THE VOICE OF INTERNATIONAL LITHUANIA
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Rimgaudas P. Vidziunas aka "Rim", at Scorpion Bay Marina,
Lake Pleasant, Arizona.
Rimgaudas "Rim" Vidziunas
Owner of Photography by Rimgaudas, Mesa, Arizona
Creator of "Images and Imagination"
This is Rimgaudas' brief autobiography and photo album, from his birth in a German camp for displaced Lithuanians in 1947, fleeing westward with his family until he ended up in Arizona, USA. His story is similar to those of many other Lithuanian-American children who were born while their parents fled Stalin's Red Army. Rim has been back in his parents' homeland and do much to keep the memory alive. Still it is with a certain soreness he answers NO when I ask if he ever heard from the Lithuanian authorities. Not a single letter, no phone call from the home country's leaders. No one from home has told Rim and many other refugee children that they are loved by the ancestral homeland, that they are welcome back now that the communism yoke is lifted off. It seems, unfortunately, that today’s Lithuanian leadership has not done much to restore contact with this most valuable of all resources, namely its own people around the globe.
Here is his story...
My father Juozas Vidziunas escaped Pramedziava, Lithuania during the Soviet invasion of 1941. He went to Germany and there he studied Medicine at the University of Heidelberg. Juozas met Salomeja while he was a student. My mother, Salomeja worked as a hostess at a US Army USO club after the war in Germany. They were given a visa to go to the United States in 1949.
Parents did not talk about their escape from Lithuania to Germany.
I was born in 1947, and when I was two were allowed to come to the U.S. We came here with the ship USS General Sturgis, a US Army troop carrier. After dropping off troops in Germany it would carry refugees back to the United States. We left Bremen Germany, arriving Port of New Orleans 13 March 1949.
The Army Red Cross gave us each $5.00 US dollars and boarded us on a train bound to Los Angeles, California. We were met by my father's brother Juonas Vidziunas and cousin Daiva. We lived with them till 1952 and departed for Chicago, Illinois. Several years later we moved to a small farming community Lexington, Illinois about 120 miles southwest of Chicago. I graduated high school from Lexington, was Senior Class President and graduated University of Miami, Florida, BA History, January 1970.
I returned to the Midwestern United States upon graduation. My love of photography began. On a trip to Arizona in 1974, I fell in love with the desert and moved to Arizona in 1978. I continue my art of photography to this day.
My parents never talked much about Lithuania other than my grandfather Petras was a land owner and was deported to Siberia. Father did stay in contact with a younger brother and four sisters that remained in Lithuania. I vacationed in Lithuania 1999 and 2002 and was told I "speak Lithuanian with an American accent"
My love for photography
I was eleven years old when I snapped my first pictures of my German Sheppard with a Kodak Brownie box camera. In the darkroom, magically, images appeared, literally right before my eyes—my passion for photography was born. I had captured a special moment in time and preserved its images, as I had perceived them.
Perhaps it's my ancestral calling, as my family's history is rooted in Lithuania where my name, Vidziunas, has the Latin root “is-vysti” which means "to see more clearly with perception." My Lithuanian tribal ancestors worshipped nature, believed in fairies, wood nymphs and devils; and always obeying the god of thunder, Perkunas.
As a resident of Arizona for over thirty-three years, I've immersed myself in capturing its diverse landscape and natural wonders. By combining my unique perception, images and imagination with the basic principles of abstraction, composition, subject matter, and texture, my photography has developed a distinct style all its own. Browse some of my recent images of Historic Route 66 on Arizona Highway’s Blog.
Whatever my subject or inspiration is, thank you for enjoying Images and Imagination Photography by Rimgaudas. As a member of the Professional Photographers of America, AZ HDR Photography Group, AZ Photographers Group and an ever-developing fine art photographer/photojournalist, I encourage feedback and questions regarding my creative work. Please feel free to join me on LinkedIn, http://www.flickr.com/photos/rimgaudas/, or http://Facebook.com/PhotographybyRimgaudas.
Email rvidziunas@yahoo.com.
Thank you for enjoying my “images and imagination”.
My Parents, Salomeja and Juozas Vidziunas
on their Wedding Day in Lithuania
I was born Rimgaudas Daumantas Petras Vidziunas, in a Lithuanian displaced person’s camp,
Stetten im Remstal, Germany, 9 April 1947
On the ship USS General Sturgis heading for America, Rimgaudas, Salomeja Vidziunas, Rim being fed orange by an unidentified passenger. We were given oranges to eat to prevent scurvy.
Center Salomeja Vidziunas, right Rimgaudas Vidziunas, topside USS General Sturgis
Rimgaudas and cousin Daiva Vidziunas. My first home, Santa Monica, California, 1950
My first portrait, Rimgaudas Vidziunas, Santa Monica, California, 1951
Rimgaudas P. Vidziunas, Photographer
Rimgaudas, Superstition Mountains, Arizona
Banner from the website http://www.wttw.com/main.taf?p=1,7,1,1,26
By Frank Passic, Albion, Michigan.
When Lithuania came under Russian control in 1795, the Russians did all they could to “Russify” the Lithuanians, but they were continually met with stiff opposition. During the last half of the 19th Century, oppression increased as parochial schools were closed and Lithuanian printed matter was forbidden. Repressive measures were forced upon the people by the Czar, adding to the misery of the Lithuanian nation which already suffered from famine and mass unemployment.
As a result, thousands of Lithuanians fled their homeland in the late 19th and early 20th centuries prior to World War I. Emigration to America eventually totaled 635,000 individuals, approximately 20 percent of the population of Lithuania! Lithuanians arrived at Ellis Island impoverished, penniless, and unable to speak the English language but full of hope – the hope of freedom, a new life and unlimited opportunity.
Helping the Lithuanian immigrant was the Brooklyn Chapter of the Lithuanian Alliance of America, which gave aid to those at Ellis Island. The Brooklyn Lithuanian-American Citizens Club held a special conference in May of 1911 to plan a strategy for helping those who were scheduled for deportation back to Lithuania. The No. 4 issue of Tevyne (1896) stated, “At present, masses of Lithuanian emigrants are arriving in New York. Every ship from Hamburg brings tens and hundreds of Lithuanians. Many are sent back and the Alliance’s Brooklyn Chapter is working its hardest for the good of those poor peoples…”
In general, the immigrants stayed in New York only briefly, then moved westward to Pennsylvania, where they found employment building railroads and working the coal mines. Numerous Lithuanian organizations, newspapers, and societies were organized in Pennsylvania. These served as the prelude to those that were to be established later in Chicago as Lithuanian immigrants moved westward. Many Chicago societies were actually branches of those that were first established in Pennsylvania.
The first group of Lithuanians came to Chicago in 1870, when eighteen men arrived with a railroad crew. Because of its central location with industry and development, Chicago became the goal of the thousands of impoverished Lithuanian immigrants seeking a new life. Groups of Lithuanians came in 1880 and 1885, with the first colony being established on the North side of the city. After that, the influx of Lithuanians to Chicago grew at an enormous rate. It is estimated that between 1880 and 1914 more than 47,000 Lithuanians settled in the city, congregating in the Bridgeport and Town of Lake districts. By 1923, the Lithuanian population had grown to over 90,000, confirming the fact that Chicago contained the largest Lithuanian population of any city in the world, even more than Kaunas, Lithuania.
According to one story, the Bridgeport section, where many Lithuanians settled, was supposedly named after a Lithuanian immigrant from Tilsit (East Prussia/ Lithuanian Minor) named Ansas Portas. Portas owned land on the south side of the Chicago River at a bridge crossing, and people referred to the area as the “bridge to Portas,” which was later changed to Bridgeport. The Bridgeport section served as the nucleus of the Lithuanian community from the early years of immigration to Chicago through the era of World War I.
Due to the difficulty they had in obtaining jobs, Lithuanian immigrants began to settle around the stockyards where work was available in the slaughterhouses and steel mills. By World War I, approximately 25 percent of the ethnic work force in the industries was Lithuanian, and it is estimated that a total of 100,000 Lithuanians worked in the stockyards in Chicago during their existence. The grim and horrible conditions Lithuanian workers faced there were the theme of the classic novel, The Jungle (1906) by Upton Sinclair.
The Lithuanian contribution to the city of Chicago is significant in several ways. First, it provided the city with an added labor base upon which the city’s industries grew and prospered. Second it accelerated the building of ethnic neighborhoods, adding to the distinctive variety found in the city’s cultural life. Third, it spurred the formation of new businesses and more affluence.
The Union Stockyards were at one time a significant employer of Chicago's
Lithuanian community. Upton Sinclair's 1906 novel The Jungle, revolves around the life of a Lithuanian immigrant working
the Stockyards named Jurgis Rudkus.
The Lithuanian immigrants to Chicago frequently made their habitats close to the Catholic churches, which gave them a certain moral and material support. The first waves of Lithuanian immigrants associated with already established Polish parishes. However, as the Lithuanian national consciousness became stronger and friction with the Poles increased, a large number of conflicts and disputes arose between and Lithuanians who were members of the same parish. The main area of conflict centered around the question of whether Lithuanian or Polish would be the language of sermons and confessions.
These disputes became severe and even violent. The press of the day frequently reported these incidents in public newspapers. For example, in 1877 in Shenandoah, Pennsylvania, the Lithuanian church members barricaded themselves in the church and would not allow the Polish pastor to enter. In Freeland, Pennsylvania in 1894, a fight ensued between Lithuanian and Polish parishioners, in which the participants exchanged revolver shots, several persons were wounded, and the police had to intervene. As many of these Lithuanian immigrants moved west to Chicago, they were determined to establish their own parishes, independent of Polish influence.
Despite many handicaps, early Lithuanian immigrants did establish their own native-language parishes, newspapers, societies, businesses, taverns, and organizations, all of which contributed to the emergence of the ethnic Lithuanian in American society. Many of these early societies, which have long since disappeared, issued small token “chips” which were good for a purchase at the particular establishment. These tokens are a lasting memento of the early history of the Lithuanian immigrant to the city of Chicago. They are a reminder of the bond of national identity that caused people to band together in fraternal organizations as they adjusted to their new life in America.
The collection of Lithuanian American society tokens presented here was originally assembled by the late Dr. Alexander M. Rackus (1893-1965), himself an immigrant who came to Chicago. A member of the American Numismatic Association, Rackus served as historical/numismatic curator of the Vytautas the Great Museum in Kaunas, Lithuania, 1936-1940. A listing of his Chicago lodge tokens appeared in the November, 1948 issue (No. 4) of the American-Lithuanian Philatelic Specialist, which Dr. Rackus published in Chicago after the War. However, the collection mysteriously disappeared over the years and was feared lost. In September of 1979 it was discovered in a small box behind some shelves in a closet, in the archives of the Balzekas Museum of Lithuanian Culture (which had purchased Dr. Rackus’ collection just prior to his death) at its original location at 4012 Archer Avenue in Chicago. In the same box were also early Lithuanian society tokens from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and Brooklyn, New York. Since that discovery, the collection has been cataloged, photographed and placed on permanent exhibit at the Museum at its present location at 6500 S. Pulaski Rd. in Chicago.
As the reader will discover, these small tokens display various inconsistencies, spelling errors, and poor grammar. Many of the spelling variances are due to the heavy Polish influence under which the Lithuanians tried to establish their own separate identity. Though the Lithuanian written language was being purged of Polish influence, that influence still shows up on many of these tokens. For example, the Lithuanian letter “s” which is “sh” in English, comes out as a Polish “sz” on the text of some of the tokens. The word “Lietuvos,” meaning “Lithuanian,” comes out as a Polish influenced “Lietuwiszku,” or with other variances. In addition, in the Lithuanian language there is no letter “w,” but the letter “v” is used. Yet the letter “w” shows up on numerous tokens. These are just a few of the many interesting “problems” which occur on these tokens.
1935 photo of Dr. Alexander M. Rackus (1893-1965) who originally assembled the
collection cataloged here.
The following is a catalog of Lithuanian society tokens of Chicago with historical notes on the societies that issued them.
1. Society of Saint George the Knight
Aluminum,
26 mm.
Obverse inscription: DR-TE SZV. IURGIO R. ir K. CHICAGO, ILL. With dotted line
border.
Full meaning: Draugiste Szvento Jorgio Riderio ir Kankinio
Translation: Society of Saint George the Knight and Martyr.
Reverse: A large cipher 5 in the center, encircled by 16 five pointed stars.
In 1881 several Lithuanian families settled in the area around Noble Street and attended the nearby Polish churches. Wishing to establish their own independent Lithuanian language society, the Society of St. George the Knight was founded in 1884 as the first Lithuanian organization in Chicago. However, several of its members moved elsewhere, and the group disbanded. In March of 1891 the society was revived, and in 1892 the first Lithuanian Roman Catholic church in Chicago was built at the corner of Auburn (now Lituanica) Avenue, at 33rd Street. The first parish priest was Father Valentinas Cizauskas, who raised funds for the structure. The wooden church was erected in 1892 under the direction of Father Jurgis Kolesinkis.
St. George’s Church, the first Lithuanian Roman Catholic Church in Chicago.
This brick structure was erected in 1902 during the pastorate of Father
Mateusas Kriauciunas.
A relief of St. George the Knight slaying the dragon guards the entranceway to
St. George’s Church.
Fund raisers at St. Michael’s Church pose for a portrait in 1916.
2. Society of Saint Stephen
Aluminum,
double oval, 15 x 19mm. Beaded border.
Obverse inscription DRAUGISTE SZVENTO STEPONO.
Translation: Society for Saint Stephen.
Reverse: GOOD FOR 5¢ IN TRADE, encircled by a beaded border.
The St. Stephen Lithuanian Society was organized in December 16, 1905.
3. Society of St. Michael The Archangel No. 2
Aluminum,
26mm. Dotted border.
Obverse inscription: DR. SV-TOM-LO ARKANIOLO NO. 2.
Full meaning: Draugiste Szvento Mykolo Arkaniolo No. 2.
Translation: Society for Saint Michael the Archangel No. 2.
4. Society of All Saints
Aluminum,
octagonal. 25 x 27mm. Dotted border on obverse.
Obverse inscription: DR-TES VISU SZVENTU KOWOS 17d 1906
Full meaning: Draugistes Visu Szventu Kowos 17 diena 1906.
Translation: Society of All Saints, March 17th day, 1906.
Reverse: A large cipher 5, surrounded by a beaded border.
The All Saints parish was founded in the Roseland section of Chicago in 1906.
5. Knights of the Lithuanian King Mindaugas
Aluminum,
25mm. Beaded border both sides.
Obverse inscription: K. L. K. MINDAUGIO PRIE PARAP SZW. JURGIO K.
Full meaning: Kareiviai Lietuvos Karaliaus Mindaugio Prie Parapijos Szwento
Jurgio Kareiwio
Translation: Knights of the Lithuanian King Mindaugas at Saint George the
Knight Parish.
This society, one of several growing out of the St. George’s parish, is thought
to have issued this token around 1906.
6. Society of Saint Prince Casimir
Aluminum,
26mm. Dotted both sides.
Obverse inscription: DR. TE. SV. K. KAZIMERIA 5¢
Full meaning: Draugiste Svento Karalacio Kazimiero 5¢
Translation: Society of Saint Prince Casimir
Reverse: The reverse is blank, except for the dotted border.
On October 24, 1886, twelve Lithuanians met at 668 Noble Street, and founded
the second Lithuanian society, St. Casimir’s. The society was formed for the
purpose of saying confessions to the priests in the native Lithuanian language.
With the money raised by the Saint Casimir Society, priests from other cities were
paid to provide the Chicago Lithuanians with Easter services in their native
language. One of these was Father Valentinas Cizauskas, who later became the
pastor of the St. George’s parish.
7. St. Casimir Society
Aluminum,
25mm. Dotted border both sides.
Obverse inscription: ST. KAZIMIERA DRUGGISTE UZDETA UZDETA 1921 M CHICAGO, ILL.
Full meaning: Svento Kazimiero Draugiste Uzdeta 1912 year, Chicago, Ill.
Translation: St. Casimir Society established in the year of 1912, Chicago,
Illinois.
Reverse: A very large cipher 5 in the center.
This society was organized in the West Side of Chicago on March 4, 1912, and
its main purpose was mutual assistance and importing books published by the St.
Casimir Society in Kaunas, Lithuania.
Notice the misspelling of the word Draugiste as “Druggiste.” Was the die maker
thinking of the English word druggist?
8. Society of the Grove of Lithuania
Aluminum,
25mm. Dotted border obverse, beaded border reverse.
Obverse inscription: DRAUGISTE LETUVOS GOJAUS
Translation: Society of the Grove of Lithuania
Reverse: A large cipher 5
Undated. This organization had its origin in Pennsylvania, with a branch in
Chicago.
9. National Guard of the Lithuanian Grand Duke Algirdas
Aluminum
crenated, 25 x 30mm. 8 petals. Dotted border obverse, beaded border reverse.
Obverse inscription: L.G.D.L.K. ALGIRDA CHICAGO ILL.
Full meaning: Lieb Gvardija Dijiojo Lietuvos Kunigaikscio Algirdo, Chicago,
Ill.
Translation: National Guard of Grand Duke of Lithuania, Algirdas, Chicago,
Illinois.
Reverse: GOOD FOR ONE 5 (cent) DRINK
This organization was named after Lithuanian Grand Duke Algirdas It was
semi-militaristic in nature, very patriotic, and very anti-Russian.
10. Saint Domininks Society
Aluminum
crenated, 25 x 30mm. 8 petals. Beaded border both sides.
Obverse inscription: ST. DOMININKS SOCIETY CHICAGO.
Reverse: GOOD FOR 5 (cent) DRINK.
The St. Dominink’s Society was organized on November 24, 1910, in the
Bridgeport section of Chicago. The majority of the members were from the
Samogitian area of Lithuania, from the city of Raseiniai.
11. Society of St. Stanislaus Bishop and Martyr
Aluminum
crenated, 26 x 30mm. 8 petals. Beaded border obverse, dotted border reverse.
Obverse inscription: DR-TE. SZ. SLANISLOWA V. IRK. CHICAGO, ILL.
Full meaning: Draugiste Szwenta Stanislowa Vyskupa ir Kankinia. Chicago, Ill.
Translation: Society of Saint Stanislaus Bishop and Martyr.
Reverse: GOOD FOR 5¢ IN TRADE.
This was one of the strongest fraternal lodges in the Bridgeport section and
was organized on July 6, 1903. The inscription is in the Samogitian dialect.
Note the misspelling of the word “Stanislowa” on the tokens. It starts out as
Sl instead of St.
12. United Lithuanian Societies
Aluminum,
24mm. Dotted border both sides.
Obverse inscription: SUSIWIENIJIMAS LIETUWISKU DRAUGISZCZIU CHICAGO, ILL.
Translation: United Lithuanian Societies, Chicago, Illinois.
Reverse: GOOD FOR 5¢ IN TRADE.
The U.L.S., the Chicago branch of the Lithuanian Alliance of America, was
established in 1900. In 1906 the Alliance’s national conference was held in
Chicago. An offshoot of this group was the Lithuanian Roman Catholic Alliance
of America, which established a Chicago branch at St. Michael’s church in 1907.
13. Society of the Lithuanian King Mindaugas
Brass,
25mm. Dotted border both sides.
Obverse inscription: DR-ST. L.K. MINDAVGIA CHICAGO, ILL.
Full meaning: Draugiste Lietuvos Karaliaus Mindaugio, Chicago, Ill.
