Travel

My great grandfather Shulim Hudson was born in the town of Borshchagovka near Kiev. [In Borshchagovka town, Skvira district, Kiev province, according to the poll of 1897 the population was 3196, 1853 of them were Jews.] I don't know the dates of his birth or death. My great grandfather was a tailor, I think. We inherited this profession through generations. The last name of Hudson turned into Gun in 1919, during the census. According to the family legend my grandmother said to my grandfather 'What kind of a last name is Hudson! Let's make it Gun - it'll be better this way'. I have no information about my great grandmother.

My paternal grandfather Shlyoma Gun was born in Borshchagovka in 1874. We spent our summer in Borshchagovka in 1938-1940. I was 4, 5 and 6 years old, accordingly, and only have dim memories about those years. I remember grandfather Shlyoma with his tapeline around his neck, wearing a waist- shirt and a kind of a tie and trousers with suspenders. He always wore a yarmulka. He had a beard. He smoked a pipe, even when he was working. I remember well how my grandfather came onto the threshold of his house with a huge antediluvian iron with charcoal. He brandished with it and sparkles were flying from the iron. I liked it very much. I liked watching him ironing through a wet cloth that generated steam. He put the iron on a brick on his desk. I remember that my grandfather was cheerful: he used to tease me, often smiled and joked. Grandfather and his family lived in a rather primitive stone house. The roof was covered with a thick layer of brushwood and straw. There was a big stack on the roof. There was a well in the yard, a shed where they kept a cow and a horse and a vegetable garden near the house. Since we always rode from his home to the train station on a horse-driven cart, I believe this horse and a cart belonged to my grandfather. I am not sure how many rooms there were in the house. There was my grandfather's shop and the next room had a stove. In the evening there was a kerosene lamp burning in it. There were chairs and long benches by the wall in this room. The family had dinner at a big table in the room. The house was by the side of a road in the outskirts of the town. There was a forest nearby. There was also a river near the house. When my father's brothers came to Borshchagovka in summer we went swimming and rowing. Grandfather stayed at home. He spoke Yiddish to grandmother and with us they spoke Russian using Jewish and Ukrainian words. I don't know whether my grandparents had any education. I don't know whether they went to synagogue, either. I don't know whether there was a synagogue in Borshchagovka. However, I am sure that my grandfather was a religious man since my father was raised religious.

My paternal grandmother Brucha was born in 1879. I don't know her maiden name or place of birth. I remember that she was a short fatty woman. She wore dull-colored clothing. I remember her gray-and-black skirts. She always wore a gray or flowered kerchief. I was a poor eater in my childhood and my grandmother made me eat cereals or carrot pancakes. For this reason she seemed strict to me while my grandfather always took my side. I think my grandmother was as religious as my grandfather Shlyoma. Grandfather Shlyoma, grandmother Brucha, their daughter Sonia, her husband and their child were killed by Germans in Borshchagovka during the Great Patriotic War 1 in 1941. After the war my father's brother Isaac went to Borshchagovka. He talked with people. Eyewitnesses told him that German troops occupied the village in September. They shot all Jewish population and hanged those who resisted. They were buried there, but there are no graves. I don't know or what reason our family didn't go to Borshchagovka in summer 1941, but this rescued us. Shlyoma and Brucha had five sons and a daughter. There were all born in Borshchagovka.

My father's older sister Sonia was born in 1902. My parents told me that she married a Jewish man at a rather mature age. Her husband's name was Benia. They had a daughter. Her name was Riva. I remember that my aunt Sonia had beautiful black hair. I don't think she had a character of an angel. She interfered into her younger brothers' life. I remember that my mother sighed 'Oy, Sonia!' talking about her in far from flattering words. Sonia and her family were shot by Germans in Borshchagovka.

I don't remember my father's brother Iosif, but I know that he was born in 1906. All I know is that he lived in Kiev before the Great Patriotic War. From there he went to the front where he perished in 1941. His wife's name was Bronia and their daughter's name was Rimma. I remember Rimma well. They visited us after the war. Bronia was a short fat woman. She was as quick as flame. I think she worked in commerce. Bronia and Rimma lived near Gorky Street in Kiev. Bronia and Rimma with her family moved to USA in the 1970s. They live somewhere in California.

My father's brother Misha was born in 1907. He had tuberculosis since he was a child. I don't know how Misha moved to Odessa from Borshchagovka. He married Raya, a Jewish woman. They lived in Sredniaya Street in Moldavanka [in a poor Jewish neighborhood in the outskirts of Odessa]. They liked guests. I liked to visit them. Raya always gave me a toy or candy. They always invited us on holidays, but I can't tell whether they were Jewish or Soviet holidays. They had matzah and their daughter Riva cooked delicious food from matzah. She must have learnt it from her mother. I never heard Yiddish spoken in Misha's family. Misha received an invalid's pension and earned some money by sewing. Raya was a vendor in Moldavanka. She sold pies, jam, wine and soda water. They were wealthier than we. Raya and Misha had two children: Lyova, born in 1931 and Riva, born in 1935. During the war their family evacuated to Tashkent [3,250 km from Odessa, in Uzbekistan]. Raya and her daughter visited us in Siberia where we evacuated during the war. I remember they brought dried apricots and fruit. It was a rare delicacy. They wanted us to come to Tashkent and were thinking of staying there after the war. Misha probably liked the climate and Raya never had any problems with finding a job with her commercial talents. Anyway, they returned into their prewar apartment in Odessa after the war. They had two small rooms with no comforts. Misha died of tuberculosis in 1947, at the age of 40. He was buried at the Second International cemetery in Odessa. His wife Raya died in the middle 1950s. Lyova was a troubleshooter: he was single, didn't work and was in conflict with the law. He died in the middle 1970s. After her mother died Riva tried to take to commerce, but failed. She married Grisha Goriachkovski, a Jew. In 1992 they moved to USA with their two sons. They live in Brooklyn.

My father's brother Isaac was born in 1913. Before the Great Patriotic War he lived in Kiev. During the war he was a tank man at the front. He even took part in the war with Japan 2. He was slightly wounded several times. After demobilization Isaac married a Jewish woman in Kiev. His wife Manya was an accountant. They lived with Manya's older sister Fania and her husband in an apartment in Konstantinovskaya Street in Podol. Isaac and Manya had two children: daughter Bella and son Marik. Bella married Arkadi, a Russian man. They divorced shortly after they got married. Marik married Luda, I think she was Jewish. I cannot say anything about Isaac's religiosity. I didn't ever hear them speaking Yiddish. Isaac, his wife and daughter moved to Israel in 1987. His son Marik and wife Luda moved to USA some time ago. Manya died in Israel. Bella lives there with her father. Isaac had two surgeries: he had cancer tumor removed. He feels better now.

My father's brother Efim was born in 1915. He finished Kiev Medical College before the war. He married Manya, a Jewish girl from Zaporozhe and moved there. They had a son named Grisha. Efim served as a military doctor in a military unit. He received a uniform that he didn't quite like. He asked for some fabric and made a uniform. Everybody was surprised: an officer could sew! He could sew like my father's other brothers. When the Great Patriotic War began Efim went to the front and his wife and Grisha evacuated. I don't remember where they were in evacuation. In 1941 Efim's family received a notification that he was missing in action. After the war Grisha and Manya returned to Zaporozhe. Grisha finished a Medical College and got a job assignment to Murmansk where he was chief doctor of the town hospital. Grisha continued a search of his father after the war. He wrote requests to whatever agencies until he bumped into the lists of Soviet prisoners-of-war who had perished shortly before the end of the war in Buchenwald or Auschwitz where he saw his father's name. I've lost contact with Grisha recently. His mother Manya lived with him and I don't remember when she died.

My father Anatoli was born in 1910. He was probably given a different name at birth, but Anatoli is his name written in his passport. Why I think so is because my grandfather Lazar sometimes called my father Tuly at home. [Editor's note: probably Semyon's father's name was Naftula, a Jewish name.] My father went to school in Borshchagovka. He rarely recalled his childhood. He always remembered that he was forced to study a profession of tailor. Most likely, grandfather Shlyoma taught his sons himself. My father never told me how he happened to move to Odessa in the early 1930s. All I know is that he came to the house of his parents' acquaintances Lazar and Risia Alpert. Their adoptive daughter Fira lived with them. She was my future mother..

All I know about my mother's father is that his name was Semyon Shtilman. Lazar and Risia Alpert adopted my mother and her sister, but they didn't process any official documentation and the children kept their father's last name. [Editor's note: Semyon called his mother's adoptive parents 'grandmother' and 'grandfather'.] My maternal grandfather Lazar Alpert was born in 1880. Most likely he also came from Borshchagovka. I don't know who his parents were. Lazar said he was a blacksmith from the age of 12. My grandfather was physically very strong. He told me that he could hold an old model gun by the tip of a bayonet with his fingers and his arm stretched. Lazar served in the tsarist army. Nikolay the Second 3 came to the regiment where my grandfather was serving. When he was inspecting the alignment he saw that my grandfather's collar was unbuttoned. Nikolay pointed this out to commanding officer of the regiment. The commanding officer replied that the largest size shirt was too tight for my grandfather and Nikolay ordered that they made an individual uniform to my grandfather. Lazar told me, the soldiers had two meals in the tsarist army: breakfast and lunch, no dinner, but this was plenty of food. Four military got a big casserole of borsch - one liter and a half per person and a bowl of cereal. During WWI my grandfather Lazar was captured by Austrians. He remembered that at first prisoners were taken to the sauna. They received soap and when they applied it on their skin the Austrians turned down the water for few minutes. Grandfather said that the soap was biting sharp into their skin. This was a kind of disinfection that they had. Austrians were loyal to them. There was no suppression. Grandfather Lazar also told me about Jewish pogroms during the Civil War 4. I remember one of his stories when an equestrian gang 5 rode into their village and began to torture Jewish families. My grandfather wanted to escape on a horse-driven wagon. One bandit began to follow him. They fought and then the bandit began to shout for help. My grandfather managed to hide in rush on the bank. He stayed underwater for hours breathing through a rush tube. In the evening he got from under the water and ran to somebody's house where he hid under a bed. In Odessa my grandfather worked in a forge near a military unit in Politseiskaya Street. He didn't earn much there. I remember he had a coat that he always wore before the war. Grandfather Lazar went to synagogue on holidays. He had a prayer book: a small thick book that he read through a magnifying glass. He also had a printed Torah. Lazar spoke Russian to me and Yiddish with his wife Risia and my parents. He had a moustache that he liked to wave. I don't know whether he observed kashrut. I know that grandfather Lazar never ate garlic or onions and had gefilte fish and cutlets cooked separately for him.

My maternal grandmother Risia Alpert was born in 1870. I have no information about her parents, her place of birth or her youth. Risia was about 10 years older than my grandfather and had no children of her own. Risia was a religious woman. She went to synagogue with her husband on holidays. She wore dull colored clothes: gray skirts and gray blouses. I remember a dress that she had: dark brown with white dots. Risia wore jackets that she knitted herself. I remember her knitting needles. Grandmother wore a kerchief at home and outside. She spoke Yiddish with grandfather Lazar and my parents. Risia always looked good: she took care of herself. She was healthy and her skin was soft and smooth. My parents used to say 'Oof, she likes herself!' Every morning grandmother Risia had tea with lemon and bread and butter. She didn't drink alcohol at parties: she poured some vodka into a saucer and dipped bread in it. She also had another peculiar feature: she swallowed pills and other medications without washing them down. She had a strong throat and could drink boiling water. Risia had no education, but she counted in her mind in a jiffy. Grandmother Risia liked me dearly. If my parents put pressure on me I complained to her. She always gave me some money on holidays. I addressed her with informal 'you' while I always addressed my grandfather with formal 'you'.

My mother's older sister Nina was born in 1910. She didn't remember the place of birth or her parents' place of birth. I remember that she could read, so I think she might have finished a primary school. I heard one story about her youth incidentally. Once when I was young - it was in 1957 - I hailed a car returning home late at night. I sat in the car and said 'To the circus'. And the driver said 'Oh, my sweetheart once lived there'. He started talking and told me that his sweetheart's name was Nina. She had blue eyes and fair hair. She refused him. I asked him in what number she lived and he said the number of our house. My mother told me later that Nina was a very beautiful girl. She was very selective and refused many men. She remained a spinster in the end. Nina lived with us before the Great Patriotic War. She loved me and my brother. She evacuated with us and was quite a member of our family. I remember that after the war doctors used to come to attend to her often and there were ambulances, too. She managed to get a room in an apartment due to her poor health condition. She died in 1964 when I was at a training course in Moscow. She was buried at the Jewish cemetery.

My mother's younger brother Yakov Shtilman was born around 1915. He was a little younger than my mother. I don't have any information about his childhood. I don't know where he was raised. He was a political officer in the army during the war. He finished the war in the rank of captain or major. I don't know what he did after the war. He lived with his wife Uliana in a district town in Cherkassy region. His wife was a beautiful Russian woman. Her neighbors tortured her about marrying a Jewish man so hard that she hanged herself in the 1950s when Yakov was on service. Their son Lyonia was a baby when this happened. Yakov visited us after this tragedy. I remember him wearing his military uniform with a belt, waist case and a map case. He was very reserved. Yakov raised Lyonia himself. Yakov died a sudden death in the 1960s. My parents went to his funeral. After he died my cousin Lyonia stayed with us when taking exams to the Navy School, but he failed. I visited him in Cherkassy in 1974. He had a Russian wife. Her name was Luba. They worked at a plant. She was a nice woman. They had two children. He stopped calling me for some reason. They moved to another place, he divorced his wife and disappeared from my field of vision.

My mother Fira Shtilman was born in 1912. My mother either didn't remember or didn't want to tell me where she was born or who her parents were or why she became an orphan. We didn't have any information about her childhood. The Alperts adopted her and her sister, but nobody told me how it happened. I am sure that my mother wasn't in an orphanage or we would know about it. My mother studied at school. She could read and write in Russian. My mother was a quiet and reserved woman: Shtilman means 'quiet person' in German and it fully corresponded to her personality. In the 1920s my mother was an ardent Komsomol activist, as she told me. In the 1930s my mother worked in joiner's shops in Odessa.

My father and mother got married in 1933. They had a civil ceremony. They rented a room in the house where the Alperts lived. In some time my parents received an apartment in a wing house in the yard of this house and moved into their former apartment. I was born in maternity hospital #2 in Komsomolskaya Street in Odessa on 17 October 1934. I was named Semyon after my mother's father. I was circumcised on the 8th day. On 21 December 1937- Stalin's birthday - my brother Alexandr was born. I attended a kindergarten then from where I brought measles, chickenpox and whooping cough and Alexandr contracted them. I actually didn't fall ill while Alexandr had all these diseases. We lived in 27, Podbelskogo Street, near the circus. There was a typical town yard near our house; a well-shaped yard. There was a pump in the center of the yard and a toilet on the right. Neighbors used to sit on benches eating sunflower seeds. Everyone knew everything about all neighbors and everybody took an active part in the upbringing of their neighbors' children. I remember Ustina Valchuk, a huge woman. She liked to watch swallows under the roof of our house from her hallway. Ustina often called me to say 'See how they make a nest' or 'see how they teach their little ones to fly'.

My father worked as a storekeeper at the tinned food plant named after Lenin near Chumka 6 before the war. My father was a communist. His friend Yasha Shraidman was something like a commercial director at this plant. My mother and her sister Nina worked in joiners' shops in Bugaevka in the outskirts of the town. I don't know what my mother did in particular, but she was well respected at her work and had awards for her performance. Her sister and she always came to work on time and never missed a day of work. Once there was one-meter deep snow in Odessa, but they still came to work, although public transportation did not commute. There was even an article published in a newspaper on this occasion.

We often had guests. My father was a hospitable man. He could give away anything. I remember even conflicts on this subject when my mother wanted to save some food, but my father was dead against it: guests in the house - everything should be on the table. My parents didn't have any luxuries. My father had a gray checkered suit and Ukrainian embroidered shirt before the war. My mother wore white collars on her blouses - they looked fancy. It's strange, but I can't remember a single dress that she had. My mother's hair turned gray before she reached the age of 30, but she didn't color her hair anyway. Since my father was a member of the Communist Party we didn't observe any Jewish tradition at home and didn't go to the synagogue at all.

I was raised in such a way that I received a gift from 'Mr. Stalin' on every Soviet holiday: my parents put it in the wardrobe. I remember drawing profiles of Lenin 6 and Stalin together and then Karl Marx 7 and Friedrich Engels 8 -there were four profiles in a row and they were not bad at all. I also painted tanks with flags and inscription 'For Lenin, for Stalin'. I was raised on these slogans. In 1941 I turned 7 and was to go to two schools: secondary school and a music school in Sobornaya Square. My parents wanted me to play the violin.

On 22 June 1941 My father and I went to visit our neighbor paralyzed after he was wounded at the Finnish War 9 in the Kuyalnik recreation center 10. We were in his ward when at 3 pm a nurse ran in yelling 'there's a war, there's a war!' All visitors left at once and so did we. Trams were overcrowded. People were running. They carried bags of soap, bread, sugar and cereals from stores. When first air raids began in Odessa Alexandr used to say 'Senia, what are you afraid of: they are our armies shooting' and he lisped his words a little. When my father's plant was ready for evacuation my father was included in the equipment escort group to transport equipment by sea transport. Our family didn't obtain any permits to this ship. My father drove a truck loaded with empty boxes to our house and we hid between them: my mother and I, Alexandr. Aunt Nina, Risia and Lazar and we successfully drove to the harbor. There were people on the shore, but they were not allowed to board the ship. Then German planes began to bomb the harbor. People scattered around and we hid under a tent. There were suitcases and bags all over the harbor. When the planes flew away my father went to talk with the captain of the ship and we were allowed aboard. We arrived at Novorossiysk. The ship was overcrowded. I remember big and sweet pears that we had in this town. The equipment was loaded on a train to be transported to Siberia. We went by this train as well. We had few boxes of apples and pears with us. We arrived at Tobolsk [2,900 km from Odessa], Tumen region, where local residents saw these fruit for the first time. We gave them apples and they didn't know how to eat them.

As soon as my father delivered the shipment to the point of destination he was summoned to the front. He was a private in infantry. There were horrific casualties and then it was easy to get a promotion particularly when a person was a communist. My father was made commander of a squad and then a master sergeant. He was responsible for making all necessary provisions to his unit. My father told me that they once, when they were taking weapons to the front line a splinter broke the truck lights and they almost got lost. It was a miracle they were not captured by Germans. He also told me about the New Year near Stalingrad. The distance between the front lines was about 25 meters. Our soldiers could hear Germans playing mouth organs and having fun. Then Soviet and German soldiers started talking and throwing cigarettes and treatments to one another. It was a surprise for me. But my father said people were only human. Who ever wanted to kill each other? The night before Stalingrad battle my father wrote a letter home. My mother read it to us aloud: 'I am writing this letter in the moonlight. It's 3 am and in the morning we shall go in attack...' We received his next letter in three months from Voronezh where my father was in hospital. He told us that a shell exploded near him and all others around him were killed. He fainted and when he regained consciousness he thought he had lost his leg so acute the pain was. In hospital doctors removed few splinters, but one. The doctor said that might injure hamstring if they wanted to remove it and then my father's leg wouldn't bend. My father agreed to leave it there. This splinter caused a lot of pain for the rest of his life. Every now and then his leg got swollen and turned blue and in bad weather it ached.

We lived in Tobolsk for two years without my father. My mother and grandmother Risia didn't work. We had a vegetable garden and received food packages. Grandfather Lazar earned some money by sewing. Aunt Nina worked hard at the timber cutting facility where she caught cold that had an impact on her health for the rest of her life. We lived in the street along the river bank. There were wooden houses in the street. There was a Russian stove in each house. There were round openings in the walls 10 cm in diameter that served for the purpose of ventilation. They were tucked with rags. Every week families went to the sauna. The major part of the life of local residents was sauna, tea and pies. During the war there was no sugar or tea and they drank boiling water with salt and garlic. Pies were made with fish filling. It took us some time to get used to this food. They grew carrots, turnip and cabbage - very delicious. We also made nettle soup and 'zatirukha': water added to flour cooked on the frying pan. In winter frozen milk wrapped in cloth was sold. Milk boiled in a Russian stove was something out of this world. We received lumps of chocolate instead of sugar. It was more delicious than chocolate that we have nowadays. We looked forward to receiving a letter from father. When a postman brought a letter he was always invited for a cup of tea. Mother read these letters with tears in her eyes.

There were two stone buildings in Tobolsk: a church and a school building of red bricks on a hill. I went to school there. I didn't have a pen and grandfather Lazar cut a stick from a branch and made me a pen. This was the first pen in my life.

In 1944 my father was demobilized from the army due to the wound he had had. He came to pick us up and we moved to Tumen where Yasha Shraidman was working. He was my father's friend from Odessa. Yasha helped my father to get a job at the storage base where assistance from America was delivered. They received food, clothing and uniforms. We were well provided then. We often had guests. My father enjoyed such gatherings. He knew many humorous stories and jokes. Aunt Nina worked at the fish smoking factory in Tumen. Alexandr went to school in Tumen in 1944. He fell ill with meningitis. By some miracle our parents got sulfidine that cured him. There were about 25 other patients with meningitis in his ward. He was the only survivor. When my mother heard on the radio on 10 April 1944 that Odessa was liberated (10 April was my mother's birthday), this was the greatest gift in her life. Since then she only looked forward to one thing: returning to Odessa.

In autumn 1944 we began preparations for returning to Odessa. My father and Yasha Shraidman rented a railcar, installed a stove with a stack in the middle of it and made two-tiered plank beds. We had huge food stocks to go: big containers with American tomato sauce that we spread on a slice of bread, containers with sunflower oil, jars of pork meat, cookies, American brown sugar and alcohol. We also took jeans and parka jackets that my father had in store. We also took repp fabric: when we arrived in Odessa we had jackets made from it in a garment shop. In 1944 before an anniversary of the Great October Socialist Revolution 11 we arrived at a sorting spur in about 10 km from the center of Moscow. My father packed few jars of pork meat and a couple of bottles of alcohol into a bag and went to manager of the station. 'Somebody asked me to deliver a parcel to you. - Who? - I don't know. They just asked me to give it to you. - What am I expected to do? - Just have our railcar driven to a spur closer to the city'. After this discussion our railcar was placed so that we could watch the fireworks from our window.

Our return to Odessa

I remember our arrival in Odessa. The railway station was ruined and there was debris scattered all around. We hired a wagon and two horses, loaded the wagon and walked after it along Lenin Street across the town. My parents kept looking around and kept asking each other whether the Opera Theater was still there. When they saw the theater they felt very glad. When we came to our gate janitor Khristia didn't want to let us in. She didn't want Jews to live in this house. We had to argue with her until she let us in. Our neighbor Motia Fukovskaya, a Russian woman, let us stay in her room since she was staying with some acquaintance of hers. Motia kept few pieces of our furniture and even our family photographs. She had her photographs on top of ours hanging on the walls in her room. Our rooms were occupied by tenants from the wing house. They didn't want to move out. We had to turn to court to have our rooms back. We had two 18 square meter rooms. There were two windows with curtains in one room. There was a stencil in one room: dark blue posts on the white background. There was my mother's bed with nickel-plated cones, a carpet on the wall and my mother and father's portraits above. There was a bookstand with magazines and book Delicious and Healthy Food, few Sholem Alechem 12 books translated into Russian and my textbooks. There was also a desk where we did our homework. In the darker room there was a sofa where I slept and my brother's bed, and later there was also my sister Bella's bed. We had a common kitchen of about 8 square meters in size. There were two tables in it: one was Motia's and one - ours. There was a sink in the corner and a coal stoked stove. There was also a stove in the room. My mother began to clean up the rooms. Once she felt ill when she was hanging a photograph on the wall standing on a chair. My brother and I were taken out of the room. A doctor from a neighboring house came to attend to our mother. Our mother started labor. There, on 5 January 1945 my sister Bella was born.

We also turned to court to get back grandfather Lazar and grandmother Risia's apartment, but failed. They received two smaller rooms instead. I remember a big dark green iron wrought box with a lock and a nickel-plated bed that they had. They were poor after the war, but they supported us nevertheless: we often had lunch at their place and my grandfather used to buy me an undershirt or socks every now and then. After the war grandmother Risia sold dresses at the market on the corner of Sadovaya and Torgovaya Streets. Lazar worked as a blacksmith in the same forge. There were three German prisoners-of-war working there. They were brought there from a prison to work. My grandfather said they had a very hard life: they ate cats and dogs. Lazar brought them some food there. Grandfather treated them well. He said Germans could be different, too. The ones who worked with him were hardworking and accurate. There was ideal order in the forge and in the woodshed. I often came to my grandfather's forge. One of these Germans gave me a small silver-rimmed comb, a thimble and an ivory seam tool to remove tacking thread. This German seemed to make a right guess about my future profession. I kept the thimble for a long time. I learned to like good tools: childhood impressions are long remembered.

Grandfather Lazar also earned some money shoeing horses in the circus. He often took me with him: I handed tools to him. Once grandfather Lazar even shoed an elephant. The elephant didn't like something and he picked my grandfather and lifted him. Then Boris Eder, an animal trainer, an Honored Artist, rushed to my grandfather's rescue. Many actors came to Odessa on tours, but they sometimes had to perform with about 15 spectators in the hall. People were afraid of going out: there were many robbers around.

I had many friends in the house and at school. Our friends in the house were twins Yuri and Vadik Rachniaks. Their father was an engineer and worked at the Far North. The boys went there to visit him and told us how cold it was there. I went to the 4th from in Odessa and Vadik went to the 2nd form at school #50. I don't remember any anti-Semitism at school. There was a healthy environment from this point of view. Somebody told me some time that there were abuses in the streets. I never faced any. Alexandr and I studied well at school. I was an active Komsomol member at school. My closest friend Igor Milan was Russian. We became friends in the 7th form. He played the guitar and sang. We got together at his home in Paster Street: we sang, drew and issued a wall newspaper. His father was in the Navy. He perished on the first days of the war. His grandfather was in a partisan unit in Odessa. Igor Milan, Oleg Novitski, Syoma Sorokatiazh, Valentin Goldenberg and I were leaders at school. Actually, our class was unique: 8 or 9 of my classmates finished school with medals. I took part in amateur art activities. We played football and basketball at school. I took sandwiches with goose cracklings to school. It was such delicacy!

I still keep in touch with my school friends. Recently, in the late 1990s, our teacher of the Ukrainian language Natalia Iosifovna died. She was a strict teacher, but children liked her for being just. Her former pupils collected money for a gravestone. This year is 50th anniversary of finishing school and I hope we shall get together on this occasion. My best school friend Igor Milan has passed away.

Life wasn't too bad after the war. We had food stocks. There were no cigarettes and my father made some from newspaper. He made wooden guns for Alexandr and me to play. As for anti-Semitism, my father said that before the war there was a law against national abuse while after the war things went out of control.

My father wore an army jacket. He liked clothes with neck-high buckles, the so-called 'Stalin's collar'. He walked with crutches. He used to attend parents' meetings at school and our class tutor asked him to chair such meetings. My father had to find a job. He didn't have any special education, but he had excellent organizational skills. His friends helped him to get the position of director of a bakery on the 4th station of the Fountain. In late 1945 an audit identified violations. My father was expelled from the Party and sentenced to 10 years in prison. My mother was there alone to raise three children. At that time my father's brother Isaac demobilized from the war with Japan. He stayed with us and supported our family for few months. Aunt Nina and he made cotton wool jackets at home. Nina worked in a garment shop and was very quick at work. She showed me how she made pants within 40 minutes. My mother sold cotton wool coats at the Novy market. I remember my mother giving me 30 rubles - a reddish banknote - and we went to the Novy market to buy 200-300 grams of delicious plum jam that we spread on bread. There were plenty of apricots: the best were 20 kopeck per kilo. There were lots of apricot stones around at the market. We picked them up to dry the seeds: they were delicious. We were hard up at the time when our father was not with us. However, the house was perfectly clean; mother did a clean up every day and on Friday there was a general clean up before day off. But we didn't observe Sabbath. Our mother taught us to keep everything in order and check all windows, taps before leaving home.

A loaf of bread cost 1000 rubles. My mother became an apprentice at a hairdresser's. She became a hairdresser. She also kept addressing lawyers appealing for the father. She also needed money for this. She wrote requests to all kinds of institutions until our father was released.

Our father stayed in prison for about two years. When he returned he was offered to restore his membership in the Party, but he refused. My father was a good tailor and at the beginning he made military uniforms at home. I remember that he made a uniform for the son of our janitor Khristia Pavel who finished the war in the rank of lieutenant colonel. After the war Pavel finished the Military Academy in Moscow, became general colonel and commanding officer of the Caucasian regiment. When my father returned home from prison this future general came home on vacation and my father brought him a jacket and an overcoat. It turned out so well that Pavel was more than pleased. I remember how afraid my mother was of financial inspectors with their portfolios. Some people wrote anonymous letters reporting on my father that he had private business. Financial inspectors fined my father..

In 1947 my father became a tailor in the Navy School. He was responsible for fixing uniforms for cadets. My father also made uniforms for the management of the school. Cadets usually asked my father to make their trousers narrower or wider depending on fashion trends. My father had a lot of work to do and was well respected at work. Cadets liked him. He was a good mixer. My father also continued sewing at home for some time. He had dinner after he came from work and then went to sleep for 2-3 hours. Then my mother woke him up and sat down to his desk to work until about 4 am. He worked in the same room where I slept and the light and Singer sewing machine often woke me up. After the war people wanted to have their clothes made with consideration of future mending. My father had an acquaintance: an elderly Jew who was an expert in the darning of an upper pocket on a jacket. When an old jacket was altered and turned inside out its left lapel switches to the right side and the pocket is to be on the left. All Odessites knew that this old tailor could make such darning on the spot where the pocket used to be that nobody could tell there used to be anything. My father talked about him with admiration: 'Yeah, he is a specialist!' My father made tussore, canvas and woolen suits at home. He took the welting to be starched, then sewed over horse's hair, applied cotton wool to straighten up the shoulders. To make the long story short, such jacket just stood in a corner. Such was a fashion trend after the war.

We observed all Jewish holidays in the family. I didn't have any preferences, though. My father began to go to the synagogue in Pushkinskaya Street with grandfather Lazar after he returned from prison. There is no background story here: it was just a coincidence. When this synagogue was closed they began to go to the synagogue in Peresyp [in an industrial neighborhood in the outskirts of Odessa.]. On the Day of Atonement [Yom Kippur] morning my father and grandfather put on their fancy suits, ties and hats and went to the synagogue. I didn't see them wearing yarmulka at home, but they took them to the synagogue. They stayed in the synagogue a whole day. They didn't eat or drink anything. When they came home in the evening they followed the ritual of having tea with lemon after the first star appeared in the sky. In 20-30 minutes they sat at table and said a toast. My mother didn't go to synagogue. She was there probably once or twice from what I remember. She always made gefilte fish and all kinds of delicious food at Pesach. Our father told us about Moses leading Jews in the desert for 40 years. I don't think we had Pesach in real Jewish sense. We had candles lit in candle stands, but I don't remember on what holiday. My father couldn't help working on Saturday since he was the breadwinner in the family. He didn't observe kashrut and the other family members either.

When my father's friends visited him they had tea and jam and cookies. They played lotto, cards and dominoes. My parents always went to see performances of Jewish theaters that came on tours, which happened rarely after the war. My father sang Jewish song. I remember a song about a tailor and 'Varnechki'. After the war a well-known tenor Alexandrovich often came on tours to Odessa. He sang in Yiddish. My father liked him. Alexandrovich sand 'Varnechki' at a concert in Philharmonic and it was quite a hit. My father also liked songs from Soviet films. My father often sang popular song with his Jewish friend Farber: 'Dark barrows are asleep', or 'Because of you, my sweet cherry, I argue with my friend'. I still love those songs. When I hear them I recall my parents and even the sunlit interior of our apartment. In 1950 - my father bought an expensive 'Minsk' wireless. My parents even argued about it since my mother wanted to spend this money differently. Anyway, my father bought this radio and began to listen to the 'Voice of America' in secret from the children. He thought that we might blurt it out somehow and it was dangerous. He was interested in politics.

My mother was a great cook, but she didn't have a kosher kitchen. She bought food at the market and cooked herself. She made traditional Jewish food: goose cracklings and stew with matzah as garnish. It was added to the gravy. My mother made red borsch with meat broth and vegetarian red borsch that was served cold. Mother also stewed meat with traditional or sweet and sour gravy. My mother selected beef that melted in the mouth. She stewed ribs served with potatoes or noodles. She fried semolina and made garnish to be served with meat. She made salads and liked garlic and onions. She used a lot of salt. Later she had problems with high pressure because of it. My mother suffered a lot and I remember how she had leeches applied on her. My mother's Jewish friends Clara often came to see my mother. Clara visited my father's brother Misha and his wife Raya with us. My mother didn't drink while Clara liked drinking. She was a strong and healthy woman and was a donor.

My sister Bella went to school in 1952 at the age of 7. Boys and girls studied in different schools, so she and I studied in different schools. She studied well, but at about 10 years of age she began to have heart problems, rheumatism. Our parents were worried about her. They sent her to a children's recreation center in Tuapse.

I remember Stalin's death well. I was standing on watch at school with tears in my eyes. I was in the 10th form. It was a tragedy and a nightmare for me. Who would lead the country? There was some vacuum in my mind and so did my parents, I know. We knew that Stalin was our God and chief and he was the only one who could solve everything. Who else could?

In 1953 I was summoned to the army. I served in Western Ukraine. I met Oleg Gumovski from Odessa in the army and we became friends. Oleg and his father were Baptists. Oleg told me that there was a convoy of gunmen sent to take him to the army. His faith forbade him to take weapons in his hands. We learned artillery weapons in one year instead of standard three years and I had training in an artillery unit. Its commanding officer was captain Lebedev, an intelligent man. My fellow comrade sergeant Yanchishin used to be a guard in a camp for political prisoners somewhere in Kolyma. He told me many details about 1937 [Great Terror] 13 He told me how guards tortured prisoners. When I asked him whether he could kill a prisoner he replied 'Sure, I could - they are not even human beings!'

I remember one field training near Lvov when our guys were attacked by Bandera troopers 14. Our guys had to hide down. They didn't have any bullets, there were strict requirements about a release of weapons. We had just shortly before received Kalashnikov guns: it was still top secret. We could only carry these guns in cases. Once after the garrison watch was over we went on our way to our camp in 35 km from the town. Soldiers had hard drinks with them and one of them got drunk and lost his bullet case with bullets in it. The regiment was given alarm and combed the railroad track all the way until they found this cartridge.

In 1956 I demobilized from the army. Oleg and I returned home. Oleg lived in Degtiarnaya Street in Odessa that was not far from where I lived and we saw each other rather often. Oleg's father was an engineer. I remember how he showed us a Pravda newspaper [the main paper of the Communist Party of the USSR] with publications disclosing Stalin's crimes. Oleg's father told us that things were changing and improving. We believed him and had the best hopes ever. Party organizations arranged meetings to discuss the report of Khrushchev 15 on 20th Congress 16. In some time Oleg and I met a French man in Deribassovskaya Street [the main street in Odessa] at ten o'clock in the evening. This was the first foreigner whom we ever saw. It was amazing! He couldn't speak Russian and we couldn't talk French. People were gathering around trying to touch him. Well, when we saw him we thought that other foreigners were coming to our country and we would be able to travel abroad as well.

In 1956 Oleg Gumovski and I applied to the Construction College, but I failed at the exam. Then I decided to follow into my father's footsteps and become a tailor. I entered Odessa College of Light Industry. In 1958 I finished it with honors and worked as a modeler at the individual fashion factory for about half year. In 1959 I married my fellow student Lubov Gorovenko. She was Ukrainian. Lubov was born in Kiev in 1939. She was also a modeler. We didn't have an apartment. We divorced and Lubov went to live with her parents in Kiev in 1961. We didn't have children. In 1959 I went to work as an assistant modeler at the Fashion Model House that had just opened in Odessa. In a year I became a modeler. Our director Zinaida Fominichna Gaivoroskaya was a former Party leader at Vorovskogo garment factory. She was a man-like creature with hoarse voice, a chain smoker and she liked drinking. We were horrified. We expected to see a more refined person on this post. We were surprised that she learned to conduct fashion design meetings so skillfully that any professional could envy her. She managed to have a new building given to us. There were hardly any magazines. Every month we received 5 fashion magazines from Moscow for two weeks. Every year a group of modelers went to methodical meetings held in Moscow for representatives of 36 Fashion Houses of the USSR. We took there our garment collections and mannequins with us. I remember coming to the All-Union Chamber of Commerce where they had foreign made clothes on hangers. We looked at them and forgot about everything else. We drew pictures of them and tried them on. We discussed how they were made and discussed the technology. This was how we learned. We also went to theaters and art museums.

My brother Alexandr finished school in 1954 and entered Odessa Navy School. It was next to impossible for a Jew to enter this school, but our father was working there and it helped. He studied in a very nice group at school. They were friends and they still meet. My brother was fond of sports. He played football. He was a goalkeeper. When he was a cadet my brother married Lora, a Russian girl from Vinnitsa. Lora finished the Faculty of Physics and Mathematic with honors and worked in design institute called Storm. Alexandr finished his school and had a visa for sailing abroad opened. I would say, he was very lucky to get it. I remember that the head cadet of their group Lyonia - he was also a Jew - was not allowed to sail abroad. They explained that he had relatives abroad. Alexandr was an electric mechanic on tankers for 42 years. In 1964 their son Yuri was born. When he was a student of Communications College he borrowed my old sewing machine to earn some money by sewing. Yuri finished his College with honors and was thinking of going to a postgraduate school and dissertation, but he didn't quite like it that scientific employees had a small salary. Although his parents were against it Yuri dropped his scientific career, bought a haberdashery stall from an acquaintance of his and sold belts that he made there. Now Yuri is a big businessman in Moscow. He is a broker at a stock exchange, makes deals and provides railroad maintenance services.

In 1962 I remarried. I had an apartment at that time. My second wife Marina Moiseevna Sinelnikova was born in Leningrad in 1938. Her father was a Jew and her mother was Russian. Her mother perished during the siege of Leningrad 17. After finishing a Technical School Marina came to work in Odessa where we met. Our son Sasha was born in 1962. We divorced in five years. I left my apartment to my wife and son. Sasha finished a secondary school in 1978. He works as a photographer. Sasha is married, but they have no children.

In 1962 my sister Bella finished a secondary school and didn't continue her studies. She worked as a secretary at school and then worked for some company. In 1965 Bella married Philip Estherman, a Jewish man. Philip was a butcher at the market. He cut meat [not kosher]. This was one of the most money earning professions in those years. In 1967 their son Vadik was born. Bella divorced Philip shortly afterward. He moved to Germany. In 1970 Bella married Boris Andreev, a Russian man. He adopted Vadik. Boris worked as a ship forwarder for a long time. Now he is a dispatcher in a yacht club in Odessa. Bella observed some Jewish traditions. She cooks some traditional Jewish food wonderfully and goes to synagogue on holidays. Two months ago [in 2003] she became a grandmother. Her son's daughter Veronica was born. In 1964 aunt Nina died. She was buried at the Jewish cemetery.

In 1967 I got married for the third time. My wife Anneta Michailovna Karnaukhova is Russian. She was born in 1938. She finished The College of Surveys in Odessa. We don't have common children, but I've raised her son Vadim since he was five years of age, although I didn't officially adopt him. He calls me 'Father'. Vadim finished a secondary and music school and the Navy School. He sailed for 17 years. His wife's name is Katia. They do not have children. Vadim speaks fluent English and is computer literate. He works as a programmer in the company of my long-time friend modeler Voronin.

In 1967 I went to work at the factory of individual garments # 2. I received an apartment. I worked in an experimental shop that made collections of men's garments. We also made clothes for the town leadership: secretaries of the regional Party committee and their assistants. We also had private clients. We only received 120 rubles of salary and needed to earn some more. My plan there included four items of clothing per month. Then there were 10 employees to who I had to give workload. I came to work at 6 in the morning and left work at 11 in the evening until I could work fast enough to keep them busy at work. Then I had an inkling that the situation was to change. I began to learn to sew women's clothes. It worked out well. In 1975 at an exhibition in Kiev I met I met Michael Voronin, men's clothing modeler. We became friends. Voronin is a popular Ukrainian modeler. He owns a concern 'Voronin'. It contains a factory and a network of stores all over Ukraine including Odessa.

In 1970 grandmother Risia died at the age of 100 years. She was buried at the Jewish cemetery. Grandfather Lazar couldn't live alone. He met an old woman, still much younger than he. Her name was Manya. She was very concerned that Lazar might die before her, but Lazar actually outlived her. Manya died in 1974 and my grandfather's friend came to see Lazar to express his condolences. They decided to drink a bottle of vodka. They opened a bottle and a cork fell on the floor. Grandfather Lazar bent down to pick it up and died. He died an easy death in the age of 94 and he was so scared of death. We buried grandfather Lazar near Risia's grave at the Jewish cemetery.

My mother died in 1971. She had pneumonia and developed edema of lungs due to negligence of doctors. I took professor Finkelshtein, a well-known doctor in Odessa, to examine her, but there was nothing he could do. We buried mother at the Jewish cemetery and hired a man from the synagogue to conduct the funeral. In two years after my mother died I acquainted my father with Manya Reznik, a Jewish woman. They got married and my father moved to Manya's apartment in Artyom Street near the Ukrainian Theater. Manya was a waitress in a cafe. She had two daughters. Everything went on as it used to be when mother was alive: we had family gatherings and parties. My father all of sudden developed a culinary talent after my mother's death: he made gefilte fish, forshmak and salads.

My father listened to the 'Voice of Jerusalem' and continued listening to the 'Voice of America' on the radio. My father always said he could move to Israel, but he didn't go there since he didn't want to cause trouble to anybody. I didn't move then for the same reason, although I was willing to go. I have the most positive attitude toward Israel. Every nation must have a state. We just happened to have been born here. I am a conservative man. It's hard for me to leave my land. I got used to living here. Besides, there is my age and I don't know the language. My wife and I started learning English, but gave up.

I've always been interested in policy, read newspapers and thought about our life. I've never segregated people to Russian, Ukrainian or Jewish. We were citizens of one state. I remember when I watched the film Ordinary Fascism of Romm 18 for the fist time I was in a shock. It shocked me: Romm made a comparison between fascism and communism showing how much in common there was. I've read in newspapers that Romm spoke in the Supreme Soviet with a suggestion to delete the 'national origin' line item in passports, but his proposal was ignored.

Perestroika

When perestroika began I decided to go into politics. In 1990 I was elected candidate to deputies of the Zhovtnevy district council in Odessa. I was deputy of this district council for four years until I saw the inside of policy and didn't want to continue there. I like my profession and would never change it for a chair. However, the period of perestroika was interesting. If one wants to give it a thought communists had some achievements: a salary with which one could make a living, good pensions, free medical care and free education that everybody believes to have been good. I think they needed probably to change some things and tighten up some cogs like they do it when a car won't start. And what did Gorbachov do? He wanted to disassemble a car and then put it together instead of fixing things and the car would have moved. Besides, there wasn't another car available, so they should have probably driven the car they had while making another car in parallel.

In 1990 I suggested that we should open and fashion salon in our affiliate in Novoselskogo Street. I've become director and co-owner here. I design the repairs and improvements to be made. One peculiar thing about our salon is that we make clothes with one try on. The client selects one ready model and tries it on. An employee puts down all necessary alterations to be made, the client selects fabric from our assortment and then comes next time to pick up a ready item. I began to develop this method in the 1980s. This is a timesaving production process. We make men's and women clothes of all sizes. It's a bit difficult now due to competition, people have little money and there are unreasonable laws that impede business.

My father died in 1993. The doctors suspected appendicitis, but when they began to operate they identified a malignant growth. When father was in hospital Manya, his second wife, looked after him. She had a stroke and died in this hospital. My father died two weeks afterward. We buried my father near our mother's grave at the Jewish cemetery.

I am not religious: I do not observe kashrut and observe few Jewish traditions, but we got together at Bella's place on the Jewish New Year [Rosh Hashanah] and Pesah. The Jewish life revived in the 1990s. It was like a ray of light in a realm of darkness. Before this things were done sort of under a blanket and now people could do them openly. As for me, I do not have any personal contacts with any Jewish organizations. I do not anything about Gmilus Hesed, but I do appreciate any support and assistance provided to older people. Our salon also provides assistance to older people, even if they are not Jews. We send clothing to the town executive committee that distributes it to the needy.

In 1999 something happened to me: I had a surgery for intestine obstruction. The surgery was unsuccessful. I was taken to Kiev and had 5 more surgeries within two years. I was having a hard time, but I managed. Now my wife Anneta and I live in a 3-room apartment in Sophievskaya Street in the center of Odessa. I have a big collection of books on art, history, philosophy and world classics. I have another hobby. I collect unusual and rare alcohol drinks. I spent every Sunday at the seashore. In 1967 I began to do yoga. I jog to the sea every morning. Similar health enthusiasts gathered into a group that was registered as a public organization named Samson in the 1990s. Our president Valeri Khmelnyuk is the mayor of Illichevsk 19. There are interesting people in the group. We are friends. We celebrate holidays and birthdays at the seashore. We need to be strong. We have to fight through each day. My favorite holiday is a holiday that you feel in your soul.

