Macedonian Patriotic Organization

Your great-great-grandmother was a wonder woman

Born in a small village called Brushnik near Monastir, now known as Bitola, she was not given formal education, yet she instinctively did incredible things including saving my life.

When she was a young girl, her familial task was to bake bread for the family. Several generations lived together and a total of 20 large loaves of bread were required daily. Not a meal was served without bread and sometimes bread was the meal. Bread was not only the staff of life but it was considered sacred as in the Body of Christ. As a result of her dough kneading she developed incredible strength in her hands and arms.

As a young boy I benefited by enjoying both relaxing as well as therapeutic massages. She became the family general practitioner and had a wide variety of treatments. For example, for a fever she boiled water, put it in a pail, heated a brick to put in the water, placed a plank over the pail to sit on, wrapped blankets over the person sitting on the plank so as to capture all of the heat, and had them drink warm wine.

Boy, neither bacteria nor viruses could stand that heat.

Now let me tell you about the physics she administered –– or not! Once when I was about seven or eight years old we were returning from a day's drive in an old Ford, which had a faulty exhaust as well as leaky floorboards. My mother was driving, and my father was in the front seat. My grandmother and I were in the back seat when I suddenly slumped to the floor. My grandmother said stop messing around and sit up but I didn't move. As she grabbed my arm to help me back in my seat she note that my skin was ice cold.

She told my mother to race home, and she immediately wrapped me in warm towels and did massage similar to CPR today.

When the firemen and doctor arrived, I started to come to and the doctor said my grandmother did everything to save my life, and he was not necessary. In retrospect, this was most likely a case of carbon monoxide poisoning.

My Baba was very old country (staree cri). Although she emigrated in 1903, she could understand basic English but would not speak it. She wore her hair in a bun. She wore only black long and full dresses with black thick cotton stockings. She stayed in the house almost exclusively; sometimes she sat on the porch. She would never talk on the telephone even if my mother was calling and speaking Macedonian. She considered the phone to be a device of the devil, and she would not use it. "How could a voice come out of that thing?"

She did enjoy weekly car rides, especially when we went to the real dairy and Meesho's farm. She fixed her gaze out her window and every now and then tell my mother (our driver) to stop the car. The first time she did that was scary to me. I thought something bad was happening to her. Alas no, she just spotted some wild grape leaves on the country road and had to harvest some. She was a great cook. Made chili at home for the restaurant. She was versatile in cooking for us at home.

These were depression days. If some produce from a market did not sell and my father was able to get it at a good price, he would bring it home for her to cook. She never complained or said anything to my father, but when he was out of earshot, she said for me to hear "what does he expect me to do with this grass (trevah)" in Macedonian And somehow she would deliver a tasty dish of greens.

My wonder woman Baba!

Your great–great–grandfather had a Turkish passport

True. I saw it myself once many years ago. It was in Turkish symbols on one side and French on the other. I could read neither but was told that Nicholas Alabach was a Macedonian and born in Monastir (now Bitola) in the Balkan peninsula of the Ottoman (Turkish) Empire.

At that time the Turks were mean and oppressive which led to many Macedonians leaving their country, relatives and friends behind to find a better life in the US. Nicholas had a flourmill in Europe, making him a little better off financially than most immigrants.

He entered the US around 1899 and opened a hotel in Granite City, Ill., where he was able to house the younger Macedonians who immigrated to work in the local steel mill, foundry and enamel utensil factory. There was a great demand for steel in those days for buildings, bridges, cars, etc.

After a few years he was able to bring his wife Vassa George Alabach and his three–year–old son John to this country from Monastir. Nicholas was the brains but his wife Vassa did all the work.

In time the small hotel had a restaurant, cleaners and bakery, which your great–great–grandmother ran. She also cared for the hotel upkeep. In spite of her heavy workload she still managed to have three more children. Helen Marie, your great–grandmother in1908, Dora in 1910 and Olga in 1912. She died of unknown causes in childhood.

During these years in Granite City Nicholas displayed unusual talents. He was self–taught to read and write English, spoke several languages, served as an interpreter, wrote plays and poetry in the Cyrillic alphabet, began a Macedonian newspaper, took an electronic course by mail in order to teach his neighbor enough to become a licensed electrician, invented turn signals for his Buick before they were generally available, played the oboe and was politically active in seeking independence for Macedonia when the Ottoman Turks were finally ousted from the Balkan peninsula.