Translation: Society for the Lithuanian King Mindaugas, Chicago, Illinois.
Reverse: GOOD FOR 5¢ IN TRADE AT THE BAR.
This organization was founded on March 18, 1909, and should not be confused
with the St. George’s parish Mindaugas organization that issued token No. 5.
The Providence of God church and school.
Father Michael Krusas (1879-1950), one of Chicago’s most formidable Lithuanian
priests.
14. The Providence of God Society
Brass,
21mm. Dotted border obverse, plain border reverse.
Obverse inscription: PROVIDENCE OF GOD SOCIETY, with an all seeing Eye of God
in the center.
Reverse: GOOD FOR 5¢ DRINK.
The Providence of God Society was organized in 1900. Located at 717 W. 18th St.
and Union Avenue, a combined church and school was erected in 1901, and 1905
the parish rectory was opened under the direction of Father Edward Steponavicius.
One of the parish’s most formidable priests in the early years was Father
Michael Krusas (Kruszas) (1875-1950). Under Krusas’ direction, the church
building was erected in 1914. It still stands today, just west of the Dan Ryan
Expressway, where it can be seen from the highway. Krusas later became the
pastor of St. George’s church, and was one of the highly respected church
leaders in Chicago. In 1979 the Providence of God parish had the high honor of
being visited by Pope John Paul II during a tour of America. In a personal
sidelight, it was at the original church-school building (pictured above on the
left) that this writer’s maternal grandparents, Nikodemas and Teodora
(Barvydaite) Kulikauskas were married on January 8, 1914 by Fr. Krusas. Nikodemas
was born near Varniai, Lithuania and came to America in 1911, while Teodora was
from near Luoke, Lithuania and arrived in Chicago in 1913.
15. and 16. Grand Duke Gediminas Society
Brass,
octagonal. 27 x 29mm. Grooved dotted border both sides.
Obverse inscription: DR. D.K. GEDEMINO
Full meaning: Draugiste Didzijo Kunigailkscio Gendemino
Translation: Grand Duke Gediminas Society.
Reverse: No. 15: 10¢, surrounded by twelve stars. No 16: 50¢ surrounded by
twelve stars. Note: other tokens were issued in denominations of 5¢, 25¢, 75¢
and $1.00.
The Grand Duke Gediminas Society was organized in the Bridgeport section of the
city in 1891. It was named Grand Duke Gediminas (1275-1341), a famous
Lithuanian Grand Duke who founded the capital city of Vilnius in the year 1323.
17. Society of Brothers and Sisters of Lithuania in America
Brass,
octagonal, 27 x 30mm. Dotted border obverse, beaded border reverse.
Obverse inscription: DR. LIETUVOS BROLUI IR. SESSERU AMERICA 12 D RUG 1911
Full meaning: Draugiste Lietubos Broliu ir. Seseru Amerikoje 12 Diena Rugsejo
1911.
Translation: Society of Brothers and Sisters of Lithuania in America, 12th day
of September, 1911
Reverse: GOOD FOR A 5 CENT DRINK
18. 19. and 20. Saint Martins Theatrical Society
Brass,
23mm. square.
Obverse description: All three tokens bear the same inscription, ST. MARTIN’S
SOCIETY.
No. 18 bears a beaded circular border, and the inscription is diamond shaped in
relation to the planchet. In the center is a five pointed star with two
diamonds on the sides, and 3 dots on top.
No. 19 bears a corded border, and the inscription is horizontal in relationship
to the planchet. There are only 2 dots above the center ornamentation. No. 20
is very similar to No. 18, but several differences do occur. The position of
the lettering is different: note the letter “I” in “society” is shifted to the
left under the star. The border is crenated instead of being beaded.
The die used for No. 20 is about 2mm smaller than No. 18. Reverse description:
GOOD FOR 5¢ IN TRADE.
St. Martin’s Society was officially known as Draugiste Treatraliszka Po
Preigloba Szwanto Martino, which translates “Theatrical Society Under
Protection of St. Martin.” The chief purpose of this organization was to
provide Lithuanian entertainment in the form of acting and plays. Organized on
January 22, 1899, in the Bridgeport section, this organization had a large
library consisting of many thousands of Lithuanian books. It finally merged
with another Lithuanian organization in 1928, after 29 years of fine cultural
existence.
21. Lithuanian Theatrical Society of St. Martin
Aluminum,
25mm. Obverse bears a fine line border, the reverse has a dotted border.
Obverse inscription: LIET. TEAT. DR-TE SZ. MARTINO CHICAGO, ILL. A pair of
clasped hands is depicted in the center.
Full meaning: Lietuviszka Teatraliszka Draugiste Szvento Martino, Chicago,
Illinois.
Translation: Lithuanian Theatrical Society of Saint Martin, Chicago, Illinois.
Reverse: In the center, AMATORIUS, meaning, Amateur.
These tokens were given to the stage actors and workers who used them towards
the purchase of refreshments.
22. Saint Roch’s Mutual Benefit Society
Brass,
double oval, 24 x 28mm. Both sides bear a dotted border.
Obverse inscription: DRAUGISTIE ROKO SZWENTA 1903.
Translation: St. Roch Society, 1903
Reverse: GOOD FOR 5¢ IN TRADE.
The Saint Roch Mutual Benefit Society was organized in the Town of Lake
district of Chicago on January 3, 1903. Most of the members were from the
Samogitian (Zemaitija) region of Lithuania. St. Roch’s was named after Saint
Roch, a Frenchman who cared for persons in plague-stricken Italy in the 14th
century. The St. Roch fraternity was established in Lithuania in 1705 with the
headquarters established in Varniai, Lithuania, in 1743. Its purpose was to
nurse the sick and collect donations for the poor. The St. Roch’s society in
Varniai was forcibly closed by the Russian Czar in 1886. The Samogitian
Lithuanians who came to the U.S. in the spirit of their original society,
re-established it in Chicago.
Our Lady of Vilnius Parish on West 23rd Place.
23. Our Lady of Vilnius of the Dawn Gate
Bronze,
octagonal 25 x 27mm. The obverse has dotted border; the reverse a beaded
border.
Obverse inscription: DRSTE AUSZROS VARTU S.M.P. 2 DA BERZ. 1906 CHICAGO, ILL.
Full meaning: Draugiste Auszros Vartu Szvencziausios Marijos Panos 2 Diena
Berzelio 1906, Chicago, Illinois.
Translation: Society of the Blessed Virgin Mary of the Dawn Gate, 2nd Day of
June, 1906, Chicago, Illinois.
Reverse: GOOD FOR 5¢ AT THE BAR.
The Our Lady of Vilnius church was founded on the West Side of Chicago after
several years of preliminary meetings with the Catholic hierarchy to determine
the need for a parish and school. In January of 1906 Archbishop Quigley
authorized Rev. Casimir Ambrozaitis to establish the Lithuanian parish. In
August of 1906 the parish purchased land at 2327 W. 23rd Place, between Western
and Oakley Aves. On October 5, the ground was broken for a school, with the
cornerstone being laid on November 11. In 1907 the church building was
dedicated. The church was named after the famous Dawn Gate Shrine located in
Vilnius, Lithuania.
24. 25. and 26. Lovers of the Fatherland Lithuanian Society
No. 24:
Brass, 25mm. No. 25: Aluminum octagonal, 24 x 27mm. No. 26: Brass escalloped,
25 x 30mm. 8 petals. No. 24: 5¢; No. 25: 10¢; No. 26: 25¢.
Obverse: The inscription on all three tokens reads, T.M.L. DR-TES CHICAGO, ILL.
Full meaning: Tevynes Myletoju Lietuviu Draugistes Chicago Illinois.
Translation: Lovers of the Fatherland Lithuanian Society, Chicago Illinois.
Reverse: In the center of all three the denomination numeral (5, 10, 25) is
within a radiant star. Established in Pennsylvania in 1896, this group was
originally founded by Jonas Sliupas (1861-1944), a well known figure among
Lithuanian-Americans. The Chicago branch was founded a year later on April 28,
1897. In this 1948 listing, Dr. Rackus states that members of this group
“fought the church.”
27. Lithuanian National Society
Bronze
octagonal, 25 x 27mm. Both sides bear a dotted border.
Obverse inscription: LIETUVISZKA TAUT. DRAU-TE 5¢ VIENYBE.
Full meaning: Lietuviszka Tautiszka Draugiste Vienybe.
Translation: Lithuanian National Society. 5¢. Unity.
Reverse: The inscription appears in the English language, with the exception of
the word VIENYBE being printed in Lithuanian at the bottom.
28. Butvill Tavern
Aluminum,
24mm. Both sides bear a dotted border.
Obverse inscription: BUTVILL TAVERN 3327 ARCHER AVE.
Reverse: GOOD FOR 10 ¢ IN TRADE.
This token was issued in 1938 by the tavern of Mr. Butvilas, and is a reflected
of the population shift of the Lithuanians in Chicago towards other sections of
the city.
29. Women’s Society of the Dawn Gate
Bronze
crenated, 25 x 30mm. 8 petals. The obverse has a dotted border; the reverse,
beaded.
Obverse inscription: M.D.S.P.M.A.V.
Full meaning: Moteru Draugiste Szvento Panos Parijos Auszros Vartuose.
Translation: Women’s Society of the Blessed Virgin Mary of the Dawn Gate.
This token was issued by the same parish that issued token No. 23. The parish
in Chicago was one of five in the U.S. named after this Lithuanian shrine.
This listing of Lithuanian lodges in Chicago is not exhaustive. Other tokens were issued by such organizations as: “The Lithuanian Sons and Daughters Hall” on South Halsted, the “Lithuanian American Republican League,” and others. These tokens frequently appear as “mavericks” in coin dealers’ token boxes, and it takes a dedicated collector to know how to find them.
There were three other items that were minted by early 20th century immigrants which although not tokens, should be mentioned here. The first is the medal issued as part of a ribbon in 1907 by the Women’s Society of the Dawn Gate (same group as token 29).
Bronze with loop, 31mm.
Obverse inscription: STEBUKLINGA S. P. VILNIUS AUSTROS VARTUSE.
Translation: Miraculous Blessed Virgin of Vilnius of the Dawn Gate.
Reverse inscription: LIETUVOS GLOBIEJI MELSTIS UZ MUMIS MOTERU DRAUGYST UZDIETA
LAPK. LL. 1907. WESTSIDE, CHICAGO, ILL.
Translation: Patroness of Lithuania, Pray for Us. Women’s Society, Begun November
1907.
This society ceased to function in 1936.
The Lithuanian Congress held in Chicago, June 8-11, 1919, approved the gift of a cast bell from Lithuanian Americans to their fatherland. The 1200 pound bell, modeled after the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, was paid for by donations from Lithuanian Americans and was shipped to Kaunas on January 12, 1922. It was rung for the first time on February 16, 1922, Lithuania’s Independence Day. Those who contributed $5 or more to the construction of the bell were eligible to acquire the Lithuanian Liberty Bell’s Honor Badge, a bronze medal with ribbon and pin-back bronze bar. The striped ribbon is yellow, green and red, the three colors of the Lithuanian flag and the bell depicts the Vytis national emblem of Lithuania.
Bronze, with bar and ribbon, 4mm.
Bar inscription: LAISVE LIETUVAI
Translation: Freedom for Lithuania
Bell inscription: O, SKAMBINK PER AMZIUS VAIKAMS LIETUVOS KAO LAISVES NEVERTAS
KAS NEGINA JOS
Translation: Ring through the ages for the children of Lithuania, that worthy
of freedom is he who fails to defend it.
The year 1930 marked the 500th anniversary of the death of Lithuania’s greatest
patriarch, Vytautas the Great. In Lithuania in 1930, a year-long celebration
was held, commemorating the anniversary of Vytautas’ death.
The Lithuanians in Chicago issued a special medal/badge to commemorate the
event. Struck in both bronze and aluminum, each bore a cloth ribbon-pin bearing
the colors of the Lithuanian national flag: yellow, green, and red.
Bronze or aluminum, 30mm.
Obverse inscription: VYTAUTAS DIDYSIS LIETUVOS KUNIGAIKSTIS with a bust of
Vytautas in the center.
Translation: Vytautas the Great, Lithuanian Grand Duke.
Reverse inscription: 500th ANNIVERSARY OF THE DEATH OF VYTAUTAS. 1430-1930.
CHICAGO, ILL. In 1979 a hoard of these medals surfaced at the Balzekas Museum
in Chicago, and the majority of them were subsequently sold to collectors. The
bronze version of this medal is much scarcer than the aluminum.
Special thanks to the Balzekas Museum of Lithuanian Culture in Chicago for providing information for this article.
Lithuanians in the Chicago areaFrom Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia The Union Stockyards were at one time a significant employer of Chicago's Lithuanian community. Upton Sinclair's 1906 novel The Jungle, revolves around the life of a Lithuanian immigrant working the Stockyards named Jurgis Rudkus. Lithuanians in Chicago and the nearby metropolitan area are a prominent group within the "Windy City" whose presence goes back over a hundred years. Today Chicago possesses the largest Lithuanian community outside Lithuania,[1] who have dubbed the city as Little Lithuania, and many Lithuanian-Americans refer to it as the second capital of Lithuania. Lithuanian-Americans from Chicago have had a significant impact on politics in both the United States and Lithuania.
[edit]HistoryLithuanians have been documented as arriving in the US since 1918, when Lithuania re-established its independence from Imperial Russia.[1] Although this is the first official record, Lithuanians began arriving at least two decades earlier; however, they were listed as Russian citizens.[1] This is compounded by the fact that, prior to Lithuanian independence, most if not all official documents were written in Russian,Polish or German. Thousands of Lithuanians have since moved to Chicago, providing a good source of labor for the growing city. The Lithuanian community in Chicago was most famously immortalized byUpton Sinclair in his 1906 novel about the treatment of workers in the Chicago stock yards, The Jungle, whose story revolves around telling the life of a Lithuanian immigrant named Jurgis Rudkus. [edit]DistributionThe first and most prominent Lithuanian enclave in Chicago was called "Lithuanian Downtown" which was located along Halsted street in Bridgeport and founded by Lithuanians who settled nearby their Old World neighbors, the Poles, who were located in a Polish Patch in the vicinity of St. Mary of Perpetual Help.[2] It was here that the Lithuanian church of Saint George was founded as the first Lithuanian parish in the Midwest, foreshadowing the prominence that Bridgeport would play as one of the key centers of Lithuanian activity throughout the United States.[3] A large number of the early buildings of this district were built by the first prominent Lithuanian community leader, Antanas Olšauskas (pronounced Ole-shau-skus), circa 1910.[2] Centered on Thirty-third and Halsted, Bridgeport was Chicago's leading Lithuanian neighborhood from the 1890s through the 1950s. Although the numbers of Lithuanians in the area began to fall off in the 1950s, one of Lithuanian Chicago's longtime institutions, Healthy Food Restaurant, still remains on Halsted near Thirty-second street.[2] Although Lithuanians initially settled in areas adjacent to the ethnic group most familiar from their European homeland, the Poles, a pattern consistent with most other immigrant groups in Chicago, the Lithuanian community today is found all over theChicago metropolitan area. There have been a number of Chicago neighborhoods in which Lithuanian immigrants have clustered during the 20th century, including Bridgeport, Brighton Park, Marquette Park, and the Back of the Yards. The adjacent near-western suburb of Cicero had an enclave of Lithuanians in the 20th century, especially around St. Anthony's Parish. The most recent wave of immigrants has settled in the Chicago suburbs of Lemont, Darien and Woodridge. There is a small enclave of Lithuanians around the Beverly Shores area in northwest Indiana at the southern coast of Lake Michigan. [edit]SignificanceValdas Adamkus was an active member of the Lithuanian community in Chicago for decades before becoming President of Lithuania. Today "Little Lithuania" is the center of Lithuanian culture in North America. It houses the only museum about Lithuanians in the Western Hemisphere, the Balzekas Museum of Lithuanian Culture, which provides a wealth of information about Lithuania and Lithuanian culture. Little Lithuania has a number of Lithuanian restaurants, bookstores, and other shops. The former president of Lithuania, Valdas Adamkus1998-2003 and 2004–2009, is a former resident of the Chicago area as well. Chicago is home to the Consulate General of the Republic of Lithuania, and the city's large Lithuanian-American community maintains close ties to what is affectionately called the Motherland. Chicago's Lithuanian heritage is visible in the cityscape through its Lithuanian-named streets such as Lituanica Avenue and Lithuanian Plaza Court as well as an Art Deco monument in Marquette Park commemorating pilots Stasys Girėnas and Steponas Darius who died in the crash of the Lituanica in 1933. A number of the most architecturally significant churches of the Archdiocese of Chicago were built as national parishes by Lithuanian immigrants such as Holy Cross, Providence of God, and Nativity B.V.M., which is dedicated to our Our Lady of Šiluva or the now demolished St. George's in Bridgeport. Opulently decorated with a proclivity towards Renaissance and Baroque ornamentation, Lithuanian churches were designed in the spirit of the architecture of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth's heyday. Like Chicago's Polish Cathedral's, these churches were statements meant to recall an era when the Grand Duchy of Lithuania spanned from the Baltic to the Black Sea, having been built at a time when Lithuania was under Russian occupation and incorporating Lithuanian imagery in its decor such as the Vytis to invoke pride in Lithuanian culture. There are many Lithuanian schools built near and in Chicago. Chicago Lithuanian Youth Center (Čikagos Lituanistinė Mokykla), a private school for Lithuanian immigrant children was founded in 1992. Other Lithuanian schools include Maironis in Lemont, Gediminas in Waukegan and Rasa in Naperville. There are also many Lithuanian newspapers circulating around Chicago, like Draugas (Friend), Čikagos Aidas(Echo Chicago), Langas (Window), Amerikos Lietuvis (Lithuanian American), and Vakarai (The West). Years ago, the Lithuanian Song festival (Dainų Šventė) and Dance Festival (Šokių Šventė) have been held at the now-demolished International Amphitheatre, originally near the Stockyards on the south side of Chicago. More recently, the Song Festival has been held at the UIC Pavilion a couple of times and the Dance Festival held in the suburb of Rosemont, not far from Chicago O'Hare Airport. The Lithuanian Opera Company of Chicago was founded by Lithuanian emigrants in 1956,[4] and presents operas in Lithuanian. Lithuanian operas were sometimes held at Maria High School in Chicago, a school that has been associated with Lithuanians, and such operas are now sometimes held at Morton East High School in Cicero. Draugas building in Chicago, IL § Lithuanian World Center (Pasaulio Lietuvių Centras, 14911 127th St.) in Lemont, Illinois - a complex for Lithuanian culture including a sizeable Roman Catholic chapel, Matulaitis Mission, and classrooms for a Lithuanian school on Saturdays, as well as various other facilities.[6] § Lithuanian Youth Center (Lietuvių Jaunimo Centras, 5620 S. Claremont Ave.) in Chicago's Marquette Park neighborhood on the Chicago south side. At this location, there is a Jesuit Residence for Catholic Fathers and Brothers, the Youth Center, a Roman Catholic chapel, the Čiurlonis Gallery (Čiurlionio Galerija), and the Lithuanian Research and Studies Center, Inc. [Lituanistikos tyrimo ir studijų centras (LTSC)].[7][8] For a photo, see here. § Consulate General of the Republic of Lithuania in Chicago (Lietuvos Respublikos generalinis konsulatas Čikagoje at 211 E. Ontario St., Suite 1500) on the very near north side of Chicago. § Ateitis Foundation Center (Ateitininkų Namai, 1380 Castlewood Drive) in Lemont, Illinois - a facility for the Lithuanian youth organization whose members are Ateitininkai.[9] For photos of the center building, seehere and here. § Balzekas Museum of Lithuanian Culture (Balzeko lietuvių kultūros muziejus) on Chicago's south side. § Draugas Publishing House (Draugo Redakcija) not far from the Midway Airport area on the Chicago west side - facility where the publication of the century-old Lithuanian language daily newspaper Draugastakes place. § St. Casimir Lithuanian Cemetery (Švento Kazimero Kapinės at 4401 W. 111th Street) is a Lithuanian cemetery of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Chicago on the edge of the southwest side of Chicago where many deceased Lithuanians are buried.[10] [edit]References1. ^ a b c Čikagos aidas. The Lithuanian Market. Retrieved on 2008-09-04 2. ^ a b c http://www.ahsd25.k12.il.us/curriculum%20Info/Neighborhoods/bridgeport1.htm 3. ^ http://www.ahsd25.k12.il.us/curriculum%20Info/Neighborhoods/bridgeport2.htm 4. ^ "About the Lithuanian Opera Company, Inc. in Chicago". Lithuanian Opera Co.. Retrieved 2006-09-14. 6. ^ Pasaulio Lietuviu Centras | Lithuanian World Center | 7. ^ BalticJesuit 8. ^ LTSC - Lituanistikos tyrimo ir studiju centras, Chicago, IL 10. ^ Lithuanian Parishes of the Roman Catholic Diocese in America [edit]External links§ The Balzekas Museum of Lithuanian Culture § The Consulate General of the Republic of Lithuania
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By Jennifer Virškus
A nation can be defined by several different characteristics; geographical location, language, a common history, cultural body, or race. The Lithuanian nation is defined by all of these. Lithuania has a language which is unique in the world and a culture that runs deep. It shares more than two centuries of its history with Poland, and few other nations have survived occupation by so many different groups. There are several types of nationalism; primordial, civic, organic, and liberal. Because of the lack of opportunity in Lithuania, young Lithuanians have recently tried to convince themselves that they want to “forget” their Lithuanian culture and move on to a new life in the West, but it is not possible. Lithuanians will always be Lithuanians whether they are in Lietuva or not. This is evident in the Lithuanian-American community, though they are clearly Americans, their Lithuanian identity stays with them. This is because Lithuanian nationalism is both geographic and organic, an entity to which all Lithuanians belong, as parts of a whole and independently of their will, choice or consciousness.
