Searching for Middle Ground. What would Frank Do?

My father, Frank, with just the shirt on his back, fled communist Hungary in 1956 after the failed revolt against the Russians. The Hungarian’s peaceful protest and message in opposition of the communist protocols was met with tanks and bullets.

On October 23,1956 the Hungarian Revolution was born.

At age 21, after 18 days of Russian supremacy and thousands of lost lives, my father abruptly left his country, family and the only life he knew in search of freedom and democracy. He spent 6 weeks in an Austrian refugee camp before being granted a visa to come to America.

The home of the free and land of the brave where all were embraced and welcomed. Liberty and justice for all.

It is extremely synchronistic that I was moved to write this on November 10, 2024. It turns out, November 10th was the 68th anniversary of the Hungarians claiming defeat to the Russians and 36th anniversary of when my father did. I was hours into my thoughts before I connected my writing motives with the dates.

I am still trying to reconcile my feelings. Today, yesterday, and the days before, I have been left wondering, What would Frank do?

I am speechless, yet full of words. I feel betrayed yet embraced. I am terrified, sad, disappointed, worried, and extremely pensive. I am juggling the most consequential thoughts of my life and haven’t felt this disjointed since embracing the angst of my sexuality.

Clearly, Frank has moved me to these words despite my staunch resistance to speak to anything political or religious on this blog, yet here I go.

After sacrificing every last thing, my father immersed himself in America. He embraced freedom, patriotism, and democracy. He recognized what a gift it was and never took it for granted.

The lens through which he saw life, people, culture, and the differences that walked among them, was open and welcoming. His judgement-free, inclusive and open minded ways were the foundation of my early influences and enabled me to view the world through open eyes.

It was never explained, it just was.

My father’s best friend was a flamboyant German immigrant. He was gay. My brother and I shared our best friend, Tyrone. He was black. We didn’t know the German was gay and we didn’t know Tyrone’s blackness could be of consequence. It just didn’t matter.

He marched in the July 4^th parade in Venice, CA.

He encouraged us at the Hare Krishna Festival on Venice Beach in the 70’s to learn and understand other’s religious perspectives.

He waived the American flag as the Olympic torch ran through the streets of L.A. in the summer of 1984.

He raised us to be open minded, inclusive, compassionate, and empathetic souls. He encouraged us to do the right thing even when it wasn’t popular. He guided us through his example and let us find our way.

He listened.

He challenged perspectives through the influence of understanding and respect. He knew it wasn’t a democracy if we were all on the same page. He believed opposites could find middle ground and he could bridge the gap of the largest crevasse with eloquence.

He was such a gift.

So here we are again, What would Frank do?

He would think we are making a Mockery Against Great America. He would be struggling to understand the callus, divisive, hateful, and misguided energy that so emboldens us against each other.

He definitely would not want us to relinquish freedoms we have earned and enjoyed for generations, rather ease up on our convoluted consequential convictions. He would want us to find middle ground, each conceding equally.  

He wouldn’t wallow in the mire. Frank would want me to hang on to hope even in the face of betrayal, hurt and disappointment. It doesn’t right the wrong through those from whom I feel betrayed, rather shifts my energy in a more positive light.

Clearly, his energy is turning over in his grave as it pushes my pen.

Trust me, I am trying to get my glass half full!

I am trying to step over the crevasse before it sucks me in!

I am squinting to find the light at the end of the tunnel!

To my far right friends, I know you, I see you and I love you. I knew what I was stepping into and I chose to stay. It is as innately who you are, as it is innately not who I am, but I chose to stay despite our differences. I see that your choice is for you and not against me.

I am trying to remain hopeful that the consequences of those beliefs do not haunt us for generations to come.

I guess time will tell.

Unfortunately, it is where hypocrisy thrives that my issues remain. Duplicity, talking out of both sides of your mouth, saying one thing then doing another. Spin it as you will… that is where I feel betrayed, hurt and gutted.

Like, how could you?

I have a lot at stake as will many in our society. If making America great infringes on our inalienable rights, is it really that great?

RIP Dad, thank you for putting it in perspective for me.

Frank E. Kalapos – February 12, 1934 – November 10, 1988