Tag #124352 - Interview #95940 (Victoria Almalekh)

My father was a communist. One day he headed through the wickets to a meeting-place to bring some clothes and bed-sheets. They were collecting some to use them as bandages. They had found a wounded partisan and he needed some clothes and bandages. Fortunately, they saw only the back of the man who went out with the stuff, but they caught my father anyway: 'Why were you talking to a Bulgarian in the evening? Come with us.' The police-station was downtown, some tough thrashing followed. Well, my father had been stammering since childhood anyway. Policemen couldn’t know he did. So he could barely talk. And because they couldn’t understand what he was saying they let him go. He only got some thrashing. He didn’t go to court and he didn’t go to jail.