Peter J. Hollenczer, Sr.
Janice Hollenczer Bernath relates the following: "I have the prayer book that belonged to Peter Hollenczer when he went to perform military duty; he left for the Army on the 4th of March 1889. Inside the front of the book, he wrote the following, translated into English, though some of the words were too faded to read: "I am the dead son (of?) ____________________and pupil and veteran. When peace comes, if this is found, give it to Rozi Hollenczer, of Gyarmath. April 1889. In God's hands I leave this." Inside the back cover was written: "If this book is found by anyone, give to Rozi Hollenczer, Gyarmat." Pop always told us that his Grandmother died when his father was born, and in light of this writing, maybe that was true, even though I'd never found an entry in the Church book for Eva Nagy Hollenczer.(Eva Nagy Hollenczer was Peter's mother; the Rozi he refers to in the notation was his sister.) One alternative that never occurred to me was checking the records of the other churches.

"Peter once told his son Steve that the Hollenczers were from royalty. Pop asked Uncle John once, but he said he'd never heard that story. Later, Eddie told Janice that Grandma Hollenczer told him that Grandpa's ancestors worked for a Noble family, and were ever after allowed the use of the family name. I always assumed it was a corruption of Hohenzollern. Since the name was spelled Hollencz in the census of 1768. Now I wonder if the family was the Holland Family, so prominent all over Europe, through marriages to other royal houses. I believe there was an Eleanor of Holland who married into a family of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Serfdom continued in Hungary into the nineteenth century." Janice Hollenczer Bernath

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"After some moving around, the family settled in Roslyn Heights, at Jessica Place, in 1919 or 1920, where Peter owned some land, and had gone into the business of building houses. He built several on Jessica Place, where the family lived, and where his son Joe also lived with his family in a house he built."

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"Pop (Steve) always told us that Grandpa gave Uncle Joe houses to live in, and Unk would sell them, move over to the next piece of ground, and build another house. These homes are still standing on Jessica Place, though some have had major changes, at least to their exteriors."

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"Aunt Anne Whitlow told me that Grandpa also built some homes in the area opposite Jessica Place, but when the depression came, buyers were scarce, and he lost everything. At the same time, he had friends in the Republican Club in Roslyn, which was to be a great help a few years later, when Grandma left Grandpa to live on Powerhouse Road in a home owned by the DePaolo family."

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"Anne and Joe Whitlow had rented the house at 89 Powerhouse Road around the time of their marriage, in 1932, and along with Grandma (Mary Horvath Hollenczer), Steve, Mary and Agnes also moved in with them."

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"Years later, Aunt Anna Duffy (John's wife) told my mother, Helen, that Grandpa was very mean to his family, and that's why Grandma left him. He could be seen, sometimes, walking along Powerhouse Road or Jefferson Avenue, the corner where we lived. I remember being afraid of the little man who used to stare at me, never knowing he was my grandfather until many years later, when I inherited all of the very old family photos from Aunt May. Pop and Aunt May always told me afterward that it coudn't have been him, since he was in a state hospital, and before that with Uncle Pete, at his home."

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"I've since found out, from Dot Dziomba, that Grandpa lived in a little shack out by the sandpits (in Roslyn?), and that she used to take her kids to see him on Sundays, so now I'm sure the "little man", with the funny eyes who frightened me so much was indeed my Grandpa! Dot was kind enough to give me his records from East Meadow Hospital, from the spring of 1953, when he was suffering from a variety of maladies, one of them being a suppurating wound near his left shoulder, a gunshot wound, with the bullet still in his body. He stayed there for some months, and was released to a state home where he remained until he died of vascular disease. Pop always told me he'd also gone blind in his later years, and that his mental condition was something like "shell shock"."

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"The tragic story of Grandpa and Grandma was told to me by Pop when he was hospitalized in 1983, with severe arthritic pain, something like gout throughout his body. That story is for another time; the one thing that bothered Pop at the time was that he'd only gone to see his father once after Dad was discharged from the Navy after WW 2. Grandpa told Pop that he'd heard Pop had been killed in the war, and cried with joy to know that he was home again. After this disclosure, Dad told me he felt guilty for never having visited his father again, saying well, next week, or another time, being too busy with his own family, and for me to make sure such a rift never occured in our family, immediate and extended. I promised, and will always try to keep all of us together or in touch."

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"Uncle John and Aunt Mary were two of the children who saw to Grandpa's care, with Uncle John visiting him at the home often. My (Janice's) brother Pete now has some of the craft items Grandpa made while in this home, a type of "hobo art" made from old matchbook covers. One of the things Pop later regretted was not bringing the items Grandpa made, a wooden doll cradle being one of them, when we moved to Pennsylvania in 1954."

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"I remember when Grandpa died, it was the first time I'd ever heard that he'd been alive until this time." Margaret adds: "I never knew my grandfather was alive until the day we were told that he had died. I was about 7 years old at the time. I remember to this day: I was in the garage with Janice and Steven; Janice and I had matching jackets, with hoods, and belted about the waist. Mine was brown, and I think Janice's was blue. I remember wondering about my grandfather, and had heard that he was blind, which made me very sad. I wasn't looking forward to going to the funeral, though. I think that was the first time anyone I had known, or in knew of, had died, and I had a fear of the unknown." Janice continues, "I was about 10 years old, and desperately wanted to go to the funeral to see what my grandpa looked like; we'd stayed with Carole Hollenczer and Uncle Joe and Aunt Anna the night before, but we were never awakened for the funeral. Long afterward, Patty Kehoe Koepke told me the one thing she remembered was this great shock of white hair that Grandpa had, and that now (around 1994), her Uncle Steve had the same white hair."

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