To be clear, I must define what I mean by geographic and organic nationalism. Geographic nationalism is a combination of primordial and social construct nationalism. That is to say, it is based on an ethnic identity and linked to a territory (O'Laughlin). It is distinctive, based on a unique culture, religion, and literature. At the same time, geographic nationalism is constructed by the elites, though not necessarily for their own benefit. In the case of Lithuania, it was constructed and propagated out of a feeling of repression, and the desire of the people to live in a democratic state they could call their own. Johann Gottfried Herder used the term nationalism while applying it to Volk, emphasizing the organic nature of a people. This goes beyond the primordial definition to suggest that nationalism is something ingrained in a people. Herder says that the nation is a natural creation and nationalities are not the product of men, rather the “work of a living organic force that animates the universe.” National culture is, as Herder puts it, closed to foreign eyes (Viroli). So, Lithuanian nationalism is primordial in the sense that it is based on an ethnic identity, language, and culture; it is socially constructed, or rather promoted, by the elite who want to form a Lithuanian state, and organic in that birth is the only way for one to become Lithuanian.
The Lithuanian state was founded in the 13th century by Grand Duke Mindaugas. Lithuania began to expand in the 14th century, and by the beginning of the 15th century Lithuania was one of the largest countries in Europe
FIGURE 1: The map of Lithuania in the 13th-15th centuries.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Lithuanian_state_in_13-15th_centuries.png
In 1569 Lithuania and Poland formed the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, ruled by an elected king who was also Grand Duke of Lithuania. During the partitions of Poland, Lithuania was largely annexed by the Russian Empire, disappearing from the map completely (Figure 2).
FIGURE 2: Lithuanian borders from the 13th century to today.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:LithuaniaHistory.png
Germany occupied Lithuania during the First World War until the Lithuanians declared independence on 16 February 1918. The Lithuanian Republic was proclaimed later that year and enjoyed a brief period of independence between the two World Wars. Independence lasted barely 20 years as the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact of 1939 allowed the USSR to take control of Lithuania. The Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic was proclaimed on 21 July 1940. The Germans occupied Lithuania again from 1941-1944. The Red Army returned in 1944, deporting mass numbers of Lithuanians to Siberia. Small groups of anti-Soviet activists continued to resist until 1952, though, all political parties were disbanded and the country was ruled exclusively by the Lithuanian Communist Party. Gorbechev’s policy of glasnost during the 1980’s allowed Lithuanian nationalism—kept alive by underground and exile groups—to resurface in the reformist climate. Sajudis, the Lithuanian Movement for Reconstruction, was established in 1988. On 11 March 1990, Vytautas Landsbergis declared the independence of Lithuania from the Soviet Union. After a military intervention and a bloody attempt by the Soviets to reclaim the Vilnius TV Tower, the USSR council also recognized the independence of Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia. Today, Lithuania is a republic-parliamentary democracy, with Dalia Grybauskaitė serving as President and Head of State
FIGURE 3: Lithuania today.
To choose one event in which Lithuanian nationalism originated is impossible. Rather, it was the combination of so many centuries of repression which gradually built nationalism to its current strength. We can, however, establish the roots of Lithuanian nationalism, but to do so, we must first establish national identity by looking at Lithuania’s historical foundations that have lasting ethnic bonds and language, which in turn reflect self-identification. “Heroic” self-perceptions are shaped by the collective memory of the strength of the Grand Duchy (Kavolis 1991). Certainly, the fight for independence from Russia and then Germany during the First World War—and most recently, from the Soviet Union—play a major role. It is often the repression of a nation which becomes a rallying point for nationalism; this is certainly true in the case of Lithuania. Modern national identity is also encouraged by contemporary social and political changes. The opportunity to separate from the Soviet Union and the risk-taking courage of the Lithuanians has not only helped to transform Lithuania, but also re-enforced their own national identity. Lithuanians can take pride in the fact that their provincial struggle gained the attention of the world and paved the way for many other nations on the road to independence.
The role of language, religion, monuments, and music cannot be underestimated in determining the origin of nationalism in Lithuania. The Lithuanian language draws its roots from Sanskrit. It is historically and linguistically important since it retains most of its archaic Indo-European forms. This is due to the fact that during the Polish-Lithuanian dynasty, Polish was the preferred tongue, and during Russian occupation a policy of “russificaiton” insisted that Russian be used in daily life. Though the underground journal, Aušra (the Dawn), created by Jonas Basnavičius, brought the Lithuanian language en vogue among Lithuanian intellectuals, the language developed little until the first Lithuanian independence of 1918 when it could finally be spoken openly. The language quickly became a strong source of pride as more and more Lithuanians began to learn and speak the language. John Locke describes Lithuanian national identity as “national language and self-dedication.” In his autobiography, Lithuania Independent Again, former Lithuanian president, Vytautas Landsbergis, reflects on the lives of his grandfathers, Gabrielius Landsbergis and Jonas Jablonskis, who worked together on the staff of Vilniaus Žinios (The Vilnius News), the only legal publication in the Lithuanian language at the turn of the century. Gabrielius’ family had been polonized and he only began to learn Lithuanian after entering high school. As he embraced the language, he became “firm and enthusiastic in his belief that he was a Lithuanian” (Landsbergis 2000). The growing nationalist movement was solidified as the geographical region of Lithuania was defined by its language. Aušra is an instance in which the elite was attempting to construct Lithuanian nationalism to inspire a move toward independence, however in doing so, led many Lithuanians to discover and embrace their language and the ethnic identity that accompanied it, having a lasting effect on nationalism today.
In addition to inspiring the use of the Lithuanian language, Aušra, is also considered the organ of Catholic Nationalism (Welch). The Polish-Lithuanian Dynasty was surrounded by Lutheranism to the West and North, and Russian Orthodoxy to the East. Together with the language, the Catholic faith became something that set the Lithuanians apart from their neighbors. National independence was the long-term goal, but Aušra rejected revolutionary activity, concentrating on preserving a nationally conscious and morally strong people, which it said was a precondition for statehood. It proposed a state similar to Israel where citizenship is based on the primordial elements of Lithuanian nationality and the Catholic religion (Welch 1983). Catholicism became so intertwined with Lithuanian identity, that during the interwar years to be Lithuanian was to be Roman Catholic (Donskis 2002). Here we have an example of nationalism being tied to an element already ingrained in Lithuanian society. Lithuanians were already Catholic, what changed in the first part of the twentieth century is that suddenly being Catholic, and Lithuanian, was something to be proud of.
FIGURE 4: Kryžiu Kalnas (the Hill of Crosses), near Šiauliai.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Hill-of-crosses-siauliai.jpg
Many monuments in Lithuania that promote nationalism have been created out of ties to the Catholic church. Most notably, Kryžiu Kalnas (the Hill of Crosses), near Šiauliai. A Lithuania pilgrimage center, Kryžiu Kalnas is a small hill where many hundreds of thousands of crosses have been placed to represent Christian devotion and as a memorial to Lithuanian national identity. This monument dates to the 14th century and is an example of peaceful resistance to oppression. Soviet tanks tried to destroy it on three separate occasions, leveling the monument during the night and either burning the crosses or turning them into scrap metal. Each time, crosses reappeared within days. Today it is an international pilgrimage site of mystical proportions, home to hundreds of thousands of crosses.
One can also think of the Lithuanian flag (Figure 5) as a monument to the Lithuanians who fought and died for the freedom of their country. The flag, adopted on 19 April 1918, consists of three horizontal stripes of yellow, green and red, the three colors most used in traditional weaving. The yellow represents the fertile fields of Lithuania, golden with ripe rye, wheat and flax. The green is a symbol of the nation’s vitality, and the red is a monument to the blood shed in defending the freedom of the homeland (Blavasciunas). All the elements of Lithuanian nationalism are represented in the flag: the organic yellow and green of the life that continues to grow, social construct references to the blood shed—a rallying point which the elites can use to promote nationalism—and the primordial element of the traditional colors used.
FIGURE 5: The Lithuanian flag.
Like monuments, music plays an important role in the expression of Lithuanian nationalism, most importantly, the work of Mikalojus Konstantinas Čiurlionis. Čiurlionis worked at the end of the 19th century helping to spawn nationalism with his symphonic poems which speak of the beauty of Lietuva. His two most important works, Jūra (The Sea) and Miške (The Forest) describe the two most prominent features of Lithuanian geography. The sea was an important resource for Amber as well as being valuable for trade with Scandinavia and Western Europe. The forest was the setting of most of Lithuanian folklore and pagan traditions, which are still practiced today. Čiurlionis’s work is a musical illustration of ancient ritual, religious devotion and national nostalgia, tying Lithuanian national identity directly to the land.
The national anthem (Figure 6) written by Dr. Vincas Kudirka contains references not only to national themes, but also to “the paths of virtue” (Kavolis). Kudirka did not intend for his poem, “Tautos Hymnas” (“National Hymn”), which espoused a love for Lithuania, to become the national anthem (Blavasciunas), yet it also includes all the elements of the origin of Lithuanian nationalism already mentioned above. The first line, “Lietuva, tėvyne mūsų, tu didvyrių žeme!” (“Lithuania, my homeland, land of heroes!”) makes the geographical connection, while the rest of the poem goes on to glorify Lithuania’s history and virtue. It does not mention revolution; on the contrary, it speaks only of the moral good of the Lithuanian people who have “light and truth” guiding their steps. These are certainly primordial elements; they come straight out of historical Lithuanian culture and values. The anthem is organic as it refers to Lithuania’s “children” working for the good of their native land. This implies the land upon which they were born—going back to Herder's argument that national identity is correlated to one’s birthplace—is integral to their identity.
During the Soviet Occupation, attempts to unite the USSR meant not only “russificaiton” but the outright banning of everything Lithuania had to be proud of; the language, Catholicism, music—in particular folk music—and public celebration of national festivals. Many monuments were destroyed and churches were turned into science museums. Hélène Carrère d'Encausse asks the question in her book Decline of an Empire, “Has the Marxist ideology of human uniformity gained mastery over this diverse society in which for the first time in history it has taken root and come to power?” Soviet indoctrination had several effects. The older generation that had seen the capabilities of the Soviets were sufficiently scared to live quietly, not wanting to risk deportation. Small children were the easiest to indoctrinate, and many went on to join the Komsomol (Soviet Young Communist League). There was however a small group of students, particularly at the time of Stalin’s death, who were eager to rediscover the outside world and their own heritage. Vytautas Landsbergis belongs to this group, and he was fortunate enough to study under Jadvyga Čiurlionytė, sister to Čiurlionis. She had established, by her own efforts, a department of Lithuanian folk music at the Vilnius Conservatoire (Landsbergis 2000). Landsbergis went on to become an expert in the music of Čiurlionis, writing several books on his painting and music. Together with the work of Čiurlionis’s sister, Landsbergis was the founder of a revival in Lithuanian Nationalism in the 1950’s, inspiring his own generation, and generations to follow to the idea that Lithuania was something to be proud of, and worth defending.
Opposition to the Soviet regime in Lithuania stems mainly from national and religious sentiments (Welch); of course the two are directly related. As a response to the Soviet secularization of society, a religious movement was spawned based on the overtly religious society which existed before the occupation. Many who were categorized as “non-believers” during Soviet times were actually secret practitioners. Religion became a personally and privately expressed, rather than institutionally expressed, experience. The Catholic rights movement evolved to be a comprehensive campaign against secularization (Welch) which was aided by the visit of Pope John Paul II to Poland in 1979, a visit that deeply disturbed communist authorities across the Eastern Bloc. The Catholic church was in a better position to publicly promote a nationalist movement than a small group of individuals such as the one Landsbergis belonged to as the Soviets could not send the entire church to the Gulag. In her article, “Nationalism and Lithuanian Dissent”, Irene Welch discusses in depth the ethnographic clubs and underground publications such as Varpas (The Bell) and Laisvės Šauklys (The Herald of Freedom), which were part of the cultural movement that inspired attempts from underground political organizations such as the Lithuanian Revolutionary Liberation Front. These movements demanded a more aggressive opposition than the Catholic movement did. They were involved, like Landsbergis, in a rediscovery and preservation of the primordial elements of Lithuanian nationalism which had been attacked by the Communist Party and the KGB. Nationalism never died in Lithuania, but it is fair to say that it was difficult to express publicly.
A study was done in the early 1980's about the retention of nationalism in second generation Lithuanian-Americans/Canadians in Chicago and Montreal (Figure 7). It found that there was a significant retention of culture and nationalism among young adults in their twenties. In his article, Virga Jelionis wrote that in identity formation, an individual draws both from the collective and self-identity. Jelionis proves that Lithuanian-Americans/Canadians draw not from the collective identity of either America or Canada, but rather from their Lithuanian heritage, and their own self-identity is not American or Canadian, but Lithuanian. The study is interesting because in Chicago, there is an established and definite neighborhood where most Lithuanians live and socialize, no doubt contributing to their own retention of culture, however, in Montreal where we see the same cultural trends, no such neighborhood exists. This shows us that retention of Lithuanian nationalism is deeper, not simply constructed through daily exposure. It is something that a person is born with, and cannot escape. Not only do we see that Lithuanian-Americans/Canadians are proud and comfortable in their ethnic community, but they prefer to engage in social activities with other Lithuanians and are very interested and concerned in the future of their homeland. In addition, the study shows that second generation Lithuanians still feel strongly that their own children attend Saturday school[1] and speak Lithuanian at home. While Lithuanian nationalism is based on primordial elements, Saturday school, scout groups, and dance troupes are ways in which nationalism is socially constructed and promoted. What is interesting and important to note, is that Lithuanian nationalism, at least in expatriate communities, is being constructed by the masses, both individually and collectively, rather than an educated elite. Nearly 90% of respondents answered either “yes” or “sometimes” to the question, “I am very conscious of, or preoccupied with, my [Lithuanian] nationality.” Very simply, Lithuanian nationalism, and being Lithuanian is important.
Nationalism in Lithuania today, is a very open experience, though, participation in Catholic activities is significantly lower. Communism succeeded in wiping out religious identity in the current twenty-something generation. This was the last generation born under the Soviet regime, and the current widespread trend away from the church in Europe also contributes. In 1991, there was no organized culture, and there was some debate about the path Lithuania should follow; join the pluralistic West, reaffirm certitudes of Lithuania’s own past, or seek to create a more universal post-totalitarian culture (Kavolis). One trend concerns the belief that individuals begin as members of a nation and that its leaders are "indistinguishable" from the nation, as the Lithuanian Democratic Party declared about Vytautas Landsbergis (Kavolis). It would seem that Lithuania is leaning toward reaffirming “certitudes of Lithuania’s past;” we see nearly daily celebrations of “memorial days, numerous re-inaugurations of destroyed monuments, reburials of exhumed bodies of Siberian deportees—expressions of the ancient belief that a person ultimately belongs to his or her native soil” (Kavolis). Kryžiu Kalnas is covered with more crosses than ever, and new statues are being erected constantly in honor of Lithuania’s children, fallen in her defense. The brave men and women who stood up to the tanks of the Red Army during the attempted capture of the Vilnius TV tower were given Lithuania’s highest Medal of Honor. Shortly after independence was declared, an important statue of Lenin was taken down to be replaced with that of a famous Lithuanian personality, Frank Zappa. Lithuanians can finally be openly and publicly proud of whom they are, where they come from, and the language they speak.
I consider myself a Lithuanian nationalist, though my heritage is only half Lithuanian and my upbringing was much more American than ethnic Lithuanian. We ate kugėlis and babka on Christmas morning, had Easter eggs my Grandmother painstakingly decorated with beeswax and natural dyes every year, and went to a Lithuanian church once in a while. But I didn’t speak Lithuanian, or go to Saturday school, nor did I attend summer heritage camp at Dainava. My exposure to Lithuanian culture was more subtle—my Grandmother’s accent, a word here or there. Sometimes my Dėdė[2] Balys would ask my brothers and I for clothes or old toys to send to “the cousins” in Lithuania. I didn’t know what it meant to be Lithuanian, but I knew it was something I belonged to and something I was proud of. My first public exhibition of nationalism came when I was twelve. I bought a pin representing the American and Lithuanian flags flying together. This was in 1989, and there was a stir in the Lithuanian community that soon Lietuva would be independent again. My nationalism was not constructed—it was hardly encouraged—it is primordial, based on a culture I still know so little about, and it is organic, something I was born with, and something that will continue to grow with me. Today Lietuva is independent, and going there means going home.
Bibliography
Carrère d'Encausse, Hélène. Decline of an Empire. HarperCollins, 1981.
Dobryninas, Aleksandras. “The Paradoxes of Freedom in Search of their Roots and Fruits.” Lituanus 39 no.4, (1993).
Donskis, Leonidas. Identity and Freedom: Mapping nationalism and social criticism in twentieth-century Lithuania. London: Routledge, 2002.
Hartman, Gary. “The Origins and Growth of Baltic Nationalism as a Force for Independence.” Lituanus 38 no. 3 (1992).
