My mother-in-law, who was illiterate, had a sparkle of genius. They came from a village on Ialomita Valley. She told me: ‘Look, you’ll send him to school this year, and I can tell he won’t study well, and you’ll beat him because he’ll upset you, and all the neighbors will tell him «She’s beating you because you were adopted».’ – ‘So what am I supposed to do?’ – ‘We’ll give you our house in Dorobanti,’ – which had gas – ‘and you’ll give us your place in Colentina’ – which my father had bought me with the money from the compensation, and which had stoves. They made this sacrifice for us and for that child. After living for 10 years in Colentina, I moved on Naum Ramniceanu St., where I stayed from 1958 until 1974, when the initial owner rightfully claimed his house back. I didn’t argue with him. Vasile’s parents were dead, so it was no problem for me to move back.
- Traditions 11756
- Language spoken 3019
- Identity 7808
- Description of town 2440
- Education, school 8506
- Economics 8772
- Work 11672
- Love & romance 4929
- Leisure/Social life 4159
- Antisemitism 4822
-
Major events (political and historical)
4256
- Armenian genocide 2
- Doctor's Plot (1953) 178
- Soviet invasion of Poland 31
- Siege of Leningrad 86
- The Six Day War 4
- Yom Kippur War 2
- Ataturk's death 5
- Balkan Wars (1912-1913) 35
- First Soviet-Finnish War 37
- Occupation of Czechoslovakia 1938 83
- Invasion of France 9
- Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact 65
- Varlik Vergisi (Wealth Tax) 36
- First World War (1914-1918) 216
- Spanish flu (1918-1920) 14
- Latvian War of Independence (1918-1920) 4
- The Great Depression (1929-1933) 20
- Hitler comes to power (1933) 127
- 151 Hospital 1
- Fire of Thessaloniki (1917) 9
- Greek Civil War (1946-49) 12
- Thessaloniki International Trade Fair 5
- Annexation of Bukovina to Romania (1918) 7
- Annexation of Northern Bukovina to the Soviet Union (1940) 19
- The German invasion of Poland (1939) 94
- Kishinev Pogrom (1903) 7
- Romanian Annexation of Bessarabia (1918) 25
- Returning of the Hungarian rule in Transylvania (1940-1944) 43
- Soviet Occupation of Bessarabia (1940) 59
- Second Vienna Dictate 27
- Estonian war of independence 3
- Warsaw Uprising 2
- Soviet occupation of the Balitc states (1940) 147
- Austrian Civil War (1934) 9
- Anschluss (1938) 71
- Collapse of Habsburg empire 3
- Dollfuß Regime 3
- Emigration to Vienna before WWII 36
- Kolkhoz 131
- KuK - Königlich und Kaiserlich 40
- Mineriade 1
- Post War Allied occupation 7
- Waldheim affair 5
- Trianon Peace Treaty 12
- NEP 56
- Russian Revolution 351
- Ukrainian Famine 199
- The Great Terror 283
- Perestroika 233
- 22nd June 1941 468
- Molotov's radio speech 115
- Victory Day 147
- Stalin's death 365
- Khrushchev's speech at 20th Congress 148
- KGB 62
- NKVD 153
- German occupation of Hungary (18-19 March 1944) 45
- Józef Pilsudski (until 1935) 33
- 1956 revolution 84
- Prague Spring (1968) 73
- 1989 change of regime 174
- Gomulka campaign (1968) 81
-
Holocaust
9685
- Holocaust (in general) 2789
- Concentration camp / Work camp 1235
- Mass shooting operations 337
- Ghetto 1183
- Death / extermination camp 647
- Deportation 1063
- Forced labor 791
- Flight 1410
- Hiding 594
- Resistance 121
- 1941 evacuations 866
- Novemberpogrom / Kristallnacht 34
- Eleftherias Square 10
- Kasztner group 1
- Pogrom in Iasi and the Death Train 21
- Sammelwohnungen 9
- Strohmann system 11
- Struma ship 17
- Life under occupation 803
- Yellow star house 72
- Protected house 15
- Arrow Cross ("nyilasok") 42
- Danube bank shots 6
- Kindertransport 26
- Schutzpass / false papers 95
