Table Of Content

History of the Metković/Metkovich Family of Mikulići, Croatia by Thomas Ninkovich REUNION RESEARCH WATSONVILLE, CALIFORNIA There is no copyright on any part of this book. Printed in Canada. First printing: May 2012 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Ninkovich, Thomas. History of the Metkovic/Metkovich family of Mikulici, Croatia / by Thomas Ninkovich. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-9610470-7-8 (alk. paper) 1. Metkovic family. 2. Mikulici (Croatia)–Genealogy. 3. Registers of births, etc.–Croatia–Mikulici. 4. Mikulici (Croatia)–Biography. I. Title. CS1039.M482 2012 929'.2094972–dc23 2011048324 This book is dedicated to my mother Louise Metkovich Ninkovich and my grandmother Lucy Kukuljica Metkovich Ninkovich Acknowledgements— Thank you to these people: For encouragement: Louise Metkovich Ninkovich, Nikša Metković. For professional help: Niko Kapetanić, Dr. Nenad Vekarić, Ante Šoljić, Marina Desin, Vesna Miović, Ivana Lazarević. For help in finding answers pertaining to the family: Niko Peratov Metković, Louise Ninkovich, Kathryn Zaninovich, Nikša Metković, Kristo Metković-Krstovan, Nana Marinović Banić, Nike Metković Kresić, Mare Metković Radin, Pave Miladin Metković, Antun Brajević, Liljana Šegedin, Vlaho Marinović, Ane Marinović Desin, Marina Desin, Baldo Metković, Božo Metković, Stijepo Metković, Pauline Metkovich, John Metkovich (son of John), Miho Metkovich, Don Željko Kovačić, Jelena Metković Vukić, Matko Cvjetković, Gerda Metković, Carol Zaninovich Koszyk, Noelle Metkovich Watts, Jonelle Michael Richardson, Stacie Selle Williams. For funding the printing of this book: Louise Ninkovich. Contents 1. Some History Dubrovnik and Konavle 1 Mikulići 2 Feudalism 2 2. Emigration 5 3. The Archive Documents 7 The Paper Trail 7 Libro Rosso (1423) 8 The Earliest Metkovićes 15 Old Documents 16 4. The Church Records 25 5. Photo Trees 35 Srpa Branch 36 Pero Mali Branch 39 Meštar Branch 41 Bajo Branch 43 Đurišin Branch 44 Krile Branch 46 Krstovan Branch 50 Banić Branch 51 6. More Photos 53 Srpa Branch 54 Pero Mali Branch 75 Meštar Branch 79 Đurišin Branch 82 Krile Branch 92 Krstovan Branch 105 Banić Branch 108 The Oldest Photos 109 Group Photos 112 Photos of Villages and Dubrovnik 116 Nošnje 120 Cemeteries 122 7. Art, Food, Wine 127 8. Biographies and Remembrances 135 9. Stories and Commentary 169 10. Trees and Charts 175 11. Identification Number Lists 193 12. Signatures and Business Cards 209 Glossary 215 Appendix A. Research Notes 219 B. Time Lines 233 C. Archive Documents 245 D. Church Documents 253 E. Miscellaneous, Too Late to Classify 285 F. Names, Language, Pronunciation 291 G. Index of Maps and Figures 295 Bibliography and Sources 302 Afterword 303 Index 305 “The palest ink is better than the best memory.” —Chinese proverb Preface— In March of 1998 I was looking through the collection of old family photos that my mother (Louise Metkovich Ninkovich) had inherited from her mother (Lucy Kukuljica Metkovich Ninkovich). I had seen these photos dozens of times when growing up but this time I was looking at them more care- fully, trying to connect faces with relationships. I came across a certain photo (Fig. 6a-6) of my great- grandfather, Martin “Matan” Metkovich, with his daughter, Nellie, and another girl who appeared to be Nellie’s age. I asked my mother who this other girl was. She said, “Oh, that’s Pauline. She was some kind of cousin and died in the flu epidemic of WWI.” Well, I was amazed, to say the least. I thought I knew all the old relatives, including all the ones who died way before I was born. Being the oldest of my generation of the descendants of Matan Metkovich, I felt it was my duty to know as much as I could about such things. But I had never heard of this Pauline. My mother had a few more pieces of information about Pauline that were interesting: She immi- grated alone at a young age (she was 14) to the guardianship of her uncle Martin (in the photo). In 1917 she married without her uncle’s consent, and he thereafter refused contact with her. She had a baby boy in the summer of 1918. The husband and baby left Fresno after Pauline’s death and were never heard from again. In the late 1930s Nellie, with my grandmother Lucy, searched for Pauline’s grave but could not find it (it was unmarked). My mother could not recall Pauline’s maiden name nor her husband’s surname. So here’s what I saw as I looked at that photo in 1998 (it was taken around 1913): An old man from Mikulići (65 at the time) with his daughter and niece. The photo is the only formal portrait of Matan that exists, and was probably taken to show Pauline’s parents back home that things were well in California. Here are two first cousins. One would live another 5 years, the other another 81. The everyday drama of their lives was played out on the same Metkovich farm that I knew as a child; the same farm my mother knew