I was working with less pressure in the LeatherTex Footwear Factory. All my studies and experience paid off, and the first time in my life I had an easy job; a daytime job. I was free every evening, so I joined an Amateur Theatrical Group. We performed some short plays, recited poems in different factories on their social evenings.

One day the factory management received an invitation from the "Scientific Society of Leather Industry" for a three day seminar, to discuss, suggest, organize, educate and co-ordinate every level of management, in order to achieve better productivity. This and more than a dozen other Societies were part of the "Society of Industrial and Natural Applied Science" (S.I.N.A.S.) In Hungarian they called: M.E.T.E.SZ, like the Technion Society in North America.

This was my favorite subject; consequently, I participated in a few seminars. On the closing evening, I praised them for recognizing the importance of this subject matter. At the same time, I criticized them for the poor coordination.

They offered me a full time office job with a good starting salary, which I accepted. My title will be Secretary of the "Society of Industrial Engineers and Organizers" (S.I.E.O.), In Hungarian it is called U.T.E. I was in the right place and at the right time.

I had two full- and one part-time office workers. My direct boss was one of the largest industrial complex's Vice-President, who worked as a volunteer in our organization. My job was not easy, started around 10 am and lasted sometime till 11 pm. There were meetings. Some days we had four or more workshops going at the same time with the participation of engineers, chartered accountants, financial officers and highly qualified production managers.

After my first year, the S.I.N.A.S. organized a five-day International Convention. More than 1.000 people came from every corner of the world. My job entailed directing 18 large busses, transporting the participants from the hotels to the convention centers, to the workshops, and to take them to different restaurants, and then to their assigned hotels.

I organized the tours of about 300 spouses to the countryside and museums. This was my life's greatest, busiest and most rewarding job. My working hours were unlimited; I loved what I was doing, although it left no time for any social life.

One of my coworkers, Judith Friedman, a lovely girl, asked me if I were interested to change my busy life style a little and to meet her long time friend, Vera Neiser. I said, thanks, but no, saying I don't have time for it. After her third try, I agreed to a blind date, without any commitments.

Saturday 7 pm the four of us will go for a river supper/dance cruise. I arrived at the harbor five minutes earlier. I found Judith and her boyfriend already sitting in the dining area. After a short introduction, we had interesting discussions, a nice dinner and a some smooth dancing.

The next few days I was thinking of Vera. The few hours we spent together on the boat were not enough to get to know each other better, but I found her a very interesting person. - A few days later Judith asked me: "So, Leslie? How did you like Vera?" I said she is lovely and I enjoyed the evening with her. "Did you call her for a "follow-up?"-- I said: No. Judith gave me a speech (rather a lecture) and we planned another program for the coming weekend.

From then on, I had dates with Vera every weekend. As our friendship developed, I learned of her life since her childhood:

She had younger sisters: Judith and Eva within a very close knit and loving family. Her father was a hardworking, well educated and a very intelligent man. A tragedy struck, when she lost her mother in 1940. Breast cancer claimed her at the young age of 33. Vera was only 11 years old then. Her father, like many others, wound up in a forced labour camp, and left the three girls in their grandmother's care. When Vera's father returned three months later, he realized that it was an impossible task for his mother to take good care of the children. Eight months later he remarried.

The children needed lots of adjustment. Loosing a loving mother at this young age was very difficult! Vera was living with her grandmother until the Hungarians deported them to the Concentration Camp of Auschwitz. Her grandmother was taken to the gas chamber the next day. Vera was separated from her sisters and she never saw them again. They became the victims of the Holocaust, too.

Vera was sent to a labor camp in Germany with her stepmother, Elisabeth. There is no word to explain the hard life and difficulties of living under those inhumane conditions. She was working in a munitions factory, making bombs. The job was very dangerous and unhealthy. To mix and to pour the hot sulfur into the bombshell was hard work for a grown up person, but for a 15-year-old, skinny, poorly fed girl it was more than hell. Winter without proper shoes and coat, with very little clothing, took a toll on her health.

When Vera was liberated in Germany May 1945, she went back to Hungary, hoping to find some surviving relatives from the Holocaust. She found only her father. Sixty-five of her closest family members perished in different death camps. Her father escaped from the labor camp, and went into hiding in Budapest. Vera's aunt on her mother's side, Aranka and her husband Rudi, who was a gentile, saved their lives.

