Josef Kalus Awaiting Letter from Immigrants
The following story is taken from the book Dubina, A Place of Freedom and Hope written by Ed and Margie Janecka.
Poet and writer Josef Kalus, a native of Frenstat, Moravia, was the youngest of 14 children; his four eldest sisters and a number of other relatives immigrated to Texas. In his “Memoirs of Stani Bela” he described immigration in 1859. “ ...... When I was four years old, I heard constant talk about nothing but the sea at home. My two eldest married sisters, Johana and Marie, were preparing to leave for America with their families to find a better living. At that time (1859) this was an uncommon event and a brave expedition. The greatest worry was about overcoming “the big puddle” and reaching the other side, because such a voyage on board a sailing ship took whole weeks and sometimes was protracted over long months when progress toward the intended destination was hindered by storms. When my sisters were leaving at last, the greatest fear and laments were about crossing the treacherous sea; they worried about becoming victims of a shipwreck and finding their graves in the waves. For half a year after their departure we talked about nothing but them and the dangerous, ghastly sea opening ominous abysses to engulf and destroy them. It is impossible to communicate the anxiety alternating with tears and sighs that filled our home at that time. My mother in particular succumbed to limitless sorrow and grief, and she was inconsol-able. Once I found her totally broken sitting on the floor of a room where we stored cotton, pressing against her heart a small worn-out shoe left behind by a grandchild, and drenching it with her tears. I burst out crying with her, so that she had a hard job consoling me. Then she ordered me: “You must not say a word to your father and sisters!”
Weeks and months passed without any news from our sisters. My father learned from newspapers about big storms at sea and many sunken ships. “What has become of our dear ones? Have they drowned as well?” We all thought, but nobody dared to pronounce his suspicion. We just went around harried and turning aside to wipe our tears.
After half a year of uncertainty and constant waiting, a letter from America arrived at last. Everyone sighed with relief and exclaimed with joy: “They arrived safely, they are alive!” My father slit the envelope open and took out the letter with a shaky hand. His voice trembled, too, when he started reading: “Our dearest and most beloved parents, brothers and sisters and all our family!” He could not read on, because after these words the room resounded with loud crying, and even my father, a hardy man though he was, tried in vain to hold back tears and one of my elder brothers had to read instead. The letter said, I remember, that they had spent 16 weeks at sea, experienced terrible storms, and often thought that their last hour had come. When they at last came ashore, after immense hardship, they knelt down and warmly praised God for allowing them to set their feet on solid land again. Then our neighbors came and the letter was read over and over again; then it circulated around the village and there was no end to the strange excitement.”
Footprints Of Fayette
Fayette County is one of the most historic counties in Texas. In this weekly feature from the County Historical Commission, a rotating group of writers looks back at local history.