- Warsaw Ghetto Uprising (1943) 24
- Warsaw Uprising (1944) 23
- Helpers 521
- Righteous Gentiles 269
- Returning home 1090
- Holocaust compensation 112
- Restitution 109
- Property (loss of property) 595
- Loss of loved ones 1724
- Trauma 1029
- Talking about what happened 1807
- Liberation 558
- Military 3322
- Politics 2640
-
Communism
4468
- Life in the Soviet Union/under Communism (in general) 2592
- Anti-communist resistance in general 63
- Nationalization under Communism 221
- Illegal communist movements 98
- Systematic demolitions under communism 45
- Communist holidays 311
- Sentiments about the communist rule 930
- Collectivization 94
- Experiences with state police 349
- Prison/Forced labor under communist/socialist rule 449
- Lack or violation of human and citizen rights 483
- Life after the change of the regime (1989) 493
- Israel / Palestine 2190
- Zionism 847
- Jewish Organizations 1200
Displaying 30631 - 30660 of 50826 results
Mira Tudor
![](/themes/custom/centro/flags/ro.svg)
They were simple people who lived in a house whose floor was the ground itself. They didn’t have any problem with the fact that I was a Jew, no way. We adopted Marcel. The Party gave them an apartment. They took them out of that poor house on Gherase Dr. – here, in Colentina –, and gave them a place in Dorobanti, in a house that wasn’t even nationalized, but simply seized. The owner was kicked out and Vasile’s parents got to move in.
Vasile’s parents had joined the Party in its underground days. They believed in communism. His father was a worker. There were nine children in their house – six girls and three boys.
19 years after I retired, I was awarded an honorary diploma for my contribution to the development of geology and geological education in Romania. It was very nice of them to remember me. At that time, I wasn’t doing very well financially, so I said: ‘What do I need a diploma for? They could have given me some money instead.’ But I admit that I was delighted to get it.
But the time when things got really nice was during the practical stages. It wasn’t just because of me; it was the entire staff who took part in this. We would take the students on a field trip for an entire month and I can tell you stories for hours and hours. In July we went to Maneciu Ungureni, on Teleajen Valley. We first took larger groups, of 15 students, and examined the area; then we took smaller groups, of 6-7 students, and drew the geological map of the region. So we started for zero and ended up sketching the geology of that area. When the month was over, the students had learnt what geology was all about. This technique had been conceived by professors Macovei and Murgeanu – we only learnt from them and passed it on to the students. I have no merit in this – I only did well what they taught me to do.
I could tell you many stories about my student days. God, so many things happened in Russia! My life was filled with events. Mr. Macovei ended up loving me. After I came back, he started calling me ‘Russian girl!’ Not Mira, not Tudor, not anything else. Even if we were in the corridor and there were students watching, he still called me ‘Russian girl’. I adored him too. He set the direction, to say so. When I came back from the USSR, I possessed three great disadvantages: I was a Party member, I was Jewish, and I had studied in Russia. I had to overcome these three handicaps. It took me more than one year or two. After four or five years, my colleagues finally realized what kind of person I was; and I started to enjoy some appreciation from the students too. Then my life continued in a nice way.