My family background
Growing up
During the war
Post-war
Glossary

3 Nicolay the Second (1868 -1918)

the last Russian emperor from the House of Romanovs (1894 - 1917). During his reign Russia was defeated in the war against Japan (1904 - 1905). After the First Russian Revolution (1905 -1907) Nicolay the Second had to agree to set up the State Duma (parliament) and to carry out land reform in Russia. In March 1917 during the February Revolution Nicolay abdicated. In 1918 in Yekaterinburg was shot by the Bolsheviks together with his family.

7 Karl Marx (1818 - 1883)

the son of the Jewish lawyer who had converted to Christianity. Young Marx studied philosophy at the University of Berlin. He became a founder of so called "scientific socialism". His Communist Manifesto ends with such words: "Let the ruling classes tremble at a Communist revolution. The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains. They have a world to win. Working men of all countries, united!" The Marx' doctrine gained a great popularity by the Russian revolutionaries.

14 Stefan Bandera (1909-1959) was a leader of the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists, (OUN)

When he announced in Lvov in 1941 an independent Ukrainian government, he was arrested by the Germans and sent to Sachsenhausen camp. Later was set free. During and after WWII he was the organizer of the armed resistance in Ukraine against Soviet powers and then moved to Germany (Munich). Bandera was killed in 1959 by a KGB agent. 15

Katarina Mullerova

KATARINA MULLEROVA
Slovakia

My name is Katarína Mullerová. I was born in 1949 in Galanta,
Czechoslovakia, which today is in Slovakia. I am a teacher.

My father, Julius Muller, and my mother, Sarlota Reichenbergerova, come
from Samorín.

My father was born on February 15, 1908, in Dolne Saliby, which was in the
Austro-Hungarian Empire at the time. His family was Orthodox, and their
rabbi was Rabbi Buchsbaum. My paternal great-grandfather was born in a
village called Vaja vata. My father's father, Natan Muller, died in 1915 in
World War I. My father grew up with his mother, Charlota Grunvaldová; her
married name was Mullerová. She was known as a very energetic woman,
ambitious, with a very strong personality. She lived with her sister,
Berta, who was not married.

My father was a farmer. In 1930s, he married Aranka Strikerova, from Nové
Zámky. They had four children: Róbert, Tomás, Ivan and a daughter, Marika.
Unfortunately, none of the children or his wife returned from the camps. My
father returned alone. His only happiness was that he met my mother. They
married on May 1, 1946. They lived together until 1957 when he died of
cancer, when I was 7 and my sister was 5. My sister's name is Zuzana
Mullerová-Wisterová. She lives in Bratislava and has a daughter, Vierka.
Our family is very small.

My mother was born in Samorín in 1923. Samorín had a famous Orthodox
community. My mother's family was very religious, but also very
progressive. My grandmother was familiar with famous composers and their
arias. My mother learned to sing all of them from her. Operas, operettas -
it was progressive for that period. They also read quite a lot. My mother
was from a very poor family, but they put emphasis on education and
culture.

My mother had two brothers, Ladislav and Simon. Ladislav died on the
Russian front in 1941, while he was in a forced labor brigade. Simon, who
was with him in a work camp, survived the war and returned in May 1945.
Simon left Slovakia for Israel in December 1945. He remained in Israel
until 1960, when he left for America. Simon now lives in Castro Valley,
near San Francisco, California. Uncle Simon has a son, Joel.

My father had one brother, who left for Palestine in 1938, and from
Palestine to England, where he joined the Foreign Legion. His name was
Rudolf, but he changed it to Benton when he arrived in the United Kingdom.
He died in London in 1974. His wife is alive, as is their daughter, Katy
Peters. She lives in London and works as director of a Jewish school.

My mother's parents and my father's mother died in Auschwitz. I think there
was not one family in Galanta in which children born after the war had
grandparents. That is the biggest handicap - when a child does not know his
grandparents and cannot find the support, the knowledge, the family
stories. I was very happy that my mother lived to see her granddaughter,
Vierka. My mother was very proud of her and loved her very much.

When my father died, the community in Galanta was very supportive. People
knew each other very well and also helped each other. I have especially
fond memories of the Katz family. Editnéni Katz, Aunt Edith, was from Zitno
ostrov. My mother came from the same place; that's why they were so close.
And there were two other women who also came from Zitni ostrov. They were
Mrs. Kramerová (née Goldbergerová) and Mrs. Schultzová, from Tomásov. They
were very supportive and friendly, until, one after the other, they died.

My mother had family buried in Mliecno, near Samorín. There is an Orthodox
cemetery in the town, but nobody visits it any more. The cemetery still
exists, but since 1949, nobody has been buried there.

We have a few cousins in Israel. Feri Grunvald lives in Kiryat Tivone; he
has wonderful memories of Galanta. He left in 1949. Everyone traveling to
Israel speaks about Galanta as a changed town. He has memories from before
the war and immediately after the war. He's afraid of coming back for a
week or two. He clearly admitted that he is afraid of the disappointment
that would meet him here. There is no synagogue, no yeshiva, no traces left
- apart from the cemetery - to connect him to the town. This used to be one
of the biggest Orthodox communities, with famous yeshivot, and there are
people living in America or Israel who were students here.

Leonid Dusman

Leonid Dusman and his mother Sarah Dusman

Leonid Dusman
Odessa
Ukraine
Interviewer: Alexandr Beiderman
Date of interview: February 2003

Leonid Dusman is rather plump, but he is still a very energetic old gentlemean. His look is piercing and clever. While telling his story he enjoys to recall details. Our interview took place in his little office in the flat of the house once built and owned by his grandparents. Now he lives in this flat with his wife. Their children have places of their own. There are a lot of books in every room. Leonid is a freelancer; he works for Jewish and non-Jewish papers in Odessa. His main theme is the Holocaust.

My paternal great grandfathermother's father, Shmuel Ginsburg, was a merchant of Guild I 1. The Ginsburgs were a well-known family in Odessa. My great-grandfather owned bakery storage facilities. My grandmother's brother, Lazar Ginsburg, was one of the first radiologists in Odessa. He graduated from the Medical Institute in Vienna and worked in Odessa. I don't remember him well because he died before World War II.

My grandmother on my father's side, Fania Dusman [nee Ginsburg], was born in Odessa in 1865. She spoke fluent Russian with no accent. She received a good education; she finished a grammar school. She didn't wear a wig or a kerchief,. She didn't follow observe the the kashrut and . She didn't go to the synagogue. The family was wealthy, but my grandmother was used to working hard. She was a wonderful cook and shecould sew well. Fania took care of the house and housemaids and supervised my grandfather's sewing business. After my grandfather died she lived with us. I remember how accurate she was. She got up early in the morning, made her bed and combed he hair. I never saw my grandmother or mother with undone hair or wearing their nightgowns. My grandmother and I were close friends and I often came to her room. My grandmother told me about life "in good old times". She had a tin with candy in her room and she always treated me to a candy. When my mother was angry with me I ran to my grandmother. My grandmother had a tough character, but she loved me dearly.

My paternal grandfather, on my father's side Isaac Dusman,, was born in Odessa in the 1860s., He finished a commercial school and was a merchant of Guild II. The apartment in which I live now is in the house that was built by my grandfather and his partner Nisgoltz. This house was built in 1892. There were stores on the first floor, and two of them belonged to my grandfather: a clothing store and a women's underwear store. There were also sewing shops that manufactured clothes and underwear in this building, which were also owned by my grandfather. My grandmother managed the house and housemaids and supervised my grandfather's sewing business. They manufactured clothes for many people in Odessa. Apartments were on the second and third floors. My grandfather's family lived in an apartment on the third floor. My grandfather had a summerhouse at the seashore in Chubaevka. Theis building was very long and called '"Smaller Passage'." There were also sewing shops that manufactured clothing and underwear in this building. They were also owned by my grandfather. They manufactured clothing for the whole population of Odessa. My grandfather also had a villa by the sea in Chubaevka near Odessa. The stores and villa were taken away from the family by the Soviet power after the October Revolution of 1917 2. It seems to me that my grandfather had a formal attitude towards religion, but I'm sure that he donated to the synagogue like all other Jews.

My grandfather's familyparents survived in the Odessa pogrom of 1905 3. My grandmother told me that during the pogrom, when the thugs were in their street, Fedosey and all other Christian janitors from our neighborhood stood in front of our house with icons. It meant that there were no Jews in the house but only orthodox Christians. The Black Hundred 4 went past this neighborhood and nobody suffered. When I was a boy, I knew Fedosey, who was the janitor of ourthe house before the Revolution. My grandfather still owned one store until the end of the NEP 5 period in the late 1920s, when the Soviet power confiscated all people's property and eliminated private entrepreneurship. Within two or three days my grandfather became a poor man. He got a stroke and died in 1930 at the age of 60-65.

My grandparents had three children. Their younger son died in infancy, in an accident on a construction site: he fell from a scaffold and died. I don't know his name. My father, Moisey Dusman, and his brother, Mark Dusman, were their two other sons. My father's younger brother Mark was born in 1898. Like my father he finished the private grammar school of Panchenko. He was a rontgenologist. He lived and worked in Moscow. Mark was married and his wife's name was Vera. They had a daughter named Irina. During the Great Patriotic War (3) Mark went to the front and perished in 1942. My father was born in Odessa in 1894, and his brother Mark in 1898. They both studied at the private grammar school. At 13 my father had his bar mitzvah and got a tallit and tefillin. Later he showed me the velvet bag for his tefillin. However, I never heard that my father went to the synagogue. He was hot-tempered like all other young men in Odessa, and he liked to go fishing in the sea for a day in my grandfather's boat. He liked hunting, which is a rather unusual hobby for a Jewish man! He had many hobbies at that time. My father and his brother Mark went in for sports at the Jewish sport society Maccabi.

At 17 my father became a volunteer with the Jewish self-defense movement 6. There were many such units in Odessa in those years to fight against pogrom-makers. During the February Revolution in 1917 the units of Jewish self-defense joined the Red Guard Troops [armed detachments of workers during the Revolution of 1917]. My father was in the Red Guard Troops. After the February Revolution, when Jews got all their civil rights, my father and his brother finished a military school.

My father was never interested in politics and didn't join any party. He wanted to be an engineer because he was very interested in technical things. However, my grandmother Fania said, 'Who has ever heard of a Jewish man to be an engineer? I would understand if you wanted to be a doctor, but an engineer ... that's beyond my understanding'. My father and his brother became doctors. My father studied at the Dentistry School at the Medical Faculty of Odessa University and became a dentist. Mark became a radiologist. He lived and worked in Moscow. He was married, and his wife's name was Vera. They had a daughter named Irina. During the Great Patriotic War 7 Mark went to the front and perished in 1942.

My mother's father, Duvid-Moshe Opendak, was a binder. He owned a binding shop and had apprentices. I don't remember my grandfather and I don't know how religious he was. He left his family before the revolution of 1917. His children were very unhappy about this fact and stayed out of touch with him. My mother's family wasn't wealthy. They had to save and economize on things a lot in order to provide education for the children. My mother recalled a store where they bought leftovers of sausages. My grandfather left his family before the Revolution of 1917. My mother never told me the reason why, but I know that he lived in Odessa. His children were very angry with him and stayed away from him. He died in 1938.

I remember my grandmother, Reizl Opendak. She was a very nice and kind woman - a real a Yidishe bobe ([Yiddish for 'granny']). She was a very good housewife and made delicious food. I don't know if she observed the kashrut or if she went to the synagogue. She didn't wear a kerchief, and I didn't see her wear a wig either. Her mother tongue was Yiddish, but she also spoke Russian like everybody who was born and lived in Odessa. She died in 1938.My grandmother died in 1938.

There were five children in the family: Leonid, my mother Sarah, Raya, Fema and Genia. All of them were born in Odessa and finished a grammar school, apart from the youngest. The oldest, Leonid Opendak, was born in 1894. He lived in Odessa and worked as an accountant. He died in 1934.

My mother's younger sister, Raya Opendak, was born in 1898. She finished a school for medical nurses established by Jacob Bardach, who founded the first aid facility with ambulances in Odessa in 1913. My aunt worked in a hospital during World War I. After the Revolution of 1917 she was a medical nurse in a surgery department. She was single. During the Great pPatriotic War she was in the ghetto with us. We were in the Domanevka 8 camp. In She returned to Odessa and continued working as a medical nurse. She died in 1957and; my mother was holding her in her arms.

My mother's younger brother, Fima Opendak, was born in 1900. FimaHe was a member of the Communist Party and involved in revolutionary activities. Fima lived in Moscow and worked for the 'Young Guard' Komsomol 9 magazine. He married a Jewish woman and had three sons. FimaHe was arrested in 1937 [during the Great Terror] 10 and executed after a month and a half. His sons live in Moscow. They married Russian girls.

My mother's second brother, Genia Opendak, was born in 1912. My mother looked after him because my grandmother didn't have time to take care of him and do the whole housework as well. I don't know where he studied, but. He he was a party activist. He was arrested in 1937, Aafter he received an appointment from Khruschev 11, thawhot was the first secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Ukraine at that time. HeGenia was to be the secretary of the regional Komsomol committee in Odessa. He was waiting for the train to Odessa at the railway station in Kiev when they arrested him. Genia had a girl-friend called Zhenia. She was Russian. After his arrest she She was expelled from the Komsomol because she didn't reject him. Zhenia waited for him for eight years. During the Great pPatriotic War she sent him parcels from were she was in evacuation. They got married after he was released. He was rehabilitated after Stalin's death [Rehabilitation in the Soviet Union] 12. They settled down in the town of Monchegorsk, Murmansk region [2,400 km north of Odessa]. Genia wasbecame a Soviet official. He died in 1987.

My mother, Sarah Opendak, the oldest daughter in the family, was born in 1896. The other children listened to her every word. She was a second mother for them, really. She studied at the private grammar school of Shyleiko and Richter. Richter was a German woman and Shyleiko a Polish woman. My mother studied at the grammar school and also gave lessons to support the family. She taught Russian language, literature and arithmetic. She finished grammar school in 1913. My grandfather Duvid-Moshe couldn't pay for her furtherhigher education, so Mmy mother and her sister Raya attended and finished a course for medical nurses. In 1914, during World War I, they worked as nurses in a sanitary train. Later my mother entered the Dentistry School fof Odessa University.

My father Moisey Dusman was born in Odessa in 1894. He studied at the private grammar school named after Panchenko. At 13 my father had a Barmitzva ritual and got a thales and twiln. My father showed me a velvet bag for his twiln.As far as I can remember no member of our family ever rejected faith in God. However, I never heard that my father went to the synagogue. My father was like all other young men in Odessa - he was hot- tempered, he also liked to go fishing in the sea for a day - my grandfather had a boat. My father also liked hunting - what a surprising hobby for a Jewish man! He had many hobbies at that time. My father and his brother Mark went in for sports at the Jewish sport society Makkabi. At 17 my father became a volunteer at the Jewish self-defense unit. There were many such units in Odessa in those years to fight against pogrom makers. After the February revolution, (7), when Jews got all their civil rights my father and his brother finished a school of ensigns. This almost cost him his life in 1937. My mother's sister Raya living at my grandmother Reizl's house had a photograph of my father wearing his uniform of ensign of the tsarist army. When uncle Genia was arrested in Kiev the Soviet authorities came to them with a search. The NKVD (8) officers saw a picture of an officer of the tsarist arms and asked my wife who he was. Thank God my aunt got an idea to say that it was the photo of her former lover that had perished during the war. During the revolution of 1917 the units of Jewish self-defense joined the Red army troops. My father was in the Red Guard troops during the civil war. My father was never interested in politics and didn't join any party. He wanted to be an engineer - he was much interested in technical things. However, my grandmother Fania said "Who ever heard of a Jewish man to be an engineer? I understand a Jewish doctor, but an engineer - that's beyond my understanding". My father and his brother became doctors. Mark became a rontgenologist and my father became a dentist. My father studied at the school of dentists of Margolin. My parents met each other at the Dentistry School in 1917. My mother and my father were involved in revolutionary events. The two of them saved their friend, Arkadiy Barsht, from the firing-line near the railway station. He came to Odessa from Kherson. He also studied at the Margolin school. Later Arkadiy worked as correspondent for "Pravda" [main communist newspaper] in Moscow. He and my father became friends. My father and mother were very much in love with one another. My father went from Malaya Arnautskaya to the New Market, through the whole town, just to see her. There were skirmishes and raids in Odessa, but my father went to see her nonetheless.

My parents dated for three years before they got married. They got married on 20 Januaryin 1920 after finishing the dentistry school. They had a civil marriage. The authorities sent them to work in Beliaevka ([45 km from Odessa]). They got to Beliaevka on a horse-driven cart. There were very few doctors left in the hospital in Beliaevka after all the bandit attacks during the troubled times of the Civil War 13. YMy father and mother were very valued employees in the hospital. When my mother got pregnant in 1923 they returned to Odessa.

They stayed in my grandfather Isaac's apartment. From then on, they lived with my paternal grandparents, who received the young couple very well. On 2 NovemberMy brother Boris was born in 1923. My father left for the Typhoid Epidemic Center straight after Boris' birth. I don't remember the location of the center. He didn't want to go there and leave his wife alone with the baby, but although my father came from a wealthy family, he couldn't refuse to go. His refusal might have given the authorities the chance to question his loyalty towards the Soviet regime. He returned shortly afterwards and began to work as a dentist in the Lermontov Recreation Center. [The recreation center was located within the city boundaries, 20 minutes on foot from Leonid's house.] Besides dentistry my father was very good at maxillofacial and cosmetic surgery. He was also a very good dental mechanic. He was a very sociable and helping man and never allowed anyone to push him around. ?my mother was a dentist and her last place of work was plant "Red Profinter". This is a factory of piston rings at present.

I was born on 19th November 1930. My grandfather Isaac died two weeks before I was born. He had a stroke sometime between the age of 60-65. However, in his last words he mentioned that my parents should conduct the ritual of circumcision after my birth. And they did it. My grandpa was buried in a Jewish cemetery, but I don't know if they observed the Jewish ritual back then.

After my grandfather's death my grandmother still lived with us. I remember how accurate she was. She got up early in the morning, made her bed and combed her hair. I never saw her or my mother with undone hair or wearing their nightgowns. My grandmother and I were close friends, and I often went to her room. She told me about life 'in the good old times', that is about how wealthy they lived before the October Revolution. She had a tin with candy in her room and always treated me to a candy. When my mother was angry with me I ran to my grandmother. My grandmother had a tough character, but she loved me dearly.

I have bright memories of my father taking me home from kindergarten. We rode on a horse-driven cart from the Lermontov Recreation Center. This cart used to take the staff of the center home. My father loved Odessa and told me a lot about the neighborhoods we passed. To make me enjoy the ride to the most he wore a white suit and sat beside the cabman. I was allowed to sit on athe coach-box and hold the reins. I was very proud it. My father loved Odessa and told me a lot about the neighborhoods we passed.

I also remember our janitor, Fedosey, coming to our home on Soviet and religious Christian holidays. He stood on the doorway and greeted my parents, '"Moisey Isaacovich and Madam Dusman'. He had a big white beard, wore an apron and a badge. He got a shot of vodka, a small snack and some money. This ritual was very colorful.

Another memory of my childhood is how our parents educated my brother Boris and me. Every Sunday the whole family sat down for dinner. My father liked borsch [Ukrainian traditional cabbage and beet soup] so. Tthere was borsch, brown bread, garlic and a decanter of vodka on the table. My fatherHe liked to have a shot of vodka before dinner, took some garlic afterwards and ate hot borsch. He never forgot that we were watching him. My brother was seven years older than I, and my father gave him a few drops of vodka because he thought 'a son should get to know about things from his father'. Boris and my father clinked their glasses and drank vodka. I kept staring at them, wondering why it was that they could have what I couldn't? My father decided to show me there was nothing to be jealous about. He dipped a piece of brown bread in vodka and gave it to me. I got so sick - I was just ten years old then.

Family life was the highest value for my parents. They had a summerhouse, which was a wooden house on the territory of the Lermontov Recreation Center. He and some other doctors were allowed to build small houses for their families to rest in summer. TheyMy parents took us to the summerhouse every year because they believed it was good for us. We stayed at the seashore during the whole summer vacations. My father liked to go fishing on the weekends. My mother cooked for the family. Our summerhouse was a wooden house on the territory of Lermontov recreation center where my father worked. He and some other doctors were allowed to build small houses for their families to take a rest in summer. She let me got to the beach with my brother. He taught me to swim and dive. We and I liked swimming and sunbathing. My mother let me got to the beach with Boris. He taught me to swim and dive. We returned to the town before the school year began.

My brother studied at a school, which was the formerly the grammar school of the Efrussi brothers. It was a Russian grammar school. I also went to this school, which was my parents' decision, although there was a Jewish school nearby. It was easier to continue education after finishing a Russian school because all higher educational institutions were Russian. As for Ukrainian, only servants spoke Ukrainian in Ukrainian towns.

We spoke Russian at home, although my father and mother knew Yiddish. When our parents wanted to talk about something between themselves they switched to Yiddish. I don't think they knew Hebrew. My parents weren't religious. They arranged a festive dinner on Pesach but it wasn't an actual seder. Writer Zhabotinskiy described such assimilated Jewish family in his novel "The five of them" (9). This family didn't forget about their Jewish origin.Our family got together on Soviet holidays in our apartment. My grandmother Reizl, my mother's sister Raya and my mother's brother Genia came to visit. The siblings lived in other places. We set up a big folding table and my mother made dinner. She learned how to cook from my grandmother Reizl. We had various dishes. My mother learned to cook from her mother Reizl. She made delicious gefilte fish. We were a wealthy family. My father had a private practice at home. He had an office with a dentist's chair in our three-bedroom apartment. We also had a pet, a spitz- dog called Silva.

When Uncle Genia was arrested in 1937, the Soviet authorities came to his mother's house with a search warrant. There was a photograph of my father wearing the ensign uniform of the tsarist army. The NKVD 14 officers saw the picture of an officer of the tsarist army and asked who he was. Thank God Aunt Raya, who lived with my grandmother Reizl, had a brilliant idea and said that it was the photo of her former fiancé, who had perished during the war.

On Sunday, 22nd June 1941, all our family was at the summerhouse. At 7am we were ready to go fishing to the sea when all of a sudden the commandant of the recreation center came to see us. He said, '"Moisey Isaacovich, it's an emergency situation - we are at war! You have to go to the administrative office'". My mother couldn't believe what she had heard. She even thought this commandant was just being a nuisance. After two week my father put on the uniform of a major of medical services. He went to the sanitary battalion of Chapaev division #25, deployed in Odessa. The division was getting ready for the defense of Odessa. My mother also began to work at the military hospital established in the former Jewish hospital. We still lived in the recreation center. The Soviet propaganda - newspapers and radio - assured people that the enemy would be defeated and that Odessa would always belong to the Soviets. The housing agencies were ordered to have bags filled with sand to put out fires. Military instructors made the rounds of houses to instruct people on how to handle firebombs.

The bombing of Odessa began in the middle of July. It was horrifying. After the first raids we left the recreation center for our home. The situation in town was tense. Rationed bread was given to people, and there were problems with potable water. Beliaevka, where the water supply station was located, was occupied by the Germans. People fetched water from old wells, but there wasn't enough. Our housing authorities arranged a bomb shelter in our old basement, which was formerly a food storage facility. Many men joined the army, and people began to evacuate. In August the siege of Odessa began. We had to stand guard on the roofs to watch out for firebombs. Senior schoolchildren were sent to the vicinity of the town to build defense facilities. My brother, who had just finished school, was involved in the excavation of trenches. Barricades of bags with sand were built in Odessa. Reinforced steel units, welded at the plants, were installed in front of the barricades. We, boys, gathered splinters from shells.

Sometimes my father came back from the frontline. He had a pistol and an 1897 three-linear rifle. Although my father was a major those were the only weapons he had. Many soldiers at the front had no weapons at all. My father tried to calm us down saying, '"There is an order to keep Odessa as long as possible'". My father came home on leave once. During that period many watermelons were sold in Odessa. We ate some watermelon, and then it was time for my father to leave again. He kissed us "goodbye" and said, '"Guys, take care of your mother'". These were his last words. On 8th October his military unit relocated to Vodoprovodnaya Street. My mother visited him there. When my mother left she saw a truck. She called his name, and he waved to her. This was the last time she saw him alive. He perished in the vicinity of Sevastopol in 1941.

Since we were the family of a military officer, the military authorities provided a truck for our family to evacuate during the last days before the occupation. My grandmother packed all her belongings, but we were told that about 20 other people had to fit into the truck and that we couldn't take that much with us. My grandmother refused to go if she couldn't take her luggage with her. My mother couldn't leave her alone, so we all stayed.

On 16th October the Romanians entered Odessa [during the Romanian occupation of Odessa 15]. At about 6am military trucks were driving along Staroportofrankovskaya Street from the side of Dalnik 16. Some people were scared to see them, others welcomed them,r like Fedosey's wife, thatwho came out of her apartment to greet them with an icon. I guess, even people like her were sick and tired of the Soviet regime. Fedosey was constantly called to the NKVD office, where he was interrogated about people he knew during the purges [the Great Terror]. Innocent people were arrested at night, and he had to be present during that ordeal. This old woman, whothat came out to bless the Romanian soldiers with an icon, suffered about a week later under them. Romanian soldiers took away her silver dressing icon in a silver dressing and aher silver cross. They took away people's belongings, and if they faced any resistance they shot people. One of those days a girl my age said to me, '"You, damn zhyd [kike]'". I don't know whether she understood what she was saying. I said in response, '"You're a zhydovka yourself'". [Editor's note: The girl was Russian, but Leonid did not realize the very meaning of the word and thought it to be a pure insult.]

On 19th October an order was attached onto the wall of our housebuilding for all Jews to take thhings and food for three days, give the keys to their apartments to a janitor and walk in the direction of Dalnik, where labor camps were to be formed. Regretfully, many people followed this order. My grandfather's former partner, Nisgoltz, came to see my mother and toask my mother, her '"Madam Dusman, will you go to Dalnik?'" My mother was a smart woman. She replied, '"I'm Madam Dusman while I'm at home. The moment I leave my home I will become a nobody'". She didn't follow a single order as long as her disobedience wouldn't result in a possible execution. Her attitude saved us. All Jews who went to Dalnik that day perished.

On 22nd October 1941 there was an explosion in the building of the commandant's office. When the Soviet troops were retreating they mined it. When the Romanian headquarters settled down there the building was blasted. The Romanians issued an order to execute two civilians for each perished Romanian soldier. The next day the town was patrolled by Romanian soldiers and local policemen. They captured all anyone they saw, regardless of nationality, .and They hung some of thempeople. There were hung men on all acacia trees in Odessa. There were corpses of dead people in Alexandrovskiy Garden. This was the first time I saw people being hung. It was really terrible, I was horrified. We, boys, watched all this from the surrounding ruins.

On 24th October people were taken out of ourtheir houses to jail. In the evening we :- my mother, my grandmother, my brother and I - were also taken to jail. My mother had made bags with dried bread and tinned meat that I had brought from a food storage facility hit by a bomb. She also sewed our valuables into our clothes: rings, chains and golden coins". She also had her wedding ring, signed '"Misha.20.01.20'". She sewed it into a button on a silk lace. She kept this ring throughout all searches and didn't part with it, not even during the hardest times. It was our talisman. She believed that we would perish if she lost that ring. I had my father's military certificate sewed into the liner of my jacket. It was a small piece of paper and nobody discovered it during the searches. The place was dark and stuffed with people. It smelled of sewerage. . We found a spot near the wall and settled there. I put my head on my mother's lap, and we spent the nights like this.

On the morning of 25th October men were taken to work. They went to dismantle barricades, but the most horrific work was the removal of mines from the airfield. People had to march along the field. They did it many times during the day. At the end of the day the Romanians shot the survivors to keep this activity a secret. When a water pipe was installed in the late 1970s they discovered a big burial pit.

My brother was in one of those groups. We believe that my brother perished at the gunpowder storage facilities. 25,000 people were burnt there, including prisoners of war. When my brother didn't return in the evening of 25th October my mother's hair turned gray overnight.

Life went on. We didn't have anything to eat. My mother gave a golden item to a Romanian guard as a bribe for letting her out of prison to get some food. My grandmother and I stayed behind as hostages. My mother went to our house. Our neighbors gave her some food and made some mamaliga). We stayed in jail for about a month. We were released in December. When we returned to our apartment there was nothing left in it; it had been totally plundered by the Romanians. Silva, our dog, was waiting for us at the door. We had no food. My mother went to the market to exchange things for food. Her former patients dropped some food into her basket and told her to go away to escape from raids.

After we had returned from jail, my grandmother fell into depression. She asked my mother's forgiveness. My mother just answered, '"Don't mention it'". By that time we knew that my brother had perished, and we had no information about my father. One morning my grandmother didn't come out of her room. She hung herself on the chandelier. Our neighbor helped us to take her down. In this terrible time, when people were shot in the streets, my mother and Aunt Raya managed to find a person who made a coffin. They brought my grandmother to the Jewish cemetery in Slobodka 17. There was only a guard at the cemetery, an old Jewish man. He said, '"Madam, you're a holy woman. People don't bury the dead nowadays and dog's are gnawing at the bodies in the streets. Is this your mother?'" My mother replied, '"No, this is my mother-in-law'". He was stunned.

On 10th January 1942 Jews were ordered to move to Slobodka. My mother, Aunt Raya and I went there, too Slobodka. It was 25 degrees below zero. Sophia Mikhailovna, our neighbor, a teacher, took us to a house in Slobodka, where Russian teachers, her acquaintances, lived. It was a small house with the toilet outside. We were happy to get even that small room because many people had to stay outside and froze to death. During that time, Ssome Jews in Odessa came up with a great idea: they paid Pyntia, the mayor of Odessa, with gold and set up a hospital for Jews in a tuberculosis dispensary in Slobodka. Doctor Petrushkin was one of directors of this hospital,. Professors Adesman, Sribner and others worked there, too. - it's difficult to name all of them. Aunt Raya was one of the best surgery nurses in Odessa. These people knew her well, so she got a job in this hospital. She helped my mother and me get into this hospital as patients. We stayed there until 13th February 1942.

On 13th February a large group of Jews was taken to Sortirovochnaya railway station. We were in this group: my mother, Aunt Raya, and me. We were put into freight railcars and the train started moving. My mother made me stamp my feet to keep warm. We reached Berezovka station from where we walked on foot. We walked for a whole day. I got exhausted, but my mother kept pulling me. 'Go, go'," she kept saying. When we reached the village we were taken to a pigsty. My mother found a spot near the wall. I put my head in her lap and hid my hands in her armpits. My mother held Raya, thatwho was also exhausted. wWe were wrapping ourselves into a flannel blanket breathing into it the whole night. In the morning we continued walking. There were women from villages on the sides of the road exchanging food for clothes. Many of these women just gave what they had when they looked into the eyes of hungry children. I was cold and couldn't walk. My mother kept saying, '"Lyonia, we need to go. We have to do it for the sake of your father and Boris. Daddy told you to take care of me'". I understaoond that she had little hope, but she knew how to touch my heart. A village woman gave us a hot pot with potatoes when she saw our suffering. She just told us to take it. I warmed my hands on this pot.

We camearrived in Mostovoye village [130 km from Odessa]. A group of people stayed in Mostovoye, and the rest of us carried on. Later we found out that those who stayed in Mostovoye were executed the following night. We reached Domanevka [160 km from Odessa] where we were taken to a building that looked like a shop. It was full of snow and garbage. On the next day we were taken to work. All inmates were taken to a spot where village headmen from surrounding villages selected people for work. We Ten of us, including my mother, Aunt Raya and me, were taken to Maloye village ([today Alexandrodar nowadays]).There were ten of us We rode eight kilometers to this village on a horse-driven toboggan. When we arrived we were taken to a well-heated room. A handsome woman came in with a bowl of dumplings stuffed with potatoes and sprinkled with oil and onions. We had dinner and slept in the warmth for the first time in a long time.

In the morning a former local teacher, Bilionov, came in. He had worked in the Soviet school in the village during the Soviet regime and for the Romanians during the war. He ordered us to move to a cold house with ground floors. We received 200 grams of mamaliga per day. Villagers got to know that my aunt was a medical nurse and my mother a doctor, and they began to ask for their help. People were loyal to us. Those, who had something against Jews, just ignored us. Only Bilionov tried to do us harm whenever he could. In the spring my mother injured her leg. The injury began to suppurate. There was no medication. She was concerned of blood poisoning. She told me that her situation with the leg might result in her death and that it might happen in two weeks. Bilionov still made my mother go to work. She worked standing on one leg. A villager saw her leg and said that he had manganese solution. He also advised her to apply plantain leaves to the injury. This helped and she got well.

I was only eleven years old then,. I was very weak and couldn't work in the field. The headman of the village, Diomid Ivanovich Moskalchuk, saved my life. He took me to his house to shepherd his cows. At first I was afraid of cows and had no idea how to handle them. Once a village boy called mye by my name, and when I came closer, he gave me a piece of bread and pork fat. He told me to share this food with the girl in our group. This boy, Petro Moldavanenko, became my friend. We are still friends. Usually I got up early in the morning, and the headman's wife gave me a mug of milk and a piece of bread. I took the cows to the pasture and came back with them in the afternoon. The headman's wife went to milk the cows, and gave me a bowl of borsch for lunch. I got strongr. I brought my mother whatever food I could. Diomid Ivanovich took care of us for eight months - God bless him.

At the end of September 1942 our quiet life in Maloye village came to an end. All Jews were gathered in Domanevka for registration to be distributed to camps. Our family was sent to the Frunze collective farm 18. We lived in barracks. There were about 250 Jews in this camp and 25 of us in a barrack. We slept on straw, which was replaced once a month. The straw was burnt. I picked wormwood that we slept on to avoid infections. My mother got very weak and fell ill with jaundice. Diomid Ivanovich heard about it and brought her honey and apples. She recovered. The Romanians summoned us to a call-over every morning and evening. There were also Soviet prisoners of war in the camp. Later the Romanians brought gypsies to the camp. Those who were in the Domanevka camp will always remember the names of Moshe and Gedaliye. They were Jews from Bessarabia 19 and served as policemen for Romanians. They took away people's clothes and gold and picked pretty girls to entertain themselves and the Romanians. They patrolled the camp with heavy sticks. They joined the Romanians when they were retreating.

I remember Yom Kippur of 1942. The Romanians allowed the Jews to get together for a prayer. The men went into a room. There were rabbis and cantors among us. They had thalesestallit and twilnstefillin. They put on their ritual clothing and began to pray. Women began to cry. There were Romanian soldiers outside. When they heard what was going on they took off their hats and stood silent. This was unforgettable.

At the end of 1943 the Romanians left. The Germans arrived to replace them. Vlasov 20 troops and Kalmyks 21 came along with them. The Kalmyks rode horses wearing khaki German uniforms and hats with fox tails attached to them. They had lots of weapons. They were merciless to both Jews and Russians. The Germans behaved differently from what they were like in 1941. Some of them had been in Stalingrad where Germany suffered a great defeat in 1943.

In the spring of 1944 we lived with the Yampolskiy family in a small shed on the outskirts of the village. The Yampolskiy family consisted of three people: Miron Solomonovich, his wife Bertha and her sister, Polina Abramovna. They spoke three languages fluently. Before the Revolution of 1917 Miron had been a trader in Europe. He lived in Berlin, Rome and Paris. When the Romanians knocked on our door at night, Miron answered themn in German and they left. I remember the last days before the liberation:. tThere was a pretty 16-year-old Jewish girl in our camp called Manya Bakhmach. Her parents were hiding her and painted her face to make her look ugly. A Vlasov soldier noticed her nonetheless and grabbed her. She escaped and ran into our shed for shelter. We managed to hide her in the straw when the Vlasov trooper came in with a gun in his hand '"Where is she?', he asked." We pretended we didn't understand what he was talking about. He swore and left. When we pushed the straw aside we found Manya unconscious. We took her to a village woman where she stayed in safety for some time.

The Soviet army came on 28th March 1944.. AA day before the firing began I learnt from the village boys that the Soviet troops were close to our place. There were still Vlasov soldiers left in the village. I wanted to run to where the Soviet troops were. I thought I could show them a shorter way to the village - I knew every stone in the pavement. In the morning somebody knocked on our door. We opened the door and saw a huge man with a red star on his uniform. Women hugged and kissed him. We ran out and the first question we asked was, '"Guys, is it true that there are no Jews among you?'" All we heard in occupation was that there were no Jews in the Soviet army, just Russian soldiers. Then I heard one of them say, '"Well, you bet there are Jews among us. Abram, come here!'" I saw Abram with his pink complexion".. He said he was from Moscow. We made sure there were Jews in the army, and our hope that my father was still alive was restored. The Soviet army of 1944 was different from what it was like at the beginning of the war.

We were all interrogated at the field commandant office and released, even though we didn't have any documents with us. - oOurcase with documents and photographs had already been taken from us in the ghetto. We wanted to go to Odessa, but there were still Romanians in Odessa. We stayed in the village for 12 days until Odessa was liberated. Then we went to Odessa on foot. We obtained a residential certificate in the Primorskiy district executive committee, which enabled us to move into our former apartment. Another familypeople - a husband, wife and their small daughter - resided in our apartment, but they let us in when we showed them our residential certificate.

They were a husband and wife and their small daughter. My mother needed to obtain a passport [identity card]. The only document we had with us was my father's war certificate that I had kept in the lining of my jacket. There was also a certificate issued by the commandant office when we were liberated. We went to the militia office. When we showed our documents the militiaman on duty asked us, '"Why didn't they kill you?'" His words were an abuse. My mother said to him, '"All healthy men are at the front while you sit here in the office. Your work could be done by a woman or an invalid man'". He got very angry. My mother said, '"We survived because people saved us, only that they were a little different than you'".

My mother obtained her passport. Then we went to the m8ilitary registration office where we received food coupons and rationed food packages. I got a monthly allowance of 200 rubles because I was the son of a military. A loaf of bread cost 200 rubles at the Privoz market. My mother's friend, Shura Morosova, had saved a number of valuable things of ours while we were in the ghetto. My father's suit was altered for me by a tailor. After the liberation we began to search for my father to learn something about his possible fate. Anywhere we enquired we got the answer that his name wasn't on any of the lists of the lost, killed and wounded. My mother had lost her medical certificate, but she still needed to get a job.She lost her medical certificate Doctor Thompson, a Russian woman, helped her. She hired my mother as a dentist for the Maternity Welfare Clinic. My mother's last place of work was the Red Profinter Plant. It's a factory of piston rings at present. My mother worked there until 1952 when the dDoctors' cPlot 22 began (14). Many Jewish doctors were fired then. My mother was 56 years old and she retired. I began to work in 1952 .

I didn't study during the occupation and had forgotten how to read. I returned to school in May 1944. I was at school for 20 days before the academic year was over in 20 days. My mother's acquaintance, Vera Nikolaevna Berchenko, gave private lessons. She gave me free classes. She was a very good teacher of mathematics, history and Russian. We completed the program of the 5th grade during the summer vacations. In the fall I went to the 6th grade. I was 14. I went to a boy's school. We were all children of the war: Russian or Jewish; it didn't matter. OurOut fathers were at the front. We all tried to support our mothers. I sold water at the Privoz market. I had my own clients when all of a sudden local boys put an end to my activities. My competitors demanded that I paid bribes or they would beat me. When I told my mother about it she told me to stay away from the Privoz market.

I was lucky with my school: our teacher of Russian and literature, Boris Efimovich Druker, was a popular teacher in Odessa Boris Efimovich Druker. He was brilliant. I was one of his first pupils. It was a hard time, we got a bun and a teaspoon of sugar at school. Like all other boys, I was a hooligan. I finished the 7th grade at the age of 17. My mother and I decided that there was no sense for me to get a higher secondary education. I entered the Automotive Technical School in 1947. There were only boys in our group. I finished this school with honors. When I started to study there, I decided that I wasn't going to join the Komsomol league. I remembered my arrested uncles, but my group mates valued me highly and wanted me to be their Komsomol leader. Frankly speaking, I generally liked to be a leader so I became a Komsomol member. I was promoted to Komsomol leader. I was even offered to work at the district Komsomol committee, but I refused due to my Jewish nationality. Just at that time, in 1949, the campaigns against 'cosmopolitans' 23 began, and anti-Semitism was quite evident in public life.

I was very enthusiastic about the establishment of Israel. We were glad that the USSR was the second country after the US to recognize Israel. Soviet newspapers wrote that '"Israel is a new democratic state in the Middle East'". I remember a crowd of Jews standing in circle around a sailor from Israel in Odessa port. He was telling them about Israel, the kibbutz communities and the war for independence. He spoke in Russian. [Editor's note: For the most part Jews in the USSR were Soviet patriots and did not want to emigrate in those times.]

In 1952, when I finished technical school, our Komsomol organization recommended me to become a party member. I joined the Communist Party in 1952. Before I became a party member my personal file was submitted to the KGB office to be checked. There was a certificate in it that stated that there were no compromising facts in my life. This was a necessary procedure considering that I had been on occupied territory during the war. After I finished technical school in 1952, the director of the piston plant, thatwho taught science in our school, offered me employment at his plant. I began to work there.

When Stalin died I was a production engineer at the piston rings plant. I was grieving over Stalin. I didn't associate the events of 1937 [the so- called Great Terror] with Stalin. Many people worried about what was going to happen to them. I remember standing guard of honor beside the bust of Stalin at the plant. I also wore a black mourning armband. [Editor's note: Leonid, as most Soviet people, thought Stalin to be an undeniable and unique leader, and his death a historical tragedy. He started associating the events of the Great Terror with Stalin after Khrushchev's speech in 1956, during the Twentieth Party Congress. 24]

I worked at this plant for seven years. At 25 I became chief production engineer. The director of the plant recommended me for the position of the Komsomol leader of the plant.I was lucky to meet nice people in life. They always supported me. I quit working at the plant in 1958 for a job in the design office of the KINAP Plant [cinema equipment plant]. This was a better-paid job. I worked there for two years and studied by correspondence at Leningrad Industrial Institute. Later I switched to the Faculty of Production Units and Tools at the Polytechnic Institute in Odessa (Faculty of production units and tools). I worked at the KINAP Plant from 1959 to 1961.

After all I had to go through I was quite an introverted person in my private life. I read a lot and went to the theater. I met girls, but they didn't touch my heart. I only wanted to marry a Jewish girl. My mother shared this decision of mine. During the war I witnessed Russian wives reporting on their Jewish husbands, although some of them also rescued their husbands. In 1957 I met a girl, Ludmila Karachun, at a party at our plant. Ludmila was Jewish. She was born in Odessa in 1936. She worked at the design office and studied at the Polytechnic Institute. I met her again half a year later and fell in love with her. I dated her for a year and a half. She turned out to be a real friend. We got married on 5th December 1959. I wanted to have many children. Our daughter, Marina, was born in 1960 was born and our son, Michael, in 1967. I always helped my wife about the house. It's still customary in our house to share things, whether it's money or house chores.

My wife's father, Grigory Karachun, was born in Odessa in 1910. He finished rRabfak 25(factory trade school), graduated from the Industrial Institute and worked as designer at the design office of the plant named after Lenin. During the Great Patriotic War he wasn't subject to recruitment to the army due to illness and evacuated to Sterlitamak with his family. He had ulcer and worked with hot bricks tied to his abdomen. After the war the Ministry of Industries sent him to restore production units in Odessa. My wife's mother, Anna Karachun, graduated from the Medical Institute in 1936. During the war she worked as a doctor in a hospital in Sterlitamak. -After the war she was the manager of the cardiologic department at the Russia Recreation Center". My wife's grandmother, Fira, wasn't religious. She was a housewife and helped to take care of her granddaughter. She helped me and treated me very kindly.

I went to work at the plant of radial units in 1961. I became a designer at the design office,. and I worked at this plant for 30 years until 1991. I becamethen the supervisor of a department. I wasn't promoted higher due to my nationality. I had many patents. I took part in the start up of an automatic line at the Volzhskiy Automobile Plant. At work I got the opportunity to buy a car without having to stand in line for a few years, which was quite an ordinary thing at the time. I worked at this plant for 30 years until 1991. I retired when I turned 60,. but I continued to work at my private business: I designed production units. and mMy wife and I were doing fine.

Our daughter graduated from the fFaculty of mMathematics at Odessa University. She was a teacher at a secondary school for ten years. She married Alexandr Buberman,. a Jew, Hewho graduated from the Institute of Communications. They've been together for 20 years. They have two children: Dima, who studies at Odessa University, and Boria, who studies at grammar school. My son-in-law is a successful businessman. He owns a furniture manufacture facility. My daughter works for him as an economist and chief accountant. HerMy son graduated from the pPolytechnic Institute. He served in the army in Azerbaijan, 40 kilometers from Baku). He also owns a furniture shop. He's been married for 15 years. His wife, Natasha Medzhybovskaya, is Jewish. She lectures at the University of Economics. She is candidate of economic sciences. Their son, Stasik, studies at grammar school.

