Travel

Inna Rajskaya

I, Inna Ilyinichna Rajskaya, was born in Leningrad in 1933. My paternal great-grandmother and great-grandfather – the parents of my paternal grandmother  - were from Belorussia. Great-grandfather Elkona Borishansky ran his own business -- he dealt with drapery and was a fabric merchant. His wife, my great-grandmother, was a housewife -- I don’t know her name. I do know that the family lived in Minsk and that in addition to their house in Zakharievskaya St. there, they had a big estate  in the Rodoshkovichy region.

My family background

Growing up

During the war

After the war

Husband and children

Recent years

My family background

Their daughter, my father’s mother, was called Feiga-Tsipa Elkonovna Shif, nee Borishanskaya. She was born in 1867 in Minsk. She had many sisters and brothers, but I don’t know their names. After the [1917] Revolution some of them emigrated to the United States, but unfortunately the family lost contact with them. I myself never knew my grandmother; she died when my father was 14.  My grandmother’s family was quite wealthy: after all, great-grandfather was a merchant. Everyone was remarkably kind; they brought up not only their own children, but supported other, poor families. I remember hearing about one family that they supported greatly - the Mazel family. All the children in my grandmother’s family, especially the girls, had their schooling at home: their parents hired tutors who came to the house. One of those teachers was my grandfather Iosif.

Iosif Ilyich Shif was born in 1870, but where – I don’t know. He lived his entire life in Minsk. I know little about his family, just that they were not very prosperous but tried nonetheless to educate their children. In 1890 Grandpa completed his education in pedagogy and became a teacher in a Jewish school in Minsk. He taught young children both in his own family and in other families, among them the Borishanskie children.  And so it happened that my grandmother, Feiga-Tsipa Elkonovna Borishanskaya, and Grandpa Iosif fell in love and later got married.

Grandpa wrote a book in Hebrew titled “Mesikhta dereh erezh”, a science fiction treatise about commerce. It was published in Minsk in 1912. We have this book at home. My father told me that the apartment they lived in was a large one. It was situated in the center of Minsk, and every child in the family had his own room. It was a house with all conveniences. Besides that place in Zaharievskaya, they had a big estate near Minsk with a vast orchard. They had their own horses. In addition, they had housekeeping servants, cooks, nurses, teachers, and governesses in the family.

After the Revolution the family, like others, was stripped of all their properties, and  the apartment in Zakharievskaya was confiscated. They had to buy a small house in Minsk not far from the Opera theater.
It was a modest one-story building, but it was always scrupulously clean; my aunt maintained it rigorously. There were gorgeous plates and dishes and very beautiful silver spoons. Our family still has, for example,  family heirlooms such as silver spoons with the inscription “A spoonful of happiness” written on them  in Yiddish. These  were presented by my grandfather to a niece as a wedding present. When I got married, my aunt (she was alive at that time) gave them to me, and now I handed them down to my daughter.

The family was numerous and very hospitable; relatives and friends were always staying with them. My Grandpa Iosif’s   elder brother,  a rabbi lived with my grandfather’s family. He was a very religious man, and thanks to him even after the Revolution Jewish traditions were followed in the house. I remember that when we visited Grandpa, I often used to see his brother reading Jewish religious literature. They always told me that one must not interrupt his studies. Everybody in the family treated Grandpa very kindly and with great respect and tried to behave in such a way that he would not scold them.  There was a wonderful atmosphere in the family; they were able to treat each other with great kindness and affection. Even when one of the children was naughty, Grandpa stopped him not with a peremptory shout, but in ironical way. I remember very well how my Dad used to tell us: “Be quiet, grandpa is praying!”

My father, Ilya Iosifovich Shif, was born in 1904 in Minsk. From 1911 until the Revolution [1917] he studied in a Jewish school in Minsk. From 1920 till 1926 he worked in Minsk as a worker.  In 1926 he moved to his elder brother’s [Elkona’s] in Leningrad, where he worked as a metalworker at the Metal plant and later was an accountant at the same plant. That’s where he met my mother.

My mother, Anastasia Nicolaevna Shif (nee Kuznetz) was born in 1902 in St. Petersburg. She didn’t know her own family, other people brought her up, and I know nothing about her parents. Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about how my parents met or about their wedding.  At first they didn’t have anywhere  to live and rented a tiny room. But after two years  a room in the flat where my father’s brother [Elkona] was living become vacant, and my parents took it. That is where I was born in 1933. We lived together in the same flat with my uncle’s family until the war broke out in 1941. The family was a religious one and followed all the traditions. We observed Rosh-Hashana, Pesakh, Hanukkah and other holidays. My father’s cousin (who also lived in Leningrad) was a frequent guest in our house, and we always ate well. But I don’t think we followed the laws of kashrut, and neither my parents nor uncle attended synagogue.

During the war

During the war my father went to the front as a private. He served on the Leningrad front. Their unit was surrounded, and for several months they  tried to break through this encirclement. Father told me about brutal fighting, especially with the Finns, during which our badly uniformed, poorly armed forces sustained great losses. Father got along very well with his fellow soldiers and officers. Though he was just a private in a reconnaissance unit, he was a rifleman. He got wounded and was sent  to the rear – to a hospital in Sverdlovsk. When he was released from hospital he came back to Leningrad and somehow  got a pass so that my mother and I could also return from Chkalovskaya region (where we had be evacuated). So in June 1944 Mom and I got back to Leningrad. After the war my dad worked as a director of a “Lentextiltorg” shop.

After the war,  army buddies of my father who visited Leningrad stayed at our flat. I remember that very well. The flat in which we lived was a big communal one that had six rooms. Our flatmates were my uncle and aunt and two other Jewish families. One of these families also had its roots in Belorussia, but I don’t know anything about the other family. In addition, there was one more family – a Russian one, a very intellectual couple who had suffered in  1937. All these flatmates got on very well,  regardless of their nationality.

My father came from a big family. Everybody spoke Yiddish and Russian in his family, and  the elder brothers and sisters also had a good command of German and French. All the children were close. I had close relations with my relatives.  We visited my aunts and uncles who lived in Minsk very often, and they visited us in Leningrad, too. My parents had close relations with father’s cousins, too. One of them, father’s cousin Elkona Borishansky, lived in Moscow but visited us very often and stayed at our flat for a long time. 

My father’s sister  Sore-Elka was born in 1888, and after her mother’s death [1919] she took the place of a mother for the younger children. She studied in Germany like her brother Elkona, and he and she visited Minsk on vacation.  Sore-Elka got married to a certain Ura. She died in 1943.

My father’s sister  Eli-Sheva was born in 1895 and lived with her father and elder sister in Minsk. In the war they were all put in a ghetto and died in 1943.

My father’s elder brother Elkona Shif was born in 1890. He moved to Leningrad after the Revolution. He was a highly educated person and studied in Berlin until 1917. He  worked as an economist in Moscow and for a few years before the war was a bank executive in Leningrad. He had great authority and even after he fell ill with Parkinson’s Disease,  the bank used him as a consultant and sent employees to his home to ask his opinion. During the war he  was evacuated to Sverdlovsk. His wife, Bella Solomonovna Shif, a doctor, was drafted into the army and later transferred to a hospital to Sverdlovsk. Uncle Elkona died in 1953.

When Uncle Elkona got sick, not only my mother, but I, too, had to nurse him, as he was totally bedridden. He taught me a lot about my Jewish identity. He told me family stories, and from these I learned a lot about my grandmother, about my aunts, and about their children. He say so directly, but I now realize that he made clear nonetheless  that everything that was  happening in our country was unrighteous. I took care of him and talked to him a lot, and I am obliged to him for the awareness  that I am a Jew.

Another of father’s brothers was called Max. He was born in 1893 in Minsk, graduated from a commercial school, and worked as a division head at the Ministry of Commerce in Belorussia. At the beginning of the war he was involved in the evacuation of the documents of the People's Commissariat, so he sent a car for his family in order to evacuate them from Minsk. But his father and sisters remained in Minsk. He learned of that only after a month, when Minsk was already occupied by the Germans. Max survived the war and died in 1946. In 1941 learned that his children, Yasha and Fanya , had escaped from the ghetto.

Fanya was a prisoner in the Minsk ghetto from 1941-1942. Her grandfather, two aunts and her mother were shot before her very eyes. She and her mother’s older sister tried to escape. The Germans fired at them. But Fanya managed to get to Rodoshkovichy, near Minsk, where her family used to rent a summer cottage, and from there went on to join a group of partisans,  where she met her future husband, Yasha Axelrod.  She and her family now live in Chicago.

Cousin Yasha Shif was born in Minsk in 1923 and finished school in 1941. When the war started, he was caught in the Minsk ghetto. Later he managed to escape and join the partisans. He was wounded in 1944. After the liberation of Minsk, Yasha went back there and entered law school, which is where he met his future wife, Roza. They had a daughter named Rita. He worked as an attorney in a legal advice office near Minsk, but now he and his family live in New York.

It was a miracle that our cousins survived the war. I maintain very close relations with them to this day, even though we are spread all over the world: they live in America, so we haven’t seen each other for many years and communicate only by means of mail and phone conversations.

Growing up

I was born in Leningrad and was reared for the most part at home. I don’t have any brothers or sisters. From the age of five I attended a German kindergarten not far from our house. There two sisters – both former teachers – taught us to read and write, and they also taught us German; my uncle [Elkona] insisted on that, as he had a perfect command of German and wanted me to know it, too. In 1941 I was sent into evacuation with children of the employees of the Mariinsky theatre. These children were leaving for evacuation, and I was taken with them through family connections. During the evacuation I was at first in an orphanage near Kostroma, then the orphanage was moved to Kostroma itself. In September of 1941 Mom arrived; she took me and we together to the  Novotroitzk settlement in the Urals, where her distant relative Abram Alexandrovich Dobrovinsky, was a site manager of the building of the Orsko-Halilovsky metallurgical works.

After the war

When Mom and I came back from the evacuation, we found our room already occupied by other people, but since Father had fought in the war and was a disabled veteran, these people left and we got our room back. To tell the truth, there was practically no furniture in our room; apparently everything was burned during the blockade. Only a very few things that had belonged to our family remained, and these were only the things that had been taken and kept for us by a neighbor. After the war my father was in very poor health, and he soon had a heart attack. He wasn’t able to work the way he did before the war. Still, our family was exceptionally united, Father and Mother had a lot of friends who visited our house very often -  for the most part these were Jewish families or mixed families in which the husband or wife was Russian.

Later, I started to study from the fifth grade. I liked history, chemistry and geography very much; probably because I had great respect for  the teachers I had for these subjects. I particularly remember my history teacher, Raisa Solomonovna Ermanok - she was an outstanding teacher, a small, nice woman, who  after the war treated all the children in the class with great kindness and interest. I didn’t feel any discomfort at school because of my Jewish parentage; clearly we had good teachers and a good student body, too.

As soon as I graduated from school in 1951 I applied to the University to study in the chemistry department. Even though I had good grades, they didn’t accept my application, and one of the senior women who sat in the selection committee quietly explained to me that it would be better for me not to apply to this department. It was clearly because of the climate of mounting public anti-Semitism. This was the first slap in my face. Why it was the first slap? Because I felt for the first time in my life that I was a social outcast because of my nationality! Then I applied  to the Pedagogical Institute, but this time to another, department – geography, not chemistry – and I was accepted.  I graduated in 1955.

After graduation I married Albert Grigorievich Rajsky. Albert was a friend of the husband of my girl-friend Tsilya Ravich; he and  her husband had studied at the “Dzerzhinka” higher naval academy and served in the North. My husband is Russian, born in 1932 in Uglich, into the family of a clerk. His father was killed at front during the Great Patriotic War [World War II]. His mother had brought up my future husband and his elder brother alone. Both of them were naval academy graduates. 

When I began to look for a job, I again had serious problems. This was because outwardly I didn’t look typically Jewish, and everything went on in the right way until I showed them my passport [which said I was Jewish].

Husband and children

In 1961 my husband was demobilized from the Navy because of me, or, rather, of because of my nationality. They gave him no hope of being promoted to a higher  rank because his wife was Jewish. So he had to leave the Navy and started to work as a ordinary engineer in Leningrad.

At that time I worked in a Leningrad middle school, first as a teacher, then as a head of the curriculum department and later as the director. At present I am retired. It was only thanks to a schoolmate - she was my very close friend, and I communicate with her to this day – that I got my job. My friend had also graduated from the Pedagogical institute and worked at a school. In the middle of the school year her school had a vacancy for a geography teacher. The director of that school was a Jew named Safray, and thanks to him I got the job. He appealed to Gorono [the city’s public education  department] and said that he felt I was the right person the post. Gorono assigned me to the job, so I got fixed up, but with great difficulties. It was the second slap in the face I experienced. I also experienced a very unpleasant situation when they were confirming my appointment as school director. This took place  in the district party committee, and when the head of Gorono read out my biography, everyone woke up to the fact that I was a Jew. But they nevertheless confirmed my appointment.

Unfortunately, I have a very bad command of Yiddish, and I only understand it a little. I regret that I don’t know Yiddish, that I can neither write nor speak it. My father knew spoken Yiddish but didn’t know how to write. Why do I regret this? It is better to know than not to know, isn’t it? Lenin said in his time: «As many languages you know, as many times you are a man». That is, I could understand the culture and world outlook of my native people through the language. Now I only realize that I am Jewish, but I don’t know how to say it in Yiddish.

My daughter Elena was born in 1961. She graduated from the school in Leningrad, then from the Financial economics institute. I have two granddaughters, Anastasia, born in 1989, and Alexandra, born in 1991. My daughter’s husband is Jewish on his mother’s side; his father is Russian. Nevertheless both I and my daughter continue to feel, to realize, that we are Jews. We tell a lot about Jewish culture to our little girls: to my granddaughters. Besides, my husband – their grandpa - takes an active interest it, too: he reads books on Israeli history, on Judaism. Anastasia knows quite a bit about Jewish culture and about Israel. She knows about all our relatives, with whom we correspond or communicate by telephone, knows where they all live.

Recent years

Why didn’t we ever go to Israel? It was connected with my husband’s work:  first because of his military service, second because for 26 years he worked at the famous “Rubin” enterprise, which is now well-known all over the world because of the tragic events with “Kursk” [the nuclear submarine that exploded and sank]. He had so-called “zero access” classification [that means he had an access to very secret documentation], so we never even considered such a trip --  we realized that they would ever have allowed us to leave.

Throughout my life, I’ve had friends of different nationalities. I have several friends with whom I’ve been close from my youth. I was on friendly terms with a girl named Naimi Yakerson, who lived in our house, and who now lives with her family in Israel. My second close girl-friend, of whom I have already mentioned, was Tsilya Ravich, we are close friends to this day. We spend a lot of time together, and visit places or go to the country when we had a chance. I have one more girl-friend, Lyalya Simkina, who moved to Poland. We often see each other, Lyalya Simkina has even visited me, and I’m the first person that Musya Yakerson visits when she comes from Israel.

Most of my friends are Jews. But now, unfortunately, we are dispersed over the world. Our closest friends, the  Khanins,  now live in New York, though they visited us not long ago - in May. We always traveled a lot and tried to show to our daughter many places in Russia. We traveled often to Belorussia, where my cousins lived  before the emigrated to the United States [after the 1917 Revolution].
After the Revolution, my parents were afraid to keep in touch with the relatives who had emigrated to America. Only  my father’s cousin Elkona Borishansky, who lived in Moscow, maintained contact with them, but after his death those relations ceased somehow. Now I maintain close contact with my cousins – Jakov Shif and Fanya Axelrod, who live in New York and Chicago; and also with my nieces. We often communicate by telephone and write letters. They try to help us a little in some way. Certainly, all the recent changes in life in Russia are pleasant to a certain extent, because now there is no anti-Semitism – to be sure, I mean the state attitude toward Jews, not anti-Semitism in private life.

When Putin was in New York and met with Americans in our Russian Consulate, there were Jews present. And generally speaking, the attitude towards Jews now has become better. Unfortunately, however, anti-Semitism can be often felt on the everyday level. My son-in-law often have problems because he has a very Jewish appearance, and more than once drunk members of NRE [Russian National Unity is the neo-Nazi youth organization in Russia] taunted him, and even threatened him  – it is very unpleasant. Certainly, I would like Russia to join the European world and not to create something special, something Russian, which is what many people are still trying to do here.

[Inna Ilyinichna is an intellectual woman of 68. She remembers many details of the life of her paternal ancestors well and is very proud of her relatives. She often  emphasizes the  harmony in which they lived. When she tells about their lives, one can feel that she suffers for her relatives who have perished in a ghetto. Inna Ilyinichna considers it her duty  to recount the  intellectual beauty and strength of mind of her relatives to those, who investigate the  life of Jews before and after the Holocaust. She wants to keep alive for future generatio the memory of the grandeur of her kinsfolk.]

Perle Liya Epshteyn

Perle Liya Epshteyn
Tallinn
Estonia
Interviewer: Ella Levitskaya
Date of Interview: September 2005

I interviewed Liya Epshteyn in the hotel. Liya is not a very tall woman. She is very agile, energetic and brisk. Her hair is curly and her eyes are bright. Liya is very affable and good-wishing. She is good company. When we started conversation, there was no tension, typical for unacquainted people. Liya said that after a difficult operation she had to go through, she changed her attitude to life completely and understood that the most important thing was love of everything around us and to love oneself. I could feel Liya’s attitude towards people around her, which was like a warm wave. I wish that wonderful woman a long life, and as for joy, she will find that herself.

The story of my father’s family goes back to Great-grandfather David Epstein. Even Father did not know where my great-grandfather was from. In adolescence he was drafted into the tsarist army. He was a Cantonist 1. It meant that Great-grandfather came from a poor family – boys from wealthy families were not assigned to the Cantonists. He served in Nikolai’s army 2 for 25 years. It was the term of service for the soldiers at that time.

Having been demobilized from the Nikolai’s army, the soldiers enjoyed great privileges. For their service the state granted them a large plot of land and money to get married and start their own business. There was a pale of settlement for the Jews 3 in Tsarist Russia. As per decree of the tsar Cantonists-Jews were permitted to settle anywhere they wished, even if Jews were banned to live in that place. That is why upon finishing the army service Great-grandfather was able to settle in Tallinn sometime in between 1840 and the 1850s, even though Jews were generally not permitted to reside there. Since that time all generations of our family had lived in Tallinn.

Great-grandfather got married in Tallinn. I do not remember the name of my great-grandmother. I do not know what my great-grandfather did for a living. I did not know any of their children, but my grandfather. My paternal grandfather Lazar, in Jewish Leizer, Epshteyn was born in the 1850s. When Grandfather was an adult, he became a trade dealer. He probably was prone for commerce as he rather swiftly became the owner of a readymade store in downtown Tallinn starting from a chandler. Garments for men and women were sold in my grandfather’s store.

Grandfather was famous for being exclusively honest. Epshteyn in Tallinn was associated with honesty, if someone wanted to say that all was square, they said, ‘Like with the Epsteins.’ In his childhood, my grandfather received Jewish education. He was a religious man. Grandfather married a lady from Tallinn. Grandmother’s name was Gute-Mere. Her maiden name is not known to me.

The grandparents had seven children: four sons and three daughters. The eldest was Moses, then Solomon, and Rosa. The fourth child of the family, my father David, was born in 1894. Then Sarah, Berta and the youngest, Boris 4, were born. Boris’s Jewish name was Ber.

Yiddish was spoken in my father’s family during his childhood. Everybody knew Estonian and Russian. The family was religious. Jewish traditions were observed. Sabbath was marked at home as well as Jewish holidays. Of course, my grandparents were more religious than others. I would even say that they were pious, sticking to Jewish traditions in full compliance. As for the next generation, their children, they were not as religious. They definitely observed Jewish traditions, but in a more secular way. Religion was a pivot in Grandfather’s life. He was constantly making donations at the Tallinn synagogue 5, contributed a handwritten Torah.

All children in our family got a good education, as grandfather looked into that. There was a Russian lyceum in Tallinn. It was called Nikolayevskaya after the Russian Tsar. Father and his siblings finished that lyceum. Father obtained higher education at Berlin University. He graduated from the Medical Department, then he went through internship in urology. Upon graduation from the university my father had to confirm the diploma, issued in Germany. He was supposed to pass exams in the Medical Department of the University in Yuriev – now the city of Tartu. It was called Yuriev in Tsarist Russia. As soon as Father passed the exam, he was entitled to practice medicine on the territory of the Russian Empire.

Father’s elder brother Moses also studied at Berlin University. Moses was specialized in gynecology. He became the best gynecologist in Tallinn of that time. I do not know what education was obtained by father’s elder brother Solomon. He finished lyceum for sure. He had a store in Tallinn. Father’s younger sister Sarah finished the Sorbonne [University in France]. She was proficient in French and taught that language. The youngest, Boris, studied at the Economy Department of Vienna University. Upon graduation he came back to Tallinn, worked as an accountant in Grandfather’s store. I do not know what education father’s sisters Rosa and Berta got. Both of them finished lyceum, but I cannot recall, if they went on with their education.

Grandfather Lazar died in the early 1920s, long before I was born. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Tallinn. The funeral was in accordance with the Jewish rite. Grandfather’s grave is still there.

During World War I, the Germans occupied the territory of Estonia. After the Germans, Estonia was captured by Bolsheviks 6. The Germans gave power to the temporary government of Estonia, but the Russian Bolsheviks, supported by Estonian communists, wanted Estonia to become Soviet. They commenced military actions from Narva and almost reached Tallinn. The Estonian army fought them, with the assistance of the troops of England, Finland and the Russian White Guards 7.

During the Estonian War of Liberation 8 my father and his elder brother Moses discontinued their studies and joined the Estonian liberation army. Since they were knowledgeable about medicine, both of them were medical assistants, but they also took part in military actions. When the war of liberation was over, Estonia gained independence 9. Father never told me about his experience in military actions.

In the 1990s, during my stay in Israel, I visited a museum in Tel Aviv, where I was given the list of Estonian Jews, who took part in the Estonian War of Liberation of 1918. My father and Uncle Moses were in that list. There I also found out about the origin of my surname, Epstein. The last name Epshteyn is common among Jews. It turned out that this name stems from Austria.

Moses was married twice. I do not remember his first wife. Their daughter Anna became an outstanding Estonian ballet dancer. His second wife’s name was Revekka. I do not remember her maiden name. They had a son, Alexander. Solomon was married to a certain Mervits. Their daughter Miriam was born in 1919. I cannot recall the first name of Rosa’s husband. He came from a wealthy and respectable family in Tartu by the name of Klompus. They had two daughters, Natalia and Tamara. Sarah married a certain Klas. Sarah had two children: daughter Irene and son Lazar. Berta married a certain Roubinovich. I do not remember the name of her only daughter. She is currently residing in the USA. Boris married Mihl Minkov. She was called Manya in the family.

Mother’s family lived in Belarus. My maternal grandfather, Shaye-Itse Levin, and my grandmother Perle-Esse are from what today is Belarus. It was Polish territory at that time, so my grandparents were fluent in Polish. Grandmother even looked like a Polish lady. She had fair hair and blue eyes. Mother said that Grandfather fell in love with her at first sight. I do not know, what education Grandfather received. Grandmother finished three grades of Jewish school. She was a very cultured, tactful and intelligent woman. She was a wonderful mother and grandmother. I loved her very much.

Mother’s family lived in the town of Korotkovo of Mogilev province [about 200 km from Minsk]. It was a truly Jewish town. Grandfather dealt with timbering, and Grandmother was a housewife. My grandparents had six children, who were born in Korotkovo. The eldest was a son, Shmuel-Sakhne, then Haim and Bentsion were born. Then three daughters were born: Rahil, Sarah, who was called Sonya in the family and my mother Revekka. Her Jewish name was Riva-Breine. Mother was born in 1900.

I do not know when exactly and for what reason my mother’s family moved to the Estonian town of Narva bordering on Russian [about 200 km from Tallinn]. All I know is that Mother finished a Russian lyceum in Narva. All her siblings were educated. Though, I do not recall if Mother’s sisters studied anywhere beside the lyceum. Mother’s brother received higher education. Shmuel-Sakhne and Haim became lawyers, and Bentsion became an economist. 

Shmuel-Sakhne married Anna Rogovskaya. Their only son Simon subsequently became a prominent lawyer in Tallinn. Haim’s wife was Sarah, nee Gloushkina. They had three daughters. She immigrated to Palestine in the 1930s and died there. I don’t remember the name of the first daughter; the other two daughters were twins, Jenny and Doris. Bentsion was married to Tsipa, nee Bovshevar. Tsipa came from a very famous Jewish family. Her father and other relatives were rabbis, Jewish religious figures. Bentsion and Tsipa did not have children.

Rahil was married to a Jew from Tallinn named Rosenfeld. Their son Isai was born in 1919, their daughter Bella in 1920. Sarah’s husband, Michel Auguston, was from Riga, after getting married Sarah lived in Riga. They had a son, Isai. All of them were married only to Jews, and had traditional Jewish weddings. All of them, but Sarah, lived in Tallinn.

The Estonian Jewish community of the 20th century was very strong and rich. Jews were always treated loyally in Estonia. Even when Estonia was part of the Russian Empire, there were no Jewish pogroms, like in other places all over Russia 10. There was an admission quota for the Jews in higher education institutions in Tsarist Russia. The number of Jews in any university could not exceed 5 percent out of the overall number of students 11. There was no admission quota in Estonia. Not only Estonian Jews came to enter Tartu University, but also Jews from other regions of Russia. They even came from Latvia, as there was an admission quota at Riga University.

There were several Jewish students’ corporations 12 at Tartu University. There was a Jewish Students’ Aid Fund 13. There were a lot of doctors, lawyers, teachers among Estonian Jews. Children’s and youth Zionist organization were acting in tsarist times. Synagogues and prayer houses were built. Jewish schools, Jewish lyceums were open and the tsarist government was not in the way. The only restriction for the Jews was that they had no right to be officers in the army.

When Estonia gained independence, Jews became equal citizens of the country. The pale of settlement was abolished. There was no state anti-Semitisms. There was barely any anti-Semitism in everyday life in Estonia. In 1926 Jews were granted cultural autonomy 14 by the Estonian government. It greatly influenced the further development of the Jewry in Estonia.

My parents met at charity ball in Tallinn. Such charity balls were held annually. They were arranged by the Jewish community of Tallinn, and numerous students’ and Zionist organizations. Auctions and raffles were held there, and some things, like flowers, pastries were sold. Rich families contributed vases, jewelry and all kinds of things. They were sold at a much more expensive price and the earnings were donated for charity.

At that time mother’s siblings lived in Tallinn and she often came from Narva to see them. Mother was a beauty. Grandmother said, when they were living in Narva, the infantry regiment of his Majesty Emperor was positioned there. All officers of the regiment came to have a look at Mother. Once, Mother was selling flowers at some charity event in Tallinn. Usually the most beautiful girls from Jewish families were invited to sell flowers and pastries. Father saw Mother and fell in love with her at first sight. Mother liked him, too.

I do not know how their relationship went, but they got married in 1924 in Tallinn. My parents were wed under the chuppah, in accordance with the Jewish rite. Probably we have Jewish traditions in our blood. After getting married, my mother moved to Tallinn from Narva. Shortly after the wedding Grandfather Itse-Shaye died. Then Grandmother Perle-Esse moved to Tallinn, where her children were living.

My parents rented an apartment on Suide Street. When I was born, our family moved to a four-room apartment in a two-story house on Kaupee Street in the center of Tallinn. Our family lived there until the outbreak of the Great Patriotic War 15. We left for evacuation from that house. I was born on 23rd February 1930. I was named Liya.

Father worked as a urologist. Mother was a housewife. It was not in connection with the fact that married Jewish women traditionally did not work, but took care of the house and children. At that time, young people did not adhere to that tradition. Many young women obtained higher education, got married and kept working. People with higher education were rather well-heeled and could afford maids, who took care of the household, and governesses for their children.

Mother was always rather feeble. In her adolescence she was afflicted with exophthalmic goiter. Soon her decease got so exacerbated, that mother was practically incapacitated. Of course she physically could not work. Mother was treated by renowned doctors. Father took her to spas in Italy, Switzerland, but there was no use in that. She felt a little better, but her decease was not cured.  

It is not known to me whether when being a student Father was a member of any Zionist organization, but he was a convinced Zionist 16. Father contributed money as an aid to Palestine, and in 1933, Father, the husband of his sister Berta, and his relative David Gofstein went to help build Palestine for three years. It was not a duty or an order. Father thought it was a matter of honor to help Palestine. Jews from all over the world built Tel Aviv. Father, Roubinovich and Gofstein also took part in its construction, though by that time they were good experts in their field and respectable married men.

We had a real Jewish house, though my parents were not as religious as my grandparents. Both my parents and their numerous siblings sacredly observed Jewish traditions. Kashrut was observed at home. There were separate utensils for meat and dairy dishes, Paschal dishes, which were used only in the Paschal period. It was kept in a special cupboard and it was taken out only on the eve of Pesach, when the house was thoroughly cleaned and every day dishes were put away before the end of Pesach.

At home dishes of Jewish cuisine were cooked. I do not remember everything, but there were gefilte fish and hamantashen. Of course Sabbath was observed at home, and Jewish holidays were celebrated. Though, Father could not help working on Saturday as people could get sick anytime. If he was called to see a patient on Saturday, he never refused. On holidays Father always went to the synagogue. We marked Jewish holidays at home in accordance with the rite. During holidays our family went to see my maternal grandmother.

I don’t remember if our family celebrated Estonian state holidays. The only thing I remember is that on Estonian Independence day the state flag was hung. I was born on 23rd February and the Independence Day was on 24th February, so I remembered it.

I had a nanny in early childhood, who spoke German, therefore the first words spoken by me were in German. In general, our family spoke several languages. Since childhood Father spoke Yiddish and German. Father was proficient in German as he had studied in Germany for several years. My parents spoke only Yiddish with each other and my grandmothers. Mother preferred Russian to German as she grew up in Belarus, then in Narva, and the latter bordered on Russia. The majority of the population there spoke Russian. Thus, I spoke German with Father, and Russian with Mother. I played with Estonian children in the yard, so I quickly picked up Estonian. My parents were also fluent in Estonian. It was natural for us. One could not live in the country without knowing its language. When I grew up, my nanny left her job and I was taught by a governess.

We had a large four-room apartment. Father made a lot of money, so we were well-off. Mother often went abroad with some of our relatives. My parents did not buy expensive furniture. There were not inclined to buy things, which were too conspicuous. In 1939 Father bought a car. At that time it was a rare thing, but he did it to please Mother. Besides, he had to visit patients at night at times, and so a car was very handy.

On weekends we went out of town and spent time on the coast and in the forest. It was safe to live in Tallinn. Life was calm. People could go out any time of the day, even in pitch dark night and there was nothing to fear. There were constables on duty for twenty-four hours. They were riding along the streets and made sure that there was order. People were different at that time. They used to respect people around them.

I loved reading since childhood. I learned how to read long before school, and was glued to books. I read in Estonian and Russian. My parents bought me books for children. In 1938 I went to a private Estonian lyceum. I did well. There were three Jewish girls in my class, including me. Teachers and students treated us well, and we did not feel ‘strange’ and ‘foreign.’ One of the girls in my class was shot by Germans in Tallinn in 1941, the other one is still alive. There were Jews Estonians, Russians among my lyceum friends.

By the way, when Mother finished lyceum she kept in touch with her friends from lyceum. They often came to see her in Tallinn. Her bosom friends were two Russian women, Zoya and Vera Luzhkova. My chum was an Estonian girl, who lived in our house. We went to and back home from the lyceum together.

I remember in 1940 Soviet troops entered Tallinn [see Occupation of the Baltic Republics] 17. There were tanks, trucks with soldiers and people on the curbs throwing flowers at them. It was peaceful. Maybe my parents discussed it, but not in my presence. They did not express things that children were not supposed to hear. It seems to me at that time adults did not discuss their matters in the presence of children. I had my own room and I spent my time there reading.

Father kept his previous job, and remained untouched. Our lyceum was renamed into school and we kept studying the way we did. Father’s brothers Solomon and Boris suffered. Solomon owned a store, and Boris ran Grandfather’s store after his death. He had worked there as an accountant when Grandfather was alive. Both stores were taken over and nationalized by the Soviet regime. First, commissars 18 were assigned to the stores, who watched the work process and got familiarized with the course of business. Then the owners were ousted.

Uncle Boris had other troubles beside that. On 14th June 1941, when the Soviet regime was involved with mass deportation of Estonian citizens 19, Boris and his family were deported. Boris was charged with being a bourgeois, an ‘enemy of the people’ 20, and sent to the Gulag 21, and his family was exiled to Kermez, Kirov oblast.

Hardly had we got over the shock in connection with the deportation of Uncle Boris’s family, another tribulation came on 22nd June 1941: we found out about the outbreak of the Great Patriotic War. Molotov 22 held a speech which was broadcast on the radio and informed that Germany had attacked Soviet Union without having declared war. The battles were held in frontier towns.

My parents were very worried. Father decided that all of us ought to get evacuated. Unfortunately, not all of our relatives were of that opinion. My maternal grandmother Gute-Mere was very sick and could not leave. Aunt Rosa, with whom Grandmother was living, could not let her stay alone. Rosa and her husband stayed in Tallinn, her daughters Natalia and Tamara were evacuated. Father’s brother Solomon, Mother’s elder brother Shmuel-Sakhne stayed in Tallinn, too. Both of their sons were drafted into the army. Solomon’s daughter Miriam was enrolled in the lines as a volunteer. Mother’s sister Sarah Auguston and her husband did not manage to get evacuated from Riga. Her son Isai was drafted into the army. The rest of our relatives were evacuated.

Unfortunately, many friends and pals of my parents stayed in Tallinn. People were daunted with deportation and feared the Soviet regime more than the fascists. Besides, the local population treated Germans as vernacular, as Germans always lived in Estonia. Nobody expected the Germans to do harm and exterminate Jews. Maybe some people were merely sluggish. It was easier not to take any actions, just stay than going towards uncertainty.

We were evacuated on 3rd July 1941. The husband of Father’s sister Sarah Klas was working for the militia and he had a permit to enter the territory of the Soviet Union, but it was not of great essence as the trains were ready to leave and those who wanted to go into evacuation, could get on them.

I vaguely remember our departure for evacuation. I remember vividly how we went across Narva Bridge. There was a raid of German aviation. The bridge was being bombed and we were scared. I was afraid that the bridge would explode when our train was to cross it. We were lucky to cross the bridge. Then there was a monotonous trip. We were on the road for a long time. There were occasional bombings. It took us a long time to get to the station Uvelka of Chelyabinsk oblast. We did not stay there for a long time. There was an evacuation point in Uvelka, wherefrom we were sent to Kopeysk, Chelyabinsk oblast [about 1500 km from Moscow].

We were housed in the barrack for evacuees in one room with Father’s sister Sarah Klas and her daughter Irene. Father was mobilized in the evacuation hospital, as he was a doctor. People who were severely wounded were brought from front-line hospitals in sanitary train and taken to the evacuation hospital. People who had light and medium injuries, were treated on spot, but those who had serious wounds and required complicated operations and long treatment were taken from the front line to evacuation hospitals. There was a hospital in Kopeysk, and Father could come home overnight. Mother could not work.

When schooling began, I went to the local school. I did not feel anti-Semitism there. I was treated in a good way. We took two suitcases of clothes with us. Almost all things were stolen from one of them, but still something was left. Mother took warm clothes for me. I went to school in a woolen skirt and shirt and I looked different than the local children. I was even teased ‘woolen factory.’ Locals were very poor and there was a vast difference in our outfits.

It was not the only difference between us. Our upbringing and mentality also differed. It was hard to get used to the fact that a person could promise something and not keep it without any serious grounds, but simply because of forgetting about his promise. We were taught since childhood that promises must be kept. People did not keep promises, but they were very kind. Russians are very good and sympathetic. They treated us very well and with empathy since we had to leave everything and flee from the Germans.

Of course, it was easier for our family as compared to others. We knew the language. It did not matter that we had an accent and did not speak clearly, but we could speak. It was probably easier for me than for my parents, as children easily adjust to new environment, and accept it right away. I became a pioneer 23 at school. I also took it naturally.

In spring and fall all school children were sent to the field during the season. It was new for me. I was not used to that. I saw what others were doing and copied them. I even liked physical work. In spring we planted cabbage seeds and weeded. Then we did harvesting. I remember how all of us were told to pick potatoes from the field. We were working all day long. My cousin Irene and I had to take the horse-drawn cart and take out potatoes from the field, filling that cart. I recall the steppe, night, gleaming spots of light. It came from the wolves. Their eyes were sparkling in the dark. We were frightened of course. My cousin ran to the village to ask for help, and I stayed with the horses by myself. I remember it as if it was yesterday. I was so scared! We were unscathed.

All of us received food cards 24. We could get bread, some cereal and a little bit of oil. In general, all evacuees were in the same boat. I cannot say that I was hungry. We understood that there was a war and everybody was destitute. It was shameful to complain of one’s life. We got by with the things we got on our cards.

Life was hard on my mother. She was unwell and she had to do work about the house. She had to bring water from the well, stoke the stove. At first we did not even know how to do that, but we were learning gradually. It appears to me there is no way out, you learn easily in necessity.

We were looking forward to come back home. We listened in rounds-up on the radio, read newspapers, hoped to get word of the liberation of Estonia. We wrote letters to Tallinn, Riga, and hoped that somebody would respond us. We did not know at that time, that the Germans murdered all Jews in Estonia, Latvia. They did not respond to us and we comforted ourselves with the idea that they might have moved to another place.

When the battles for liberation of Estonia started, we were waiting for daily messages on the course of battles and were happy to hear that the Estonian Corps 25 had fought back part of the Estonian land. My cousin Miriam was in the Estonian Corps. She went through entire war. Isai Rosenfeld, the son of mother’s sister Rahil was also in Estonian corps. The son of mother’s sister Sarah Auguston was in the lines of the Latvian division 26. We received their letters from the front.

The evacuees were rejoicing, when we heard that Estonia had been liberated from fascists it was like a holiday for the evacuees. Everybody congratulated each other, rejoiced thinking that soon we would have a chance to go back home. Father went to the Estonian representative office in Leningrad. Shortly upon his arrival, we started packing. All of us, who were evacuated from Estonia to Kopeysk, came back home on one train. My cousins, who were in the lines survived. They came back home. After war Isai Rosenfeld stayed in the army for a while. He was a military commandant in the German city Zwickau.

We came back to Tallinn, but it was not the place we saw when we were leaving. A lot of houses were destroyed and the shambles were still there. In 1944 the large Tallinn synagogue burned down during bombing. There was no light in the streets, and in the evening it was hard to walk around in the darkness. But all of us were at home, and that feeling could not be compared to anything.

Our house was not destroyed. We settled in our apartment, which was not occupied by anybody. Our relatives, who were coming back from evacuation, stayed in our place. Many of them had nowhere to go as either their apartments were destroyed or their houses were occupied by other citizens. There were a lot of people, but we did not feel any discomfort. We had lived in a wooden barrack for four years and were able to survive, what could we be talking now!

All of us, even I, a child, changed our views and we perceived things differently after evacuation. We were not obsessed by recollections of the good prewar times, we were just living. Food cards were used until 1947. We managed to get food somehow. Besides, there was a market, where we could buy some products. We were not picky. We were happy with what we had, and were not thinking of things we would like … Thank God we came back home safe and the most dreadful was behind.

In Tallinn we found out about the extermination of Jews in Estonia, concentration camps, executions in Tallinn prison. All our relatives, who were staying in Tallinn, perished. Grandmother Gute-Mere was shot. Aunt Rosa with her husband, Solomon with wife and mother’s elder brother Shmuel-Sakhne with wife.

We knew that Mother’s sister Sarah Auguston, who lived in Riga, and her husband did not manage to leave for evacuation on time. They happened to be in Riga ghetto 27. We could not get information on them, but we understood that they were not alive. Suddenly, we got a letter from Isai, Sarah’s son, where he said that Sarah was alive and had come back to Riga. Her husband was shot in Riga ghetto, but Sarah was sent to the Kaiserwald concentration camp 28, wherefrom she was sent to a concentration camp in Germany. She was liberated there by the troops of the allies. Sarah came back home. She walked across Germany, Poland, Lithuania and Latvia. She was the only one from our family, who managed to survive during the German occupation.

Then we found out more about the atrocities of the fascists. During the first postwar years in Tallinn there were actions taken. The graves of those who were executed in Klooga 29 and other concentration camps, were dug up and lists of those who perished in occupation were made.

After the war there were no Jewish schools in Tallinn. There were Russian and Estonian schools. Before the war I went to an Estonian lyceum. Since I went to Russian school in Ural, I went to Russian compulsory school in Tallinn. There were new subjects in school: history of the KPSS, history of the Soviet Union. I joined the Komsomol 30 at school. We had mandatory events: subbotniks 31, pioneer and Komsomol meetings. We did not think over it, there was no brainwashing in connection with the latter. We knew that we were supposed to do that.

Anti-Semitism appeared after war. Though, we personally did not feel it. We merely knew that there was a biased opinion against Jews. Our acquaintances told us about it.

In 1948 the state of Israel was founded 32. It was a great joy for all of us. My father, who had been involved in the construction of Tel Aviv for three years, was really happy for the Jews, who finally had their own land, their own country. At that time the Soviet regime treated Israel loyally, and as a matter of fact, the Soviet Union was the first country that facilitated the foundation of the state of Israel. In a while the attitude towards Israel drastically changed. At that time official mass media called Israel an aggressor and the Israeli army – the winner of the Six-Day War 33 and the Yom Kippur War 34 – bandits and occupants. We rejoiced in the victories of Israel, and its calamities were our calamities.

Father worked in the students’ policlinic of Tallinn Polytechnic University, first as a therapist and then as a member of the medical examination board. He retired at the age of 75. The nurses liked him very much. In general he was loved by the entire personnel of the hospital. He was a very good doctor and a very good man.

Father was not affected by the Doctors’ Plot’ 35, which commenced in January 1953. He kept on working and the patients made appointments with him beforehand. It was much easier in Estonia as compared to other parts of the Soviet Union. Local authorities were able to smooth over the situation. Everything was quiet. Though, there were rumors that the trains were ready for deportation of all Jews to Siberia. I think it was not just mere talking, as there is no smoke without fire.

We were lucky that Stalin died in March 1953 and life was calmer. It was the time when the Jews said: if someone was against our peoples, he would end in disgrace. Now I understood that Stalin’s death was for the better, but at that time I burst into tears and could not calm down. I was a student of the Riga Teachers’ Training Institute and came home on holidays. I was so befuddled with propaganda: ‘Stalin is the father of all peoples,’ ‘Stalin is our leader and teacher,’ that I sincerely believed in that. There was Stalin’s portrait in each classroom and a large Stalin bust in the assembly hall. All my postwar school years went by under Stalin’s portrait. I hung his portrait on the wall in my room at home. I remember Father looked at it ironically, but Stalin was an idol for us.

Of course, my parents perceived Stalin’s personality in a different way. Only once Father told me that one day I would understand who Stalin really was. My parents were very skeptical to my sobbing and lamentation in connections with Stalin’s death. I understood that Father was right only after Khrushchev’s speech 36 at the Twentieth Party Congress 37. I did not doubt his words. All of us saw how people were deported from Estonia on 14th June 1941 only for the reason that they achieved such a living wage owing to their intelligence and work. How could they be sent to the camp for that? They did not rob, plunder, they worked, and mostly several generations worked to provide welfare for the family.

Some of those who were exiled managed to come back home. But almost all of those who were in the camps perished. After the party congress it seemed to us that our life would be freer, and many of the artificial Soviet bans and restrictions would be abolished in our life. Soon, our illusions were dispersed. Anti-Semitism and our isolation from the rest of the world were still there. The only thing was there were no mass repressions.

My parents and our kin kept on observing Jewish traditions. At that time the Soviet regime began struggling against religion 38. We understood that Father should not go to the synagogue, but no regime could ban marking Jewish holidays at home!

My grandmother was the most ardent stickler for Jewish traditions in our family. All I know about Jewry is from her. She always made the family get together on Jewish holidays. Grandmother cooked Jewish dishes and did other things in accordance with the tradition. She even baked matzah and challot herself, if she could not buy them. All generation of our huge family got together– children, grandchildren. Now it seems a dream. I remember how all of us rejoiced in family reunions, celebration of the holidays. We came to see Grandmother on the day-off. We danced, sang, chatted. Grandmother was a pivot of our family, keeping all of us together. When Grandmother died in 1970, there were no family gatherings like when she was alive. Some of the people left, others died… Neither Epsteins nor Levins stayed.

I often recall Grandmother’s cozy apartment, full of my relatives, when I am passing by her house. Now that small two-story house is squeezed between new multi-story buildings. Probably it will be demolished soon and a new multi-story building will be constructed in its place. Once I could not help walking to the apartment where my grandmother used to live. There was some office there and I asked for permission to stay there for a little bit.

We did not mark Soviet holidays at home. Those, who were working, were to attend festive demonstrations on 1st May, 7th November 39 with their organization. For us Soviet holidays were ordinary days-off.

My father wanted me to become a doctor. He talked me into entering the Medical department of Tartu University when I finished school. I was always afraid of blood and the mere thought of it made me sick. Father persistently said that it was a trifle and I would get use to that. When I finished school, I firmly told my father that I would never become a doctor. I understood, if I stayed in Tallinn, Father would keep convincing me to study medicine. I had penchants for languages and I decided to enter the Philology Department.

At that time Jews from all over the Soviet Union came to enter Tartu University. It was easier for Jews to enter in Tartu than in any other city of the USSR – as there was no anti-Semitism at Tartu University. The only criteria considered were the results of exams. They did not try to cut Jews at the exams and were totally unbiased towards them. Even many professors came to Tartu from the Soviet Union. The entire pleiades of young scientists, who could find a job, came to Tartu and became professors at the university, scientists who were internationally recognized.

As a philologist I remember Yuri Lotman 40, who could not find a job in his native Leningrad. Not only Lotman benefited by accepting an offer from Tartu University, but the university as well. Tartu University offered job to a lot of people like Lotman, both mathematicians and physicians and other intellectual people. Of course, I ought to go to Tartu. Having felt no anti-Semitism in our postwar  Tallinn and having forgotten about my nationality, I went to Leningrad University. It was  a protest against father’s plans of making a doctor out of me. Of courses, I did not pass entrance exams in Leningrad. From there I left for Riga, where mother’s sister Sarah Auguston and her son Isai were living. I passed exams in Riga Teachers’ Training Institute, Philological Department. I was specialized in Russian language and philology. I lived with aunt Sarah. I did not feel anti-Semitism, when I was a student. Both teachers and students treated me loyally. My friends were Russians, Letts.

When I graduated from the institute I got a mandatory job assignment 41 to teach Russian language and literature at Tallinn Accounting College. Of course, I was happy to come back home. I worked in that college for several years, and it was closed down and all teachers were transferred to an Estonian compulsory school. Being a school teacher is hard even for those who like their profession. It was like an incessant horror for me. At college the students were more grown-up and they were aware that they ought to study. It was hard for me to work with schoolchildren. I came home emaciated and I had to check the papers and get ready for the next day’s classes. I spent more time on the discipline in the classroom than on teaching.

I worked at school for 14 years, and understood that I could not go on with that any more. I saw a job opening in Tallinn conservatoire. They needed a teacher of Russian language and literature. Eight people were applying for that position, but I was selected. I worked there for 21 years. My students were adults and they were willing to study and found the classes interesting. It made me happy and I tried finding challenging materials for my classes and got ready for each class as if it was an exam. The students loved me. Even now, when I see my students in the street, they are thanking me for my classes, which they were pleased with. Of course, I am happy to hear it.

When I was working at school, Father convinced me to finish the English Department of Tallinn Teachers’ Training Institute extramurally. I was angry and said that I was not willing to study. Father used to say, ‘Learn, while you are alive, then you will appreciate my words.’ It was hard to study, but now I am very happy that Father convinced me to study. If the language is not used, it is easy to forget it, but still my reading and listening comprehension skills are good and my speaking skills are basic. I regret not to have studied French with Father’s sister Sarah Klas, who studied at the Sorbonne and was proficient in French. Though, it was in my childhood, if I was more mature I would welcome such an opportunity. It is so good to know any language!

I did not join the Party. In spite of the fact of being a teacher, which was an ideological position, I could obviate it. The school’s political officer told me couple of times that I should join the Party since I was supposed to raise my students in accordance with the communist ideology. I used to say that the best of the best were supposed to be in the Party and I did not deserve it. Every time we talked about it, I would say that I was not ready. The political officer did not insist, just made suggestions. There was a more loyal attitude toward this issue in our republic as compared to other ones in the USSR.

In the late 1960s the Soviet regime permitted Jews to leave the USSR for permanent abode in Israel. Many of our relatives immigrated. The daughter of Father’s sister Berta Roubinovich is living in America. The twins Jenny and Doris, the daughters of Mother’s brother Haim Levin, immigrated to Israel. They are still living there with their families. The daughter of mother’s sister Rahil Rosenfeld Bella is residing in Israel. Their family is Orthodox. They have two sons and 15 grandchildren. Bella’s brother, Isai Rosenfeld, also lived Israel. He passed away in 1996.

My favorite cousin Isai Auguston and his wife are living in Cleveland, USA. Isai left Latvia, when it became independent [see Reestablishment of the Latvian Republic] 42. It was not their choice. Their children were leaving, and Isai with his wife did not want to part with them. Now Isai and his wife are living in the seniors’ community in Cleveland. Isai is nostalgic about his home, Riga. He often writes me in his letters: ‘Feel happy, that you never got to immigrate, have your own apartment, vernacular walls, chance to walk along native streets … You do not have a disease called nostalgia, for which there is no cure. Rejoice in every day you spend at home.’

At his age, it is hard to change your mode of life, you whereabouts. The older the man, the harder it is for him to find new friends and adapt to a new life style. Besides, Isai is a very active man, it is hard for him to loiter. He is a historian. He was a history teacher, one of the founders of the Jewish school in Riga. When he retired, Isai founded the Museum of Latvian Defense in Riga. He visited places, liberated by the Latvian division, gathered documents, photographs and it appealed to him. If he found things to do in Cleveland, he would not suffer from nostalgia.

My father was happy to have an opportunity to leave for Israel. He, a Zionist, thought Israel to be the symbol of revival of the Jewry, the dreamland. I was also willing to leave. Unfortunately, we could not do that because of Mother. She was very sick and the doctors prohibited her to change climate. There was no way we could leave Mother here.

We lived in our house on Kaupmei Street for 20 years, until 1975. Then it was made into an office and we were offered another apartment. We moved there with my parents. I have been living here by myself since my parents died. The house, where I spent my childhood, is still there. There were different offices in that house, even Sochnut 43. I often passed by it and could not believe it was for real. What happened, or had not happened. What is going on? I am looking at the windows and recall: this is my room, here is Father’s study. I spent my childhood here. We left that house for evacuation and came back here after the war. This house keeps the memories of my childhood, my young and happy parents. The past vanished into thin air. Life went by, but the house is still there.

A few of my cousins stayed in Tallinn. Both daughters of Rosa Klompus, Natalia and Tamara, died of cancer. The daughter of Moses Epstein, my father’s brother, Anna Exton, was a famous ballet-dancer in Estonia. Now she is the director of the Tallinn choreography school. The grandson of Father’s sister Sarah Klas, the son of Irene, Michael Belinson lives in Tallinn. He is the headmaster of our Jewish school. Irene’s brother Lazar died. My cousin Miriam Arounum, the daughter of Father’s brother Solomon lives in Tallinn. She is 86. Simon Levin, the son of mother’s elder brother Shmuel-Sakhne, who perished during occupation, followed in the footsteps of his father. His is a famous attorney in Estonia. His younger brother Alexander is a mathematics teacher.

In 1984 my mother passed away, and in a year Father died. Both of them were buried in Tallinn Jewish cemetery. I have a plot left for myself next to them. I even had the stone set up with my name, Liya Epshteyn. My date of birth is engraved already, and the date of my death will be when I die. 

In 1985 I turned 55. In accordance with the Soviet law women can retire at that age. They did not hold me up at work saying that there are a lot of unemployed young teachers. Of course, now I look at it differently, but I was really worried at that time. When my parents died, I was scared to stay alone in that empty apartment. I was offered a job as an assessor in the peoples’ court. I was not paid much, but it was OK combined with my pension. I worked there until the age of 65, as then I was not to resign in accordance with the legislation. People over 65 could work for the state.

In the period of independence of Estonia 44, all employees were supposed to know the state language, that is, Estonian. The employees at the court knew me very well and treated me fairly. They recommended me for a position of an Estonian teacher in the Tallinn municipal prison. I was supposed to teach the staff of the prison. Now this prison is a museum, but at that time it was a real prison, located in the old fortress. There was an air of despondence. I got unwell. When the doctors said that I had an oncological disease, I left work. Soon, my position was downsized.

I went to Israel in 1990. My aunt Rahil and her husband were still alive. Their family immigrated to Israel in the 1970s and we met after almost 20 years of separation. We were so happy to see each other. My cousin Bella and her sons invited me to come for a visit. I traveled all over the country and saw a lot. I was greatly impressed by Israel. This is a country, where each stone is breathing with history. I liked the people living there. They love their country and work on its thriving and fight for it! Let God send peace to this land, let there be no bloodshed and death of people.

I found out about my disease in 1998, and in 1999 I underwent a very serious operation. I feel fine, though I am living as if on a volcano, thinking what will happen next. I went through chemotherapy after the operation and it was hard on me. I was totally helpless, could not do anything. I was greatly assisted by the Jewish community of Estonia 45. The nurse came over, brought me products, cooked for me and cleaned the apartment. I would not have made it if not for the community. It took time for me to recuperate; I do not even want to recollect it.

In such a hard time for me I understood a very simple verity: there is nothing more important than life and we have to rejoice in every day we live. I was as if reborn after my operation and understood that there were truly important things to ponder over, without focusing on trifles. I knew I had to do my best to get better. Sometimes I hear the conversation of the ladies in the community and they make me laugh: Dear God, they are talking about the lunch served today!

Now I take thinks differently. When I was about to be operated, I was not sure if I would walk out the hospital. Now I look and feel better than most of my coevals, who consider themselves healthy. Your life makes you understand things. There are only two ways – keep to bed and tell oneself that life is over, or fight for one’s health. There are no relatives left. There is nobody to look after me. I do not want and I cannot be a burden for anyone. The medicine is expensive. It is hard to get to the doctors.

I try to be healthy myself. I strive to take walks more often, go to the community for physical training classes, swim in the sea until the temperature goes down to 13°С. When it gets colder, I do not feel like swimming, but I am forcing myself to. Every morning I pour cold water on me. It is hard for me to get used to that, and now I take such treatments not as a necessity, but as pleasure.

I try not to take pills, and if needed I take herbal treatment. I feel healthy and brisk. The only thing I understood that I should not make are long-term plans and worry about things which may take place in a year or two. One should live the present day, the present hour and find joy even in little godsends. There are enough joyful moments in our life, we just should strive to see them. We should learn how to rejoice in a sunny day, first spring flowers, red foliage in fall. We should love all surrounding us, and love ourselves, and only then we have the harmony, and no malady.

There was a period of time when I gave private classes in Estonian. My life was hard from a material standpoint, and that extra money was very handy. Now our government raised pensions and I decided to give up private lessons and live for myself. There was a time when I taught our rabbi Estonian. Now he has another teacher. The Jewish community helps me a lot. Once a week I get products. The community pays for my medical insurance. The Estonian government highly esteems the Jewish community and it is also respected by foreign sponsors. They take care of us, the elderly. I do not feel lonely owing to the community. I celebrate all Jewish holidays there. I feel that I am taken care of by the community and it is very important for a lonely person to know that someone remembers about you and cares.

Mr. Kofkin, a Jew from Tallinn, is helping our community a lot. He is currently residing in Switzerland. He established the fund of the Kofkin family. Thanks to that fund our community can help lonely elderly people and develop programs for young people. He is a very kind man. It is not enough to be rich, one should also know how to share his riches with those who were and are not as lucky in this life. Thanks to Kofkin our community will pay for a four-day trip in November of four lonely people to Toivo. I could never even dream of such a vacation. It is a very expensive resort. Last year we went to a trout place. It was a very scenic place in the forest. We were treated to trout there. These are the presents of our community.

When the Soviet Union broke up in 1991 I took it as conformity. In the West, the Soviet Union was called empire of wickedness and I agree with this definition. It seems to me that the process of the breakup of such a huge empire into independent countries could have been made in a gentler and less painful way to people. But it happened in such a way that all those processes impacted lives of many people and broke many people’s lives.

At any rate, things could have been less rough in such a small country as Estonia. It seems to me our government made a mistake in the first years of independence. When they came to power, the non-Estonian population in Estonia was more than a third, made up of those who came from the USSR. Many people settled in Estonia after war and many people came here in the 1980s in connection with the construction of the Olympic center in Tallinn. Most of those people did not even know that prior to 1940 Estonia was an independent state. In the euphoria of independence, people forgot about that mass of people. They were called occupants, immigrants and demanded that they should learn the state language –Estonian, or leave the country. I think our present problems stem from that approach.

It should have been explained to that mass of Russians that now it was an independent country, with Estonian being the state language and everything would be in that language, and give those people five years to study the language, let them work, study the language and take the exam in Estonian citizenship in five years. I think this approach to be right – even if a person does not know the language, he is a valuable asset, and why should the state lose that asset in the period of this person studying the language, if his knowledge and experience could be used for the benefit of the country. I think it is a constructive approach.

And what do we currently have? People who did not know the language were fired. Many people did not know the language, as Russian was the state language in the Soviet Union. People were at a loss, having no idea what to do. As a result, the best people, qualified experts, left the country as they there was a demand for them in other place. The country lost people, who might have done something precious for the country. Now they are thinking, started teaching the language to those who wish. There are state language courses, though they are very expensive. If a person passes exam, he is refunded half of the paid amount.

Of course, I disapprove of people who are living in the country without knowing its language at least on a day-to-day level, but still they should be given a chance to work and learn the language. That is why we have so many homeless people and vagrants. If a person lost his job, how would he pay for his apartment? So, he would lose it as well.

There is another example. The veterans of the Soviet Army, who liberated Estonia from fascists, are considered to be occupants. There is a monument in the center of Tallinn, devoted to a Soviet soldier/liberator. They are demanding to take it away, but those people did not spare their lives to oust the fascists from our land, and now they are blamed. Those things speak of the aggression on both sides. There is a reason for everything.

There are very few of us, indigenous Tallinn Jews. Even if we are not acquainted, we recognize and greet each other. They say that our Estonian Jews, and the Jews who came from the Soviet Union, are completely different in mentality, views and upbringing. Yes, we, local Jews, have different views on certain things, as compared to the Jews, who came from the Soviet Union, but there is no vast difference between us. It all depends on a person. We merely should know how to have a worthy and tactful demeanor, respect somebody else’s life, other people’s opinion and there would be no misconceptions. All of us are equal, all of us are Jews. We have to be one family. In good families people know how to get over misunderstandings peacefully, with love and respect for each other.

Glossary:

1 Cantonist

The cantonists were Jewish children who were conscripted to military institutions in tsarist Russia with the intention that the conditions in which they were placed would force them to adopt Christianity. Enlistment for the cantonist institutions  was most rigorously enforced in the first half of the 19th century. It was abolished in 1856 under Alexander II. Compulsory military service for Jews was introduced in 1827. Jews between the age of 12 and 25 could be drafted and those under 18 were placed in the cantonist units. The Jewish communal authorities were obliged to furnish a certain quota of army recruits. The high quota that was demanded, the severe service conditions, and the knowledge that the conscript would not observe Jewish religious laws and would be cut off from his family, made those liable for conscription try to evade it.. Thus, the communal leaders filled the quota from children of the poorest homes.

2 Nikolai’s army

Soldier of the tsarist army during the reign of Nicholas I when the draft lasted for 25 years.

3 Jewish Pale of Settlement

Certain provinces in the Russian Empire were designated for permanent Jewish residence and the Jewish population was only allowed to live in these areas. The Pale was first established by a decree by Catherine II in 1791. The regulation was in force until the Russian Revolution of 1917, although the limits of the Pale were modified several times. The Pale stretched from the Baltic Sea to the Black Sea, and 94% of the total Jewish population of Russia, almost 5 million people, lived there. The overwhelming majority of the Jews lived in the towns and shtetls of the Pale. Certain privileged groups of Jews, such as certain merchants, university graduates and craftsmen working in certain branches, were granted to live outside the borders of the Pale of Settlement permanently.

4 Common name

Russified or Russian first names used by Jews in everyday life and adopted in official documents. The Russification of first names was one of the manifestations of the assimilation of Russian Jews at the turn of the 19th and 20th century. In some cases only the spelling and pronunciation of Jewish names was russified (e.g. Isaac instead of Yitskhak; Boris instead of Borukh), while in other cases traditional Jewish names were replaced by similarly sounding Russian names (e.g. Eugenia instead of Ghita; Yury instead of Yuda). When state anti-Semitism intensified in the USSR at the end of the 1940s, most Jewish parents stopped giving their children traditional Jewish names to avoid discrimination.

5 Tallinn Synagogue

Built in 1883 and designed by architect Nikolai Tamm; burnt down completely in 1944.

6 Bolsheviks

Members of the movement led by Lenin. The name 'Bolshevik' was coined in 1903 and denoted the group that emerged in elections to the key bodies in the Social Democratic Party (SDPRR) considering itself in the majority (Rus. bolshynstvo) within the party. It dubbed its opponents the minority (Rus. menshynstvo, the Mensheviks). Until 1906 the two groups formed one party. The Bolsheviks first gained popularity and support in society during the 1905-07 Revolution. During the February Revolution in 1917 the Bolsheviks were initially in the opposition to the Menshevik and SR ('Sotsialrevolyutsionyery', Socialist Revolutionaries) delegates who controlled the Soviets (councils). When Lenin returned from emigration (16th April) they proclaimed his program of action (the April theses) and under the slogan 'All power to the Soviets' began to Bolshevize the Soviets and prepare for a proletariat revolution. Agitation proceeded on a vast scale, especially in the army. The Bolsheviks set about creating their own armed forces, the Red Guard. Having overthrown the Provisional Government, they created a government with the support of the II Congress of Soviets (the October Revolution), to which they admitted some left-wing SRs in order to gain the support of the peasantry. In 1952 the Bolshevik party was renamed the Communist Party of the Soviet Union.

7 White Guards

A counter-revolutionary gang led by General Denikin, famous for their brigandry and anti-Semitic acts all over Russia; legends were told of their cruelty. Few survived their pogroms.

8 Estonian War of Liberation (1918-1920)

The Estonian Republic fought on its own territory against Soviet Russia whose troops were advancing from the east. On Latvian territory the Estonian People's Army fought against the Baltic Landswer's army formed of German volunteers. The War of Liberation ended by the signing of the Tartu Peace Treaty on 2nd February 1920, when Soviet Russia recognized Estonia as an independent state.

9 First Estonian Republic

Until 1917 Estonia was part of the Russian Empire. Due to the revolutionary events in Russia, the political situation in Estonia was extremely unstable in 1917. Various political parties sprang up; the Bolshevik party was particularly strong. National forces became active, too. In February 1918, they succeeded in forming the provisional government of the First Estonian Republic, proclaiming Estonia an independent state on 24th February 1918.

10 Pogroms in Ukraine

In the 1920s there were many anti-Semitic gangs in Ukraine. They killed Jews and burnt their houses, they robbed their houses, raped women and killed children.

11 Five percent quota

In tsarist Russia the number of Jews in higher educational institutions could not exceed 5% of the total number of students.

12 Jewish Students’ corporations in Tartu

Although the Judaism Department of Tartu University was founded only in 1936, students of Jewish origin studied in Tartu University since the end of the 19th century, and they had their associations and corporations. The student’s money box was established in 1874, and in 1884 the academic society with the name of Akademischer Verein für jüdische Geschichte und Literatur (Jewish Academic Society of History and Literature). Jewish students formed the ‘Hacfiro’ society. There were two corporations: ‘Limuvia’ and ‘Hasmonea.’ The ‘Limuvia’ was a secular organization, and the ‘Hasmonea’ was Zionist oriented. Since there were relatively few numbers of Jewish students at the university, their organizations were small. In 1934 the Academic Society listed 10 members, the ‘Hacfiro’ – 20, ‘Limuvia’ – 43, and the ‘Hasmonea’ – 30 members. The societies owned large libraries: the ‘Limuvia’ had about 3,500, the ‘Hasmonea’ – 1,000, the Academic society 2,000, and the ‘Hacfiro’ had 300 volumes. Jewish students also had a cash box. This was the first Jewish students’ organization in Estonia. The purpose of the cash box was to support Jewish students from poor families. Wealthy Jewish families made annual contributions to the fund, and the board distributed the amounts among needy students. All those organizations were closed down with the outbreak of WWII.

13 Jewish Students’ Aid Fund

was founded in Tartu in 1875. It was the first Jewish Students’ Organization in Estonia. The aid fund was meant for Jewish students from poor families. Rich Jewish families made annually contributions into the aid fund and the donations were distributed between poor students by the board of the Students’ Aid Fund. In the 1930s the activity of the Aid Fund was highly appreciated by the rector of Tartu University.

14 Jewish Cultural Autonomy

Cultural autonomy, which was proclaimed in Estonia in 1926, allowing the Jewish community to promote national values (education, culture, religion).

15 Great Patriotic War

On 22nd June 1941 at 5 o'clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War. The German blitzkrieg, known as Operation Barbarossa, nearly succeeded in breaking the Soviet Union in the months that followed. Caught unprepared, the Soviet forces lost whole armies and vast quantities of equipment to the German onslaught in the first weeks of the war. By November 1941 the German army had seized the Ukrainian Republic, besieged Leningrad, the Soviet Union's second largest city, and threatened Moscow itself. The war ended for the Soviet Union on 9th May 1945.

16 Revisionist Zionism

The movement founded in 1925 and led by Vladimir Jabotinsky advocated the revision of the principles of Political Zionism developed by Theodor Herzl, the father of Zionism. The main goals of the Revisionists was to put pressure on Great Britain for a Jewish statehood on both banks of the Jordan River, a Jewish majority in Palestine, the reestablishment of the Jewish regiments, and military training for the youth. The Revisionist Zionists formed the core of what became the Herut (Freedom) Party after the Israeli independence. This party subsequently became the central component of the Likud Party, the largest right-wing Israeli party since the 1970s. 

17 Occupation of the Baltic Republics (Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania)

Although the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact regarded only Latvia and Estonia as parts of the Soviet sphere of influence in Eastern Europe, according to a supplementary protocol (signed in 28th September 1939) most of Lithuania was also transferred under the Soviets. The three states were forced to sign the 'Pact of Defense and Mutual Assistance' with the USSR allowing it to station troops in their territories. In June 1940 Moscow issued an ultimatum demanding the change of governments and the occupation of the Baltic Republics. The three states were incorporated into the Soviet Union as the Estonian, Latvian and Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republics.

18 Political officer

These "commissars," as they were first called, exercised specific official and unofficial control functions over their military command counterparts. The political officers also served to further Party interests with the masses of drafted soldiery of the USSR by indoctrination in Marxist-Leninism. The 'zampolit', or political officers, appeared at the regimental level in the army, as well as in the navy and air force, and at higher and lower levels, they had similar duties and functions. The chast (regiment) of the Soviet Army numbered 2000-3000 personnel, and was the lowest level of military command that doctrinally combined all arms (infantry, armor, artillery, and supporting services) and was capable of independent military missions. The regiment was commanded by a colonel, or lieutenant colonel, with a lieutenant or major as his zampolit, officially titled "deputy commander for political affairs."

19 Deportations from the Baltics (1940-1953)

After the Soviet Union occupied the three Baltic states (Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania) in June 1940 as a part of establishing the Soviet system, mass deportation of the local population began. The victims of these were mainly but not exclusively those unwanted by the regime: the local bourgeoisie and the previously politically active strata. Deportations to remote parts of the Soviet Union continued up until the death of Stalin. The first major wave of deportation took place between 11th and 14th June 1941, when 36,000, mostly politically active people were deported. Deportations were reintroduced after the Soviet Army recaptured the three countries from Nazi Germany in 1944. Partisan fights against the Soviet occupiers were going on all up to 1956, when the last squad was eliminated. Between June 1948 and January 1950, in accordance with a Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Council of the USSR under the pretext of 'grossly dodged from labor activity in the agricultural field and led anti-social and parasitic mode of life' from Latvia 52,541, from Lithuania 118,599 and from Estonai 32,450 people were deported. The total number of deportees from the three republics amounted to 203,590. Among them were entire Lithuanian families of different social strata (peasants, workers, intelligentsia), everybody who was able to reject or deemed capable to reject the regime. Most of the exiled died in the foreign land. Besides, about 100,000 people were killed in action and in fusillade for being members of partisan squads and some other 100,000 were sentenced to 25 years in camps.

20 Enemy of the people

Soviet official term; euphemism used for real or assumed political opposition.

21 Gulag

The Soviet system of forced labor camps in the remote regions of Siberia and the Far North, which was first established in 1919. However, it was not until the early 1930s that there was a significant number of inmates in the camps. By 1934 the Gulag, or the Main Directorate for Corrective Labor Camps, then under the Cheka's successor organization the NKVD, had several million inmates. The prisoners included murderers, thieves, and other common criminals, along with political and religious dissenters. The Gulag camps made significant contributions to the Soviet economy during the rule of Stalin. Conditions in the camps were extremely harsh. After Stalin died in 1953, the population of the camps was reduced significantly, and conditions for the inmates improved somewhat.

22 Molotov, V

P. (1890-1986): Statesman and member of the Communist Party leadership. From 1939, Minister of Foreign Affairs. On June 22, 1941 he announced the German attack on the USSR on the radio. He and Eden also worked out the percentages agreement after the war, about Soviet and western spheres of influence in the new Europe.

23 All-Union pioneer organization

A communist organization for teenagers between 10 and 15 years old (cf: boy-/ girlscouts in the US). The organization aimed at educating the young generation in accordance with the communist ideals, preparing pioneers to become members of the Komsomol and later the Communist Party. In the Soviet Union, all teenagers were pioneers.

24 Card system

The food card system regulating the distribution of food and industrial products was introduced in the USSR in 1929 due to extreme deficit of consumer goods and food. The system was cancelled in 1931. In 1941, food cards were reintroduced to keep records, distribute and regulate food supplies to the population. The card system covered main food products such as bread, meat, oil, sugar, salt, cereals, etc. The rations varied depending on which social group one belonged to, and what kind of work one did. Workers in the heavy industry and defense enterprises received a daily ration of 800 g (miners - 1 kg) of bread per person; workers in other industries 600 g. Non-manual workers received 400 or 500 g based on the significance of their enterprise, and children 400 g. However, the card system only covered industrial workers and residents of towns while villagers never had any provisions of this kind. The card system was cancelled in 1947.

25 Estonian Rifle Corps

Military unit established in late 1941 as a part of the Soviet Army. The Corps was made up of two rifle divisions. Those signed up for the Estonian Corps by military enlistment offices were ethnic Estonians regardless of their residence within the Soviet Union as well as men of call-up age residing in Estonia before the Soviet occupation (1940). The Corps took part in the bloody battle of Velikiye Luki (December 1942 - January 1943), where it suffered great losses and was sent to the back areas for re-formation and training. In the summer of 1944, the Corps took part in the liberation of Estonia and in March 1945 in the actions on Latvian territory. In 1946, the Corps was disbanded.

26 Latvian division

Latvian rifle division 201 was formed in August/September 1941. The formation started in the Gorohovetski camps in the vicinity of Gorky (present Nizhniy Novgorod), where most of evacuated Latvians were located. On 12th September 1941 the division soldiers took an oath. By early December 1941 the division consisted of 10,348 people, about 30% of them were Jews. 90% of the division commanders and officers were Latvian citizens. In early December 1941 units of the Latvian division were taken to the front. From 20th December 1941 till 14th January 1942, during the Soviet counterattack near Moscow the division took part in severe battles near Naro-Fominsk and Borovsk. The casualties constituted 55% of the staff, including 58% privates, 30% junior commanding officers. Total casualties constituted about 5700 people, including about 1060 Jews.

27 Riga ghetto

Established on 23rd August 1941, located in the suburb of Riga populated by poor Jews. About 13,000 people resided here before the occupation, and about 30,000 inmates were kept in the ghetto. On 31st November and 8th December 1941 most inmates were killed in the Rumbula forest. On 31st October 15,000 inmates were shot, on 8th December 10 000 inmates were killed. Only younger men were kept alive to do hard work. After the bigger part of the ghetto population was exterminated, a smaller ghetto was established in December 1941. The majority of inmates of this 'smaller ghetto' were Jews, brought from the Reich and Western Europe. On 2nd November 1943 the ghetto was closed. The survivors were taken to nearby concentration camps. In 1944 the remaining Jews were taken to Germany, where few of them survived.

28 Kaiserwald concentration camp

Kaiserwald was the old German name of the Mezapark area of Riga. In summer 1943 Himmler ordered to eliminate all camps in the east, exterminate all inmates who were unable to work, and take the rest to another concentration camp. In summer 1943 prisoners from Polish concentration camps started building the camps. The 'Riga-Kaiserwald' had 29 'Aussenlager' (sub-camps); the sorting out took place in the central camp. The male inmates who were able to work were sent to clear fields from mines. In August and September 1944, when the Soviet armies advanced to the Baltic countries, some inmates were sent to the Stutthof camp near Gdansk, and about 400 inmates were sent to Auschwitz. The rest were executed on 2nd October 1944 during elimination of the camp. From Stutthof the inmates were taken to various camps.  The ally armies rescued them from extermination. At the most 1 000 Latvian Jews taken to Germany lived till liberation. The total of 18,000 Jews were exterminated in Kaizerwald during the Great Patriotic War.

29 Klooga

Subcamp of the Vaivara camp in Estonia, set up in 1943 and one of the largest camps in the country. Most of the prisoners came from the Vilnius ghetto; they worked under extreme conditions. There were 3,000 to 5,000 inmates kept in the Klooga camp. It was eliminated together with all of its inmates in spring 1944, before the advance by the Soviet army.

30 Komsomol

Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.

31 Subbotnik (Russian for Saturday)

The practice of subbotniks, or 'Communist Saturdays', was introduced in the USSR in the 1920s. It meant unpaid voluntary work after regular working hours on Saturday.

32 Creation of the State of Israel

From 1917 Palestine was a British mandate. Also in 1917 the Balfour Declaration was published, which supported the idea of the creation of a Jewish homeland in Palestine. Throughout the interwar period, Jews were migrating to Palestine, which caused the conflict with the local Arabs to escalate. On the other hand, British restrictions on immigration sparked increasing opposition to the mandate powers. Immediately after World War II there were increasing numbers of terrorist attacks designed to force Britain to recognize the right of the Jews to their own state. These aspirations provoked the hostile reaction of the Palestinian Arabs and the Arab states. In February 1947 the British foreign minister Ernest Bevin ceded the Palestinian mandate to the UN, which took the decision to divide Palestine into a Jewish section and an Arab section and to create an independent Jewish state. On 14th May 1948 David Ben Gurion proclaimed the creation of the State of Israel. It was recognized immediately by the US and the USSR. On the following day the armies of Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Iraq, Syria and Lebanon attacked Israel, starting a war that continued, with intermissions, until the beginning of 1949 and ended in a truce.

33 Six-Day-War

(Hebrew: Milhemet Sheshet Hayamim), also known as the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, Six Days War, or June War, was fought between Israel and its Arab neighbors Egypt, Jordan, and Syria. It began when Israel launched a preemptive war on its Arab neighbors; by its end Israel controlled the Gaza Strip, the Sinai Peninsula, the West Bank, and the Golan Heights. The results of the war affect the geopolitics of the region to this day.

34 Yom Kippur War (1973 Arab-Israeli War)

(Hebrew: Milchemet Yom HaKipurim), also known as the October War, the 1973 Arab-Israeli War, and the Ramadan War, was fought from 6th October (the day of Yom Kippur) to 24th October 1973, between Israel and a coalition of Egypt and Syria. The war began when Egypt and Syria launched a surprise joint attack in the Sinai and Golan Heights, respectively, both of which had been captured by Israel during the Six-Day-War six years earlier. The war had far-reaching implications for many nations. The Arab world, which had been humiliated by the lopsided defeat of the Egyptian-Syrian-Jordanian alliance during the Six-Day-War, felt psychologically vindicated by its string of victories early in the conflict. This vindication, in many ways, cleared the way for the peace process which followed the war. The Camp David Accords, which came soon after, led to normalized relations between Egypt and Israel - the first time any Arab country had recognized the Israeli state. Egypt, which had already been drifting away from the Soviet Union, then left the Soviet sphere of influence almost entirely.

35 Doctors' Plot

The Doctors' Plot was an alleged conspiracy of a group of Moscow doctors to murder leading government and party officials. In January 1953, the Soviet press reported that nine doctors, six of whom were Jewish, had been arrested and confessed their guilt. As Stalin died in March 1953, the trial never took place. The official paper of the Party, the Pravda, later announced that the charges against the doctors were false and their confessions obtained by torture. This case was one of the worst anti-Semitic incidents during Stalin's reign. In his secret speech at the Twentieth Party Congress in 1956 Khrushchev stated that Stalin wanted to use the Plot to purge the top Soviet leadership.

36 Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971)

Soviet communist leader. After Stalin's death in 1953, he became first secretary of the Central Committee, in effect the head of the Communist Party of the USSR. In 1956, during the 20th Party Congress, Khrushchev took an unprecedented step and denounced Stalin and his methods. He was deposed as premier and party head in October 1964. In 1966 he was dropped from the Party's Central Committee.

37 Twentieth Party Congress

At the Twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956 Khrushchev publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what had happened in the USSR during Stalin's leadership.

38 Struggle against religion

The 1930s was a time of anti-religion struggle in the USSR. In those years it was not safe to go to synagogue or to church. Places of worship, statues of saints, etc. were removed; rabbis, Orthodox and Roman Catholic priests disappeared behind KGB walls.

39 October Revolution Day

October 25 (according to the old calendar), 1917 went down in history as victory day for the Great October Socialist Revolution in Russia. This is the most significant date in the history of the USSR. Today the anniversary is celebrated as 'Day of Accord and Reconciliation' on November 7.

40 Lotman, Yuri (1922-1993)

One of the greatest semioticians and literary scholars. In 1950 he received his degree from the Philology Department of Leningrad University but was unable to continue with his post-graduate studies as a result of the campaign against 'cosmopolitans' and the wave of anti-Semitism in the Soviet Union. Lotman managed to find a job in Tartu, Estonia. Starting in 1950, he taught Russian literature at Tartu University, and from 1960-77 he was the head of the Department of Russian Literature. He did active research work and is the author of over 800 books and academic articles on the history of Russian literature and public thought, on literary theory, on the history of Russian culture, and on semiotics. He was an elected member of the British Royal Society, Norwegian Royal Academy, and many other academic societies.