as a child and lived at for two years; Aunt Nellie was a child there, too. It’s the same family, the same farm, a part of my history. But the story of Pauline was nearly lost. A few photos, a few remembrances of my mother and cousin Kathryn Slavich Zaninovich, a few collected reminiscences of Nick Peratov Metković, and some surmises by me and others are all that is left from our branch of the family. Most of the other stories from this era of our family have been lost forever. And 100 years from now it will be the same for everyone alive today and all the others in the family unless someone starts to write this stuff down. Little did I know at the time, but my interest in Pauline and this photo would eventually lead me to meet most of the Metkoviches in the U.S. and Europe, and to collect all the names, vital dates (birth/marriage/death), photos, stories and old documents that I could find on Metkoviches and families closely related. This information is the basis of this book. But my interest in family history did not spring full-blown from my interest in Pauline’s photo. To tell the truth, I probably would not have developed such a strong interest had my mother not informed me that Pauline left behind a baby boy. No one knew what happened to this child—he and his father disappeared from our family history about a year after Pauline’s death. For some reason I decided to try to find this son of Pauline (or a descendant) and give him a copy of the photo of his mother as a girl. It was this little exercise, the actual searching for information and the detective work involved in such searching, that eventually led to my interest in family history research. (For more on this story, see pages 139 and 144.) And so I started out on this genealogy venture in 1998. My intention at that time was to collect all the information I could find on the Metkoviches in the States. At first I had no intention of going to Croatia. I interviewed, and copied the photos of, my own family (my mother and Kathryn Zanino- vich), Nick Peratov Metković in Salt Lake City, Pauline Metkovich in Inglewood, Calif., John Metkovich in Grass Valley, Calif., and Miho Metkovich in Reno, Nevada. The last 3 are all of the Krile branch. At that time I did not know of Annette Metkovich Lievense and her brother George Metkovich in Los Angeles (the Đurišin branch). It was sometime toward the end of 1998 that I decided to write a book on the history of the Metković/Metkovich family (this book you’re reading), and so I became more serious in my quest and looked for a genealogist in Croatia, via the Internet. The only one I could find was Dr. Nenad Vekarić. His website listed around 2000 surnames from the Dubrovnik area that he had information on, and “Metković” was among them; it even had the village right: Mikulići. So I ordered a Metković family tree, decided to finish my research in Croatia, bought a plane ticket, and made arrangements to pick up the tree when I arrived in April of 1999. I chose to arrive in April because I knew that was when my cousin Nick from Salt Lake City would be visiting Dubrovnik. I had never met any of my relatives in Croatia and I figured Nick would be a good go-between. At first I stayed at Nick’s hotel (Petka) in Gruž Harbor. Nick accompanied me the day I went to pick up the family tree. Dr. Vekarić’s offices were a short walk from the hotel, on the other side of the harbor. During the visit with Vekarić, he and Nick were discussing something in Croatian. I could tell it had to do with the origins of the family and that Nick was a bit disappointed about something. On the walk back to the hotel Nick told me that Vekarić was explaining that he (Vekarić) could find no evidence that the Metkovićes had come from the town of Metković (a family story that all Metkovićes know; read about it on p. 169). And, in fact, there was direct evidence that the name “Metković” came from a man named Metko Butorović who lived in Mikulići in the early 1500s (see pp. 15 and 18). This fact meant nothing to me but it turned out to be a big disappointment to many Metkoviches in California, including my own mother. The tree and family history that Vekarić (with the help of Niko Kapetanić) had drawn up listed all the sources of the information. I spent the next 15 months in Dubrovnik verifying these sources in the archive in Old Town, meeting my many cousins, and eating way too much kolače and pršut. I returned to California in 2000 with the intention of finishing this book. I had collected almost all the information, and just needed to organize it and write the text. However, I got sidetracked when I moved to Watsonville, California, and became immersed in a project that eventually became funded and took up all my time. (This project resulted in a book on the Croatian diaspora to Watsonville, and was finally finished in 2011.) Immediately after its publication, I took up the Metković book