Edward and Judy Hilbert Cartoonist’s Escape

Uncle from New Jersey
The whole idea to come to the United States actually started in 1941 when my uncle, who had years before emigrated to New Jersey, returned to Budapest on holiday. When he emigrated to the United States in the early 1930s, he had landed in New York City. Since his trade was that of a sign painter, he got a job right away. Eventually he and my aunt moved to New Jersey where they wound up in a small town called Fords, near New Brunswick. He opened a small sign shop. Time passed, his business grew, and their two daughters graduated from Rutgers University. Then one day the town’s only movie theatre came up for sale. They purchased it. From then on they showed movies, and sold tickets, lemonade, and popcorn.

Throughout their visit in Hungary, he told us this and several other stories about the life and the opportunities in America. He said with hard work, determination, and a little luck, you can achieve a great life there.

I was 14 years old then. Listening to his stories I decided that someday, somehow I would go to America and I would become a proud American, too.

Opportunity
Judy and I both worked hard, but we didn’t see any future for us in Hungary. The country had been under Soviet rule for years, and their controlling domination separated us from the rest of the world. Freedom for us was just an imagination.

In 1956, when the Hungarian revolution started and the Hungarian border opened up for a short two weeks, Judy and I took a chance and started to make our dream of freedom into reality.

We lived then in an apartment in Budapest near the Danube River. During the intense and violent fighting that ensued, a shell from a Russian tank had hit our apartment building, destroying our home. One early morning our friend, who owed the place, rang our doorbell. “Are you ready for a truck ride?” he asked. Apparently, he knew a truck driver who was willing to smuggle the two of us plus my friend and his small family (five of us total) out of the city to a place near Sopron where an acquaintance of his was escorting people across the Austrian border. We had a half-hour to make our decision.

The trip
Okay, we said, and started to pack our backpack right away. The five of us were crammed in between crated apples, standing uncomfortably for 8 hours.

Looking back to all this now, it’s somehow unbelievable. We left behind our family, our friends, our jobs … in thirty minutes our whole life changed!

After a few nervous moments at some checkpoints, we arrived at a farmhouse near the Austrian border, but still in Hungary. The first night we slept with a friendly cow in a barn. The following morning, everything was covered with snow. Our host took what few pieces of jewelry we had (including our gold wedding rings) and all our money. This, he said, was for the dangerous service of escorting us past the Russian border guards and across the Austrian border.

We walked across a recently plowed field, which was about 6 inches deep with snow. Judy strained her ankle tripping over a furrow. It seemed as though we walked for hours.

We had been directed to walk towards a certain farmhouse pointed out to us from a great distance. This house, we were told, was in Austria and the farmer who lived there would help us. When we finally arrived at the house and knocked on the door, the first thing we heard from inside was a deep voice calling out in Hungarian, “I’m coming.” We heard the Hungarian and thought we’d been tricked! Our hearts sank. We’d just given up all of our valuables for nothing! Then we realized that on the border residents speak both Hungarian and German! We sighed relief. The farmer opened the door and it was clear we were in Austria. We had made it. Free land at last!

My main concern now was for Judy’s ankle. In the farmer’s horse stable, we removed her boot. The ankle was swollen, purple and painful. Everyone but the horse felt sorry for her.

Bright Vienna
The next day the friendly farmer helped us onto a bus to Vienna. We arrived on the 6th of December. The city was beautifully lit and festively decorated for Christmas. Such a bright contrast from the darkness of bloodstained Budapest. By this time, Hungarian refugees had been entering the city for several weeks and all had been welcomed by the Austrian Government. Some people, like ourselves, received additional aid from HIAS. People helped us everywhere we went!

We were placed in the gymnasium of a high school. We had there our own straw-sack, like the other Hungarian families who shared the space with us. We didn’t like it. Too many people, too little privacy. Luckily we had our free transportation pass for buses and streetcars. We used them frequently and roamed the city everyday in between visits to the American consulate where we waited in long lines to try and obtain entry into the United States.

Our time in Vienna wasn’t easy, but it was fun. We visited the Burg, Schönbrunn Palace, the Stephansdom, and several museums. Judy and I were together. We had only been married for three months, so this was a kind of honeymoon for us. We were young. We trusted in our abilities, our youthful energy, the dedication we had to our dream of freedom, and the power of passion. We had guts, and we weren’t afraid of hard work. We had some luck, too. We felt free, and we had a lot to look forward to. As a cartoonist, I never took anything one-hundred per cent seriously. I had looked for and found some humor in almost everything throughout this journey of ours.

I started to draw my cartoon journal while staying in the gymnasium. I drew cartoon images of all the things that had happened to us along our escape: the blast from a Russian tank that destroyed our home, the truck ride, the scary checkpoints … and all the people we met: the farmer who robbed us, the aid workers who helped us. These drawings later turned out to be the basis of a documentary film about our escape called “Freedom Dance,” by award-winning producers Steven Fischer and Craig Herron.

To America
Thanks to an affidavit from my uncle in New Jersey, Judy and I were able to get into the United States. A train took us to Bremerhaven, Germany, and an old World War Two transport ship, the General Leroy Eltinge, carried us across the Atlantic.

When we arrived to New York in 1957 all I knew in English, was “hi” and “bye” – and I always used these two words in reverse! Now, almost 50 years later, it is much easier, but I’m still learning the language… and starting to forget some Hungarian words.

Looking back today the most interesting memory is how unafraid we were then of an unknown future. We depended only on each other and on our faith. We were fortunate things worked out as they did. I would not change any of it. Today we are proud to be able to put down roots here in America and be the pioneers of our own little family. Knowing that our children and grandchildren will grow up in a free world makes it all worthwhile.

Edward and Judy Hilbert
Edward D. Hilbert was born in Budapest, Hungary. After completing his undergraduate work, he received his Fine Arts degree from the Commercial Art Institute of Budapest. In addition to being a fine artist, he is a professional cartoonist, illustrator, sculptor and a drawing and painting instructor.
Upon arriving in Baltimore in early 1957, Judy Hilbert got a job with a drapery company where she learned the tricks of the drapery business. Within 2 months she started her own drapery business, serving local interior decorators. Her business enjoys much success to this day.
During their 4 months as refugees, Edward kept a journal in cartoon form detailing their adventures. His sketchbook is the basis for Freedom Dance, an animated/live-action documentary that is being produced by Emmy-nominated filmmaker Steven Fischer and Telly Award-winning animator/producer Craig Herron. This unique movie uses character-driven animation to retell their adventurous escape from Hungary to the U.S. (www.freedomdancethemovie.com).