Piroska Hamos's relatives

Many people are in this picture; none of them are alive now. The woman on the left is my sister-in-law, Klari. The one on the right is my husband. Behind him is Klari's husband, Lajos Weiner. Next to hum, exactly above my husband's head, is Ibi, the daughter of my other sister-in-law, Iren. At the desk next to my husband, the bald-headed man, is Iren's husband, mark Rosner. Next to him is Iren. Next to her is their son, Endre. Above his head, is Tibi, Klari's son. Down below, on the left hand side, is one of the sisters of my mother-in-law, Adolfne Feher, Aunty Rezsa. Behind her, in the back row, on the left hand side is Miska Oblath, my mother's brother. Next to him, is Andor Oblath, who was one of the three sons of my mother's brother, Uncle Naci. Next to him is my mother-in-law, Morne Hahn and on the very end is my head. This picture was taken in Matyasfold in our garden in 1932. My husband had two sisters, Iren and Klari. Iren's married name was Markne Rosner, and Klari's was Lajosne Weiner. Iren was born in 1901 and Klari in 1903.They also married quite early. They must have gotten married at around the same time, in 1921 or 1922, because in 1923, Ibi and Tibi were born in the same year. Before they were married, both of my sisters-in-law used to work in the offices of the former OTI, The National Social Security Institute. I think they finished four years of middle school. My sisters-in-law were not religious whatsoever. They only kept the fasts, but there was no lighting of candles or anything like that. Klari didn't work; at that time, if women got married, they didn't work really. Her husband, as far as I remember, worked for General Biztosito (General Insurance.) Her husband was put on a B-list. He was made redundant. He got some severance pay. It was around 1938 or '39, so it might have been because he was a Jew . He had no income because he couldn't find another job. They couldn't pay the rent, so they moved to my husband's other sister's place for a while, and they brought the furniture to Matyasfold. Klari's son, Tibi, we don't even know where he ended up. He was taken away for forced labor. Klari was in the ghetto. And my children were with her in the ghetto. And after the war, Klari's work was mending stockings. At the end, she worked as a cashier in a pharmacy until her retirement. She died in 1973. The Rosners had a shoe accessory shop in Baross Street. They also sold leather. This was a crummy, poky den. It was almost opposite their house. They had a two room flat, but the house itself wasn't very elegant. Just my brother-in law and Iren worked in the shop. Iren had a daughter, Ibi, and a son, Endre. Her son was born in 1927; I don't know what he did. Ibi worked in an office somewhere, but I don't know who for. She was deported from the KISOK field- she was buried in Germany. Somebody sent her (Iren) a picture of her grave. Her grave was taken care of for a while. Her son escaped from forced labor somewhere, and the Russians caught him and took him to Russia. We know nothing about him - where and when he died. Iren was in hiding with her husband. After the war, she worked in a food store, later she worked in an office for a long time, until she was about 90. She was 101 years old, when she died in 2002. In the retirement home, there was a big celebration on her 100th birthday. Both of my sisters-in -law were buried in the Jewish cemetery in a common grave. When the husband of Aunty Rezsa died, who had a barber's shop in Jeno Zichy Street, and had no children, she took in Iren and Klari, but it was already after the war. She died in Budapest, in 1991, of old age; she was 92. I can't say anything else about her. A hardly know anything about uncle Miska. I don't even know, what sort of school he finished, I only know, that he took over uncle Feri's shop. This was a small grocery shop. I don?t think they had any employees. They sold cheese, cold cuts, and some spices. They must have had it until about the middle of 1930s. Uncle Miska married very late, around 1940, and I think he must have married a well-off woman, because when he was already married, he wasn't in the shop anymore, but in their candy shop on Erzsebet Avenue, next to the Hirado cinema. And very late in life, he had a little boy. He committed suicide before the war, sometime around 1943 or '44. Andor was born in 1901. He was a clerk, but I don't even know where, but he was already married. He must have gotten married around 1933 or '34; their son, Peter, was born in 1935, and lives in Australia too. They used to live in Budapest, I think in Tuzolto street, but by the time the house was built, they had moved to Matyasfold as well. There was an attic room there, the youngsters and the small boys lived up there. Andor died in 1945 of typhus, supposedly due to the typhus injection. When I arrived home, he was already dead. My mother-in-law had a coal cellar. She sold coal and wood, as a retailer. But then she became sick and she closed the cellar and then , we supported her completely. She lived with us for a long time. She really liked me. She preferred to stay at my place, rather than her own daughter's. She went to her daughter's for a day or two every month, but then she would call my husband, after no time at all, 'Come and pick me up, I'm coming home!' She was an old gossipmonger. Her sister, Aunty Lina, also lived there in Matyasfold, and they sat together and gossiped about the family. She was a kind woman. She loved the children dearly. She took them to the cinema when she was still well enough. She was in a ghetto, with her daughter Klari, during the war. She was liberated there. Right afterwards, in 1945, she died of Typhus. When I got back home, she was dead already. Many died of Typhus. My sister-in-law told me that her husband dragged her into the cemetery in a trunk, I wasn't at home yet. There was probably no name or anything written on it. Probably she was buried in a common grave.

Photos from this interviewee