project again. And, finally, it has come to fruition. —————— As you will see in these pages, the Metković family and its ascendants were in Konavle for many centuries—long before the written records indicate. They were bound to the land as serfs and were answerable to their overlords in Dubrovnik. They lived the life of subsistence farmers until well into the 1800s. Around 1850 it became easier for peasants to emigrate. Some did but most stayed. I knew nothing of those who stayed until 1999 when I first visited Croatia. All my life I had no intention of traveling to “The Old Country” (or Stari Kraj, as it was called by the older people I knew) because of the stories I heard—about how well visitors are treated. I’ve never liked being the focus of attention, and so the thought of visiting Croatia actually frightened me a little. But it’s different if there is a job for me to do. I just focus on the job and everything’s okay. And that’s how it was during my first visit in 1999. I found myself visiting families who, under ordinary circumstances, I would not be visiting and they would not be inviting me to their homes. But I made a nuisance of myself in the homes of 6th cousins twice removed, and had a good time doing it. Over there kolače and coffee are always on the table. (An interesting note on cultural changes—in Croatia I never entered a home without being offered something to eat or drink; in the U.S. it was the opposite. Only once was I offered a refreshment.) I have visited Croatia five times and counting, and will return every few years, health permitting. The first time I stayed nearly 18 months. But visa restrictions were lax in those days. Now I stay the 3- month limit of the visa. Rent is cheap, especially during the winter and early spring when there are no tourists. The food is better (fresher, all grown locally) and a little cheaper. There are lots of people with Croatian blood who are now retiring there. Overall, it’s cheaper to live in Croatia on a yearly basis, even considering the airfare to visit the States every year or two. Metkovićes are lucky because they can trace their roots back to the early 1400s in the same village. In very few parts of the world can this be done. I guarantee that if a Metkovich visits Mikulići, they will find the house their immigrant ancestor was born in. All those houses are still there (as of 2012). And emotions can sometimes get the best of you. One day during my first visit to Croatia I was walking out to a small hill near Mikulići to get to a better location to take photos (Figs. 1-3 and 1-4). It was a beautiful day—not a cloud in the sky. I was concentrating hard on where to step. I wasn’t used to walking on terrain with sharp, limestone rocks. Suddenly I started to cry. It was a complete surprise. I sat down on the ground and cried for a long time. Thankfully there was no one around to see me. They would have thought I was nuts. What triggered it was the thought of Matko Butorovich, whom I had just learned about. He was my 10th great-grandfather (#1a on p. 13). The Metković records don’t go back earlier than him. These were the same paths and same views that Matko walked on and looked out upon in the mid-1500s. I was crying because, in my heart, I knew I would never be closer to the essence of my past than I was on that hillside at that moment. I experienced many old customs in Konavle—the shooting of the guns and making the “rounds” with the men in Mikulići on Christmas day. All Saints Day (Nov. 1) at the small church in Mikulići, when the native people return and, with the locals, they honor their dead. Sv. Đuro Day (April 23) in Mikulići, the day of honoring the patron saint of the village. Preparing pršut in the Marinović garage. The wedding of a dear cousin in the Pločice church, the same church my grandparents were baptized in over a hundred years before. But the old ways are going fast in Konavle. I was lucky enough to see (and even know) a few women who still wore the old nošnje on a daily basis. These days it can still be seen at the folk dances in Čilipi on Sunday mornings, where a group of women dress up for the tourists. But it’s pretty much gone from everyday life. But there are many homegrown and homemade items that are still there. Pršut, wine, olive oil and cheeses are still made at home or homemade versions can be bought at the outdoor markets in Cavtat and Dubrovnik. Croatians are the most real and down-to-earth people I have found. They live a sensibility that can’t be found in the States. In their presence I can feel my real roots, and can see where many of my attitudes come from. It’s a very satisfying experience. But even more satisfying is simply walking on the same paths and looking out on the same views as my ancestors. This will be your experience, too. Go and visit. Stay a while. —Tom Ninkovich Watsonville, California March 2012 Also see the Afterword in the back.