Johann Buller 2

Although we do not have a definitive identification Johann Buller of Waldheim (see earlier post here), we do know a little more than we did previously. Heinrich and Gerhard Woelk continue their work by including the reminiscences of Helene Woelk, who was a member of the Krasnogorovka community mentioned earlier (Woelk and Woelk 1982, 28–35).

She recounts how in 1941 the members of the Mennonite fellowship in Krasnogorovka were exiled to the east, carted to southeast Kazakhstan, to a region just north of Kyrgyzstan and 175 miles west of the border with China. As Helene Woelk tells her terrible story, she mentions one particular Buller several times.

The steppe-land of Kazakhstan not far from Algabass.

She mentions, for example, how Anna Buller rescued her when Helene was paralyzed by fear and in danger of being left behind by the train—the train that held her son Heinz (eleven) and her daughter Helenchen (seven) (Woelk and Woelk 1982, 31). She also recounts that, upon arrival her family and “the family of Heinrich Harder with their daughter Anna (Njuta) Buller (from Halbstadt) remained in the Kazakh village of Algabass in the region of Akmolinsk” (Woelk and Woelk 1982, 32). Now we know that Anna Harder Buller (perhaps Johann’s wife?) was the daughter of Heinrich Harder.

Within months “our minister Heinrich Harder, the former leader of the M.B. Church of Halbstadt,” passed away. Helene Woelk adds, “He often came to see father [Helene’s aged father, who lived with Helene and the children]; they understood one another. But it grieved him to see his daughter, Njuta Buller, who was expecting a child” (Woelk and Woelk 1982, 33).

One morning, it was April 10, 1942, Njuta came to tell us that her father had died that night and that her mother didn’t want to close his eyes. I went along with her. What a sad picture! Onkel Harder lay on the floor and his wife kneeled next to him, murmuring disconnected words.… I kneeled beside her and gently tried to persuade her to close her husband’s eyes. The Lord was gracious and her mind cleared long enough for her to do it. Then my father came, washed and dressed the body, covering it with a white sheet. I reported the death to the village council. This gave rise to the new question for them: where to bury the body. The corpse of a Christian would desecrate a Muslim cemetery. Then the body of Onkel Harder was carried out into the steppe where a grave had been hurriedly dug. There were no coffins here. Following Muslim custom, a niche was carved out at the bottom of the grave and there the body was placed and covered with earth. Njuta insisted on accompanying the body to the burial. The men didn’t want to permit it, since according to their customs no woman should touch or accompany a dead person. Because I had to stay with the children, father and Njuta were the only ones (from among us) who went along. Father prayed at the graveside. Tante Harder was in shock and afterward never regained her full faculties. But the heavenly Father knows his children and all their weaknesses. He will find his own, they will hear His voice and arise from their graves. Even if that is a lonely grave on the wide steppes of Kazakhstan. (Woelk and Woelk 1982, 33–34)

The story continues:

Then Njuta came to give birth. I will not recount the difficult circumstances—no hospital, no doctor, no medicine. In the same room in which his grandfather had passed away, little David was born—into poverty. Tante (Aunt) Harder lived for another nine months and then the Lord reached into these pitiful circumstances and released her poor, weak spirit. One morning Njuta found her mother dead, beyond hunger, cold and all manner of suffering. That was January 7, 1943.

The details are enticing: Anna/Njuta Harder Buller was the daughter of Heinrich Harder, minister of the M.B. church in Halbstadt, Molotschna colony. She was exiled to Kazakhstan with her parents, but no mention is made of her husband. There, in a village known as Algabass, within the span of a few months, she buried her father, gave birth to a son named David, and buried her mother. Striking is the fact that at no point does Helene Woelk mention Anna’s Buller husband. What had happened to him, and where was he?

More important, who was Anna’s husband? The fact that Johann is the only male Buller mentioned in these Krasnogorovka accounts makes it reasonable to think that Johann and Anna were married. This is, of course, nothing more than a plausible hypothesis.

Beyond that, was Anna’s husband a close relative of ours or simply part of the larger Buller family and thus a distant relative at best? The search continues.

***

A teaser: we now know a little more about the car pictured here. The identification is not complete, but we can now say that the car was used by one or another of Grandpa and Grandma’s children. Stay tuned!

Source Cited

Woelk, Heinrich, and Gerhard Woelk. 1982. A Wilderness Journey: Glimpses of the Mennonite Brethren Church in Russia, 1925–1980. Translated by Victor Doerksen. Perspectives on Mennonite Life and Thought 4. Fresno, CA: Center for Mennonite Brethren Studies, Mennonite Brethren Biblical Seminary.