There are 11 of us in my family: my wife and I, our children, grandchildren and my in-laws. We get together for all the birthdays of my relatives and on holidays. We mainly celebrate Soviet holidays: New Year's, 1st May and October Revolution Day 26. Our mostly cherished holiday was 9th May, Victory Day [the official date of the victory over Nazi Germany in the USSR]. On Pesach we always had matzah, we bought it at the synagogue in Peresyp 27. My mother, who lived with us, taught my wife how to cook gefilte fish. My children knew they were Jewish. They studied in a Soviet school and had both Jewish and Russian friends. In my house we used to read a lot. We liked to go to the theater. We were fond of guest performances from Moscow and Leningrad.

In the 1960s I built a summerhouse in Bolshoy Fontan [a recreation zone in Odessa]. In the summer we went there for vacations. I enjoyed these gatherings as much as my parents did. My mother died in 1984. When she was dying she bequeathed me to burn my father's belongings after her death and to bury her. She took off her wedding ring and gave it to me. She was devoted to her husband her whole life. Some years ago I met Boris Gelman, a journalist from Sevastopol, who helped me to get information about my father's death. My father served in the hospital of the 172 division in Sevastopol and perished in November 1941 when the ship Armenia sunk.

In 1989 I read in the newspapers that an aAssociation of fFormer iInmates of gGhettos and cCamps was being established in our country. I took an active part in the organization of such a society, and thus an association of former inmates of ghettos and camps was also established in Odessa in 1991. Anna Kelina, a doctor from Odessa, was elected first chairwoman. of this association She's a very respectable lady. In the association I met Boris Gidalevich thatwho compiled a Book of Memory about Jews who had perished in Odessa. I helped him to install memorials at the locations of mass executions of Jews in Odessa and Nikolaev region. Gidalevich moved to Israel in 1996.

I continued to collect all data about those who had perished. I began to write a book of my memoirs. "Or Sameach", a Jewish newspaper, published my memoirs. I took children from the Or Sameach school 28 to the places of mass executions of Jews during the Great Patriotic War. After that the children wrote compositions, which were very touching. I sent lots of documents related to the extermination of Jews in Odessa region to Yad Vashem 29 in Israel. This museum authorized me to collect these documents from the archives of our town. I collected some material and wrote a book, ("Remember and Prevent,") on the basis of this material. It was published in Odessa in 2002. I don't go to the synagogue, but I think that my activities are of importance to the Jewish community in Odessa.

My family background
Growing up
My school years
During the war
Post-war
My husband
My present-day life

1 Guild I

In tsarist Russia merchants belonged to Guild I, II or III. Merchants of Guild I were allowed to trade with foreign merchants, while the others were allowed to trade only within Russia.

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 WWI, 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 Odessa pogrom in 1905

This was the severest pogrom in the history of the city; more than 300 Jews were killed and thousands of families were injured. Among the victims were over 50 members of the Jewish self-defense movement. Flats, shops and small enterprises were looted by the pogromists. The police stood by and did not defend the Jewish population.

4 Black Hundred

The Black Hundred was an extreme right wing party which emerged at the turn of the twentieth century in Russia. This group of radicals increased in popularity before the beginning of the Revolution of 1917 when tsarism was in decline. They found support mainly among the aristocrats and members other lower-middle class. The Black Hundred were the perpetrators of many Jewish pogroms in Russian cities such as Odessa, Kiev, Yekaterinoslav and Bialystok. Although they were nowhere near a major party in Russia, they did make a major impact on the Jews of Russia, who were constantly being oppressed by their campaigns.

5 NEP

6 Jewish self-defense movement

In Russia Jews organized self-defense groups to protect the Jewish population and Jewish property from the rioting mobs in pogroms, which often occurred in compliance with the authorities and, at times, even at their instigation. During the pogroms of 1881-82 self-defense was organized spontaneously in different places. Following pogroms at the beginning of the 20th century, collective defense units were set up in the cities and towns of Belarus and Ukraine, which raised money and bought arms. The nucleus of the self-defense movement came from the Jewish labor parties and their military units, and it had a widespread following among the rest of the people. Organized defense groups are known to have existed in 42 cities.

7 Great Patriotic War

8 Domanevka

District town in Odessa region. Hundreds of thousands Jews were exterminated in the camp located in this town during the war.

9 Komsomol

10 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.

11 Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971)

12 Rehabilitation in the Soviet Union

Many people who had been arrested, disappeared or killed during the Stalinist era were rehabilitated after the 20th Congress of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in 1956, where Khrushchev publicly debunked the cult of Stalin and lifted the veil of secrecy from what had happened in the USSR during Stalin's leadership. It was only after the official rehabilitation that people learnt for the first time what had happened to their relatives as information on arrested people had not been disclosed before.

13 Civil War (1918-1920)

14 NKVD

People's Committee of Internal Affairs; it took over from the GPU, the state security agency, in 1934.

15 Romanian occupation of Odessa

Romanian troops occupied Odessa in October 1941. They immediately enforces anti-Jewish measures. Following the Antonescu-ordered slaughter of the Jews of Odessa, the Romanian occupation authorities deported the survivors to camps in the Golta district: 54,000 to the Bogdanovka camp, 18,000 to the Akhmetchetka camp, and 8,000 to the Domanevka camp. In Bogdanovka all the Jews were shot, with the Romanian gendarmerie, the Ukrainian police, and Sonderkommando R, made up of Volksdeutsche, taking part. In January and February 1942, 12,000 Ukrainian Jews were murdered in the two other camps. A total of 185,000 Ukrainian Jews were murdered by Romanian and German army units.

16 Dalnik

Village 20 km from Odessa, the site of mass executions of Jews during the war.

17 Slobodka

Neighborhood on the outskirts of Odessa.

18 Collective farm (in Russian kolkhoz)

19 Bessarabia

Historical area between the Prut and Dnestr rivers, in the southern part of Odessa region. Bessarabia was part of Russia until the Revolution of 1917. In 1918 it declared itself an independent republic, and later it united with Romania. The Treaty of Paris (1920) recognized the union but the Soviet Union never accepted this. In 1940 Romania was forced to cede Bessarabia and Northern Bukovina to the USSR. The two provinces had almost 4 million inhabitants, mostly Romanians. Although Romania reoccupied part of the territory during World War II the Romanian peace treaty of 1947 confirmed their belonging to the Soviet Union. Today it is part of Moldavia.

20 Vlasov military

21 Kalmyk

A nationality living on the Lower Volga in Russia. During World War military formations set up by Kalmyk prisoners of war fought on the side of the Germans.

22 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.

23 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 antisemitic 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'.

24 Twentieth Party Congress

25 Rabfak

Educational institutions for young people without secondary education, specifically established by the Soviet power.

26 October Revolution Day

27 Peresyp

An industrial neighborhood in the outskirts of Odessa.

28 Or Sameach school in Odessa

Founded in 1994, this was the first private Jewish school in the city after Ukraine became independent. The language of teaching is Russian, and Hebrew and Jewish traditions are also taught. The school consists of a co-educational primary school and a secondary school separate for boys and for girls. It has about 500 pupils every year.

29 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'.

Rakhil Givand-Tikhaya

Rakhil Givand-Tikhaya with mother Rebecca Givand and aunt Tatiana Vodotiyevskaya.

Rakhil Givand-Tikhaya
Kiev
Ukraine
Interviewer: Vladimir Zaidenberg

My name is Givand Rakhil Grigoriyevna, and I was born on January 23,1928, in Kiev.

My parents, Gersh Shimonovich Givand and Rebecca Yakovlevna Givand, lived indowntown Kiev on Tarasovskaya Street, while my mother's mother, mygrandmother, Sonya Eidelman, lived in a private house on the left bank ofthe Dnieper River, in an area called Slobodka.

My great-grandmother, Genya Grubman, also lived in that house. Iremember her very well. She was very old, but was always glad to see me.She often told me stories about the histories, traditions and religions ofJewish folk. At home, my great-grandmother no longer worked around thehouse, but she was a very wise woman, and many people turned to her foradvice on how to deal with one or another of life's situations. Great-grandmother was very religious. I don't remember how religious holidayswere celebrated at her house, but I know for sure that all the Jewishtraditions were kept very strictly while she was still alive.

She had a special place in the synagogue. She read the Torah out loudand other women repeated the passages after her. She was one of the fewwomen there who could read and understand the Torah, so she read it for theother women who came together in the synagogue, and then explained it tothem.

My great-grandmother died in 1936. I remember her funeral very well,first of all, because it was the first funeral ceremony I had everattended, and secondly, because it was carried out according to Jewishtraditions. I remember entering the house on the day of the funeral andsaying "Hello" to everyone. An old Jewish man replied, "Child, you shouldnot say "hello" today - you have a dead body in your house". My great-grandmother was lying on the floor, on straw, with no coffin. The ceremonyincluded neither music nor flowers. Two candles were lit behind her headand prayers were read out loud by the men, while the women listened fromanother room. Great-grandmother was taken to the cemetery without a coffinand was buried wrapped in a cloth. I remember that the men said many, manyprayers that day, in a language I could not understand. I also rememberthat my grandmother and my mother tore their dresses. My mother explainedto me that this was done in accordance with Jewish law.

My grandmother, Sonya Eidelman (maiden name: Grubman), also lived inSlobodka. I never knew my grandfather, as I was born after he died.

I know about my grandfather from the stories told by my mother. Hisname was Yakov Eidelman. I believe he had no education, but by nature was avery gifted person. He worked with his hands and was involved in commerce.Before the Revolution, he was quite rich. He had lived in America, where hehad run his own business. People said he even owned his own houses there.He wanted his wife and children to join him there, but since his wife wasvery ill and doctors had forbidden her to cross the ocean on a steamship,he had to return to Russia.

In Slobodka the family owned a house and a shop. The shop traded infoodstuffs and necessities. My grandfather was very prosperous. The shopwas located in their house. Many residents of Slobodka, both Jews andUkrainians, bought products from his shop and treated my grandfather andhis family with great respect.

My grandfather was very religious. When he left America, he broughtback with him a lot of different talit, as well as other religious objectsfor the synagogue. My mother said that he would always wear a yarmulke anda hat. His day always started with prayer. In his house, they always keptSabbath and every Jewish holiday. Grandmother was also very religious, andthey both attended a synagogue in Slobodka. There were two synagogues inSlobodka at that time, but I remember only one of them, the big one. It wasdirectly across from the tram stop where we got off when we came from thetown. Every Saturday, my grandfather went to this synagogue.

Jewish pogroms began during the Civil War (1917-1922).It happened in 1918 or 1919. The army of General Denikin was in Kiev then,and its soldiers attacked and ruined Jewish homes, killing men, rapingwomen, and confiscating and destroying property. During the pogroms theJews would hide in their houses and basements, but my grandfather was acourageous man, who feared nothing and was convinced that nothing wouldtouch his family because the local Ukrainian population was very nice tohim. He hoped they would protect him. But as it happened, no one had timeto protect him for a soldier suddenly ran up to his house, stabbed himthree times and left. My grandfather lost a lot of blood and died rightthere, at the doorway of his house.

My grandparents had four daughters and a son. The eldest daughter andthe son died as babies from scarlet fever; I don't even know their names.Three daughters were left: Tatiana, who was born in 1902, my mother, whowas born in 1904, and Maria, who was born in 1913.

Before getting married all of them lived in grandfather's house inSlobodka. I remember that house very well. In the beginning of the 1930sthe house was remodeled. In the old house all the rooms were small, whilein the remodeled house they were united and made large. The house was madeof wood with an iron roof; there were two porches that faced the street andthe backyard. There were four large rooms and a kitchen. The toilet and thewell were outside. The house had good wooden furniture, for my grandparentswere not poor. There were also nice bronze candleholders and beautifulsilver dishes.

They had no garden in the yard, but auxiliary premises and a barnwith two cows. I remember these very well because every time we came tovisit I always had fresh milk to drink.

My grandmother had no servants; she had to work around the house onher own. That is why when grandfather died, my mother and her sisters hadto start helping around the house, milking the cows, and selling the milkin order to survive.This is all I know and remember about my relatives on my mother's side.

My father, Gersh Shimonovich Givand, was born in 1904 in the town ofVolodarka, outside Belaya Tserkov, in the area of Kiev. His parents, mygrandparents, Shimon and Anna Givand, were also killed in pogroms. Besidesthat, my father's elder sister Rukhlya was also killed. The pogroms wereterrible; entire Jewish families were murdered. I cannot tell you abouttheir deatsh in more detail because my father never told me much, sparingmy childish sensibility.

I know that following that pogrom three brothers remained: my fatherwas the eldest, then came Israel, born in 1908, and finally the youngest -Naum, born in 1912.

An interesting incident in the life of the middle brother, Israel,follows. During one of the pogroms, when Jews were being killed, a richneighbor, whose name I don't know, had hidden his money in Israel's shoe.Nobody knows what happened to that man, he may have been killed, too, buthis money remained in Israel's shoe. Once, when Israel saw that GeneralDenikin's soldiers wanted to throw his neighbor Lipa Novichenko into awell, Israel ran up to them and said, "I will give you money, if you'lljust let this man go". The soldiers took the money and let Lipa go, andLipa bowed down with gratitude before my father and his brothers for therest of his life; he also helped them a lot.

After they lost their parents, the brothers were put into anorphanage, but I don't remember much about that time. I know that Lipahelped them a lot, including with their education. Unfortunately, all threebrothers were killed in the Second World War.

My father finished forestry college around 1927, and then worked inan organization that dealt with the transportation of wood. He had a goodposition and our material life was pretty good.

My mother had no secondary education, because after the death of herfather she had to stop studying in order to help in the shop and around thehouse.

I don't know how my parents met, but when they married they moved toNo. 16, Tarasovskaya Street. My father worked at a plant then and he wasgiven a room in a basement. That's where I was born. It was in the citycenter, and "kikes"1 were forbidden to live in that street. I canremember the sign that said that - it was fixed to one of our houses.Later, we moved to another flat on the same street, in house No. 8.

The room was in a communal flat, and was quite large. We had goodfurniture for that time, and many books, including books in Yiddish; italso had a piano, which I was learning to play. Apart from us, there werefive more neighbor families in the flat. We had a communal kitchen with atable, and a closet for each family. There were two toilets, but they werecommunal, so in the mornings we sometimes had to queue. We had a commonelectricity-meter, and every family paid according to the number of peoplein each. The relations between the neighbors were quite peaceful; I don'tmean that we were all friends, but we never quarreled.

In general, we had mostly Jewish families in our flat, but there wasalso one German.

I remember one old Jew, our neighbor, who lived alone. Everyone calledhim grandfather Nudelman. I loved him very much. He was very religious, andhe taught me Yiddish. He told me, "If you mom does not want to tell yousomething in Yiddish, come to me." So, I learned my first Yiddish wordsfrom him. My parents spoke Yiddish only when they did not want me tounderstand, so every time it happened, I ran to grandfather Nudelman and hetranslated for me what they had said.

At our house we did not celebrate any Jewish holidays because myfather was a member of the Communist Party and feared that someone at hisworkplace might learn that he celebrated Jewish holidays at home and reporthim to the authorities. My mother exchanged whispers with grandfatherNudelman and arranged religious celebrations on their own. On Pessach, shewould bring matzoh from grandmother, and the family would celebrate thisholiday with grandfather Nudelman. During the Second World War. GrandfatherNudelman was killed in Babi Yar (site of mass killings of Jews by Germansin Kiev).

But I remember very well how Jewish holidays were celebrated at mygrandmother's in Slobodka. On Pesach, all of her daughters with theirchildren would come together. On the eve of the Passover they would takeout all the bread, and wash and clean the entire flat. Then from the atticthey would take special kosher plates that were kept there in special boxesduring the whole year. They put matzoh, boiled potatoes, horse-radishes,boiled eggs, fish and everything else that was necessary on the table. Idon't remember who led the seder or how, but I remember how nice it wasafterwards. My grandmother had a gramophone on which she played Jewishrecords with songs on them, and we enjoyed ourselves. I don't remember theother holidays much. I remember that on Yom Kippur my mother always fasted,but I did not understand why. I also know that the husband of my mother'ssister Tatiana attended the synagogue regularly until it was closed a yearor two before the war [World War II]. Then he began to go to a house whereJewish men came together to pray.

My school years

In 1935 I started going to school, a Russian school. But there werechildren of different nationalities among the students: Russian, Ukrainian,and many Jewish. I was a very good student; I liked studying very much. Myfavorite subjects were humanities - literature and history. We also hadteachers of different nationalities, and the Jewish children at schoolnever sensed any anti-Semitism. For friends, I had children of differentnationalities, and we all were equal. I had music classes with a teacher athome, and our German neighbor taught me the German language. I don't knowhow she would have reacted to the war and to fascism because she diedbefore the war began, in 1938.

I was a young Pioneer and sang in the school band. I liked to wear thered Pioneer tie, and liked all the Pioneer demonstrations and ceremonies.But I never went to the Pioneer summer camps, I always spent summers withmy mother. We sang Soviet songs, both Russian and Ukrainian, and performedat amateur concerts. We even won prizes at school.

My father liked it very much. We always celebrated Soviet holidays athome - the Great October Revolution Day, and May Day, on May 1. My fatherliked big celebrations, so they invited a lot of guests, no matter whattheir nationality was. They had friends among the Russians and Ukrainianstoo. Relations between people of different nationalities were good backthen. Tables were full of delicious food, because my father liked whenpeople said, "Look, how Givand celebrates this holiday." He emphasizedcelebrations on Soviet rather than Jewish holidays, because repression andarrests started in those years, and he was frightened. My mother wasconcerned over the fact that she could not celebrate any Jewish holidays athome, and, as I mentioned before, she would bring matzoh from Slobodka andwould celebrate the Jewish holidays with grandfather Nudelman. I remembervery well how I was warned not to tell anyone that we had matzoh at ourhouse. By the way, not only Jews were afraid to celebrate their nationalholidays. I don't remember any Russian or Ukrainian children bringingEaster cakes on Easter. Their parents were also afraid that somebody mightlearn that they celebrated religious holidays. In those days the practiceof any religion was outside the law.

In 1937 repression and arrests started. I remember this very wellbecause we had a chair next to the door in our room, and a white bag wasalways lying on that chair. There was always fresh bread and some underwearin that bag - my mother was preparing for an arrest. Many Soviet workers,even common people, were arrested back then, including, some of ourfriends, but praise God, my father was spared.

In general, I had a happy childhood. I went to school, my family hadno financial need, and I was dearly loved by my parents, because I had nobrothers or sisters. My mother took me to resorts, for instance, toZheleznovodsk. In summer, my parents often rented dachas outside Kiev - inIrpen or Vorzel. My father received special tickets at work for rest inhealth centers and rest homes. So, in general, our life was good.

I knew nothing about Hitler or fascism. We were never told about it atschool. Perhaps the senior students knew something about fascism, but wewere too young to know. My parents probably knew about fascism and thethreat of war, and were concerned, but they spared me and did not tell meanything - until the war broke out, my childhood was marred by nothing.

On June 22, 1941, shells and bombs began to explode in the sky overKiev, and my mother would call me at the balcony and tell me, "Look,military exercises are underway". A little later, German bombs began toexplode.

One morning, there was a ring at the door, and my father was given acall-up paper from the military enlistment committee. He was an officer,who was in charge of political ideology in the army. But he was in thereserves, because the first time he had been called up was in 1939 duringthe Finnish War. Afterwards he was left in Kiev because peace was signedand he was too late to be sent to the front. This time, since he was anofficer in political ideology, he was taken to work on the mobilization ofpeople. People born in his year - 1904 - had not been not called up yet, sohe worked with the enlistment committee. But when he heard that both of hisyounger brothers were called up, he did not think it possible to stay inKiev and went to fight with them. None of them came back.

It so happened that we did not even have a chance to say goodbye to myfather. This is how it happened. As soon as the war broke out, my motherand I began to prepare for evacuation. My father told us that we would needto leave because Hitler would kill all the Jews - he already knew about it.Our mood was terrible. It was scary. I remember there were a lot ofrefugees from the western regions of Ukraine in Kiev, mostly Jews. Theywere settled in the Botanical Garden, not far from our house. It was awfulto look at them: old men, women and children, who had already seen theatrocities of the fascists. They lived on the bare ground, in tents. Mymother often went to see them, to give them some food and to talk to them.I remember she cried a lot. That is why there was no question in our familyabout whether we should evacuate or not. We knew about the fascists;certainly, we did not know what degree their persecutions would reach, buthad learned enough to be frightened badly.

The main question was how to evacuate from Kiev quickly with ourrelatives. Even though the government already knew about the atrocitiescommitted by the fascists against the Jews, no special Jewish evacuationwas organized.

The husband of my mother's elder sister Tatiana Ofman worked inDarnitsa at the train station. He arranged for us to be put on the trainand taken to evacuation. My uncle came to pick us up and put us on thetrain, and there we waited for several days. We did not take manybelongings with us because we thought we were only leaving for a week ortwo. We just took along some bed linen, my blanket, some clothes, and food- as much as a woman and a girl could carry. My mother kept looking out ofthe train windows to see if my father was coming. But my uncle told her,"Riva, don't wait for Grisha." He told us that my father had gone to thefront as a volunteer and purposely did not come to say goodbye to us. Hehad told my uncle, "If I come to say goodbye to Khila and Riva, I will notbe able to leave them. I will die with them." Neither of his brothers -Israel or Naum - came to say goodbye to us either. They all left, and theyall were killed.

We, however, went on to evacuation. With us we had mother's eldersister Tatiana Ofman with her children, Yelizaveta and Abram, along withmother's younger sister Maria Vodotiyevskaya with her children, Viktoriaand Yakov, and grandmother, mother's mother.

The families of my father's brothers, that is, the families of Israeland Naum stayed in Kiev - they were too late to move out. Both familieslived in one big flat, which occupied the whole floor of a house. Therewere 15 of them. One of the relatives worked in the People's Commissariatof the Interior, and she was promised a car to evacuate her family. Butwhen the car was provided, it was too late, Kiev was already encircled.They had to return and all of them were murdered at Babi Yar.

We traveled in heated railway cars and stopped first in Lozovaya.There was a terrible bombing raid there. For some time we lived in Lozovaya- my mother worked there on a collective farm and I helped her. But thisdid not last long. Soon, we were put on open railway platforms next to somemachine-guns and taken to Stalingrad and then to Perm. In the beginning welived at the Perm train station. Each of us had a corner in whch to keepour belongings. We received a piece of bread every day and some sort ofsoup. We washed in the toilet room at the station. During the day, ourmothers cleaned and washed floors at the station. It was very hard livingthere, but we could not leave because my cousin Yelizaveta fell sick withmeasles and was in Perm's hospital. We could not leave without her.

And there we were on that terrible day of September 29, 1941, when ourtroops surrendered Kiev. It was Yom Kippur, the Day of Judgment, and allthe adults, all the Jews who were at the train station fasted. I alsofasted for the first time in my life, and since that time I have beenkeeping this fast every year of my life. I still remember that day, whenall of us, roofless, fatherless, miserable Jews, were fasting and prayingfor our nation, for victory, for our fathers to come home alive, for ourMotherland. It was very had because on the eve of the fast we ate somesalty fish and we were very thirsty, but we could not drink, for it wasforbidden. All of us endured - we thought if we endured, everything wouldbe okay.

Then we wandered around the country. We stayed in Kokanda, where I gotill with meningitis and missed two years of school because of it. Livingthere was very hard - my mother worked at the collective farm to survive. Iremember being hungry all the time: we woke up and went to bed hungry. WhenI was ill, my mother sold everything we had in order to buy penicillin,otherwise I would have died. So, we were left with nothing - not even a bed-sheet or blanket. The only valuable my mother had was her wedding ring, andshe could not let it go. For a long time I walked on crutches because mylegs became infected and would not move.

At that time, the wife of Lipa Novichenko, who was rescued by Israel,found us. Lipa was no longer living, and his wife's second husband, GeorgyIvanovich Geshko, was the director of a film studio. He was Ukrainian, buthe helped us a lot. They took us to Tashkent and gave my mother work in thestudio's canteen; I went to school and our life became easier. I attended aregular secondary school, but there were many evacuated Jewish childrenthere. We stayed with a Russian family, renting a part of a room from them.Everyone treated us with compassion, and I don't remember being offended byanyone despite our Jewish origin. We had no news from my father or hisbrothers, but my mother and I lived with the hope that he was still alive.

During our evacuation in Tashkent, we learned about Babi Yar and thetragic fate of hundreds of thousands of Jews in the occupied territories,as well as the fate of Isare's and Naum's families.

As soon as Kiev was liberated we decided to go home, even though weknew there was nowhere to go. We knew this because Mr. Geshko went to Kievimmediately after its liberation on November 8, 1943, and from thereimmediately wrote us a letter. He had visited us there before the war, sohe went to see in what kind of condition our house was. It was gone. Therewas an ammunition warehouse next to it, and when the Germans wereretreating, they blew it up, so that every house around it was also burntdown.

We returned to Kiev together with the film studio. We traveled in goodrailway cars, but when we arrived, we had nowhere to stay.

We were given shelter by our neighbors, the Rymars, a Russian familywhich showed us a lot of compassion, and we stayed in their basement for along time. We had no possessions of our own: only one pair of shoes and 100rubles. A loaf of bread at the market cost 100 rubles. The Rymar familysaved us at that time. During the occupation they stayed in Kiev, and theytold us all the details about Babi Yar and related to us the horrors of theoccupation. Their life was not easy either, because some of their ancestorswere Jewish, and they also had to hide in Kiev.

In 1945 I received a letter concerning the death certificate of myfather, and later, another one concerning the deaths of his brothers Israeland Naum Givand. Because their families were dead, there was nobody else toreceive those letters. The brothers were killed somewhere outsideKremenchug during the first year of the war.

Family background
Growing up
During the War
After the War

In 1945 I attended a Russian school, but not the same one I hadattended earlier. In this school I learned all about anti-Semitism. Amongthe students, there were many Jewish children who had returned fromevacuation. The attitude of the non-Jewish children to us was horrible -the word "kike" could be heard on every step. Our teachers also secretlysupported the anti-Semites, offending us, and telling us that we had had agood time in Tashkent during the war - they said that to us, who lost ourfathers. They gave lower grades to the Jewish children, and constantlyfound fault with us. We had a girl in our class who managed to escape fromBabi Yar. I don't remember her name, I only know that somehow she hadcrawled out alive. She was teased, called a kike, and nobody had anycompassion for her - neither students, nor teachers. I still remember myafter-war school years with horror.

My mother continued to work at the film studio's canteen, and itsdirector continued to take care of us. We were given a room in a communalflat on Gorky Street, and we lived there for many years.

In 1948 I finished school and enrolled at the Light Industry Institute(the University). I had entry privileges at the university because myfather was killed in the war, and I passed all my exams with excellentmarks.

The beginning of the 1950s marks the start of an openly anti-Semiticcampaign know as the "Doctors' Case" and the fight against thecosmopolitans. When Staling died in 1953, I was part of the guard of honornear his portrait. We certainly did not link the government's policyagainst the Jews and all the repressions of the Soviet people with Stalin'sname. This policy of anti-Semitism certainly affected all of us Jewishstudents. Most of all, we felt it when graduates were sent to certainplaces of work after graduation. In those years, after graduation from auniversity, we could not work just anywhere, but had to work for threeyears at any place the university would send us.

I graduated from the university with honors, and according to therules I was supposed to be offered a good position, but I was one of thelast to be called up, and was offered a position in Siberia. This Irefused, because I could not leave my mother alone, so I did not sign thepaper. This process was repeated several times, until finally, I was sentto Kishenev, Moldavia. I worked in Kishenev for only a few months beforethe Control and Revision Department checked with my organization and toldthe director to "fire the kike." I was fired. But I was very happy toreturn to Kiev. I was not the only Jew who had such an experience. None ofthe other graduating Jews from our university were sent to a good place ofwork, either.

In Kiev I was once again reminded that I was a Jew. Having graduatedfrom a university, I still could not find a job. Only due to another Jew -the director of the "Nefteizmeritel" plant, was I hired to the Experimentaland Design Bureau, where I worked until my retirement on pension.

My mother was sick for many years, and I was very attached to her, soI had no time or opportunity to think about marriage. For many years Iremained single. My mother died in 1980. Finally, in 1986 I married.

My husband

My husband is the poet and writer Naum Meyerovich Shtilerman (Tikhiy).He was born on September 14, 1922, in the village of Emilchino, in theregion of Zhitomir.

His father, Meyer Shtilerman, was a druggist. They lived in thatUkrainian village. Naum's mother, Raisa Shtilerman, did not work outsidethe home; she was a housewife, and raised her children, her son Naum andtwo daughters, Dina and Buzya.

In 1937, Naum's father was arrested, charged with being a German spy,and was sent to penal servitude. He was imprisoned in the SolovetskyIslands. He was a very ill man, practically blind. There he contractedtuberculosis. He returned home only after Stalin's death, and soon died,too.

Naum and his sisters had attended a Ukrainian school, but were placedin a Jewish class. It was not a class in which Yiddish or Hebrew was thelanguage of tuition, but was simply a class into which all the Jewishchildren from the neighboring villages were collected. According to myhusband, relations between the Jews and Ukrainians in their village werewonderful. Even though Yiddish was spoken at home, my husband also spokefluent Ukrainian and considered the Ukrainian language to be his nativetongue.

My husband is grateful to the Ukrainian people because when it becametoo late for his mother, Raisa Shtilerman, to be evacuated, and she had toremain in the occupied territories with her daughters Dina and Buzya duringthe war, they found shelter with Ukrainian families in Korostyshev. Thepeople who rescued them were later awarded the title "Righteous Gentiles".Raisa Shtilerman died in 1990 in Israel, but her daughters Dina and Buzyaare still living there.

Naum entered the University before the war, at the age of 15. Hewanted to study in the Philology Department. He was a very gifted person.He passed all of his high school exams early and then aced his entranceexams. He was accepted even though his father was a member of a repressedminority. Perhaps he was accepted because he had gained entrance into theUkrainian Department, which was "out of fashion" in those days - everyonewanted to study only the Russian language and literature.

Back in the university, Naum began to compose poems in Ukrainian. Hebrought his first collection of poems to a famous Ukrainian poet, who wasalso Jewish, Leonid Pervomaisky (Ilya Gurevich (1908-1973), a famous andpopular Ukrainian Soviet writer. Pervomaisky is his pseudonym, which he hadto take so that his works could be published in the USSR. He was born intoa family of workers. His first publication appeared in 1924. He wrote inRussian and Ukrainian, poems and novels. He also translated from theGerman. During WWII he was a correspondent at the front.) He looked throughit and said, "Everything is fine except your last name. Shtilerman shouldnot be there. Translate it into Russian: "Shtil" means "quiet", so signyour name like this - Naum Tikhiy (Quiet)".

My husband could not print any of his poem collections before the war.After the war, he officially changed his last name, so that it is no longerhis pseudonym - otherwise, his poems would have never been printed.

During the war, Naum was in the army, but since his father had beenrepressed, he was not allowed to fight in the battle, and after the war hecould not join the Communist Party until his father was rehabilitated.

After the war Naum graduated from the Philology Department of theUniversity, and devoted his life to poetry. Twenty-five of his poeticcollections in Ukrainian have been printed. But all his life he felt anti-Semitism not on a common, but on an official, state level.

The first time he was not awarded the Shevchenko Prize was because hewas not a Communist Party member, and he was not accepted into the Partybecause of his father. In order to sweeten the situation, he was insteadawarded the Pavlo Tychyna Prize (another Ukrainian poet). In Tychyna'shouse, which is a museum, there is a portrait of my husband. He was alwaysaccepted there and his poems were read there. In general, people treatedhim kindly, understanding that he deserved much more than just Tychyna'sPrize. Several times his books were presented for the State Prize, butevery time another poet was found, who was more pleasing to theauthorities. In 1995 his other collection of poems was published and againhe was named for the Shevchenko Prize. But simultaneously, a book writtenby the wife of Drozd, the Secretary of the Writers' Union of Ukraine, wasalso named for the prize, and so she was the one who got it. But the nextyear, when the leadership of the State Prizes Committee changed, the poetYavorivsky, who was its chairman, sent a letter to the publishers, whocalled us and invited my husband to nominate his book for the State Prizeagain. The book was nominated on September 23, 1996. The response of theUkrainian poets was wonderful. The poet Nikolay Rudenko wrote on Naum'sbook, "Naum, this is what never dies". This happened on September 23, 1996.But on September 27, an article appeared in the "Literaturnaya Gazeta"newspaper claiming that Tikhiy is not a Ukrainian poet, but rather aUkrainian-speaking poet, because he is just a Jew who speaks Ukrrainian, sohe cannot be awarded such a prize. My husband was so shocked by thisarticle and took it so seriously that he died of a heart attack the nextday.

My husband was a very talented man of two cultures. He would establishdays when we were to speak only Yiddish with him so that he would learnthat language well. When we were in Israel, at the Wailing Wall, at Yad-Vashem, he was very impressed, and that is where he wrote his poem"Conception" about Jewish women's fates in ghettos. But Ukraine andUkrainian people were also very close and dear to him. He died too early,he was only 74. So, my happy family life was very short.

Among the members of our family, I am left alone. Mother's sistersMaria and Tatiana died in the early 80s; their children, my cousins, liveabroad, in Israel and America. The closest people to me now are myhusband's children from his first wife - his son Sergey and his daughter.Sergey is the director of a big newspaper in Kiev, and even though he isnot Jewish according to his passport (his mother, Naum's first wife, wasUkrainian), he still identifies himself with the Jews, attends events inthe Jewish community, and cooperates with leaders of Jewish organizationsin Ukraine. My husband's children are grateful to me for becoming a truewife and friend of their father, who made the last years of his lifesweeter. We have wonderful relations with them, even better than childrensometimes have with their own parents.

For my whole life I have honored the memory of my father, hisbrothers and all the Jews who died at the front or in Babi Yar. In 1945, Istarted going to Babi Yar on September 29, the anniversary of that terribleshooting of the Jews of Kiev. Since 1945, three Russian pilots have alsobeen coming to Babi Yar every year on September 29. At the end of the warthese pilots were kept in the Syretsky concentration camp for prisoners ofwar, and they were made to eliminate the traces of Babi Yar. Prior to theirretreating, the fascists wanted to eliminate all the traces, using theirprisoners of war, who uncovered and burned corpses. So, these pilots werecoming back for many years to honor the memory of innocent Jewish victims.Then only one came, then none.

In Babi Yar I met the famous writer Viktor Nekrasov, who also camethere every year. To this place he brought his last flowers, redcarnations, before he left the Soviet Union. He was exiled from the SovietUnion for his activities in defense of democracy, as this displeased theSoviet authorities. I was surprised that he did not even say "Hello" to me;he simply passed by me, put down his flowers, and left. He did not want todraw the attention of the Security Services officers to me, because theywere watching him closely.

On September 29, 1961, on the 20th anniversary of the shooting, manyyoung people came to Babi Yar not only from Kiev, but also from Moscow,Leningrad, and Tbilisi. Each of us carried a candle, and we placed a wreathin the form of a six-point star at the site. You can't imagine whathappened there! All the participants were arrested, right then and there,on the sacred place where the shooting took place, they were put intopolice cars and taken away. It was a great shame. Nevertheless, I continuedto go to that place every year. The Security Service told my employer thatI attend anti-Soviet rallies, and I was summoned to the personneldepartment and was asked intimidating questions. But each year, I continuedto go to Babi Yar, and all of my coworkers knew that.

A monument has been erected in Babi Yar, even two of them - a statemonument and a Jewish menorah; a monument to children was erected there in2001. The president, ambassadors, and high-profile activists in culturestage rallies and meetings there now, but very few of those who go therenowadays went there when it was forbidden.

I consider myself religious. Immediately after the war I began toattend synagogue again, first with my mother, and later with my husband. Myhusband and I contributed to the maintenance of the synagogue. Every timehe was paid royalties, we gave part of them to the synagogue. That is why Ieven had my own place in the synagogue, and where there were lines formatzoh, we got ours free of charge.

My present-day life

I read all the Jewish newspapers printed in Kiev, attend the Jewish"Khesed" and "Kinor" centers and the synagogue, when I can. Unfortunately,I don't know Hebrew. I have a Russian Bible, and when I come to thesynagogue, I read from it.

My husband and I traveled to Israel several times: he was invitedbecause he translated the poems of Israeli poets into Ukrainian. I sense myconnection with Israel and could probably move there if it were not for oldage and loneliness.

I celebrate all the Jewish holidays, Pesach, and especially YomKippur. I remember my first fast on September 29, 1941, very well - whenwe, evacuated Jews, were praying to God for the liberation of Kiev, ournation, and our country, and for our parents.

Jewish Ukrainians are now certainly more able to identify themselvesas Jews, without hiding or being ashamed of their nationality. But I thinkthat deep inside, anti-Semitism still exists in our Ukraine, only it ishiding for a time. And I would like the young Jews of Ukraine to return totheir roots, to know their language, their history and religion, and I praythat they will never have to go through the horrors our generation had toendure. Thank you, that's all.

Leonid Karlinsky

Leonid Karlinsky
Kiev
Ukraine
Interviewer: Zhanna Litinskaya

Family background

My name is Leonid Meyerovich Karlinsky. I was born into the family of
an officer of the NKVD (People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs) in
Kharkov on 5 August 1930.

My father, Meyer Karlinsky, and my mother, Bertha Karlinskaya, were
typical representatives of a generation of Soviet youth who were so fond of
the revolutionary and communist ideas that they rejected their past. They
didn't recall or tell their children about their roots or about the history
of their families. They were obsessed with the idea of communism and
rejected everything that had existed before - the Jewish way of life,
religion, traditions and their mother tongue. I only realized this when I
was a grown man. That's why I know so little about my grandparents and
their life. I had to put together the history of my family later on,
because my parents never told me anything about it when I was a child.

My paternal grandfather, Pinhus Berkov Karlinsky, was born into the
family of a tailor in Poltava around 1872. I have no information about his
brothers or sisters. Pinhus followed in his father's footsteps and became a
tailor. He was the only tailor in Poltava to receive a license to make
uniforms for soldiers, officers and policemen in Poltava province. My
grandfather had a lot of work and he hired several assistants. His workshop
was on the first floor of his house, and his family lived on the second
floor. My grandparents had four children. The family was wealthy. My
grandmother, Riva Leya Nohim Aronovna Karlinskaya (I don't know her maiden
name), was a housewife, a traditional role for a wife in Jewish families.
There were housemaids in the house, and my grandmother was responsible for
managing the housework. She didn't do any cooking or cleaning herself, but
took on the job of raising her children.

I don't know what my grandmother and grandfather thought about the
Revolution of 1917. My father never mentioned it to me. My father's sister,
Margola, mentioned once that a police officer saved their family from
pogroms and bandits that were terrorizing the population of Ukraine during
the Civil War, but I know no details. Perhaps the tailor who made uniforms
for the police enjoyed special respect in Poltava.

During the NEP (New Economic Policy) my grandfather worked in his
shop. In 1926 he and my grandmother moved to Kharkov. He worked at a shop
there, but also took work home with him. During the Second World War my
grandfather and grandmother were evacuated to Ashgabad, Turkmenistan with
our family. My grandfather was a very kind and nice person. He often
visited us and liked to talk with me while having a cup of tea. My
grandmother Riva was different. She was tough and selfish. She couldn't
forgive my father for marrying a poor communist girl. My grandmother didn't
visit us. She didn't like my mother or me or my brother.

I don't know how religious my grandparents were. Any talk about
religion was forbidden in our house. But there is a story that I'm going to
tell you which shows that my grandparents observed Jewish traditions.
Around 1936 we visited my mother's relatives. Grandfather Pinhus and
grandmother Riva were living in Kharkov at that time. We were invited to
have dinner with the family. During this dinner I dropped my fork and my
grandfather sent me to the kitchen to fetch another. I fetched a beautiful
silver fork and began to eat. All of a sudden I heard my grandmother
screaming. She slapped my face, because I had taken one of her kosher forks
and now she had to throw it away. We had never had any discussions about
kosher rules or kosher kitchen utilities, and so I didn't understand all
that fuss. My mother was quite hurt. She took my brother and me and we
left. She never again visited my grandparents, and it seems that this
incident was the last straw that spoiled the relationship between my mother
and my grandmother.

My grandfather and my grandmother returned to Kiev with the family of
their younger daughter Margola in 1947. My grandmother died shortly
thereafter and my grandfather lived with Margola's family until he died in
1957.

My grandparents had no children for several years after they got
married. Following an ancient Jewish tradition, they adopted Hina, a girl
from the family of their poor relatives from Ekaterinoslav
(Dnepropetrovsk). Hina was born around 1899. After she was adopted, my
grandmother Riva got pregnant and in 1901 gave birth to Aron, my father's
older brother. My father, Meyer, was born in 1904, and their daughter
Margola was born in 1908. My grandfather used to say that their children
were a gift from the Lord because they had adopted a girl from a poor
family.

After Hina grew up she returned to Dnepropetrovsk, her birthplace.
She married Anatoliy Krugliak, a Russian who was the director of a plant.
In 1937 Anatoliy was arrested and disappeared. We could get no information
about him. During the war Hina and her two children, Victor, born in 1933,
and Tolik, born in 1938, joined us in Ashgabad. They were very poor. I
often brought them food because they were on the edge of starvation. After
the war, Hina and her children remained in Ashgabad. Victor studied at the
railroad school and Tolik also went to school. Victor and Tolik survived
the earthquake of 1948. They were not at home when it occurred,--but their
mother was, and died. They lived in a typical Turkmenian clay house, and
Hina was found there dead on her bed. Margola adopted Victor, the younger
boy, and Hina's relatives adopted Tolik, the older boy. Victor died of
stomach cancer before reaching the age of 30, and Tolik had a stroke
before he was 35. He was paralyzed for a few years and lived with Margola
before he died.

My father's older brother Aron, born in 1901, studied in cheder and
then went to grammar school. He was a very talented musically, and could
play the violin. Aron was 16 when the Revolution took place and he went to
study at the rabfak. Later, he enrolled in the Medical Institute in
Leningrad. During the Second World War, he was director of the evacuation
hospital. During the war with Japan, he was in Tomsk, and after the war
ended, he returned to Leningrad. Aron was married. His wife Bertha and his
son Volodia were with us in Ashgabad during the war. Aron was very sociable
and easy-going before the war. After the war he became a different person.
He was withdrawn, led a secluded way of life, and divorced his wife. He
lived alone in a small room for many years, and worked as a physician. Aron
died in 1959.

His son Volodia was a very talented man. He wrote a science fiction
novel when he was just a boy. As his profession he chose the military. He
studied in several different institutes, but didn't graduate. In his last
years Volodia was unemployed, but earned some money writing satirical
articles. He lives in St. Petersburg.

My father's younger sister Margola married a Russian named Golubev.
He was a high official at the Ministry of Agriculture. They lived in the
building specifically designed for state officials in Kiev. They didn't
have any children of their own and after Hina died, Margola and her husband
adopted Hina's son, Tolik. Margola died in 2000.

My father, Meyer Karlinsky, was born in 1904, and studied in cheder
like any other Jewish boy, then completed three years of primary school.
Sometime in 1921-22 my father enrolled in the shoe manufacture school in
Rostov. He graduated and got a job assignment in Kharkov at the shoe
factory. He was an active Komsomol member, and was very enthusiastic about
the Revolution of 1917. He believed that it would improve the lives of many
people and give them the opportunity to study. He wanted to build a fair
society and participated in meetings at factories and plants, speaking on
behalf of Soviet power and fighting against those who did not cotton to
turning over the government to the proletariat. At one of the meetings, he
met my mother, Bertha Tomchinskaya.

My mother was born in 1905 near Golaya Pristan in the vicinity of
Kherson. This village was called Kalinindorf in the Soviet era. It was
founded in the XVIII century when the tsarist government established
national minority colonies in the Azov Sea area, south of Russia and
Ukraine.

In the village where my mother was born there was a big German colony
with a Jewish neighborhood near it. Its inhabitants were mainly farmers.
There was a German church, a synagogue and an Orthodox church in the
village. Representatives of various nationalities got along well and
treated one another with respect.

My mother was born into a family of nine children. I have no
information about her father, Wulf Tomchinsky. I only know that he went
somewhere to earn some money and never came back. I have no idea where he
went.

My mother never mentioned him, because my grandmother and her
children believed that he had another family somewhere and that was the
reason for his not coming back. My mother's family was very poor. They kept
a few cows and worked from morning till night. They took dairy products to
the market in Kherson. It was a big family and they could hardly manage
with the money they got by selling their dairy products. My grandmother
raised her children all on her own. I don't remember her name. She spent
her last years with her oldest daughter, Fania. When the war began, Fania
and her family evacuated, but my grandmother didn't want to go with them.
She judged the Germans by what she knew about them from the neighboring
colony, and she didn't believe the Germans could do any harm to Jewish
people. When Kherson was occupied the Gestapo took my grandmother's house
and used it as their office, and, of course, my grandmother was one of the
first to be shot.