41 Mandatory job assignment in the USSR

Graduates of higher educational institutions had to complete a mandatory 2-year job assignment issued by the institution from which they graduated. After finishing this assignment young people were allowed to get employment at their discretion in any town or organization.

42 Reestablishment of the Latvian Republic

On 4th May 1990 the Supreme Soviet of the Latvian Soviet Republic accepted a declaration about the desire to restore the independence of Latvia, and a transition period to restoration of full independence was declared. The Soviet leadership in Moscow refused to acknowledge the independence of Lithuania and initiated an economic blockade on the country. At the referendum held on 3rd March 1991, over 90 percent of the participants voted for independence. On 21st August 1991 the parliament took a decision on complete restoration of the prewar statehood of Latvia. The western world finally recognized Lithuanian independence and so did the USSR on 24th August 1991. In September 1991 Lithuania joined the United Nations. Through the years of independence Latvia has implemented deep economic reforms, introduced its own currency (Lat) in 1993, completed privatization and restituted the property to its former owners. Economic growth constitutes 5-7% per year. Also, it has taken the course of escaping the influence of Russia and integration into European structures. In February 1993 Latvia introduced a visa procedure with Russia, and in 1995 the last units of the Russian army left the country. Since 2004 Latvia has been a member of NATO and the European Union.

43 Sochnut (Jewish Agency)

International NGO founded in 1929 with the aim of assisting and encouraging Jews throughout the world with the development and settlement of Israel. It played the main role in the relations between Palestine, then under British Mandate, the world Jewry and the Mandatory and other powers. In May 1948 the Sochnut relinquished many of its functions to the newly established government of Israel, but continued to be responsible for immigration, settlement, youth work, and other activities financed by voluntary Jewish contributions from abroad. Since the fall of the Iron Curtain in 1989, the Sochnut has facilitated the aliyah and absorption in Israel for over one million new immigrants.

44 Reestablishment of the Estonian Republic

According to the referendum conducted in the Baltic Republics in March 1991, 77.8 percent of participating Estonian residents supported the restoration of Estonian state independence. On 20th August 1991, at the time of the coup attempt in Moscow, the Estonian Republic's Supreme Council issued the Decree of Estonian Independence. On 6th September 1991, the USSR's State Council recognized full independence of Estonia, and the country was accepted into the UN on 17th September 1991.

45 Estonian Jewish Community

On 30th March 1988 in a meeting of Jews of Estonia, consisting of 100 people, convened by David Slomka, a resolution was made to establish the Community of Jewish Culture of Estonia (KJCE) and in May 1988 the community was registered in the Tallinn municipal Ispolkom. KJCE was the first independent Jewish cultural organization in the USSR to be officially registered by the Soviet authorities. In 1989 the first Ivrit courses started, although the study of Ivrit was equal to Zionist propaganda and considered to be anti-Soviet activity. Contacts with Jewish organizations of other countries were established. KJCE was part of the Peoples' Front of Estonia, struggling for an independent state. In December 1989 the first issue of the KJCE paper Kashachar (Dawn) was published in Estonian and Russian language. In 1991 the first radio program about Jewish culture and activities of KJCE, 'Sholem Aleichem,' was broadcast in Estonia. In 1991 the Jewish religious community and KJCE had a joined meeting, where it was decided to found the Jewish Community of Estonia.

Ferenc Szabados

Ferenc Szabados
Budapest
Hungary
Interviewer: Laszlo Banyai
Date of Interview: March 2004

The interview was conducted at the Szabados home in the eighth district of Budapest. Unusual for this district, Feri and his wife have a three-bedroom house with a courtyard. The house and yard has been owned by his wife’s family for many years. Before the war, the family lived from the production of pickled goods. Feri worked as a free-lance general tailor. Although he’s in his mid-eighties, his eyes are sharp and smiling. He is prepared to answer my questions, and is visibly excited to do so. He attends the Nagyfuvaros street temple with his grandson Robi. They always walk home, this is when Feri talks about the past, and Robi listens with interest.

My name is Ferenc Szabados and I was born in Ilk in 1920. Ilk was a pretty poor, backward village in Szabolcs. There couldn’t have been more than a thousand residents. Of these, fourteen or fifteen families there were Jewish. Some families, like ours, had a lot of children, but you might stumble on Jewish families without children, too. My guess would be that about fifty Jews lived in the village. The village Jews were very poor, there were even hoeing peasants [day laborers] among them. One or two families were merchants. But none of them got rich. Any one of their businesses might have fit into a plastic bag. Some eeked out a living door-to-door. They sold potatoes, or milk. And there were Jews who went from one village to the other. They sold lime, and onions. One came with a nag, one horse pulling a wagon, and he would yell, “Onions, lime!”. Anyway, they were very poor. The merchants, they sold everything. The horse dealers mocked the Jews, but there wasn’t much difference between the two.

There was a Jewish shoemaker family in the village, a carpenter and a spice merchant. There weren’t any other Jewish shoemakers in the village, but there were one or two Christian ones. But what was shoemaking? They didn’t make shoes, they only fixed them. Except for the occasional merchant shoemaker, who also sold them. The postman was Jewish, and when anti-Semitism flared up later, they took away his license and gave the postal rights to a Christian. The postman had to go to Vasarosnameny for the mail, and then sort through the letters. They didn’t let Jews buy the peasants’ produce and take them to market. They said, 'if a Hungarian toiled for it, a Jew shouldn’t profit from it.' The Jew had to take the produce to Pest and sell it at the daily price. He came back and handed out the money honestly. There wasn’t any friction, well, the occasional remark that somebody stole, somebody cheated me. But when the Christian took the produce to Pest, he didn’t come home until there wasn’t a penny left in his pocket, but literally, I’m telling you. He drank it, squandered the whole thing. Then the peasant got nothing for his pains, didn’t get any money. The pub owner was a Jew, but he never drank his profits. In 1939, they took his license away [anti-Jewish Laws]1. That put him out of business, because they took his livelihood away. There was only one pub in the village, though the spice merchant sold palinka [brandy]. The peasants often got drunk, the Jews, however, never drank.

The peasants harassed the Jews, the Jews harassed the peasants, but it never came to violence there. In spite of this, the relations between them weren’t bad, they weren’t poisoned. My father, for example, would come home from another village with material, to make clothes – he worked for another Jew. When the peasants came by in a wagon, they’d stop and ask why he’s walking, then pick him up. They brought him home, and didn’t pass him by. There were some who did, but that’s what he’d expected from them.

Relations with the peasants were normal. They gave us flour on Friday nights, and on the Sabbath they lit our fires. And they didn’t ask anything for it. The landowners had about 15-20 hold of land [one hold=0.52 hectares, or 1.42 english acres], their situation was fairly good. But the serfs, who had one or two hold, and rented from the landowners, their situation was pretty bleak. Poverty was high. They had to work for other people, so their family wouldn’t starve to death.

The simple peasants weren’t bad people. But the notaries and gentleman judges, the Vasarosnameny gentry were all anti-Semitic, each and every one. They demeaned us, and generally didn’t expedite the Jewish cases they were solicited to do. They wouldn’t grant a market license or refused them, until they could find out how long the person had been residing in Hungary. They collected as many taxes as a person could bear. Or I’ll tell you this one example: the schoolmaster wasn’t an anti-Semite. He’d come over to talk. My younger brother was a very good student. But it didn’t matter anyway, because he always just got a satisfactory grade. Compared to the Hungarian children, who were worse students, they still got better grades.

My father, Jozsef Schwartz built the only orthodox prayerhouse [bes medresh] in the village. He knew everyone, and everyone in the village knew him, but then he was born there in 1888. I don’t know anything about his parents. When he began building the prayerhouse, everybody contributed a little something, even the peasants helped him with this or that, or some came to work. My father was the voice of the Jews, that kind of a superior, without official status or title. There was no rabbi, cantor or kosher butcher in the village. Once a week, the butcher came from the neighbor village, Gyure, to do the kosher butchering. At the beginning of the 1930s, I don’t remember exactly when, but they killed the Gyure butcher. Supposedly, everyone knew who the killer was. But they never caught him. In his place, they took some big man. Once they attacked him on the road to Ilk. That’s when he took out the khalef [Hebrew: a ritual knife used by a shochet for the preparation of meat.], then told the chump to just come on, if he wants to fight. I don’t have to tell you, he bolted. The so-called wealthier Jews were the tailor, the shoemaker, the carpenter, the spice merchant and the horse dealer. The rest were very poor.

From my father’s side, my uncles, Herman, Samuel, Abris and Sandor left for America, because at that time there was incredible poverty in Hungary, especially in Szabolcs. This was before the First World War. They left in 1920, but two of them (Herman and Samuel) later returned, because they weren’t happy there either. They didn’t know the ways there, and didn’t learn the language. Here they somehow made it by, although they were very poor. Both died before the war. Samuel had five children, but only one of them returned. Ida, Jozsef, Pepi and Rozsa didn’t come back [from Auschwitz]. Ignac survived and then died in Budapest in 1998. Herman had six children. Izodor, Simon and Sandor emigrated to America in 1945. Jeno went to Israel, and died there in 2003. Eva and Karola were deported and never came back. The other two (Abris and Sandor) stayed in America, so I’ve lost touch with them. Sandor had a lot of children, but we don’t know anything about them. My father’s two sisters lived in Pirics, a nearby village. Amalia Schwartz married Hermann, who died before the war. I don’t know what happened to Amalia. They had three children. Regina and her husband fled with their son to the Soviet Union, they were in a Gulag for five years, where her husband died. After the war, they came back and settled in Hungary. Miklos didn’t come back [from the war]. He had eight kids, only Arpad survived. He settled in Israel under the name Chaim. In 1928, Jozsef settled in France. His children, Rudi and Edit, are still living there today. I keep in touch with them. I don’t even know the name of my father’s other sister. She was also deported, with her husband, and her daughter, Rozsa. They never came back.

My mother was Karolina Unger. She was born in a village near Ilk called Lovopetri. Likewise, I know nothing about her parents, only that grandmother was called Bejle. I do know about one of my mother’s brothers, Vilmos Unger, who was also born in Lovopetri, in 1889. He married and had two daughters. I don’t know what became of them, if I recall correctly, they were deported to Vienna in 1939.

I don’t know how my parents met, nor when their wedding was. I was born in 1920. As for my siblings, Jeno was born in 1907, Erno was born in 1910, while my little brother Bela saw the world for the first time in 1922. My older sister, Berta was born in 1915, my younger sister Eva, in 1927. Eva was probably seventeen when she and my mother ended up in Auschwitz. Berta didn’t learn a profession, she helped around the house until she got married in the second half of the 1930s, also to a Samuel Schwartz (A very common name then), with whom she moved to Tiszaszalka. If I remember correctly, her husband was a merchant. They had two children, one of which was named Gabor. The other boy’s name I don’t recall.

My father didn’t dress in traditional clothes, but he always wore a kippah or a hat. I remember they made a photograph of him, and he was bare-headed in the picture. It annoyed him so much, that he drew a hat on his head. My father was a talker, but he wasn’t soft-spoken. He had a commanding demeanor. He had authority, because he whatever he said, he never changed his mind. The community respected him. It’s not surprising then, that he built the village’s only prayerhouse. My father was never political. He fought through the First World War in the Royal Hungarian Army 2, and was even held in Italian detention [Italian front] 3.

My father worked as a tailor, and this insured him a fairly narrow means for us. Mother directed the household. We had a cow and about 50-60 geese, but we didn’t make money from them. We ate them. My mother stuffed a goose for four weeks, and the liver swelled so much from that, that the neighbors came to gawk. My mother would have the kosher butcher slaughter one or two a week. My parents spoke Jewish [sic – Yiddish] with one another. We also understood what they said. If there were Christians in our company, they would flip over to Hungarian, because they didn’t want people to think they were saying something bad about them.

The house we lived in had a room and a kitchen. There wasn’t a bathroom, nor pipes or running water. We heated with an iron stove, for the Sabbath and weekend, we’d fire the oven, too. Wagons were seen here and there, don’t even mention automobiles. Our village was such a small place that it didn’t even have a market. Residents just exchanged whatever goods they could with each other.

We lived in Ilk at home according to orthodox rules. Our small community came to the prayerhouse my father built not just on weekends, but during the week, too. The Sabbath was celebrated strictly. Even though my father was a heavy smoker, he never took his tobacco out on the Sabbath. He liked the holidays, when you were allowed to smoke. It somehow connected to a good general atmosphere. My mother kept a kosher household. She cooked before the Sabbath. There would be a delicious chulent bubbling in the oven. We had a Shabesgoy, a shikse who lit the fire in the oven on the Sabbath. Her father was a wealthy peasant who supplied us with flour. We baked delicious ‘barkhes’ for him in the oven. That was his price. My bar mitzvah was in Ilk. That was the first time I put on a tefillin. I still know how you have to put it on your head below where the hair grows.

The four years of school in Ilk, I attended at the Calvinist school. There wasn’t a Jewish cheder in the village, surely because there weren’t enough Jewish children for one. We studied together with the peasant children. They learned the Calvinist catechism, but, honestly speaking, it only got through their heads really slowly. The truth is, we learned it faster than they did, and we weren’t even required to learn it. We even went to church sometimes, for fun. We even joined the choir. We got along well with the minister there. If there was going to be a wedding, that meant a lot of fun for all of us.

We went to Vasarosnameny to the Civil [school] 4. I moved there for that period. I went to a Calvinist school there. Strangely, I never experienced anti-Semitism in school. I even got along well with the teacher who came from Transylvania and was a ‘turulos’ [from turul bird –mythical eagle of ancient Hungarian folklore; used as a symbol by extremist Hungarian nationalists]. When my mother came to Nameny [Vasarosnameny], the teacher even complimented me, and said I had a big future to look forward to. What kind of future was possible for a Jew then?! We celebrated Miklos Horthy’s birthday 5, and mourned Trianon 6, but I don’t recall any other special political demonstrations.

Nameny was a lot bigger place than Ilk, almost a city. They had a number of prayerhouses, for there were 180 Jewish families living there. There wasn’t one neolog 7 among them, but there were some who were more religious than most. They dispersed to temples all over, according to their liking or their acquaintances. I remember there was a house of prayer for young people. The community in Vasarosnameny was serious. With kosher butchers, rabbis, jeshivas and mainly – why we went there – with cheders. We woke up at half past five in the morning, we prayed, and then started our studies. By eight we were already sitting in the Calvinist school, and in the afternoon we were learning in the cheder again. The Jewish community there supported us. They placed us at a merchant’s house, I slept there, but I ate somewhere else everyday. They organized who would have lunch for the Jewish kids from Ilk. We studied the Tora and Talmud in the afternoon, so we would progress in Judaism, too. I went home from Vasarosnameny every two weeks. We were so poor that I had to walk. I would have some fun by driving a wagon wheel in front of me with a stick the whole way. On the Sabbath, Jews who knew a little more about Judaism would come into the city and ask us questions. Every week they tested us.

I could have gone for more than three grades, since I won a scholarship on the basis of my good scholastic results. My father couldn’t even pay the reduced tuition. That’s how I ended up a tailor. I had apprenticed the tailor profession in Nameny. My older brother, Jeno also went to school in Vasarosnameny, and learned tailoring and sewing. All three of them made that same trip that I had. They learned their father’s profession as apprentices in Vasarosnameny. Jeno went up to Pest in 1930, and opened a tailor’s workshop on Baross street. Though, nobody ever left Ilk until then. Ilk was a village left behind, and they cursed him for leaving it. He was the family benefactor. He was a clever man. It went well for him, and pretty soon he sent money back home to us. When Erno and I finished our apprentice years, there was money for a ticket waiting for us at the post office. We all joined him and worked together as brothers. We sent money home every month, so our parents and sisters wouldn’t lack for anything. I joined my two older brothers in Pest in 1937. I was astonished when I saw my brothers eating treyf. Both changed their names from Schwartz to Szabados, Jeno in 1936, Erno in 1937.

I made primarily Jewish friends in Ilk and Nameny. When I suddenly found myself in Pest, we had Christian friends, too. We didn’t keep kosher. Mother wasn’t there to watch us. Until I went to forced labor in 1941, we regularly went on excursions, to the cinema, and to dance classes. Although most of our friends were Jews, we also made friends with Christians. It wasn’t a reason to exclude someone, because we saw everyone for the person they were. If they were respectable, we were made friends with them.

I wasn’t able to get accustomed to my new profession, because I was called up into workservice [labor battalions]8 on October 13, 1941, into the V/2 company, to Hodmezovasarhely. We got soldier’s uniforms, but they soon stuck a yellow armband on us, to differentiate that we were Jews, not fully-privileged Hungarian citizens. They took the uniform off of us later, at the request of headquarters. Then everybody was in civilian clothes. They left us the hat, but there was a national colored button on it, which they took off it, so we wouldn’t desecrate the Hungarian national colors. [The national guard ministry decreed in March of 1942 that the Jewish workservice should wear their own civilian clothes, and should sew a yellow armband on them, but in a lot of the groups the uniform had already been taken away by the end of 1941. Until the spring of 1942, there wasn’t general proscription of the yellow armband, but depending on the commander, this was also widespread.] I was put in the dispensary, in the sewing workshop. From that time, in November of 1941, they then took me to Korosmezo, in the Ukraine [this belonged to Hungary at that time]9 where we built tank traps and bridges. In the fall of 1942, (probably in September) we returned to Hodmezovasarhely. From then on, we were put to work in various parts of the country all the way up to September of 1944. We were in Orgovany, Pahi, and Csengodo, where they made us build military training areas. In the beginning of 1944, we went to Szeged. When the Russian groups reached the city [Budapest] in September 1944, they (the Hungarians) marched us through Sandorfalva, Baja, Mohacs and Pecs all the way to Kormend. From Kormend in the beginning of October 1944, they deported us to Eberau, Austria. I was in the Libenau camp in Graz, from where they took me in April 1945 to Hitzendorf, and then in May of 1945, at the end of the war, I was liberated.

I had made friends with a girl named Annus Ehrlich in Hodmezovasarhely. Before she was deported, she gave me a few pages of a prayerbook and asked me to pray for her, too. She also wanted to give me a jewelbox, but I didn’t have the heart to accept it. She said, if she doesn’t return, then I could have it. I knew that, the constables 10 would take it from her the first chance they had, but still I couldn’t accept it. I still don’t know what happened to her.

There was a band of fascists living in Hodmezovasarhely. They wrote in newspaper articles that we didn’t work. We just hang around and molest Hungarian girls. They connected us to everything. The city had already emptied out so much, only a few of us remained with our yellow bands. They called us into the Brigade commander and said that we shouldn’t listen to the lieutenant colonel’s words. Don’t do anything for him, work for him, because we’ll be immediately on the front. Hardly two days passed before the lieutenant colonel called us in to sew a suit for his son. Well, now what do we do? We couldn’t say no. On top of that, next to our quarters was a house where Jews were living, and they had been taken away the night before. We sewed his son the suit that night. If we didn’t sew that suit, they really would have sent us to the front. The commander said we should sew a suit for his son, because he also 'did for us'. That was all he let us know, that thanks to him we weren’t taken away, too. Now where was this great friendship coming from? He once asked me where I was from? I told him Szabolcs, and he also came from there. That word was enough for him to not have me taken to the front.

They took us to work in Orgovany, Pahi and Csengod. These are villages around Kecskemet. In these places, we built traps and trenches so tanks couldn’t get through. We built the obstacle out of wood and covered it in dirt. The forest was 15-20 kilometers away, and from there we brought the trees for the work. The whole thing was 2-3 meters high. Later in Germany, we did the same thing. Five in the morning we woke up, we got a little black water instead of coffee. We went there on foot. There they put a tree on each shoulder of two men, long trees, and those we had to carry to the location. There and back was a day’s work. We tried not to take the biggest trees but the smaller ones, there were young guys there. One of the sergeants took notice: "You want to take a little twig, a little branch?" He put such a big beam on us that we did ourselves in. We got back at twelve that night. We layed down, but at dawn we had to get up again and fetch more trees. We also had to transplant sod. We extracted the sod, so that we also took five centimeters of earth. We had to cut them into squares, which the grass held together. We placed these in rows next to each other. The commander counted to see how much each person did per day. If we didn’t do our daily amount, he would start to 'pony' us, that is, after work he would exercise us. Run, push-ups, squat thrusts and the like. Our tongues would hang out after he drove us like that.

At the start of 1944, we went to Szeged to the battalion headquarters. We spent four months in Szeged. Three Jews, and a company of Christians. Soldiers guarded us. They chose people from the three companies, to take to the front. Sometimes they’d say, "Everybody starting from the letter 'k' goes". Those who were picked out went to Hodmezovasarhely and from there they were taken to the front. A couple months later they took another group like that. I was always left behind, but then there was hardly a full company left, so they filled up the ranks with younger people. And a company went here, and again another company wanted to go, but then they said that those who want to go, can go and those who want to stay, stay. I did everything to avoid going. As a matter of fact, it’s because we had a very decent commander, a captain. Everybody wanted to go with him. If you’re going to have to go anyway, then at least go with a decent man. They went and the poor fellows never came back. The captain would return with a role call of who died where.

In Szeged, we worked and had boarding. Four of us worked in a tailoring workshop. There was a holiday, I don’t remember which, probably Easter or whatever, and then they said they’d give us leave, but somebody has to stay to tailor, so not everyone could leave. A boy and I both wanted to go first, and we argued over it. I had a buddy who said it was impossible to decide, because we both wanted to go home. I was pleading that my mother was home alone. We drew straws and I won. I went home for a week, then came back. When I saw my mother for the last time, I couldn’t tear myself away from her. She held onto me so tight, I couldn’t get away from her. We never met again. We felt somewhere unconsciously, that this was the last time we’d see each other.

My mother was still at home at the start of 1944. I went home, before I got back, the other boy had already gone, so we missed each other. I got an order to appear before Master Sergeant Szilagyi. I had to go back to Hodmezovasarhely. I didn’t really want to leave. I begged them not to take me. But no, I had to go. I continued fixing cast-off clothes. You have to know that the Master Sergeant was the world’s most evil scoundrel. An anti-Semite, and a horribly bad man. He wasn’t just evil with Jews, but with his family also, everybody. You could say he was a murderer. I didn’t want to go work for him. So I appeared before him. He really chewed me out. He called me all kinds of names and berated me. We started working there for this sergeant. He started to warm up to us. We were stationed in Hodmezovasarhely, but he lived in Szeged. Once he ordered me to take his bags out to the station. The others were already saying I was in his good books. If somebody asks me for something, I must be in their good books. I’ll just tell you that I once was sent to Szeged to shovel snow. We lived in terrible conditions and we were fed, but he didn’t let me go back to Hodmezovasarhely, where they might take me away. That was a really big thing for him to do. Well, how it happened was, I had to go to the commander’s for something. He sent me away to report to the lieutenant for something. He practiced with me for a half day on how to report and show respect, what and how to speak to him.

We tailors, shoemakers, carpenters worked for the Armored Division, and went wherever the battalion went. It was a military supply unit, which kept the equipment and uniforms in order. We sewed uniforms, and the shoemakers fixed boots. It’s enough to say that a traincar full of flour came for the Jews and the soldiers guarding us. The car arrived, and we had to carry the sacks up to the attic, and into the storage rooms. One time rice came, and we had to carry that up to an attic where there were no steps, just a ladder leaned against the wall. By the time we got that weight up those steps?! The sacks had no place to grab them, and the ladder was shaking under us. I picked up a sack of rice. It was terribly heavy, not like flour or corn. We had to carry them so the mouth of the sack was up, so the rice wouldn’t fall out the back, but I forgot about that during the heavy work. I pick one up, but the mouth was downward. As I went up the ladder, I could barely make it, my back almost broke, when the tied side of the sack opened and the rice fell out. Whoa, I was scared! The sergeant said to me, you stupid Jew, we told you to hold the sacks with the mouths up. He whipped my legs with a lash whip. He beat me because the rice fell out of the sack. His name was Janos Ebner. He was a vice-company commander. He fell into Russian captivity quickly. But he was lucky, and got into a good place. He knew Russian and they made him an interpreter. When they interrogated prisoners, he interpreted. I recognized him, and told the Russians how he had treated the Jews. They immediately took him out and separated him from the others. When they interrogated him, there was a Russian soldier standing next to him. He suddenly grabbed the soldier’s pistol and shot himself in the head.

One of the company commanders was an awkward, cock-eyed little insignificant man. We were in Szeged and I escaped one night. It was after curfew, we’d gone to bed, the roll call was read. Ten men were missing out of two hundred. He was so deaf, he didn’t even hear who was present and who wasn’t. My little brother came to Szeged to visit me, and laid down in my place. And he reported present a number of times. They mocked him.[the commander] When they were going to transfer him, we had a party, and then he told us what we had done to him. He knew about everything, that we went missing, and he didn’t do anything about it. It was decent of him.

So then we had to get ready to go to Bor 11. Bor was in Yugoslavia, and we heard a lot of bad things about it, I don’t have to tell you how we fell apart. We asked ourselves, "what is going to happen to us". It was bad news. They had only let us go home once from forced labor, at the beginning of 1944. We kept in touch by letter. Only once I telegrammed home to I ask them to bring my clothes to Hodmezovasarhely. Bring my boots, and whatever. I knew that the group going to Bor left on Tuesday by boat. They took them by boat on the Tisza, then over to the Danube. Master Sergeant Szilagyi called me over to him, and of course, for the first time inspected how well I could show respect. A true scoundrel. He says to me, if the company starts to leave I should just sew something for him onto his uniform. Don’t put any decorations on it, just sew the star onto it. That’s when it hit me. That’s how he arranged that I don’t have to go with the company to Bor, just because I’m also, as he put it, ‘a potato-munching Szabolcser’. I then had to telegram home again: don’t bring me clothes.

There were thirty of us, who didn’t go, who were entrusted with something to do. Well, then they came back saying, two people were missing from the transport. They took two more, but then five more went missing. I was really scared that my time was soon up. He ordered the other [tailor] boy and I to take inventory of everything in our quarters, while the company is withdrawing. "Determine how many windows are broken, what are the damages." When the battalion had gone, there were only seven of us. Of the seven five were rich enough, to pay off the good Lord [sic], not to take them. Us two tailors, me and my friend, who later settled in Australia, who didn’t pay off anybody, because we didn’t have a penny. It turned out later, that Szilagyi had a lieutenant captain-in-command, who was an even bigger scoundrel than he was. But in the house where he lived, there also lived a divorced Jewish woman, and the lieutenant had fallen in love with her. He fell totally under her influence, and even became friends with a Jew. The company withdrew under his command, and because of his Jewish girlfriend, they had it relatively good, despite the fact that they were sent to Bor. All the way up to the time that he was discharged because of it. In his place, came a lieutenant named Daranyi. He was such a murderer, that after the war, he was executed.

The Russians broke through in Hodmezovasarhely. Between it and Szeged, there’s a bridge. They took us across the bridge, on which bombs were hanging, we barely made it across when they blew up the Szeged Tiszabridge at Algyo. Then we went to a village, Sandorfalva. While we were there, they took us to dig trenches here and there. I don’t even know which villages we worked in, we were even in Szabadka [Subotica, Yugoslavia].

They took us to Kormend[Austrian border town] toward the end of 1944. There were a lot of Schwabians [ethnic Germans in Hungary] living there, with swastikas hanging off the houses. They were Volksbund. They took us to a two-story house, stripped us, and we had to sign a paper saying we were healthy, and there was nothing wrong with us. When we came downstairs, there were soldiers with bayonetted rifles on the steps. As we came down, they beat us, bing-bang, all the way down to the ground floor. I was beaten, but was also lucky. They didn’t hit my head, only my shoulder, and fortunately, at least it wasn’t broken.

It was the winter of 1944. It snowed, and there wasn’t a roof on the building. They locked us into a place. There wasn’t a roof and we almost froze. Then they took us to Kormend, to an underground bunker. There was a stable above us, and we had to go deep underground. You had the feeling you were entering a mausoleum. It was a mausoleum. It was full of Jewish boys. The guards tried to convince us to give them our luggage. The clothes, the good ones, we should give to the poor boys, because they’ll take them anyway. "Prayerbooks you should throw away", they said. "Hide them so nobody finds them". Someone among us, found their younger brother’s name carved in the wall. The guards wanted to take our money, too. They said, they’d be good to us, if we give them all our money. They were all villians. They only wanted money. There was a lot of despair.

So first they took us from Kormend to Austria by train. We got off at a station. A train came from the other direction and brought us all kinds of good food and gave it to us. They were German soldiers, those Hitler Youth. Twelve year olds, but all carrying guns. They heckled the Hungarians, a pox on them, but great that they brought us, they’ve got great things waiting for us to do. Yes, but they took us off the train at a station where there were loads of Jews all together – here was a row, and another here, and head high, so many. They were all dead. Then we fell apart, we thought we were dead. They took us to work in a little village called Eberau, near the border. Technical troops watched us, not military SS. In Eberau, the Jews built tank and armor traps. So if the Russians come with tanks, they’ll meet a big wall, and won’t be able to pass. The residents weren’t bad. They cooked for us there. We went for dinner, or some slop to eat. Then I hear a quiet thin voice say, "Is there by chance any person here named Feri Schwartz?".

He was an unfortunate, fragile little religious Jew, who was always praying. The poor guy was sitting in a ditch, I remember. He had come back from Bor. We were together in the forced labor, only he was taken to Bor, and I wasn’t. He was a young man from Szeged, Gyuri [Gyorgy] Reiter was his name, a lawyer. I also remember when he saw me he started crying. He said, "you, Feri, were always lucky, you didn’t have to come to Bor". And he also said, "if I’m with you, I’m sure to survive". Later he got lice. He was itching everywhere, and covered in bites. He scratched himself to pieces, he itched so badly. We were housed in a school, where Germans came. A one-armed German officer was in charge. They told us the sick would be taken to a place where Jewish doctors would take care of them. We were happy for them. Some among us were already getting weak, they couldn’t handle the rigors. They were taken the next day. My buddy reported in sick. Some guys going to work had seen, from a distance, that they were making the sick dig their own graves, then shooting them in the head.

All of a sudden, they blew the warning siren, that we had to pack immediately. They took us to the road leading West, thousands of people, but they didn’t take us on the highway. We left the village, then had to strike out up a mountainside. We went across this mountain for a day, and got down the other side, so we wouldn’t have to go through other villages. It seems they didn’t want us to be seen there. And they drove us, they killed them. When they took us towards the west, there was a camp. They wanted to bring us there. But the camp was temporary, they’d killed everybody there. By the time we arrived, the camp was empty. So then we went the whole way through the villages after all. There were SS-workers everywhere, they pushed us forward, further. Those who had taken us to the lager, suddenly just disappeared. At this time, the Germans were fleeing, they left in their horrible tanks, they were in trouble. They [the other prisoners] waited for the Russians to arrive. Many thought that the Russians liked the Jews. But they were taken prisoner.

We moved on. We slept in forests. We ate dead horses, anything digestible. We reported in at a lager on the road, in Libenau, next to Graz. We said we were Hungarians, and had come as work relief, and we’d like to work. We didn’t give away that we were Jews. The SS commander there – thank God – forbid us to work. He said Hungarians were not allowed to enter because there were typhoid-infected Jews inside. He sent us further on. We were very happy, because we had made it past the most dangerous point. We saw from outside that the boys inside were those who we’d left earlier. So we moved on, more precisely we were driven on. There were killers in every village who, to our luck, didn’t stop us, just let us pass.

One of the Germans was a commander, some assigned commander. Not SS, they’d just conscripted him, and put him with the Jews. You could talk to him. He told us the situation was dangerous. He let us know that he didn’t know what will become of us. He also told us not to go to him, because if they see him talking to us, they’ll immediately transfer him, and we’ll get a killer instead. We did our best to avoid him. That commander had some kind of plant, furniture factory in Hitzendorf, fifteen kilometers from his house. A boy from Mako knew where this village was, where the commander lived. When we arrived in Hitzendorf, this Hungarian soldier went to him, looked for him, and told him we were here. The Arrow Cross there, that is, the SS harassed him about where his Jews are. They put you with the Jews – they told him – so where are the Jews? Well, I don’t know what he told them, what lie he said. He put us in his factory. We slept in the plant, but didn’t work, there wasn’t anything to do. But he took us to work from there, and the SS from Graz would come and ask “who are they?”. He didn’t tell them we were Jews. “They say they’re work relief from Hungary, very good workers and good German friends.” So the SS would leave.

But the Germans were already falling apart. I saw some German soldiers playing around when another armed gang appeared, and they shot them. At the end, the situation was completely chaotic, they were escaping in any direction, it didn’t matter which. I was liberated, and neither the Germans, nor the English appeared, but we saw the Russians leaving. They never came into the factory, we never went out. We dragged on that way, there were about eighty of us. When it happened, then all the leaders, mayors – who knows what status these officials had – came from the surrounding villages to this wood factory. They thought that if they were with the Jews, nothing bad could happen to them. Thanks to that, the Russians took them and the Jews prisoner. They didn’t look at who was Jewish, who wasn’t. We were so happy, nothing mattered, "Come on over!". And then we were liberated, we were in the factory for about ten days.

The Russians robbed us of everything they could. They took my boots off my feet. I had a friend with me, who recently died in Szeged. He had a watch. We thought we could sell it to the Russians, and buy train tickets to go home. But in the chaos, when the Russians saw the watch, they automatically just took it. We didn’t care about anything anymore. Just let somebody come, and let this be over.

I’ll tell you how we got home. It wasn’t simple. In May of 1945, fifteen of us started for home. We had to go through Graz. We met Russian infantry. They were such simple people. They surrounded us, stuck us in with the other prisoners, and they wanted to take us in. There were a few Jews among the Ruskies [derogatory term for the Russians in Hungarian], one of which was an officer, though he was Jewish. And a high-ranking one. We went over to him. We explained that we are Jews, and the Russians want to take us prisoner. In that crowd, who knew who was Jewish or not, and then again who cared. The Jewish officer came over, took sixteen of us, and put us in a schoolhouse. He told us not to leave here because we’ll be taken, and never get back home. While we stood there, waiting, we got very hungry, and decided to leave anyway. That’s when the Russian accepted us, and we got out to the train station. There were French, English, German and all [nationality of] Jews there. They gathered everybody, and took us to the station in Graz, because the railway had been blown up earlier, and we had to put it back together. The Russians themselves even worked there, like workhorses. When we fixed the platforms, a train came and everyone got on. The Yugoslavs, the Czechs, the Poles were let go. When they found out we were Hungarian Jews they took us prisoner. They gave us a piece of bread. Eat, then let’s go. They took us into Graz, the Russians made us carry a piano, so they could ship it home by train to Russia.

At night, at the station, when the railway was fixed, which had to be fixed, a train came. Whoever could, jumped on it. They said the train was going to Szombathely. But we couldn’t tell anyone we were Hungarian Jews then either, because they would have taken us prisoner. We went past a lager. It spread out as far as you could see, full of prisoners. If they dump us in there with all them, nobody will get us out! We got across the Hungarian border. On every traincar, there was a Czech or Serbian flag. We stuck a Jewish star on ours – we had no idea of how anti-Semitic the Russians were, too. The residents told us not to leave because the Russians will take us to peel potatoes, don’t go home. The Russians were already in Hungary, so the war must be over. The Russians deluged the country, there were so many of them. So we got on a train, and arrived at Keleti Station [Eastern Railway Station] that night. It wasn’t possible to leave, because of the curfew. The city was full of Russians everywhere, so we slept on our rags, and waited for morning. One of us always stood guard, so the Russians wouldn’t kill us. In the morning, I went home to the workshop, and the Koszoru street apartment, where we had been renting. But I didn’t find anyone there. I didn’t know much about the family. I had seen how they took the Jews to Hodmezovasarhely, but I didn’t know more than that. I think my older sister had written a letter [in 1944], that she knew nothing about our mother. By the time I answered her letter, they had already taken her to the ghetto in Mateszalka, then to Beregszasz with the two little children. I went back to my hometown, to Ilk, because my little brother Bela was living there before forced labor. I found Bela in Ilk. They told him that I had been executed somewhere. We were very happy to see each other alive. A few people didn’t give back what they stole from the house. There were one or two, who were decent enough to give me back my clothes. These people, if they’d come from Pest, always slept at our house and always brought a fat goose. They were benevolent people. I went with Bela to Pest. We got together a sack of bacon, and sold it in Pest. I didn’t have a dirty penny. My brother Bela and I set about getting some work. I remember, we had one pair of trousers between us.

Our sisters, Eva and Berta didn’t return. Berta died with her two children in the concentration camp, in Auschwitz, but her husband Samuel came back from forced labor. As I understand it, he was sent to the Russian front but somehow fought his way home. He went out to Israel in 1957, where he remarried and had four children with his new wife. That’s all of their story, I don’t know anything more about them. Erno and Jeno were called up to workservice in Esztergom in 1942. From there, they went to Vac, then Budapest. They were taken away to Austria from there. Jeno was spiritually the stronger one, and Erno was thankful to him that he survived the forced labor. They were liberated in Mauthausen. Erno would have died for sure without Jeno. When he had to, he carried Erno on his back, stole food for him, and kept his spirits up. I know this because Erno succeeded in struggling home. Jeno was shot in Austria by a drunken Russian soldier. My older brother wasn’t the only victim. Erno died without a descendant. We bid farewell to my little brother Bela five years ago. His two sons are still living. I said the kaddish for a year for him, and since then I’m going to synagogue again. My mother was taken from home to Auschwitz. She never returned. But nobody from our village returned except us. Except for my two brothers, and two cousins also survived. My two older cousins went back to the village, to Ilk, and lived there until 1956, when the villagers threatened their lives. They started abusing them, which had only been a rare thing earlier on. One went to Canada, the other to Israel in December of 1956, while it was possible to leave the country.

We were in our twenties, and hadn’t been able to work yet, when they took us into forced labor. We had just begun our careers, and we had to go to forced labor. When I realized that one of my older brothers and my younger brother were still alive, we thought we should start something together. Erno and Bela and I started working in Pest. Jeno had been a well-known tailor in the area before the war. If I went somewhere, I would say I’m Jeno’s brother, and I’d get credit everywhere, anything. That’s how we struggled through, I’m not saying we got rich, but we did a lot, and whatever we had to, all the way to the end.

The workshop was a tailor shop on Baross street, where my brother and I, together with Erno continued working. I never became political. I didn’t join the Party, despite the fact that the Communists liberated us. There were party meetings, but I never participated, because I was working with my two brothers. Erno had a small business license. I was registered as an employee of his. Two or three years after the war, between 1947 and 1949, they searched our place. They said we were bourgeois, really, and they wanted to take our courtyard. They wanted to nationalize our house, but we were able to sue for it back. So they came in, and they wanted to occupy the apartment, and everything. They claimed we were rich. In the workshop, they were making a big deal out of what kind of beautiful shoes we had on. Imagine how beautiful shoes are on a person’s feet, if he’s naked!

In my twenties, I had been there for four years. Then it seemed like such a tiny event, and I had forgotten what I’d learned. But the kind of work I did and where, wasn’t really a problem. We were our own bosses, and didn’t have to make concessions to a higher-up. But because we were self-employed, and Jews, and private people, they put such a tax on us that we couldn’t make a living, nor earn even one percent of what they took in taxes. That’s how they wanted to force us into the union. If I had joined the union they would have relieved the taxes. They even said, join the union and then we’ll drop them. You see, we had to face them down because we didn’t want to join. In those little factories, there were little workers, but they weren’t truly tradesmen. But if there was a party member among them, he was made the boss. Unfortunately, my little brother Bela had to go work for them, because the danger of them nationalizing our place was threatening. The poor guy found work in the ‘Majus 1 Ruhagyar’ [May 1st Clothes Factory], and was very bitter about working. He had to work at night, and two or three shifts. He went in at ten in the evening, came home in the morning, like somebody who was drunk. "Join the party, we’ll make you a boss, immediately", they told him. He couldn’t do it, not even for the couple of pennies more. He just worked in the factory the whole time.

We slackened off on religious things from when we got back. The problem wasn’t how we were going to keep our religion, but rather, what are we were going to eat tomorrow, and what rags I could put on. I came home in shorts, and I didn’t have anything. I took a little work when I got home, and started to shape up. I had no scissors, to cut the pants with. There was high inflation then. There was a time when there were millions [bank notes in the millions]. My blinds broke in the workshop, I called a workman, the millions weren’t enough for the job. I couldn’t get used to it. On the border, when I was on my way home, I got a thousand pengo [Hungarian currency at the time], I thought I was a millionaire. You know what I got for a thousand pengo? By the time I got to Pest [Budapest], the inflation was so bad, it wasn’t worth anything.

The Horthy regime ended. The Communists never talked about anti-Semitism. During the Communist period, not one word was said about what happened to the Jews. They didn’t talk about it, but the Rakosi people [Rakosi regime] 12 were big scoundrels too. Gero and the other Jews [Rakosi, Gero and many of the communist leaders in Hungary were of Jewish origin.], they just didn’t notice that they were Jews, too. Still we were always scared that they might re-locate us. There was a time when they told us, my wife and I, to move out of our home. We moved quickly, because if they’d found us there, they would have taken us in, too. That was life. Those who came home, a lot of them were put out of their homes, and relocated. But during Communism there was never a word about what they did with the Jews. Today, a lot of them deny it. They say: it wasn’t true.

I never liked Party members, nor the whole party thing. Many who came home in 1945, didn’t find any family waiting. Well, the most natural thing was to get pulled toward the AVO [AVH] 13. They went to the Communists, not the Arrow Cross Party. They couldn’t understand, that for us it doesn’t matter what comes next, just let this [the persecutions] go away. I had a friend, Tibi, who said he lived off the Party, so he could get these killers back. He screwed a lot out them of their jobs. He lived for it.

When Israel was forming, I’d say that was among one of the greatest pleasures I’ve had. First the election [UN vote]. We didn’t sleep nights, we were up, waiting for the results. I could get [Radio] Israel and [Radio] Free Europe 14 in Hungarian. In the Hungarian news, the Arabs always won. [In 1967, the Soviet Union together with Soviet controlled Eastern Europe broke diplomatic relations with Israel. Earlier the Soviets were also in favor of the creation and support of the Jewish state with the hope to incorporate it into the communist world. Mr. Szamosi most probably refers to the post 1967 period when the Hungarian media was openly hostile towards Israel.] So then we heard about how rotten it was that they [the Israelis] were holding a million Egyptian soldiers prisoner, didn’t give them water. Luckily Nasser died. They shot his successor, Sadat because he made peace with Israel and visited Jerusalem. In 1946, a Palestinian killed the king of Jordan. How is it possible that a new generation grew up, and then another, and they still want to squeeze Israel out of there? They even took from what Hitler said about the Jews. If there had been no Holocaust, Israel would not have been born. The Holocaust contributed a big part in the birth of Israel. They wouldn’t have voted for it in the U.N. [suppose the Holocaust had not happened].

My wife’s father, Sandor Miklos, took this name in 1930. Before that his name was Weisz. He worked in the Ganz Mavag [major firm of heavy industry in Budapest] as head accountant, but in 1920 they fired him because he was Jewish . He couldn’t find a position, so he started a canning business. With my wife’s mother, Antonia Rakosi, they produced cabbage-cucumber-squash preserves and lived from that. At the beginning of the war, they lived in a star house 15. My father-in-law hid in the cellar. My mother-in-law had Aryan [sic - falsified] documents. There were really poor people living in this house. Before the war, they’d come over to my wife’s place, my mother-in-law would give them free pickled vegetables. How many of those were Arrow Cross 16 sympathizers! Constables lived in the school across the street. They wore police clothes and deported the Jews of Pest, and took the Jews away to work. And these constables came over, they had their wash done here, got manicures and everything, because they exploited the Jewish house, and could get everything cheaply. They even said they’d take my wife away, so there would be one more pillow for them. The Jews weren’t allowed to open their windows. The neighbors reported my wife for having her windows open.

My father-in-law was taken with the Jewish men on November 15, 1944. They took them to the area around Ferihegy, to Szentimre, to shoot them in the head. But he was lucky. He had been delivering goods to the butcher shops. Around Christmas, he’d always given the butcher boys cologne – and some present, pickles – so they might package their meat better. One of the butchers was also a high-ranking Arrow Cross, and he took my father-in-law off to the side. That’s how he got away. The rest were taken to Kiserdo [little forest] and shot to death. They organized mass-murders there, but I never heard anything about it, or that somebody had found mass graves. My father-in-law hid in the forest till the end of the war.

I met my wife, Gabriella Miklos, who was born in Budapest in 1928, in May of 1945, not long after we’d returned home. I had a relative in a neighboring house. Since I was totally alone, I went to see her, and as I was on the way up, I met her. That’s how we met. We were already engaged when her father died, and were married one or two months later. Our marriage was just a civil one, we didn’t make a big thing of it. We didn’t have a religious ceremony, because we would have had to wait until the mourning period was over. It wasn’t proper, and we were too scared, also.

It was unconditionally important that my wife be Jewish. First we had a girl, but she died at birth. Our second daughter, Zsuzsi was born in 1955 in Pest. She went here to the Dugonics street elementary school. There wasn’t any Jewish instruction, but she heard about religious things at home. In spite of the fact, that we didn’t keep too religious a household. Sometimes we’d light candles for the Sabbath, but not too often. We mostly celebrated just the bigger holidays, instead. We didn’t keep a kosher house, and still don’t. I went to temple during Pesach, the tent holiday[sic-Sukkot] and Yom Kippur. During Pesach, for example, I bought matzah, but we ate bread, too. We deliberately didn’t have Christmas, we were at least that Jewish.

Our house looks the same as it did then. It was always two and a half bedrooms. We had to rearrange it, so there wouldn’t be a third bedroom, because then there was another problem, they’d nationalize it. Some order came out, that for a certain amount of residents only a certain number of rooms could be in the family name. Those who had apartments bigger than the ordinance, moved to smaller apartments. My mother-in-law still lived with us then. The house here in the eighth district [of Budapest] was hers. A detached house with a courtyard. After the war, we worked a lot. We saved everything we could. Then later things got going, and I could even buy a car. But that was a lot later, I bought a Wartburg [East German brand] in 1965-66. There wasn’t a choice then; you could choose between a Wartburg or a Trabant [another brand of the same company]. At that time, you didn’t just have the money and go buy it – you paid for it, then waited for years until your name came up on the list. After that, we took the car out for excursions. We saw almost every part of this country. Wherever you could go, we went. Gasoline wasn’t expensive, three forints a liter. We even took a trip to the beach 200 kilometers away. Then we went to Vienna – when you were allowed to go out once every three years – and then to the West. We got fifty dollars [hard currency allotment], and we went to France. [The rest of the money had to be illegally smuggled out of Hungary.] We’ve traveled through France three times. But aside from that, we’ve been to Italy, and a little in Yugoslavia.

I had a constant relationship with my French cousin. My father’s sister, Amalia had a son, Jozsef who settled in France in 1928. France was in a terrible state after the war, and this cousin Rudi [Jozsef’s son] and his younger sister were just children, one was sixteen , the other thirteen. Their father sent them here in 1947 for three months, and we fostered them here. Rudi lives in Lyon. He visits us once a year, and we visited him three times. We write letters every week. Sometimes, we even call.

Once we went to Israel in 1990. As soon as the connections opened up more [1989 Political Changes in Hungary] 17, we went. Our relatives live there, my cousin’s son. He was a small boy when he left, we were young, too. We couldn’t make contact with the Israelis for a while. It wasn’t recommended to write to Israel. People were busy with defense. Mirjam’s family in Israel told us that it was very hard for them to get to the country. They could only get there illegally through Vienna then Italy. They arrived in 1948, when the U.N. voted for independence. In the beginning, they loaded the ships in the Haifa harbor. They didn’t get anything for it, just enough to eat. They lived near Latrun, where the Arabs were always shelling. We’ve been writing since 1990, but up to then we had no contact.

At the time, I thought about it, that we should make aliyah, but my wife’s father died in 1949. Her mother was alone, and we didn’t want to leave her by herself. When we brought the subject up, my mother-in-law was distraught that we might leave her alone. Long after, I understand her better than at the time. The same thing happened when this book came out, or some ad, that said you could go to America, or emigrate to Canada. Zsuzsi, our daughter had finished school. She had already married Gabor. And Zsuzsi read about this grant program, and she had everything. College graduate, multi-lingual, she was the right age, and she had two children. She fit perfectly, and when she would just start to talk about it, how good it would be to apply, I literally got sick.

I didn’t have a lot of friends. The friends I had were Jews. But they died early and young. I was with one of them, Miklos Kadar, in the forced labor, but he also died. Another boy I was with there, is still living. He built a very big carrier in Australia. Sanyi was a tailor and lived from that. In the beginning, he was poor but then he got rich. Even though he didn’t have more than two years of secondary school, he made these investments which made him rich. He invested, bought houses and sold them. He told me about it when he was here. I got a phone call from him, that I should look him up in the hotel on the island [Margit island in the Danube, between Buda and Pest], because he brought me something. He gave me 50 or 100 dollars. In fact, when Zsuzsi got married he sent 50 dollars. He was a very clever man. As a tailor, he was exceptionally clever. Besides that, he was so physically strong that in forced labor, he could have wrestled and thrown to the ground any of the Hungarian soldiers. In the division, only two tailors remained alive. Me and him. There was a tiremaking workshop there, where they made car tires. You had to lift it with one hand; of the 400 Hungarian soldiers, nobody could lift it except him. Once two killer constables, took him away just as we were leaving the Jewish temple. When they let him out, we couldn’t recognize him from his face. They beat him so badly, that we only recognized his voice. And all he said was be glad it wasn’t any of you, because you wouldn’t have survived it. And he was right, we really wouldn’t have survived that.

Our daughter, Zsuzsi, attended the College of Foreign Trade. She learned two languages. She has an advanced accreditation in Russian and English. Zsuzsi married a Jew. Her husband, Gabor Gemesi finished college. He studied vehicle electricity [in Hungary, auto mechanics are seperated into three vocations. One for body work, one for engine work, and one for electricity]. He works here in the courtyard, he opened a workshop here. He’s a tradesman and an entrepreneur. Zsuzsi usually comes to temple [synagogue] with me. It’s the most natural thing for her to come to temple with us, despite the fact that we didn’t really teach her religion. She heard us talk about this and that at home, but we never explicitly taught her religion. She must have heard something from my older and younger brothers. It was also natural for her to marry a Jew. Zsuzsi has also been to England. One of her colleagues emigrated, and she went to visit them for three weeks. When she was in England, Zsuzsi encountered problems, because her hosts were very religious. She had to learn that you wash meat and milk dishes seperately. Later the bank [where she works] sent her again, at their expense, for three months. The bank paid for her training.

We have two grandchildren. Eszter is seventeen, while Robi is eighteen years old. They attend the Lauder Javne School [Jewish school]. They’re good students and good kids. Religion is a big part of their lives. Robi is always hiding in Moses’ five books. He won two Bible competitions, and even went to Israel for a competition. Only once, we didn’t let him go. We didn’t want him to go because there was bombing going on. The relatives there even wrote that it would be better if he didn’t go then. He went once, and the other time, he didn’t. He always placed in the Judaism competitions, first or second. Of course, he brought every prize home from school, that he could. He really likes religion. Now he’s counting the letters in the Tora. He bought a book, “The Biblical Code”. He’s always busy with that.

When Communism fell in 1989, that did not touch us really. I had already retired by 1980, though I did work afterwards. If socialism hadn’t failed, then we’d be much farther along. And I dare say, that Hungarians are good workers. There was never a better time in my life than that time. You could vacation for pennies. My wife worked as a typist and shorthand secretary in the Ministry of Finance. It wasn’t a lot of status, but it was good work and sufficient money came out of it. We went on vacation with our relatives from France for a summer. With the four relatives and the four of us, we still only paid pennies. We could sit down in elegant places numerous times. So, life was good for a worker. After 1956 [revolution] 18, they even left us, the self-employed, alone. After 1956, you didn’t have to be afraid if you were a private businessman or self-employed. After 1956, the situation changed. It was a pretty good life. These people are lying about everything, which wasn’t true then.

I go to Nagyfuvaros street to pray. If I don’t show up, they call here and ask where I am. Unfortunately, it’s primarily the elderly who go there. There is the occasional young person. Back then, Tamas Raj was our rabbi, a dynamic but not a zealous man. He started up really dealing with the kids and young people in the area. I pay a tax to the religious community, ten or fifteen thousand forints, but I don’t use the services. What I give, I give to the temple. Back then, in the village, everybody went to temple. It was an exceptional event, if someone didn’t. Due to the war, that’s relaxed a bit. Poverty also plays in this. It wasn’t considered valorous in Communism to be a Jew. To write to Israelis was outright dangerous. You could only send a letter indirectly, that’s how the communists discriminated against Jews. Now at least, you are free to talk.

Today, I go to temple almost everyday, but that’s only been since my older brother died five years ago. I said the kaddish for him for an entire year. There are Jews from the Carpathian Basin at this temple. I know that they’re religious Jews and temple-going Jews, they are even prayer leaders. But when they come out of the temple, they get on the tram and go home [meaning Saturday] That’s the situation. My sister-in-law comes from a very religious family. She lights candles on Friday. Now I light candles, that is, my wife Gabi [Gabriella] does. But that’s due to the grandchildren. My grandchild was very little, barely five or six years old, when I started going to temple again, and my grandchild came with me.

Reparations got me terribly agitated. I always told my wife, they can leave me alone, I don’t want them, I don’t want to profit from that. I just received a half million [forints, about six months average salary] because of my parents. There’s no way I’ll buy myself even another crumb with that! It gets me so upset. And now that I’m older, even more so. I gave it to the children, instead.

GLOSSARY

1 Anti-Jewish laws in Hungary

Following similar legislation in Nazi Germany, Hungary enacted three Jewish laws in 1938, 1939 and 1941. The first law restricted the number of Jews in industrial and commercial enterprises, banks and in certain occupations, such as legal, medical and engineering professions, and journalism to 20 percent of the total number. This law defined Jews on the basis of their religion, so those who converted before the short-lived Hungarian Soviet Republic in 1919, as well as those who fought in World War I, and their widows and orphans were exempted from the law. The second Jewish law introduced further restrictions, limiting the number of Jews in the above fields to 6 percent, prohibiting the employment of Jews completely in certain professions such as high school and university teaching, civil and municipal services, etc. It also forbade Jews to buy or sell land and so forth. This law already defined Jews on more racial grounds in that it regarded baptized children that had at least one non-converted Jewish parent as Jewish. The third Jewish law prohibited intermarriage between Jews and non-Jews, and defined anyone who had at least one Jewish grandparent as Jewish.

2 Military in the Austro-Hungarian Empire

  From the Compromise of 1867, the armies of the Empire (Kaiser und Kundlich Armee - the Imperial And Royal Army), were subordinated to the common Minstry of War. The two parts of the country had separate armies: Austria had the Landwehr (Imperial Army) and Hungary had the National Guard (Hungarian Royal National Guard). Many political conflicts arose during this period of ‘dualism’, concerning mutual payment and control of these armies, even to the degree that officers were required to command in the language of the majority of his troops.

3 Italian front, 1915-1918

Also known as Isonzo front. Isonzo (Soca) is an alpine river today in Slovenia, which ran parallel with the pre-World War I Austro-Hungarian and Italian border. During World War I, Italy was primarily interested in capturing the ethnic Italian parts of Austria-Hungary (Triest, Fiume, Istria and some of the islands) as well as the Adriatic litoral. The Italian army tried to enter Austria-Hungary via the Isonzo river, but the Austro-Hungarian army was dug in alongside the river. After 18 months of continous fighting without any territorial gain, the Austro-Hungarian army finally suceeded to enter Italian territory in October 1917.

4 Civil school

This type of school was created in 1868. Originally it was intended to be a secondary school, but in its finally established format, it did not provide a secondary level education with graduation (maturity examination). Pupils attended it for four years after finishing elementary school. As opposed to classical secondary school, the emphasis in the civil school was on modern and practical subjects (e.g. modern languages, accounting, economics). While the secondary school prepared children to enter university, the civil school provided its graduates with the type of knowledge which helped them find a job in offices, banks, as clerks, accountants, secretaries, or to manage their own business or shop.

5 Horthy, Miklos (1868-1957)

Regent of Hungary from 1920 to 1944. Relying on the conservative plutocrats and the great landowners and Christian middle classes, he maintained a right-wing regime in interwar Hungary. In foreign policy, he tried to attain the revision of the Trianon Peace Treaty ‑ on the basis of which two thirds of Hungary’s territory was seceded after WWI – which led to Hungary entering WWII as an ally of Germany and Italy. When the Germans occupied Hungary in March 1944, Horthy was forced to appoint as Prime Minister the former ambassador of Hungary in Berlin, who organized the deportations of Hungarian Jews. On 15th October 1944 Horthy announced on the radio that he would ask the Allied Powers for truce. The leader of the extreme right-wing fascist Arrow Cross Party, Ferenc Szalasi, supported by the German army, took over power. Horthy was detained in Germany and was later liberated by American troops. He moved to Portugal in 1949 and died there in 1957.

6 Trianon Peace Treaty

Trianon is a palace in Versailles where, as part of the Paris Peace Conference, the peace treaty was signed with Hungary on 4th June 1920. It was the official end of World War I for the countries concerned. The Trianon Peace Treaty validated the annexation of huge parts of pre-war Hungary by the states of Austria (the province of Burgenland) and Romania (Transylvania, and parts of Eastern Hungary). The northern part of pre-war Hungary was attached to the newly created Czechoslovak state (Slovakia and Subcarpathia) while Croatia-Slavonia as well as parts of Southern Hungary (Voivodina, Baranja, Medjumurje and Prekmurje) were to the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenians (later Yugoslavia). Hungary lost 67.3 percent of its pre-war territory, including huge areas populated mostly or mainly by Hungarians, and 58.4 percent of its population. As a result approximately one third of the Hungarians became an - often oppressed - ethnic minority in some of the predominantly hostile neighboring countries. Trianon became the major point of reference of interwar nationalistic and anti-Semitic Hungarian regimes.

7 Neolog Jewry

Following a Congress in 1868/69 in Budapest, where the Jewish community was meant to discuss several issues on which the opinion of the traditionalists and the modernizers differed and which aimed at uniting Hungarian Jews, Hungarian Jewry was officially split into two (later three) communities, which all created their own national community network. The Neologs were the modernizers, and they opposed the Orthodox on various questions.

8 Labor Battalion

Under the 1939 II. Law 230, those deemed unfit for military service were required to complete 'public interest forced labor'. After the implementation of the second anti-Jewish law within the military, the military arranged 'special work battalions' for those Jews, who were not called up for armed service. With the entry into northern Transylvania (August 1940), those of Jewish origin who had begun, and were now finishing, their military service were directed to the work battalions. The 2870/1941 HM order unified the arrangement, saying that the Jews are to fulfill military obligations in the support units of the national guard. In the summer of 1942, thousands of Jews were recruited to labor battalions with the Hungarian troops going to the Soviet front. Some 50,000 in labor battalions went with the Second Hungarian Army to the Eastern Front – of these, only 6-7000 returned.

9 Hungarian occupation of Subcarpathia

On March 10th 1939, the Hungarian ministerial council decided to reoccupy the parts of the Subcarpathian basin which remained in Czechoslovakian hands after the First Vienna Decision. The majority of the territories residents were Ruthenians.  At the same time, the German army invaded the Czech and Moravian territories, Czechoslovia dissolved, and the remaining territories became a German puppet-state called the Slovak Republic.

10 Constable

A member of the Hungarian Royal Constabulary, responsible for keeping order in rural areas, this was a militarily organized national police, subordinated to both, the Ministry of the Interior and the Ministry of Defence. The body was created in 1881 to replace the previously eliminated county and estate gendarmarie (pandours), with the legal authority to insure the security of cities. Constabularies were deployed at every county seat and mining area. The municipal cities generally had their own law enforcement bodies – the police. The constables had the right to cross into police jurisdiction during the course of special investigations. Preservatory governing structure didn’t conform (the outmoded principles working in the strict hierarchy) to the social and economic changes happening in the country. Conflicts with working-class and agrarian movements, and national organisations turned more and more into outright bloody transgressions. Residents only saw the constabulary as an apparatus for consolidation of conservative power. After putting down the Hungarian Soviet Republic, the Christian establishment in the formidable and anti-Semitically biased forces came across a coercive force able to check the growing social movements caused by the unresolved land question. Aside from this, at the time of elections – since villages had public voting – they actively took steps against the opposition candidates and supporters. In 1944, the Constabulary directed the collection of rural Jews into ghettos and their deportation. After the suspension of deportations (June 6, 1944), the arrow cross sympathetic interior apparatus Constabulary forces were called to Budapest to attempt a coup. The body was disbanded in 1945, and the new democratic police took over.

11 Bor

The copper mines of Bor, Yugoslavia were one of the most important resources for the German war industry, supplying them with 50 percent of their copper. After the capitulation of Yugoslavia, the Germans requested Hungarian forced labor battalions from the Hungarian government to use in the mines. In July of 1943, transportation of the Hungarian Jewish labor battalions to Bor began, and by September of 1944, more than 6000 people had been sent for ‘obligatory forced labor’. When the Germans left, they force marched the prisoners to Germany, executing the majority of them along the way.

12 Rakosi regime

Matyas Rakosi was a Stalinist Hungarian leader of Jewish origin between 1948-1956. He introduced a complete communist terror, established a Stalinist type cult for himself and was responsible for the show trials of the early 1950s. After the Revolution of 1956, he went to the Soviet Union, where he died in 1971.

13 AVO and AVH

  In 1945, the Political Security Department was created under the jurisdiction of the Budapest Police Headquarters, and directed by Gabor Peter. Its' aim was the arrest and prosecution of war criminals. In October of 1946, the Hungarian State Police put this organization under direct authority of the interior minister, under the name – State Defense Department (AVO). Although the AVO’s official purpose was primarily the defense of the democratic state order, and to investigate war crimes and crimes against the people, as well as the collection and recording of foreign and national information concerning state security, from the time of its inception it collected information about leading coalition party politicians, tapped the telephones of the political opponents of the communists, ...etc. With the decree of September 10, 1948, the powers of the Interior Ministry broadened, and the AVO came under its’ direct subordination – a new significant step towards the organization’s self-regulation. At this time, command of the State Border, Commerce and Air Traffic Control, as well as the National Central Authority for Control of Foreigners (KEOKH) was put under the sphere of authority of the AVH, thus also empowering them  with control of the granting of passports. The AVH (State Defense Authority) was created organisationally dependent on the Interior Ministry on December 28, 1949, and was directly subordinate to the Ministry council. Military prevention and the National Guard were melded into the new organization. In a move to secure complete control, the AVH was organized in a strict hierarchical order, covering the entire area of the country with a network of agents and subordinate units. In actuality, Matyas Rakosi and those in the innermost circle of Party leaders were in direct control and authority over the provision of it. The sitting ministry council of July 17, 1953, ordered the repeal of the AVH as a independent organ, and its fusion into the Interior Ministry. The decision didn’t become public, and because of it’s secrecy caused various misunderstandings, even within the state apparatus. Also attributable to this confusion, was the fact that though the AVH was really, formally stripped of its independent power, it remained in continuous use within the ranks of state defense, and put the state defense departments up against the Interior Ministry units. This could explain the fact that on October 28, 1956, in the radio broadcast of Imre Nagy, he promised to disband that State Defense Authority, which was still in place during his time as Prime Minister, though it had been eliminated three years earlier.

14 Radio Free Europe

The radio station was set up by the National Committee for a Free Europe, an American organization, funded by Congress through the CIA, in 1950 with headquarters in West Germany. The radio broadcast uncensored news and features from Munich to countries behind the Iron Curtain. The programs were produced by Central and Eastern European emigrant editors, journalists and moderators. The radio station was jammed behind the Iron Curtain, team members were constantly harassed and several people were killed in terrorist attacks by the KGB. Radio Free Europe played a role in supporting dissident groups, inner resistance and will of freedom in communist countries behind the Iron Curtain and thus it contributed to the downfall of the totalitarian regimes of Central and Eastern Europe.

15 Yellow star houses

The system of exclusively Jewish houses which acted as a form of hostage taking was introduced by the Hungarian authorities in June 1944 in Budapest. The authorities believed that if they concentrated all the Jews of Budapest in the ghetto, the Allies would not attack it, but if they placed such houses all over Budapest, especially near important public buildings it was a kind of guarantee. Jews were only allowed to leave such houses for two hours a day to buy supplies and such.

16 Arrow Cross Party

The most extreme of the Hungarian fascist movements in the mid-1930s. The party consisted of several groups, though the name is now commonly associated with the faction organized by Ferenc Szalasi and Kalman Hubay in 1938. Following the Nazi pattern, the party promised not only the establishment of a fascist-type system including social reforms, but also the ‘solution of the Jewish question’. The party’s uniform consisted of a green shirt and a badge with a set of crossed arrows, a Hungarian version of the swastika, on it. On 15th October 1944, when Governor Horthy announced Hungary’s withdrawal from the war, the Arrow Cross seized power with military help from the Germans. The Arrow Cross government ordered general mobilization and enforced a regime of terror which, though directed chiefly against the Jews, also inflicted heavy suffering on the Hungarians. It was responsible for the deportation and death of tens of thousands of Jews. After the Soviet army liberated the whole of Hungary by early April 1945, Szalasi and his Arrow Cross ministers were brought to trial and executed.

17 1989 Political changes

A description, rather than name for the surprising events following the summer of 1989, when Hungarian border guards began allowing East German families vacationing in Hungary to cross into Austria, and escape to the West. After the symbolic reburial of Imre Nagy, the Hungarian parliament quietly announced its rejection of communism and transformation to a social democracy. The confused internal struggle among Soviet satellite nations which ensued, eventually led to the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the reorganization of Eastern Europe. The Soviets peacefully withdrew their military in 1990.

18 1956

  It designates the Revolution, which started on 23rd October 1956 against Soviet rule and the communists in Hungary. It was started by student and worker demonstrations in Budapest and began with the destruction of Stalin’s gigantic statue. Moderate communist leader Imre Nagy was appointed as prime minister and he promised reform and democratization. The Soviet Union withdrew its troops which had been stationed in Hungary since the end of World War II, but they returned after Nagy’s declaration that Hungary would pull out of the Warsaw Pact to pursue a policy of neutrality. The Soviet army put an end to the uprising on the 4th of November, and mass repression and arrests began. About 200,000 Hungarians fled from the country. Nagy and a number of his supporters were executed. Until 1989 and the fall of the communist regime, the Revolution of 1956 was officially considered a counter-revolution.

Abram Kopelovich

Abram Kopelovich
Riga
Latvia
Interviewer: Svetlana Kovalchuk
Date of interview: August 2002

Growing up
During the War
Family background
My education
My family life
Alexander Germanovich Losev
Glossary

Growing up

My maternal grandfather, Zalman Beskin, died in 1938. I don't know when he was born, but he died in Vitebsk 1. I was three months old then. His wife, my grandmother Musya [Beskina], died in 1953 and she had been the head of the family since her husband died. Grandfather's brother Beskin, whose first name I forgot, was a merchant and lived in Kiev before the revolution 2. When his store was nationalized, about ten wagons were needed to take away all the goods from his shop. He had been a rich man and the Soviet authorities exiled him and his family to Yakutia [Northern Siberia] in 1924.

When I studied in Moscow, I saw Grandfather's nephew a couple of times, the son of this merchant. He was the deputy minister of trade of Yakutia! What his first name was, I, honestly, don't know. But the surname was Beskin! I think, that the Beskins live in Yakutia nowadays as well. My father Isaac Markovich Kopelovich 3, Jewish name Mordukh Idel Motl Kopelovich, was born in 1901 in Dvinsk [today Daugavpils in Latvia, 230 km east of Riga], and my mother Tsimlya Zalmanovna Beskina was also born in 1901, but in Vitebsk. They were a handsome couple. They got married in 1922 and had a chuppah. But he was a Trotskyist at that time. He was a Trotskyist until 1928, and when Trotsky 4 was defeated, expelled from the Communist Party [December, 1927] and exiled from Moscow, that was it. Later my father was Iosif Stalin's ideological follower. And my mother told him, 'Stop fiddling about with your Communist Party, I'm expecting another baby, who we are supposed to feed, by the way!' My brother earned something too by reselling things. He was born in 1924 and called Lev or Lyova. In 1928 my sister Sonya was born, Sofia.

My father's education was 'super-highest' - four classes. And Mum had completed eight classes - she wanted to study very much, but her father was very poor. Her uncle was very rich, but he wouldn't give the money for her education. I know only this fact: she wanted to study very much.

My father was a soldier in the Red Army 5 since 1919. There were four brothers, who had found themselves in Vitebsk [today Belarus] - Leib, or in the Russian way Lyova, then Khaikl, the eldest, then brother Girsh [Grigoriy], Uncle Grisha, and my father Isaac - the youngest. Uncle Grisha was the one who loved to sing Jewish songs. Whenever I hear singing now, I think of him.

Later, the border was drawn between Russia and Latvia 6. The brothers served in the army at the time and then they found themselves wives. So, these four Red Army soldiers remained abroad, that is out of Latvia.

When Daddy fought in the Civil War 7 he was a rather experienced soldier, so he asked his commander to visit Moscow for one day, as he was serving nearby. The commander allowed him to. He arrived at his uncle's home, and his uncle shook out the contents of his rucksack and put in a crate of vodka instead. Father came to his unit, reported to the commander that Soldier Kopelovich had arrived and heard: 'Hey, why don't you take off your rucksack first!'- 'I can't, it's too heavy! Help me!' So they took off the sack and it was full of vodka! Father was not given a gram, but at once was promoted to the rank of sergeant major. And by the end of the war he was a sergeant major.

Here in Dvinsk, there were seven relatives left, all 'Zionists' and 'super Communists.' The first to be executed in Latvia in 1935 was my aunt Sofia Kopelovich; she was a Communist. But the most interesting things happened later. In 1937, people in the USSR were permitted to make telephone calls to Daugavpils [before 1920 Dvinsk], Latvia. They didn't correspond with each other by mail, it was impossible 8. So they decided to call. Father was busy at work, so he didn't call. In the morning they went to see their friends who did call - and they found out that all of them were arrested. Therefore the brothers refrained from calling. They decided that the following day they would go to the post office and call their mother. But the following day those who called were in prison. And my father Isaac was a Communist, a commander, so he couldn't compromise himself like that. There was no communication between Dvinsk and Vitebsk. It probably existed before 1928-1930, but later the Stalin regime was very strict 9 and arrested those who tried to get in touch with their relatives. I vaguely know my Dvinsk relatives.

Daddy was an odd-job man, a baker mostly. The Communist Party directed him to be a shop manager. And he kept this position until 1941.

During the War

As soon as the war began 10 he was immediately sent to the front, but before he left he took all his relatives and put them all in a railway car and sent them to the Urals. As I was told - I was small then - we reached the Urals, and then headed for Dzhambul, in Kazakhstan. Mother's brother, Ierukhim Beskin, we called him Uncle Ira, was then working in Moscow as the director of a printing house, and we wrote to him and learnt who was where.

We arrived back in Vitebsk in 1944, and I started going to school. Father was still in the army, and we arrived right after Vitebsk had been liberated. The city was completely destroyed! They say Smolensk was destroyed, but in Vitebsk 95 percent of the buildings lay in ruins. I remember only the mess. I remember one bridge across which we were walking, there was a bridge to the brick plant that the Fascists wanted to blow up, and one soldier received the rank of Hero of the Soviet Union 11 for preventing that.

We were given a room in a barrack. And before Father returned in 1945, we lived there. Mum worked at the brick factory as an unskilled worker. We boys ran about, as I remember, played lapta [a ball game]. We were very good friends, I can hardly believe now that it is possible to live in such an amicable way. You ask if we lived poorly? That's not the right word! My grandmother used to give me 'a cake' in evacuation. And what this cake was? - a small slice of bread cut into tiny cubes. That was called a cake. Certainly, for the toilet - be it in winter or summer - you had to go outside. Before I left for Moscow to study, it was nothing for me to run to the toilet outside of the house barefoot in winter. No detrimental consequences whatsoever.

In 1945, my father was discharged from the army, returned home, and was given three German POWs, Fascists, to help him cut the wood and build two frameworks of houses and cement a deep cellar. Then the Germans were taken away, and he finished the work by himself.

After the war, he was just as strong an ideologist as before, but when I turned thirteen in 1951, he, the big Communist atheist, gathered ten Jews and carried out a bar mitzvah as if he was a fully ordained rabbi. Father retired at the age of 60 - in 1961. He still worked a little bit at different jobs. But at 69 years of age he died of cancer.

Father didn't want to return to Dvinsk after the war, because his mother and father had died there, and all our relatives had perished in the war. He told me that they were very religious.

Family background

My brother Lyova finished eight classes of the Jewish school in Vitebsk, and then they closed the school. We all knew Yiddish well, wrote and spoke the language. In our home, we only spoke Yiddish with our grandmother. And with others we could speak Russian, sometimes inserting Belarusian words. With Daddy and Mum I spoke Russian. When they wanted to hide something from me, they spoke Yiddish. And when they realized that I understood everything, they started to mix Yiddish, Russian, and Belarusian words. But both they and I knew that wasn't working.

Uncle Ierukhim Beskin, my mother's brother, left with a large group of friends for Moscow in 1925-1926. This was a group of 20 men - all of them became porters in Moscow, having had not much of an education. And gradually, step by step, they made their way into the world. Some of them returned to Vitebsk, some were killed during the war.

Uncle Ira fell deeply in love with a beautiful woman. The parents of the two parties were against their marriage. Galina Evgrafovna came from an old noble Russian family. They loved each other and registered their union. Grandma used to joke, 'My son cannot eat pork, but he cannot resist cold boiled pork!' Which was her way of referring to her daughter-in-law. But then Galina became very close with my grandmother. They had two kids. They agreed that if there would be a boy - circumcision, if a girl - christening. There was a boy, and later there was a girl. The boy was duly circumcised, the girl christened. The boy's name was Leonid, we called him Lerik. He eventually graduated from a legal college in 1952, but he could not work: in his passport Leonid's nationality was Russian 12, but his surname - Beskin - was specifically Jewish. Leonid's nationality, which he got from his mother, didn't make his life easier.

Eventually, at the end of his life he became the manager of the singer Iosif Kobzon [people's actor of the USSR, officially recognized singer]. He was engaged in theatrical business, was a manager, and came to Riga several times with various troupes. When Leonid Beskin died, Kobzon took on the funeral expenses. Leonid is buried at the non-Jewish Novodevichye cemetery, the most prestigious one in Moscow. It's right in the center of Moscow.

Galina and Uncle Ira are buried there, too. He was not a Communist; in fact, he became a rich man. His daughter Svetlana is in Damascus, they [she and her husband] received jobs at the conservatory there.

My eldest aunt is Anya Bessmertnova [nee Beskina]; her husband died under the wheels of a tram in Moscow. That's what I was told, but trams do not gain such speeds in Moscow to run over a man. He was a jeweler, so it's a dark and suspicious affair. They lived in Vitebsk and owned a big house there before the war.

Grandmother lived in Vitebsk with her younger daughter Tsilya Shagalova [nee Beskina (1900-1989)]. Granny was very religious. Father used to bake matzot, basically for her.

She cooked only kosher meals. She ate only dairy products. Uncle Ira used to say, 'Nobody has the right to help her. I am the only son - me!' Besides, after the war, he gave every one of his relatives 10,000 Rubles each to start building their own houses. And to his last day he supported his mum. Uncle Ira came to visit very often, together with his wife, sometimes in his own car. Aunt Galina Evgrafovna didn't like to offend anybody, so she visited all the relatives and ate everything she was given, although she knew that she would have to take purgatives later. She used to say, 'Well, why would I offend anybody?! But my diet, my fine figure!' They loved each other, those two.

I remember coming to see my grandmother and she would give me a Ruble: 'Go buy yourself some berries.' I went and I bought wild strawberries, which I could eat right in the market place, or, if it were other berries, I had to wash them first. Everyone loved her very much. At 89 she broke a leg while descending the porch. That was in 1952. And in Vitebsk there were very professional doctors then. The persecution of Jews had already begun and prominent experts from Moscow escaped to Vitebsk, and worked in the Medical Institute 13. They performed an operation, put her leg in plaster and said, 'With God's mercy she will be able to sit.' She sat, then she rose, then she walked on crutches and with a stick. After that, her case was described in many medical books, because it's a wonderful fact that she could get absolutely well at that age. When my cousin, who is now in Germany, studied there, she was told about this case by her professors. Then she said, 'It's my granny!' Grandmother died at the age of 89.

My education

The school I went to was a kind of an elite school. Our Physics teacher was the first person to be awarded the Order of Lenin 14 in Belarus. Our Russian teacher was in the circle of Vladimir Mayakovsky 15. My friend, Nikolay Tishechkin, became a people's actor of Belarus. I wasn't the only Jew in our class. There were no national issues whatsoever. Everyone was a member of the Komsomol 16, or a pioneer 17. We visited factories and we had all sorts of interesting field trips. Our life was very nice.

I graduated from the Moscow Polygraphic Institute. I was admitted the first year when Jews were accepted, in 1955. The supervisor of our school treated Jews very well, and she told me, 'Don't you think, that you are not going to be admitted because you are a Jew!' She was Russian or Latvian, I think.

I became a student of the mechanical faculty, specializing in mechanics and design of polygraphic machines. The food at our faculty was disgusting and because we were students of arts and humanitarian sciences, they fed us miserably. And suddenly, there came an announcement - that we were to go on strike! Nobody went to eat for two days. At that time the so-called Hungarian events 18 were happening. Instantly, all sorts of big shots descended on our school. And they immediately rectified the situation.

Sometimes we went skiing. Once we wandered into the residence of Khrushchev 19. They showed us to the exit rather quickly.

At school, every night we had dancing parties, especially on Saturdays. There was a separate campus, two kilometers from any residential area. I lived in a small room - there were only 18 of us living together - all nationalities. When you look at the picture of us, it is remarkable to see every ethnic type.

My uncle's wife, Galina Evgrafovna, personally taught me good manners and all the rules of decent behavior. She introduced me to Moscow's high society and taught me many things, including the right way to hold a spoon or a fork. You know, I was from a small town!

Uncle Ira was the director of a large printing house of the Moscow Theatrical Society. All posters, all tickets - were made there. As a student, I attended all the performances. Thanks to him, I saw a lot of theater plays. I went to the first Viennese ballet on ice, various festivals.

We graduated in 1960. After graduation, we had reunions every five years. On 5th May - the Publisher's Day. We continued meeting until Latvia became independent. Everybody used to come - even some foreigners, who studied with us. During these 30 years we were gathering every five years.

