Johnny Kobersky Treasured Coming Home
A Memorial Day tribute to our late neighbor and friend, one of Fayette County’s last WWII veterans who served on the front lines in Germany
By ELAINE THOMAS Special to the Record
John Joseph Kobersky was a man of deep faith, a man who cherished his wife, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and extended family. He was a good steward of the land, a brave soldier and a fine neighbor and friend.
He was born May 13, 1921, and died on April 16, 2021, less than a month before his 100th birthday.
Some years ago, Johnny, as we called him, told me a little about his chaotic early childhood. When I asked him if I could write down his story, he looked off and shrugged his shoulders a little. Then he said, “I guess so. I want people to know that you can start with nothing and have a good life.”
Johnny, whose birth surname was Kazmir, arrived at the doorstep of a childless middle-aged couple named Kobersky west of Holman, Texas, in March 1932. His biological father brought him hoping that the Kobersky’s offer to take the lad would give Johnny a better start in life.
That day when Johnny and his father walked up from a shack on Mullins Prairie to meet Edward and Anna Kobersky, the boy didn’t know what to expect. All he had in the world was an extra pair of pants and a strong character.
Little could 11-year-old Johnny have fathomed that when he walked through the back door of the Kobersky’s old house, he had found his forever home. It was made clear to him that he would be legally adopted, his surname would become Kobersky and his adoptive parents would treat him as if he was their own flesh and blood. In exchange, he would be expected to work hard, mind their rules and look after his adoptive parents.
Johnny said the Koberskys didn’t speak English and he didn’t speak Czech, but it didn’t take him long to adapt the routine of his new life. He not only had a safe, clean place to sleep but probably for the first time in his life, he had adequate food.
The day after Johnny’s arrival, Mr. Kobersky began teaching him how to farm and care for the livestock.
A farmer at heart
In that work, Johnny found his niche and thrived.
As a youngster, though, his life wasn’t all work. Johnny had high praise for the nuns at Pecan School at Holman, especially Sister Ignatius, who taught him to speak and read Czech. Johnny loved learning and was disappointed when he was forced to drop out of school after the seventh grade. His adoptive father was sick and it was Johnny’s responsibility to take over the farm. It was up to him to earn a living for the family.
When Johnny was 16, his adoptive father died. From then on, Johnny ran the farm by him self.
Johnny was drafted in the spring of 1942, the year after the U.S. entered World War II. Three times, he sought a deferment. It was not because he was afraid to fight or didn’t want to defend his country, but because his adoptive mother was very ill and there was no one else to care for her or run the farm. Three times, he was turned down for a deferment, although other families, who also were in need, received them. It was a trying time for the 21-year-old man.
Not too long before, Johnny had met a sparkling young woman with the sweetest smile he’d ever seen at the wedding of one of his adoptive cousins. The young lady, who had just turned 17, was smitten with Johnny, too.
Johnny loved to tell this story (and I quote), “The afternoon I got the letter from Uncle Sam, I got on my horse, Old Billy, and rode 13 miles cross-country to tell my girlfriend, Hazel Lee Doerrich, that I would be leaving for the service. She lived on a farm in the Svetlo community on the far side of Fayette County near Middle Creek. Hazel said maybe we should get married, which was fine with me.”
Wartime wedding bells
So Johnny and Hazel were married at St. Rose of Lima Catholic Church in Schulenburg at 8:30 a.m. on Monday, Nov. 9, 1942, a nice warm day, he always remembered.
Shortly afterward, Johnny sold off all his animals on the farm. His adoptive mother went to stay with Mrs. Hollas in Ammannsville. Mr. Kossa at Ammannsville agreed to work the 75-acre Kobersky farm and Hazel remained with her parents after Johnny shipped out.
He got only one furlough to return home between Nov. 25, 1942, and Sept. 7, 1944, when his battalion received orders for overseas duty. In Germany, he served on the front lines firing a howitzer gun in combat. He wasn’t able to return to Fayette County until New Year’s Day 1946.
I asked him once if he had ever wanted to go back to Germany and retrace his steps.
Johnny stared at me a second and then shook his head.
“When I was in Germany, all I wanted to do was come home.”
And that’s just what Johnny did. I recall him describing how after the war, he would often go hand-in-hand with Hazel to check the cattle in the evening. When John, Barbara, Donald and Marilyn were born, he was elated to bring them home.
Johnny and Hazel weathered hard times and turbulent life events together but, through it all, he was content. That is a state of mind that some people spend their lives seeking and never find.
With Hazel’s help, Johnny also lived up to his commitment to care for his adoptive mother all of her life.
Johnny was kind and a man of integrity. He had a fantastic memory and was an engaging storyteller.
Appreciating his place
As a lifelong farmer, Johnny had a soft spot for his animals, many of whom he called “Baby.” The day before he died, Johnny was sitting outside in his wheelchair with the sun warming his weary body. A quilt covered his legs. I waved as I walked by, but I don’t think he saw me.
Johnny’s tired, old eyes were focused on a patch of bluebonnets in the pasture in front of him. Peeking out above the flowers were four tiny black heads - his first new calves of 2021.
What pleasure and satisfaction that must have given him; he had weathered another harsh winter and lived to embrace another spring.
Through a truly noble expression of love and devotion by Hazel and his children and their spouses, plus special caregivers and hospice, Johnny never had to leave his Holman home even in later life.
And, after a life well lived, Johnny left this world a better place than he found it. He also passed along an enduring example of what it means to live a good life.
Postscript Observation
When the hearse carrying Johnny Kobersky pulled out from Saint Wenceslaus Catholic Church on Sat., April 24, 2021, onto FM 155 in southern Fayette County, 30 or 40 cars followed it. There’s constant traffic on that narrow, two-lane state highway that winds up hills and down around corners.
Drivers took note of the motorcade because funeral processions are not as common as they once were in rural Texas. Oftentimes internments take place in the cemetery next to the church or cremations take place.
Less than a mile from the church, a truck pulled over on the side of the road and stopped. A little further along, another pulled into a driveway and turned on its flashers. That reverence was replayed over and over as the procession traveled the eight miles to Weimar and turned right on Hwy. 90.
Near the Interstate 10 overpass, an oncoming 18-wheeler also stopped on the side of the road. He might have had a busy day, but he wasn’t too busy to pause for several moments. As we entered Schulenburg, two drivers pulled off the highway, stopping about a block apart. Then each got out of his truck and stood with his ball cap over his heart until the entire procession had passed by.
At Schulenburg’s busy intersection of US Hwy. 77 and State Hwy. 90, law enforcement didn’t hold back the traffic. Instead, in both directions, pickup trucks waiting for the light to change refused to budge when it turned green. They held back the busy north-south stream of vehicles behind them to ensure all the cars in the procession could stay together en route to the Schulenburg City Cemetery.
It was certainly food for thought because some days our world seems very impersonal, sadly lacking in compassion and understanding. However, the respect paid by these drivers demonstrated that goodness is engrained in the hearts of many of our neighbors and even strangers traveling through Fayette County.
Johnny Kobersky would have appreciated the sincerity of these heartfelt personal gestures; it’s something he would have done.