There was no doubt that on his father's side of the family, John Righetti of Mars is Italian. The heritage on his mother's side, however, was never that clear. "We were raised that we were Russians, but not like real Russians,” he said. "So what are we? I wondered."

His maternal grandfather John Senich said they were Carpatho-Russians. Righetti later learned that wasn't quite right, either. He was vaguely familiar with the word "Rusyn" but didn't connect it with his ancestry until he was doing an anthropology project in college. It was then that Righetti, now 40, became intrigued with tracing his family in the little known and often misunderstood Carpatho-Rusyn culture. They were, he discovered, a people without a country.

Carpatho-Rusyns came from sixth century Slavic tribes known as the White Croats. They settled and still live in the Carpathian Mountains that stretch across a handful of nations in Eastern Europe. According to the Carpatho-Rusyn Research Center, Inc., in Ocala, Fla., there are an estimated 1.6 million Rusyns worldwide. Three-quarters of Europe's Rusyn population is found within the borders of Ukraine, specifically in the Transcarpathian region. They also live in the Presov Region of northeastern Slovakia and in southeastern Poland's Lemko Region. Their homeland at the crossroads of the borders of those three countries is known as Carpathian Rus'. There are also Rusyns in Yugoslavia, Romania, Croatia and the Czech Republic.

Throughout history the people have variously called themselves, or have been called by others, Carpatho-Russian, Carpatho-Ukrainian, Rusnak, Ruthene, Ruthenian and Uhro-Rusyn. Since the 19th century they've been known as Carpatho-Rusyns, or simply Rusyns. The ones from Poland call themselves Lemko Rusyns.

In 1990-1991, a cultural organization was established in each country where Rusyns are a minority. Together they form the World Congress of Rusyns, which meets annually to formulate common goals to preserve Carpatho-Rusyns as a distinct people. In 1993 Righetti attended the congress held in Poland. A year later he and several friends formed the Carpatho-Rusyn Society, which he heads. "When we had 85 people come to our first meeting, we knew we were on to something," he said.

They now have more than 800 members from across the United States, and it's not surprising that its headquarters are in Pittsburgh. "This region has the largest settlement of Rusyns in America, with more than 60,000 people tracing their heritage to one or more Rusyn ancestors," Righetti said. "This also became the cultural and political capital of these people, and almost every major national Rusyn fraternal organization had its headquarters in Pittsburgh."

Righetti has a "great appreciation" for his Italian heritage. He and his wife encourage their children to celebrate her Irish and German background, too. "But I am the most passionate about the Rusyns because it is the culture I grew up with (in Monessen) with my (maternal) grandparents living next door," he said. "My grandfather played a dominant role with us."

Understanding your own and other cultures, he believes, leads to respecting all of them.

Geography and history influenced Rusyn society. As mountain people they developed a hardiness to adapt to an often-difficult life on rough farmland hit by harsh weather.

Being a minority rather than nationals with their own country, they endured ever-changing borders and rulers, and were often subjected to persecution, even ethno genocide.

From the 11th century until 1918, Rusyn lands south of the Carpathian Mountains were part of Hungary. In the mid-14th century the Lemko Region north of the Carpathians was divided between the Rus' principality/kingdom of Galicia and the kingdom of Poland. Until 1772 that area was entirely within Poland. Then until 1918 it was within the Austrian half of what later became the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

"The history of the Rusyns is so confusing because they were really pawns in the international play between the Russian Empire and the Hungarian Empire," Righetti said.

"The Russians looked at this population in the slopes of the Carpathians living within Austria-Hungary, and they (claimed) that they could trace their heritage to the same tribes from 1,000 years ago,'' explained Righetti.

"They thought if they could convince the people of a link between them, it would give them an opportunity to divide the borders. They said, `We can go in and say that we are liberating our people.' "

Such a plan couldn't work without indoctrinating the Rusyns, something that the Russians couldn't accomplish within the other empire. "So they said, `Wait! There are a lot of these people in America, and we can hand out literature there,'" Righetti continued. "And it's important to note that these people did not come to America to stay."