I spent 35 years in the same department, between 1948 and 1983. I think this says a lot. I didn’t have to change my workplace, I didn’t have any conflicts. I was the only Jew in the entire faculty. I didn’t try to hide it. It would have been foolish to pretend I was Romanian just because my husband was. They knew I was Jewish, but didn’t mind. Mr. Macovei was followed by another Academy member, Murgeanu, who loved me too. Then came the third head of the department, Theodor Joja; he also loved me. They were all fond of me, they protected me, and they prevented any tendency of anti-Semitic manifestations towards me. I couldn’t say they all loved Jews, because I would be lying. But if some of them were anti-Semites, I never felt it. I only had a problem once. The Romanian Geology lecture was free, and Mr. Joja said ‘Let’s give it to Mira Tudor’. It was a very difficult and rather boring lecture. In general, geology is not a fun subject. A lecturer – God forgive him, for I did – rose against this suggestion: ‘Why would she of all people hold the lecture on Romanian Geology?’ He meant that a Jew didn’t fit the profile. Poor Dragos had it coming – they all were against him. Ionel Motas, who was my assistant, told me about it: ‘Dragos had better swallowed his tongue than speak his mind.’ I held the lecture in honorable conditions.
I spent 35 years in the same department, between 1948 and 1983. I think this says a lot. I didn’t have to change my workplace, I didn’t have any conflicts. I was the only Jew in the entire faculty. I didn’t try to hide it. It would have been foolish to pretend I was Romanian just because my husband was. They knew I was Jewish, but didn’t mind. Mr. Macovei was followed by another Academy member, Murgeanu, who loved me too. Then came the third head of the department, Theodor Joja; he also loved me. They were all fond of me, they protected me, and they prevented any tendency of anti-Semitic manifestations towards me. I couldn’t say they all loved Jews, because I would be lying. But if some of them were anti-Semites, I never felt it. I only had a problem once. The Romanian Geology lecture was free, and Mr. Joja said ‘Let’s give it to Mira Tudor’. It was a very difficult and rather boring lecture. In general, geology is not a fun subject. A lecturer – God forgive him, for I did – rose against this suggestion: ‘Why would she of all people hold the lecture on Romanian Geology?’ He meant that a Jew didn’t fit the profile. Poor Dragos had it coming – they all were against him. Ionel Motas, who was my assistant, told me about it: ‘Dragos had better swallowed his tongue than speak his mind.’ I held the lecture in honorable conditions.
I came back with a post-graduate degree in Sciences. I studied very well there and got 10 at all the exams. They made me a lecturer right away. It was a terrible mistake, just terrible! I had no teaching experience whatsoever. Imagine showing up in front of an auditorium full of nasty students to lecture them… In fact, this is not that hard, because you do all the talking; but, during the practical classes, they ask you all sorts of questions and try to catch you off-guard. But I did like my father did: I didn’t pretend to know more than I knew. If I didn’t know the answer to a question, I told them honestly: ‘Look, I don’t know, but I’ll look it up, I’ll do some research, and I’ll tell you next time.’ They appreciated that. And I really told them things like ‘Dear, I never heard about this in my entire life.’ Frankly. They got to love me because we went on field trips. We spent a whole month on hills, valleys, under the rain, in the mud, under the sun. I was a communicative, optimistic, and cheerful nature, and I admit they became very fond of me. This spring I was invited to the 50th anniversary of a graduation class – I had just returned from the USSR when they were still in school. My point is that, after all these years, they could pretend they don’t know me when crossing me in the street. But they stop me and they are happy to see me. And this brings me an enormous satisfaction. Enormous!
It was nice in Russia, and going there was a good thing to do. After they invaded Romania [Ed. note: On 30th August 1944 the first Soviet units entered Bucharest. German resistance was eliminated on Prahova Valley, in Brasov, and in Dobrogea. Measures were taken to protect the western frontiers and to prevent possible Nazi advancements in Banat and southern Transylvania.], Romanians developed a fierce hatred for them, because of how they behaved… From my point of view, Russians brought us freedom of education, so I had nothing against them. A lot of Jews left the country at that time. But we belonged to the second echelon [as candidates for a scholarship to the USSR]. The people in Leningrad asked for two new names, because they still had two places to fill, according to the agreement [the other geologists had refused to go]. They had reserved two places for Geology, and they expected two people. This is how this girl, who was Jewish too, and I got to Leningrad. We lived in the same hostel with Paul Popescu Neveanu, a psychologist. The teacher of Russian made us study grammar a little bit, so that we could utter intelligible phrases. We understood each other very well, but the Russians had no idea what we said. She made us study with a teacher who was a nitwit. We read phrases from the abridged history of the Russian Communist Party. Popescu was a lady’s man, he was nice and full of energy: ‘How am I supposed to pick up a lady using words from the Party’s history?!’ He was so nice! He did a very good job after he returned to Romania. Milan Popovic was there too. He became the manager of CEC [The National Savings Bank] and changed his name to Mircea Popovici. He was a Serbian and I don’t know why he made that change. I remember many others. Saragea was the first manager of the Jewish home for the elderly.
