Ancestor: Peter Rabick
Descendant: Susan R.
Peter Rabick is actually my husband's grandfather, but I knew him, liked him, and admired him. I think his story is remarkable.
Peter was orphaned at about age two in what is now Slovakia, when his parents died in some kind of epidemic. He lived with an aunt and uncle where he slept on a bench in the barn, possibly more of a shed attached to the house. For the rest of his life he refused to eat corn as it was "pig food," which he had reportedly eaten out of hunger. Peter immigrated at age 16 to Patton, Pennsylvania in 1900, following his brother and two sisters with $11.10 in his pocket.
Patton was a coal mining town, high in the mountains and full of other eastern European immigrants whose language and church affiliation would have been familiar. He soon began working in the coal mines. At age 21 he married, but his wife Katie died eleven months later at the birth of their twins. Six weeks later he married again, probably for someone to care for the babies. Unfortunately, they died soon thereafter at about two months of age and his second wife Lizzie died eleven months later. His third wife, Helen Bacha was only sixteen when they married in 1908. Their first child died soon after birth.
Peter, being of small stature, was given the job of planting the dynamite in the crevasses of the bedrock to expose the coal. He hated the danger and after having two more children, he and Helen responded to the recruiters and went to the boom town of Gary Indiana around 1914. It was a new community of Eastern Europeans with new homes available only to employees of the steel mills for only 10 percent down.
Peter worked diligently, learned to read the English newspapers and invested in real estate. Unfortunately, the depression erased most of his assets. Once again he persevered, saving half of his lunch to share with his children, who remembered him breaking little bits of bread and filling for each child, and insisting his four remaining sons graduate high school.
His eldest son married, but when WWII broke out the other three enlisted, one in the Air Force, one in the Army, one in the Coast Guard. Andy was killed in the battle at Brest France.
Peter was 60 years old before adversity left him alone. At long last, life eased. He was lovingly remembered as deeply devout, wryly humorous and uplifting, honorable and caring. I respect his strength, determination, and faith in the future. Peter had lost two wives, four infant children, and an adult son. He rose up from the depression and provided strength for his family. He still astonishes me.