Forget the longing for the land of the free and the home of the brave. Most Europeans arriving at the turn of the century, Righetti pointed out, came to the United States to work so that they could take money back home. Worsening oppression in Europe and World War I made America more alluring as a permanent home. Other immigrants changed their minds about returning to the old country when new immigration laws would have made re-entry more difficult.

"So here you are with the Russians trying to convince people here that they were Russians so that when they'd go back (to Europe) they'd tell their friends and relatives that Rusyns are really Russians," Righetti said.

There was no way that the Hungarians could convince Rusyns that they were Hungarians, but they had another plan. "They spoke an entirely different language," Righetti continued. "So their strategy was to say, `Yes, you are Rusyns, but your loyalty has always been to the Greek Catholic Church - to be Rusyn is to be Greek Catholic, and by staying attached there, you are loyal Hungarian citizens.' "

Rusyn Christianity dates back to the mid-ninth century when Byzantine-Greek missionaries Cyril and Methodius (later declared saints) brought the faith to the southern Carpathians. In 1140, Carpatho-Rusyns were under Orthodox bishops. The churches started joining with Rome in 1692, and there was a Greek Catholic presence from 1771.

Rusyns began moving to the United States in the 1880s. In 1891 the Rev. Alexis Toth of Minneapolis began the "return to Orthodoxy" movement in the United States by joining his Greek Catholic parish with the Russian Orthodox Church. At around that same time, people in the western part of Galicia started to identify themselves as Rusyns while in the eastern portion, they called themselves Ukrainians. They'd all previously been known as Galicians.

This made for a nationality issue in Greek Catholic parishes,"Righetti said."  So there happened discussions of are you Ukrainian or are you Rusyn? For these simple peasants, it was a rather emotional discussion. It created a lot of hard feelings."

In 1910 when the pope sent Bishop Ortynsky from Galicia to the United States, Rusyns feared that he was trying to ukrainianize them. "He only made matters worse when he got here and followed Rome's directives to change the people's customs," Righetti said. Some Rusyns joined the Russian Orthodox Church in protest, which entangled the confusion. So in southwestern Pennsylvania's coal patches and mill towns, Rusyns founded and attended churches that were variously identified as Rusyn Byzantine Catholic, Rusyn Orthodox, Rusyn Russian Orthodox and Carpatho Orthodox. One town could have three different churches with Rusyns from the same European village. To further complicate the matter of identity, many Rusyns, when asked where they originated, avoided the complex explanation of their culture without a country. Instead, they said they were Polish, Slovak, Hungarian or wherever they had lived. Their government also had told Rusyns from Ukraine that there was no such thing as a Rusyn, that they were all Ukrainians. (The Ukrainian government still doesn't recognize Rusyns.)

The disintegration of the Soviet Union and of communism in parts of Europe made it possible for Rusyns to re-establish their culture and for descendants of immigrants to visit ancestral homelands. Two, three or more generations after the wave of immigration, Americans like Righetti are discovering their heritage.

We are seeing a resurgence of Rusyn culture in western Pennsylvania and this time it's unencumbered by all the emotional baggage of the past," he said. "We have younger educated people who are not dealing with emotional ties but with the facts of who they are and where they came from."

The renaissance of interest is expected to reach many people who are hungering for information about their families. And many will, for the first time ever, realize who their people really are. But it's not exciting to everyone.

"I must tell you that there are some older people who, having been raised believing that they are Russian, Slovak, Ukrainian or Polish, then finding out that they are something else ... they have an aversion to this," Righetti said. "And I can understand their reaction."

For centuries the peasant people who lived in the Carpathian Mountains struggled to maintain their identity. Years later and miles removed, many outsiders still don't understand who they are.

One thing is certain, though. Through history that hasn't always been kind, the Carpatho-Rusyns have always been survivors.