Simply Authentic...Your Soul Voice is Calling. Living the Dream: Joseph and Matilda

Living the Dream

Joseph and Matilda

Faith Made Manifest: Love Made Edible

God is good and faithful. He has supplied our every need. -Matilda and Joseph

A couple of weeks ago, George and I were treated to an Elton John concert in Eugene, Oregon, by friends Terry and Sandy. Knowing they live in Albany, I suggested we have dinner at Novak’s Hungarian Restaurant http://novakshungarian.com/ before the show. Thankfully, Sandy and Terry agreed, as they “love the place” as well. I hadn’t been to the restaurant to enjoy my favorite dish – the Szekely Toltott Kaposzta (cabbage rolls) – in three or four years.

While savoring my dinner, I was deliciously pulled back in time to when I sat down with “Papa” and “Mama” Novak to interview and write about them, around 12 years ago. It feels right to share their story again now.

Joseph and Matilda celebrated their first wedding anniversary in a refugee camp, a place they liken to a concentration camp – with barbed wire fences and billy clubs – at the border between Hungary and Yugoslavia. The Hungarian uprising in 1956 led to a price on electro-mechanical engineer Joseph’s head. A high price, his life.

You wouldn’t know this entering their celebrated Hungarian restaurant in Albany, Oregon. The restaurant has been featured in far-reaching magazines like National Geographic. I sought an interview with Joseph and Matilda because I so feel the heart of the owners in their establishment. Walking into Novak’s Hungarian Restaurant is like walking into a second home, surrounded by love, family and delicious, stick-to-your-ribs, good food. In large portions, reasonably priced, with great service.

Joseph and Matilda founded the restaurant in what Joseph calls the first economic disaster in the 1980’s. Matilda says, “This was born out of…desperation isn’t the right word.” She reflects for a moment. “Devotion.”

The Hungarian uprisings started just after Joseph and Matilda were married. Matilda is German, and speaks German and Hungarian. The Hungarians didn’t speak Russian, and the Russians didn’t speak Hungarian. Joseph says, “They spoke a common language, which was German. So, Mama was a long-distance operator, a translator.” They lived on top of a hill, and the revolutionaries, freedom fighters, were hiding out below. Joseph’s name was on a list meaning arrest, a life sentence, even execution.

Joseph took two weeks off from work and school to figure out a way to cross the border. Two people who wanted to cross had already been killed. There was a station between the borders, and anyone wanting to cross needed proof of necessary business on the other side.

Joseph is a man of deep faith. A Baptist church just at the edge of the border provided the “business permit” he needed. The pastor said he would leave the church door open and to come in at midnight. Joseph didn’t know at that point they would already be in Yugoslav territory, and it took more than one attempt before they safely crossed over.

Matilda’s mother’s family was already in the States; starting out in Wisconsin, moving to North Dakota and then California. The only one who stayed back was Matilda’s mother, the eldest of four children. Matilda’s brother went into the service in Hungary in 1942, became a prisoner of war in Germany to the Americans, and never returned. When her brother left, Matilda was seven years old.

Matilda’s aunt in California knew about the Hungarian uprising, yet had no idea what had happened to her niece and her husband. “We found out, once we met with my aunt, they knew about the uprising, but they hadn’t heard from us. They didn’t know what had happened to us. My aunt didn’t know what had happened to her sister. After we came out, we compared notes. And at the very same time, the exact time – it was 7:30 in the morning – when we crossed the border and were captured by the Yugoslavians, my aunt and some friends of hers stayed back in California, in Pomona, in a Four Square Church. They had a prayer meeting for us, not knowing where we were, or what was going on.”

The Novaks believe there are things a person just can’t explain, which must be attributed to a higher power. They slipped a letter written to Matilda’s aunt under the barbed wire fence, having no idea if she would ever receive it. The kind soul who grasped that letter mailed it, and Matilda’s aunt received it.

