Pincu, my brother, finished the polytechnic institute in Iassy. He is an engineer.
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Rosa Kaiserman
My parents would go together to the cinema. Until the television appeared on the market the cinema was the only amusement. They didn’t have television in the house. Everybody went to the movies. The movie theaters were always overcrowded. We queued for tickets, we sat sometimes on the ground, or on the stairs, because we couldn’t get a chair.
My father worked after the war too. He administered a building. Thanks to my brother, who got him on a building yard, where he was some kind of keeper. When he turned 60 they weren’t allowed to have him there anymore. He retired with 15 years of work.
That many years could he gather from the documents. After loosing the money from the businesshe had, he was hired as a bookkeeper in a factory and could gather some 15 years from there. So he had a small pension, but it was good he had one atall.
That many years could he gather from the documents. After loosing the money from the businesshe had, he was hired as a bookkeeper in a factory and could gather some 15 years from there. So he had a small pension, but it was good he had one atall.
Romania
After ten years [beginning with 1959], I got a job aslibrarian and worked in different schools in Iassy. I got along well with my colleagues, with the whole staff. Even today there are persons, who recognize me and great me: former pupils, former colleagues, teachers.
I was a librarian at School nr. 12, today it is called the School nr. 33. It wasn’t far from the town center. Back thenit was an experimental school, because there were differentprofessors for each subject even in the primary school. They were very good professors, it was a so-called special school.
But eventually it didn’t work and they changed the system to the old one with only one teacher for one class. A teacher has a different kind of trainingand she knows how to hold the hand of the pupil when teaching him to write.
At this school we had an extraordinary headmistress. Badrajean Elena was her name. She used to organize now and then a party. We also used to celebrate birthdays and name days, Saint John, Saint Mary – but they didn’t call it Saint – New Years Eve, Christmas Tree.
Everyone would bring something delicious, and we ate together. Despite the general need. The headmistress would ask: “What can you bring?” “You are going to bring sausage” – which you could hardly get. “You bring horse radish. You make boeuf salad.” Every lady wanted to show that she was a good housewife. Cake would be made. It was a wonderful time of my life. The rest of it was unfortunately spent waiting in the line trying to buy something to eat.
My colleague Olguta and I were sent by the school inspectorate to take some specialized library courses in Bucharest. After our homecoming the Ministry of Education made it possible for us to teachotherslibrary courses in the whole region of Moldavia. I retired in 1983.
I was a librarian at School nr. 12, today it is called the School nr. 33. It wasn’t far from the town center. Back thenit was an experimental school, because there were differentprofessors for each subject even in the primary school. They were very good professors, it was a so-called special school.
But eventually it didn’t work and they changed the system to the old one with only one teacher for one class. A teacher has a different kind of trainingand she knows how to hold the hand of the pupil when teaching him to write.
At this school we had an extraordinary headmistress. Badrajean Elena was her name. She used to organize now and then a party. We also used to celebrate birthdays and name days, Saint John, Saint Mary – but they didn’t call it Saint – New Years Eve, Christmas Tree.
Everyone would bring something delicious, and we ate together. Despite the general need. The headmistress would ask: “What can you bring?” “You are going to bring sausage” – which you could hardly get. “You bring horse radish. You make boeuf salad.” Every lady wanted to show that she was a good housewife. Cake would be made. It was a wonderful time of my life. The rest of it was unfortunately spent waiting in the line trying to buy something to eat.
My colleague Olguta and I were sent by the school inspectorate to take some specialized library courses in Bucharest. After our homecoming the Ministry of Education made it possible for us to teachotherslibrary courses in the whole region of Moldavia. I retired in 1983.
After finishing high school I took some librarian courses. Actually there were different courses after the war so that people would learn a trade and work. And they worked. There were bookkeeping courses, and some others. I got in the librarian class – it was a coincidence.
I did the high school in the mean time. I applied for distance education, but you had to take some evening classes. It was a given number of hours and we went almost every evening to high school and had classes. There were colleagues of mine from the town hall, who didn’t finish their education and we went together. We formed a group, we befriended.
I finished high school after 1949. I had a maturity exam, it wasn’t called High School Baccalaureatewhen I finished school. I had on that time books translated from RussianthatI had to learn from:Mathematics, Physics, and Chemistry books.
Some of them were so badly translated, that you had to try very hard to understand, what you were reading. In my childhood [before WWII] there were more authors of schoolbooks. Every teacher had his own favoriteauthor and the beginning of school you got a list: for Mathematics author such-and-such, for Physics author such-and-suchetc. This was until 1948, when the international schoolbooks were introduced [11].