Vera's father went back to Dombovar to find his family. Only Vera and his second wife Elisabeth survived the Holocaust. His house was robbed by the local Hungarians, but he was able to find some of the items to refurbish his house.

Vera was heartbroken to live without her mother, sisters, and her grandparents. She needed lots of medical attention. It was very difficult to adjust to a new kind of family relationship. In 1948, a new baby arrived, Gabe, a lovely boy. He brought lots of joy to the family.

Vera was working in different places, but in a small town, a young Jewish girl had not much future. She moved to Budapest to stay with her aunt, Aranka. She learned shorthand and other office work, and got a job in this field. This was the time when I entered into her life.

We spent more and more time together and I enjoyed her company very much. She was (and is) a lovely lady, who was lonely too. I wanted to spend more time with her, but I had a hard time to balance my busy working schedule with my ever-growing feeling towards her. Many times her aunt invited me for a real, homemade dinner.

We, (mostly me) felt, that we need each other and our friendship is more than a hot teenage romance; in fact, a slow beginning of real love. I had a stormy few years behind me and it was very difficult for me to ease up a little, and turn my mind away from my work.

Early August, I told Vera how I felt about her. I asked her to marry me. - Her answer was YES. - We went to Aranka's place to celebrate our engagement on August 20th, 1951. There was a terrible shortage of housing in Budapest.

The government divided apartments into two, or more units. With this situation, finding an apartment was a miracle. I applied to so many places, city offices, but found nothing.

We married in the City Hall of Budapest, January 12, 1952. My father and Margit, his wife, Vera's family, the Neisers from Dombovar, Aranka, her husband Rudi, Vera's uncle Ernest Miller and his wife Lulu became witnesses to this 'historical event.'

A few days before the wedding ceremony I received a call to see the Minister of Light Industry. We needed his financial support to our important project. The purpose of the project was the preparation of a proposal for ministerial consideration. I had no choice, but to go. The Minister asked me if the time was right for me to come. I told him about my wedding. He was sorry to cause some inconvenience, and shortly he signed the financial authorization, and extended his best wishes. This short visit was very important later.

After the wedding dinner, we went for a three day honeymoon to a nice, small

Bread & Breakfast place in the Szecsenyi Mountain. It was nice, except the problem with a broken heater!

After a short vacation, Vera moved into my room. The Ungars didn't like the idea having two persons in the next room, but they wanted to help us. Being married, we were thinking and hoping, to have more chance of getting our own apartment. Using my office connection, the Gas Company installed an extra double burner in the Ungar's small kitchen. It was very difficult to cook supper in the small place. Mrs. Ungar was cooking at the same time. There was no Frigidaire, and we had to carry the food, and eat it in our room. They even asked us to go to the bathroom together, not to disturb them during the night. We made many applications in every district of the city, hunting all the time for an apartment. We were rejected in every hearing; we were 22nd on the list. It was very hopeless.

The same year, June 13, 1952 I was drafted by the Army for three months military training. I never liked the army, or any armed forces, but I had to go, even though I reported that I was a newly married man. The camp was in the Western part of country and the training was very hard for me. I have never been a physically strong person, and the training was not my cup-of-tea.

I was born left-handed, but my father forced me to use my right hand. That time a left-handed person was unusual. I used my right hand very well, except I used my left hand to throw a ball. In the army training, we had to learn how to throw a hand grenade. According to the rules, you pull the safety pin with the left hand, count to three, and throw the grenade with the right hand. I explained to the drill sergeant, that I could not do it with the right, only with the left, but he retorted: No!

Between the line of soldiers and the target board, there was a deep ditch for the sergeant to watch the grenade hit. I did the way he told me: left hand pulled the pin, right hand threw the grenade, but it went only half way, just in front of the sergeant's hiding place. He ducked, and when the grenade exploded just in front of the ditch, I knew, I was in deep trouble. He accused me in the court that I nearly killed him. I told the Judge my side of the story. This way I spent only three days in jail, but not much love was lost with my sergeant.

Vera became pregnant in 1954 July. This situation just added to the urgency of finding a home. Regardless of the pregnancy, we were still far down on the list to have any chance. We were desperate beyond description. The Ungars told us that we couldn't stay in their apartment. Nobody was able to help, not even my father. - The pregnancy was in the sixth month.