I didn't know all of my mother's brothers and sisters. Ethel was the
oldest, born around 1890. Ethel was married to Mihail Krapivnikov, a Jew.
He became one of the first managers of the Kharkov tractor plant during the
first years of Soviet power. They had four children: two girls, Asia and
Fira, and two boys, Vladimir and Arkadiy.

During the war Aunt Etia and uncle Mihail, Asia and Fira were
evacuated with their plant to Stalingrad and later, to Nizhniy Tagil.
Vladimir, born in 1925, was a communications operator on the front. He was
severely wounded and lost a leg. After the war he married the fiancée of a
schoolmate who had perished on the front. He lived in Podmoskovie. In 1990
he emigrated to Israel. Arkadiy studied at a tank school before the war. He
received an offer to stay at the school as a lecturer, but he believed that
a Jew should be on the front lines in order to avoid any reproaches or mean
jokes. Arkadiy perished in his first battle not far from Kursk. Aunt Ethel
and Uncle Mihail died in the mid-1960s in Kharkov.

My mother's brother, Mark, was a member of the CPSU Town Committee
Bureau in Kiev. When the war began, he was responsible for the evacuation
of enterprises from Kiev. He was too late to evacuate himself, and left
the town with a group of comrades when the Germans were very close. They
were all captured by the Germans in the Darnitsa woods. The Germans shot
the communists and Jews. Fania, Mark's wife, heard about it from Mark's
comrade, a Russian from this group. He went through concentration camps and
survived. Lyonia, Mark's older son, perished during the war. His younger
son, Volodia, lives in Israel.

I also knew my mother's younger sister Ida. She married a man in the
military and lived in Odessa. During the war she and her children, Tania
and Volodia, were evacuated to Ashgabad. Her husband Lyova was at the front
line throughout the war. After the war he worked at the Officer Training
School in Odessa. Aunt Ida died sometime in 1965. I don't know where her
children Tania and Volodia are now - we haven't kept in touch. I don't know
anything about the rest of my mother's brothers and sisters. Some of them
emigrated to America in the early 1920s, and others perished during the
civil war. I don't even know their names.

My mother was the 6th or 7th child in her family. Two years of Jewish
primary school was all the education my mother received before the
revolution, because she had to help her mother and older sister about the
house. The Revolution opened bright prospects for my mother. She was eager
to study. She left for Kharkov, where her older sister, Etia, was living.
In Kharkov, my mother went to study at the rabfak. However, she didn't
study for long and wasn't much of a success at school. She went to work as
a seamstress at the garment factory. She became a Komsomol member and
later, a party member. In 1929 she became secretary of the Party Committee
of the factory and met with Minister Postyshev. We even had a photo of Mama
posed with him. Mama destroyed this picture after Postyshev was arrested.

I don't know exactly when my parents met. They married in 1928. At
that time it was customary to live together in civil marriage without
getting registered at the registry office. Weddings, or Jewish weddings
were considered to be a vestige of the past. My parents just began to live
together.

Soon afterward, my father was assigned to the NKVD units. He was sent
to Volhovstroy, one of the construction sites of the Belomoro-Baltic
Channel. At that time the Soviet authorities imprisoned hundreds of
thousands of people, and these prisoners were engaged in the construction
of the channel and of Volhovstroy. My father worked as a guard of the camp.
Later, he was sent to be trained as a gunman. There were automatic guns
around the camp zone, and trained gunmen were needed. After this training
course my father was sent to the NKVD Officer Training Course in Leningrad.
There he received a room in the hostel for officers, and Mama was able to
join him there in the summer of 1930. My mother lived in Kharkov when my
father was at Volhovstroy, and they met during my father's vacation. In
Leningrad we lived in a room at the officers' barracks. My father's salary
was not enough to support the family, so my mother also had to work. We
also had a housemaid, and Mama made her go to a school for young working
people.

In 1934 my father was transferred to Chuguev not far from Kharkov.
There was an educational center for NKVD officers in Chuguev. My father
became a specialist in protection from poisonous chemical substances. We
had a room in a communal aprartment in Chuguev, where my father became the
Chief of the Chemical Department. I have dim memories of a long corridor
and a kerosene lamp near each room. I also remember that we children
watched military training sessions: there were clouds of some type of gas,
and people in gas masks. It seemed so interesting to us.

In 1935 my mother went to Kharkov. Medical services were much better
in Kharkov than in Chuguev, and my mother went there hoping to get better
medical treatment. My younger brother Victor was born there. My father and
I visited my mother at the maternity hospital and talked with her on the
telephone - she had a telephone in her room. This was one of my brightest
memories. I held the phone receiver for the first time in my life. I also
remember that we went home from the maternity hospital in an open carriage.

In Kharkov, Mama and I stayed with my mother's older sister. Papa went
to Chuguev. Although my parents came from traditional Jewish families,
they didn't observe any Jewish traditions. Neither my brother nor I were
circumcised. I believe my father became a party member under the influence
of my mother. We only spoke Russian at home and even when my parents used
some Yiddish words, it was meant as a joke, and with some sarcasm. I
believe that it was because of my parents' attitude toward religion that my
paternal grandmother literally hated my mother. Besides having come from a
poor family in the village, my mother turned my father into an atheist and
a communist. My father was ashamed of his Jewish origins. He always
introduced himself as Mark Pavlovich or Mihail Pavlovich, but never as
Meyer Pinhusovich, his Jewish name.

In 1936 my father was transferred to Novosibirsk. It was the beginning
of the repressive period, and the Soviets created a number of prison camps
in Siberia and the Far East. They also founded Camp Headquarters (GULAG) in
Novosibirsk, as well as other headquarters. My father was appointed Chief
of the Chemical Department at the Logistics Department, supporting police,
frontier troops and camps. In Novosibirsk we received a two-room apartment
and started living as a family. My father came home from work at 2 or 3 in
the morning. At that time it was customary to work nights, following the
example of Stalin.

In 1936 Anatoliy Krugliak, the husband of my mother's sister Hina, was
arrested. In 1938 we received a letter from Zina Levitina, my father's
cousin. She wrote that her husband Zinoviy Levitin, the Director of a big
plant in Moscow, had been arrested. The only message from him was a pack of
Kazbek cigarettes that he threw out of the window of the barred railcar
taking him to the camp. He wrote Zina's address on the pack and a message
"Zinochka, I'm innocent". A stranger, wearing the railroad uniform put this
pack near the door to Zina's apartment, rang the doorbell, and ran away.
There were no other messages from Zinoviy - he perished in Stalin's camps.
Zina was a devoted communist and worked as director of the ch ildren's
home. It was strange, but the authorities didn't touch her. She went on
with her work and was evacuated with the children's home.

I studied at an ordinary school. The students in our school were
mainly the children of military personnel. There were children of various
nationalities in our school, including Jews. But nationality didn't matter
back then. We were just Soviet children. I had a carefree life. I went to
school, attended the young technicians' club and participated in
gymnastics. My brother Victor went to kindergarten because Mama decided to
go to work. Although she had no education, the Soviet authorities sent her
to study at the school for judges and she finished the course. However, she
could find a job, because my father started having problems.

When my father learned that Krugliak and Levitin, the husbands of his
sisters, were arrested, he, being a devoted communist, officially reported
in his office that two of his close relatives had been arrested, although
he was absolutely sure that they were innocent. There was a party meeting
where the authorities blamed him for blunting his vigilance and
excommunicated him from the party. In a few days my father was fired. I
came home from school one day and was surprised to see my father at home so
early. When we were having tea my mother said, "You know, son, your father
has been fired and we may have to leave". My father kept silently stirring
his tea in the glass. We were sitting motionless. We were struck and didn't
know what to expect. We were aware that he might be arrested, sentenced to
15 years in labor camps or even to death, and that his family might suffer
from repression. Fortunately for us, my father was only fired from work,
but we were very concerned about what was going to happen to all of us.

My father went to work as an accountant at the car maintenance shop.
In 1939 his party membership was reinstated, and his position was restored
at work. Soon my father requested to be transferred to another town. He
didn't want to stay in Novosibirsk any longer. He got a job assignment in
Ashgabad, Turkmenia (now Turkmenistan). At first we obtained accommodations
at a good hotel, and shortly before the war we received an apartment in a
new apartment building.

In 1941 my mother and I went to visit our relatives in Kharkov. On 22
June 1941 we were in Moscow, staying with Uncle Abrasha, our distant
relative. On Sunday, 22 June Uncle Abrasha took my brother and me to the
Exhibition of the Achievements of Public Economy. We heard about what had
happened when we were there (editor's note: Germany had invaded the Soviet
Union) and went directly home. At 12 o'clock Molotov made a speech and we
learned that the war had begun. We decided to go home. Mama managed to get
tickets through the frontier units' headquarters and we went to Ashgabad.
We met many acquaintances on the train who had to go back home urgently due
to the war. When we were approaching Tashkent there was a rumor in our
railcar that a train on the nearby track, carrying employees of the office
where my father was working, was to be sent to the front. We heard that my
father was there. Mama ran to look for him. She jumped onto the train after
it had started moving. She was crying because she couldn't find her
husband. We were so happy to see that my father was in Ashgabad when we
returned.

During the War

I have few memories of the war. We were living in our apartment and my
father provided well for his family. Of course, this was a difficult time,
but it didn't touch us. Almost all of my father's and mother's relatives
came to Ashgabad: Ida, Margola, grandfather and grandmother, Fania and her
children, and Hina with Victor and Tolik. They were having a difficult time
and Mama often sent me to take food to them, especially to Aunt Hina. But
she never sent anything to my grandmother. Even the war didn't suppress
their hostility towards one another.

In 1943 the authorities established NKVD headquarters in the Rostov
region, although Rostov was still under occupation. This office was located
in Piatigorsk and was responsible for provisioning the frontier units that
were following the military units on the front.

My father was appointed Chief of the Chemical Department in this
office, and we moved to Piatigorsk in 1943. We rented an apartment from a
Russian woman. During the war a German general was her tenant and he left
lots of food. She shared it with us. She said that the general was a very
nice man. My brother and I went to school. I became a Pioneer. I believed
that once the war was over, we would have a happy and fair future. I was
fond of technical things and wanted to become a military engineer. My
brother Victor wanted to join the military.

In summer of 1943 I submitted my documents to the Suvorov Military
School in Stavropol. My friend Sasha Fetisov also submitted his documents
to this same school. When my father and I came to find out the results we
saw the letter "R" (refused) on my package. I burst into tears and the
receptionist erased the letter "R" and wrote an "A" (admitted) instead. I
studied well at the school and took part in sporting events. However, I was
called a Jew for the first time. While we were having an argument my close
friend said to me, "You are a Jew - you will always find an excuse and a
way out of any situation".

After the War

I graduated from the school in 1948 with a gold medal. When they were
issuing my certificate they called me by my Jewish name, Leonid Meyerovich,
although I had listed my last name as Markovich on the Komsomol card. Then
I crossed out my Russian name, Markovich, put in Meyerovich instead.

In 1948 I entered Infantry School in Leningrad. During my second year
there, I participated in a fight between cadets. As a result, the sergeant
had his nose broken. We had been drinking a bottle of wine and gotten into
a small argument. There was a Komsomol unit meeting. The secretary looked
at my Komsomol membership card, saw the correction I had made, and accused
me of trying to conceal my nationality. Because of this fight I was sent to
serve in Kamchatka, although I was supposed to be going to Germany.

My performance was good, although they reminded me of that fight in
Leningrad. I remember that on 5 or 6 March 1953 we were lined up at Drill
Square. We were told that there was going to be an important announcement.
Then we were released without being told anything. At 6 o'clock in the
morning we were lined up again, and this time they announced that Stalin
had died. In the evening we were in our room at the hostel and, pouring
alcohol into our glasses, I said, "Well, guys, shall we commemorate the
deceased one?" My friend York Repin didn't like me talking disparagingly
about Stalin, the leader of the people. But Stalin's death was no tragedy
for me.

In the summer of 1953 during my service in Kamchatka I submitted
documents to Leningrad Academy of the Rear and Transport Services. I was to
take exams in Khabarovsk. When I was taking my entrance exams I felt to the
full what it was like to be a Jew in the Soviet Union. My friend Yulik
Mondrus, a Jew, and I had gold medals and could be officially released from
taking entrance exams. But we were forced to take all the exams. Yulik
"failed" at the exam in physics. I passed all my exams, but the examiners
reminded me of all my faults: the correction I'd made on my Komsomol
membership card, the fight in Leningrad, and also that my grandmother was
under occupation. They didn't care that this blind elderly woman had been
shot by the Germans. They were only interested in whether she had done any
harm to Soviet power, or cooperated with the Germans. It so happened that
during this period there was an announcement on the radio about the
rehabilitation of the Jewish doctors from the Kremlin who had been falsely
accused of the conspiracy aimed at the murder of Stalin and other Soviet
leaders. After this announcement, the attitude towards me changed and I was
admitted to the Academy.

In 1957 while studying at the Academy in Leningrad, I became a Party
member. Party membership was necessary for any young man aspiring to a
career in the army. My brother Victor, who was studying at the Military
School of Frontier Units in Leningrad, introduced me to Elina Ferdman, a
student at the medical school. We fell in love and married in 1954. We have
been together ever since. Elina was from Leningrad. Her father was Jewish
and her mother, Russian. Her father was a teacher at the school for factory
workers. Her mother was a homemaker. During the war Elina's father fought
at the front, and Elina and her mother were evacuated to the Urals. Elina
was raised as a Jew and wanted to marry a Jew. Life was not easy for a
young cadet and a medical student. My stipend was 200 rubles and Elina
received only 30 rubles. We couldn't afford to buy a coat, but we often
went to the theaters because tickets were very cheap.

In 1955 our daughter Lenochka was born. My uncle Aron, a consultant at
the maternity hospital, helped my wife during the childbirth. By that time,
our family was living in Leningrad. - my father had been fired from his job
in 1953 after Stalin died, since the authorities didn't have a need for so
many punitive guard units. My mother and father came to Leningrad where
they received an apartment. They helped us to raise our daughter. My mother
died in 1967 and my father in 1976. My brother Victor died of a myocardial
infarction in 1975. He didn't do very well in life. He retired from the
army due to his heart trouble, and for a long time he couldn't find a job.
Back then it was difficult for a Jew to get a job. Victor took to drinking,
which led to his heart attack at the age of 40. Victir's two daughters,
Marina and Natasha, both lived in Leningrad.

After I graduated from the Academy, I got a job assignment in the
vicinity of Osha, where I began my military service as a first lieutenant.
Then I moved to Kaunas, Chita and after that, to many other towns. I
finally settled down in Cheliabinsk, where I was a lecturer at the military
school. I retired from the army in 1981 with the rank of Colonel. After my
retirement, I moved to Kiev with my family. My father's sister Margola
helped me with the move by giving me a permit to register for residence at
her apartment. We have lived in Kiev ever since.

My daughter Lena graduated from an accounting school in Cheliabinsk.
She lives in Alexandrovka near Lugansk. She was married to a Ukrainian by
the name of Voloshenko, who began saying and doing things which hurt her
feelings because of her nationality. She divorced him when my grandson was
10 years old. Lena is now married to a Jewish man.

I think I had a good life. I have never thought about my roots or
Jewish history before. Frankly speaking, I didn't care about Israel or
about the Six Day War. I still think that Israel has to return the occupied
lands to the Palestinians. We have never discussed emigration to Israel in
our family.

Recently I've become more interested in the life of the Jewish
community. I read Jewish newspapers and visit the Hesed center. Only when I
grew old did I learn about Pesach, Yom Kippur, Hanukkah, etc. I might blame
my parents, but I understand that they lived their lives as best as their
understanding allowed them. They were raising us as Soviet
internationalists with no national roots. Such were the times, and they
followed the rules of those times.

Now I'm trying to fill in the gaps. I have enrolled in a course in
Yiddish, and I celebrate Jewish holidays at home. My daughter wasn't raised
as a Jew and we chose her nationality to be written as Russian (my wife's
nationality). This was in tribute to the times.

My wife and I have submitted our documents for emigration to Germany.
It is difficult to live in Ukraine. I would hope for the best. Thank you.

Ivan Moshkovich

Ivan Moshkovich
Uzhgorod
Ukraine
Interviewer: Ella Levitskaya
Date of interview: April 2003

Ivan Moshkovich and his wife Faina live in a private house in the center of Uzhgorod. His sister built this house after she returned from concentration camp in 1945. Ivan and his wife moved into this house after she left for Israel. Their house is well kept and cozy. There are two rooms, a spacious hallway and a kitchen. The furniture was bought in the 1980s. There is a flower garden in front of the house and a few trees. Ivan is a thin man of average height. He has swift movements. He is a reserved and kind man. Ivan's wife is confined to bed due to her illness. Ivan has to take care of all the house-chores. Nevertheless, he finds time for public activities. Ivan Moshkovich is chairman of the Jewish community of Uzhgorod. During the interview his son Dmitri and grandson Henrich came to see him. They stayed for the duration of the interview and listened to Ivan's story with great interest. One can tell that all members of the family love and care about each other. When Ivan was talking about his time in concentration camps he got very upset and couldn't talk. At his request we gave a brief description of this period without going into details. I saw how painful those recollections were for him.

I know little about my father's family. I didn't know my father's parents. My grandfather and grandmother died long before I was born. I don't even know their names. They were born and lived in the village of Volkovoye in Uzhgorod district in Subcarpathia 1. This area belonged to Hungary before 1945. I've never been in Volkovoye and there's nothing I can tell about it. After 1945, when Subcarpathia became a part of the Soviet Union, a few smaller neighboring villages merged to form a kolkhoz 2 and the bigger settlement was given a different name. Volkovoye also formed a part of a bigger settlement.

My grandfather was a farmer and my grandmother was a housewife. Their family was religious. They observed all Jewish traditions. They had many children. My father, Henrich Moshkovich, his Jewish name was Chaim, was born in Volkovoye in 1890. He was the middle son in the family. My father and his brothers studied in cheder. When they grew up my father and his brothers moved to Uzhgorod looking for a job. My father was a cattle dealer in Uzhgorod: he purchased and sold cattle. I don't know what his brothers did for a living. I don't remember their names either. I know that they were married and had children, but I don't know any details. I can't remember anything about my father's sisters. During the Great Patriotic War 3 we lost contact with my father's relatives and we've had no information about them since.

During World War I my father served in the Austrian army that fought on the side of Germany. [Editor's note: There was no separate Austrian and Hungarian army in the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy but a common army called the KuK army.] 4 My father never told me any details of his military service. He was wounded at the front, demobilized after the war in 1919 and returned home.

My maternal grandfather and grandmother lived in the village of Dolgoye Pole, Uzhgorod district. My grandfather was born in Dolgoye Pole in the 1850s. His name was Eikef Yunger. I don't know my grandmother's name or her place of birth. I think she was the same age as my grandfather. We, her grandchildren, called her 'babika', Grandma in Hungarian [This was a form of address used in Subcarpathia].

Before 1919 Subcarpathia belonged to the Dual Monarchy [the Austro- Hungarian Monarchy] and then it became a part of Czechoslovakia. The Czechoslovak government was loyal to the Jews and stimulated their business activities. The Jews could do any business they wished: there were no restrictions in this regard. The Jews did their business and held official posts and the Czechoslovak authorities encouraged them in every way. The Czechs were intelligent and cultured people. Dolgoye Pole was a small village. There were ten to twelve Jewish families there that constituted about one third of the population. The Jews didn't have their separate neighborhood and mixed with Ukrainian, Hungarian and Czech families. The population spoke mainly Ukrainian and Hungarian. People got along well and there was no anti-Semitism before 1938. The only difference was that the Jews didn't work on Saturday and non-Jews didn't work on Sunday. The Jews celebrated their holidays and on other days worked in the fields like the rest of the population. Children also helped their parents.

There was an eight-year Hungarian school in the village. After finishing school children either learned a profession or went to town to continue their education. There was no synagogue or cheder in the village. There was a big synagogue in the neighboring village of Geivitza, about 1,5 kilometers from Dolgoye Pole. Jews from three villages - Geivitza, Velikaya Geivitza and Dolgoye Pole - went to the synagogue on Saturday and Jewish holidays and prayed at home on weekdays. There was a cheder at the synagogue. Parents and children went to the synagogue together. Newly born boys were circumcised on the eight day. When boys turned 13 they had their bar mitzvah at the synagogue. All Jewish families were very religious. They were all very close and, like in all villages, each person was aware of the situation in his neighbor's house. Every single Jew observed Jewish traditions. God forbid if somebody in the village found out that his neighbor violated Sabbath, smoked a cigarette, stroke a match or turned off the light. This was forbidden between Friday evening through Saturday evening. Our non-Jewish neighbors showed understanding of our Jewish traditions. On Saturday our Ukrainian neighbor came to our house to stoke the stove and light candles. Jews were respected and supported in the village.

My mother's family was wealthy by local standards. My grandfather owned a store selling alcoholic drinks and tobacco. This was the only store of this kind in the village. My grandfather also had a few threshing machines, which were used for threshing grain for the whole village after the harvest. My grandparents had a big long house. There was a store and living quarters in the house. There were four or five big rooms. All weddings and big celebrations in the village were arranged in my grandfather's house. The house had a tiled roof while most of the houses in the village had thatched roofs. There was an orchard and a kitchen garden near the house. They kept livestock: horses to work in the field and serve for transportation purposes, a cow and poultry - chickens, ducks and geese. The family had everything they needed. They farmed their fields themselves. All members of the family were used to work in the field. They grew grain and corn. Besides, my grandfather owned a plot in the forest. They stoked their stoves with wood and it was important to have wood of their own. My grandfather worked at the store and renewed the stocks. My grandmother and the children did all the other work.

My mother's parents were very religious. My grandfather always observed Jewish customs and traditions. They had mezuzot on all the doors in the house. Every morning my grandfather put on his tallit and tefillin and prayed. He wore casual clothes like all other villagers. My grandfather had a black suit that he put on to go to the synagogue. He had a long beard and always wore a kippah. Nobody ever saw him without it, even at home. My grandfather even slept with his kippah on. My grandmother was a short thin woman. She didn't wear a wig. There were no wigs in the village. She always wore a kerchief and dark gathered skirts and long-sleeved high collar blouses. They celebrated Sabbath and all Jewish holidays at home. They spoke Yiddish and were fluent in Hungarian.

There were several children in the family. I remember three of them besides my mother. The oldest son, Ignas, was born around 1890. The next one was a daughter, born around 1894. I don't remember her name. My mother Bertha was born in 1897. The youngest daughter was born in 1900. I've forgotten her name. Ignas went to cheder in Geivitza and the girls studied at home with a teacher from cheder. He taught them how to read and write in Yiddish, prayers and everything a Jewish girl needed to know. At the age of 12 girls had their bat mitzvah, and my mother's brother had his bar mitzvah at the age of 13. My mother's older sister became an apprentice to a dressmaker. I don't remember what Ignas did for a living. My mother and her sister helped their mother about the house and worked in the field. They all lived in Dolgoye Pole. My grandmother died in Dolgoye Pole in 1940. She was buried in the Jewish section of the village cemetery in Dolgoye Pole. It was a Jewish funeral. The ritual was conducted by the rabbi of the synagogue in Geivitza. Ignas recited the Kaddish for her. I don't remember sitting shivah for my grandmother.

My parents met with the help of a shadkhan. They had a traditional Jewish wedding with a chuppah in my mother parents' house in Dolgoye Pole. It couldn't have been otherwise at that time. She was the daughter of a deeply religious man, my grandfather Eikef. After the wedding the newly-weds moved to Uzhgorod. I don't know why they decided to start their marital life in Uzhgorod. I remember a small house, but I don't know if it belonged to my father or if my parents rented it. There were four children born there. My older brother Herman, his Jewish name was Mayer, was born in 1922. My sister Olga, her Jewish name was Esther, followed in 1924. In 1926 Clara, her Jewish name was Hana-Gita, was born. I was the youngest. I was born in 1928 and named Ivan. My Jewish name is Moshe-Tzvi. My father was a cattle dealer. He traveled to villages purchasing cattle from farmers to sell it to butchers. He got preliminary orders from them for the kind of meat they wished to buy. He was very busy in winter and fall when he often left home for several days. He spent more time with his family at home in summer. My mother was a housewife after she got married.

Two years after I was born my parents moved to Dolgoye Pole. My mother's parents wanted their children to live near them. I don't know whether my father built a house or bought it, but we lived in our own house in Dolgoye Pole. It was near my grandparents' house. The village stood on a river and our house was on the opposite bank of the river from where my grandparents lived. This house was built from air bricks and it had a thatched roof like the majority of the houses in the village. [Editor's note: air bricks were made from cut straw and clay, dried in the sun.] There were two rooms and a kitchen in the house. The front door led to the kitchen and there were two doors to the rooms from the kitchen. There was a storeroom for food products. We had simple furniture made from planks: tables, chairs, beds and wardrobes. There was a backyard with sheds for our cattle and a shed for storing hay for winter. There was also a wooden shed. There was a high fence around the area. There were apple, pear, plum and walnut trees in the orchard. We made jam for winter. We grew potatoes and other vegetables to last through the winter. We didn't buy anything and even grew grass to make hay for the cattle. We kept cows, horses and poultry.

My father made his living by farming until we moved to Dolgoye Pole. My mother did all the housework, helped my father in the field and worked in the orchard and kitchen garden. Children were used to work. Everybody had his chores. I was responsible for weeding and watering the kitchen garden. I also brought wood for the stove from the shed in the yard. I also did other chores about the house. We did all work by ourselves and didn't hire anyone. There was no electricity in the village. We lit kerosene lamps or candles in the evening. People used kerosene torches to walk in the streets in the evening. I would like to live in a village now. We had a quiet life.

We spoke Hungarian and Yiddish at home. I know these two languages well. After Subcarpathia became a part of Czechoslovakia [the First Czechoslovak Republic] 5 Czech became the official language. Children had no problem picking it up, but for the adults it wasn't that easy. The inhabitants of Subcarpathia speak four to five languages.

Our family was religious. My father put on his tallit and tefillin to pray every morning. We knew that we couldn't bother him during the prayer. Every Saturday he took his sons to the synagogue in Geivitza. We started going to synagogue when we turned five. Men and boys went to the synagogue every Saturday and women, including my mother, went to the synagogue on Jewish holidays. Even in summer, when it was hot, my father wore his black suit and a wide-brimmed black hat to the synagogue. He took my older brother Herman and me after I reached the age of five. We wore our fancy suits and hats. My mother wore a long dark dress and a dark kerchief to the synagogue. She always wore a kerchief, even at home.

There was no cheder in the village. Children went to cheder at the age of three. Since it was a problem to go to the cheder in the village of Geivitza every day the children studied at home before they turned six. Their parents hired a melamed who taught them at home every day. Each family had their own melamed. They taught Hebrew, Yiddish and the Torah. They also taught everything that Jewish children were supposed to know. They taught all the required prayers: over bread, milk and water, the kashrut and traditions. We knew the prayers for weekdays and holidays and we knew how to celebrate holidays and their history. At the age of six children went to the cheder in Geivitza. My father taught us at home, we didn't have a melamed. He taught my sisters, too. We could read and write in Yiddish and Hebrew. My father was a very religious man. He knew all prayers by heart. We observed all Jewish traditions in the family, celebrated Sabbath and all Jewish holidays. We went to cheder when we turned six.

On Friday my mother baked bread for a whole week and challah for Saturday. On Friday morning she cooked food for two days. No work was allowed on Saturday. She put the cholent - meat stew with potatoes and beans in ceramic pots - in the oven. On Saturday, before lunch, my mother took the pots out of the stove and the food in there was still hot. She told one of the children to take the chickens to the shochet on Friday. On Friday the whole family got together for dinner: we always had gefilte fish, chicken broth and boiled chicken. We prayed and then my mother, wearing her fancy dress and a silk shawl, lit the candles in a bronze candle stand. We prayed again, welcomed Saturday and sat down for a festive dinner. My father blessed us. We sang together. Friday and Saturday were holy days in our family. On Saturday my father read out the appropriate section of the Torah. We didn't do any work until the first evening star on Saturday. We had a rest and went for walks outside. Sometimes we had guests on Saturday.

We strictly followed the kashrut in our family. My mother had kitchen utensils and crockery of three types for everyday use: for meat and dairy products and for uncooked products. We never used non-kosher utensils or crockery. Of course, we also had special crockery for Pesach, which was kept in a big box in the attic. It was taken down once a year, on Pesach. If everyday utensils were to be used on Pesach or if new ones were bought they were to be koshered. There was a special koshering spot near the houses in our street used by all Jews. There was a huge bowl with boiling water where all crockery was dumped to be koshered. They had water boiling on Friday morning and before holidays, but when a family bought new crockery or utensils or thought they needed to have their old utensils koshered they could do it any time.

There was a major cleaning of the house before Pesach. Everything had to be washed and cleaned. Chametz was swept onto a piece of paper with a goose feather and burned. All stocks of bread and grain were taken to non-Jewish neighbors. They gave us some change pretending that they bought it from us and after Pesach we took it back to the house. My mother sent us to take the chickens and geese to the shochet. She always melted plenty of chicken and goose fat that was used for cooking throughout Pesach. There was no bread in the house for the eight days of Pesach. We only ate matzah. Several Jewish women got together to make matzah for their families.

My mother made traditional Jewish food on Pesach: gefilte fish, chicken broth with dumplings made from matzah and boiled chicken. She also made pudding from matzah, eggs and potatoes. She baked strudels with jam, nuts and raisins, honey cakes from matzah flour and magen David shaped cookies. She made food for the first two days of the holiday. No cooking was allowed on these days. When the evening star appeared on the first night of Pesach my father conducted the seder. There was a big table with everything on it required for the seder. Besides the festive dishes there was a big plate with greeneries, horseradish and a boiled egg on it to symbolize the exodus of Jews from Egypt. There was also a saucer with salted water into which we dipped greeneries before eating. Every person was to drink four glasses of wine during the seder. The children got a glass of water slightly colored with a bit of wine poured into it. My father told us about the seder and my older brother asked him the traditional questions [the mah nishtanah] in Hebrew about this holiday. When I grew older it was my turn to pose these questions. The first prayer began when there were no stars in the sky yet, and the second prayer was said when there were stars. There was a special glass of wine for Elijah the Prophet 6. The front door was kept open for him to come in.

We celebrated Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. I prayed at the synagogue on that day. When we came home my mother put challah, honey and apples on the table. We had to eat this food to have a sweet and nice year ahead of us. Yom Kippur was the most holy day of the year. Even small children fasted all day. In the ten days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur everybody had to ask God forgiveness and ask other people to forgive them. My parents always went to our neighbors to ask to be forgiven. The ritual of kapores was conducted for each member of the family: with a white rooster for men and boys and a chicken for girls. One had to take a hen or rooster one's right hand and roll it over one's head saying, 'May you be my atonement'. I don't know what they did with the hen or rooster afterwards. Each of us had to say the prayer.

We also celebrated Chanukkah at home. We went to the synagogue in the morning and the celebration took place in the evening. The children got Chanukkah money and spinning tops on this holiday. The children were also allowed to make money stakes during the game with the spinning top. We usually bought sweets and sunflower seeds for the money we got. My mother lit one candle more every day. There was one shammash candle that was lit on the first day and the other candles were lit from it. Three prayers were said while lighting the candles. [Editor's note: It is only on the first day of Chanukkah that three prayers are recited, on the other days only two prayers are said.]

At Sukkot a sukkah was made in every Jewish yard. The roof was made from corn stems to see the sky through it. Jews had meals and prayed in their sukkot.

Purim was the merriest holiday. Women made pastries and the children took small treats and gifts to their friends and relatives. The adults gave children some money at Purim to give it to beggars. If a poor man came to a house on Purim evening the family had to accommodate him for the night, give him food and food or some money to go. Poor people usually visited wealthier homes on Purim. Purimshpilers also came to houses to give performances. They were usually adults and children from poorer families. They cut the performances short to be able to make the rounds of more houses. Our performers were a neighboring family and we, kids, waited for them to come from the early morning.

There was a Jewish community in every village. Wealthier people helped the poor giving them food or gifts on Saturday and Jewish holidays. They always provided help for the needy. At that time people had stronger bonds. My family always made charity contributions and my mother always took some food to poor families living in our street. Perhaps, the community organized more activities, but I don't know about it.

We went to study at the lower secondary state school in the village when we turned seven. I started school in 1935. In 1918 the language of teaching at school became Czech. There were 14 Jewish families in Dolgoye Pole at the most and there weren't many Jewish children at school. There were about 40 families in Dolgoye Pole. The village was small and there weren't many children in each class. It was a small school. There was no anti-Semitism and there couldn't be any. Children usually adopt their parents' attitudes and the adults treated the Jews with respect.

In 1938 the Hungarians returned to Subcarpathia. Only this was a fascist Hungary, an ally of Germany. The attitude of the Hungarians toward the Jews was dramatically different from the attitude of Czechs. It was calm at first, but then oppression began. The authorities began to introduce anti- Jewish laws 7 and passports. Jews had to submit documents confirming that their ancestors had been born and lived in this area and that they were not newcomers. People had to go to Budapest and pay a significant amount of money to obtain passports. The next step was that Jews were forbidden to do business. They had to give their stores and shops to non-Jews or they became state property.

My grandfather gave his store to a non-Jewish local resident. He became the owner and my grandfather continued working in the store. He received a salary as an employee and the owner got all the profit. The situation was getting worse and worse for the Jews. Later a law on residential restrictions was introduced. Jews weren't allowed to leave the settlements of their residence. We weren't even allowed to go to the synagogue in Geivitza. Jews were also obliged to wear the yellow star on their chest. The Hungarian authorities appointed heads of village headquarters that were loyal to their regime to oppress the Jewish population. Some local Hungarians became fascists. The son of the local count in Geivitza sympathized with the fascists. His attitude towards Jews was brutal. Once he and his friends rode their horses into the synagogue. However, there were no Jewish pogroms. I need to say that the local villagers sympathized with the Jews and helped them. Governmental officials were anti-Semitic, but anti-Semitism didn't corrupt common people.

We began to learn Hungarian at school. It was no problem since we could speak Hungarian. The Hungarians introduced Christian religion classes at school. Jewish children didn't have to attend these classes. Jewish boys of ten years of age had to do mandatory work in Hungarian military barracks near the village: painting, cleaning and carrying bricks. We worked two to three hours every day. If the commanding officer disliked our job he could make us redo it.

We knew that the war began in 1939. We didn't have a radio, but some families bought newspapers. They shared what they read with other villagers and the news spread in the village. The Germans attacked Poland, and on 22nd June 1941 Germany also attacked the Soviet Union. There was a war all around, but there were no military actions in Subcarpathia. The Hungarians were allies of Germany. The Germans came to Subcarpathia at the end of 1943. There were Germans in our village. They gave orders and commands and oppressed the Jews, but there were no severe actions on their part before April 1944.

In April 1944 all Jews were ordered to take food to last for a week, clothes and come to the central square. Quite a few locals gave shelter to some Jews, though the Germans threatened to shoot for such attempts. All Jews were ordered to go to the school building. The Germans took away their gold and clothes that were in satisfactory condition. Then the Jews were taken to the brick factory in Uzhgorod. They made a ghetto in it. It was a huge factory. There were Jews from Uzhgorod town and region there. People from the villages had a certain area in the ghetto. They had to stay in the open air. There were no living arrangements. We ate what we had taken with us from home. Sometimes our neighbors or acquaintances came to throw some food for us over the fence. We had to go to work. We had to take everything there was in Jewish houses in Uzhgorod to a storage facility. My older brother Mayer served in the Hungarian army at that time as a private. The rest of us were in the ghetto: my parents and sisters, my mother's father and her sisters. We couldn't observe any Jewish traditions in the ghetto. We ate what we had without thinking about the rules of kashrut. The men got together for a minyan to pray in secret. The ghetto was guarded by Germans and Hungarians.

We stayed in the ghetto for a month. In May 1944 we were taken to Auschwitz. We took with us what we could. We were taken to the railway station where we boarded a train for cattle transportation. The railcars were stuffed with people. Many of them died on the way to Auschwitz. I can't remember how long the trip lasted. It seemed endless to me.

We arrived at Auschwitz on an early foggy morning. It was raining and we couldn't see anything. There were voices of German guards, dog barking, noises and women crying. Women, men, small children and old people were grouped separately. The Germans were taking smaller children away from their mothers. Old people and small children were sent to the crematorium. I stayed close to my father. Somebody advised me to stand on a few bricks in the line to look taller since I was short. The Germans looked past me. So I survived. After we were separated we didn't see my mother and sisters again. We washed ourselves, put on striped uniforms and went to the barracks. There were bare two-tier wooden plank beds: there were no mattresses or pillows, to say nothing of bed sheets. We were woken up at dawn. There were too many inmates in the barrack and they jammed at the narrow door, while the Germans hurried us with lashes. It was raining outside. We got watery coffee with no sugar and 200 grams of bread. This made our meal for the day and every day we received this same portion. We stood in the rain the whole day until we were allowed to return to our barrack in the evening. The next day was the same. The area was fenced with electrified barbed wire. The voltage was so high that one couldn't come closer than five meters to the barbed fence. Every morning we saw dead bodies hanging on the wire: some inmates couldn't bear the hunger, beating and torture and jumped onto the wire.

We stayed in Auschwitz for five days. I didn't have my number tattooed on my arm, but I was given an eight-digit number. I don't remember it now. After five days we were sent to work in Erlenbusch. We were lucky to be sent to work. My father and I worked in a stone quarry. We learned to quarry and cut stone that was loaded on trolleys. Everybody had to work hard. There was no pity for anyone. It was hard work from morning till evening. We were guarded by German soldiers with machine guns and dogs. Every morning we were lined up and checked. Every inmate had a number. When they said the number the person had to step ahead. After this check-up we went to work. We lived in tents. Those inmates that went to work got food. It was little food, just enough to stay alive.

I learned in the camp that there are no bad nations there are only bad people. One German officer was sympathetic with me. I was the youngest and he felt sorry for me. He gave me a piece of bread every day. Later we were taken from one camp to another. Whatever the distance was we always walked. We walked at night and stayed in the woods until dark. The Germans shot those that couldn't move on, leaving the dead behind. It rained and we were wet. We didn't get any food on our way. I saved small pieces of bread that the German officer had given me in Erlenbusch. This bread saved me and my father. We traveled from one camp to another. It's difficult for me to recall our route. We stayed a few days in Birkenau and from there we moved to the last camp in Dachau, a death camp. My father and I were separated: old people and young people formed separate groups. We didn't get any food there. Hundreds of inmates were dying: every morning there were so many dead bodies that the others had to walk on them! All our emotions atrophied and we were indifferent to the surrounding. When I think about it now I'm horrified. Recollections of this time are unbearable for me.

We didn't get any news from the front. When we saw that the Germans were changing into dead inmates' clothes we wondered why they were doing this. The day when there was no guard left came. There were no Germans left in the camp. All inmates gathered. We didn't know what happened when we saw planes making rounds over the camp. We thought that they were going to drop bombs on the camp when we noticed red stars on their wings. The planes began to drop something that fell on the land, but didn't explode. We came closer and saw packages with bread, butter and chocolate. The starved people greedily grabbed the food. Somebody told me that we had starved too long and couldn't eat too much. I was angry with him at that moment, but later I understood that he was right. Many people died from eating too much. So much food happened to be deadly for people that had only eaten miserable stuff for so long. On the first days of May 1945 Soviet troops came to the camp. This was long waited for freedom. It was a happy day in my life that I'll never forget. We cried out of joy and kissed our liberators.

After I was liberated I didn't have any information about my family. I didn't see my father and thought that he had perished. After the liberation I decided to go home. I didn't know the way and just followed other people. In a village I sat down on a bench to rest when somebody called my name. I looked up and saw my father! It was a happy reunion. We walked on together. We hoped that other members of our family had also survived. I don't know how long it took us to finally get to Dolgoye Pole. My older brother Mayer and my sister Clara were at home. They told us that my mother and younger sister Olga had perished in Auschwitz. My grandfather Eikef and my mother's sisters also perished in Auschwitz and so did my mother's older brother Ignas. He was the strongest man in the village. He could do any hard work. He would have survived in the camp, but when the Germans took his little son to the crematorium my uncle went there with him. They both perished.

Our house had been destroyed during the war. We lived in my grandfather Eikef's house. When my brother and sister came to the village our neighbors told us that they had our belongings. They took our things during the war and when we returned they brought them back to us. People sympathized with us and tried to help. They were kind and supportive. We knew that many former inmates of German camps were arrested in the USSR, but we didn't suffer any oppression. The Soviet power didn't change people's attitudes in our village. It remained a small and quiet village.

My father became a farmer again. My brother studied to be a joiner and then went to work. I was finishing lower secondary school and helped to do chores at home. My brother was very sickly and weak after he returned from the camp. There wasn't enough food or medication. The doctors couldn't help him and Mayer died in 1948. We buried him near our grandmother's grave in the cemetery in Dolgoye Pole. Unfortunately this cemetery was destroyed when a gas pipeline was installed in the 1960s.

After finishing school I became an apprentice to a mechanic in a car shop in Uzhgorod. It was the only car shop in town. After the war people spoke mostly Hungarian in Uzhgorod. We lived in Dolgoye Pole, but I studied and then worked in Uzhgorod. I got up at 3am, walked two kilometers to the railway station to take a train to Uzhgorod and returned home in the evening. Life was difficult. There wasn't enough food and it was hard to get a job. I wanted to have a profession that would enable me to support my family. I believed that the profession of a car mechanic was exactly what I needed. I tried to do my best to learn all I could from my skilled colleagues. I knew that I had to earn money. After finishing my training course I got a job at the car shop.

In 1949 I was recruited to the Soviet army. [Editor's note: Young men of 18 years of age were subject to mandatory military service. The term of service at the time that Ivan Moshkovich talks about was four years.] I started my service in Belarus and then I was sent to Vladivostok in the Far East where I served until the end of my term. I served in a construction battalion. The inhabitants of Subcarpathia weren't in big favor with the rest of the Soviet Union since Hungary had been an ally of Germany in World War II. Construction battalions were the least prestigious military units and the only military subdivisions where we could serve. We worked at the construction of an airfield. Later I became a driving instructor training soldiers. My service lasted for four years. When I came to the army I didn't face any anti-Semitism, but by the end of my term at the beginning of 1953 there were such signs. The newspapers published articles about doctors that plotted to poison Stalin. All the names they listed were Jewish. [Ivan Moshkovich is referring to the Doctors' Plot.] 8

I remember 5th March 1953 when Stalin died. The soldiers and officers didn't hide their tears. Since I came from an area that had joined the USSR recently I didn't feel any grief. We weren't raised with the name of Stalin like those that were born during the Soviet regime, and didn't feel any love or devotion towards him. We, the residents of Subcarpathia, were constantly watched by KGB 9 agents, of whom there were many in the army. I remember I had a friend from Mukachevo. On 5th March when everybody else was crying he was lying under a car doing some repairs. A KGB agent approached him and asked if he knew who Stalin was. My friend said that he did and was sorry that he had died, but he was an old man. He was arrested at night and never returned. Many soldiers of our battalion were arrested that night and never returned. It was a terrifying time when one could pay the price of one's life for any word one said... I didn't join the Komsomol 10 or the Party and tried to stay away from politics.

In 1950 my sister Clara married a Jew from Uzhgorod, his last name was Weber. My sister's husband was a mechanic at the instrument manufacturing plant. Clara and her husband registered their marriage at a registry office and had a party with a chuppah at home. A rabbi from the synagogue in Uzhgorod conducted the wedding ceremony at home. My sister wrote me about her wedding, but I couldn't go there because of my duties. She moved to her husband in Uzhgorod.

My father married a very nice Jewish widow. They also had a Jewish wedding. My father's second wife had a house in Uzhgorod and my father moved in with her. After he moved to Uzhgorod my father didn't work: he became a pensioner and received an old age pension. I was happy for him. They were a loving and caring family. I often visited them when I returned from the army. My father was 95 when he died. He lived a hard life, but he was happy living through every single day. He remained religious: he prayed at home every day and observed all laws and traditions. My father went to the synagogue on Sabbath and Jewish holidays and later, when the Soviet authorities closed it he went to a prayer house. My father worked until the end of his days and could walk on his own. He died in Uzhgorod in 1985. We buried him in accordance with Jewish traditions in the Jewish cemetery. I recited the Kaddish for him. I couldn't sit shivah.

After demobilization I lived with my sister Clara. My sister and her husband received a plot of land to build a house. They constructed their own house. Then their son was born. I forgot his name. My sister worked at the garment factory. My sister and her husband observed Jewish traditions at home. It was difficult to follow the kashrut. Those were hard years when it was a problem to buy any food, not to mention kosher products. Of course, they didn't eat pork. On Friday evening my sister lit candles after she came from work and we celebrated Sabbath. My sister's husband and I went to the synagogue on holidays. My sister tried to cook traditional Jewish food for holidays. We always had matzah on Pesach. At first we bought it at the synagogue and when the synagogue was closed matzah was brought from Budapest or made at home. On Yom Kippur we all, except for Clara's little son, fasted.