After graduation we had a 'free distribution' 20 - that means everybody was to look for a job independently. My brother Lyova worked here in Riga, and he was the head of a foundry shop. He had trouble with the Latvian language, which he didn't speak and needed to communicate with the workers in Russian.

I worked in the sixth printing house for half a year, that's where Sergey Eisenstein 21, the famous film-director, worked. They insisted on speaking only Latvian to me. So my brother sent me to the electric lamps factory, and asked his acquaintances there to hire me. It was a large production plant. So I went to the main engineer and he said, 'OK, start tomorrow.' I came the following day, though the first department - department of the KGB 22 - didn't want to accept me because I was a Jew and the factory was paramilitary. I began to work, and I worked there until my very retirement. I held all kinds of posts at the factory. I have achieved the rank of designer of the first category, there's nothing above it. I worked as deputy chief mechanic, the chief of design bureau, and my last assignment was the director of a shop.

My family life

Where can you find a Jewish wife? In the regional Komsomol Committee! I was an educated Communist. I finished the University of Marxism-Leninism as a Komsomol member, then took a philosophical training course. I was the secretary of the Komsomol organization of our workshop.

Once there was a session in the office of the third secretary of the Kirovsky district Komsomol Committee. I was the chief of the Komsomol lecturers' group, and my future wife also held some post. It was the time when various youth contests were fashionable. And there was one contest held right then at the factory 'Bolshevichk?'. And there comes my future wife, a young girl, and asks for two tickets. I didn't even now what kind of tickets they were. She bought two tickets and left, and I liked her.

And I told Valya, the member of the Komsomol Committee, 'Valya, I also need two tickets.' And she said, 'Abram, what, are you crazy? You never liked such performances.' - 'But I want to see one now.' 'Well, here you are.'

So I came there with my comrade. She came with a friend, too. And I invited her to dance although I wasn't an expert dancer. And she was a little bit offended because my friend was a real lady's man.

We didn't start dating for a long time. We saw each other about ten times, half a year. She was the first Jewish girl who I liked very much. And that's it. I didn't even know from the start that she was Jewish. And when I found that out, oy - she is Jewish! - OK, it's high time for me to get married! And I have never regretted it. We registered our marriage in 1965.

I was already a Communist, my wife was a Communist, so there was no chuppah, no Jewish wedding. Then it was impossible 23. Instantly, the authorities would have known about it. In 1966 our daughter was born. We couldn't afford a second child - she studied and we thought it would be too hard - nobody helped us financially. Debts, furniture on credit, apartment by installments - that was our life.

We lived in a rented apartment. It was possible to rent and then buy an apartment, so we wrote five applications to different co-operatives. Once I was in a collective farm 24 on an assignment. I came home on leave - and my wife wasn't there. And I was dressed in a felt jersey, just from the collective farm in the country. The neighbors told me she was at a party. I found her and she jumped up, delighted and happy. And I was standing there in dirty boots, you know, right from the village. And she exclaimed: 'I have paid for the apartment!' I said, 'No problem, honey, it's only 30 Rubles.' 'No, I mean the first installment for the apartment in the co- operative society! I had to borrow from this and that!'

And we received the apartment very fast. Then it was necessary to pay back the debts, and it turned out to be a prolonged procedure. It took us about 15 years to pay it all back. And we had to buy books too, and to settle our other bills. We began to travel a little when our daughter turned six. And then we started traveling more and more often. We never built or bought a summerhouse. However, we used summer residences provided by the state from time to time.

My wife's name is Anna [nee Maisel], she finished a Physics college here, and then worked at a prison school in Valmiera [a town 106 km north east of Riga]. Later she worked in another school as a teacher, and deputy director. She studied at post-graduate courses in Moscow. They didn't take her at university - as a Jewish person. But she found a job in the Institute of Improvement of Teachers' Qualifications. Later there was a vacancy of a scientific employee in the institute at the Ministry of Education. Soon she became the chief of the department of labor training in the Institute of Pedagogy of the Ministry of Education. It was considered a prestigious post. Then she was invited to read lectures. Now my spouse is the Dean of the faculty of Pedagogy and Psychology of the Latvian University.

When in 1991 the so-called freedom period began 25, my spouse Anna and Bregman Losev were the founders of Jewish schools. Anna created the first methodological instructions, first programs, and Losev analyzed the Jewish national questions. And they created the first Jewish school. Now, unfortunately, the schools have changed. Now the questions of money prevail, and then these questions were not so important. There was one goal: to create a Jewish school, so that Jewish children could learn about Jewish culture, Jewish life, and in general the basics of their national culture.

My daughter's name is Nelli, Muller after her marriage. She graduated from the university in the department of Physics, with an honors diploma. She was not offered a job in the university due to a simple reason - the position was meant for a relative of one of the bosses. And she entered the post-graduate courses in the Polytechnical Institute in Riga. When she was about to defend her thesis, Latvia became independent and all those changes started happening. And she left for America with her husband. She is a mathematician and works in a large travel company. And she carries out all mathematical processing for the company - absolutely all of it. She married a Jew, which is natural. It is a question of tradition and education. Both the Kopelovich and Muller families originated from Daugavpils. My daughter, granddaughter, and grandson are all Jewish, and the boy is circumcised.

I was a secular man. But, whenever I was on holiday with my wife, or I was traveling alone, I always found time for visiting a synagogue. Not because I was a believer, I just felt drawn to it. Besides, I liked to enter mosques and Christian churches.

But on 18-19th August, 1991, during the coup attempt against Gorbachev 26, we were on Baikal Lake [in Siberia], and we were very scared. There was no connection home to Riga, and besides they were showing all sorts of terrible stuff on TV, so we were very worried. It was in 1991, and we were in a place from where people can't be exiled any farther. It was funny! It was a Soviet tradition for television to show all sorts of cultural programs like the ballet 'Swan Lake,' Beethoven symphonies when some big Communist leaders died, like Brezhnev 27, Andropov, or Chernenko. And in these few days, we had too much culture and not enough news.

Up to the end of my life I will remember that I am a Jew. And I knew that I would marry only a Jewish girl. On Saturdays I started to attend synagogue. But of course, I don't observe all the subtleties of religion. First of all, it's a very long way to the synagogue if you go on foot. It's a great deal of walking. And you cannot ride on Saturdays. It's a serious infringement. And, secondly, my wife often comes late on Friday. If I'm at home, I light the candles. She sometimes works on Saturdays too, she cannot refuse. Well, how can one observe traditions in this situation? It is not allowed to put on the light, to do this, to do that. We cannot observe, even if we wanted to. The only thing we do, we don't eat bread at Pesach. When I worked, I didn't care what people said, I brought matzot and ate it. And my wife says it isn't very convenient, but still she abstains from eating bread. I keep the customs within reasonable limits - I would always put on a cap when I light the Friday night candles.

My sister didn't leave for Israel while Mum was alive. But when our mother died, my sister left. And then she died in Israel not long afterwards. We have a lot of relatives in Israel. The Zeltsers from Grodno [town in Belarus]: Sofia Zeltser, and her husband Alexander Zeltser. Their children are Musya, a doctor in Netanya, and Arkady, who is now working for a doctor's degree at the Jerusalem university. My brother Lyova left for Israel in 1992. My brother's son is now a doctor in Netanya.

My cousin Nina, Uncle Lyova's daughter, lives in Vitebsk. We regularly visit Vitebsk; our parents' graves are there. Two years ago we attended the festival 'Slavonic Fair' [an annual music festival called Slavyanskiy Bazar in Russian] there. I understand and speak Yiddish, too.

Alexander Germanovich Losev

I need to say some words about my dear friend Alexander Germanovich Losev [1923 -1997], or as we called him, Sasha. I have a picture with him in it. I knew him since July 1961. I came to Riga after graduating from the institute in Moscow, and he was a friend of my brother Lev Kopelovich. Losev came to Riga after having completed training in the studio of Solomon Mikhoels 28 in Moscow. He and my brother were sent to Latvia by Mikhoels to create the Jewish theater right after the war. Unfortunately, it was not the time for founding theaters. Life was very hard.

My brother went to work in the foundry; Alexander Germanovich finished the pedagogical institute and started to teach at an evening school. Then he got married, lived on Dzirnavu Street in one room in a shared apartment 29. Financially he lived very poorly. He was always engaged in issues of literature. His hobby is the history of interrelation between Russian and Latvian languages, Rainis [real name: Janis Plieksans (1865-1929): poet, playwright, translator and politician, considered the most distinguished Latvian writer of all time], Pushkin 30 and so on.

He finished post-graduate courses by correspondence, obtaining the degree of a candidate of sciences 31 and worked in the Institute of Pedagogical Studies at the Ministry of Education. In the beginning he was just a scientific employee, but he finished in the rank of a scientific secretary. He wrote a lot of articles and books. He was always interested in Jewish issues, Jewish literature. At the same time he had many Russian and Latvian friends. He had been granted a three-room apartment, where in one of the rooms was his study, full of scientific materials, books, and magazines. He was very cheerful, and liked to tell Jewish jokes very much. It was a sheer pleasure to sit and talk to him. He felt very young and we loved him very much. We lived very near each other, he frequently came to see us and called on the telephone.

When he died, there was a big funeral ceremony. All the Jewish community came, as well as the Orthodox Christian community, that's how well loved he was. He died in 1997, and he is buried at the Jewish cemetery.

Glossary:

1 Vitebsk

Provincial town in the Russian Empire, near the Baltic Republics, with 66,000 inhabitants at the end of the 19th century; birthplace of Russian Jewish painter Marc Chagall (1887-1985). Today in Belarus.

2 Russian Revolution of 1917

Revolution in which the tsarist regime was overthrown in the Russian Empire and, under Lenin, was replaced by the Bolshevik rule. The two phases of the Revolution were: February Revolution, which came about due to food and fuel shortages during World War I, and during which the tsar abdicated and a provisional government took over. The second phase took place in the form of a coup led by Lenin in October/November (October Revolution) and saw the seizure of power by the Bolsheviks.

3 Common name

Russified or Russian first names used by Jews in everyday life and adopted in official documents. The Russification of first names was one of the manifestations of the assimilation of Russian Jews at the turn of the 19th and 20th century. In some cases only the spelling and pronunciation of Jewish names was Russified (e.g. Isaac instead of Yitskhak; Boris instead of Borukh), while in other cases traditional Jewish names were replaced by similarly sounding Russian names (e.g. Eugenia instead of Ghita; Yury instead of Yuda). When state anti-Semitism intensified in the USSR at the end of the 1940s, most Jewish parents stopped giving their children traditional Jewish names to avoid discrimination.

4 Trotsky, Lev Davidovich (born Bronshtein) (1879-1940)

Russian revolutionary, one of the leaders of the October Revolution of 1917, an outstanding figure of the communist movement and a theorist of Marxism. Trotsky participated in the social-democratic movement from 1894 and supported the idea of the unification of Bolsheviks and Mensheviks from 1906. In 1905 he developed the idea of the 'permanent revolution'. He was one of the leaders of the October Revolution and a founder of the Red Army. He widely applied repressive measures to support the discipline and 'bring everything into revolutionary order' at the front and the home front. The intense struggle with Stalin for the leadership ended with Trotsky's defeat. In 1924 his views were declared petty-bourgeois deviation. In 1927 he was expelled from the Communist Party, and exiled to Kazakhstan, and in 1929 abroad. He lived in Turkey, Norway and then Mexico. He excoriated Stalin's regime as a bureaucratic degeneration of the proletarian power. He was murdered in Mexico by an agent of Soviet special services on Stalin's order.

5 Soviet Army

The armed forces of the Soviet Union, originally called Red Army and renamed Soviet Army in February 1946. After the Bolsheviks came to power, in November 1917, they commenced to organize the squads of worker's army, called Red Guards, where workers and peasants were recruited on voluntary bases. The commanders were either selected from among the former tsarist officers and soldiers or appointed directly by the Military and Revolutionary Committy of the Communist Party. In early 1918 the Bolshevik government issued a decree on the establishment of the Workers' and Peasants' Red Army and mandatory drafting was introduced for men between 18 and 40. In 1918 the total number of draftees was 100 thousand officers and 1.2 million soldiers. Military schools and academies training the officers were restored. In 1925 the law on compulsory military service was adopted and annual drafting was established. The term of service was established as follows: for the Red Guards- two years, for junior officers of aviation and fleet- three years, for medium and senior officers- 25 years. People of exploiter classes (former noblemen, merchants, officers of the tsarist army, priest, factory owner, etc. and their children) as well as kulaks (rich peasants) and cossacks were not drafted in the army. The law as of 1939 cancelled restriction on drafting of men belonging to certain classes, students were not drafted but went through military training in their educational institutions. On the 22nd June 1941 Great Patriotic War was unleashed and the drafting in the army became exclusively compulsory. First, in June-July 1941 general and complete mobilization of men was carried out as well as partial mobilization of women. Then annual drafting of men, who turned 18, was commenced. When WWII was over, the Red Army amounted to over 11 million people and the demobilization process commenced. By the beginning of 1948 the Soviet Army had been downsized to 2 million 874 thousand people. The youth of drafting age were sent to the restoration works in mines, heavy industrial enterprises, and construction sites. In 1949 a new law on general military duty was adopted, according to which service term in ground troops and aviation was three years and in navy- fouryears. Young people with secondary education, both civilian and military, with the age range of 17-23 were admitted in military schools for officers. In 1968 the term of the army service was contracted to two years in ground troops and in the navy to three years. That system of army recruitment has remained without considerable changes until the breakup of the Soviet Army (1991-93).

6 Latvian independence

The end of the 19th century was marked byraise of the national consciousness and the start of national movement in Latvia, that was a part of the Russian Empire. It was particularly strong during the first Russian revolution in 1905-07. After the fall of the Russian monarchy in February 1917 the Latvian representatives conveyed their demand to grant Latvia the status of autonomy to the Russian Duma. During World War I, in late 1918 the major part of Latvia, including Riga, was taken by the German army. However, Germany, having lost the war, could not leave these lands in its ownership, while the winning countries were not willing to let these countries to be annexed to the Soviet Russia. The current international situation gave Latvia a chance to gain its own statehood. From 1917 Latvian nationalists secretly plot against the Germans. When Germany surrenders on November 11, they seize their chance and declare Latvia's independence at the National Theatre on November 18, 1918. Under the Treaty of Riga, Russia promises to respect Latvia's independence for all time. Latvia's independence is recognized by the international community on January 26, 1921, and nine months later Latvia is admitted into the League of Nations. The independence of Latvia was recognized de jure. The Latvian Republic remained independent until its Soviet occupation in 1940.

7 Civil War (1918-1920)

The Civil War between the Reds (the Bolsheviks) and the Whites (the anti-Bolsheviks), which broke out in early 1918, ravaged Russia until 1920. The Whites represented all shades of anti- communist groups - Russian army units from World War I, led by anti- Bolshevik officers, by anti-Bolshevik volunteers and some Mensheviks and Social Revolutionaries. Several of their leaders favored setting up a military dictatorship, but few were outspoken tsarists. Atrocities were committed throughout the Civil War by both sides. The Civil War ended with Bolshevik military victory, thanks to the lack of cooperation among the various White commanders and to the reorganization of the Red forces after Trotsky became commissar for war. It was won, however, only at the price of immense sacrifice; by 1920 Russia was ruined and devastated. In 1920 industrial production was reduced to 14% and agriculture to 50% as compared to 1913.

8 Keep in touch with relatives abroad

The authorities could arrest an individual corresponding with his/her relatives abroad and charge him/her with espionage, send them to concentration camp or even sentence them to death.

9 Great Terror (1934-1938)

During the Great Terror, or Great Purges, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. The major targets of the Great Terror were Communists. Over half of the people who were arrested were members of the party at the time of their arrest. The armed forces, the Communist Party, and the government in general were purged of all allegedly dissident persons; the victims were generally sentenced to death or to long terms of hard labor. Much of the purge was carried out in secret, and only a few cases were tried in public 'show trials'. By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had managed to bring both the Party and the public to a state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet society was so atomized and the people so fearful of reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary. Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union until his death in March 1953.

10 Great Patriotic War

On 22nd June 1941 at 5 o'clock in the morning Nazi Germany attacked the Soviet Union without declaring war. This was the beginning of the so-called Great Patriotic War. The German blitzkrieg, known as Operation Barbarossa, nearly succeeded in breaking the Soviet Union in the months that followed. Caught unprepared, the Soviet forces lost whole armies and vast quantities of equipment to the German onslaught in the first weeks of the war. By November 1941 the German army had seized the Ukrainian Republic, besieged Leningrad, the Soviet Union's second largest city, and threatened Moscow itself. The war ended for the Soviet Union on 9th May 1945.

11 Hero of the Soviet Union

Honorary title established on 16th April 1934 with the Gold Star medal instituted on 1st August 1939, by Decree of the Presidium of the USSR Supreme Soviet. Awarded to both military and civilian personnel for personal or collective deeds of heroism rendered to the USSR or socialist society. 12 Item 5: This was the nationality/ethnicity line, which was included on all job application forms and in passports. Jews, who were considered a separate nationality in the Soviet Union, were not favored in this respect from the end of World War WII until the late 1980s.

13 Doctors' Plot

The Doctors' Plot was an alleged conspiracy of a group of Moscow doctors to murder leading government and party officials. In January 1953, the Soviet press reported that nine doctors, six of whom were Jewish, had been arrested and confessed their guilt. As Stalin died in March 1953, the trial never took place. The official paper of the Party, the Pravda, later announced that the charges against the doctors were false and their confessions obtained by torture. This case was one of the worst anti-Semitic incidents during Stalin's reign. In his secret speech at the Twentieth Party Congress in 1956 Khrushchev stated that Stalin wanted to use the Plot to purge the top Soviet leadership.

14 Order of Lenin

Established in 1930, the Order of Lenin is the highest Soviet award. It was awarded for outstanding services in the revolutionary movement, labor activity, defense of the Homeland, and strengthening peace between peoples. It has been awarded over 400,000 times.

15 Mayakovsky, Vladimir Vladimirovich (1893-1930)

Russian poet and dramatist. Mayakovsky joined the Social Democratic Party in 1908 and spent much time in prison for his political activities for the next two years. Mayakovsky triumphantly greeted the Revolution of 1917 and later he composed propaganda verse and read it before crowds of workers throughout the country. He became gradually disillusioned with Soviet life after the Revolution and grew more critical of it. Vladimir Ilyich Lenin (1924) ranks among Mayakovsky's best-known longer poems. However, his struggle with literary opponents and unhappy romantic experiences resulted in him committing suicide in 1930.

16 Komsomol

Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread of the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.

17 All-Union pioneer organization

a communist organization for teenagers between 10 and 15 years old (cf: boy-/ girlscouts in the US). The organization aimed at educating the young generation in accordance with the communist ideals, preparing pioneers to become members of the Komsomol and later the Communist Party. In the Soviet Union, all teenagers were pioneers.

18 1956 in Hungary

It designates the Revolution, which started on 23rd October 1956 against Soviet rule and the communists in Hungary. It was started by student and worker demonstrations in Budapest and began with the destruction of Stalin's gigantic statue. Moderate communist leader Imre Nagy was appointed as prime minister and he promised reform and democratization. The Soviet Union withdrew its troops which had been stationed in Hungary since the end of World War II, but they returned after Nagy's declaration that Hungary would pull out of the Warsaw Pact to pursue a policy of neutrality. The Soviet army put an end to the uprising on 4th November and mass repression and arrests began. About 200,000 Hungarians fled from the country. Nagy and a number of his supporters were executed. Until 1989 and the fall of the communist regime, the Revolution of 1956 was officially considered a counter-revolution.

19 Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971)

Soviet communist leader. After Stalin's death in 1953, he became first secretary of the Central Committee, in effect the head of the Communist Party of the USSR. In 1956, during the 20th Party Congress, Khrushchev took an unprecedented step and denounced Stalin and his methods. He was deposed as premier and party head in October 1964. In 1966 he was dropped from the Party's Central Committee.

20 Mandatory job assignment in the USSR

Graduates of higher educational institutions had to complete a mandatory 2-year job assignment issued by the institution from which they graduated. After finishing this assignment young people were allowed to get employment at their discretion in any town or organization.

21 Eisenstein, Sergey Mikhailovich (1898 -1948)

was a revolutionary Soviet film director and film theorist noted in particular for his silent films Strike, Battleship Potemkin and Oktober. His work vastly influenced early filmmakers owing to his innovative use of and writings about montage.

22 KGB

Committee of State Security, took over from NKVD: People's Committee of Internal Affairs; which earlier used to be called the GPU, the state security agency.

23 Struggle against religion

The 1930s was a time of anti-religion struggle in the USSR. In those years it was not safe to go to synagogue or to church. Places of worship, statues of saints, etc. were removed; rabbis, Orthodox and Roman Catholic priests disappeared behind KGB walls.

24 Kolkhoz

In the Soviet Union the policy of gradual and voluntary collectivization of agriculture was adopted in 1927 to encourage food production while freeing labor and capital for industrial development. In 1929, with only 4% of farms in kolkhozes, Stalin ordered the confiscation of peasants' land, tools, and animals; the kolkhoz replaced the family farm.

25 Reestablishment of the Latvian Republic

On May, 4 1990 Supreme Soviet of the Latvian Soviet Republic has accepted the declaration in which was informed on desire to restore independence of Latvia, and the transition period to restoration of full independence has been declared. The Soviet leadership in Moscow refused to acknowledge the independence of Lithuania and initiated an economic blockade on the country. At the referendum held on march, 3 1991, over 90 percent of the participants voted for independence. On 21 August 1991 the parliament took a decision on complete restoration of the prewar statehood of Latvia. The western world finally recognized Lithuanian independence and so did the USSR on 24th August 1991. In September 1991 Lithuania joined the United Nations. Through the years of independence Latvia has implemented deep economic reforms, introduced its own currency (Lat) in 1993, completed privatization and restituted the property to its former owners. Economic growth constitutes 5-7% per year. Also, it's taken the course of escaping the influence of Russia and integration into European structures. In February 1993 Latvia introduced the visa procedure with Russia, and in 1995 the last units of the Russian army left the country. Since 2004 Latvia has been a member of NATO and the European Union.

26 Gorbachev, Mikhail (1931- )

Soviet political leader. Gorbachev joined the Communist Party in 1952 and gradually moved up in the party hierarchy. In 1970 he was elected to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR, where he remained until 1990. In 1980 he joined the politburo, and in 1985 he was appointed general secretary of the party. In 1986 he embarked on a comprehensive program of political, economic, and social liberalization under the slogans of glasnost (openness) and perestroika (restructuring). The government released political prisoners, allowed increased emigration, attacked corruption, and encouraged the critical reexamination of Soviet history. The Congress of People's Deputies, founded in 1989, voted to end the Communist Party's control over the government and elected Gorbachev executive president. Gorbachev dissolved the Communist Party and granted the Baltic states independence. Following the establishment of the Commonwealth of Independent States in 1991, he resigned as president. Since 1992, Gorbachev has headed international organizations.

27 Brezhnev, Leonid, Ilyich (1906-82) Soviet leader

He joined the Communist Party in 1931 and rose steadily in its hierarchy, becoming a secretary of the party's central committee in 1952. In 1957, as protégé of Khrushchev, he became a member of the presidium (later politburo) of the central committee. He was chairman of the presidium of the Supreme Soviet, or titular head of state. Following Khrushchev's fall from power in 1964, which Brezhnev helped to engineer, he was named first secretary of the Communist Party. Although sharing power with Kosygin, Brezhnev emerged as the chief figure in Soviet politics. In 1968, in support of the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia, he enunciated the 'Brezhnev doctrine,' asserting that the USSR could intervene in the domestic affairs of any Soviet bloc nation if communist rule was threatened. While maintaining a tight rein in Eastern Europe, he favored closer relations with the Western powers, and he helped bring about a détente with the United States. In 1977 he assumed the presidency of the USSR. Under Gorbachev, Brezhnev's regime was criticized for its corruption and failed economic policies.

28 Mikhoels, Solomon (1890-1948) (born Vovsi)

Great Soviet actor, producer and pedagogue. He worked in the Moscow State Jewish Theater (and was its art director from 1929). He directed philosophical, vivid and monumental works. Mikhoels was murdered by order of the State Security Ministry.

29 Communal apartment

The Soviet power wanted to improve housing conditions by requisitioning 'excess' living space of wealthy families after the Revolution of 1917. Apartments were shared by several families with each family occupying one room and sharing the kitchen, toilet and bathroom with other tenants. Because of the chronic shortage of dwelling space in towns communal or shared apartments continued to exist for decades. Despite state programs for the construction of more houses and the liquidation of communal apartments, which began in the 1960s, shared apartments still exist today.

30 Pushkin, Alexandr (1799-1837)

Russian poet and prose writer, among the foremost figures in Russian literature. Pushkin established the modern poetic language of Russia, using Russian history for the basis of many of his works. His masterpiece is Eugene Onegin, a novel in verse about mutually rejected love. The work also contains witty and perceptive descriptions of Russian society of the period. Pushkin died in a duel.

31 Soviet/Russian doctorate degrees

Graduate school in the Soviet Union (aspirantura, or ordinatura for medical students), which usually took about three years and resulted in a dissertation. Students who passed were awarded a 'kandidat nauk' (lit. candidate of sciences) degree. If a person wanted to proceed with his or her research, the next step would be to apply for a doctorate degree (doktarontura). To be awarded a doctorate degree, the person had to be involved in the academia, publish consistently, and write an original dissertation. In the end he/she would be awarded a 'doctor nauk' (lit. doctor of sciences) degree.

Zuzana Minacova

Zuzana Minacova
Prague
Czech Republic
Interviewer: Dagmar Greslova
Date of interview: July 2006

Zuzana Minacova (75) was born in Bratislava, into an emancipated Jewish doctor's family. Her parents raised her in a non-religious manner, though she did have the opportunity to come into contact with Orthodoxy in her grandparents' family in Betlanovce, where she used to go for summer holidays, and where she had various adventures. Zuzana Minacova's idyllic childhood was however soon severed - she was only 8 years old when the Slovak State 1 broke out, and overnight her family was forced to deal with a number of restrictions and persecutions. Her initial experiences were while she was in hiding with her sister, however after someone informed on them, they were both transported to the Sered 2 collection camp, from there to Auschwitz, followed finally by a forced labor camp in Vrchlabi. She experienced the liberation as a 13-year-old girl. The war's events had forced her to prematurely grow up; after the war the cares and worries of other girls her age suddenly seemed alien to her. As she herself says, she wasn't interested in the difficulties of her classmates at school, she wanted to begin to live real life, to find work and do something fulfilling. This came to be - she became a well-known and successful photographer, and to this day is involved in this profession. She joined the so-called "new wave" of the 1960s, which expanded the expressive possibilities of photography. Her work is characterized by imagination, philosophical contemplation, poetic playfulness and experimentation. She is the author of photographic series such as Time, Waiting, Connections, Play, Stopping On the Way, Actors' Portraits, and Trees. Almost 60 years after World War II, Zuzana Minacova decided to "renew" her childhood family album, which she had lost during the chaos of World War II. In 1996, she began the "The Reconstruction of a Family Album" project, an evocation of her childhood through photographs. She involved her son Matej and his family in the project, as well as her friends and other familiar personalities, who took the place of her own relatives that she'd lost during the war, and of whom no photographs had survived. As she herself is a well-known photographer, she decided to reconstruct this album on the basis of her memories.

 

Family background">Family background

My father's parents were truly Orthodox Jews; during visits and summer holidays that I spent at their place, I had the opportunity to come into contact with religious life. My grandmother was named Maria Silbersteinova, née Hexnerova, and my grandfather was named Adolf Silberstein. They were both from Betlanovce, which is a small village near the Tatra Mountains in the Spisska Nova Ves region.

My grandmother's family had originally come from the Iberian Peninsula. The Hexner family left Spain when the Jews were being expelled from there at the end of the 15th century 3. They had originally wanted to settle in the Czech lands, but there was a law in effect here that a Jewish family could have at most perhaps only two children, so they settled in Slovakia. In their case it was a necessity, as they had a terribly large number of children! So my father used to crack jokes on this subject, though it was actually no joke, it was reality - when people asked him how it was possible that all those Hexners were one and the same family, he answered, 'It's like this: once there was this Hexner and he had twelve sons, each of those sons also had twelve sons, and those also twelve, twelve and twelve sons, and all of them are my relatives...' But I guess there's some truth to it, because the Hexners really were very numerous. Unfortunately, most of these relatives of mine died during the war in concentration camps, all of my cousins, aunts and uncles... I know of just one great-great-uncle, Erwin Paul Hexner, who immigrated to America and became a famous economist. From this whole large, branching family, only this one uncle survived.

It was said that my paternal great-great-grandfather, who had lived at the beginning of the 18th century in Betlanovce under the Tatras, had been a strong and handsome man. They say that once he was driving home some barrels of beer, and took a shortcut through the forest. In the forest he was ambushed and stopped by boys belonging to Janosik's band of outlaws 4, who wanted to take his beer. But he defended himself so handily that Janosik gave him a chance. He told him that if he managed to lift a 50- liter barrel of beer above his head, he could keep it. My great-great- grandfather managed it with ease, thanks to which Janosik took such a liking to him that he made him a part of his eleven-member band.

In the family it was handed down that when the outlaw Janosik was executed, it wasn't as it's commonly thought that his outlaws divided the money among the poor. Reputedly they divided the money among themselves. Thanks to this, my great-great-grandfather became a very rich man, and upon his return home he bought up the entire village, starting with the Catholic Church and ending with the Betlanovce renaissance chateau.

Betlanovce was a small town, where Grandma and Grandpa had a small general store. Grandma and Grandpa had a farm that they worked on. There was no synagogue in Betlanovce, or in the surrounding villages, so my grandparents decided to have one built. They initiated and financed its construction, so thanks to them there's a synagogue in Betlanovce. I figure this was probably sometime during the 1920s.

Jewish customs were observed in the family of my paternal grandparents; they cooked kosher food 5, separated their dishes for various foods and holidays, attended synagogue, and lived an Orthodox 6 lifestyle. I was a child, so I don't remember any details that clearly, but I do remember that my cousins, sister and I were always at my grandparents' during summer holidays, and had the opportunity to familiarize ourselves with true Jewish sentiments. We were still kids, so we often got things wrong, and then Grandma and Grandpa had to correct our mistakes, so I remember that we had to stick knives into the ground, where they had to stay for several days so everything would be ritually clean again.

Unfortunately, the idyllic summer vacations and carefree childhood at my grandma and grandpa's ended when I was eight. The Slovak State began, all those horrors and the persecution of Jews 7, and we stopped going to see our grandma and grandpa. Our parents had other worries, they had to worry about what to do, to hide whom where, how to survive. Starting at age eight, I was never in Betlanovce again. My father's entire family died in concentration camps. My father managed to save Grandma from the transport, he hid her in Bratislava until 1944, but in the end the transport didn't miss her, and she died in Auschwitz. I don't know the details of Grandma's hiding and subsequent arrest, I was too small to remember it; what's more, for a long time after the war, I had no desire to talk to anyone about wartime events.

My father was named Dezider Silberstein, and was born in Betlanovce in 1894. As a child he attended Jewish elementary school, but as an adult he no longer followed Jewish customs. My father wanted to become a farmer, and his brother Filip was supposed to go study. But Uncle Filip was a bad student, so their parents decided that he'd run the farm, and because my father on the contrary was a very good student, his parents sent him to school, although he would have preferred to be a farmer. He registered for medicine and became a doctor.

My father was the merriest person in the world. He liked to play various jokes; life with him was one big laugh. Unfortunately, after the Slovak State broke out, life was no longer very much fun. I remember one funny story, when as a joke, my father told me that an incredibly fat person was coming to our place for a visit, and that we had to prepare for it. He claimed that the man was so incredibly fat, that he wouldn't even fit through a set of double doors, and that he'd have to squeeze through them sideways. He also told me that we'd have to wash all our washbasins and pails, because we were going to be serving him food and drink in them. I was then terribly disappointed when that person arrived. He was very fat, but had no problems at all walking through the door, and what's more, he ate from a plate like everyone else at the table.

My father was very kind, for example once before Christmas he took me by the hand and led me to the couch in the living room. For a few seconds he took out from behind it a well-hidden doll, for which I had been yearning for a terribly long time. He told me that I'd get it for Christmas, but for me to forget about it again for a while, and mainly for me to not tell my mother.

I don't remember my mother's parents, neither Grandma Janka Löwyova, née Neumannova, nor Grandpa Emanuel Löwy, as they died before I was born. They're buried at the Jewish cemetery in Nitra. I know little about them; they were farmers in Nitra and had six sons and five daughters. When they grew up, they all lived around Nitra in southern Slovakia, and some of the sisters lived in Prievidze.

From what I've heard, I know that my mother's brothers, so my uncles, were extremely merry people. Of my five uncles, only one got married, the rest were bachelors and lived at the expense of their sisters. During the summer my uncles worked on the farm, and during the winter they then lived a profligate lifestyle, and played cards at the casino in Monte Carlo. They lived like counts, but they weren't counts - they weren't all that rich, and neither did they have the kind of property to be able to afford such a luxurious lifestyle, so then their sisters' husbands had to pay off their debts. Because my aunts had married into rich families, their husbands paid the debts of these uncles of mine, so as not to cast the family in a bad light. They were definitely merry, forthright and profligate people! My uncles used to organize various hunts, trips into the countryside, they played cards for money, invited Gypsy bands to play at parties, there was no shortage of fun. But with the coming of war, this all unfortunately soon ended.

I used to like going to my relatives' during summer vacation, and used to have various adventures there, for example my uncle let one of my cousins drive an expensive car, and I accompanied him. Or once, when one of my uncles had been winning all night at cards at a party, he stuck a 500 crown note to my forehead, which back then was a lot of money, especially for me, a six-year-old girl! [Editor's note: In 1929 it was decreed by law that the Czechoslovak crown (Kc), as the Czechoslovak unit of currency, was equal in value to 44.58 mg of gold.]

One uncle, Jackie, was a violin virtuoso, and a very sociable person, an enchanting beau and seducer of women. Another uncle, Maxi bacsi [Hungarian for Uncle Max] decided to leave for America at the age of 15. He took with him part of his inheritance, and crossed the ocean. There he used his fortune to buy the Buffalo Bill Circus. Years later, when he returned to his native village, he brought with him his American wife, Paula, a horse and buggy, and a lasso, with which he roped the children in the courtyard. We had lots of laughs and fun with him.

Another uncle for a change decided to go to Chile. He was a big hotshot, somewhat frivolous, and yearned for adventure. Before he left, he had a lot of expensive, fashionable suits custom-made. When he left, his relatives got the bills for all this finery, and had to pay them.

My mother, Pavla Silbersteinova, née Löwyova, was born in 1898 in Nitra, and was the ninth of eleven children. She apparently attended Jewish elementary school, but as an adult, in her marriage, she didn't keep Jewish customs. My mother was the first girl in Nitra to graduate from high school. She couldn't even attend school, but studied privately at home, and then took the exams. The she went to study medicine, which in those days was absolutely exceptional, for a woman to go study like this. She became a doctor. I don't know where or how my parents actually met, but I think that probably in medical circles, as both my father and mother were doctors.

Growing up">Growing up

In childhood I played with all children, Jewish and non-Jewish. There was no need to set them apart. There's this general sort of Christian notion, that Jews are somehow incredibly close and support each other, but in my view this isn't true at all. It's true that after the war, there were organizations that helped refugees, such as for example Joint 8. But in my view, the situation today is different. Certainly, if you decide to immigrate to Israel, it's not the case that you'll have an advantage because you're a Jew.

Today, when I'm unfortunately already 75, I think that I'm a witness to times long gone. Both my parents were Jews, but the religious side of things wasn't observed much in our family. We already lived in a non- religious way. We lived in Bratislava on Stefanikova Street, in a beautiful five-room apartment. My sister and I had a Christian nanny. Our father was a well-known doctor, and had his practice in the same building. Curiously enough, the apartment we used to live in is now occupied by Slovak Police, so when I was renewing my ID a couple of years ago, I went to our apartment to pick up my documents! When the harassment and persecution of Jews began, I was small, but I remember that my father had to have a sign at his practice where it was written that he was a Jew. We also had to wear a yellow star 9 sewed to our clothing.

During the war">During the war

During the war, my mother and father hid with some people they knew. At one time before the war, my father had as a patient one Count Palffy, from a very well-known aristocratic family. The two of them had an agreement that if the Russians came, my father would hide Palffy and his family, and if on the other hand the Germans came to Slovakia, Palffy would hide our family. Palffy really did hide our father; in the beginning they also hid Grandma. Mother and Father were at Palffy's place for about three months, but he then decided to emigrate, packed up all his property, paintings and valuables, and left the country with his entire family.

Then my mother and father hid somewhere else. When the Slovak National Uprising 10 broke out in 1944, someone informed on Grandma and they transported her to a concentration camp. I don't know exactly where and with whom my parents lived during the war. After the war, I never discussed it with them. I myself didn't want to talk about what I'd lived through and seen in the concentration camp. I didn't have the least desire to return to those wartime experiences, and that's why I didn't talk to my parents about what they did during the war and how and where they lived, either.

My sister and I were in a different place, our father hid us there, with reliable people he thought, but they actually ratted on us and my sister and I ended up in a concentration camp. Our parents had no idea that they'd nabbed my sister and me and dragged us off to Sered and subsequently to Auschwitz. Those people ratted on us, but kept taking money from our father for purportedly concealing us. During the whole war, my sister and I didn't know either what our family was doing, whether they were even alive.

My sister, Anna, and I ended up in the Sered collection camp, where we were for about a week. Sered was a transfer camp before the trip to the concentration camps, I'd compare it to Terezin 11. After a week in Sered, we were transported to Auschwitz. I arrived there in 1944, when I was 13. To this day, I've still got a number tattooed on my forearm. I think that my sister and I were there for about a month.

After some time spent in Auschwitz, a selection took place, more precisely they were picking people for work in some distant factory. They said for everyone between the ages of 16 and 25 to step forward. It seemed to me to be a good age, so that it would probably be advantageous for me to apply, even though I was only 13 at the time. I stepped forward, but they threw me out, saying that I didn't belong. They left my sister with them, she was 15, and seemed to be satisfactory to them.

I began crying, and suddenly something like a miracle happened. Suddenly my distant cousin, who'd already been in Auschwitz since 1942, appeared. When she noticed the fuss I was making, she took me aside during an unguarded moment so that no one would notice me. She knew that if I cried and made a fuss I'd draw attention to myself, and so had no choice but to calm me down - she gave me such a cuff to the head that I saw stars, and it gave me such a fright that I immediately calmed down.

When the selection ended, my cousin unobtrusively mixed me in with those selected for work. By doing this she saved my life! And so thanks to her, I got into the Hohenelbe work camp, today Vrchlabi in Czech. Each person that survived a concentration camp survived, one could say, due to some miracle. It was a big life lottery, who survives and who doesn't survive, a string of the most varied coincidences. I think that due to the Holocaust, the world lost many geniuses, artists, inventors, and smart and interesting people, because six million people is a terribly immense loss.

There weren't only Jews in the Vrchlabi work camp, there were other nationalities as well, but the Jews had it the worst. In Vrchlabi we worked in the Lohenswerke factory; we manufactured radio tubes, weapons and all sorts of other things. Apparently towards the end of the war the Germans had a problem, because they had many people at the front, and so needed a lot of workers. I spent almost nine months in concentration camps, from September 1944 to May 1945.

Post-war">Post-war

In Vrchlabi my sister and I experienced the liberation. The Germans that had been guarding us there suddenly disappeared. About two days later the Russians came; with the Russian army came liberation. In a festive manner they put us on a train and were shooting salvos in the air; it was big celebration. Our train was overfull, so after about 40 kilometers it couldn't go on, and broke down. So we went on a train that had these boards attached to it, which we held on to, we held on to the windows, then we even sat on the roofs of the rail cars. My sister and I also had to walk part of the way. So in this adventurous fashion we made it to Bratislava after about a week's travels. When we arrived, we didn't know where we should go, so we went to our parents' friends. They knew that our parents had survived the war, so took us to them.

Of our family, only our parents, my sister and I survived. Otherwise all our other relatives died in concentration camps, except for my one great- great-uncle, Hexner, the economist who had immigrated to America. After the war my father returned to his medical practice. He died in 1961. My mother died in 1947 of a heart attack. After the war, my sister graduated from business academy, met a young man from Prague and moved to Czech; she married that young man, Mr. Engelsmann, and lives in Prague.

After the war I began attending school, but I didn't enjoy it much. I was almost 14 years old when I returned from the concentration camps. Everything in school and the cares and worries of my contemporaries seemed to me to be terribly trivial in comparison with what I had experienced during those months during the war. I said to myself that I wanted to do something worthwhile in life, to really work, and I didn't much care what it was, as long as it wasn't school. I was making up my mind between becoming a dental technician or a photographer. The life of an apprentice seemed to be very interesting to me, so I decided to become a photographer.

A little ways away from where we lived in Bratislava, at Na Palisadach, they opened an applied arts high school, which seemed to me to be very close to what I wanted to do. So I decided to study applied arts. The school was very well led. They accepted everyone, and then after three years the less capable ones got a vocational certificate, and the more capable ones could continue on and graduate. I identified more with the 'incapable' ones, and wanted to leave, while they were trying to convince me to stay, that school is the best time of your life, but I wanted to already go and work.

I remember saying to myself that it's possible that your school years are the most beautiful time of your life, but how is it then possible for life to be so boring? Is life really so uninteresting, that this horrific school is the best that will meet me in life? I couldn't reconcile myself with this idea, so I left school. I began to truly work, I started working at the film studios in Bratislava, and suddenly I realized that life isn't that boring! I enjoyed my work, and I'm a photographer to this day. I do what I really enjoy.

When the state of Israel was founded in 1948 12, I considered whether I shouldn't emigrate. Even before the war, my parents had considered us leaving for Palestine, as many of our friends and acquaintances had gone. One thing is to consider something, but the important thing is always what one really decides and what he does; we didn't decide to emigrate, and didn't leave. I've visited Israel about ten times. The first time I was there was after the revolution in 1989 13, back then Czechoslovakia didn't have an ambassador in Israel yet. President Vaclav Havel 14 arranged a special military flight, three planes in all, with a few of his friends and his personal guests, so I also flew with them.

I married the writer Jan Minac; my husband wasn't of Jewish origin. He was the brother of the famous Slovak writer Vladimir Minac. [Vladimir Minac (1922 - 1966): Slovak author of prose, essayist, scriptwriter, publicist, cultural and political figure] My husband and I met at a Youth Union meeting. At that time they were telling us that we all had to know Marxism. I had no desire at all to read those Marxist books! I found out that Jan was a soccer player who had a hemorrhage in his knee, and so was working in the library. I said to myself that instead of me reading those horrific books myself, it would be better for him to explain it to me. And so it happened that we began going out together, and in 1951 we got married.

When I got married, my husband and I had no place to live, so we sublet from one lady whose husband was being prosecuted in the communist show trials 15. With her we lived through all those horrors, the interrogations, the StB 16 used to visit her, it wasn't pleasant at all. I never fell for the Communist ideology, I think that I saw through Communism quite quickly. I was never a member of any party, and neither was my father ever in any party. There were a lot of people who fell for those Communist ideas, they believed the ideology, but that was never the case with me.

I've got to say that I never met up with prominent anti-Semitism, as our family didn't live in any religious fashion, we lived in Bratislava and my father was a respected doctor. He had both Jewish and non-Jewish clients, our neighbors liked him, he associated with acquaintances and doctors who weren't Jewish. We never had any problems with anti-Semitism, except for when the Slovak State broke out, then various measures against Jews arrived, but I was little, I was eight, so I didn't notice it that much.

I've got two sons. The older one, Jan, was born in 1953, and lives with his family in Canada, where he's a math professor at university. My younger son, Matej, was born in 1961, graduated from the Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts in Bratislava, and became a movie director. Matej makes both fictional and documentary movies.

It's peculiar, that although I never particularly led my sons towards Judaism, both of them are interested in it, and today know more about Judaism than perhaps even I do. I told them a few little things on the occasion of the Israeli war in 1967 17. I myself didn't want to return to the events of the war in my memories, I myself don't even watch any war movies, I don't participate in memorial events on the anniversary of the liberation, these themes upset me, and I don't want to recall it at all.

I moved to the Czech Republic in 1993, so at a relatively advanced age. It was actually a bit of foolishness and courage at the same time, that at a ripe old age I decided to live in a 'foreign' country. But my leaving Slovakia was motivated by the sentiments that began to develop there after the division of Czechoslovakia. Nationalist sentiments began developing, where I again saw the Slovak insignia and enthusiasm for Tiso 18; I didn't want to have to watch it any more, and to again be subject to those nationalist sentiments. I decided to leave for the Czech Republic. Today it's subsided a bit, but after the revolution in 1989, there was huge enthusiasm in Slovakia for the Slovak fascist state.

In 1996, at the age of 65, I decided to renew my old family album. In the chaos of World War II, I had lost most of my family photographs, and so I came upon the idea of reconstructing the album with the help of my friends and relatives, who became my models. Thus the publication 'Rekonstrukce rodinneho alba' [The Reconstruction of a Family Album] came about. Most of my relatives died in concentration camps during the war, not leaving behind even one photograph or memento; they were perpetuated only in my memories, and so it occurred to me to bring them to life through photography.

Thanks to the art of photography, to which I've devoted myself my whole life, one can stop time for a while and conjure up something that has faded over time. My family helped me: my son Matej played my father, Dezider Silberstein, and Matej's wife Karin played my mother, Pavlina Silbersteinova. My friends, actors and directors, posed as my uncles, aunts and cousins. While taking the photographs, I actually for the first time told my son Matej various family anecdotes, funny stories as well as personal tragedies. Matej decided to make a movie about our family.

My son, Matej Minac, makes movies on the subject of World War II and the Holocaust. He decided to make a movie about our family, as I was telling him various tragic stories about merry people. However, our family's tale was sad through and through, and so Matej was looking for something positive, so that the film would also contain a bit of hope. He read all sorts of books about the Holocaust, he scanned through all sorts of books in the library of the Jewish Museum in Prague, when one day he came upon the book 'Perlicky detstvi' [Pearls of Childhood] by Vera Gissingova. He was very captivated by her story, where she describes how as an 11-year-old girl she escaped the horrors of war and the certain transport towards death that Jews in a Europe gripped by Nazism were sentenced to.

Vera Gissingova writes: "We were a very diverse group of children, who had only one thing in common: we'd all escaped from Nazi-occupied Czechoslovakia. Some children escaped with their parents, but many, I among them, arrived alone, on a children's train transport. The fact that we managed to escape was mainly the doing of one man - a then 30-year-old stockbroker from London, Nicholas Winton 19..."

Thus thanks to Nicholas Winton's effort, 11-year-old Vera Gissingova was saved, while her parents, who remained in Czechoslovakia, were subsequently murdered in concentration camps. When my son Matej read this, he decided that he'd shoot a movie that would be based on my memories, but would also include the story of a boy who was saved thanks to Nicholas Winton's effort.

When he gave his treatment to one lady for translation, he found out from her that she herself was one of the children that was saved in this way. He became very captivated by the story, and decided to search for the other children that Winton had saved, 669 in all, and for Winton himself. He was immensely surprised to find out that Winton was still alive, and living in Maidenhead, near London. He contacted him and arranged a meeting.

In February 1998 he visited him at his home in England; Winton was very nice to him; with his typical English humor he dispassionately told him about his life, his family and grandchildren, about his interest in the opera he attended, though at that time he was almost 90. Matej was enthralled by Winton, and decided that he wouldn't make only a fictional film inspired by my life, but would also make a documentary about this remarkable man. And so came about a documentary film about Nicholas Winton, entitled 'Sila Lidskosti' [The Power of Good], which among other prominent awards, was given in 2002 an international Emmy for the best non-American documentary. It is narrated by Joe Schlesinger, a Canadian reporter working for the CBS TV station, who is also one of 'Winton's children.'

The documentary describes how Nicholas Winton, born on 19th May 1909 in Britain, where he became a clerk and stockbroker, decided in 1939 to save Czech and Slovak children. Out of modesty, Winton adds that he was only in the right place at the right time, and that everyone would have done the same as he. But that's not the way it was; he was the only one. As my son, Matej Minac, writes in his book, 'The Lottery of Nicholas Winton's Life: Following the trail of a unique endeavor to save children, unique in modern history.': This I couldn't understand. Why didn't he want to talk about it? Why was he pretending that people do this as a matter of course, and that it's utterly common? After all, he's an experienced and intelligent person, and must know that he behaved in a completely exceptional fashion. Thus I was presented with a great mystery, which I wanted to solve at all costs. I couldn't wait to start on the documentary. I was hoping that during my work on the film, I'd find answers to my questions: Why did this person do this in the first place? Why did he keep silent about it for a half century? How did he actually do it? (....) Not even in the Prague of 1939 was he indifferent to the grave situation of endangered Czech and Slovak children. He didn't allow himself to be discouraged by people who reminded him that he had neither the finances nor the time to save the children, and that neither would the Gestapo allow it. What's more, what democratic country would even be willing to accept these children! But they didn't know Winton, whose motto was: "IT'S IMPOSSIBLE - is not an answer!"

Nicholas Winton never talked about his activities in Czechoslovakia; not even his wife had any clue that during the war her husband had saved 669 children from the gas chambers. In 1988, Nicholas's wife, Grete Winton, decided to undertake a thorough housecleaning. When she began tidying the attic, she found an old suitcase. She opened it, and found in it a pile of documents. In the suitcase she found old documents, letters and photographs. She began to go through the documents, but didn't understand them, as they were written in a language foreign to her. By the diacritical markings above the letters, she judged that they were apparently written in some Slavic language; due to the word Prague, she finally decided that the documents were connected with Czechoslovakia. When she asked her husband what all those forms, photographs and letters were supposed to mean, he brushed her off by saying that it was ancient history. Grete was very surprised to find out that her husband had saved so many children from death during the war.

In the suitcase she also found a list of the names of all 669 children, and she found letters where the children's parents for example wrote how to care for their progeny abroad, what they liked, what was bad for them. She gathered that the children's parents likely didn't survive, but that these letters should find their way into the hands of those that they belonged to, that is, the children that had been saved. Grete approached various museums, whether they wouldn't be interested in the documents; she finally succeeded at the Yad Vashem Memorial 20 to the Victims of the Holocaust in Israel, where they were finally stored.

Not even 'Winton's children' had any idea who had been responsible for saving their lives. On official forms, there was only the name of some organization called the 'British Committee for Refugees from Czechoslovakia - Children's section,' which Winton had founded for appearance's sake, but no one knew anything more about it. So Winton's wife, Grete, turned to a British Holocaust expert, Elizabeth Maxwell, who decided to write letters to all 669 addresses of the families that had adopted children from Winton's list. She received 150 replies, and managed to get in touch with sixty of 'Winton's children.' None of them of course knew their savior, and they very much wanted to meet him.

In cooperation with the British BBC television station, Mrs. Maxwell discovered additional 'Winton's children.' As my son writes in his book, 'The Lottery of Nicholas Winton's Life: Following the trail of a unique endeavor to save children, unique in modern history.': "It occurred to the host of the program "That's Life", Esther Rantzen, to invite Winton and the children he'd saved into the studio. She however didn't tell anyone what was going to happen. Winton was under the impression that it was going to be a program about active old age, and that they'd invited him due to his extensive charity work, as he had built several senior citizens' centers around London. One of these is named after him - Winton House. But during the program, it became apparent that the audience around him were people whose life he'd once saved. Few were able to resist the huge wave of emotion that followed. Winton began weeping, and so did everyone around him. People watching the program were moved as well. The first person to be introduced to him was the writer Vera Gissingova. For years, she had been trying to find out who had been responsible for saving her, she had approached various refugee organizations, and had even written the Archbishop of Canterbury, but all had been in vain. And suddenly, there she was, sitting beside her savior! It was the most moving moment of her life. Right during that time, she was publishing her memoirs, and wrote five paragraphs about Nicholas Winton in the introduction."

Matej set out for the Yad Vashem archive, and examined all surviving documents about Winton's activities. There he found a scrapbook put together during the war by Winton's secretary, Barbara Wilson, who as a volunteer had helped him in his London office, opened by Winton after his return from Prague in 1939. Nicholas, his secretary and Nicholas's mother formed a three-member team that began organizing the rescue of Czechoslovak children. This team put together a list of countries that might be willing to accept the children and place them with foster families; they even approached the president of the United States of America, Theodore Roosevelt. He replied courteously, but with the postscript that currently the laws of his country do not allow any such an undertaking. Thus the only refuge remaining for children from Czechoslovak families was Britain.

Winton had brought with him from Prague a list of the most endangered children, which contained thousands of names. Parents had sent him photos of their children, the photos were glued to cards and accompanied by information about the children's abilities, interests and skills. He then sent the cards out all over Britain, offered them to refugee organizations, everyone who could help in some fashion. And so they managed to place children into many varied and sundry families and households; mostly they were taken in by good people.

The first train of children departed Wilson Station in Prague for England on 14th April 1939, the day before the German occupation of Bohemia. Subsequently up to 2nd August 1939 there were another seven trains dispatched. Nicholas Winton managed to secure the emigration of a total of 669 children from occupied Bohemia and Moravia 21, and from the Slovak State. The last transport of 251 children was supposed to leave Prague on 1st September 1939. The parents and all 251 children arrived at Wilson Station on 1st September. There were already 251 families ready in London that had promised to take them in. The departure was prepared, the children were already sitting in their seats on the train, their parents were weeping, but were hoping that sending the children to England was for their good. But the train never started. World War II broke out, and suddenly everything was off. The children had to get off, and no one ever heard of them again; they ended their lives in concentration camps.

At the National Archives in Washington, Matej managed to find period footage that some American news crew had shot at Wilson Station in 1939. The footage shows the 29-year-old Winton together with the children and their parents. Up until then, the employees of the archive had no idea what the footage contained, because it had remained in the archive, unedited, for the entire sixty years. It has never been shown, because right after it was shot, war broke out in Europe, and movie screens were flooded with the latest footage from the battlefield. My son Matej was its first viewer. He thus came by authentic materials which he could use in his documentary about Winton's 'Power of Good.'

Matej is preparing to shoot a continuation of the film about Winton's life, and Winton is supposed to come to Prague along with his children and grandchildren. Even though he's already 97, he's in excellent physical and mental condition, and is preparing to visit an observatory with Matej, because in the year 2000 Czech astronomers named a planetoid they'd discovered in Winton's honor.

In 1999 my son Matej made a movie entitled 'Vsichni moji blizci' ['All My Loved Ones']. The theme was based on my childhood memories, but as the story of my childhood seemed to him to be too sad, he incorporated Winton's rescue operation into the plot. Winton, who came to Prague for the film's premiere, very much liked the picture. The movie was shown at sixty prestigious international festivals, and received a number of awards; among others, it was also submitted to the Academy Awards for the Slovak Republic in the foreign film category.

Glossary">Glossary

1 Slovak State (1939-1945)

Czechoslovakia, which was created after the disintegration of Austria-Hungary, lasted until it was broken up by the Munich Pact of 1938; Slovakia became a separate (autonomous) republic on 6th October 1938 with Jozef Tiso as Slovak PM. Becoming suspicious of the Slovakian moves to gain independence, the Prague government applied martial law and deposed Tiso at the beginning of March 1939, replacing him with Karol Sidor. Slovakian personalities appealed to Hitler, who used this appeal as a pretext for making Bohemia, Moravia and Silesia a German protectorate. On 14th March 1939 the Slovak Diet declared the independence of Slovakia, which in fact was a nominal one, tightly controlled by Nazi Germany.

2 Sered labor camp

created in 1941 as a Jewish labor camp. The camp functioned until the beginning of the Slovak National Uprising, when it was dissolved. At the beginning of September 1944 its activities were renewed and deportations began. Due to the deportations, SS-Hauptsturmführer Alois Brunner was named camp commander at the end of September. Brunner was a long-time colleague of Adolf Eichmann and had already organized the deportation of French Jews in 1943. Because the camp registers were destroyed, the most trustworthy information regarding the number of deportees has been provided by witnesses who worked with prisoner records. According to this information, from September 1944 until the end of March 1945, 11 transports containing 11,532 persons were dispatched from the Sered camp. Up until the end of November 1944 the transports were destined for the Auschwitz concentration camp, later prisoners were transported to other camps in the Reich. The Sered camp was liquidated on 31st March 1945, when the last evacuation transport, destined for the Terezin ghetto, was dispatched. On this transport also departed the commander of the Sered camp, Alois Brunner.

3 Expulsion of the Jews from Spain

In the 13th century, after a period of stimulating spiritual and cultural life, the economic development and wide-range internal autonomy obtained by the Jewish communities in the previous centuries was curtailed by anti-Jewish repression emerging from under the aegis of the Dominican and the Franciscan orders. There were more and more false blood libels, and the polemics, which were opportunities for interchange of views between the Christian and the Jewish intellectuals before, gradually condemned the Jews more and more, and the middle class in the rising started to be hostile with the competitor. The Jews were gradually marginalized. Following the pogrom of Seville in 1391, thousands of Jews were massacred throughout Spain, women and children were sold as slaves, and synagogues were transformed into churches. Many Jews were forced to leave their faith. About 100,000 Jews were forcibly converted between 1391 and 1412. The Spanish Inquisition began to operate in 1481 with the aim of exterminating the supposed heresy of new Christians, who were accused of secretly practicing the Jewish faith. In 1492 a royal order was issued to expel resisting Jews in the hope that if old co-religionists would be removed new Christians would be strengthened in their faith. At the end of July 1492 even the last Jews left Spain, who openly professed their faith. The number of the displaced is estimated to lie between 100,000-150,000. (Source: Jean-Christophe Attias - Esther Benbassa: Dictionnaire de civilisation juive, Paris, 1997)

4 Janosik, Juraj (1688-1713)

Slovak folk hero. He was a serf in the Fatra mountains in Upper Hungary (today Slovakia) and became an outcast. According to legend he robbed rich noblemen and townsmen and gave the haul to the poor. Janosik participated in the Rakoczy uprising against the Habsburgs (1703-11). He joined a unit of irregulars and after the suppression of the revolt they became mountain robbers. He was caught by Lipto county authorities and executed in Liptoszentmiklos (today Liptovsky Mikulas). Janosik is the hero of many Slovak folk tales and legends and also celebrated in folk songs. 5 Kashrut in eating habits: Kashrut means ritual behavior. A term indicating the religious validity of some object or article according to Jewish law, mainly in the case of foodstuffs. Biblical law dictates which living creatures are allowed to be eaten. The use of blood is strictly forbidden. The method of slaughter is prescribed, the so-called shechitah. The main rule of kashrut is the prohibition of eating dairy and meat products at the same time, even when they weren't cooked together. The time interval between eating foods differs. On the territory of Slovakia six hours must pass between the eating of a meat and dairy product. In the opposite case, when a dairy product is eaten first and then a meat product, the time interval is different. In some Jewish communities it is sufficient to wash out one's mouth with water. The longest time interval was three hours - for example in Orthodox communities in Southwestern Slovakia.

6 Orthodox communities

The traditionalist Jewish communities founded their own Orthodox organizations after the Universal Meeting in 1868- 1869.They organized their life according to Judaist principles and opposed to assimilative aspirations. The community leaders were the rabbis. The statute of their communities was sanctioned by the king in 1871. In the western part of Hungary the communities of the German and Slovakian immigrants' descendants were formed according to the Western Orthodox principles. At the same time in the East, among the Jews of Galician origins the 'eastern' type of Orthodoxy was formed; there the Hassidism prevailed. In time the Western Orthodoxy also spread over to the eastern part of Hungary. In 1896, there were 294 Orthodox mother-communities and 1,001 subsidiary communities registered all over Hungary, mainly in Transylvania and in the north-eastern part of the country,. In 1930, the 136 mother-communities and 300 subsidiary communities made up 30.4 percent of all Hungarian Jews. This number increased to 535 Orthodox communities in 1944, including 242,059 believers (46 percent).

7 Jewish Codex

Order no. 198 of the Slovakian government, issued in September 1941, on the legal status of the Jews, went down in history as Jewish Codex. Based on the Nuremberg Laws, it was one of the most stringent and inhuman anti-Jewish laws all over Europe. It paraphrased the Jewish issue on a racial basis, religious considerations were fading into the background; categories of Jew, Half Jew, moreover 'Mixture' were specified by it. The majority of the 270 paragraphs dealt with the transfer of Jewish property (so-called Aryanizing; replacing Jews by non-Jews) and the exclusion of Jews from economic, political and public life.

8 Joint (American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee)

The Joint was formed in 1914 with the fusion of three American Jewish committees of assistance, which were alarmed by the suffering of Jews during World War I. In late 1944, the Joint entered Europe's liberated areas and organized a massive relief operation. It provided food for Jewish survivors all over Europe, it supplied clothing, books and school supplies for children. It supported cultural amenities and brought religious supplies for the Jewish communities. The Joint also operated DP camps, in which it organized retraining programs to help people learn trades that would enable them to earn a living, while its cultural and religious activities helped re- establish Jewish life. The Joint was also closely involved in helping Jews to emigrate from Europe and from Muslim countries. The Joint was expelled from East Central Europe for decades during the Cold War and it has only come back to many of these countries after the fall of communism. Today the Joint provides social welfare programs for elderly Holocaust survivors and encourages Jewish renewal and communal development. 9 Yellow star in Slovakia: On 18th September 1941 an order passed by the Slovakian Minister of the Interior required all Jews to wear a clearly visible yellow star, at least 6 cm in diameter, on the left side of their clothing. After 20th October 1941 only stars issued by the Jewish Center were permitted. Children under the age of six, Jews married to non-Jews and their children if not of Jewish religion, were exempt, as well as those who had converted before 10th September 1941. Further exemptions were given to Jews who filled certain posts (civil servants, industrial executives, leaders of institutions and funds) and to those receiving reprieve from the state president. Exempted Jews were certified at the relevant constabulary authority. The order was valid from 22nd September 1941.

10 Slovak Uprising

At Christmas 1943 the Slovak National Council was formed, consisting of various oppositional groups (communists, social democrats, agrarians etc.). Their aim was to fight the Slovak fascist state. The uprising broke out in Banska Bystrica, central Slovakia, on 29th August 1944. On 18th October the Germans launched an offensive. A large part of the regular Slovak army joined the uprising and the Soviet Army also joined in. Nevertheless the Germans put down the riot and occupied Banska Bystrica on 27th October, but weren't able to stop the partisan activities. As the Soviet army was drawing closer many of the Slovak partisans joined them in Eastern Slovakia under either Soviet or Slovak command.

11 Terezin/Theresienstadt

A ghetto in the Czech Republic, run by the SS. Jews were transferred from there to various extermination camps. The Nazis, who presented Theresienstadt as a 'model Jewish settlement,' used it to camouflage the extermination of European Jews. Czech gendarmes served as ghetto guards, and with their help the Jews were able to maintain contact with the outside world. Although education was prohibited, regular classes were held, clandestinely. Thanks to the large number of artists, writers, and scholars in the ghetto, there was an intensive program of cultural activities. At the end of 1943, when word spread of what was happening in the Nazi camps, the Germans decided to allow an International Red Cross investigation committee to visit Theresienstadt. In preparation, more prisoners were deported to Auschwitz, in order to reduce congestion in the ghetto. Dummy stores, a café, a bank, kindergartens, a school, and flower gardens were put up to deceive the committee. 12 Creation of the State of Israel: From 1917 Palestine was a British mandate. Also in 1917 the Balfour Declaration was published, which supported the idea of the creation of a Jewish homeland in Palestine. Throughout the interwar period, Jews were migrating to Palestine, which caused the conflict with the local Arabs to escalate. On the other hand, British restrictions on immigration sparked increasing opposition to the mandate powers. Immediately after World War II there were increasing numbers of terrorist attacks designed to force Britain to recognize the right of the Jews to their own state. These aspirations provoked the hostile reaction of the Palestinian Arabs and the Arab states. In February 1947 the British foreign minister Ernest Bevin ceded the Palestinian mandate to the UN, which took the decision to divide Palestine into a Jewish section and an Arab section and to create an independent Jewish state. On 14th May 1948 David Ben Gurion proclaimed the creation of the State of Israel. It was recognized immediately by the US and the USSR. On the following day the armies of Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Iraq, Syria and Lebanon attacked Israel, starting a war that continued, with intermissions, until the beginning of 1949 and ended in a truce.

13 Velvet Revolution

Also known as November Events, this term is used for the period between 17th November and 29th December 1989, which resulted in the downfall of the Czechoslovak communist regime. A non-violent political revolution in Czechoslovakia that meant the transition from Communist dictatorship to democracy. The Velvet Revolution began with a police attack against Prague students on 17th November 1989. That same month the citizen's democratic movement Civic Forum (OF) in Czech and Public Against Violence (VPN) in Slovakia were formed. On 10th December a government of National Reconciliation was established, which started to realize democratic reforms. On 29th December Vaclav Havel was elected president. In June 1990 the first democratic elections since 1948 took place.

14 Havel, Vaclav (1936- )

Czech dramatist, poet and politician. Havel was an active figure in the liberalization movement leading to the Prague Spring, and after the Soviet-led intervention in 1968 he became a spokesman of the civil right movement called Charter 77. He was arrested for political reasons in 1977 and 1979. He became President of the Czech and Slovak Republic in 1989 and was President of the Czech Republic after the secession of Slovakia until January 2003.

15 Slansky trial

In the years 1948-1949 the Czechoslovak government together with the Soviet Union strongly supported the idea of the founding of a new state, Israel. Despite all efforts, Stalin's politics never found fertile ground in Israel; therefore the Arab states became objects of his interest. In the first place the Communists had to allay suspicions that they had supplied the Jewish state with arms. The Soviet leadership announced that arms shipments to Israel had been arranged by Zionists in Czechoslovakia. The times required that every Jew in Czechoslovakia be automatically considered a Zionist and cosmopolitan. In 1951 on the basis of a show trial, 14 defendants (eleven of them were Jews) with Rudolf Slansky, First Secretary of the Communist Party at the head were convicted. Eleven of the accused got the death penalty; three were sentenced to life imprisonment. The executions were carried out on 3rd December 1952. The Communist Party later finally admitted its mistakes in carrying out the trial and all those sentenced were socially and legally rehabilitated in 1963.

16 Statni Tajna Bezpecnost

Czech intelligence and security service founded in 1948.

17 Six-Day-War

(Hebrew: Milhemet Sheshet Hayamim), also known as the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, Six Days War, or June War, was fought between Israel and its Arab neighbors Egypt, Jordan, and Syria. It began when Israel launched a preemptive war on its Arab neighbors; by its end Israel controlled the Gaza Strip, the Sinai Peninsula, the West Bank, and the Golan Heights. The results of the war affect the geopolitics of the region to this day.

18 Tiso, Jozef (1887-1947)

Roman Catholic priest, clerical fascist, anticommunist politician. He was an ideologist and a political representative of Hlinka's Slovakian People's Party, and became its vice president in 1930 and president in 1938. In 1938-39 he became PM, and later president, of the fascist Slovakian puppet state which was established with German support. His policy plunged Slovakia into war against Poland and the Soviet Union, in alliance with Germany. He was fully responsible for crimes and atrocities committed under the clerical fascist regime. In 1947 he was found guilty as a war criminal, sentenced to death and executed.

19 Winton, Sir Nicholas (b

1909): A British broker and humanitarian worker, who in 1939 saved 669 Jewish children from the territory of the endangered Czechoslovakia from death by transporting them to Great Britain.

20 Yad Vashem

This museum, founded in 1953 in Jerusalem, honors both Holocaust martyrs and 'the Righteous Among the Nations', non-Jewish rescuers who have been recognized for their 'compassion, courage and morality'.

21 Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia

Bohemia and Moravia were occupied by the Germans and transformed into a German Protectorate in March 1939, after Slovakia declared its independence. The Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia was placed under the supervision of the Reich protector, Konstantin von Neurath. The Gestapo assumed police authority. Jews were dismissed from civil service and placed in an extralegal position. In the fall of 1941, the Reich adopted a more radical policy in the Protectorate. The Gestapo became very active in arrests and executions. The deportation of Jews to concentration camps was organized, and Terezin/Theresienstadt was turned into a ghetto for Jewish families. During the existence of the Protectorate the Jewish population of Bohemia and Moravia was virtually annihilated. After World War II the pre-1938 boundaries were restored, and most of the German-speaking population was expelled.

Zuzana Mináčová

Zuzana Mináčová
roz. Silbersteinová
Praha
Česká republika
Rozhovor pořídila: Dagmar Grešlová
Období vzniku rozhovoru: červenec 2006

Zuzana Mináčová (75) se narodila v Bratislavě v emancipované židovské lékařské rodině. Rodiče ji vychovávali nenáboženským způsobem, ovšem s ortodoxií se měla možnost setkat v rodině svých prarodičů v Betlanovcích, kam jezdila na prázdniny a zažívala různá dobrodružství. Idylické dětství Zuzany Mináčové bylo však záhy zpřetrháno – bylo jí teprve osm let, když vypukl Slovenský stát 1 a její rodina byla ze dne na den nucena čelit řadě restrikcí a perzekucí. Válku prožila zprvu se svou sestrou v úkrytu, po udání však byly obě odtransportovány do sběrného tábora Sereď 2, odtamtud do Osvětimi, po níž následoval ještě tábor nucených prací ve Vrchlabí. Osvobození zažila jakožto třináctileté děvče. Válečné události ji donutily předčasně dospět, po válce jí starosti jejích vrstevnic připadaly najednou cizí. Jak sama říká, nezajímaly jí starosti spolužaček ve škole, chtěla začít žít opravdovým životem, najít si práci a realizovat se. To se jí vyplnilo – stala se známou a úspěšnou fotografkou, v této profesi se realizuje dodnes. Zapojila se do takzvané „nové vlny“ šedesátých let, která rozšířila možnosti fotografického výrazu. Její tvorbu charakterizuje imaginace, filozofická kontemplace, poetická hra a experiment. Je autorkou fotografických cyklů Čas, Čekání, Souvislosti, Hra, Zastavení na cestě, Herecké portréty, Stromy. Téměř po šedesáti letech po druhé světové válce se Zuzana Mináčová rozhodla „obnovit“ svoje dětské rodinné album, o které přišla v chaosu druhé světové války. V roce 1996 se pustila do projektu „Rekonstrukce rodinného alba“, tedy zpřítomnění svého dětství skrze fotografii. Do projektu zapojila svého syna Matěje s rodinou a další své přátele a jiné známé osobnosti, kteří jí zpřítomnili vlastní příbuzné, o něž za války přišla, a po nichž jí nezůstaly žádné fotografie. Jelikož je sama známou fotografkou, rozhodla se rekonstruovat toto album sama na základě svých vzpomínek.

Rodina
Dětství
Za války
Po válce
Glosář

Rodina

Rodiče mého otce byli skutečně ortodoxní Židé, při návštěvách a na prázdninách, které jsem u nich trávívala, jsem měla možnost setkat se s náboženským životem. Babička se jmenovala Maria Silbersteinová, rozená Hexnerová, a dědeček se jmenoval Adolf Silberstein. Oba pocházeli z Betlanovců, což je vesnička blízko Tater v okrese Spišská Nová Ves. Babiččina rodina původně přišla ze Pyrenejského poloostrova. Když odtamtud byli na konci patnáctého století vyháněni Židé 3, odešli Hexnerovci ze Španělska. Chtěli se původně usadit v českých zemích, ale platil tu zákon, že židovská rodina může mít snad maximálně dvě děti, a tak se usadili na Slovensku. V jejich případě to bylo nutné, jelikož oni měli příšerně moc dětí! Takže můj tatínek na toto téma vtipkoval, ačkoliv to vlastně ani nebyl vtip, to byla realita – když se ho lidé ptali, jak je možné, že všichni ti Hexnerovi jsou jedna a tatáž rodina – tak odpovídal: „To bylo tak: byl jakýsi Hexner a ten měl dvanáct synů, každý ten syn měl zase dvanáct synů, a ti každý zase dvanáct, dvanáct a dvanáct synů, no a všichni ti jsou moji příbuzní…“ Ale asi na tom bude něco pravdy, protože Hexnerovi byli skutečně velmi početní. Bohužel, většina těchto mých příbuzných zahynula za války v koncentračních táborech, všechny moje setřenice, bratranci, tetičky a strýčkové… Vím akorát o jednom svém pra-prastrýčkovi Erwinovi Paulu Hexnerovi, který emigroval do Ameriky a stal se tam slavným ekonomem, dodnes se uděluje Hexnerova cena, která nese jeho jméno. Z celé početné rozvětvené rodiny se zachránil jenom tento strýček.

O mém prapradědečkovi z tatínkovy strany, který žil počátkem osmnáctého století v podtatranských Betlanovcích, se tradovalo, že to byl silný a krásný muž. Jednou prý takhle vezl domů sudy s pivem a zkrátil si cestu lesem. V lese ho překvapili a zastavili chlapci z Jánošíkovy zbojnické družiny 4 a chystali se mu jeho pivo sebrat. On se ovšem tak obratně bránil, a tak mu dal Jánošík šanci. Pravil mu, že když zvedne padesátilitrový sud plný piva nad hlavu, že si jej může nechat. Prapradědeček to s lehkostí dokázal, díky čemuž se Jánošíkovi tak zalíbil, že ho přijal do své jedenáctičlenné družiny. V rodině se tradovalo, že když byl zbojník Jánošík popraven, nebylo to tak, jak se obecně míní, že jeho zbojníci rozdělili peníze chudým. Údajně si peníze rozdělili mezi sebe. Díky tomu se prapradědeček stal velice bohatým člověkem a po návratu domů skoupil celou vesnici, katolickým kostelem počínaje a betlanovským renesančním zámečkem konče.

Betlanovce byly malá obec, kde babička s dědečkem měli obchůdek se smíšeným zbožím. Babička s dědečkem měli statek, na kterém pracovali. Ani v Betlanovcích, ani v okolních vesnicích nebyla synagoga, tak se ji rozhodli moji prarodiče nechat vystavět. Iniciovali stavbu a financovali ji, takže se zasloužili o to, že v Betlanovcích stojí synagoga. Počítám, že to mohlo být někdy ve dvacátých letech dvacátého století.

V rodině mých prarodičů z otcovy strany se dodržovaly židovské zvyky, vařila se košer strava 5, třídilo se nádobí na různé pokrmy a svátky, chodilo se do synagogy, praktikoval se ortodoxní 6 způsob života. Byla jsem dítě, takže na žádné konkrétní detaily si už příliš zřetelně nevzpomínám, ale pamatuji si, že jsme s bratranci, sestřenicemi či s mojí sestrou vždy u prarodičů byli přes prázdniny a měli jsme možnost se seznámit se skutečným židovským cítěním. Byly jsme ještě děti, takže jsme často něco popletly, a potom babička s dědečkem museli po nás chyby napravovat, takže si vzpomínám, že se musely strkat nože do země, které tam musely být několik dní, aby bylo vše zase rituálně čisté.

Bohužel, idylické prázdniny a bezstarostné dětství u babičky s dědečkem skončily, když mi bylo osm let. Začal Slovenský stát, přišly všechny ty hrůzy a pronásledování Židů 7, a my jsme přestali k babičce s dědečkem jezdit. Rodiče měli jiné starosti, museli řešit co dělat, koho kam ukrýt, jak se zachovat. Od osmi let jsem už v Betlanovcích nebyla. Celá otcova rodina zahynula v koncentračních táborech. Otcovi se podařilo babičku uchránit před transportem, skrýval ji do roku 1944 v Bratislavě, ale nakonec ji stejně transport neminul a zahynula v Osvětimi. Okolnosti babiččina skrývání a následného zatčení neznám, byla jsem moc malá, abych si to pamatovala, navíc po válce jsem se o válečných událostech velmi dlouhou dobu neměla vůbec chuť s nikým bavit.

Můj tatínek se jmenoval Dezider Silberstein, narodil se roku 1894 v Betlanovcích. Chodil jako dítě do základní židovské školy, ale pak v dospělosti už židovské zvyky nedodržoval. Tatínek se chtěl stát statkářem a jeho bratr Filip měl jít studovat. Ale strýček Filip se učil špatně, tak se rodiče rozhodli, že bude obhospodařovat statek, a protože můj tatínek se naopak učil velmi dobře, tak ho rodiče dali studovat, ačkoli on by raději statkařil. Zapsal se na medicínu a stal se lékařem. Můj tatínek byl nejveselejší člověk na světě. Rád dělal různé vtipy, byla s ním nesmírná legrace. Bohužel, po té co vypukl Slovenský stát, už život moc legrační nebyl. Vzpomínám si na jednu vtipnou historku, kdy mi tatínek z recese řekl, že k nám na návštěvu přijde strašně tlustý člověk, že se na to musíme připravit. Tvrdil, že ten pán je tak strašně tlustý, že neprojde ani dvoukřídlými dveřmi a bude se muset skrze ně protlačit bokem. Taky mi řekl, že budeme muset vymýt všechny lavory a kýble, jelikož mu do nich budeme servírovat jídlo a pití. Byla jsem pak hrozně zklamaná, když ten člověk přišel. Byl sice hodně tlustý, ale projít dveřmi mu nepůsobilo vůbec žádné problémy, a co víc, jedl z talíře jako všichni ostatní u stolu. Tatínek byl moc hodný, třeba jednou před Vánoci mě vzal za ruku a odvedl mě do pokoje ke gauči. Na pár vteřin z něj vyndal dobře uschovanou panenku, po které jsem už hrozně dlouho toužila. Řekl mi, že ji dostanu pod stromeček, ale ať na to koukám zase na chvíli ještě zapomenout, a hlavně ať to neprozradím mamince.

