We weren’t rich. My [paternal] grandfather helped as long as he lived, because he had the means. But there wasn’t one man my father didn’t help when help was needed, there wasn’t one man or one woman he didn’t attend at the wedding when he was asked to – we, the Jews, consider it an act of great generosity to attend someone at his or her wedding. ‘Mr. Rosenberg, my daughter’s getting married and I need a second nas [each of the persons who attend the groom and the bride at the religious ceremony and are asked to perform the tasks required by the Christian ritual]…’ We always have two nasi at a Jewish wedding. [Ed. note: Usually, there aren’t any nasi at a Jewish wedding. In this particular case, it is probably a Christian influence.] ‘So wouldn’t you like to…’ – ‘All right.’ And my father would come home and tell my mother: ‘We’re going to be nasi again.’ – ‘Again? Get out of here!’ – ‘Well, what was I supposed to do, I couldn’t say no. The man came to me and I couldn’t turn him down. You can’t just make someone feel bad like that.’ Also, when a boy was born, the fathers would come to my mother to ask for permission to name their sons after my maternal grandfather, who lived to be 94 [died in 1949]. And they would go: ‘Mrs. Rosenberg, if it’s a boy, will it be all right if I name him after your father?’ It was said to bring good luck, because the man was so old. And, of course, my father would be present at the baptism with a nice present, and things like that.
- 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 30721 - 30750 of 50826 results
Estera Sava
![](/themes/custom/centro/flags/ro.svg)
As for religion, she wasn’t a bigot. Sure, she observed the Jewish rules, kept a kosher kitchen – that was out of the question –, but she wasn’t a bigot. My father wasn’t too religious either, why not admit it? He was an earnest and decent man, who observed certain precepts; for instance, he helped sick people or destitute girls who were getting married. He did a lot of good, he helped anyone he could, but he wasn’t devout. He went to the temple, that’s true, but he wasn’t a bigot, like my [paternal] grandfather.
[After World War I] my father worked for a lumber enterprise in Tisita, Vrancea County. At the time of my birth [in 1921], he owned a store in Nadesti, then in Nadisa. It was a small store and it was run by my father alone, without any other employees. He sold everything. He later worked as a clerk for the Singer sales office in Bacau – you know, the Singer sewing machines.
Then my father went to war in 1916 [Ed. note: the year when Romania joined World War I] and he caught the typhus. Poor him, he suffered so much! I hadn’t been born yet, but my mother told me where he got the disease – it was somewhere around Targu Ocna or Onesti, there’s another place there, but I forgot its name. This man in his company was from Valea Rea, my mother’s place, and he came home one night, as there were only some 20 kilometers to go, he dropped by my mother’s and told her: ‘Your man has the typhus and he’s lying in a ditch. And there’s a lieutenant there, a pig from Oltenia, who was kicking him with his boot and asking him «Hey, jidane [Romanian slang for Jew], you’re playing tricks with me? Pretending you’re sick?» So you must hurry, because, if you don’t, you’ll lose him.’ At that time, in 1916, the place was filled with Russians, who had got as far as… I don’t know; here, in Wallachia, there were the Germans! My mother took one of her brothers, went to my father’s company, and found him there. He was sick indeed. My mother was beautiful, extremely beautiful! When they took my father to the infirmary, they removed his personal effects; a picture of my mother was among them, in his pocket. When my mother came in through the gate of that place, the lieutenant was sitting at a table; he immediately pulled the drawer. She got closer and she said ‘I am the wife of Oisie Rosenberg’. The man took out the picture and asked ‘Is this you?’ – ‘Yes, this is me.’ He got a little nervous because he realized someone had told her what was happening and made her come. He told her something and he quickly called for a sentry to escort her to where my father was. She wasn’t supposed to get anywhere near that room. So she spoke with the medical orderly and with the doctor, she arranged for a woman to bring my father milk and to take care of him, because the place was 20 kilometers away from Valea Rea [she couldn’t go there all the time]. When she came for the second time, she had to sleep over. The lieutenant asked her ‘Where are you going to sleep tonight?’ – ‘I don’t know where I’ll sleep, I’ll look around, ask these people.’ He said ‘I’ll let you use my room’ – ‘Why would you let me have your room? I’ll go sleep somewhere else.’ – ‘It’s all right, I’ll go sleep in a comrade’s quarters.’ However, during the night, he came to her! But he was a gentleman. My mother saw the door open and jumped off the bed. Back then, doors didn’t have lockers. And the lieutenant told her ‘Relax, I’m only here to check if you’re satisfied with the accommodation.’ My mother kept coming there. At some point, they allowed my father to come to the window. The first time he saw her from there, he didn’t recognize her! But my mother didn’t recognize him either, because he had a beard and he was sick! So when he came to the window, not knowing who the woman was, he reached out for her, but my mother stepped back. She then spoke with the doctor again and they shaved my father and got him cleaned up. Anyway, it was because of the typhus that my father returned home weakened and with many missing teeth. When he started to feel better, my mother would go and chat with him. But, in any case, my father didn’t have an easy time during the war.
