VISITING
AUTHOR/EDITOR ARTICLE
DECEMBER
2010
Maria’s Memoirs - Short
Stories from my Youth
By Maria Bappert, Chicago
Adventures
of the Girl from Weindorf
Forwarded
From St. Louis Donauschwaben
Yes, “Weindorf” means “Wine Village.” It is
located on the southern outskirts of the Carpathian Mountains,
and Budapest and the Danube River are beautifully visible from
the edge of the town. The slopes of the mountains made it a
perfect scenario to grow grapes. Most of the villagers were
very proficient in the art of growing grapes and making wines.
If my memory serves me correct, the wine industry was
introduced to the region by the Romans as they conquered many
lands in Europe during their heydays. Well, we are grateful to
you! As a matter of fact, on one of our visits to Hungary we
found out that a Roman administration center was located just
outside of present-day Budapest. The complex was excavated and
can be viewed. Some of the artifacts from the Roman occupation
are displayed in an underground tunnel near the station where
we caught the bus going to Weindorf when we toured Hungary a
number of years ago. If you are into antiquities, this is a
sight to behold.
Csolnok,
the village that my father came from (it’s located near
Estergom), also had a great wine industry. As I mentioned
before, during the summer months my father, Josef Putz, would
take me along when he took the horse and wagon to his home
town where we picked up a supply of coal for the winter months
and we stayed with his family. His father, Michael Putz, was a
wealthy man. He had a big beautiful house and owned quite a
bit of land, including some vineyards. His first wife had
died, and his second wife was a midwife by profession. When
one of his kids got married, he built them a house as a
wedding present! Wow! The family had several servants who
worked in various capacities, one of whom was the maid who
served us dinner and beverages. On one such occasion, she had
put a bottle of wine on the table, and my grandfather poured
me a half a glass of wine. We waited for the maid to bring a
bottle of “Sprudelwasser” (seltzer water) from the cellar
so that we could add it to our wine, which is the way we used
to drink it (even us little kids); however, when she didn’t
come with the seltzer water, I was so thirsty that I just
drank my wine without the water.
About twenty years ago, various “wine coolers”
became very popular in the US, and everyone thought it was
such a novel idea. Well … our people did that many, many
years ago.
On Sunday mornings, there was this definite routine
which was observed by the families in Csolnok. Since the main
cooked meal was always served at noon, the women went to the
early Mass, and the men went to the later Mass. I got to go to
church with my Opa (probably to get me out of Oma’s way) and
I was in for a special surprise! The priest also happened to
be a relative of mine by the name of Reichenbach, and after
Mass the men met in the sacristy and discussed whose wine they
were going to taste before returning home to eat. Once they
decided who was going to host the wine tasting, the group,
including Fr. Reichenbach, went to the wine cellar which was
usually built into the side of the mountains which were in the
area and where the temperature was wonderfully cool during the
summer months. Our host poured the wine for his guests,
including a small glass for the young visitor from Weindorf.
After having lived in the US for a while, I came to the
conclusion that this was the Hungarian version of the
“cocktail” or “happy hour.” Then it was time to go
home for a delicious lunch and more wine.
One summer (I must have been 5 or 6 years old at the
time) when I got to spend time with my grandparents in Csolnok
there was a lot of excitement going on in the village. Someone
grabbed my hand and dragged me along to the center of town
where a lot of people were assembled. There was a great deal
of excitement in the air as people were gathered around a
large round wooden barrel which was set on some stones or
other supports (I don’t recall this part of it), and from
where I was standing I could not really see what was inside
this wooden container until … yipes! … someone had lifted
me up and virtually threw me into the barrel. It scared the
hell out of me because I landed inside the barrel which was
filled with a lot of red grapes, at least 6" high or so,
and low and behold, there were other kids in there already,
and they were all stomping the grapes! I quickly recovered
from my initial shock of being thrown into the barrel, lifted
my skirt, and started stomping the grapes too. Good grief, I
hadn’t even washed my feet! Of course, it was very common
for people to walk around barefoot in the village. As you can
see, I just loved visiting my relatives in Csolnok!
Russians invade our wine cellar! I was back home in
Weindorf, and the Russians had made themselves comfortable in
various houses in the village. The year was 1944. My parents
owned a combination dry goods and grocery store, which my
mother had inherited from her parents. Of course it included a
cellar where things that needed to be kept cold were stored.
On one occasion there were three or four Russian soldiers who
came into the store and demanded to know where our wine was
kept. (They did have a reputation for liking vodka and all
kinds of alcohol and were also known to cause all kinds of
nasty problems when they had too much to drink.) Not wanting
any trouble, they were directed to the cellar. They picked one
of the barrels and poured themselves what they thought was
white wine. They waited until everyone had a glass in their
hand, made a toast and drank a bit of VINEGAR! Well, there was
a great deal of cussing going on in that cellar. Luckily, they
did not take any kind of revenge on us as they did find the
correct barrel. Let’s face it … not all wine turned out
good and sometimes we did have some sour wine, but most of it
was pretty good. Prost! We drink to your good health!
02/24/13
