I took the last couple weeks off from posting. During that time, I’ve been reflecting on the research I’ve done over the past 7 months, since I started Opapa Research. I’ve also made a tentative plan for how I want to move forward, now that my sabbatical (and the summer) are, sadly, over.
So first, a look back:
I started Opapa research in late January, at the beginning of my sabbatical. I wasn’t sure how to begin — or when! — until I started rifling through my grandfather’s scanned documents and found a journal entry he wrote in May 1944. At the time, Opapa was 24 years old, and a refugee: he had fled his homeland, Hungary, five years earlier, in 1939. By May 1944, Opapa had joined the U.S. Army was training to be a paratrooper. He was eager to fight the Nazis.
As he waited to be deployed, he wrote the following lines:
"I have started writing “big projects” before. That’s why I feel [a] little self-conscious to start again. Will I go on? Will it become something worth losing a little added sleep, or reading far? In the past I’ve stopped because 1) I felt too lazy; 2) wrote letters instead; 3) felt that there were more immediate things to be done."
I don’t know what “big project” Opapa was referring to in his journal entry — was it the war? Was it a writing project? Our lives were very different, but despite it all, I identified with the lines in his journal: I had also started “big projects” before. And I was nervous about this one — a personal research project about my grandfather’s life. I’d been dreaming about writing it for almost two decades, since my grandfather died in 2005 with a half-written autobiography. But I was filled with self-doubt: Would I go on? Would my idea become anything worthwhile?
I still don’t know, but reading about Opapa’s fears gave me a place to start. It also showed me a side of Opapa I never really saw: he was unsure of himself, and hoped he would be able to complete a “big project.” The Opapa I remember was always self-confident, and always seemed to know the answers. It was exciting to feel like I would be able to discover a different part of him through research.
The feeling of fellowship with my grandfather inspired my first post, and helped me to kick off my own “big project” of Opapa Research.
Since then, my research has generally followed a few different “storylines” into a few different chronological periods:
World War II (1944-1945): I started my research in May 1944, with Opapa’s journal entry about his “Big Project”, and moved forward from there. Using Opapa’s diary entries as a guide, I wrote about the books he read while waited to be deployed, and about low morale during military training. Based on his letters, I was able to describe Opapa’s thoughts about the Purpose of War. Later, I discovered that he edited a regimental newspaper called the Static Line during this period. I also wrote about how Opapa joined the OSS, and did some background research on the history of OSS and the location of OSS training camps. I then followed my grandfather across the Atlantic through the straits of Gibraltar to Oran, Algeria, and several OSS training camps in North Africa. I tried to decipher Opapa’s OSS coding notes, and then followed him across the Mediterranean to Italy, where the Allies had retaken most of the Italian peninsula. In Italy, frustrated that he had not yet been able to fight, Opapa requested transfer to Special Intelligence (SI), along with Frederick Mayer and three other Jewish refugees. Once in SI, Opapa was able to engage in more meaningful activities: he interviewed a Hungarian POW, completed further training in Bari, and finally, in February 1945, he parachuted into enemy territory. Unfortunately, the pilots dropped him in the wrong location — instead of Austria, he ended up in a snow-capped region of Slovenia, surrounded by retreating Germans, as well as Chetniks and Partisans. Fortunately, he was able to find a band of Slovene Partisans, and he lived and fought with them until the end of the war. At some point, he met a Slovene man named Lovse Ivan, and they stayed in touch after the war. I learned more about this mission when I was able to visit the National Archives in August, where I found the OSS folders about Opapa’s mission (Operation Dania) as well as Opapa’s radio code name (Gila). Opapa receieved a Bronze Star for the mission.
Post-WWII OSS Missions (May-August 1945): After the war, Opapa started a new mission in Salzburg, Austria, arresting Hungarian war criminals. It was one of the most triumphant experiences of his life, particularly when he arrested former Hungarian Prime Minsiter Béla Imrédy, whose anti-Semitic policies had prompted Opapa to flee Hungary in 1939. Imrédy was later tried and executed for war crimes, and Opapa kept of a photo of himself escorting a handcuffed Imrédy off the military plane in Budapest. I remember Opapa talking about arresting Imrédy, but it wasn’t until I discovered Opapa’s diary from May 1945 that I realized he had also arrested or extradited dozens of others, including Ferenc Kassai Schallmayer, Gábor Kemény, Mihály Kolesváry-Borcsa, and Sándor Olaszy — among many others. From Salzburg, Opapa then traveled to Trieste though alpine mountain passes to take part in another OSS mission to Trieste, where he reported on ethnic and political tensions in the city, and departed on a secret mission to Slovenia, where I am *pretty sure* he was arrested, along with his OSS partner, Bob Perry (whose real name, I later discovered, was Rade Plan).
Árpád Gerbner (1884-1944): In summer 1945, Opapa received a devastating letter from his mother, informing him that his father, Árpád Gerbner, had been deported by the Nazis the previous year (I later found an English version of the same letter in the OSS Records at the National Archives). Soon thereafter, my grandfather was transferred back to Budapest, where he was part of the American Mission. His return to his hometown was triumphant and heart-wrenching: he had arrested the most prominent Hungarian war criminals, but his father had disappeared. Opapa wrote about the experience the following year in an incredibly moving, semi-ficionalized short story called “Inherit the Earth.” I spent several days reflecting on the story, speculating about which parts were true, and thinking about how Opapa’s feelings about his father’s disappearance changed over time. I also wanted to solve the mystery of what happened to Árpád, since Opapa was never able to find any records. So I did my own research, and — to my surprise — found a newly digitized record that stated that Árpád was murdered on August 15, 1944. I then tried to place this date into the context of the Holocaust in Hungary, from rising anti-Semitism to the German invasion to the creation of yellow-star houses and mass deportation. It was really depressing. Eventually, I decided to focus my research on Árpád’s life, rather than his death. I discovered that the two of us shared a lot of interests: he was a teacher who wrote textbooks; he published an academic article on linguistics, and he wrote books, including an unfinished manuscript about the “Spirit of Human Intelligence” that he was working on when he died. It was emotional research, but I felt like I emerged with a deep sense of appreciation for my great-grandfather, and his ever-curious mind.
