< In Place of Conclusion >

a pilgrim's rest.

A letter from Prague, September 24, 1922!
by Anton Krupicka.
When Anton Krupicka left Bohemia for the United States 34 years ago his homeland was still a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Bohemia was now a part of idependent Czechoslovakia. I am citing from a letter published in Hospodar, which Krupicka wrote during his visit in his homeland.
"V Praze jsem se zdrel tden a pak jsme jel do vsky Pkn Olen u Horovic. Jmna ndra jsou pozmnna a j dle polohy vbec nic nepoznal, musel jsem se prvodho ptti, kde u jsme, kde e mm vystoupit. Sestoupil jsem z vlaku a rozhlel se, ale neupamatoval jsem se na nic. Po zeptn kudy se mm ubrat k m rodn ddin, pokraoval jsem psky, neb na njakou pleitost ku svezen nebylo ani pomylen. Kdy jsem spatil prvn staven, musel jsem se zastavit, abych se trochu vzpamatoval z pocitu, jaky se ve mn vzmhal. Musm se vm pochlubiti, e jsem si upmn zaplakal. Kdy jsem se trochu uklidnil, vstoupil jsem do vsi a zamil k hostinci, ktermu kavali "U kupc". Nenechal jsem se poznat dnmu, nikdo m neznal a j t nikoho a tak po 34 letech jsem se ocitl v mm roditi, kde jsme byl pln cizm. Vichni mi byli neznm. Kdy jsem ekl kdo jsem, ti sta ovem se hned na mne upamatovali, ale jak bylo jejich udiven a vyptvn, nemohu vypsat. Abych se piznal, velk dojem na mne uinilo, kdy jsem se ptal, kde jsou ty kapliky s obrazy podl cest a ke. Byla to vdy pamtka, na tom mst se vdy nco stalo. Bylo mi eeno, e po pevratu to dav rozbil a tm si pomohl. Ba, pihnal pr se i zstup na klter a chtl ve rozbt. Nemohu ten dav pochopit, jak jsou vichni rozzlobeni a rozhrni. Oni asi myslili, jak budou mt republiku, e budou mit veho dosti, ale to nevd, e mus jeden kad pracovat, aby jim republika mohla dti, co od n daj."
"I stayed a week in Prague and then I continued to my small village Pekne Olesne near Horovice. The names of the train stations have been changed and I could not orient myself according to the location, I kept asking the ticket agent where are we, where do I have to get off. When I left the train and was looking around but I couldn't remember anything. After I asked which way to my native village I continued on foot, because there the idea of getting a ride was unthinkable. When I noticed the first building, I had to stop to get hold of my emotions which overcame me. I have to boast a bit that I had an honest cry. When I calmed down a little I walked into the village directly to the pub which used to be called "at merchant's". At first I did not tell anybody who I was, nobody recognized me, and I did not recognized anybody either, so after 34 years I found myself in my native village as a complete foreigner. They all were foreigners to me. When I told them who I was the older ones of course remember me immediately. I cannot describe their surprise and their questioning. I was deeply impressed when I asked about all the pilgrims' rests with the images along the roads, or the crosses. They were placed there in a memory of something which happened there. I was told that after the coup d'etat the people broke them and that's how they helped themselves. THere even was a mob of people wanted to destroy the monastery. I cannot understand those people, how they are all so angry and ready to fight. They were under the impression that as soon as they have a republic they will have a plenty of everything but they do not know that each one of them has to work, so that the republic can give them what they are demanding from it."
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