I finished high school after 1949. I had a maturity exam, it wasn’t called High School Baccalaureatewhen I finished school. I had on that time books translated from RussianthatI had to learn from:Mathematics, Physics, and Chemistry books.
Some of them were so badly translated, that you had to try very hard to understand, what you were reading. In my childhood [before WWII] there were more authors of schoolbooks. Every teacher had his own favoriteauthor and the beginning of school you got a list: for Mathematics author such-and-such, for Physics author such-and-suchetc. This was until 1948, when the international schoolbooks were introduced [11].
Everybody tried to learnsomethingafter the war, tried to make himselfa social status. Beginning with 1949 I started to work as a typist. I worked at the town hall – back then it was called the “Popular Council” –, we were there Jews and Romanians, we were like a family, we helped each other. I didn’t hate anybody and I wasn’t hated, on the contrary, I was welcomed and appreciated.
Nowit’s no longer worth knitting. But during Ceausescu’s [6] times all women knew how to knit. Because there weren’t any clothes. I knitted clothes for my nephew. I knitted for him trousers, shorties, caps, jackets.
I remember once being able to buy some scarves, I undid them and made a new jacket for me, one I used to go to work with. I got it cleaned every Saturday evening or Sunday in order to have it clean for Monday. I didn’t have any other clothes.
I remember once being able to buy some scarves, I undid them and made a new jacket for me, one I used to go to work with. I got it cleaned every Saturday evening or Sunday in order to have it clean for Monday. I didn’t have any other clothes.
When she came here, she opened a workshop with some kind of knitting machines. I learned the trade there. In 1948 the educational system was reorganized [11]. These workshops were Jewish – all of them were disbanded, and belonged to the state.
I learned knitting at a machine, where I did hemstitches with a needle. It was a knitting machine, but it was big, so I had to stand and go back and forth with a hand crank, which moved all needles and made the loops. If you wanted you could pass one loop above the other and little holes were formed. It wasn’t complicated.
I learned knitting at a machine, where I did hemstitches with a needle. It was a knitting machine, but it was big, so I had to stand and go back and forth with a hand crank, which moved all needles and made the loops. If you wanted you could pass one loop above the other and little holes were formed. It wasn’t complicated.
I happened to know a lady, she was the forewoman there, who came from Cernauti. This lady, who worked for the big and famous knitting factory Hermes, told me, that she was thrown out of Cernauti, or out of some little town near Cernauti and sent with only her clothes to Transnistria.
She was pregnant by then. They forced them to walk, day and night. Who fell, was shot and left there. She beardachild while walking, just like that, in her trousers, and while bearing she had to keep going – she bearda dead child. Afterwards she wanted to have a baby and she had one, but it was very difficult.
She was pregnant by then. They forced them to walk, day and night. Who fell, was shot and left there. She beardachild while walking, just like that, in her trousers, and while bearing she had to keep going – she bearda dead child. Afterwards she wanted to have a baby and she had one, but it was very difficult.
I went to knitting school around 1946-48. There were primary schools, complimentary schools, vocational schools, and Jewish high schools. Just across the street of the National Theatre of Iassy there is today a school for deafpeople. This was once the building of the Jewish Community of Iassy.
There was the kindergarten we attended too, the primary school, the complementary school and the trade school – it was called “The Culture”. They trained professionals: tailors, iron men, carpenters, shoemakers, dressmakers, embroiders – what was modern at that time. Afterwards they organized some workshops and I went to learn knitting. Others learned tailoring. There were even students coming to learn a trade. I learned knitting.
There was the kindergarten we attended too, the primary school, the complementary school and the trade school – it was called “The Culture”. They trained professionals: tailors, iron men, carpenters, shoemakers, dressmakers, embroiders – what was modern at that time. Afterwards they organized some workshops and I went to learn knitting. Others learned tailoring. There were even students coming to learn a trade. I learned knitting.
We found out about Auschwitz and Transnistria [5] in Iassy only after the Russians came…we didn’t know about any of those things. We didn’t have any newspapers or radios. We knew only what happened around us, in our city. When the Russians came, the Bessarabians started to return to Romania.
Because they didn’t have anything to live from, many people, especially Jews, moved before WWII to Bessarabia. And for a year, until thebeginning of thewar, they did well there. But not all of them. Some of them, who were considered rich, or kulaks or whatever, were sent to Siberia.