Clara's family lived the life of a typical Soviet family. They worked six days a week with Sunday being the only day off. My sister took her son to the kindergarten on her way to work in the morning and in the evening the family got together for dinner. On Sunday my sister did the house chores and her husband took their son for a walk in the park or to the cinema. I usually prepared for my entrance exams to college on Sunday. My sister and her family usually spent their summer vacation at home in Uzhgorod.

I got back to my work at the car shop. Later I entered an automobile college and after finishing it I returned to the car shop where I became an engineer. My car shop became the first car pool enterprise in town. There was no public transportation in Uzhgorod at that time. I was authorized to create a public transportation network for the town. We started with buses. People weren't used to going by bus and we had to convince them to start using it. I worked as a driver for some time on various routes and then became a foreman in the garage. I worked at the road traffic safety department before I retired, I taught driving rules and examined candidates in GAI [traffic police]. It was strenuous work, but I liked it. I retired last year after I had been working at the same enterprise for 54 years. I never faced any anti-Semitism, my colleagues always treated me with respect.

Some of my co-villagers also moved to Uzhgorod from Dolgoye Pole. They were my friends and some still are. I also had friends at work. I had both Jewish and non-Jewish friends. I've never had any prejudice against non- Jews, but I always remembered my Jewish identity. I couldn't celebrate Sabbath since Saturday was a working day, but I always celebrated all Jewish holidays with my sister's family. There was a significant Jewish population in Uzhgorod at that time and there were always many people at the synagogue on holidays.

We also celebrated Soviet holidays that were always days off. We had to attend parades from work and after parades we liked to get together and have fun - we sang and danced and told funny stories, although we didn't care about those holidays, except for Victory Day 11 on 9th May.

I only wanted to marry a Jewish girl, I couldn't imagine otherwise, but there were hardly any single girls in Uzhgorod. I was sent to work in the small town of Solotvin in Subcarpathia. There were some nice Jews that became my friends there. They said they knew a nice Jewish girl in Chernovtsy. I went to Chernovtsy and met my future wife Faina Shystman, Fania in Jewish. Faina was born in the village of Ozarintsy, Vinnitsa region, in 1937. My wife's father, Zamvel Shystman, was a shoemaker and her mother, Etia Shystman, was a dressmaker. They had five children. My wife was their third child. She has two older sisters, born in 1931 and 1933, a younger brother, born in 1940, and a younger sister, born in 1944. My wife's parents were religious and she was raised religiously, too.

Faina was four when the war began. The fascists occupied Ozarintsy and sent all Jews to the ghetto in Shargorod 12, Vinnitsa region. In March 1944 the Soviet army liberated the inmates of the ghetto in Shargorod and my wife's family returned home. My wife's uncle, her father's brother, lived in Chernovtsy. He took Faina there. He thought that it would be easier for Faina to find a job in a bigger town as well as accommodate her personal life. After finishing school at 16 Faina went to work at the glove factory. We met in Chernovtsy and got married on 7th December 1958. We had a traditional Jewish wedding in Solotvin. The rabbi conducted the ceremony and there was a chuppah. My wife and I lived in Solotvin for two years and then returned to Uzhgorod. I received an apartment from the enterprise where I worked.

We have two children: our son Dmitri, born in 1958, and our daughter Olga, born in 1962 who was named after my sister who perished in Auschwitz. Dmitri's Jewish name is Mayer after my elder brother. My son was circumcised as required by Jewish traditions. They are nice children. They helped my wife and me to do work about the house. They studied well at school. We tried to spend as much time as possible with the children. On Sunday, our only day off, we took them for a walk in the park, to the cinema or theater. In the evening we read books to them and had discussions. My wife and I enjoyed spending time with the children. They told us about their hobbies and they often had friends visiting them. My children didn't face any anti-Semitism at school. Everybody was friendly there. Whenever I had my vacation in summer I took my family to a village in Subcarpathia for two weeks. We swam in the river and walked in the woods. Our children spent their summer vacations in children's camps. They liked it there. After my wife fell ill we couldn't go on vacation any longer and I had less free time in the evening and at weekends.

My wife and I observed Jewish traditions, but we didn't do it as openly as we used to before the war. We didn't go to the synagogue on Saturday. We both worked and couldn't miss work. We only went to the synagogue on Jewish holidays: Pesach, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Purim. There were more Jews in Uzhgorod at that time than now. There were many people at the synagogue and nearby on Jewish holidays. After the synagogue was closed I went to a prayer house alone. We had to do it in secret since the Soviet authorities did not really tolerate religion.

We made matzah for Pesach. It takes flour and water to make matzah. Also, one needs to know that it should take no longer than 18 minutes from the moment of making the dough to the time of putting it in the oven [otherwise it is not kosher]. We always fasted on Yom Kippur and raised our children according to Jewish traditions. It was difficult at that time since any demonstration of one's Jewish identity was regarded as Zionism. The Soviet authorities struggled against Zionism and even arrested people. My wife and I spoke Russian and Yiddish at home, and she learned Hungarian after some time. We spoke Russian and Hungarian with the children. It was hard to follow the kashrut at that time. To buy food was a problem. There were lines in stores. However, we did our best to at least stick to the rules of the kashrut whenever possible. We ate meat and dairy products separately. We bought chickens at the market and our son took them to the shochet. The shochet was working throughout all these years.

After finishing school our son entered the Technical Faculty of Lvov Polytechnic College, which had an affiliate in Uzhgorod. He completed his studies in Lvov. He is a radio engineer. After finishing college he returned to Uzhgorod. He worked at a design office. He was an industrious employee and received awards and incentives for his work. He has patent certificates for his own inventions. Dmitri is married and has a son, Henrich, born in 1986. My grandson was named after my father. My son married a Ukrainian girl called Maria. My wife and I had no objections to their marriage. They get along well and have no conflicts related to nationality. Our son supports and helps us.

Our daughter became a hairdresser. She married a young man called Berman from a nice family in Uzhgorod. They had a traditional Jewish wedding. We had a chuppah made for them at home. My daughter took her husband's last name of Berman. She has a son called Edward, born in 1985. In the 1990s my daughter, her husband and son moved to Israel and then to the USA and live in Brooklyn, New York. They have a good life there. They have their own house. Olga works in a Jewish organization. They observe all traditions. She is a hairdresser and makes wigs. My daughter and I correspond and she often calls me on the phone. Olga keeps me posted about her situation. Thank God my children are doing fine.

When Jews began to move to Israel my wife and I didn't have any opportunity to move there, too. My wife fell very ill and was confined to bed. So we didn't even consider leaving. My sister and her family emigrated to the USA 15 years ago and also live in Brooklyn, New York. My sister and her husband are pensioners and Clara's son and his wife work. Their grandson goes to school. She left us the house that she and her husband built after the war. My son was already married and I gave him our apartment and we moved into my sister's house. That's where we live now.

We were enthusiastic about perestroika 13 initiated by Gorbachev 14. This was the first time in the history of the USSR when we got an opportunity to get in touch with our relatives and friends from abroad. The Iron Curtain 15, which separated the USSR from the rest of the world, fell. Of course, there were some negative things as well. Life became more difficult from a material point of view, but we felt free. Besides, perestroika gave a start to the revival of Jewish life in the USSR.

A Jewish community was formed in Uzhgorod in the late 1980s. My son and I began to go to the synagogue on a regular basis. My son knows the prayers and prays like I do. Jews have always had their own way of life in Uzhgorod, only during the Soviet regime they had to do it in secret [during the struggle against religion] 16. Later, when so many Jews were moving to Israel, there were hardly any left to go to the synagogue. There were times when there weren't even ten people at the synagogue and we had to go home. [A minyan, that is, ten male adults are needed in order to hold a prayer service.] After Ukraine gained independence Jewish life improved. I happened to be the only Jew that could say a prayer properly. I was always asked to say prayers. I refused since my ill wife was waiting for me at home. She needed me.

Then I was elected chairman of the Jewish community of Uzhgorod. Now I teach people to do things appropriately, how to pray and follow all Jewish rituals and traditions. We are all very close in our community. We had guests: rabbis from America and Israel. They liked the services in our synagogue. We are not concerned that a prayer would have to be cancelled: there are always many people at the synagogue. On Friday evening we give them two buns and challah to celebrate Sabbath at home. On Saturday we arrange for a meal. Women come to the synagogue on holidays, four times a year: on Pesach, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Purim.

Subcarpathian residents had a simplified procedure of traveling to Hungary. I took advantage of this fact and got in touch with a synagogue in Budapest. I asked for prayer books in Hebrew and Hungarian which is spoken by the majority of the inhabitants in Uzhgorod. When they notified me that the package was ready I drove to Budapest to pick up the prayer books in Hebrew, with a Russian and Hungarian translation, and take them to Uzhgorod. Now each person can read the prayers. I tell people about how they should celebrate holidays and about the history of the holidays. I teach them how to celebrate Sabbath and conduct the seder. I read the Torah to them and tell them what my father told me when I was a child. More and more people come to the synagogue. Young people or those that never came before come now.

I'm happy that Jewish life will continue when old people die. We invite children to the synagogue to teach them and give them gifts on holidays. Although my daughter-in-law is not a Jew, my grandson is raised in two cultural environments. I don't know whether he has ever been to church, but Henrich comes to the synagogue every Saturday with his father. My son has a 'Jewish corner' in his house where he keeps his accessories for praying and religious books. My son works in the Sochnut 17, a Jewish organization. Dmitri is the coordinator of the Sochnut in Subcarpathia. He replaced a former coordinator who emigrated in 1997. His change to this position took two days and since then my son has kept it.

In 1999 Hesed was established in our town. It provides big assistance to people. Hesed doesn't only support people in this hard time, but also gives them a chance to keep in touch and attend various clubs, get involved in Jewish culture that was outlawed for so long. People visit Hesed with their families and all generations can find what they are interested in there. The most important thing is that our children and grandchildren are raised as Jews and are proud to be Jews.

Glossary

1 Subcarpathia (also known as Ruthenia, Russian and Ukrainian name Zakarpatie)

Region situated on the border of the Carpathian Mountains with the Middle Danube lowland. The regional capitals are Uzhhorod, Berehovo, Mukachevo, Khust. It belonged to the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy until World War I; and the Saint-Germain convention declared its annexation to Czechoslovakia in 1919. It is impossible to give exact historical statistics of the language and ethnic groups living in this geographical unit: the largest groups in the interwar period were Hungarians, Rusyns, Russians, Ukrainians, Czech and Slovaks. In addition there was also a considerable Jewish and Gypsy population. In accordance with the first Vienna Decision of 1938, the area of Subcarpathia mainly inhabited by Hungarians was ceded to Hungary. The rest of the region, was proclaimed a new state called Carpathian Ukraine in 1939, with Khust as its capital, but it only existed for four and a half months, and was occupied by Hungary in March 1939. Subcarpathia was taken over by Soviet troops and local guerrillas in 1944. In 1945, Czechoslovakia ceded the area to the USSR and it gained the name Carpatho-Ukraine. The region became part of the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic in 1945. When Ukraine became independent in 1991, the region became an administrative region under the name of Transcarpathia.

2 Kolkhoz

3 Great Patriotic War

4 KuK (Kaiserlich und Koeniglich) army

The name 'Imperial and Royal' was used for the army of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy, as well as for other state institutions of the Monarchy originated from the dual political system. Following the Compromise of 1867, which established the Dual Monarchy, Austrian emperor and Hungarian King Franz Joseph was the head of the state and also commander-in-chief of the army. Hence the name 'Imperial and Royal'.

5 First Czechoslovak Republic (1918-1938)

The First Czechoslovak Republic was created after the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy following World War I. The union of the Czech lands and Slovakia was officially proclaimed in Prague in 1918, and formally recognized by the Treaty of St. Germain in 1919. Ruthenia was added by the Treaty of Trianon in 1920. Czechoslovakia inherited the greater part of the industries of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy and the new government carried out an extensive land reform, as a result of which the living conditions of the peasantry increasingly improved. However, the constitution of 1920 set up a highly centralized state and failed to take into account the issue of national minorities, and thus internal political life was dominated by the struggle of national minorities (especially the Hungarians and the Germans) against Czech rule. In foreign policy Czechoslovakia kept close contacts with France and initiated the foundation of the Little Entente in 1921.

6 Elijah the Prophet

According to Jewish legend the prophet Elijah visits every home on the first day of Pesach and drinks from the cup that has been poured for him. He is invisible but he can see everything in the house. The door is kept open for the prophet to come in and honor the holiday with his presence.

7 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% 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%, 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.

8 Doctors' Plot

9 KGB

The KGB or Committee for State Security was the main Soviet external security and intelligence agency, as well as the main secret police agency from 1954 to 1991.

10 Komsomol

11 Victory Day in Russia (9th May)

National holiday to commemorate the defeat of Nazi Germany and the end of World War II and honor the Soviets who died in the war.

12 Shargorod

A town in the Ukraine, also known as Sharigrad. During World War II Jews from Romania were deported to various towns in Transnistria, which was then under German occupation. Large-scale deportations began in August 1941, after Romania and Germany occupied the previously Soviet territories of Bessarabia (today the Moldovan Republic) and Bukovina. Jews from the newly occupied Romanian lands (Bessarabia and Bukovina), as well as from Romania were sent over the Dniester river to Transnistria. The severe living conditions, the harsh winter and a typhus epidemic contributed to the large number of deaths in the camps established in many towns of Transnistria.

13 Perestroika (Russian for restructuring)

14 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.

15 Iron Curtain

16 Struggle against religion

17 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.

Bella Zeldovich

Bella Zeldovich
Odessa
Ukraine
Interviewer: Alexandr Tonkonogiy
Date of interview: December 2002

Bella Zeldovich is a nice gray-haired, elderly woman. She was willing to give this interview, but she preferred to talk about others rather than herself. Bella keeps her house clean and cozy. She lives with her daughter, who is married and does all the necessary housework. The apartment is furnished with furniture bought in the 1980s. There are many tiny things such as vases and statuettes in the house.

My family backgrownd

My family backgrownd

My grandfather on my father's side, Solomon Zeldovich was born in Vilno [today Vilnius, Lithuania] in 1860. All I know about my grandfather is what my father told me. My grandfather's parents passed away when he was small and he was raised at the municipal children's home in Vilno. In the late 1860s some childless relatives of his took him to Nikolaev where they lived. They must have been wealthy people since they could afford to give him a good education. My father said that my grandfather finished a grammar school and studied at Novorossiysk University [after 1919 Odessa University].

My grandfather supplied timber to the shipbuilding yard in Nikolaev. He owned a big storage facility and five residential buildings in the center of Nikolaev where he also leased apartments. My grandfather's family lived in one of these houses near the timber storage facility. They were religious. They followed the kashrut and my grandfather went to the synagogue on holidays. He had a beard and moustache and wore clothing typical for merchants. My father told me that there were Jewish self- defense 1 units during the 1905 pogroms 2 in some streets in Nikolaev and those neighborhoods didn't suffer that much. In my grandfather's neighborhood there was also a self-defense unit and their Russian neighbors also helped them. My grandfather's property didn't suffer from pogroms.

My grandfather died of a heart attack in Nikolaev in 1915 at the age of 55. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Nikolaev. After the Revolution of 1917 3, when the synagogue didn't operate for some time, my grandmother Leya Zeldovich, nee Lichtenzon, leased one of their houses to the Jewish community to serve as a prayer house for Jews.

My grandmother was born in Nikolaev in 1864. She came from a religious family and was religious, too. She always lit candles on the Eve of Sabbath. She wore a wig that she only took off before she went to bed. When I came to her room in the evening I didn't recognize her and always asked my parents, 'Who's this old woman sitting in our room?'. They explained to me that it was my grandmother who had taken off her wig. My grandparents got married in 1879 when my grandfather studied at university. They were very young when they got married. No doubt, they had a traditional wedding. My grandmother's oldest daughter was born in 1880 when she was 16.

My grandmother was a housewife. From the time I remember her she could hardly walk and her condition got worse with age. In 1930 she moved to her older daughter in Odessa. Since she was paralyzed she needed special care and my parents couldn't afford to pay for a nurse. My grandmother died of a heart attack in Odessa in 1930 at the age of 66. She was buried in Odessa. My grandfather Solomon and grandmother Leya had seven children: Rosa, Elizabeth, Boris, Leo, my father Samuel, Aron and Manya. All of them except for Boris were born in Nikolaev. The family was wealthy and all children got a good education.

My father's older sister Rosa was born in 1880. She finished grammar school and medical school. She worked as a medical nurse. She was married. Her husband's name was Natan and he was a Jew. Rosa had two children: Munia and Nyuma. They were much older than I. I don't remember if Rosa's family observed Jewish traditions. Rosa and her family moved to Odessa in the late 1920s. Rosa's husband and children perished at the front during the Great Patriotic War 4. Rosa perished in the ghetto in Odessa in 1941.

Elizabeth was born in 1882. She finished grammar school and the Medical Faculty of Novorossiysk University. In Nikolaev Elizabeth met a Jewish man from Lodz, Poland. She and her husband moved to Lodz before the Revolution of 1917. She worked as a doctor there. She had a daughter called Ella. My parents corresponded with Elizabeth. When World War II began in 1939, Elizabeth's family moved to Belgium. When Germans occupied Belgium in 1940 they wanted to move to England by boat. The ship was bombed by German planes. Elizabeth and her family perished. My parents only got to know about their death after the Great Patriotic War.

My father's older brother Boris was born in 1884 in Saint-Petersburg, where my grandparents lived temporarily during some business. He finished a grammar school in Nikolaev and then an art school in Saint-Petersburg. Boris was an artist, a painter. He was married and had two children: Lilia and Rafael. He died in Saint-Petersburg in 1910. I have no information about his wife and daughter. His son Rafael was a painter, too. He died in Leningrad in 1992.

My father's second brother Leo was born in 1886. After finishing grammar school in Nikolaev he graduated from the Shipbuilding Institute in Saint- Petersburg. He worked as an engineer at the shipbuilding yard in Nikolaev. Leo was married, but had no children. He died in Leningrad in 1930. I have no information about his wife.

My father's third brother Aron was born in Nikolaev in 1890. Aron finished secondary school and a technical college in Moscow. During World War I he served in the tsarist army and was in captivity in Austria. He told his family that Germans treated him well when he was in captivity. He returned to Russia in 1918. Aron got married in 1921. His wife's name was Sarah. They had a son called Lyoma. In the 1930s Aron and his family moved to Odessa where he was superintendent in a shop of the garment factory. During the Great Patriotic War Sarah and Lyoma were in evacuation in Tashkent. After the war Aron continued to work as a shop superintendent at the garment factory. He died in Odessa in 1957. His wife and son moved to Australia in the early 1970s, and, after a few years, further on to the US. His wife died in the 1980s, and his son works as a doctor in America.

My father's younger sister Manya was born in 1892. She finished a grammar school. She was married. Her husband's name was Semyon. Manya moved to Odessa in the 1930s. After the war she moved to Moscow with her family. She was a housewife and had a daughter called Ella. Manya died in Moscow in 1976. I have no information about her husband. Her daughter Ella lives in Israel and works as a doctor.

My father, Samuel Zeldovich, was born in Nikolaev on 20th September 1888. He finished a grammar school in Nikolaev and then a commercial college in Vienna. In 1914 my grandfather sent my father to Palestine to get familiar with our historical Motherland. At that time World War I began and all young people subject to recruitment were ordered to return to Russia. So my father returned to Russia. He was recruited to the tsarist army in which he served until the end of World War I. He returned to Nikolaev in the early 1920s.

My mother's father, Avrum Chernenko, was born in the village of Zultz [since 1945 Veseloye], Nikolaev region, in 1864. It was a German colony 5, although there was a German, Russian, Ukrainian and Jewish population in this village. I don't know what my grandfather Avrum did for a living. His family wasn't wealthy. They rented a house in the village. My grandfather was deeply religious. He went to the synagogue several times a week and prayed at home regularly with his tallit and tefillin on. He wore a beard and a kippah at home. He was a very handsome and tall man, and very intelligent.

During the Civil War 6, when pogroms began, a nice German family helped my grandfather's family to move to Nikolaev. Later, some Germans visited us in Nikolaev and then in Odessa. I don't know who arranged the pogroms, but my parents said that they took away everything they could lay their hands on. White Guards 7 came and there was a pogrom and when the power switched to red troops [Reds] 8 there were also pogroms and it was difficult to make a difference between these gangs 9. In Nikolaev my grandfather's family rented an apartment and my grandfather worked as assistant in some shop. In 1932 he moved to Odessa and lived with my parents. My grandfather refused to evacuate during the Great Patriotic War and perished in 1941. He didn't believe that Germans would do any harm to Jews. He was shot in the village of Dalnik 10 at the age of 77.

My grandmother on my mother's side, Ella Chernenko, was born in Zultz in 1865. I don't know her maiden name. She was educated at home; her father taught her to read and write in Yiddish and to pray in Hebrew. She was a housewife. My grandparents got married in 1883. My grandmother died of a stroke in Nikolaev in 1927 or 1928, at the age of about 62. I was very young back then and don't remember her at all. My parents told me that she was buried in accordance with Jewish traditions. Kaddish was recited at the funeral and my grandfather kept sitting on the floor for seven days after her funeral. My maternal grandparents had four children: Isaac, Israel, Clara and my mother Sarah.

My mother's older brother Isaac was born in 1884. He studied at cheder in Zultz and finished the commercial school in Nikolaev. I don't know what he did for a living in Nikolaev after he finished school. In the 1930s he moved to Odessa where he worked as a shop assistant in a haberdashery store. He got married to a woman called Bella and they had a son called Leonid. At the beginning of the Great Patriotic War Isaac said, 'You may leave if you feel like it, but we shall stay here. I don't believe that Germans will do us any harm. It must be propaganda'. Isaac and his son Leonid were shot in Dalnik, like my grandfather, in 1941. Isaac's son Leonid was only 11 years old.

My mother's brother Israel was born in 1888. Like his older brother he finished the commercial college in Nikolaev. Israel was married; his wife's name was Rachel. They didn't have any children. In 1932 he moved to Odessa where he worked in the same store as his brother Isaac. He was a shop assistant. During the Great Patriotic War Israel and his wife stayed in Odessa. When Germans occupied Odessa they arrested him immediately. I don't know how he perished. His wife was hiding in a Russian family. I don't know whether they were their friends or neighbors. In 1943 somebody reported on her and she perished, too.

My mother's older sister Clara was born in Zultz in 1890. In the 1930s she moved to Odessa with her family. Clara was a housewife. She was married and had a daughter named Katherine. Katherine was finishing her 1st year of studies at the Chemical Faculty of Odessa University when the Great Patriotic War began. Clara and her daughter evacuated to Aktyubinsk [Kazakhstan]. Katherine went to study at Moscow Medical Institute which had evacuated to Tashkent. Upon graduation she moved to Leningrad. She got married there in 1946. Her husband was Russian. He was sentenced to imprisonment in 1949 and was at the wood-logging site in Omskaya region, Siberia. Katherine followed her husband with her baby. They returned to Leningrad after four years. Katherine died in Leningrad in the 1960s. Clara had returned to Odessa where she died in 1947. I don't know what happened to her husband.

My mother was the youngest in the family. She was born in Zultz in 1902. I don't know where she studied. My grandfather taught her Jewish traditions and prayers. Grandmother Ella taught her housekeeping and cooking. She made traditional Jewish food: gefilte fish, chicken and strudels. My mother lived with her parents in Nikolaev before she got married. She helped her mother about the house.

My parents never told me how they met. I guess they met when my mother's family moved to Nikolaev. They got married in 1924 and only had a civil ceremony. They lived in my grandmother's house, which had a number of rooms. They also had housemaids. I don't know what my father did for a living. He might have been a businessman. My grandmother had a room of her own, and my parents had a few rooms for themselves. I had my own children's room. We had meals in the big dining room. The house was nicely furnished. My grandmother had a woman who took care of her. There was also a housemaid.

I was born on 13th September 1925. My brother Leonid was born in Nikolaev on 1st September 1932.

My mother was a housewife. My father and mother came from religious families. They went to the synagogue on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and fasted on Yom Kippur. I remember a general clean-up of the house before Pesach and the removal of chametz from the house. Fancy dishes were put on the table. There was matzah and other traditional food: gefilte fish, chicken broth, maror (horseradish), charoset and kosher wine. Grandfather Avrum visited us on Pesach. He conducted the seder. I, and, later my brother Leonid, asked our father the traditional four questions [the mah nishtanah]. Our grandfather hid afikoman in the room and we had to find it.

I can't remember any anti-Semitism in Nikolaev. I remember our Russian neighbors, who were as wealthy as Grandfather Solomon. They treated us very well.

In November 1932 our house and belongings were confiscated. It was the end of the NEP 11. My parents, Grandfather Avrum, my little brother and I moved to Odessa to escape the persecutions of the authorities. We lived in a communal apartment 12 in Paster Street in the central, rich neighborhood of Odessa. We occupied two rooms: 23 and 16 square meters. There was another room with other tenants. We had a common kitchen, running water and a toilet in the apartment. There was a stove to heat the apartment with either wood or coal.

My father was a superintendent at a haberdashery shop. My mother was a housewife. My father spoke Russian and sometimes Yiddish to my mother. He also had a good knowledge of German since he had studied in Vienna. My mother spoke Russian, German and Yiddish. I understand Yiddish because I heard my mother and father speak it.

There was a Jewish theater in Odessa before the war. My mother and I often went to watch performances there. As far as I remember, there were plays by Sholem Aleichem 13 on the schedule. My mother and I really liked the performances of the Jewish actress Lia Bugova. [Famous Jewish actress in Odessa, after World War II she performed at the Russian theater in Odessa.] My father never went to the theater.

In Odessa we continued to celebrate Sabbath, Pesach and other Jewish holidays. My grandfather Avrum said a prayer on the Eve of Sabbath. My mother lit the candles. Grandfather Avrum blessed the children. He and my mother tried to observe Sabbath, but my father couldn't have a rest on Saturday because he had to work. My grandfather also conducted the seder on Pesach. Our relatives and friends visited us - there were usually about 20 guests. Our gatherings were very ceremonious. We usually bought matzah at the synagogue or at Jewish bakeries. We had traditional Jewish food on Pesach: fish, matzah and other delicacies. My grandfather and my parents went to the synagogue in Peresyp 14 near our house on Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah. When my grandfather was still alive our family fasted on Yom Kippur. After he died only my mother observed the fasting. She always took chickens to the shochet to have them slaughtered there.

In 1933 I went to a Russian school. We studied chemistry, physics, mathematics, Russian and Ukrainian. I know German, Russian and Ukrainian. The majority of our teachers were Jews. I was fond of mathematics. I had Russian and Jewish friends at school. I became a Komsomol 15 member at school. I also attended dancing classes and had piano lessons at a music school. My brother Leonid went to the same school.

1933 was the period of a terrible famine in Ukraine 16. My family didn't starve. The husband of my father's sister Manya worked at the windmill in Peresyp. He received flour for his work and shared it with us. We baked bread and ate it.

1937 was the year when arrests began in Odessa and all over the country [during the so-called Great Terror] 17. People were arrested at night. There was a hospital and a medical institute across the street from our house, and many doctors and professors lived in our house. Many of our neighbors were arrested at night and their families had to move into the basement of the house. Our family didn't suffer from arrests.

My younger sister Lubov was born on 3rd April 1939. In the same year World War II began. We had discussions on this subject in our family and were very concerned about the situation. [Editor's note: All the information Bella's family had was from Soviet papers.] My father's sister Elizabeth lived in Poland and we didn't hear from her.

On 22nd June 1941 the Great Patriotic War began. It came as a surprise to us. We were afraid, of course. When the war began my father was 57. Regardless of his age he volunteered to the army and went as far as Berlin. My father was a very patient and reserved man. He never complained about the hardships of the war. When asked about that time he usually answered, 'It was a hard time for all of us, so, what can I say - thank God it's all over'.

Odessa had been bombed since July 1941, but the stores and the market were open. Many of our relatives didn't plan to evacuate from Odessa. My mother

hesitated for a long time and only decided to go when our neighbors brought her all the necessary evacuation permits and insisted that she took us, children, out of the house. These neighbors may have known how Germans treated Jews.

We left Odessa at the end of August or beginning of September 1941 I can't remember the exact date. We went by train and our trip was hard and long. My sister Lubov was two and my brother Leonid was nine years old. We had a small package of food and when we ran out of it my mother bought some or got some in exchange for clothes. It took us two weeks to get to the town of Mineralnyye Vody, Stavropol region, [1,100 km from Odessa]. From there we got to Georgievskaya station, near Mineralnyye Vody. After three months, when the frontline moved closer to the collective farm 18 where we worked, they evacuated us by tractors with trailers to the Caspian Sea. There we boarded a boat in November 1941. We crossed the Caspian Sea and got to Aktyubinsk, Kazakhstan, [2,000 km from Odessa]. We changed trains to get to Aktyubinsk and the trip took us about two and a half months. Whenever the train stopped at a station my mother asked our fellow travelers to get us some food or water since she didn't want to leave us alone. People were helping us. In Aktyubinsk we went to my mother's sister Clara, who had evacuated three months before. We stayed with her for some time until we rented a room from a Kazakh woman in the same house, where my mother's sister lived. There were two rooms and a kitchen in that apartment.

I worked during the day and went to a secondary school in the evenings. Many of our teachers were Jews. I finished school with a gold medal in 1943. I went to work at a military plant, in evacuation from Moscow that manufactured bombs. I had friends at this plant. One of my friends was a local girl called Aisha. We went for walks and to the local club for dance parties. I still correspond with her.

My mother stayed at home to take care of my sister and my brother Leonid, who was in the 3rd grade back then. We were in evacuation for almost three and a half years. We weren't used to the severe climate in Kazakhstan: minus 40 degrees in winter, and extremely hot in summer. Local people helped people who were in evacuation and supported them as much as they could. We never faced any anti-Semitism. We didn't observe any Jewish traditions though. We corresponded with my father all the time.

We returned to Odessa in April 1945, two weeks before the war was over. On 9th May [Victory Day] 19 we heard about the victory on the radio. Everybody was overwhelmed with joy. My father returned home - he was an old man and subject to immediate demobilization. We couldn't move into our apartment. The house had partly been ruined during the war and some family had repaired it and moved in. There was no way to get it back. Later we received a two-bedroom apartment with a kitchen in the same house where we had lived before the war.

My father was superintendent in the shop of a haberdashery factory. My mother was a housewife. My brother Leonid studied in the 7th grade. My sister Lubov was the youngest in our family and everyone's darling. In 1946 she also started school and my brother and I took turns to take her to school in order to help my mother.

A coupon system was introduced after the war. There were things to buy at the black market after the war, but the prices were too high - 200 rubles per loaf of bread while the average salary was 400 rubles. Nobody could afford to buy things there. The standard rate of bread per coupons was 400 grams for a child and 800 grams for an adult.

After the war

After the Great Patriotic War the synagogue in Peresyp opened. On Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah my mother and father went to the synagogue. It was possible to hear Yiddish in Odessa in those days. Jews were gradually returning from evacuation. In my opinion Jews weren't treated very well in Odessa after the war. Maybe the reason was that when Jews wanted to move into their old apartments, Russian families that occupied them were ordered to move out.

I got a job as an assistant accountant at the Financial College. In the evening I attended classes at the evening department of the Credit and Economy Faculty of Lomonosov Institute. Since I had finished school with a gold medal in Aktyubinsk I was admitted without exams. There were no restrictions for Jews to enter higher educational institutions. There were many Jewish students and Jewish lecturers at the institute - I don't remember the exact number. We didn't pay any attention to issues of nationality at that time. I had Russian and Jewish friends and didn't face any anti-Semitism.

Upon graduation in 1949 I got a job assignment 20 in Yerevan, the capital of Armenia. I worked as a credit inspector in the main bank of Armenia for three years. It was a good job and a good location. There were only Jews that had been in evacuation in Armenia and there were no synagogues. I didn't observe any traditions while I lived in Armenia - it was a very difficult post-war time. I was glad to have survived the war. I had gotten the job assignment in Armenia along with a friend of mine and we rented a room in a communal apartment together. There were no comforts in the apartment. It was heated with wood or coal. In 1949 the campaign against cosmopolitans 21 began. The Jewish and Armenian population was worried and concerned about the situation. After I completed the term of my job assignment I returned to Odessa.

In 1948 Israel was established. I was very enthusiastic about it, just like all other Jews. After such a horrific war, in which so many Jews had been exterminated, our people were happy to have a home country. However, the situation in Israel is rather severe and still our people are being killed. I've never thought of moving to Israel since the issue of moving to another country never interested me.

During the postwar period there were no restrictions for Jews to enter higher educational institutions as long as they were clever enough to pass their entrance exams. Those that finished school with a gold medal were admitted without entrance exams. My brother Leonid entered Odessa Polytechnic Institute and my sister Lubov entered Odessa Pedagogical Institute. All my cousins have a higher education, too. Difficulties for Jews that wanted to enter higher educational institutions began in the 1960s. [Editor's note: Iin reality, beginning from the early 1950s, admission of Jews was significantly restricted from the early 1950s and this limitation was authorized by the highest authorities as an expression of state anti-Semitism.] It was also difficult for Jews to get a job - Russians or Ukrainians were given priority. I believe it was a state policy; people of other nationalities had nothing to do with this segregation.

My brother Leonid finished school in 1948 and entered the Mechanical Faculty at Odessa Polytechnic Institute. He graduated in 1953 and worked as a mechanical engineer. In 1955 Leonid married Svetlana, a Jewish woman. They have a daughter called Marina. My brother has always had more Jewish friends. After he got married my brother and his family lived in a three- bedroom apartment. Leonid left for America three years ago. He lives in New York. He doesn't work any more - he's already 70 years old. His wife Svetlana looks after elderly people. His daughter Marina works as an economist in Odessa. She goes to the synagogue on Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah.

My sister Lubov finished school in 1955 and graduated from the Physics/Mathematic Faculty of Odessa Pedagogical Institute in 1960. She worked as a teacher at a secondary school. She got married in 1964. Her husband's name was Efim Yarmunik. He was a Jew. He was production manager at the Centrolit Factory. She has two sons; Igor and Sasha [Alexandr]. Igor graduated from the Agricultural Institute and got married. His wife's family moved to America, and Igor and his wife also decided to move there. My sister followed her older son. She left for America in 1990. Her husband died on his way to buy plane tickets, three months before their departure. He died at the age of 53. Lubov lives in New York now. She looks after elderly people. Igor and Sasha work as programmers.

I got married in 1951. My husband, Esay Germer, is Jewish. He was my schoolmate and we were neighbors. He was born in 1923. Esay was an only child. His father, Abram Germer, was arrested in 1937. He was sentenced to a term in the camps in Arkhangelsk. After Abram returned from exile he was murdered at the entrance to his house. We never found out who did it. Esay's mother was a housewife. She perished in the ghetto in Odessa during the Great Patriotic War.

In 1940 Esay entered a military school and in 1941 he went to the front. He finished the war in Berlin. After the war Esay served in Germany and we corresponded. In 1951 he came on leave to Odessa and we got married. We registered our marriage at a civil registration office.

After we got married Esay got an officer assignment to serve in Saratov where we lived for three years. I was an economist at the radio plant. We rented a room on the 3rd floor of a communal apartment. Our co-tenants were the family of my husband's colleague. We had central heating, water and a toilet in this apartment. We also had a common kitchen. There weren't many Jews in Saratov at that time. We mostly socialized with my husband's colleagues. They were military and there were hardly any Jews among them. There was a beautiful synagogue in Saratov, but I only went to look at it.

The Doctors' Plot 22 began in 1952. My daughter Katia was born on 26th January 1953. My doctor was a Jewish woman. She was very worried about the situation. There were rumors that Stalin wanted to deport Jews to the North and the Far East [Birobidzhan] 23. Thank God Stalin died and this didn't happen. When Stalin died in 1953 I and my family, along with many other people, were in grief and thought that there could be no life or justice without Stalin.

In 1953 my husband demobilized from the Soviet army with the rank of major. We didn't have any relatives or close friends in Saratov. Our family was in Odessa. Since our daughter Katia was only four months old I couldn't go to work. So we moved to Odessa. We lived with my parents, brother and sister. My sister Lubov was in the 8th grade and my brother Leonid was a student at an institute. We didn't have enough space in our two-bedroom apartment, but we got along well. My mother helped me with the baby and Lubov also enjoyed spending time with Katia.

My husband went to work as a polisher at the Poligraphmash Plant and went to study at the Evening Department of Odessa Polytechnic Institute. Upon graduation he worked at the Special Design Bureau of the plant. He was a mechanic engineer. He worked at the plant for many years. Esay was very valued at the plant. There were representatives of many nationalities at the plant but he never faced any anti-Semitism there. My husband wasn't a party member. He went to the synagogue on Yom Kippur. His relatives perished in Odessa during the war and he left a note with their names at the synagogue so that prayers would be said for them. We didn't observe other traditions.

In 1954 I went to work at the Mechanic Plant in Kvorostina Street. I worked as an economist at this plant until 1996. I worked in the area of Moldavanka [poor Jewish neighborhood on the outskirts of Odessa]. There were Russian families there, too, and they understood and spoke Yiddish. Ever so often, when two people talked in Yiddish, it was difficult to say who was Russian and who was Jewish. Once I asked my colleagues at the plant, 'Why do you all call this guy Mosha when he doesn't even look the least bit like a Jew?' They replied, 'He lives in Moldavanka. His neighbors are Jews and they call everybody in a Jewish manner'.

I worked 42 years at this plant. I had many friends there and still keep in touch with them. I was supposed to retire in 1980, but the management of the plant offered me to stay at work a little longer. I worked there for another 16 years. We were not poor; but we had neither dacha, nor car. However, my husband and I traveled a lot all over the USSR, visited the Caucasus, Latvia, Estonia and Uzbekistan.

Katia began school in 1960. She was successful with her studies. She was fond of mathematics and English. I associate the 1960s with my daughter's childhood and her teens. Katia had quite a few Jewish and Russian friends. They often came to visit her at home. Every year we arranged birthday parties for her at home. I liked watching her and her friends grow up and fall in love for the first time. Katia spent her vacations at a pioneer camp at the seashore. We traveled to the Crimea with the whole family several times. Katia finished school with a silver medal and entered the Faculty of Economics of Lomonosov Technological Institute. She had problems being admitted to the institute, which, I believe, was due to her nationality. She had to take entrance exams, although she had a silver medal. But she passed them and entered the institute. Upon graduation Katia worked as an economist at a design institute.

She got married in 1977. Her husband, Dmitriy Gershengorn, is a Jew. He graduated from the Mechanical Faculty of Lomonosov Technological Institute. He worked as a designer at a design institute. In the 1980s, during perestroika, this institute was closed and Dmitriy went to work as a foreman at a heating agency. My daughter works as an economist/accountant with a private company. My daughter's son Sergey was born in 1978. My husband and I became grandparents. I spent all my time with our little grandson. He was a great joy for me. I didn't quite notice how Sergey grew up and finished school. He is 24 now. Sergey graduated from the Mechanical Faculty of Odessa University. He works as a programmer at a bank. He doesn't go to the synagogue.

In 1975 my father died of a heart attack. My mother died in 1988. She had a brain tumor. They were both buried according to the Jewish tradition near the entrance to the Jewish cemetery. My husband died of rectum cancer in 1987. He was also buried in the Jewish cemetery.

Many of my acquaintances and relatives have recently left Odessa. The people that were leaving were treated with sympathy by others. Everybody understood that people had a right to live where they preferred to live. Only my niece remained in Odessa. I think it's a very brave decision of people to move to another country. I remember I couldn't wait to come back to Odessa when I had to stay a few years in Yerevan. Odessa is like a Promised Land to me.

At the end of the 1980s Jewish life revived in Odessa. The synagogue in Osipov Street was opened and the building of the main synagogue in Yevreyskaya Street was returned to the Jewish community . There are two Jewish schools, kindergartens, the charity center Gemilut Hesed and an Israeli cultural center in town. We receive Jewish newspapers and watch Jewish programs on television - all in Russian. There is a kosher store in the yard of the synagogue in Richelievskaya Street, and a slaughterhouse in Stolbovaya Street that supplies kosher meat to Jewish organizations and kosher stores.

I've lived with my daughter's family since my husband's death. I have many friends of different nationalities. I've been friends with some of them for 52 years already. My daughter and her husband go to the synagogue very seldom, but we have matzah on holidays and my daughter and I cook traditional Jewish food that our grandmothers used to make: gefilte fish, chicken and other delicious things. I buy matzah at the synagogue in Osipov Street. I hope that my grandson will go to the synagogue on holidays and remember us.

My family background
Growing up
During the War
Post-war
Glossary

1 Jewish self-defense movement

2 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.

3 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 WWI, 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.

4 Great Patriotic War

5 German colonists

Ancestors of German peasants, who were invited by Empress Catherine II in the 18th century to settle in Russia.

6 Civil War (1918-1920)

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 Reds

Red (Soviet) Army supporting the Soviet authorities.

9 Gangs

10 Dalnik

Village 20 km from Odessa, the site of mass executions of Jews during the war.

11 NEP

12 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 shared apartments continued to exist for decades. Despite state programs for the construction of more houses and the liquidation of shared apartments, which began in the 1960s, shared apartments still exist today.

13 Sholem Aleichem (pen name of Shalom Rabinovich (1859-1916)

Yiddish author and humorist, a prolific writer of novels, stories, feuilletons, critical reviews, and poem in Yiddish, Hebrew and Russian. He also contributed regularly to Yiddish dailies and weeklies. In his writings he described the life of Jews in Russia, creating a gallery of bright characters. His creative work is an alloy of humor and lyricism, accurate psychological and details of everyday life. He founded a literary Yiddish annual called Di Yidishe Folksbibliotek (The Popular Jewish Library), with which he wanted to raise the despised Yiddish literature from its mean status and at the same time to fight authors of trash literature, who dragged Yiddish literature to the lowest popular level. The first volume was a turning point in the history of modern Yiddish literature. Sholem Aleichem died in New York in 1916. His popularity increased beyond the Yiddish-speaking public after his death. Some of his writings have been translated into most European languages and his plays and dramatic versions of his stories have been performed in many countries. The dramatic version of Tevye the Dairyman became an international hit as a musical (Fiddler on the Roof) in the 1960s.

14 Peresyp

An industrial neighborhood in the outskirts of Odessa.

15 Komsomol

16 Famine in Ukraine

In 1920 a deliberate famine was introduced in the Ukraine causing the death of millions of people. It was arranged in order to suppress those protesting peasants who did not want to join the collective farms. There was another dreadful deliberate famine in 1930-1934 in the Ukraine. The authorities took away the last food products from the peasants. People were dying in the streets, whole villages became deserted. The authorities arranged this specifically to suppress the rebellious peasants who did not want to accept Soviet power and join collective farms.

17 Great Terror (1934-1938)

18 Collective farm (in Russian kolkhoz)

19 Victory Day in Russia

National holiday to commemorate the defeat of Nazi Germany and the end of World War II and honor the Soviets who died in the war.

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 Campaign against 'cosmopolitans'

22 Doctors' Plot

23 Birobidzhan

Formed in 1928 to give Soviet Jews a home territory and to increase settlement along the vulnerable borders of the Soviet Far East, the area was raised to the status of an autonomous region in 1934. Influenced by an effective propaganda campaign, and starvation in the east, 41,000 Soviet Jews relocated to the area between the late 1920s and early 1930s. But, by 1938 28,000 of them had fled the regions harsh conditions, There were Jewish schools and synagogues up until the 1940s, when there was a resurgence of religious repression after World War II. The Soviet government wanted the forced deportation of all Jews to Birobidzhan to be completed by the middle of the 1950s. But in 1953 Stalin died and the deportation was cancelled. Despite some remaining Yiddish influences - including a Yiddish newspaper - Jewish cultural activity in the region has declined enormously since Stalin's anti-cosmopolitanism campaigns and since the liberalization of Jewish emigration in the 1970s. Jews now make up less than 2% of the region's population.

Maria Baicher

Maria Baicher
Moscow
Russia
Interviewer: Svetlana Bogdanova
Date of interview: July 2003

Maria Baicher is a nice blue-eyed, vivid and ready to smile, plainly but tastefully dressed lady.

Since her husband Yuzef Kirtzer's death in 1998, she has lived alone in a three-bedroom apartment in the center of Moscow near the governmental office. It's a spacious and cozy apartment.

There is a big library and the walls are decorated with pictures and sculptures that her husband, who was an artist, and his friends made.

There are a few antique pieces of furniture that her grandmother left her and there is also furniture of the 1970s in the apartment.

She moved into this apartment in 1978 and since then, the apartment hasn't been renovated. Maria is thinking of renovations, but she is horrified at the amount of money needed.

She is quite well-off as she also has another apartment that she leases. It enables her to travel abroad, go to the cinema or first nights at theaters. On weekends she visits her son's family and helps them to look after their children.