Na maminčiny rodiče, babičku Janku Löwyovou, rozenou Neumannovou, ani na dědečka Emanuela Löwyho si už nepamatuji, jelikož zemřeli ještě předtím, než jsem se narodila. Jsou pohřbeni na židovském hřbitově v Nitře. Vím o nich málo, byli statkáři v Nitře a měli šest synů a pět dcer. Když vyrostli, žili všichni okolo Nitry na jižním Slovensku, některé sestry žily v Prievidzi. Z doslechu vím, že maminčini bratři, tedy moji strýčkové byli nesmírně veselí lidé. Z pěti strýců se oženil jenom jeden, ostatní byli staří mládenci a žili na úkor svých sester. Strýcové v létě pracovali na statku a v zimě potom žili rozmařilým životem, hráli v kasinu v Monte Carlu. Žili si jako grófové, ale nebyli grófové – nebyli zase až tak bohatí a ani neměli takový majetek, aby si mohli takový přepychový život dovolit, takže potom museli manželé jejich sester za ně platit dluhy. Jelikož tety byly bohatě provdané, tak jejich manželé spláceli dluhy těchto strýčků, aby nebyla v rodině ostuda. Rozhodně to byli veselí, přímí a rozmařilí lidé! U strýců se odehrávaly různé hony, projížďky, hrály se karetní hry o peníze, zvali si cikánské kapely, aby jim k zábavě hrály, o zábavu nebyla nouze. Toto všechno ale bohužel s příchodem války brzy skončilo. Ráda jsem k příbuzným jezdila na prázdniny a zažívala jsem tam různá dobrodružství, například jednomu mému bratranci strýc dovolil řídit drahé auto a já jsem mu při tom dělala doprovod. Anebo jednou, když jeden ze strýčků při karetních hrách na večírku celou noc vyhrával, přilepil mi na čelo pětistovku [V r. 1929 bylo zákonem stanoveno, že koruna československá (Kč), jako dosavadní jednotka měny československé, je hodnotou rovna 44,58 miligramu zlata – pozn. red.], což tehdy byly velké peníze, zvlášť pro mne, šestiletou holku! Strýček Jackie byl zase houslovým virtuózem, byl velmi společenským člověkem, okouzlujícím elegánem a svůdcem žen. Jiný strýc, Maxi báči [maďarsky ujo Max – pozn. red.], se ve svých patnácti letech rozhodl odejít do Ameriky. Vzal si s sebou část svého dědictví a odjel za oceán. Tak si za své jmění koupil cirkus Buffalo Bill. Když se po letech vrátil do své rodné vesnice, přivezl si s sebou svoji americkou manželku Paulu, bryčku s koněm a laso, do něhož chytal děti na dvoře. Moc jsme se s ním nasmály a užily si legrace. Další strýček se pro změnu rozhodl odjet do Chile. Byl velký frajer, trochu lehkomyslný, toužil po dobrodružství. Před odjezdem si nechal ušít na míru spoustu drahých módních obleků. Když odjel, přišly příbuzným za celou tuto parádu účty, které za něj museli zaplatit.

Dětství

Moje maminka Pavla Silbersteinová, rozená Löwyová, se narodila v roce 1898 v Nitře a byla deváté z jedenácti dětí. Chodila zřejmě do základní židovské školy, ale v dospělosti, v manželství už židovské zvyky nedodržovala. Moje maminka byla první děvče, které v Nitře maturovalo. Nemohla ani chodit do školy, učila se soukromě doma a pak složila maturitu. Poté šla studovat medicínu, což v té době bylo něco naprosto výjimečné, aby žena šla takto studovat. Stala se lékařkou. Nevím, kde ani jak se vlastně moji rodiče seznámili, ale myslím, že zřejmě v lékařských kruzích, neboť tatínek i maminka byli lékaři.

V dětství jsem si hrála se všemi dětmi, židovskými i nežidovskými. Nebylo třeba rozlišovat. Obecně panuje jakási křesťanská představa, že Židé nějak nesmírně drží při sobě a že se navzájem podporují, ale podle mě to není vůbec pravda. Pravdou je, že po válce byly organizace, které pomáhaly uprchlíkům, jako například Joint 8. Ale dnes je situace podle mého názoru jiná. Rozhodně když se rozhodnete emigrovat do Izraele, tak neplatí, že proto, že jste Žid, budete mít nějaké výhody.

Dnes, když je mi, bohužel, už sedmdesát pět let, jsem, myslím, pamětníkem zašlých časů. Oba dva moji rodiče byli sice Židé, ale u nás v rodině se již náboženská stránka moc nedodržovala. Žili jsme už nenáboženským způsobem. Bydleli jsme v Bratislavě ve Štefánikově ulici v krásném pětipokojovém bytě. Měly jsme se sestrou křesťanskou chůvu. Otec byl známý lékař, provozoval svoji praxi ve stejném domě. Kuriózní je, že v bytě, kde jsme bydleli, je v současnosti sídlo Policie SR, takže když jsem si před pár lety vyřizovala občanský průkaz, šla jsem si vyzvednout doklady do našeho bytu! Když začalo pronásledování a perzekuce Židů, já jsem byla malá, ale vzpomínám si, že tatínek musel mít na ordinaci tabulku, kde stálo napsáno, že je Žid. Také jsme museli nosit žlutou hvězdu 9 přišitou na oblečení.

Za války

Tatínek s maminkou se přes válku skrývali u jedněch známých. Otec kdysi před válkou léčil jednoho grófa Pálffyho, což byla velice známá šlechtická rodina. Měli spolu takovou dohodu, že když přijdou Rusové, ukryje otec Pálffyho s rodinou, a v opačném případě, pokud na Slovensko přijdou Němci, že zase Pálffy ukryje naši rodinu. Pálffy otce skutečně ukryl, i babičku zprvu skrývali. Otec s maminkou byli u Pálffyho asi tři měsíce, ale ten se pak rozhodl emigrovat, sbalil si všechen majetek, obrazy a cennosti a odjel s celou rodinou do ciziny. Tatínek s maminkou potom tedy byli ukrytí někde jinde. Babičku, když v roce 1944 vypuklo Slovenské národní povstání 10, někdo udal a odtransportovali ji do koncentračního tábora. Nevím přesně kde všude a u koho rodiče za války žili. Já jsem se po válce o tom s nimi nikdy nebavila. Já sama jsem nechtěla hovořit o tom, co jsem v koncentračním táboře zažila a viděla. Neměla jsem ani nejmenší chuť vracet se ke všem těm válečným zážitkům, a proto jsem se ani s rodiči nebavila o tom, co oni za války dělali a jak a kde žili. My se sestrou jsme byly na jiném místě, otec nás tam ukryl, myslel si, že ke spolehlivým lidem, ale oni nás vlastně udali a já a sestra jsme se dostaly do koncentračního tábora. Za války jsme o sobě s rodiči navzájem nevěděli, byli jsme odděleni. Rodiče vůbec nevěděli, že mě a sestru sebrali a odvlekli do Seredi a následně do Osvětimi. Ti lidé nás udali, ale dále pobírali peníze od tatínka za to, že nás údajně skrývají. Ani my se sestrou jsme po celou dobu války nevěděly, co dělá naše rodina, jestli vůbec žijí.

Se sestrou, Annou, jsem se dostala do sběrného tábora v Seredi, kde jsme byly asi týden. Sereď byl přestupní tábor před cestou do koncentračních táborů, přirovnala bych ho k Terezínu 11. Po týdnu v Seredi jsme byly odtransportované do Osvětimi. Dostala jsem se tam v roce 1944, když mi bylo třináct let. Dodnes mám na předloktí vytetované číslo. Myslím, že jsme tam byly se sestrou asi měsíc. Po nějaké době strávené v Osvětimi přišla selekce, respektive vybírali lidi na práci do nějaké vzdálené továrny. Řekli nám, aby vystoupili z řady všichni, kterým je mezi šestnácti a pětadvaceti lety. Připadalo mi, že je to takový dobrý věk, takže bude asi výhodné, když se přihlásím, ačkoliv mi bylo teprve třináct. Vystoupila jsem, ale oni mě odtamtud vyhodili, že tam nepatřím. Sestru tam nechali, té bylo patnáct let a zdála se jim, že vyhovuje. Začala jsem plakat a najednou se stalo cosi jako zázrak. Najednou se tam objevila moje vzdálená sestřenice, která v Osvětimi byla už od roku 1942. Když si mě všimla, jak vyvádím, v nestřeženém okamžiku mě odvedla na stranu, aby si mě nikdo nevšiml. Věděla, že když budu plakat a vyvádět, že na sebe upozorním, a tak jí nezbylo nic jiného než mě uklidnit – vlepila mi takový pohlavek, že se mi zajiskřilo před očima, hrozně jsem se lekla a okamžitě zmlkla. Když selekce skončila, vmísila mě sestřenice nenápadně mezi vybrané na práci. Tím mi zachránila život! A tak jsem se díky ní dostala do pracovního tábora Hohenelbe, dnes Vrchlabí v Čechách. Každý člověk, který přežil koncentrák, přežil, dá se říci, nějakým zázrakem. Byla to velká loterie života, kdo přežije, kdo nepřežije, sled nejrůznějších náhod. Myslím, že svět byl kvůli holocaustu připraven o spoustu géniů, umělců, vynálezců, chytrých a zajímavých lidí, protože šest milionů lidí je strašně obrovská ztráta.

V pracovním táboře ve Vrchlabí nebyli jenom Židé, byly tam i jiné národnosti, ale Židé se měli nejhůř. Ve Vrchlabí jsme pracovali v továrně Lohenswerke, vyráběli jsme rádiové lampy, zbraně a všelijaké další věci. Němci zřejmě měli ke konci války problém, jelikož měli mnoho lidí narukovaných na frontě, a tak potřebovali dost pracovních sil. V koncentračních táborech jsem byla celkem téměř devět měsíců, od září 1944 do května 1945. Ve Vrchlabí jsme se setrou zažily osvobození. Němci, kteří nás tam hlídali, najednou zmizeli. Asi dva dny na to přišli Rusové, s Rudou armádou přišlo osvobození. Slavnostně nás vypravili do vlaku, stříleli do vzduchu salvy, byla to veliká sláva. Náš vlak byl přeplněný, takže asi po čtyřiceti kilometrech už nemohl jet dál, porouchal se. Jeli jsme tedy vlakem, kde byly přidělané takové desky, kterých jsme se přidržovali, přidržovali jsme se oken, pak jsme seděli i na střechách vlaku. Část cesty jsme musely se sestrou jít i pěšky. Takovým dobrodružným způsobem jsme se tedy asi po týdnu cesty dostaly do Bratislavy. Když jsme přišly, nevěděly jsme, kam máme jít, šly jsme tedy ke známým našich rodičů. Ti věděli, že naši rodiče přežili válku, tak nás k nim vzali.

Z naší rodiny jsme přežili já, sestra a rodiče. Jinak všichni ostatní rodinní příslušníci zahynuli v koncentračních táborech, kromě jednoho mého pra-prastrýce ekonoma Hexnera, který emigroval do Ameriky. Tatínek se po válce vrátil ke své lékařské profesi. Zemřel v roce 1961. Maminka zemřela v roce 1947 na infarkt. Sestra po válce vystudovala obchodní akademii, seznámila se s mladíkem z Prahy a odstěhovala se do Čech, za tohoto mladého pana Engelsmanna se vdala a žije v Praze.

Po válce

Po válce jsem začala chodit do školy, ale moc mě to tam nebavilo. Bylo mi necelých čtrnáct let, když jsem se vrátila z koncentračních táborů. Připadalo mi všechno ve škole a starosti mých vrstevníků hrozně malicherné v porovnání s tím, co jsem si já za ty měsíce za války prožila. Řekla jsem si, že chci dělat v životě něco pořádného, skutečně pracovat a bylo mi celkem jedno, co to bude, hlavně když to nebude škola. Rozhodovala jsem se mezi tím, jestli se stanu zubní techničkou, anebo fotografkou. Učňovský život mi připadal velmi zajímavý, tak jsem se rozhodla stát se fotografkou. Kousek od našeho bydliště v Bratislavě na Palisádách otevřeli střední školu uměleckého průmyslu, což mi připadalo hodně blízko tomu, co bych chtěla dělat. Tak jsem se rozhodla studovat umělecký průmysl. Škola byla velmi dobře vedená. Přijali každého a pak po třech letech dostali ti méně schopní výuční list a ti schopnější mohli pokračovat dál a složit maturitu. Já jsem se přihlásila k těm „neschopným“ a chtěla jsem odejít, oni mě přemlouvali, že mám zůstat, že studentská léta jsou ta nejkrásnější léta života, ale já jsem už chtěla jít pracovat. Pamatuji si, jak jsem si říkala, že jestli jsou studentská léta ta nejkrásnější léta života, jak je tedy možné, že život je tak nudný? To je život opravdu tak nezajímavý, že tahle hrůzostrašná škola je to nejlepší, co mě v životě potká? S takovou myšlenkou jsem se nemohla smířit, tak jsem odešla za školy. Začala jsem opravdu pracovat, nastoupila jsem ve filmových ateliérech v Bratislavě, a najednou jsem zjistila, že život není tak nudný! Práce mě bavila a fotografkou jsem dodnes. Dělám to, co mě opravdu baví.

Když vznikl v roce 1948 stát Izrael, tak jsem zvažovala, jestli neemigrovat. I před válkou rodiče uvažovali, zda do Palestiny neodjedeme, jelikož mnoho našich přátel a známých odcestovalo. Jedna věc je nad něčím uvažovat, ale důležité vždycky nakonec je, pro co se člověk opravdu rozhodne a co udělá, my jsme se nerozhodli pro emigraci, neodjeli jsme. Izrael jsem navštívila asi desetkrát. Poprvé jsem tam byla po revoluci 1989 12, tehdy Československo ještě nemělo v Izraeli velvyslance. Prezident Václav Havel 13 tam vypravil vojenský speciál, celkem asi tři letadla, kde bylo pár jeho známých a jeho osobní hosté, tak jsem s nimi také letěla.

Vdala jsem se za Jána Mináče, muž nebyl židovského původu. Byl bratrem slavného slovenského spisovatele Vladimíra Mináče [Vladimír Mináč (1922 – 1996): slovenský prozaik, esejista, filmový scenárista, publicista, kutúrny a politický činiteľ – pozn. red.]. S mužem jsme se seznámili na schůzi Svazu mládeže. Tenkrát nám tam vyprávěli, že všichni musíme znát marxismus. Já jsem vůbec neměla chuť číst ty marxistické knihy! Dozvěděla jsem se, že Ján je fotbalista, který měl výron v koleni, a tak dělal v knihovně. Řekla jsem si, že než bych ty hrůzostrašné knihy četla sama, že bude lepší, když on mi to vysvětlí. A tak se stalo, že jsme spolu začali chodit a v roce 1951 jsme se vzali. Když jsem se vdala, neměli jsme s mužem kde bydlet, tak si nás vzala do podnájmu jedna paní, jejíž muž byl souzen ve vykonstruovaných komunistických procesech 14. Prožívali jsme s ní všechny ty hrůzy, výslechy, chodili k ní estébáci 15, nebylo to vůbec příjemné. Komunistické ideologii jsem nikdy nepodlehla, myslím, že jsem komunismus brzy prohlédla. Nikdy jsem nebyla v žádné straně, ani můj otec nikdy v žádné partaji nebyl. Bylo spousta lidí, kteří těm komunistickým myšlenkám podlehli, uvěřil ideologii, ale to nebyl nikdy můj případ. Musím říct, že s antisemitismem jsem se nikdy nijak výrazně nesetkala, jelikož naše rodina nijak nábožensky nežila, žili jsme v Bratislavě a otec byl váženým lékařem. Měl klientelu židovskou i nežidovskou, sousedi ho měli rádi, stýkal se se známými a lékaři, kteří nebyli židovského vyznání. Neměli jsme žádné problémy s antisemitismem, akorát když vypukl Slovenský stát, tak přišla různá opatření proti Židům, ale já jsem byla malá, bylo mi osm let, tak jsem to až tolik nevnímala.

Mám dva syny. Starší Ján se narodil v roce 1953, žije s rodinou v Kanadě, kde je na univerzitě profesorem matematiky. Mladší syn Matěj se narodil v roce 1961, vystudoval Vysokou školu múzických umění v Bratislavě a stal se filmovým režisérem. Matěj točí hrané i dokumentární filmy. Je zvláštní, že ačkoliv jsem syny nijak zvlášť k židovství nevedla, oba dva se o tuto problematiku zajímali a dnes vědí o židovství možná i více než já. Vyprávěla jsem jim něco málo při příležitosti izraelské války v roce 1967 16. Sama jsem se k válečným událostem nechtěla ve vzpomínkách vracet, já sama se ani nedívám na žádné válečné filmy, neúčastním se vzpomínkových akcí k výročí osvobození, mě ta tematika rozrušuje a už vůbec na to nechci vzpomínat.

Do České republiky jsem se odstěhovala v roce 1993, tedy v poměrně vyšším věku. Byla to vlastně trochu pošetilost a odvaha zároveň, že se na „stará kolena“ rozhodnu žít v „cizí“ zemi. Ovšem k odchodu ze Slovenska mě přiměly nálady, které začaly na Slovensku po rozdělení Československa. Vzrostly nacionalistické nálady, když jsem znovu viděla slovenský znak a nadšení pro Tisa 17, už jsem se na to nechtěla znovu dívat a znovu prožívat ty nacionalistické nálady. Rozhodla jsem se odejít do Čech. Dnes už se to trochu vytratilo, ale po revoluci v roce 1989 bylo na Slovensku obrovské nadšení pro slovenský fašistický stát.

V roce 1996, ve svých pětašedesáti letech, jsem se rozhodla obnovit své staré rodinné album. Přišla jsem v chaosu druhé světové války o většinu rodinných fotografií, a proto jsem přišla na myšlenku zrekonstruovat si album za pomoci svých příbuzných a přátel, kteří mi stáli modelem. Vznikla tak publikace „Rekonstrukce rodinného alba“. Většina mých příbuzných za války zahynula v koncentračních táborech, nezůstala po nich ani jediná fotografie ani památka, uchovala jsem si je pouze ve svých vzpomínkách, a tak mi přišlo na mysl, že je skrze fotografii oživím. Díky umění fotografie, kterému se celý život věnuji, lze na chvíli pozastavit čas a zpřítomnit to, co už během času vybledlo. Pomáhala mi má rodina, syn Matěj ztělesnil mého tatínka Dezidera Silbersteina, Matějova manželka Karin představovala moji maminku, Pavlínu Silbersteinovou. Moji přátelé, herci a režiséři, pózovali jakožto mí strýčkové, tetičky, sestřenice. Při fotografování jsem vlastně poprvé vyprávěla synovi Matějovi různé staré rodinné historky, legrační příběhy i osobní tragédie, Matěj se rozhodl o naší rodině natočit hraný film.

Syn Matěj Mináč točí filmy, které se věnují tématu druhé světové války a holocaustu. Rozhodl se natočit film o naší rodině, tak jak jsem mu vyprávěla různé tragické historky o veselých lidech. Ovšem příběh naší rodiny byl veskrze smutný, a proto Matěj hledal cosi pozitivního, aby film měl v sobě i špetku naděje. Prostudoval všechny možné knihy o holocaustu, prolistoval všelijaké svazky v knihovně Židovského muzea v Praze, kde jednoho dne narazil na knihu Věry Gissingové „Perličky dětství“. Velice jej zaujal její příběh, ve kterém líčí, jak jakožto jedenáctiletá holčička unikla válečným hrůzám a jistému transportu na smrt, ke kterým byli odsouzeni Židé v Evropě zachvácené nacismem. Věra Gissingová popisuje: „Byli jsme velmi různorodou skupinkou dětí, které měly společné jen jedno: všichni jsme uprchli z Československa okupovaného nacisty. Některé děti utekly se svými rodiči, ale mnozí, já mezi nimi, jsme přijeli sami, v dětském vlakovém transportu. To, že se nám podařilo uniknout, bylo zásluhou přdevším jednoho muže – tehdy třicetiletého burzovního makléře z Londýna, Nicholase Wintona 18…“ Věra Gissingová se tedy v jedenácti letech díky akci Nicholase Wintona zachránila, zatímco její rodiče, kteří v Československu zůstali, byli následně zavražděni v koncentračních táborech. Když si toto syn Matěj přečetl, rozhodl se, že natočí film, který bude vycházet z mých vzpomínek, ale zakomponuje do něho i příběh o chlapci, který byl zachráněn díky akci Nicholase Wintona. Když dal svůj námět přeložit jedné překladatelce, dozvěděl se od ní, že ona sama je jedním z dětí, které byly tímto způsobem zachráněny. Velice ho příběh zaujal a rozhodl se pátrat po ostatních dětech, kterých Winton zachránil 669, i po samotném Wintonovi. Byl nesmírně překvapen, že Winton ještě žije v Maidenheadu kousek od Londýna. Kontaktoval jej a domluvil si s ním schůzku. V únoru 1998 jej navštívil v jeho domě v Anglii, Winton k němu byl velice milý, vyprávěl mu se svým typicky anglickým humorem s nadhledem o svém životě, své rodině a vnoučatech, svém zájmu o operu, kterou navštěvoval, ačkoli mu v té době bylo již téměř devadesát let. Matěj byl z Wintona nadšený a rozhodl se, že nebude točit pouze hraný film inspirovaný mým životem, ale že natočí o tomto pozoruhodném muži i film dokumentární. A takto vznikl dokument o Nicholasi Wintonovi, který se jmenuje „Síla lidskosti“ („The Power of Good“), a který kromě jiných významných cen získal roku 2002 mezinárodní cenu EMMY za nejlepší neamerický dokument. Jakožto vypravěč v něm účinkuje Joe Schlesinger, kanadský reportér televizní stanice CBS, který sám je jedním z „Wintonových dětí“.

V dokumentu se popisuje, jak se Nicholoas Winton, který se narodil 19. května 1909 v Británii, kde se stal úředníkem a burzovním makléřem, rozhodl v roce 1939 zachraňovat české a slovenské děti. Winton k tomu se skromností dodává, že byl jen ve správný čas na správném místě, že by přeci jako on jednal každý. Ale tak to nebylo, on byl jediný. Jak píše syn Matěj Mináč ve své knize „Loterie života Nicholase Wintona. Po stopách unikátní akce záchrany dětí, která nemá v novodobé historii lidstva obdoby.“: „Tak tohle jsem nechápal. Jak to, že se o tom nechce bavit? Proč se tváří, že něco takového dělají lidé levou zadní a že je to zcela běžné? Vždyť je to zkušený a inteligentní člověk a musí přece vědět, že se zachoval zcela mimořádně. Měl jsem tedy před sebou záhadu, které jsem chtěl přijít za každou cenu na kloub. Už jsem se nemohl dočkat, až se do toho filmového dokumentu pustím. Doufal jsem, že při práci na filmu najdu odpovědi na otázky: Proč to ten člověk vůbec udělal? Proč o tom půl století mlčel? Jak to vlastně udělal? /…/ Ani v Praze v roce 1939 nebyl lhostejný k těžkému osudu ohrožených českých a slovenských dětí. Nenechal se znechutit lidmi, kteří mu připomínali, že na to, aby dokázal zachránit děti, nemá ani finanční prostředky ani čas a ani gestapo mu to nedovolí. Navíc, která demokratická země by ty děti vůbec byla ochotná přijmout! Jenomže to neznali Wintona, který se vždy řídil heslem: ´NEJDE TO – nepovažuji za žádnou odpověď!´“

Nicholas Winton o svém působení v Československu nikdy nemluvil, ani jeho manželka vůbec netušila, že za války její manžel zachránil před plynovou komorou 669 dětí. Nicholasova žena, Grete Wintonová, se na jaře roku 1988 rozhodla pustit do zevrubného úklidu jejich domu. Když začala smýčit půdu, objevila starý kufr. Otevřela jej a objevila v něm hromadu dokumentů. Objevila v kufru staré dokumenty, dopisy, fotografie. Začala se písemnostmi probírat, ale nerozuměla jim, jelikož byly psány v řeči, kterou neznala. Podle háčků a čárek nad písmeny usoudila, že jsou psány zřejmě v nějaké slovanské řeči; podle slova Praha nakonec usoudila, že se dokumenty váží k Československu. Když se manžela zeptala, co mají všechny ty formuláře, fotografie a dopisy znamenat, odbyl ji tím, že to už je stará historie. Grete byla velice překvapená, když se dozvěděla, že její muž za války zachránil tolik dětí před jistou smrtí. Objevila v kufru i seznam jmen všech 669 dětí, objevila dopisy, ve kterých rodiče dětí psali, jak je třeba o jejich potomky v cizině pečovat, co mají rády, co jim škodí. Usoudila, že rodiče dětí zřejmě nepřežili, ale že by se tyto dopisy měly dostat do rukou těm, kterým patří, tedy zachráněným dětem. Grete se obrátila na různá muzea, zda by o dokumenty neměla zájem, uspěla nakonec v Památníku obětem holocaustu Yad Vashem v Izraeli, kam byly posléze dokumenty uloženy.

O tom, kdo se zasloužil o záchranu jejich životů, neměly tušení ani „Wintonovy děti“. Na oficiálních formulářích vystupovalo pouze jméno jakési organizace British Committee for Refugees from Czechoslovakia – Children’s section, kterou Winton naoko založil, ale nikdo o ní nic bližšího nevěděl. Wintonova žena Grete se tedy obrátila na britskou odbornici na problematiku holocaustu, Elizabeth Maxwellovou, která se rozhodla napsat dopisy na všech 669 adres rodin, které adoptovaly děti z Wintonova seznamu. Vrátilo se jí 150 odpovědí a podařilo se jí získat kontakt na šedesát „Wintonových dětí“. Nikdo z nich svého zachránce pochopitelně neznal a toužili se s ním setkat. Ve spolupráci s britskou televizní stanicí BBC paní Maxwellová objevila další „Wintonovy děti“. Jak píše syn ve své knize „Loterie života Nicholase Wintona. Po stopách unikátní akce záchrany dětí, která nemá v novodobé historii lidstva obdoby.“: „Moderátorka pořadu ‚That’s life – To je život‘ Esther Rantzenová dostala nápad pozvat Wintona a zachráněné děti do studia. Neřekla však nikomu, co se bude dít. Winton se domníval, že půjde o pořad zabývající se aktivním stářím a že ho pozvali kvůli jeho bohaté dobročinné činnosti. Postavil totiž kolem Londýna několik seniorských center. Jedno z nich nese jeho jméno – Wintonův dům. Během pořadu však vyšlo najevo, že ti diváci kolem jsou lidé, jimž kdysi zachránil život. Obrovské vlně emocí, která následovala, málokdo dokázal vzdorovat. Winton se rozplakal a rozplakali se i všichni kolem něho. Dojati byli i lidé u obrazovek. Jako první mu byla představena spisovatelka Věra Gissingová. Léta pátrala, kdo stál za její záchranou, obracela se na nejrůznější organizace pro uprchlíky, dokonce napsala arcibiskupovi z Canterbury, ale všechno bylo marné. A najednou vedle svého zachránce seděla! Byl to nejdojemnější okamžik jejího života. Právě tehdy vydávala svoji vzpomínkovou knihu a do úvodu dopsala pět odstavců o Nicholasi Wintonovi.“

Matěj se vydal do archívu Yad Vashem a zkoumal veškeré dokumenty, které se o Wintonově působení zachovaly. Objevil zde knihu výstřižků, kterou za války sesbírala Wintonova sekretářka Barbara Wilson, která mu jakožto dobrovolnice pomáhala v londýnské kanceláři, kterou si Winton otevřel po návratu z Prahy v roce 1939. Nicholas, sekretářka Barbara a Nicholasova maminka Barbara tvořili tříčlenný tým, který začal organizovat záchrannou akci na pomoc československým dětem. Tento tým vytipovával země, které by byly ochotné děti přijmout a umístit do adoptivních rodin, obrátili se dokonce i na prezidenta Spojených států amerických, Roosevelta. Ten sice zdvořile odpověděl, ale s dovětkem, že v dané době žádnou takovou akci legislativa jeho země neumožňuje. Jako jediné útočiště pro děti z československých rodin zbyla tedy pouze Británie. Z Prahy si Winton s sebou přivezl seznam nejohroženějších dětí, který čítal tisíce jmen. Rodiče mu poslali snímky svých dětí, snímky byly nalepeny na kartičky, a doplněny údaji o schopnostech, zájmech a dovednostech dětí. Kartičky poté rozeslal po celé Británii, nabídl je utečeneckým organizacím, všem, kteří by mohli nějakým způsobem pomoci. A tak se podařilo rozmístit děti do mnoha rozličných rodin a domácností, většinou se jich ujali dobří lidé. První vlak dětí, směřující z Wilsonova nádraží v Praze do Anglie, byl vypraven 14. března 1939, tedy den před německou okupací Čech. Poté bylo do 2. srpna 1939 vypraveno ještě sedm dalších vlaků. Nicholasi Wintonovi se podařilo zajistit vystěhování z okupovaných Čech a Moravy a ze Slovenského státu celkem 669 dětem. Poslední transport 251 dětí měl odjet z Prahy 1. září 1939. Rodiče a všech 251 dětí přišli prvního září na Wilsonovo nádraží. V londýně již bylo připraveno 251 rodin, které je přislíbily přijmout. Odjezd byl připraven, děti už seděly na svých místech ve vlaku, rodiče plakali, ale doufali, že poslat děti do Anglie je pro jejich dobro. Vlak se ale nikdy nerozjel. Vypukla druhá světová válka a najednou bylo vše odvoláno. Děti musely vystoupit, o žádném z nich už nikdo nikdy neslyšel, skončily svůj život v koncentračních táborech.

Matějovi se podařilo ve Washingtonském národním archivu najít dobové filmové záběry, které roku 1939 na Wilsonově nádraží v Praze natočil jakýsi americký zpravodajský štáb. Záběry zachycují devětadvacetiletého Wintona spolu s dětmi a jejich rodiči. Pracovníci archivu do té doby vůbec netušili, co tyto záběry zachycují, záznam totiž zůstal nerozstříhaný v archivu celých šedesát let. Nikdy se nevysílal, jelikož vzápětí po jeho natočení vypukla v Evropě válka a plátna zaplavovaly aktuální záběry z bojišť. Syn Matěj byl jeho prvním divákem. Získal tak autentické materiály, které mohl použít ve svém dokumentu o Wintonovi „Síla lidskosti“. Matěj se chystá natočit pokračování filmu o Wintonově životě, Winton má přijet do Prahy i se svými dětmi a s vnoučaty. Ačkoli je mu již devadesát sedm let, je ve výborné fyzické i psychické kondici, chystá se navštívit s Matějem jednu observatoř, jelikož čeští astronomové v roce 2000 na jeho počest pojmenovali po Wintonovi jednu novou planetku, kterou objevili.

V roce 1999 natočil syn Matěj hraný film „Všichni moji blízcí“ („All my loved ones“). Námět vycházel z mých vzpomínek na dětství, ale jelikož příběh mého dětství se mu zdál příliš smutný, vkomponoval do příběhu motiv Wintonovy záchranné akce. Samotnému Wintonovi, který přijel na premiéru filmu do Prahy, se snímek moc líbil. Film byl promítán na šedesáti prestižních mezinárodních festivalech a získal řadu cen, mimo jiné byl také nominován na Oscara za Slovenskou republiku v kategorii zahraniční film.

Glosář:

1 Slovenský stát (1939-1945)

Československo založené po rozpadu Rakousko-Uherska existovalo v této podobě do Mnichovské dohody z roku 1938. 6. října 1938 se Slovensko stalo autonomní republikou s Jozefem Tisem jako předsedou vlády. V důsledku slovenských snah o získání nezávislosti pražská vláda zavedla vojenské právo, Tisa sesadila na začátku března 1939 z jeho postu a nahradila ho Karolem Sidorem. Slovenské osobnosti obrátily na Hitlera, který toho využil jako záminky k přetvoření Čech, Moravy a Slezska v německý protektorát. 14. března 1939 slovenský zákonodárný orgán vyhlásil nezávislost Slovenska, která byla ve skutečnosti jen nominální, neboť Slovensko bylo výrazně kontrolováno nacistickým Německem.

2 Sereď

založen roku 1941 jako židovský pracovní tábor. Tábor fungoval až do vypuknutí slovenského povstání, kdy byl rozpuštěn. Na začátku září 1944 však byly jeho aktivity obnoveny a byly zahájeny deportace. Z důvodu deportací byl koncem září SS-Hauptsturmfuhrer Alois Brunner jmenován velitelem tábora. Brunner byl po dlouhou dobu kolega Adolfa Eichmanna a v roce 1943 organizoval deportace francouzských Židů. Podle svědků od září 1944 do března 1945 bylo vysláno 11 transportů zahrnujících 11 532 osob. Nejprve byly transporty posílány do koncentračního tábora v Osvětimi, později i do jiných táborů v Říši. Koncentrační tábor byl zlikvidován koncem 31. března 1945, kdy byl odeslán poslední evakuační transport do terezínského ghetta.

3 Vyhnání Židů ze Španělska

sefardské obyvatelstvo balkánského původu jsou potomci Židů, kteří byli vyhnáni z Iberského poloostrova v důsledku reconquisty na konci 15. století (Španělsko 1492, Portugalsko 1495). Většina Sefardim se poté usadila v Osmanské říši, zejména v přístavních městech (Salonika, Istanbul, Smyrna, etc.) a ve městech ležících na významných vnitrozemských obchodních trasách vedoucích do střední Evropy (Bitola, Skopje a Sarajevo) a do oblasti Dunaje (Adrianople. Philipopolis, Sofia a Vidin). 

4 Jánošík, Juraj (1688-1713)

slovenský lidový hrdina. Byl nevolníkem ve Fatranských horách v Horním Maďarsku (dnešní Slovensko) a stal se vyhnancem. Podle legendy okrádal bohaté a dával chudým. Jánošík se účastnil Rakoczyho povstání proti Habsburkům (1703-11). Přidal se ke skupině uprchlíků a po potlačení povstání se stali lapky. Jánošík byl chycen autoritami Liptovského hrabství a popraven v Liptoszentmiklos (dnešní Liptovský Mikuláš). Jánošík je hrdinou mnoha slovenských lidových příběhů a legend a také je oslavován v lidových písních.

5 Kašrut

neboli rituální chování vycházející z židovského práva, které stanovuje pravidla pro přípravu jídla. Zakazuje používání krve. Předepsanou metodou zabití zvířete je tzv. šchita. Hlavní pravidlo kašrutu je zákaz jíst mléčné výrobky a maso dohromady. A to ani tehdy, když nebyly společně vařeny. Časový interval mezi konzumací mléčných výrobků a masa se liší. Např. na  území Slovenska je tento interval šest hodin v případě, že maso je konzumováno jako první. V opačném případě, když je nejprve konzumován mléčný výrobek, se časový interval liší.

6 Ortodoxní komunity

tradiční židovské komunity založily své vlastní ortodoxní organizace po kongresu v Budapešti v letech 1868-69. Organizovaly svůj život podle židovských principů a odmítaly asimilační snahy. Vedoucími představiteli komunity byli rabíni. Status komunit byl schválen králem roku1871. V západní části Maďarska se komunity potomků německých a slovenských imigrantů řídily západními ortodoxními principy. Západní ortodoxie se rozšířila i do východní části Maďarska. V roce 1896 bylo po celém Maďarsku registrováno 294 ortodoxních mateřských komunity a 1 001 dceřinných komunit a to zejména v Transylvánii a v severovýchodní části země. V roce 1930 30,4 % maďarských Židů se hlásilo k 136 mateřským komunitám a 300 dceřiných komunit. Toto číslo vzrostlo na 535 ortodoxních komunit v roce 1944, včetně 242 059 věřících (46 %).

7 Židovský kodex

nařízení č. 198 slovenské vlády, vydané v září 1941, týkající se právního statutu Židů, které je známé pod názvem Židovský kodex. Vycházel z Norimberských zákonů a chápal židovský problém na rasovém základě, náboženské kritérium bylo potlačeno. Tento kodex definoval tyto kategorie: Žid, poloviční Žid, židovský míšenec. Většina z 270 paragrafů se věnovala přesunu židovského majetku (tzv. arizace – nahrazení Žida nežidem) a vyjmutí Židů z ekonomického, politického a veřejného života.

8 Joint (Americký židovský spojený distribuční výbor)

Joint vznikl v roce 1914 v reakci na utrpení Židů během 1. světové války. V roce 1944 se Joint zapojil do humanitární pomoci Židům v již osvobozených částech Evropy. Zajišťoval dodávky jídla a dalších potřebných věcí (oblečení) pro židovské přeživší po celé Evropě. Joint rovněž pomáhal Židům emigrovat z Evropy a muslimských zemí. Během studené války byla tato organizace vytlačena ze střední Evropy, ale po pádu komunismu se do mnoha z těchto zemích vrátila. Dnes se Joint stará o přeživší holocaustu a podporuje oživení a rozvoj židovských komunit.  

9 Žlutá hvězda – židovská hvězda v protektorátu

1. září 1941 byl vydán výnos, podle kterého všichni Židé starší 6 let nesmí vyjít na veřejnost bez židovské hvězdy. Tato židovská hvězda byla žlutá, ohraničená černou linií. Židé ji museli nosit připevněnou na viditelném místě na levé straně oblečení. Tento výnos začal platit od 19. září 1941. Byl to další krok ve vydělování Židů ze společnosti. Autorem této myšlenky byl Reinhard Heydrich.

10 Slovenské národní povstání

o Vánocích 1943 byla založena Slovenská národní rada sestávající z různých opozičních skupin (komunisté, sociální demokraté, agrárníci atd.). Jejich společným cílem bylo bojovat proti slovenskému fašistickému státu. Povstání vypuklo v Banské Bystřici, na středním Slovensku, 20. srpna 1944. 18. října Němci zahájili ofenzivu. Značná část pravidelné slovenské armády se přešla k povstalcům a přidala se k nim i sovětská armáda. Němcům se sice podařilo potlačit povstání a 27. října okupovali Banskou Bystřici, ale nebyli schopni zcela zastavit akce partyzánů.

11 Terezín

malé pevnostní město, které bylo v době existence Protektorátu Čechy a Morava přeměněno v ghetto, řízené SS (Schutzstaffel, Ochranný oddíl). Židé byli z Terezína transportováni do různých vyhlazovacích táborů. Čeští četníci byli využíváni k hlídání ghetta. Židé však s jejich pomocí mohli udržovat kontakty s okolním světem. Navzdory zákazu vzdělávání se v ghettu konala pravidelná výuka. V roce 1943 se rozšířily zprávy o tom, co se děje v nacistických koncentračních táborech, a proto se Němci rozhodli Terezín přetvořit na vzorové židovské osídlení s fiktivními obchody, školou, bankou atd. Do Terezína pozvali na kontrolu komisi Mezinárodního červeného kříže.

12 Sametová revoluce

známá též pod pojmem  “listopadové události” označující období mezi 17. listopadem a 29. prosincem 1989, které vyvrcholily v pád komunistického režimu. V listopadu vznikla hnutí Občanské fórum a Veřejnost proti násilí. 10. prosince byla vytvořena vláda Národního usmíření, která zahájila demokratické reformy. 29. prosince byl zvolen prezidentem Václav Havel. V červnu 1990 se konaly první demokratické volby od roku 1948.

13 Havel, Václav (1936-2011)

český dramatik a politik. Aktivně se podílel na politickém a společenském uvolňování během Pražského jara. Po Sovětské intervenci v roce 1968 se stal mluvčím Charty 77. Z politických důvodů byl zatčen v letech 1977 a 1979. V roce 1989 byl zvolen československým a po odtržení Slovenska i českým prezidentem. Ve své funkci setrval do roku 2003.

14 Slánského proces

V letech 1948-49 československá vláda spolu se Sovětským svazem podporovala myšlenku založení státu Izrael. Později se však Stalinův zájem obrátil na arabské státy a komunisté museli vyvrátit podezření, že podporovali Izrael dodávkami zbraní. Sovětské vedení oznámilo, že dodávky zbraní do Izraele byly akcí sionistů v Československu. Každý Žid v Československu byl automaticky považován za sionistu. Roku 1952 na základě vykonstruovaného procesu bylo 14 obžalovaných (z toho 11 byli Židé) spolu s Rudolfem Slánským, prvním tajemníkem komunistické strany, bylo uznáno vinnými. Poprava se konala 3. prosince 1952. Později komunistická strana připustila chyby při procesu a odsouzení byli rehabilitováni společensky i legálně v roce 1963.

15 Státní tajná bezpečnost

československá zpravodajská a bezpečnostní služba založená roku 1948.

16 Šestidenní válka (5

-10. června 1967): první útok v šestidenní válce provedlo izraelské letectvo 5. června 1967. Celá válka trvala 132 hodin a 30 minut. Boje na egyptské straně trvaly čtyři dny, zatímco boje na jordánské straně trvaly tři dny. Navzdory krátkému průběhu byla šestidenní válka jednou z nejničivějších válek mezi Izraelem a arabskými státy. Šestidenní válka zapříčinila změny v mentalitě a politické orientaci arabských států. V důsledku toho se zvýšilo napětí mezi arabskými národy a západním světem.   

17 Tiso, Jozef (1887-1947)

římsko-katolický kněz, protikomunistický politik. Tiso byl ideologický a politický představitel Hlinkovy slovenské lidové strany (HSĽS). Roku 1930 se stal jejím místopředsedou, roku 1938 jejím předsedou, 1938-39 poslancem a později prezidentem fašistického slovenského loutkového státu, který byl založen s německou podporou. Jeho politika přivedla Slovensko jako spojence do války proti Polsku a Sovětskému svazu. V roce 1947 byl shledán vinným z válečných zločinů, odsouzen k smrti a popraven. 

18 Winton, Sir Nicholas (nar

1909): britský makléř a humanitární pracovník, který se v roce 1939 podílel na organizování transportů židovských dětí z území Protektorátu Čechy a Morava do Velké Británie. Tímto způsobem bylo zachráněno 669 dětí.

Revekka Blumberg

Revekka Blumberg
Tallinn
Estonia
Interviewer: Ella Levitskaya
Date of interview: September 2005

I met Revekka, or Rita, which is her more commonly used name, Blumberg in the Estonian Jewish community 1. Rita is involved in social work in the community. She is a visiting nurse. I had known Rita before conducting this interview, but it never occurred to me to ask her for an interview since I was sure she was born in the postwar years. She is a bright lady, dressed up to fashion, looking young with her hair cut short and vivid eyes. Only when it came to discussing the deportation 2, I heard that Rita had to live through all horrors of forced relocation to Siberia in June 1941. Rita willingly agreed to tell me the story of her life, however hard these recollections were for her. Rita is a very emotional person, and her story is not only interesting as a description of the facts, but also, her comments thereon. Rita told a very interesting story about her husband’s father Rachmiel Blumberg, who went back to Siberia many times after returning from the camps in Siberia to take with him as many children of “enemies of the people” 3 deported from Estonia as possible. Rachmiel is still well remembered and honored by many Estonians. The interview took place at Rita’s home. She lives in the center of Tallinn. There is a lot of light in Rita’s apartment: light colored walls, furniture and lots of pot plants. Rita’s dwelling is very much like herself: fashionable and showy, but all within good taste.

Family background
During the war
Our escape from exile
School years
Married life
Glossary

Family background

I spent my childhood and some of my young age in a distant area in Siberia where we were deported in 1941, instead of spending it in my hometown of Kaunas, Lithuania [2nd biggest town in Lithuania, 90 km from Vilnius]. All I know about my grandmothers and grandfathers is what my mother told me. Unfortunately they had passed away before we returned home. However little I know about my parents’ families is based on my mama’s reminiscences. These memories were so hard for her that I could not ask her to tell me the story of my family too frequently.

At that time I did not think about knowing too little about my roots, any details of my family’s life before I was born or about what my grandmothers and grandfathers were like. Life was about surviving at that time, and the past was almost a forbidden subject for me. It was far later that I started thinking about this trying to restore whatever little could be found and reconstructed.

I will start from my mother’s family. They lived in Lithuania, Klaipeda [about 300 km from Vilnius], which was called Memel during the tsarist time. My mother’s parents’ surname was Fisher. My grandfather died young leaving six children behind. Besides my mama, Hana-Leya, born in 1913, I only knew her brother David and sister Paula. Mama had another brother and two sisters. Unfortunately, I cannot remember their names. When my mama was telling me about them, I didn’t think it so important.

After my grandfather died the family moved to Kaunas. My grandmother was a housewife, when my grandfather was alive, which was common in Jewish families. The children were still young, all of them being of school age, and my grandmother did have a hard time in her effort to provide for them. Even when Grandfather was alive, the family was far from wealthy, and after he died they were actually left in poverty. It’s hard to say how my grandmother managed, but all of the children received good education. They finished a German gymnasium in Kaunas.

After finishing the gymnasium Mama studied in a Jewish religious school in Germany. She told me this school accepted the girls with good academic records and fluent German. The Jewish community paid their trip to Germany. Mama spent two years at this school. All children were raised to become decent, kind and hardworking people. It wasn’t only my mother saying this. I heard this from those people who had known my mother’s family as well.

After Mama returned from Germany she went to work. She spoke fluent German and went to work as personal assistant to the owner of a large shoe factory. This company had some contractual relationships with Germany, and Mama was responsible for correspondence administration.

My father’s family, the Levins, lived in Kaunas. There were many children, of whom I only knew my father’s sister and brother, who stayed in Lithuania. The older children moved to various countries before the 1920s. I have no information about them. My father was the youngest of three children who stayed in Lithuania. The oldest was his sister Shulamit, Shulia, and the middle brother’s name was Haim. My father, Yacob-Berl Levin, was born in 1902.

I don’t know what my grandfather was doing for a living. Mama did not like to talk about my father’s family. All I know is that they were rather wealthy. The family was religious like all Jewish families in Lithuania at the time.

My father took to commerce and life was gradually improving. My father had his own business before getting married. He dealt with fabric wholesale. He purchased fabric abroad and sold it to garment enterprises in Kaunas, Lithuania. It is my understanding that he was a medium level businessman, but this business supported him all right.

I don’t know how my parents met, though I know for sure that this was not a prearranged marriage considering that my father’s family was not really happy about it. They thought it to be a misalliance. My mother came from a poor family while my father’s family was a wealthier one. My father’s parents were probably going to have their son marry a girl with plentiful dowry, but my father went against their will. From whatever little my mother told me, I knew that her relationships with my father’s family were no good, and therefore, she avoided talking about them.

During the war

My parents got married in 1936. They had a traditional Jewish wedding. My father insisted that my mother left her job after getting married. My father had a nice apartment in Kaunas where the newly weds settled down. My mother’s family accepted my father. They had warm and kindly relationships. My father even employed my mother’s sister and brother. I was born in 1937, one year after my parents’ wedding. I was given the name of Revekka.

The language we spoke at home was Yiddish. Lithuania was the center of Jewish culture before the war, and now, after almost 50 years of Soviet rule, the Jewish culture has very deep roots. I remember the Kaunas of my childhood. This was a beautiful and green town. Vyshgorod, a neighborhood in Kaunas, was located on a hill, and there was a funicular connection with it. We lived on the main street, which was Laisvės Alėja at the time. There were many Jews in Kaunas. And, of course, there were synagogues, cheders and everything else that was necessary to support the life of a large Jewish community.

Thinking about my aunt Shulia, I believe my father was a religious man, considering that they grew up in one family and received similar education. I don’t think my parents were canonically religious people, though they observed all Jewish traditions. Even after the war my aunts had kitchenware for meat and dairy products, followed the kashrut, and I believe that this was the way of living in our family before the war. My father’s family strictly observed all Jewish rules, and my father was no exception in this regard. As for my mother, she was always religious, having received religious education in a German school.

I don’t remember how my parents felt about the annexation of Lithuania to the Soviet Union 4. My father’s business was nationalized, and our life became notably more difficult. I remember the day of deportation on 16th June 1941 very well. On this day many Lithuanian families were deported from their country, and their only fault was that they reached certain well-being through hard work and managed to provide for a decent life of their families. The deportation lasted for three days: from 14 to 16 June. [Editor’s note: The first major wave of deportation took place between 11th and 14th June 1941, when 36,000, mostly politically active people were deported. See 2]

I remember very well how this was with my family despite my being just a child. Two NKVD officers 5 came to our home and gave us half an hour to get ready. Nobody knew what was happening. Much depended on each NKVD employee. Some of them merely followed their orders. They were told that the ones to be deported were enemies of the people and deserved no mercy. These NKVD guys didn’t even give a thought to where the fault of those who were called ‘enemies of people’ was. They did their job with the same ardor as someone digging a pit or planting potatoes. Others were more merciful warning owners of the houses that they were to be deported, telling them what they should take with them and even helping them to pack.

Some of these guys took pleasure in bullying people to be the deported. This was the kind of people that we were to deal with. They were watching what Mama was packing throwing away what they thought was in excess of what we needed to take. They allowed only the minimum of things, just one set of underwear and everything else and later in exile this had its impact. Those, who had more belongings with them, could bargain them for food products or milk for their children, while we didn’t even have enough of what was necessary, to say nothing of excesses.

Then we were taken to the railway station where families were separated. Men were taken to one train, and women and children to another. At that time we were not aware that this was separation for a lifetime. We were hoping that we would be together, when we arrived at the destination. The carriage was packed with Lithuanians, Russians and Jews. They were all, whom the NKVD office believed to be wealthy, which meant they were criminals and alien elements.

The trip was horrific. Children and adults were crying. This was really a nightmare. There was no food or drinking water available. When the train stopped, those women, who had extra clothes, could bargain them for food. There was no toilet in the train, and its passengers were using buckets that were stinking. There were little windows below the roof, but they were not allowed to be opened. It was so stuffy in the carriage that people were fainting. A few babies died on the way. The trip was hard.

Finally we reached Biysk [the Altai Mountains, Russia, about 3500 km from Moscow], from where we were taken to a settlement on a peat field. We were accommodated in wooden barracks with two- and three-tier plank beds. Most of us spoke Lithuanian and German and hardly any Russian. Women were sent to work in the peat fields almost immediately. One of them stayed in the barrack to look after the children.

For over a year the women had no information about where their husbands were. It was cold inside the barrack and there was no food. The children were falling ill, and I also was near death a few times. Once I fell ill with whooping cough. I developed croup and could not breathe. There was an agronomist in the settlement. She had a horse and took me to the hospital. She saved my life. Many children died from diseases, cold and lack of food in the course of the first year. However, humans get used to many things, and our mothers also got used to these new inhuman living conditions.

Gradually all exiled were accommodated in local houses. There were only women, children and old people left in the settlement. Men were at the front. The family of our hosts consisted of Natasha, the hostess, her son of nearly my age and an old woman. Natasha was kind to us. At first the locals had a hostile attitude toward us. They called us bourgeois and some other insulting names that I didn’t remember knowing little of Russian. Later they started talking to us and asked questions, to get to know us better. Most of these common Russian people treated us well. They sympathized with us knowing that we were no enemies, but the same people as they were. Natasha, our hostess, treated me no different from her son. She read fairy tales to us in the evening and we shared whatever little food was available. Sometimes we received some balanda [soup], which was also rarely available.

I went to the local school for three years. When I first came to my class and told them my name, Revekka, or Riva, the pupils started laughing. This was a new name for them. I had a mop of thick chestnut hair, and the children teased me ‘Riva – a mane of hair’. Later they suggested they would call me one of the following Russian names: Rita or Rimma, since it was hard for them to pronounce my name. This was how I became Rita, and I got so well used to this name that it became my name. My true name is written in my documents, but I am commonly addressed by the name of Rita.

Dina Israelit, a Jewish girl, was my closest friend in the class. She also belonged to an exiled family. We are still friends, though Dina moved to Israel a long time ago. We were close to one another, and another thing that made us closer was that we shared the same things in life.

During the Soviet times school had a strong political background. Soviet education was a very important aspect. We were convinced that the Soviet Union was the country of happy childhood, and that we owed this to Stalin, the father of all people, who was taking continuous care of us. We were taught to be patriots, and Dina and I had a strong belief in everything that was instilled in our minds. We were set to very strong patriotic feelings.

In general, there were common children’s joys in my exiled childhood. We spent time together and went to bathe in the Biya River. I was an active girl. I attended a dance club at school. However, reciting a poem in front of the public was never an easy performance for me. I spoke almost fluent Russian, but I burred, and felt embarrassed about it. Therefore, I avoided this kind of performances, preferring dancing. However, this burring was no hindrance to my progress with the Russian literature and language classes. I was good at writing dictations and compositions, and my teachers praised me high. I am good at languages basically and find them easy to learn. Dina was always good at performing in front of the public. Anyways, later a teacher helped me to overcome my shyness. She just forced me to recite a poem on the stage, and afterward I was never again afraid of performing to the public. My childhood, even the way it was with me, was the best time of my life.

I’ve faced no anti-Semitism, and this is true. I’ve always been sociable and friendly toward my surrounding, and people have treated me nicely. I liked going to pioneer camps 6, when a child. I made many friends and was the focus of whatever events in those camps. I can remember a compliment I was told. They said I was one of them and one would never guess I was a Jew. It was said in such a manner as if this was a much appreciated thing. However, I never left it without response. Moreover, when hearing something of this kind, I always replied that yes, I was a Jew, and that Jews were no different from other people. I had nothing in my appearance that might indicate my Jewish origin, when I was young, but it did show with my growing older. I had fair eyes and auburn hair.

My mother and I were very poor. Mama, actually, was very lonely and very unpractical. Some women have a strong will and can find a way out of any difficult situation, but not my mother. She was a weak person and needed support and care of a strong man. When in Siberia, she lived with constant fear in this different environment. She could not understand why we were deported and feared that she might say or do something that might lead to another persecution. She wanted to forget whatever had to do with our past life and never talked to people about it.

About over a year later we heard that my father and other men from the Baltic republics were kept in a Gulag 7 camp. My father developed severe dystrophy in the camp, and when it became clear that his condition was threatening to his life they released him from the camp. This happened in 1943. One week before he died, my father was brought to us on a horse-drawn cart. He could not stand by himself. Actually, they brought him there so that he died elsewhere, but in the camp, where his death might add to their statistics. I have vague memories of this, but I can remember my feeling of horror. Jews and all other people, who were in exile, came to his funeral. I remember this day well.

Some time later Mama heard that her family, her mother and two sisters and their families died in the ghetto in Kaunas 8. My father’s mother also died there. They failed to evacuate and were taken to the ghetto during the first days of the German occupation. I cannot remember how exactly this information became available to my mother, but it broke her down completely. Mama could not manage what had fallen unto her: her husband died before her eyes and her family died. There was none of her kin left in this world. My friend Dina’s family supported us during this heart-break disaster.

Dina was luckier than me. Her family lived in Klaipeda before they were deported. Dina’s father was a wealthy man. He owned a textile factory. He was sent to a Gulag camp, too, but he survived. He was released from the camp and joined his family in exile. The father, the mother and the daughter were together. It was a miracle in itself, but then another miracle happened.

Dina was the youngest of three children. Her middle brother was 11-12 years older, and another sister was even older. During the First Estonian Republic 9 they left Estonia. Dina’s sister lived in England, and her brother lived in Africa. The family managed to locate Dina’s older sister. It was incredible in itself, but they did manage. Dina’s sister worked for the Joint 10, and through the Red Cross she managed to send parcels with food preserves to her parents. It was quite an event in our life.

I remember how Dina invited me to her home once telling me to say not a word about it to anyone. When I came there they treated me to some cream or mousse, I can’t remember what it was, but it was something so delicious and fluffy, something so very much out of this world that I felt like taking leave of my senses. Dina’s family was a great support to my mother, when she became a widow. They also cared about me and warmed me like a frozen sparrow. Dina’s father was particularly kind to me.

Our escape from exile

People started leaving the exile. When they were caught, they were forced to come back, but there were rumors that those who bought false documents managed well. Mama also decided to escape from exile. I can understand what was behind her decision. If we were caught we would just come back and continue living in exile. The risk was high, but it was justified. Mama had no documents whatsoever. When people who were deported arrived at their destination, their passports were taken away and replaced with a certificate indicating the only place of residence they were allowed. Each month they were supposed to make their appearance at the commandant’s office for the record.

Mama knew a family that had escaped one year before. Mama must have corresponded with them, considering that she also decided to take the risk. I matured in exile. I was only ten years old, but my mother talked to me and was seeking my advice and relied upon it as if she would upon her friend or sister’s advice. Mama explained to me that any spoken word might spoil the whole plan and then we would come back to Siberia again. We took a train having no documents. There were frequent raids on the way, when they were looking for the runaways, who had no right to leave the exile, to take them off the train. We were lucky enough to avoid being identified.

Mama and I plotted our new biography, according to which we came from Riga, from where we evacuated, and my father had died at the front line. Our documents were burned, when our train was bombed. I learned all details by heart. I learned what a white lie was for at an early age, however hard and even humiliating this felt. I knew I had to lie from then on, though I could not understand why life was all about lying like that. Lying was against my principle. When I was younger, Mama often told me that we were poor, but we had our honesty, and we had to do so that our good name was not spoiled. It was true that honesty was all we had. At times I have a tendency to think that his period in life was even more difficult than the exile. We faced a lot of humiliation and constant fear having to hide away all the time.

We arrived at Kaunas. My father’s older sister Shulia gave me shelter. Her marital name was Abelski, Shulamith Abelski. Her family survived the Holocaust. Aunt Shulia and her daughter evacuated. They returned to their former apartment from the evacuation. Aunt Shulia had a five-room apartment on Kestuchio Street in the center of Kaunas, but her family was also big. Her husband and daughters Pesia and Rina, her son Moisey and his wife Riva and my aunt lived there. My aunt’s older daughter went to study in London back in the 1930s, and did not want to come back, when the Soviet rule was established in Lithuania.

My aunt’s son and his wife had no children, and Riva was all heartbroken about this. Moisey and Riva were in the ghetto in Kaunas. The Germans selected younger and stronger inmates to go to work in Germany. Moisey and Riva were also taken to this train. Moisey and Riva were sportsmen, and when on the train, a few young people, also sportsmen, decided to jump off the train. So did Moisey and Riva, and everything went all right. They returned to Kaunas. The Germans also sterilized young women in the ghetto with injections. Riva was one of them, and she could never have children. This was a tragedy for her. She loved her husband dearly and it was her dream to have his baby. Moisey was her first and only love. Being unable to have a baby Riva thought she was defective and inadequate.

When I joined them, Riva came to liking me dearly and treated me like one of her kin. She asked my mother whether she would give her consent to my adoption, but my mother refused to give her consent, which only deepened the conflict between Mama and my father’s family, which had started with their marriage.

There was another thing about my mother’s relationship with my father’s family, which did not contribute to its positive development. My father’s brother Haim became a widower, when he was still a young man. He did not remarry due to his tight-lipped and unsociable manner. He liked my mother and was willing to marry her after my father died. It’s a common thing among Jews that a brother marries his brother’s widow or, at least, takes care of her. Haim proposed marriage to my mother, but she refused bluntly. This evidently added to my father’s family negative attitude.

It was due to this lack of good relationship between these two families that my mother never told me about my father’s family. It was my aunt Shulia, whom I stayed with for two years after we escaped from exile, who gave me some information. I learned a lot about Jews, Jewish traditions and the Jewish way of life from my aunt. My aunt helped me to restore my Yiddish, the language of my childhood. They spoke Yiddish in their household, though each of them had a good conduct of Lithuanian, German and Russian. I also had to speak Yiddish, and I’m grateful to my aunt for making me learn to speak it. I wish I had learned the ABC to be able to read and write in Yiddish, but I was too lazy to do that. I was just a child and wasn’t quite willing to take extra efforts to do things.

Two years ago I had a good chance to verify my appropriate knowledge of Yiddish at the congress of Lithuanian Jews from all over the world that was held in Vilnius. I enjoyed taking part in it. Different people got together like members of one family and one and the same culture.

There was one more thing that caused mutual dislike between my mother and aunt Shulia. My aunt Shulia and her family rejoiced at the official recognition of Israel by all countries in 1948 11. My aunt was eager to move to Israel and she got her chance. During a short period in between 1949 and the 1950s Lithuanian Jews were given an opportunity to reunite with their closest kin in Israel before the Iron Curtain 12 was drawn back. One of my father and aunt Shilua’s brothers moved to Israel back in the 1910s. He sent an invitation letter for the entire family, and my aunt wanted me to go with them. My aunt wanted me to have a future in Israel. She wanted me to leave the USSR, and believed that my deceased father would have liked it. My aunt asked my mother to let me go to Israel with them, but my mother was against it. She wanted me to stay with her, and I could understand this. Her refusal caused another conflict between my mother and my aunt, and this conflicted lasted as long as they lived.

I happened to meet with my cousin sisters in Israel during perestroika 13, when we were allowed to travel abroad. Regretfully, my aunt Shulia had passed away before then. When I was a child, I could not give full credit to my aunt, and it was only when I visited Israel that I realized how wise her decision to move the family to Israel was. My aunt had a strong will, and she was the core of the family. She guided and strengthened the family ties.

I can compare my life and the life of my cousin sisters in Israel. My reunion with them was a great shock for me. My older cousin can speak fluent Russian, and we could talk as much as we wanted with her. We met before I visited her in Israel. Pesia came to work for the Sochnut 14 in Novosibirsk where she taught Hebrew. She wrote me, and we started to communicate after a long interval.

Rena, the younger one, came to Israel at the age of seven or eight years, and she speaks poor Russian or Yiddish. Pesia graduated from the Department of Mathematics of Tel Aviv University. She has two children. Rena, the younger cousin, finished the Physical Culture College. She played in the volleyball team of Israel and took part in the World Cup. After finishing the college Rena went to the army where she served until she retired at the age of 45. Rena is full of energy, and she took to business. She is a tall and beautiful woman.

My cousins and I were as different as day and night. They have confidence and strong will. They are proud of their own life and their country. They are beautiful, and this is amazing since their soul reflects in their eyes. They are not shy Jewish girls like I was. They are real Israelites. Their self-sufficient attitude and their confidence in righteousness made a crucial impression on me.

The whole family adores Aunt Shulia, who insisted that they all moved to Israel back in the 1940s. They were still young and accepted her decision, but in reality Aunt Shulia just gave them a new decent life. Looking at my cousins and their children I was thinking that if all people living in Israel are like this, the country has a future. Their children are free people of the world, and how different they are from those browbeaten Jews having fear of everything around. They feel at home and masters of their own life in Israel. However hard the situation may be they know that these are objective difficulties and they take every effort to establish peace and joy in their country. The people of Israel are the Jews that we can be proud of.

Those years, 1940 to 1950, in Kaunas were very tense. There were continuous raids in the town. Militia guys could come to any family to check documents. Sometimes these passport control checkups occurred at night. They were looking for the people who had no passports. Mama lived at a different location for the sake of safety. I remember that when somebody rang the doorbell, I had to hide behind some bags so that they could not find me. My mother also had to hide away and she told me about it. I went to the fourth grade in Kaunas.

In Kaunas Mama found out the details of how her family had died. When it became clear that the Soviet army was approaching Lithuania, the German troops started elimination of the traces of their crimes. They were in a great hurry and took little notice of the ghetto inmates. Some Lithuanian support personnel gave inmates a chance to escape from the ghetto. They were already aware of preparations to exterminate the inmates. Actually, many inmates were burned alive during this action.

My mother’s brother and sister were offered a chance to escape. They came to a secret council with my grandmother. My grandmother was telling them that they should go and take this chance to escape, but they decided to stay with her, which they did. My mother’s sister’s daughter Frieda, who was 15 or 16 years old, was also there in the ghetto. She escaped along with a few other teenagers. The Lithuanian staff helped her to escape. They were hiding in a cellar at a Lithuanian household, before someone helped them to get to Kaunas. There were some Lithuanians killing Jews, but the others were rescuing Jewish people even at the risk of their lives. I met Frieda in Israel about eight years ago. She told me the story. She was the only survivor in my mother’s family. 

It took Mama almost a year before she managed to buy a passport. All those who managed to escape from exile already knew there was a man in Vilnius, who could help with a passport. Most of them were poor, and the locals collected money for them to buy necessary documents, clothes, etc. The Jewish community in Kaunas also collected the amount of money my mother needed to buy a passport. My mother went to Vilnius and when she returned she already had a passport. She had her maiden name of Fisher indicated in her new passport. My mother was Fisher, and I was Levina. My mother retained her name, and I changed mine to Blumberg after I got married.

However, despite our having new documents it turned out that it was still not safe for us to stay in Kaunas. It was a small town where people knew each other. Even some Jewish people might report to the NKVD that the Levin family had returned from exile illegally. If it happened this way, my mother would have had to go to prison for the violation of passport regime, and then we would have been made to return to exile. Also, they might have found out that my mother’s passport was a false one. Once someone warned my mother that she and I had been noticed in the town and that we had to be watchful. We had to go somewhere where people did not know us and we had to hide away again.

We knew that my friend Dina’s family also escaped from exile and lived in Riga. Dina’s parents, particularly her father, wrote my mother offering her their support and assistance. So, we decided to go to Riga. I was very happy about it. Dina is still my best friend and we are very close. She is my sister, even though she was not born to our family. Dina’s family had a great influence on me. They helped me a lot. Dina’s father was particularly kind to me. He was a very educated and interesting person. He gave his daughter very appropriate education. At that time people cared little about studying foreign languages while he gave his daughter an opportunity to study French and English, and this helped her a lot in life. I often attended Dina’s classes learning what she did.

School years

I had a Cinderella complex. I loved my friend dearly and did not envy her, but I felt bad about not being able to have as good a life as she did. My mother and I were very poor. At that time skating was very popular, but I could only dream about it. There was no way we could afford buying skates. I had friends in my class, but I hardly ever attended any events at school or my friends’ birthdays having no fancy clothes. I had one dress, which I wore to school, and I was embarrassed among my friends wearing fancy clothes. There were many things bothering me. I felt bitter about my mother being unable to provide the kind of life other children were having to me.

Mama did not always behave adequately, and those were hard times for me, when I witnessed that. It was additional emotional stress for me. It was not that I was ashamed that she was my mother, but it was painful to watch her condition. It took me some time to realize that Mama was ill. This was the result of deportation and life in exile.

Mama did not die in exile, she survived physically, but she was broken down spiritually, and her life was wasted. Of course, this situation was not common for all those, who were in exile. Perhaps, other people were stronger. Some had relatives, brothers or sisters to rely upon and get some support and assistance, while she had nobody. She spoke good literary Lithuanian, fluent Yiddish and had a good conduct of German, but she failed to learn appropriate Russian. She could explain herself in exile, but this was all she could. Perhaps, her mind rejected the Russian language subconsciously. Mama was not resentful, but inside she could not accept the Soviet regime, the system that broke her life.

I take after my father. Mama was a very beautiful and kind woman, but these features of hers turned out to be unclaimed. Moreover, she became timid and shy. She could have married someone and have her life ordered, but she didn’t accept this. She didn’t want anything. Mama was raised to be religious and she became devout, though she concealed this from all. Even I learned this only, when I was about 50 years old. Once we had a confiding discussion with her, and Mama told me that she had been praying through all these years. She read the prayers to me.

Mama spoke, read and wrote in excellent German. She even did some translations, but she never mentioned this to anyone. She was afraid of speaking it out. At first she feared to be arrested as a German spy, and things like this did happen during Stalin’s rule. However, her fear did not vanish after he died, though she already could make her living knowing the language. She could teach or do translations.

When we fled from exile, Mama made her past life and biography null and void. She lived her life in fear, and this fear that was inside her developed into sickness, phobia. My friend Dina’s mother also had problems. She could not work and she had problems with contacting people. However, she did not have to face this alone: her husband was there, she was well provided for and she knew she was well loved and cared for. Her situation was very different. However, Mama did not realize she was severely ill. Living in the USSR, we somehow ignored any indisposition until the pain became unbearable, and as for mental problems, people were not used to paying any attention, whatsoever. Only after Mama moved to Israel in 1970, since this was the dream of her life, she had medical examinations and treatment. 

I was a pioneer at school. All children became pioneers. They didn’t ask their consent. It was something that goes without saying. However, I did not join the Komsomol 15. It was necessary to tell one’s biography at the general meeting, which to me meant presenting a lie, which was not proper. It was wrong to start the life of a Komsomol member with lying. This was unacceptable to me, and I just decided to refuse from the Komsomol membership. I knew this was going to make my future life complicated and hinder my going to college, but I still did not want to tell lies.

When I turned 15, I had to quit my studies at the 8th grade at school and go to work to earn my living. Mama was very ill then and could not provide for both of us. It was hard to get any employment for me. I was 15, and labor code allowed going to work at the age of 16. The garment factory was the only place I could be employed. Young workers were in demand there. It took two to three months to learn working at the production line and it was easy. I remember they made men’s shirts.

After I learned this I went to the 8th grade in the evening school. I was the youngest in my class. I did well at school. After finishing the 10th grade I went to the Riga extramural textile affiliate of Moscow College. What I actually wanted was to go to the Philological Department at university to study English or psychology, but all of my adult acquaintances were telling me these were professions with uncertain perspectives that were not going to provide for a living. They were looking at things from practical perspectives. They were telling me that I had to get a practical profession, which could support and provide food in the future, and that this was the only right approach to choosing a profession. Therefore, I went to the textile college. I had academic leaves to take exams and worked the rest of the time.

However strange it may seem, even in the 1950s the Jewish life in Riga was in full swing. I met some Jewish guys and girls and went to the synagogue with them. It wasn’t that I was particularly looking for only Jewish friends, but I liked being among Jews. We could discuss Jewish topics and what concerned us freely. Whenever there was a non-Jew among us, we avoided these subjects. We didn’t want to impose our problems on other people. There were also young people from mixed families among us.

I remember Stalin’s death in 1953 very well. I was 16 at the time, no longer a child. Life had made me mature at young age. Some of my acquaintances were dissidents. Besides exile and resettlement, they were talking about political exile and arrests of cosmopolitans 16, ‘enemies of the people.’ I also heard at work that one or another Jew was arrested for cosmopolitism. I also remember the Doctors’ Plot 17 process well. Before March 1953 I knew much about the misdeeds of the Soviet regime, and therefore, I felt no sadness about Stalin’s death.

I remember hearing this news. I was visiting my acquaintances in Estonia then. We did not listen to the radio. A young girl, who was an Estonian school teacher, ran into the house. She was greatly excited and pronounced before stepping across the threshold: ‘Imagine what, the radio announced Stalin has dropped dead.’ She did say ‘dropped dead”. I was astounded at how she was not afraid of saying it openly. She was carrying a little dog, and she took a slice of sausage from a plate and gave it to her dog: ‘May you feast, too.’ I remember this. I was quite shocked by her conduct. I thought how could one be happy about someone passing away, but as for me, I felt no grieving. I felt no joy either. I just accepted the news.

Married life

In my college I met a guy from Tallinn. His name was Moris Blumberg. He was visiting his aunt in Riga. I liked him. He was mature for his age. Moris studied at the Polytechnic Institute in Tallinn. He was 22 years old, but he already had a clear goal in life. However, what united us most of all was that we had much in common about the life we had had. His family was also deported from Kiev, and we had much in common. Both of us were children of enemies of the people. It somehow turned out that we could openly speak about what he had never told anyone. This brought us closer to one another.

We corresponded a whole year. Moris often visited Riga. I remember how happy we were, when Khrushchev 18 spoke at the 20th Party Congress 19 saying that our resettlement was illegal and wrong. Khrushchev’s speech was like a ray of light for us, and we were hoping that the hard times had passed.

In 1960, when I was a 3rd-year student, we got married and I moved to Tallinn. My husband’s parents arranged a wedding for us. At that time it wasn’t possible to have a traditional Jewish wedding with a chuppah. This was just dangerous. My husband’s parents lived in Tallinn, but they came from Viljandi where they had relatives and friends. This was where our wedding took place. Moris’ parents were well known and respected in Viljandi, and there were about 80 guests at our wedding. It was a beautiful wedding. Our wedding was registered at the registry office of Viljandi. The wedding ceremony was conducted in the Estonian language. At that time I knew not a word in Estonian, and I had to be told when to say ‘yes.’

After the wedding we moved in with my husband’s parents. My mother stayed in Riga. Moris’ parents accepted me like I was one of them. My mother-in-law used to say she always wanted a daughter, but she only had two sons, and that I was like a daughter to her. My husband’s father also said I had become his daughter, and he would not allow anyone to hurt me. I found a family for the first time in my life. I had been deprived of a real family environment, when a child. It wasn’t before I got married that I felt I had parents.

When joining the Blumberg family, I felt like they were my original family, my home and everything my heart had always strived for, however subconsciously. I had missed the feeling of a Jewish home, and when saying ‘Jewish,’ that’s what I mean. I had this all in my new family. I can say only little about my own father, but I would like to say more about my second father, my father-in-law, Rachmiel Blumberg, a very nice person. I called him my ‘father,’ because this was what he was to me. He replaced my own father, who was taken away from me, when I was a child.

Viljandi was a small and very beautiful town. Before the war there were many Jewish families living in Viljandi. They were workmen, craftsmen, tailors, tinsmiths and entrepreneurs. Rachmiel Blumberg was born in 1897. He came from a large and very poor Jewish family. He became a tailor’s apprentice at a very young age. This was a difficult school of life. Besides his apprentice’s assignments he had to do whatever housework errands.

I remember a story from Rachmiel’s childhood that he told me. Once his master sent Rachmiel to deliver an order to a wealthy family. The housewife was making cutlets in the kitchen. She left Rachmiel waiting in the kitchen while she went to get the money. Rachmiel was as hungry as ever, and the cutlets’ smell was so tempting. He grabbed a cutlet and put it in his bosom. It was burning hot, and the scar on his skin remained there as the memory that stolen things were always a burning memory. 

Rachmiel became a tailor. They said in Viljandi that he knew his business however young he was. He was doing well and managed to open a garment store before long. In 1934 Rachmiel married Hana, a young and talented girl. She was 17 years younger than he. In 1938 their son Moris was born, and one year later his brother Rafail came into this world. The family business prospered and everything was going well.

When the Soviet rule was established in Estonia, many of Rachmiel’s friends left the country. They were also telling Rachmiel that he should leave, but Rachmiel believed he had no one and nothing to fear: he had lived a decent life and made his fortune through hard work and persistence. By that time he already owned a large store in the center of Viljandi.

It goes without saying that shortly after the Soviet rule was established in Estonia, the store was nationalized. Rachmiel’s employees wrote a letter to the NKVD requesting to let Rachmiel stay as director of the store. Rachmiel came from a poor family and lived a hard life, and he knew whatever concerns were worrying common people and treated them with sympathy. His employees thought much of him. However, their letter didn’t help, and Rachmiel lost his store and the job. Rachmiel took to tailoring again and had his clients.

Then 14th June 1941 came. Someone knocked on the door and Hana opened it. Those were NKVD officers. They told the family to pack promptly and leave. Rachmiel was sentenced to five years in a strict security camp in Sverdlovsk region. Hana and their two children were sent to the village of Sbornoye, in Tomsk region. Estonian and Jewish families resided in barracks. Moris was three and Rafail was one year and a half. Hana had to go to work. The term of their exile was indefinite. Rachmiel survived the camp. His craft helped him. He made clothes for prisoners and employees. Rachmiel was lucky that his expertise was in demand.

He was released in 1946 and granted permission to go back to Estonia. However, his wife and sons were sentenced to permanent residence in exile and were not allowed to relocate. Rachmiel had an entrepreneur’s mind and plotted a fantastic plan. At first he planned to take his children out of Siberia, and then he thought that he might as well consider other children. It was just his luck that in 1946 there was a secret direction issued to the NKVD, according to which underage orphans were allowed to go back to Estonia.

Rachmiel took care of his sons first. He told me funny episodes occurring during his trips. On his trip with his sons he bought them hats. The hats were too big. Moris could manage in his hat, but his younger brother’s hat was a nuisance continuously falling down onto his nose. Rachmiel made two holes in the hat for the eyes. Everybody was laughing at the way it looked, but the hat was spoiled. Rachmiel also bought his sons two pairs of shoes, and the sales assistant tied shoe-strings together. As it happened, he did two left and two right shoes separately. Rachmiel put the shoes into a bag, in which some thieves made a hole and stole two left shoes. Rachmiel, when he found this out, went asking the passengers on the train if one of them got two left shoes to bargain one for the right shoe, but no one responded.

When Rachmiel arrived in Estonia, he started asking, who had underage relatives in exile. Many people wanted to have their relatives back in Estonia, but this involved money to pay for the tickets, food on the way and even bribes. Very few could afford such expenses, and Rachmiel took to making leather coats. This job paid well, and Rachmiel managed to save some money. When he had the necessary amount, he traveled to Siberia to take a few children back home. He made five or six such trips. Rachmiel wanted to take back as many Estonian and Jewish children, as he could manage. This was a risky trick, but he managed all right.

There were numerous risks on the way as well: document checks, thefts and infections. Each time Rachmiel had a few children with him. He was asked why he had so many children with him, and he decided to say that he had been married a few times, and that he wanted his children to be with him. Of course, this was just an excuse, but one had to know Rachmiel to understand why people believed him. He could always find a common language with any person. People could feel his friendliness and appreciated his humor. Rachmiel knew how to convince other people.

Once Rachmiel and the group of children he had with him had to stay in Tomsk for a week. Rachmiel had to buy tickets and pack food for a week. He was very busy and had older children looking after the younger ones. To reward their effort he took the children to the cinema. Some of the children Rachmiel brought back to Estonia had to change their names since many people sympathized with those children and wanted to help them, while the others might report to authorities that those children were no orphans and that their parents were still in exile.

This was what happened to Andres, a well known cameraman and film producer in Estonia nowadays. His mother had stayed in exile, and Andres had to take another name. Andres returned to Estonia in 1947. Rachmiel was arrested, being reported to authorities. He had to spend some time in jail. The children he had with him had to go back to Siberia. However, this mission did not stop, and Rachmiel was its leader. This is what our father was like. I called him my father. He did replace my own father, of whom I only had vague memories. 

Rachmiel was a modest person. He never boasted or told us about this period of his life. I knew nothing of this experience of his. Once we started discussing education and that one had to study. Rachmiel told me then that he might have been considered a person having higher legal education thinking of what he had been through, when only his natural talents and life-long experience helped him to survive. He had to think of each and every detail to have his stories trustworthy and hard to verify at the same time.

Nobody has counted how many children he managed to bring back home, but according to what he told us there must have been 35 to 50 of them. Once I asked Rachmiel why he was doing this considering that the risk was great and that this might have had impacted himself and his sons. He replied that he knew that if those children had stayed in exile they were destined to not only hard life and famine, but also, to the assimilation, lack of their own cultural and language environment.

In Estonia many of them realized their personal and professional potential. Those children grew up and had their own life, but my father always believed them to be his own children. When hearing about their successes he smiled and said: ’Look, this is my boy!’ Many of them kept visiting him. Peter Kaup, one of them, who was a well known cameraman in Estonia, moved to Finland. When visiting Estonia, he came to see my father, and I remember their meetings. I can’t remember all of them, but my father did.

For some time I was the only member of the family, who was aware of these children being rescued, the only member, in whom my father confided. Even my husband and his younger brother knew nothing of this. Rachmiel, for some reason, wasn’t sure that they would understand his motives, considering that he put his family at risk and also, spent a lot on this effort.

We stayed with my husband’s family for about five years. Our son was born in 1961. We gave him the name of Nevil. My mother-in-law chose this name for him. Before the war she had a close friend living in Viljandi. Her name was Rita. She gave birth to a son, and his name was Nevil. When the Soviet rule was established in Estonia, Rita and her family moved to Australia. She had relatives there. Rita was trying to convince my mother-in-law and the family to join them, but Rachmiel refused bluntly. He was a patriot of Estonia and was sure that nothing bad could happen to him in his own country. My mother-in-law asked me to name my son Nevil. I liked the name.