The others, which were rather modest, remained there. Then Hitler came and Romania fought on Hitler’s side in order to regain Bessarabia. The Jews were then taken and sent to Transnistria. When the Russians fought Hitler off and regained Bessarabia, many people returned to Romania, because they knew what Communism was like.
Many feared the Russian communists and came on this side without being Romanians. I knew Jews, who came back and told us what happened in Transnistria. We didn’t know until then. My sister had a colleague in high school, who came, who fled Cernauti after the war. I myself knew other persons, who came from Cernauti.
Because they didn’t have anything to live from, many people, especially Jews, moved before WWII to Bessarabia. And for a year, until thebeginning of thewar, they did well there. But not all of them. Some of them, who were considered rich, or kulaks or whatever, were sent to Siberia.
The others, which were rather modest, remained there. Then Hitler came and Romania fought on Hitler’s side in order to regain Bessarabia. The Jews were then taken and sent to Transnistria. When the Russians fought Hitler off and regained Bessarabia, many people returned to Romania, because they knew what Communism was like.
Many feared the Russian communists and came on this side without being Romanians. I knew Jews, who came back and told us what happened in Transnistria. We didn’t know until then. My sister had a colleague in high school, who came, who fled Cernauti after the war. I myself knew other persons, who came from Cernauti.
We were so happy about Antonescu coming [10]. But after that it was a disaster. He came and organized pogroms [1].
Let’s say there were around 100.000 of inhabitants in Iassy before WWII. Romanian and Jews lived together. In our yard there were Jews and Christians as well. On the 29thof June they attacked all the neighborhoods where Jews lived.
They took them from Cuza Voda street, from Lapusneanu street, from all parts of Iassy to Stefan cel Mare street, which was the main street. There was the Pacurari neighborhood, the Niculina neighborhood, Podul Rosu – in each of these neighborhoods lived more Jews than Christians.
I can still hear it even today. In our yard there lived many families. It was a yard with many apartments and stories. Jews and Christian lived there together.
One morning, it was Sunday, they entered in the yard – they weren’t dressed like soldiers – and shouted: “All Jews, come out of your houses!” I don’t remember if anybody explained anything to us, but this is what stuckto my memory: if the Germans are against the Jews and they come by here on their way to Bessarabia, they don’t trust us and they will send us to a labor camp.
Although it was summer – it was the 29thof July, a very warm day – we put on something warm, we took our arctics, because we didn’t know where we were heading to and how long it was going to take. You never know when the war is going to be over. We didn’t take food, we didn’t take anything. We just put something more on: warm jackets and caps.
And we gotout together. When we came out on the Stefan cel Mare street, which was a large street, armed people lined us up and then crowded us towards the police headquarters. There is a memorial plaque on Vasile Alecsandri street, on the wall of the former police headquarters commemorating the victims of this pogrom.
On my way to the police headquarters I already saw dead people laying on the ground. Some of my acquaintances were laying in puddles of blood.
From Stephen the Great streetto the police headquarters isn’t a long distance, but I remember seeing a lot of dead people. Mom never allowed us to go to a funeral. There was a superstition saying that if your parents were alive you aren’t allowed to go neither to a cemetery nor to funerals. So we were somehow spared such unpleasant situations. At the police headquarters they crowded us, together with tens of other Jews from different parts of the city.
All our family were staying together, when I heard someone sayingthat women and children are to go home. Mom took us and we got to the gate. There was a police man. He looked at my brother andsaid: “This is not a child anymore. Get back!” And mom told my brother: “Go and stay with dad and don’t go away from him!” The three of us arrived eventually home. Mom thought that only men were to go to labor camps.
So she took some valuable things from the house – some jewels and the rest of the money we still had– to bring them to my father. She left us, the girls, at home and got back the police station to look for my dad. But people were going in and coming out, some of them were brought there, the women were set free, it was… she couldn’t get at him.
Someone even told her: “Go immediately home, because its dangerous.” This someone was a German. A German officer, who spoke to her in German. Mom knew very well German so she understood him, and came home.
My sister had a friend from the primary school. Her parents hid in their basement a Jewish family. Where they were living, somewhere near the Bahlui river, Jews and Christians lived together. When they saw what was happening on the street, theybroke the fence and called the Jews in their house. They weren’t caught. They were lucky.
Afterwards it was announced in that yard that they were delivering “free”-tickets. The “free”-ticket was a piece of paper, which read “free” and had a stamp on it. The people, who were near this officethatdelivered such tickets crowded to take them. And my father took my brother, got the “free”-ticket and came home.