Jelionis, Virga. “Ethnic Identification: A Study of Second-Generation Lithuanians’ Retention of Culture.” Lituanus 28 no. 3 (1982).
Kavolis, Vytautas. “The Second Lithuanian Revival: Culture as Performance.” Lituanus 37 no.2 (1991).
Landsbergis, Vytautas. Lithuania Independent Again: The Autobiography of Vytautas Landsbergis. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2000.
O'Laughlin, John. GEOG 4712 “Politcal Geography.” University of Colorado at Boulder, 2002.
Ramunas Personal Pages. http://www2.omnitel.net/ramunas/Lietuva/
Taylor, Peter J. and Colin Flint. Political Geography. Essex: Pearson Education Limited, 2000.
Valentiejus, Algis. “Early Lithuanian nationalism: sources of its legitimate meanings in an environment of shifting boundaries.” Nations and Nationalism 8 no. 3 (2002): 315–33.
Welch, Irene. “Nationalism and Lithuanian Dissent” Lituanus 29 no.1 (1983).
Jennifer Virškus
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Figure 6
Lithuania, my homeland, land of heroes!
Let your Sons draw strength from the past.
Let your children follow only the paths of virtue,
working for the good of their native land and for all mankind.
Let the sun banish all darkness from Lithuania,
with light and truth always guiding our steps.
Let the love of Lithuania burn in our hearts
and for the sake of our country let unity blossom.
Figure 7
LITUANUS
LITHUANIAN QUARTERLY JOURNAL OF ARTS AND SCIENCES
Volume 28, No.3 - Fall 1982
Editor of this issue: Antanas Klimas
ISSN 0024-5089
Copyright © 1982 LITUANUS Foundation, Inc.
ETHNIC IDENTIFICATION:
A STUDY OF SECOND-GENERATION LITHUANIANS' RETENTION OF CULTURE
VIRGA JELIONIS
Hofstra University
1-Strongly Agree 5-Strongly Disagree
Having a recognized place in my ethnic community is important to me.
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|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
36% |
19% |
36% |
- |
- |
9% |
(C) |
54% |
36% |
9% |
- |
- |
- |
(M) |
I gain feelings of self-worth from the position I occupy in my ethnic community.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
___________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
36% |
27% |
19% |
9% |
- |
9% |
(C) |
45% |
27% |
19% |
9% |
- |
- |
(M) |
I feel most satisfied when I am engaged in social activities with other Lithuanians.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
___________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
36% |
45% |
9% |
- |
- |
9% |
(C) |
27% |
36% |
27% |
9% |
- |
- |
(M) |
I am interested in the future of the Lithuanian homeland.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
63% |
9% |
19% |
- |
- |
9% |
(C) |
45% |
19% |
36% |
- |
- |
- |
(M) |
I feel most satisfied when I am engaged in activities within the Lithuanian community.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
27% |
36% |
27% |
- |
- |
9% |
(C) |
27% |
36% |
19% |
1 9% |
- |
- |
(M) |
I feel it is important that Lithuanian-(Americans/Canadians) visit Lithuania at least once in their lifetime.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
45% |
9% |
1 9% |
19% |
- |
9% |
(C) |
63% |
9% |
27% |
- |
- |
- |
(M) |
I feel most satisfied when I am in the circle of my Lithuanian friends.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
36% |
19% |
36% |
9% |
- |
- |
(C) |
27% |
27% |
27% |
- |
19% |
- |
(M) |
I feel it is important that Lithuanian-(American/Canadian-an) children attend Saturday school.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
63% |
- |
19% |
- |
9% |
9% |
(C) |
63% |
19% |
19% |
- |
- |
- |
(M) |
I feel it is important that Lithuanian-(Americans/Canadians) respect their parents' wishes to speak Lithuanian in their parents' home.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
63% |
9% |
19% |
- |
- |
9% |
(C) |
36% |
45% |
9% |
- |
9% |
- |
(M) |
I would want my children to be raised in a Lithuanian environment (i.e. attend Lithuanian school, speak Lithuanian in the home, socialize with other Lithuanians, participate in Lithuanian organizations and clubs, etc.)
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
63% |
9% |
- |
9% |
9% |
9% |
(C) |
54% |
27% |
9% |
- |
9% |
- |
(M) |
It is important for Lithuanian-(Americans/Canadians) to stay together as a closely-knit group for the purpose of keeping the culture alive and growing outside the homeland.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
54% |
19% |
27% |
- |
- |
- |
(C) |
54% |
36% |
- |
9% |
- |
- |
(M) |
Lithuanian-(Americans/Canadians) should speak Lithuanian amongst themselves.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
9% |
45% |
19% |
9% |
9% |
9% |
(C) |
19% |
27% |
19% |
19% |
19% |
- |
(M) |
In order to keep the Lithuanian culture alive in North America Lithuanian-(Americans/Canadians) should participate as fully as possible in their own cultural community.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
54% |
19% |
1 9% |
9% |
- |
- |
(C) |
27% |
54% |
- |
- |
19% |
- |
(M) |
It is important that other (Americans/Canadians) be made aware of the Lithuanians' fight for freedom for their homeland.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
81% |
9% |
9% |
- |
- |
- |
(C) |
72% |
19% |
- |
9% |
- |
- |
(M) |
To be a Lithuanian-American/Canadian) means to carry responsibility to be politically active in the fight for Lithuania's freedom.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
9% |
63% |
9% |
9% |
9% |
- |
(C) |
9% |
36% |
19% |
9% |
9% |
19% |
(M) |
I have a duty to educate others about the Lithuanian culture.
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
|
__________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
|||||
27% |
45% |
19% |
- |
9% |
- |
(C) |
19% |
19% |
63% |
- |
- |
- |
(M) |
Of those people whom you would call your friends what proportion are Lithuanian?
all of them |
nearly all of them |
more than half |
less than half |
none |
|
________________________________________________________________________________ |
|
||||
9% |
45% |
36% |
- |
9% |
(C) |
- |
45% |
9% |
45% |
- |
(M) |
I always celebrate Christmas Eve Supper (Lith. Kūčios) with my family.
Yes |
Sometimes |
No |
|
________________________________________________________ |
|
||
63% |
9% |
27% |
(C) |
100% |
- |
- |
(M) |
I always celebrate Lithuanian Independence Day (February 16th).
Yes |
Sometimes |
No |
|
_______________________________________________________________ |
|
||
36% |
27% |
36% |
(C) |
81% |
19% |
- |
(M) |
I celebrate February 16th by attending a Lithuanian function.
Yes |
Sometimes |
No |
|
_______________________________________________________________ |
|
||
54% |
19% |
27% |
(C) |
81% |
19% |
- |
(M) |
I always celebrate Easter with my family.
Yes |
Sometimes |
No |
|
_______________________________________________________________ |
|
||
45% |
27% |
27% |
(C) |
91% |
9% |
- |
(M) |
I attend Mass at a Lithuanian church only as an obligation I am fulfilling for my parents.
Yes |
Sometimes |
No |
|
_______________________________________________________________Ž |
|
||
19% |
19% |
63% |
(C) |
-% |
45% |
54% |
(M) |
Lithuanians should make themselves known by their Lithuanian names in all of their non-Lithuanian environments.
Yes |
Sometimes |
No |
|
________________________________________________________________ |
|
||
72% |
9% |
19% |
(C) |
81% |
9% |
9% |
(M) |
I believe the family is important in keeping our culture alive.
Yes |
No |
|
___________________________________________ |
|
|
91% |
9% |
(C) |
81% |
19% |
(M) |
I am very conscious of, or preoccupied with, my nationality.
Yes |
Sometimes |
No |
|
_________________________________________________ |
|
||
54 |
27 |
19% |
(C) |
45 |
54 |
- |
(M) |
Rūta Šepetys and Ellen Cassedy interviewed by Jennifer Virškus
Two new books making a splash in the literary world—Between Shades of Grey by Rūta Šepetys and We Are Here: Memories of the Lithuanian Holocaust by Ellen Cassedy—take place in WWII Lithuania. Though the two women's stories begin in much the same place—Sepetys's grandfather is from a village near Biržai, while Cassedy's great-grandfather hails from Rokiškis only 60km away—the books, and their stories, couldn't be more different. We Are Here is a first person memoir about Cassedy's journey to discover her Litvak heritage while studying Yiddish at Vilnius University. Between Shades of Grey is a young adult fiction novel about a 15-year-old girl who is deported to Siberia along with her mother and younger brother.
Individually, the books have met with incredible success. Between Shades of Grey, which came out in paperback this month in the US, has been translated into twenty-five languages and sold in thirty countries. Only in bookstores for a little over a month, We Are Here is racking up rave reviews at home and abroad. When speaking of the book, which will be released in Lithuania in May, former president Valdas Adamkus said, “This eloquent book can help us to reach out, open our hearts, and rediscover one another in a spirit of mutual understanding.”
Indeed, the need for understanding is a theme in both books, and together, they provide a more complete portrait of a time in history when Lithuania's identity was at its most complex—not only for their readers, but for the authors, too. “I went to Lithuania, hoping to decide who was right and who was wrong; to put people in a column, who was a victim, who was a killer. And then those lines began to blur,” says Cassedy.
Šepetys went one step further, “The intersection that I've experienced [between the ethnic Lithuanian fear of the Soviets and the Litvak fear of the Nazis] is one of regret … People that I've spoken to say that some of their greatest regrets weren't the things that they forgot to pack with them; they were human interactions with people. Something that was said or done, a suspicion or paranoia; but they also explained that those are the casualties of war.”
“The intersection that I've experienced [between the ethnic Lithuanian fear of the Soviets and the Litvak fear of the Nazis] is one of regret … People that I've spoken to say that some of their greatest regrets weren't the things that they forgot to pack with them; they were human interactions with people. Something that was said or done, a suspicion or paranoia; but they also explained that those are the casualties of war.”
- Rūta Šepetys
Neither of the women's upbringing had been particularly “Lithuanian”—or, in Cassedy's case, particularly Jewish. They were raised in mixed-heritage American homes, sprinkled with ethnic flavor. Cassedy's mother used Yiddish words in her daily speech, “We'd be in the kitchen and she would say, 'Hand me that shissel,' meaning that bowl;” but her name comes from her Irish-protestant father. Šepetys spent her childhood explaining her name to the people around her, “Everyone sees Rūta Šepetys and they're asking, and I'm constantly responding, I'm Lithuanian.” But while her grandfather was very connected to the Lithuanian community and they had all the traditional foods and holidays, she herself had no exposure to it outside her home.
Though they did not know each other, both women took their first trip to Lithuania around the same time—in the early 2000's. Šepetys was on a trip with her brother to find out more about her father's youth, “I was meeting cousins … [My father] was in a DP camp for 9 years, so there are no photographs. I asked if they had any photos … and they told me that they had burned them all because they couldn't let anyone know that they were related.” Her grandfather was an officer in the Lithuanian army; when he fled, the rest of his family was put on the Soviet deportation list, just by association. “[My cousins] told me that some of my grandfather's extended family had been deported—I had no idea that the deportations had affected our family. And then to find out that … the freedom that I have as an American perhaps came at the expense of someone else.” She says that the character of Joana in her book represents her father's journey of fleeing Lithuania, going into the DP camp. “I think how much I take for granted on a daily basis, and when I learned that, I thought, 'Oh my gosh!' I was so ignorant. I was almost ashamed that I had no idea that this part of history had affected my family.” That was when she decided she had to tell the story.
A loyalty to Lithuania itself wasn't a part of Cassedy's upbringing. “Where exactly is Lithuania? That wasn't really how I thought about it. I thought of Eastern Europe as a whole, and where was the exact spot, I didn't know.” Her mother had passed away, and she had begun to feel she had lost contact with that part of her heritage. She wanted to study Yiddish in the region where her grandfather was from and decided to enroll at the Vilnius Yiddish Institute—though she did not have the overwhelming support of her peers. “People would say to me, 'There's no point going there, there's nothing there.' That's a very common attitude for Jews in my generation to say.” But she didn't believe that.
“I began this journey in a rather one-dimensional way. I wanted to go to Lithuania and connect to my past, only my past, I wasn't seeing outside of the Jewish past. And then I got knocked over by these two surprises.” Just before Cassedy left for Lithuania the first time, her uncle revealed a secret to her about his activities during the Holocaust while living in the ghetto in Šiauliai. When she got to Rokiškis, she was told that there was an elderly man who wanted to speak to her about the things he had witnessed during the war. “Those two things really threw everything up in the air for me and launched me on this really life-changing journey, that really changed how I thought about Lithuania, how I thought about my family, thought about all people; so it really pushed me into a very different place.”
For both women, the experience of writing their books connected them to Lithuania in a way they had not imagined before. “As I started writing this book and getting involved in this project of looking at how Lithuania has been engaging with its 20th century past and with the Holocaust … I went there and started meeting people … and that has made me feel more connected and made me feel like, 'Well yes, I am Lithuanian,'” explained Cassedy.
“My family history—definitely surprising—was that my father was not familiar with what had happened to his family until 1991 when he went back.” She says even then they didn't share the full details with him; their freedom was still fragile. “You didn't talk about what happened in Siberia.”
Both Cassedy and Šepetys express a desire to start a conversation about the events of WWII. “I think that what Ellen is doing is so important, because it's a wound, a wound on Lithuania. And it will continue to bleed until we can clot it somehow,” says Šepetys. “We're third parties, Ellen and I. We didn't loose family members (Editors note: Ellen actually did.), and I understand there's a lot of deep-seeded anger and resentment, but I hope that we can create a dialogue.” Though, she stresses that the crimes of Stalin and Hitler cannot be lumped together.
What became clear to Cassedy was a sense of competing martyrdom; every group wanted to be able to say, No WE suffered the most. “It's not about who suffered the most; everybody needs to be heard.” She believes that we have to remember the past, but to listen and acknowledge each other in order to make a common cause. “We can't just sit in our corners and hate each other generation after generation.”
“Jewish and ethnic Lithuanian cultures lived side by side for many years and absorbed something from each other,” says Cassedy. “What I would like to see is a proud Lithuania, but one that is open to a multiculturalism.” Šepetys echoes that sentiment, “Lithuania is a small country, but it can teach the world large lessons of peaceful endurance, and the miraculous nature of the human spirit.” She says that even though Lithuania is defined by its past, it must look toward the future.
Šepetys studied at Hillsdale college with Dr. Aleksandras Štromas, a prominent Jewish-Lithuanian political scientist and dissident. “He said it's hard to dissect the situation because there is so much overlapping, it's not clear-cut. You can't just point a finger.” Her goal in writing her book was to give people the opportunity to learn about something they might not otherwise learn about. Recently, she was in a school to give a talk and a student said to her, “I knew you were coming, and I looked up Lithuania last night, and you have some really great basketball players!” Šepetys adds, “I'm so happy that people look it up, and know where it is on a map.”
“I do feel a real connection to the people who are going to shape the future of Lithuania, and I feel myself to be one of those people, in a way that I didn't,” explains Cassedy. “It's not my country really. But I'm a sympathetic and interested observer.”
Šepetys says she has a sense of gratitude and patriotism to Lithuania. “I feel so proud to be Lithuanian, I have so much respect for [them], as I've said these people are so patriotic, selfless, generous, courageous, and I aspire—they're like superheroes to me. I'm so proud to be able to carry a Lithuanian name.” About her role as a Lithuanian-American author she says, “I would really hope that Lithuanian-Americans first and foremost help with a very simple thing, which is an awareness of Lithuania.”
Cassedy is hopeful that Lithuania is opening up to a part of its history, which is not only the friction of different peoples living there, but also the possibility that they can enjoy their differences and appreciate each other. I asked her if she knew that her great-grandfather and Šepetys's grandfather hailed from the same region, “I didn't know that!” She laughs, “You know, it's probably like, our relatives brushed shoulders in the marketplace.”
We Are Here is a first person memoir about Cassedy's journey to discover her Litvak heritage while studying Yiddish at Vilnius University. |
Between Shades of Grey is a young adult fiction novel about a 15-year-old girl who is deported to Siberia along with her mother and younger brother. |
Vilnius, the old Jewish Synagogue.
By Aage Myhre, Editor-in-Chief
aage.myhre@VilNews.com
I have repeatedly been asked, by Lithuanians and others why VilNews, and I as a Norwegian without a single drop of Jewish blood, love Jews so much? Recently I met a Lithuanian-American, well educated and well read, who yet bombastically trumpeted. "You lick the asses of the Jews, Aage."
During my meetings with Jews in South Africa, where 90% of the Jewish population of almost 100 000 are of Lithuanian descent, I have also been asked why I have such great interest in Litvaks.
My answer to all these, has been that I do not love Jews more than other peoples.
But I also tend to add that I am always impressed by people who achieve more than the common herd. Intelligence and wisdom are to me among the most important qualities a person can have, and I have no problem admitting that these are qualities I've seen a lot of among the Jews I have known through life.
As to the Litvaks, they were subjected to an almost total extinction here in Lithuania during the Holocaust. It was an assault and a genocide of an unimaginable scale that we must never forget, and which memory must find its fair balance in the mental as well as in the practical.
On 4 April, the United States and many other countries welcomed the decision of the Government of Lithuania to appoint a fund for Jewish property compensation, calling it an important historical step toward justice.
“This law is an important step towards the restoration of historical justice and reconciliation. We welcome these and other Lithuanian Government’s steps evaluating the legacy of the Holocaust”, the U.S. ambassador to Lithuania, Anne E. Derse, said in a statement.
The Cabinet of Minister’s decision was also praised by the special U.S. envoy on issues of anti-Semitism, Hannah Rosenthal, who said that the United States supports Lithuania’s efforts to “evaluate the complex history of the period, and the commitment to fully implement the legal framework on compensation.”
I agree with both ladies. This was a step in the right direction in terms of the relationship between the Lithuanian Jews, and what once was their beloved homeland.
Then there are Litvaks who seem to blame Lithuania and Lithuanians for everything that happened here during the Holocaust. In the Baltimore Sun this week, as an example, Olga Zabludoff writes that “Lithuania tries to whitewash its role in the Holocaust.” This in response to the Lithuanian government’s decision to establish the mentioned fund.
Usually I tend to have great respect for Olga Zabludoff’s opinions, but in this case, she goes too far. There must be limits to how much one should scorn and distrust a country and its leaders for everything they do.
Fortunately, there are also many moderate Litvaks. Ellen Cassedy in Washington and Irena Veisaite here in Vilnius are good models in this respect. Feel free to read my interview with Dr. Veisaite, here https://vilnews.com/?p=2595
The problem I see is that there is still a considerable gap between Litvaks and many of today's ethnic Lithuanians, as I have described above. It seems that many on both sides do not want peace and reconciliation. They do not like each other, simply, and seems to be more interested in finding errors than points of light. Such behaviours do not build bridges or enhance reconciliation. Perhaps it’s now time for both sides to become more friendly and forgiving towards each other?
Unfortunately, Lithuania is today a poor country, and to pay $ 50M is a tremendous burden on a people who are struggling more than most in Europe, but fortunately this is balanced to a very large extent by the huge, annual support
payments from the EU, Switzerland and Norway.
Germany still pays, even today, more than 60 years after WWII, in an exemplary manner for the Nazi atrocities against Lithuania and the Jewish population here. Unfortunately, there is no sign that Russia will ever do the same, for the colossal atrocities they committed against Lithuanians during and after the war. Those who lost loved ones in Siberia or in the huge bloody guerrilla warfare that went on here for 10 years after the war, will never get any compensation, I'm afraid.
