The Past Lingers Lightly Around Bill Sarkozi’s Place

By Steve Bigham

While the busy world around him goes about its hectic daily routine, Bill Sarkozi takes care of business in and around his Newtown home. He’s got chickens and rabbits to feed, cords of wood to stack, and a handful of lawnmowers to repair. At age 93, it’s business as usual for this old-timer.

“I just keep busy, that’s all,” he says with a grin.

Each day, Mr Sarkozi makes his way down to the mailbox to get his mail accompanied by a goose, one of a handful who live at his Chestnut Hill Road home. The daily event has not gone unnoticed by neighbors, who watch with amusement as the goose waddles behind.

“We love to see Bill and the goose walking down to get the mail. Newtown hasn’t completely lost its rural charm,” noted Rose Crofutt, who lives across the street.

This hard working man moved to Newtown back in 1971 soon after retiring as a machinist from Bridgeport’s Bullard Manufacturing. Life in Newtown today is much different from the way it was back then, but it hasn’t changed much for Bill Sarkozi. He still prefers the simpler things that have gotten him by all these years. His wife died a couple of years ago and many of his friends have also passed on. Nevertheless, Mr Sarkozi moves on tirelessly. He has three daughters and eight grandchildren to look after, not to mention all those chickens.

“I feel great,” he said. “I have no aches or pains. Matter of fact, I was at the doctor’s office over Thanksgiving and he gave me a clean bill of health.”

Each Thursday, Bill drives to Bridgeport where he runs the weekly bingo night at his church. When he’s not helping his church, he’s helping his neighbors.

“He represents a time gone by. He’s easy going and he’ll help anybody out. He’s sort of a farm man, but yet he’s a machinist by trade,” noted neighbor Kenneth Johnson.

Mr Sarkozi came to the United States in 1920 from Hungary at the age of 13. His father had been a prisoner in a Siberian prison camp during World War I and sought to provide a better life for his family.

“He was a shoemaker and he made boots for everyone. They really needed them up there in Siberia,” he said. “He would use any kind of material he could get his hands on.”

Mr Sarkozi served his apprenticeship as a toolmaker during his early days in Torrington, a city that has always been home to a large population of Hungarians. It was in Torrington that he met his wife, Valerie, a Hungarian herself.

“She was always worried about me,” said Bill of his wife of some 60 years. “My wife was sick for a couple of years so she taught me how to cook knowing that I would still be around after she was gone.”

Two years ago, Bill returned to Hungary to visit the home that his parents left behind so many years ago. It was taken away by the Communist government soon after they left and is now home to the chief of police.

“They wouldn’t let me in,” he said.

Connie Henrici calls Bill Sarkozi the perfect neighbor.

“His mind is right on and he’s so kind to everyone. He’s repaired our saw. He’s repaired our lawnmower. That kind of thing doesn’t happen anymore,” she said. “That’s why I love it here; because it’s so rural and there are people like that.”