The proposal concerning the project, prepared by S.I.N.A.S was ready to be delivered to the Minister of Light Industry. I had an idea, and I called for an appointment to the Minister. Even I was surprised that it was granted. He greeted me nicely and he was grateful for the voluminous proposal. I told him about my hopeless apartment hunting. He did listen, and made some notes. He said, he could not promise anything, but will try to find something for us.

Dr. Valko the General Secretary of S.I.N.A.S. called me to his office (METESZ) the first day of March. He informed me that the Academy of Science of Budapest gave us an apartment! He gave me two sets of keys, and wished me good luck for this small, but lovely apartment, which belonged to the Academy as a "company" apartment. This will not be ours to keep, but as long as I work for my present company, we will be able to use it.

I called Vera right away, and rushed to the address: Number 6, Karthousy Street. It was almost on the top of the famous Swab Mountain. We had to take a clog-train up the mountain from the streetcar's stop. We opened the door, and our heart was jumping with joy. Using a big candle, we saw our apartment; a small entrance, to the left a nice full size bathroom and followed by a large room with a large balcony, facing the mountain. There was no kitchen, cooking or cooling facilities. It was centrally heated (very little) and central hot water (once a week for one hour). We hugged each other. It was not easy, as Vera was quite large already.

We moved our furniture and everything else, then said good-bye to the Ungars. They were very nice to us. We made our small home very lovely. Using my "connection", we received a double electric burner, and the entrance became our kitchen.

We were having constant money problems. Even with both salaries, by the end of the month, we were short of money. We had to buy whatever the store had in stock and only in small quantities. The big Farmer's Markets were full of produce, but prices were very high. Aranka Weltner and her sister Rose sent us parcels with canned food, coffee, sardines and clothing. We sold things we could spare and this was a big help. When we married, our complete sets of bed linen came from them! When George was born, the Rubin's family: Kate, Suzy sent lots of children clothing. Suzy's son: Andy was born more than a year earlier.

When delivery time came, we went to the Saint Janos Hospital in Buda. This was a very old hospital with a church. The Government used most of the church area to enlarge the facilities. I left Vera in the hospital, knowing the labour will not start till evening. I received a call after lunch that Vera was in labour. I went to the hospital, but they didn't let me into the delivery room. I had to wait in the lobby. About 5 pm I called my office, and they were surprised I didn't know the news, Vera did a very long, but good job and delivered a heavy, more than nine pound (4.10 kg) baby boy. It was a long labour from 3 am till 4 pm. The nurses forgot to call me upstairs, so I was the last person to know that I became a father. It was April 13, 1955. Our life changed forever.

A week later, I took Vera and George home. Going into our apartment, I said to George: You have to behave, you are a lucky one! You were born into a hardworking parents' home. We welcome you with our heart full of love!

George was a beautiful baby. My father and Margit, his wife, came the next day bringing a baby bed, blankets, a baby bathtub and many other useful items. I don't know what has changed my father, but he became a very good and caring grandfather. Margit was also very nice to us. They visited us very often, each time bringing some useful things for George. Aranka and Rudi also gave us lots of help and support.

I had a good friend at S.I.N.U.S. working in one of the offices, Agnes Ferenc and her husband Feri. (Frank) We were good friends, and spent a lot of time together. We went hiking, went to the beaches together. Both of us had season tickets to attend concerts, operas, or plays. They never had any children. In honour of our friendship, they became George's godparents. In 1972, Vera and George went to Budapest. During their stay, they visited them. It was a very happy occasion to see each other. Both of them died a few years later.

Vera was staying home for 6 months to take care of the baby. George was growing fast, as Vera was breast-feeding him. By then, there weren't any disposable diapers; we had to wash and iron all the cloth diapers; a lot of them! - It took me one full hour to go to work, going home even longer. I tried to change my working hours, but it was difficult. I had to do some work on most weekends.

Vera went back to work, to keep her job and all the benefits with it, but we had to hire a woman to take care of George. Vera left to work early morning, I was waiting at the door by 9 am for the woman to arrive, and then I was able to rush to work. We had a very busy, tiring life. George was our social life and our entertainment.

