DRAUGAS NEWS Lithuanian World Wide News in English
Lukrecijus Tubys
This summer, heritage conservationist and cultural explorer Vilius Žalpys led another group of young Lithuanians on the fourth annual “Roots” (Šaknys) expedition, aimed at restoring abandoned graves of Lithuanian immigrants and uncovering the stories of their ancestors. The group traveled to Pennsylvania’s Anthracite region, known for its historic Lithuanian churches and cemeteries. Described by participants as a deeply emotional journey, the expedition brought history to life and, for some, provided the chance to connect with long-lost relatives. It united both the living and the dead, creating a powerful tribute to shared heritage.
The Team
Each year, the Roots expedition brings together a unique group of participants. Returning veterans included students Aldas Kriaučiūnas, Lukas Urbonavičius, and Emilija Dzerzanauskaitė. Joining the expedition for the first time were Aleksa Skiotys, Brigita Kancleris, Lithuanian filmmaker Martynas Valius, journalist Julia Kosa-Valienė, and medical student Asta Matulevičiūtė. Julia and Asta hail from Punsk, a Lithuanian town in Poland’s Suvalkai region. Andrius Trunovas, who works with the Cemetery Database company, cemetery.lt, traveled from Lithuania to take part in the project.
Later in the week, Julijonas Matukas from the Consulate General of Lithuania in Chicago and Asta Zelenkauskaitė, an Associate Professor of Communication at Drexel University, joined the team.
A Journey Across Forgotten Cemeteries
From August 12-17, the group visited over 15 cemeteries, many of which had been neglected for years. Overgrown bushes, fallen grave markers, and tall grass covered the burial sites. “While one team restored the headstones, others cleared the paths or sawed away fallen trees,” Žalpys explained. To honor the Lithuanian immigrants buried there, the team erected identification plaques at several cemeteries, ensuring the story of Lithuanian immigrants is preserved.
At the Lithuanian Independent Cemetery in Nanticoke, Pennsylvania, the group met Jo-Anne Sabalaske, a descendant of Lithuanian immigrants. She thanked the group for their work and shared her sadness that the town no longer maintained the cemetery. She offered to help with future projects and expressed gratitude for their efforts to honor the Lithuanian legacy in Pennsylvania.
History Comes Alive: The Anthracite Legacy
The expedition wasn’t just about cleaning up cemeteries—it was about reconnecting with heritage. The group visited churches and museums and even helped out at the new Lithuanian Museum, founded by Anne Chaikowsky Skirmantas at the Chaikowsky Funeral Home in Shenandoah.
A particularly moving stop for the Roots group was the Anthracite Heritage Museum in Scranton, where Curator John Fielding had arranged for a volunteer to guide the team. The visit began with a focus on anthracite coal, the densest and hottest-burning coal found in the highest concentration in this region. Soon, the group confronted the harsh realities faced by 19th-century Lithuanian immigrants, many of whom worked in treacherous coal mines under dangerous and often deadly conditions.
The museum showcased artifacts like the diary of Lithuanian miner Stanislovas Patalunas, miners’ work clothes, and photographs, including images of Lithuanian immigrant Jonas Martinkus, who built machinery for the mines.
“It was like traveling back in time,” reflected Žalpys, noting how the visit deeply moved the group. Learning about the sacrifices and hardships their ancestors endured gave the participants a renewed sense of gratitude for their own lives.
After the museum visit, the group continued to the Lithuanian National Catholic Church in Scranton. Eighty-year-old Jon Yudiskas, whose father helped establish the breakaway Lithuanian congregation, led the tour. The church originally began as Roman Catholic but split off for various reasons, including resistance to handing over its deed to the diocese. Mr. Yudiskas expressed concern that research groups from Lithuania have taken archival documents and have yet to return them. He noted that the most recent group from Kaunas University had taken the only copy of the Lithuanian National Catholic Church Cemetery map. Žalpys reassured him that he would try to retrieve the document.
A memorable moment occurred when Julia Kosa-Valienė discovered Lithuanian-language prayers to the Holy Mother Mary inside the church. Julia inquired whether the congregation still sang and prayed in Lithuanian. Mr. Yudiskas explained that although the community no longer spoke Lithuanian fluently, they still used it on special occasions.
The group’s final stop of the busy day was the Lithuanian National Catholic Cemetery, where Mr. Yudiskas showed them what needed to be done. Although the cemetery appeared better maintained than others, appearances were deceiving. Trees had gradually grown along one end of the cemetery, which, if left unchecked, could have eventually upended graves. The team’s cleanup efforts were both practical and symbolic, breathing new life into these forgotten resting places.
Bells, Prayers, and a Touch of the Divine
One of the most moving experiences occurred at Our Lady of Šiluva Church near Maizeville on August 15, the Feast of the Assumption. In Lithuania, this holy day, known as “Žolinė,” blends harvest traditions with celebrating Mary’s assumption into heaven. In keeping with tradition, Asta Matulevičiūtė and Julia Kosa-Valienė, both from the Punskas-Seinai region, crafted wreaths of field flowers and harvest grains to adorn banners depicting Our Lady of Šiluva and Our Lady of the Gate of Dawn, which Žalpys had brought from Lithuania. The Roots participants carried these banners in procession around the closed church as they sang the Lithuanian hymn “Sveika, Marija, Motina Dievo” (Hail Mary, Mother of God).