They had a civil ceremony and a religious one, before the rabbi, under the chuppah. The wedding was held in Valea Rea and it was a very beautiful one, as you can easily imagine if you take into account the fact that my grandmother was a butcher. All my father’s relatives on his mother’s side lived in Bucharest. And they came all the way to Valea Rea. Can you imagine? From Bucharest to Valea Rea! [Ed. note: approximately 300 kilometers] They were very elegant, very stylish, and they were impressed with the food that was served to them.
I got married at the age of 16 [in 1938]. My husband had been assigned to work in Bacau. After he met me, he said he wouldn’t leave that place without me. He wasn’t a Jew, he was a Christian-Orthodox. When I married him, my maternal grandfather went like this: ‘Bring her back to us or else!’ But the paternal grandfather, who was a former community president, said: ‘Why should he bring her back? He loves her and she loves him; there’s no point in separating them. It would be a crime to do that, a crime.’ Well, my paternal grandfather was a very intelligent man.
I never concealed the fact that I was Jewish. Everyone knew about it. Before the Persecutions, I never experienced any anti-Semitism. I couldn’t say that, before the war, I felt there was a difference between the Romanians and the Jews. We, the children of the neighborhood, got together and played without paying attention to such things. Things were very nice before the Persecutions. Life was peaceful and beautiful. Jews and Romanians got along very well and partied together on New Year’s Eve [1st January], on Christmas, on Purim. They came to our places and we went to theirs and we did everything together! We didn’t have a Christmas tree with presents; we only gave presents on Chanukkah.
I can’t remember how old I was when I first traveled by train, but it was before I got married. I think I was 13 or 14. I went to Buhusi, where I had been invited by the parents of a friend of mine [a Romanian girl]. She had come to Bacau, visiting some acquaintances of hers who lived in our neighborhood. She met me and she felt very close to me, so she insisted that I come to Buhusi the day there was a fair there – this was a major distraction. ‘You must come’, she said. So I went. This is when I first took the train [Ed. note: The distance from Bacau to Buhusi is 24 kilometers.]. I had traveled by bus before, when going to my grandfather’s.
We didn’t have trips or summer camps back then. We didn’t go anywhere in our vacations! Or, if we did, we only went to our maternal grandparents. I liked it over there and I was eager to go. Although my grandmother was dead, my aunt still lived there.
On 10th May [4], I went to the parade wearing a traditional costume. What a beautiful parade that was! There was this colonel, the head of the Garrison, and he had a white horse which he rode during the parade. It was very nice and I looked forward to that parade every year.
I had some Jewish friends, but most of my friends were Romanians. Those girls were classmates and neighbors of mine. Do you know how social life was organized back then? According to neighborhoods! For instance, the adults from the same neighborhood hardly knew one another and greeted one another with ‘Good afternoon, how are you?’ and things like that. But their children were closer to one another, they were friends. We went to name anniversaries and other parties; in a way, the neighborhood life was similar to that in today’s apartment houses. My friends came over to my place; we would chat, laugh, tell jokes, play the gramophone and dance. My maternal grandfather, may God forgive him, loved to see us dance! Whenever he came by, he’d go: ‘Come on, call Banci, Stefi and this, and that, and let’s see you dance a little; do it for Grandpa!’ He enjoyed watching us dance. When we, the girls, got together, we would go to the confectioner’s or we would take a walk. At 4 kilometers away from Bacau, there’s a village called Gheresti. It had a beautiful forest with a park. In the summer, the town hall organized field parties there. My friends and I used to go alone, without our parents. We also went to the ceremonies dedicated to the national holiday. I can’t remember the details, but I know we attended them. We danced and had a good time. The town hall also organized balls; you needed an invitation to attend them. I only got to go to one ball or two, because I got married at such an early age. I was accompanied by my mother and I got a lot of invitations to dance. I was always a good dancer, and, when you’re a good dancer, you get invited a lot.
I wasn’t an idiot at all, but my parents made me quit school. The Persecutions were drawing near, and times were hard for us, because my sister was studying abroad, and my brother needed financial support too. So my parents made me quit after I had gone to high school for two years or so. The teacher of Romanian came to our place and told my father: ‘Sir, you’re committing a crime if you stop this girl from continuing her education!’ And my father replied: ‘Mister …,’ – I forgot the teacher’s name – ‘I have no choice; my financial situation won’t let me do otherwise. She has to stay home!’ So I never got to graduate from high school, and I got married at a very early age, 16.