It was October 1956, when university students protested against depriving people of freedom of expression. They demanded that the Communist Party loosen up the strict censorship; let the opposition voices be heard and allow some freedom of the press. The street protests got out of hand, and soon anti-communist elements infiltrated the crowd. The streets were full of yelling, marching protesters. A group of people opened the jails. Many political prisoners went free. A few days later, they opened the door of every prison. Then the real riots started, against the police, the armed forces, and mostly against the AVO (Secret Police) and high-ranking party officials. The Government changed hands several times. Real street fights with guns and bullets made the daily news. The Red Army agreed with Imre Nagy, the Prime Minister, to leave the country under false pretense, for they left the country at one corner, to return in greater force at another location. The Hungarians could in no way win this uprising. Small firearms against tanks were futile. Lots of people died, or got wounded on both sides, and many buildings were destroyed. Imre Nagy escaped to Romania, but later the new Hungarian Government (chosen by the Red Army) killed him anyway. Looting and revenge reigned. True to Hungarian tradition, graffitis and signs were painted on the walls, saying "we won't take you to Auschwitz," meaning, they will get rid of the Jews before. The Jews were blamed for the atrocities committed by the communist.

It was difficult to find food; very few people went to work. Transportation came almost to a standstill. The border to Austria was open, and people fled by the Thousands. The first to leave were the jail breakers, presenting themselves "Freedom Fighters." Most of them were able to immigrate to USA or other countries.

After a long discussion we decided, that we should leave the country, too. I tried to leave Hungary in December 1948, but the Secret Police of Hungary captured my would-be escort. Vera also had a plan to go to the USA, first as a student, then by an arranged marriage, but it didn't work out. Vera had close relatives in the USA: Kate Roger from her mother's side and Kate's daughter: Suzan Rubin and her family. From Vera's father's side she had Rose Stone and Aranka Weltner and her husband. I had my mother's brother: Alex Weinberger, and from my father's side aunties: Paula and Lena.

We thought, it will be very easy to receive an immigrant visa to the USA, but first we had to flee Hungary. After a very careful investigation, I found a way to leave the country. I wanted to make sure, it would work out. I offered my escape plan to my friend Andrew Mahrer and his wife. With a forged official Travel Document, the Mahrers went to Sopron City, pretending to be on an official business. The city was inside the restricted border zone. From there, a farmer's son took them over the mountain to Austria. They had to climb the mountain all night. This was the safest way. I received the confirmation from them. We never saw them again, but we know they went to England.

Now it was our turn to leave. We didn't say a word to anybody, neither to my father, nor Vera's father. George received the smallpox shot from his doctor. The time was short, we had to pack a few necessary things, mostly for George: clothing, diapers, food and some medication.

The date was December 1st. 1956. We left Budapest by train, where the Border Police checked our documents. We arrived to Sopron, sleeping in a local, very cold office one night. Our escort came, and we started to climb the mountains. It was raining heavily. Our skin was wet, we were very tired, but we forged ahead, and started to descend toward the border.

We were excited to see the Austrian flag about 1/2 kilometer away, when we heard loud talk and laughing. About 20 Hungarian youngsters just came back from Austria, where they spent a few jolly days: eating, drinking and smuggling. At this moment, the Hungarian Border Guards arrived from their hideouts and captured everybody.

We pleaded with an older soldier to let us go, but he was afraid of his comrades. They put everybody on the train, and took us to a building in the city of Gyor. The sign on the outside of the building read, Red Cross, but inside armed soldiers were stationed, as in fact it was a jail. I put the Travel Documents in the pocket of George's winter coat. This was a smart move. They searched us, interrogated me, and took away my Armed Forces Reservist I.D. They told me, that in 48 hours I must report to my Army Unit to serve time in jail for being a military deserter.

Next morning we were on the train back to Budapest, guarded by armed soldiers at both ends of the coach. Arriving home we realized, that George had fever from the smallpox vaccination. We called our family doctor, who gave him some medications. I called my father, who was already looking for us. I told him what happened, but in spite of all, we will have to try it again. He promised, he will help us and will find another way to escape. We had to go to his brother-in-law, Imre's home, who already left the country with his family. We didn't have any money, so I called my next door neighbour, and offered him everything in our apartment for $500. This was less than 10% of the real value, but we didn't have a choice!

