Coda: On a happier note, something fascinating (to me, perhaps to the rest of my family, to no one else I’d imagine was) revealed to me by the friendly person in reception at the hotel. He asked if my last name was Hungarian. I told him no, that it was Croatian. He thought that was interesting and said that it is the name of a kind of bird…he pronounced it HARK-itch, by the way. But he couldn’t remember which bird.
This is exciting news! After all, my ancestry stops with my grandparents, who on both sides of the family came to the U.S. from Central/Eastern Europe. Whenever I asked either of my grandfathers what village they came from they answered, “You don’t want to know.” But now I might just have a bead on it, if only a bird-bead, so I started to think of possibilities:
Jack Nightingale (et in Arcadia ego…)
Jack Sparrow…that’s been taken
Jack Pimpernel,,,only when I blush a scarlet red
Jack Warbler…move over Bing Crosby
Jack Pigeon...apologies to Walter (with a d)
Jack Cuckoo or jack Loon…too close to the truth!
I could go on, but then I tend to.
I feel just a bit like another Jack felt when he discovered his identity, though all he had known before was that he came from a...handbag!! End of this bird-brained coda – but maybe more to come as the search for my past continues!