My parents met in Marosvasarhely. There was a family in Marosvasarhely called Konig, Gyula Konig and his wife, Berta, my mother’s relatives. Gyula Konig had a younger sister, Roza Konig. They were probably the ones who brought to my mother’s attention that there was a young man, my father, who could start a family. He had a good job and was financially stable. They somehow arranged for them to meet, and from then on everything probably took its own course.
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Displaying 19801 - 19830 of 50826 results
Samuel Izsak
My mother, Rachel Legmann, was born in Drag in 1884. I don’t know what education she had, nor which elementary school she went to. She attended middle school [3] in Budapest. She lived at her uncle’s. My mother lived a very rich cultural life there. She used to go to the theater, read periodicals and literature. After she returned to Drag, she subscribed to several periodicals she had liked in Pest: the Magyar Lanyok [Hungarian Girls] and the outstanding literature journal founded by poet Jozsef Kiss [4], the Het [the Week]. My mother liked folk art very much, and she passed on this spirit to me.
My grandfather died in 1938 here, in Kolozsvar. At that time I was a medicine student, and I attended the funeral with my parents. He was buried according to the Jewish tradition in the Orthodox cemetery of Kolozsvar. My grandfather Legmann had three children: my mother Rachel, Miksa and Iren.
When I was a child my parents took me to my grandparents’ on several occasions. They had a nice farm-house with a large yard, stables and a garden. They lived a very civilized life. Behind the house there was this beautiful garden, with an old row of currants all along it and an alley between. In the back of the garden there was an old walnut tree, with a stone table underneath. I was in the room where my mother spent her girlhood. From there one had a beautiful view of the garden. Underneath her window there was a splendid flower-bed. My mother loved flowers.
I have no idea how religious my grandparents were. I presume they observed the traditions and the traditional holidays, and I think when they had to recite the Kaddish for their deceased parents, they went to the synagogue, but I have no precise information on this. My mother never told me anything about these matters. Their mother tongue was Hungarian.
As to my maternal grandparents I only knew my grandfather, Rudolf Legmann. He was born around 1856. I only vaguely remember my grandmother, Rozalia Legmann [nee Konig], born in 1878, because she died when I was only ten. My grandfather was a farmer in a Romanian village near Kolozsvar called Drag. Drag is about 40 kilometers to the northeast of Kolozsvar. He farmed both his own and rented lands. Apart from the family, there were, of course, wage laborers working on the land. They were locals. My grandfather was on very good terms with the Romanian Orthodox [Greek Catholic] priest of the village and the villagers, as well, who never forgot my grandfather’s humane attitude: in World War I many of the male villagers had been taken to war, and my grandfather supported their widows, giving them wheat and corn flour.
After he graduated from the higher commercial school, he became a bank clerk at the Ludas branch of the Agrar Bank from Marosvasarhely. He was already married by then. He was called in from Sepsiszentgyorgy to Marosvasarhely, to the headquarters of the bank, and he became one of the chief clerks, one of the managers of the bank. My father was never a wealthy man. He wasn’t a business man, never had any inclinations for commerce, but his income was enough to support us.
Romania
My father, Izsak Izsak, was born in Mezoszabad in 1885. I don’t think there was a school there, so I presume he either finished his elementary education with a private teacher or in Marosvasarhely. He didn’t go to cheder, nor to talmud torah. He finished his higher education in Brasso. He studied at the higher commercial school in Brasso and graduated from there. I still have his graduation diploma. He graduated in June 1901. I think his teachers were unfair to him; we have to keep in mind that my father was Jewish: He had grades of ‘A’ for seven out of twelve disciplines, but they only declared him a ‘B’, and not an ‘A’ student. He had an ‘A’ in Romanian. My father’s mother tongue was, of course, Hungarian, but he already learned Romanian when he was a child. He also spoke good German, and understood some, but couldn’t speak it, Italian and French. His parents sent him to Brasso to learn German.
My father was the oldest son; the others were Jozsef, Jeno, Bela and Gyula, my uncles. Jozsef Izsak was working as a clerk at the kerosene factory. He was an extremely cultivated person, with an exceptional gift for languages. He could speak and write in eight to ten languages. He knew oriental languages: Persian, Turkish and Ivrit. He also knew Romanian, Italian, German and French. He had a very large library. Every time I visited him he gave me some books. He was single, and, as far as I know, he was deported from Kistarcsa [today Hungary] for political reasons. I have no idea exactly what these reasons were. He perished in Auschwitz in 1944.