I never had problems with my teachers. Our elementary school teacher was a very special lady. She was strict, but I loved her very much. I remember I once met her in some doctor’s waiting room – I was already married by then. She looked at me and asked me: ‘Is that you?’ – ‘Yes, it’s me, Mrs. Vasiliu!’ – ‘Why, look at you! I was wondering if I’d see you again before I’m gone!’ You see, I had got married and I had left our town… She was a very nice lady. I couldn’t think of any teacher whom I disliked. No way! Trust me: back in those days, elementary school teachers were real teachers, they were special persons. If a pupil was an idiot, it made no difference whether that pupil was a Jew or a Christian!
I never went to the kindergarten, as there was no such thing back then. I learnt a few things from my sister, who was five years older than I was. In those days, one wasn’t expected to learn to write before going to elementary school; even if you could write, you would still begin by drawing little lines and things like that. I went to elementary school in Bacau. It was an ordinary, public school. We began the day by reciting the [Christian] prayer [Our Father]. I loved history and geography, but I have no idea why! I didn’t get along well with math. As for Romanian, I loved to read; I have always loved to read! I don’t have talent for writing, my handwriting is bad, and I never liked the drawing classes. However, I drew beautiful maps for the geography classes. I never wondered what I was going to be when I’d grow up. My sister made up her mind while still a child: ‘I want to be a doctor!’ I have always been a motherly person. I like to cook, to make cakes, to knit.
We, the children, used to go to the temple on the high holidays. But only our parents went there on Sabbath. Actually, we went as long as we were pretty young. When we grew older, we stayed at home and played. Well, my mother wasn’t a bigot, like others, but we did observe all the holidays; that was the rule and there was no exception. We only ate poultry that had been slaughtered by the hakham. As for pork, my mother wouldn’t have it inside our house. While my father ate downtown once in a while – although his own father was really devout –, my mother didn’t.
We also rejoiced when the Pesach approached, because we ate special dishes then! The meals prepared for Pesach are different from all the meals that are served during the year! Before Pesach, we removed the ordinary tableware, carried it to the attic, and brought back the special one, which wasn’t chametz. During those eight Pesach days, the ordinary tableware wasn’t even in the house, it stayed in the attic! And the special tableware replaced it. The house was cleaned, matzah was bought, we ate according to the ritual and we observed the tradition.
Then there was Chanukkah, when children were given money – the Chanukkah gelt, as they call it.
My favorite holiday was Purim, because it’s the only happy holiday that we have. All the others are sad holidays. But on Purim, my mother would make a lot of cakes. We would share, we would celebrate, we would wear masks, we would call on people. My sister, who was older than me, would go to the balls that were organized. There was a ball of the Jewish Community, but it wasn’t held every year! I remember there was once a wedding on a Purim night, and my sister went there wearing a mask and a very elegant outfit, and she had a very good time. Yes, this was a holiday we looked forward to.
I observed the Yom Kippur. As a matter of fact, I have been observing it since the age of 14. My mother told me: ‘Sweetie, you’re still a kid, you’ll have enough time for fasting when you grow up.’ But I insisted on observing the holiday from the age of 14. Moreover, nowadays, if it’s an ordinary day and the time for a meal comes, I have to eat, otherwise I get a stomach ache; on the contrary, on a fasting day – we have four great fasting periods per year – I am not hungry at all. It’s in my blood. I can fast from 4 p.m. till the next afternoon and I don’t feel a thing.
Romania
We observed all the holidays. For instance, when the high holidays came, I remember we went to the temple, and then we came back, because, in the morning, one has to leave to the temple on an empty stomach. At about 10 a.m. there was a break, and people returned home and had some liqueur and a cookie. Then they went back to the temple. At 2 p.m., when the service was over, people had lunch. They gathered together – members of the family, brothers and sisters who were visiting – and they congratulated one another. Of course we loved the holidays, there’s no question about it.
There weren’t too many motor cars in those days. We had a horse carriage – that was the typical means of transportation Today, everyone’s got a car. Back then, cars were very rare. We only had one horse, which we kept in the stable near our house. My father was the one who took care of that horse. Every morning, he would currycomb it, give it water, and feed it. A horse wasn’t that expensive to keep. All you needed was food for it. Of course, not everyone could afford a horse carriage. But my father found it natural, because he had got used to it in his youth, while still living with his parents. And I loved that carriage; I even drove it! We didn’t use it too often though. My father took it once in a while, when he went out of town, to carry away or bring back all sorts of things.
My parents had friends, acquaintances, neighbors, and they called on one another quite often. But it wasn’t like it is today. Back then, life was much harder than it is now! Our family dined at the restaurant once in a while, and, two or three times every summer, we went to the park to eat mici [meat rolls usually made of minced beef that are spiced and grilled].