My first encounter with a Jew, in the spring of 1959, took place far north in Norway
The small farm I grew up on is located on the island Senja, far north in Norway. It was by far the smallest in my native village. But my father had always collected books. Lots of books. Good books. So our little house had shelves with books from cellar to attic. And I had early thrown myself into the reading of them all, so even though we were poor materially, I felt that we were rich in many other ways.
My first trip out from the island occurred in 1959, when I was six years old, and my father and I went to the nearest small town, Harstad, with the local boat an early spring morning. What an experience! We did our first stroll around in the town so my father could do his errands. Then he took me to a cafe. What a fantastic experience! Meatballs and mushy peas as main course and blueberry porridge with cream for dessert!
In the afternoon we came to a green house in the middle of the town. "Men Outfits" was written on a large sign above the entrance door to the shop which formed the ground floor. But it was not there my father steered us. He took me up a small outdoor concrete staircase to a door on the side of the green building. There, he pressed a button.
I had obviously never seen or used a bell, so in my curious enthusiasm, I did as my father had done: - I pressed the button next to the door so fast that my father did not manage to stop me in time. He took my hand brusquely away from the call button. Then we heard steps. Heavy steps coming slowly down the internal stairs, a staircase we still could not see.
The door opened, and two good friends embraced each other. My strict Christian father and Polish-Jewish Meyer Sokolsky very much enjoyed the reunion and meeting there at the doorway to this green house in the middle of Harstad.
It smelled smoke all the way down to the entrance. The room we soon come up to was heavily fogged by smoke from pipe and cigarettes.
But what a dream of a room! Filled with books from floor to ceiling. Books on tables and chairs. Books everywhere.
I thought I had come to paradise. My first encounter with a Jew had become a reality...
The farm I grew up on is located on the island Senja, far north in Norway. It was by far the smallest in my native village.
But my father had always collected books. Lots of books. Good books. So our little house had shelves with books
from cellar to attic. And I had early thrown myself into the reading of them all, so even though we were poor
materially, I felt that we were rich in many other ways.
Photo, by Hugo Løhre, of my tiny home village, Olaheim.
There are very strong communities of Jews of Lithuanian descent (Litvaks) around the world, especially in Israel, the United States, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Brazil and Australia.
In all these countries they hold top positions in politics, economy, science, culture and society in general.
Their names are frequently found among the Nobel laureates and in many other honorable contexts.
They often lead in matters and innovations that affect and influence us all, wherever in the world we live.
So also in the U.S., where they have been prominent leaders in economics, science and culture since the 1800s. It is, for example, said that Hollywood would not have existed had it not been for the Litvaks.
Litvaks are Jews with roots in the Grand Duchy of Lithuania: (present-day Lithuania, Belarus, Ukraine, and the northeastern Suwałki region of Poland).
Lithuania was historically home to a large and influential Jewish community that was almost entirely eliminated during the Holocaust. Before World War II there were over 110 synagogues and 10 yeshivas in Vilnius alone. Before World War II, the Lithuanian Jewish population was some 160,000, about 7% of the total population. Vilnius (then Wilno in the Second Polish Republic) had a Jewish community of nearly 100,000, about 45% of the city's total.
The reason for the Litvaks’ huge success is likely to be found in the fact that Vilnius through many centuries was considered the Jewish intellectual and cultural capital, with a huge number of teachers and scholars who taught and ruled this tiny community with wisdom and deep knowledge about a large number of disciplines.
Tolerance and interpersonal respect was also a hallmark of this community and for the whole of Lithuania through hundreds of years.
It was this that made Napoleon to name Vilnius as "Jerusalem of the North" when he came here on his way to Moscow in 1812. It is said that Napoleon himself became very surprised on what met him in Vilnius, a city so far away from the European mainstreams and still with a lively Mediterranean mood and life.
Vilnius was the first and only "Jewish city" Napoleon would ever see. He was no doubt aware of the Crusades, Inquisitions, pogroms and laws designed to discourage Judaic life. But here he had found a city, right before his eyes, that was an amazing exception to the rule.
And true enough, the history of the Litvaks is unusual and surprising. It was a history of mostly peaceful coexistence with other peoples and cultures that lasted for more than six centuries. It was a history that spawned an incredible number of eminent Jews, not the least of whom was Elijah ben Solomon Zalman (1720-1797), also known as “The Gaon of Vilnius”.
The "Golden Age of Jewry" in Lithuania started with Grand Duke Gediminas (1275-1341), the empire builder who took a liking to foreigners and Jews whose skills and education were badly needed in medieval Lithuania. In the early 1300's he attracted them to his realm with numerous perks, including guarantees of religious freedom and tax exemptions.
The Jews of Europe responded in droves, and Vilnius became the heralded centre of Jewish culture and learning. There would be synagogues, schools, theatres, publishing houses and the Yiddish Institute of Higher Learning. At a time when others in Europe were effectively illiterate, all the Jews in Vilnius could read and write.
This was so unusual that it provoked the invention of a brand-new word, "Vilner," meaning "an educated man with knowledge." For almost 700 years, the Litvaks became an inseparable part of Lithuanian society, having enriched the country’s economy, culture, science, and education.
Julija Šukys,
Author of Epistolophilia: Writing the Life of Ona Šimaitė
Julija Šukys interviewed by Ellen Cassedy
In her new book, Epistolophilia, Julija Šukys follows the letters and journals—the “life-writing”—of Ona Šimaitė (1894–1970), a Lithuanian librarian who again and again slipped into the Jewish ghetto of German-occupied Vilnius carrying food, clothes, medicine, money, and counterfeit documents. Often she left with letters to deliver, manuscripts to hide, and even sedated children swathed in sacks. In 1944 she was captured by the Gestapo, tortured for twelve days, and deported to Dachau.
Šukys beckons back to life this quiet and worldly heroine. Ona Šimaitė is a giant of Holocaust history – one of the “Righteous among the Nations” honored at the Yad Vashem memorial in Israel – and yet little known.
Julija Šukys lives in Montreal, Canada. In addition to Epistolophilia, she is also the author of Silence Is Death; The Life and Work of Tahar Djaout. Visit her website at http://julijasukys.com.
What led Šimaitė to become a rescuer?
This is perhaps one of the most difficult questions to answer. What leads some people to behave in one way, and others differently? Where do such convictions and courage come from?
Šimaitė rarely addressed the question of why she did what she did, perhaps because she couldn’t imagine behaving otherwise, so to her mind there was nothing to explain. She once wrote that she simply acted out of a “feeling of humanity and comradery.”
Initially, her motivations were perhaps personal: after saying tearful goodbyes to friends as they prepared to leave for the ghetto, she searched for a way to penetrate its security to visit them. Once she started to visit the ghetto regularly, her mission broadened, and she began to undertake helping anyone she could.
Šimaitė lived according to a strict moral code – she never lied, she abhorred the feeling of indebtedness or dependence, and she absolutely rejected the pursuit of wealth or material gain. This code and a strong individualism are what defined the choices she made in her life.
Šimaitė is hailed as a heroine, yet you present her as a flawed human being.
I set out to create a nuanced portrait of a woman who acted with astounding courage, but who was nevertheless human. Early in my research, I came across a letter that Šimaitė concluded by writing, “love me with all my faults.” “What faults?” I wondered, “What is she referring to?” But, of course, we all have faults. They are what make us human. Šimaitė’s deep sense of compassion and capacity for forgiveness came from her understanding of this fact.
Some say the rescuers were saints, yet we learn from your book that Šimaitė would have hated being beatified. Why?
I imagine Šimaitė found it difficult to take pride in saving those she did since so many others perished, including some people very close to her. Perhaps her acts of resistance seemed to be drops that just disappeared into a vast ocean of tragedy and cruelty.
Šimaitė was tortured and confined in the camp at Dachau, yet didn’t want to talk or write about that. Can you share your thoughts on how a person – or a nation – engages with painful memories?
Šimaitė’s experience at Dachau constitutes the great silence in her writing and life. With the exception of a handful of passing references in her letters and diaries, she breathed nothing of her time there. Though I’m no psychologist, I believe this silence is indicative of a very deep trauma. For her, Dachau marked the limit of what was sayable and writeable.
In the end I decided not to try to fill Šimaitė’s silence, but to write around it, and give an image of how her camp experiences echoed throughout the rest of her life. I suppose you could say I tried to create a kind of chalk outline of her camp experience. The book traces the limits of that experience, but doesn’t try to fill in the void. I chose to respect her right to silence, and to consider silence itself as a subject worthy of contemplation.
In your book, you say you’re engaged in a conversation with Šimaitė. Can you tell us more?
I went to the archives looking for answers to questions about the Holocaust in Lithuania – the country of my parents and grandparents – and came across an incredible and largely untouched collection of Šimaitė’s papers. I was a person with a curious skill set (knowledge of Lithuanian, French, German, Russian; training in literary criticism) that seemed perfectly matched to writing Šimaitė’s life story.
I felt as if Šimaitė had foreseen my arrival, and that she’d prepared for it by saving and archiving her papers. In undertaking the project, we entered into an agreement: in return for my telling her story, Šimaitė would answer some of the questions that had been nagging at me.
Finally, can you describe for us your connection to Lithuania?
Lithuanian was the language of my childhood. I grew up speaking the language at home in Toronto, and I learned to read and write it by attending Saturday schools. Beyond life itself, a knowledge of their language is perhaps the greatest gift my parents gave me.
I’ve been to Lithuania many times, and my relationship to that place is simultaneously one of belonging and alienation. Though I get great pleasure from speaking Lithuanian in shops and restaurants, and though I experience a sense a connection to my ancestors when I walk through the fields they once worked, I nevertheless feel that I don’t really belong there. It may be that writing about Lithuania is a way for me to work through these conflicting sensations.
Now, my relationship to Lithuania and its language is increasingly textual. Like Šimaitė, I spend much of my time alone, with books, and conversing with the dead through their writings and in my imagination.
Ellen Cassedy |
Text & Photos: Jenifer C. Dillis
Founder/Researcher at JCD Photography
Lives in East Bridgewater, Massachusetts
From Brockton, Massachusetts
Please join me and my eight biological sisters and three nieces, as we venture to The Homeland of our four grandparents. Having grown up as “purebred” Lithuanian-Americans, we 16 siblings are gifted to have parents who share their pride with us. (We sisters left our seven brothers back in The States, while we took our trip in June-July 2007).
Whether it was attending Lithuanian School to attempt to learn the beautiful language, dancing as members of folk dance groups, or learning to play the Kankles, we each have a level of that same pride in our heritage. Though some of us may own more “Lietuva” souvenirs than others, we all are strong, stubborn, determined, and addicted to Kugelis!
Our journey landed us in Vilnius, where the spirits of our ancestors met us warmly. How can I possibly describe the emotion of having landed in the capital of the country we had only ever heard, or dreamed about? We walked the cobblestone streets, window-shopped for Gintaras, and some of us even ventured down alleys. We felt nothing but safe and free in OUR homeland! From the powerful presence of the free-flying flags of Lietuva, to the steeple of St. Casimir’s Church, we were “home.” The locals were familiar faces. We had seen them in our own Lithuanian parish back home.
If being a Lithuanian-American or American-Lithuanian means anything to you, I suggest and recommend a visit to The Homeland. Go shove your feet into the sands of The Dunes, search for that one piece of amber along the rough shores. Pull up a chair at a local bar, and order a round of Svyturys for the crowd. Search the birth records of your ancestors. Touch the doorknob of the Church that your own grandmother may have touched. Look up while walking the cobblestones of Vilnius. Chances are there will be someone on a balcony. And that someone may be your own flesh and blood.
From faded wooden houses to the halls and courtyards of Vilnius University, the oldest university in Eastern Europe, we traveled as eager students for our guide.
We spent some time cringing as we walked the halls of the KGB “museum.” The most heart-breaking photos were those of the orphans. What shocked, and sickened me most, was the fact that up until August 1991, that building had been “in use.” I took many photos in there, but choose to not share such memories.
The Villagers of Zervynos preserve old traditions, and their own way of life. As we walked, we witnessed a gathering of the villagers. They were sadly heading toward the cemetery. What caught my eye was the woman carrying her purse!?! WHY would she need her purse in the cemetery, in the middle of the woods, in an isolated village?!? We spent a day there eating food prepared just for us. And we were entertained by our own private singers who had to endure the hottest of July afternoons while in full ethnic costume. One particular singer was so smiley with her direct eye contact. We did not understand a single spoken word, and we all got along wonderfully!
We toured Trakai Castle and Old Kaunas for some window shopping down medieval streets. The Gintaras shops caught our attention everywhere we went! Not one of us left Lietuva without a new piece of jewelry. The flower-draped balconies clung to the colorless buildings, and the people seemed to be neither rushed nor bothered by 12 American women taking over their quiet streets.
Yet another happening which struck a chord with me, was witnessing The Flag Women of Kaunas! I spotted a Lithuanian flag hanging in a non-traveled backside of buildings. I took a picture of it from my hotel room because THAT alone was very encouraging, moving, emotional to know SOMEBODY hung that there where no one would really even SEE it. It seemed done more for PRIDE! While walking that morning, we spotted The Flag Women actually going around with bundles of flags, and placing them up all over the buildings.
We asked our tour guide ahead of time, to help us find our grandparents’ places of birth. We DID find Zasliai, and felt the instant spirit of our departed grandmother. “The Church on The Lake” was still standing, as it had been in her stories to our Dad. We sisters stood on its huge steps, and touched its red bricks…for Dad.
We visited Church after Church, ate fabulous meals, drove kilometer after kilometer, and found ourselves thirsty for a beer!!! We discovered The Svyturys Brewery in Klaipeda, and indulged properly.
Neringa was our next destination. If I followed the story correctly, Neringa was a “giant” who carried sand in her apron to form the Curonian Spit to protect the Fisherman’s Village, etc from the waves of the crashing, rough waves of The Baltic Sea. There can be not the proper words written to express the sensations I felt just knowing I would soon be at The Baltic Sea. This was a dream trip come true! Who would be the first to find a washed-up piece of amber? The Curonian’s huge, blank sand dunes and forests make it a very unique and enchanting place to visit.
Somewhere in there, there MUST be at least one piece of amber…J
Off the beach, and up to The Dunes on the lagoon’s side of The Spit.
We visited Churches, shopped many more Gintaras shops, heard more stories of horror lived out by many Lithuanians, drank a few more glasses of Svyturys, cried a few more tears as we missed our loved ones back home, bonded as only sisters and nieces could, ate more delicious REAL Lithuanian foods, eventually figured out the conversion of Litas and American Dollars, had the rare opportunity to practice reciting The Lord’s Prayer IN LITHUANIAN during an impromptu Baptism invitation, visited MORE Churches, knocked on the workshop door of a local woodcarver, and arrived at The Hill of Crosses.
I remember the tears of sadness and ethnic pride in our Dad’s eyes, as we told him that we “Dillis Girls” left a cross on The Hill. Our Mother always used to admit being “a stubborn Lithuanian,” and no place proves the value and strength of stubbornness, more than the earlier days of The Hill. The courage of the Lithuanian rebels and pilgrims against the militia and KGB stood strong then.
May the future Lietuva hold for those, what it held for us 12 visitors: pride, hope, strength, determination, and a sense of bonding to see through struggles and obstacles.
If being a Lithuanian-American or American-Lithuanian means anything to you, I suggest and recommend a visit to The Homeland. Go shove your feet into the sands of The Dunes, search for that one piece of amber along the rough shores. Pull up a chair at a local bar, and order a round of Svyturys for the crowd. Search the birth records of your ancestors. Touch the doorknob of the Church that your own grandmother may have touched. Look up while walking the cobblestones of Vilnius. Chances are there will be someone on a balcony. And that someone may be your own flesh and blood.
Wish we could do it all again! |
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Lithuania Hall, Brockton, Massachusetts, 1913
This article was written by JOHN BERNOTAVICZ, BS, MS, PhD (1913-2009) for Lituanus (Lithuanian quarterly journal of arts and sciences) in 1990
MY SALUTE TO THE LITHUANIANS OF BROCKTON, MASSACHUSETTS
JOHN BERNOTAVICZ, BS, MS, PhD
On Sunday, April 24, 1988, l drove from Hyannis to Plymouth to pick up Mrs. Florence Melevsky, my sister-in-law, so we could attend the 90th anniversary for St. Rocco-St. Casimir Parish in Brockton. Originally, all we had was a basement church, as l remember it. Now, over the basement towers a huge bell-towered edifice.
The following credentials will establish my family and my roots in this parish.
My father, Mykolas Juozas Bernotavicius from Marcinkonys, Lithuania, was married on June 1, 1905, to Ona Geceviciute from Varėna, Lithuania, by Father M. Peza in the old wooden church on Webster Street. Later, this building became our church hall. Although my parents had four children, l was the only one to survive beyond infancy. Because my birth occurred on St. John's Day, June 24,1913, l was baptized John. On June 11, 1939, l married Amelia Veronica Jermolaviciute (the youngest of seven sisters) in this basement church by Father John Svagzdys. Our two children, John (a graduate of Notre Dame University and Georgetown Law School) and Mary (a graduate of the Georgetown School of Nursing) were christened here in 1943 and 1946, respectively. In addition to the above data, my parents and my wife were buried from this church.
As we descended the steps to the hall, a flood of memories of long ago surged through my mind. Nowhere in sight did l see the confessionals, nor the organ or choir loft, nor any pews or stations of the cross, nor any main altar with two side altars—only a huge expansive area filled with long tables and chairs prepared for a family-style feast for the parishioners and friends of the parish. At one end we saw an hors d'hoeuvres table. Other tables along the sides of the building were lined with pictures, photos, newspaper clippings of past functions, mementoes of other activities and paraphenalia illustrating past history of its parish and people.
During the 1920-1935 era, Brockton, a bustling city of 55,000-65,000 inhabitants, was known as the world's largest shoe manufacturing center. Most of the parishioners of St. Rocco worked in such factories as W.L. Douglas, E.E. Taylor, Geo. E. Keith, Diamond Shoe, Field and Flint, etc. Their buildings covered blocks and blocks of acreage and thousands and thousands of people were employed therein.
The Montello section of the city is located in the northeastern end of town. This "village" as we called it was the principal home of most of the parishioners. It was about two miles from the only high school we had and from the center of the downtown section.
All of my youthful activities centered around the church, the hall and the ward six playground next to the hall. l remember the beautiful religious processions, the festivals, the plays put on by the children of Mary, the choir participation, the musicals and the Saturday movies in the hall. The area around the hall seemed to be the starting point for parades, church festivals, for rides to the church owned Romuva Park, etc.
l recall the Franklin Grade School not far from the church where a tow-headed, blue-eyed youngster being led to Miss Clark's first grade room by his mother and being told "Būk geras vaikelis" (be a good child) in Lithuanian. Almost all of my classmates spoke Lithuanian only, except for what English we picked up at the playground from older kids.
My small world was filled with private homes and three-decker apartments, small businesses and stores of all types. Brockton was bisected by the South Shore Railroad to Boston (as was our village). The trolley line from downtown ran down Ames St., Intervale St, Bellevue Avenue and ended on Sawtelle Avenue to carry workers to the various shoe factories. Of course, the trolley was also our way of getting to high school. I recall how adept some of us got at opening the back door of the car to let non-paying students hop in.
