Life is like a road – it has a beginning and an end, and much along the way. This picture reminds me of life and speaks to the nature of the upcoming book. While you can see the road off in the distance, parts of it are hidden from view. You don’t know if just over that mountain is a desert or an ocean. Like life, it’s a journey. Today’s post is the Prologue from The Four Horsemen and the Leftovers, presenting the author’s thoughts on how this book came to be.
We are in the process of scheduling our next meeting with our editor to discuss the next steps on our journey.
Prologue
After some contemplation and a lot of encouragement mixed with some ‘egging on’ from friends and strangers listening to snippets of my story, I have decided to finally put it down on paper. Let’s be clear. I’m no writer and I have limited command of the English language even to be called a writer. However, I do like to read books. Fiction, novels, history, biographical, scientific, etc. Reading books puts me in a different world. It makes me forget my daily struggles and how the world is rapidly changing around me.
Throughout my life, I always liked to make giant leaps to test my abilities. For example, it was a giant leap for me (at the same time a great honor) to be invited to speak in front of the graduating class of a major Chicago business school in 2013. At a friend’s party, I met this crazy kid who attended this school. He got a bit drunk and my wife and I invited him to follow us to our home after the party, sleep it off, and drive home sober in the morning. Well, this kid and I got into a serious conversation at my house about where I came from and how I ended up in America after violating six or seven international borders starting from behind the Iron Curtain without any ‘coyotes’ to show me the way. I had no clue what the term ‘coyotes’ meant at the time. I was familiar with the animal though. I learned after landing in America that ‘Coyotes’ referred to Mexican guides that charged poor Mexican people large amounts of money to bring them into the USA illegally.
Throughout my life, I have generally always oversold myself which got me into more troubles and some successes. My wife always tells me, “You get yourself into shit and then you figure out how to climb out of it smelling like a rose.”
A famous American, Archie Bunker from All in the Family, once said that, “Every time a Hungarian follows you into a revolving door, he always comes out on the other side in front of you.” Boom! I gave it away. Yes, I’m not originally from America. I was born in Hungary sixty and some years ago. The exact number is not important. If I was to compare my life story to anything, two American movies come to mind: Forrest Gump with a slight Hangover. The movie Hangover, not Forrest. I know he did not like alcohol. He was just as crazy though, but in a loving and mild-mannered way.
Low and behold, one day I get a call from this young man informing me he spoke to his professor and I’m booked for the speech for his graduating class of about forty kids and the professor in June of 2013. I thought I would piss my pants… I was in the middle of a major engineering project which was way behind and now I’ve got to prepare for a speech in front of people? Am I nuts or what? However, I always find ways to do what I say I will do. I asked the kid how much time I had for my speech and he told me up to three hours. I did not want to chicken out and I told the kid no problem.
I started to prepare for it by typing it on my computer and laptop, trying to remember how it all started with all the interesting details. It has not been easy due to my age; my memory is not as good any more. However, I managed to pump out about forty pages of gibberish in some chronological order. When the time came to actually deliver this speech, I was told that my time had been reduced to ninety minutes. Holy shit! Now what? How could I deliver something I prepared for twice the time and still deliver it in some semi organized manner? I guess I have done it to myself again. My wife’s comment came to my mind again. “You get yourself into shit and you figure out how to climb out smelling like a rose.” When I entered the class with the friend I brought along, forty students and their professor awaited me. After introductions the professor moved to the back of the class, sitting down before me. I stepped to the front of the class and put down my written speech. My friend took a seat to the right of me somewhat in the middle of the class.
I began by introducing myself and thanking the graduating class for the honor and privilege to share my story. After that, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and I started to go, “Haba-Haba.” The kids were looking at me strangely and exchanging glances. I asked for some water. After the refreshing drink, I closed the folder I prepared with my speech, and launched a condensed version of my life story off the cuff. Once I started seeing smiles on the faces of the class and the professor in the back, I fell into a pretty good stride. At the end, I received genuine applause from the students and the professor.
On my way out, one of the students even asked, “Where can I find your story on the internet?” I apologized- it was all in my head at this time.
My friend who witnessed all this, commented that I was great as we left. To me it felt like giving birth to a cow. In fact, some months later the professor sent me an email asking if I was available for 2014 also. I answered, “Definitely.”
As we get older, we all get into some melancholic frame of mind when we feel we have something important to tell. Something that may cause someone to look at their own lives, draw comparisons, and say to themselves, “If this guy managed to get himself to this country the way he did with what he had, make a living, raise a family, and be relatively successful, what the hell am I complaining about?”
While I’m not unique with what I have achieved in my life or how I did it, there may be some lessons in it for others. My advice to young people and anyone reading this: Listen to your parents. Stay in school. Study hard. Be honest and truthful to yourself and others. Don’t do it my way. It is way too difficult. It took me over forty years to reach where I am today. If you do all that I suggest above, you should be able to get where you want to go much sooner. I did what I did without any support system. I’m not regretting what it took or how I got to where I am at. I’m president and owner of my own Engineering and Manufacturing business. I have raised three wonderful children together with the greatest wife I would wish for all husbands in the world. They broke the mold. I had very diverse and rich life experiences as the reader will learn.
To protect the innocent… and the guilty, I hope the reader will not mind that I use no names. I use labels befitting the individual’s character and their action within the story, which I think will not be too difficult for the reader to follow.
My life story is a gigantic mural I started painting in 1970. Before that, I existed only on a subconscious and semi-conscious level I suppose. After came lots of shades of gray, lots of bold and lively colors. Some dark, some light. And I’m still painting what is my life today…
