Tag #138032 - Interview #100912 (Henrich F.)

I remember Nyarasd really only foggily. The last time I was there I was 3 years old, on the occasion of some relative’s birthday. The village roads were dusty. My grandfather’s house stood on this bit of higher ground. I don’t even on what occasion it was, that my parents left me with my grandfather for a few days, so that I could improve my Hungarian. Beside my grandfather’s place stood the house of the local reeve, who had a son that was older than I. There was an apple tree in the yard, and he often said to me that when an apple fell, I should call him. And I would yell out: “Jánoska, lepotyant az óma.” [in Hungarian dialect: Janoska, an apple fell. – Editor’s note]. That I remember. He’d come over and we’d eat the apple together.

My grandfather lived in a typical village house that had a front hall and part of the courtyard was roofed over. They didn’t have running water, but drew it from a well in the yard. In the front part of the house there was a store with various goods. You entered the store through the kitchen. Behind the kitchen there were two rooms, and in the back there was a stable. There was a small garden behind the house, and they also raised animals, but I don’t remember anymore which ones. After the territorial division, when Nyarasd fell to Hungary, I never met my grandfather again. He most likely died on the way to a concentration camp.