POLKA MASS AT HOLY TRINITY

Last Sunday around 7:20 a.m. I drove to the church where my parents were married, where I attended elementary school, received my second and third Sacrament in the Catholic Church, and where my parents are now buried. It is Holy Trinity Catholic Church situated on a hill in a community called (New) Corn Hill. If you are traveling north from Austin on I-35 just after Georgetown look to your right and you will see the twin spires.

The church was having their annual "Polka Mass". Now who doesn't love Polka music? When Polka music starts, everyone's feet start tapping (except those who have a tin ear) and you can spot them by the fact that they are not tapping their feet. But I digress. . . .

Making the final curve on the country road and just rounding the last hill, I spotted the parking lot where there must have been 1,000 cars glistening in the sun. I thought, "Oh, brother. I should have left earlier"! I found a slot to park my compact, low-gas-mileage car and hurried in to the church to find that it was packed.

I noted a relative of mine, and she scrunched over to make room. I squeezed in. I looked around to see if my sister and cousin had arrived. So, I just cooled my (new pea-green) heels (that matched my pea-green suit) and waited. They were late, but did find a spot near the Polka band and the Taylor, Texas Czech Choir from St. Mary's Church.

If you haven't been raised around Polka music, you won't get it. I think everyone really wants to dance when you hear that Polka. You can take just about any song and sing along with Polka accompaniment. It's so easy.

I looked around and saw so many, many faces that I know that I should know. Familiar faces - faces that have their roots in Eastern Europe. . . . the noses, the ears, the flat heads, those eyes. .

My People, I thought! This is it! When it's over, I'll have to go back to Honkeyville! I couldn't wait to say hello to some of my old comrades from elementary school. There was Eileen (Sladecek) Rosipal, Dorothy (Simek) Tomacek, Frank Foltyn, Annie Straka, Emil Danek, and Frankie Knapek. They had lost their quaint Czech accent. I wonder what they thought of me. I will never know, since not one of them asked me about myself. I had a million questions for them, but they had none for me. I should be sad and have my feelings hurt, I guess. But, that is the way it was. . . . It tells me that they couldn't have cared less. Ha, ha, ha, ha!

It was a very big deal to me, but to them, it was just another Sunday at Holy Trinity.