My father was in a forced labor camp before the Germans occupied Hungary. In March 1944, shortly after occupation he escaped from a forced labor camp and proceeded to return to his hometown of Olaszliszka. At the time he had just turned 21 years old. By coincidence, the day he arrived in his town, which was a Sunday, there was a line of horse drawn wagon onto which all the Jews of the town were being loaded. When he saw his parents and siblings on one of these wagons, he immediately realized what was happening. He tried to convince them to jump off, but they would not. There were Hungarian gendarmes with the Hungarian Nazi Party insignia arm bands on their arms. They were all around them with weapons. His family were quietly telling him to hide and save himself. The procession of wagons with the town’s entire Jewish population began to move. The last wagon contained the town’s rabbi, Rabbi Freedlander. The rabbi told my dad to hide, and he will survive. At this point one of the gendarmes noticed my dad and with the butt of his rifle hit him so hard in the head that my dad was left for dead on the road. (This story was told to me by my aunt Eva). 

My Father made his way to Budapest where he joined the Jewish underground. His job was to pass out schusspasses to Jews to try to make it out to one of the neutral countries. After the war he went back to Olaszliszka after marrying my mother. They had three children, George (Gyuri), Suzie and Agnes. By 1952 under the Communists there was a wave of anti Semitism in Hungary. Many Hungarian Jews changed their names. That is when our last name was changed from Lefkovits to Losonci. 

When the Revolt started in 1956, it was an opportunity to leave. We escaped to Austria the night of December 14,1956. There we lived in a refugee camp till August 1957. We then by boat went to live in Canada where we settled for the next two years. We then came to Detroit where his sister Eva lived with her family,  Worked as a baker. Bought his baker in 1961. Unfortunately, he passed away in June 1970 from Leukemia at the age of forty-seven.

My father always taught me never to be ashamed to admit your Jewishness. -George Losonci