My father arranged the escape for Imre before. We shall go with the same escort. The plan was to go to Mosonmagyarovar city with my Travel Documents. The train will stop one kilometer before the train station. Here everybody will get off and run to a farm. In the evening five horse carriages will take us to a point, less than one kilometer from the Austrian border. A short walk between watchtowers, and we will be free. But it didn't happen this way.

By December 7, 1956, we were on our way, and arrived late afternoon at the farm, where George received warm milk and some food. Dark came at six o'clock, when the five carriages arrived. At the same time a dozen Russian soldiers came, and started to round up all those, who wanted to escape, too. Everybody tried to run away; Vera and the baby went hiding under one of the freight trains. I ran in the other direction and hid somewhere else. The Russian soldiers captured many people, put them on four carriages, and took them away. Luckily, the fifth driver was at the end, and was able to run away.

When the soldiers left the farm everybody came out of hiding, not knowing who survived the raid. Vera was crying and calling my name. Such a happy moment to find each other!

The only carriage returned at eight pm. Six women and some children were put on. George had fever and cried a lot. We had to give him a little dose of tranquilizer to make him sleepy and quiet. The rest of the group, about a dozen men marched through the farmer's field in foot-deep mud. Sometimes we had to help the horses to pull and push. It was midnight, and very dark. We heard shooting in the village we have just passed. The owner of the horses didn't want to go any farther, and from here, we had to go on foot until five am! The mud was heavy, and George was heavy, too. We took turns to carry him on our arms, or on my shoulder.

About 4 am, Vera was carrying George, when I fell into a deep ravine, about six feet deep. I strained my ankle very badly, I was lying down, and wasn't able to continue. But I knew, there was no return, and struggled with sharp pain to reach the finish line. We passed between watchtowers with bright lights on the top. The soldier high up was paid not to listen or see anything. In this instant, George woke up saying: Light, Light! It was scary; we had to cover his mouth.

We did it finally! - We were in Austria! The wind started to blow this time towards the West, hopefully to help us! This part of the border was like a bay, deep curve into Hungary. We didn't like the situation; the soldiers were to close to comfort. Everybody went to sleep, but we started to walk further into Austria. We were dead tired, but we wanted to be safe. We were right! A short time later, the Hungarian border patrol crossed over to this bay area, and took everybody back to Hungary. In 30 minutes the Red Cross people stopped us, and supplied us with food and some dry clothing.

Now I could say in retrospect: We were free and ready for the unknown.

The Red Cross transported us to this small village's refugee camp. We found all kinds of people there and straw beds all over the floor. Sanitary conditions were very poor. Openly voiced anti-Semitic remarks were the major topics amongst the Hungarians. This kind of behaviour brought back very sad memories. We wanted to get away from here as soon as possible.

Vera knew a couple from Budapest, Elly and Alex Agoston. They moved to Vienna after the war. They were good friends of Vera's family. We thought, they would be able to help us. I didn't have any Austrian money to make a telephone call. My little German knowledge from the Russian camp was good enough to ask a well-dressed gentleman to help me out. His name was Joseph Schwartz, a chemist, having a pharmaceutical company in Vienna, at Number 13 Am Hoff Street.

He called the Agostons for me at his own expense. Elly was very happy to know that we left Hungary and told me to go to their house as soon as we can. Mr. Schwartz told us to call him, if we will need any help in Vienna.

George was sick, his temperature went higher every hour, had diarrhea and pain in his ears. He didn't want to eat, or drink. We had no place to wash him and to make him comfortable. With the help of the Red Cross, we arrived to Vienna. We called the Agostons, but they were not at home this time. We went then to the Jewish Center, hoping they will help us. It was Saturday; the Sabbath service was in progress. A few Jewish ladies came out of the Synagogue. They were sorry because on Saturday they could not do anything for us. We were hungry, the only food they were able to give us: cold cholent (baked been soup), but nothing for George. We had no place to sleep.

Having no other choice, I called Mr. Schwartz to help us to find a place to stay. He drove us to the outskirts of the city and placed us in a Refugee Camp. It was a very big help. During our stay in Austria, we kept in touch with him. Arriving to Canada, we exchanged cards and letters for the next 25 years informing him about our progress in our new life. Every time he replied, and he was happy, that we didn't forget him. One day replies stopped coming from him. We learned that he passed away.