Some of the people were set free with this ticket. And why were they delivering this “free”-tickets? So thatthe ones who got the ticket toannounce the otherswho didn’t, and lure them in this way to get out of their hiding. They said: “Without this ticket you can’t go out”. My mother went to an older neighbor, who lived above and told him: “Look, you are aged. When you are going to need the ticket, you can borrow mine”.
And he didn’t go to take the ticket, and because of that, heremained alive. That was a happy accident. Many said: “Go and take the ticket.” And the ones, who went remained there and were killed, or were huddled in wagons and sent away. [Ms. Kaiserman is referring to the Death Trains. – Editor’s note] They never came back.
After dad and my brother came home, we locked ourselves in the house, the windows were covered with blue paper – it was called “camouflage paper” – so that the light couldn’t be seen outside during bombardments, and we huddled together without moving. In the afternoon, around half past four they came again in the yard and called out in Romanian. There were a lot of them.
Mom looked through that “camouflage paper” and said: “These are Saxons. They are tall and blond”. This was her opinion. They were civilians, not soldiers. Someone shouted in Romanian: “Get out all Jews. Just the men, not the women. If you don’t come out, we will kill you right away”.
My brother got up and ran to the door, but my mom opposed him, holding the door with her hand and said: “They will kill us all. Don’t go out. I don’t allow you to”. That’s how he was saved. If they took him, they would have killed him at the police station, or he would havebeensent in the wagons and… Although almost 12.000 people died in the pogrom, nobody from our family died. This is the story in short.
What happened to the people in the wagons [1] is another story. They were herded in those cattle wagons, all doors and windows nailed with boards, on the floor a bed of cowpat – they were after all cattle wagons – on the top of which they threw lime.
It was in the middle of the summer, the rooftop of the train growing hot … it was terrible. On the route Iassy – Podu Iloaiei, in one of thewagons therewas my future brother-in-law, Iancu Ţucărman [interviewed by Centropa].
He told me that at a certain point they were sitting on corpses. Because in that wagon, which fitted only some cattle, they herded 130 to 150 people. They weren’t even able to sit. They were standing leaned against each other.
And everybody was looking for a broken board at the window in order to get some fresh air. Those who couldn’t keep calmdied. They died in six to seven hours. After six-seven hours, when the doors were opened, just the ones who could still walkgot out.
There were some puddles there, because the train didn’t stop in the railroad station, but some other place. A peasant, who presentthere said, that they stuck their heads in the puddle to drink the water – and some died because of that.
There were some who got out naked. They tore their clothes off in that desperate moments. Then they were brought to different families in Podu Iloaiei and hosted there. My brother-in-law was hosted with other acquaintances too – they knew each other from Iassy.
What happened to a human being in eight hours! He had black hair and he lostall of it in those eight hours. I didn’t know him and when my sister was engaged to him I kept asking: “Does he have red hair?” I didn’t like red-hair people. I don’t mind them anymore, but then I didn’t like them. And she said: “No, I think he had black hair.” He only got some hairs left on his head, here and there.
Let’s say there were around 100.000 of inhabitants in Iassy before WWII. Romanian and Jews lived together. In our yard there were Jews and Christians as well. On the 29thof June they attacked all the neighborhoods where Jews lived.
They took them from Cuza Voda street, from Lapusneanu street, from all parts of Iassy to Stefan cel Mare street, which was the main street. There was the Pacurari neighborhood, the Niculina neighborhood, Podul Rosu – in each of these neighborhoods lived more Jews than Christians.
I can still hear it even today. In our yard there lived many families. It was a yard with many apartments and stories. Jews and Christian lived there together.
One morning, it was Sunday, they entered in the yard – they weren’t dressed like soldiers – and shouted: “All Jews, come out of your houses!” I don’t remember if anybody explained anything to us, but this is what stuckto my memory: if the Germans are against the Jews and they come by here on their way to Bessarabia, they don’t trust us and they will send us to a labor camp.
Although it was summer – it was the 29thof July, a very warm day – we put on something warm, we took our arctics, because we didn’t know where we were heading to and how long it was going to take. You never know when the war is going to be over. We didn’t take food, we didn’t take anything. We just put something more on: warm jackets and caps.
And we gotout together. When we came out on the Stefan cel Mare street, which was a large street, armed people lined us up and then crowded us towards the police headquarters. There is a memorial plaque on Vasile Alecsandri street, on the wall of the former police headquarters commemorating the victims of this pogrom.
On my way to the police headquarters I already saw dead people laying on the ground. Some of my acquaintances were laying in puddles of blood.
