Village Tour 3: Halbstadt, Muntau

Our third day was focused on the largest Mennonite community in the Molotchna Colony called Halbstadt, now named Molochansk. Before my Grandfather and his family emigrated to Canada, they lived in a home in this village for most of the year. My relatives attended the local church and school in Halbstadt, and residency in the village also provided his family with an active social life. Summers were spent at their estate called Zelyonoye roughly 50 miles to the south near the city of Melitopol, as located by our Ukrainian guides.

Before I record more about our visit to Halbstadt, I want to include some pictures taken around 1910-1913 of former life on the summer estate since this was an integral part of my ancestor's experience in the Ukraine.

(from l-r) Peter, Jakob (father), Manja, Nicholai (grandpa), Maria (mother), Liese, Jascha & Tina

The homestead of the estate Zelyonoya which Grandpa's mother, Maria Bahnmann, inherited.

Grandpa's mother and sisters during fruit canning season

The boat dock on the River Stovok; Jascha is in the boat

Grandpa's brother Jascha and sister Tina

Jakob with son Peter beside the steam engine of the threshing machine

Threshing machine where the straw was blown along the long pipe and used as animal feed

Many a reference has been made to the bridge over the Molotchna River as villagers often crossed at this location when heading in and out of NW Halbstadt. I didn't realize the Mototchna River was a substantial river in the Ukraine, being 197 km long and draining into the Azov Sea, because it looked quite insignificant (practically non-existent) on the day we visited... but then I learned later that a dam upstream was interrupting the flow of water!

Looking down at the riverbed from the bridge

Needless to say, our journey to Halbstadt was an amazing opportunity to visit the streets, buildings and neighborhoods where the stories told to me by my ancestors actually took place! I remember my Grandfather sitting at the typewriter arduously recording his over-800 page story. Little did I think as a young boy, that his writings would be published into a book some 25 years after his death (published 2013 by Pandora Press) or that I would personally visit the places he identified on maps and diagrams.

One of the first stops in Halbstadt was at the old Willms Mill. This mill was a grain or flour mill when Grandpa lived in the village and has since been converted to a condensed milk factory that was shut down 20 years ago. The building is still standing and the good people at the Mennonite Centre in Molochansk were able to get permission for our tour group to explore the mill. Most visitors are denied access because it is simply too dangerous (without proper railings etc) but we promised to be careful =)

Inside definitely looked like a factory that had not been in operation for a long time but, regardless, it was exciting to be in the building that was in operation during the early years. Quite an undertaking and operation for an early 20th century enterprise in a small Mennonite community!

Looking out the window at the surrounding neighborhood

Our tour group can claim that we were one of the first to go underneath Halbstadt into secret tunnels. I used the word 'secret' given the fact that no one, including my Grandfather, ever wrote about these tunnels in all their writings over the years!? I would love to be able to ask those who used to live in Halbstadt 100 years ago whether they knew about these tunnels that were apparently built in the late 1800s.

The tunnels were discovered recently when an old gentleman in his 90s relayed stories about how he and his friends played in them when he was a child. Parents at the time were concerned about their children's safety, so they were boarded up. Well, from generation to generation, people eventually forgot about the tunnel system until this old man was recently interviewed. How wonderful that Ukrainian workers immediately set out to uncover these tunnels and string electricity so our group could be the first to visit them!

Opening to let in daylight

As mentioned earlier, a Mennonite Center exists in Halbstadt with a mission to reestablish the Mennonite presence in the local community through the offering of humanitarian services. Through the help of supporters overseas, they were able to purchase and renovate the former Maedchenschule building. It was at this former Girl's School where our group rested and were pleasantly surprised by a presentation from local kids before a lunch of borscht and cottage cheese crepes.

Girl's School in the early 20th century

After lunch, it was time to get down to business to visit the home where my Grandfather spent his youth. Fortunately, the house is still standing after all these years! Our friends at the Mennonite Center contacted the current resident and, once they heard the descendants of the Fehderau family would be in town, they graciously gave us the key to explore their home -- inside and out!

Here is my Grandfather, Nicholas Fehderau, as a 7 year old standing near the front door of his home on the corner of Poststrasse and Zentraljnana. How wonderful that 107 years later, my Aunt Rita and I were able to stand for a picture in the same location as my Grandfather!