Family background
Growing up
During the war
Post-war
Glossary

Family background

My paternal great-grandfather, Aaron Baicher, was born in 1799. He was a cantonist 1. Being an orphan, at the age of 13, he was taken to the tsarist army. He served for 25 years, and then obtained a permit to reside in Moscow. I don't know where he came from. I think that after his service was over he received a starting capital.

My great-grandfather took to business and was quite fortunate. He became a wood and construction materials dealer. He owned several wood storage facilities and a big house nearby. He was doing so well that during the Russian-Turkish War 2, my great-grandfather provided horses to the tsarist army.

He got married early. According to the family legend, my great-grandfather had over 40 children. He was married twice. In his first marriage, he had 17 children. This marriage ended tragically. Near Moscow, bandits attacked the family and killed my great-grandfather's wife and 15 children.

Only two children survived. He remarried my great-grandmother Hana, who I think was born in 1842. In this marriage, my great-grandfather had 26 children, and there were two children from his first marriage. People called them 'the Baichers that were almost slaughtered.' I saw one girl whom I met once at my grandmother's house in the 1930s.

Her surname, after her husband, was Poplavskaya. Unfortunately, I don't remember her first name. The family lived in a big house and the sons were growing up and lived to enjoy life. They used to take girls to restaurants. However, they only ate kosher food.

My great-grandfather and his family were religious Jews. He didn't give his children a higher education. He involved his sons in his business and they followed into his footsteps. He died in 1905 at the age of 106. After having a row with his wife he went to sleep in a summer hut where he caught a cold and died. He was buried in the Jewish section of Dragomilovskoye cemetery.

I saw my great-grandmother Hana only once in my life, in early 1941. She lived in the family of my great-grandfather's daughter from the first marriage - Poplavskaya. I remember her very well. She was 99. She was thin, gray-haired and rather tiny. She was already bedridden and passed away two months later, and was buried beside my great- grandfather's grave.

Unfortunately, I don't know the names of all of Aaron Baicher's children. Many of them died young, and many others were scattered around the world. The political situation in the country in the years following the [Russian] Revolution of 1917 3 dictated people to cut off their relationships to avoid doing any harm to their relatives [see Keep in touch with relatives abroad] 4.

My grandfather Yuli, whose Jewish name was Yudel, was born in 1874. His brother Daniel Baicher [1883-1938] had a daughter and a son. Aaron's third child was Lev Baicher. I never saw him in my grandmother's house, but when he died in 1961 his daughters invited all Baicher relatives to the funeral. Lev had two daughters, Lubov Zamyslova and Tatiana Yureneva, and a son named Esai Baicher. They had children, grandchildren and great- grandchildren. They live in Moscow. I also remember Aunt Pasha Baicher. She didn't have a family of her own and often visited us at home. She was lonely and kind, and loved my father.

Then came Arisha Baicher, Alexandra Baicher and Mendel Baicher. Mendel Baicher's older son Yuli perished at the front during the Great Patriotic War 5. Lisa Baicher - her descendants live in Moscow. Rina Baicher who was called Risha in the family, had no family of her own. I didn't know Grigori Baicher, but I knew his son Aaron very well.

He was born in 1920. Him, his wife Tatiana and their grandchildren Lyova and Ania moved to America in 1990. I also knew Aunt Minush - which was her Jewish name. Her other name was Mina Baicher. Her last name was Maltsena after her husband.

She had a son named Aaron who perished during the Great Patriotic War and a daughter, Ania Artamonova. I went to Aunt Minush's funeral in 1978. She was 88 and the youngest. She was buried in the Vostriakovskoye town cemetery, in the Jewish section, and no rituals were observed.

All members of the Baicher family who died before 1944, including my great- grandfather and grandfather, were buried in the Jewish section of Dragomilovskoye cemetery. There was a big and beautiful gravestone on my grandfather's grave. In the 1940s, during the construction of Kutuzovskiy Prospect, which became one of the central thoroughfares in Moscow, Dragomilovskoye cemetery was in the way and it was liquidated. We managed to move the grave and gravestone to the Jewish section of Vostriakovskoye cemetery where members of the Baicher family were buried afterward.

My grandfather, Yuli Baicher, was my great-grandfather's son from his second marriage. He was a big man of pleasant appearance, very kind and tolerant. My grandmother and grandfather met in the house of my great- grandfather's daughter from his first marriage, Poplavskaya. My grandfather was visiting them and my grandmother came from Smolensk [370 km from Moscow] to visit her acquaintances, and that's when they met. Then it was time for my grandmother to go back home to Smolensk. My grandfather went to take her to the railway station, but he went with her as far as Smolensk and in 1901 they got married. Their wedding took place at Krasnoye station. It is believed that their wedding was halfway between Moscow and Smolensk. I still have an invitation to the wedding.

My grandmother's father had passed away and so her mother signed the card. Grandfather also had his mother sign the invitation. They had a Jewish wedding with a rabbi and a chuppah. My grandmother's name was Ida and her Jewish name was Edlia, nee Fliamenbaum.

After she married grandfather she adopted his last name of Baicher. I don't know anything about her father. All I know from her documents is that her patronymic was Tanchunovna Chunovna. I don't know her maiden name. My great-grandmother's name was Reveka Fliamenbaum.

My grandmother was strict with the children. Since my father was not an obedient boy, he was often punished and the only person who forgave and sympathized with him was my grandfather.

My grandfather was a wood dealer like his father. He was very successful and provided well for his family. He had a wood storage in the center of Moscow. His family rented an apartment nearby. He was shot with a point-black firing rifle in his home in 1922. Some men wearing sailor uniforms came to his home and demanded money.

There was no money and they killed him before his younger son, my father's eyes. I knew a woman whose mother and my aunt were friends in their youth. She told me, 'I've heard this story about how they killed your grandfather.' His younger son, my father, was traumatized. He screamed and couldn't calm down for a long time since it all happened before his eyes.

My grandmother remarried. She married Nathan Tisee, a Jewish man, and moved into his apartment. Her second husband perished in NKVD 6 imprisonment. My grandmother lived in his apartment. She was a beautiful woman who liked life and was a good housewife. She liked having guests and was very religious. She went to the synagogue regularly and had a seat of her own there. She observed all Jewish holidays and fasted. My parents and I visited her.

I particularly remember Pesach. All relatives and their children got together in her home. There was traditional food on the table. There were no fridges, but they had a shed in the yard where they stored ice. She kept jellied meat and all other dishes that she cooked for holidays according to all rules, kneydlakh for broth and matzah. She made matzah for the holiday herself. She also bought matzah at the synagogue and ground it to have flour for her bakeries. She had special crockery for the holidays and it wasn't supposed to be used on other days.

My grandmother observed Sabbath. She didn't teach me the traditions. My mother was Russian, but my grandmother raised me to love Jewish holidays and delicious food, though she didn't really realize that I would remember and cherish this way of life. I liked it that my grandmother could sew well. She chose styles, embroidered and knitted, and I learned to do that too.

I went for walks along Moscow boulevards with her and to the cinema and when I became a student she liked to take me to the theater. My grandmother and mother often went to the Mikhoels 7 Theater.

My grandmother had housemaids before the war. She didn't receive a pension since she had never worked. Her older son supported her as he was the wealthiest of her children. My grandmother hated the Soviet power and Stalin. Her first husband was killed in 1922 and her second husband was arrested in 1937 [during the so-called Great Terror] 8 and perished.

My grandmother openly expressed her opinions to me. I was just a child and when I returned home from her place, I told my parents what I had heard from her. My parents grew pale and talked to my grandmother seriously asking her to not discuss such subjects with me.

My grandmother Ida and grandfather Yuli had three children. Their older son Michael was born in 1902. Their second child was a girl. She was born in 1903. Her name is Frieda, and her Jewish name Freida. She shall turn 100 this year. My father was the youngest. He was born in 1906.

Michael Baicher was a very smart and determined man. He completed grammar school. Being a Jew, he had to win a competition to be admitted. He had to write a three-page dictation without a single mistake and he did it. He fit in the [five percent] quota 9 for Jewish students in Russian grammar schools. Later Uncle Michael entered a Mining College. Since he didn't come from a proletarian family [he was considered to belong to the deprives] 10, he was periodically expelled from the Academy, but then he was readmitted again.

My aunt told me that Grandmother asked him, 'Michael, how come they expel and then readmit you again?' and he replied, 'Mama, don't you understand? Those Komsomol 11 members stand up for me. Who would they seek help from in class?'

My uncle was chief engineer of Electropech' trust. He worked a lot. He constructed metallurgical plants in Russia and abroad. He was a laureate of the Lenin Award 12 and was a talented and bright person. Uncle Michael had no children. He died in 1974. He was buried in the Jewish section of Vostriakovskoye cemetery.

Aunt Frieda Baicher - Goldina in marriage - also studied in grammar school. Since grandmother and the director of the grammar school were friends, she was admitted without exams. She failed to finish grammar school due to the revolution that took place in 1917. My aunt was inclined to humanitarian subjects and she painted well. She took painting classes, but the revolution ruined it all. For some time she worked in the All- Union Society of Cultural Ties with Foreign Countries. She was responsible for organizational work.

My aunt knew French. She studied it in grammar school. She also had a good taste. Later she went to work as deputy manager of the fish industry pavilion at the agricultural exhibition. She managed its decoration. She invited the best designers to work there and the pavilion had a great design. I once visited there and remember that they gave me a huge artificial fish.

My aunt's husband, Matvey Goldin, was an engineer in the aviation industry. They had a son named Yuli Goldin, who was born in 1941. He is a wonderful person. He became a doctor and in 1978, he emigrated to the US with his family. He is very successful there.

My father, Arkadi Baicher, whose Jewish name is Aaron, went to work as a stoker at the railroad to support his family after his father died tragically. He became assistant locomotive operator and then an operator. He was the only breadwinner in the family. His brother studied in college and his sister and mother didn't work. He was a hardworking man. He felt responsible for the family and was its support.

When he came of age, he always made all the difficult decisions for the family. He was a vivid and naughty boy and grandmother often punished him. He was a very strong man. I remember that he carried a wardrobe alone when we were moving once. My father joined the Komsomol when working at the railroad. He never joined the Party.

Many years later, when my father was married and had a family of his own, he finished evening classes of the Railroad College with my mother's blessing and support.

My mother was Russian. My maternal grandfather Matvey Dolgov came from a Christian family of Old Believers 13. He was born in 1858 in Klintsy, Bryansk region [475 km from Moscow]. I tracked down eleven generations in Old Believers' church books and found that the first Old Believer arrived in Bryansk region.

He was born in 1684. My great-grandfather and great- grandmother had 20 children. My grandfather was the youngest. He served 20 years in the tsarist army. He took part in the liberation of Bulgaria from the Tatar yoke, and was wounded near Plevna town and released from the army. After the army, my grandfather started business in Moscow. He bought cattle, supplied it to slaughterhouses, and sold meat. My grandfather's marriage with my grandmother Anna Boni was prearranged by matchmakers. Regretfully, he died of tuberculosis in 1905. He was buried in Dragomilovskoye cemetery in Moscow.

My grandmother's father, Antoine Boni, was French. He escaped to Russia during the French Revolution with his son from his first marriage, and he had his savings. He never learned Russian. My grandmother's mother came from the Russian family Prokhorov. It was a renowned family of merchants. They owned textile factories.

After Antoine got married, he built a factory manufacturing albumin for fabric painting. It was a small factory, but it supplied its product to all textile factories in Moscow. There were five children in the family: two sons and three daughters. My grandmother was the youngest. They had different lives.

Maria Boni, one of the sisters, lost her son during World War I. Another sister, Elizaveta Boni, married a German man and must have left the country before World War I. The family lost track of her. The son, Vladimir Boni, inherited the factory. He died in 1916. His children were small when the revolution took place in 1917. The state expropriated the factory, and the children had to hide away. There is no information about what happened to them. Sophia Boni, another sister of my grandmother, had a big family. It seems there were about 14 children. From what I know, Sophia's husband, and all daughters-in-law and sons-in-law were Russian. We became friends with this family.

My grandmother was born in 1868. She completed grammar school. When she got married, she became a housewife in a big family. My grandmother was Christian, but she rarely went to church. She died in 1935 and was buried in Dragomilovskoye cemetery. My grandmother and grandfather had six children.

My mother's older sister, Evgenia Zotova, was born in 1894. Her Russian husband, Alexei Zotov, had a higher military education. He served in the tsarist army and after the revolution he joined the Red Army. They had a son named Michael Zotov. Aunt Evgenia died in 1974.

My mother's brother Nikolay, born in 1904, died of typhoid in the 1920s. There was another son named Dmitri. I remember my uncle Dmitri very well. He graduated from Plekhanov College in Moscow and was a good specialist in chemical treatment of water. He took part in the Great Patriotic War, returned home and died of cancer in 1957.

My grandparents' younger son Vladimir, born in 1906, had an unpleasant character. He drank a lot and had affairs. He left and the family had no information about what happened to him afterward. In 1896 my grandmother's son Sergei was born, but he died in infancy.

My mother was very talented and she performed in the school theatrical club. She completed grammar school in 1916 and received a gold medal [highest award given to graduates of secondary educational institutions in Russia and the USSR]. After the revolution of 1917, my mother entered Moscow State University. However, she didn't study there for long. She had to support her family and it became too difficult for her to combine work and studies. My mother graduated from a theatrical studio and worked as an actress in this studio. Soon this studio merged with the Meyerhold 14 studio. There were different schools of acting. Her former teacher was 'tsar and God' for her, but she didn't understand Meyerhold's teaching. She had an argument with the producer of this studio and left the stage.

She went to work at the Ogonyok editorial office. She was the secretary of its chief editor, Koltsov 15. My mother worked there for a few years and was a good employee. She specialized in photo reviews. Being a smart and enterprising person, she established a bureau selling extra photographs to other editorial offices.

Then she went to work at the photo office of TASS [Telegraph Agency of the Soviet Union] where she worked for the rest of her life. The fact that my mother met such people as V. Meyerhold and M. Koltsov, whom authorities accused of treason and executed, and also her work in TASS, taught her to be very cautious and avoid discussions of political subjects at home or with her friends. She knew about the arrests in the country and tried to protect her dear ones. She wasn't a member of the Communist Party.

My mother lived in a civil marriage before she met my father, but it fell apart. In 1930, she went to a recreation center on vacation. She wasn't in one of her best moods. She was sitting alone reading a book. My father was coming to this recreation center from the railway station. He was a young, handsome and big man. And so they met.

My father kept visiting her after their vacation in the recreation center. My mother had other admirers. However, my father became number one and they got married. My mother was eight years older than my father, but she didn't look it. She was slim and interesting and always dressed well.

My parents' families had no objections against this marriage. My father was a naughty member of the family and my grandmother was glad that he had settled down. My mother's relatives rejected any national prejudices or religious narrow-mindedness. My parents had a small wedding party. My father lived in a room in a communal apartment 16. My mother also lived with her mother in a room in a communal apartment.

Growing up

When my parents got married they exchanged their two rooms for one bigger room in a former elderly people's home that the tsarist government built for merchants' widows. It was a five-storied house. It was a big room with a lot of light and high ceiling where they lived. They had a sink in their room. There was no bathroom in the apartment - families went to a public bathroom to wash. There were two toilets with four cabins on each floor. There was an elevator at the front door entrance.

On the ground floor there was a public Laundromat which was very convenient. On the first floor there was a common kitchen. There were stoves in the kitchen. Housewives prepared everything for cooking in their rooms and then did the cooking in the kitchen. Stoves were stoked with fuel oil all day long. In the evening, a boiler was turned on and tenants stood in lines for boiling water. There was a dry steam drier and washbasins for washing and rinsing. There was also another drier in the attic. I was born in this house in 1932 and grew up there.

When my mother was expecting a baby, she told my father that if it was going to be a boy she was against circumcision. My father replied, 'All right, and if it's a girl we won't baptize her.' So, I wasn't baptized. My parents loved each other dearly regardless of their differences: in age, nationality and intellect.

Family was everything for my father, and my mother found support and a faithful companion in him. The brightest memories of my childhood are associated with the time when my parents took me to a dacha 17 in summer. They rented a dacha out of town and took me there, every summer.

I didn't go to a kindergarten. I had a baby sitter who was a Russian girl from a village named Marfusha. She lived with us until the end of her life. My mother sent her to school. She completed secondary school. I have very good memories of her, as she always took care of me.

She evacuated with us and thanks to her skills and wit, we survived through the first days. Here is what my days in my childhood were like. I never went into the yard alone. I had friends who were our neighbors and they used to come to play with dolls, as I had many in our room. Sometimes my nanny and I went shopping. In the evening, when she had to go to school, she took me to the adjoining street where my mother's brother's family lived or to my grandmother.

My parents worked a lot and my father studied in the evening classes of the College of Railroad Transport Engineers. However, they always celebrated family holidays and birthdays. My mother and father's relatives joined us for these celebrations. My father's brother, Michael, often went on business trips and was an infrequent guest in our house. We often visited my paternal grandmother since she loved guests.

My mother worked near Grandmother's home and often went to see her. She usually had lunch there. My mother and her mother-in-law got along very well and there were no misunderstandings between them. My mother grew up in the family with no national prejudices. She did what their family had failed to do: she made my father study. My grandmother respected her very much.

The events of 1937 [Great Terror] had an effect on our family. My grandmother's second husband was arrested and never returned from the camps. We knew that something was going on, but there was no information about it. My parents were afraid of talking and I was too young to understand the situation.

During the war

I remember the first day of the war very well. On 22nd June 1941 my parents and I went out of town to look for a dacha for rent. We went to the railway station by tram when my parents heard somebody saying that the war had begun. It was around 11am.

We returned home, turned on the radio and listened to the speech by Molotov 18. I understood that the war had begun and that it was very serious and that there was a lot to happen. Before this we had a feeling that something might happen. We lived in a quiet district, but on the first days of the war there were activities going on.

People barricaded windows on ground floors with bags of sand. Some workers began to excavate a pond in the schoolyard across the street from our house. It was to be a firewater reservoir. Instructors explained to tenants about air raids and where to hide in case of emergency.

We closed the windows and glued newspaper sheets on glass to prevent splinters from falling. Children helped adults with whatever they could do. There were rooms with tenants in the basement where we could come with our chairs in case of an emergency alarm. We also made a black-out with black curtains on the windows. I remember the first training alarm.

When we came outside to go to the basement I sensed some smell in the street, something different, a disturbing smell. We went into the basement with this sense of alarm. I put some of my clothing either upside down or forgot to put it on, something like that.

On 10th July, my nanny, grandmother and I, evacuated to Ufa [1,300 km from Moscow]. We evacuated with the aviation plant where my father's sister's husband, Matvey Goldin, was working. My nanny didn't want to leave Moscow, but my mother worked and couldn't leave her job since TASS was staying.

My grandmother had liver problems and hypertension and so my mother couldn't let me go with grandmother. It took my mother quite some effort to convince my nanny to go with us. When we were approaching Ufa our train was delayed. It turned out that there were too many old people and children in our car. They couldn't work at the plant. They sorted out all passengers and those who could work went to Ufa and the rest of us were taken 25 kilometers south.

It was a small station and we actually got off in a field. There was a steppe, sun and heat. Then there came horse-drawn wagons from a village on the bank of the Belaya River. It was a Tatar village named Starye Kieshki. We were accommodated in huts.

A Tatar hut is a big room with a stove and plank beds with mattresses, pillows and blankets. The owners of the hut where we lodged didn't speak Russian. They knew a few words sufficient enough to agree about payment for the milk they provided. They just didn't understand that there were Jews among the newcomers. We stayed one night in this hut. There were many bugs and I remember that my grandmother stayed awake picking those bugs off me.

On the following morning my grandmother, who wasn't that old, put lipstick on her lips - she was coquettish - and went to look around. She discovered some buildings in the schoolyard that formerly served as classrooms. It was summer and the school was closed. She talked to the director and obtained permission for us to move into a classroom. We slept on laboratory desks. When school started in fall we continued living there. In the evening we put the desks together to sleep on them and in the morning before classes we put them in place and put our things into a closet.

My grandmother had some money, and my nanny went to work in the kolkhoz 19. We were very poor. Nanny came from a village and was very hard- working. Her earnings and our small vegetable garden - which was in the field and received from the kolkhoz - saved us from hunger. My nanny and grandmother grew vegetables.

My grandmother was not a gardener. They both planted onions which grew only in Marfusha's part of the garden. My grandmother got angry, 'you cheated me, and I did something wrong!' It turned out she planted her onions with their roots upward. The onions grew all right in the long run. We bought potatoes and milk from a store in the village.

When there was a delivery of vodka, enterprising villagers stood in line to buy vodka that they could exchange for fish from 16-year-old boys. My grandmother also had some cereals, but they didn't last long. Anyway, my grandmother tried to observe the kashrut. She didn't eat pork. Tatars don't eat pork either, they eat lamb. There was no synagogue.

I'm not sure, but I don't think my grandmother could observe Sabbath considering the hardships in our lives. I became very sad on the first day of fall when the school opened its doors for schoolchildren. I was eager to go to school, but in this village everything was in the Tatar language. I made friends with the children of the director of the school. They were two girls, almost the same age as I. I began to understand some Tatar. I wanted to go to school, but they didn't admit me.

My mother arrived in fall 1941. She evacuated to Kuibyshev [920 km from Moscow] with her TASS agency. She wrote letters to me and sent them to Starye Kieshki from there. She missed me a lot and worried about me, but later she obtained permission from her director to go to work as a TASS correspondent in Bashkiria. She didn't receive a salary and father sent us his certificate [issued to officers in the army for their families to receive money allowances].

We exchanged clothes for food. My mother talked to the director of our school in the village and he agreed to admit me. I was supposed to go to the first grade, but they admitted me to the second grade. I could count well. They didn't force me to speak the Tatar language. I just spoke what I could. I studied there until I became unwell and had to stay home. Next year I went to the same grade. In 1943 I managed to get to the third grade and studied there for some time.

In 1942, my nanny drowned. It was a hot summer and we went to swim in the river. There was still high water in the Belaya River and we found a pit filled with water. The water was very cold and Marfusha had an infarction.

She died that very moment. There was quite a story with her funeral. There was a Muslim cemetery and they didn't allow burying Christians there. They even discussed it at the kolkhoz council. They finally allowed us to bury her near the fence. Of course, her death was a terrible shock and catastrophe for us.

Later in the same year my father's sister Frieda and her son Yuli came to visit us. Her husband Matvey Goldin worked at a plant in Ufa. He lived in a hostel and wasn't allowed to accommodate her and their son in his room. My father at that time was finishing military school in Orenburg [1,400 km from Moscow].

Once he got leave, he came to visit us. After he left, my mother became awfully concerned since at that time military actions were approaching Stalingrad [920 km from Moscow] and my father might have needed to go there.

Some time later we began to receive children's books from my father. We didn't have the slightest idea what it could be until one day I opened a book and saw 'I am in MPR' written in the book. We understood that he was in the Mongolian People's Republic. There was training in his school.

They were to cover 40 kilometers of the Orenburg steppe in full marching order and my father got sunstroke. He was taken to hospital. It so happened that other cadets of his school were taken to Stalingrad, and my father was sent to the construction of a railroad in Mongolia since he had railroad education. He served there until 1944.

In November 1942 my uncle received a room in Ufa and my aunt, her son and my grandmother went to live with him. My mother and I lived with a Tatar family in their pise-walled hut near the school. They gave us a small room which had a separate entrance.

There was an outside toilet. We fetched water from a well in the yard, but this dwelling was still better than living in school. It was warm and we didn't have to leave it for a day like we did when lodging at the school. My mother and I were starving. My mother fell ill with tuberculosis.

My father's allowances were not enough. We grew potatoes and then had to pick them. My mother was too weak and at some point she sat on the ground and began to cry. She had lost over 30 kilos in weight since she fell ill. When my maternal grandmother saw her in Moscow after we returned home she said, 'You look like you've come from Majdanek 20. Skin and bones.'

There was a Russian family from Rybinsk living next door. It was a woman and two children. The woman's name was Evdokia Ivanovna. Her husband worked at the aviation plant that was evacuated to Ufa. He lived in a hostel and she couldn't live with him. This woman was very poor. She could hardly support her two boys. She left her children with us when she went to visit her husband in Ufa. My mother invited Evdokia Ivanovna to live with us. We got along well and had a quiet life. At that time my grandmother was still staying with her daughter Frieda in Ufa.

In the summer of 1943 my mother received an invitation letter from the TASS agency in Moscow. We had to get to the railway station somehow. Evdokia Ivanovna went with us leaving her boys with another woman. There was a huge crowd at the railway station. All trains that passed by the station were overcrowded.

We stayed at the railway station for three days. My mother took me to a children's room to sleep at night, and she and Evdokia Ivanovna had to watch their line to get tickets. We finally got onto a train. My mother had to be in Moscow on time and we hardly managed. We arrived home at 5 in the morning.

My mother's sister Zhenia lived a few blocks away from us. To get there I had to cross two big streets. As soon as we came home my mother sent me to her sister and left for work. I was afraid of going there alone. When my aunt opened her door she gasped: it was only 7 o'clock in the morning; they had just got up when I showed up. We were so happy to be back in Moscow and find out that everything was fine with our home.

My mother began to make arrangements for me to go to school. I had studied in a Tatar school, but teachers in Moscow didn't care and refused to admit me to the third grade. I began to cry and the teacher softened a little and said, 'all right, girl, it's going to be the second grade.' I said, 'No, I don't want to go to the second grade!' I was so concerned about being the oldest in my class.

She said, 'All right, we admit you to the third grade on condition that based on the results of the first quarters [an academic year in USSR consists of four quarters and after each quarter students get their quarter marks] we shall decide whether you stay or go to the second grade.'

I didn't argue this time. However, I fell ill with angina. We were thin and exhausted and there were no vitamins. I returned to school one week before the end of the first quarter. I remember very well that we had a test in mathematics. I received an excellent mark for it and the issue of my staying in the third grade was closed.

I liked mathematics and wanted to become a teacher of mathematics. I only had one '4' mark in the Russian language and all '5' marks for the rest of the subjects. Well, there were few things where I didn't excel. I was a fatty and never went in for sports, but I liked dancing and always attended dancing classes.

I had many friends at school, in our house and in my mother's sister's family. My neighbors had two daughters of my age. We became friends before the evacuation. I joined the Komsomol at school. I was eager to become a Komsomol member. I lied to the commission when they asked me how old I was. The admission age was 14 and I said that I was, though I was under 14 at that time. I didn't take an active part in the Komsomol activities, but I believed in communist ideas, so strong was propaganda at the time.

By the end of the war construction of the Moscow metro began. My father, when he was young, worked at the construction of one of the first metro stations, and he was demobilized and employed by a metro company. In April 1944, we received a telegram saying: 'Meet me.' My mother thought he was going to another front and when we met him in Moscow she asked, 'Where?' and he replied, 'To Moscow.' We were so happy!

Post-war

My father became a boiler engineer in the metro construction department. In 1947, when the struggle against rootless cosmopolitans [see campaign against cosmopolitans] 21 began he was fired. He looked for a job in Moscow for eight months. He understood that this was a national segregation campaign, but there was nothing that could be done.

Besides his national origin, my father had another 'deficiency.' He didn't have a proletarian origin. I remember one funny incident. My father wrote in his application form that his father was a wagon driver. I was horrified and asked him, 'Do you mean to say that my grandmother's husband was a wagon driver?' and he replied, 'You just keep your mouth shut.

' Shortly afterward I understood why my father wrote that his father was a driver. In this country drivers' children had a much easier life than educated people. We had a difficult life. My mother was the only breadwinner. Eight months later my father got a job in a boiler inspection company.

I didn't face any anti-Semitism at school. We had many Jewish teachers. I faced this later in my life. I finished school with a silver medal. I wanted to become a teacher of mathematics, but I had to face reality. I submitted my documents to Moscow University and went for the entrance interview 22.

They talked with me for over two hours. The temperature was 37 degrees, it was hot and I was wearing a woolen suit since this was the best outfit I had. I was almost dying of the heat. Then I got to know that I wasn't admitted. Everything in life became very gloomy.

Well, I pulled myself together and submitted my documents to the Mechanical Mathematic College. They rejected me. In the Bauman Higher Technical College they told me that admission was completed, although entrance exams hadn't started yet. They said there was only the Coal Mine Faculty left and I said I didn't mind studying at this faculty. They looked at me in amazement. I put them in a difficult position.

As a result, they rejected me there as well. My friend who was aware of my problems advised me to go to the Irrigation and Drainage College - now it's called Water Engineering College. I went there with my mother. The document submittal deadline was three days later. I showed the admission commission my school certificate and my silver medal and they admitted me.

When I became a student I understood that there were specific young people studying in our college. It was shortly before Stalin approved the nature transformation plan in 1951. It included drainage of swamp areas and irrigation of arid regions. Our college increased admission and cancelled any admission quotas. Our students were Jewish graduates with gold medals that failed to enter any other Moscow college.

It was a golden admission of talented young people. Many years later my fellow student once replied to my question of what made him choose this college, 'I knew that this was the only college that I could enter. I am a Jew and my father had been arrested.'

Our student life was delightful regardless of the hard practical and topographical trainings. I didn't like field work and heat. I remember how hard it was in Novgorod region: swamps, mosquitoes, heavy rubber boots and heavy equipment. I was afraid of swamps. I even felt like quitting this college, but my mother forbade me to do this. I managed to stay to the end of that training.

Our second training in Latvia was much easier and nicer. It was like a resort there. We went to swim and lay in the sun. Our local managers sent us to do work that wasn't too hard. We also had nice practical training that was full of fun. It was difficult, but enjoyable. However tired we got we danced and had fun until 2 o'clock in the morning. It was fabulous.

All graduates became good specialists and always recalled their teachers with gratitude. We were so close that we still get together every five years. Our former co-students arrive from all over the country and from abroad when they can.

We went to parades on Soviet holidays. It wasn't openly mandatory, but the public was aware of attendance of parades. Besides, we were young and there was music, dances and songs. It was a lot of fun. There were foreign students among us. One of them was Romanian. He once said it was his third year in Moscow, but he hadn't seen Stalin once. I told him he should walk with me, because even if Stalin wasn't on the stand during a parade he sure would make an appearance when I was walking across the Red Square. And it did happen. Stalin presented himself when we came to the Red Square. I shall never forget how delighted this Romanian student was. He said, 'I will write home today. I've seen Stalin!' I wasn't as excited as he.

I remember the Doctors' Plot 23 well. My uncle Matvey Goldin, Aunt Frieda's husband, had a sister. Her husband, Frumkin, was a professor of medicine. He was a renowned urologist and worked in the Botkin hospital. He wasn't arrested only because he had an infarction and was having treatment at his hospital. When officers came for him, the doctor on duty told them that in his condition, Professor Frumkin wouldn't manage the journey.

A friend of mine studied at the Medical College. This friend was Russian and seemed to be anti-Semitic to an extent. We once discussed a recent arrest of great doctors. He said to me, 'You know, there are almost no lecturers left' - meaning that Jewish lecturers were the best and when there was none of them left the remaining lecturers couldn't compete with them in professional skills. We didn't discuss those subjects at home. My mother taught me to say nothing about politics much too well. There is another story that I remember.

My co-student brought an issue of the Pravda newspaper [lit. Truth, a popular daily newspaper with multimillion circulation, the central organ of the Communist Party] to college, where an article about 'murderers in white robes' was published. I read it and said, 'How horrible!' She looked at me as if I were an idiot and whispered, 'Do you believe it?' I was horrified to hear that Pravda was not trustworthy.

Then Stalin died in 1953. My grandmother didn't like him and she didn't make a secret of it. I cannot say that I liked him that much, but intense propaganda imposed love of him onto people. When Stalin died we had a meeting in our college. Many girls were crying, but I didn't feel like crying. I understood that this was an epoch-making event.

After classes we were planning to go to the Kolonnyi Hall where the casket with his body was. Nobody forced us to go there, but we walked to the place. We walked together trying to find the end of line to his casket, but then we lost each other in the crowd. All of a sudden there was a jam and I got scared. I got out of the crowd and returned home.

Aunt Frieda Goldina lived near the Kolonnyi Hall where the casket with Stalin was. She told me later that she said to herself, 'I shall not calm down until I see him in the casket.' She went there across backdoors and roofs until she got to an entrance where she was allowed to go in. Our family began to discuss political subjects a long time after Stalin died.

I finished college and was waiting for my [mandatory] job assignment 24. I wanted to work in Rosgiprovodkhoz: irrigation and drainage system design institute doing work in Russia. I had practical training in this institute. They offered me a job in its Minsk affiliate. I didn't want to lose my permission for a residence permit 25 in Moscow. Then I got another offer to go to Tuva expedition of Rosgiprovodkhoz to the town of Kyzyl [3720 km from Moscow]. It was just a business trip and I signed for this job assignment. My co-student went there with me. It was a long trip. We learned many new things that we didn't know living in Moscow.

Once on a train we met a German [colonist] 26 family, deported to Siberia by Stalin during World War II. Only in 1956, they were allowed to visit their ancestors' graves in Engels [880 km from Moscow]. They told us how they were suppressed for many years and I thought it was terrible that people weren't allowed to visit their ancestors' graves.

We did design work. The climate was severe. Winter lasted five months and temperatures dropped to minus 60 degrees ?elsius. It was freezing outside. I was the only one in the town who didn't wear woolen boots. It was a strange climate. You go outside and find yourself in a thick fog and you feel like you're walking in milk without seeing the road.

Cars drive with their lights and horns on. The town is surrounded by the Sayan Mountain range. I had never seen more beautiful nature before. It turned out that except me and my co-student, all other employees were either convicts or members of their family. They were people with interesting and complicated life stories though they were nice people.

A year later I was assigned to work in Moscow. I went to work in Rosgiprovodkhoz. I worked successfully there for one-and-a-half or two months when I was fired all of a sudden. The children of higher officials had graduated from colleges and needed jobs. Besides, my last name was added to the list of unreliable employees - Jews.

I was fired regardless of the mandatory three-year term of postgraduate assignment. I couldn't find a job for a long time. I went to many companies and they all refused to hire me. It was all because of my surname and Semitic appearance. A long while later I got a job at the Giprostesneft' Institute designing potable and industrial water supply for the oil industry.

I worked there for 33 years until I retired. I went on interesting business trips and had an interesting and multifarious job. I liked my work. From engineer I was promoted to project chief engineer. I was the leader of a group and worked independently, but I never went on trips abroad.

I lived in one room with my parents until 1964. I turned 30 and wanted to live separately. I got an opportunity to buy a one-bedroom cooperative apartment. In 1968, I finished a two-year course in English at the College of Foreign Languages. I wasn't a member of the Party. This fact and my Jewish identity didn't allow me to get a job anywhere abroad. The secretary of our party unit didn't approve a letter of recommendation for me for traveling abroad. He was an anti-Semite. Everybody at work knew I was a Jew. I didn't consider changing my surname. My father was a Jew and it would have hurt him if I had changed my name. Besides, I didn't want to deny my Jewish identity. My husband Yuzef Kirtzer was also a Jew.

My colleague introduced me to my future husband. He was her distant relative. She gave him my telephone number. He called me, we met and liked each other. He then proposed to me. We got married in 1965; there was no wedding party. We just went for a walk and when we were going past a registry office we dropped in and registered our marriage. We started our family life in my apartment.

My husband was born in Dnepropetrovsk [800 km from Moscow] in Ukraine. He finished lower secondary school and entered an art school. He was good at drawing. His family was of moderate wealth. They lived in a small two- bedroom apartment in the center of the city. My husband's father, Michael Kirtzer, worked in a cultural center. He was a cheerful and joyful man. He had a big sense of humor and everybody liked him. He was hardworking and reliable. His mother, Mariasa Kirtzer, sewed at home. She had a difficult and tragic life. At the beginning of the century she witnessed a Jewish pogrom in Ukraine 27.

A Ukrainian family gave shelter to her, but she could hear how people were killed behind the wall. It affected her psyche and never passed. They also had a younger daughter named Sonia. She was three years younger than my husband. She was good at music and had a good voice, but regretfully, her family couldn't afford to give her education and her gift had no further development. She took part in amateur concerts where she sang. Later, she worked as a medical statistics operator in a children's polyclinic.

When the Great Patriotic War began my husband was mobilized to the army. He was a 2nd-year student at that time. He went to a military infantry school in Vladikavkaz. Then he was commanding officer of an infantry platoon near Stalingrad and chief of battalion headquarters at the southwestern front.

He was severely wounded in his head near Dnepropetrovsk. He lost an eye and was taken to hospital. After he was released from hospital, he went to serve in a district military registry office in Novosibirsk [2,800 km from Moscow, in the north of Russia]. He was demobilized in January 1946.

At that time, his family was living in Moscow. His father received a room in a barrack and his family got together in his room. They didn't have much money, but they decided to support their son and help him get a higher education.

Yuzef graduated from the Leningrad Industrial-Art High School very successfully. After finishing his college he did contractual jobs as it was difficult to find a permanent job. Then he went to work as a teacher of an art subject in the Theatrical Art School. He worked in this school until he retired in 1990.

Then he worked at the department of art of the Moscow Pedagogical College. At that time his textbook in drawing for secondary and special educational institutions was published. It's still very popular. Besides, he did creative work for students' performances. He was a talented and extraordinary man and he had such a difficult life. He lost his eye, but he got education and became a specialist. It required courage and strong will. He was very sociable and had many friends.

Before we got married he came to visit my family, but he didn't invite me to his home. He was ashamed of his poor household. After we got married he liked to have guests. We had an open house and there were always guests. My co-students came and he invited artists and students. We had guests on holidays and particularly many guests on Victory Day 28. We always celebrated holidays, but Victory Day was a holy day.

My husband participated in the veterans' movement. They had meetings on 9th May, Victory Day. I went to these meetings with him. I still attend these meetings, though many veterans and my husband are gone. The children of the veterans and I go to the meetings.

My husband's attitude to Jewish subjects was one of love and great interest. He was interested in the Jewish culture and history, but he wasn't religious and we didn't observe Jewish traditions at home. He couldn't stand anti-Semites and could even give a physical response to their demonstrations. But still, he was a man of the Russian culture.

Many of his relatives moved to Israel. We corresponded with them. He never considered emigration as he valued his profession and his place in this profession. Once we talked about departure. My cousin brother, Yuri Goldin, emigrated to America in the 1970s and spoke to us about moving there with him. My husband said he would have no objections if I decided to go there, but that he would stay.

Our son was born on 8th March 1966. Of course, it was a big joy. My husband was delighted: A son! We named him Michael after his grandfather, my husband's father, who didn't live to the day. My mother helped me a lot. She came to stay with my son every day when I went to work. He was raised at home in his first years of life and then he went to a kindergarten.

In 1968 we moved to another apartment. We exchanged my husband's and my apartment for a two-bedroom apartment near my parents' apartment, and my mother could come to stay with our son. My son was a terrible pupil at school. He didn't like school and received only '3' marks.

He left school after finishing the eighth grade. He entered a medical school. I remember all my suffering at parents' meetings at school where they always reprimanded my son for poor results, and I told my husband that it was his turn to attend parents' meetings at the medical school since I had fulfilled my duty at school meetings. It happened so that he couldn't make it for a meeting when our son was a 2nd-year student and I had to go. I was shocked when my son's teacher spoke praises of my son.

She said he had logical thinking, medical biological thinking and he had talents and that he would make it to medical college. My son was a devoted student. When they had practical training, working in an ambulance, all other students finished at 6pm and I called the ambulance at 2 in the morning and they told me that my son went on calls. He was ready to work there round the clock.

After graduating from this school he went to work at the ambulance. Then he went to serve in the army. He served in a construction battalion. It was difficult there. They did hard work and didn't get sufficient food. As a result, my son got into hospital. I went there to talk to the doctor, and he told me that he was surprised that my son was in the army at all.

In his military identity card it was written that he was only fit for military service during wartime. We involved my husband's acquaintances and managed to arrange for my son's transfer to a different unit. He served in a medical unit there and had an opportunity to learn.

After he returned from the army he resumed his work at the ambulance. My son is a very active person. He went to where emergencies happened: earthquakes in Georgia, Iran, and to the locations where blood-shedding conflicts occurred. There was an initiative group formed in the government of Russia and he had a doctor's position there.

In 1993, my son married a Russian girl. His wife, Anastasia Levashova, graduated from two colleges: the Mining College, where she got the profession of systems analyst, and Law College. She works for a private company. They have two daughters: Anastasia, born in 1999, and Evdokia, born in 2001. They live nearby. My son finished evening classes of the medical college in 1995. He is a children's doctor. Then he finished residency, and now he works at the Kommersant commercial house as a family doctor.

We didn't raise our son in the spirit of Jewish traditions as we didn't observe any. My son became interested in the history of the Jewish people in his teens. He had many Jewish friends at school. They went to the synagogue on Jewish holidays. Periodically, he talked of moving to Israel or America, but then he thought otherwise when in the 1990s perestroika 29 began and he decided that life would be interesting here. My son identifies himself as a Jew, though he doesn't observe traditions or holidays.

My father worked a lot in various boiler inspection companies. He dealt in fuel saving issues and frequently went on business trips. He was a strong, healthy man. Once in 1976, he felt ill and was taken to hospital. The doctor said that his condition was too severe.

In 1974, my father's brother Michael died. He was three years older than my father. My father said then that he would die three years later. It did happen. In 1977 he died at home of an infarction. He had turned 71. My father told us to cremate him when he died. He was big and heavy and it would be hard to carry the casket. He always cared about us and tried to save us from troubles.

His sister and her husband and our relatives came to the funeral. We buried him in Kalitnikovskoye cemetery where my mother's relatives were buried. It was a town cemetery, and we didn't observe any Jewish customs at the funeral. My mother was old and had hearing problems, but it took some time before she agreed to move in with us.

In 1978, we exchanged our two apartments for this one. She died of an infarction in 1984. My son was working in the ambulance. He made artificial respiration, but it didn't work. We buried her in Kalitnikovskoye cemetery near my father's grave.

I retired in 1992. I always wanted to be a teacher. I decided to implement this after I retired and went to work as a teacher of geography at a school. I received a very low salary since I didn't have previous experience, but I liked this job. I had training and studied at the Teachers' Advanced Training College.

I worked at school from 1993 till 1999. After six years of work I understood that it was good that I hadn't become a teacher. There are many negative things in our educational system. There is a lot of tension at school, suppression of free development of personality - I didn't like it. I also taught the history and geography of Moscow. I like Moscow very much. I studied its history. It is also the history of my family.

On Saturdays I went on city tours with the schoolchildren and their parents. I remember one episode. I showed my pupils a school in the center of Moscow. There is a monument for the boys who perished during World War II in front of this school.

My pupils were surprised to see so many Jewish names engraved on the monument. They asked, 'Were Jews at the front as well?' - There were rumors spread in Moscow in the first years after the war that there were no Jews at the front. I believe they were spread by relevant authorities. I think that one of the biggest accomplishments of my pedagogical activities was the extraction of anti-Semitic ideas from my pupils' heads.

Our family was very enthusiastic about perestroika that began when Gorbachev 30 came to power. His personality inspired hope. He had a university degree and was a relatively young man. In 1986, my father's sister Frieda told me that she became weak in her knees after she heard on the radio that it was allowed to meet with relatives from abroad.

Her only son Yuli had emigrated to America in 1978. A year later she visited her son. What impressed me at the beginning of perestroika was that we could watch the films that we could never believe we would ever be allowed to see.

The first shock for me was the film by Abuladze titled Repentance [film by renowned Soviet producer Tenghiz Abuladze (1924-1994); the first film in cinematography that denounced the cult of Stalin.] We often went to unforgettable meetings in the House of Actors. There was an interesting meeting with a writer whose last name was Klimov.

He was arrested before the war and rehabilitated right after Stalin died. He said, 'I get an impression that the same people arrested, interrogated, put to court and rehabilitated us.'

My husband's Jewish friends Ilia Lempert and David Silis, talented sculptors, opened their personal exhibition in Moscow for the first time. At the opening ceremony, a wonderful children's book writer, Yuriy Koval, said, 'Would it ever have occurred to us that they would allow the display of works rejected by the party press?'

Broadcasting of meetings of the Supreme Soviet of the USSR made a great impression on us. We had never seen anything like that. Every word of Academician Sakharov 31 inspired hopes and his sudden death was a terrible shock. The loss of this man who we believed was the conscience of the nation was irreplaceable.

There were other events, for example in the institute where I worked. We used to be given standard scopes of work and maximum three percent over this scope was allowed to be completed. Now we have no restrictions. We worked a lot hoping to receive more money for our work. However, nobody intended to pay us money.

The Prime Minister issued an order limiting the amount of salaries that enabled directors of enterprises to use this money to their discretion. As a result, our director became a co-founder of a bank. Then they began to sell the assets of our institute. They sold a logistics base of the research department. Our managers were building dachas and buying cars. They began to fire employees. I was one of the first to be forced to quit due to my independent thinking.