From Stephen the Great streetto the police headquarters isn’t a long distance, but I remember seeing a lot of dead people. Mom never allowed us to go to a funeral. There was a superstition saying that if your parents were alive you aren’t allowed to go neither to a cemetery nor to funerals. So we were somehow spared such unpleasant situations. At the police headquarters they crowded us, together with tens of other Jews from different parts of the city.
All our family were staying together, when I heard someone sayingthat women and children are to go home. Mom took us and we got to the gate. There was a police man. He looked at my brother andsaid: “This is not a child anymore. Get back!” And mom told my brother: “Go and stay with dad and don’t go away from him!” The three of us arrived eventually home. Mom thought that only men were to go to labor camps.
So she took some valuable things from the house – some jewels and the rest of the money we still had– to bring them to my father. She left us, the girls, at home and got back the police station to look for my dad. But people were going in and coming out, some of them were brought there, the women were set free, it was… she couldn’t get at him.
Someone even told her: “Go immediately home, because its dangerous.” This someone was a German. A German officer, who spoke to her in German. Mom knew very well German so she understood him, and came home.
My sister had a friend from the primary school. Her parents hid in their basement a Jewish family. Where they were living, somewhere near the Bahlui river, Jews and Christians lived together. When they saw what was happening on the street, theybroke the fence and called the Jews in their house. They weren’t caught. They were lucky.
Afterwards it was announced in that yard that they were delivering “free”-tickets. The “free”-ticket was a piece of paper, which read “free” and had a stamp on it. The people, who were near this officethatdelivered such tickets crowded to take them. And my father took my brother, got the “free”-ticket and came home.
Some of the people were set free with this ticket. And why were they delivering this “free”-tickets? So thatthe ones who got the ticket toannounce the otherswho didn’t, and lure them in this way to get out of their hiding. They said: “Without this ticket you can’t go out”. My mother went to an older neighbor, who lived above and told him: “Look, you are aged. When you are going to need the ticket, you can borrow mine”.
And he didn’t go to take the ticket, and because of that, heremained alive. That was a happy accident. Many said: “Go and take the ticket.” And the ones, who went remained there and were killed, or were huddled in wagons and sent away. [Ms. Kaiserman is referring to the Death Trains. – Editor’s note] They never came back.
After dad and my brother came home, we locked ourselves in the house, the windows were covered with blue paper – it was called “camouflage paper” – so that the light couldn’t be seen outside during bombardments, and we huddled together without moving. In the afternoon, around half past four they came again in the yard and called out in Romanian. There were a lot of them.
Mom looked through that “camouflage paper” and said: “These are Saxons. They are tall and blond”. This was her opinion. They were civilians, not soldiers. Someone shouted in Romanian: “Get out all Jews. Just the men, not the women. If you don’t come out, we will kill you right away”.
My brother got up and ran to the door, but my mom opposed him, holding the door with her hand and said: “They will kill us all. Don’t go out. I don’t allow you to”. That’s how he was saved. If they took him, they would have killed him at the police station, or he would havebeensent in the wagons and… Although almost 12.000 people died in the pogrom, nobody from our family died. This is the story in short.
What happened to the people in the wagons [1] is another story. They were herded in those cattle wagons, all doors and windows nailed with boards, on the floor a bed of cowpat – they were after all cattle wagons – on the top of which they threw lime.
It was in the middle of the summer, the rooftop of the train growing hot … it was terrible. On the route Iassy – Podu Iloaiei, in one of thewagons therewas my future brother-in-law, Iancu Ţucărman [interviewed by Centropa].
He told me that at a certain point they were sitting on corpses. Because in that wagon, which fitted only some cattle, they herded 130 to 150 people. They weren’t even able to sit. They were standing leaned against each other.
And everybody was looking for a broken board at the window in order to get some fresh air. Those who couldn’t keep calmdied. They died in six to seven hours. After six-seven hours, when the doors were opened, just the ones who could still walkgot out.
There were some puddles there, because the train didn’t stop in the railroad station, but some other place. A peasant, who presentthere said, that they stuck their heads in the puddle to drink the water – and some died because of that.
There were some who got out naked. They tore their clothes off in that desperate moments. Then they were brought to different families in Podu Iloaiei and hosted there. My brother-in-law was hosted with other acquaintances too – they knew each other from Iassy.
What happened to a human being in eight hours! He had black hair and he lostall of it in those eight hours. I didn’t know him and when my sister was engaged to him I kept asking: “Does he have red hair?” I didn’t like red-hair people. I don’t mind them anymore, but then I didn’t like them. And she said: “No, I think he had black hair.” He only got some hairs left on his head, here and there.
