In some ways, Katelyn and I wouldn’t have met had it not been for blueberries.
Katelyn’s father escaped from Hungary not once, but twice. The second time was to escape Russian communist occupation in 1951. Before that, he escaped as the German’s invaded in 1945 just before American forces arrived to push out the Nazis. In escaping from Hungary in 1945, he and his brother crossed the border into Austria, where they had little to eat. While they occasionally ventured to a town for vegetables, they weren’t always available. Instead, the season allowed them to hike up Mount Salve in Hopfgarten, Tyrol, where they could find lowbush blueberries.
“We’d eat Brennessel, sort of a stinging nettle,” Emry, now 92, remembered. “Once cooked, it wasn’t all that bad. You had to collect it with gloves, of course. We could find that stuff all over, just as blueberries.” Of course, he’d prefer blueberries. Fortunately, he could get them with his brother in almost unlimited quantities on Mount Salve.
This summer, Emry joined us at the farm and couldn’t stop picking blueberries. This time, however, he was picking from North Sky’s highbush blueberries. And instead of with his brother, he picked them with us. He was grateful that blueberries helped sustain him during those difficult times nearly 80 years ago. And we are grateful that he’s around today to pick with and his grandkids.
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