The Soviet regime did not only fight religion 20, but also, the national identity, and all national rituals, including the Estonian and Jewish ones, were forbidden. However, my father-in-law could not imagine that his grandson was not going to have the brit milah ritual. At his request a mohalim from Leningrad arrived at our house to conduct the circumcision. My husband had a job and was a member of the party by then. He was not very happy about our decision to have our son circumcised. What he was saying was that we shouldn’t expose our baby to pain. Nevil was three months old then. To prevent my husband from feeling that he was violating the party rules, we let him be away from home at the time. Of course, Hana and I also worried that this would cause the baby some pain, but Rachmiel insisted that the tradition was observed to the full. 

I had very close, kind and warm relationships with my husband’s parents as long as they lived. My husband’s mother and I were so close that even my friends felt jealous about us. They were saying that such a relationship between a mother-in-law and her daughter-in-law could not be true. However, this is what it was like between us. I didn’t know how to make Jewish food and had a rather vague idea about Jewish traditions. She taught and educated me. We observed Jewish traditions in the family. We celebrated Jewish holidays.

My husband’s younger brother Rafail got a job assignment 21 and moved to Norilsk where he lived many yeas with his family before moving to Kostroma. This is where he lives now. My husband’s parents, my husband and I lived in Tallinn together before my husband received a room in a shared apartment 22. There were two other Jewish tenants in this apartment. A few years later my husband received an apartment.

On Jewish holidays we visited my husband’s parents. When my mother-in-law grew too old to cook, they joined us on holidays. I remember how happy I was to hear from my mother-in-law that there was nothing else she could teach me to do, and that I had become a better cook than she was. I was very pleased to hear this from her. This was praise for me, considering that Hana was a great housewife and was a model to follow.

My first years in Estonia were very hard. I had to learn the Estonian language. When living in Riga, I had a good conduct of everyday Latvian, and all official documentation was issued in Russian, while living in Estonia required knowing the language. At my work there was no one, who could speak Russian to me. I had to learn the language, and my husband’s family was very supporting.

I had to quit my college since there was no affiliate of the textile college in Estonia. Therefore, I entered the Tallinn College of light industry. I had classes in the evening. My specialty was clothing technology and clothing design. At that time I was pretty much short of time. I had to go to work, study and take care of the child. When thinking about our life in Siberia, I had a feeling that I was living somebody else’s life, that it was a rough copy or a rehearsal before real life. Resettlement took everything away from me. A baby is born to the family where each member of the family loves and cares for it, where it has a perspective of a happy life in the future, when all of a sudden this all collapses to be followed by the life with constant fear and the feeling that you are to blame for something, but you don’t know what exactly you are to blame for.

I had to be continuously hiding and concealing my past, my thoughts and feelings. I knew that even the fact that I had survived was a mere fortuity. I understood that each person had his own life and mine was not that bad, though I missed many things in my life. I wish I had known more about our ancestors, traditions and history to tell our son and now to my grandson. There is little I can tell him about our family, my grandparents and parents. We had a nice family, nothing to be ashamed of. Things could have been different for us.

I’ve been in contact with my friend Dina all my life. When I left Riga for Tallinn, Dina’s family took good care of me. I have faced no anti-Semitism while Dina had to face some. Besides having the unequivocal name of an Israelit, Dina also had a brightly expressed Jewish appearance. She did very well at school. In Dina’s school certificate there were all ‘excellent’ grades, apart from only two ‘good’ grades. After finishing school Dina was going to enter the Medical College. I believe medicine was Dina’s vocation, but she failed to enter the college. They intentionally reduced her grades at the entrance exams, even if it was a half point, but she finally lacked just a little to have the necessary number of points. Dina’s father grudged no money to pay for Dina’s private classes.

For three years in a row Dina tried to pass entrance exams to the Medical College before she gave up and entered the extramural Department of Economics at the Textile College where I was a student, only of a different department. Dina was a talented girl and did well with studying economics, though she had a longing for medicine. Medicine has always been her unaccomplished dream.

Another reason why I’ve faced no anti-Semitism might have been my choice of the place to study and work where there was little competition. I know of only one case at work, when my Jewish origin hindered my career. I had a chance of being employed by a department at the Estonian Ministry of light industry. There was a vacancy of curator for a few factories. My documents were transferred to the HR department, but they were returned.

It was a long time afterward that I got to know why I failed to get this position. Someone told me that there was no way for a Jewish woman, who was not a party member and whose mother resided in Israel to be appointed to this position. Who knew what to expect from me? What if I decided to move to Israel, too? However, I’ve never faced any anti-Semitism on an everyday level. I did know, though, that it existed both in everyday life, and on the governmental level, but it did not concern me.

It was Mama’s dream to move to Israel. She got a chance to make her dream come true during the mass departure of Jews to Israel in the 1970s. She received a letter of invitation from a distant relative. Mama wanted me to divorce my husband and join her, but it was not for me. Mama left in 1970, and our contacts stopped for a long time. At that time one couldn’t even imagine there would be time, when people got an opportunity to travel to Israel or invite their folks to visit them. My friend Dina’s family also moved to Israel at about the same time, and they supported my mother as much as they could there. I got a chance to visit my mother during perestroika after 18 years of separation. Since then I kept visiting her once a year or even more frequently. Mama died in Israel in 2000.

I was also eager to move to Israel, but my husband had problems in this regard. Moris worked at a defense enterprise and had a strict security access permit form. Having access to defense affairs he was not going to be allowed a permit for relocation. He had to resign and find a job, which was not associated with any access permits, in which case he might be allowed to relocate in ten years’ time. Anyway, this wasn’t Moris’ intention. He was fanatically dedicated to what he was doing and believed in the Soviet system. In short, he was an ‘appropriate’ person. Considering the job he had, he was not entitled to travel abroad for whatever purpose.

The only time he traveled abroad was in 1992, when we went to Israel together. When we returned home, I sensed that he had changed a lot. We tried to avoid discussing this subject. I knew that this was a sensitive subject for him. Perhaps, he realized that he was responsible for not giving me or our son a chance to live a different life. Well, nobody could tell what kind of life we might have had in Israel and what it might have been like.

Another thing was important: in the USSR we were living in a closed surrounding. We had no opportunity to compare and evaluate our way of life and the way other people lived in a different system and on a different land. In other countries people could rely on themselves, their own choices and persistence, while we depended on the system, and what we could change was very little. We, Jews, had to keep in mind that the land we lived on was not our own land and that we were second-rate people and had to play supporting roles and stay within permissible limits. The endless and permanent fear inside becomes some sort of a norm. You always pull yourself up: don’t thrust yourself forward, this is not yours, you won’t manage here, they won’t give you this job…

After our visit to Israel Moris understood that there are countries where people have equal initial positions, and each person is responsible for realizing them, while in the USSR we all appeared to be hostages and victims of the system. It’s true, though, that this did not only concern Jews. Moris was a very honest man. I would even say, this was a hypertrophied sense of justice. For him, doing something good to his surrounding was more important than doing some good to himself and his family. This was the way his father was, and he was the same.

Moris was a very tight-lipped person. He hardly ever shared his thoughts and feeling even with me, but I know that after our trip to Israel he started revising his value system. His career, his job, which cost him a lot of effort and life, in the long run, would surely have been much more successful in another country, and he wouldn’t have had to take such tremendous effort, and this thought was bothering him. The thing is, our system was squeezing whatever was possible from a person before dumping him or her. Nobody cared about people or took any interest in those, who could work no longer. Actually, Moris burnt himself at work, and then he passed away at the age of 61.

My husband was a very complex person. He was a born leader. He knew how to build up a team, and he was good at this. He had a strong charisma of a leader. His family and his child did not come first. I wouldn’t say he didn’t love us. No, he loved us as much as he could, but his work came first. It goes without saying that this approach had a negative impact on our marital life. Even my husband’s mood or his involvement in family activities depended on situations at work. However, Moris had broad outlook: he was interested in pictures and books. He started collecting books, when he was a student. My husband was fond of philately. Every now and then I asked him whether he was happy with his life working from morning till night and whether he wanted to do something different. Moris replied that he got at work whatever interesting the world could offer to the full.

It was true, considering that his surrounding was represented by bright individuals, very complete personalities. Their team was recognized on very high levels. For example, the team headed by Moris received the invention award of the Estonian government twice. I knew no details about the kind of work Moris was doing. All I knew was that it was related to the defense complex of the USSR.

I wouldn’t say that our life was secluded. We used to go to exhibitions and concerts, but Moris easily refused from going out, when this was for the sake of his work. Sometimes he came home from work half an hour after the concert we were planning to go to had started. Our life was highly dependent on his job, and his work was a determining factor. At some instants I thought, ‘that’s it, I can’t go on like this’. We had different attitudes in life and life values.

However, each time the thought of hurting his mother and father stopped me. The role my husband’s family, representing a real Jewish family, played in my life was so important to me that I put my decision aside. I was telling myself that I would not leave my husband like that, and that I had to fight and try to somehow change his attitudes. It was easy to say, but hard to do.

Now, looking back at the past years I understand that my husband gave much to me. I had to start work, when I was very young, and I missed the kind of life students were having with its joys and cultural things. I was rather delayed in my intellectual development. My husband and his family helped me to fill up this gap.

At home we celebrated Jewish and Soviet holidays. During the Soviet times the requirement to go to parades on Soviet holidays was mandatory. I went to parades, too. There were lists of those, who did not attend such events, made, and if I failed to attend an event, this would have had a negative impact on my career. However, I wasn’t quite fond of celebrating these holidays.

And there were other things involved. We lived in a rather spacious apartment in the center of the town. And there was a tradition that my husband’s team gathered in our apartment to celebrate holidays. They felt like staying together to celebrate. I liked those people, and had nothing against their visits. Well, of course, I had to cook a lot, but I didn’t mind doing this for my husband. Actually, this was the only reason why I got involved in the celebration of these holidays.

We spoke Yiddish to my husband’s parents, but in our family the language we communicated in was Russian. Our son Nevil studied in the Russian school. He was doing well at school. When he went to the 3rd grade at school, we sent him to a music school. He took violin classes. Nevil finished the Russian school and the music school and entered a music college. When he was still a student, he was offered to join a band as a solo-guitarist. It didn’t take him long to learn the instrument. He was 17 years old at the time. The band turned out to be really good, and they went on a few tours abroad.

Nevil entered the Tallinn Conservatory, but quit his studies after the second year. There was no department where he wished to study, and he didn’t quite like the department where he was actually admitted.

Nevil got married, when he turned 20, but this marriage was a failure. At the age of 25 my son was recruited to the army, and when he returned, his family fell apart. In the army Nevil started composing music, and after he returned to Tallinn he took to music with all seriousness. Nevil gathered an ensemble and they were tape recording their music. For a number of years my son was a rather successful musician. There are annual contests of guitarists in Tallinn, and twice in a row Nevil was a winner of this contest of guitarists. Music was his long-term business, but it brought no high profits to him.

While he was living with us, Nevil could afford to do what he liked without giving much thought to how much he was earning, but when Nevil remarried and they had a baby, he had to earn money to support the family. Nevil went to work at a record company, but some time later he opened an advertising firm of his own. At first he only dealt with advertising music before he expanded his business to advertising other things. He had to learn a lot and he liked this. He fit well in this advertising business, and his company has a good reputation. Unfortunately, his business leaves him little time for music.

Nevil married an Estonian girl. Of course, my husband and I wanted his wife to be Jewish, but there was nothing we could do about it. We are not the kind of parents, who can put pressure on their children. So our son married the girl of his choice, though his decision was a hard thing for my husband and me. I am not dead against mixed marriages. I know some mixed marriages that have resulted in very good families, but to have this, both spouses have to be cultured and educated people and have respect of the culture and religion of each other. If a marriage has this, it’s going to be good and strong. Respect of the partner has to make the foundation of such a marriage.

I have normal everyday relationships with my daughter-in-law, but I have no spiritual contact with her. I am not trying to impose my company or my ideas on her. I just know it makes no sense to do so. It’s impossible to change anything about it. Maybe, there is no need to change anything. She is still very young. She is eight years younger than my son, and perhaps, she will want to be closer to me and change something in our relationships, but it’s going to be her decision. When the soil is not ready yet, you can drop as many seeds as you want, but they won’t grow. This is what was happening in our family: for 10 years we were wasting the grains. Now our son lives his own life: he has a family and his job, and the rest of it comes after these.

Sometimes, growing older, people shift their priorities. What seemed of no significance becomes a top priority. Now I’m beginning to feel that his Jewish identity is gaining importance with my son, and his having a non-Jewish life makes this part of life rather difficult. I am his mother, and I know that he and I have this in our genes, though it has little expression in his actual doings as yet. This knowledge has not matured yet, but Nevil is very close to recognizing it. Their son Mark, my grandson, was born in 1995. He is a nice boy. He goes to an Estonian school. I believe I have a closer contact with him than with his mother.

My mother-in-law, Hana Blumberg, died in 1980. Rachmiel outlived her and died in 1985. They were both buried in the Jewish cemetery in Tallinn and had Jewish funerals. They live on in my memory, these two close people.

I’ve never limited the criteria of my choice of friends to their national identity. I still have Estonian and Russian friends. My friends are the people I feel closeness to. It’s not the national origin, but the personality that matters. However, I gather only my Jewish friends at my home on Jewish holidays. I make traditional Jewish food: gefilte fish, gehakte herring and tsimes. When we get together on Jewish holidays, I feel like remembering everything inmost related to our history and our life. It is important for me to be in the Jewish surrounding on such days.

I can’t say I was a great supporter of the Soviet regime, but I wasn’t a ferocious anti-Soviet opponent either. I actually knew that there was much injustice in the Soviet system. Many people could feel that, but life was going on, and each day demanded new efforts, and I had little time to think about such things. I was no different from other people, and the Soviet system was something given that was not possible to change.

The changes came with perestroika, when books, which had not been allowed before, became available: Solzhenitsyn’s books 23, ‘Doctor Zhivago’ by Boris Pasternak 24, etc. We shared those books reading and discussing them. This was an active period of time, when many people, who had never given a thought to such things as camps and persecution 25 started to reevaluate their views on life. My husband’s and my families knew the truth by no hearsay, but the majority was only beginning to find out the depth and tragic nature of what had happened.

I worked in the clothing industry for 17 years. I worked in the experimental department where we designed clothes to be introduced in production. I liked this job a lot, but in due time lots of standards were established and the element of creativity vanished. Everything was so plain and dull that I no longer enjoyed this work. I decided to do something different.

I was lucky to get a job at the publishing office at the Ministry of Communications. The publishing office reported to the Central Committee propaganda department. I was the only employee, who was not a party member, but they accepted me, anyways. I was responsible for the distribution of newspapers, magazines and books in Estonia. I liked this work and did it successfully and for a long time. It also involved communicating with other people. It was the process of mutual enrichment with good outcomes. I had this job for over 15 years.

The Estonian Jewish community was established during perestroika in 1988. This was the first officially recognized Jewish community in the USSR. I was very happy about it. I only wish my husband’s parents had lived longer to witness this. For many years Tsilia Laud, the head of the community, and I were friends. My husband’s parents and Tsilia’s family were friends. Tsilia worked at my husband’s plant for some time, and this also tied us together. Then Tsilia quit working at the plant and headed the WIZO 26 women’s organization.

I often attended meetings at the community and tried to contribute in its development. At first I was a WIZO volunteer before Tsilia offered me permanent employment with the WIZO, and I was more than happy to accept this offer. I had a lot of work to do. There were sponsors making contributions to charity funds. It was necessary to develop a database to determine the needs of the people under the WIZO care. I was involved in the social center establishment in our community 27. I had to gather a team of people I could fully rely upon. They were to be honest and capable of caring for elderly people, sympathetic and compassionate. I managed this task well, and now we are like a family.

There is a ‘warm home’ program in our social center. It’s my favorite program. It’s no secret that many older people suffer from loneliness more than they do from illnesses or lack of money. This program gives them an opportunity to communicate with other people. Some people agree to have a few people getting together in their apartment. We find people living in the same neighborhood and having common interests.

There is a house where those who had been subject to persecution get together. There is another house: a merely Jewish home where older people get together to speak Yiddish. We discuss whatever subjects in Yiddish. This gives us a chance to remember Yiddish and just speak the language of our childhood. Another nice ‘warm home’ in Tallinn is where former teachers and doctors get together. They are representatives of the same generation and culture having many interests in life. Some of them compose nice poems and the others recite poems by famous poets. They sing and play music, discuss the books they’ve read and plays they’ve seen. They make a joyful company, and having visited them one forgets how old one is.

It is my job to put together the people, who are sure to like each other and enjoy each other’s company. I believe this is a very good program. People find new friends and start to take care of each other. They visit those who are ill and know how their friends are doing. They celebrate Jewish holidays in the community and in their ‘warm homes.’ They feel the need to get together and this helps them to stay optimistic.

In 1991 the Soviet Union collapsed. Was it good or bad? I think this was the right thing to happen that our countries gained independence, though this is a double-edged weapon. I think, there are many more factors bringing our Baltic republics together with Russia than, say, Scandinavian or other European countries. There are two or three generations of people here, who felt very comfortable in the Soviet system. They feel nostalgic about the USSR, though they may feel reluctant about saying this aloud. Besides, I think that from the point of view of economy it would be better, if our Baltic countries were friends or, at least, retained good relationships with Russia. However, this has not been the case in recent years.

There was a lot of good in our Soviet way of life. Anyway, I believe it’s a good thing that we’ve rid ourselves of the USSR. We need to learn by ourselves and feel what it is like to live in a different system. Few people can remember their life in pre-Soviet Estonia. Their children and grandchildren lived during the Soviet period, and now they need to learn another reality. Anyway, whatever is to be will be the outcome of our conscious choice.

I remember how during the putsch 28 residents of the Baltic Republics made a living chain. People were standing holding hands, and they were not only the native residents of our countries, but also, Russians, Ukrainians and Moldavians. And people of all nationalities standing in this chain were thinking emotionally about one thing: we want the Soviet dictate no longer, we don’t want the ‘big brother’ to decide everything for us and impose its own choice on us. Now we can manage our own life, and they are not going to take this right from us.

People, particularly younger people, have obtained tremendous opportunities. They can get good education in whatever country they wish and they can get good jobs. Unfortunately, many of them move to developed European countries where they want to stay. Unfortunately, most of the residents in the Baltic Republics have the nature of individualists. They lack the ‘typical Russian’ feature: the sense of camaraderie, overall collective responsibility and the wish to do more for their country, rather than for themselves. This often becomes a hindrance with us.

My husband died in 2000. We buried him in the Jewish cemetery in Tallinn. Since then I’ve lived alone and my work prevents me from feeling lonely. People need me and I can help them, and this gives me strength to go on. There is still a lot to do, particularly about the nursing service, which is my responsibility. Many people truly need our care and assistance. It would be great, if we could establish a home for such people where they would receive continuous nursing services, medial care and whatever comforts they require.

Social aid is vital for many old people, but on the other hand, they worked hard and have the right to a decent life in their old age. Estonia has very high living standards and miserable pensions. I don’t know what would happen to us, if it were not for the assistance the community provides. I feel sorry that few generations of people, who grew up during the Soviet rule, developed no charity related traditions. It doesn’t occur to those, who have made fortunes, that there might come the day, when they need some help, too. Why do people from abroad provide assistance to us while wealthy people here have no intention to help the others?!

Nowadays, after my husband died, I often look straight into my heart trying to understand my life and my purpose in life. What happened in my childhood was terrifying. It’s frightful that the dreadful mark of ‘enemies of people’ turned many innocent people into outcasts and renegades. What was the fault of these people, particularly the wives of ‘enemies of people’ and their children? Later it turned out that none of them was guilty, but hundreds and thousands of lives had been destroyed, reshaped in the roughest and most barbaric way? This barbarism and this crying injustice should not be forgotten or forgiven.

We make a small group of former convicts. They are the people, who had had their heavy lot in life. They are rather withdrawn, and they don’t like to talk about themselves or about their past. What happened to us is associated with pain and dreadful loses. Memories and talking about what we have lived through mean feeling this pain again. We lived a larger part of life in fear and lies, though we know not what our fault is.

There is a series of programs based on the memories of those who had been resettled on the radio in Estonia. I would like this program to be given the name of ‘Guilty without any guilt.’ We, being the children guilty without any guilt, had to carry this dreadful injustice, which mutilated our lives. This was what the life of my generation was like. There are people from all over Estonia in our group. We meet on 14th June, the Day of Resettlement, each year. This is our memorial day. We are like a family. We are very close. What we had gone through brings us closer to one another.

Glossary

1 Jewish community of Estonia

On 30th March 1988 in a meeting of Jews of Estonia, consisting of 100 people, convened by David Slomka, a resolution was made to establish the Community of Jewish Culture of Estonia (KJCE) and in May 1988 the community was registered in the Tallinn municipal Ispolkom. KJCE was the first independent Jewish cultural organization in the USSR to be officially registered by the Soviet authorities. In 1989 the first Ivrit courses started, although the study of Ivrit was equal to Zionist propaganda and considered to be anti-Soviet activity. Contacts with Jewish organizations of other countries were established. KJCE was part of the Peoples' Front of Estonia, struggling for an independent state. In December 1989 the first issue of the KJCE paper Kashachar (Dawn) was published in Estonian and Russian language. In 1991 the first radio program about Jewish culture and activities of KJCE, 'Sholem Aleichem,' was broadcast in Estonia. In 1991 the Jewish religious community and KJCE had a joined meeting, where it was decided to found the Jewish Community of Estonia.

2 Deportations from the Baltics (1940-1953)

After the Soviet Union occupied the three Baltic states (Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania) in June 1940 as a part of establishing the Soviet system, mass deportation of the local population began. The victims of these were mainly but not exclusively those unwanted by the regime: the local bourgeoisie and the previously politically active strata. Deportations to remote parts of the Soviet Union continued up until the death of Stalin. The first major wave of deportation took place between 11th and 14th June 1941, when 36,000, mostly politically active people were deported. Deportations were reintroduced after the Soviet Army recaptured the three countries from Nazi Germany in 1944. Partisan fights against the Soviet occupiers were going on all up to 1956, when the last squad was eliminated. Between June 1948 and January 1950, in accordance with a Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Council of the USSR under the pretext of 'grossly dodged from labor activity in the agricultural field and led anti-social and parasitic mode of life' from Latvia 52,541, from Lithuania 118,599 and from Estonai 32,450 people were deported. The total number of deportees from the three republics amounted to 203,590. Among them were entire Lithuanian families of different social strata (peasants, workers, intelligentsia), everybody who was able to reject or deemed capable to reject the regime. Most of the exiled died in the foreign land. Besides, about 100,000 people were killed in action and in fusillade for being members of partisan squads and some other 100,000 were sentenced to 25 years in camps.

3 Enemy of the people

Soviet official term; euphemism used for real or assumed political opposition.

4 Occupation of the Baltic Republics (Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania)

Although the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact regarded only Latvia and Estonia as parts of the Soviet sphere of influence in Eastern Europe, according to a supplementary protocol (signed in 28th September 1939) most of Lithuania was also transferred under the Soviets. The three states were forced to sign the 'Pact of Defense and Mutual Assistance' with the USSR allowing it to station troops in their territories. In June 1940 Moscow issued an ultimatum demanding the change of governments and the occupation of the Baltic Republics. The three states were incorporated into the Soviet Union as the Estonian, Latvian and Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republics.

5 NKVD

(Russ.: Narodnyi Komissariat Vnutrennikh Del), People's Committee of Internal Affairs, the supreme security authority in the USSR - the secret police. Founded by Lenin in 1917, it nevertheless played an insignificant role until 1934, when it took over the GPU (the State Political Administration), the political police. The NKVD had its own police and military formations, and also possessed the powers to pass sentence on political matters, and as such in practice had total control over society. Under Stalin's rule the NKVD was the key instrument used to terrorize the civilian population. The NKVD ran a network of labor camps for millions of prisoners, the Gulag. The heads of the NKVD were as follows: Genrikh Yagoda (to 1936), Nikolai Yezhov (to 1938) and Lavrenti Beria. During the war against Germany the political police, the KGB, was spun off from the NKVD. After the war it also operated on USSR-occupied territories, including in Poland, where it assisted the nascent communist authorities in suppressing opposition. In 1946 the NKVD was renamed the Ministry of the Interior.

6 All-Union pioneer organization

A communist organization for teenagers between 10 and 15 years old (cf: boy-/ girlscouts in the US). The organization aimed at educating the young generation in accordance with the communist ideals, preparing pioneers to become members of the Komsomol and later the Communist Party. In the Soviet Union, all teenagers were pioneers.

7 Gulag

The Soviet system of forced labor camps in the remote regions of Siberia and the Far North, which was first established in 1919. However, it was not until the early 1930s that there was a significant number of inmates in the camps. By 1934 the Gulag, or the Main Directorate for Corrective Labor Camps, then under the Cheka's successor organization the NKVD, had several million inmates. The prisoners included murderers, thieves, and other common criminals, along with political and religious dissenters. The Gulag camps made significant contributions to the Soviet economy during the rule of Stalin. Conditions in the camps were extremely harsh. After Stalin died in 1953, the population of the camps was reduced significantly, and conditions for the inmates improved somewhat.

8 Kaunas ghetto

On 24th June 1941 the Germans captured Kaunas. Two ghettoes were established in the city, a small and a big one, and 48,000 Jews were taken there. Within two and a half months the small ghetto was eliminated and during the 'Grossaktion' of 28th-29th October, thousands of the survivors were murdered, including children. The remaining 17,412 people in the big ghetto were mobilized to work. On 27th-28th March 1944 another 18,000 were killed and 4,000 were taken to different camps in July before the Soviet Army captured the city. The total number of people who perished in the Kaunas ghetto was 35,000.

9 First Estonian Republic

Until 1917 Estonia was part of the Russian Empire. Due to the revolutionary events in Russia, the political situation in Estonia was extremely unstable in 1917. Various political parties sprang up; the Bolshevik party was particularly strong. National forces became active, too. In February 1918, they succeeded in forming the provisional government of the First Estonian Republic, proclaiming Estonia an independent state on 24th February 1918.

10 Joint (American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee)

The Joint was formed in 1914 with the fusion of three American Jewish committees of assistance, which were alarmed by the suffering of Jews during World War I. In late 1944, the Joint entered Europe's liberated areas and organized a massive relief operation. It provided food for Jewish survivors all over Europe, it supplied clothing, books and school supplies for children. It supported cultural amenities and brought religious supplies for the Jewish communities. The Joint also operated DP camps, in which it organized retraining programs to help people learn trades that would enable them to earn a living, while its cultural and religious activities helped re-establish Jewish life. The Joint was also closely involved in helping Jews to emigrate from Europe and from Muslim countries. The Joint was expelled from East Central Europe for decades during the Cold War and it has only come back to many of these countries after the fall of communism. Today the Joint provides social welfare programs for elderly Holocaust survivors and encourages Jewish renewal and communal development.

11 Creation of the State of Israel

From 1917 Palestine was a British mandate. Also in 1917 the Balfour Declaration was published, which supported the idea of the creation of a Jewish homeland in Palestine. Throughout the interwar period, Jews were migrating to Palestine, which caused the conflict with the local Arabs to escalate. On the other hand, British restrictions on immigration sparked increasing opposition to the mandate powers. Immediately after World War II there were increasing numbers of terrorist attacks designed to force Britain to recognize the right of the Jews to their own state. These aspirations provoked the hostile reaction of the Palestinian Arabs and the Arab states. In February 1947 the British foreign minister Ernest Bevin ceded the Palestinian mandate to the UN, which took the decision to divide Palestine into a Jewish section and an Arab section and to create an independent Jewish state. On 14th May 1948 David Ben Gurion proclaimed the creation of the State of Israel. It was recognized immediately by the US and the USSR. On the following day the armies of Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Iraq, Syria and Lebanon attacked Israel, starting a war that continued, with intermissions, until the beginning of 1949 and ended in a truce.

12 Iron Curtain

A term popularized by Sir Winston Churchill in a speech in 1946. He used it to designate the Soviet Union's consolidation of its grip over Eastern Europe. The phrase denoted the separation of East and West during the Cold War, which placed the totalitarian states of the Soviet bloc behind an 'Iron Curtain'. The fall of the Iron Curtain corresponds to the period of perestroika in the former Soviet Union, the reunification of Germany, and the democratization of Eastern Europe beginning in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

13 Perestroika (Russian for restructuring)

Soviet economic and social policy of the late 1980s, associated with the name of Soviet politician Mikhail Gorbachev. The term designated the attempts to transform the stagnant, inefficient command economy of the Soviet Union into a decentralized, market-oriented economy. Industrial managers and local government and party officials were granted greater autonomy, and open elections were introduced in an attempt to democratize the Communist Party organization. By 1991, perestroika was declining and was soon eclipsed by the dissolution of the USSR.

14 Sochnut (Jewish Agency)

International NGO founded in 1929 with the aim of assisting and encouraging Jews throughout the world with the development and settlement of Israel. It played the main role in the relations between Palestine, then under British Mandate, the world Jewry and the Mandatory and other powers. In May 1948 the Sochnut relinquished many of its functions to the newly established government of Israel, but continued to be responsible for immigration, settlement, youth work, and other activities financed by voluntary Jewish contributions from abroad. Since the fall of the Iron Curtain in 1989, the Sochnut has facilitated the aliyah and absorption in Israel for over one million new immigrants.

15 Komsomol

Communist youth political organization created in 1918. The task of the Komsomol was to spread the ideas of communism and involve the worker and peasant youth in building the Soviet Union. The Komsomol also aimed at giving a communist upbringing by involving the worker youth in the political struggle, supplemented by theoretical education. The Komsomol was more popular than the Communist Party because with its aim of education people could accept uninitiated young proletarians, whereas party members had to have at least a minimal political qualification.

16 Campaign against ‘cosmopolitans’

The campaign against 'cosmopolitans', i.e. Jews, was initiated in articles in the central organs of the Communist Party in 1949. The campaign was directed primarily at the Jewish intelligentsia and it was the first public attack on Soviet Jews as Jews. 'Cosmopolitans' writers were accused of hating the Russian people, of supporting Zionism, etc. Many Yiddish writers as well as the leaders of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee were arrested in November 1948 on charges that they maintained ties with Zionism and with American 'imperialism'. They were executed secretly in 1952. The anti-Semitic Doctors' Plot was launched in January 1953. A wave of anti-Semitism spread through the USSR. Jews were removed from their positions, and rumors of an imminent mass deportation of Jews to the eastern part of the USSR began to spread. Stalin's death in March 1953 put an end to the campaign against 'cosmopolitans.'

17 Doctors’ Plot

The Doctors' Plot was an alleged conspiracy of a group of Moscow doctors to murder leading government and party officials. In January 1953, the Soviet press reported that nine doctors, six of whom were Jewish, had been arrested and confessed their guilt. As Stalin died in March 1953, the trial never took place. The official paper of the Party, the Pravda, later announced that the charges against the doctors were false and their confessions obtained by torture. This case was one of the worst anti-Semitic incidents during Stalin's reign. In his secret speech at the Twentieth Party Congress in 1956 Khrushchev stated that Stalin wanted to use the Plot to purge the top Soviet leadership.

18 Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971)

Soviet communist leader. After Stalin's death in 1953, he became first secretary of the Central Committee, in effect the head of the Communist Party of the USSR. In 1956, during the 20th Party Congress, Khrushchev took an unprecedented step and denounced Stalin and his methods. He was deposed as premier and party head in October 1964. In 1966 he was dropped from the Party's Central Committee.

19 Twentieth Party Congress

At the Twentieth Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956 Khrushchev publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what had happened in the USSR during Stalin's leadership.

20 Struggle against religion

The 1930s was a time of anti-religion struggle in the USSR. In those years it was not safe to go to synagogue or to church. Places of worship, statues of saints, etc. were removed; rabbis, Orthodox and Roman Catholic priests disappeared behind KGB walls.

21 Mandatory job assignment in the USSR

Graduates of higher educational institutions had to complete a mandatory 2-year job assignment issued by the institution from which they graduated. After finishing this assignment young people were allowed to get employment at their discretion in any town or organization.

22 Communal apartment

The Soviet power wanted to improve housing conditions by requisitioning 'excess' living space of wealthy families after the Revolution of 1917. Apartments were shared by several families with each family occupying one room and sharing the kitchen, toilet and bathroom with other tenants. Because of the chronic shortage of dwelling space in towns communal or shared apartments continued to exist for decades. Despite state programs for the construction of more houses and the liquidation of communal apartments, which began in the 1960s, shared apartments still exist today.

23 Solzhenitsyn, Alexander (1918-2000)

Russian novelist and publicist. He spent eight years in prisons and labor camps, and three more years in enforced exile. After the publication of a collection of his short stories in 1963, he was denied further official publication of his work, and so he circulated them clandestinely, in samizdat publications, and published them abroad. He was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1970 and was exiled from the Soviet Union in 1974 after publishing his famous book, The Gulag Archipelago, in which he describes Soviet labor camps.

24 Pasternak, Boris Leonidovich (1890-1960)

Russian poet and novelist, who stood up for independence in creation. In the times of the Great Terror (1934-38), Pasternak defended the repressed on a number of occasions. He translated modern and classic foreign poetry. His major work was the novel 'Doctor Zhivago', depicting the fate of the Russian intelligentsia with tragic collisions of the Revolution and the Civil War. The novel was banned in the Soviet Union, but appeared in an Italian translation in 1957 and later in other languages. In the Soviet Union it was published only in 1988. In 1958 Pasternak was awarded the Nobel Prize in literature, but the furor stirred up in the Soviet Union forced him to reject the award. It was posthumously given to his son in 1989.

25 Great Terror (1934-1938)

During the Great Terror, or Great Purges, which included the notorious show trials of Stalin's former Bolshevik opponents in 1936-1938 and reached its peak in 1937 and 1938, millions of innocent Soviet citizens were sent off to labor camps or killed in prison. The major targets of the Great Terror were communists. Over half of the people who were arrested were members of the party at the time of their arrest. The armed forces, the Communist Party, and the government in general were purged of all allegedly dissident persons; the victims were generally sentenced to death or to long terms of hard labor. Much of the purge was carried out in secret, and only a few cases were tried in public 'show trials'. By the time the terror subsided in 1939, Stalin had managed to bring both the Party and the public to a state of complete submission to his rule. Soviet society was so atomized and the people so fearful of reprisals that mass arrests were no longer necessary. Stalin ruled as absolute dictator of the Soviet Union until his death in March 1953.

26 WIZO

Women's International Zionist Organization, founded in London in 1920 with humanitarian purposes aiming at supporting Jewish women all over the world in the field of education, economics, science and culture. A network of health, social and educational institutions was created in Palestine between 1921 and 1933, along with numerous local groups worldwide. After WWII its office was moved to Tel Aviv. WIZO became an advisory organ to the UN after WWII (similar to UNICEF or ECOSOC). Today it operates on a voluntary basis, as a party-neutral, non-profit organization, with about 250,000 members in 50 countries (2003).

27 Hesed

Meaning care and mercy in Hebrew, Hesed stands for the charity organization founded by Amos Avgar in the early 20th century. Supported by Claims Conference and Joint Hesed helps for Jews in need to have a decent life despite hard economic conditions and encourages development of their self-identity. Hesed provides a number of services aimed at supporting the needs of all, and particularly elderly members of the society. The major social services include: work in the center facilities (information, advertisement of the center activities, foreign ties and free lease of medical equipment); services at homes (care and help at home, food products delivery, delivery of hot meals, minor repairs); work in the community (clubs, meals together, day-time polyclinic, medical and legal consultations); service for volunteers (training programs). The Hesed centers have inspired a real revolution in the Jewish life in the FSU countries. People have seen and sensed the rebirth of the Jewish traditions of humanism. Currently over eighty Hesed centers exist in the FSU countries. Their activities cover the Jewish population of over eight hundred settlements.

28 1991 Moscow coup d'etat

Starting spontaneously on the streets of Moscow, its leaders went public on 19th August. TASS (Soviet Telegraphical Agency) made an announcement that Gorbachev had been relieved of his duties for health reasons. His powers were assumed by Vice President Gennady Yanayev. A State Committee on the State of Emergency (GKChP) was established, led by eight officials, including KGB head Vladimir Kryuchkov, Soviet Prime Minister Valentin Pavlov, and Defense Minister Dmitry Yazov. Seizing on President Mikhail Gorbachev's summer absence from the capital, eight of the Soviet leader's most trusted ministers attempted to take control of the government. Within three days, the poorly planned coup collapsed and Gorbachev returned to the Kremlin. But an era had abruptly ended. The Soviet Union, which the coup plotters had desperately tried to save, was dead.

Hilda Sobota

Interview Hilda Sobota

Meine Familiengeschichte
Meine Kindheit
Während des Krieges
Nach dem Krieg

Meine Familiengeschichte

Mein Vater, Siegmund Schwarz, wurde am 3.8.1866 in Mähren, in Nikolsburg geboren. Er hatte einen Bruder und drei unverheiratete Schwestern. Ich kenne nur die Vornamen von zwei Schwestern. Sie hießen Emma und Jenny. Die Großmutter, den Großvater und die Schwestern habe ich nicht gekannt. Die sind wahrscheinlich in Mähren geblieben. Zwei Söhne des Bruders meines Vaters sind nach Wien gegangen.

Bei dem Großvater und der bösen Stiefgroßmutter waren wir nur zweimal. Meine richtige Großmutter war gestorben, die habe ich nicht gekannt. Der Großvater hatte eine Fleischhauerei. Als meine Großmutter starb, hat der Großvater noch einmal geheiratet, allein hat er es ja nicht schaffen können, drei Kinder und das Geschäft.
Für die Stiefgroßmutter waren wir nichts, nur ihre wirkliche Familie zählte.
Sie lebten in Stupava, in der Nähe von Pressburg. Deutsch heißt der Ort Stampfen.
Mein Großvater war ein sehr frommer Jude.

Meine Mutter, Anna Schwarz, geborene Nasch, wurde in Stupava am 18.4.1870 geboren. Sie hatte zwei Brüder:
Ludwig Nasch hatte drei Töchter und zwei Söhne, blieb in Stupava und war Viehhändler dort.
Fritz Nasch wohnte in Wien, besaß eine Fleischhauerei im 19. Bezirk und hatte drei Töchter und zwei Söhne. Zu denen hatten wir sehr engen Kontakt. Was aus denen dann geworden ist, weiß ich nicht.

Die Mutter ist schon als junges Mädchen nach Wien gekommen. Wahrscheinlich hat sie irgendeine Tante aufgenommen und sie hat in Wien meinen Vater kennen gelernt und ist dann in Wien geblieben.
Ich kann mich erinnern, als wir der Stiefgroßmutter einmal beim Abwasch geholfen haben und wir haben ein fleischiges Messer in einen milchigen Topf gesteckt, hat sie uns das Messer weggenommen und es in den Sand hineingesteckt damit es wieder koscher wird.
Ich war zwei Mal in Stupava, einmal als junges Mädchen, vierzehn Tage auf Urlaub und einmal, da war meine Mutter gestorben, da sind wir auch hinunter gefahren, aber ganz kurz nur.
Vom dritten Bezirk hat es eine Straßenbahn nach Pressburg gegeben, aber wir sind mit der Bahn gefahren.
Ich kann mich daran erinnern, wie ich den Großvater das erste Mal sah, aber nicht erkannt habe. Wir haben damals noch nachmittags Schule gehabt, Handarbeiten, Turnen und so etwas.
Wir haben im dritten Stock gewohnt, und ich gehe die Treppen runter, da kommt in der Hauseinfahrt ein komisches Manderl mit einem komischen Hut, insgeheim habe ich das Lachen verbergen müssen, und er kommt zu mir und sagt: „Wissen Sie wo, die Frau Schwarz wohnt?“ „Ja, im dritten Stock, Tür Nummer zehn“ und ich habe mich beeilt, ich musste ja in die Schule. In der Schule habe ich dann von dem komischen Mann erzählt, - aber das war mein Großvater!
Mit der Verwandtschaft mütterlicherseits waren wir viel zusammen.
Wenn meine Mutter ihre Cousins und Cousinen besucht hat, hat sie uns Kinder mitgenommen.
An die Namen erinnere ich mich nicht. Ich weiß nur, wo sie gewohnt haben. Ein Teil hat gewohnt im neunzehnten Bezirk, bei der Kreuzung wo der „38“ nach Grinzing und der „39“ nach Sievering gefahren sind. Direkt in dieser Gasse haben sie gewohnt. Zwei Gassen weiter hat auch jemand von der Mutter gewohnt, mit dem wir Kontakt hatten.
Bei uns war die Mutter dominant, in jeder Weise. Vom Vater zum Beispiel, habe ich ein einziges Mal eine Ohrfeige gekriegt, die Mutter hat gedroschen.
Die Mutter hat sechs Kinder zur Welt gebracht, sie war eingedeckt mit Arbeit.

Mein Vater war Verkäufer in einem Herrenkleidergeschäft am Sparkassenplatz im Kleiderhaus Hahn. Das war ein bekanntes Geschäft im 14. Bezirk, jetzt ist es der 15. Bezirk.
Trotzdem die Eltern sparen haben müssen - der Vater hat ja nicht weiß Gott was verdient - haben uns die Eltern jeden was lernen lassen.
Die christlichen Kinder, wenn sie arm waren, sind als Fabrikarbeiter in die Fabrik gegangen, Wir haben alle was gelernt. Aber ich glaube, das haben alle jüdische Eltern gemacht, die haben lieber nichts gegessen.

Die Mutter mußte alles machen, waschen, kochen, putzen. Ich war acht oder neun Jahre alt, und da habe ich schon zu Hause den Küchenboden aufgewaschen.

Wir haben jeden Feiertag eingehalten. Damals war ja schon eine sehr schlechte Zeit, da war es Sitte, das die, denen es ein bisschen besser gegangen ist, am Freitag nach dem Tempel irgendeinen armen Juden mit nach Hause genommen haben. die Mutter hat am Freitag immer jemanden mitgenommen, so war sie.

Ernst, mein ältesten Bruder, wurde 1890 in Wien geboren. Ich habe ihn fast nie gesehen, er war schon sechzehn Jahre alt, als ich auf die Welt gekommen bin und er ist mit siebzehn, achtzehn Jahren aus dem Haus. Er hat als Verkäufer gearbeitet und ist nach Palästina ausgewandert und starb in Tel Aviv.

Frieda, meine älteste Schwester, wurde 1894 in Wien geboren. Sie war Schneiderin und heiratete Siegfried Reiss. Sie hatten sieben Kinder: Erwin, Leopold, Walter, Hans, Elisabeth, Anna und ich verstehe nicht, warum ich mich weder an den Namen noch an das Gesicht des siebenten Kindes erinnern kann.
Ihr Sohn Erwin wurde 1922 und Walter wurde 1924 geboren, Leopold 1926, Anna 1927, Hans wurde 1935 und Elisabeth 1937.
Hans wurde, ich glaube 1939, mit einem Kindertransport der Kultusgemeinde nach Oslo geschickt. Er fand Aufnahme in einer Rabbinerfamilie. Wir haben so sehr gehofft, er hätte überlebt, aber die ganze Familie wurde ermordet.
(Frieda Reiss, ihr Mann Siegfried und sechs ihrer Kinder wurden am 14.9.1942 von Wien nach Maly Trostinec deportiert und ermordet). Niemand hat überlebt. Erwin und Walter hätten sich retten können, aber sie wollten bei ihrer Mutter bleiben.

Meine Schwester Grete wurde Mai 1900 geboren. Sie war Kontoristin in einem Büro, war nicht verheiratet und hat bis zum Tode meines Vaters mit ihm zusammen gewohnt. Sie wurde nach Auschwitz deportiert und ermordet.

Mein Bruder Hans wurde 1903 geboren. Er war Verkäufer in einem Damenmodengeschäft. Er war in Wien mit Grete, einer christlichen Frau verheiratet. Sie bekamen eine Tochter, die hieß Inge. Er ließ sich vor dem Krieg scheiden, verlor seine Arbeit und wanderte mit ein paar Freunden gemeinsam 1935 nach Palästina aus. Dort heiratete er eine polnische Jüdin. Ihren Namen habe ich leider vergessen. Ihr Sohn Ariel wurde 1941 oder 1942 geboren. Er lebt in Israel.

Meine Kindheit

Ich wurde am 6.12.1906 in Wien geboren und meine jüngste Schwester Ella wurde 1909 geboren. Sie wurde Schneiderin und heiratete Ludwig Weizs. Sie besaßen gemeinsam ein Elektrikgeschäft. 1938 flohen sie nach Palästina. 1947 kamen sie wieder nach Wien, bekamen ihr Geschäft zurück und 1947 wurde ihr Sohn Willi geboren.

Von meinen Geschwistern lebt niemand mehr.

Ich habe nie Hilda geheißen bei der Mutter, immer Hilduschka oder Hildinko.
Unsere Wohnung war sehr klein. Von meinem zweiten Lebensjahr bis zu meinem neunten Lebensjahr haben wir in einer Zimmer-Küche Wohnung gelebt.
Ich habe mit dem Vater im Bett geschlafen, die Kleine mit der Mutter im Bett. Die Schwester hatte in einer Kommode eine Lade zum heraus ziehen, das war ihr Bett. Wo die anderen zwei, der Bruder und die Schwester, geschlafen haben, daran kann ich mich gar nicht mehr erinnern.
1915, als ich neun Jahre alt war, das war dann das erste Kriegsjahr vom ersten Weltkrieg, sind wir in eine andere Wohnung umgezogen. Da hatten wir dann ein Kabinett mehr, also Zimmer, Küche und Kabinett.
Da war der große Bruder schon nicht mehr zu Hause, wir waren nur noch fünf Kinder, und es war dann ein bisschen leichter.
Alle armen Leute haben so gewohnt wie wir.
Wir wohnten im Fünfzehnten Bezirk, damals war es noch der Vierzehnte, auf der Sechshauserstrasse. Die größere Wohnung war in der Braunhirschengasse.

Ich war fünf Jahre in der Volksschule und drei Jahre in der Bürgerschule.
Das waren normale Schulen, keine jüdischen, und dann bin ich zwei Jahre in die Handelsschule gegangen. Die war aber von einem jüdischen Verein gegründet, sonst hätte es sich die Mutter nicht leisten können, mich auf die Handelsschule zu schicken.
Ich habe eine phantastische Lehrerin in der Schule gehabt, aber die Ella, meine Schwester, hat Antisemitismus in der Schule gespürt. Damals war es so eingerichtet, wenn die Schülerin in Deutsch gut war, dann hat sie Anspruch gehabt auf Französischstunden. Ich bin in Französischstunden gegangen. Die Ella war bestimmt mindestens so gut wie ich, aber die Lehrerin hat gesagt „Nein“.
Das war in derselben Schule, aber es war eine andere Lehrerin. Die war antisemitisch.
In jeder Klasse waren drei oder vier jüdische Mädchen. Das waren damals nur Mädchenklassen.
In einer anderen Schule habe ich einmal in der Woche eine Stunde am Nachmittag Religionsunterricht gehabt.
An Schreiben kann ich mich nicht mehr erinnern, aber an das Lesen. Ein paar Buchstaben, nicht alle, aber ein paar Buchstaben kann ich noch.

Ich habe ja noch den Kaiser erlebt! Als er gestorben ist, das war 1916, da war ich zehn Jahre. Da sind wir auf der Mariahilferstrasse gestanden, und die ganze Mariahilferstrasse war gesäumt von Leuten, die zugeschaut haben, wie der Sarg von Schönbrunn in die Hofburg überführt worden ist.
Ich habe es ja nicht weit gehabt zur Mariahilferstrasse.
Wir hatten in der Nähe einen wunderschönen Park, damals hieß er Kaiserpark, jetzt Auer Welsbach-Park. Im Park sind die jüdischen Frau immer zusammen gesessen, und die Kinder dieser Frauen, das waren Freundinnen. Im Park war ein sehr großer Teich, der war für die Kinder zum Schwimmen hergerichtet. Dort habe ich Schwimmen gelernt.
Bei uns war ja das Theresienbad ganz in der Nähe, da sind viele Kinder Schwimmen gegangen. Wir nicht, wir sind in die Freibäder gegangen und der Teich im Kaiserpark war wunderschön. Es hat nichts gekostet, es gab Umkleidekabinen, also, sie haben schon viel für die Kinder gemacht.
Wir haben eine wunderschöne Kindheit gehabt. Die Mutter hat sich um uns gesorgt, wie eine Glucke, wenn sie auf den Küken sitzt. Wo sie konnte, hat sie geholfen. Das werde ich nie vergessen, das macht auch nur eine jüdische Mami.
Ich bin mit sechzehn in die Tanzschule gegangen, da ist die Mutter die ersten Male mitgegangen, damit sie sieht, ob ich auch einen Tänzer kriege. Ich habe mich dann eingewöhnt, und dann durfte ich alleine gehen. Am sechsten Dezember war das Nikolofest. Und da hat es geheißen, man kann Geschenke abgeben und wenn dann der Nikolo kommt, verteilt er die Geschenke. Ich habe mir gedacht, zwei Geschenke bekomme ich bestimmt von meinen zwei Tänzern, von jedem eines, aber gekriegt habe ich sieben. Ich habe mir den Kopf zerbrochen, von wem ich die anderen fünf bekommen habe. Nach langer Zeit hat mir einer, mit dem ich getanzt habe, gesagt, die Mami sei an ihn herangetreten und habe gefragt, ob sie ihm fünf Pakete mitgeben kann, denn wenn das Kind nichts kriegt, hat es Herzweh. Das war eine jüdische Mutter.
Wir waren bescheiden, und die Bescheidenheit ist mir geblieben. Ich schenke sehr gerne, ich gebe, was ich kann, aber für mich selber bin ich bescheiden.

Der Papa war nicht im Mittelpunkt, aber wir haben ihn respektiert. Wir haben einmal in der Woche Fleisch gehabt, sonst immer Gemüse. Der Vater hat die schönste Portion Fleisch bekommen, das war selbstverständlich bei uns. Der Vater hat ja auch das Geld verdient. Also der Vater war wer, aber dominant für uns Kinder war die Mutter.
Wir haben ihn oft im Geschäft besucht. Das Geschäft am Sparkassenplatz war ja ganz in der Nähe, wo wir gewohnt haben.
In das Geschäft sind sehr viele Christen einkaufen gegangen, obwohl sie gewusst haben, es ist ein jüdisches Geschäft. Sie sind sehr gut bedient worden!

Ich hatte eine Schulkollegin, das war eine Christin. Mit der habe ich zu Weihnachten immer den Christbaum aufputzten dürfen, da war ich immer begeistert.

In der Herklotzgasse war ein jüdisches Haus, das der Kultusgemeinde gehört hat. Im zweiten Stock war ein Waisenhaus, unten war ein Speisesaal, da haben wir von der Schule aus Essen gehen können, dann war dort ein Hort, da haben wir gespielt. Es war ein sehr schöner Turnsaal im Haus.
Ich war auch im jüdischen Turnverein. Wir haben sogar zwei Schauturner gehabt.
Schwimmen und Turnen habe ich geliebt. Und zum Sportverein Makabi bin ich gegangen.
Da war wahrscheinlich in jedem Bezirk eine Gruppe, bei mir im fünfzehnten war jedenfalls eine.
Es gab auch einen jüdischen Kindergarten in dem Haus.
Meine jüngste Schwester Ella hat dort ihren Mann Ludwig Weisz kennengelernt. Das war eine Kinderliebe. Da gab es einen Schrank mit Spielzeug, und um zwei Uhr, wenn die Schwester gesagt hat, „Holt euer Spielzeug“, ist meine Schwester sitzen geblieben und er hat es ihr gebracht. Immer! Sie hat sich um kein Spielzeug kümmern müssen. Sie haben 1932 im Turner-Tempel in der Turnergasse im damals 14. Bezirk geheiratet. Im April 1939 sind sie nach Palästina geflohen und 1947 wieder nach Wien gekommen. Sie waren fünfundfünfzig Jahre verheiratet.

Der Hausbesorger war ein Christ und die Tochter war meine Freundin. Sie ist zu mit zu mir gekommen und ich bin mit zu ihr gegangen. Wenn ich mit einem anderen Kind zusammen sein wollte, hat sie immer gesagt, “Hilda, ich bin deine Freundin, mehr brauchst Du nicht.“ Und so ist es geblieben. Das war eine Freundschaft, die viele Jahre gehalten hat.

Wenn wir Schluss gemacht haben im Turnsaal, sind wir oft, drei, vier oder fünf Mädchen, ins Raimundtheater gegangen. Das war ganz in der Nähe. Da war immer die Pause vom zweiten zum dritten Akt, und wir sind hinein gegangen. Ich glaube das „Drei Mäderl Haus“ habe ich zwanzig Mal gesehen, aber immer nur den dritten Akt. Und der Billeteur war so nett, der hat ja gewusst, wir haben keine Karten und kein Geld, aber es war der letzte Akt, und es hat ihm nichts ausgemacht.
Ich war mit meiner Freundin oft in der Oper, wir hatten nur Stehplätze, hin sind wir zu Fuß gegangen, nur zurück sind wir gefahren. Einmal, da waren wir im Burgtheater, und in der Pause sind wir so herum gegangen. Da ist so ein älterer Mann auf uns zu gegangen, und er hat gesagt, er muss jetzt leider nach Hause gehen und ob wir seinen Sitzplatz haben wollen. Da sind wir dann einmal gesessen. Das war wirklich sehr nett.
Sonst sind wir immer gestanden. Der „Faust“ zum Beispiel, der dauert ja wirklich entsetzlich lange. Wir sind zu Fuß ins Volkstheater gegangen, haben uns lange angestellt fürs Karten kriegen, und dann standen wir während der Vorstellung.
Das war keine Kleinigkeit, aber wir waren immer mehrere von der Handelsschule, die gegangen sind. Das hätte ich auch nicht missen wollen.
Der Alexander Moissi war ein phantastischer Schauspieler. Meine Freundin ist einmal mit der zweier Linie gefahren und hat nicht gewusst, wo sie aussteigen soll, und sie hat einen Herrn gefragt, ob sie jetzt schon aussteigen muss fürs Volkstheater, da hat er gesagt: „ Nein, die nächste Station, gehen Sie zum Moissi?“ „ Nein zu meiner Freundin“, hat sie geantwortet. Ich habe damals so lachen müssen, sie geht nicht zum Moissi, sie geht zu ihrer Freundin. Wir haben sehr viel in Theatern, in der Oper und im Musikverein gesehen.

Es gab viele jüdische Vereine. Ich bin zwei Jahre mit einem jüdischen Verein auf Urlaub gefahren, der Verein hat das bezahlt. Mein Bruder Hans aber war in einem christlichen Verein, wo musiziert worden ist.

Der erste Posten, den ich gehabt habe, war in einem Getränkegroßhandel. Da war ich im Büro. Die haben dann zugemacht, da bin ich in ein Bankhaus gekommen, die sind damals aus dem Boden geschossen. Da war ich zwei oder drei Jahre, da war ich sehr gerne. Dann war schon die Arbeitslosigkeit, da war man froh, wenn man irgendeine Arbeit hatte.

1926 ist meine Mutter gestorben, sie war siebenundfünfzig Jahre alt und hatte Eierstockkrebs.
Wir haben sehr geweint. Nachher, in den späteren Jahren, habe ich oft denken müssen, Gott sei Dank hat die Mutter diese Zeit nicht erleben müssen, daß ihre Kinder überall hin verstreut wurden. Es ist ihr viel erspart geblieben, sie hätte sich zu Tode gekränkt.
Der Vater hat uns dann den Haushalt geführt, er hat gekocht, sogar sehr gut gekocht.
Er war ja schon in Pension. Bis zu seinem Tod hat meine Schwester Grete, die nicht verheiratet war, mit ihm zusammen in der Wohnung gelebt.
Er ist, zum Glück, 1940 im Alter von vierundsiebzig Jahren gestorben.
Meine Eltern liegen auf dem Zentralfriedhof, da komme ich auch hin.

Ab 1935 war ich dann bei den Sängerknaben.
Durch eine Zeitungsannonce bin ich zu den Sängerknaben gekommen. Da waren viele, die auf diese Annonce hin gekommen sind. Und alle waren jünger als ich, aber ich wurde genommen. Später habe ich dann einmal die Sekretärin gefragt, warum sie damals mich genommen habe, da waren doch viele junge Mädchen, da sagt sie: “Schauen Sie, das werde ich Ihnen sagen. Ich habe zu Ihnen gesagt, daß wir ein Hotel in Hinterbichel, in Osttirol, haben und da müssen Sie dann auch dort hin, da gibt es viel Arbeit.“ Ich soll drauf gesagt haben: „Ach, das ist doch gar nichts, je mehr Arbeit, desto besser“ und das hat ihr eben so imponiert.
Ich war noch nicht verheiratet. Hinterbichel war ein wunderschöner Ort, ganz am Ende eines Tals. Da geht es schon zum Großvenediger rauf. Da haben wir ein wunderschönes Hotel gehabt, es waren auch lauter Barone dort, und die Sängerknaben haben serviert und jeden Sonntag haben sie ein Konzert gegeben.
Ich habe dort im Büro gearbeitet. Die Gäste haben sich bei mir angemeldet, und es war da ein schriftlicher Verkehr und ich habe die Rechnungen ausstellen müssen, wenn die Gäste abgefahren sind.

Damals war eine große Arbeitslosigkeit. Meine frühere Arbeitskollegin hat halt keinen Posten gekriegt, und in ihrer Wut oder Verzweiflung, hat sie bei den Sängerknaben angerufen: „Das ist doch eine Frechheit, ich als Christin bin ohne Arbeit, und die Hilda Schwarz, als Jüdin, hat bei Ihnen eine Anstellung bekommen“.
Die Sekretärinnen haben mir gesagt, daß der Rektor geschrieben hat, sie sollen mich behalten, sie sollen mich nicht weggeben, er findet, ich bin eine gute Kraft. Ich habe das dann auf meine Weise erledigt. Meinen zweiten Mann, den kannte ich damals schon, habe ich gebeten, da er auch mit meiner früheren Arbeitskollegin bekannt war, auch er war Christ, zu sagen: „Was sagst Du zu der Gemeinheit, die haben die Hilda hinausgeschmissen, weil sie eine Jüdin ist,“ und eine Ruhe war. Die hat sich nie wieder gerührt.
Als der Krieg schon aus war, habe ich sie zufällig auf der Straße gesehen. Sie ist auf mich zu gekommen und wollte grüßen, und ich habe mich umgedreht und bin gegangen, ich habe nichts gesagt. Wir hatten solange zusammen gearbeitet und waren wirklich gute Freunde.

1927 im Verein „Sozialdemokratische Gastwirte“ habe ich meinen ersten Mann, Gustav Koch, kennengelernt. Er wurde 1894 in Wien geboren. Er war auch Angestellter im Büro.
Er hat mir gleich gefallen. Seine Firma war neben meiner Firma und so sind wir bekannt geworden.
Wir haben im Turner Tempel geheiratet.
Er ist dann zu mir gezogen, in meine Familie. Mein Mann war vom ersten Weltkrieg kriegsbeschädigt. Ich hatte bei den sozialistischen Gastwirten einen ausnehmend netten Chef und der hat eine Freundin gehabt und diese Freundin hat einen guten Bekannten im Ministerium gehabt und dadurch haben wir 1935 eine Trafik gekriegt.
Weil ich bei den Sängerknaben war, haben wir uns eine Verkäuferin genommen für die Trafik und dann 1937 hat es geheißen, wenn wir die Trafik nicht selber führen, nimmt man sie uns weg, da habe ich dann bei den Sängerknaben gekündigt.
Mein Mann hat geraucht, aber ich habe nie eine Zigarette angerührt. Vielleicht hätte ich auch geraucht, aber ich habe als junges Mädchen und als junge Frau immer einen Lidränder-Katarrh gehabt, immer rot entzündete Augen, das hat gejuckt und weh getan, da war Rauch eine Katastrophe. Darum, sonst hätte ich vielleicht geraucht, aber dadurch nicht eine Zigarette.

Mein jüngerer Bruder Hans ist 1935 arbeitslos geworden. Es herrschte zu dieser Zeit große Arbeitslosigkeit und er hat sich mit ein paar Freunden auf den Weg nach Palästina gemacht. Er hatte sich von seiner christlichen Frau Grete scheiden lassen und die gemeinsame Tochter Inge blieb bei ihrer Mutter.

Während des Krieges

1938 hat eine sehr nette Frau die Trafik übernommen. Wir haben damals noch die Wohnung neben der Trafik gehabt. Die Frau hatte ein Kind, das war ein Jahr alt und ich habe dem Kind das Gehen beigebracht. Ich bin oft mit ihm spazieren gegangen. Das war eine einmalige christliche Familie, da hat die Freundschaft gehalten bis weit über den Krieg hinaus, bis sie gestorben ist.
Als wir nach Theresienstadt deportiert wurden, habe ich sie gefragt, ob ich ihr ein paar Sachen da lassen kann, Sachen, an denen ich gehangen habe. Das haben sie alles genommen und nach dem Krieg haben sie alles zurück gegeben.

Mein ältester Bruder Ernst ist 1939 nach Palästina emigriert.

1942 war ich schwanger. Da bin ich ins Rothschild- Spital gegangen und habe mich untersuchen lassen. Der Doktor hat gesagt: „Ich gebe Ihnen einen guten Rat, heute oder morgen werden Sie verschickt, bitte behalten Sie das Kind nicht.“ Ich war ihm dankbar.

Im Oktober 1942 wurden mein Mann und ich nach Theresienstadt deportiert. Theresienstadt war das „Vorzeigelager“ der Nazis. Es ist uns ja auch viel besser gegangen, als den Menschen in den anderen Lagern.
Wir wurden in Viehwaggons vom Dritten Bezirk nach Theresienstadt transportiert.
Als wir ankamen, mußten wir wochenlang am Dachboden schlafen. Die Koffer sind uns sofort weggenommen worden, gleich am Bahnhof, „Die Koffer bleiben da, die Koffer kommen nach“ hat es geheißen. Die sind natürlich nie gekommen, und wir haben da nur einen Polster gehabt und was zum Zudecken.
Ich habe zuerst in der Kindermarodenstube arbeiten müssen. Das war ein Spital. Ich mußte aufräumen, saubermachen, und die Medikamente von der Apotheke holen.
Jede Woche einmal wurden so an die zweitausend Leute zusammen gestellt und nach Auschwitz geschickt. Einmal haben sie nicht zweitausend Leute zusammen gekriegt, da haben sie die ganze Marodenstube, Ärzte, Schwestern und die Kinder nach Auschwitz geschickt. Zuerst wurden sie gepflegt, das waren ja lauter jüdische Ärzte da, und dann nach Auschwitz geschickt, damit man sie töten konnte.
Ich bin dann in die Wäscherei gekommen, die war außerhalb von Theresienstadt, da sind wir in der Früh immer aufmarschiert, sind abgezählt worden, und dann raus zum Arbeiten und am Abend wieder zurück. Da war ich bis zum Schluss, bis zur Befreiung.
Mein Mann und ich haben zusammen in einem Raum mit Wanzen und Flöhen gewohnt.
Man war in ständiger Angst, jeden Tag, man wusste ja, jede Woche müssen zweitausend nach Ausschwitz.
Zwei Mal in der Woche haben wir Brot, ein paar Deka Fett und ein paar Deka Zucker gekriegt. Das haben wir uns einteilen müssen und in der Früh gab es so einen Abwaschwasserkaffee.
Zu Mittag gab es jeden Tag achtundzwanzig Deka Kartoffelsuppe und achtundzwanzig Deka Kartoffeln. Am Anfang war das gut, aber wenn dann die Kartoffelzeit zu Ende gegangen ist, dann sind die faulen Kartoffeln abgewogen worden. auch nur achtundzwanzig Deka, und am Freitag haben wir einen ungefüllten Germknödel gekriegt, und das die ganze Zeit. Ich hab schrecklich dünn ausgeschaut.
Zum Glück, wir bekamen alle die Menstruation nicht mehr, das war wegen der Unterernährung.
Bei uns waren ja die Russen später als in Wien, in Wien waren sie ja schon im April 1945, in Theresienstadt am dritten Mai. Wir sind noch zwei Monate geblieben, bis wir nach Hause konnten.

Nach dem Krieg

Dann haben sich zwei Familien zusammen getan und haben einem Tschechen Geld und Schmuck gegeben und der hat uns nach Wien geführt. Wir hatten noch etwas Geld und Schmuck verstecken können. Der hat uns dann nach Hause gebracht, damit wir nicht mit dem Viehwaggon fahren mussten.
Die holländische Königin und der holländische König haben Flugzeuge geschickt, die Ungarn haben Autobusse geschickt, alle sind wirklich schön von ihren Ländern abgeholt worden, nur wir Österreicher nicht. Sie haben gesagt, sie wären ein armes Land, sie sind ja selber überfallen worden, aber daß sie am Heldenplatz „Heil Hitler“ geschrien haben, das haben sie vergessen.

Mein Mann und ich haben die Trafik zurück bekommen.
Als wir die Trafik vor dem Krieg gehabt haben, mein Mann war sehr gesellig und sehr gescheit, da hat es eine Menge Kunden gegeben, die sind sogar früher in die Trafik gekommen, damit sie plaudern können und sind dann zur Arbeit gegangen. Da war einer dabei, der war sehr, sehr nett und auf einmal, als der Hitler da war, ich habe meinen Augen nicht getraut, war der in der SA-Uniform. Wir waren für ihn erledigt. Er hat auf der Gasse nicht gegrüßt, kein Wort mehr geredet mit uns. Als der Krieg dann zu Ende war, habe ich ihn zufällig auf der unteren Favoritenstrasse getroffen. Er kam strahlend auf mich zu, und ich habe mich umgedreht, habe kein Wort gesagt und bin weggegangen. Der war für mich erledigt. Ich habe nicht geschimpft mit ihm, gar nichts, er war für mich erledigt. So wie wir für ihn erledigt waren, als der Hitler da war.
Ich kann mich aber auch an Kundinnen erinnern, die sehr, sehr nett waren. Das waren zwei ältere Damen. Als wir zwangsübersiedelt in die Novaragasse wurden, sind sie uns besuchen gekommen und haben Essen mitgebracht, und das waren Christinnen! Es hat auch solche gegeben.
Nach dem Krieg hatte ich eine Amtsbescheinigung, weil ich im KZ war, und da bekam ich in der Oper Stehplatzkarten, ohne mich anstellen zu müssen. Das war schon was und da bin ich viel mit meinem Mann gegangen.

1949 ist mein Mann gestorben.

Meinen zweiten Mann, Alois Sobota, habe ich eigentlich schon früher kennen gelernt, der hat nämlich als Kind schon im Haus ums Eck gewohnt. Er wurde 1907 in Wien geboren. Er hatte Schuhmacher gelernt und im Krieg mußte er einrücken.
1953 haben wir geheiratet. Er war kein Jude, er war Christ.
Er war etwas jünger als ich, und wir haben als Kinder zusammen auf der Gasse gespielt.
Damals konnte man noch auf der Gasse spielen, wir haben in der Rauchfangkehrergasse gewohnt, gleich beim Wienfluss, dort ist ja noch kein Auto gefahren, nichts, die Gasse hat uns gehört.
Ende 1953 habe ich die Trafik zurückgegeben und bin wieder in ein Büro gegangen.
Ich habe für eine Ex- und Importfirma gearbeitet, Rechnungen und Bilanzen schreiben, das war meine Arbeit.
Sehr wenige meiner jüdischen Freunde sind zurückgekommen. Zu den großen Feiertagen bin ich in die Synagoge gegangen..
Ich habe kein Schweinefleisch gegessen und ich muß, bis heute, einen besonderen Milchtopf haben.
1961 haben mein Mann und ich uns in Deutsch Wagram Grund gekauft und uns ein Haus gekauft. 1964 sind wir eingezogen. Das war ein Traum für mich. Als ich dann in Pension war, haben wir nur noch in dem Haus gewohnt, Sommer und Winter. Hinter dem Haus ist ein richtiger Garten, vorn ist ein kleiner Vorgarten.
Bis zu seinem Tod hat er im Büro der „Volksstimme“ (Tageszeitung der Kommunistischen Partei Österreichs) gearbeitet Drei Monate vor der Silbernen Hochzeit ist mein Mann 1978 gestorben, aber das waren fünfundzwanzig wirklich wunderschöne Jahre.

Nachdem mein zweiter Mann gestorben ist, bin ich das erste Mal zu meiner Familie nach Israel gefahren.
Mit Inge, der Tochter meines Bruders Hans aus erster Ehe, habe ich mich sehr gut verstanden. Sie hat zu mir gesagt: „Wenn Du willst, Tante, fahren wir nach Israel“ und wir waren vierzehn Tage in Israel. Das zweite Mal sind wir zu einer Hochzeit gefahren, und das dritte und das vierte Mal nur so auf Besuch.
Das Land hat mir gefallen, die Leute haben mir gefallen, alles hat mir gefallen. Auch mit meinem Bruder Hans habe ich mich sehr gut verstanden.
Mit Inge bin ich dann sehr viel zusammen gereist. Das war wunderschön. Leider ist sie sehr früh gestorben.

Die Deutschen kann ich heute noch nicht leiden. Mit den Deutschen verbinde ich automatisch Hitler.
Aber in Österreich habe ich mich wieder gut gefühlt. Mich hat die Politik immer interessiert.
Ich kann mich erinnern, während der Waldheim-Affäre war eine äußerst ungute, fast antisemitische Stimmung.
Das war ja eine wirklich ekelhafte Geschichte.
Jetzt der Haider, der ist ja nicht weniger ekelhaft.
Und das die FPÖ jetzt in der Regierung ist, das ist ja noch weniger angenehm. Das hat uns sehr geschadet.
Den Judenhass gibt es nicht erst seit Hitler, den Judenhass gibt es ja schon seit Jahrtausenden.
Immer, wenn in einem Land Not ist, sind die Juden schuld, da geht man auf die Juden los, um von der eigenen Schuld abzulenken, und das wird immer so bleiben.