Suddenly, church bells began to ring. At first, the group was puzzled—the church had been closed for some time. They soon realized the sound was coming from a passing coal train. “It was as if Mary or the coal miners in heaven were sending us a sign of gratitude,” Žalpys recalled. “The moment was so powerful, it gave us all goosebumps.”
A Serendipitous Family Reunion
For Asta Matulevičiūtė, the journey to Pennsylvania from her home in Lithuania became deeply personal. She had brought a photograph of her great-grandfather’s brother’s son, Vincent Matulevičius, quietly hoping to reconnect with her unknown American relatives. To her astonishment, the connection was made on the very first day of the expedition. During an interview with a local journalist, Asta shared her family story and showed the photograph. In an unexpected twist of fate, the journalist recognized Vincent’s daughter, Mary, and arranged a meeting. It was a moment of pure serendipity.
That evening, Asta met her long-lost relatives, Mary and her brother George, who are the grandchildren of her great-grandfather’s brother. “Meeting my relatives felt like a miracle,” Asta shared. “I never imagined that I would travel so far from home and find a part of my family I didn’t even know existed.”
Although Mary and George, now in their 70s, do not speak Lithuanian, the emotional bond was undeniable. Their grandfather, Jurgis Matulevičius, had emigrated to Pennsylvania in the mid-19th century to work in the coal mines. The reunion added a profoundly personal layer to Asta’s journey, bridging generations and continents in a way she had never expected.
Asta later reflected on how the Roots experience deepened her understanding of her identity. “This project opened my eyes to the importance of our history and heritage,” she wrote in her journal. “It has strengthened my love for Lithuania and my desire to work for its future.”
Digitally Preserving a Lost Legacy
The expedition also aimed to document and digitally preserve the graves of Lithuanian immigrants. Andrius Trunovas, leader of the cemetery mapping project cemety.lt, photographed over 3,000 graves across eight cemeteries during the trip. His objective was to create a digital map to help people in Lithuania and abroad locate their ancestors’ burial sites.
“The intention is to make this material publicly accessible, preserving Lithuanian heritage in a digital format,” said Trunovas, whose platform already includes information on 1.5 million burials across 1,300 cemeteries.
In the U.S., he noted, many Lithuanian graves were “Americanized” with anglicized names, making them harder to identify without expert knowledge. With help from Žalpys’s stories and historical context, the team could adequately document the graves and ensure their preservation.
A Community United
The team also participated in the Knights of Lithuania Council 144-sponsored Lithuanian Days at Catalpa Grove in Barnesville, Pennsylvania, billed as the oldest ethnic festival in the U.S. The Roots project received overwhelming support, with over $1,000 donated on the spot to help fund future expeditions.
“For me, it was an incredibly emotional moment,” said Žalpys. “Seeing so many descendants of Lithuanian immigrants come together to honor their roots—it brought tears to my eyes.”
The Roots expedition is organized by the Lithuanian American Community of the USA and the U.S. Lithuanian Youth Association, with generous financial support from the Chicago-based Lithuanian Foundation. Žalpys hopes to continue the project next year, as there are still many graves to restore and stories yet to uncover.
Beneath the Surface
From a diary entry of Roots participant Andrius Trunovas: Reflections on the Struggles of Lithuanian Coal Miners in Pennsylvania
In the coal-mining towns of Pennsylvania, once home to the largest Lithuanian communities, the first wave of emigrants arrived between 1870 and 1920. Fleeing the Czarist regime, many settled here and took on grueling and dangerous work in the coal mines. Men—and even children as young as nine—endured harsh conditions, and many lost their lives. Widows were often forced to remarry within days, as they had no other means of support. There are countless stories of men, worn down by the relentless labor, telling their families they would work one last day before returning to Lithuania, only for their wives, who had packed up the family’s belongings, never to see them alive again.
I ended the project week by descending into a 400-meter-deep coal mine. Before the train set off, one of the Americans on the tour asked for a moment to take his medication. I was lucky enough to be distracted by the chatter of a three-year-old boy, who helped take my mind off the anxiety of descending so far underground.
For the first fifteen minutes, I focused on practicing all the breathing techniques I had learned, trying to adjust to the experience. Once I settled in, I started to hear the guide and fully immerse myself in the reality of standing in the very place where Lithuanians once toiled so hard. We descended only to the first level, 400 meters underground, though the mine had four levels in total, with the deepest reaching between 1,600 and 2,000 meters.
This mine had been in operation since 1855, running two 10-hour shifts each day. If a worker was injured at the start of a shift, they were laid on their side and only brought to the surface at the end. No matter the severity of the injury, they were taken home and left on the front porch.
Wages were mostly paid in grocery tickets, redeemable at a store owned by the mining company. Rent for the living quarters was deducted, and whatever little remained was given in cash. Wives often accompanied their husbands to collect their wages, ensuring the money wasn’t spent at the nearest saloon. If a man died, the coal company gave the widow and her family 24 to 72 hours to find another provider. If one couldn’t be found, the family was evicted.
Despite these hardships, Lithuanian communities quickly formed, pooling funds to support needy families, organize funerals, and erect memorials. Over time, they realized the coal mines weren’t the dream they had hoped for, and they adapted. They sent their children to school, found work in light industries, opened saloons and stores, and sold their land in Lithuania to buy larger homes in Pennsylvania to rent out. Lithuanians became known for their frugality, often eating less to save for a better life. They worked hard to sustain their communities and support each other.