Pre-war Hungary (1930s) & Hungarian Folklore: I also looked closer at my grandfather’s upbringing, including his Jewish heritage — which I did not know about growing up — and his love of Hungarian folklore: he spent the happiest summers of his youth living with the Palóc people in northern Hungary, where he collected folk songs and learned to play the zither. In his free time, he wrote poetry. I also researched Opapa’s high school, Eötvös József Gimnázium, where the yearbook listed him as an “Izraelita.” Opapa was a top student, and won a national prize for literature, but he was only accepted to University after a publicized struggle against the anti-Semitic quotas of the 1930s.
Escape from Fascist Hungary (1939): In 1939, Opapa fled Hungary. The rest of his family — his parents and his younger brother — stayed behind. His mother was furious that he left, while his father felt there was no future for him in Hungary, and gave him fatherly advice in his letters. I knew it was a difficult journey, but it was only after I started my research that I realized how incredibly lucky Opapa was to make it to the United States: he departed Budapest on April 7, 1939 — the same day that the Italian army invaded Albania. Traveling with his zither, he stopped first in Venice (where I spent my 40th birthday and studied the history of the Venetian ghetto) and then went to Florence, before entering France on a two-week visa. Opapa’s plans were so complicated that it took me several weeks to figure out which ship he took across the Atlantic. He had no money, and was only able to get a ticket, and a visa to Mexico, thanks to the help of Ethel Troper, a Hungarian-American woman who was married to the chairman of Joint, a Jewish Humanitarian organization. Finally, in May 1939, Opapa departed on the S.S. Flandre, where his table companion was a Spanish Loyalist General, fleeing the Franco regime. Getting the ticket, however, was only half the battle: over 100 Jewish refugees on Opapa’s ship were refused entry to Cuba and Mexico. They were deported back to Europe, where many died in the Holocaust. Opapa was able to disembark thanks to the kindness of a stranger. In Mexico, he became a tour guide for Americans — despite the fact that he knew very little Spanish. He also sent telegrams to his family in Hungary and spent time in Mexico City, where he was neighbors with Leon Trotsky and Frida Kahlo during the summer of 1939. Quite an odyssey. And I haven’t quite gotten to his actual arrival in the U.S., where he re-united with his half-brother Laslo Benedek! (I’ll be covering that in the next few weeks.)
A few observations, as I complete my reflection:
I’ve done a lot of research! And a lot of writing!
I love this project.
There’s so much more to do!! Seriously. I’ve barely covered 4 years of my grandfather 86-year life. It’s tempting to go down all of the rabbit holes, but I also need to keep moving.
So, what now? I’m at a turning point this week: my sabbatical is over, and the new semester has started. I don’t have to teach this fall, but I do have other work I will need to do: how can I do that, while also continuing my Opapa research?
Here is my plan: I want to post 2x/week, normally on Tuesdays and Thursdays (though this week it will be Weds/Fri). This will allow me to do the research I love about Opapa, while also staying on top of my other commitments.
Moving forward, I will be focusing on the following themes and topics I haven’t covered yet:
Arrival in the US (1940-1943): I’ve written a lot about my grandfather’s upbringing in Hungary, and his escape from fascist Hungary in 1939. But I haven’t written about his arrival in the United States, and the three years that followed — before he joined the US Army. This period is a mystery to me (Opapa never really talked about it), and I’m excited to learn about it.
Ilona Kutas: I’ve written a few posts about my grandmother, Ilona Kutas, an Austro-Hungarian actress who was an important figure in my childhood. I recently discovered (while doing this research) that she, like my grandfather, was also Jewish. My grandparents met in Budapest after the war, and had a whirlwind romance that I haven’t written much about, but I will turn to it in the coming months. I just spent the last few weeks photographing and organizing hundreds of photos from the Gerbner family archive, including their early letters, photos, and other memorabilia.
Postwar Politics and McCarthyism (1947-1953): After the war, my grandfather arrived back in the US a second time — this time, accompanied by his new wife, Ilona Kutas. In the following years, he became very politically engaged in the Wallace campaign in ‘48. A few years later, during the height of the McCarthy era, he was accused of Communist leaning and fired from his job in Pasadena, California. I want to understand what happened, and I’ve submitted FOIA requests for his FBI files (there are several hundred pages). Unfortunately, the wait time for these documents is 39 months (!).
Media and Communication: I’m really excited to get to Opapa’s actual research on media and society, including his development of cultivation theory — a theory I have thought about a lot, especially in the last eight years, as the media environment has changed so drastically around us.
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Nuts to crack:
Well, not really a “nut to crack,” but I’m curious to hear what topics and themes others are interested in. Any wishes for future posts??
What a great summary! I will be able to refer to it often, rather than going through many posts from January to August to refresh my memory on various topics from this time period.
This recap is magnificent! It’s art in its own right. So is the work itself. I’ve loved learning from and alongside you and watch this all unravel over time. So much more fun to be part of the process (from the outside) than just have you recap everything in clean conclusions.
Not a specific topic or direction, but I can’t wait to see the recurring themes and inter-decade connections as you move on to the post-war part of his life. Opapa was always so grounded in principle, and so much of his early years comes back (or never left) in his later years, so I’m excited to see you pull those thematic threads.
Also I’m obviously excited about the media part :)