One other point about our village was its proximity to the ward six playground with its swings, baseball diamond, etc. This was my entry to the sport of baseball. Years later, I became the playground supervisor during my college years.
The village seemed to be full of Lithuanian merchants catering to the tastes and needs of their compatriots. Those I remember with much affection are:
1. Bakers: Suppliers of rye and raisin breads, prepared food for weddings, Thanksgiving, Christmas and even for post-funeral affairs.
Radauskas, Kilkus, Duoba and Wallen Bakers.
2. Grocery stores-meat markets: Sold home made kilbasa and kopusta, pickled herring and horseradish, etc.
Abracinskas, Balchunas, Axtin, Belkis. Bellevue Ave. Bucys, Gaigal, Kaslauskas, Kodis, Moncevich, Sviokla, Uozis, Vismantas, Yukna and Zinkevicz Markets.
3. Pharmacies and drug stores: Kvaraceus, Miskinis, Visman and Walangevich.
4. Dry goods, furniture, shoes, post office: Kaseta, Paulauskiene, Pranaitiene and Stasys Grigus, Karzis, Mickevich, Mickevich.
5. Miscellaneous Businesses: Cafés and restaurants, candy stores, cobblers and plumbers, Godfrey coal and grain, Germanavicius Barber Shop, funeral home, Kasper's pool hall-bowling alleys, Matulis printing shop, several social clubs, Yakavonis bath house.
Certainly this is an impressive listing suggesting a rather self-contained and self-sufficient community.
Lithuanian was spoken and understood in any of these establishments. It occurs to me that Ed Cassidy, the patrolman on the beat, knew many basic Lithuanian phrases and terms. Many years later, Lithuanian names showed up on the rolls of the police dept., fire dept., as teachers in schools, in politics and also as small manufacturers.
As the banquet droned on with its splendid speeches and musical interludes and presentation by his honor the mayor of Brockton, Carl Pitaro, more memories flashed through my mind's eye.
In 1917, World War l was still raging in Europe and l recall a visit from my uncle Peter Chestnut to bid us farewell before being shipped to France. He arrived with a huge rifle and in uniform. For our edification, he fixed a bayonet to the rifle and proceeded to show us "present arms." Noting a child's interest in the rifle, he asked me whether l would like to perform the same maneuver. Naturally, my trial was a colossal and stupendous failure. The heavy rifle knocked me on my butt and fell across my little body. The result was a screaming, crying, frightened four-year-old child!
l was 10 years of age in 1923, and received my first communion from Father John Svagzdys in our basement church. Immediately after the service, we hurried across the street to the professional photographer to have my picture taken with my new knickers—and new Converse sneakers!
It was in this parish that l had my first exposure with death. My childhood buddy, Ralph Willen, had been shipped to Colorado to recover from tuberculosis. One year later, they returned him in a pine box. His grandmother asked me to be one of the pall bearers. She lived in a three-decker apartment and Ralph was waked there. This handsome giant, over six feet tall, had to be toted down three floors of rather narrow, winding stairs to the hearse on the ground floor. We arrived safely and were relieved that no accident had occurred!
How can I forget the cold Easter morning services when my family trudged through, down the Ames Street Hill, to the church. Occasionally we would have drifts of snow as high as the roof of our one-level church building.
Of course, I remember the church pageants in which parishioners dressed as Roman soldiers to guard the tomb of Jesus Christ. Nor can I fail to recall how frightening it was for a child to sit through the Lithuanian missions and listen to sermons filled with hell-fire and damnations being bellowed at me by Father Chaplickas from Chicago, III. No place to run and hide oneself except under the wing of one's parents.
Then I recall what a pleasant treat it was to go to the Saturday afternoon movies in the church hall. Here we saw all the silent stars like Tom Mix, Wm. S. Hart, Hoot Gibson, Charley Chaplin, Fatty Arbuckle, Tarzan, Pearl White, Mary Pickford, etc. During these shows, piano music was provided by Adolph Krush or Frances Kaseta. l considered it to be quite an honor to sit up front and turn their pages. Meanwhile, up in the balcony, the young generation was holding hands and smooching with their girl friends. 0, yes, we had proctors upstairs.
Each Saturday morning, we would go to Lithuanian classes to be able to read and write the language. I still have the certificate indicating that I had acquired these prerequisites.
The parish owned a lovely acreage a couple miles away which was called Romuva Park. Events here were quite varied from sports, to dancing, to huge picnics at which hundreds of Lithuanians from surrounding parishes would spend the day celebrating holidays and feast days. One of the outstanding features here was the clay tennis courts. Many a game did Brony Bartkevicz, Bennie Yezukevich, Ernie Yukna and I have here. Of course we played baseball here also. Not the least interesting was the fact that we learned Lithuanian and American dances here, under the tutelage of Frances Galinsky, Vincenta Treinavich, Florence and Amelia Jermolavich and others. I must mention that Paul Sakas and his brother John were two of the better New England tennis players in this era. Paul, of course, became our choir director.
Another treasured experience took place while Father Kneizys was our curate. He had a wonderful facility for translating and transposing American songs, operas, musicals, etc., into Lithuanian. After adequate practice and training, his cast would take these shows on the road to other parishes like Norwood, Stoughton, Cambridge, South Boston, Lowell, Lawrence, Hudson, etc.
Being asked to join the senior choir at the age of 16 was certainly a wonderful memory and honor. Our choir directors were all interesting people. Messrs. Banys, Burke and Sakas did yeoman service for this parish. They kept us a closely knit as a group at picnics to such places as Mayflower Grove in Bryantville and Nantasket Beach. Mr. Burke would hire a symphony orchestra and soloist to assist us when we performed "The Seven Last Words of Christ."
Paul Sakas, our local boy, entered our chorus in a New England songfest held at the symphony hall in Boston. Competition was against some of the best professional chorus groups around, something rather incredible occurred when the "kids" from the village came in first! l remember the phonetic melody "Dzimdzi Drimzi" did the trick as our final song. Wonder what ever became of the trophy?
Because our church hall was adjacent to ward six playground, we spent lots of time here. l played for the under-16-years-old team and we won our league many times. Years later, after passing an exam, l became a playground supervisor (as did Virginia Pekarski).
One day, Peter Couble asked me to play for St. Rocco's Baseball Team. Long before l joined, St. Rocco's had their own "Charley Hustle" or Ty Cobb in the person of Frank Couble. He fought for everything and anything whether it was a stolen base, close pitch or a fielding call. When he slid into a base, he came at you with spikes flying. He backed down to no one despite his small stature. This team had a great group of athletes. I recall pitchers like Dom Bartkus, Peter Pieski, Peter Chestnut and even me, catchers like J. Chestnut, J. Kvaraceus, W. Melesky, F. Svirsky, M. Yakavonis, J. Petkunas, A. Couple, J. Tamuleviches and A. Snyder. We would play anyone including, K. of C. teams and town teams from Hanson, Hanover, Whitman, Stoughton, Plymouth, Sandwich, and even Providence R.l. My highlight was pitching against the House of David from Benton Harbor, Michigan. Their team was composed of old timers from the major leagues. In spite of pitching an eight-hit game, we were beaten 2 to 0.
Education was a very important cog in my life and the life of my family. My dad got his sixth-grade certificate from Franklin School before he obtained his citizenship papers. Because he could read and write in Lithuanian, English, Polish and Russian, my mother would always tell me there was no need for her to acquire these talents. Much later, when her Mykolas died, with lots of sweat and tears and persistence, she learned to write her name at the age of 55.
My own Brockton High School Class of 1931 enrolled a total of 866 students in the freshman class and after four years, we graduated 433. In this graduating class, l found a total of 36 Lithuanian names on the final roll.
Realizing that these were the depression years, this was an outstanding honor for the parents of this parish.
To illustrate the esteem our folks had for knowledge and education, l will attempt to recall the people l knew who went to college, graduate schools, etc.
l beg the indulgence of those whom l may have missed, for any errors and omissions l have made, since memory often plays nasty tricks on one:
Amherst College: Julius Kastantin
Alabama, University Of: Joseph Mastovick, Joseph Miskinis
Bentley School of Finance: Walter Melevsky, Vincent Smalukas
Boston College: John Sakas, Paul Sakas, Charles Vaichulis
Boston University: Ed Abrachinskas, Dr., Elizabeth Belkis, Ann Duoba, Nellie Jermolavich, A. Mathews, Vincent Mazgelis, Emily Oksas, Julia Sviokla, Leonard Tamulevich, lawyer, John Williams
Bridgewater State College: Elaine Kamandulis, Florence Kamandulis, Julia Matulis, Lena Matulis, Virginia Pekarski, M.S. Mass State
Brown University: Adolph Sharkey, Harry Sharkey, Francisc Yukna
Burdett College: Ralph Stitilis
Canisius College: Peter Miskinis
Catholic University: Julius Stangis
Fordham University: Julius Miskinis, Michael Miskinis, Walter Uzdavinis
Harvard University: William Kvaraceus, PhD Holy Cross College: John Biaorunas, Hippolit Monkevich, Casimer Yakavonis
Georgetown University: Charles Vaichulis Northeastern University: Sylvester Sviokla
Mass. Inst. Technology: John Greze, Ed. Mickevich, Melvin Mickevich
Pierce Secretorial: Amelia Jermolavich, Alice Yakavonis
Providence College: john Bernotavicz, MS, PhD, Mass State
Rhode Island State College: Michael Grigas, John Roanowicz
School of Pharmacy: Al Miskinis, Len Vismantas, Al Walengevich
Simmons College: Ėlaine Pekarski, Bertha Bartkus
Suffolk Law: Julia Yakavonis
Tufts University: Al Budreski, doctor, Joseph Kvaraceus, doctor
Washington State College: Al Balchunas
Wentworth Institute: Joseph Ykasala
William and Mary College: Matthew Yakavonis
Yale University: Ramanauskas
U.S. Coast Guard Academy: Captain Walter Bakutis, Captain Peter Smenton (Smetonis)
U.S. Military Academy: Colonel Ralph Chesnauskas
U.S. Naval Academy: Admiral Alex Couble, Admiral Fred Bakutis, Admiral Peter Moncy (Moncevich)
In addition to the above, we had the following professional people whose affiliation I did not recall (at college or university); Dr. A. Mason, dentist; Dr. Al Waitkus, osteopathic surgeon; Dr. Al Glenn Gecevich), optometrist;
Peter Kvaraceus, lawyer,
A grand total of 30 schools from all over the United States— and all in my youthful years.
This parish was also blessed with the following children of parishioners who dedicated their lives to the religious vocations: Reverend A. Abracinskas, Reverend A. Baltrashunas, Reverend J. Kasmandulis, Reverend J. Long, Reverend J. Prusaitis, Reverend S. Saulenas, Reverend A. Sheputa, Reverend E. Sviokla, Sister M. Audyaitis, Sister A. Balberis, Sister M. Dambrauskas, Sister M. Grazevich, Sister A. Valentukevich, Sister M. Treinavich, Sister M. Tamulevich, Sister M. Zemeikis, Sister M. Jushkaitis, Sister C. Mazgelis, Sister E. Sakas.
I am certain that there were others who started college but for one reason or another did not have the opportunity to matriculate. To each and everyone, a grand huzzah! If, as one of the speakers stated in his remarks, the religious were the stars of this parish, it is my contention that the graduates were the nova of the parish and the parents should be classed as the super nova!!
It was these parents who were the backbone of the parish and were who scrimped, saved and suffered toward the education goals for their progeny and were the ones who contributed to the parish needs.
God was good then and continues to be forever.
At last I can set aside my emotional thoughts and memories and return to the enjoyment of the food and entertainment of this banquet.
I will always wonder how many other Lithuanian parishes can match what the people of St. Rocco's-St. Casimir's has accomplished.
St. Casimir Church in Brockton closed in 2008
Over the past years, six Catholic parishes in Brockton have closed or merged, making the city one of the hardest hit by the Boston Archdiocese's reconfiguration process. In 2008 St. Casimir Church, a 110-year-old Lithuanian parish held its final service…
Read more…
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Lithuanian Brockton disappears
Nearly a century after she was born in Brockton’s Lithuanian Village, Helen Savilonis Giovanello still remembers the aroma of Lithuanian bread baking at Kilkus Bakery. She remembers the lush flower gardens grown by Lithuanian immigrants. She remembers her family’s well-tended home at 18 Albert St. and her days at the neighborhood’s Franklin Elementary School.
But most of all, she remembers the solidarity of the people who lived in that northeast section of Brockton. “It was a cluster of Lithuanian people that were all friendly with the church,” says Giovanello, now 98.Those days are over. The Lithuanian Village is but a shadow of the once-vibrant enclave, and the expected closing later this month of the venerable St. Casimir Church may mark the end of the Lithuanian community in Brockton.
Read more…
“I will always wonder how many other Lithuanian parishes can match what
the people of St. Rocco's-St. Casimir's has accomplished.”
St. Casimir Church in Brockton closed in 2008
Over the past years, six Catholic parishes in Brockton have closed or merged, making the city one of the hardest hit by the Boston Archdiocese's reconfiguration process. In 2008 St. Casimir Church, a 110-year-old Lithuanian parish held its final service…
Read more…
____________________________________________________________________
Lithuanian Brockton disappears
Nearly a century after she was born in Brockton’s Lithuanian Village, Helen Savilonis Giovanello still remembers the aroma of Lithuanian bread baking at Kilkus Bakery. She remembers the lush flower gardens grown by Lithuanian immigrants. She remembers her family’s well-tended home at 18 Albert St. and her days at the neighborhood’s Franklin Elementary School.
But most of all, she remembers the solidarity of the people who lived in that northeast section of Brockton. “It was a cluster of Lithuanian people that were all friendly with the church,” says Giovanello, now 98.Those days are over. The Lithuanian Village is but a shadow of the once-vibrant enclave, and the expected closing later this month of the venerable St. Casimir Church may mark the end of the Lithuanian community in Brockton.
Read more…
Boston, Massachusetts, July 1, 2012
Lithuanian folk dance group of Vilnius Gediminas technical university
The Boston Lithuanian American Community will be hosting as many as 47 Lithuanian folk dance groups from around the world. The dance festival is held every four years and for the first time will be coming to Boston. The festival begins with an entry march, as 1,800 dancers dressed in distinctive folk costumes fill the stadium floor, then together perform intricately choreographed dances, creating a kalaidescope of movement, music and color.
Come experience this celebration of Lithuanian dance and culture!
Learn more at: http://www.sokiusvente2012.org/
Slideshow commemorating 50 seasons of Boston Lithuanian Cultural Saturday evenings (Subatvakaris) and 60 years of the National Lithuanian Society of America, Boston Chapter (Amerikos Lietuvių Tautinė Sąjunga (ALTS)). Background singing from the Vilnius University girls choir Virgo performing during the cultural part of the jubilee program, November 7, 2009, at the South Boston Lithuanian Citizens Association, 368 W. Broadway, South Boston, Massachusetts USA.
The slideshow includes pictures of events and the founders at the Boston Chapter's National Lithuanian Society House at 484 Fourth Street in South Boston, MA from the 1950's to 1980's. After selling the building, and a period of inactivity, the Subatvakaris cultural evenings were revived in the 2000's and are now held at the South Boston Lithuanian Citizens Association, 368 W. Broadway, South Boston, MA.
Draugas article (in Lithuanian), http://www.draugas.org/12-03-09boston.html
Visit: LT NEWS |
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Visit: The Lithuanian Rat Pack |
“In this new media age, there is a growing population interested in Lithuania and its culture. LTnews.net provides a simple, easy-to-access platform with a social media aspect that has re-shaped the way people can seek a topic of interest.”
This write the enthusiasts behind the site and the Facebook page LT NEWS in their introduction to the page. They represent one of many new social media in the United States with Lithuania as the main theme. Combined, these sites have revived a strong, energetic interest in the home country here at the southern shore of the Baltic Sea.
There are many, many more than the four we mentioned above, and there are similar sites in many other countries. Please contact us if you represent one of these sites, and we will eventually put together a more comprehensive overview and presentation here in VilNews.
Linas Johansonas,
LTnews.net Editor-in-Chief
Linas Johansonas, chief editor of Ltnews, think we were too negative in our article about the tomb of President Smetona, where we used the title "No flowers for Smetona." Linas believes that the tomb is visited and honoured by many. To convince us of this, he invited me to Cleveland so I can see with my own eyes.
He also thinks there is more I should do while in Cleveland…
***
Aage, after you visit President Smetona's grave in Cleveland, make sure you visit Cleveland's historic Lithuanian Cultural Garden :)
Lithuanian Cultural Garden in Cleveland Ohio
The Lithuanian Cultural Garden was dedicated October 11, 1936.
Lithuanian Cultural Garden in Cleveland Ohio
www.clevelandpeople.com
Photos from the Lithuanian Cultural Garden in Cleveland Ohio - statues of Vincas Kudirka, Pillars of Gediminas, Jonas Basanavicius, Fountain of Biruta , Maironis
Checkout some of my photos from the LT garden in this photo album http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1046292712242.2009191.1073375623&type=3
Lithuanians
Photos by: Linas Johansonas
By: Linas Johansonas
http://www.facebook.com/groups/52628882669/
Friends of the Lithuanian Cultural Garden of Cleveland
"One of Cleveland's Cultural Gardens, sponsored by its foreign born citizens. The Lithuanian Cultural Garden is laid out in the form of a huge lyre, which symbolizes the Lithuanians' love for music. The stone work depicts three stages of Lithuanian history. The bust in the center is that of Dr. Jonas Basanavicius, Lithuanian liberator."The Lithuanian Cultural Garden also features busts of Maironis (poet/writer) and Vincas Kudirka (author of Lithuania's national anthem), the Pillars of Gediminas (Gedimino Stulpas), and a fountain dedicated to Lithuania's Grand Duchess Birute.Dedicated in October 1936, the Lithuanian Cultural Garden extends from East Boulevard down three levels to Martin Luther King Boulevard. According to Clara Lederer, in Their Paths are Peace , the "original design was drawn up in Lithuania by Professor Dubinecras, and was modified to fit the boulevard topography by the City Plan Commission of Cleveland." The Lithuanian Cultural Garden’s choices of sculpture reflects how much questions of national identity played into the construction of many of the gardens. ~Dr.M.Tabeau
http://www.culturalgardens.org/federation.aspx
After you visit the LT Gardens, you can stop at the Lithuanian Club at the Lithuanian Community Center for a Svyturys…
http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150236615690337.344774.356431370336&type=3
Antanas Smetona golfing in Michigan at the Tabor Farm after he came to the U.S. in 1941, escaping from the Soviet invasion of Lithuania in June 1940 |
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Antanas Smetona (August 10, 1874 – January 9, 1944) was the most important Lithuanian political figure between World War I and World War II. He served as the first President of Lithuania from April 4, 1919 to June 19, 1920. He again served as the last President of the country from December 19, 1926 to June 15, 1940, before its occupation by the Soviet Union. He was also one of the famous ideologists of nationalism in Lithuania.
Lithuania was occupied by Soviet troops in 1940. After the USSR presented an ultimatum to Lithuania in June of that year, Smetona proposed armed resistance against the Soviets. The majority of the government and the commanders of the army did not concur with this proposal, and Smetona turned over the duties of President to Prime Minister Antanas Merkys, and on June 15 he and his family fled to Germany, and then on to Switzerland without surrendering his powers.
