like a nice fellow, and a nice family." Well of course, I was young yet, and I didn't really want to have a boyfriend yet, steady.

LEVINE:

How old were you then?

TOTH:

Well, I was I think seventeen, because I was eighteen and a half when I married [laughs]. I guess it was eighteen and a half. In fact, I did say since then, I was too young to get married. I should have stayed [laughs] yet unmarried, except I didn't live yet. And that's what I used to tell my daughter. And I says, "Don't get married young. Live yet, instead of tying yourself down," because then already I found out way before that that once you get married, you're [laughs] tied down. Then of course, she came the first year, and my son, he came two years later — no, four and a half years later. So I used to tell her when she was growing up that, I says, "Don't get married. Wait a while." But they both got married. Well, she was, I don't know, in her twenties, or twenty. I can't remember already [laughs]. I know she was born in 1932, and then she's now, she'll be sixty-four or sixty-five [laughs].

LEVINE:

Did you work after that, once you got married? Did you work, or did you simply stay home and--?

TOTH:

No, in fact, I worked more while I was single, when I was taking care of my father, or even when my mother started getting sick, and I worked, and I took care of them, too, beside, or helped my mother. Already I started working then. The year before she died, I start working in the silk mill. And I worked silk mill, and at home, too. And then when she passed away, then I took care of the others, my father and my two brothers. Of course, the other one was gone. And then I worked beside that, and I worked home, too. And then I used to go out with my girlfriend. We had a little good time here and there. But we had a lot of fun. END OF SIDE A, TAPE TWO BEGIN SIDE B, TAPE TWO

LEVINE:

Oh, he worked in the mine? Did you say that earlier?

TOTH:

Well, when we got married, first he didn't work a whole year. He got laid off from work. And then after my daughter was born, then he got a job. And then he worked outside. First he worked at a bowling alley he used to clean, but it was for the zinc company. Then they used to tell him, "Oh, you don't make much money here. Why don't you come down the mine and work?" So he went down there, and then he didn't like it there. But he stayed for a while, and then he got hurt down there.

LEVINE:

What did he ever tell you about working in the mine, that you can remember?

TOTH:

Oh, he didn't like it, because he said he thought it was the same, something like he used to work in the coal mine, in Ohio. And he said this was altogether different. He didn't like it from the beginning yet. He was sorry he went to work in the mine. And then later on, when he got hurt, he had problems because he got dusted. And then when he fell, he had a chain on his — to hold them, you know, in case the caves or something. And if he didn't have that chain on his waist, would have fall fifty feet down. So that punctured his lungs, and then he had eight ribs broken. So, then finally they gave him outside work, because already he wasn't able to work. Doctors told him he can't work in the mine no more. So he worked outside after that. And he worked there, I don't know, thirty-eight years, or thirty-nine, when he retired.

LEVINE:

When you look back now on the fact that you came from Hungary as an eight year old, and made the rest of your life here, in this country, how do you think about that? How do you think about what--?

TOTH:

Well, it was better than it would have been in Hungary, because there still, they say it's not very good. I mean, it's pretty poor, still, the place where I came from. There's some places where it's better, but there it's still not very, not much of a living, they say.

LEVINE:

What makes you feel satisfied, or proud of, that you've done in your life?

TOTH:

Well, I don't know if I have too much. Well, I'm proud that I had a nice family, that I can say, that I'm not sorry. I would have liked if I could have, or we could have, gave them a better life, or better things. But we just couldn't afford it, and they were satisfied. I mean, they didn't hold that against us or anything. They still loved us the same as if we would have gave them most anything. And nowadays anyway, the more you give, the more they want anyway [laughs].

LEVINE:

Well, how is this time in your life? This time in your life, when your family's grown, and--?

TOTH:

Well, when my daughter married, and my son went to college, my husband sat in one corner of the couch, and I sat in the other, and we were crying there. Just cried and cried. We were sad that they both — I said, "Now we're alone." And we were unhappy, because — not that unhappy about them going away, just that we had been so long, and then we had to get used to not being with them. But then after we started again, when she got married, she had her first child, our grandson, her son, and we were mostly together. In fact, a lot of times more than we should, because she took care of me a lot, because I had problems. I had heart operations, and she helped me; she stayed here with me. And then when she had problem I tried to help her out. So we sort of were in a way pretty close, always together. We had our [laughs] ups and downs, and little here and there, but that's natural. But it didn't last long. So, but like I say, I love them both very much. And even though a lot of time I said I couldn't show it the way I should, but that was the way I was, and but otherwise, I cared for them when they had problems, or if something didn't work out right. And I still do, even though already [laughs] I'm not much of a help. I'm more of a burden sometimes, I feel, because you get into the point where you can't do too much anymore, and you try to do whatever you could. And you don't want to try to fall on the children, because they have their own works and problems. And you don't want to put our burden to theirs yet. So I feel already they should have a little better life already for themself, then have the old parents with them, or to worry about. But they still do.

