A Little Background: Growing Up in Tennessee

Growing up in a small town in Tennessee was exciting to me. Neighborhood families were always watching out for one another. Doors were never locked. Walking home in the dark was not frightening. Children didn’t have to be warned about strangers.

As an only child I had playmates such as: B.D., G.A., Tight-Eye and Acorn Head. Football, marbles, hide-and-seek, and especially mumblety-peg were everyday games that drew the boys together. A childhood friend back in those days lasted forever. We had homes near the southern railroad tracks and every train that passed by shook our houses. The lonely train engine whistles coming from far away alerted us that a freight or passenger train was due very shortly. Walking along the railroad tracks, crossing the nearby railroad bridge that crossed the Emery River and picking wild Muscadine added to our adventures.

One of my favorite adventures was walking up to grandpa's farm on Oakdale Mountain. It was only one and half miles away from my house but as I look back it seemed like several miles to my short legs. My memories of those days included hearing the locals who had homes near grandpa. They spoke a strange language among themselves and a distinct different dialect among the southern-drawled outsiders. I was one of those who had a southern drawl and wondered why those folks sounded different.

Later in life I learned that those folks on the mountain were immigrants from a far-away country called Austro-Hungary. Not knowing where that was I often wondered how they got to Oakdale mountain. As I got older I was told grandpa had come from Czechoslovakia and that my heritage was Czechoslovakian. This was never mentioned during my many, many visits to the farm of my grandfather. Only after grandpa died and all his children had left for other areas did I learn of this connection.

After high school I joined the air force and traveled to Germany for a four-year tour of duty. This was in 1949 and even though I wanted to visit this land near Czechoslovakia, my hopes were dashed when I found out that it was located behind the Iron Curtain and controlled by the Russians. Entry by me would be forbidden.

I finished my twenty years in the Air Force and still found it impossible for me to visit the land of my roots. Long forgotten and twenty-five years later I decided it was time to start a search for my heritage.

Checking with several first cousins located in Indiana and Tennessee I soon discovered that none of them knew much about our heritage. At this point I decided it was time to get deep into a research system.