Boris Rubinstein

И.- интервьюер
Р.- Борис Львович Рубинштейн

Борис (Борух) Рубинштейн

И. Борис Львович, расскажите пожалуйста, что-нибудь о своих предках.
Р. Родителей моего отца я никогда не видел, не застал их в живых. Родителей мамы я видел и хорошо знал в своем раннем детстве. Судя по семейной легенде, которую мы недавно узнали от родственника, а он узнал, копаясь в архивах пражского университета, родители, по, крайней мере, отец матери, по происхождению был выходцем из Испании, откуда его предки переселились в Марокко, а потом в Литву. На моей памяти, в моем детстве они жили на Украине в городе Николаеве. По фамилии дедушки, отца матери, «Басок» по озвучиванию букв «Байт совер кадош»- дом святого писателя или семья святого писателя. Таким образом, можно думать, что кто-то из предков на время или ко времени установления этой фамилии был или талмудистом, или ученым или писателем. Я хорошо помню дедушку и бабушку. Они были очень благочестивыми, очень благородными людьми, по доброму расположенными к своим знакомым и очень любящими своих детей и внуков. Бабушка была невысокого роста. Когда я знал ее, она уже была физически немощной, занималась, в основном, кухней. Умела хорошо и вкусно готовить. Дедушка был среднего роста, держался очень прямо, носил бороду. По профессии он был меламедом, т.е. готовил, занимался учебой детей младших классов в хедере. Когда-то он имел свой хедер. Когда я его застал, он ничем из общественных дел не занимался, вел, преподавал еврейский своим внукам. В частности, около года он занимался со мной и занимался с моим двоюродным братом. Он хорошо был образован и по русски, у него был очень красивый почерк. В преподавании идиш он был очень строг, получить у него «5» мне было очень трудно. Дедушка в последние годы своей жизни жил в нашей семье,так как мама была младшей в семье, любимой и родителями, т.е. дедушкой и бабушкой и членами своей семьи - братьями и сестрами. Мама старалась поддерживать его кошерный дом. Готовила ему отдельно, в отдельной посуде. Дедушка был очень набожным - справлял ритуальные молитвы и обряды не только по праздникам , но и в обычные дни. От него, я любил ранним утром забираться к нему в постель и просил его рассказать мне какую-нибудь сказку. В виде сказок он мне рассказывал отдельные эпизоды из Торы. Мне это было очень интересно и я воспринимал это как сказку. Однажды (я был мальчиком очень впечатлительным, очень общительным) и, когда я в детском саду рассказывал своим товарищам  о филистимлянах и прочие истории из еврейской истории, это стало достоянием всей нашей группы. Причем, там были не только еврейские дети, естественно, но и русские, украинцы, поляки. И через какое-то время мама была приглашена на беседу с воспитательницей. «- Вы знаете, чем занимается ваш мальчик? Вот он рассказывает вот такие-то и такие-то истории!» Дедушке было сделано определенное внушение и на этом мое образование и знание еврейской истории прекратилось.
Потому-что в те годы была борьба с сионистами и очень преследовались соблюдение всяких традиций и знание всяких еврейских историй.
И. Скажите, а Ваш дедушка соблюдал субботу?
Р. Обязательно! Он соблюдал субботу. И мне вспоминается такой эпизод, когда мы с моей маленькой подружкой не могли добраться до выключателя в кухне. Мы обратились к дедушке, который в это время был покрыт таллесом, взором обращен к востоку и, покачиваясь, молился. «Дедушка! Дедушка!»
«Gehe аveg»- сказал он.
Я понял, что он занят молитвой. Когда он кончил молитву, он спросил:
«- Что ты хочешь?»
«-Зажги, пожалуйста, свет в кухне.»
«Gehe awek, haint is schabes.»
В шаббат он не мог даже зажечь свет. Вот такое. Интересно.
И. Скажите, пожалуйста, приходили ли к дедушке какие-нибудь знакомые, были ли они евреями или он  мог встречаться и с другими?
Р. В дом, где он жил, в доме своего сына, из приходящих к нему людей его возраста, это были , в основном, евреи - набожные люди, физически более активные, моложе его, и, они делились своими впечатлениями.
И. Скажите, а вот материально семья дедушки, может быть, прадедушки, как они жили? На каком уровне?
Р. Материально, вероятно, семья дедушки, вот которого я знаю, это маминого отца, жили очень скромно. Была большая семья - 11 детей, так, в живых осталось 9 детей. Да. Бабушка рожала, по сути дела, друг за другом этих детей. Так. Вероятно, была какая-то коммерция, типа лавки. Но дедушка занимался, в основном, этим хедером. Вряд ли они могли жить очень прилично материально.
И. Вы сказали, что у него был свой хедер. Что вы имели в виду?
Р. Т.е. была какая-то комната, куда приходили дети и у него занимались.
И. Но, хедер, вообще-то, был общинным? Наверное, да?
Р. Этого я не знаю, не знаю. Наверное. В те времена, конечно. Это же до 20-х лет.
И. До революции?
Р. До революции.
И. Значит, ваши дедушка с бабушкой, оба дедушки и бабушки жили в Николаеве до революции, так Вам кажется?
Р. Не оба  дедушки, нет. Это мне не кажется, неправда. Дедушка и бабушка по линии мамы, они вероятно, приехали на Украину уже после революции. Жили ли они в Литве или в Белоруссии, вероятнее, в Белоруссии. А на Украину они приехали уже после революции.
И. А папины?
Р. А папины родители жили в Белоруссии, а выходцами были из Литвы.
И. Понятно. А в Николаев они приехали уже позднее?
Р. Они, вообще, не приехали. Они в Николаеве не были.
И. Они так в Белорусии и жили?
Р. Жили и умерли там до войны.
И. А где они там жили?
Р. Где они там жили не могу сказать. Жили в Могилевской губернии, а точнее не могу сказать,  и умерли там до войны.
И. А бабушку Вы хорошо помните? Вот как она выглядела?
Р. Это мамину маму. Да, хорошо помню.
И. Парик она носила?
Р. Нет, парик она не носила.
И. Но голова была покрыта?
Р. Да, голова всегда была покрыта платком. Я Вам сейчас скажу. Она, бабушка, умерла, мне было года 3, значит, где-то в 32 году.
И. А были ли у них братья, сестры?
Р. Вероятно, были, потому что, в свое время, ведь еврейские семьи были очень большие.
У дедушки был брат, у маминого папы был брат в Ленинграде - Файва Басок. Он был на пару лет моложе дедушки. При мне в наш дом он приезжал погостить, повстречаться со своим старшим братом, с моим дедушкой. Умер он в блокаду, в блокадном Ленинграде.
И. И больше Вы не помните?
Р. Я его один раз в жизни видел, когда он приезжал.
И. А о других что-то знаете?
Р. А о других я не знаю, не знал и по разговорам не знал.
И. А дедушка ваш не служил в армии?
Р. Нет, в армии не служил.
И. Скажите, а о родителях отца Вы что-нибудь помните?
Р. О родителях отца я знаю только по преданиям, сохранившимся в семье.
Дед мой, отец моего отца, звали его Борух, был очень энергичным, жестким по характеру человеком. Занимался он торговлей, детей держал в строгости. Вероятно, тоже был набожным. В тоже время он был очень уважаемым в округе человеком. В частности, я знаю по рассказам, что бедным людям он мог отпускать товары в кредит, не беспокоя  их сроком возврата денег.
То, что он занимался торговлей, в последующем сыграло такую отрицательную роль - когда мой отец хотел поступать в институт, он, по тогдашним понятиям приравнивался к так называемым лишенцам, т.е. лишенным прав (уже в советское время). И он не мог поступить в институт, в который он бы хотел. По характеру своему он был гуманитарием, мой отец. Я хочу сказать, насколько повлияло то, что он был из торговцев. Он мог поступить только в Киевский сельскохозяйственный институт. Из эпизодов, которые вспоминаются мне в связи с моим дедушкой по матери, дедушкой Янкелем, вспоминается такой эпизод. Он был человеком очень добрым. По окончании молитвы он снимал тфилин, снимал таллес и целовал цицес. Мне это показалось  очень забавным и интересным. Какой-то раз я попросил его дать мне поцеловать цицес, дедушка согласился и так я причастился к этому обряду.
Мой отец родился в местечке Головчин в Белоруссии. Тринадцатилетним мальчиком вместе со своим двоюродным братом, с Мишей Басок, они отправились в г.Вильно в иешиву.
Занимался он очень успешно и закончил это учебное заведение. Он был маленького роста, человеком очень скромным, очень нежным, высоко образованным. Хорошо знал историю и литературу, был хорошо образован на идиш, на иврите, хорошо знал русский язык и владел еще немецким языком. Окончил примерно в 24-м 25-м году Киевский сельскохозяйственный институт. Тогда он жил у своей старшей сестры. По окончании института он поехал в Крым, где работал агрономом и зоотехником в еврейских поселениях. Тогда сионисты, готовясь к тому, чтобы переезжать в Израиль, или, были тогда мнения, что ,может быть ,и в Крыму будут еврейские поселения, старательно приобщались к сельскому хозяйству.
Жил он там, тогда жизнь была организованна по типу коммуны. Я знаю, что когда он вернулся из коммуны, буквально, имел на себе только носильные вещи и помню еще кожаную куртку. Все вещи его остались в коммуне. Затем он работал в Купинске. И, примерно, в 33 или 32 году он переехал в г. Николаев работать. С мамой они познакомились, вероятно, при семейных встречах и поженились в 27 году. В 29 году родился я. Мы заимели в Николаеве 2-х комнатную квартиру, где жили постоянно до начала войны.
И. Борис Львович, Вы что-то о дедушке хотели добавить.
Р. Дедушка Янкель был очень нежен к своим детям, к своим внукам. Праздники, религиозные отмечались, обычно, в семье. Он готовился к ним и приходили, т.к. семья была большая, детей много, их жены, внуки приходили. Мне помнится, как он справлял такой праздник, как Ханука. Он готовил свечи из картофелин. В картофеле делалась выемка, заполнялась эта выемка растительным маслом, туда ставился фитилек и, таким образом ,он готовил эти свечи и в Хануку они зажигались. Свечи ставились на окне, которое выходило к улице, потому что в те времена вот такие религиозные обряды , они порицались и преследовались.
И. Дедушка учил Вас идишу - это желание родителей было или ваше личное?
Р. Особенно горячего желания у родителей не было, но они это не порицали, а инициатива была дедушкина. Я относился к этому с увлечением, мне это было интересно, а папе, было приятно, что я тоже вот подвизаюсь в изучении идиш. Но это было не долго, где-то около года, т.к. вскоре дедушка умер.
И. А он учил только язык  с Вами, или какие-то традиции рассказывал, религиозные истории.
Р. Нет, учил только языку. О традициях я Вам рассказывал, как я попал в детском саду. Это немного было.
И. Расскажите о своем раннем детстве.
Р. В Николаеве мы жили в центре города, в хорошей 2-х комнатной, очень солнечной квартире. У нас был большой двор, около 35-40 квартиросъемщиков. Во дворе было много детей, к несчастью моему, в основном девочки. Но мы с ними очень дружили. Я помню, как начинался мой день. Вставал я ранним утром, выходил на улицу, садился на гранитный поребрик или парапет, который был уже нагрет солнцем, и ждал, когда выйдут мои подружки. У нас было много подвижных игр, которым мы отдавались с большим увлечением. В 37-ом году я поступил в школу. В те времена еще в школе выступали ученики с чтением стихов, пением песен на своем родном языке. Я помню, что приготовил к одному из праздничных дней стихотворение на идиш (по моему, это Квитко), которое называлось: «A brif dem Hawer Voroschilov» - Это письмо Ворошилову.
(читает стихотворение на идиш)
По русски это звучало так:
«Климу Ворошилову письмо я написал
Товарищ Ворошилов - народный коммисар и т.д.»
Тогда еще существовали еврейские школы, немецкие школы, польские школы, но в последующие годы очень быстро все это было ликвидированно, все это было прикрыто.
И. А имело успех Ваше выступление?
Р. Я сорвал большие аплодисменты. Был маленьким, читал очень выразительно, и, это людям понравилось.
И. Скажите, а были среди Ваших одноклассников дети - тоже евреи?
Р. Да. Николаев вообще многонациональный город был и большую часть населения представляли евреи. Но в семьях возрастного уровня моих родителей религиозное, ну что-ли, образование уже не было принято. И, как правило, дети об истории еврейской, о традициях знали очень немного.
И. Скажите, была в Николаеве синагога? Посещал кто-нибудь из Ваших родных ее, если была?
Р. Синагога было в Николаеве.
И. Вы помните даже, где она была?
Р. Я примерно помню, где она находилась. Я был в ней какой-то единственный раз. На меня она произвела впечатление не очень благоприятное, потому что она мрачно выглядела  по сравнению с православными церквями, польскими костелами, где все было в блеске, в яркости. Вот синагога на меня произвела впечатление такое серое. Из родных, ну, единицы посещали синагогу. Дедушка был достаточно слаб уже, чтобы ходить туда. А вот дядя Омер такой был, он ходил в синагогу, дядя Израиль ходил в синагогу, но наверное, не регулярно.
И. А их сыновья, внуки не посещали ее?
Р. Нет.
И. Борис Львович, расскажите что-нибудь о братьях или сестрах ваших родителей.
Р. Расскажу немного о братьях мамы. Один из них Павел ( или Файва). Он был врачом, акушером-гинекологом. Жена его была учительницей. Жили они в Харькове. К сожалению, детей, которых они любили оба, у них никогда не было. Дядя Павел защитил кандидатскую диссертацию и работал ассистентом в клинике Харьковского института. В годы войны он был военным врачом, начальником госпиталя с тяжелыми ранениями, полостными ранениями живота в г. Ижевске.
Это был человек обаятельный, очень нежный и тихий, очень доброжелательный к людям, пациентки его беспредельно любили. После войны он возвратился в Харьков, где и умер.
Второй его брат и брат мамы, дядя Шабсай (дядя Шепа, как мы его звали) был очень одаренным, энергичным, очень способным человеком. Он окончил  2  факультета Николаевского кораблестроительного института, был одним из ведущих инженеров на большом кораблестроительном заводе, был очень уважаем на работе и в семье. Ко мне он благоволил. Всегда интересовался тем, что я читаю, любил проверять мои контрольные работы и сочинения. Уже и в те годы, когда я занимался в старших классах, а он не жил в Николаеве, а жил в Москве.
Он был интересен тем, что он самостоятельно занимался музыкой, мог играть, или, по крайней мере, аккомпанировать себе на фортепиано или  на скрипке. У него была большая, благоустроенная квартира, хорошо обставленная мебелью. Один из первых он заимел, по моему, американский большой радиоприемник. Это был приемник, который я впервые в своей жизни увидел.
Вот родители мамы и его родители, бабушка и дедушка жили у них в доме до смерти бабушки. Я помню, как он организовывал красиво детские праздники. Ставилась громадная елка. Много игрушек он мастерил сам. Всегда было весело и очень интересно. Он, вероятно, писал стихи, потому что на семейных сборищах в честь, ну, каких-либо семейных праздников, обязательно звучали посвящения в его исполнении. Помню строчки, к сожалению только эти, которые он посвятил своему отцу, моему дедушке.
Тате Лейб, бис татал мит хохен...
Их вил...
Маленькие четверостишия в своем исполнении он посвящал буквально каждому из членов семьи. К сожалению, прошло уже много лет и я их припомнить не могу. В годы войны он был переведен (после эвакуации в Астрахань) на работу в Москву, где работал тоже крупным инженером. К сожалению, примерно в 1953 году, когда была государственная антисемитская кампания в яром соку, он был с работы уволен. Умер в Москве.
И. Т.е., он после этого не работал, да?
Р. Как уволен был, так не работал. Уже в годах был немножко, но еще трудоспособным. В 30-е годы он работал в Одесской школе рабочей еврейской молодежи, преподавал там в «Еврамоле» какую-то из технических дисциплин, он инженером был.
И. Еще вы хотели рассказать о 3-ем брате, тоже.
Р. Младший мамин брат, дядя Миша, был одним из ведущих врачей. Окончив медицинский институт в Одессе, он там же работал ассистентом у профессора Бухштаба, который его очень любил и всегда считался с его профессиональным мнением. После того, как папанинцы побывали на льдине, Папанин был препровожден в Одессу для поправки своего здоровья. В качестве врача за ним закрепили дядю Мишу, который его наблюдал. Между ними завязалась большая дружба и, впоследствии, Папанин пригласил его в Москву, обеспечив жильем, и там дядя Миша работал тоже ассистентом в клинике. В связи с антисемитской кампанией он был снят с работы.
И. Это когда, в каком году это было?
Р. Это тоже в начале 50-х годов или в конце 40-х.
И потом работал заведующим кардиологическим отделением в одной из крупных московских больниц. Миша был очень широко образован в литературном плане, он хорошо знал еврейскую литературу. Был одним из близких друзей еврейского театра. С его мнением о просмотренных спектаклях вот артисты Госет всегда очень считались. Он умер в Москве.
И. Скажите, они все говорили на идиш?
Р. Они все владели идиш, но говорить у них не было аудитории для такого частого и полного общения. А между собой они часто говорили на идиш.
И.  А литературу на идиш они знали?
Р. Очень хорошо знали и Шепа и Миша. И хорошо знали и были близко знакомы даже с некоторыми еврейскими писателями.
И. А конкретно не помните?
Р. Конкретно не помню.
И. А со стороны мамы тоже были интересные люди?
Р. Папы. Со стороны папы.
И. Да. Те были со стороны мамы, теперь со стороны папы.
Р. Со стороны папы интересно рассказать о старшем брате. Это Израиль.Он интересен тем, что имел серьезный физический недостаток - болезнь суставов, который не позволял ему хорошо владеть пером, легко передвигаться. Он был интересен тем, что самостоятельно изучал математику и физику. Он мне, мальчику, присылал свои оригинальные способы быстрого решения примеров и задач. Он был славен тем, что он имел несколько рационализаторских предложений по техническому совершенствованию каких-то процессов. Нашими родственниками он был представлен для знакомства такому известному академику Кикоину. Кикоин, ознакомившись с его работами, конечно, не сверх какими совершенными по форме, то по сути очень значительными, сказал такую фразу: «Очень жалко, что пропал такой яркий, такой значительный талант».
Он был человеком очень добрым. Я вспоминаю, как при моем посещении вместе с папой и мамой их дома в местечке Белыничи, его окружающие всегда приветствовали очень тепло, белорусы, евреи: «Здравствуй, Борухович. Здравствуй, Борухович.»
Всегда относились все к нему с большим уважением. Мне он запомнился ещё тем, что он, как это называется, коллекционировал весы. У него были самые разные по характеру  и по времени весы. Маленькие почтовые весы, весы – безмены всякие. Им мне  он подарил  тоже весы, представлявшие собой  два цилиндра на рычаге. Сделаны они были из какого-то дорогого металла (медь или латунь) с маленькими разновесами еще тогда в  фунтах или в долях фунтов. И , когда я приехал домой, мы с детьми играли, используя эти весы. Человеком он был очень набожным. В последние свои годы он оказался на попнчении своих племяницы и прёмного сына на Урале. Они всё делали для того, чтобы он имел возможность принимать только кошерную пищу, соблюдать все релгиозные праздники и свои религиозные отправления.
И. Спасибо. А еще там были интересныые люди?
Р. Младший брат папы- дядя Борис. Он был интересен тем, что рано начал свою трудовую деятельность, был комсомольцем. Закончил Минский медицинский институт и занимал руководящие посты в органах здравоохранения Белоруссии. Он прошёл польскую компанию в качестве военного врача, войну с белофиннами, Великую Отечественную войну. Он был в армии начальником санэпидотдела или армии ли фронта ( не могу точно сказать). А по завершению войны работал главным эпидемиологом в министерстве здравоохранения Белоруссии.
Умер он сравнительно молодым тоже находясь на боевом посту в машине, когда он ехал в какой-то городок Белоруссии расследовать эпидемиологическую вспышку какого-то инфекционного заболевания.
И. Что Вы еще можете сказать о семьях ваших родителей?
Р. Семьи моих мамы и папы были очень дружными, любящими друг друга, всегда готовыми придти на помощь друг другу, всегда жившие интересами друг друга, знавшие хорошо нужды своих братьев, сестер и их детей.
И. Скажите, а вот 37-ой год и все, что связано с ним, не затронуло Вашу семью?
Р. Нет.
И. В 37-ом году никто не попал под репрессии?
Р. Нет. Начало войны застало меня 12-летним мальчиком. Поначалу мне было даже интересно, как взрываются снаряды. Мы, дети, бегали собирали осколки от зенитных снарядов. Но, конечно, вскоре и дети ощутили всю тяжесть, всю жестокость начала войны. Во-первых, много взрослых тут же были сразу мобилизованны. К нам стали прибывать много эвакуированных из западных областей. В основном, это были евреи из Западной Украины, Западной Белоруссии, которых война настигла в первые же минуты. Это были усталые, озабоченные люди, очень потрепанные дальними переходами. Они располагались на какой-то кратковременный отдых по дворам. Иногда, даже часто , им помогали жильцы, вынося что-нибудь из продуктов питания, из пищи, и вскоре они куда-то исчезали.
Помню первые машины, которые прибывали уже с ранеными бойцами с фронта. Было развернуто в городе очень много госпиталей. Помимо больничных учреждений использовались школы, различные другие помещения. И как-то мальчиком я видел, как прибывали друг за другом машины с вокзала и выносили тяжело раненых бойцов.
Немцы приближались к нашему родному городу, и, 11 сентября 41 года  с помощью дяди Шепы мы попали в эшелон, который увозил работающих на Николаевском кораблестроительном заводе в тыл, и вместе с тетей и ее семьей были эвакуированны в г.Астрахань. Поездка эта была очень длительной. Эшелон шел 5 недель. Чаще он останавливался и стоял, пропуская составы на фронт с людьми и с техникой. И в обратную сторону эшелоны, скажем, более важные, чем наш. Какое-то время нас сопровождал самолет, а потом мы ехали уже по территории мирного Советского Союза. Эшелон представлял собой товарные вагоны, оборудованные (как это называется - лежаками?) нарами в 2 или в 3 этажа. Важно сказать, что уже в те горячие дни было достаточно организованно горячее питание. На крупных станциях мы получали бесплатно горячие обеды. Это, конечно, было очень существенно.
По прибытии, недалеко от города Астрахань , мы встретили, вернее, нас настиг эшелон, в котором ехали мой папа с дядей Шепой и уже дальше (это было за 2 дня до подъезда к Астрахани) мы ехали вместе.
И. А до этого...где был папа?
Р. А до этого... Папа был по здоровью не годным к военной службе. Но тогда было, так называемое , народное ополчение, куда мобилизовывали многих мужчин, не годных к военной строевой службе. И вот папа попал в такое подразделение, которое называлось фортификационным батольоном. Т.е. батальон, который рыл оборонительные сооружения, которые должны были препятствовать продвижению немцев.
И. Т.е. окопы рыли?
Р. Это были большие рвы такие, противотанковые рвы с надолбами и т.д.. Но оказалось, что немцы наступали совсем с другой стороны. В Астрахани мы вскоре переехали вместе с отцом в  Наримановский район, в с. Нариманово, где он работал зоотехником  в райземотделе.
Зима с 41-го на 42-ой выдалась очень суровой. Но вскоре по прибытию в эвакуацию была введена карточная система с нормированным пайком, который был тогда все-таки приличным. Но зима выдалась очень холодной. Мы долго не имели топлива (дров или угля), с углем там вообще было очень трудно. И только помню, как-то выменяли табак (папа не курил, а по карточкам мы получали табак) на дрова и остаток зимы провели уже более менее в тепле. 5 июня папа был призван в армию. Горю моему не было предела.
И. Это какой был год?
Р. Это был 42-ой год. 2 дня, которые оставались ему до явки в военкомат , я буквально не отходил от него ни на шаг. Мы были у него на работе, где он получил расчет, мы были у наших родственников (у дяди Шепы), попрощались с ними и 7-го июня 42 года мы проводили его на большой пароход, на котором их отправляли вверх по Волге.
В это время уже начиналась серьезная заваруха - Сталинградское сражение. Папе я писал письма каждый день на полевую почту, каждый день. Ни одного письма моего или маминого, к сожалению, он не получил. Вскоре мы были с мамой вместе с эшелоном кораблестроительного завода эвакуированны из Астрахани уже повторно. Так как ее сестра жила на  Урале в Пермской области.
И. Это какая сестра?
Р. Ее сестра старша Хай-Сора. А эшелон шел в Пермь, мы решили ехать этим эшелоном. До погрузки на железнодорожный транспорт в течении недели Каспийским морем мы плыли на дебаркадере, который вез буксир в г. Гурьев. Сравнительно небольшое расстояние мы покрыли за 7 дней. Ехать там было по-своему для меня интересно, но было и очень грустно. Я помню, что там произошла смерть какой-то престарелой женщины, и ее погрузили в саван и опустили для захоронения в Каспийской море. По приезде в Гурьев, мы погрузились в железнодорожный состав и еще 3 недели шли до места назначения в Пермь. Из Перми параходикои по Каме мы прибыли в село Частые тогда Молотовской (Пермской) области. Там мы пробыли до 44 года, до осени 44 года, значит 2 года. Жили мы трудно, материально очень скромно. Нам помогал дядя Миша, периодически присылая деньги, ну и родственники, которые жили там. Мама выменивала оставшиеся вещи на какие-то продукты питания. Очень трудной, мне помнится, была весна 44 года. Я очень недоедал. Мы с мамой могли сварить 3-х литровый котелок картошки, который уничтожался в один присест. Так как у меня была карточка иждивенческая, хлеба полагалось 200 г, а маме - 400 г. Этот дневной паек я делил обычно на половину, съедал свою порцию сразу хлеба, а к маминой никогда не прикасался. Мама работала техническим секретарем в сельсовете. Осенью 44 года Николаев был уже освобожден, мамина племянница прислала нам вызов на реэвакуацию и мы с мамой вернулись в город Николаев. Точно помню, что это было в ночь на 7-ое ноября. Мы ночевали в каком-то амбаре, вокзала конечно , тогда никакого не было, а поезд прибыл ночью. Ранним утром (мама оставалась с вещами) я отправился к своей двоюродной сестре, которая нас и вызвала в Николаев. Помню, какое уныние произвел на меня разрушенный город. На одной из недавно перед войной открывшейся школ висела еще вывеска:
«Übernachtungheim»
Это был ночлежный дом для офицеров немецкой армии. Было много разрушений. Мы переехали и жили в семье маминой старшей сетры, пока не получили с большим трудом ранее принадлежавшую нам квартиру. Я определился в 8 класс тогда мужской школы. Помню, что никакой мебели в школе не было и при зачислении в школу нас обязывали принести с собой обязательно стул. Мебели у нас никакой не было. Мы сходили на барахолку, купили стул и я приступил к занятиям. В большом некогда городе средних школ было в этот год всего 2 или 3. По окончании школы я решил поступать в Военно-медицинскую Академию в Ленинграде. Мне был оформлен литерный проезд, даны командировочные.
И. Это в каком году было?
Р. Это было в 47 году. И я благополучно прибыл в Ленинград. Вот здесь я впервые почувствовал проявления антисемитизма. Когда на медицинской комиссии меня забраковали, найдя у меня, якобы, грыжу. В последующие 50 с лишним лет у меня этой грыжи так и не оказалось. Вероятно, это было только из этих соображений. Так как до дому добираться мне было не на что, я решил оставаться в Ленинграде, успешно сдал экзамены в 1-ый медицинский институт, и начал учиться и жить в Ленинграде.
И. Скажите, вот мы говорили о вашем отце, что он ушел на фронт, а дальнейшая судьба, что Вы узнали об отце и когда?
Р. Об отце мы узнали из письма его младшего брата, который был военным врачем. Знаем, что он обучался недалеко от Сталинграда в городе Камышине, проходил короткий курс обучения для работников метеослужбы в армии. Последнее его письмо брат получил 1-го сентября. Оно было такого содержания :
«Нас грузят на машины для отправки на фронт.»
Больше никаких известий брат от него не получал. Судьба его гибели неизвестна, но, конечно, он погиб, потому что его брат наводил о нем подробные повторные справки. В последующем и мы с мамой писали в государственный архив, но никаких указаний о его судьбе не получили.
И. То есть, Вы не получили даже похоронки?
Р. Ничего не получили.
И. А Вы помните немножко свои школьные годы в эвакуации, когда Вы жили в Астрахани и в Пермской области. Как Вы учились, какие у Вас были друзья. Были ли там тоже еврейкие семьи в эвакуации. Чувствовали ли Вы на себе какое-то отношение особое, как еврей?
Р. В школах и в Нариманове и на Урале было много из числа эвакуированных, в том числе и еврейских детей. На Урале меньше их было. Отношение ребят было очень доброжелательным, никаких проявлений антисемитизма на бытовом уровне никогда не ощущал. Жили все трудно, жили дружно, старались друг другу помогать в учебе.
Хочу немного дополнить о дяде Павле, мамином брате. В 1-ю мировую войну он принимал участие в боях в составе царской армии и попал в австрийский плен. Возможно, это спасло ему жизнь.
И. Он тогда не был еще врачем?
Р. Нет, конечно, еще не был.
И. Ваши родные принимали участие в боях во время Отечественной войны, кто служил в армии?
Р. Из нашей большой семьи 3 моих дяди и папа, а также 12 моих двоюродных братьев, сестер и их мужей были в Красной Армии в эти годы. Из них 3 девушки. 13 человек принимали непосредственное участие во фронтовых действиях, из них 2 девушки, которые были врачами. Из этих людей 3 погибли. Это мой отец. Ой, извините, давайте вернемся. Я тут не исправил. Погибли еще муж Ани и муж Раи. Значит, 5 человек погибли непосредственно на фронте.
Хочу коснуться несколькими словами погибших в Холокосте. Это моя двоюродная сестра Бэллочка. Чудесная, милая, нежная, очень скромная девушка. Она была самой любимой племянницей моего отца. Учась на последних курсах института медицинского в Харькове, она вышла замуж за своего однокурсника, русского парня Николая. Они друг друга очень любили. Тетя моя, мать Бэллочки и ее отец вначале очень противились браку с неевреем. Но потом смирились с этим. Коля был чудесным парнем, очень красивым, они были молоды и счастливы. С началом польской кампании он был направлен в освобожденные, присоединенные к Советскому Союзу части Польши. Они были счастливы, но это длилось очень короткое время. Бэллочка в начале войны оказалась в гостях у своих родителей в Николаеве. 17 сентября Николаев был сдан. А буквально за месяц с небольшим до этого, она, по своему настоянию, была призвана в армию и направлена вместе с эшелоном на фронт. Тогда она уже была врачом. По приезде на станцию назначения, оказалось, что станция уже занята немцами. Она вместе со своей подружкой, тоже врачом, пустились пешими в сторону Николаева, надеясь прорваться через фронт и попасть к своим родным. Когда они пришли в Николаев, в городе тоже хозяйничали немцы.
Бэллочка была белокурой, не похожей на еврейку девушкой, и соседи ее родителей, оставшиеся в оккупации, не евреи, предлагали ее приютить, не боясь, что это вызовет каких-то подозрений, но только ее одну. Остаться одной, бросив в такую тяжелую годину свою подружку еврейку она отказалась. И они, как положено должны были зарегистрироваться как евреи. Одно время они выполняли очень тяжелые и унизительные работы. А потом вместе с другими евреями были расстреляны. Когда это точно произошло, мы не знаем. Папина сестра младшая, тетя Лифша, благополучно жила с мужем и двумя замечательными девочками - Голдой и Броней в Польше. Переписываться тогда не разрешали. Мы знали о том, что есть такая родня, и я знал, но никогда их не видел. Жили они в городе Воложин. Мое знакомство с ними состояло из одного письма и маленькой посылочки, которую они прислали, когда часть Польши присоединилась к Белоруссии. Девочки, сама тетя Лифша и ее муж погибли во время немецкой оккупации. Как это произошло, расстреляли ли их просто в их городке или они погибли в концлагере, узнать не удалось.
И.Давайте немного вернемся в детство, что еще есть у Вас, ваши воспоминания?
Р. Как я Вам уже рассказывал, когда мне было 3 года, мы с родителями возвратились уже на постоянное место жительства в г. Николаев. Мы поселились в хорошей по тем временам 2-х комнатной квартире на полуторном этаже. В какой-то части старинного особняка в центре города. У нас было по современному электрическое освещение, отопление было печное, была общая с другими несколькими соседями кухня, довольно большая веранда, зимняя кухня с выходом во двор. Папа в эти годы работал км  в 14 от города зоотехником в большом пригородном совхозе . Это был базовый совхоз большого кораблестроительного николаевского завода. В летнее время мы с мамой выезжали в этот совхоз. Там была маленькая часть интеллигенции в этом поселке, а, в основном, это были рабочие совхоза. В те годы я был очень любознательным мальчиком, очень любил движение в любом его виде. С раннего утра я появлялся вместе с рабочими в полевых и животноводческих бригадах. И мне было все равно на чем ехать: на лошади в упряжке, на волах, на тракторе, на машине, которые в то время были большой редкостью. И целыми днями я мог пропадать вне дома. Там было еще несколько детей рабочих и служащих этого совхоза. Вместе с ними я проводил свое свободное время очень долгие дни.
Был там и маленький клуб, куда в определенные дни приезжало передвижное, немое, конечно тогда, кино. Обычно в этом клубе собирались все работники этого совхоза вместе с семьями и, так как кино было немым, то действие фильма или показ фильма сопровождался игрой струнного ансамбля. Это было очень интересно. Иногда лента обрывалась, тогда все вопили: «Сапожники! Халтурщики!» Чинили пленку и вновь продолжалось кино. Там же я, как и другие дети, учавствовал в самодеятельности. Я помню, как на партийном открытом собрании ( папа был беспартийным), вот на открытом партийном собрании, где присутствовали администрация, технические работники, я пел для всех «Мурку». И все с удовольствием воспринимали это выступление. В те годы (36 г), когда была война гражданская в Испании, я помню, я участвовал тогда в самодеятельности. Мы ставили с детьми и подростками такой большой спектакль на украинском языке. Он назывался: «Мовчи, Тереза!» Речь шла о девочке Терезе, которая была связной между партизанами-испанцами, причем я играл роль вот этой Терезы, девочки. А все мужские роли, их было еще 6 или 7, исполняли девочки. Вот это был такой момент, когда проявились мои творческие способности на эстраде. Когда мне было лет 7, это наверное, 36 год, Николаев стал областным городом, и база вот этого совхоза, работники этого совхоза, они стали работниками вновь созданного областного треста пригородных совхозов. И тогда отец стал уже работать в Николаеве, и смог больше внимания уделять мне. Папа любил читать. В доме были книги на еврейском языке, религиозные книги и художественная литература. В основном, этим занимался папа, а религиозными книгами, конечно, и дедушка. Мама читала мало и по русски, и, тем более, по еврейски. Я, к сожалению, тоже в детстве раннем читал мало. Моими основными занятиями до школы был детский сад, беготня по улицам и во дворе. А когда я стал постарше (у меня был очень хороший слух и очень хорошая память)меня определили заниматься скрипкой у частного преподавателя. Но я был очень неусидчив, нетерпелив, и моих усилий заниматься хватило очень ненадолго. Через несколько месяцев, по моему настоянию, эти занятия были прекращены. Позднее, в младших классах школы я занимался в музыкальных кружках, в частности, в так называемом музыкально-ритмическом оркестре. Я играл на ударных инструментах, пел. У меня был приличный голос.Руководил этим кружком во Дворце пионеров такой опытный преподаватель, педагог, хороший музыкант Владимир Георгиевич Кредин. Я совращал много мальчиков и девочек в этот кружок. И так как нас набралось очень много, то такой же музыкальный кружок организовали в нашей школе. Праздники, семейные и официальные, государственные праздники часто встречали, отмечали большими составами, собираясь частью нашей большой семьи. Помню, что обычно был хороший стол, у всех веселое настроение, все были дружески, по родственному, очень тепло друг к другу расположены. Вина потребляли, как правило, минимальное количество. Никогда не помню кого-нибудь из своих близких в состоянии опъянения. В каждом застолье обязательно исполнялись еврейские песни. У папы был очень плохой слух и слабый голос, но, тем не менее, он включался в общий хор и тоже пел. В моей жизни еврейская песня сыграла большую роль и имела большую любовь. Что называется, я впитал ее с молоком матери. Я помню, как, мама пела мне колыбельные песни. Я не помню сейчас всех слов. Одну она пела ее на еврейском языке.
(поет колыбельную песню на идиш)
Пела она и по русски:
«Баю, баю, ба й.
Спи, мой светлый май!
А-я-я-я-яй, а-я-я-я-яй!»
Я часто подолгу не мог заснуть под ее колыбельные мелодичные песни. Это вызывало ее утомление и раздражение. И, когда я засыпал (я, конечно, этого не помню, но, по ее рассказам, она пела марш такой мелодии. Это было победа ее над моим долгим незасыпанием)
(напевает мелодию марша)
Только пару лет назад, я, услышав по радио или телевидению вот этот марш, узнал, что это был марш (еще до 20-х годов), то ли белой армии, то ли царской армии.
Я знал очень много еврейских песен. Мои родные любили, когда я исполнял их, я ходил на концерты еврейских певцов и вместе с родителями, и, после войны, один. И помню прекрасные еврейские песни Эппельбаума, Александровича, Нехамы Лифшицайте.
Много песен, конечно, еврейских было веселых. Но были и грустные песни. Спеть Вам что-ли?
И. Спойте, пожалуйста.
Р.(...напевает еврейскую песню на идиш)
И. О чем эта песня?
Р. Это песня о еврее-портняжке, как он, не умея хорошо жить, занимался своим портняжным делом. Были песни на еврейском языке, восхвалявшие новую жизнь, становление колхозов. Одна из них начиналась так
(напевает песню на идиш)
Дальше не помню. А заканчивалась она здравицей.
(поет песню на идиш, где восхваляют революцию, Ленина, Сталина, советскую конституцию и т.д.)
Это был примерно 36-ой - 37-ой год. Одна песня, очень душевная, которую папа напевал маме. К сожалению, я помню только мелодию и один куплет.
(поет песню на идиш)
Часто песня заканчивалась здравицей в честь каждого. Это всем известная песенка. Приведу только один куплет
(поет песню на идиш)
В 39-ом году вместе с папой и с мамой (мне тогда было 10 лет) мы поехали на родину отца в Белоруссию в местечко Белыничи, где жили его старший брат и сестра с семьями. Для меня это была очень интересная поездка.
Мы приехали в г. Могилев,где жило много родственников, двоюродные братья и сестры папы. Нас очень тепло встретили, мы провели там пару дней и потом поехали в маленькое местечко Белыничи. Это было довольно большое село в Могилевской области, где в те времена жило много евреев. Мне там было очень интересно. С некоторыми из своих родственников, своей двоюродной сестрой, братом, тетей я познакомился впервые в жизни. Со многими из них это была единственная встреча. Вот там я узнал новые для себя еврейские песни.
(поет песню на идиш)
Такая грустная песенка. Еще одна.
(поет песню на идиш)
Там же я узнал чуть хулиганскую шуточную песенку
(поет песню на идиш)
Там же папа написал и исполнил песню на идиш, посвященную радости встречи со своей родней, радости жизни, дружбе. Я помню, к сожалению, только последний куплет, который звучал так:
(поет песню на идиш)
Папа, вероятно, писал стихи, но я об этом особенно не знал. Когда мне было 10 лет, на мой юбилей он написал такие стихи:
Я мальчик очень тихий-
Это знает весь наш класс!
Не люблю я драк и шуток,
Не делаю ужимок,
А с гудком завода
Зазвучит мой голос звучный!
Песни вспоминаю,
Танцы повторяю,
Мама меня просит,
Мама умоляет:
Спят еще соседи,
Твой шум их утомляет
Люблю я свою маму,
И слушать ее рад!
Но что-то мне мешает
И тянет меня назад!
Буду я как ленинец-
-Честен, справедлив!
Учиться на отлично,
Всегда трудолюбив.
И песни будем петь!
И танцы танцевать!
Чтоб весело жилось!
Жизнь благодать!
И. Спасибо
И. Борис Львович, скажите, ваше детство и жизнь Ваших родных прошла на Украине. Ведь на Украине где-то в 20-е годы и раньше были антисемитские выступления, погромы. Попадали ли ваши родственники в такие ситуации?
Р. Старшая сестра моего отца, тетя Гинда, жившая с дореволюционных времен в Киеве, она пережила тяжелый петлюровский погром. Ее младший сын был не похож на еврея, он в эти дни бродил по городу и видел все несчастья, которые творились с евреями. И еще одна родственница, это жена маминого брата Шепы (Шабсая) тетя Гита, она тоже в детстве пережила тяжелый погром на Украине, не помню в каком городке.
И. А в чем это выражалось, не помните?
Р. Я не знаю, касалось ли это их физически или они видели эти несчастья, понимаете. Знаю, что они попали и переживали это тяжелое время.
И. Мы с Вами договорились, что мы возвращаемся в послевоенный Николаев.
Р. В Николаеве я учился в средней мужской школе, поступил в 8 класс, продолжая учебу. Встретился со своими довоенными друзьями детства, которые, конечно, как и я уже выросли.
Многих из тех, с кем я учился до войны, к сожалению, уже не стало. Несколько человек, я знаю , из детей были расстреляны, в том числе, дети из смешанных браков.
С мамой мы жили тогда очень скромно и материально трудно. Я был плохо одет. Но настроение было, тем не менее, хорошим. Кончилась тяжелая война. Мы все ждали каких-нибудь известий о папе. К сожалению, его отправка на фронт была тем финальным известием, о котором мы узнали от его младшего брата. И больше никаких сведений о нем не имели. В 52-ом году мама повторно вышла замуж. Звали его, ее мужа Ионя, или Леня, мы его так называли. Это был человек, который был призван в армию в 39 году и прошел всю войну в боях. Его первая жена погибла в Кировограде, была расстреляна. Имелась у него маленькая дочка, которая в раннем детстве умерла.
В 50-ом году...Простите, в каком году я сказал?
И. В 52-ом.
Р. Нет, я ошибся. Это не 52, в 46-ом году. В 47-ом году, в день, когда я готовился к первому экзамену, родилась у мамы дочь, моя сестра по матери, которую назвали Соней. Очень скоро, через месяц, примерно, я уехал в Ленинград. Я уже рассказывал немножко об этом. Поступил в 1-й медицинский институт. Курс у нас был очень большой. На нашем курсе было много евреев. И курс был интересен еще тем, что это время, когда многие ребята, воевавшие в Великую Отечественную войну, поступали для продолжения учебы в институты. У нас в нашей группе было таких несколько человек, которые прошли, в отличие от нас, выпускников школы, войну. Это были серьезные, уже многоопытные ребята, которые к нам относились приветливо, с большим пониманием наших юных проделок, а сами были уже серьезные опытные люди. Время учебы в Ленинграде были золотой порой моей жизни. Сам Ленинград, студенческая среда, узнавание нового - все это было интересно и знаменально. К сожалению, мое материальное положение было очень скромным. Я был плохо одет, это не позволяло мне часто появлятся в свет и пользоваться теми благами, которые таил в себе Ленинград. Тем не менее, музеи, театры, концерты были мне в какой-то мере доступны. Студенческая жизнь в Ленинграде была очень интересна дружбой, общением. Я участвовал в художественной самодеятельности, занимался общественной работой по профсоюзной линии, был, конечно, комсомольцем.
Поступив учиться в 47 году, окончил институт в 53-м. Вместе с учебой я все эти годы работал. Работал санитаром, позднее - лаборантом. 52-ой - 53-ий год - это были года знаменательные  в жизни советских евреев. Эти годы разгула антисемитизма, и 53-ий год (по моему 53) - это дело врачей. Многие из профессоров, преподавателей нашего института, евреи по национальности, а, заодно, и несколько человек неевреев были позорно исключены, сняты с работы. В последующем, когда они были реабилитированны вскоре, директор института, генерал-майор Иванов, к каждому из них приезжал домой, принося свои извинения. Когда дело врачей было закрыто, многие из русских преподавателей института, в клинике которого я работал, выражали свою радость, выражали свою солидарность со мной как с евреем. По окончании института я получил направление в Таджикистан в г. Ленинабад. Как раз на последнем курсе разгорелось мое увлечение моей однокурсницей Тамарой Растегиной. На гребне большой любви мы расстались с ней, так и не договорившись о том, как мы будем продолжать свои отношения. Она уезжала на работу в Эстонию, в г.Кохтла-Ярве, а я в Ленинабад.
По дороге, по пути в места нашего назначения на работу мы с ней провели пару дней в Москве.
В Ленинабаде я работал в областной больнице, и короткое время (один месяц) работал в горном районе в Захматобаде. Там тогда была вспышка тяжелого гриппа, и я в числе, в составе бригады был послан на усиление медицинских сил. Отработав 11 месяцев, я получил отпуск. К этому времени стали ясны наши отношения с моей возлюбленной, с моей будущей женой, и я поехал в Эстонии с тем, чтобы мы законно оформили свой брак. И вскоре через Таллинн и Москву получил назначение к работе в Кохтла-Ярве. Здесь я проработал 48 лет, продолжаю работать и сейчас, теперь уже на неполную ставку врачом-эндокринологом.
И. Расскажите сейчас о вашей жене.
Р. Моя жена, Тамара Григорьевна, в девичестве Растегина, родом из Ульяновска, Симбирска бывшего. Ее отец родом из мещан, получил профессиональную подготовку, был рабочим-слесарем, а после 36 года был на партийной работе. Они часто... мама  специальности не имела, она кончала, правда, курсы по шитью, была хорошей портнихой. Они часто переезжали в связи с тем, что отец получал назначения на работу в разные места до войны. А как раз перед войной он учился в Высшей партийной школе и они жили там всей семьей. В годы войны отец был в армии политработником, мама в эвакуации. Они вернулись потом в Ульяновск, жили в семье у брата матери. Мама работала на патронном заводе, работала тяжело. У нее был еще младший брат, который погиб еще довольно молодым человеком, попав в автоаварию, от травм. Умерли родители в глубокой старости.
И. Где?
Р. Отец умер в Ульяновске в возрасте 72 лет, а мама последние 5 лет до смерти жила у нас в Кохтла-Ярве, умерла в возрасте 94 лет.
И. Скажите, а как они относились к Вам?
Р. Отношение родителей жены ко мне и родственников жены было очень дружественное, теплое, благожелательное, несмотря на то, что все знали, что я по национальности еврей. Жена все годы по окончании института работала по специальности фтизиатора в г. Кохтла-Ярве. Продолжает работать и сейчас. Мы с ней оба много раз проходили усовершенствование, имеем большой практический опыт работы по специальности и пользуемся довольно хорошим авторитетом у коллег и у больных. У нас родилось двое детей, сыновья. Семья была очень дружная. Специальных каких-то традиций по еврейству я им передать не мог, так как сам был с ними мало знаком. Но лет 10 назад, когда у нас в городе образовалась еврейская община, оба сына принимали участие в жизни нашей маленькой общины. Младший сын около 5 лет назад трагически умер, а старший, к сожалению, сейчас без работы, но принимает участие в жизни еврейской общины. Младший сын по образованию был врачом, закончил Тартуский медицинский институт. Старший сын закончил заочно Политехнический институт в Таллинне и работал 15-16 лет инженером-программистом.
Надо сказать, что, благодаря старшему сыну, я в последние годы с большим удовольствием и глубоко познакомился с историей еврейства, с традициями еврейства, т.к. у него много литературы, сам он интересуется этими вопросами.
И. Он же не только сам интересуется, но и других знакомит с этим.
Р. Да, он работает в маленькой воскресной школе, где преподает историю и традиции еврейства.
И. У него много литературы?
Р. Очень много литературы. Он широко эрудирован вообще в вопросах литературы, искусства, истории. Склонен к гуманитарным дисциплинам, хорошо знает французский язык.
И. Он ведь занимается и переводами.
Р. Занимается и переводами. У него большая коллекция музыкальных произведений, музыкальных записей, в том числе и еврейских песен на идиш и на иврите. И он широко использует эти записи для ознакомления членов общины на вечерах, которые у нас регулярно и довольно часто проходят.
И. Вы ведь тоже принимаете участие и в вечерах и в других мероприятиях?
Р. Да. Мы с женой и с сыном регулярно учавствуем на праздниках, которые отмечает наша община. Я позволяю себе даже выступать с еврейскими песнями. Это, несмотря на мои скромные голосовые данные, встречается всегда с удовольствием, с приязнью.
И. Да, я помню как Вы с сыном выступали на «Пуримшпиле». Тоже, мне кажется, очень удачно. Это было в прошлом году.
Р. Да, это было очень удачное выступление, пожалуй, впервые с таким инсценированием и костюмированным приложением.
И. Хорошо. Спасибо.
Р. В заключении нашего интевью я хочу сказать следующее: только недавно канул в историю 20 век. Век интересный, давшей миру много научных открытий, много произведений искусства и литературы. Век жестокий, давший миру тяжелые войны. Век жестокий для евреев, давший евреям России и некоторых других стран, тяжелые погромы, давший евреям тяжелое, зверское, неслыханное испытание - холокост. Начало нового века, нового столетия тоже неспокойно. И приходится удивляться тому, что народы мира не научили уроки прошлого ценить мир, бороться за мир. Для евреев минувший век был знаменателен и тем, что образовалось еврейское государство, давшее возможность всем евреям ощутить свое самосознанье, ощутить единство евреев. Недавно я читал интересную книгу, переписку Пунина, известного литературоведа и историка. В одном из писем к нему женщины, которая оказалась в далеком зарубежье, которая любила его с юности, есть такая фраза : «Мир близким, всем евреям, всем людям любви! Любви к жизни во всех ее проявлениях красоты и доброты, любви к своим близким, любви интимной, всепоглощающей любви.» И еще я хочу пожелать мира и спокойствия, оптимизма и надежд и их свершения
И. Борис Львович, у нас нет пока сведений о вашей маме после войны, после того как она вышла замуж и родила Соню. Расскажите, что было с ней дальше.
Р. В 1958 г. умер ее второй супруг. Вскоре после этого,  в тот же год, она с дочерью, с моей сестрой Софой переехали к нам Кохтла-Ярве, в Эстонию. Здесь мама и Софочка жили в нашей семье. Мама не работала, помогала по хозяйству. По окончании школы Софа поступила в Тартуский университет на филологическое отделение и благополучно его окончила. Последние годы мама жила в семье дочери Софы и умерла в возрасте 80 лет в 1987 г.
И. А Соня?
Р. Софочка по окончании университета короткое время учительствовала, а потом стала работать сотрудником в местной газете, где и работает до настоящего времени. Корреспондент местной газеты.
И. У нее дочь?
Р. У нее дочь. Сейчас уже дочь взрослая, и, 2 года назад она стала счастливой бабушкой. Дочь подарила ей двойню, двух девочек.
И. Спасибо.
Р. В 99 году, в год моего 70-летия, я имел большой подарок - был приглашен своим племянником, который уже более 20 лет живет в Израиле, и посетил Израиль, где находился ровно 20 дней. Мне сумели организовать большие поездки и экскурсии по стране. За эти дни я буквально ни дня не сидел на месте. Я исколесил Израиль с юга на север и с запада на восток. Повидал очень много интересного, ознакомился со страной, проникся гордостью за евреев, за страну, за те успехи, которые они сумели сделать по развитию страны за сравнительно короткое время. Мне очень много понравилось там. Я за эти дни сумел навестить всех своих тамошних родственников, двоюродных братьев и сестер, всех своих старых друзей по институту, которые в большом количестве живут сейчас в Израиле. Эта поездка дала мне большое вдохновение, укрепила меня как еврея. В свое время мама говорила такую поговорку, которую, наверное, не сама придумала:
«Кто мы есть, есть мы,
Но мы евреи!»
Я с самого своего детства всегда ощущал себя евреем, хотя историю еврейства, традиции в детстве знал очень слабо. Только в последние несколько лет я имел удовольствие и счастье прикоснуться к большой и интересной истории нашего народа. С большим удовольствием прочитал и освоил много интересных книг о евреях, о старых временах, временах недавних и о нынешних временах.
Тем не менее, моей женой является Тамара Григорьевна, по национальности русская. Мы с ней познакомились в первые годы учебы в институте. У нас было много общих друзей из институтских товарищей разных национальностей, в том числе, много евреев. На 6 курсе, в год, когда мы проходили специализацию по нашей будущей профессии (по терапии), у нас заполыхал огонь любви. это был большой душевный взлет. Вся жизнь казалась прекрасной, и, все-таки, в этот год мы не решили, как будет складываться наша дальнейшая судьба. И на работу разъехались в разные далекие концы. Она - в Эстонию, я - Таджикистан. Весь этот год нашей разлуки мы переписывались, буквально обменивались письмами каждые 2-3 дня, на протяжении всего года. И, наконец, выяснили свои отношения, и решили пожениться. Приехав в отпуск к ней в Эстонию в августе 1954 г., мы с ней официально оформили свой брак. Я переехал на постоянное место жительства и на работу в Кохтла-Ярве, где мы прожили вот уже скоро около 50 лет - 48 лет. Тамарочка явилась и навсегда осталась для меня хорошим верным другом, человеком, с которым у меня много общего в наших представлениях об идеалах, об отношениях к людям. Она является для меня символом доброты, верности и самоотверженности. Все эти годы она много работала тем не менее сумела быть хранительницей нашего очага. С рождением первого ребенке спустя год после нашего супружества, она очень много сделала для его развития. Сама любя много читать, зная хорошо русскую литературу, основы изобразительного искусства, живописи, она сумела привить нашему первенцу любовь к книге, любовь к искусству, любовь к истории. Учась в школе, он дополнительно занимался в музыкальной школе, занимался языком и получил хорошее развитие.
Спустя 7 лет у нас родился еще один мальчик. Чудесный солнечный лучик. Наши годы, когда дети были юными, были безмерно счастливыми. Мы часто выезжали в Ленинград, в музеи, в театры вместе с ними. Виделись с нашими институтскими друзьями - ленинградцами. Жили очень, очень интересно. У нас появилась большая коллекция книг. Позднее дети занимались коллекционированием музыки: классической, эстрадной, зарубежной, еврейской.
Последние годы были омрачены болезнями детей, потерей близких.
Но и сейчас наши отношения с женой, наша дружба с ней не омрачены ничем. Я считаю, что в жизни мне с моей женой очень повезло.

Dóczi Sándorné

Életrajz

Dóczi Zsuzsa nagyon talpraesett, gyakorlatias, dinamikus hölgy, akinek rengeteg barátja van, és ott segít, ahol csak tud. Mióta Budapestre költözött, ugyanabban a lakásban él, de a lakást azóta többször is átalakították. Lánya, veje és két unokája több mint húsz éve Amerikába költözött. Telefonon, e-mailen keresztül tartja velük a kapcsolatot. Mióta nyugdíjas, minden évben náluk tölti a nyári hónapokat. Rendszeres programokra jár a barátnőivel, gyakran találkoznak valamelyikőjük lakásán is. Szeretnek koncertekre, előadásokra járni. Dóczi Zsuzsa beosztással, takarékosan él, igyekszik támogatni Amerikában élő unokáit.

Az édesapám apukája, Deutsch Márkusz nagyon korán halt meg. Valami baleset érte, negyvenöt éves volt. Nem tudok róla semmit. Nem is ismertem. Sárbogárdon, a zsidó temetőben van  eltemetve; tudom is a sírkövét. Körülbelül az 1920-as években halt meg [Nagyon bizonytalanok az évszámok: ha a nagyapa 45 éves korában halt meg, és ez az 1920-as években lett volna, akkor az 1880-as években kellett volna születnie, de a gyerekeik 1895-ben, ill. 1896-ban születtek, valószínű tehát, hogy a nagyapa korábban született, és korábban is halt meg. – A szerk.]. Nagyapámnak földje volt. Apukám folytatta az ő ténykedését. Aba-Káloz volt az ő otthonuk [Aba és Káloz egymástól mintegy 10 km-re fekvő Fejér vm.-i nagyközség volt. Abának 1891-ben 3300, 1900-ban 3600, 1910-ben 4200 lakosa, Káloznak 1891-ben 4200, 1910-ben és 1920-ban 4400 lakosa volt. – A szerk.]. Abán volt a birtok, amin belterjes gazdálkodással foglalkoztak.

A nagyapám testvéreiről nem tudok. Biztos, hogy voltak, mert rokoni ágak vannak. Unokatestvérek házasodtak össze. Úgyhogy van olyan unokatestvérem, hogy dupla, mert anyai és apai ágon kerültek össze. Ez gyakori volt. És egészségesek voltak. Úgy tűnik, nem is volt semmi elhajlás, elváltozás vagy visszaütés. Nem emlékszem rá.

A nagymamámat Deutsch Márkusznénak hívták. Háztartásbeli volt, én hat éves voltam, amikor szegényke elment, 1933-ban. Nem nagyon emlékszem rá. Talán hagyományos sötét blúzt és szoknyát viselt. Ő Abán halt meg. Szívós, sokat dolgozó emberek voltak tulajdonképpen mind. Eléggé megviselt, idősebb hölgy volt. Persze az akkori időkre visszaemlékezve, egy gyereknek egészen más benyomásai vannak, mint a mai világban. A mai világban, mondjuk, én magamat nem tartom olyan öregnek, mint amilyen öregre emlékszem. Szóval ez egy érdekes dolog.

Édesapámnak egy testvére volt, a Deutsch Jenő, aki a székesfehérvári Szegő birtoknak volt a főintézője [lásd: birtokkezelés], de ő 1943-ban természetes halállal, tébécében halt meg. Azt nem tudom, mikor született, talán 1895-ben. Egy lánya van, Deutsch Vera, aki ma is él Budapesten, a másik meghalt a háborúban. Ők is vallásosak voltak, olyanok, mint mi.

Anyukám szülei, Krausz Mór és Mórné [született Keller Katica] Sárbogárdon születtek mindketten, de nem tudom megmondani, melyik évben. A nagymamám tizenegy gyermeket szült, de három gyerek még bébi korban meghalt, úgyhogy nyolc felnőtt gyereke volt a nagymamámnak. Nyolc élő testvér volt, és majdnem mindenkit Auschwitzba vittek, komplett családdal, tehát mintegy harminchat hozzátartozómat égették el Auschwitzban.

A nagyszüleim öltözékére nem igazán emlékszem. Polgári öltözékük volt, semmi népviselet. Szép nagy bajusza volt nagypapámnak. De már a fiúknak, anyukám testvéreinek nem volt. Hagyománytisztelők voltak a maguk módján, de parókához vagy valami különleges öltözethez nem ragaszkodtak. Ortodox zsidók voltak, kóser háztartást vezettek [lásd: étkezési törvények]. Őket még az ötvenéves házassági évfordulójukon én köszöntöttem. Emlékszem rá, asztalra állítottak föl, és egy óriási gyöngyvirágcsokrot adtam át. Ez 1933-ban volt. Az édesanyám anyukája 1933-ban halt meg, az apukája 1935-ben. Azt hiszem, két év differenciával. A nagyszüleim zsidó temetést kaptak. Rabbi és kántor is volt.

Édesanyám szüleinek egy nagy vaskereskedésük volt Sárbogárdon, az Ady Endre utca 124. szám alatt. Úgy hívták, hogy Fülöp és Fia. Ez a Fülöp, akiről a családi boltot elnevezték, valami dédszülő lehetett. Aztán nagypapa tette le az alapot. A nagypapa, már amire vissza tudok emlékezni, tulajdonképpen ki volt már vonva az üzleti életből, a gyerekek csinálták az üzletet. Nem volt olyan akkor, hogy nyugdíjas, tulajdonképpen a gyerek tartotta el a szülőt. Akkor ezek a családi vállalkozások erre voltak jók. Nem volt gond a szülővel, hogy mi is legyen. Akkor még nem volt annyira családi vagyon, de az alapokat lerakták hozzá, és a családi összetartás alapján tulajdonképpen a megélhetés is megvolt.

Az üzlet alapvetően vaskereskedés volt, de foglalkoztak üvegárusítással, különféle vasidomok árusításával, bőrfeldolgozással is. Sokirányú volt a kereskedés, minden, ami vassal kapcsolatos, tehát edények, üvegáruk, porcelánáru, gömbvas, rúdvas, szögvas, dróthálók, szögféleségek, patkolási anyagok – ez mind a profilban volt. Benzinkútjuk is volt. Az üzlet előtt volt a benzinkút. Minden fiúnak, aki itt dolgozott, megvolt a maga területe, feladata. Nagyszerűen csinálták, szakértelemmel.

Akkora üzlet volt, hogy a gazdaságokat, az ipari tevékenykedőket, az egész falut – akkor még falu volt, ma már mezőváros –, az egész környéket ellátták vasáruval, bőráruval. Nagy uradalmak voltak, nagy papi birtokok, nagy gazdaságok, azok mind innen vásároltak. Sokkal kényelmesebb volt, mint mindenkinek egyénileg Pestre fölutazni. Ők ki voltak szolgálva.

Az üzletnek két bejárata volt, meg lépcsőháza. Tartottak lovat is, mert akkor még a szállítás, az árubeszerzés nem volt ilyen természetes, mint ma. Ők küldtek egy stráfkocsit Budapestre nagy, teherbíró lovakkal, és innen vitték az árut Sárbogárdra. Tartottak erre természetesen embert, és az az ember jött Pestre az áruért. Két nap föl, két nap lefelé. És az üzletben is volt segítség. Mert amit nem mondtam még, hogy tüzelőanyaggal is foglalkoztak. Tehát volt szénraktár, volt faraktár. Oda is volt egy segítség, mert már azt a férfiak se győzték. Kellett egy ember, aki ide is ment, oda is ment.

Édesanyámnak hét testvére volt. A három férfi, Krausz Gyula, Krausz Viktor és Krausz Dezső nős volt. Volt két lány, Margit és Irénke és még két férfi, Aladár és Sándor. A Krausz Gyulának két fia volt. Az egyik, a Krausz László, aki Svájcban végezte az iskoláit, de sajnos itt nem fogadták el, és be kellett vonulnia katonának, és nem egy évet, hanem két évet kellett szolgálnia. Tüdőbajt kapott, és sajnos ezért nem is bírta ki a háborút. A Krausz Dezsőnek egy kislánya volt, aki Auschwitzban maradt, skarlátot kapott, és az vitte el. A Krausz Margit férjhez ment Siófokra. Őt Nátánnénak hívták. Az Irénke férjhez ment egy Schreiber Fülöp nevű könyvelőhöz, aki az aszódi rabbinak volt a fia, és ő végezte a cégnek a könyvelését és minden ezzel kapcsolatos adminisztrációt. Irénke vezette a háztartást. Nagyon ügyes nő volt, nagyon jó háziasszony volt. A nagyszüleimet is ő látta el.

A testvérek közül a családi vállalkozásban dolgozott az Irénke, a Dezső és a Gyula a családjával, valamint a Sándor és az Aladár. Tehát komplett három család élt ebből a vállalkozásból, plusz két szóló volt, akik agglegények voltak. Az egyik az Aladár, aki avval együtt, hogy született szívbeteg volt, a Don-kanyart megjárta. A boltban ő volt a nyersbőrbegyűjtő. Fölvásárolta a nyúlbőrt, a marhabőrt, ha a vágóhídról hozta, ő kikészítette, megsózta, tárolta, csomagolta, szállította. Nagyon ronda munka volt és büdös. Szegénykém, ezt csinálta. Nem volt iskolája, mert szellemileg kicsit elmaradott volt. Nem tudtak rá szellemi munkát bízni, ezért volt ilyen jól megoldva családon belül, hogy ő fizikai munkára volt beosztva. És azt nagyon jól tudta csinálni. Ő a háború után, 1946-ban nősült meg. A felesége Sárbogárdon halt meg, rákban.

Sándor adta ki a vasárut. Lemérte hosszra, súlyra, ahogy kérték, úgy szolgálta ki a kedves ügyfeleket. Nagy környéke volt Sárbogárdnak. Úgyszólván nem is volt hasonló nagy cég, mint ők. A zsidóság általában a kereskedelemhez nagyon jól értett. Hosszú távon gondolkozott. Nem akartak percek alatt meggazdagodni. Nagyon sokat dolgoztak, hosszú éveket azért, hogy az üzlet színvonalban azt tudta nyújtani a család tagjainak, amit ők tulajdonképpen akartak vagy elvártak egymástól.

Anyukámnak volt még egy bátyja, Krausz Viktornak hívták. Kozma Viktorra magyarosította [lásd: névmagyarosítás]. A Salgótarjáni Kőszénbányának volt igazgatója. Református vallású felesége volt. Viktorék éltek egy darabig Romániában is. Ott a petrozsényi szénbányák igazgatója volt. Bukarestben is éltek egy darabig, és amikor hazalátogattak, akkor mindig a Palace Szállóban szálltak meg. Emlékszem, mindig kiálltam a hotelszobájuk erkélyére, és onnan csodáltam a várost. 1937-ben kivándorolt Izraelbe. Izraelben nagyon nehezen indult be az életük, sokáig szinte nyomorogtak. Viktor így maradt meg. Haifán élt, és a háború után, 1954-ben halt meg. A felesége visszatelepült Magyarországra, itt halt meg, 1969-ben.

A családi házban volt mindenkinek egy külön hálószobája. A családi üzlet felett külön emeleti rész volt a Gyulának, ahol a feleség, sőt a feleség testvérei, két fiú élt. A másik szárnyon a másik testvér, a Krausz Dezső lakott. A három családnak három háztartása volt, a két nőtlen fiú a szülői házban lakott, a Krausz Gyulának és a Krausz Dezsőnek külön háromszobás lakása volt, és az külön háztartás volt. Őnekik nem volt bentlakásos lány, ha jól tudom, csak bejárónőt vettek. Később hozzáépítettek [a családi házhoz] egy kis új részt az Irénkének, mert gyerekük született, és úgy voltak berendezve. Én sokat voltam náluk, azért tudom ennyire az életet. Nagyon szerettem ott lenni, mert ott mindig mindenkinek volt ideje velem és a többi gyerekkel foglalkozni.

Volt a háznál kisegítő személyzet is. Az egy természetes dolog volt akkor, ha egy ilyen nagy család volt, hogy segítséget tudtak maguk mellé venni. Hogy azt mosónőnek vették vagy takarítónőnek, azt nem tudom. Volt egy időszak, amikor kicsik voltak a gyerekek, és akkor bentlakással fogadtak háztartási alkalmazottat [lásd: cseléd]. Meg voltak olyan szegény lányok, akiknek kimondottan jó volt, hogy eljöhettek otthonról. Nyolcan voltak testvérek, eggyel kevesebbnek kellett enni adni, ha elmentek így családokhoz háztartásba segíteni. De persze az egy nehéz dolog volt, mert látástól vakulásig dolgoztak.

Kóser háztartás volt mindenhol. A szombat bizonyos mértékig volt csak megtartva. Olyan igazán, hogy semmit ne csináljanak [lásd: szombati munkavégzés tilalma], az ismeretlen fogalom volt. Nem tudok igaziból erre visszaemlékezni, hogy mennyire volt. A nagyünnepeket biztos, hogy betartották. Akkor nem nyitottak ki. A Ros Hásáná vagy Jom Kipur, tehát az engesztelőnap, biztos, hogy szigorúan be volt tartva. Úgy, mint egy karácsony. Senki nem dolgozott semmit akkor.

Volt zsidó hitközség is Sárbogárdon. 1943 szeptemberében még együtt ünnepeltünk. A zsidó vallás szerint tíz embernek kell lenni ahhoz, hogy egy hitközséget alapítson, vagyis hogy istentiszteletet tudjon tartani [lásd: minján]. És Sárbogárdon az utolsó percig megvolt, és a szüleim úgy döntöttek, hogy együtt ünneplünk, tehát a sárbogárdi rokonaimmal együtt. Abán túl sokba került volna, hogy három-négy embert vegyen pluszba, hogy minimum tízen legyünk. És 1943 szeptemberében, amikor az őszi nagyünnepek voltak, akkor ott ünnepeltünk. Ott volt akkor kihelyezett rabbi, aki ezt lefolytatta. És ott, mondjuk, a tíz ember még simán össze tudott jönni.

Arra, hogy kinek milyen politikai nézetei voltak, miben volt tag, nem emlékszem. Azt hiszem, a szóló fiúk közül az egyik egy férfikórusban volt benne. Volt református kör, azt hiszem, oda ment, mert zsidó kórus nem volt. Ha jól tudom, háromszáz zsidó volt Sárbogárdon körülbelül. Lehetett egy olyan hat-nyolcezer lakosa összesen. Mert Abának volt négyezer lakosa.

A lakossággal a környéken nagyon jó viszony volt. Zsidókkal, nem zsidókkal ugyanolyan. Az természetes volt, hogy a kereskedőcsalád összejárt a papcsaláddal, a közjegyzővel, a járásbíróval, a jegyzővel [lásd: községi jegyző], a postamesterrel, az adóhivatallal. Nem volt gettórendszer vagy kasztrendszer. A kereskedőcsalád el volt fogadva. És kellett is, szüksége is volt rá, mert hogyha akart árut szállítani, szüksége volt az állomásfőnökre, ha az állata megbetegedett, szüksége volt az állatorvosra, ha a gyerekét küldte az iskolába, a tanítóra meg az orvosra. A körzeti orvos vagy járási orvos is zsidó volt Sárbogárdon, és nagyon-nagyon nagy tudású, nagyon okos, nagyon helyes emberek voltak. Nekem műtötte az ujjamat Olivér bácsi. Hogyha kellett, szülést vezetett le, ha kellett, ujjat műtött, amit kellett, azt gyógyított. Nagyon nagy gyakorlatra tettek szert ezek az orvosok.

Tulajdonképpen a kiszolgáltatottság bőven megvolt akkor is. Mert a zsidó állampolgár azért a második világháború előtt is meglehetősen kiszolgáltatott volt. Kellett bőven alkalmazkodnia a helyi vezetőséghez. Értem ezen a községi elöljáróságot, a jegyző, adóügyi jegyző, csendőrség, tanító, állatorvos, állomásfőnök – ezek voltak a helyi előkelőségek, úgymond. Ezekhez kellett egy gazdálkodó embernek alkalmazkodnia. Ahhoz, hogy egy terménykereskedő megfelelőképpen tudjon árut szállítani, az állomásfőnök feltétlen jóindulatára volt szükség, hogy megfelelő vagonkészlet álljon rendelkezésre.

A nagyszüleim nem jártak el nyaralni. A családok, már az új generáció, az igen. A nagybátyáim jártak rendszeresen három hétre Hajdúszoboszlóra gyógykúrára, az járt nekik. Az utolsó öt-hat évben biztos. A kereskedők beosztották úgy az üzleti életet, amikor tudták, hogy mikor leggyengébb a forgalom, tehát vége a gazdasági évadnak, de még nem indult be, akkor mindig sorban, felváltva egyik elutazott, másik otthon maradt. Mert azért nagyon megterhelő munkákat végeztek. Ők csak Magyarországra mentek. Vagy Harkány, vagy Hajdúszoboszló, ott a reumát és az ízületi megbetegedéseket gyógyították. Külföld ismeretlen volt akkor számunkra.

Édesapám 1896. április másodikán született Kálozon, Fejér megyében [Káloz nagyközség volt Fejér vm.-ben, 1891-ben 4200, 1910-ben és 1920-ban 4400 lakossal. – A szerk.]. Deutsch Andornak hívták. Legjobb tudomásom szerint négy középfokú végzettsége volt neki [Föltehetően polgári iskolát végzett. – A szerk.], és mellette gazdálkodó képesítést szerzett. Gazdálkodó volt, a saját földjén és bérleményen, a fivére földjén is gazdálkodott, ő hasznosította azt is. Édesapám Abán lakott, oda nősült 1926-ban. Aba Székesfehérvártól huszonhét kilométerre terül el. Apukámnak hetven katasztrális holdja volt. Ezerhatszáz négyszögöl egy katasztrális hold, egy magyar hold pedig ezerkétszáz négyszögöl. Én ezt pontosan tudom. Ez le van fektetve, akik a földekkel, telekkönyvekkel és mérésekkel foglalkoznak, azok tudják. Ez így megmaradt bennem még. Ez pontos és hiteles! Úgyhogy bárhol le lehet ellenőrizni, és utána lehet nézni. Hetven katasztrális holdja volt, és ehhez bérleményeket szokott megmunkálásra fölvállalni [Karády Viktor számításai szerint 1910-ben a magyarországi zsidóság 6,7 (a Dunántúlon 5,1%-a) űzött mezőgazdasági foglalkozást. „A dunántúli megyékben … a földműveléssel foglalkozó zsidóság többsége … a földbirtokos réteghez tartozott”, azaz a „földtulajdonos polgársághoz”. Lásd még: a földművelés szerepe a zsidóság rétegződésében a 20. század elején. – A szerk.]. Belterjes gazdálkodást folytatott, búzát, kukoricát, napraforgót, lucernát termesztett. Voltak segítői is, nyolc-tíz ember. A földek a falu határán terültek el, öt-tíz kilométerre onnan, ahol laktunk. Édesapám a gazdálkodás mellett terményfelvásárló is volt, és állatokat is hizlalt, disznókat.

Azt hiszem, hogy fiatalemberként a hadseregben nem szolgált, mert felmentett volt, gyerekkorában volt egy szembalesete. Egy szódásüveg fölrobbant a kezében, és ezért fölmentették a katonaságtól. Egyszer bevonult Székesfehérvárra, és hazaengedték egy hónap után. Csak kisegítő szolgálatra volt három-három hónapokra behívva.

Anyukám Deutsch Andorné, született Krausz Frida. 1897-ben született, Sárbogárdon. Neki négy polgárija volt. Akkor az volt az általános, és nagyon értelmes, nagyon okos, nagyon tettre kész, ügyes, intelligens asszony volt. És nagyon szép volt. 1926-ban ment férjhez a papámhoz, és 1944-ig éltek együtt. A szüleim valószínűleg úgy találkoztak, hogy miután Aba és Sárbogárd harminc kilométer távolságban volt, gondolom, hogy mamámnak sok kérője akadt, de nagyon sokat válogatott, és azt hiszem, végül az én apukámat ajánlották neki [lásd: házasságközvetítő]. Vallásos esküvő volt [lásd: esküvői szertartás], Sárbogárdon tartották. Sárbogárdon volt szép zsinagóga. Nem nagy, de nagyon szép kis zsinagóga volt. De az is lehet, hogy a szabad ég alatt tartották. Mert tulajdonképpen az ortodoxia szabad ég alatt épít hüpét [Egyes ortodox askenázi közösségekben a hüpét a szabad ég alatt állítják föl, mivel a csillagok a termékenység jelképei. A zsinagógán belüli hüpe-állítást számos ortodox zsidó kifogásolta, mert szerintük ez a templomi esküvők utánzása. – A szerk.].

Az apám vallásos volt. A zsidóságát tartotta. Naponta imádkozott. Az étkezések előtti áldásokat mondta általában, a „moci lehem”-et és a „hágáfen min háárec”-et – a kenyérre, és borra vonatkozó áldásokat –, és étkezés után bencsolt. Általában kalapot viselt [lásd: ortodox zsidó viselet], imádkozáshoz és étkezéshez mindig viselt kalapot.  Ő egy istenhívő ember volt, és a maga módján próbálta betartani a vallási előírásokat. Csak a nagyünnepekre tudott imalehetőséget szervezni. A zsinagógában csak nagyünnepeken voltak istentiszteletek. Abán volt valamikor zsidó hitközség, de a mi időnkben már nem volt meg az istentiszteletekhez szükséges tíz férfiember. Már kevés zsidóság volt a faluban, és a tíz ember nem volt meg. A papám ilyenkor mindig fölvett az ünnepekre két-három embert, hogy tudják a szükséges létszámot produkálni.

Kóser háztartást csináltak a szüleim, a környékbeli falukat járta egy metsző [lásd: sakter], és a szüleim is azzal vágattak. Tehát az ottani lehetőségeknek és körülményeknek megfelelően tartották a vallást.

Nem emlékszem, hogy a szüleim mennyire folytak bele a politikai életbe. Legföljebb a Kisgazdapártba mint gazdálkodó a papám. De én ezt a részét az életnek tizennégy-tizenöt évesen nem ismertem, nem előttem játszódott le. Hogy a papám oda járt-e vagy nem, ezt igazán meg nem tudom mondani.

Én 1927-ben születtem, Székesfehérvárott. A deportálásunkig Abán éltem a szüleimmel és az öcsémmel. Az öcsém 1930-ban született, Gyurikának hívták, Deutsch Györgynek. Székesfehérváron született ő is. Kiskorunkban játszottunk együtt, de miután jött az általános iskola [azaz elemi iskola], majd később a gimnázium, elkerültünk egymástól. Tizennégy éves volt, amikor Auschwitzban mindjárt elgázosították.

Anyukám háztartásbeli volt, illetve a papámnak segített a gazdasági tevékenykedésében, ha rászorult. Akkoriban minden így ment ugye, hogy segítőtársa volt a papámnak. Adminisztráció, ügyintézés ezekben a dolgokban, a vidéki életben.

A társadalom többi rétegéhez képest jó anyagi helyzetben voltak, de nem éltek könnyen. Nagyon megdolgoztak azért a mindennapokban. De a gyerekeknek mindent megadtak. Apukám nagyon korán kelt. Négy-öt órakor már a gazdaságba ki kellett mennie neki. Mindennél ott kellett lennie. Ebéd után le is feküdt, az hozzátartozott a mindennapi életéhez. Szóval nagyon fárasztó életük volt. Nagyjából a középpolgársághoz tartozhattunk. Tulajdonképpen beosztással, szorgalommal, megfelelő odafigyeléssel kellett élni ahhoz, hogy ezt a színvonalat a szüleim tudják tartani. Nyilván a szüleim a nagyszülőktől tanultak, és a nagyszülők takarékos életmódját próbálták továbbvinni. Nem tudtak könnyen élni, benne volt a vérükben az alaposság, és nekünk mint gyerekeknek a szülői tiszteletet nagyon-nagyon be kellett tartani.

Szerintem szegény szüleimnek olvasásra már nem nagyon jutott idejük. Mert a mindennapi élet azért annyira igénybe vette őket, hogy az újságon kívül olyan nagy irodalmi életet nem volt alkalmuk élni. Újságot olvastak, „Kis Újság”, „Magyar Nemzet” – az akkori „Magyar Nemzet” más jellegű volt,  és „Magyar Hírlap” [„Kis Újság” – Wodiáner Fülöp által 1887-ben alapított politikai napilap. Néplap volt, hatalmas címlapképekkel, szenzációkeltő riportokkal (1939-ben az FKgP lapja lett) (Magyar Nagylexikon); „Magyar Hírlap” – 1891-ben alapított liberális politikai napilap volt. Munkatársai közé tartozott Ambrus Zoltán, Benedek Elek, Bródy Sándor, Gárdonyi Géza, Heltai Jenő, Jókai Mór, Mikszáth Kálmán, Móra Ferenc. 1926-ban a betiltott „Világ” megvásárolta a lapot, és annak neve alatt jelent meg (Magyar Nagylexikon). – A szerk.]. Ha jól emlékszem, ez a három újság volt.

A szüleim nem jártak nyaralni. A mamám nem hagyta ott a papámat, mert a földeket, a gazdálkodást nem lehetett otthagyni. Évek hosszú sora elmúlt, el se utaztak sehová. Én tízéves gyermek voltam, amikor is anyukám legidősebb bátyja, Viktor, aki Romániában mint a petrozsényi szénbányák igazgatója dolgozott, bérelt egy házat a feleségével Erdélyben, Szovátán [Üdülőhely volt Maros megyében, Románia északi központi részében, hírnevét sós, klóros, nátriumos vizű heliotermális tavairól nyerte. – A szerk.]. És én útlevéllel mentem, két nyáron át. A mamám nem jött, csak a húga. És ővelük nyaraltam én, mert ők eljöttek három hétre.

Abán, ahol laktunk, nem igazán volt kiépítve az infrastruktúra. A villanyt 1937-ben vezették be. Akkor volt Fejér megye villamosítása [Magyarországon 1933-ig az összes település 27%-án vált elérhetővé a villanyvilágítás, 1938-ig 36%-ában (a lakosság 71%-a élt ezeken a településeken). A második világháborút követően több lépésben törekedett a kormányzat az egész ország egységes energiarendszerben történő villamosítására. 1963-ra fejeződött be a települések villamosítása, ezt követően lényegében csak a tanyavilágban maradtak ellátatlan területek. – A szerk.]. A villany már nagy dolog volt, amikor bevezették – persze saját költségen. És akkor jött a kis néprádió [Az 1939/40-ben elindult ún. néprádió-akció során fejlesztett ki négy nagy európai elektronikai cég, a Telefunken, a Standard, a Philips és a magyar Orion Villamossági Rt. egy olcsó rádiókészülék-típust, a néprádiót. (Egyébként az Orion 1950-től is gyártott ilyen készüléket, melyen csak a Kossuth és a Petőfi adó volt fogható. Ez volt az Orion 115, melyet a népnyelv „Rákosi néprádiónak nevezett. Ára 380 Ft volt.)Lásd még: rádiózás. – A szerk.]. És emlékszem, amikor a Gömbös temetése volt, hogy közvetítette a rádió [Ezt persze nyilván nem otthon hallgatta, hanem talán valamelyik sárbogárdi rokonnál, ugyanis Gömbös Gyula 1936-ban halt meg. – A szerk.]. Meg a Hitler első beszédeit. Én még emlékszem a petróleumlámpára, a kályhatüzelésre, kútról hozták a vizet. Vízvezetékünk egyáltalán nem volt. Angolvécé nem volt, imitálva volt csak víztartállyal és egyéb dolgokkal. A ház végében volt, még fapados. Sparhelt volt. A járda sem volt kikövezve, csak földutak voltak és kátyúk. És sár és sár és sár. Úgy is hívták a szomszéd falvakat, hogy Sárkereszt meg Sárbogárd. Nem véletlen! Sárbogárdon, amikor már gimnazista voltam [Vagyis amikor már gimnazista korú volt. Székesfehérvárott járt gimnáziumba. – A szerk.], az úttest ki volt kövezve, de Abán nem.

Református iskolába jártam. A református templomban is vizsgáztunk. Nem volt zsidó gyerek a faluban. Az orvosnak volt két gyereke, nálunk volt két gyerek, és még volt a Kohn Magdika, meg Kohn Sanyi, összesen hat-hét gyerek volt, az járt a református iskolába. Volt zsidó iskolájuk, de azt hiszem, az 1930-as években abbamaradt. Nem volt, aki tartsa. Nem volt gyerek. Abán nem is volt akkor semmiféle zsidó intézmény vagy közösség.

Héberül taníttattak a szüleim, a szomszéd falubeli metsző, aki a kóser vágásokat [lásd: sehita] csinálta, ő volt, aki a héber betűkkel megismertetett, és az alapáldásokat megtaníttatta velünk, és megtanított héberül olvasni. Kissé hibásan biztosan, de azért most is tudnék. Pontozott hébert [lásd: pontozott szöveg] tanultunk. Nyolcéves koromtól egészen tizenhat éves koromig tanultam hébert.

Vallási élményem talán igazán egy van, hogy tizennégy éves koromban konfirmáltam – akkoriban így nevezték a bát micvát, ami Székesfehérváron nagy ünnepség volt [A bát micvát 12 éves korban tartják, de a neológok körében a lányok részére 13 éves korban a bát micvá helyett sok helyen ún. konfirmálás volt. – A szerk.]. Voltunk körülbelül tizenketten, akiket fölavattak, a doktor Boros István rabbi, illetve doktor Hirschler Pál főrabbi [Hirschler Pál (Nagykanizsa, 1907 – Auschwitz, 1944) – az Országos Rabbiképző Intézet egyik legígéretesebb tehetségű növendéke, gazdag keleti nyelvi, főként asszír ismereteket szerzett, amelyek alapján már rabbi-jelölt korában több pályadíjat nyert dolgozataival. 1931-től 1944-ig tartó székesfehérvári rabbisága idején az egyre erősödő antiszemita nyomással szemben a hitközség belső önvédelmének megerősítésén, a zsidó öntudat kiépítésén fáradozott a hitközségi vezetőkkel és a később mártírhalált halt rabbitársaival együtt (www.sofar.hu/hu/node/37441). – A szerk.]. Mindketten székesfehérvári neológ rabbik voltak Az egy nagyon szép ünnepség volt a templomban, amit 1944-ben lebombáztak; ma csak egy imaház van Székesfehérváron. És utána volt egy délutáni zsúr, délutáni uzsonna. Az egyik lánykánál, Braun Editnél tartották ezt meg. Életem első virágját ott kaptam, az unokabátyámtól mint férfitól, és nagy örömöt okozott. Egy szép hortenziát. Szóval egy tizennégy éves lánynak nagy élmény volt a bát micvá. Tulajdonképpen ezt csak a neológok csinálták és csinálják. Az ortodoxia ma sem ismeri el. Az öcsém bár micvójára sajnos nem került sor.

Négy középiskola a legmagasabb végzettségem [Azaz négy évet végzett el az akkor nyolcosztályos gimnáziumból. – A szerk.]. A gimnáziumot szerettem. Leánygimnázium volt, Árpádházi Boldog Margit Leánygimnázium volt a neve – ma Teleki Blanka név alatt üzemel Székesfehérváron. Itt a tanáraim egyértelműen keresztények voltak, a hittanárt kivéve. Jó tanáraim voltak. Tulajdonképpen nem éreztem megkülönböztetést [mint zsidó], jól elfogadtak. A hittanár a helyi rabbi volt, aki hittanórát tartott. Azt hatodik órában kaptunk heti egy alkalommal. És szombat délután kötelező volt a zsinagógába járás. Kedvenc tantárgyam volt a német, amíg a nyelvtani résszel nem gyötörtek meg. De szerettem, mert szakos osztály voltunk, heti öt alkalommal volt németóra. Nekem az játék volt, mert szépen tudtam beszélni, amit most, felnőttkoromban is nagyon jól tudtam hasznosítani.

Az órák után tanulni kellett. Délután kellett tanulni a másnapira. Nem volt időm egyéb dolgokra, annyi volt az anyag. Alapossággal tanítottak. Gyakorlatilag hat órát voltunk iskolában, tehát azt jelentette, hogy minden nap nyolctól egyig-kettőig. Két órakor hazamentem, ebéd, kipakolás, bepakolás, kész volt a nap. Magánórákra nem jártam. Tulajdonképpen nem voltam zeneileg tehetséges. A kötelező énekórán részt vettem, ha jól emlékszem, a kórusban is bent voltam, de nem voltam egy tehetség zeneileg. Azt pótoltam, amikor a lánykámmal jártam vasárnapi koncertekre. Itt pótoltam a hiányosságomat.

Mint diák Székesfehérváron családoknál voltam elhelyezve. Ez nem kimondott albérlet volt, mert családnál éltem. Családtagként kezeltek. Megkaptam a reggelimet, ha otthon voltam, az ebédet és a vacsorát. A szüleim ez után fizettek. A téli hónapokban bent laktam, három vagy négy hónapot teljes jelleggel ott éltem, a többi hetekben, tehát iskolakezdés elején és végén, a jobb időjárású hónapokban bejártam. De pénteken akkor is bent aludtam, mert szombaton nem engedtek a szüleim utazni [lásd: szombati munkavégzés tilalma]. Péntek reggel eljöttem otthonról, és szombat este mentem haza. És akkor ezen a helyen laktam, és ugyanúgy otthon éreztem magam, mint azokban a hónapokban, amikor teljes mértékben náluk laktam. Intellektuel családoknál laktam. Például Györgyi Oszkáréknál laktam, aki francia műfordító és franciaszakos tanár volt. Ott sokat tanultam. Hozzájuk úgy kerültem, hogy közismert volt, hogy ők fogadnak egy vagy két vagy három diákot, mert a tanári jövedelem nem volt annyira jó. Vettek oda két vagy három diákot, abból a háztartást tudták fedezni.