In 1941, Smetona emigrated to the United States, and lived in Pittsburgh and Chicago before settling in Cleveland, Ohio in May 1942 with his son Julius' family. While in exile, he began work on a history of Lithuania and on his memoirs. Smetona died in a fire at his son's house in Cleveland, on January 9, 1944, and was buried there. His wife Sofija died in Cleveland, on December 28, 1968, and he also had a daughter, Birutė.
In 1975, his remains were moved from Cleveland's Knollwood Cemetery mausoleum to All Souls Cemetery in Chardon, Ohio.
Early life
Born in the village of Užulėnis, Taujėnai rural district of Ukmergė district municipality, Antanas Smetona was sent to the primary school in Taujėnai. Graduating from the Palanga Pre-Gymnasium in 1893, he passed his entrance examinations into the Samogitian Diocesan Seminary in Kaunas, with thoughts of becoming a Catholic priest, but various circumstances soon thereafter changed these plans, and he enrolled at Jelgava Gymnasium (high school) in Latvia. Here, together with Jonas Jablonskis, Vincas Kudirka and others, he belonged to a secret Lithuanian students' organization. This organization was nationalistic, and anti-Czarist in nature. In the autumn of 1896, he organized the resistance of students against obligatory attendance of the Russian Orthodox Church, and was expelled from the Gymnasium, but was later allowed to study at the Gymnasium No.9, in Saint Petersburg.
After graduating from this Gymnasium in 1897, Smetona entered the Faculty of Law of the University of Saint Petersburg. He joined the activities of the secret Lithuanian Student Organization at the University, and was made its chairman. He became involved with the publishing and dissemination of Lithuanian books. On two occasions he faced the threat of being expelled from the University, and experienced being arrested and a short imprisonment. After his graduation from the University in 1902, he worked at the Agricultural Bank of Vilnius. Two years later he married Sofija Chodakauskaitė.
Early activities
From his very first days in Vilnius, Smetona became involved in the activities of various Lithuanian nationalist groups, and joined the Lithuanian Democratic Party, which he represented in the Great Seimas of Vilnius. He was later elected into its Presidium. In 1904 and 1907, he was on the staff of the Lithuanian newspapers, Vilniaus Žinios (The Vilnius News), and in 1905-1906, edited the weekly Lietuvos Ūkininkas (The Lithuanian Farmer). In 1907, Smetona and the Rev. Juozas Tumas-Vaižgantas established a venture to print the newspaper Viltis (The Hope), and started publishing and circulating it. In Viltis, Smetona advocated national unity; he was also one of the incorporators of the Aušra (Dawn) company for the publishing of Lithuanian books, a member of the Lithuanian Mutual Aid Society of Vilnius, the Lithuanian Learned Society, the Vilniaus aušra (The Dawn of Vilnius), and Rytas (The Morning) education societies, the Rūta Art Society and many other societies, taught the Lithuanian language at Vilnius schools. In 1914, he started publishing Vairas (The Rudder), a new bi-weekly magazine. Also he worked with the writer Liudvikas Jakavicius.
Politics
During the First World War, he was the 1st Vice-Chairman, and later Chairman, of the Central Committee of the Lithuanian Relief Society for helping victims of the war. In the summer of 1916, Antanas Smetona, together with other Lithuanians from Vilnius, presented a memorandum to the German Chief Commander of the Eastern Front, in which he demanded the right of the Lithuanian nation to have an independent State. On September 6, 1917 he started printing the newspaper Lietuvos Aidas (Lithuania's Echo), worked as its publisher and its editor-in-chief. In the first issue of the newspaper, Smetona wrote that the most important goal of the Lithuanian nation was the re-establishment of an independent Lithuanian state.
Between September 18 and 22, 1917, he participated in the Lithuanian Conference in Vilnius, and was elected Chairman (1917–1919), of the Council of Lithuania (later Council of the State). On February 16, 1918, Antanas Smetona signed the Act of Independence of Lithuania.
Smetona
(first right from centre) in the Council of Lithuania, February 16, 1918, the
day Lithuanian declared independence after more than hundred years of Tsarist
occupation.
Between December 1918 and March 1919, he lived primarily in Germany and the Scandinavian countries, soliciting loans for the cause of Lithuanian independence. On April 4, 1919, the State Council of Lithuania elected Smetona the first President of the Republic of Lithuania. On April 19, 1920, the Constituent Assembly elected Aleksandras Stulginskis President. Not re-elected to the Seimas, from 1921 throughout 1924 he edited several periodicals, as Lietuvos balsas ("Voice of the Lithuania"), Lietuviškas balsas ("Lithuanian Voice") and Vairas ("The Steering Wheel").
After the Klaipėda Revolt of January 1923, in the Memelland, which had been separated from Germany, he was made commissioner there on February 20, but due to disagreements with Prime Minister Ernestas Galvanauskas, he resigned from his post.
In November 1923, authorities imprisoned Smetona for several days for publishing an article by Augustinas Voldemaras, in Vairas. Between 1923 and 1927, he was an assistant Professor at the University of Lithuania - at first at the Chair of Art Theory and History and later at the department of Philosophy. He lectured on ethics, antique philosophy, and gave lectures on Lithuanian linguistics. In 1932, he was awarded an honorary Ph.D. at the Vytautas Magnus University.
Smetona participated in the activity of the Lithuanian Riflemen's Union that had staged the Klaipėda Revolt, which gave him greater name-recognition. More than once, he was elected to its central board. Between 1924 and 1940, he was the vice-Chairman of the Board of the International Bank, and one of the members of a number of societies and companies.
Authoritarian president
Antanas Smetona was one of the leaders of the coup d'état of 1926, which deposed President Kazys Grinius, and Smetona once again became President on December 19 of that year (two others briefly held the office during the coup, which began on December 17, before Smetona was formally restored to the Presidency.
See also our VilNews article https://vilnews.com/?p=3545, “The man who declined the Presidency.”
After the coup, Smetona designated Augustinas Voldemaras, as Prime Minister. One year later he suppressed the parliament, and on May 15, 1928, with the approval of the government, he promulgated a new Constitution of the Lithuanian State with more extensive presidential powers. In 1929, he removed Voldemaras and became authoritarian head of state. He was re-elected President in 1931 and 1938, and remained in office until June 15, 1940, when Lithuania was occupied by the Soviet Union.
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Why President Smetona's wife smoked Russian cigarettes and refused to talk to Polish ambassador in their native tongue
By: Alfonsas Eidintas / 15min.lt
President Antanas Smetona
and his family: wife Sofija Smetonienė, son Julius, daughter
Marytė
Smetonaitė-Valušienė, and son-in-law Aloyzas Valušis
The following three articles are from VilNews’
collaborative e-publication http://www.15min.lt/en
Alfonsas Eidintas, historian and Lithuania's former ambassador to the USA, Canada, Mexico, Israel, and Norway, has recently published a second book on Lithuania's inter-war president Antanas Smetona. The book is called "Antanas Smetona and His Environment" and the author has kindly agreed to let 15min.lt share some of its chapters. The following is an extract from a chapter on Smetona's wife, Lithuania's first First Lady, Sofija Smetonienė.
Unlike her reserved husband Antanas Smetona, Sofija was talkative and full of energy, partial to good company, a woman of action and resolution. Chodkauskai, a noble family of Antanas Chodkauskas, Sofia's father, who married his cousin Marijona Chodkauskaitė, lived in Gavenonys estate (Šiauliai region) and used Polish among themselves, speaking Lithuanian to peasants only, yet Sofija had sympathized with the Lithuanian national movement from her early days.
Her father would invite Lithuanian students, recommended by the linguist Jonas Jablonskis, to teach his children. During the summer of 1895, a young student from the University of Saint Petersburg, Antanas Smetona, stayed in Chodkauskas' house, teaching his elder son Romanas Lithuanian. Besides Sofija, the family included her sister Jadvyga, their elder brother Romanas and younger Tadas.
Sofija had a talent for learning languages – she picked up German from her German governess that she later improved even more while living in a German boarding school in Mitau, where she graduated from a gymnasium. Sofia's grandmother on her mother's side was a Curonian German, so even her mother spoke better German than Polish.
Sofija, born on 13 January 1885, was 11 years Smetona's junior – which at the time was considered a rather sharp age difference between spouses – and met him, still a student, in Gavenonys.
Young, pretty, lively and talkative 19-year-old, freshly graduated from Mitau Gymnasium, married 30-year-old bank employee Smetona in 1904 and the two moved to Vilnius. It wasn't long before Sofija joined the local Lithuanian society, exhibiting her fairly good voice in choirs and operettas, playing in amateur theater productions, actively participating in charity work. Speaking fluent German, she assisted as interpreter and mediator during the German occupation in World War One.
The Smetona family soon became the centre of Lithuanian cultural life in Vilnius, their home was frequented by the likes of Antanas' university mate J.Tūbelis, reverend V.Mironas, author Kazys Puida with his wife Ona Pleirytė-Puidienė, L.Gira, Mikas and Kipras Petraukas, painter A.Žmuidzinavičius, sometimes even by M.K.Čiurlionis and Petras Klimas. Sofija was a good expert on all the policies of her husband and participated in their making without the slightest sign of ennui (unlike many politicians' spouses who would and still do invest most of their time into updating their wardrobes).
Sofija Smetonienė was reputed as a steadily pleasant hostess who would always invite new acquaintance for a visit at her home. Priest and author M.Vaitkus wrote after a visit at Smetona's in Kaunas: “I found Mrs Sofija at home. Tall, slim. Elongated and slightly dark face. Eyes vaguely Mogul. Slight swelling and shading under the eyes. In general, features quite distinctive and uncommon. One can see a good race. The lady often holds a lit cigarette in between her right-hand fingers which makes them sallow. The cigarette owner, moreover, often touches it with her lips, savors it more fully, leaving marks on lip corners. She received me very simply, almost amiably. We started conversing about routine facts of life, as if we were old acquaintances. By the way, is Mr Smetona home? Yes, she said. And then the lady showed me where to go.”
Vacationing in Palanga in 1925, Antanas Vireliūnas, a known linguist who was very ill at the time, felt his health deteriorating (liver inflammation), his lips and tongue turning black and face yellow. Prof. Iz.Tamošaitis visited the patient, accompanied by S.Smetonienė. She told Tamošaitis, who seemed out of his depth: Vireliūnas would not last long. Indeed, he passed away on 23 July.
Friends talked his family out of transporting the body to cemetery in Kaunas – it was summertime, long distance. They agreed to bury the departed in Palanga. Coffin had to be bought in Klaipėda and brought to Palanga. But how to transport it, by what means, where to get it? While men were discussing it, S.Smetonienė procured a car. All that remained for A.Smetona, reverend Šniukšta, Iz.Tamošaitis, and Parlamentarian Kvieska to do was to say homage speeches in the funeral, silently thanking S.Smetonienė for solving all the practical problems.
Experienced diplomats from the US and Germany were often delighted by her liveliness, ability to quickly find mutual understanding, find their favor, maintain conversations with foreigners. Harry Carlson, American consul in Kaunas 1924-1926, characterized Sofija in one of his wires thus: “Mrs Smetonienė is a highly educated woman of Polish origin, there are indications that her family belongs to Polish nobility. She is exceptionally charming and can be said to be one of the three most important Lithuanian women at the moment. She takes great interest in her husband's politics, although she shows no open interest in any sort of social work, she has not been observed paying any particular attention to education or charity. She is certainly a delightful conversationalist, although her talks always contain certain sharpness and irony when she discusses people and events. Mrs Smetonienė is an ardent gambler and it is well known that she plays rather large sums.”
And here is what Soviet diplomat Sobolevsky though of S.Smetonienė: “Smetonienė is sensible, always in the loop, shows lively interest in everything, well-informed.”
Sofija Smetonienė was ready to sacrifice any prior engagement for the sake of her dearest friends. She instantly accepted an invitation to a dinner party held by US diplomats in the honor of Frederick Coleman, head of the American mission in the Baltic states, but shortly afterwards remembered that, unfortunately, she and the President had already been invited to the USSR embassy (as Smetonienė herself put it, she was invited by the “Bolscheviken”).
However, came 12 October and Smetonienė arrived to the American dinner party, declaring that she had withdrawn her promises to the soviets because she prefered present company, even though she’d got into trouble with the Foreign Ministry for not accompanying the President to the Soviets' event. She recounted how she’d spent half an hour arguing with Prime Minister Voldemaras. She did not leave the party before 1 AM, when the President's adjutant came to fetch her, as usual.
Smetonienė was exceptionally fond of the company of F.Coleman – who would occasionally come to Kaunas on business – because he'd gladly play cards with her.
On 27 October, American Consul Heingartner became witness of the following scene at the President's palace: the guests who arrived for 5 o'clock tea were greeted by the President, descending down the stairs in seemingly good humor. After Smetonienė arrived, everyone drank coffee and started to play a new game (a game of dice called golf), getting instructions on its finer points from one of the guests. Smetonienė had never seen the game, yet she cracked it instantly – faster than any of the gentlemen in the room – and played it with great zest, inviting everyone for another round the following day. “She is a born gambler,” Consul Heingartner noted in his diary.
Upon Sofija's becoming the First Lady again (1926), diplomats noted, somewhat surprised, that the new status made not the slightest change in her attitudes – she remained just as cheerful, honest, frank and slightly mocking of those she did not like. Smetonienė mostly smoked Russian cigarettes. She complained that since her husband became President, he had been smoking too much. He had much on his mind and was smoking to calm his nerves.
On 9 September 1927, an armed uprising erupted in Tauragė and other towns, mostly instigated by the social democrats, but by the evening it got stamped out, culprits arrested. Quite unpleasant for the Smetona family – and on the eve of their daughter Marytė's wedding...
Even though developments of the uprising aupset the family a great deal, they hardly could cancel all the wedding arrangements.
At 7 PM, 10 September 1927, a smart-dressed crowd of Kaunas society and foreign diplomats congregated in the town's Arch-Cathedral. Marytė Smetonaitė was marrying President's adjutant, captain of the hussars Aloyzas Valušis. The Cathedral was full of people from all sections of society, most of them standing as all seats were taken. Sofija Smetonienė led captain Valušis to the altar, the President with Marytė following behind.
Photographers' flashes and buzzing of movie cameras constantly disturbed the ceremony. Archbishop declared the couple husband and wife and read a letter from the Pope. The newlyweds left through the side door while all the diplomats were shaking hands with the President and his wife. Only one foreign diplomat got invited to the wedding ball – the US vice-consul Ch.Gerrity, a personal friend of the Smetona family. Gerrity later told his consul that 75 people attended the wedding, raising champagne glasses on the arrival of the newlyweds to the Pressident's palace.
Each of the newlyweds received a glass of champagne and the young captain threw the emptied glass to the floor – such was the custom here. High clergy and military officers in full-dress uniforms surrounded the tables. After dinner, the bride danced with every one of the guests. Members of Sofija Smetonienė's bridge group sent the young couple an antique silver plate as a present.
***
Both sisters – Sofija and Jadvyga Chodkauskaitė – were true patriots and would always maintain Lithuanian pride. Sofija Smetonienė was wife of President Antanas Smetona and Jadvyga – spouse to Prime Minister Juozas Tūbelis. Both were famous for their passionate patriotism. Poland's envoy in Kaunas Franciszek Charvat has reported that in his meetings with the Smetonas, the President would talk to him in fluent Polish, while his wife Sofija would not use her native tongue and insist on talking to the Pole in French, a language that she spoke rather poorly.
The Smetonas usually spent their vacations in Palanga – upon arrival, the President's family would be greeted by burgomaster Jonas Šliūpas and other distinctive town citizens, after which the President would go to his summerhouse. The Smetonas spent their holidays swimming, sunbathing, and resting. After 1934 – the year of Smetona's 60th anniversary – the family found a new holiday spot, Užugiris Court near the President's home village.
The Smetona family spent their holidays in Užugiris differently than in Palanga – Smetonienė would take care of the house, the President's sister Julija oversee the fields. Cooking was Sofija's responsibility.
One evening, A.Smetona agreed to visit duke Konstantinas Radvila who was one year Smetona's senior and a widower with three grown-up children.
In his youth, the duke had been renown for his great physical strength, his passion for hunting and a collection of over 70 rifles. His residence, Taujėnai manor, was a splendid building, but upon closer look appeared to be rather neglected. After the land reform (1922), the duke was left with merely 80 ha of his formerly gigantic estate, not quite enough to maintain his wide lifestyle.
As the President's car stopped outside the manor, two uniformed footmen came instantly and the duke, attired in beautiful antique clothes, emerged from an antechamber to greet the guest.
This was a symbolic meeting – after all, Smetona's forefathers once slavishly toiled in the fields of the duke's ancestry. His younger sister Taida Radvilaitė escorted them to a tastefully arranged table. As she spoke no Lithuanian, the party communicated mostly in Polish, even though the duke was fluent in Lithuanian, with a slight regional accent.
Duke Konstantinas was a well-educated man, graduate of Riga Polytechnics with a degree in forestry from a German university. After the meal, Radvila conducted Smetona around the manor, showing rooms furnished with Louis XIV furniture, paintings, vases and sculptures, presents and prizes for excellent shooting. The guests were also shown into a glasshouse filled with tropical plants.
When footmen closed the car door and saluted the out-bound President, the duke remained in his manor and prospectless life, while Smetona returned to his wife in Užugiris Court – this is how the family preferred to call their new property, avoiding the more traditional “Užugiris Manor.”
Next week, what were Smetona's attitudes towards Polish national minority and the Vilnius question and why his adversaries would call him "King of Jews."
Lithuanian Poles and Antanas Smetona, “King of Jews“ (I)
By: Alfonsas Eidintas / 15min.lt
President
Smetona is sworn in 1938.
Alfonsas Eidintas, historian and Lithuania's former ambassador to the USA, Canada, Mexico, Israel, and Norway, has recently published a second book on Lithuania's inter-war president Antanas Smetona. The book is called "Antanas Smetona and His Environment" and the author has kindly agreed to let 15min.lt share some of its chapters. The following is an extract from a chapter on Smetona's views on national minorities in inter-war Lithuania.
As people started to build an independent Lithuania, they likewise set out to lithuanianize her. The process of lithuanianization did not escape its excesses – attacks against foreign citizens. It was not only the Holly See delegate A.Zecchini who voiced great indignation in his reports to Vatican, but also President Antanas Smetona, who never approved of attacks against Jews and Poles.
***
In the beginning of 1923, non-Lithuanian signs and plates in Kaunas and across the entire country would get an occasional tarring. People would find notes of proclamation glued to walls of their houses, signed by “patriots” and fascist groups that came to be called “smearers” (murzintojai).
While the smearers' actions were being hotly debated in the press, Augustinas Voldemaras (Prime Minister at the time) denounced the tarring of signs, stressing that “every Lithuanian passing through these tarred signs must lower his eyes in shame” and that it gave the country great dishonor abroad. Gradually, nationalistic attacks against Jews (they were being accused of distrusting the recently-introduced national currency, litas, and of demanding privileges) and the smearers' adventures lost momentum.
In regimes run by one man, the latter's personal attitude to racial and national minorities becomes a significant factor in state politics.
In regimes run by one man, the latter's personal attitude to racial and national minorities becomes a significant factor in state politics; therefore, Smetona's policies in Lithuania say much about him as a person. Authoritarian regimes (and such was Lithuania under Smetona 1926-1940) usually oppress their national minorities, turning a blind eye on their needs. The more radical among Smetona's opponents have repeatedly called him “King of Jews,” thus voicing their discontent with the President's tolerant position regarding Jews, Lithuania's most important and populous national minority at the time. But what about local Poles? What policies did Smetona's regime adopt regarding national minorities?