George was screaming from pain all night. We called for a doctor. When he saw George, he called the ambulance. They took him to the Children's Hospital of Vienna. This was a very good, modern hospital, where he received excellent care. The doctors diagnosed a very bad case of middle ear infection. They treated him and kept him for three weeks.

We left the hospital that day with bleeding heart. Vera couldn't stop crying. The main concern for us was our 20 months old son. We were terribly worried, and felt guilty for leaving our home and bringing a small child with us to the unknown. We had no money, no knowledge of language. To think back, it looked like, we made an irresponsible decision. We were young and we wanted to bring up our only child in a better society with more opportunities, and get away from the Communist Government dictated way of life.

We left Budapest with the only clothes what we had on, no extra and nothing for the winter. The JIAS gave us some, mostly for George. It was December; the city was full of Christmas decorations. The stores were full of beautiful merchandise. It was a very remarkable contrast; to see the rich, clean, beautiful city, full of well-dressed people, in comparison with Budapest, where clear signs of the Second World War and the destruction of the October 1956 uprising prevailed: buildings full with bullet holes, stores with mostly empty shelves, unaffordable prices in the black market and shortages everywhere. We had to buy in Budapest whatever was available, here we could have bought anything, but had no money.

Time proved that we made the right decision in spite of all!

We met a young couple in the camp. They left their only child in Hungary in their grandparents' care. We have a good friend in Canada; they left also without their young child. They had many heartbreaking years until they were able to unite with their child. Leaving our home without George never even crossed our mind!

Next day we went back to the hospital. George was in an isolation room. His head was bandaged. Because of the strict rule of the hospital, visiting was permitted only once a week. We visited him sooner than we were allowed to, but he was moved from his previous room. We were in panic, ran to the nursing station in fright, that something happened to him. There was a young intern, Dr.Lanik, who was in charge of this unit. We found George in another room with 12 little beds. We hardly recognized him. He was still bandaged, and very skinny. He was lost among strangers, who talked to him in German, but he didn't understand them. Crying loudly, he came to our arms. We cried with him!

Dr. Lanik informed us about his condition, and told us, that George will have to stay in the hospital for a few weeks. The hospital will be a better place to take care of him. Dr. Lanik was a very fine man. He saw the worried parents, a refugee family, who needed some help. He told us that his mother was born in Hungary. He left us, but came back shortly after, and invited us for supper to his parent's house.

In his home, he introduced us to his mother, Susan Lanik. They were living in the outskirts of Vienna, Number 16 Hadikgasse. They had a large and beautiful apartment with antique furniture all over the place. Susan greeted us with warm and open heart. She offered us their bathroom to take a shower. She gave Vera some clothing and underwear, promised to wash Vera's clothes and invited us for next day again. We just couldn't believe our luck, finding such nice people, who open up their house for strangers, and see they need help. An elaborate family supper followed. Susan introduced her husband, an engineer, their younger son and her daughter. They also attended medical school.---We were very grateful.

We went to the Lanik's house few more times, she told her life story, and we did ours. We became good friends. From this day on until she died, the next 30 years we exchanged letters, New Year greetings and family pictures. We wrote about our life, George's education. She wrote back long letters, informing us when her youngest son became a doctor, too. We learned, when they got married and had children, also when her husband died. One day we didn't receive reply to our New Years card and letter. We wrote a few more times, but nobody answered. Then we knew, that she died, too. She was 90 years old.

The JIAS (Jewish Immigration Service) did very little to help us. One of the reasons was that we moved out of the official refugee camp on our own, without their approval. Many people lived in good hotel rooms, received money for food, but we were not smart enough to take advantage of the system. The only help they gave us was a small room in a small hotel. I had to fight for this room, too, but we needed a private room to care for our son upon his discharge from the hospital. Our relatives, mostly Vera's, were sending us money to buy food. The daily visit to the USA soup kitchen was a big help. The Agostons invited us for lunch, or supper many times. Elly gave some dresses for alteration to Vera, and she insisted on paying for it.

When George was discharged from the hospital, he was very skinny, but still a beautiful, little boy with lots of curly hair. He didn't talk, and forgot what little he knew. He was very happy to be with us.

