An Immigrant's Story

[GETNJ]

Thank You Christine

By Lorraine Hennessey

On May 22, 2008, my friend Christine Tyburczy passed away. Eighty eight years ago, she was born Christine Kaulich in a place called Moravia in what is now known as the Czech Republic. During summer nights, I sat on her porch where she told me the story of how she came to America, fleeing from the tragedies of World War II, in search of a new life in America. She had a good life in Moravia, living in a large home with servants and a nanny who took care of her. Then the Nazis came. Her life was turned upside down. Her brother was executed and she lived through Nazi occupation. When the Russians came, she fled to Germany where her son was born.

She moved to a village in Germany where food was hard to come by and rationing a part of life. She could buy only powdered milk that actually looked blue when you dissolved it in water. Knowing there would not be much of a future for her family in Europe, she decided to come to America. With the help of relatives in Brooklyn that would sponsor her family, she waited months with many refugees in Bremerhaven, hoping that a government transport would carry her to America. Displaced people from many lands waited with the Tyburczys: Latvians, Russians, Poles, Hungarians, and those whose country of origin was called "stateless."

She was not very healthy, but was able to rely on a Jewish doctor who was waiting for the transport himself, to give her a clean bill of health so they would allow her to make the trip. The doctor had been in a concentration camp and knew what it was like to want to escape for a better life.

Finally, on a cold November day, she boarded the USS General MB Stewart for New York City. How well she was treated! Nutritious food was abundant. She took care of her young son, as the women and children were separated from the men on the journey. She would be reunited with her husband when the ship reached Brooklyn. A young sailor took a liking to her son and each day gave him an orange, a luxury hard to come by in post war Germany. When the ship landed in NYC, she packed her bags and disembarked, trying to take 30 oranges with her to her new home. The inspectors didn't approve, but relented when her son made such a fuss over the separation from the Florida citrus.

When she arrived in Brooklyn, she went to work. She saved her money until she could buy a home and settled in Jersey City. That is how I met her. She loved gardening and animals. She fed every stray cat in our neighborhood. She advised my husband and I on how to grow various varieties of flowers, trees and shrubs. She gave me flowers that she picked from her yard and was always supportive and encouraging. She never complained and worked in the hot sun, making her garden a pleasure to see for all the Jersey City residents who passed her Summit Avenue home.

When she died, she wanted no formal funeral, only to be cremated. She said that giving her flowers and fussing over her was for when she was alive. Even in her death, she didn't want to trouble anyone. I am sure Christine had many stories to tell, but this is the one she told me. I will always remember her and admire her. Her courage, strength and spirit left an indelible mark on my heart.