Back in Ramnicu Valcea, we used to call the sleigh ‘tarlie’. We rode it on the Capela hill.
[In Russia] we weren’t allowed to leave the city. It was under Stalin’s regime. I finished before he died. Stalin died on 5th March 1953, and I came home in January 1953. All we were allowed to do was take the bus and go to a resort situated to the north of the city, similar to Baneasa [Ed. note: The Baneasa forest, located 10 kilometers away from Bucharest, is a recreation area in the vicinity of the capital. A special attraction is the zoo, with several hundreds species of animals.] We would ride the Finnish sleigh there. There was a chair on which one would sit. It had a back. The soles of the sleigh were long enough to make room for a second person to stand behind the chair. This person would push the sleigh, and then jump on it. I fell so many times!
Some of my fellow-students became great personalities after they came back. Many of them were ministers: Bujor Almasan (Ministry of Mines), Marinescu (Healthcare), Popescu (Forests or something like that). Some of them were rectors. They got very good positions when they returned.
I studied for 3 years in the Soviet Union. The University of Leningrad is called Twelve United Colleges. A very long corridor with auditoriums, labs, collections. It was very nice. I lived in a hostel, in a room of five. They put me amidst Russian girls. I couldn’t speak Russian at all. There were other Romanian girls there too, but in other colleges. One of them was Eva Ban, a student in History. Lili – I forgot her last name – was in History too, I think. We would have liked to live together and speak Romanian among us. But they didn’t let us. The Russian girls kept talking in Russian until they got the language in my head. I happen to have a certain degree of talent when it comes to foreign languages. And, out of despair, I had to learn it. I wrote a thesis in Russian. The Romanian State paid us – we had a good scholarship, we lived well, and the food at the canteen was all right. I got along well with the teaching staff. They appreciated the basic training I had acquired in college. I didn’t just go there like a total idiot. They helped me a lot. The professor who coordinated my thesis was very demanding. When I introduced myself I asked him if he spoke French. ‘Njet!’, he said. ‘German?’ – ‘Njet!’ I couldn’t speak any other language. I came back to my room and chatted with the Romanian girls: ‘Who has ever heard of such a nitwit? He’s a university professor, but he doesn’t speak any foreign language.’ This could not be said about our former professors in Romania, who did speak foreign languages. I later found out he spoke German better than I did. Russian is a language with a rather difficult grammar and tremendously rich. Its nuances can confuse you; add a prefix and the meaning of the word changes completely.
My husband and I were the only Party members [in my family].
Then there was the Geology Institute. I was in the first graduating class that also had girls. There were three of us. We studied well, of course. One of our professors was Ion Athanasiu. He looked at us as if we were little more than bugs! He was interested in the boys. When I entered college, exams were not on fixed dates. We could go to classes for years without passing one single exam; or we could pass as many as we felt like, whenever we felt like. When I got to the 3rd year, an order came to block the exams. If you hadn’t succeeded at 75% of the exams, you had to repeat the 1st or 2nd year. Thus, out of the 300 students admitted in the 1st year, only 9 reached the 4th year. So I finished college. What were they to do with us now? The boys were immediately assigned based on the professor’s recommendation. There was no committee in charge with this. Those who had studied well and had earned the professor’s trust were sent to the Geology Institute. As for us, the girls, he told every one of us: ‘What am I supposed to do with you, Miss? How will you go on the field?’ And we looked like three frightened chickens.