On March 24, 1936, Smetona gave probably the most comprehensive account of his views on Vilnius question (Lithuania's old capital was at the time under Polish rule, tensing relations between the two neighboring countries) and Lithuanian-Polish relations in a lecture called “The Lithuanian Nation and Its Purpose.” The importance of Vilnius he described thus: “Lithuania without Vilnius is missing one wing in her flight upwards, to the future. It is a moderate position: In want of a third of her land, she cannot have a full plan of her tasks, she does not have the importance in the eyes of her neighbors that she could have. Getting it back would add weight on international plane and internal life would be more spacious, management work would be done more purposefully.”
Poles, according to Smetona, must, too, grant Lithuanians their right to self-determination, must renounce their imperial nationalism, since the Lithuanian-Pole type that once had historical existence, was no longer possible. In the olden days, Poles would call conscious Lithuanians “litvomans,” unfaithfull to the common Polish-Lithuanian cause, but today, when Lithuania was free, they quit doing so, yet still sought to maintain the obsolete origine lituanus, natione polonus type and grant it the right to determine Lithuania's lot.
The late Marshall Pilsudski loved throwing the term around whenever it suited him, like in Paris in 1927, yet this dual national type became shaky with the rise of the Lithuanian nation. Even families would break up because of it: “Professor Ivanauskas of our university, nobleman, Lithuanian from Lyda in origin, had one brother who thought himself Belorussian and another – Polish. A whole lot of our noblemen – Biržiškai, Mongirdai, Landbergiai, Pečkauskaitė, Pšibiliauskienė, Putvinskiai and many more – come from families whose fathers or grandfathers regarded themselves as Lithuanian Poles.
Finally, late Narutavičius from Telšiai, a nobleman of Polish nurturing, was a member of the Council of Lithuania and signed the declaration of independent Lithuania. And his real brother, Narutavičius, champion of Pilsudski, was elected Poland's President. Polonized Lithuanians, who support Poland, would like to see the common folk that are still nationally unconscious to follow their suit; those recalling their Lithuanian origin stand in support of the resurgent Lithuania.”
That is why Poland allegedly cries about how Lithuanians persecute Poles and, in return, persecute Lithuanians of Vilnius. “Do we not have Polish gymnasiums and other Polish schools, founded on our common laws? We do, so the Poles are not being wronged, but they seek to have more rights than is their due, in order to influence the resurgent Lithuanian people. After all, these schools are meant for the polonized Lithuanians, not some newcomers from Poland. We seek national revival of our people, while Poles think it's their right to use them as ethnographic material. We would be happy if Poles allowed Lithuanians of Vilnius region to remain Lithuanians. This is where our views clash. Today, language is the most important mark ofr a nation, but not the only one.”
Smetona specified his views even further in LTS assembly of November 1939, probably in an attempt to curb his own radical supporters from the younger generation: “To persecute foreigners is not only dishonorable, it is unwise. The flood of nationalistic currents will have to go on the ebb. Life will make nations break free of a narrow shell of nationalism, look for contacts in culture instead of differences and return to a universal human basis of morality.”
In November 1939, Lithuania got Vilnius back, but – contrary to what was being said – Smetona was not excited about it for several reasons. Garrisons of the Red Army were stationed there and, besides, by its population Vilnius was – even though quite Jewish – predominantly Polish, with Polish language dominating the city. Old myths – that the denationalized Lithuanians of Vilnius region were waiting for mother Lithuania to come, whereby they'd burst into speaking publicly in their native tongue – appeared to be mere fables, while Poles with resolutely Polish identity met the coming of Lithuanians – the new invaders, as they saw it – to Vilnius with hostility.
Vilnius was a prism to reflect on spiritual capacities of the Lithuanian nation – it was being claimed that the existence of the Lithuanian state depended on national resistivity, yet the question arose – how far should the nationalism go. V.Alantas (Jakševičius) raised a point that nationality should not be considered as something extreme, one should not feared to become nationalist in the true sense of the word. He was critical of Lithuanians' hospitality and welcoming nature, as it was harmful to Lithuania's interests.
The authorities organized language courses, forcing people to drill Lithuanian and all its rules into their heads, without quite understanding them.
The government undertook vigorous lithuanianization of the city, replaced public signs, published all information in Lithuanian, speaking and writing in Lithuanian became institutional requirement – all of a sudden, the city turned foreign to majority of its townspeople.
The authorities organized language courses, forcing people to drill Lithuanian and all its rules into their heads, without quite understanding them. The present author, newcomer from Žemaitija (Western Lithuania), used to rent a room in Žvėrynas, Vytautas street, with a landlord of Belorussian descent, R.I.P Valentinas Syvijus, who, having experienced the intensity of the pre-war language courses, would wake up from sleep or after ten pints of beer (his absolute limit) and, as late as 1974, would reel off in Lithuanian with a heavy Slavonic accent: “Daiktavardiiis yra kalbos daliis, kurį galima pamacyci yr apačioci.” (Noun is part of speech that you can see and touch.”) He still spoke the language poorly, even though his entire family – who came from Molėtai, on the Lithuanian side of the demarcation line – used only Lithuanian.
Historian Š.Liekis came up with an example to show how much the Lithuanian military, who entered Vilnius, were taken aback by the real, not nominal, linguistic situation in the city.
Lieutenant Mikalauskas of the Lithuanian army and his subordinates spent two weeks going from one village to another with an assignment to help “real sons and daughters of Lithuania,” that is, Lithuanians of Vilnius region. Lieutenant and his soldiers were in for a great shock. They were more than surprised when they did not come across a single Lithuanian-speaker in the villages they marched through – they even got a feeling of slight discomfort, as if they were in a foreign country. Some hope lit their faces only around Šalčininkėliai, Mielagėnai, Kirdeikiai and Laužonys, where they found entire Lithuanian-speaking villages.
There were some radical suggestions, too. The House of Commerce stated, in its 1939 “Economic Bulletin” (for official use only, not for publishing), that Lithuania would now have several hundred thousand pro-Polish citizens and moving several ministries to Vilnius would amount to nothing more than a “war against titans,” that one faced a great mass of Poles that could not be just dissolved. Suggestions were raised to tear this nest apart – physically and economically, with “siedlungspolitik” west to east, etc. Polish burghers were to be moved westwards, leaving all the treasures of Vilnius to Lithuanians; the more Lithuanian the region, the more integral the capital.
Skaitykite
daugiau: http://www.15min.lt/en/article/culture-society/lithuanian-poles-and-antanas-smetona-king-of-jews-i-528-200703#ixzz1sf3Q0Y68
Antanas Smetona, “King of Jews“ (II)
By: Alfonsas Eidintas / 15min.lt
Renatos
Mikalajūnaitės/Istorinė Prezidentūra nuotr. /
Mylimiausiu prezidentu išrinktas Antanas Smetona
Alfonsas Eidintas, historian and Lithuania's former ambassador to the USA, Canada, Mexico, Israel, and Norway, has recently published a second book on Lithuania's inter-war president Antanas Smetona. The book is called "Antanas Smetona and His Environment" and the author has kindly agreed to let 15min.lt share some of its chapters. The following is an extract from a chapter on Smetona's views on the Jewish national minority in inter-war Lithuania.
As people started to build independent Lithuania, they likewise set out to lithuanianize her. The process of lithuanianization did not avoid its excesses – attacks against foreign citizens. It was not only the Holly See delegate A.Zecchini who voiced great indignation in his reports to Vatican, but also President Antanas Smetona who never approved of attacks against Jews and Poles.
Read beginning of the chapter Lithuanian Poles and Antanas Smetona, "King of Jews" (I)
The same [House of Commerce 1939] bulletin urged to define a policy for Jews in Vilnius region, saying that it was unacceptable to leave the most profitable industry – commerce – in Jewish hands, that they needed to be resettled [from the newly-regained Vilnius] and not to other towns, but to rural settlements, to work in agriculture; Lithuanians, it said, had to stop valuing only land: “If we want to live, let's divide up the towns and shove Jews into the country where they in specia are bound for extinction, because they will not manage to do hard and decent work. The gain will be two-fold: Jews will be pushed into passive and prospectless rural existence and put on the verge of extinction.”
This was a very open and Nazi-like incitement – Smetona's government policies never included such drastic measures.
Having regained our state, we want and we must be just in dealing with our minorities. Since we do not demand them to melt, to drown within our nation, we grant them the right to a native tongue, allow them to associate with their own kind in matters of culture.
Smetona had cooperated with Jewish colleagues under the Tzar, during election to the Russian Duma; Jews participated in the Council of Lithuania. So when the 1922 Constitution was being discussed, Smetona supported provisions granting cultural autonomy for national minorities, yet opposed privileges, creating “states within a state.” He protected the status of Lithuanian as a state language, often speaking out against derogations and persecution of minorities, urging to respect their culture: “Having regained our state, we want and we must be just in dealing with our minorities. Since we do not demand them to melt, to drown within our nation, we grant them the right to a native tongue, allow them to associate with their own kind in matters of culture. In exchange, they must be our land’s – therefore, territorial – patriots, love Lithuania and respect the Lithuanian people. They must be loyal to Lithuania, stick to the laws not out of coercion, but out of conscience. Therefore, our national minorities are not aliens, but fellow citizens, not foreign-ethnic, but different-ethnic.”
Smetona, himself a member of a small nation, was sensitive to problems of the small ones (back in1913, he wrote in a publication called “Hope” that nationalism had two sides to it: “Nationalism of the stronger nation turns into chauvinism, that of the weaker – patriotism.”).
“A small nation, of course, is not equal to a big one, one race is not equal to another, but does it follow from this inequality that a nation must slave for another or disappear altogether? The Egyptians are not Aryans, but no one can deny the greatness of their culture. Japanese are a yellow race, but their might today is indisputable, their culture is deep and special. Jews are Semites, a tiny nation that used to live around Palestine, and what giant impact have they made on mankind. They gave us the Holly Scriptures that touched all nations of the world. Which corner of this earth lacks a Bible? None. A tiny nation of Norwegians – and they have given so many brilliant people, authors, and musicians. (...) In proportion, small nations can easily match big ones creatively, in the arts, sciences, technology. Diversity and not unification is the mover of cultural progress,” Smetona said in a congress in 1935.
Neither Smetona, nor his party, Lithuanian Nationalist Union (LTS), promoted racism or antisemitism, even though some groups would hold occasional nationalistic actions or smear Jewish shop windows and doors. Among the most aggressive attackers against Jewish traders were their Lithuanian competitors, businessmen, and their publication “Verslas” (“Business”). Meanwhile, Smetona and LTS leadership always maintained close ties with Jewish financiers and trading groups.
In Jewish press and literature, Smetona was depicted as an incredibly tolerant Lithuanian politician – an image that prompted bitter Lithuanian radicals to dub him the “King of Jews.”
If there is any basis for the claim that the Lithuanian tradition does not recognize antisemitism, then it should not surprise us that Mr Smetona, who has both his feet in the historic soil of his nation, is untouched by either antisemitism or chauvinism.
In 1932, Izidorius Kisinas authored a book for Jewish pupils called “Antanas Smetona, President of the Republic of Lithuania,” published in Hebrew in Vilkaviškis. According to Kisinas, “if there is any basis for the claim that the Lithuanian tradition does not recognize antisemitism, antisemitism as a dominant social current, then it should not surprise us that Mr Smetona, who has both his feet in the historic soil of his nation, is untouched by either antisemitism or chauvinism (if, regretfully, such phenomena have been observed lately, then the influence of Mr Smetona and the better part of the Lithuanian society is our guarantee that trends within certain groups will not stray us away from the historic path (...) and good Lithuanian-Jewish relations).”
However, Smetona's attitudes were completely different regarding the Jewish left and those Jews who participated in Lithuania's revolutionary movement, active members of the Communist Party and communist underground. Perhaps it was the Jews – who preferred speaking other languages (not Lithuanian) – that Smetona intended this remark, uttered in the LTS convention on 5 January 1935: “I could reprove one minority group for having within their ranks those who have not shown due respect for the national Lithuanian language. Not having mastered it properly, they like using one of our neighbours’ languages in public. This habit turns majority of the population against it.”
Smetona expressed an uncomplicated understanding of the relation between the Lithuanian nation and the others: “Lithuanians are builders of their state, while national minorities are their aides, they must love Lithuania and respect the Lithuanian nation, be loyal to Lithuania.” His magnanimity, however, was not extended to all Jews. As B.Ivanov notes, the nationalist press mostly reflected the strategy of integration for national minorities, i.e., questions of their loyalty, since nationalists paid much attention to Jews and tried nurturing a highly differentiated image for them, distinguishing among various groups on the basis of national and public loyalty.
Nationalists would put loyal Jews into two main categories: Zionists and religious Orthodox Jews that presented no serious challenge in terms of public loyalty. It was based on certain Jewish sense of honour, interpreted as national self-consciousness, reliability, fairness, usefulness to Lithuanian nationalism and nationalists. The kind of Jew who would not shun spilling blood in Palestine, whom the Lithuanian environment nurtured into a modern man in terms of national feeling. Lithuanians themselves, it was claimed, could learn national consciousness from him.
The nationalists' attitudes towards Jewish politics were rather inconsistent – they approved of the Jewish role and support in dealing with Klaipėda and Vilnius questions. Meanwhile their wish to participate in municipal and later parliamentary elections was deemed an “unjustified” ambition to further expand their influence.
Skaitykite
daugiau: http://www.15min.lt/en/article/culture-society/antanas-smetona-king-of-jews-ii-528-204355#ixzz1sf4CpkGo
Ohio
crypt holds remains of first Lithuanian President,
yet
he has been forgotten here in a Mausoleum tucked
away
in a Catholic Cemetery east of Cleveland, USA.
By Frank Passic
There are no flowers at his crypt, although the Mausoleum is filled with them on the vaults of others nearby. He was the President, yet you would not know that by reading the simple inscription found upon his nameplate. His image was on a coin, a banknote, various stamps and medals. Yet he has been forgotten here in a Mausoleum tucked away in a Catholic Cemetery east of Cleveland, Ohio, USA.
His body has already been moved once since his death. But his remains haven’t been taken back to Lithuania since Lithuanian independence was restored, unlike the remains of his counterpart, President Kazys Grinius’ were. So his remains lay here in Ohio, far away from the country he loved and served.
He was Antanas Smetona (1874-1944), the first and fourth President of the Republic of Lithuania. A writer and journalist by profession, Smetona was active in the Lithuanian National Movement. He was a member of the Lithuanian National Council and one of the signers of the Lithuanian Declaration of Restoration of Independence in 1918. He was a member of the Nationalist Party, and his regime was in power until the 1940 Soviet invasion. Smetona was able to successfully flee Lithuania when the USSR invaded the country on June 15, 1940, being the only President to do so from among the three Baltic Republics.
Smetona eventually was allowed to settle in the United States as a private citizen, and delivered speeches on national radio and to communities to promote Lithuanian independence. His untimely death from smoke inhalation occurred as a result of an overheated furnace at his Cleveland home on January 9, 1944. Dignitaries filled St. John’s Cathedral in Cleveland for the funeral on January 13. Eight Cleveland mounted police, led by an office, formed an honorary guard which escorted the corpse to the church and stood sentinel with the Lithuanian flag lowered during the services. Bishop Edward F. Hoban led the solemn pontifical requiem mass, with Chicago’s Rev. A. M. Linkus preaching the funeral. Smetona’s remains were then interred in the Knollwood Mausoleum until 1975.
President Antanas Smetona is now interred in the Crucifixion Mausoleum in All Souls Cemetery, located at 10366 (office at 103400) Chardon Road, Chardon Township in Geauga County, Ohio, zip code 44024. The Mausoleum is located in Section 23, and Smetona’s crypt is No. 103. His wife Sofija (1885-1968) is interred next to him on the right. For the official record, the GPS location of this Mausoleum is North 41 degrees, 35 minutes, 600 seconds by West 081 degrees, 16 minutes, 208 seconds.
In 2006 Lithuanian Numismatic Association member Lou Merkys paid a visit to Smetona’s resting place and took several photographs at the site which we are sharing here with our readers. The Mausoleum is filled with many flowers that have been placed on the faceplates of vaults of the deceased, but no flowers have been placed on those of the Smetonas.
Numismatists are quite familiar with Smetona’s image on the obverse of the 1938 10 litas coin (KM-84) commemorating the 20th anniversary of independence. The obverse features Smetona’s image, facing left. The legend translates, “State President A. Smetona, 10 Litas.” The reverse depicts the Columns of Gediminas emblem in the center, with the text translating, “Lithuania 1918-1938, Twenty Years of Independence.” The inscription on the edge translates, “In Unity Lies the Strength of the Nation.” This coin was struck in 75% silver, and measures 32 mm. in diameter.
This was the last coin issued by the Republic of Lithuania before the Soviet invasion. Designed by sculptor Juozas Zikaras, it is also one of the most popular and scarcest of the pre-War series of 14 coins. Only 170,000 were minted at the Mint of Lithuania in Kaunas. When the coins were released into circulation, they immediately had a collector’s value of 12 litas’.
1 The Lithuanian Mint also struck an example of the coin in gold in the summer of 1938 and presented it to the Lithuanian President.
2 This coin had a limited circulation period. When the Soviet’s invaded Lithuania two years later, anything with the image of President Smetona became a special target, and was outlawed. One graphic account by J. Yuknis, Jr. states:
3 When the Russian army occupied Lithuania on June 15, 1940, Moscow ordered destroyed every item with a portrait of President Smetona. On June 19, people were ordered to turn those coins in within one week’s time to the bank, or post office, or police. Rumors were circulating that if such a coin would be found in possession of anybody, there might be a death penalty. Frightened people stood in line at designated places to deliver those ‘capitalistic’ coins. Naïve Russians wanted to erase the name of that great President of Lithuania from pages of history. But they failed…Russians murdered all the philatelists in Lithuania, when their NKVD found some Smetona stamps in their stamp albums. That is a fact!”
Plans were also made in 1938 to strike a new 2 litas coin, bearing the image of Smetona. Dies were prepared and the Brussels Mint in Belgium, and patterns were struck there, both in silver and bronze. These measured 23 mm. in diameter. The master dies were then shipped to the Mint of Lithuania in Kaunas. The bust of Smetona on the 1938 2 litas patterns feature the President wearing a suit coat, while the image on the 10 litas coin did not. One version had the 20th anniversary year theme on the reverse with a Columns of Gedminas emblem, while another version used the traditional Vytis emblem. In any event, this coin was not approved in time for it to be struck, due to the rapidly deteriorating political situation in Europe.
Although there are no flowers at Smetona’s interment site in Ohio, the website www.findagrave.com allows people to leave “virtual flowers” and notes on his burial memorial there. I will be writing specifically about this website in a future article. For now however, on the main page on the left, click on “Famous Grave Search.” Type in “Antanas Smetona” in space provided and click “Search.” You’ll then see his name on the left. Click on his name and you’ll get his listing. You can leave your flowers and notes for Smetona there.
FOOTNOTES
1. Karys, Jonas K. Nepriklausomos Lietuvos Pinigai,
Aukselis, New York, 1953, pg. 205.
2. Ibid., pg. 206.
3. Yuknis, J. Jr. “Lithuanian-Americana: The Last
President of Lithuania,” American-Lithuanian Philatelic Specialist. June 1948,
pg. 20.
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