Our parents went to the theater or to the cinema from time to time; so did we, the children. There wasn’t a special theater for children, so we had to wait to grow a little older to go to the regular theater. Much later, a puppet theater was opened in Bacau, but we had already become adults – this happened during the Communist regime.
My mother always had servants. There was a permanent maid who helped her around the house. There were five of us and it was difficult for her to manage on her own. This girl wasn’t Jewish. She was a destitute orphan whom we had taken under our protection, as she had no place to stay – my father had found her in the street, crying. She was very upset, because she had no parents and the people with whom she had lived had kicked her out. It was autumn. She stayed with us until she got married! As for a nanny, we never had one.
This is how our house looked like. There was my brother’s room, my parents’ bedroom, the porch, and the girls’ room. From this room, we entered an improvised bathroom, which didn’t have tap water. We heated water in a boiler [using fire wood] and all. We had a garden and we bred animals.
We didn’t really have Jewish neighbors when we stayed in Bacau. The town had, like any other town, its Jewish neighborhood, but, to be honest, we didn’t live in it. So the people with whom I grew up were Romanians. Our neighbors were very open though. Besides, our family consisted of hard-working people. We have a saying: ‘Don’t mind them, they’re hard-working people!’ Which means they’re okay.
The Jews in Bacau had all sorts of occupations! There were tradesmen, craftsmen, physicians, engineers, lawyers and all that! There weren’t many Jewish butchers – most of the butchers were Romanian. But, since there were Jews living in town, there had to be some Jewish butchers too. They ran kosher shops. The hakham came, slaughtered the animals, and checked the meat; if it wasn’t right, it had to be thrown away! I couldn’t say there were more tradesmen than craftsmen or more tailors than shoemakers. I simply don’t know what the ratios were.
I couldn’t say exactly how many Jews lived in Bacau when we moved there, but I think the town’s entire population must have amounted to some 35,000 people. There were many synagogues. Two of them were really large and beautiful! Then we had a shoemakers’ synagogue, a tailors’ synagogue, and so on; there were at least six smaller ones. All of them were functional. I don’t remember if they were Sephardic or Ashkenazic, but I doubt there were any Sephardim in our town. Each synagogue had its own cantor, who was in charge with the prayer service, and its own gabbai. The town only had one rabbi. However, for a number of years, when I was a child, there wasn’t even one rabbi in Bacau. There was one in Buhusi, and people used to go there. Then Rabbi Safran came. But I’m telling you that, in my childhood, there was no rabbi in Bacau. After Safran left, I don’t know if there was another one to replace him right away. Later, a rabbi from Iasi arrived, only he was actually from Dorohoi. His name was Marinis. Eventually he moved to Bucharest, where he lived for 20 years before passing away.
Romania
Bacau was a nice town. There was tap water and electricity, but not everywhere! There were still neighborhoods where people used water pumps and latrines. However, the streets in the center had plumbing and power. Some of the streets were paved, some of them weren’t. There were horse-powered and ox-powered carts, and there were also motor cars. Buses connected the town to the localities situated 5-10 kilometers away. There were no trams in Bacau, and there aren’t any today either. But the town remains a very nice place, tidy and all. There was a large marketplace, and a much smaller one, located only a few hundred meters away from the former. In our family, it was our father who went to the marketplace. I don’t know where he shopped, whether he had his favorite places or not. There was also a fair. It took place every Thursday, outside the town, on a wasteland. People brought cattle, cereals, and things like that to trade. Once a year, on St. Peter’s, there was a funfair too. They had all sorts of amusements and we were always keen to go – there was no way our parents could have avoided taking us there!
There is an anti-Semitic trend [in today’s Romanian society]. There is indeed. It’s apparent! There are people who can’t control themselves, primitive people. But you have to take them as they are, there’s no other way! Anti-Semitism is very strong. You can sense it. This is how it was, how it is, and how it will always be! Anti-Semitism will never disappear! There are so few Jews left in Romania – pure Jews; they hardly amount to 4,000! Yet everyone’s fighting against the Jews! You can see it everywhere you go. Okay, I’m a Jew, so I may sound biased. But some friends of mine and of my daughter’s, pure [Christian] Orthodox Romanians, told me: ‘Romania is an anti-Semitic country. We think all evil is done by the Jews.’ Europe isn’t doing any better. I examined the situation, and I may have a better judgment, because I’m older. And I’m telling you that the situation is very serious, because Europe is now marked by anti-Semitism just the way it was before Hitler came to power: everyone had something against the Jews, but they couldn’t say much because the authorities didn’t allow it. It’s the same [now]: things are being kept smoldered. But what can we do? May God help us! God takes care of everyone! If He takes care of the Jews, that’s fine with me; if He doesn’t, that’s fine with me too.