I also spent three days in August 1991 near the White House during the Putsch [see 1991 Moscow coup d'etat] 32. I missed work since I believed it to be my duty to protect young Russian democracy. The radio announced gratitude to all participants of this event and there was an order to pay for these three days as working days, but my management didn't approve of it.

By this time my husband got diabetes. He always took care of his health, but diabetes weakened him and his first infarction became the last one. This happened at home. He fell ill at night. We should have called our son, but my husband didn't allow me to. In the morning I called my son, he made a cardiogram that showed an infarction.

My son helped his father get into a good hospital. He was taken to reanimation. He died a day later. When he died, we began to think how we should bury him. He used to tell me that he wanted to be buried, but his father and mother were cremated and their cinerary urns were in the crematorium. I was thinking of burying him in Kalitnikovskoye cemetery near the graves of my parents. My husband's sister didn't agree to bury my husband in this Christian cemetery.

She recommended that we bury Yuzef near grandmother and Uncle Michael's graves in the Jewish section of Vostriakovskoye cemetery. We buried him there and his friends made a beautiful gravestone. No Jewish traditions were observed.

I am a pensioner now. The pension that I receive is about 70 USD. It would not be enough for a decent living. I have another source of income. There were two sisters living in the next-door apartment. They didn't have any close relatives. When they grew older and became ill I attended to them and they left their apartment to me. I lease it and have some additional money from the rent.

Not based on halakhah, but based on my senses, I identify myself as Jew, although my mother is Russian and I am a person of the Russian culture. Thus, my father, his mother, my grandmother, my husband and son, my dear ones are Jews and I am with them. Besides, due to my Jewish looks I had to face many bitter moments in my life. The system pushed me into the embrace of the Jewish people and I lived through humiliation and suppression with them.

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 Russian-Turkish War

the war between Russia and Turkey in 1877-1878. The Russian army won a victory near Plevna town and liberated Bulgaria from the Turkish yoke.

3 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 WWI, 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.

4 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

5 Great Patriotic War

6 NKVD

People's Committee of Internal Affairs; it took over from the GPU, the state security agency, in 1934.

7 Mikhoels, Solomon (1890-1948) (real name Vovsi)

Great Soviet actor, producer, 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

8 Great Terror (1934-1938)

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

9 Five percent quota

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

10 Deprives

After the revolution of 1917 people that had at least minor private property (owned small stores or shops) or small businesses were deprived of their property and were commonly called 'deprivees' [derived from Russian 'deprive'].

Between 1917 middle of 1930s this part of population was deprived of civil rights and their children were not allowed to study in higher educational institutions. Communists declared themselves to protect the interests of the oppressed working class and peasants and only representatives of these classes enjoyed all civil rights.

11 Komsomol

12 Lenin Award

highest award in the USSR for accomplishments in the field of science, engineering, literature, art and architecture. Established in 1925; was awarded before 1991.

13 Old Believers

As their name suggests, all of them rejected the reformed service books, which Patriarch Nikon introduced in the 1650s and preserved pre-Nikonian liturgical practices in as complete a form as canonical regulations permitted. For some Old Believers, the defense of the old liturgy and traditional culture was a matter of primary importance; for all, the old ritual was at least a badge of identification and a unifying slogan.

The Old Believers were united in their hostility toward the Russian state, which supported the Nikonian reforms and persecuted those who, under the banner of the old faith, opposed the new order in the church and the secular administration.

To be sure, the intensity of their hostility and the language and gestures with which they expressed it varied as widely as their social background and their devotional practices. Nevertheless, when the government applied pressure to one section of the movement, all of its adherents instinctively drew together and extended to their beleaguered brethren whatever help they could.

14 Meyerhold, Vsevolod (1874-1940)

Russian theater director. In 1920, he was appointed head of the theater division of the People's Commissariat for Education. In the early communist years, Meyerhold staged many notable productions. Beginning in 1923, Meyerhold had his own troupe in Moscow, and staged innovative productions of both classics and modern works.

By the mid- 1930s, Meyerhold's relentless experimentation was no longer in favor. His theater was harshly criticized and then closed in 1938. Meyerhold himself was arrested in 1939 and shot in prison in 1940.

15 Koltsov Michail (1898-1942?)

Born Friedland, Soviet publicist and public activist. Chief Editor of the popular magazines 'Ogonyok,' 'Krokodil,' 'Za rubezhom' and member of the editorial staff of Pravda, the major Soviet Daily.

From 1936-1938 he participated in the Civil War in Spain as correspondent of Pravda, was political counselor at the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Spain, had direct contacts with Stalin. Arrested in 1938; perished in prison.

16 Communal apartments

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 shared apartments continued to exist for decades. Despite state programs for the construction of more houses and the liquidation of shared apartments, which began in the 1960s, shared apartments still exist today.

17 Dacha

country house, consisting of small huts and little plots of lands. The Soviet authorities came to the decision to allow this activity to the Soviet people to support themselves. The majority of urban citizens grow vegetables and fruit in their small gardens to make preserves for winter.

18 Molotov, V

19 Kolkhoz

20 Majdanek concentration camp

situated five kilometers from the city center of Lublin, Poland, originally established as a labor camp in October 1941. It was officially called Prisoner of War Camp of the Waffen-SS Lublin until 16th February 1943, when the name was changed to Concentration Camp of the Waffen-SS Lublin. Unlike most other Nazi death camps, Majdanek, located in a completely open field, was not hidden from view. About 130,000 Jews were deported there during 1942-43 as part of the 'Final Solution'.

Initially there were two gas chambers housed in a wooden building, which were later replaced by gas chambers in a brick building. The estimated number of deaths is 360,000, including Jews, Soviets POWs and Poles. The camp was liquidated in July 1944, but by the time the Red Army arrived the camp was only partially destroyed.

Although approximately 1,000 inmates were executed on a death march, the Red Army found thousand of prisoners still in the camp, an evidence of the mass murder that had occurred in Majdanek.

21 Campaign against 'cosmopolitans'

22 Entrance interview

graduates of secondary schools awarded silver or gold medals (cf: graduates with honors in the U.S.) were released from standard oral or written entrance exams to the university and could be admitted on the basis of a semi-formal interview with the admission committee. This system exists in state universities in Russia and most of the successor states up to this day.

23 Doctors' Plot

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.

24 Mandatory job assignment in the USSR

25 Residence permit

The Soviet authorities restricted freedom of travel within the USSR through the residence permit and kept everybody's whereabouts under control. Every individual in the USSR needed residential registration; this was a stamp in the passport giving the permanent address of the individual. It was impossible to find a job, or even to travel within the country, without such a stamp. In order to register at somebody else's apartment one had to be a close relative and if each resident of the apartment had at least 8 square meters to themselves.

26 German colonists/colony

Ancestors of German peasants, who were invited by Empress Catherine II in the 18th century to settle in Russia.

27 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.

28 Victory Day in Russia (9th May)

National holiday to commemorate the defeat of Nazi Germany and the end of World War II and honor the Soviets who died in the war.

29 Perestroika (Russian for restructuring)

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.

30 Gorbachev, Mikhail (1931-)

31 Sakharov, Andrey (1921-1989) was a Soviet physicist who became, in the words of the Nobel Peace Committee, a spokesman for the conscience of mankind

Physicist, academician of the AS USSR since 1953, father of the Soviet Union hydrogen bomb, three times hero of socialist labor.

In early 1960s and early 1970s he was the leader of fighters for human rights. He was an outspoken advocate of human rights, civil liberties, and reform in the Soviet Union. Winner of the 1975 Nobel Prize in Peace. Because of his political activities, he was exiled to Gorkiy in 1980. Sakharov was permitted to return to Moscow in December 1986. Elected to the new Congress of People's Deputies in April 1989, he remained a leading spokesman for human rights and political and economic reform until his death on December 14, 1989.

32 1991 Moscow coup d'etat

Starting spontaniously 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.

Theodore Magder

Theodore Magder
Kishinev
Moldova
Interviewer: Zhanna Litinskaya
Date of interview: July 2004

I heard about Theodore Magder in the Jewish library of Kishinev. He was said to be an interesting conversationalist, but a rather difficult and very busy man. The people at the library assured me that he would never agree to an interview. I was thus surprised that it didn't take me long to make an appointment with Mr. Magder, though he mentioned that he was available for 30 minutes maximum at the Jewish community center that he heads. Theodore Magder is an old, thin, hunched man. He met me in his office. He wore a snow-white shirt and a suit despite the heat. Our meeting happened to be longer than expected. Mr. Magder agreed to give me an interview and we met two more times. Being a really intelligent man, well-raised and well-educated, Theodore Magder knows how to conceal his inner world hardly ever showing any emotions. Only when he talked about his son and his visit to the Promised Land his voice trembled. However, behind his seeming dryness I managed to discover the fine vulnerable heart of a man who had lived a long life and loved it. After our last meeting we went for a walk in the center of beautiful Kishinev. We went to the park and Theodore Magder told me about his youth. During this walk Theodore rescued a homeless kitten, which had fallen into a construction pit. He pulled it out and stroked its fur with tenderness. He said he loved dogs and cats, but after his wife's death he couldn't afford to keep a pet at home.

I don't know much about my maternal or paternal ancestors. We lived in different towns. My parents were rather shy and reserved and they hardly ever told me about their parents or childhood. My paternal grandfather, Yakov Magder, whom I never met, came from the Romanian town of Vaslui [c. 80 km from Kishinev]. I think he was born in the 1850s because in 1877-78, during the Russian-Turkish War 1, he was involved in the struggle for independence of Romania. When I was in my teens, I read a poem by a Romanian classic - I don't remember his name - who wrote about ten volunteers from Vaslui who distinguished themselves in the war, and one of them, who had a 'tempered heart', was my grandfather Yakov Magder. After the war a decree of granting political rights to the Jews who had distinguished themselves on the battlefield was issued in Romania, while Jews had had no citizenship in Romanian before. So my grandfather became a national of Romania. He and my grandmother, whose name I can't remember, lived in Vaslui all their life, and I never met them.

I don't know what my grandfather did for a living. He provided well for his family and gave his children excellent education, so I believe he was a wealthy and progressive man. I don't know any details of my grandparents' religiosity, but I can say they observed traditions, celebrated Sabbath and Jewish holidays. From what I know my father and his brothers didn't go to cheder. My grandfather wanted to raise his children to be progressive people and he managed it well. Grandfather Yakov died in 1926. My grandmother had died a few years before. They had four children.

My father's older brother, Adolf Magder, born in the early 1880s, suffered from a chronic disease since childhood. He was single for this reason. Adolf got a higher pedagogical education at Bucharest University. He was a teacher and a progressive activist in Bucharest. During the Great Patriotic War 2 he had an acute condition caused by his disease and was taken to the Jewish hospital in Bucharest where he had to stay a few years. He set up a nice library in the hospital. Adolf died in this hospital during the Great Patriotic War.

I was surprised to hear that the Jewish hospital was operating during the fascist regime in Bucharest, and I spent some time studying this issue. It turned out that Antonescu [see Antonescian period] 3, then Romanian leader, was tolerant to Jewish residents of Bucharest, but he mercifully exterminated residents of outside areas, primarily Transnistria 4. There were a number of anti-Semitic laws issued 5, restricting the rights and lives of Jews, but basically they presented no direct threat to their life. There was a Jewish Theater in Bucharest during the Great Patriotic War. Its director told me many years later that the German officers heading to the Eastern front also used to visit it.

My father's younger brother, Benjamin Magder, born in 1889, was also in Bucharest during the Great Patriotic War. Benjamin had distinguished himself when he served in the Romanian army during World War I. There's a mention of him in the book 'Jewish veterans of WWI', published in Bucharest. ['Evrei din Ruminia in Rhzboiyl de reirntregire a shrii 1916- 1919', issued in 1996 by HASEFER - Publishing House of the Federation of Jewish Communities in Romania, Dumitru Hunke.] Benjamin was a well- to-do attorney and owned a house in Bucharest. His wife's name was Anna and his daughter's name was Beatrica. Being a veteran of the war, he was allowed to stay in his house with his family. Benjamin lived a long life, but for quite obvious reasons - living in the USSR - I had no contacts with him. [The interviewee is referring to the fact that it was dangerous to keep in touch with relatives abroad] 6 He died in the late 1980s in his own bed. His daughter Beatrica, whom I met when I visited Romania after 1990, still lives in her parents' house. She has six grandchildren. My father also had a sister, whose name I can't remember. She lived in Bucharest and died young. That's all I know about her.

My father, Solomon Magder, was born in 1887. I know that after finishing a Romanian state-funded gymnasium, he entered the Law Faculty of the University of Iasi. Like many students at that time my father gave private classes to earn his living. That way he met Israel Feinzilber, a grain dealer, who hired him to teach his younger daughter. My father met my mother, Sima Feinzilber, the older daughter, and they fell in love with each other. They got married around 1912.

My mother's father, Israel Feinzilber, was born in Iasi in 1860. I don't remember my maternal grandmother's name, perhaps, because I just addressed her as 'granny'. My grandfather provided well for his family, though his earnings were based on many factors like crops, market demand, etc. There were six children in the family, so supporting all of them wasn't an easy task for my grandfather. I visited my grandfather in my childhood, and I remember his house well. My grandfather rented an apartment from Bokin, a wealthy Jewish landlord, who had a house on Captain Palui Street in a row of similar stone houses. There were four spacious rooms and a kitchen in the apartment. There was polished furniture in the rooms. My grandparents had a piano for their children to study music. There were velvet curtains on the windows.

My grandfather had Romanian and Jewish acquaintances and had good relations with them. I remember the nearby synagogue. There was a significant Jewish population in Iasi and there were several synagogues for the guilds of craftsmen, traders, etc. My grandfather Israel and my grandmother were rather religious and observed all Jewish traditions. My grandfather wore a wide-brimmed black hat to go to the synagogue on Friday and Saturday. I liked going with him when I was there. My grandmother wore a wig like all Jewish matrons. She took care of the household, did the shopping and cleaning.

I cannot remember how all the holidays were celebrated in my grandfather's home, but Pesach was my favorite. We usually joined my grandparents on this holiday - this was a family tradition. I remember how my father dressed up and reclined on cushions at the head of the table. There was plenty of food that my grandmother cooked on the table besides the Haggadah dishes. According to the rules, my grandfather put away a piece of afikoman. I watched him and found it instantly, and one time I asked my grandfather to buy me a bicycle that I had dreamt of for some time. My grandfather bought it for me, of course.

My grandfather and grandmother spoke Yiddish to one another. Though I didn't study the language, I could understand them all right. In 1930 my grandmother and grandfather moved to Bucharest. They rented a small apartment there, I remember. My grandfather Israel died in 1939. He was buried according to all Jewish rules. My mother, father and I went to his funeral. I saw many religious people and the rabbi reciting a prayer. My grandmother died a few months after my grandfather, but I didn't go to the funeral. She was also buried according to the rules.

My mother's older brother, Mathey Feinzilber, lived in Paris and was a doctor and a writer, when I met him in the 1930s. He wrote a number of novels that I read many years later. I saw him several times when I was 14-15. We corresponded in French. I didn't know Mathey's wife. Mathey had two sons: Jamin Feinzilber, the older one, had kidney tuberculosis. He died before the Great Patriotic War. The other one, Samson Feinzilber, was a cinema and theater critic. He was an actor as well; he performed in French theaters. During World War II he was wounded in his back - probably during an air raid. That's all I know about him. Most likely, he died in a concentration camp. I saw Mathey in 1939, when he came to my grandfather Israel's funeral.

My mother's older sister, Tonia Rozenstein, nee Feinzilber, also lived in Bucharest. Her husband was a wealthy man. When the fascist regime of Antonescu came to power in Romania, he moved to Palestine with his family. He died there in the middle of the 1940s. His wife died a few years later. Tonia's son, Emil Rozenstein, perished in France during World War II.

My mother's younger sister, Sonia Feinzilber, married a Mr. Nadler, a Romanian Jew. They moved to Egypt. They lived in Alexandria where her husband owned a confectionery. I visited Sonia at the age of 12. I was struck by the eternal beauty of Egypt. There was a rather big Jewish community, a synagogue and Jewish community activities in Alexandria. During and after the Great Patriotic War Sonia and her husband lived in Switzerland. They died in the early 1950s. Sonia had no children.

My mother's younger brother, Simon Feinzilber, also finished the Medical Faculty in Iasi and lived and worked in France like his older brother. Simon was single. That's all I know about him.

Emil, the youngest brother, became a businessman. He owned a textile factory. He lived in Iasi and then in Bucharest. In the late 1930s he moved to Palestine with his wife, whose name I don't remember, and their son, Edwin. Emil and his wife died after the war. I have no information about my cousin brother Edwin.

My mother, Sima Magder, nee Feinzilber, was born in Iasi in 1889. Mama had a private teacher at home and then finished a Jewish or Romanian gymnasium. My parents spoke Romanian to each other for the most part, but they knew Yiddish as well. My mother learned to play the piano and did so quite well. She also studied foreign languages. She was quite well-educated for her time. Neither my father nor my mother knew Hebrew. My parents got married in Iasi in 1912. My grandfather Israel insisted that they got married under a chuppah and had a traditional Jewish wedding.

After the wedding my parents rented an apartment. In 1913 my father and his brother were drafted to the army. When my father's term of service was over, World War I began. He finished an officer school and went to war. One of those years my mother gave birth to her first baby named Emmanuel. Unfortunately, the boy died of scarlet fever at the age of five. I don't know when exactly my father was demobilized, but he moved to Kishinev immediately. He may have been offered a job there. My mother followed him.

Before I was due my mother went to her parents in Iasi, and I was born there on 30th October 1921. My name, as well as my relatives' names, seems to be of Romanian, French or even Spanish rather than Jewish origin. I was a long-expected child, particularly since my parents had lost their first baby. Though my father wasn't religious, he obeyed his relatives and I had my brit [milah] ritual on the eighth day. At home I was affectionately addressed as Theo, and this became the name that my family used for me. My first childhood memory is of my mother sitting on the sofa, calling my name and stretching her hands out toward me - she probably taught me to walk thereby.

Another one of my memories is our house, or apartment, I'd rather say, which my parents rented on 16 Pushkinskaya Street. We had four rooms: a living room and a piano in it, my parents' bedroom, a children's room and my father's study. Mama spent all her time with me. She read me fairy tales and poems by Romanian authors, and she took me for walks in the beautiful town garden [in Kishinev] that is still there. There was a visiting housemaid, who did the shopping, cleaning and cooking at home, but my mother tried to do as much housework as she managed herself: at that time the progressive intelligentsia, which I think my parents belonged to, inspired by democratic ideas, tried to avoid using hired labor. My father worked a lot. Lawyers usually had their offices at home. My father was working and I liked watching him as he was sitting on the sofa. There were armchairs, high bookcases with thick volumes in them, and a desk in the center of his room. When my father had visitors, I had to leave his study. He was basically rather strict, but not my mother who was spoiling me.

My parents didn't observe Jewish traditions. My grandfather Israel usually told me about Jewish traditions and holidays, when I visited him in Iasi. My father didn't go to the synagogue and was an atheist, but he had ties with the progressive Jewish circles and defended Jews in court. Leaders of Jewish Zionist organizations often visited him at home and they had discussions in his room; even a rabbi visited my father once to consult him. My father wrote articles mainly on the eternal Jewish issue. I heard the word 'anti-Semitism' in my childhood, though I didn't know the meaning. My father was involved in civil, criminal and political cases. However, my father never discussed his work with me. I don't even know what kind of organizations they were; my father didn't tell me about them. Only much later did I learn about his support of Jewish organizations from his comrades and the media. I found out that my father was one of the founders of the Maccabi 7 local organization for young people in Kishinev. He also spent time with members of this organization. My father was a progressive attorney, supporting and defending those who struggled with the regime for a bright future. He didn't belong to any political party, but his views were close to the socialist ideology. My father also wrote articles about the Jewish history. I learned this, when I studied the history of my family in the 1990s.

I wouldn't say that my father spent little time with me. He read to me, taught me about arithmetic and nature. At the age of five I actually completed the syllabus of the 1st grade of elementary school. I was to take an exam in front of a big commission and this was the first exam in my life. My father was sitting in the conference room where I was standing before the commission. There was the 'intuition' subject in the first grade, something close to natural sciences [Editor's note: the subject certainly had a different name than 'intuitsiya' (Russian), but its content could have been similar to science classes for children of this age.] So the commission asked me to name home pets. I named a dog, a cat, a cow, a duck, etc. When they asked me which of them was my favorite, I said 'duck' and explained that it walked in a funny manner. I even demonstrated how it walked and the commission and my father burst into laughter. The commission gave me the highest mark and explained to my father that I was a smart boy and had an original way of thinking. So I became a pupil of the 1st grade. My grandfather and grandmother already lived in Bucharest, and we didn't join them on Jewish holidays. When I turned 13, my grandfather got angry with my father: my father refused to arrange a bar mitzvah for me. My grandfather didn't talk to my father for almost a year.

I went to the Romanian gymnasium [Lyceum]. There were 40 pupils in my class, seven or eight of who were Jews. Other classes had about the same ratio. By the middle of the 1930s the Jewish population of the town was about 80,000 people. [Editor's note: In 1930 the 41,405 Jews living in Kishinev constituted over 36 percent of the total population numbering 114,896.] There were 65 synagogues and prayer houses and a developed network of Jewish organizations in the town. There were Jewish schools, gymnasiums, and vocational schools preparing young people for repatriation to Palestine. There was a network of Jewish charity organizations, orphanages and a Jewish hospital. There was a Jewish newspaper called 'Neue Zeit' ['New Time' in German/Yiddish] published in Kishinev.

I didn't take part in any Jewish activities and, like my father, identified myself as a Romanian to a bigger extent. It should be noted that before Romania became fascist, Jews had no problems in their relations with other nations. There was no segregation in the gymnasium: when Christian children had their religious classes, Jewish children studied the history of Judaism and Jewish history. This was an elective course and my father didn't force me to attend it, but I did as I found it interesting. Later it was closed.

I began to take interest in politics, when I was rather young. By the age of twelve I clearly defined my own political interests. I had Romanian, Jewish and Russian friends. Anti-fascism was our common view. Fascism was spreading in Romania through such organizations as the Cuzists 8 and the Legionary Movement 9, but there were also anti- fascist organizations. Constantinescu, a professor of Kishinev University, was at the head of this movement. He was also the head of the Society of Friendship with the USSR [a local society]. In 1935 he was brought to trial and my father spoke as his attorney. This movement also involved gymnasium students. Two of my classmates were arrested for their participation in the underground Komsomol 10 organization. My father couldn't defend them in court to avoid being accused of bias considering that they were my friends. The guys were sentenced to six months in prison, though they were just 15 years olds, and they were expelled from the gymnasium. When they were released, I continued meeting them and shared their views, but I never joined the underground Komsomol organization.

I took a great deal of interest in the Soviet Union like all young anti- fascists; we tried to learn as much as we could about this country. Of course, we had no information about the mass persecutions or arrests, occurring in the USSR at the time [during the so-called Great Terror] 11, though the Romanian press occasionally mentioned large political trials - against Kamenev 12, Zinoviev 13, etc. Later I read records of these trials in a book published in the Soviet Union in many languages. I received one copy of the book in French translation, 'The book you know not about', and when I read the trial records and the words of confessions of espionage and all deadly sins that Lenin's comrades had committed, I couldn't believe this had happened and asked my father to explain. Papa told me strictly that I had no grounds to doubt that what was published in newspapers and books was true: as long as Lenin's former comrades confessed, this meant they were enemies.

Besides politics I was also fond of literature. I read Romanian, French and German books in the original language. I studied these languages with private teachers. I also read the following Russian classics translated into Romanian: Tolstoy 14, Pushkin 15, Chekhov 16, Dostoevsky 17. I didn't know Russian. At that time it was even forbidden in Romania. There were announcements that Russian wasn't allowed in public places. I wasn't fond of Jewish literature. I only read Sholem Aleichem 18 in Romanian. I also wrote essays and they were published in our gymnasium newspaper. After visiting my aunt in Egypt I wrote a few travel notes. I wrote critical articles and journalistic essays. My fondness of literature helped to pass my exam for the 'Bachelor's degree' very successfully. [Editor's note: In Eastern Europe the term 'Bachelor's degree' refers to the graduation after taking the final exam at high school.] This was a very important exam: about 140 incumbents from all gymnasia of the town had to come to a big hall. The commission included teachers and professors from Bucharest, whom we didn't know. We were to name a writer and be ready to answer any question regarding his life or work. I chose Caragiale 19 a complex and contradictory author. However, I answered all questions and was awarded my Bachelor's degree.

I finished the gymnasium in 1939 and had to think about the future. I decided to go to a medical college - firstly, I was fond of medicine, and secondly, doctors belonged to the wealthy level of society. I went to Bucharest where I stayed with my mama's sister Tonia. Uncle Emil was in Bucharest at that time. He spent a lot of his time with me. I submitted my documents to the Medical Faculty of Bucharest University. Applicants had to sit in alphabetic order at the exam. My companions were Makariy and Manchur, non-Jews, of course. I finished my test and did theirs. We passed the written exam and were allowed to take the oral exam. Makariy and Manchur demonstrated their friendly feelings toward me. Between exams we walked around Bucharest together. One of the guys, a landlord's son, invited me to his mansion, and the other one promised to introduce me to his sister and arrange for me to marry her. During the oral exam I answered very well, but I didn't find my name in the list of students. This was the first time I faced anti- Semitism on the state-level. My 'friends' turned away from me immediately. I had a real depression - I was extremely upset about my first experience associated with the realization of my national identity.

I didn't know where to go or what to do. Wandering about the streets in Bucharest, I saw an announcement of admission to the Faculty of Literature and Philosophy. Since my medical career was over before it started I took my documents there. There was a rather big competition for this faculty. Besides, I was to take exams in subjects that I wasn't particularly ready to take. However, I managed well and became a student of Bucharest University. Throughout this year I attended lectures by the best professors in Romania and acquired invaluable knowledge. One of the best professors was Nicolae Iorga 20, a prominent Romanian historian. He spoke 42 languages fluently and was an honored member of many European and American Academies of Sciences.

This was the period of the boom of fascist parties in Romania - Cuzists and others. They had similar programs propagating racial hatred, anti- Semitism and fascism. Today it seems strange that many young people were fond of racial theories and were members of these parties. After the Great Patriotic War they changed their opinions, understood their mistakes and became a part of world literature and philosophy. One of them was Emile Cioran 21, whose works I admire. It should be noted that there were no direct anti-Semitic demonstrations at university. I even remember a case when one of the lecturers, a member of the Legionary Movement, who didn't conceal his views, speaking depreciatingly about Jews, gave me the highest mark at an exam, despite my Jewish identity.

During the War

After passing my exams for the first year, I went on vacation to Kishinev in June 1940. My father was recruited to the Romanian army in 1940 and was away from home. The Soviet Army arrived in Bessarabia 22 on 28th June [see Annexation of Bessarabia to the Soviet Union] 23. I stayed in Kishinev, and my studies at university were over - Soviet citizens weren't allowed to travel abroad. This was a hard period. I was alone with my mother, with no earnings, without my father, and besides, I knew no Russian. About a month after Bessarabia was annexed to the USSR, a man from Romania found me to tell me the tragic story of my father. He was released from the army like all other Jews. My father was in Romania, had no contact with us, and facing the crash of his views - democracy and respect of people - and understanding that he couldn't stand to live under a fascist regime, he committed suicide. This was a hard period for me. I decided to keep it a secret from Mama and she kept hoping to see him again and didn't give up this hope and love for my father till the end of her life.

I knew I was the only man and breadwinner in our small family. I knew I had to get an education and to do this I had to learn Russian. The best place to learn Russian was the Faculty of Russian Literature and Language. I gathered my courage and went to see the rector of the Pedagogical College that had opened in Kishinev shortly before. Makar Radu, the rector, was quite a young man. He was surprised and even angry about my impudence - I wanted to enter this faculty without knowing Russian and become a teacher three or four years later! The rector turned me down at first, but I managed to convince him to admit me on condition that I would quit, if I failed my mid-year exams. The rector approved my application for admission.

The subject of my first lecture was antic literature. I didn't understand a word of it. I sat beside a pretty girl and continued to sit beside her at classes from then on and started learning the Russian language. It didn't take me long to pick it up, though I kept writing in Latin letters. I passed my midyear exams with excellent marks and became a student of the college. The girl and I became friends and then fell in love with one another. Her name was Asia Shnirelman. She was born into the Jewish family of a doctor in Kishinev in 1922. We would spend the rest of our lives together.

On Saturday, 21st June 1941, I was spending time with my co-students. We had passed our summer exams and enjoyed ourselves dancing, singing, and drinking wine. I returned home at 1 o'clock in the morning. At five we woke up from the roar of bombing: the Great Patriotic War began. I knew Jews had to evacuate. I made Mama promise that she would evacuate with my fiancee Asia's family. We knew we would become husband and wife to spend our life together.

On 6th July I was recruited to the army. I took my college record book and a student's identity card - these were my most valuable belongings. I served in the rear units following the front-line forces. We were to install temporary ridges and crossings. I covered this doleful road of retreat with the Red Army. In each town our unit passed I found a pedagogical college, asking its lecturers to be my examiners. They were looking at me as if I was crazy, but they couldn't turn down a soldier who might actually die any moment. I found libraries or archives, which at times had been turned into scrap heaps, and was looking for the textbooks I needed. I studied at intervals between marches and battles - my goal was studying.

In late 1941 all Bessarabians, including me, were demobilized - the Soviet people didn't trust its new citizens. This distrust hurt me, but now I understand how fortunate I was - it helped me to survive. I was in Krasnodar [Russia], 1,500 kilometers from home. I asked the people in the evacuation inquiry office to give me information about my mother's whereabouts. My mother, Asia and her family were in a village in Kuban region, near Krasnodar, not far from where I was staying. I went to join them there. On the way patrols halted me a few times since I was wearing my military uniform. I showed them my demobilization certificate and they let me go. When I found my mother and my fiancee, we were boundlessly happy to see each other again. We stayed in Kuban for a few months and then moved farther to the east, when the front line approached.

We stopped in Dagestan for some time waiting for a boat. I was captured in a raid, one of many to be checked for 'men fit to serve in the army'. They checked my documents and let me go. From there we took a boat to cross the Caspian Sea with thousands of other people who had left their homes like us. Then we took a train to Uzbekistan. It was a freight train; it was a long trip. When the train stopped, we exchanged clothes for food. We arrived at Tashkent where my fiancee's father got a job offer to work in a hospital in Bukhara. So, we found ourselves in Bukhara, 3,500 kilometers from Kishinev. When Asia and I decided to register our marriage, I was recruited to the Labor army [mobilized to do physical work for the army]. I had to go to a mine in Sverdlovsk region. I was trained to work as a rigger in a mine. This was hard work, but I was young and didn't fear hard work. I lived in a hostel with other young workers. We received bread cards [see card system] 24 and got sufficient food for them. In 1942, the hardest period for our country and army, I joined the Komsomol and it was a sincere step on my part. I didn't work long in the mine. I fell ill with typhus. After I recovered, I was released from hospital and from work. I returned to my family in Bukhara.

This was in fall 1942. I went to the Russian Faculty of the Uzbek Pedagogical College. I also went to work as a German teacher at school. We all lived in one room. We had to stand in line to get bread at night. However, this was quite common at the time. The Uzbek people had never heard about Bessarabia before we came to their town. We were like from a different planet for them. I was struck by the low educational and cultural level of the population that seemed to have been stuck in the middle ages. They thought that Germans would never be able to cross the 'wide water', as they called the Caspian Sea. They respected me and the rest of us for having managed to cross this 'water obstacle'. I liked Uzbek children and enjoyed teaching them. It didn't take me long to pick up the Uzbek language.

In late 1943 my mother fell ill and died. I never told her what had happened to my father, and she never lost hope to see him again. We buried Mama in the local cemetery without observing Jewish traditions since she wasn't religious. Shortly after my mother's death, Asia and I registered our marriage in a registry office. We became husband and wife and she became my only and dearest person.

When Bessarabia was liberated in early 1944, my father-in-law started making arrangements for us to obtain a permit to return to our hometown. In Kishinev many buildings that I had liked so much were destroyed. There were only few buildings left in the center, and the monument dedicated to the great Pushkin was there as well. A new stage of my life began. I went to work in the Moldovan department of the TASU [Telegraph Agency of the Soviet Union], and also studied in my last year at college. I usually worked at night, receiving news by telegraph and preparing it for the morning broadcast. I attended lectures in college and then passed my state exams successfully. I was also involved in editing and journalistic work, and, in time, I became chief of the foreign department.

For some time there were no demonstrations of anti-Semitism; even in the early 1950s, during the burst of anti-Semitism on a state level, we only knew about the Doctors' Plot 25 from newspapers. I never concealed my nationality. When I received my first postwar Soviet passport I thought about my nationality. The officer at the passport department was struck when he heard my question regarding the procedure in choosing the nationality. He said it wasn't based on religiosity, since we were atheists, or racial, since we were not racists, but it might be that the mother tongue determined the nationality. And I said, 'Then write 'Jew', please', knowing that my mother tongue was Romanian, though.

I joined the Communist Party in 1949, and I did so knowingly. I had been raised in the family of an anti-fascist man and communist ideas had been close to me since my boyhood. I felt real grief when Stalin died in 1953, and the denunciation of his cult by Khrushchev 26 was a sort of crash of ideals for me. I was involved in the coverage of the Twentieth Party Congress 27 in Moscow and was horrified to hear about the crimes of the leader. My trust in the Communist Party was broken.

In 1950 our son was born. We named him Victor in honor of the victory of the USSR in the war. Victor studied well at school. He finished it with a medal. Victor entered the popular faculty of the prestigious Electrotechnical College in Leningrad [today St. Petersburg, Russia]. I rented an apartment for my son. Some time later my son's friends informed me about strange things happening to my son: he fainted occasionally without any obvious reasons. Victor never mentioned it to me. I went to Leningrad and took my son to different doctors. They couldn't find the reason for what was happening. I made an appointment with a prominent neuropathologist, general of the medical service. He examined my son and told me that the ecology and climate of Leningrad were disastrous for my son and he had to move away from there. Victor wanted to stay, but I picked his documents and we returned to Kishinev.

Victor entered the university in Kishinev and studied well until he became a 5th-year student. He married Rita Vaksman, his co-student. Their daughter, Ada, was born in 1973. All of a sudden my son was expelled from university for immoral conduct. I wanted to know the truth: my son was a nice young man and he was devoted to his family. I heard rumors that Victor was expelled after someone reported having seen a map of Israel in his room in Leningrad where Victor had marked relocations of the Israeli army during the Six-Day-War 28. This was nonsense, but I failed to prove anything.

When he was expelled from the last course at university, my son decided to move to Israel. At first, my wife and I were against his decision, but then we understood we couldn't force him to stay and signed a permission for him to depart. As soon as I had signed this permission, the party committee summoned me, and then there was a meeting. The issue on the agenda was my expulsion from the Party, but they decided that a strict reprimand for failure in the upbringing of my son was sufficient. I understood that, according to the rules and morals of the time, all relatives of those who had moved to Israel were subject to ostracism. By the way, the authorities were loyal to me: they didn't fire me, but just asked where I wanted to work. Therefore, having worked for the TASU for 29 years I quit my job there. My wife, who was head of the editor's office of a magazine, was also fired from this position due to our son's departure. She was transferred to an editor's position.

I went to work at the publishing house of the Academy of Sciences, where I worked a few years before I went to work at the 'Tribune', a small and unpopular magazine. Then, the chief engineer of the Moldavhydromash industrial association, which was engaged in the industrial machine building and included three big plants and scientific research institutions, approached me. He offered me to write a book about the association on the occasion of its 100th anniversary. I thought it over and agreed. I visited this enterprise, familiarized myself with documents, and I understood that I couldn't write a proper book from the outside. I quit my work with the magazine and went to work as a laborer at this enterprise. I wrote the book in cooperation with the employees of the plant newspaper. Later the management offered me to establish and become the director of the museum of this enterprise. The museum I established got the status of people's museum and became very popular in Kishinev. We received many national and foreign delegations.

I worked in the museum until 1990. Then something happened that had an impact on all of us in one way or another: perestroika 29, the breakup of the Soviet Union. The premier [Snegur, Mircea, president of Moldova from 1991-96] of the first government of independent Moldova 30 offered me to take part in the establishment of the department of national issues. I was so dedicated to my job as director of the museum of the plant that I accepted this offer on condition that I could keep my position at the plant. I worked in the department for national relations for ten years. I had very good relations with the premier. He also involved me in diplomatic work. I did a lot for the Jews of Pridnestroiye, when the war began there [see Transnistrian Republic] 31. [Editor's note: In a nearly-forgotten corner of the former Soviet Union, a region of Moldova sandwiched between the Dniester river and Ukraine is celebrating twelve years of unrecognized independence. Despite economic hardship and diplomatic rejection, the self-proclaimed Dniester Moldovan Republic - recognized by the world as the Trans- Dniester region of Moldova - appears determined to preserve the traditions of its recent past. The Trans-Dniester region, with a population of less than a million mostly Russian and Ukrainian speakers, unilaterally declared independence from the then-Soviet Republic of Moldova on 2nd September 1990 as people became increasingly alarmed at the prospect of closer ties with Romania. Fighting broke out in the turmoil following the collapse of the Soviet Union, with hundreds dying before the introduction of Russian peacekeepers in mid- 1992.] 1,400 people, who had lost their home and relatives, were to be transported to Israel. We arranged for the buses for these Jews to pick them up at the border of Moldova. They were accommodated in a hotel in Kishinev and given free meals. Those who had documents were sent to Israel promptly. As for those, whose documents had disappeared, burnt in the blasted houses in Bendery and Tiraspol, I prepared a solicitation to the government of Moldova for its approval of simplified procedures for these victims. Two months later they took a train to Bucharest and from there traveled on to Israel.

There were no flights to Israel, and I need to say that I contributed to the resolution of this issue. At my work I had meetings with an American diplomat of Jewish origin. He asked me whether the president of Moldova, Snegur, would come visit if he received an invitation to Israel. I promised him that I would find out what Snegur thought about it. When the President gave his consent for a visit, I verbally passed this message on to the American diplomat. The President's advisors confirmed his decision. I convinced the President to expand the circle of issues to be resolved - the problem of diplomatic relations, airlines, economic issues - and, in the long run, I headed a delegation of ten people to Israel. Our delegation spent ten fruitful days in Israel and resolved a number of issues.

I also met with my son whom I hadn't seen for 18 years, since 1973. My darling wife Asia never saw our son again. She died on 8th August 1989. My son told me his touching story: He had arrived in the country with his wife Rita and their one-year-old daughter, Ada. At that time departure to Israel was only possible if one had an invitation from some people of straw, who declared they were relatives, and with the support of some international Zionist organizations. I don't have the slightest idea how they did it, but somehow these invitations reached the destinations. When my son was asked at the airport in Israel whether he had relatives, he mentioned this man who had signed his invitation. Of course, he had never seen him and the name was the only information he had about this man, or Israel for that matter. My son was given a car with driver, who took them to a specified address in a town. It was night, it was raining, and Victor, Rita and Ada were standing by the door of a stranger in a strange country. The owner of the house was at home. He remembered that he had signed an invitation one day, invited my son's family inside, accommodated them in his house and supported my son and his family for some time at the beginning. I thank this man from the bottom of my heart. My son is doing very well. He works for a big company. Ada got married and has two children, a son named Odet and a daughter named Sarrah - my great-grandchildren. In 1982 my son's daughter Ilana was born. She recently returned from her service in the army. So, in the long run my son took the right decision to move to Israel.

As for me, I've always associated my life with my homeland - Moldova - and my favorite town, Kishinev. In 2001 the government changed and I quit my post. In the past I was executive director of the Association of Jewish Organizations and Communities, had ties with Joint 32 representatives and accepted the offer to become full-time director of the Jewish community center. I'm not a religious person: I've never observed Jewish traditions or gone to the synagogue. However, I dedicate myself to the revival of Jewish culture, traditions and the upbringing of young Jews, and I'm content with the place I have in life. I don't feel like quitting my job or my life, I understand I need to train a good and decent successor, who can take over my place in the Jewish life of Kishinev.

My family background
Growing up
During the war
Post-war
Glossary

1 Russian-Turkish War (1877-78)

After the loss of the Crimean War (1856) the Russian Empire made a second attempt in 1877 to secure its outlet from the Black Sea to the Mediterranean by conquering the strategic straits (Bosporus and Dardanelles) and strengthening its position in the Balkans. The pretext of the war declaration was pan- Slavism: protecting the fellow Christian Orthodox and Slavic speaking population of the Ottoman controlled South Eastern Europe. From the Russian controlled Bessarabia the Russian army entered Romania and attacked the Ottomans south of the Danube. With enthusiastic Bulgarian support the Russians won the decisive battles at Plevna (Pleven) and the Shipka straight in the Balkan Mountains. They took Adrianople (Edirne) in 1878 and reached San Stefano (Yesilkoy), an Istanbul suburb, where they signed a treaty with the Porte. This provided for an autonomous Bulgarian state, under Russian protection, bordering the Black and the Aegean seas, including also most of historic Thrace and Macedonia. Britain (safeguarding status quo on the European continent) and Austria-Hungary (having strategic interests in the region) initiated a joint Great Power decision to limit Russian dominance in the Balkans. Their diplomatic efforts were successful and resulted in the Treaty of Berlin in 1878. According to this Bulgaria was made much smaller and large populations of Bulgarians remained outside the new frontiers. Eastern Rumelia as an autonomous Ottoman province was created. In Berlin the Romanian, the Serbian and the Montenegrin states were internationally recognized and Austria-Hungary was given the right to occupy Bosnia and Herzegovina to restore order.

2 Great Patriotic War

3 Antonescian period (September 1940- August 1944)

The Romanian King Carol II appointed Ion Antonescu (chief of the general staff of the Romanian Army, Minister of War between 1937 and 1938) prime minister with full power under the pressure of the Germans after the Second Vienna Dictate. At first Antonescu formed a coalition with the Legionary leaders, but after their attempted coup (in January 1941) he introduced a military dictatorship. He joined the Triple Alliance, and helped Germany in its fight against the Soviet Union. In order to gain new territories (Transylvania, Bessarabia), he increased to the utmost the Romanian war-efforts and retook Bassarabia through a lot of sacrifices in 1941-1942. At the same time the notorious Romanian anti- Semitic pogroms are linked to his name and so are the deportations - this topic has been a taboo in Romanian historiography up to now. Antonescu was arrested on the orders of the king on 23rd August 1944 (when Romania capitulated) and sent to prison in the USSR where he remained until 1946. He was sentenced to death for his crimes as a war criminal and was shot in the same year.

4 Transnistria

Area situated between the Bug and Dniester rivers and the Black Sea. The term is derived from the Romanian name for the Dniester (Nistru) and was coined after the occupation of the area by German and Romanian troops in World War II. After its occupation Transnistria became a place for deported Romanian Jews. Systematic deportations began in September 1941. In the course of the next two months, all surviving Jews of Bessarabia and Bukovina and a small part of the Jewish population of Old Romania were dispatched across the Dniester. This first wave of deportations reached almost 120,000 by mid- November 1941 when it was halted by Ion Antonescu, the Romanian dictator, upon intervention of the Council of Romanian Jewish Communities. Deportations resumed at the beginning of the summer of 1942, affecting close to 5,000 Jews. A third series of deportations from Old Romania took place in July 1942, affecting Jews who had evaded forced labor decrees, as well as their families, communist sympathizers and Bessarabian Jews who had been in Old Romania and Transylvania during the Soviet occupation. The most feared Transnistrian camps were Vapniarka, Ribnita, Berezovka, Tulcin and Iampol. Most of the Jews deported to camps in Transnistria died between 1941-1943 because of horrible living conditions, diseases and lack of food.

5 Anti-Jewish laws in Romania

The first anti-Jewish laws were introduced in 1938 by the Goga-Cuza government. Further anti-Jewish laws followed in 1940 and 1941, and the situation was getting gradually worse between 1941-1944 under the Antonescu regime. According to these laws all Jews aged 18-40 living in villages were to be evacuated and concentrated in the capital town of each county. Jews from the region between the Siret and Prut Rivers were transported by wagons to the camps of Targu Jiu, Slobozia, Craiova etc. where they lived and died in misery. More than 40,000 Jews were moved. All rural Jewish property, as well as houses owned by Jews in the city, were confiscated by the state, as part of the 'Romanisation campaign'. Marriages between Jews and Romanians were forbidden from August 1940, Jews were not allowed to have Romanian names, own rural properties, be public employees, lawyers, editors or janitors in public institutions, have a career in the army, own liquor stores, etc. Jewish employees of commercial and industrial enterprises were fired, Jewish doctors could no longer practice and Jews were not allowed to own chemist shops. Jewish students were forbidden to study in Romanian schools.

6 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.

7 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.

8 Cuzist

Member of the Romanian fascist organization named after Alexandru C. Cuza, one of the most fervent fascist leaders in Romania, who was known for his ruthless chauvinism and anti-Semitism. Cuza founded the National Christian Defense League, the LANC (Liga Apararii National Crestine), in 1923. The paramilitary troops of the league, called lancierii, wore blue uniforms. The organization published a newspaper entitled Apararea Nationala. In 1935 the LANC merged with the National Agrarian Party, and turned into the National Christian Party, which had a pronounced anti-Semitic program.

