In Search of the Past

by Madeleine Kando

I have been away for the past three days. I haven't been here, in the present. Since I stumbled upon my family tree as I was googling something else, I have been traveling in the past. Because my parents had to flee Hungary after the war, I never knew much about my roots, so when I saw my distant relatives adorn my entire computer screen I knew I had discovered a real treasure.

The tree was enormous. There were generations upon generations of ancestors all connected with little lines, dating back to the 17th century. The red boxes were the wives, the blue ones the husbands. I didn't know where to start but I thought it best to find someone I knew, like a great-uncle or something.


It was a challenge because it being a family tree, everyone's last name was Kando and my ancestors really lacked imagination with first names. There were Josephs and Magdas all over the place. When I thought I'd found my great-aunt Agi, I realized I was looking at an Agi that was born in 1723. Wrong Agi.

I was being tested for endurance by my ancestors, I am sure of it. They wanted to check me out. To see if I was made of the right stuff. After all, not everyone is cut out to be an Egerfarmosi Sztregovai Marcali Kando. In old Hungary it was customary to add the property you owned to your name, so we were the Kandos of Egerfarmos, of Sztregova and of Marcal.

I scrolled up and down the tree, crawled up the side branches until I finally recognized my great-grandfather Geza. He was sitting there in his lacquered shoes, his stockinged legs dangling off the branch, as if he had been waiting for me to come and pay him a visit after all this time. His face was a blank outline, and I felt a bit sorry for him to have to sit on a branch without a face for all eternity.

I told him I would undoubtedly be back asking for more directions, but I was in search of his father, Joseph Kando. Could he please tell me what year he had died, so that I wouldn't have to go on a wild goose chase amongst all the Josephs in the tree.

The further up I climbed, the more siblings I saw. My great-great grandfather Joseph himself had to share his branch with eight other kids! I easily recognized him, neatly lined up with a slew of Janoses and Esthers.

By the time I got to the seventeen hundreds I had lost track of which branch I was on so I had to climb back down. I felt like Hansel and his sister Gretel, except I had forgotten to bring pebbles to mark my way back up.

Three days later I finally made it to the 1600's, where I found my uhr-uhr grandfather with his wife Szusanna. His box said Jakab Kando. He didn't have much to say for himself. No date of birth, no date of death. Neither one of them had a face, and above them it only said 'mother of Jakab' and 'father of Jakab'.

I was in awe of all the work that must have gone into creating this incredible structure. Someone must have spent years researching documents and archives, sifting through birth, death and marriage certificates, writing to family members and visiting graves. It blew my mind. And I was the beneficiary, my roots were coming to light and all I had to do was turn on my computer. I found out who this genius was. Her name is Judit Marta Kando. Her great-great grandfather Ferenc is sitting next to my great-great grandfather Joseph. Are they looking down on us smiling as they see that we have found out about each other's existence?

I am very tired. I am not a very social person by nature, and meeting all these family members at once was exhausting. But I am glad I took the journey. Maybe some day, in a couple of hundred years from now, one of my great-great-great grand-children will stumble upon me sitting on my branch, and wonder which one of the many Magdas they are looking at. But I'll be grateful for the effort they took to climb all the way up to me and say hello. leave comment here