Someone even told her: “Go immediately home, because its dangerous.” This someone was a German. A German officer, who spoke to her in German. Mom knew very well German so she understood him, and came home.
My sister had a friend from the primary school. Her parents hid in their basement a Jewish family. Where they were living, somewhere near the Bahlui river, Jews and Christians lived together. When they saw what was happening on the street, theybroke the fence and called the Jews in their house. They weren’t caught. They were lucky.
There are things I remember as if they were yesterday. I remember a plane flying over the city and throwing leaflets: “The army will come and fight off the Iron Guard” – Antonescu [10] was then Marshal of Romania. The Iron Guard was the worst danger for us.
I remember those leaflets falling everywhere on the ground. I took one, read aloud and was so excited. My friends admired me for that. We were so happy about Antonescu coming [10]. But after that it was a disaster. He came and organized pogroms [1].
I remember those leaflets falling everywhere on the ground. I took one, read aloud and was so excited. My friends admired me for that. We were so happy about Antonescu coming [10]. But after that it was a disaster. He came and organized pogroms [1].
The most important Iron Guard leaders [4] were in Bucharest. But some of them were in Iassy too. Their headquarters weresituated near the cathedral. We lived on the Stefan cel Mare street, and that ‘nest’ of legionnaires was on the same street, but on the other side.
Once, in 1938-9 [more likely in 1940 – Editor’s note], King Mihai was to come to Iassy [9]. It was announced that no Jews were allowed to get out on the street. Probably because of Mihai’s and the legionnaires’ visit to Iassy.
Someone told me about a picture in the newspaper of King Mihai dressed with a green shirt and a cordon tied on his chest, like the Iron Guard. We obeyed and stayed at home. In that large yard where we lived, there was an iron door, which was closed.
A friend of my brother’s, Sandu, lived on Stefan cel Mare street too. He grew tired of sitting by himself and considered coming to play with Pincu and talk to us. Some legionnaires who recognized him being a Jew caught him: “Kike, what are you doing on the street?” They took him to their ‘nest’ near the cathedral and beat him so hard, that it was a miracle that he escaped alive. He was a boy of 16.
Once, in 1938-9 [more likely in 1940 – Editor’s note], King Mihai was to come to Iassy [9]. It was announced that no Jews were allowed to get out on the street. Probably because of Mihai’s and the legionnaires’ visit to Iassy.
Someone told me about a picture in the newspaper of King Mihai dressed with a green shirt and a cordon tied on his chest, like the Iron Guard. We obeyed and stayed at home. In that large yard where we lived, there was an iron door, which was closed.
A friend of my brother’s, Sandu, lived on Stefan cel Mare street too. He grew tired of sitting by himself and considered coming to play with Pincu and talk to us. Some legionnaires who recognized him being a Jew caught him: “Kike, what are you doing on the street?” They took him to their ‘nest’ near the cathedral and beat him so hard, that it was a miracle that he escaped alive. He was a boy of 16.
Wartime was awful. You weren’t allowed to get out of the house except at certain hours in the morning and until certain hours in the evening. You weren’t able to procure food only after nine o’clock in the morning and till five o’clock in the evening.
I finished my high school on long distance. I couldn’t do better. I finished high school after the 23rdof August [8] – I always say – “after the war”, but I didn’t manage to go to the university.
My mother wanted each of her children tobelearned, but she could afford to pay only for the other two. She couldn’t afford to pay for me too. I don’t blame her. We lived through hard times.
During the war you couldn’t find work. We felt the change for sure. Firstly we couldn’t pay off the school. Back then school wasn’t free. And my brother was to go to school – my mother wanted him to become a physicist.
Because girls become anyway housewives, so she withdrew mefrom school. I started to broom the house, to clean it, to wash the dishes. The other girl, being the little one, had the ambition and eventually learnedsomething.
During the war you couldn’t find work. We felt the change for sure. Firstly we couldn’t pay off the school. Back then school wasn’t free. And my brother was to go to school – my mother wanted him to become a physicist.
Because girls become anyway housewives, so she withdrew mefrom school. I started to broom the house, to clean it, to wash the dishes. The other girl, being the little one, had the ambition and eventually learnedsomething.
After that, I think it was 1940, Jewish children were kicked out of school [7]. The Jewish high school was founded afterwards, and my brother and sister went there.
Because of financial reasons my parents had to withdraw me from school in my second high school grade – in the autumn of 1938.