9 Legionary Movement (also known as the Legion of the Archangel Michael)

Movement founded in 1927 by C. Z. Codreanu. This extremist, nationalist, anti-Semitic and xenophobic movement aimed at excluding those whose views on political and racial matters were different from theirs. The Legion was organized in so-called nests, and it practiced mystical rituals, which were regarded as the way to a national spiritual regeneration by the members of the movement. These rituals were based on Romanian folklore and historical traditions. The Legionaries founded the Iron Guard as a terror organization, which carried out terrorist activities and political murders. The political twin of the Legionary Movement was the Totul pentru Tara (Everything for the Fatherland) that represented the movement in parliamentary elections. The followers of the Legionary Movement were recruited from young intellectuals, students, Orthodox clericals, peasants. The movement was banned by King Carol II in 1938.

10 Komsomol

11 Great Terror (1934-1938)

12 Kamenev, Lev Borisovich (1883-1936)

Soviet communist leader, member of the first Politburo of the Communist Party after the Revolution of 1917. After Lenin's death in 1924, Zinoviev, Kamenev, and Stalin formed a ruling triumvirate and excluded Trotsky from the Party. In 1925 Stalin, in an effort to consolidate his own power, turned against Zinoviev and Kamenev, who then joined Trotsky's opposition. Kamenev was expelled from the Party in 1927, but he recanted, was readmitted, and held minor offices. He was arrested in 1934 accused of complicity in the murder of Kirov and was imprisoned. In 1936 he, Zinoviev, and 13 old Bolsheviks were tried for treason in the first big public purge trial. They confessed and were executed.

13 Zinoviev, Grigory Evseyevich (1883-1936)

Soviet communist leader, head of the Comintern (1919-26) and member of the Communist Party Politburo (1921-26). After Lenin's death in 1924, Zinoviev, Kamenev, and Stalin formed a ruling triumvirate and excluded Trotsky from the Party. In 1925 Stalin, in an effort to consolidate his own power, turned against Zinoviev and Kamenev, who then joined Trotsky's opposition. Zinoviev was removed from his party posts in 1926 and expelled from the Party in 1927. He recanted and was readmitted in 1928 but wielded little influence. In 1936, he, Kamenev, and 13 old Bolsheviks were tried for treason in the first big public purge trial. They confessed and were executed.

14 Tolstoy, Lev Nikolayevich (1828-1910)

Russian novelist and moral philosopher, who holds an important place in his country's cultural history as an ethical philosopher and religious reformer. Tolstoy, alongside Dostoyevsky, made the realistic novel a literary genre, ranking in importance with classical Greek tragedy and Elizabethan drama. He is best known for his novels, including War and Peace, Anna Karenina and The Death of Ivan Ilyich, but also wrote short stories and essays and plays. Tolstoy took part in the Crimean War and his stories based one the defense of Sevastopol, known as Sevastopol Sketches, made him famous and opened St. Petersburg's literary circles to him. His main interest lay in working out his religious and philosophical ideas. He condemned capitalism and private property and was a fearless critic, which finally resulted in his excommunication from the Russian Orthodox Church in 1901. His views regarding the evil of private property gradually estranged him from his wife, Yasnaya Polyana, and children, except for his daughter Alexandra, and he finally left them in 1910. He died on his way to a monastery at the railway junction of Astapovo.

15 Pushkin, Alexandr (1799-1837)

16 Chekhov, Anton Pavlovich (1860-1904)

Russian short-story writer and dramatist. Chekhov's hundreds of stories concern human folly, the tragedy of triviality, and the oppression of banality. His characters are drawn with compassion and humor in a clear, simple style noted for its realistic detail. His focus on internal drama was an innovation that had enormous influence on both Russian and foreign literature. His success as a dramatist was assured when the Moscow Art Theater took his works and staged great productions of his masterpieces, such as Uncle Vanya or The Three Sisters. and also had some religious instruction.

17 Dostoevsky, Fyodor (1821-1881)

Russian novelist, journalist and short-story writer whose psychological penetration into the human soul had a profound influence on the 20th century novel. His novels anticipated many of the ideas of Nietzsche and Freud. Dostoevsky's novels contain many autobiographical elements, but ultimately they deal with moral and philosophical issues. He presented interacting characters with contrasting views or ideas about freedom of choice, socialism, atheisms, good and evil, happiness and so forth.

18 Sholem Aleichem (pen name of Shalom Rabinovich (1859-1916)

19 Caragiale, Ion Luca (1852-1912)

Very important Romanian playwright, prose writer and journalist, representative of the classical trend. He was a contributor for the most renowned humor gazettes of liberal orientation, and for liberal and conservative newspapers. Refusing to comply with the aesthetical and social taboos of his time, he made a deep analysis of the Romanian society in all his works, from plays and literary prose to humorous sketches, politically- biased columns and epistolary literature. In 1905, he settled in Berlin together with his family. He was the father of the prose writer and poet Mateiu I. Caragiale and of the poet Luca I. Caragiale.

20 Iorga, Nicolae (1871-1940)

historian, university professor, literary critic, memorialist, playwright, poet, and Romanian politician. Iorga attended Iasi University, from which he graduated Magna Cum Laude after completing his undergraduate studies in a single year. He went on to study in Paris, Berlin and Leipzig, obtaining his doctorate in 1893. A prolific author, he is estimated to have written 1,250 published volumes and 25,000 articles. He traveled extensively throughout Europe, and his written works in many languages bear out the claim that he could read, write, and speak virtually all of the major modern European languages. He served as a member of parliament, as president of the post-WWI National Assembly, as minister, and (1931-32) as prime minister. He was co-founder (in 1910, with A. C. Cuza) of the Democratic Nationalist Party. Iorga was ultimately assassinated by Iron Guard commandos in 1940, who considered him responsible (in his capacity as a minister) for the 1938 death of their charismatic leader, Corneliu Zelea Codreanu.

21 Cioran, Emil (1911-1995)

Major Romanian essayist and philosopher who asserted himself in the European culture through a philosophical-moralizing discourse. In 1938, he was granted a scholarship by the French Republic and settled in Paris, where he continued his work in French. He wrote several volumes of essays and paraliterary commentaries on existential concepts and issues. He evolved towards a stoical philosophical position, concerned with the issues of suffering and evil.

22 Bessarabia

23 Annexation of Bessarabia to the Soviet Union

At the end of June 1940 the Soviet Union demanded Romania to withdraw its troops from Bessarabia and to abandon the territory. Romania withdrew its troops and administration in the same month and between 28th June and 3rd July, the Soviets occupied the region. At the same time Romania was obliged to give up Northern Transylvania to Hungary and Southern-Dobrudja to Bulgaria. These territorial losses influenced Romanian politics during World War II to a great extent.

24 Card system

25 Doctors' Plot

26 Khrushchev, Nikita (1894-1971)

27 Twentieth Party Congress

28 Six-Day-War

29 Perestroika (Russian for restructuring)

30 Moldova

Historic region between the Eastern Carpathians, the Dniester River and the Black Sea, also a contemporary state, bordering with Romania and Ukraine. Moldova was first mentioned after the end of the Mongol invasion in 14th century scripts as Eastern marquisate of the Hungarian Kingdom. For a long time, the Principality of Moldova was tributary of either Poland or Hungary until the Ottoman Empire took possession of it in 1512. The Sultans ruled Moldova indirectly by appointing the Prince of Moldova to govern the vassal principality. These were Moldovan boyars until the early 18th century and Greek (Phanariot) ones after. In 1812 Tsar Alexander I occupied the eastern part of Moldova (between the Prut and the Dniester river and the Black Sea) and attached it to its Empire under the name of Bessarabia. In 1859 the remaining part of Moldova merged with Wallachia. In 1862 the new country was called Romania, which was finally internationally recognized at the Treaty of Berlin in 1878. Bessarabia united with Romania after World War I, and was recaptured by the Soviet Union in 1940. The Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic gained independence after the break up of the Soviet Union in 1991 and is now called Moldovan Republic (Republica Moldova).

31 Transnistrian Republic

The easternmost part of the Moldovan Republic, located between the present Moldovan-Ukrainian border and the Dnestr river (Nistru in Romanian). Transnistria means 'The territory over the Nistru'; it is also referred to as 'Stanga Nistrului' in Romanian and 'Pridnestrove' in Russian. Being part or the Kingdom of Romania during the interwar period Bessarabia (Moldova) was annexed to the Soviet Union in August 1940 according to a secret closure of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. Parts of Bessarabia were incorporated into the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic ('Gagauzia', the very south of the province along with the Black Sea cost and the Danube delta) and the previously Soviet Transnistria was attached to the newly created 'Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic'. Transnistria has a Russian (and Ukrainian) speaking majority and a large Moldovan minority (43%). In 1989 Moldovan (a Romanian dialect) was declared the official language of Moldova and a unification with Romania was being considered. As a response the Russians and Ukrainians declared the independent Transnistrian Republic with Tiraspol as its capital on 2nd September 1990. Approximately 50,000 armed Moldovan nationalist volunteers went to Transnistria, where widespread violence was temporarily averted by the intervention of the Russian 14th Army. Negotiations in Moscow between the Transnistrians and the Moldovan government failed and it could not regain control over the seceding territory. Although an agreement was signed in 1994 to withdraw all the Russian troops from Transnistria, it was never ratified by the Russian Duma (Parliament). In 2004 the Moldovan government decided to create a blockade that would isolate the rebelling territory from the rest of the country. Transnistria retaliated by a series of actions meant to destabilize the economic situation in Moldova: since, during the Soviet times, most of the power plants in Moldova were built in Transnistria, this crisis generated power outages in parts of Moldova. Currently the OSCE are holding negotiations to resolve the situation.

32 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.

Tsylia Aguf

Tsylia Aguf
Kiev
Ukraine
Interviewer: Elena Zaslavskaya
Date of interview: November 2002

Tsylia Aguf is a nice charming lady. She is very sociable and active. She participates in a number of programs of Hesed. She has many friends and acquaintances. Most of them are of Jewish nationality. She must have been very pretty when she was young. She has pleasant memories about many of her admirers. She loves her children and grandchildren. She has a clean home, furnished with furniture from the 1960s. She has many books.

My grandparents on my father's side died long before I was born. All I know is that my grandfather, Ovsey Pekar, was born in the small town of Korostyshev [30 km from Zhytomir] in the 1870s. There were about 4,000 Jews in town. There were a few synagogues. There were also Ukrainian inhabitants. There were no nationality conflicts. Jews and Ukrainians supported each other. My grandfather owned a small food and haberdashery store. He spent a lot of time at work. He provided well for his family. They lived in a solid wooden house. My grandfather was religious. He went to the synagogue on Saturdays and celebrated all holidays.

My grandmother, Tsyvia Pekar, was born in Korostyshev in the early 1870s. She got married when she was young. She was a housewife. She was moderately religious, celebrated Sabbath and Jewish holidays. She didn't attend the synagogue. During rush hours she helped her husband in the store. My grandmother was killed by bandits in 1919 1. My father told me that they stunned her at the gate of her house, trying to remove her jewelry. My grandmother defended herself, and they began to hit her on the head. She died of the injuries. My grandfather couldn't bear the pain of the loss of her and died from an infarction ten days later.

My grandparents had five children: two sons and three daughters. They all left their parents' home when they were in their teens. They grew up as atheists and didn't observe any traditions.

My father's sister, Rachel Pekar, was born in Korostyshev in the early 1900s. She finished a Jewish grammar school there. After 1917 she lived in the town of Gostomel [20 km from Kiev]. There were only a few Jewish families in Gostomel. Rachel was a laborer at the Factory of Musical Instruments. She remained single. She perished in 1941 when the Germans occupied Gostomel.

My father's brother, Ilia Pekar, was born in Korostyshev in the middle of the 1900s. He finished cheder, Jewish grammar school and an accounting school in Kiev. He worked as an accountant in an office in Kiev. He was married but had no children. He died of cancer in the late 1930s and was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Kiev.

My father's second sister, Sarah Pekar, was born in Korostyshev in the late 1900s. She got married and moved to Zhytomir [150 km from Kiev]. There were many wealthy Jews in town at the time. There were a few synagogues, a Jewish hospital and Jewish stores. Jews were craftsmen and merchants. There were a few Jewish schools and a yeshivah in Zhytomir. Sarah's husband was a shoemaker. They both died in Zhytomir in the late 1930s. Sarah's daughter, Tsylia, lives in the US. I correspond with her.

My father's youngest sister, Rosa Pekar, was born in the early 1910s. She was born blind. She was short and pretty. She had wide-open blue eyes, and one couldn't tell that she was blind. She finished Russian secondary school in Korostyshev and graduated from the Pedagogical Institute in Kiev. She studied at the Postgraduate Philosophy Faculty. She read special books for blind people. Rosa lived in the hostel of Kiev University. She had a room of her own, which was unusual for the time. She kept her room very tidy. When she studied at the university, they provided a woman to read for her. After finishing her postgraduate course she became a lecturer of philosophy at the university. She had admirers, regardless of her blindness. Rosa perished in Babi Yar 2 in 1941. Our distant non-Jewish acquaintance took Rosa there by her hand. She bought her a loaf of bread and butter for the road and accompanied her without knowing that Rosa was destined to die there. She told us later how she died.

My father, Moisey Pekar, was born in Korostyshev in 1900. He finished cheder and a Jewish secondary school. He studied Hebrew and Yiddish. After the Revolution of 1917 the Soviet power expropriated my grandfather's store, and my father had to work to provide for his brother and sister. He finished an accounting school and left for Teterev, a small town near Kiev, located in a beautiful pine-wood. He got an accounting job at the logging facility owned by my mother's father. He met my mother while working in Teterev. My father was a very decent and honest man. He read many books in Russian and Yiddish. My grandfather on my mother's side, Khaim-Duvid Polischuk, was born in Radomyshl in 1879. Radomyshl was a small town in Kiev province [60 km from Kiev]. At the end of the 19th century there were about 7,000 Jews in town. There were several synagogues, Jewish shops and hospitals, Jewish schools for boys and girls and a yeshivah. Most of the Jewish families were wealthy. Jews were craftsmen and merchants. There were also Ukrainian inhabitants. The Jews and the Ukrainians got along well.

My grandfather finished cheder and a Jewish school in Radomyshl. He was a timber dealer. He was a very religious man. He prayed, observed all Jewish traditions and celebrated holidays.

Before the Revolution of 1917 my grandfather and his family moved to Teterev where he built a house. He started his own logging and timber business there. He believed that the woods near Teterev were better than in Radomyshl and that his trade would be more successful.

There was no Jewish community in Teterev and there was no synagogue. There were very few Jewish families in town, and my grandfather gathered a minyan, ten Jewish men, at his home. There were a few Jewish men from the surrounding villages besides those from Teterev. My grandfather had his tallit and tefillin on and said his prayer swaying to and fro. Other Jewish men followed him. On weekdays my grandfather wore his customary clothes. He didn't wear a hat. He only put a cap on to say a prayer.

Ukrainians liked my grandfather. They asked his advice in family disputes and educational issues like where to get a teacher for a child. Those who were illiterate often asked my grandfather to read letters for them and my grandfather always supported them. He was a very kind and wise man. In 1918- 1919, during the many pogroms 3 in the Jewish neighborhoods of Ukrainian towns, Ukrainian men guarded my grandfather's home and rescued him from bandits more than once.

My grandmother on my mother's side, Tatiana Pekar, nee Taibn, was born to a wealthy Jewish family in Stavishche, Kiev province, in 1880. The Jewish community numbered almost 4,000 Jews. There were several- synagogues and Jewish schools in town. Jews were mainly craftsmen and merchants.

My grandmother had teachers who taught her at home. She studied arithmetic, Yiddish and Hebrew. She could read and write in Yiddish and had a good conduct of Russian and Ukrainian. She was religious. She celebrated Jewish holidays, lit candles on Saturdays and celebrated Sabbath. She didn't wear a shawl or a wig. My grandmother and grandfather were very much in love with one another. He tenderly called his wife Feygl ['my little bird' in Yiddish]. He often asked conductors of passing trains to bring her olives or sweets from Kiev. On their way back they gave these things to my grandfather, and he generously tipped them. Any caprice of my grandmother was a must for my grandfather.

After the Revolution of 1917 my grandfather became the supervisor of a timber agency. He wasn't very enthusiastic about the revolutionary ideas of fraternity and equality of all people. He didn't become an atheist, either. My grandmother, on the other hand, was inspired by Lenin's idea of universal wealth that was about to come. She read Lenin's books in Russian.

My grandparents had seven daughters and a son. My mother's sister, Frania Polischuk, was born in Radomyshl in the middle of the 1890s. She finished a Russian grammar school in Kiev. She didn't work. She was very sickly and died in Kiev in the 1930s. She was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Kiev.

The next sister, Ida Grinberg [nee Polischuk], was born in Radomyshl in the late 1890s. She finished a Russian grammar school and a pedagogical school in Kiev. She was a teacher of natural sciences. She married Grigoriy Grinberg, a Jewish man, and they had three children: Sarah, Yasha and Milia. She divorced her husband and married a non-Jewish man, a former officer of the tsarist army. My grandfather disavowed Ida when he heard that she had married a non-Jew. Ida's marriage didn't last - her husband died. I remember Ida coming home after her non-Jewish husband passed away, approaching her father's bed, kneeling down and asking his forgiveness. My grandfather forgave her. Ida lived in Makarov, near Kiev, where she worked as a teacher at a secondary school in the last years of her life. She died in Makarov in the late 1930s.

My mother's other sisters, Rachel and Eidia Polischuk, were twins. They were born in Radomyshl in the middle of the 1900s. They finished a Russian grammar school and graduated from the Medical Institute in Kiev. During the war they were in evacuation in Kuibyshev where they got married. They stayed in Kuibyshev after the war and worked as doctors. They died in Kuibyshev in the middle of the 1970s. They were buried in the cemetery in Kuibyshev.

The next sister, Genia Verba [nee Polischuk], was born in Radomyshl in the early 1900s. She finished a Russian grammar school in Kiev. She got fond of revolutionary ideas and became the secretary of the district committee of the Communist Party in the small town of Monastyrishche [80 km from Kiev]. There were a few Jewish families in Monastyrishche, but there was no synagogue in town. Genia married Falik Verba, a devoted communist and party activist. They moved to Tbilisi [Georgia] in the middle of the 1930s. Genia died in the middle of the 1950s. She didn't have any children. I don't know where she was buried.

The youngest sister, Khinia Godik [nee Polischuk], was born in Radomyshl in the early 1900s. She finished a Russian grammar school in Kiev and graduated from the Medical Institute in Kharkov. She became a pharmacist. She married Boris Godik, a Jewish man. He perished during the Great Patriotic War 4. During the war Khinia was in evacuation in Ufa [2,500 km from Kiev], where she stayed after the war. She died there in the 1970s. She was buried in the town cemetery.

My mother's brother, Dmitriy Polischuk, went to cheder and then finished a Russian grammar school in Kiev. He graduated from the Medical Institute in Kiev. During the Great Patriotic War he was a doctor in hospitals. At the end of the war he held the rank of a colonel of medical services, and as of 1946 he was the director of the hospital in Novograd-Volynskiy. In the 1960s he got a job assignment in Ufa where he died in the 1970s. I don't know where he was buried. His son, Tsalia Polischuk, a student of the Kiev Medical University, perished near Leningrad during the Great Patriotic War.

My mother's sisters and brother and their families tried to observe Jewish traditions. They weren't deeply religious and didn't go to the synagogue, but they never forgot that they were Jewish. They had matzah on Pesach, didn't eat pork and didn't mix meat and dairy products, although they didn't follow the kashrut laws [strictly].

My mother, Esphir Pekar [nee Polischuk], was born in Radomyshl in 1900. She came from a wealthy family and she got an opportunity to finish Russian grammar school in Kiev. She told me that she was a pretty girl. When she was 10-12 years old, she collected money for a charity for children's homes with the son of the director of the grammar school. They had a poster with an appeal to contribute money for children's homes and collected contributions on trains. This boy was my mother's first love.

My mother didn't continue her education. In 1920 she met one of her father's employees. They liked each other, but they came from different social layers. He was a clerk, and she was the daughter of a business owner. That stood in the way of their marriage. They were meeting secretly. When my grandfather understood that my father had serious intentions he gave his consent to their marriage.

My parents got married in Teterev in 1920. They had a rich traditional Jewish wedding with a chuppah and klezmer musicians. After the wedding the young couple moved to Kiev where my mother's older sisters lived and worked. They rented an apartment in the center of the city. My father got a job as an accountant in an office, and my mother became a housewife.

I was born in Kiev in 1921, and my sister, Maria, was born in 1923. My parents lived in Kiev for five years. They didn't quite like living in a big city. My mother's father also wanted them to move to Teterev. We moved there in 1925. My father got a job as a forester. My grandfather built a spacious house for us with eight rooms and nice furniture. There was a children's room, a living room and a study for my father in the house. We had big rubber plants in the living room. Our house and my grandfather's house were close to each other. My first impression of Teterev were geese. There were so many of them walking across the town and hissing at people.

My grandfather was a deeply religious man, and he cared about traditions a lot. He didn't want Jews to forget their identity and follow the slogans of the Bolsheviks about the elimination of religion. Jewish men used to come to my grandfather's house for Sabbath prayer. If there were less than ten men, my grandfather asked my father to attend their prayer, although my father was a convinced atheist. My father used to sit there reading his newspaper while the others were saying their prayer.

Once I got into the room during a prayer and tied together the tassels of the tallitim. The men didn't notice anything. Only when the prayer was over and it was time for them to go home did they find out that they were tied together. My grandfather was terribly angry with me - for the first and last time in my life.

I have no memories about Sabbath. I think we didn't have a festive dinner on Sabbath. Praying was the most important for my grandfather.

I remember how we prepared to celebrate Pesach. At first we did a general clean up of the house making sure that there were no breadcrumbs left in the house. Then flour was delivered to the house, and we began to make matzah. Jews from all the neighboring settlements came to make matzah at my grandfather's house. My grandmother and other women made the dough for the matzah. To eliminate any doubt about the kashrut of the matzah a baker came from Kiev. He rolled out the dough and put it into the oven. We didn't eat bread for a whole week during Pesach.

Before Pesach we took special fancy dishes and kitchen utensils from the attic and put our casual utensils in the attic. If there weren't enough utensils everyday ones were taken to a pit with boiling water in the yard. There was a hot stone in the pit to keep the water hot. Forks and spoons were tied together with a rope before they were put into the pit. Forks and spoons and other utensils were put into the pit to be kosher for the use on Pesach. My mother's sisters, her brother and their families came to the first seder from Kiev. During the seder we were leaning against pillows according to the tradition like free people, not slaves. [Editor's note: all these ritual are written down in the Haggadah.] My grandfather, who sat at the head of the table wearing a tuxedo, conducted the seder and said prayers.

My duty was to ask the four questions about the traditions of this holiday during seder. I knew them by heart, and when the time came I recited them in Yiddish. There was a saucer with some matzah covered with a white napkin on the table. I was supposed to hide it. The one who found it had to give me ransom. I liked all these processes. I hid the saucer with matzah somewhere safe and enjoyed watching the others searching for it. Someone found it and I received a little money [Editor's note: this tradition generally goes inversely: an adult hides the matzah, called afikoman, and if a child finds it he gets some present.] After the official seder ceremony, when people at the table recalled the history of the exodus of the Jews from Egypt, and ate a bit of meat, bitter greeneries, and a piece of boiled egg, the feast began. There was Gefilte fish, sweet and sour stew and dishes made of matzah flour on the table. I was so small that that's all I remember about it.

I also have some memories of the celebration of Chanukkah in our house. I remember my grandmother and mother lighting the Chanukkah candles, saying short Chanukkah prayers and singing special songs. It was also good to receive some money on Chanukkah. I could buy something for this money. Once I bought sweaters for my sister and me. My grandmother always made pancakes with geese fat on Chanukkah.

On Yom Kippur the whole family fasted and remembered the deceased relatives. My grandmother and grandfather went to the cemetery to recite the Kaddish.

During the week we had bean soup with meat, baked potatoes and boiled beans, marinated beetroots and red borsch and sauerkraut. We mostly had chicken that we took to a shochet, who lived nearby, to have it slaughtered. We also ate rabbits. [Editor's note: rabbits are not kosher meat, but this food was customary for the family.] Chicken meat had to be soaked in water for two hours and kept in salt for another two hours to get rid of all the blood. After this the meat became kosher and could be cooked.

In winter we sometimes had a slice of pork fat - it was considered to be very good for us. Pork fat was kept separate from all the other food to follow the kashrut rules. There was also a special plate for slices of fat. Pork fat was supposed to give you much energy and helped us to keep ourselves warm in cold weather. A small slice of pork was quite sufficient to stay healthier.

There was no kindergarten in Teterev. My mother taught me to read and write before I went to school. We also learned poems by heart. My mother knew many poems by Russian and Ukrainian poets. My mother was also fond of singing and often sang a sad song about Beilis 5 in Russian. I can still remember the lyrics. In 1928 my younger sister, Asia, was born, and I became her baby sitter.

I was my grandparents' favorite. They spoiled me a lot. I always got the best presents like an expensive sweater, pants or a toy, on holidays and the most money on Chanukkah. I had many toys and many dolls. I never had to clean the house. My grandfather told me to ask my younger sister Manya to do it. I was cuddled and didn't have set chores about the house. Manya dusted rugs in the hallway. However, I was a good girl and tried to do many things myself. My grandfather tenderly called me 'goat', probably because I was rather restless. I loved to jump up and kiss him on the bald patch of his beard.

I went to primary school in Teterev in 1928. There were two classrooms in our school, one for the 1st and 3rd forms and another one for the 2nd and 4th forms. We had two teachers: Alexei Romanovich and Ludmila Mikhailovna. They were married. I didn't like them, because they punished me. Once I got hungry during the class and decided to eat an apple. They made me eat my apple in front of the class to punish me for the violation of discipline. I could never forget that. There were actually no Jews in Teterev. I was the only Jewish pupil in my class. But I didn't face any anti-Semitism.

The 1930s were very difficult. [The interviewee refers to the Ukrainian famine.] 6 We had to stand in lines near the only small store in Teterev for hours and hours hoping to get some bread. Sometimes we managed to buy grain wastes to make bread ourselves. Our main food was potato peels. In spring 1932 my mother got a job as a guard of carrot fields in the neighboring collective farm. She used to bring a few carrots home. Carrots supported us a little bit.

I was rather spoiled and refused junk food. I got swollen up from hunger. In summer 1933 my mother's sister, Genia, came to visit us. She didn't have any children. When she saw my condition she took me with her. I went to the primary school in Monastyrishche. I believe, I was the only Jew in my class, but I got along well with the other children and didn't face any anti-Semitism. My aunt bought me homemade riazhanka [yogurt] at the market every day. It was a luxury for the time, but my aunt had a good income and could afford it. Once thieves broke into our house. They stole two herrings that my aunt received in her party food package. My most horrific memory from that time was a jellied meat dish made from the flesh of a child. My aunt took me to a party meeting where some people brought this dish to. It turned out that a woman from a village had slaughtered her stepson and cooked the meat. I remember how horrified I was. Of course things like this were criminal, but people went crazy from starvation. She did it when she was not quite herself, and she was taken to a mental hospital after.

There was a road leading to the cemetery in Monastyrishche not far from our house. Every day villagers took their deceased relatives, who had starved to death, to the cemetery. I used to go for walks in Monastyrishche by myself. Once I was followed by a man with a knife. I hardly managed to hide behind my aunt's gate. I ran fast and that rescued me from that man. Very often people were losing their mind from hunger. After this incident my aunt took me back to Teterev as it became dangerous to stay in Monastyrishche.

In 1933 the Bolsheviks took away the house built by my grandfather. We moved to Zhytomir where my father's sister Sarah lived. After we moved we didn't celebrate any Jewish traditions. We studied in Jewish schools, and our mother was more concerned about providing for us than traditions. The only difference between Jewish and other schools at that time was the language of teaching. We studied the same subjects and this school was similar to any other Ukrainian or Russian school. Our father fell ill with encephalitis. He was paralyzed and our mother had to take care of the family. I became responsible for all the housekeeping. My sister Manya looked after our house. My mother worked as a cashier at a barber's in Zhytomir, and later she went to work at a lemonade factory. She washed bottles there. She got a very low salary for it. To help my mother provide for the family, I also went to work at the factory part time, filling bottles with lemonade.

My mother's sisters came to visit us in 1935. They decided that it would be better for the children to be in a children's home. But when they told my mother about their idea her face got distorted at the thought. My mother fell ill and had to go to hospital. She recovered from her shock, but her face remained distorted. The children stayed with the family.

I enjoyed studying at school. I was an easy-going and sociable girl. I became a pioneer and then a Komsomol 7 member. All children joined the Komsomol league, and I just followed the common procedure. I didn't take part in any public activities. I liked dancing and acting. I had many non- Jewish friends. We spent a lot of time together. Once they took me to the night service at a Christian church. It was a beautiful service, but I got tired of standing for such long hours. I didn't feel remorse for going to a church. It didn't even occur to me that I was doing something wrong. I was a pretty girl and played main parts in our school performances. I enjoyed acting very much.

The period of the Stalinist repression [the Great Terror] 8 didn't affect our family. We didn't discuss this subject in the family. My mother and father were very ill and there was nobody else to discuss it with. I only remember how my grandmother's lips trembled when she pronounced the name of Stalin. She hated him, but she never explained the reasons to us, and we were too young to ask.

In 1937 my father died in a hospital in Kiev where he was brought to by my mother's sisters. My father was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Kiev. It was a huge loss to me, although we knew that he was severely ill and death was only a matter of time. After my father died a Jewish man began to court my mother. I don't remember his name. If it hadn't been for me my mother would have married him. I couldn't imagine another man to take my father's place. I cried a few nights in a row, and my mother didn't dare to start living with him.

I often went to dancing parties. My mother was concerned about me and always chaperoned me there. Young men that wanted to invite me to dance had to ask her permission. It was okay with me. I felt protected, and when I didn't like a young man, I could always refer to my mother's presence. I had admirers. I remember a Korean man, Venia Kim, kissing me for the first time. A studio was shooting a film in Teterev. There were a few Korean actors there. One of them asked me whether he could escort me home. He kissed me good-bye and I felt so ashamed. At home I took different cups of tableware. I covered my eyes with them until I forgot about the incident. Venia Kim wrote me letters for a long time.

I finished school in 1937 and entered the Faculty of Philosophy at the Kiev Pedagogical Institute. I actually wanted to become an actress, but my father said once that one had to be exceptionally talented to become an actor. He didn't believe I was particularly gifted, and I couldn't do anything against his will. He had great influence on me.

I lived in a hostel in Kiev. There were four of us in a room. We got along very well. We didn't have enough food and scrubbed our pockets for a few kopecks to buy half a loaf of bread. When we got a stipend we bought khalva [oriental sweet mass]. We couldn't afford to buy tea. Sometimes in summer we bought a watermelon. We locked our room so nobody would come in and eat the watermelon. I fainted from hunger in class several times. I gave Russian lessons to earn some money. I received 80 rubles, which was hardly enough to buy bread.

I was the Komsomol leader of my group at the Institute and later I became a member of the Komsomol bureau of the Institute. One summer I was awarded a trip to Alushta [resort at the South coast of the Crimea]. I traveled by train for the first time in my life. I have the brightest memory of the beach divided into two parts: one for men and another one for women. It had nothing to do with religious rules. There were people of different nationalities. It was because holiday makers were nude on the beach and that's why there were separate beaches for men and women. My acquaintances tried to convince me to drop any prejudices and take off my clothes, but I couldn't - this was the way I was brought up. We could lie in the sun and bathe nude, but I didn't dare. I wore a black swimming suit.

I had many admirers at the Institute. I didn't have a problem of meeting young people, but I didn't quite know who I needed. I met my future husband at a party at the Institute. His name was Mark Aguf, and he was a Jew. He was a student at the Faculty of Architecture at the Kiev Art Institute. He fell in love with me.

In June 1941 I went to work as a pioneer leader at a pioneer camp in Vorzel, a small town near Kiev. I was there when the Great Patriotic War began on 22nd June 1941. I went back to Kiev. My husband-to-be insisted that I evacuated with him and his parents. I went with them without saying good-bye to my family and friends. I didn't have any luggage with me either. The train we took belonged to the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. My husband's father was a party official and got train tickets for the whole family. He joined the Territorial Army to defend Kiev. It was a comfortable train. It didn't stop or wasn't kept longer than necessary at stations, and we reached Kustanay in Northern Kazakhstan [2,500 km from Kiev] very soon. Kustanay was a small town populated with Kazakh people. There were no Jewish families in the town. Mark and I got married there. We had a civil ceremony and obtained our marriage certificate at a registry office.

My husband was born to a Jewish family in Kharkov in 1919. His father, Michael Aguf, was born in Lugansk, Eastern Ukraine, in 1888. His mother died when Michael was 3 years old. His father married another woman. He didn't get along with her. When my husband's father was young he got inspired by revolutionary ideas and joined the Communist Party. Before the Revolution of 1917, when he was 18, he was arrested on charge of undermining the tsarist regime and revolutionary activities. He was in jail for four years and then he was sent to exile in Siberia 9. After the revolution the Bolsheviks released him and he made a party career. In 1918 he began to work at the Central Committee of the Bolshevik Party located in Kharkov at that time. He married Elena Eskina, a Jewish woman, and their twin sons, Mark and Boris, were born in Kharkov in 1919.

My husband's mother was born in the small Jewish town of Stavishche, near Kiev, in the 1870s. There were about 1,500 Jewish families in this town. There were several synagogues and a Jewish school. Elena finished a Russian grammar school in Kiev and a high school for girls. She was a very intelligent woman. She didn't observe any Jewish traditions and didn't speak Yiddish.

In the middle of the 1920s Michael Aguf got a high official party position in Kiev. He was a very educated and intelligent man and soon became the secretary of the Union of Ukrainian Writers. His wife was an editor with a magazine. When they moved to Kiev they got a luxurious apartment in the building that belonged to the Union of Ukrainian Writers. There were polished parquet floors, expensive furniture and carpets in the apartment. They had a huge collection of books by Soviet and foreign writers. They didn't have any Jewish books and didn't observe any Jewish traditions. They spoke Russian.

My husband's twin brother, Boris Aguf, finished a Russian secondary school in Kiev. He studied at the Pedagogical Institute, went in for sports and wrote poems. He took part in the Finnish campaign in 1939 10. In 1941 he went to the front and perished. Any mentioning of his name caused pain to his relatives.

My husband finished a Russian secondary school in Kiev and entered the Faculty of Architecture at the Kiev Art Institute. By the time I met him he was a 4th year student.

The day after we got married he went to the military registry office to ask them to cancel his release from the service in the army that he had as a 5th year student of a higher educational institution. Within a week's time he went to the front. I was pregnant. I was very upset because I thought that it was untimely to have a baby. I carried heavy loads to terminate my pregnancy, but it didn't work. I gave birth to a strong healthy girl in Kustanay in 1942. I named her Victoria.

Our first winter in Kustanay was very cold and hard. We got a room in a wooden house where I lived with my husband's parents. Our landlords were Kazakh. They treated us very nicely and liked to play with my daughter. I didn't face any anti-Semitism during evacuation. In spring 1942 we received a cow from a local collective farm. We had to give milk to the collective farm, but we were allowed to keep some of it for our family. We also got a plot of land. There were stones on our land, but we cleaned it up and planted potatoes. Besides, we got a smaller plot of land 5 kilometers from our house where we were allowed to plant watermelons and pumpkins.

I got a job at the local newspaper, Stalin's Way. This newspaper was published six days a week and was very popular. It was published on a demy printing paper because there was no other paper in Kustanay. The newspaper published propaganda articles about the accomplishments of the Soviet people, and local news. I was a proof-reader and edited articles before they were published. I enjoyed this work. I worked with the newspaper until it was time for us to go back to Kiev in 1944. My mother-in-law looked after my daughter. We worked at night to have the newspaper published in the morning. During the day I could work on our field. On winter nights I was scared to walk in the darkness across the deserted town. I wore boots that some of our neighbors had given to me: one boot with a sharp tip and another one with a rounded one.

At the end of 1942 my father-in-law arrived. He had to leave Kiev on foot before the Germans entered the city. He walked 5 kilometers and then caught a train. He found a job in Kustanay. He became deputy manager for logistics supplies. This agency was responsible for food and good supplies to the town. My husband was at the Leningrad and, later, at the Northwestern fronts. He had the rank of First Sergeant. He was a courier at the headquarters. Once he had to deliver a report. When he left the tent of the headquarters a shell hit and destroyed it, killing everybody inside. My husband survived. He sent us letters with his poems and small paintings.

At the beginning of 1944 my father-in-law obtained a special permit required to return to Kiev. [Until the middle of 1944 Kiev was still closed for those who wanted to return from evacuation.] Postwar Kiev made a hard impression on me. I cried bitterly when I came to Kreschatik, its main thoroughfare, and saw it ruined.

A writer lived in the apartment that had belonged to my husband's parents before the war, and it seemed impossible to get him move out. We received a small room near the center of the town. There was a big stove and almost no furniture. Our neighbors gave us some old folding beds and chairs. The water piping was ruined and we had to fetch water from a well in another yard. We had no electricity and lit a kerosene lamp when it got dark. We made soup with semolina - that was our only food. We received bread by cards but had to stand in lines for many hours.

Another thing I remember from this time is the public execution of German captives in the main square of the city. Gallows were erected in the square. The condemned Germans were taken to the square on trucks. The soldiers that carried out the execution put a rope around the necks of the captives and the truck moved on. I had nightmares about this incident for a long time afterwards.

When we returned to Kiev I began to look for a job. I couldn't find any. I was openly told that I didn't have a chance to get a job with my Jewish name, Tsylia. Then, quite incidentally, I got a position as a human resource inspector in an office. This office hired workers to restore Kreschatik. I liked the job. We also received food packages. My colleagues treated me very nicely. Once they even came to help me chop wood. In the summer they once left a huge watermelon in my office for me. They also talked with our management, and I began to receive more food in my food packages: more bread, cereal and flour. Once a group of 10-12 German prisoners of war were sent to our office. I had to make a list of their names. I remembered German from school and went to the yard to write down their names. There were only Germans in the yard. They encircled me so tightly that I could feel their breathing. I got so scared that I almost fainted. Fortunately, one of our employees was coming across the yard. He took me by my hand and led me out of the circle. The Germans did all kinds of construction activities in our office, but I was never again sent to contact them.

My husband returned from the front in 1945. He was shell-shocked, and I took him to all kinds of doctors until he finally got better.

My mother, her sisters, my two sisters and my mother's parents were in evacuation in Kuibyshev during the Great Patriotic War. I have no information about their life there because I had left without even saying goodbye to them. Throughout the war we didn't hear from them and didn't know whether they were alive. Only after I returned to Kiev in 1945, did we receive a letter from my mother. It arrived at the hostel where I had lived before the war. My acquaintances, whom I met by chance, gave it to me. The letter said that they were alive, that everything was all right with them but that they weren't going to return to Kiev. My mother, my sisters and my grandparents stayed in Kuibyshev after the war.

I went to complete my studies at the Pedagogical Institute in Kiev in 1945, and my husband was in his 5th year at the Kiev Art Institute. I graduated from the Institute in 1947 and got a job in the Russian secondary school in the center of the city. I liked my job. I got along well with my colleagues, and the children's parents were satisfied with my work. My husband graduated from the Art Institute and became an architect with Kievproject, one of the leading design institutes in Kiev.

In 1948 the state of Israel was established. All of a sudden I had the feeling of getting a home and being protected. Those were the scary years of the campaign against cosmopolitans 11 or, to be more precise, of the height of state anti-Semitism. My husband's father began to have problems at his work with the Union of Ukrainian writers. He was accused of lack of love for his motherland and patriotism, although nobody could tell what this 'patriotism' was to be like. Such accusations were only made about Jews. We watched him very closely fearing that he might commit suicide. His ideals and belief in the fair communist society were scattered. At the beginning of 1953 Stalin died, and the process against my father-in-law stopped. On the occasion of Stalin's death I took my pupils to the meeting ground beside the school building. I was crying so heavily that I had to leave the meeting. I felt like something irremediable had happened.

My grandmother died of pneumonia in Kuibyshev in the late 1950s, and my grandfather passed away in 1960. They were buried in the town cemetery - there was no Jewish cemetery in Kuibyshev. I didn't go to the funeral. My mother and sisters notified me in a letter. I don't know if my grandparents observed traditions after the war. My mother and sisters didn't write anything about it in their letters.

Our son, Boris, was born in 1956. We didn't raise our children Jewish. Firstly because we weren't religious and secondly because religion was persecuted by the Soviet authorities. Our children studied in Russian schools. However, they always identified themselves as Jews. They knew about the tragedy of Babi Yar. We learnt about it right after we returned to Kiev from evacuation.

We lived in one room in a communal apartment with my in-laws for 14 years. We had guests on Soviet holidays and at birthday parties. They were Jewish guests for the most part. We discussed the situation in Israel and the status of Jews in the Soviet Union. We never celebrated Jewish holidays.

Our family received a two-bedroom apartment in Kreschatik in 1966. The same year my husband's father died, and his mother passed away in 1976. They were buried in the Jewish cemetery in Kiev. I was grieving over them. They were like mother and father to me. They cared for me a lot.

Our daughter, Victoria, finished a secondary school in 1968 and tried to enter the Kiev Polytechnical Institute. She passed her entrance exams but wasn't admitted. We realized that her Jewish nationality was the reason for their refusal to admit her. Victoria got a job at the Arsenal plant [a big military plant in Kiev that specialized in the production of optical devices]. After working at the plant for several years, she entered the Moscow Aviation Institute, where she studied by correspondence. She graduated as an optical tools specialist. She began to work at the design office of the same plant.

In the 1970s, when large numbers of Jews were leaving the country, my husband and I firmly decided to stay. We both enjoyed work. My husband wrote books on architecture and defended his thesis. Our daughter wanted to move, though. It was her dream to travel to Cyprus and Greece, and moving to Israel seemed to bring her a step closer to have her dream come true. Well, she got married in 1974 and a year later her son Michael was born, so she dropped the idea of moving to Israel. Victoria married a Jew named Zaretskiy, but she divorced him in 1976. I retired in 1975 to help my daughter look after her son. My grandson, Michael, graduated from the Kiev Medical Institute and works as a medical expert at the Ukrainian Ministry of Internal Affairs.

Our son, Boris, followed into his father's footsteps. After finishing school in 1974 he entered the Faculty of Architecture at the Kiev Art Institute and graduated from it with success. He married a very nice, though non-Jewish, girl. They have a daughter, Elena. She is a 4th year student at the Kiev Art Academy. They don't observe any Jewish traditions.

My mother died in Kuibyshev in 1971. She was a receptionist at the local polyclinic. I went to her funeral.

My sister, Manya, finished a secondary school in Kuibyshev and graduated from the Medical Institute in Novosibirsk. She got married and had a daughter, Tatiana. She was a doctor at a hospital in Novosibirsk. Manya's husband died in a train accident in the 1970s. Manya and her daughter moved to Israel in the 1990s. We correspond with them.

My younger sister, Asia, got married when she was 16. She had a daughter, Ludmila. Asia finished the Medical School in Kuibyshev and worked as a medical nurse at the local hospital. She is retired and lives in Kuibyshev now. She is divorced. Her husband left Asia for another woman.

My husband died in 1986. He was an outstanding architect and wrote many books on architecture. He died when he was working on his doctor's thesis. I married my old acquaintance, Leon Rubashevskiy, in 1992. His wife had died and he felt very lonely. We decided to live together. My second husband died in 2001. He was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Kiev.

In the early 1990s the USSR disintegrated. The Communist Party was dissolved. Neither my husband nor I were members of the Communist Party. We despised party activists because we believed that no talented person could get involved with party activities. I was very enthusiastic about the changes. It brought freedom of speech. One could speak his mind without fearing to be arrested for telling an anecdote that might be out of place. Even though the standards of living sank in the 1990s and prices went up, I wouldn't like the Soviet power to return.

However, I felt sorry about the disintegration of the Soviet Union. It's annoying that we are considered to be citizens of different countries when going to Russia to visit friends. Take the crossing of the border, for instance, where customs officers check your luggage looking for pieces of sausage or pork fat because there is a ban on taking food products out of Ukraine. That's something we are not used to, and I find it humiliating. I don't travel, but my children and friends face this problem.

I was very enthusiastic about the restoration of Jewish life in the 1990s. I take part in many activities. I worked as volunteer with Hesed for a long time. I'm one of the most active members of the intellectual club in Hesed and attend the Sholem Aleichem 12 Association in Kiev. Besides, I like to attend concerts and performances. I read Jewish newspapers published in Ukraine. I'm not leaving my country for Israel or any other place. My children and grandchildren want to stay here, and I cannot and do not want to live in another country.