New look to the front of the house; notice room addition where front door was once located

Original photo of the backyard and veranda area

While it was difficult to accept the deterioration of this beautiful home over the century, it was exciting to see identifying marks that proved it was my Grandfather's residence. Decorative capstones and design in brick patterns were still present along with the basic footprint of the home. Some of the major changes included the boarding up of the front door, the obvious reduction of the roof and interior layout split into two apartments... but the home was definitely 'recognizable'.

What remains of the summer kitchen and wood shed in the backyard

Never did I imagine that I would be able to sit on the veranda where my Grandfather's family sat in the evenings and walk through the rooms that were fraught with terror when the Revolutionaries burst into the house demanding whatever was on their mind at the time.

"The evenings and nights in South Russia were pleasantly cool after a hot day. As usual, we sat on the veranda and talked. Liese disappeared and came back with a bowl of sunflower seeds that she had roasted during the day. The kernels were large and especially good and soon we were sitting and cracking seeds. We Mennonites had adopted the cracking of sunflower seeds from the Russians who made it a common practice. Some people could crack and spit very fast. Not the prettiest sight, a whole group of people cracking and spitting, but once you got started it was hard to stop. Again and again, your fingers would dip into the bowl of seeds. Not that cracking seeds interfered with conversation. On the contrary, it encouraged it and that’s how it went this evening." (Fehderau, Mennonite Estate Family, p. 74)

"One day three delegates from the local communist council came to our house, two men and one woman. Papa invited them into the dining room and they sat down at the large table. The leader opened a big brief case and took out all sorts of documents. He asked various questions, which father answered, while the secretary in the group took notes.

'So, Citizen Fehderau, we have come to you for a very important matter,' the leader began. 'We have received orders to nationalize all houses costing over 5000 rubles. You have told us yourself that your house is worth more than 35,000 rubles. Our Soviet government wants everything obtained unjustly through exploiting workers returned to the state. You, Citizen Fehderau, did not build this house yourself. You used and exploited workers. So this property is not yours, but belongs to the state, to the people. We want to make sure that everyone is equal and nobody can be taken advantage of again.'

The official laid down a large paper and asked Papa to sign that our house at No. 7 Post Street, which Papa had built with so much toil and diligence, was now public property. Looking scornfully and smugly at Papa, the group watched as he signed the document. The delegates then smiled, got up and left the house. Actually it was fortunate that Father signed immediately. Had he not, he would have been arrested the next day and sent to Tokmak. Many others who hesitated to sign were arrested and taken away." (Fehderau, Mennonite Estate Family, p. 200)

Using my Grandfather's floor plan, we were able to navigate our way through the house.

Walking through the original Piano Room

Location of original front door that was removed and replaced with a storage room

Wide window sills still exist that once held plants

This is Post Street in Molochansk today and a group picture at the side of the home facing this street.

Before heading back to the ship at the end of the day, our group drove to the town of Muntau which is a neighboring village to Halbstadt. Perhaps Muntau is best known for its hospital where so many of our Mennonites had their start to life, including my Aunt Johanna who was the daughter to my Great-Aunt Liese. Once again, the hospital agreed to let us in to observe the premises when they heard we were visiting Ukraine. We felt so privileged to be able to gain entry into all these facilities because it gave us greater insight from the inside!

Hospital worker in an examination room

A couple of my cousins, Johanna's children and their kids, were on this trip with me and were able to find the actual room in the hospital where their mother was born! Aunt Johanna had marked the room where she was born on a photograph years ago, so the kids could easily find the room and I was able to record this event with a picture.

David, Louise and Becky

My visit to the Molotchna Colony brings history to life in a very tangible way, with the opportunity to see how and where life existed throughout a few previous generations.

How my life looks so different than my ancestors, living in Asia as a high school counselor for over 10 years now! It's wonderful, though, to be able to place my life in context with my family history. I can trace my heritage back all the way to the 16th century knowing I am a descendant of Claus VanDyck born 1535 in the Netherlands! Now, with this trip, I am able to witness where some of Claus' descendants lived centuries later.