Mama and Papa Novak left the life they had known with only the clothing they wore. The few other things they had packed in cold, frosty January were lost along the road. A huge truck dumped stacks of clothing on the ground, and refugees scrambled and pawed through them to find useful items before finally being released from the camp. Joseph found a suit with the sleeves reaching far above his wrists and the pant legs not touching his ankles. He went through every inch of that suit before and after donning it.

The flight to the US was rough. It was touch and go over Ireland due to heavy fog – a small fighter plane was sent to guide them down. A baby was nearly born on the plane. Blankets and front seats were crafted into a private makeshift birthing bed. Even the crew, who had made this trip many times, said this was a first for them!

The landing, however, was smooth. “Just like on a cushion, like on air,” says Matilda. An ambulance and medical crew were ready when the plane landed. The healthy baby boy, nearly born on the plane, was named after the pilot.

The Novaks arrived in New York around midnight December 11, 1957. After no food on the plane, a brief stop in Nova Scotia and a stormy flight, a beautiful, clean bed in a New York City hotel awaited them. They slept through breakfast, and were very hungry. Joseph went through his suit pockets one more time, after multiple previous checks.

This time, he found a dollar bill. “Now who knows where that suit came from?” Matilda muses. “But an American dollar bill?”

Joseph ran down to the street and came back with an eight-pound bag of oranges. They sat down, peeling, eating, and soon had devoured the entire bag.

Matilda said, after seeing the peels on the floor, “Wow, I wonder what the maid is going to think.” Matilda and I both laughed through the tears in our eyes as she recounted this story.

December 12, 1957, the Novaks were on their way to California. Matilda was finally reunited with her only brother, the one she hadn’t seen since she was seven years old. “It was quite a reunion,” she says. “He was married, I was married…we lived with them for a while.”

Papa and Mama lived in southern California for 13 years, while Joseph worked with American Rockwell as part of the space program. They eventually became disillusioned with the asphalt, housing, traffic, and took a vacation up the west coast towards Canada. To this day, they don’t know what prompted them to stop in Albany, Oregon – yet they somehow knew they wanted to live there.

Matilda and Joseph’s family includes four children – two sons and twin daughters – and now several grandchildren. The restaurant began because the family was at a point where they didn’t know what else to do. Many people had suggested a restaurant, because of Matilda’s cooking skills. Around the dinner table on a Sunday, one of their daughters mentioned a place which had just closed.

In April, 1984, they opened their restaurant.

It hasn’t all been peaches and cream – or, rather, chicken paprikas and spaetzle – since then; businesses have ups and downs. Yet through it all, Novaks Hungarian restaurant has not just survived, but thrived.

They are well known for their free annual Thanksgiving dinner. Anyone is invited – the only guidelines are not having the means and not having family with which to spend the holiday. Often, they welcome pleasantly surprised freeway passengers, happy to see the restaurant open and cash register closed. The community rallies to help, donating turkeys and money. The Novaks can, and will, share story after story about the people who have happened through the restaurant doors those Thanksgiving days. They know God is providing, through them.

I feel this same spirit every time I dine at Novak’s Hungarian Restaurant.

Stop in for a glass of Pinot Gris and a Chicken Schnitzel, or a Novak’s House Pilsner and a Papa's Kolbasz sausage the next time you’re in Albany, Oregon.

Tell Mama and Papa I sent you.

Novak’s Hungarian Ham & Eggs Ingredients:

Marinated smoked pork loin

Egg

Spaetzle

Green Onions

Red Pepper

If the idea of speaking in public about your business leaves you wanting to crawl under the covers and hide all day, e-mail me at laurahanj@comcast.net to learn more about Authentic Performance for Speakers, Managers and Entrepreneurs. This is a short, mightily focused and affordable program to get you speaking in a way that will have your clients knocking down the door to work with you.

If you found this post helpful, please spread the love and pass it along to a friend!

Authentically Yours, Laura