LEVINE:

Well, I think maybe this is a good point. I mentioned at the beginning of the tape that your grandson was here, when actually it's your great grandson, Johnny, who was responsible for bringing this interview about. It would be nice to have him ask you a question, and then we can have that on tape. Johnny, maybe if you stand by your great grandmother, just so your voice is heard on the microphone, and you can ask her the question, and then she can answer.

JOHNNY:

Which life did you like better, when you were in the other country, or when you came here?

TOTH:

Well honey, it's this country. Even though it was hard, too, but I wouldn't change this country for the other one, the old country, because it's hard living there. And we didn't have much, honey, so I'm more happy with this one than I was with the other one. I'd rather have this one. I should have had [unclear] [laughs].

LEVINE:

Okay, so is there anything else you can think of, Mrs. Toth, that we haven't talked about, that fits in with this whole idea of your coming to this country, and coming through Ellis Island?

TOTH:

Well, I think we did cover most of it. Whatever I didn't — I don't think I missed much.

LEVINE:

I think you covered everything beautifully.

TOTH:

Well, which ever way it is, like I say, I can't express myself, but I try the best, especially — either you're too young, or you're old, and either way, it's hard already. When you're old, you can't remember, and when you're young, you can't remember much. So either way, it's already whatever. One thing you're glad of: that you're able to talk and like we say, there's my sister-in-law and my brother-in-law, that their life isn't really anything yet. So I'm very glad and happy that at least yet I'm able, and I still know my mind, or I try, even though I forget a little here and there sometimes. But it's still nothing to compare to a lot of we hear about, or we see, that happened to them, that we should be thankful that we are the way we are, that we're not like most of them. The way we see them, that it's a pity to see them.

LEVINE:

Okay, well I want to thank you very, very much. I've been speaking with Elinora Toth, who came from Hungary in 1921 at eight years of age. So you were born in 1913, so that makes you eighty-six?

TOTH:

No, eighty-three. I'll be eighty-four.

LEVINE:

Eighty-three. I'm sorry, eighty-three. So eighty-three years old at the time of this interview.

TOTH:

Come here Johnny, I want to — and through him that his all happened. I want to have him say it, or how to go about that, because of him that I came to have this. He's — you're the one who — he should say it.

LEVINE:

About how this came about, do you mean?

TOTH:

Yes.

LEVINE:

Do you want to say it, Johnny?

TOTH:

That you wrote, or what you did.

JOHNNY:

What do you mean, like?

LEVINE:

Well, how did it happen that I got to interview your great grandmother today?

JOHNNY:

Oh, well in school, we were going to go on a class trip to Ellis Island. And then —

TOTH:

Speak up loudly.

JOHNNY:

And then she asked which ever kids in the class had grandparents that came through Ellis Island, that they could have one of these sheets, and they could fill it out and mail it to Ellis Island, and that they would come and interview.

TOTH:

And yours was chosen?

LEVINE:

And did you write something up about Ellis Island, too? Did you have an assignment about Ellis Island in school?

TOTH:

Yes, you did. You came —

JOHNNY:

Oh, oh yeah. I went to see Grandma's husband's name.

TOTH:

Your great grandfather.

LEVINE:

On the Wall of Honor?

JOHNNY:

On the Wall of Honor.

LEVINE:

Uh-huh, I see.

TOTH:

But you came through that you wrote about what we were talking about, or that you got that in school assignment?

JOHNNY:

Yeah, we talked about it in school.

TOTH:

And then you filled out —

JOHNNY:

And then we got that form for you to fill out.

TOTH:

Yeah, and that's how we came about to have this. So it's through him that I have this, and I'm thankful and I'm proud of him, that I have a great grandson [laughs].

LEVINE:

[Sound of camera] Wait, let me do one more. Great! Okay, and this is Janet Levine for the National Park Service, and I'm signing off. END OF INTERVIEW