Emigration stories: 
Deutsch Tschantschendorf 
Seventy-three never looked better. Every morning for the past two weeks, Ed Klepeis arrives in his red Ford pick-up truck at the Rosendale Recreation Center at 7 a.m.

 Klepeis, along with his nephew, Robert Miller, and three or four other Rosendalians, are hard at work rebuilding the pavilion which collapsed under tons of snow that buried the town in winter. 

Ed's brother Frank, a retired engineer, was also on the scene. "He gets his coffee, smokes his pipe," he said. "You know, he kind of keeps watch over us." 

Ed and Frank have lived in Rosendale, NY, almost all their lives. "We came over from Austria when I was a little boy," Ed said. "My father started a dairy farm on Creek Locks Road." Ed was following in his father's footsteps, working on the dairy farm, when Governor Dewey sent the State Thruway right through the middle of the Klepeis' Farm. They lost 60 acres (more than half the farm) to the state. 

"I thought I was going to be a dairy farmer the rest of my life, it was all I knew," said Klepeis, whose house, built by his father, was also consumed by the Thruway. Ed adopted a "if you can't beat them. Then join them" attitude. "I had this friend who was a surveyor for the Thruway," said Klepeis. "So he helped me to get on one of the crews." 

At 30 years old, Ed went from dairy farmer to surveyor, which led him into the construction industry - a career he remained at for the rest of his life. "When I was 65, I retired, because I wasn't feeling so good," said Klepeis. Then, with renewed optimism, he said, "but now I feel great!" Ed attributes his fountain of youth to his wife Hilda. "We have been married for 52 years," said Ed. "She is the reason I'm 73," he added. This golden couple had been dating for 6 months before they realized that their families were both from neighboring towns in Austria. 

Three years ago they went back to Austria to have a look at the land their parents came from. Ed's mother's name was Rose, nče Stranzl. Both parents came from Glasing. Hilda's maiden name was Kerbacher. They immigrated from Deutsch Tschantschendorf. "When you look around and see the beautiful area they came from, you wonder why in the world did they ever leave?" he said. 

Like many other Europeans, both their families rode in on the tide of the great immigration to the States after World War I. "If they hadn't," mused Klepeis, "we would have become one of Hitler's storm troopers when they invaded Austria, like many of my cousins." 

Ed and his siblings narrowly evaded Hitler's boy scout troops and instead became cave dwellers deep within the labyrinths of Rosendale. "When I was a little kid we were always running around and exploring the abandoned mines." Klepeis said referring to the extensive cement mines that were part of Rosendale's main industry for years. "It was the greatest pastime imaginable," said Klepeis, but realizes if his parents had known what the kids were up to he would never have been allowed in the mines. "I look down some of them now and think 'oh my god, I can't believe I went down there.' It's so dangerous." 

Klepeis not only investigated the infrastructure of Rosendale's peculiar topography as a child, but has turned that avocation into a full time job post-retirement. Klepeis was recently named chairman of the Economic Development Committee of Rosendale, where he hopes to launch some in-depth resource studies, restructuring of zoning laws and increasing parking downtown. 

Ed worked closely with town supervisor Jeanne Laik on the transfer station where he worked as a consultant. "I am very fond of Ed," said Laik. "He has a great sense of humor and is a wonderful person." According to Laik, Ed's consulting services have saved the town money on many occasions. 

Whether he's home with Hilda, busy at a town board workshop meeting, operating a backhoe up at the landfill or putting in posts for the new pavilion, Ed Klepeis doesn't stay still for long. 

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Burgenlaendische Gemeinschaft 5/6 1998 Nr.353