He sent one of the girls, Bebe Carnaru – may God rest her soul – to the Micropaleontology Department. There was only laboratory work to do, not field trips. As I was more energetic, he told me: ‘Go to Professor Macovei.’ He was the dean of the Romanian geologists and a member of the Academy. He could go to Gheorghiu-Dej [12] unannounced, and Gheorghiu-Dej stood up when he entered his office. This is the kind of prestige this man enjoyed! He wrote the first treatise on the geology of the oil deposits, published in France: ‘Les gisements de petrole (geologie, statisticque, economie)’ [‘The oil deposits (geology, statistics, economics)’]. He was a great professor of an extreme severeness – all the students dreaded him! ‘Go to Mr. Macovei and tell him I sent you.’ So I went. The others were amazed: ‘Who do you think you are to go to Macovei?’ I was already married. But I called Professor Macovei and told him Mrs. Mira Tudor would come to ask him whether he could find her some position, wherever he wanted, doing whatever he wanted; I told him I had been a good student and all. I knocked on his door; they didn’t have secretaries back then, so he answered himself: ‘Enter.’ He was short, but had a very strong torso. When he sat, he looked like a colossus. I stopped between the door jambs and didn’t make another step into the room. ‘Good afternoon, Professor.’ He looked at me. ‘What do you want?’ – ‘I am Mira Tudor. Professor Athanasiu told me to come to you.’ – ‘What? You’re Mrs. Mira Tudor? What, you’re married?’ – ‘Yes, Professor.’ – ‘And how old are you?’ – ‘Well, I’m 22; I finished college. I studied for four years.’ Then I thought he found me unappealing – I wasn’t too noticeable, I wasn’t pretty, and I hadn’t dressed up or anything. ‘What am I to do with you? I feel sorry for Jenica, who recommended you. What to do?’ He took the phone and talked to a professor, Pauca; he taught paleontology at the Institute of Geology and Mining Technology, and he also had a part-time job as the chief-geologist of the ‘Grigore Antipa’ Museum – this was possible back then. ‘Listen, Pauca, I’m sending you Mrs. Mira Tudor – but his voice showed that he was making fun of me – to work with you.’ The man asked him where. Macovei said ‘Put her at the collection, at Antipa.’
Mr. Pauca put a duster in my hand, and this is how I became a tutor, starting my career in higher education. I wiped the dust off those rocks for a long time. The geology section is in the basement; it’s very nice and very neatly organized. Eventually, Mr. Macovei remembered me: ‘How’s that girl?’ Pauca said: ‘Dusting the collection.’ – ‘Take her with you at the practical classes. Have her carry the trays,’ – the practical classes used samples of rocks – ‘maybe she got to know the rocks during all this time. Tell her to make you a collection for the Triassic, to see how she handles it.’ I was horrified the first time I entered the auditorium carrying the tray behind the professor. But he began to see that I was serious, that I worked well, I was interested and I liked it, so the next fall, after several geologists had refused to go to the Soviet Union for further specialization, I was the one who said yes. The offer had been turned down by two people before it reached me. I wasn’t sent to the USSR because I was a Party member. Those who had refused, Dragos Vasile and Ionel Motas, weren’t Party members.