A rokonokkal jó volt a kapcsolat. Székesfehérváron a diákéveim alatt a szombati nap mindig a családlátogatás napja volt. Szombat délután, amikor úgymond szabad voltam, látogattam a rokonságomat. Nagyon sok rokonom volt. Sajnos mindenki elpusztult. Volt férfiszabó család három, volt virágüzletes, és volt nyugdíjas két-három idősebb nagyszülő.

Az iskolás éveim tulajdonképpen kettétörtek. Hóman Bálint kultuszminiszter úr alapított egy nagyon ésszerű és nagyon okos iskolát, ennek a fő feladata az volt, hogy háztartási, gazdasági szakismeretekkel lássa el a fiatal lányokat. Ez egy lányiskola volt. Kecskeméten és Putnokon voltak még ilyen iskolák, és Székesfehérváron alapították a harmadikat [A putnoki „M. kir. Háztartási Iskola” 1913-ban nyitotta meg kapuit. Előzménye a gr. Serényi Béla földművelési miniszter nevéhez fűződő, 1911-ben létesített állami Kertgazdasági Tanszék volt, amely a környék gyümölcs- és zöldségtermesztésének föllendítését tűzte ki céljául (a kerttulajdonosok képzésén kívül az önálló gazdasági népiskola tanulóit, valamint a polgárit végzett fiatalokat is bevonták a kertészeti és zöldségtermesztési ismeretek elsajátításába). 1912 nyarán pedig egy háztartási és gyümölcsfeldolgozási tanfolyamot létesítettek a putnoki állami elemi népiskola napközi otthonában 24 résztvevővel. Az újonnan létesített Háztartási Iskola a hat elemire épült, a tanulmányi idő pedig egy év volt. Az iskola a tanulókat a valláserkölcsi és hazafias nevelésen kívül gazdasági, kertészeti és háztartási képzésben kívánta részesíteni (Rendek Magdolna: Gazdasszonyképzés az alsó fokú mezőgazdasági szakképzésben, „Új Pedagógiai Szemle”, 1998/7–8). – A szerk.]. A négy gimnázium után mentem ide. Olyan tizenhatan-húszan voltunk egy osztályban. Nem tudom, hogy kellett-e fizetni érte, mert minden ilyesmit a szüleim intéztek. Nagyon jó iskola volt. Megtanultunk főzni, varrni, gazdálkodni, tehenet fejni kézzel, gyors- és gépírni. Mindehhez megvolt a gyakorlati föltétel. Vagyis a főzéshez voltak nagyüzemi konyhák, az egy héten háromszor volt. Volt kerti gazdálkodás, volt kertünk az iskola mellett. Oda minden héten háromszor délután mentünk ki. A közbeeső időkben adták az elméleti oktatást. Volt magyar irodalom, matematika, a gépírás mellé gyorsírás. Ezek voltak a tantárgyak. A háztartási szakismeretekből volt elméleti oktatás, például ha sütök egy piskótát, hogyan történik annak a lazítása. Vagy hogy a rántáskészítés mit jelent. Úgyhogy nagyon okos iskola volt [lásd: gazdasági középiskola]. Tulajdonképpen érettségivel egyenlő lett volna, ha nem jön Auschwitz közbe. Mert ez négyévesnek indult, de csak sajnos kettőt csináltam. Együtt jártunk Láncz Zsuzsával. Őt a középiskolából ismertem, [székes]fehérvári volt, ő is visszajött Auschwitzból.

Az öcsém, Gyurika Szekszárdon végezte a gimnáziumot, mert Székesfehérváron nem vették fel. Mert Székesfehérváron nem vehettek föl több zsidót [„1939 őszétől kezdve … miniszteri rendelettel bevezették az osztályonkénti 6 százalékos kvótarendszert az újonnan beiratkozó zsidó tanulókra vonatkozólag. Ettől függetlenül is, s ezt megelőzőleg a keresztény egyházak (különösen a többségi katolikus egyház) felügyelete alatt működő középiskolák kapui fokozatosan bezárultak a zsidó jelentkezők elől. Az egyetemi numerus clausus, amely 1938-as megszorítása után helyileg egyre inkább numerus nullus lett, … sok érintett gimnazistát elbátortalaníthatott hosszabb középiskolai tanulmányok folytatásától. Magukban az iskolákban is felerősödött a zsidó diákok elleni diszkrimináció” (Karády Viktor: Felekezetsajátos középiskolázási esélyek és a zsidó túliskolázás mérlege, in Zsidóság és társadalmi egyenlőtlenségek /1867–1945/, Replika Kör, Budapest, 2000, 234. oldal). – A szerk.], és anyukám kénytelen volt máshová íratni. Szekszárdon volt ismerős, oda fölvették. Privát helyen lakott, és gimnáziumba járt. Az első négy gimnáziumot járta ki, a negyediket hagyta abba.

A zsidótörvények [lásd: zsidótörvények Magyarországon] szele 1943-ban csapta meg a családunkat. Édesapámnak a gazdálkodása meglehetősen rossz anyagi helyzetet produkált. A papám tartott cselédeket is a földjei megműveléséhez [lásd: uradalmi cselédség]. Akkor így nevezték a mezőgazdasági segédmunkásokat. 1943-ban már ez komplikált volt, és tulajdonképpen, azt hiszem, volt egy ilyen rendelet, hogy nem is tarthatott zsidó keresztény alkalmazottakat [A rendeletet csak 1944. április elején bocsátották ki. – A szerk.]. Így kényszerült arra, hogy elhelyezkedjen egy másik földbirtoknál, ahová őt alkalmazták mint gazdaságirányító intézőt [lásd: birtokkezelés]. Bolváry Géza filmrendezőnek a felesége, báró Mattyasovszky Ilona a vagyonából Abán vett birtokot, és erre a birtokra bízta meg édesapámat, hogy lássa el a feladatokat [Bolváry Géza (1897–1961) – filmrendező, a Star filmgyár dramaturgja, utóbb rendezője lett. Felesége Mattyasovszky Fraknói Ilona (1892–1943) filmszínésznő (a Tanácsköztársaság idején a filmdirektórium tagja volt). A háború után egy ideig filmiskolát tartottak fenn Budapesten, majd 1926-ban Bécsbe, Berlinbe, később Münchenbe költöztek. Bolváry számos nagysikerű filmet rendezett. – A szerk.]. Volt mellette egy jószágigazgató, Hegymegi Kis Lajos, aki felelős volt mindenért, és a papám annak volt a beosztottja. Amit a papám nagyon nehezen is tolerált. Mert ő, aki a sajátjában élt, most másnak a földjén, más urat kellett szolgálnia. De mindez azért volt, mert a tulajdonos zsidót nem alkalmazhatott, és így volt álcázva, hogy a papám vitte az ő nagybirtokának az összes gondjait. Ezt ő gyönyörűen csinálta, mert édesapám igazi jó szakember volt. Ezt a feladatot látta el 1942-től 1943 végéig. A jószágigazgató a papámat megtűrte egy darabig, végül 1944 elején mondtak föl neki, hogy zsidót már nem alkalmazhatnak. Talán azért nem éreztük mi a zsidótörvényeket annyira, mert a papámnak szabad foglalkozása volt, mert az intézőség mellett ellátta a saját birtokát. Azaz anyuka csinálta a saját birtokot, és csak ott kapcsolódott be a papám, ahol szükség volt, vagy ahogy az ideje megengedte.

A nagybátyáim addig üzemeltették a vaskereskedést, amíg a németek bejövetele után [lásd: Magyarország német megszállása] összefogták a zsidó férfiakat, és munkaszolgálatra elvitték [Munkaszolgálatra már 1941-től vitték a férfiakat, Magyarország német megszállása után nem sokkal a deportálások kezdődtek meg. – A szerk.]. Az üzletet akkor kellett bezárni, mert az asszonyok nem tudták volna egyedül folytatni [A zsidó vállalkozások életét már az 1939-ben meghozott második zsidótörvény is megnehezítette, 1944. április 16-án azonban elrendelték a zsidó vagyonok zár alá vételét (egy zsidó mindössze 3000 pengő készpénzt tarthatott magánál), április 21-én pedig bezáratták a zsidó kereskedéseket. – A szerk.]. Az egyébként is egy átmeneti idő volt, mert aztán körülbelül két hónap után mindannyiunkat elvittek, úgyhogy mint olyan megszűntünk létezni.

A szüleink sem meséltek soha ezekről a dolgokról. Akkor az a szójáték ment, hogy a gyerek előtt nem beszélünk. A gyerek nem tudott semmiről. Én akkor gyereknek számítottam, az öcsém pláne. A rettenetes feszültséget éreztük, főleg amikor már a vagonokban vitték a zsidókat a németek bejövetele után. Akkor a szüleim már nagyon feszültek voltak. És szegény mamámat különösen megviselte, mert akkor tudta már, hogy a fivéreiből vittek el. Tulajdonképpen az 1943–44-es év már nagyon kegyetlen volt, és minden család életére rányomta a bélyegét. Akárhogy szeretném megszépíteni, nem tudom. Gyurika tizennégy éves volt, a tanulmányait megszakítva, sürgősen haza kellett jönnie. Az auschwitzi deportálás nagyon hirtelen jött, úgyszólván sokkhatásként. És úgy láttam, a szüleimre is, mert ők se voltak tájékozottak. Ők nem hitték, nem gondolták, hogy ővelük ez bekövetkezhet. Utolsó pillanatig hitték, hogy maradhatunk a házunkban, maradhatunk az otthonunkban.

A sokkhatás 1944. március tizenkilencedikén ért minket, amikor a németek bevonultak Magyarországra. A falunkba is bejöttek. Az félelmetes volt. Utána már az események egymás után peregtek, és 1944. áprilisban el kellett hagynunk a családi házunkat. Annyi engedményt kapott édesapám, hogy felrakhatta a családját a kocsijába, és ő hajtott ki a faluból. Mikor hajtott ki a faluból, ahogy visszaemlékszem, egy része az embereknek nevetett, egy része sírt. Hogy ki mennyire sírt, és ki mennyire örült ennek a dolognak, ezt ma már nem tudnám elmondani. Már részben nem is élnek azok az emberek, és nehéz volna ezt a rettenetes, nyomasztó hatást visszaidézni. Félelmetes volt az egész. Ennél rémesebb, ennél nyomasztóbb, ennél elképzelhetetlenebb valamit, hogy egy életen keresztül megkeresett vagyont vagy otthont három óra alatt vagy három nap alatt el kell hagyni, erre nem is tudom, hogy a történelem még hány esetet tud felidézni, de én, ahogy gyerekként visszaemlékszem, rettenetes volt. Hihetetlen gyorsasággal ütött be az egész! Mert előtte semmi atrocitás nem volt a faluban, békében, békésen éltek egymás mellett az emberek. Tudták rólunk, hogy zsidók vagyunk, tudták azt, hogy ami feladatuk van, azt becsülettel végezték. Nagyon szorgalmas emberek voltak a szüleim. Azért is kapták meg ezt a lehetőséget, hogy menjen akkor a sajátján, ne valami más szekéren vagy gyalog menjen át Seregélyesre, a gettóba.

Szóval Seregélyesre voltunk áthelyezve. A családi házunkat a Csörgő Sándor nevű adóügyi jegyző foglalta el, aki nagyon rendesen leltárt hagyott. Mi kaptunk Seregélyesen egy szoba-konyhás, földpadlós lakást négyen. A mamám teljes idegkiborulást kapott sajnos, és erre föl édesapám másnap reggel elment a Zsidó Tanácshoz, és kért egy másik lakást. Kaptunk is, beköltöztettek bennünket egy valamivel kulturáltabb kövezett konyhába, amit kaptunk mi négyen. És másik tizenkét emberrel laktunk együtt egy lakásban. Az egy szörnyű időszak volt. Nem zárt területen voltunk. Egymás melletti házakban voltak az emberek elhelyezve, a mozgás szabadon történhetett, de nem volt hova menni. Körülbelül harminc ház volt egymás közelségében. Mindannyian állandó csendőri felügyelet mellett voltunk. Atrocitásokról nem tudok.

Körülbelül június elejéig voltunk ott, akkor vittek Székesfehérvárra, a téglagyárba. Ahol a téglát szárították, oda voltunk behelyezve. Nem csak az összes székesfehérváriak voltak ott, hanem mivel Székesfehérvár járási központ volt, az összes zsidóságot odaterelték a környékről. Dolgozni nem kellett. Állandó fenyegetésben voltunk, emberi életet már ott nem éltünk. Földön fekve aludtunk és ettünk, rendszeres kihallgatásokban vettünk részt. Ott tíz napot voltunk, és a téglagyárból vagoníroztak bennünket Auschwitzba.

A vagonírozás is együtt történt a család többi tagjával. Június tizennegyedikén vagoníroztak bennünket be. Marhavagonokban voltunk elhelyezve, nyolcvan-kilencven személy. Kiket hogyan tudtak bezsúfolni. A bébitől az aggastyánig mindenki együtt volt a vagonokban. Három napig tologattak bennünket. Tulajdonképpen a velünk hozott élelmen és vízen éltünk, és egy közös vödörre jártunk. Se kiszállni, se leszállni, se kimenni nem lehetett. Egy pici kis ablak volt összesen. A csendőrök jöttek minden órában, hogy aki még nem adta le a pénzét meg az aranyát és ékszereit, az most még leadhatja büntetés nélkül, úgyse lesz rá szükségünk. És hasonló szövegekkel szórakoztattak bennünket.

Mamámnál volt még egy szappan, amiben volt gyűrű és valamilyen ékszer. Azt még hozta magával, és valahol az úton aztán kidobta a szappant. Ha nem találták meg útközben a dolgokat, akkor elvittük Auschwitzba, és ott tettük ki. De nem igazán volt nálunk semmi. Egy váltás fehérneműt és élelmiszert vittünk magunkkal, semmi mást. Teljesen mindegy volt, hogy ki meddig tudta menteni a dolgait, végül is az enyészeté lett. Egy kislány, akivel felszabadultunk, a szájában mentett át két briliánsgyűrűt. Hát aztán mit ért, vagy milyen állapotban volt, nem tudom.

1944. június tizenhetedikén érkeztünk meg Auschwitzba, és édesapámat még munkára osztották be, de 1944 októberében, Mühldorfban meghalt. Úgy kaptuk a holttá nyilvánítási igazolást, hogy Mühldorfban halt meg. Tehát körülbelül egy fél évet bírta. Nehéz kőbányában dolgozott. Ott munkaszolgálat volt tulajdonképpen, de mind a négyen egy vagonban mentünk ki, és ott választottak el bennünket, minden elköszönés nélkül osztottak el bennünket. Az öcsémet egyből bal oldalra vitték [Azaz elgázosították. – A szerk.].

Háromnapi vagonban való utazás után fellélegezve vártuk, hogy egy kicsit jobb sorsot kapunk. Sajnos nem így következett be, mert az utunk után még rosszabb helyzetbe kerültünk. Auschwitzban pillanatok alatt elválasztottak a családtól, merthogy menjünk-menjünk gyorsan! Miért kellett sietni, azt nem tudom máig se. De a nagy kutyák ott álltak, és kiabálták, hogy „Los, Los!”. Beszéltem németül, de ezt a szót sose ismertem. És kerültünk-fordultunk, még egy puszit sem tudtunk egymásnak adni, se a papámnak, se az öcsémnek, mert elirányították őket. A mamámmal azért maradtunk együtt, mert fogtuk egymás kezét. És együtt kerültünk be egy nagy barakknak az egyik termébe, ahová betereltek bennünket. Ahol álltunk, ott le kellett vetkőznie mindenkinek teljesen meztelenre. Onnan bevittek bennünket egy másik terembe, az úgy nézett ki, mint egy elemi iskolai tornaterem. Kis padokkal, ahová le kellett ülnünk sorba, már nőknek, mert ott már csak nők voltunk, fiatalok, öregek, mindenféle korosztály együtt. A korosztály, mondjuk, velem kezdődött, tizenhat-tizennyolc évesek, és úgy hetvenéves korig. Mert az idősebbeket és a fiatalabbakat mindjárt bal oldalra tették. Tehát amikor ott mentünk a Mengele előtt, mintegy kettős taktusra irányítottak, a bal oldalra és a jobb oldalra menő embereket. Nekem azt mondta, hogy „Du hast schöne dicke Füsse” [’Szép erős lábaid vannak’ (német). – A szerk.]. Jó leszek! Így mentem a mamámmal.

És akkor bekerültünk ebbe a tornateremszerű helyiségbe, ahol már a  [1942 tavaszán érkeztek meg Auschwitzba az első zsidó nők, 16–30 év közötti lányok és asszonyok Kelet-Szlovákiából. – A szerk.] nők vártak és nyírtak bennünket. Hónaljat, mindenhol, ahol szőrzetünk volt. És a hajunkat természetesen kopaszra nullásgéppel. Nagyon szépek voltunk, mondanom sem kell! Innen vittek bennünket az úgymond fürdőbe. A fürdő kétféle volt, volt, amikor gáz ömlött az emberekre, volt, amikor úgymond tisztasági fürdő [Más-más helyiségről volt szó, és a gázkamrákban csak álcázás volt a zuhanyfej. – A szerk.]. És természetesen, ahol levetkőztünk, a ruháink ott maradtak. Bekerültünk egy másik helyiségbe, ott kiutaltak nekünk másik ruhát. Nem egyenruha volt, hanem amit elvettek mástól. A ruhák háta egy csíkkal volt megjelölve, hogy foglyok vagyunk. Aztán már utána hogyan kerültünk a barakkokba, arról fogalmam nincs. De bekerültünk egy olyan barakkba, ahol se ágy, se egy pléd, se egy rongy, semmi, hanem a földön fekve töltöttük az éjszakát. Mert ez a láger volt a vernichtungslager [’megsemmisítő tábor’ (német)], és semmi kényelmi dolog nem volt. Latrina volt. Kint volt a barakktól körülbelül kétszáz méterre, a mezőn egy csővezetéken folyó víz – természetesen csak hideg –, ahol lehetett mosakodni. De reggel már augusztusban deres volt a határ. Hajnalban, kábé öt órakor kiugrasztottak bennünket a zahlappellra [’létszámolvasás’ (német)], vagyis megszámoltak bennünket. Ez volt a neve, ez egy német szó. Általában ez a hajnali öttől való kinn állás délelőtt tíz-tizenegyig eltartott. Majdnem összeestünk. Hajnalban hűvös volt, utána meg rekkenő hőség. Szóval ez volt a napi program. Este ugyanúgy ezt csinálták. Enni alig adtak. Reggel kaptuk a feketekávét, ami már brómmal volt ízesítve, mert különben megmartuk volna egymást. Ez nyugtató hatású, és a nők nem menstruáltak attól kezdve, mert a bróm mindenkit elvágott. Elfelejtettük, hogy nők vagyunk, mert a bróm tulajdonképpen elvágja [Nyugtató adagolására (brómozásra) semmilyen konkrét bizonyíték nincs, bár nagyon sokan, különböző helyekről állították, hogy brómozták a foglyokat. De valószínű, hogy nem is volt szükség a brómra: a kevés ennivaló, a verés, a hideg vagy éppen a forróság, a kevés alvás, a szörnyű munka stb. nagyon gyorsan kiszívta a foglyok erejét, megtörte az ellenállásukat. – A szerk.]. És adtak hozzá egy szelet kenyeret is, azt hiszem. Délben jött a mischgemüse, főtt zöldségek. Ez azt jelentette, hogy öten voltunk egy sorban, leültünk törökülésbe, egy lábasba megkaptuk a gemüsét, és mindenki evett belőle egymás után. Három-négy kortynál többet nem tudott enni senki, akármilyen éhes volt. Amikor az utolsó is befejezte, akkor visszaadtuk az elsőnek. És így ment addig, ameddig vagy el nem fogyott, vagy mert úgy érezték, hogy elég. Ez volt a főétkezés. Este kaptunk vagy kvarglit, vagy egy szelet kenyeret. A kvargli büdös sajt, azt adták csomagolva. És a rettenetes fekete kenyér, komiszkenyér, mint amit a katonáknak adtak.

Ezek után a véget nem érő hetek után, szeptemberben, valamikor az őszi ünnepek környékén kerültünk újabb sorozásra, amikor is kétszáz embert elvittek Salzwedelbe. Egy kis katonai bázis volt, ha jól tudom. Egy muníciógyárban dolgoztunk, két műszakban, tizenkét órában. Patronokat vizsgáltunk be, hogy a súlyhatára megvan-e, és a patronokat csomagoltuk, kiszereltük, tehát dobozoltuk. Egy dobozban huszonnégy darab volt, majd a dobozt beletettük egy nagyobba, amibe tizenkét ilyen kisebb doboz fért. Így szállították a rendeltetési helyükre. Szerencsénkre nagyon rendesek voltak az ottani gyári alkalmazottak. Volt, akinek megesett ott a szíve rajtunk, és megkínált egy-egy szendviccsel.

1945. április másodikán szabadultunk fel, vagyis a németek akkor már elfutamodtak onnan, és jöttek az amerikaiak, akik adták nekünk a szabadságot. A kerítések nyitva álltak. Mi kint rekedtünk a tábor falain. Anyám sírógörcsöt kapott a félelemtől, hogy hogyan is lesz tovább, mire mondtam én, hogy ezt vártuk tíz hónapon át. Mindenki éhes volt. Az amerikaiak mindent kinyitottak. Megrohantuk az élelmiszerraktárakat; több embernek ez lett a végzete: hirtelen sokat és nehezeket ettek. Az amerikaiak próbálták normalizálni az életünket.

Innen kerültem át Bergen-Belsenbe, mert ott volt helyük az amerikaiaknak, ott tudtak elszállásolni bennünket. Itt volt valami katonai laktanya, ilyen kőépületek. És miután a katonaság feloszlott és elmenekült, üresen maradt a laktanya, és jó volt erre a célra, hogy a felszabadítottakat elszállásolják. Azt követően egy rövid időre angol fennhatóság alá kerültünk. Majd egy abszolút rövid időre az oroszokhoz, és az angolok adták az elbocsátást. Egy certifikátom van, amivel Bergen-Belsenből tudtunk hazaindulni. 1945. október hetedikéről szól az elbocsátásom Bergen-Belsenben; anyukámé is. Én az édesanyámmal végig együtt voltam, Auschwitzban is, Bergen-Belsenben is, és együtt jöttünk haza, amiről van egy Degob-igazolás [Degob = Magyarországi Zsidó Deportáltakat Gondozó Országos Bizottság]. 1945 októberében kerültem vissza Budapestre. Vonatra tettek bennünket, vonaton szállítottak, és Prágán keresztül jöttünk el Bergen-Belsenből. Beletartott három napot, mert mindig meg kellett várni, amíg a vagont átcsatolják. Nem egyéni jeggyel jöttünk. Csoportosan, mert több százan jöttünk. Azt hiszem, a cseheket, lengyeleket, jugoszlávokat, magyarokat összesöpörték egy vagonba. Akkor már oroszok voltak mindenhol. Csehországban megszállás, akkor Lengyelország, Magyarország, orosz fennhatóság alatt voltunk. És akkor kaptunk, azt hiszem, ezerötszáz adópengőt, amiért lehet, hogy reggel még kaptál egy kiló kenyeret, de délután már nem [Adópengőt akkor még nem kaphattak, mert azt csak később vezették be. Lásd még: millpengős korszak. – A szerk.]. Borzasztó gyorsan inflálódott.

A család többi tagjairól nem tudtunk semmit. A szülők testvéreiről sem tudtunk semmit egészen a hazajövetelünkig. Nem volt postaforgalom, nem volt információ, semmi. Anyukámnak mind az öt testvére, plusz a családok kinn maradtak, mindenki elveszett. Sándor Auschwitzban maradt. Tulajdonképpen a férfiakat nem a családdal deportálták, hanem internálva vitték Auschwitzba. Március tizenkilencedikén, mikor a németek bevonultak, az azt követő héten összeszedték a mozgásképes férfiakat, és összegyűjtve vitték ki őket átmeneti táborokba [1944. március 19. után az ún. „egyedi akciók” keretében letartóztatott zsidókat internálták, a budapestieket és környékbelieket – számuk 1500–2000 fő között mozgott – Kistarcsára. Innen indították útnak április 28-án az első transzportot Auschwitzba (1800 „zsidó munkásból” álló transzport, Hitler és Horthy megállapodása alapján, amelyben Magyarország kötelezte magát, hogy egy repülőgépgyár létesítése céljából munkaerőt biztosít a németeknek). Elképzelhető, hogy Dóczi Sándorné családjának férfi tagjai vagy egy részük így került koncentrációs táborba. – A szerk.]. Mindenki Auschwitzban maradt. Egy nagynéném jött vissza, a Bella. Krausz Dezsőné, Bella. A lánya volt Vera, aki szegénykém nem jött vissza. Akkor tizenhárom éves volt, és elvitte a skarlát. A Bella meg a háború után meghalt, 1948-ban. Szegény Bella, nem akart élni, mert a gyereke a szemefénye volt. És az meghalt. A férje nem jött vissza a munkaszolgálatból. Szóval az anyukám testvérei nagyon megszenvedték. Egy nőtlen testvére volt még, az Aladár, ő Ukrajnából [munkaszolgálatból] visszajött, a másik testvére, a Viktor Izraelben él. Tehát anyukámmal együtt hárman maradtak életben. Harminchatan maradtak kinn [Azaz haltak meg. – A szerk.]. Összeszámoltuk.

A Deutsch Jenő egyik lánya az egyetlen unokatestvérem, aki túlélte a háborút, és Magyarországon él. Nincs is más rokonom. Majdnem minden héten találkozunk, meg telefonon beszélünk több ízben. A testvére és az édesanyja mindjárt a bal oldalra került Auschwitzban [Azaz rögtön elgázosították őket. – A szerk.]. Az édesanyjának, Deutsch Jenőnének, Bözsi néninek éltek még a szülei is, a nyolcvanéves szülők, akikkel együtt vitték Auschwitzba őket. Vernichtolták [’megsemmisít’ (német)] őket egyből. Ők is elég vallásosak voltak, mint mi.

Miután megjöttünk 1945 októberében, jelentkeztünk a Degobnál. A Bethlen téren volt, ahol ma az Eötvös Loránd Tudományegyetem Bárczi Gusztáv Gyógypedagógiai Főiskolai Kara van. Akkor egy átmeneti szállás volt, irodák és a hazaérkező deportáltaknak a központja vagy elhelyezési irodája volt. Van is róla papírom. Talán az volt a szerencsém, hogy volt egypár pesti rokonunk, aki még itt megvolt, gondolom én. És a mamámmal együtt abban bizakodtunk, hogy a papám meg az öcsém előkerülnek. De ez hiú ábránd volt! Abszolút hiába volt, és igaziból nagyon nem is tudtunk örülni, hogy hazaértünk, mert azért ugye nem berendezett lakás várt. Gond volt, hogy hol alszunk, hová megyünk. Volt egy nagynéném, aki befogadott.

Még akkor, októberben lementünk vissza Abára, a falunkba. Ott se volt semmi. Ott egy szobát tudtunk kapni azzal a bizonyos előleggel. A családi ház már romos volt, mire hazajöttünk.  A jegyző már korábban ki is költözött. Gyakorlatilag abban a házban lakni nem lehetett. A jegyzőnek tulajdonképpen volt saját lakása vagy háza, csak mi kértük meg, hogy költözzön be a mi házunkba, amíg mi nem leszünk, mert azt hittük, hogy így védett lesz a ház. De sajnos nem segített ez sem. Az ostrom alatt nagyon rossz állapotba került.

Mikor hazamentünk, a mamám kiadta a Ganz Villamosműveknek, akik lakbér fejében felújították. Vagyis nem kellett lakbért fizetniük. Mi pár hónapot a falunkban, albérletben laktunk. Ott laktunk, amíg anyukám próbált megtalálni a régi holmiinkból egyet s mást. Mert hát hiába írattunk a jegyzővel leltárt a dolgainkról, miután elköltözött, széthordták a szomszédok. Volt, ahol az udvaron ki volt téve egy-egy pehelypaplan, ami a miénk volt, azt visszakérte anyukám. Hát azt ember ne lássa, hogy milyen állapotban volt! De azért ő ragaszkodott a dolgokhoz. Vagy például ez a petróleumlámpa-tartó is az ő tulajdona volt, a telefontartó, amin én tartom a telefont, az is az ő darabja volt. És fönt a kis lakásban, amin a komputer van, az is az övé volt. Ezeket ott megtaláltuk, szanaszét, egyik-másik szomszédnál, és akkor természetes, hogy visszaadták. Hát persze, ez a magáé, vigye el!

Senkink és semmink nem maradt meg igazán, tehát ott sok keresnivalónk nem volt. Én ahhoz fiatal voltam, hogy ottrekedjek. Mamám még pár hónapig ott élt az albérleti szobában, míg én előre feljöttem Budapestre, és a cionista mozgalomban próbáltam megkapaszkodni. Ez a mozgalom a Hanoár Hacioni [lásd: Hanoár Hacioni Magyarországon] volt. A célunk az volt, hogy kijussunk Izraelbe. Ez volt a feladata, az erre való felkészítés. Vajmi keveset tudtam a kinti életről, mert tulajdonképpen egy tizenhét-tizennyolc éves lánynak semmi fogalma nem volt a dolgokról, pláne olyan nevelés után, mint ahogy bennünket a háború előtt neveltek. Hát nem is neveltek! Tizenhat évesen vagoníroztak be bennünket! Mit tudtuk mi, hogy mi van! Semmit. És mondjuk, valójában az egy teljesen más világ – a polgári élethez viszonyítva. Akarva-akaratlanul is. Öltözékben, lezserségben, tulajdonképpen én igazán nem is tudom megfogalmazni.

A Jókai utca 26-ban volt az otthonunk. Ez egy nagy lakás volt. A cionista mozgalom bérelte és fizette, de miután átmeneti jelleg volt, olyan nagy befektetést nem csináltak. Tulajdonképpen elég elhanyagolt lakás volt. Nem nagyon örültek a házban, mert mi csak tovább lelaktuk a lakást. Tulajdonképpen olyan volt, mint egy kibuc. Közös háztartáson éltünk. Körülbelül harmincan lehettünk. Mindenkinek megvolt a maga munkája, beosztása. Ki a konyhán dolgozott, ki a takarításért volt felelős, volt, aki mosott. Én is csináltam mindent. Mindenféle fázison átmentünk, attól függően, mikor hol kellett ember. Tizenhét éves voltam akkor. Többségünk csupa ilyen volt. De nagyon jól éreztük magunkat. Boldogok voltunk, megelégedettek voltunk. A fiúk is hasonlóak voltak. A Dózsa György út 108-ban is volt egy lakás, ahol szintén a Hánoár Hácioni fiataljai voltak. Magyarországon akkor is több mozgalom volt [lásd: cionizmus 1945 után Magyarországon].

Mikor visszajöttünk a háborúból, akartam volna Izraelbe menni, de mindig lemaradtam. Nem volt elég biztonságos. A nagybátyám, Viktor, aki Haifán élt 1937 óta, egyre óva intett, hogy illegálisan elinduljunk. Azt írta a levélben, hogy nem engedheti meg, hogy egyetlen életben maradt húga – az anyám – és annak a gyermeke – én – kitegye magát egy második Auschwitznak. Mert akkor Ciprus még az volt [A Palesztinába illegálisan belépni próbáló zsidók egy részét az angolok Cipruson táborba zárták, és onnan az éves kvótának megfelelően engedtek be embereket Palesztinába. – A szerk.]. Cipruson ugyanolyan lágerélet volt majdnem, mint Auschwitzban, csak vernichtolás [’megsemmisítés’ (német)] nem volt. De nagyon rossz körülmények mellett helyezték el az angolok a kivándorló zsidókat, akiket nem tudott akkor még fogadni Izrael [Akkor még: brit fennhatóság alatt álló Palesztina. – A szerk.], mert az angolok nem engedték be őket. Tehát akkor azért nem mentem, mert nem volt biztonságos, később, Izrael megalakulása után meg már nem akartam. Megvolt a lakásunk, állásom, és anyukám miatt meg végképp rizikós lett volna.

Izrael állam létrejötte nagy dolog volt. Tulajdonképpen a hatmillió zsidó elvesztése adta meg az igazi okot. Óriási ünnepség volt a Köztársaság téren, az Erkel Színházban. Mikrofonok százai voltak fölszerelve, és ameddig a hang elmehetett, ott mindenhol lehetett hallani az ünnepséget. Május kilencedikén volt ez, 1948-ban, ha jól emlékszem a napra [Izrael állama hivatalosan 1948. május 14-én alakult meg, május 9-én (1945-ben) a második világháború fejeződött be hivatalosan Európában. – A szerk.]. Óriási ünnep volt. A programok közül csak a színházban tartott nagygyűlésre emlékszem. Itt beszédek és mozgalmi énekszámok voltak. De én akkor már nem akartam kimenni Izraelbe. De mindenesetre szívszorító dolog volt ezen az ünnepségen részt venni, tudni, hogy van egy saját országunk, ami ad egy hátteret mindenki számára, hogy még egyszer az ne következhessen be, ami bekövetkezett. Ebből a szempontból ez akkor is, azóta is és ma is egy komoly háttér. Később voltam nyaralni Izraelben, 1994-ben és 1999-ben. Társas út volt, a hitközség szervezte. Nagyon szép út volt. Jeruzsálemben laktunk, és onnan kirándulgattunk. Az ország fejlettsége lepett meg. Az eilati kirándulás az egyik felejthetetlen élményem.

Édesanyám 1946 tavaszán jött fel Budapestre. Abán nem maradt semmije és senkije, így ő is Budapesten gondolta újrakezdeni az életet. Én pedig együtt akartam lenni vele, ezért költöztem vele össze. Édesanyámmal körülbelül egy évig voltunk különböző albérletekben, és utána jött ez a Wesselényi utcai lakás, ezt az egyik nagybátyám, édesanyám unokatestvére, doktor Keller József átadta. Ő a gettó idején költözött ide, de innen visszavágyott Budára. Így kerültünk ide. Ez az átadás valóban ingyen volt. Nekünk csak ügyvédi költségre kellett nagyon sok pénzt adni, hogy átírják a lakást. És gyakorlatilag 1946 nyarától lakom ebben a lakásban.

1947 nyarán kiléptem a „kibucból”, mert férjhez mentem Barabás Istvánhoz, szeptemberben. Az első házasságom vallásos volt. A Bethlen téri templomban volt egyházi esküvő [lásd: esküvői szertartás]. Az első házasság mindig sokkal jobban előkészített. Az ember egy életre köti. Megvan az esküvői ruhám is. A cionista mozgalomban találkoztunk először. Ott egy csoportba kerültünk, együtt végeztük a mozgalmi munkát. Barabás zsidó családban született, 1923-ban. A családja összes tagját deportálták, nem maradt életben senki. Barabásnak volt egy testvére, aki 1946-ban elment Izraelbe, és ott élt, katona volt. Az 1980-as években, azt hiszem, a háborúban halt meg [Az interjúalany feltehetően az 1982-es libanoni háborúra gondol. 1982. június 6-án az izraeli hadsereg megszállta Dél-Libanont Izrael nagy-britanniai nagykövete elleni sikertelen merényletre válaszképpen. Ez tovább élezte az 1975 óta dúló libanoni polgárháborút. – A szerk.]. Barabás Pécs mellett, Siklósról származott [Siklós – járásszékhely nagyközség volt Baranya vm.-ben, 1891-ben 5000 magyar és német, 1910-ben 5800, 1920-ban 5500 magyar, német és szerb lakossal (járási szolgabírói hivatal, járásbíróság, adóhivatal, királyi közjegyzőség stb.). – A szerk.], tejipari szakember volt, sajtmester. Érettségije volt. Különböző technikusi vizsgái is voltak. Ebből a házasságból született a lányom.

Szép lassan beleszoktam a polgári életbe. Az első ténykedésem az volt, hogy varrótanuló lettem, és abból levizsgáztam. Abból lett egy segédlevelem, de varrni igaziból nem szerettem. Bár a mamám beíratott egy szabászati tanfolyamra, amit megcsináltam, de igaziból nem tanultam meg. Aztán próbáltam elhelyezkedni valahol. Az Edinger–Vámos és Társa céghez kerültem [Budapest, VIII. József u. 21.] úgy, hogy a férjem nagynénje dolgozott ott, és ő engem oda bevitt gyakornoknak. Így indultam el négyszáz forint gyakornoki fizetéssel. Ez a cég elektrotechnikai műszereket gyártott, illetve laboratóriumi készülékeket. Itt mädchen für alles [’mindenes’ (német)] voltam. Tehát ha kellett, adóhivatalokba jártam, számláztam, anyagbeszerző voltam, postára mentem, postát intéztem, feladtam stb. Kisiparos cég volt, három társtulajdonossal. Volt olyan megrendelése a cégnek, hogy jóvátételi munka. A jóvátétel azt jelentette, hogy jóvátételbe szállították ezeket a laboratóriumi kemencéket, nem ingyen szállították, hanem abba a keretbe ment, amit Magyarországnak Jugoszlávia felé teljesítenie kellett, betudták a nemzetközi egyezmény értelmében. Én nem ismertem a nemzetközi dolgokat, ahhoz én kis pont voltam. Lehettem akkor húsz éves, még talán annyi sem voltam. Főleg Jugoszláviába szállították le ezeket. Többre nem emlékszem. Ennélfogva három helyre kellett adóigazolásért menni, hogy nincs adótartozás, hogy az export után járó összeget, átutalási pénzt, mindent maradék nélkül felvehették, mert nem volt az állam felé tartozása. Az üzemet a nagy államosítások idején, 1949-ben államosították [lásd: államosítás Magyarországon]. Ugyanezt a munkát folytattam az államosítás után. Akkor még jobban kitágult a munkaköröm, de idővel átszerveztek bennünket természetesen. Ezt az üzemrészleget fölszámolták, és beolvasztottak bennünket az Elekthermax nevű céghez, ami elektromos háztartási és ipari készülékek gyára. Kávéfőzőket, pirítóst és ilyen laboratóriumi készülékeket gyártottak. Ugyanaz, mint az Elektrolux körülbelül, csak kisebb. A Béke tér 3-ban volt. Két munkakörben dolgoztam, folyószámla-könyvelést csináltam, és pénztáros voltam. A pénztár nem volt teljes munkaidőben, mert nem volt olyan nagy pénztári forgalom, csak két-három órai munkát adott, és így kerültem besorolásra.

A kislányom 1949-ben, szeptember tizedikén született, Budapesten. Három hónapig itthon voltam gyesen [Akkor még csak tizenkét hét szülési szabadság járt a szülő nőknek, a gyest majd csak 1967-ben vezették be. – A szerk.]. Nem vettek föl helyettem senkit, és három hónap után visszamentem dolgozni. A lányom még itthon volt pár hónapig az édesanyámmal, de mikor az édesanyám is időszakosan dolgozott a vásárban, akkor el kellett őt vinnem a bölcsibe. A kislányomat a Béke téri tanácsi óvodába vittem minden reggel.

Ez a munkahelyem végigkísért, majd az Elekthermaxot is átprofilírozták, és az egyik részlegét, az irodagép-technikát az Irodagépipari Vállalathoz csatolták. Így kerültem a Rózsa utcába, az irodagéprészlegbe, és ott mint diszpécser dolgoztam. Szaladt az idő.

1951-ben váltunk el, négyévi házasság után,  két éves volt a kislányom. Eltelt nyolc év, amíg egyedül éltem. A Barabás István megnősült, és a feleségével útlevéllel kivándoroltak Izraelbe [1957-ben, amint ezt a huzdo020.jpg számú, a Pénzintézeti Központban letétbe helyezett Első Békekölcsön kötvényekről készült elismervény másolata mutatja. – A szerk.]. Egyszer találkoztam még vele, 1965-ben, Budapesten, amikor Izraelből hazalátogatott. A lányom találkozott vele 1981-ben, amikor Izraelben járt, és ott felkereste az édesapját. Attól kezdve volt egyfajta intenzívebb kapcsolat közöttük. 1986-ban Barabás Magyarországra jött látogatóba, turistának. A feleségének itt voltak rokonai, és azokat jöttek meglátogatni. Itt hirtelen rosszul lett, beteg lett. Különrepülővel szállították Bécsen át vissza, Izraelbe, és ott rövid idő után meghalt. 1986-ban halt meg.

Én itt maradtam, mert a mamámat nem akartam egyedül hagyni. Ez volt a fő oka, hogy nem mentem ki Izraelbe. Idősnek találtam ahhoz, hogy ötven-valamennyi éves korában új életet kezdjen. Így ragadtam itt.

Tulajdonképpen antiszemitizmust negyven évig nyíltan nem lehetett észrevenni vagy érezni. Nem is lehetett sem hangoztatni, sem tapasztalni igaziból. Talán szerencsés csillagzat alatt voltam, hogy olyan körökben mozogtam, hogy ezt én nem éreztem. A munkahelyemen nem piszkáltak ilyesmivel. Egyetlen talán, amit tudok mondani, ami meglepő és furcsa volt. Volt egy párttitkár, aki mindenáron engem a műhelyből ki akart emelni, hogy a személyzeti osztályra vigyen [lásd ehhez: személyzetis], és én nem akartam odamenni. Én mondtam, hogy én szeretem az üzemi életet, és én itt szeretnék maradni. És ő ezt nagyon nehezményezte. Nagyon furcsállotta azt is, hogy lehet elválni valakinek a férjétől. Ezt állandóan a szememre vetette. Mondtam neki, nézze, ezt kár nekem az én szememre vetni, nem én váltam el, engem hagytak ott, és kénytelen voltam beleegyezni. De ő annyira konzervatív gondolkodású ember volt, hogy párttitkár létére ezt nem tudta földolgozni.

Vallásos zsidó családból származom, amelynek próbáltunk hű követői lenni, amennyiben ezt a körülmények megengedték, de az 1950-es évek ezt abszolút nem tudta megengedni. Kisjövedelmű emberek részére úgyszólván lehetetlen volt. Főleg a kóserságot tartani. A vallásosságot és a kóserságot nem tudom, hol lehet kettéválasztani. De mi, akik a mamámmal Auschwitzot megjártuk, ezt kicsikét elhanyagoltuk. A kóserság elmaradt, arra nem volt meg a megfelelő anyagi háttér. De tulajdonképpen túltettük magunkat rajta. A nagyünnepeket tudtuk tartani. Nagyon ritkán jártunk zsinagógába. Féltünk. Tulajdonképpen ez az időszak nem engedte meg. A vallásossággal tulajdonképpen nem is foglalkoztunk. Nem is vettem ki szabadságot nagyünnepekkor, de böjtöltem. A mamám ezt mindig nehezen értette meg. Pénteken volt, hogy a mamám gyújtott gyertyát [lásd: gyertyagyújtás]. A péntek esti vacsorát is próbáltuk a hagyományoknak megfelelően tartani, de az anyagi részét se nagyon tudtuk fedezni. A kóser háztartást egyáltalán nem tudtuk tartani. Tulajdonképpen talán 1970 után enyhültek ezek a dolgok.

Talán egy érdekes esetet tudok mondani. Jöttek az őszi ünnepek, és a mamám természetesen elvárta volna, hogy megtartsam én is. Tulajdonképpen igyekeztem is betartani, de akkor azt nem lehetett megtenni, hogy valaki látványosan nem megy be az üzembe. Feltűnő lett volna, hogy mint egyedülálló, gyereket eltartó családfő nem megyek be. Nem mertem megreszkírozni, hogy nagyböjtkor sem menjek be az üzembe [Dóczi Sándorné nagyböjtön a Jom Kipur-i böjtöt érti, de a nagyböjt kifejezést magát a katolikusok használják. – A szerk.]. Gyalog bementem reggel, és valamilyen jogcímmel a délelőtt folyamán eljöttem az üzemből, és elmentem a mamám mellé a templomba, a Dohány utcába. A nagyböjtkor a halottakért való imánál [lásd: mázkir] már ott voltam. Próbáltam őt megengesztelni, de amíg élt, meg nem bocsátotta nekem, hogy aznap reggel én bementem dolgozni. Hiába mentem gyalog, én minden voltam, de jó kislánya nem voltam. Ez szomorú volt részemre, mert nagy lelki bánatot okozott, hogy ő ezt ennyire nehezményezi. De nekem nem volt más választásom. Ez egy nagyon emlékezetes nap marad a számomra, és sose fogom elfelejteni. Ez a tipikus régi gondolkodásmód, amiből nem tágított. Nem tudta elképzelni, hogy ez sorsdöntő lehet, ha nem mentem volna be ezen a napon az üzembe. Soha nem tudta ezt sem elfogadni, se megérteni, se tudomásul venni.

A munkahelyen sem volt téma. Tulajdonképpen vallási kérdésekről nemigen beszéltünk. Tudtuk egymásról, hogy zsidók vagyunk. Biztos volt egy ilyen szimpátia, ez tulajdonképpen mindig megvan. Bár emberileg nézem mindig az embereket, soha nem vallásilag. Mondjuk, talán a közös sors, a közös probléma is összetartott minket. De ez igaziból fiatal korban nem olyan probléma.

A lányom nem tanult hittant. Azt ő tudta, hogy zsidó, csak semmiféle oktatásban nem részesült, mert nem részesülhetett. Nem volt rá lehetőség akkor. A  háború nem volt téma, nem nagyon beszéltünk az elhunyt rokonokról. Tulajdonképpen egy gyereknek nem hiányzik a nagyszülő. De a lányom gazdag volt, mert volt nagymamája is. Sok gyereknek nem is volt nagymamája. Én tényleg szerencsés voltam, mert gyakorlatilag negyvenöt éves koromig volt mamám, az egy nagy dolog volt akkor, amikor mindenki odaveszett. Arról is tudott a lányom, hogy apja van, akitől elváltam, amikor két éves volt, mert az apukájának láthatási engedélye volt. Különben nem is kaptam volna gyerektartást. Tehát a biológiai papával kéthetenként találkozott. Barabásnak nem voltak meg a szülei, mert ők is meghaltak.

Azt nem tudnám megmondani, hogy az iskolában kikkel barátkozott a lányom. Nem is tudták egymásról a gyerekek, hogy ki a zsidó, és ki nem. Igaziból ez nem volt téma. És mint fiatal gimnazista egyformán járt lányokkal, fiúkkal, nem tudta róluk, hogy zsidó vagy nem zsidó. Eleinte ez nem volt téma, lehet, hogy mire aztán többet olvasott vagy felvilágosultabb lett, akkor megválogathatta a barátait. A tanárok részéről sem volt semmiféle megkülönböztetés. Nagyon kedvesek voltak, a Ságvári Gimnáziumba járt, ahol nagyon jó tanári testület volt. Nagyon jó eredményeket ért el tényleg, jelesre érettségizett. Nem volt semmi ilyen probléma. Az hiszem, összességében boldog gyermekkora volt. Nem hiányzott semmi neki. Az, hogy nem volt banán, és nem volt narancs, nem volt gond, mivel nem is nagyon tudtuk, mi az. Amit nem ismerünk, az nem hiányzik. Az hiányzik, amit ismerünk.

Nem volt könnyű időszak, amikor hárman éltünk a lányommal meg édesanyámmal, férj nélkül. Nem is tudom, hogy bírtam ki, nem is tudom, hogy csináltam. Rengeteget dolgoztam a fő munkahelyemen, és mellette csináltam tanfolyam-ellenőrzést. A KGM, a Kohó- és Gépipari Minisztérium szervezett és rendezett műszeripari technológusképző tanfolyamot. És ezeknek a tanfolyamoknak voltam én a tanfolyamellenőre. Tehát teljes adminisztrációt csináltam, jelenléti ívek, tanári napló, nyilvántartás, és ennek kapcsán le is vizsgáztam műszeripari technológiából. Megragadtam az alkalmat. Annak köszönhetem, hogy végül is mint diszpécser is dolgoztam.

A mamám is, én is nagyon szerényen tudtunk élni, magunk megcsináltunk mindent. Négyszáz forintból megéltünk. Ez tulajdonképpen jónak számított, és nem is négyszáz forint volt, mert kerestem a tanfolyam-ellenőrzéssel is. A fő munkahelyemen fél négyig dolgoztunk, reggel fél héttől, héttől, és akkor négy órakor, amikor kijöttem az üzemből, ötre mentem a Kossuth Gimnáziumba, ott voltak ezek a tanfolyamok. Tanfolyamonként osztályonként két forintot kaptam. Volt négy osztályom, négyszer két, azaz nyolc forint órabérem volt. Nagyon meg voltam fizetve. Ilyenkor ott voltam nyolc óra, fél kilencig, attól függ, hányig volt oktatás. Ott kellett végig lennem, és jártam az osztályokat. Tanárokkal egyeztetni mindent. A mamám elment időszaki kiállításokra, ahol teremőr volt, vagy helypénzszedő volt, tehát ehhez jött mindig pár száz forint plusz, amivel ki tudtuk egészíteni, és megéltünk. Tulajdonképpen megvolt mindenünk.

Otthon anyukám vitte a háztartást, és minden évben két-három alkalommal idényjellegű kiállításon jegyet árusított, és teremőr volt. Ő téesz-járadékos volt, mert a földjeinket elvették, és erre ő kapott téesz-járadékot, havi kétszázhatvan forintot [Tsz-járadékban azok az idős (70 évesnél idősebb férfiak, ill. 65 évesnél idősebb nők), munkaképtelen mezőgazdasági termelőszövetkezeti tagok részesültek, akik koruknál fogva már nem tudták megszerezni a nyugdíjjogosultsághoz szükséges időt. A havi 260 Ft-os öregségi és munkaképtelenségi járadékot a 6/1960. sz. kormányrendelettel vezették be. – A szerk.]. Ez akkor nagy pénz volt. Ezt haláláig kapta, 1969-ig. Három hét alatt egy keringési elégtelenség vittel el. Hetvenhárom éves volt. Amúgy stramm asszony volt, mozgékony, az utolsó pillanatig dolgozott.

A második férjemmel, Dóczi Sándorral 1959. november tizenötödikén házasodtunk össze. Az édesapja Dóczi Dezső volt, a nagypapa Eisner-Dóczi, így került magyarosításra [lásd: névmagyarosítás] Dóczi. Úgyhogy a férjem már ezt a nevet automatikusan kapta. 1920. november huszonharmadikán született, zsidó családban. Volt egy testvére, Dóczi Anti, aki 1922-ben született, két évvel később, mint a férjem. Neológok voltak, Sándor zsidó nevelést kapott. Ők is Pécsett éltek, a szülőkkel együtt. Az édesapja harminckilenc évesen egy perc alatt ment el szívinfarktusban. 1938-ban halt meg. Az édesanyja vitte az építőanyag- és fatelepet tovább, és az ő testvérével együtt csinálta az üzletvezetést, könyvelést. Antit 1944-ben hurcoltak munkaszolgálatra, és ott halt meg. Sándor is munkaszolgálatos volt a háború alatt, de csak a bajai helyszínre emlékszem.

1949-ben Sándor Pécsről Budapestre költözött. A cége, a Baranya Megyei Tüzép Vállalat áthelyezte jogfolytonossággal a Belkereskedelmi Minisztériumba, majd átkerült körülbelül egy év után a Szénsavtermelő Vállalathoz, majd a Szövetkezetek Országos Szövetségéhez. Ez a szövetkezetek központja. A szövetkezeteket fogta össze, a szövetkezeteknek volt a minisztériuma [A SZÖVOSZ (Fogyasztási Szövetkezetek Országos Szövetsége) az általános fogyasztási, értékesítő és beszerző (ún. ÁFÉSZ), a takarék- és lakásszövetkezetek 1948–1991 között működött érdek-képviseleti szerve volt. – A szerk.]. Ott volt áruforgalmi előadó. Letette a különbözeti vizsgát, mert neki kereskedelmi érettségije volt Pécsről [Föltehetően felső kereskedelmi iskolában érettségizett. Lásd: kereskedelmi iskolák. – A szerk.], és itt az Alkotmány utcai Közgazdasági Főiskolát végezte el [lásd: Budapesti Gazdasági Főiskola].

Egész véletlenül ismerkedtünk össze. Volt valami vidéki rendezvény, ahova meghívtak, valami családi rendezvény volt. A mamámnak valami barátnője mondta, hogy ezt a fiút meg kéne nősíteni, és akkor valahogy így jött. Ő harminckilenc éves volt, én voltam harminchárom, mikor megismerkedtünk. A férjemmel nem tarthattunk zsidó esküvőt. 1959-ben nem volt rá mód. Akkor az nem volt szokás annyira. És második házasságnál már valahogy nem is helyeznek erre súlyt. Polgári esküvőnk volt a Teréz körúton [akkor: Lenin körút], a Központi Házasságkötő teremben.

Nagyon szerette a kislányomat, adoptálta mindjárt a házasságunkat követő időszakban. A lányommal nagyon szerették egymást, nagyon jól kijöttek. Minden szépen ment, és a mamám is imádta őt. Így négyen éltünk sokáig együtt. A kislányom lakott a kisszobában, a mamám az egyik szobában, mi meg a másikban. Sőt volt egy nagybátyám, anyukámnak az öccse, Krausz Aladár is. Özvegy lett közben, meghalt a felesége. Sárbogárdról fölköltöztettük, nem hagytuk ott. A lakás nem volt öt személyre való, a nagybátyám sehogy nem fért be, és a szemben lévő házban tudtam egy szobát találni, és a nagybátyám ott aludt, velünk reggelizett, ebédelt, vacsorázott. Csak aludni járt át a szomszédba. Megállapodtunk, és fizettünk, és a nagybátyám nagyon jól érezte magát, úgyhogy meg volt oldva a probléma. Nyugdíjas volt. Itt őneki a vallási élet töltötte be az életét, mert reggel, este eljárt a templomba, és az őt lekötötte. Ő is ide járt, a Dohány utcába [lásd: Dohány utcai zsinagóga]. És délután, napközben, ha volt ideje, vagy hazament a szobájába aludni, vagy idejött hozzánk. Együtt vacsoráztunk mindig. Szombat, vasárnap együtt ebédeltünk. Együtt éltük az életünket, amíg ő beteg nem lett, és bekerült a kórházba. Hetvenöt éves volt, mikor meghalt. A Kozma utcai zsidó temetőben van eltemetve.

Karácsonyfát sosem állítunk, és sosem hiányzott. Nekünk nem igazán jelentett semmit a karácsony. Mi egyértelműen zsidók voltunk. Egy zsidó családban ez nem is vetődik fel. Ott egyértelmű, hogy a karácsony nem a mi ünnepünk. A Hanukát ünnepeltük. Mikor a lányom kicsi volt, meg kellett magyarázni neki, hogy miért nincs nálunk karácsonyfa. Megmagyaráztuk, hogy nekünk a Hanuka van helyette, és mi azt ünnepeljük. Ő szeretett volna mindig fát. Szimbólumként csináltam is neki egy fenyőágat, amire rátettem pár szem szaloncukrot. És akkor ez őt kielégítette. De mondtam neki, hogy anyagilag sem tudok többet nyújtani. És akkor elfogadta. Meg kapott ajándékot. Az ünneplés annyiból állt, hogy meggyújtottuk a hanuka-gyertyát. Ajándékozás tulajdonképpen nem igazán volt. Akkor vajmi keveset tudtunk ajándékozni egymásnak. Örültünk, ha éltünk. Most már azért más. Én is ünnepen föl szoktam hívni a lányomékat telefonon, vagy küldök ajándékot, persze a körülményeknek megfelelően. Nagyon szép családi ünnep. Ugyanúgy ajándékozzuk egymást, mint karácsonykor, gyakorlatilag.

Húsvétkor is a zsidó húsvétot [Pészah] tartottuk. Szóval mi a mamámmal és a férjemmel a Pészahot mindig megtartottuk a magunk módján. Általában közösségbe mentünk széderre, és akkor a lányomat is vittük magunkkal, természetesen. Tulajdonképpen nehéz nyolc napot megtartani kenyér nélkül. De mi tudtuk csinálni. Tojást ettük bőven, mert a mi vallási életünknek is a tojás a szimbóluma [lásd: szédereste], és volt főtt marhahús és a maceszgombóc, szilvakompót és ilyenek. Kenyeret nem ettünk nyolc napig. Azt mindig tartottuk. Maceszt ettünk helyette. Volt hazai gyártású macesz. Volt a tizenharmadik kerületben, a Béke téren, ha nem tévedek, ott volt egy pászkaüzem. A férjem is körülbelül annyira volt vallásos, mint én. Így lett nevelve. Nem voltunk behatárolva, flexibilisek voltunk és maradtunk is.

Az egy érdekes kérdés, hogy a barátságokat vagy rokonokkal való kapcsolattartást milyen mértékben befolyásolta, hogy valaki zsidó származású-e vagy nem. Bizonyára a gondolkodásmód is irányítja mindenkinek az életét. Én legalábbis így látom. Nekem vegyesen vannak barátaim a mai napig is. És még csak azt se mondhatom, hogy az egyiket vagy a másikat a vallás szerint ítélem meg vagy bírálom. Ennek a két dolognak semmi köze egymáshoz. Mert minden vallásban megvan a jó és a rossz. Általánosítani nem lehet. Tulajdonképpen nem a szerint kell mérlegelni valakit, hogy milyen a vallása, hanem milyen ember, milyenek a jellembeli vonásai. Én innen indulok ki legalábbis. Tulajdonképpen érdekes dolog például az is, hogy az ember egy bizonyos kor után az ifjúkori, diákévei barátaival kerül össze. Nekem legalábbis megvannak a székesfehérvári osztálytársnőim. Velük vagyok sokat. A másik a férjem baráti köre, akikkel összejövünk. Azok is semmiféle vallást nem tartanak. Származásilag zsidók, de nem tartanak semmit.

Szabadidőnk nagyon kevés volt a háború utáni években, főleg addig, amíg szombatonként is dolgoztunk. Nem volt szabad szombat, csak vasárnap volt [A munkavállalók ötnapos, heti negyvenórás munkarendjét egy 1981. áprilisi minisztertanácsi határozat írta elő, amit a kéthetenkénti szabad szombat előzött meg néhány éven át. – A szerk.]. És szombaton is nyolctól tizenkettőig dolgoztunk, vagy fél egyig. És kettőre mentem a gyerekért, mert kettőig el kellett hozni a gyereket az óvodából. És akkor ott volt a gyerek, háztartás, lakás rendben tartása, minden. Akkor nem volt segítség, nem volt semmi. Nagy hajtás volt ám! A kislányommal, amikor az általánost csinálta, bizony legtöbb esetben csak vasárnap délután tudtunk a Gellért-hegyre fölmenni, mert nem volt több szabadidő. A legkedvesebb sétáink egyike volt, hogy a Gellért-hegyre mentünk föl, egy kis könnyű séta volt. A 49-es villamos kivitt bennünket, fölmentünk a Gellért-hegyre, és lejöttünk. Az kábé három óra volt. Sokkal nehezebb volt jól gazdálkodni az időnkkel, mint ma. Akkor sokkal több időt kellett a háztartásra fordítani, mert nem volt ennyi konyhakész étel. A mirelit óriási segítség ma a háziasszonynak. Pékáru, sütemény is bővebb választékban van. Az akkori életben ilyen kínálat elképzelhetetlen volt. Citrom nem volt, narancs vagy banán, semmi nem volt. Sárgarépával és ilyesmikkel próbáltuk a vitaminszükségletünket fedezni.

A férjemmel meg színházba nagyon szerettünk járni, koncertre is jártunk. Nagyon szerettük a muzsikát, rendszeresen, egy hónapban kétszer is, ha tehettük, és módunk volt rá, akkor mentünk színházba, koncertre. Kirándultunk is, évenként elmentünk SZOT-üdülésre a gyerekkel együtt [lásd: SZOT-beutaló]. Balatonra, mert a SZÖVOSZ-nak, ahol a férjem dolgozott, volt ott üdülője. Megvolt a lehetőség. Balatonbogláron volt ez, nagyon előnyös kondíciók mellett tudtunk menni. Szóval ez megfizethető volt és elérhető. Ő mint régi dolgozó előnyben részesült, és nagyon kellemes tíz napot vagy két hetet tudtunk eltölteni, attól függően, hogy voltak a turnusok elosztva.

A nagyszüleim sírkövét felhozattam Budapestre. Csodálatos svéd feketegránit sírkövük volt a nagyszüleimnek. Ezen a sírkőn volt még a csodálatos szimbólum, egy ragyogó bronzcsokor, de azt lelopták. Attól féltem, hogy ezt a csodás sírkövet is tönkreteszik ott a vidéki barbárok, és fölszállíttattam. És exhumáltattuk őket, és itt, Pesten nyugszanak, a Kozma utca 6. alatti zsidó temetőben. És egyben így oldottam meg a férjem sírkövét, miután 1996-ban meghalt, és az ő nevét is rávésettem a közös sírkőre.

A lányom 1971-ben ment férjhez. Felvette a férje nevét. Egyházi esküvő is volt. A József körút 27-ben, az udvarban van egy szép zsinagóga [Ez az Országos Rabbiképző Intézet zsinagógája. – A szerk.]. A férje is zsidó. Itt végeztek Budapesten, mind a ketten az Eötvös Loránd Tudományegyetemen. Magyar irodalom szakot végzett a vőfiam, a lányom magyar–orosz–könyvtár szakos diplomával rendelkezik. A lányom tanár volt [egy belvárosi] általános iskolában. Ő mindjárt osztályfőnök lett, és magyar–orosz szakot tanított. Nyolcadikos osztályt kapott mint osztályfőnök, majd azt követően ismét a felsősöket tanította. És utána még dolgozott a Rigó utcában is, ott, ahol az Országos Pedagógiai Intézet volt. Párttagok nem voltak. A Tanács körúton laktak. Az anyós átadta nekik a lakást, mivel ő férjhez ment, és elköltözött. Odaköltöztek a gyerekek. Addig ott is laktak, amíg 1981-ben ki nem mentek tíz hónapra ösztöndíjjal Hollandiába. A lányomék jelenlegi lakhelye Springfield. Ez Washington belvárosától harminc percre van. Amerikában tulajdonképpen mint magyar nyelvtanár szerződéses munkaviszonyban van a lányom. A férje pedig a Washingtoni Holokauszt Múzeumnak a levéltárosa.

Hát ennek nem örültem annyira, de nehéz most már rekonstruálni ezeket a nehéz éveket. Tulajdonképpen a gyerekeim elmenetele nagyon meghatározó pont volt az életemben. Először is ugye a mamám meghalt, 1969-ben. Mikor élhettünk volna jól, kiegyensúlyozottan, akkor ő eltávozott. Akkor tízéves házasok voltak, amikor a lányom kiment. Szóval hullámvölgyként jöttek és mentek az események. Tulajdonképpen minden tíz év valamilyen változást hozott az életünkbe. De ezt a döntésüket, hogy kimentek, én elfogadtam és megértettem, mert én is mindig el akartam menni. Csak a családi körülményeim nem engedték meg. Miután én a férjemmel voltam, itt ketten erősek voltunk, és úgy gondoltuk, hogy felnőttek, harminc évesek, nincs jogunk beleszólni az életükbe, és visszatartani őket.

A kapcsolattartással akkor még nagyon vigyázni kellett, nem volt igazán felhőtlen. De átvészeltük azt az időszakot is. 1982-ben én kint voltam hivatalosan tíz napot. És akkor az azt követő évben, 1983 elején a férjemmel együtt mentünk, látogatólevéllel [lásd: meghívólevél]. 1989–90-ben már könnyebb volt a helyzet. Ők 1992-ben jöttek haza hosszabb időre. Addig nem emlékszem, hogy jöttek volna [Ugyanis disszidensként hagyták el az országot 1981-ben. Lásd: disszidálás. – A szerk.]. Addig mi mentünk gyakorlatilag. Azt hiszem, minden két évben három hónapra. Négy évet dolgozott a vőm az amerikai nagykövet mellett, 1992-től 1996-ig.

A rendszerváltás idején én nyugdíjas voltam, tehát olyan nagy változást máról holnapra tulajdonképpen senkinek sem hozott, mert ez egy elég lassú folyamat. A mostani egyedüllétem nem egyszerű dolog. Akárhogy meg akarom idealizálni, nem tudom. Megidealizálom, mert csinálom, és próbálok talpon maradni, de azért nem könnyű dolog. Úgyhogy talán azért is voltam most nyolcvanegy napot kinn, a lányoméknál. A balesetemből kifolyólag nagyon jó terápia volt az a mindennapos úszás. Most majd megpróbálom tovább folytatni a magam adta lehetőségekkel.

Én annyit tudok mondani a kárpótlásról, hogy nagyon szerteágazó. Amikor a rendelkezés kijött, akkor beadtam az erre vonatkozó dokumentjaimat, igazolásaimat, és elfogadták természetszerűleg, mert tárgyhű volt minden igazolásom, és kapom a negyedévenkénti pénzt a kényszermunkára a Claims [Claims Conference] szervezettől. Egyáltalán nincs arányban a sérelmekkel, de miután ezt ítélték meg, ennek is örülünk. Legalább nem kell koldus módjára leélnem az idős éveimet. Dőzsölni ebből a pénzből nem lehet, de nyomorogni sem kell. A kárpótlási jegy kimondottan vagyoni kárpótlás volt. A szüleim családi háza, a szüleim által hátrahagyott vagyontárgyak után ítélte meg a Kárpótlási Hivatal. Én a kárpótlási jegyet, amit kaptam, beadtam a Nyugdíjintézetnek, és ez egy nyugdíjkiegészítés, amit én kapok.

Most már azért érzem, hogy kezdenek elhomályosodni a dolgok. Úgyhogy tulajdonképpen ezek a kutatási munkák szerintem az utolsó percekben jönnek. Magyar zsidónak vallom magam, és a kortársaimhoz képest átlagos életet élek.
 

Sárdi Fülöpné

Életrajz

Az apám szülei földbérlők voltak. Fleischl Ignác és Strasszer Karolina elég nagy földet béreltek Tiszaszőlősön [Heves vm.-ben lévő nagyközség. – A szerk.]. Volt egy saját, nagy kúriájuk. Elsősorban gabonát termeltek a területeiken. Sok alkalmazottjuk volt, nem ők dolgoztak a földeken. A nagypapa felügyelte a munkát, és kereskedett a gabonával. Hozzá is jöttek, és ő is járt vásárokba. Nem tudok róluk sokkal többet, mert már meghaltak, mire én megszülettem. Hét testvére volt az apámnak, abból hat maradt meg. Egy még kicsi gyerekként meghalt. Rudolf, azt hiszem. A legidősebb testvérét Izsáknak hívták. Tulajdonképpen üzletember volt. Mondhatnám úgy, hogy amit ma brókernek neveznek. Tehát tőzsdézett. Izsónak hívtuk. A felesége Márta, és nekik volt egy fiuk.

A következő Fleischl Laura volt. A férje, a Bruck Károly egy elég nagy léhűtő volt, úgyhogy az asszonynak kellett gondoskodnia a családról. Egy üzletet csinált, savanyúságokat meg zöldséget árultak. Nekik három gyerekük volt, Imre, Andor és Klári.

Aztán jött a Fleischl Lajos, aki Földesre magyarosított a munkája miatt, orvos volt, nőorvos. Két lánya lett. Az ő felesége volt a Janka néni. Lajos bácsi megélte, és ha jól tudom, túl is élte a holokausztot.

Na most volt a Fleischl Dezső bácsi, aki ugyancsak üzletember volt. Felesége volt az Irma néni, és két fiuk volt. Dezső bácsi a Zágon nevet vette föl, az István és az András már ezen a néven éltek. Dezső bácsi a második világháborúban a gettóban volt, utána nem sokkal halt meg.

A Fleischl Szidónia, annak a férje a Gyenes Lajos, és őneki két lánya volt. Az Izsó bácsinak és a Laura néninek volt egy fia, és ő elvette a Gyenes Lajos és a Szidi néni egyik lányát, a Karolinát. Tehát édestestvérek gyerekei házasodtak így össze. A család ezt tudomásul vette. Nem csináltak belőle túl nagy ügyet. Nekik lett két lányuk, az Éva és a Márta, akik nekem másod-unokatestvéreim.

A család nagyon szorosan tartotta a kapcsolatot egymással. Voltak a családi zsúrok, tehát az anyai ágon volt egy nagynéni, aki összetartotta a családot, annak a Városmajorban volt egy gyönyörű villája, óriási kerttel. Azért emlékezetes, mert mint gyerekek oda eljártunk gyakran. Rendszeresen, mindig valaki másnál volt a családi összejövetel úgy pár havonként. Ezek ilyen uzsonnák voltak. Rendszerint kávé, kuglóf volt vagy aprósütemények. A felnőttek beszélgettek, a gyerekek körbeugrálták őket, játszottak. Nálunk, a Kiss János utcában is voltak ilyen zsúrok. Ilyenkor az ötszobás lakásból tulajdonképpen az ebédlő és a szalon volt erre a célra szabaddá téve.

Az apám 1866-ban született Budapesten. Hamar kiderült, hogy van tehetsége a szobrászathoz. A művészeti főiskolát Bécsben végezte el. Szobrász volt, de sohasem dolgozott otthon. Volt a lakásunkhoz közel egy műterme, ahova mindennap elment, és csak ebédre jött haza. Délután már nem nagyon ment vissza. Inkább lement a kávéházba a Lövölde térre, a Cairo kávéházba. Oda járt ő minden áldott nap. Ott olvasott újságot, és ott jött össze a barátaival. Sohasem kártyázott, beszélgetni szeretett. Nem is cigarettázott, csak szivarozott, szivar és pipa. Ez neki, azt hiszem, rendkívül fontos volt. Emlékeim szerint egy napot sem hagyott ki. Fontosabb munkái voltak, hogy dolgozott a Bazilikán, a Parlamenten, az Uránia mozin, a Mezőgazdasági Múzeumon meg ezen az egész városligeti komplexumon, a jáki templomon, ami másolatokból áll tulajdonképpen [Az Alpár Ignác építész vezetése mellett 1896–1902 között felépült ún. Vajdahunyadvár épületkomplexumról van szó, ahol több régi magyar épületrészletet szerkesztettek egybe: a Vajdahunyadvár egyik tornyát, a gyulafehérvári Károly-kaput, a csütörtökhelyi kápolnát és a jáki templom kapubélletét. – A szerk.]. Tehát ő épületszobrász volt. A keresete több mint bizonytalan volt. Nem volt állandó megrendelői köre egy idő után. A gazdasági krízis, az 1920-as évek közepétől kezdve [lásd: 1929-es gazdasági világválság] rettentő bizonytalan volt. És ő azt a hibát követte el, hogy a munkásait, ha volt munka, ha nem volt munka, fizette. Következésképpen állandó végrehajtás volt ellene, a zongorát hol vitték, hol visszavettük, hol megint elvitték. Úgyhogy jó kis bizonytalan helyzetben éltünk. Ennek ellenére nagyon boldogan éltek a szüleim. Hát nem mondom, hogy anyu időnként nem rendezett jeleneteket, mikor egy-egy végrehajtás jött meglepetésszerűen. Mert az apu minden rosszat igyekezett magától elhárítani. De őközöttük egyébként egy csodálatosan harmonikus házasság volt annak ellenére, hogy anyunak nagyon nehéz dolga volt. Ezen felül pedig kimondottan jó megjelenésű, elegáns pár voltak.

Az anyám apja Lindner Sámuel. 1842-ben született Námesztón [Árva vm.-ben lévő kisközség volt. – A szerk.]. Ha jól tudom, ez a község most Szlovákia területén van. Ő Bécsben élt, ott végezte az egyetemet. És bár általános orvosként végzett, szemorvos specialista lett belőle. Itt laktak a Fehérhajó utcában. Nagyon nagy praxisa volt, de úgy ismerték, mint a szegények orvosát. Tehát szegény embertől nemhogy nem fogadott el pénzt, hanem még ő segítette őket. Freud is megemlíti őt a munkájában – mert személyesen ismerték egymást –, és foglalkozott bizonyos mértékig pszichiátriával is. De ez inkább csak hobbija volt, lényegében mint belgyógyász tevékenykedett és mint szemspecialista. Ehhez hozzátartozott az, hogy a nagyapám – akit sajnos nem ismertem, de a testvéreim szerint egy különleges egyéniség volt – rendkívül felvilágosult ember volt orvosként is, és emberként is. Kiegyensúlyozott anyagi körülmények között éltek. Nem voltak gazdagok, ellentétben a nagymamám testvéreivel, akik általában kimondottan gazdag emberek lettek, elsősorban banki vonalon. Ő neológ volt, de szerintem járt templomba. 1911-ben halt meg. Azt tudom, hogy a nagymamám biztosan járt templomba, amíg ő élt, a családunkban ő volt a felelős az ünnepekért. Mindent betartott és betartatott velünk. Nagymamának nyolc iskolája volt, tehát négy polgárit végzett [Lásd: polgári iskola. A polgári iskolát az 1868-as népiskolai törvénnyel hozták létre, de a német „Bürgerschule” mintájára – először a német lakosságú városokban – létesítettek ún. polgári iskolákat (Pesten 1840-ben), ezek azonban még egységes szervezet és irányítás nélkül működtek. – A szerk.]. De rendkívül érdeklődő és meglepően modern gondolkozású valaki volt. Nagyon szeretett énekelni, úgyhogy gyerekkoromban nagyon gyakran ő altatott el. Tulajdonképpen amikor az ötszobás lakásban laktunk, akkor egy darabig velünk élt. Omi nagymamám 1933-ban halt meg. Neki sok testvére volt. Akiről én tudok, egy nővére, a Zseni néni, akivel együtt élt, miután tőlünk elköltözött. Akkor egy másik testvére volt a Szidi néni, aki nagyon fiatalon meghalt. Az ő gyereke volt Tükrössy Richárd, aki Pickről magyarosított Tükrössyre, mégpedig azon az alapon, hogy a feleségével vettek egy birtokot Tükröspusztán, és annak az alapján lett – két es-y-os – Tükrössy. Tehát ők nagyon hamar katolizáltak. Ő volt aztán, aki kifizette a tandíjamat az egyetem első félévében, és nála dolgoztam közvetlenül a háború után. Kelmefestékekkel kereskedő cége volt.

Anyukám 1876-ban született Budapesten. Egyedüli gyerek volt. Operaénekesnek tanult, és el is végezete az operaiskolát. Ez akkoriban különlegesnek számított. Nem is tartott sokáig a pályája, mert amikor férjhez ment, akkor az apunak az volt a kérése, hogy hagyja abba az éneklést. Hát ehhez tudomásul kell venni, hogy 1898-ban azért az egy polgári családban nem lett volna nagyon természetes, hogy a leány fellépjen. Úgyhogy anyu tudomásul vette. Előtte volt néhány szerepe, a legkedvesebb a Carmenből volt. Mezzo, illetve alt hangja volt. Az esküvőjük 1898-ban Dohány templomban volt. A házassága utántól kézimunkákat csinált, nem volt már munkahelye. Persze egész életében nagyon muzikális volt, úgyhogy a már említett családi zsúrokon bevett szokás volt, hogy az anyu énekelt. Meg mi is sokat zongoráztunk és énekeltünk otthon.

A szüleim Budakeszin egy nyaralót béreltek. Színes ablaküveggel volt végig bevonva, olyan barátságos kis ház volt. Oda még az én életemben is kijártunk kirándulni. Egy sváb család – akik egyébként a Budakeszi határában lévő vendéglőnek voltak a tulajdonosai –, azok egy házat adtak ki, ahova rendszeresen jártak évről évre. Az apu fiakerrel járt ki délutánonként, mert hát akkor még más közlekedés oda nem volt. És nagyon szerettek ott nyaralni, erről sokat mesélt a Hedi, a nővérem, hogy milyen jó dolguk volt ott. Egész nyáron kinn voltak, az iskolaszünetben. Vitték magukkal a háztartási alkalmazottat.

Hedi nővéremen kívül volt még egy nővérem, Cora. Ő 1900-ban született, Hedvig pedig 1903-ban. Cora művész volt, festő. Nagyon tehetséges volt és szép. Otthon, ha festett, akkor a szalonban, a nagyszobában állította föl a festővásznát, és keverte a színeket a palettáján. De hát azért ő főleg a szabadban festett, eljárt, leggyakrabban a Dunakanyarba. Kernstoknak az iskolájához tartozott, az úgynevezett nyári iskolához [Kernstok Károly (1873–1940), a Nyolcak egyik vezető alakja, majd plein-air képeket festett, később dekoratív, konstruktív és expresszív elemeket egyesített. – A szerk.]. Rengeteg akvarellt készített, ezek közül sok még mindig megvan. Cora megházasodott, és a férjével együtt 1930-ban elment a Szovjetunióba. 1935-ben Szolikamszkból küldött még hírt magáról, aztán semmi többet nem tudunk róla.

Hedi a Váci utcai gimnáziumban érettségizett [lásd: leányiskolák; érettségizett nők]. Nagyon szépen énekelt. Neki is alt hangja volt, de ő sosem gondolt arra, hogy művészi pályára menjen. De borzasztó nagy zenerajongó volt egész életében. Engem is állandóan vitt hangversenyekre. A bankszakmában dolgozott a háború előtt, aztán a háború után mégiscsak megint lett köze a művészetekhez. A Budapesti Színész Otthon megalapítója és kezdetekben az igazgatója volt. Mindenkit ismert a szakmából, együtt kártyázott a legnagyobb magyar színészekkel. Szenvedélyes kártyás volt. Még a háború előtt megismerkedett Blum Gyulával, akivel több mint öt évig jártak jegyben, mert Gyula nem tudott áttelepülni. Ő munkácsi [Munkács – Bereg vm.-ben fekvő város, melynek 1850-ben 6000, 1910-ben már 17 300 lakosa volt. A város a Galícia felé irányuló kereskedelem – fa, marha, gabona, bor, sör, ásványvizek, gyümölcs – lendítette fel. 1910-ben a város lakosainak 44%-a tartozott az izraelita hitfelekezethez, ez volt a legnépesebb vallási felekezet Munkácson. A város a trianoni békeszerződés értelmében 1919-ben Csehszlovákiához került, majd 1938-ban, az első bécsi döntés után átmenetileg ismét Magyarországhoz. Lakosainak száma ekkor már 30 000 fő körül mozgott. 1945-ben a Szovjetunióhoz csatolták (Ukrán Szovjet Szocialista Köztársaság), 1991 óta pedig Ukrajnához tartozik. – A szerk.] volt, bigott zsidó famíliából származott, de ő miután a tanulmányait végig Prágában csinálta, nagyon hamar elkerült ebből a környezetből, és teljesen, abszolút neológ lett, tehát abszolút nem volt vallásos. Az ő ortodox előéletéről nem volt sohasem szó. A családjával nemigen tartotta a kapcsolatot. Hedivel 1935-ben házasodtak össze. Polgári esküvőjük volt. Aztán a Gyulát elvitték munkaszolgálatra. Nem jött haza. Hedi csináltatott neki egy gyönyörű síremléket. Egy jó nevű szobrász készítette. Az 1970-es években műemléknek nyilvánították, úgyhogy Gyula emléke megmarad. A Hedi aztán sokkal később újraházasodott, egy Amerikában élő kutatóorvoshoz ment hozzá, aki még a háború előtt ment el Magyarországról. Tivadarral hol itt éltek, hol pedig Bostonban.

