The person I admire most is my Great-Grandpa John. He was born in 1913, in Lithuania, in the village of Meiliskiai, which is near the city of Vilnius, the capitol of Lithuania. His real name was Jonas Olechna, but it was changed to John Alekna when he left Lithuania.
He lived on a farm. He hated it, and ran away to go to the university in the city. He knew 5 languages – Lithuanian, Russian, German, Polish and English.
He was kidnapped by some Nazi soldiers, because they wanted him to work as a translator. He escaped by pretending to be dead in a ditch. He was gone for a year, and no one knew where he was. While he was gone, the Nazis burned down his village. His wife, Zofija (Sophia in English) didn’t know if he was dead or alive. When the village was burned she took her son, Alvidus (Alvin in English), to Vilnius, to stay with some friends. Alvin was my grandfather.
When he found his wife and son, he took them and escaped from Lithuania. They lived in a displaced persons camp in Hanau, Germany until 1946. They took a ship to the United States, and arrived in New York City. He became a US citizen on April 15th, 1955.
He was very brave. He saved his family, and brought them to a safe place, where they could live in freedom and peace. He was a man of great faith. He trusted God and knew that no matter how hard it was to get to somewhere safe, that God would help him.
He prayed with me when I was a little boy, and we went with him to Mass. When he moved to Massachusetts, he went to St. Mary’s church in Westfield, and said he liked it very much.
When he came to the USA, he moved to Amsterdam, NY. At first he rented a house for his family.
He went to school at the Chicago Technical Institute and got a degree in mechanical drawing, and got a job with General Electric. He worked hard to support his family, even though it was very hard. He saved his money, and bought a house on Sloan Ave., in Amsterdam, NY. He lived there until he got sick in 1994.
When Zofija got sick, a few years after they came to America, and couldn’t work any more, he took care of her at home. A lot of people told him to put her away in a nursing home, but he wouldn’t. He took care of her himself. She never learned very much English, and he had to do all the shopping. He took good care of his son too, and helped him get into college.
When he had his stroke in 1994, and Zofija died, he came to live in Westfield. Everyone thought he was a very kind man.
He was kind. He was also brave, and smart, and a good husband and a good father and grandfather. When I was a little boy, he would color with me, and play with me. He liked to dance to Polka music, and he loved to make people laugh. He was the kindest person I ever met. That’s why I admire him so much.