In 1957, a young family arrived in Akron by train, carrying two small bags and an uncertain future, beginning a journey that would shape generations.
Jon Antalvari was born in 1955 in a small town in western Hungary, where his family had lived for generations and where his father, Paul, worked demanding, dangerous jobs building scaffolding in coal mines to keep tunnels from collapsing. Years earlier, his father had been conscripted during World War II, captured by Soviet forces, and held as a prisoner of war before eventually escaping and making his way back, where he would marry his wife, Mary, and go on to have Jon and his older brother Art.
In 1956, after Jon’s uncle joined the Hungarian Revolution, Soviet forces crushed the uprising and put the family at risk. Like many others involved in the resistance, Jon’s family fled Hungary to seek safety in a new country.
Their journey took them through Austria and Germany before they boarded a ship bound for the United States. They eventually arrived in New York and processed at Camp Kilmer in New Jersey. From there, everything depended on whether someone would help them start over. Thankfully, a relative in Akron sponsored them, giving them a destination and an opportunity for a new home.
When they arrived, they had very little beyond a couple of bags and clothing provided by the Red Cross, and like so many families, they had to build everything from scratch. Jon’s father found work as a butcher, while his mother took jobs as a housekeeper and as a floor cleaner in downtown Akron. With the help of the International Institute of Akron, they began the slow, often difficult process of learning English, finding stable housing, and adjusting to a new life. It wasn’t without challenges; Jon even remembers the prejudice they faced, but over time, through long hours and careful persistence, things began to take shape. They moved from uncertainty to stability, eventually renting an apartment and later purchasing a small home.
Antalvari family at their U.S. citizenship oath ceremony on January 24, 1963.
Pictured left to right: Mary Antalvari, Art Antalvari, Paul Antalvari, and Jon Antalvari.
Jon grew up in Akron, attending local schools and later the University of Akron, where he worked his way through college with jobs at Akron General before building a career in sales and eventually retiring as a project manager. Today, he lives with his wife and three donkeys on a small farm, a life that reflects the kind of stability his parents once could only hope for.
Jon with International Institute of Akron Executive Director Madhu Sharma, alongside one of Jon’s beloved donkeys.
Still, what stands out most about Jon’s story is not only what his family built, but how he has chosen to carry it forward. For more than twenty years, he has supported the International Institute of Akron, the same organization that helped his family find their footing when they arrived with almost nothing. Recently, when policy changes threatened food access for refugee families, Jon once again stepped in, providing groceries and gift cards to meet immediate needs and continuing a quiet but consistent commitment to giving back.
For Jon, that commitment isn’t abstract, but comes from lived experience, knowing what it means to arrive in a new place without certainty, and understanding how much early support can shape what comes next.
While his story began nearly seventy years ago, it is not just a reflection of the past. The details may look different today, but the experience remains familiar, as families continue to arrive seeking safety, work-demanding jobs, learn new languages, and slowly build lives that offer more stability for the next generation.
Jon’s story reminds us that resettlement doesn’t end when someone arrives in their new community; instead, it continues over time, built through steady support, small opportunities, and the consistency that can change a life’s course.
If you want to support Akron’s next generation of immigrants, please donate. Your help gives families like Jon’s a chance to build a true sense of home.