He sent one of the girls, Bebe Carnaru – may God rest her soul – to the Micropaleontology Department. There was only laboratory work to do, not field trips. As I was more energetic, he told me: ‘Go to Professor Macovei.’ He was the dean of the Romanian geologists and a member of the Academy. He could go to Gheorghiu-Dej [12] unannounced, and Gheorghiu-Dej stood up when he entered his office. This is the kind of prestige this man enjoyed! He wrote the first treatise on the geology of the oil deposits, published in France: ‘Les gisements de petrole (geologie, statisticque, economie)’ [‘The oil deposits (geology, statistics, economics)’]. He was a great professor of an extreme severeness – all the students dreaded him! ‘Go to Mr. Macovei and tell him I sent you.’ So I went. The others were amazed: ‘Who do you think you are to go to Macovei?’ I was already married. But I called Professor Macovei and told him Mrs. Mira Tudor would come to ask him whether he could find her some position, wherever he wanted, doing whatever he wanted; I told him I had been a good student and all. I knocked on his door; they didn’t have secretaries back then, so he answered himself: ‘Enter.’ He was short, but had a very strong torso. When he sat, he looked like a colossus. I stopped between the door jambs and didn’t make another step into the room. ‘Good afternoon, Professor.’ He looked at me. ‘What do you want?’ – ‘I am Mira Tudor. Professor Athanasiu told me to come to you.’ – ‘What? You’re Mrs. Mira Tudor? What, you’re married?’ – ‘Yes, Professor.’ – ‘And how old are you?’ – ‘Well, I’m 22; I finished college. I studied for four years.’ Then I thought he found me unappealing – I wasn’t too noticeable, I wasn’t pretty, and I hadn’t dressed up or anything. ‘What am I to do with you? I feel sorry for Jenica, who recommended you. What to do?’ He took the phone and talked to a professor, Pauca; he taught paleontology at the Institute of Geology and Mining Technology, and he also had a part-time job as the chief-geologist of the ‘Grigore Antipa’ Museum – this was possible back then. ‘Listen, Pauca, I’m sending you Mrs. Mira Tudor – but his voice showed that he was making fun of me – to work with you.’ The man asked him where. Macovei said ‘Put her at the collection, at Antipa.’
Mr. Pauca put a duster in my hand, and this is how I became a tutor, starting my career in higher education. I wiped the dust off those rocks for a long time. The geology section is in the basement; it’s very nice and very neatly organized. Eventually, Mr. Macovei remembered me: ‘How’s that girl?’ Pauca said: ‘Dusting the collection.’ – ‘Take her with you at the practical classes. Have her carry the trays,’ – the practical classes used samples of rocks – ‘maybe she got to know the rocks during all this time. Tell her to make you a collection for the Triassic, to see how she handles it.’ I was horrified the first time I entered the auditorium carrying the tray behind the professor. But he began to see that I was serious, that I worked well, I was interested and I liked it, so the next fall, after several geologists had refused to go to the Soviet Union for further specialization, I was the one who said yes. The offer had been turned down by two people before it reached me. I wasn’t sent to the USSR because I was a Party member. Those who had refused, Dragos Vasile and Ionel Motas, weren’t Party members.
The Russians took oil from us by the tank – no arguing about that! The German war machine ran on Romanian oil. When we broke the alliance with the Germans, on 23rd August, we left them without oil, because none of their other allies had any. And it is absolutely true that this shortened the war with 6 months. And poor Paliuc launched the theory that the oil deposits were exhausted. He drew up a report to make the Russians stop stealing – stealing is what they were doing, because they demanded almost the entire oil production of the country! Someone denounced him and he was sentenced to hard years in prison because he had been a patriot and had tried to protect the country’s oil. This is how things went back then.
I entered college. I went to the Natural Sciences Faculty. There was no Geology Faculty in the beginning. When I got to the 3rd year, the Geology department was opened by a number of Natural Sciences graduates who had specialized in geology at oil companies abroad. We had an extraordinary corps of geologists; our oil geologists were even world class experts, like Gheorghe Paliuc, chief-geologist at Astra Romana.
I had been married for a year when my father finally realized Vasile was a good boy and that we loved each other. His greatest fear was that I would quit college and nothing good would come out of me. And he felt sorry for all my years spent in school, with brilliant results. So he bought me an apartment on Colentina Dr., very close to the Club [Ed. note: the Jewish Club in the Colentina neighborhood, on Ripiceni St., where members meet in order to spend their spare time together.], where I have been living since 1948 and where I hope I’ll die.
Most of the Jewish youths joined the Party while it was still underground. We persuaded one another. A classmate would disappear and come back after two weeks!
