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But to be honest the Otets Paisii members in a way saved our family. That happened in 1942 when we were living in the ghetto. My family was living on Hristo Botev Street and the headquarters of Otets Paisii was in the same building. There was a board on the wall of our house saying that their organization was housed there. The Otets Paisii members treated us better than the Branniks and Legionaries. They only bothered us at night when they were drunk. But the event I’m talking about took place on 24th May 1943 [18]: the famous demonstration on Klementina Square against the internment of Sofia Jews to the countryside. At that time I went to school with a classmate and friend of mine called Ziko Gratsiani who later became a general in the Israeli army, but I don’t know anything else about him.
We were told that there would be a school celebration, because in Bulgaria that date was the day [May 24] [19] of Slavic script and culture. We entered the school but there was nobody there. Then we decided to go home. Suddenly we heard voices, and gunshots. Instead of running away, we stopped and looked around. We were on the corner of Dragoman Blvd, very near the synagogue. And right there at the corner we were stopped by a man. He seemed scared. He told us, ‘Run, boys if you live nearby because there will be a blockade!’ And so we did. We ran as fast as we could. I learned later that that same day the authorities were going from house to house to take Jews to the labor camps. But they didn’t enter our house. The board of the anti-Semitic organization had saved us. But a couple of days later a uniformed police officer came to tell us that in a couple of days we were leaving for Pazardzhik. We had to be interned there.
From the time we spent in Pazardzhik I remember mostly the hunger. I was 13 years old at that time, but I had to work in the local carpenter’s factory of the Sotirovi brothers. I gave up my whole day’s earning for vegetable soup. It was 30 levs and the soup was 35 levs. I made wooden boxes on a burnisher. I worked as an apprentice. My hands were full of sores all the time and that is a nightmare for a musician. Nevertheless, I learned to play the guitar. A friend of mine, who had also been interned to Pazardzhik, Jecky Levi, taught me. Apart from the factory I also worked in a workshop where I hammered large nail-heads. We were paid according to the work we did. Thanks to that money I could buy some bread. At that time bread was rationed. Everyone was allowed to buy a quarter of a small bread. And they mixed the bread with soil. Yet, I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. There was a Bulgarian at the bakery where I bought bread, who noticed that I was all skin and bones and gave me some extra bread. Our neighbors, the Chaprazovs, from 1 Stara Planina Street from Sofia, also visited us in Pazardzhik. They came loaded with big bags of food. If it hadn’t been for the Bulgarian people, we wouldn’t have survived.
We were told that there would be a school celebration, because in Bulgaria that date was the day [May 24] [19] of Slavic script and culture. We entered the school but there was nobody there. Then we decided to go home. Suddenly we heard voices, and gunshots. Instead of running away, we stopped and looked around. We were on the corner of Dragoman Blvd, very near the synagogue. And right there at the corner we were stopped by a man. He seemed scared. He told us, ‘Run, boys if you live nearby because there will be a blockade!’ And so we did. We ran as fast as we could. I learned later that that same day the authorities were going from house to house to take Jews to the labor camps. But they didn’t enter our house. The board of the anti-Semitic organization had saved us. But a couple of days later a uniformed police officer came to tell us that in a couple of days we were leaving for Pazardzhik. We had to be interned there.
From the time we spent in Pazardzhik I remember mostly the hunger. I was 13 years old at that time, but I had to work in the local carpenter’s factory of the Sotirovi brothers. I gave up my whole day’s earning for vegetable soup. It was 30 levs and the soup was 35 levs. I made wooden boxes on a burnisher. I worked as an apprentice. My hands were full of sores all the time and that is a nightmare for a musician. Nevertheless, I learned to play the guitar. A friend of mine, who had also been interned to Pazardzhik, Jecky Levi, taught me. Apart from the factory I also worked in a workshop where I hammered large nail-heads. We were paid according to the work we did. Thanks to that money I could buy some bread. At that time bread was rationed. Everyone was allowed to buy a quarter of a small bread. And they mixed the bread with soil. Yet, I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. There was a Bulgarian at the bakery where I bought bread, who noticed that I was all skin and bones and gave me some extra bread. Our neighbors, the Chaprazovs, from 1 Stara Planina Street from Sofia, also visited us in Pazardzhik. They came loaded with big bags of food. If it hadn’t been for the Bulgarian people, we wouldn’t have survived.
Location
Bulgaria
Interview
Jul Efraim Levi
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