Still, I smelled that something was against us. I was too young to realize it, but I remember one thing: I usually got from my parents one or two lei to buy me a pretzel on my way to school. At the street cornertherewas a man with a basket covered with white cloth – he would sell pretzels to the children.
One day the schoolmistress came in our class and I remember what she said: “Children, don’t buy any pretzels from that kike at the corner. I organized here for you a buffet, please buy only from the buffet.” I didn’t know at that time what a “kike” meant, but I felt insulted. I ask myself: why? I was educated to be friendswith everybody and to respect other religions, even if I had another religion.
And still, what the schoolmistress Teodorescu said that day in school I remember even today. I know it was something that annoyed me.
Afterwards I still bought pretzels from the same man at the street corner. She could have said it differently: “Those crackers are dusty, please buy from us, because they are…” She said the word “kike” and that’s what I remember. This was in the third or fourth grade in primary school.
One day the schoolmistress came in our class and I remember what she said: “Children, don’t buy any pretzels from that kike at the corner. I organized here for you a buffet, please buy only from the buffet.” I didn’t know at that time what a “kike” meant, but I felt insulted. I ask myself: why? I was educated to be friendswith everybody and to respect other religions, even if I had another religion.
And still, what the schoolmistress Teodorescu said that day in school I remember even today. I know it was something that annoyed me.
Afterwards I still bought pretzels from the same man at the street corner. She could have said it differently: “Those crackers are dusty, please buy from us, because they are…” She said the word “kike” and that’s what I remember. This was in the third or fourth grade in primary school.
My schoolmates were Jewish as well as Romanian. By then boys and girls attended separate schools. Our neighbors were Jews as well as Romanians, and we remained friends with all of them.
All children played together. Colleagues and friends came by to visit, Christian friends came over and ate specific cakes made for special holidays. They respected us. FortheChristian Passover there was a Romanian traditional cake. Just on Pesah we weren’t allowed to eat anything fermented, so we didn’t eat it.
After Pesah mom would prepare for us the same traditional cake, because we were children and craved for it. But I ate a lot of matzos as well ... through the school years, no matter what friends I had, I kept on eating it. They would even compete to decide which matzos were better.
You could prepare matzos out of sour cream – they bought sour cream, which didn’t contain much fat. They sifted corn flour on a wooden cardboard, covered it with fine muslin, poured the sour cream on it and rolled it on, so that the water got filtered and the sour cream thickened.
They were the best matzos and the most delicious cream. Instead of sour cream or cheese, there was another cream made of cocoa. Some housewives made this filling out of rice – sweetened rice and spices. My mother too baked this Romanian traditional cake and matzos filled with cheese, raisins or lemon peel.
All children played together. Colleagues and friends came by to visit, Christian friends came over and ate specific cakes made for special holidays. They respected us. FortheChristian Passover there was a Romanian traditional cake. Just on Pesah we weren’t allowed to eat anything fermented, so we didn’t eat it.
After Pesah mom would prepare for us the same traditional cake, because we were children and craved for it. But I ate a lot of matzos as well ... through the school years, no matter what friends I had, I kept on eating it. They would even compete to decide which matzos were better.
You could prepare matzos out of sour cream – they bought sour cream, which didn’t contain much fat. They sifted corn flour on a wooden cardboard, covered it with fine muslin, poured the sour cream on it and rolled it on, so that the water got filtered and the sour cream thickened.
They were the best matzos and the most delicious cream. Instead of sour cream or cheese, there was another cream made of cocoa. Some housewives made this filling out of rice – sweetened rice and spices. My mother too baked this Romanian traditional cake and matzos filled with cheese, raisins or lemon peel.
After primary school I attended a Romanian high school called Mihail Kogălniceanu for two years. I was a very good student and in primary school I even got awarded a prize. Even though I wasn’t hard-working I was clever and quick to learn.
Even though the Jewish school was located nearby, my mother signed me up for a Romanian school, saying that we were living in Romania and I should learn Romanian.
The school was called Petru Răşcanu, and it was very close to our home. In this primary school the Jewish pupils had a separate teacher, who would come and teach Jewish Religion.
The school was called Petru Răşcanu, and it was very close to our home. In this primary school the Jewish pupils had a separate teacher, who would come and teach Jewish Religion.
At home we, the children, would talk Romanian and our parents Yiddish. They wouldn’t let us speak Yiddish, in order to learn to speak correctly Romanian. Even though the Jewish school was located nearby, my mother signed me up for a Romanian school, saying that we were living in Romania and I should learn Romanian.
