MELTING POT: LOCALS DESPITE THEIR ACCENTS

By Jacob Wheeler
Sun Staff Writer

To honor the 226th birthday of this great nation, a nation of immigrants and vagabonds, the Glen Arbor Sun has decided to profile a few of the foreign-born locals living among us. In talking to Lou Batory, Ruth Gilmer and Rob Turney, who were born in Hungary, Mexico and England, respectively, we were interested to note that all three call themselves Americans or don’t think of their native soil as “home” any longer. All three have made happy, fruitful lives for themselves here in Northern Michigan, and don’t plan on moving back anytime soon. Nice to know that America can open its arms after a year in which our nation’s identity and soul were tested so greatly.
Lou Batory: Hungary — “I’m as American as anyone, maybe moreso, because I was born in another country and understand what it means to be naturalized,” says Lou, a Hungarian by birth, a well-dressed and classy gentleman by reputation, and an energizer battery by longevity standards. This man never stops!
Mr. Batory is a 92 year-young Glen Arborite who you probably wouldn’t expect to see on the ski hill, or biking the tough hills around Glen Lake, or trekking across the country on a motorcycle, though he does look 30 years younger. He speaks in a soft voice and believes in the age-old tradition of using surnames with people he does not know well. But Batory lives every bit in the present.
Watch the “90+ Ski Club” patch on his suit zoom by on the slopes, four hours a day, five days a week every winter. He is ranked sixth nationally in the Over-80 Nastar competition, but may be the best skier in his 90s. Batory first learned to ski as a 10 year old in Hungary, when everyone used strap-on bindings and had no edges on their skis. “We used to say ‘Bend ze knees and swing ze shoulders.’ Now the only function the upper body has is to hold the poles,” Batory told one of the many local publications which have written stories about him over the years.
Watch him cycle the 18 miles around both Glen Lakes early every morning, up the tough ones too, regardless of wind conditions. His secret? “To live a long, active life you need three things. You need a good woman for a companion, you may only drink quality liquor, and you must pick your parents carefully,” sounds another one of Batory’s one-liners.
Watch he and his wife Judith cruise across the United States in their motorcycle and sidecar all the way to Taos, New Mexico if their curiosity leads them so far. As retired folks, the Batorys like to take it slow and stop for a few days in towns they find interesting. “On a motorcycle is the only way to see this country, how vast it is, “Mr. Batory told the Glen Arbor Sun. “You reflect, and see what the pioneers had to do. If they made 10 miles, that was a good day, trudging slowly across the country.”
Maybe this observation, these experiences are what cement Lou Batory’s claim to be an American, though he was born into the Austro-Hungarian empire even before the First World War and still speaks with a very slight Eastern European accent though he has lived in the United States since 1932, when he enrolled in Massachusetts Institute of Technology as an aerospace engineer.
“When you adopt a new country you should assimilate yourself and make it your new country. I didn’t try to recreate Hungary in America.” Batory expresses a near regret that he wasn’t able to serve in the United States army during the Second World War, held back because his aeronautics work for the Serry Corporation was deemed too valuable to the war effort.
Batory spent most of his adult life in New York City as most New Yorkers do, always on the go. He says the most difficult thing about retiring to quiet, boring Northern Michigan in 1981 was not getting up and going to work at 8 in the morning … and feeling guilty about it. Since then he has grown to like Glen Arbor’s pace, and its neighborly friendliness. “We look forward to coming home to Glen Arbor after a long motorcycle trip. That’s good criteria for a home, though it gets a little crazy between now and Labor Day.
Hungary is a far-off place for Mr. Batory, and the trauma it suffered since he moved to America is unimaginable. The last time he visited, in the 1960s, communism’s gray veil still hung over Budapest like a cloud. With that as a backdrop perhaps, Batory doesn’t consider himself a Hungarian at all. He is a naturalized American. He discusses the wonders of freedom, but warns of the burden to recognize the responsibility it places on people who are free.
One thing he does miss, however, is the Strauss brothers Viennese Waltz, or any waltz for that matter. It’s impossible to find an orchestra that plays the waltz around these parts. Lament for old-world Europe. “When I ski I dance a Strauss waltz down the mountain,” Batory jokes. “My wife recognizes my skiing by the musical style.”
Ruth Gilmer: Mexico — “I’ll never stop being Mexican, but I’m happy to call myself American now, one of the best places in the world to be a woman,” says Ruth, who met her husband Ted 13 1/2 years ago when he was on a business trip south of the U.S. border. The Gilmers run Leelanau Trading Co. on M-72, on the big left bend in the road heading towards Traverse City, that is only open for a couple months in the summer. There they sell everything from fine leather-bound journals to Scuppers (super comfortable huaraches with boat-deck soles), all authentic Mexican products. Ruth also works as a certified interpreter for courts in various districts. She was born in Sahuaro, in west central Mexico. She and Ted have one daughter, Nadine.
What Ruth really misses from her home country are the foods, and not just what we white bread-drunken Yankees think of as Mexican food. “There are no real Mexican restaurants here. They are all pretty much Tex-Mex,” she says. “People think ‘if it’s Mexican, it’s got to be hot’. But I’m used to home cooking; wonderful sweet bread made fresh every day, and hot chocolate in the morning.”
Rob and Peg Turney: England — “The old ties are gone. You only exchange Christmas cards with the friends you had 30 years ago,” says Rob, who calls Northern Michigan home despite a charming English accent that was born in North Hamptonshire and bread in Coventry before the Turneys moved to the Detroit area in 1970. Having studied mechanical engineering at Loughborough University, Rob served Ford Motor Company for a total of 25 years before retiring to Northern Michigan in 1990. He and Peg bought an old barn in 1993 and set about properly turning it into a house.
In truth, Rob doesn’t find the area where he was born all that different from here. “An unhurried rolling countryside where most of my friends were involved in farming businesses,” Turney describes the North Hamptonshire of his youth. “Obviously we have much longer winters here than in England.”
Other than family events like christenings, weddings and funerals, Rob doesn’t admit to missing too much from home all that terribly. “You come here for reasons relating to material benefits when you are younger, and after awhile you realize that it’s friends and colleagues who are most important to you in life. Where you live is irrelevant.”
Ah, but tea, maybe the last great holdover from the British Empire, is important, and it is about the only product the Turneys truly miss from home. Peg imports Marck’s and Spencer’s Strong Tea. They prefer it over any blend around these parts. The secret to making good tea is not tough though, Rob says. “The pot has to be warm, the water boiling, then it has to steep for 2 or 3 minutes before you pour.”