We had to provide an affidavit from Vera's aunt, Aranka Weltner to receive the refugee visa from the US Consulate. We sent a telegram and a letter to New York. One little problem became a turning point in our life:---Their address was 9742. The number 7 in Hungary we read as number 1. The number 7 has a vertical crossover line. We thought the address was 9142. They never received our letters, and therefore didn't send any affidavits. I went to shovel the snow at 6 am in front of the USA consulate to be the first in line entering the Registration Office. The answer was every time: "Sorry! We didn't receive anything from your relatives." Maybe this little line on the number SEVEN changed our destiny, and we became Canadians.

In January, the JIAS instructed us to leave the hotel, saying that they are not going to pay the bill anymore and we will have to move to the city of Kornaiburg. This was an old empty army camp. The Finnish Red Cross took care of more than a 1.000 people. Our room housed 24 people, and only one oven to heat. Like in any army camp, the running water was in the hall. Once a week we went to the city bath and paid for one hour bathing facilities. The Agostons came to see us a few times, every time with some food and some toys for George.

Here, in the camp we ate well. To make some extra food for George, we bought a little electric burner. To earn a little money I went to work in a local shoe factory as a designer. I made many trips to Vienna to the USA consulate, to the JIAS office, but we were not any closer to immigrating. In the mean time, waiting was very hard to take, and we became depressed. We didn't have any privacy in the camp. Six months was a long time to wait.

When my father-in-law learned that we left Hungary, he left his home in Dombovar with his wife, Elisabeth and Gabe his son, who was nine years old at that time. The Hungarian border to Austria was already tightly closed, and Yugoslavia was the only way to leave Hungary. They crossed the frozen Drava River. Their situation was much worse, than ours. The Yugoslavian Government accepted them as refugees, but didn't trust them. From Kornaiburg, we helped them with some of the money his sisters were sending us. From time to time, we sent a food parcel, clothes and some USA dollars hidden in the cigarette.

My mother and sister were happy to hear the news that we were out of Hungary. Naturally, they wanted us to go to Israel and unite the family there. They resided in the Kibbutz of Ejn Gev, on the shores of Kineret Lake. My sister Barbara and Asher, her husband were members of the kibbutz. Asher was one of the truck drivers during weekdays, and on Sabbath, he drove the people to the beaches, or other cities. Barbara was working in the garment repair section. My sister's daughters Hannah and Hava attended school, and day camps.

My mother had to work 1/2 days in the kitchen. The kibbutz was well supplied

with all necessary things. In my heart, I wanted to go to Israel. At the same

time I knew, if we immigrated to Israel, I would have been drafted into the army, and for follow up service each year for a month. Being poor in Hungary, I didn't want to face the same hardship again at another location. It did not offer a very appealing future for me and my family.

We decided that we would wait for the USA Visa. It was a hard decision, but time proved us right. My mother and the whole family were very unhappy with our plan, mostly my mother. She was very sad, not having us around her. I didn't see my mother and sister since 1944.

One day Vera went to the Canadian Consulate and registered us to go to Canada. She didn't want to stay in the camp any longer. Her explanation was that we have to start our new life wherever we are. The family is important, but we have to stand on our own feet. I was surprised at her solo decision, but the way our life turned out, this was the best thing that ever happened to us.

The Weltners had relatives in Montreal, Tarnay Kate, who was happy to send us the Affidavit taking full financial responsibility for one year. The short distance between the countries will enable us to see the family in New York.

Because both of us had a trade, we received our Canadian Visa within weeks. Aranka Weltner, Rose Stone and the Kate Roger (Suzy Rubin's mother) bought our airline tickets. A year later, we paid them back, but it was a great help, as we didn't have to wait for the Canadian Government's ship to bring us to Canada.

June 12, 1957 we left Austria with Swissair to Zurich, where we had to wait a few hours while the airplane underwent some repairs. Vera used up every single paper diaper to keep George clean. After a long night, we arrived in New York. Every member of Vera's family was waiting outside the gate, waving and crying Vera was only eight years old when Aranka and Rose, her father's sisters immigrated to the USA. The Rubins received a special permission to delay our connection to Montreal, and for a few hours to go to Ari's house. They lived not far from the airport.

Everybody was very happy. Shower, food and talk were on the agenda. Of course, George was the center of attention. Before we left to the airport to continue our trip to Montreal, the family gave us a wallet with about $US 200 to start our new life in Montreal. It was a sizable amount at that time.