Hedi és Cora fantasztikusan jó testvérek voltak. Cora sokkal gyengébb karakter és egyéniség volt, mint a Hedi. Annak ellenére, hogy Hedi volt a fiatalabb, mindig ő volt a támasz.

A lányok nagy társasági életet éltek. Nálunk úgynevezett házi bál volt minden évben, míg ők otthon laktak. Ilyenkor a nagymamám is odajött, és akkor a nagymamámmal a személyzeti szobában aludtunk – mert hiszen akkor elküldtük a személyzetet, ők az előkészítésben segítettek meg aztán a rendrakásban. Pontosan emlékszem, a narancssaláta az állandó menü része volt, és volt egy olyan bútorunk, ami kifejezetten arra a célra szolgált, hogy föl lehetett rakni rá az ételt, tehát két emelete volt. Fölül voltak a sós ételek és alul voltak az édesek. És én odaálltam – körülbelül akkora voltam, hogy a fejem búbja a második emeletet érte el –, és akkor odaálltam, és ártatlan pofával hátranyúltam, és belenyúltam a narancssalátába és tömtem magamba. Ez egy élénk emlék. A másik pedig az, hogy volt egy gyönyörű, nagy csillárunk, ami viszonylag alacsonyan lógott le, és a táncolásnál zavart. Úgyhogy énnekem egy széket tettek a csillár alá, és akkor én arra ráültem, hogy a táncosok engem kerülve ne üssék be a fejüket a csillárba. Emlékeim szerint nagyon előkelő társaság gyűlt össze nálunk. Volt festő kolléga, szobrász kolléga, jó nevű zeneszerző és zeneelőadó is. Szóval intellektuális baráti köre volt a Hedinek meg Corának. Persze, miután a Hedi már kezdett a bankban dolgozni, hát voltak tisztviselők is, banktisztviselők. Ezeken a házi bálokon nemcsak táncoltak, hanem előadást is tartottak, amire készültek előre, a hozzávaló színpadi kellékeket persze Cora gyártotta le. Volt olyan, hogy „Az ember tragédiájá”-ból részleteket adtak elő úgy, hogy egy lyukon keresztül beszéltek, az volt a színpadi díszlet. Általában a farsangi időszakban voltak ezek a bálok. A lányok ruhát csináltattak maguknak a házi varrónővel, aki szezon előtt jött felfrissíteni a ruhatárunkat. Ezeknél a báloknál úgy volt, hogy másnap volt az úgynevezett reconnaissance-visite, amikor a vendégek névjegyet adtak le megköszönve az estélyt. És akkor vagy egy kávét kaptak, vagy valami szendvicset, vagy kis süteményt.

Volt egy ötszobás lakásunk, aztán abból később már csak két szobát használtunk, de az a két szoba is olyan nagy volt, mint mostanában egész lakások. A Kiss János utcában – mikor már én világra jöttem – nem volt cseléd, csak bejárónőnk volt. Akkor általában a személyzeti szobát valaki olyasvalaki kapta, aki a mosást csinálta meg a nagytakarítást. Amíg a Cora meg a Hedi gyerekek voltak, addig volt bejárónő, illetve cselédlány is. A nagylakásban én aludtam az ebédlőben, ott volt egy dívány. Hedi pedig a szalonban. A Coráé volt az egyik udvari szoba. A szülőknek volt saját hálószobája, az egyik utcai szoba.

Akkor változtattunk a kétszobásra, mikor Hedi férjhez ment, tehát csak későn, 1935-ben. Ekkor két szobát kiadtunk belőle. Az utcai szobából egy szobát egy francia nőnek és az udvari szobákból pedig az egyiket egy fiatalembernek adták ki anyuék.

Hiába volt két testvérem, mégis egykeként nőttem fel. Anyuval voltam nagyon sokat. Ő vezette a háztartást, ment bevásárolni minden reggel. Rém ügyes kezű volt, és nagyon jól tudott a Corának segíteni mindenfélében. Ha nagyon pénzszűkében voltunk, babákat csináltak. Például lencsibabákat teljesen korhűen és annyira remekül, hogy abból nagyon jó jövedelemhez jutottak. Az anyu aztán vállalt mindenfélét, például olyat is, hogy a Stümmertől – az volt a nagy csokoládégyár – valamilyen kapcsolat révén kapott bizományban árut, és akkor az egész családnak – mármint a nagycsaládnak – ő adta el, és ezen keresett.

A skót iskolába jártam elemibe is, és a négy polgárit is itt végeztem el. Mai napig azt mondom, hogy annál jobb iskola nem létezett. Például végig abból a matematikából éltem, amit a skót iskolában tanultam a Zsófi nénitől, a tanárnőnktől.

A skót iskola léte azon alapult, hogy zsidókat akart téríteni. Ez volt egyértelműen a feladata. Tehát egy skót misszió volt, református misszió, amelynek a feladata volt, hogy minél több zsidót térítsen. Következésképpen csodálatosan jó dolgunk volt. Sok zsidó volt az osztályban, és természetesen volt zsidó hittan. A legjobb barátnőm egy asztalosnak a lánya volt, aki még nota bene evangélikus is volt. [A Skót egyház 1838-ban indította meg az ún. zsidó missziót, és 1841-ben Pesten is létesített állomást. A szabadságharc után egy ideig szüneteltették a tevékenységüket, majd folytatták munkájukat. A misszió épületében elemi és polgári leányiskola és leányotthon működött, ahova főleg zsidó származású lányokat vettek föl. A misszió élén egy skót és egy magyar lelkész állt, az iskolákban pedig 16 tanerő tanított. – A szerk.]

Gimnáziumba a Mária Teréziába jártam, az Andrássy úton. Ez elit gimnáziumnak számított. Kitüntetéssel érettségiztem. Na most ott is volt persze zsidó hittan, Schwartz Jakab tanított, de nem sok maradt meg bennem belőle, ez az igazság. Nyugodtan megtanulhattam volna héberül olvasni, mert lehetett volna, de nem volt különösebb affinitásom iránta. Nagyon intelligens, rendes ember volt.

Délutánonként sokfele jártam, elsőként volt a zongora. A Hedi vitt el engem ötéves koromban ahhoz a zongoratanárnőhöz, akihez aztán hosszú évekig jártam. Részben eljártam hetente kétszer, aztán volt olyan, hogy hozzánk jött a tanár, már ha éppen otthon volt  a zongora. De volt úgy is, hogy a szomszédban kellett gyakorolnom. Aztán jártam az önképzőkörbe, aminek én voltam az elnöke, másrészt az énekkarban nagyon aktívan részt vettem. A sportkörben kevésbé voltam aktív, arra már nem futotta az időmből. Még a polgáriba jártam, amikor elkezdtem pénzt keresni. És az elég sok időt vett igénybe, főleg a hétvégeket, mert a gyermekszínházban zongoráztam, kísértem az énekeseket, meg a színdarabokhoz játszottam, úgyhogy ezzel én nagyon rendesen kerestem. Jártunk vidékre. Eredetileg azt képzelték rólam, hogy én nagyon muzikális vagyok, és ezért ezen a pályán kéne elhelyezkednem. Viszont volt egy kiváló kémiatanárom, egy zseniális ember, aki olyan érdekessé tudta tenni ezt a sokak számára száraz, unalmas vagy kevéssé vonzó tárgyat, hogy én beleszerettem. És úgy döntöttem aztán, hogy felvételizem a műszaki egyetemre. Egyébként akkor még nem volt felvételi vizsga [A két világháború közötti felsőoktatásban nem volt felvételi vizsga, csak egyes, a profiljuk miatt előzetes szelekciót igénylő szakok esetében. A magyarországi felsőoktatásban 1952-ben rendelték el az egyetemi és főiskolai felvételi vizsgát.  – A szerk.], a kitüntetéses érettségi számított, és egy beszélgetés volt az emberrel. Nem túl nagy sansszal indultam neki, hiszen a numerus clausus már működött 1935-ben [„Hivatalosan” legalábbis, ekkor már nem és még nem volt numerus clausus az egyetemeken. Az 1920 és 1928 között működött numerus clausus-rendszert az 1939. évi IV. tc., az ún. második zsidótörvény („A zsidók közéleti és gazdasági térfoglalásának korlátozásáról”) állította vissza. Lásd még: Antiszemita közhangulat az 1920-as évek elején; Egyetemi tanulmányok és a numerus clausus; Numerus clausus Magyarországon; Zsidótörvények Magyarországon. – A szerk.]. De felvettek. Az első félévben tandíjat kellett fizetni, és ezt mi nem tudtuk volna kifizetni, de az egyik rokonunk azt mondta, hogy ha engem fölvesznek az egyetemre, akkor ő állja a tandíjat. Na most ezt neki egy fél évig kellett csak állni, mert az első félévben még mindenkinek kellett tandíjat fizetni, de attól kezdve a vizsgáim eredménye alapján tandíjmentes voltam végig az egyetemen. Az egyetem után rögtön a doktorit is megcsináltam. Igaz, hogy a diplomámat hosszú ideig nem tudtam hasznosítani, mert hiszen 1940-ben doktoráltam, úgyhogy akkor arról, hogy elhelyezkedjem vegyészként természetesen szó sem lehetett [lásd: zsidótörvények Magyarországon]. Ezért egészen alulról kezdtem, egy kelmefestő üzembe mentem, még csak nem is segédnek, hanem inasnak, és ott bedolgoztam magam. Megtanultam nagyon sok minden praktikus dolgot, és egészen addig, amíg a háború olyan mértéket nem öltött, hogy nem lehetett mozogni már, ott dolgoztam.

Amíg a nagymamám élt, addig a zsidó ünnepeket nálunk betartották. Ami azt jelentette, hogy nagyobb ünnepeken Pészah, Ros Hasónó [Ros Hásáná], Jam Kiper az Omi odajött hozzánk – mert ő egyébként a testvérével lakott, mégpedig éppen abban a házban az Ajtósi Dürer soron, ahol később mi a nyilasok elől elbújtunk –, és nálunk maradt az ünnep kimeneteléig. Általában ott is aludt nálunk. Elmentek együtt anyuval a Dohány utcai templomba, én nem mentem velük, meg úgy emlékszem, hogy sem az apám, sem pedig a nővéreim nem mentek velük. Gyerekkoromban, sőt fiatal lány koromban a böjtöt [lásd: böjtnap] betartottuk. Ennek megvolt a maga normális rituáléja. Pészahkor is a füvektől kezdve a kemény tojáson, a sós vízen keresztül minden megvolt. A Hagadát én olvastam mint legfiatalabb, persze nem végig, mert azért az sok lett volna. Ott volt az egész család. De ezek mellett volt karácsony is. Amióta az eszemet tudom, mindig volt karácsonyfánk, de ajándék nem volt. A lényeg az volt, hogy karácsonyfa és gyertya és csillagszóró. De ennek semmiféle vallási jellege nem volt. Ez éppúgy hozzátartozott a hagyományhoz, mint ahogy az én életemben a zsidó ünnepek is hagyománynak számítottak.

Nyaranként Horányba jártunk. A Duna mellett voltak kis telepek, ahol házakat lehetett bérelni meg venni is. Többféle telep volt, a mienk egy olyan jó zsidó társaság volt. Persze nem mindenki volt zsidó, de például ott a telepen semmi antiszemitizmus nem volt. Az unokatestvéreimnek (apai oldali) volt egy házuk, egy nagyon szép faházuk, aminek a bútorait a Cora festette meg, végig ilyen magyaros, tulipános mintája volt az egésznek, fehér bútor és kézzel festve, gyönyörű volt. A háborúban gajra ment, elégették, felhasogatták vagy elvitte valaki, ki tudja?

Volt pingpongasztal és természetesen a víz. Általában anyu, Hedi és én jártunk ki Horányba. Apám nagyon nem volt Duna-barát. Mindig azt mondta: a Dunától félni kell, a víznek nincs korlátja. Mi az anyuval rendszeresen heteket töltöttünk ott, apu nagyon ritkán jött ki. Anyu ment be inkább hozzá. Anyu evezett, és nagyszerűen úszott. Ő tanított meg úszni, természetesen a Dunában.

Télen síelni jártunk a budai hegyekbe. Leesett a hó december elején, és március elejéig biztos lehetett menni. És akkor szépen felültünk a villamosra, fölraktuk a vállunkra a lécet, fölmentünk Normafához, és akkor síeltünk, Hedi, a Gyula [Blum Gyula, Hedvig férje] és én.

Nagyon jó időszak volt, amikor a 16. Árva Bethlen Kata református csapat cserkésze voltam. Ennek a vezetője tudta megvalósítani azt, szinte példa nélkülien az én életemben, hogy hívő volt, és mégis olyan emberi volt, hogy azt el nem lehet mondani. Minden héten volt egy őrsgyűlés, ahol varrni tanultunk, megtanultuk az elsősegélynyújtást, idegenforgalomra felkészítettek bennünket. Természetesen volt Biblia-foglalkozás, torna, és voltak a táborok, amikor elmentünk nyáron három hétre valahova. Ezekben a táborokban mi főztünk, mi takarítottunk, sátorban laktunk vagy barakkban, és csodálatosan jól éreztük magunkat. Volt egyenruha, világos drapp ing, barna nyakkendő és egy barna búrkalapszerű kalap. Ebben a csapatban csak lányok voltunk, úgy 30–40-en.

1944. október 15-én, mint minden megfelelő korban lévő zsidónak számító nőt behívtak a KISOK-pályára, ahol még aznap este szétosztották a társaságot. Engem jó néhány társammal együtt Veresegyházára vittek, ahol egy téglagyárban helyeztek el. A felügyeletet egy nyilas keret tartotta. De már másnap átadtak bennünket munkára egy katonai egységnek, amelynek egy zászlós volt a vezetője. A munka lényegében úgynevezett árokásás volt, védelmi árkot ásattak velünk. A katonai vezetés humánusan viselkedett velünk, amit természetesen a nyilasokról kevésbé lehetett mondani. Körülbelül két-három hétig csináltuk ezt a munkát, amikor a katonai vezető egyszer – ez a zászlós – félrehívott, és közölte velem, hogy aznap este orvosi vizsgálaton esik keresztül az egész társaság, és akiket betegnek találnak, azt leszerelik, aki egészséges, azt viszont menetbe állítják, és kiviszik előreláthatólag az osztrák határon túlra. [1944. október 21-én Beregffy Károly, a nyilaskormány honvédelmi minisztere elrendelte, hogy minden 60 éven aluli zsidó férfi és minden 40 éven aluli zsidó nő honvédelmi szolgálatot teljesítsen. A munkacsoportokba szervezett embereket elkülönítették a tényleges honvédségi munkaszolgálatot teljesítőktől, és „sáncásóknak” nevezték el őket. A minisztertanács döntése értelmében a munkaszolgálat és a kisegítő honvédelmi tevékenység a totális mozgósítás miniszterének hatáskörébe került. Az általános mozgósítás kapcsán a zsidótörvények alá eső nőket 16 (Braham szerint 18) és 40, a férfiakat 16 és 60 éves kor között rendelték be honvédségi kisegítő szolgálatra. (Stark Tamás: Zsidóság a vészkorszakban és a felszabadulás után 1939–1955, Budapest, 1995. MTA TTI.) Október 26-ig kb. 35 ezer zsidót (közöttük mintegy 10 ezer nőt) szerveztek munkaszolgálatos századokba, és a főváros déli és délkeleti peremvidékére vezényelték őket. Az életben maradottak többségét november második felében az újlaki téglagyárban helyezték el, és innen indították őket gyalogmenetben Hegyeshalom felé, ahol átadták őket a németeknek, és a Bécset védő „Keleti falat” építtették velük. [R. L. Braham: A népirtás politikája. A holokauszt Magyarországon, ford. Szentmiklósi Tamás, Új Mandátum Könyvkiadó, Budapest, 2003.) – A szerk.]

Az ő javaslatára azt mondtam este az orvosnak, hogy miómám van, aki ezzel beírt abba a részlegbe, amelyik leszerelt. Tehát én november, talán 10-e és 20-a között hazajöttem.
Utána a családom – elsősorban a nővérem hatására, aki azt mondta, hogy egy percig sem maradunk a csillagos házban, mert ez rendkívül veszélyes lehet – elhurcolkodott a lakásból. Hedi már előzőleg, még az én távollétemben megbeszélte az Ajtósi Dürer soron lakó unokatestvérünkkel, hogy ott, lévén egy üres lakás, hogy menjünk oda, és rejtőzködjünk el hamis papírokkal – hát hogy mennyire voltak megfelelőek a papírok, arra szerencsére sose került sor, hogy ezt ellenőrizzék, mert ezek a papírok, ezek saját magunk gyártotta nagyon gyenge kis hamísított hamis papírok voltak. Apámmal, anyámmal, Hedivel, a nővéremmel együtt kimentünk ide. Az már csak ott derült ki, hogy ebben a házban voltak az úgynevezett szürke diakonisszák, akiknek a vezetője Margit asszony nagyon sok zsidót mentett [lásd: Slachta Margit]. Ebben a házban éltük meg a felszabadítást, mert ide jöttek be az oroszok. Nem mondom, hogy ez egy nagyon kellemes emlék, mert aznap éjjel én a szüleim alatt aludtam végig az éjszakát, illetve nem aludtam végig: rajtam feküdt az apám és az anyám, hogy eltakarjanak, és a létezésemet szinte nullifikálják, mert hát bizony az oroszok ott a szemünk láttára, illetve énnekem fülem hallatára becstelenítettek meg sok asszonyt. A Hedit pedig partizánnak akarták tekinteni, mert a Hedin egy fekete nadrág és egy fekete pulóver volt, és éppen amikor az oroszok jöttek, akkor kenyeret dagasztott, és a keze a kenyértésztával volt tele, és ahogy fölemelte, azt hitték, hogy valami fegyver van a kezében.

Innen egy kisebb kitérővel hazamentünk, de a lakásunkat kifosztva, széthordva találtuk. Hedi lakásában kevesebb kár lett, így mindannyian odaköltöztünk.

A férjemmel való megismerkedés története még a háború előttre nyúlik vissza. A gimnáziumi legjobb barátnőm, aki az érettségi után hamarosan férjhez ment, bemutatott a férje legjobb barátjának. Mindketten, mármint a két férfi, nagy evezősök voltak – a Poseidon Klubban eveztek –, és tekintettel arra, hogy jómagam is sokat jártam a Dunára és eveztem, elkezdtem velük eljárni. Szimpatikus volt Fülöp, de egész más irányban voltam akkor angazsálva, tehát különösebben nem foglalkoztatott. A háború befejeztével, amikor mindenki, aki élve maradt, fontos emberré válhatott az ember életében, mert boldog volt, hogy más is megúszta ezt a szörnyű kavalkádot, egyszer csak május elején megjelent a munkahelyemen, röviddel tulajdonképpen a felszabadulás után. (A munkahelyem a Tükrössy cégnél volt, ami német festékgyárak képviseletével foglalkozott annak idején, a háború után pedig a meglévő készletével és újabb beszerzésekkel látta el festékkel alapjában véve elsősorban a kisiparosokat, de nagyobb gyárakat is.) Természetesen rendkívül örültem, mert hiszen fogalmam sem volt, hogy életben van. A nyakába ugrottam, boldogan üdvözöltem az élők sorában. És amikor ezek után hamar megkérte a kezemet, csak egy kikötésem volt, hogy addig nem megyek hozzá, amíg anyuék lakásában nincs ablak. És akkor Füli csodával határos módon szerzett ablakot, amit a hátán cipelt ide. Szerzett üveget, és akkor megcsinálták az ablakokat, és már nem volt akadálya a házasságnak.

1947-ben született a fiam, és 1950-ben a lányom. Az ő születése előtt már az Anilinnak az ősénél, a Hazai Színezékgyártó Részlegeket Ellenőrző Laboratóriumban dolgoztam, és innen is mentem nyugdíjba elég előkelő pozícióból. Sokat jártam a munkám miatt külföldre. A gyerekeimet nem neveltem zsidó szellemben, más világ volt akkor. Vannak unokáim, sőt hamarosan már két dédunokám is lesz.

Adela Nissimova Levi

Adela Nissimova Levi
Sofia
Bulgaria
Interviewer: Stefan Djambazov
Date of interview: January 2005

Adela Nissimova Levi is an energetic 77-year-old woman, who lives alone in a cozily arranged, nice apartment in a block building. Her husband passed away and her daughter, who is married to a Bulgarian, doesn’t live with her. Although Adela was very poor when she was a child, she doesn’t speak bitterly about her childhood, but rather interestingly. She doesn’t complain, and she feels well; she has a rich social life too. One can also say that she doesn’t look lonely, but happy in her own two-room apartment. She worked in journalism, so she tells the stories of her life very eloquently and remembers a lot of events very clearly.

My family history 
Growing up
Going to school 
My sisters
During the War
After the War
Glossary 

My family history

My paternal grandfather, Naftali Cohen, lived in Salonika [today Greece] and I don’t know what year he came to Bulgaria with my father. I don’t know if my ancestors came from Spain [see Expulsion of the Jews from Spain] 1, but I know that they are Sephardi Jews [see Sephardi Jewry] 2, so they must have Spanish blood. I also didn’t know my maternal ancestors: only my grandmother Buka [Moshe Alvas] [Editor’s note: her real first name was Bohora, but according to the Sephardi tradition the eldest sister was always called Buka in the family regardless of her official name.] She looked very old to me when I was a child. I didn’t know my maternal grandfather: he died before I was born. I also didn’t know my father’s parents and know almost nothing about his kin, I only know that he had three brothers and I knew only one of them. The reason is that my father died when he was 43 years old and I was four years old at that time. I have a vague memory of his death and hardly have any other memories of him.

My grandmother Buka lived in a dilapidated house on Pozitano Street in Sofia with her only son. Now the house doesn’t exist, there is a block of apartments in its place. She wore a shamia, a sleeveless jacket and a petticoat. She was a small, but very strong woman and quite strict. She dressed according to the fashion of those times. I don’t know if anyone wore special Jewish attire in Bulgaria at that time. My grandmother moved to Israel in 1947 or 1948. I remember her well though. I even remember a very funny event: when she was told that she would be immigrating, she declared that she didn’t want to move, because those who died while traveling weren’t buried according to the rituals and they were thrown into the sea.

My grandmother was a rohesa: a woman who prepares the dead bodies in the synagogue. She was the leader of that organization or club [Chevra Kaddisha]. My grandmother even prepared the dress for her funeral: the so-called ‘murtazh’ [kitel] and when she was about to leave, she grumbled, ‘If I die on the road, they wouldn’t be able to dress me in it.’ She also had a special funeral cushion, she had prepared everything. But the funniest thing was that when she arrived in Israel safe and sound and my uncle wrote, ‘We are okay, we have arrived’, my husband David Yakov Levi, whom I had just married, said, ‘Now, your grandmother can turn her murtazh into a swimming suit!’ My grandmother was very religious, and those rituals were observed only by very religious Jews.

My mother was Viza Nissim Cohen, nee Moshe Alvas. My father was Nissim Naftali Cohen. I know nothing about their lives before they got married. I don’t know how my parents met, but I guess their wedding was arranged, as was the practice in those times. There were only religious weddings then. My mother died in 1968 at the age of 72 and my father died at the age of 43 in 1931. I remember very well the year he died because my youngest sister [Mazal] was only one year and six days old. She was born on 1st May and he died on 6th May. I think he died of lung cancer, although he never smoked. He was a shoemaker: he made shoes out of leather. They were called ‘opintsi’ and were worn by the villagers. My mother was a housewife but when my father died she started sewing. They spoke Spanish at home: Spaniolit [Ladino]. We also spoke Bulgarian. I remember that my mother dressed according to the times. We lived very miserably. We warmed the rooms with iron stoves using wood and coal. All the time we paid rent and we moved from house to house. We didn’t have gardens or housemaids. We had very few books at home; we didn’t have a library and didn’t buy newspapers.

Growing up

I was born in 1927 in Sofia in the Iuchbunar 3 housing estate: a Jewish neighborhood in Sofia. We were a large family: I have five sisters. Between me and my elder sister my mother had a boy, but he died when he was one year old. It seems that my parents really wanted a boy, so they kept trying. As a result, I and my younger sister were born. I am number five. I don’t have any brothers, I have only sisters: Ester, Raina, Sofka, Rashel, and Mazal. I don’t remember the house where we lived because I was very young, but I remember that there were some stairs leading to one of the rooms. I don’t know how many rooms there were, but we all lived together. The water tank was outside as it was like that in the whole neighborhood.

Later, we moved to another house on Shar Planina Street in the same neighborhood, where we lived in a low but long house, which was called ‚The Sixth Regiment’ because it resembled barracks. We all lived in one room. There was a small corridor, which was also used as a kitchen. There was electricity, but the water tank again was outside. I remember that once while my sister was carrying a jug of water inside to make pickles, she tumbled over a cobblestone, and broke the jug. The toilet was also in the yard. From that time, I remember my father’s death. I was four years old. After my father’s death we moved to another house in the same neighborhood: on Partenii Nishavski Street. We lived in a nicer room with a larger corridor, but we paid rent and the toilet and water were also outside. I was five years old at that time. When I was seven years old, I was sent to an orphanage where I lived until the age of 14.

I can’t say how large the Jewish community in Sofia was during my childhood but I think there were a lot of people. There were two synagogues in Sofia at that time, and the other prayer houses, which were smaller, were called midrashi [bet midrash]. There was a rabbi, a shochet and a chazzan. The two synagogues were the Central Synagogue [see Great Synagogue] 4 and the Iuchbunar Synagogue 5. There were two Jewish schools [in Sofia] 6: the central one and the Iuchbunar one. The central one was on Tsar Kaloyan Street where the Rila Hotel is now, or to be more precise, the shop ‘Sredets’ which is in front of the hotel. I studied at that school, but it was bombed and destroyed during World War II. At seven years of age I was sent to an orphanage, because my father had died and my mother had six daughters and no money. Then she was forced to buy a sewing machine and pay for it by installments. She used to sew some clothes and supported the family in this way. Unfortunately, she couldn’t support us all, so firstly she sent my older sister to an orphanage and a few years later, I was sent too. It was a Jewish orphanage ‘Tsaritsa [Queen] Yoanna’ [Editor’s note: actually the interviewee means ‘Queen Eleonore’ 7 orphanage. There was a school named ‘Tsaritsa Yoanna’ in Sofia]. It was located opposite Slavia football ground near the Russian monument in Sofia.

I have always felt some kind of anti-Semitism around me. I didn’t experience it personally, because I lived mostly in the Jewish neighborhood, but I heard from my elder cousins that they had been called ‘chifuti’ 8 or other insulting words. While I was in the Jewish orphanage we went on vacation: we went camping to Berkovitsa. Other orphanages were there as well. They were close to ours: one of them was ‘Bitolya,’ I don’t remember the other one, but it was also close. Our orphanage was supported by rich Jews and we were a little bit better off than the others. We went to Berkovitsa, and ate better food. The children from the other orphanages came and beat us if we didn’t let them eat our food. And I heard the word ‘chifuti’ and other words, which I didn’t know the meanings of at that time.

Friday was a market day but carts with vegetables and fruit passed through the streets. Since my mother had a lot of work, she waited for someone to pass in order to buy something. She worked at home, and so did my elder sister in order to support us. I remember the people with the carts shouting, ‘Tomatoes blue, purple and juicy!’ [Editor’s note: They are generally referred to as eggplant.] And by the shouting we knew who passed. Then she went out and bought something. There were some merchants whom we knew and who gave us goods on credit. Mostly poor people lived in our neighborhood. They were retailers, craftsmen, etc. My father-in-law was a junk dealer. There were also tailors, cobblers and barbers. There were richer Jews in other residential districts in Sofia, but in our neighborhood they were mostly poor.

My parents weren’t very religious. They observed some common rituals. On Friday night my mother would clean the whole house, if you could call our home a house. She always made some kind of cheese pastry, no matter how poor we were, and some soup. We always had that on Friday night, except during the time we were interned. On Saturday, the men went to the synagogue, but my mother didn’t. I don’t remember if my father went to the synagogue. They didn’t have any special role in the Jewish community, nor were they involved in politics. Not all of our neighbors were Jews, but most of them were. Our relations with them were very good. I remember that after my father’s death when we moved to our second house on Shar Planina Street, the landlords there were Jews and we often gathered together under the vines in the yard during the summer.

My parents communicated mostly with Jews, except for my father at his workplace. They usually visited other Jewish families. I remember that when a holiday like Pesach, Yom Kippur or Rosh Hashanah came, my grandmother Buka was very strict and gathered all the family at her place. I remember a long narrow table arranged with everything the rituals required. We all went there and by the time we were allowed to eat after the prayers, I was already starving. For Jews family is very important. On all holidays the family should gather at the place of the eldest member. And my grandmother observed those traditions strictly. We didn’t go on vacations because we couldn’t afford it.

My mother’s sisters lived in Sofia until we were interned [see Internment of Jews in Bulgaria] 9. She had three sisters. They were all housewives, and she also had one brother. My mother’s sisters were Berta, Ameli and the eldest one: Ermana. My mother was second after Ermana, then Ameli was born and Berta is the youngest. Her brother was born between the third and the fourth sister and his name was Avram. They all lived in Sofia in the Jewish neighborhood. My uncle Avram was a tailor. Berta’s husband was a barber, Ameli’s husband sold some goods on a cart, I don’t remember what exactly. Ermana’s husband was injured during a war, but still worked as a tailor. They all had many children. I can only tell their numbers, for example Ermana had three sons and one daughter, Ameli had two sons, and Berta had one daughter.

My father had three brothers, but I didn’t know them. The eldest one was Shlomo, who was also the richest, but I don’t know what he did. I think that for a while he and my father worked together. He had three sons and a daughter. His wife was paralyzed. After my father’s death he often visited us and wanted to help my mother. I don’t remember my father’s sister. My mother’s brother, although younger, looked after the whole family. My mother’s sisters were also close to her: she didn’t keep in touch with other people, because she became a widow at the age of 35, and remained one.

When my father died, I was sent to an asylum. I was four years old then. It was a Jewish one and was located on Osogovo Street. It was like a kindergarten because in the evenings we went back home. I guess that we didn’t pay fees, as it was for poor children. I don’t remember what time we went there in the morning or what time we went home: usually when it got dark, our parents came to pick us up or we went home by ourselves. We learned songs and poems. I remember the doctor who looked after us there. The other women were also very nice. During weekends we stayed at home and my elder sisters looked after me, mostly my sister Rashel, who was born before me. They even tell me that she loved me so much that when they hid me from her once, she started looking for me everywhere, asking, ‘Where is Delche, where is Delcheto?’ - she didn’t call me Adela, but Delche. And she would start crying and shouting, ‘Delche, come to me!’

After the asylum I went to the Jewish orphanage. We lived there all the time. We were sent home only if there was some quarantine. Every two weeks we were also sent home for a couple of hours. There was a headmistress at the school and a teacher who supervised us. We went to study in the central Jewish school but prepared for our lessons in the orphanage. The headmistress was Basad. There was also a very evil teacher named Franka. We called the teacher ‘giveret’ which means Miss [in Ivrit] and there was also a stoker who was in charge of the local heating. We were around 60-70 children. We were all of different ages, because we studied together from the first to the third grade.

There were two dormitories in the orphanage: a female and a male one. We all slept there. The beds were made of iron and were arranged next to one another. There were also some kinds of bedside tables. We had water and electricity. The toilets were inside. There was also a bathroom in the cellar. There were washing machines and washing women. There was also a small room: we called it the ‘isolator.’ If someone got sick, they were put there so that they wouldn’t infect the others.

Going to school

We had classrooms with desks in the orphanage. Everyone had a specific place where we prepared for the next day. We also had a dining-room where we ate. The cook was Auntie Totka from Popovo. She was a Bulgarian. The food was good, especially in comparison with the other orphanages. In the evenings, when we prepared for our lessons Mrs. Dimitrova, also a Bulgarian, would help us in all the subjects, except Ivrit. She tested us and the other teacher, whom we called ‘giveret’, prepared us for the subjects in Ivrit. Mrs. Dimitrova carried a ruler and when you said something wrong, she would slap you and say, ‘Go and prepare better next time.’ When you made noise in the classroom, you were punished by standing up for some time. There was even a music teacher in the orphanage: his name was Iliev. He lived very close to the orphanage. He taught us and we had a mandolin band and we performed at some gatherings. I played the mandolin, but I was also an actress. We prepared some performances for the end of the school year or when our sponsors came. I don’t remember the plays, but they were children’s ones i.e. fairy tales, or something improvised related to holidays such as Chanukkah, for example.

The school was full day. We got up at six o’clock, did some gymnastics, had breakfast at the orphanage, polished our shoes, and went to school. We had packed our school bags the night before. At lunch we went back, we had lunch and then went back to school at 2pm. We came back at 5pm. We prepared for our lessons and then had dinner. We were also given some cheese sandwiches to eat at school in the morning.

I loved mathematics. We also studied the Tannakh alongside all subjects obligatory for the Bulgarian schools. The teacher who taught us the Tannakh was called Temkin. We were very cruel to him. He was an old man with glasses and he was all shaky, but he knew Ivrit very well. We made him angry during the classes: we made a lot of noise. Now that I think about it, I think we were very cruel then. I remember him very well.

I also remember our geography teacher: Herskovich. She limped with one leg. She must have been one of the German Jews. There was also another teacher, Petkova, who taught us Bulgarian: she was an excellent teacher. But she was also very strict. There was one motto: ‘A six to God, a five to me, a four to the pupils.’ At that time marks were from 2 to 6. She insisted on us being very well prepared for her classes. I didn’t go to a tutor for private lessons because we had no money and we were prepared very well at the orphanage. I knew Ivrit and French.

My school friends were Jews and I had no friends outside school. When I was at the orphanage, the future famous playwright Dragomir Asenov, whose real name is Jacques Melamed, was also there [Jacques Melamed (1926-1981): writer and playwright. He became known by his pseudonym Dragomir Asenov]. He was older than me, but he didn’t study at the Jewish school, because he had come later to the orphanage and he had already started studying in a Bulgarian school. There were two or three other children, who had also come at a later time and were studying at Bulgarian schools.

We played mostly a game called ‘people’s ball’ at the orphanage. ‘People’s ball’ is played by two teams. There is no fixed number of players. The playing field is divided into two by a line, but no net is placed in the middle. Each team stays in their own part of the field. There are two players of the teams who stay outside the field behind the players. The player who has the ball throws it hard at the player of his team who is outside the field and aims to hit a player from the other team in the process. The player who is hit by the ball leaves the game. If he catches the ball, however, it passes to his team and it is their turn to try to eliminate the players from the other team. The team which has the most players remaining in the field wins the game. This game is played mostly by girls because the boys prefer either football or volleyball. There was a yard where we played and danced even during the winter, when it was cold outside. There was a square corridor in front of the dining hall and we danced to Bulgarian folk songs especially rachenitsas [one kind of Bulgarian folk dance]. When we went back home, our mothers would take us out to some relatives or to the nearest park or prepared us something to eat. We couldn’t afford to go to restaurants.

Every Saturday we were taken to the synagogue. We observed the traditions. Our sponsors came on Purim. Holidays, when there was food, were our favorite times. When Pesach approached, the supervisors made us wash and clean everything. Then the rich Jews took us to their homes to spend the holidays. For some years a family, the Weinstocks, took me to their home for the holidays. They were German Jews and lived on Oborishte Street in the center of Sofia. I spent eight days there, but I was always bored, because I felt lonely. The people were so nice and caring. We communicated in Bulgarian: they were German Jews but also Bulgarian citizens and they knew the language. Then I spent the holidays with another family: Haimov, who lived on Bratia Miladinovi Street. Maybe I also went to other homes but I don’t remember. On Chanukkah and Purim we were at the orphanage and we had a good time.

During the holidays the orphanage took us to Berkovitsa. We went there every year, but once I was sent to the seaside in Varna, because I was very weak and didn’t eat anything. We slept in a school, which was arranged with beds. I spent 20 days there and then I went to Berkovitsa where the other children from the orphanage were. That was the first time I got on a train. It was a great experience for me, although we were put 12-13 children in one compartment, some of them were even put on the places for luggage. I must have been nine years old then. I got into a car for the first time on another occasion.

There was a time when the state lottery winning numbers were drawn by children from orphanages. We were set on a stage, the spheres were placed in front of us and the children rolled them: ones, tens, hundreds, etc. I was elected to do that a number of times and then we got into a car and went to the Army Club or to some kind of hall, maybe the Royal Cinema which is now the ‘Bulgarian Army’ theater [in Sofia’s center]. The children from the orphanage made fun of us, because Dragomir Asenov [Jacques Melamed] and I were sent a number of times together and they said, ‘The bride and groom are coming.’

My sisters

The eldest of my sisters was and remained Ester Cohen, because her second husband was also Cohen. She was born in 1915 and separated from us before the internment, after she married. Before, she helped my mother and they both worked from dawn till dusk. My mother even bought another sewing machine for her. Ester had a son, Jan Kalo, who left for Israel and died in an accident: a post office truck hit him while he was bending to take his mail. He taught semi-conductors at a university in Israel. He had three sons there. Ester died in 1984 in Sofia.

My second sister is Raina [Nissimova Aladjem, nee Cohen]. She was born in 1918 in Sofia and is now 86 year old. She has a son and a daughter in Bulgaria. The daughter is the elder one. She was born in Ruse during the internment in October 1944 and her name is Sonia. Her two daughters live in Israel. Sonia’s brother Nissim Aladjem or Niki, as we call him, also lives in Bulgaria. His wife is Ganka. She is from Haskovo region. They have two sons: one of them lives in Israel and the other here. The one here has two university degrees and works in a bank.

My third sister is Sofka [Nissimova Perets, nee Cohen]. She was born in Sofia in 1921. Her husband’s family name is Perets. Her husband worked at the Forestry Ministry. He died in 1993 and she left for Israel in 1998 or 1999. She worked at the ‘Tehnika’ Publishing House. Before the internment in 1943 she also worked at the book-binding company ‘Sam Patak.’ She has a son and a daughter. They are both in Israel. His name is Heskia and her name is Vivi.

Then came Rashel [Nissimova Levi, nee Cohen]. She was born in 1924. Her husband’s name was Izi Levi, who was a doctor. Rashel graduated in Bulgaria and then left with her husband in 1948 to Israel where she finished her education. She was a nurse. She has one daughter and two sons. They are all Israeli citizens. Her elder son is Israel, who graduated in oceanography, the other, Ronen, is in the air force, and the girl, Riva, is a teacher in a kibbutz. Rashel died two years ago and her husband died before her.

After her, my brother was born, then I and my younger sister, who also moved to Israel in 1948. Her name is Mazal or Mimi, as we called her. Her husband Nissim Alsheh studied in the Conservatory here, but graduated in Israel and became director of a conservatory there. They visit me every year. They have a son, Natan, and a daughter, Aviva. My sisters studied in Sofia and Rashel also studied in the orphanage. There was a tradition there: every three to four years the pupil with the highest marks remained at the orphanage until they went to high school. My sister Rashel was a very good pupil and she was enrolled in a medical school. She lived at the orphanage, although I also went there, and only one member of a family was allowed to stay on. She helped me a lot there. My other sisters graduated from Jewish schools. They have elementary education. I studied until our internment: I finished the third grade at a junior high school at the end of 1942.

During the War

In fall 1942 the political tension could already be felt. I was old enough to leave the orphanage but there were other kids who should have continued staying there. Yet it was closed at the beginning of 1943 when the preparations for war started, although there were no bombings over Sofia yet. I went home and we weren’t allowed to communicate with Bulgarians, in accordance with the Law for the Protection of the Nation 10. We were also given the stars [see Yellow star in Bulgaria] 11, I don’t know the exact date but it was at the end of 1942 or the beginning of 1943, when I left the orphanage. They changed our identity cards: they were no longer green, but pink. They changed our names. I was named Ida Nissim Naftali which had nothing in common with my own name [see Forced name change during Holocaust] 12. I had to be named after my father or grandfather. And since my first name was like a Bulgarian one, all my three names were changed. I had that name during the internment. My other sisters were also renamed, only Ester remained Ester. Raina was named Reina, Sofka was named Simha. Rashel became Rahel and Mazal became Mimi. My mother’s name was changed from Viza to Venezia.

We were forced to carry the stars sewn on our clothes without moving them and a curfew was imposed. I don’t remember what time it started in the morning, but we weren’t allowed to go outside after 7pm. We could walk outside our neighborhood but it wasn’t recommended, because when people saw the stars, they didn’t treat us nicely. We weren’t allowed to go to school and my mother sent me to a seamstress to learn the craft. But that was until 24th May 1943 13 when the demonstration, in which I also participated, took place. At first, we were all told to go in front of the Jewish school in Iuchbunar which was on Osogovo Street. We were told by Jewish organizations, of which we were members: ‘Hashomer Hatzair’ [in Bulgaria] 14, ‘Maccabi’ [World Union] 15 and the others.

At that time I was also a member of the Union of Young Workers [see UYW] 16, the youth branch of the Bulgarian Communist Party, which together with the other organizations organized this demonstration against the anti-Jewish law: the Law for the Protection of the Nation, and the deportation of Jews. Students and adults gathered at the yard of the school. Haribi [rabbi] Daniel [Zion] 17 had also come and he spoke first. He said that we had to stand up against the deportation of Jews. Then some young Jews came out of a neighboring building and starting speaking about what our future was and what we had to do.

Then we started walking along the present Stamboliiski Boulevard towards the Palace in order to hand a petition to King Boris III 18. On Opalchenska Street some mounted policemen were waiting for us and started beating the people with their batons in order to disperse us. Many people were arrested, especially the older ones, because they couldn’t run fast, and were transported to a school. Those who had been arrested were sent to a camp in Somovit, a town on the Danube coast. I had been beaten badly on the leg, the head, the arms, and wherever else they could, because I was in the second row and we were walking hand in hand. I managed to escape and was returning home along the small streets when suddenly a hand grabbed me and pulled me into a yard. It turned out to be my mother. ‘You’ll sit here and you won’t move!’ she said.

All my sisters had taken part in the demonstration. So, my mother was waiting at a place on our way home – it was the only way we could take to return home. And when she found all of us, we went home together. After that day we couldn’t go out, because there was a blockade during the night and the next day. Policemen went from house to house and arrested people. It was very scary. My elder sisters were members not only of the UYW, but also of the Bulgarian Communist Party 19. My youngest sister, who was 13 then, wore a scarf with illegal documents hidden under it. She was allowed to pass through the blockades and carried the documents to the address she was told. Most of the materials were against the deportation of Jews. The blockade continued for more than 24 hours: it was very scary. Policemen entered every house, threw everything out of the wardrobes looking for illegal literature, and beat the people. They also came to our house but found nothing. My sister carried out some of the materials and the others were put in a hiding place made by my mother. Our toilet was in the yard and my mother had taken out two of the bricks and put the materials behind them. My mother wasn’t a member of the Bulgarian Communist Party but sympathized with them and looked after us.

When we were allowed to go out of the neighborhood, it was 26th or 27th May and the internment started at the beginning of June. At that time the situation in Iuchbunar became unbearable. Everyone took out their belongings and tried to sell them: cookers, wardrobes, chairs, tables, etc. We weren’t told yet when we would be interned and how much luggage we could take but we knew that we wouldn’t be allowed to take furniture and most of our belongings. Everyone received orders for different dates, but we all knew that we were going. Then most of the younger Jews joined the partisans. The market on the streets was something incredible as all furniture and goods were sold at absurdly low prices. There were many buyers because everyone could enter Iuchbunar: it wasn’t a ghetto. When our internment order came, I don’t remember the date, but it must have been in the middle of June, we had two to three bags of clothes, we didn’t have many belongings. My mother insisted on taking the sewing machine, because she hoped to earn a living with it.

We were first interned to Stara Zagora. Our gathering point was at the station. We got on the trains which were very dirty, and crowded with people, but we reached Stara Zagora. We were worried for my elder sister who was married and had a child but hadn’t received an internment order yet. And we did something, I don’t remember what, and she came with us to Stara Zagora. In Stara Zagora we got out of the trains carrying our clothes and were taken to a school. There we were accommodated in the classrooms. The desks had been taken out. My mother had a blanket, as did the other families. She put it on the floor and all of us sat in the middle of it. That was our bedroom, living-room and dining-room. My elder sister and her husband were with us. We spent about a month in the school, then we rented a room owned by a Bulgarian railway man: he was a wonderful man. I don’t remember the address, or its location. We were there for about ten days. The yard was very nice and cozy and we all lived in one room. At that time people in Stara Zagora treated Jews very kindly.

Then we were interned again because there were some kinds of military facilities in Stara Zagora or something of the kind. We had to go to the town of Ferdinand [now Montana]. Once again we got on a train and traveled for a long time. We passed through Sofia. Something very dramatic happened here. My sisters Raina and Sofka had some friends: Armenian brothers, who lived near the station. When we reached Sofia, our wagon stopped far away from the station and we didn’t know when we would leave for Ferdinand. Both my sisters decided, although the train was guarded, to fool the guards and visit their friends. I can’t describe how worried my mother was before they left. She behaved as if she would never see them again. She asked them not to go, she cried, but they left. They had managed to fool the guards. Later, they told us that the mother of the brothers gave them food, because they were hungry. And the people at the station were already telling us that the train was about to leave. But my sisters were nowhere to be seen. My mother was hysterical with worry. And at the last second they appeared! We got on the train and arrived in Ferdinand. There we were once again taken to a school and lived in it for two or three months. We had very little money, which we had saved from the sale of the furniture. But even one loaf of bread was enough for us.

Then we rented a room in the ghetto which they had prepared for us. This was a residential district with specific borders. We weren’t allowed to leave it, but the Bulgarians could enter it, because some Bulgarians also lived there. Our landlady was Dafinka, a widow with two sons. One of them was Mitko and the other, Goshko. Mitko was in the military police and fought against the partisans and terrorists. Goshko hadn’t done his military service yet. We lived in the basement: a room with a small corridor. The landlady gave us an iron stove and we used it to warm the room. She was also a poor woman, but helped us with what she could. She even found a bed, although it wasn’t big enough for everybody; the others slept on the ground. We paid her some rent just like we did in Stara Zagora.

The Jewish synagogue was also in that neighborhood: it was small and had a small yard. There was a canteen there, where we went to get food: mostly beans without any meat. The beans were just boiled. We went there and took food for six people. It was free of charge. The Jewish municipality didn’t have money for anything else. I remember a story, both sad and hilarious. There was an old man, who had a great sense of humor and he would always happen to be in front of us in the queue. When he would come out, everyone asked him what the food was this time. And the old man would answer seriously, ‘Kaldiko di poyu,’ which means chicken soup [Ladino]. And we all laughed and knew that meant beans again. But the man cheered us up a bit.

Then we ran out of money. We didn’t receive rations, everything was rationed then, and we had no more money. That happened in fall 1943. My sister Raina, who was a hairdresser, found a job at a salon. It was on a street on the border between the ghetto and the rest of the city. The border passed along the middle of the street, and the salon was on the other side: outside the ghetto. But she took the risk, because if you were caught, you could be arrested as I had been at least ten times. So, my sister went to work and didn’t go out the whole day. She was paid very little, but it was something. The owner of the salon was a Bulgarian, but kept her because she worked very well and a lot of people from Sofia were interned to Ferdinand and they wanted good service.

My other sister, Sofka also found a job, but as a bookbinder. The bookstore she worked for was exactly on the border. The owner of the bookstore was Panaiot: a Bulgarian. It was also a publishing house and issued the newspaper ‘Nov Zhivot’ [New Life: weekly containing local news and announcements]. He also liked her work and looked after her. One day she told him, ‘Listen, Panaiote, I’ll keep coming, but I would also like you to employ my sister,’ who was me. ‘What will she do?’ he asked. ‘When necessary, she will help me and the rest of time she will be a shop assistant in the bookstore,’ she said. The bookstore sold not only notebooks, pencils and books, but also clarinet caps and such small items which were bought by people from the nearby villages. Every Monday the bookstore was crowded with customers, because it was the market day in Ferdinand. Panaiot agreed to employ me.

I had to wear my Jewish star here as well. I always put it on the collar of my shirt so that it could be seen when I put on my apron. But there was an agent of State Security Service – Kosta, who lived a few blocks from the bookstore and had decided to harass me. When a lot of people came into the bookstore, usually on Mondays, when I would bend down to lift something and my star couldn’t be seen, I would see Kosta at the door. He would hide and watch me and always appear at such a moment. And since the bookstore was crowded, I couldn’t see him. Panaiot would be at the cashier desk and Kosta would ask him loudly, ‘Panaiot, who’s that over there?’ Then I would realize that my star couldn’t be seen and put it right. And Kosta would say, ‘Spare me your tricks! Why are you hiding your star?’ And my boss, who was a noble man, but sickly, would say, ‘Kosta, please, let her be, look how crowded it is in here!’ Kosta always did it on Mondays when it was full of people. ‘No, she’ll come with me to the police station,’ Kosta would say.

That was the paradox: Kosta was only looking for a reason to arrest me and exercise his authority while also receiving a bribe. So, he would arrest me. And why was I arrested? So that Panaiot would go and pay some money to release me. I was taken to the police station, stayed there for a couple of hours, then Panaiot would come, pay ten levs and take me with him. Kosta did the same thing when I would go to post some letters on the other side of the street because the mailboxes were there. I sent letters to my friends who had been interned to other towns. I don’t know if Kosta treated the other Jews the same way, but he always did that to me. He picked on my sister too, although more rarely, because she worked inside the building. But he knew me very well, because I was in the bookstore.

The sons of our landlady treated us very differently. There were very nice boys, although one of them served in the military police as a conscript. He helped me once. Goshko, the younger one, also helped us a lot. We weren’t allowed to go to the market and we had no rations. So my mother asked him to buy us at least one bottle of oil from the black market. And when we took the beans soup from the synagogue, she would fry it a bit to make it tastier. The boy helped us: went to the market, found something and bought it for us. In the ghetto we were also allowed to go out of our homes, but for only two hours a day: between 9am and 11am. I would run away and go to work. So, I was also arrested. It was very difficult. We also had to take our food from the synagogue during those two hours. But the people around us helped us as much as they could.

Raina’s boyfriend was in a labor camp 20, but he was released and they got married in Ruse, where he had been interned with his parents. None of us attended the wedding because it was far and we had no money. Sofka got married in Vratsa, which was closer and got special permission from the police station to marry her Jewish boyfriend. My mother wasn’t allowed to go for her daughter’s wedding, nor was anyone else. But I decided to go illegally: that was in spring 1944. I hid my star and went to the train. I had to go to the station first. And as hard as I tried to hide, I saw an agent: Milcho. He was also another civil agent of the State Security Service in the town. Milcho was a group leader, Kosta’s boss. They were civil agents, but we knew them, because they always arrested us for stupid things. I saw him and froze, because I thought that he would arrest me now and nobody would know: neither my mother, nor my sisters. At that time, fortunately for me, I saw Mitko at the station. He was coming home on leave. The military police had a bad name because they made a lot of arrests, but he was a very nice boy. He was just conscripted in these forces. I saw him and called him quietly, ‘Mitko, Mitko!’ He came and asked me what the matter was. I explained to him and said, ‘Milcho is here. Tell me, please, which train to get on.’ I couldn’t go to the platform without knowing which train to catch to Vratsa. He bought me a ticket, gave it to me, took my small suitcase and told me, ‘Watch where I’m going. I’ll leave your suitcase at the door of your train. And when you hear the announcement that the train to Vratsa is leaving, run for the train.’ And so I did.

I saw which wagon he entered, he waved to me, I saw where he stopped and when I heard that the train for Vratsa was leaving in two minutes I ran for the train, entered the wagon and hid there. I saw Milcho walking along the platform near the train. He had spotted me once earlier but had lost me. He didn’t know where I was. He got on the same train. And what chaos there was in there! He passed nearby and I entered the toilet. When the train stopped I got off and waited on the platform. At the last minute I got on again and we traveled to Mezdra. He had been looking for me, but he didn’t know if I was still on the train. At some point Mitko appeared again: he was in the same train because he was traveling to Sofia and he said, ‘I’ll find out where Milcho is going and tell you.’

Fortunately, the agent was traveling to Lom or Vidin and caught another train in Mezdra. So, I could relax a bit. I stayed for five or six days in Varna at my sister’s house. The wedding had already taken place, I saw that she was well but I was wondering how to get home. I was afraid of what would happen if I met Milcho again on the train. There would be no one to help me. So I decided that in Mezdra I would go out on the platform and look around for him. When I arrived in Ferdinand, although I hadn’t seen him, I was afraid that he would be waiting for me at the station or that he would have sent someone else to wait for me. So when the train slowed down before reaching the station, I threw my suitcase and jumped out of the train.

After the War

On 9th September 1944 21 the old government was overthrown. Around 20th September we decided to go back to Sofia. We boarded a train and returned. As far as I remember Sofka was the first to return and rented a house for us on 51 Sofronii Street. It had a yard and a couple of stairs which led to the house. It had a small corridor and two rooms. The toilet was outside, but there was a sink inside and a small kitchen, which you entered from the corridor. Sofka lived in one of the rooms and the rest of us lived in the other. We had no belongings. At first we slept on the floor. Someone gave us plank beds. We all slept on one plank bed: my mother and my sisters. When we returned after the internment, we had nothing and we had to find some work. Our identity cards had been changed again and we had our old names back. Since I was a member of the UYW, I was invited to start work at the Ministry of Internal Affairs. I worked as a clerk for a short time. We didn’t receive money in the first few months, but there was a dining-room where we received food and rations. I carried them home for the others.

My sister Rashel went to work as a babysitter in a Jewish family. The family was rich. Their family name was Arie and they gave her clothes, money or food. She brought everything home. My mother no longer sewed because there were no orders. We lived like that until I started work at the editor’s office of the newspaper ‘Narodna Mladezh’ 22. This happened in 1950. I was the secretary of the editor-in-chief. Then I was office manager. I had started studying in an evening high school so I finished my secondary education before I started work at the newspaper. I worked there until 1959. I was already a member of the Bulgarian Communist Party. Before the newspaper I worked for a short time in the Committee of Science, Arts and Culture in the personnel department and also in the publishing house ‘Medicine and Physical Education.’ I also worked for a short time with Radio Sofia as a program dispatcher.

I knew my husband, David Levi, from early on, because he was a famous illegal activist and a lot of people knew who he was. He had been imprisoned for a long time and I knew about him although we had never met. He was born in Sofia and arrested here. He was sent to the Sofia prison, then to the Varna one and then to the Burgas one. He also worked in the Jewish labor camps. He was sentenced to ten years imprisonment for UYW activities. We met at the Ministry of Internal Affairs. We fell passionately in love and got married on 19th January 1947. We had nowhere to live together, so I lived at my mother’s and he lived at his parents’ house. We met in the parks. David was a great sportsman, a tourist: we went to the Vitosha Mountain and to other mountains as well. From time to time we went to his parents’ house; there was a small room there: they slept on some kind of panel beds, I don’t know how they had managed to preserve them. And there was a couch at the foot of the bed where we slept.

We lived like that until 1948 when we were given a room in the big apartment of the Kulevi family. [Editor’s note: In the communist regime families of workers were accommodated in the larger apartments of the higher classes. Often a number of families had to share one apartment, each of them occupying one room but sharing the kitchen and bathroom.]

The man in the family had been a producer of enamelware and his wife was German. After 9th September 1944 he had run away and his wife remained here. She was about to leave, but one of the rooms in her apartment had been nationalized and given to us. I remember that we lived there for a very short time, because Kuleva was leaving and someone else wanted the whole apartment for himself. They told me that we had to leave because some prosecutor was going to live here. My husband got so angry that he said, ‘I’ll not leave this apartment, let them throw my baggage away and if Georgi Dimitrov 23 passes by and asks whose this baggage is, they will have to tell him: it’s Dick’s baggage outside!’ You can see how naive we were at that time. He still worked for the Ministry of Internal Affairs, he was there until 1949. After all we were given two rooms to rent in a bigger apartment on Hristo Botev Street, but this time his parents also came to live there. There were two more rooms where other families lived.

My daughter, Sima Davidova Evtimova [nee Levi], was born in 1949. She graduated in Spanish Philology, lives in Bulgaria, but is unemployed now. She is married to a Bulgarian and has two children: Alexander, who is 28 years old, and Adelina, who is 23. My grandson has a degree in management and works for his father and my granddaughter has a degree in computer graphics and photography. After the Ministry for Internal Affairs my husband started working for the ‘Trud’ 24 newspaper and then for the magazine ‘Balgarski Profsaiuzi’ [Bulgarian Trade Unions]. He had a degree from the Higher Party School 25.

In 1959 I went to work for the new newspaper ‘Literaturni Novini’ 26. I was once again secretary there and I worked there until 1964. Then I went to the publishing house ‘Tehnika’ [‘Technic’: specialized in publishing technical and popular scientific literature] where I worked until I retired. At all the places I had worked nobody treated me badly because I was a Jew except when we worked for the Ministry of Internal Affairs from which we were fired for that reason. Not because we were Jews, but because we had relatives in a western country. [Regardless of geographical location all non-Soviet Block countries, including Israel, were considered ‘Western,’ meaning capitalistic, before 1989.]

We lived with my husband’s parents. They observed some traditions, but we didn’t and neither did our daughter. We observed very few of the rituals. We didn’t pray, nor go to the synagogue. We married only before the registrar. We settled in our present home in 1968. My husband’s parents lived in one of the rooms, my husband and I in the other and my daughter in the living-room. Six months after we moved, my father-in-law died and when my daughter got married she lived here with her husband. In 1976 my grandson was born and my mother-in-law died in 1978. It was always very crowded at home.

Now I live alone: from time to time my grandchildren visit me but they live in Dragalevtsi [a village near Sofia, at the foot of the Vitosha Mountain]. My husband died on 6th May 1993, but he was very sick for the last twelve years of his life: he was on hemodialysis. I looked after him, there was no other way. He went to have hemodialysis three times a week, and I took him there and back. My daughter lived here and a year before my husband died we bought a small apartment in the neighboring surroundings. We went to live there and my daughter remained here with the children. But my husband was sick, very sick.

Now I have many friends whom I know and who are very close to me. But I gather mostly with the women. We are around 14. They are colleagues of mine from the places I had worked. From time to time we also invite some of our male colleagues. There are two other Jewish women among us, but all the others are Bulgarians. I get along perfectly well with all of them: we love each other a lot. On Saturdays I go to the Jewish Home [see Bet Am] 27, where I’m a member of the ‘Golden Age’ club: it’s for Jews only. I also have friends there. All of my parents’ relatives have passed away. When I went to Israel I visited those who were alive. I went six or seven times to Israel. I still keep in touch with my sisters.

I didn’t think about leaving for Israel but my sisters, who were married and whose relatives were leaving, also had to leave. The boyfriend of my younger sister, Mimi, had to leave with his parents; his sister was already there. So, Mimi married him and immigrated. My other sister, Rashel, was already married and since her husband was leaving with his mother and his father had already died, she also immigrated. Now during the second mass aliyah six or seven years ago my sister Sofka also immigrated [see Severing the diplomatic ties between the Eastern Block and Israel] 28. My husband and I didn’t think about immigrating, but we always felt something pull us towards Israel and my husband went there every year. We didn’t immigrate because there was nothing we could do there. We didn’t expect to find work there.

We weren’t particularly well-off after 1950. We lived a normal life and went on holidays to the mountains, to rest homes. So, we weren’t rich, but not poor either. I was very scared by the wars in Israel in 1967 [see Six-Day-War] 29 and in 1973 [see Yom Kippur War] 30 and especially when the Six-Day-War started. At that time my mother, mother-in-law and my father-in-law were in Israel on a visit. And they hurriedly came back: they boarded a ship, because there were no planes at that time. My husband and I went to Varna to meet them and they were absolutely exhausted when they arrived. They needed a whole day to recover. We were badly affected by the disconnection of the diplomatic ties with Israel because we had a lot of relatives there whom we visited every year. Especially with my younger sister, who traveled to international youth festivals and always passed via Bulgaria. Her husband was a conductor and took part in choirs and youth festivals. My sister was a singer in a choir and they almost always passed via Bulgaria to visit us.

Otherwise, we had no problems to visit Israel even when the diplomatic relations with Israel were banned. The Netherlands was representing the interests in Israel in Bulgaria and their embassy issued the necessary documents. It wasn’t a problem to get a visa for Israel if you could prove that you had relatives there, except if your whole family was leaving with you. The condition in Bulgaria for traveling to the so-called ‘capitalist countries’ was to leave a member of the family behind: if the child went somewhere, the parents had to stay, and if the parents left, the children had to stay. The aim wasn’t to allow families to emigrate. I have been there four or five times. Once I also took my daughter who was 13 or 14 years old. I had a feeling that I had been denied a promotion at work for being a Jew, not only when I worked for the Ministry of Internal Affairs, but later on too. But no one said anything.

I kept in touch with my relatives, we wrote letters to each other and spoke on the phone, which was a luxury then. They called more often. I remember that one of the times my sister and her husband were passing via Bulgaria to go to a Romanian festival, and they called to tell us that they wouldn’t pass through Sofia, but through Gorna Oriahovitsa. They asked our mother to go and see them there. My mother was very worried there because she couldn’t find them on the platform. They were in a special wagon and weren’t allowed to go to Sofia. Those were special festival wagons. They weren’t much different from the others, but they were only for the participants in the festival and no other passengers traveled in them. There was some kind of problem and my husband took my mother home. At that time Ivan Bashev was in charge of the Bulgarian representatives in the festival and I was his secretary in ‘Narodna Mladezh.’ Later, he became Foreign Minister. So we called him and he did everything possible to find my sister in Romania and put her through to my mother so that at least they could speak on the phone.

The democracy in Bulgaria after 1989 [see 10th November 1989] 31 affected me very badly. If it hadn’t been so I would have visited Israel more times. Until 1993 I was thinking only about my husband. There were problems with his medicines. After that I went twice to Israel but my relatives paid for my expenses. Now I visit the Jewish community. I’m very happy there because I meet with people. And at that age I need contacts because I live alone. I went only twice to the synagogue: to see it restored and on a holiday to see how they celebrate it. Now I don’t receive financial aid. Some time ago we received 10-15 levs [around 10 USD] every month depending on the pension. I think that representatives of Joint 32 visited us. Now such aid is given only to the people with very small pensions. We receive a tranche of 500 dollars or something like that but I don’t know from where.

Glossary

1 Expulsion of the Jews from Spain

The Sephardi population of the Balkans originates from the Jews who were expelled from the Iberian peninsula, as a result of the ‘Reconquista’ in the late 15th century (Spain 1492, and Portugal 1495). The majority of the Sephardim subsequently settled in the territory of the Ottoman Empire, mainly in maritime cities (Salonika, Istanbul, Smyrna, etc.) and also in the ones situated on significant overland trading routes to Central Europe (Bitola, Skopje, and Sarajevo) and to the Danube (Adrianople, Philipopolis, Sofia, and Vidin).

2 Sephardi Jewry

Jews of Spanish and Portuguese origin. Their ancestors settled down in North Africa, the Ottoman Empire, South America, Italy and the Netherlands after they had been driven out from the Iberian Peninsula at the end of the 15th century. About 250,000 Jews left Spain and Portugal on this occasion. A distant group among Sephardi refugees were the Crypto-Jews (Marranos), who converted to Christianity under the pressure of the Inquisition but at the first occasion reassumed their Jewish identity. Sephardi preserved their community identity; they speak Ladino language in their communities up until today. The Jewish nation is formed by two main groups: the Ashkenazi and the Sephardi group which differ in habits, liturgy their relation toward Kabala, pronunciation as well in their philosophy.

3 Iuchbunar

The poorest residential district in Sofia; the word is of Turkish origin and means ‘the three wells’.

4 Great Synagogue

Located in the center of Sofia, it is the third largest synagogue in Europe after the ones in Budapest and Amsterdam; it can house more than 1,300 people. It was designed by Austrian architect Grunander in the Moor style. It was opened on 9th September 1909 in the presence of King Ferdinand and Queen Eleonora.

5 Iuchbunar synagogue

Iuchbunar is a housing district in Sofia with a large Jewish population. At the time Sofia was declared capital of the Kingdom of Bulgaria on 3rd April 1878 the town was around 20 000 people, of whom around 1 800 were Jews. That is why, there were around 10 synagogues located in areas with large Jewish population. The synagogue in Iuchbunar existed until 1944. The largest of all Sofia synagogues is the Central [Great] Synagogue built in 1909 by the design of the Austrian architect Grunanger. It is located in the center of Sofia and still exists today.

6 Jewish schools in Sofia

In the 19th century gradually the obligatory religious education was replaced with a secular one, which around 1870 in Bulgaria was linked to the organization Alliance Israelite Universelle. The organization was founded by the distinguished French statesman Adolphe Crémieux with the goal of popularizing French language and culture among Jews in the Ottoman Empire (of which Bulgaria was also part until 1878). From 1870 until 1900 Alliance Israelite played a positive role in the process of founding Jewish schools in Bulgaria. According to the bulletin of the organization, statistics about Jewish schools showed the date of the foundation of every Jewish school and its town. Two Jewish schools were founded in Sofia by the Alliance Israelite Universelle in 1887 and 1896. The first one was almost in the center of Sofia between the streets Kaloyan, Lege and Alabin, and in the urban development plan it was noted down as a ‘Jewish school.’ The second one, opened in the Sofia residential estate Iuchbunar, had the unofficial name ‘Iuchbunar Jewish school.’ The synagogue in that estate was called the same way. School affairs were run by the Jewish school boards (Komite Skoler), which were separated from the Jewish municipalities and consisted of Bulgarian citizens, selected by all the Jews by an anonymous vote. The documents on the Jewish municipalities preserved from the beginning of the 20th century emphasize that the school boards were separated from the synagogue ones. A retrospective look at the activity of the Jewish municipalities in Bulgaria at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th century indicates only that the education of all Jewish boys had to be obligatory and that there was a school at every synagogue. In 1891 the Bulgarian Parliament passed a law on education, according to which all Bulgarian citizens, regardless of religious groups were supposed to receive their education in Bulgarian. The previously existing French language Alliance Israelite Universelle schools were not closed, yet their activities were regulated and they were forced to incorporate the teaching of Bulgarian into their schedule. Currently the only Jewish school in Bulgaria is 134th school ‘Dimcho Debelyanov’ in Sofia. It has the statute of a high school since 2003. It is supported by the Ronald S. Lauder Foundation and AJJDC. It is among the elite schools in Bulgaria and its students learning Hebrew are both Jews and Bulgarians.

7 Jewish orphanage ‘Queen Eleonore’

founded in 1915 by Queen Eleonore, the wife of King Ferdinand (1861-1948) for Jewish orphans, whose fathers perished or were seriously wounded in the two Balkan Wars (1912-13), hence the name. Under the Law for the Protection of the Nation a moratorium was imposed in 1941 on the activity of all Jewish trade, cultural, educational and charity associations as well as on those associations founded by Bulgarians but including Jews. The Jewish orphanage ‘Queen Eleonora’ stopped its activities in 1942. There is no information about it being restored after 1944.

8 Chifuti

Derogatory nickname for Jews in Bulgarian.

9 Internment of Jews in Bulgaria

Although Jews living in Bulgaria where not deported to concentration camps abroad or to death camps, many were interned to different locations within Bulgaria. In accordance with the Law for the Protection of the Nation, the comprehensive anti-Jewish legislation initiated after the outbreak of WWII, males were sent to forced labor battalions in different locations of the country, and had to engage in hard work. There were plans to deport Bulgarian Jews to Nazi Death Camps, but these plans were not realized. Preparations had been made at certain points along the Danube, such as at Somovit and Lom. In fact, in 1943 the port at Lom was used to deport Jews from Aegean Thrace and from Macedonia, but in the end, the Jews from Bulgaria proper were spared.

10 Law for the Protection of the Nation

A comprehensive anti-Jewish legislation in Bulgaria was introduced after the outbreak of World War II. The ‘Law for the Protection of the Nation’ was officially promulgated in January 1941. According to this law, Jews did not have the right to own shops and factories. Jews had to wear the distinctive yellow star; Jewish houses had to display a special sign identifying it as being Jewish; Jews were dismissed from all posts in schools and universities. The internment of Jews in certain designated towns was legalized and all Jews were expelled from Sofia in 1943. Jews were only allowed to go out into the streets for one or two hours a day. They were prohibited from using the main streets, from entering certain business establishments, and from attending places of entertainment. Their radios, automobiles, bicycles and other valuables were confiscated. From 1941 on Jewish males were sent to forced labor battalions and ordered to do extremely hard work in mountains, forests and road construction. In the Bulgarian-occupied Yugoslav (Macedonia) and Greek (Aegean Thrace) territories the Bulgarian army and administration introduced extreme measures. The Jews from these areas were deported to concentration camps, while the plans for the deportation of Jews from Bulgaria proper were halted by a protest movement launched by the vice-chairman of the Bulgarian Parliament.

11 Yellow star in Bulgaria

According to a governmental decree all Bulgarian Jews were forced to wear distinctive yellow stars after 24th September 1942. Contrary to the German-occupied countries the stars in Bulgaria were made of yellow plastic or textile and were also smaller. Volunteers in previous wars, the war-disabled, orphans and widows of victims of wars, and those awarded the military cross were given the privilege to wear the star in the form of a button. Jews who converted to Christianity and their families were totally exempt. The discriminatory measures and persecutions ended with the cancellation of the Law for the Protection of the Nation on 17th August 1944.

12 Forced name change during Holocaust

in accordance with а clause of the Law for the Protection of the Nation voted on 24th December 1940, as well as Decree 192/29th August 1942, all Jewish names ending with -ov, -ev and -ich were changed. According to the requirements first names mostly of Ashkenazi Jews were also changed.

13 24th May 1943

Protest by a group of members of parliament led by the deputy chairman of the National Assembly, Dimitar Peshev, as well as a large section of Bulgarian society. They protested against the deportation of the Jews, which culminated in a great demonstration on 24th May 1943. Thousands of people led by members of parliament, the Eastern Orthodox Church and political parties stood up against the deportation of Bulgarian Jews. Although there was no official law preventing deportation, Bulgarian Jews were saved, unlike those from Bulgarian occupied Aegean Thrace and Macedonia.

14 Hashomer Hatzair in Bulgaria

‘The Young Watchman’; A Zionist-socialist pioneering movement established in Bulgaria in 1932, Hashomer Hatzair trained youth for kibbutz life and set up kibbutzim in Palestine. During World War II, members were sent to Nazi-occupied areas and became leaders in Jewish resistance groups. After the war, Hashomer Hatzair was active in ‘illegal’ immigration to Palestine.

15 Maccabi World Union

International Jewish sports organization whose origins go back to the end of the 19th century. A growing number of young Eastern European Jews involved in Zionism felt that one essential prerequisite of the establishment of a national home in Palestine was the improvement of the physical condition and training of ghetto youth. In order to achieve this, gymnastics clubs were founded in many Eastern and Central European countries, which later came to be called Maccabi. The movement soon spread to more countries in Europe and to Palestine. The World Maccabi Union was formed in 1921. In less than two decades its membership was estimated at 200,000 with branches located in most countries of Europe and in Palestine, Australia, South America, South Africa, etc.

16 UYW

The Union of Young Workers (also called Revolutionary Youth Union). A communist youth organization, which was legally established in 1928 as a sub-organization of the Bulgarian Communist Youth Union (BCYU). After the coup d’etat in 1934, when parties in Bulgaria were banned, it went underground and became the strongest wing of the BCYU. Some 70% of the partisans in Bulgaria were members of it. In 1947 it was renamed Dimitrov’s Communist Youth Union, after Georgi Dimitrov, the leader of the Bulgarian Communist Party at the time.

17 Daniel Zion

Rabbi in the Sofia synagogue and President of the Israeli Spiritual Council, participant in procession on 24th May 1943.

18 King Boris III

The Third Bulgarian Kingdom was a constitutional monarchy with democratic constitution. Although pro-German, Bulgaria did not take part in World War II with its armed forces. King Boris III (who reigned from 1918-1943) joined the Axis to prevent an imminent German invasion in Bulgaria, but he refused to send Bulgarian troops to German aid on the Eastern front. He died suddenly after a meeting with Hitler and there have been speculations that he was actually poisoned by the Nazi dictator who wanted a more obedient Bulgaria. Many Bulgarian Jews saved from the Holocaust (over 50,000 people) regard King Boris III as their savior.

19 Bulgarian Communist Party

a new party founded in April 1990 and initially named Party of the Working People. At an internal party referendum in the spring of 1990 the name of the ruling Bulgarian Communist Party (BCP) was changed to Bulgarian Socialist Party (BSP). The more hard-line Party of the Working People then took over the name Bulgarian Communist Party. The majority of the members are Marxist-oriented old time BCP members.

20 Forced labor camps in Bulgaria

Established under the Council of Ministers’ Act in 1941. All Jewish men between the ages of 18–50, eligible for military service, were called up. In these labor groups Jewish men were forced to work 7-8 months a year on different road constructions under very hard living and working conditions.

21 9th September 1944

The day of the communist takeover in Bulgaria. In September 1944 the Soviet Union declared war on Bulgaria. On 9th September 1944 the Fatherland Front, a broad left-wing coalition, deposed the government. Although the communists were in the minority in the Fatherland Front, they were the driving force in forming the coalition, and their position was strengthened by the presence of the Red Army in Bulgaria.

22 Narodna Mladezh

lit. People’s Youth, a Bulgarian communist youth newspaper, first published in 1944. Initially it was published by the Central Committee of the Dimitrov Communist Youth Union, later by the Fatherland youth and then the Central Committee of the Union of the People’s Youth. In 1948 it became a daily, aiming to unite the Bulgarian youth ideologically. After the political changes in 1989 it ceased publication.

23 Dimitrov, Georgi (1882-1949)

A Bulgarian revolutionary, who was the head of the Comintern from 1936 through its dissolution in 1943, secretary general of the Bulgarian Communist Party from 1945 to 1949, and prime minister of Bulgaria from 1946 to 1949. He rose to international fame as the principal defendant in the Leipzig Fire Trial in 1933. Dimitrov put up such a consummate defense that the judicial authorities had to release him.

24 Trud

Maining Labor, it is a Bulgarian national daily paper, today published by ‘Media Holding’. Its first publication was in 1946 and until 1990 it was the official organ of the Central Council of the Bulgarian Trade Unions. From 1990 to 1991 due to the democratic changes and the disintegration of the state organizations the newspaper was a body of the Confederation of Independent Syndicates in Bulgaria. In 1994 it began to be published under the name ‘Dneven Trud’ (Daily Labor).

25 Party Schools

They were established after the Revolution of 1917 in Russia, in different levels, with the purpose of training communist cadres and activists. Subjects such as ‘scientific socialism’ (Marxist-Leninist Philosophy) and ‘political economics’ besides various other political disciplines were taught there. After World War II such institutions were established throughout the Soviet-dominated Eastern European countries.

26 Literaturni Novini

Literarian News, it was a Bulgarian journal first published in Sofia in 1927-28  by the publishing house ‘Iv. G. Ignatov and sons’. It published articles on linguistics, cinema studies, theater, archeology, literature, artists' portraits, documents, fiction (translated and original). In 1941-44 a biweekly was published in Varna by the same name, focusing on  literature, art, science and social life. It united a variety of authors, mainly from the countryside. At first it was left-oriented, but after 1942 it became right-oriented. Literarni Novini was also an information weekly published in Sofia from 1961 to 1964 as a body of the Ministry of Education and Culture. It published works by Bulgarian and foreign authors.

27 Bet Am

The Jewish center in Sofia today, housing all Jewish organizations.

28 Severing the diplomatic ties between the Eastern Block and Israel

After the 1967 Six-Day-War, the Soviet Union cut all diplomatic ties with Israel, under the pretext of Israel being the aggressor and the neighboring Arab states the victims of Israeli imperialism. The Soviet-occupied Eastern European countries (Eastern Germany, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary and Bulgaria) conformed to the verdict of the Kremlin and followed the Soviet example. Diplomatic relations between Israel and the ex-Communist countries resumed after the fall of communism.

29 Six-Day-War

The first strikes of the Six-Day-War happened on 5th June 1967 by the Israeli Air Force. The entire war only lasted 132 hours and 30 minutes. The fighting on the Egyptian side only lasted four days, while fighting on the Jordanian side lasted three. Despite the short length of the war, this was one of the most dramatic and devastating wars ever fought between Israel and all of the Arab nations. This war resulted in a depression that lasted for many years after it ended. The Six-Day-War increased tension between the Arab nations and the Western World because of the change in mentalities and political orientations of the Arab nations.

30 Yom Kippur War

The Arab-Israeli War of 1973, also known as the Yom Kippur War or the Ramadan War, was a war between Israel on one side and Egypt and Syria on the other side. It was the fourth major military confrontation between Israel and the Arab states. The war lasted for three weeks: it started on 6th October 1973 and ended on 22nd October on the Syrian front and on 26th October on the Egyptian front.

31 10th November 1989

After 35 years of rule, Communist Party leader Todor Zhivkov was replaced by the hitherto Prime Minister Peter Mladenov who changed the Bulgarian Communist Party’s name to Socialist Party. On 17th November 1989 Mladenov became head of state, as successor of Zhivkov. Massive opposition demonstrations in Sofia with hundreds of thousands of participants calling for democratic reforms followed from 18th November to December 1989. On 7th December the ‘Union of Democratic Forces’ (SDS) was formed consisting of different political organizations and groups.

32 Joint (American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee)

The Joint was formed in 1914 with the fusion of three American Jewish aid committees, which were alarmed by the suffering of Jews during World War I. In late 1944, the Joint entered Europe’s liberated areas and organized a massive relief operation. It provided food for Jewish survivors all over Europe, it supplied clothing, books and school supplies for children. It supported the establishment of cultural meeting places, including libraries, theaters and gardens. It also provided religious supplies for the Jewish communities. The Joint also operated DP camps, in which it organized retraining programs to help people learn trades that would enable them to earn a living, while its cultural and religious activities helped re-establish Jewish life. The Joint was also closely involved in helping Jews to emigrate from European and Muslim countries. The Joint was expelled from East Central Europe for decades during the Cold War and it has only come back to many of these countries after the fall of communism. Today the Joint provides social welfare programs for elderly Holocaust survivors and encourages Jewish renewal and communal development.
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