Romania
Right after the war, we joined a progressive organization and went to a camp in Cristian, near Sibiu. This is where I met Vasile. We spent a month there. We met and we stayed together for good. We waited for two years, because I was still underage, and I needed my parents’ approval to get married. So we waited. Since I married a Romanian, there was no religious ceremony.
Another misfortune which occurred at the beginning of the war was the fact that Jews were confiscated their radio sets. We shed bitter tears for ours. They only returned them to us after the war. I joined the Party because, in the fall of 1944, I had become a citizen with equal rights again. I was admitted to college. After I had been kicked out of my home and of the Romanian public schools, my education and my certificate were finally recognized. I passed the graduation exam in the summer of 1944. It started at 6 p.m., because the city was bombed during the day. There were many tests. But I was determined, and I got my certificate. When I took it to the University, at the Science Faculty, the clerk examined it and signed me up. It was then that I said to myself that a new regime had begun; a regime where all the citizens were equal. I didn’t want to be above the others, I just wanted things to be the way they were before the war, when we were seen as human beings. This is why I joined the Party, because I thought we owed them this. I did it out of conviction. I didn’t know they would send me to the USSR with a scholarship, and I had no idea there would be certain advantages for members.
Another misfortune which occurred at the beginning of the war was the fact that Jews were confiscated their radio sets. We shed bitter tears for ours. They only returned them to us after the war.
My chance came in 1944, when I finished high school and I passed the graduation exam. It was during the bombings. [Ed. note: As a result of the events of 23rd August 1944 – when Romania left the war against the Allies and joined them against Hitler – the Germans unleashed a general attack against Bucharest, on Hitler’s order. Between 24th and 28th August 1944, Bucharest, Prahova Valley and many other places in the country saw fierce fighting. By 28th August, the German resistance in Bucharest had been defeated.] I was always a good student. My father said that a bombing would catch me on my way from home to school. ‘To hell with the graduation exam, it’s no use to you anyway!’ – ‘Oh, come on, let me pass it!’ My results weren’t too bright – my average was 7.76 or so. To be honest, I hadn’t studied too hard, because I knew that certificate didn’t mean much. But I thought I’d pass the exam anyway. Shortly after, the truce of 23rd August [11] came, and Jews were once again admitted to public schools.
I went to the Jewish school in Bucharest, where I studied for four years, from the age of 15 to the age of 18. I got a prize – it’s on a nice piece of parchment and I still have it. So I first studied for four years in Ramnicu Valcea, I graduated there, then I went to secondary school at the Jewish High School in Bucharest [called ‘Cultura’] [10], between 1940 and 1944. Our graduation certificate was worthless, as the State didn’t recognize it. But the high school was approved by the State, and you can imagine the kind of money contributed by the [Jewish] Community to the Legionary State for all those children.
They submitted papers to leave for Israel and, after a while, they got the approval. Things moved slowly. Meanwhile, their house was demolished. But they were given a new place, although they had already applied for emigration. They didn’t leave them in the middle of the street. They demolished them, and gave them an apartment in the Dristor area. They were assigned a three-room apartment near the Izvorul Nou cemetery. Their street, Complexului St., bordered the cemetery’s wall. It was a nice place, at the third floor. They lived there for two more years, until they got their papers. They sold half of what there was to sell, and gave the other half to the neighbors. In January 1989, my sister, her daughter, her son-in-law, and her grandson left for Israel.
In 1944 she married a doctor, Iosif Rosman. They had a wedding at the temple, a beautiful wedding. Then there was a party at the ‘Cismigiu’ restaurant, on the avenue. I don’t know if that restaurant is still there – it was near ‘Gambrinus’.