There were many Jewish schools in Iassy, in almost each neighborhood, some of them even near our home. Only during the war, when we were kicked out of Romanian schools [7], the Jewish high school for boys and the one for girls were founded.
Romania
When we were little children we went every summer to Iacobeni, a commune near Vatra Dornei. [Iacobeni is situated at 19km north of Vatra Dornei.] We went there and wherever we could find a free place, we rented a room. Because of my brother and sister, who were tender and needed fresh mountain air, we went almost every summer.
Iacobeni was a very nice place: the Bistrita river, the mountains, the fresh air, the mountain flowers – it was very beautiful. Local people were stock raisers, or they rented rooms – these were their main activities. Some of them also sculpted wood cut from the forest.
They cut with a little knife different models on fir tree branches. They even taught us to make those engravings. There were woodhouses near the Bistrita river, and the train drove us high on the mountains overlooking the valley.
My dad couldn’t come with us on these excursions because of his shop keeping. Mom would go with us, and dad would come visit once a week. Knowing the time of my father’s arrival – usually on Sunday – we would eye the train in the distance.
We had relatives, much older than mom and well-off, who went to Dorna [Vatra Dornei]. We would take a carriage and drive from Iacobeni to Dorna, to visitour relatives – Iacobeni was a small resort and it got at times boring. It isn’t a resort anymore. On that time there were some baths there too, but we went there primarily for the air. Every summer till 1933. Then hard times followed, and we had financial problems. But in my childhood we were doing well.
Iacobeni was a very nice place: the Bistrita river, the mountains, the fresh air, the mountain flowers – it was very beautiful. Local people were stock raisers, or they rented rooms – these were their main activities. Some of them also sculpted wood cut from the forest.
They cut with a little knife different models on fir tree branches. They even taught us to make those engravings. There were woodhouses near the Bistrita river, and the train drove us high on the mountains overlooking the valley.
My dad couldn’t come with us on these excursions because of his shop keeping. Mom would go with us, and dad would come visit once a week. Knowing the time of my father’s arrival – usually on Sunday – we would eye the train in the distance.
We had relatives, much older than mom and well-off, who went to Dorna [Vatra Dornei]. We would take a carriage and drive from Iacobeni to Dorna, to visitour relatives – Iacobeni was a small resort and it got at times boring. It isn’t a resort anymore. On that time there were some baths there too, but we went there primarily for the air. Every summer till 1933. Then hard times followed, and we had financial problems. But in my childhood we were doing well.
All children on the Stephen the Great streetattended the same school and they were all friends. The boys from school would come and play with my brother. One of them told him: “You know, when I’ll grow older, I’ll marry your sister.”
This guy – his first name was Zalman, I can’t remember his family name – was killed by the Iron Guard [2]. He and his family moved to Galati; he was by then ten years old. We didn’t keep in touch anymore – we were children, we had a lot of friends around, so we forgot.
But I found out later that he was assassinated – my brother was 17/18 years old [in 1941-42], and his friend might have beenthe same age. Why? He was arrested because he participated in the Zionist society in Galati. He was transferred from a prison to another and got killed on the way. We found out about it just indirectly. But there is a museum in Bucharest, in one of the synagogues in Bucharest I once visited.
[Ms. Kaiserman probably refers to the Great Synagogue of Bucharest, from 1980 a museum hosting the exhibition entitled ’The Memorial of Jewish Martyrsof Romania’. – Editor’s note] That is why I know that he was killed; he passed for a fugitive, so he got killed. I read it in the newspaper at the Jewish Museum in Bucharest.
This guy – his first name was Zalman, I can’t remember his family name – was killed by the Iron Guard [2]. He and his family moved to Galati; he was by then ten years old. We didn’t keep in touch anymore – we were children, we had a lot of friends around, so we forgot.
But I found out later that he was assassinated – my brother was 17/18 years old [in 1941-42], and his friend might have beenthe same age. Why? He was arrested because he participated in the Zionist society in Galati. He was transferred from a prison to another and got killed on the way. We found out about it just indirectly. But there is a museum in Bucharest, in one of the synagogues in Bucharest I once visited.
[Ms. Kaiserman probably refers to the Great Synagogue of Bucharest, from 1980 a museum hosting the exhibition entitled ’The Memorial of Jewish Martyrsof Romania’. – Editor’s note] That is why I know that he was killed; he passed for a fugitive, so he got killed. I read it in the newspaper at the Jewish Museum in Bucharest.