Those who have not visited Burgenland may think it still looks like it did in the pictures that their immigrant ancestors had, but the years have brought many changes. I often write that the Burgenland of the immigrants is no more, but on every trip I still find fragments. On our last trip I wanted to visit the Hungarian border region. My cousin Klaus Gerger mentioned this to BB member Heinz Koller from Güssing, and they arranged a day trip to Köszeg (Güns).

It was a fine Burgenland morning as we drove along Rt. 56 via Moschendorf and Eisenberg. Fields were harvested or bursting with growth and there was little to remind us of earlier days. Then just north of Schandorf we caught a glimpse of old Burgenland. She was at least 90, dressed all in black. She was trudging along the road carrying a large string bag. Klaus said that we must give that poor woman a lift, so he stopped and asked if she‘d like a ride. It turned out that she had a 4.00 PM doctor‘s appointment in Rechnitz, and that she was walking to a friend‘s house there. It was about 10 kms to Rechnitz from where we picked her up. She wishes us “Grüss Gott” and talked of her journey in a German dialect. Old Burgenland appeared in her greeting, the old custom of wearing black for mourning, walking a great distance and her dialect. We dropped her off near the Rechnitz border crossing and the last we saw she was striding toward the village.
After a fine day at Köszeg, we visited the cathedral of Jak. This 12th century fortified and virtually windowless church is very imposing and must look the same as it did when our ancestors saw it. What is different is the modern visitors‘ center. In the gift shop, I bought a book containing post card views of border villages in early times, lovely views of old Burgenland. We then drove south to Pinkamindszent (village of my great grandmother Julianna Tarafas). The Hungarian side of the border is not as modern as the Austrian side. It looks older and has some straw thatched cottages. At Nagykölked, we saw windlass wells in front of the homes. We stopped for pictures and the inhabitants came out and greeted us. When they discovered we were from America, they wanted us to come in and have some wine. More vignettes, straw roofs, village wells and that old Burgenland hospitality.

At Pinkamindszent we had trouble finding the cemetery. Looking for it, we travelled dirt lanes linking old farms. One had a large masonry barn that may have been a Batthyany horse farm as it was still being used for raising horses. One dirt road, over the Pinka, went west to the border and had we continued, we would have been in Austria, being chased by border police. There must have been many such roads in my grandfather‘s time. Our final view of old Burgenland were the wine cellars located in the hills around Heiligenbrunn. We ended the day with that fine Burgenland custom of a stop at the local Gasthaus, but unlike our ancestors, we had ice cream instead of wine.
Gerry Berghold

by Gerry Berghold <GBerghold@aol.com>