My sister, Julieta, was a pianist. She went to the Conservatoire, but she didn’t do concerts. She was the pianist of the gymnastics team – this is what she did for a living. She was with them at the Munich Olympics, when the terrorists killed the Israeli delegation [Ed. note: On 5th September 1972, in the Olympic Village in Munich, 5 Arabian terrorists killed 11 Israeli athletes and a German policeman.] Panic spread to our delegation and they told her not to go out anymore. But they couldn’t have known that the pianist of the Romanian gymnastics team was Jewish, so she came back home safe and sound. She went to the Rome Olympics, to a competition in [North] Korea, to Poland many times, to Bulgaria – in all the socialist countries. She followed the team everywhere. She was also a corepetitor [Ed. note: Person who accompanies at the piano, at rehearsals or during concerts, recitals and performances, an instrumentalist, a dancer etc.].
We had two pianos. Here, in Bucharest, my father bought the second one using money from our dowry. It was a Bluthner, an extraordinary piano, a renowned brand. Our house was visited by Sergiu Comissiona [Sergiu Comissiona (1928-2005): Jewish conductor active in Romania, founder and conductor of the chamber orchestra of Ramat Gan (Israel). He settled in the US. After conducting numerous orchestras in America and Europe, he returned to Romania after 1989, where he conducted the ‘George Enescu’ Philharmonic Orchestra and the Symphonic Orchestra of the Radio Broadcasting Company in Bucharest.], who was a 13-year-old boy studying at the ‘[Alberto] della Pergola’ Jewish Conservatoire, and by many others who also went to the Conservatoire, like Julien Musafia. Watching them, I acquired my musical education. This is what they did. When concerts were held at the Baraseum theater [the building of the Jewish State Theater] [8], the soloist had his piano, while the part of the orchestra was played by a second pianist, using the other piano. This thing is done. Sergiu Comissiona, who is now a world class conductor, was the boy of a very rich banker. Although we were in a war, he wore lacquer shoes. Dan Mizrahy [Dan Mizrahy (n. 1926): concert pianist with a refined perception of the musical styles (Bach, Gershwin etc.). He was also interviewed by Centropa.] came too. He is now very old, but he was a great concert pianist specialized in Gershwin. He is the best Gershwin performer of all times in Romania. Mizrahi is a Spanish Jew too. Julien Musafia is a Spanish Jew too. Then there was Mandru Katz [Ed. note: Mandru Katz (1928-1978): He became well known after the war. He is the representative of a Romanian piano school led by Florica Musicescu. He continued his career in Israel, after he emigrated.]. I think Katz died. He was a Moldavian boy as poor as a church mouse and a great teacher from the Romanian Conservatoire heard him play. Her name was Musicescu; she bought him a piano. He placed a piano in the middle of their cottage. It was unbelievable! He had a great career, but he died at a relatively young age. I don’t know what happened to him. His name was Mandru Katz. He later got himself another name, but this is the only one I can remember.
During the war, all our friends were Jews. After the war, we also had Romanian friends. The houses had courtyards and 10-12 of us would gather there to chat and laugh – we were kids. After the war, the Jewish children didn’t keep in touch, because we all went to different colleges and met new people. We didn’t visit one another anymore. During the war, we saw one another very often. We weren’t allowed to go to the pool. Tineretului Park had a big sign: ‘Jidanii [offensive word for Jews] and dogs not allowed to the pool’. We couldn’t even go to the pool during the war. We didn’t go anywhere, and I think we wouldn’t have been allowed to anyway. We spent most of our time at home. Sometimes we went to the Herastrau Lake and took a boat. No one there asked us if we were Jews. But there was no way they would have let us to the pool.
My sister and I started to give lessons during the war. I taught French and German from the age of 16, starting from 1942. My sister gave piano lessons and thus we provided for ourselves. Yes, we stopped asking money from our father. Of course, we still lived at home, and ate what our father brought, but you know very well how many other things a girl needs. I once asked him for money to go to the opera, and that made him mad: ‘If I could live to be 50 without going to the opera, why would you need to go?
A cousin of ours – his niece – left to America and sent him parcels from time to time. He got them by mail and sold what was inside. The neighbors knew he got parcels. He would spread the word and they would come to buy things. This is how he survived.