In Search for the Wusz grave in Medja, Serbia!

Medja, Serbia….August 4, 2025…Search for the Wusz grave…

Our drive departed civilization once we left Zranjanin, Serbia. Soundtrack of the “Yugoslavian Synth Pop Bangers” playlist on Spotify accompanied us, as roads became less populated, and more narrow. City scapes turned into wide, flat farmlands, of massive sunflower and corn fields. After 45 minutes driving from Zranjanin, we arrived at my ancestral family village, Medja (formerly Pardan). Located right on the eastern border of Serbia with Romania, this small village is our focus for this long awaited heritage trip. Years before, sitting comfortably back in Portland, my Grandpa Frank told me of our roots here. He explained the family history: German farmers in the early 1800’s were needed to tame the frontier lands of what was then a distant outpost of the Austrian-Hungarian empire. Our family heeded the call for more land and space and settled in what is now eastern Serbia. Many Southern Germans (Swabian’s) did the same. Until the family departed to the USA in 1915, there were many Wusz’s in this area. Frank reported that his grandparents (Magdalena, died 1889 and Andres, died 1920) were buried in Medja, and since that day he told me this (around 2004?), I have wanted to take a pilgrimage to this site.

Medja is a very sleepy town, still an active farming community. More than half of the structures in this town are dilapidated and falling over in ruin. It’s the kind of place where the old men of the village spend their days in front of the only cafe, playing backgammon, while the old ladies of the village peer from upper story windows at any one that passes by. Main transport of the town is by bicycle. Houses are all very similar….a gate leading to a small homestead of house, and barn; chickens and cows in the courtyard. I imagined my family living in one of these, although most were dated to the1920’s, so we would have been gone by then. I wonder what kind of dwellings were here previously? Perhaps more wood, than the dominant brick/plaster here today.

Smack dab in the center of town is an old church, falling to ruin. Outside the church stands a solitary grave, with the surname “Schneider” on it, dated 1920. After traveling around Serbia for a few days now, we are able to differentiate the more common orthodox style church (usually with bulbous section of main spire) from the catholic style church (straight steeple). This is the towns Catholic Church. Surrounding the church, are overgrown grounds and what looked to me to be pieces of grave stones. My family is very catholic….so I am 100% sure this is the place where my family members were buried. Unfortunately, lost to time. The church is crumbling, the doors are locked, the Catholics have left town many years ago. It was a humble, powerful, and peaceful experience walking the overgrown grounds, thinking about what this place looked like in the past. As we gathered our thoughts in front of the church, a swarm of owls flew right over us. Perhaps we disturbed them, perhaps it was a sign!! :) Either way, it was amazing, and I was puzzled, because I thought owls were solitary creatures! But these ones all hung out together…and in the day time!. Maybe if we’d stayed longer, they would have cried ”woooooz wooooz” instead of “hoo hoo”.

After exploration of the church grounds, we slowly drove the entire town of Medja, much to the satisfaction of the locals peering eyes. We imagined that we have become part of the local lore now…not many tourists make it to this place. Half of the dwellings in ruin, half being kept up, there is also a more well kept Orthodox Church (newer construction and also locked up), and some very creepy, haunted looking properties. We bravely entered one, full of wood, dirt, and wall paper, it looked like it had been untouched for 50 years…there was no graffiti or signs of humans trashing it… just left behind to time.

It had been a goal of mine to visit this place, ever since Frank told me about it back in 2004. I am thankful for an adventurous partner like Sarah, who would join me on this quest. And although we didn’t see a Wusz grave like I had hoped, it certainly was fulfilling and worthy of our efforts to get here. I felt the ancestral pull and spirit of lost generations. This place is still steeped in the past and it was a good feeling to be absorbed by it all. Frank never had a chance to visit this place, so I also feel like I did it for him, as well.

We found a Yugo in town too…