By the way, all my aunts were unmarried and perished in Auschwitz in 1944. I don’t know the professions of my father’s other sisters, but they made beautiful needlework and Gobelin tapestries to order. There was a needlework factory on the main square that even exported goods, and they all worked there. I don’t remember the name of that company. Terez Izsak was born in 1896. I don’t know anything about her, only that she died in Auschwitz. Antonia Izsak was the youngest of my father’s brothers and sisters, she was born in 1904. She died in Auschwitz as well.
Aunt Sari Izsak, born in 1887, was a playwright. Several of her pieces were performed in Marosvasarhely. I don’t remember any titles, nor the drama company that performed them. I do remember though one play being performed in the auditorium of the community center. My whole family attended it. I was still a child. I only recall that the piece received a burst of applause and my aunt had to take a curtain-call and she was given a basket of flowers. The public expressed its respect that way.
As a child I often visited my grandmother, aunts and uncles in Marosvasarhely. I used to be invited to my paternal grandmother’s for lunch each Saturday. I had to wait for her in front of the synagogue, because she used to go there every Saturday. I wasn’t compelled to go inside, so I waited for her outside. When she came out of the synagogue, we used to go home together. On the way she always asked me, ‘Why do you love visiting me? Do you come because you love me?’. I answered that I liked going there because the meal was great. Of course she felt offended, but what else can one expect a child to say?
They spread all over Transylvania. I don’t remember whether my father went to the Orthodox synagogue in Marosvasarhely, but when our family moved to Nagyvarad, where Neologs were predominant, my parents went to the Neolog synagogue. As for me, I went there less often. Then we moved to Temesvar, where they also went to the Neolog synagogue.
They were religious and surely they observed the holidays. My grandmother was going to the synagogue regularly. I think she was Orthodox. But slowly my aunts, uncles and my father all became Neologs [1], laicized and less observant. They never converted to be Neologs, but if they had the opportunity, they went to the Neolog synagogue. In Marosvasarhely this wasn’t possible, of course, because there only was an Orthodox and a Status Quo synagogue, but not everybody remained in Marosvasarhely.
At the beginning of the 20th century they moved to Marosvasarhely. They lived for a while in a rented apartment, then they bought a two-storied house not far from the city center, on Kisfaludi Street. The Izsak family lived on the lower floor. I don’t know who lived upstairs. The house was very modernly furnished, following the fashion back then. As far as I remember, there were at least four rooms and the offices. I don’t remember whether we had tap water, but I know my grandparents had a Szekler maidservant.
Maria Reidman
In the 1960s we got the opportunity to move into one apartment with my parents.
My father went to the synagogue until the end of his days and brought home matzah on Pesach. My mother remained an atheist.
Grigory and I knew a lot about Jewish holidays, but we only observed traditions on Pesach. I made traditional meals from matzah, stuffed fish and my father conducted the seder.
He died in 1982. We buried him in the Jewish section of the Kiev cemetery according to Jewish tradition.
We have never considered emigration and never wanted to leave our home. Home is best, I believe. I don’t blame those who decided to emigrate. Everyone has to decide for himself. I don’t find it possible for me to move to another country.
Unfortunately, I haven’t had an opportunity to visit Israel. I have great respect for this country and sympathize with the situation its people are in. I hope Israel will be a place of blissful peace some day.
I’ve become interested in Jewish traditions and history, but I think, this interest has come to me too late. I’m happy about the restoration of Jewish life in Ukraine over the last ten years. I sometimes read Jewish newspapers and magazines and watch TV programs, but I don’t think I will be able to lead a real Jewish way of life. I lived my life in the era of atheism and that can’t be changed. I don’t go to the synagogue. I only celebrate a few Jewish holidays to honor the memory of my father. It’s wonderful that people have the opportunity to return to their roots, learn the traditions of their people and be proud of their origin. Many Jewish organizations were established and synagogues opened in Kiev in recent years. Many young people attend them and it’s just wonderful!
Before the war about 800 Jews had come to Olevsk from the neighboring villages, hoping to leave by train. Others stayed hoping that the Germans wouldn’t be killing Jews. Many remembered World War I, when people were happy to be captured by the Germans because they treated them very well. The Germans took all Jews to the nearby Varvarovka village and shot them all. They were buried there. A small monument was erected at the spot of the killing recently.
Many people didn’t return from the evacuation, and their houses were inhabited by others. After our house had been bombed some people moved the remains of our belongings to some village, and my father knew which one. But Mama was adamantly against trying to get it back. She said, ‘Those people were suffering, too. Besides, they didn’t know that we would be back’. There were gangs in the woods. It was scary to stay in Olevsk. There was no place to work.
In the 1980s Jews began to emigrate to Israel and America. Out of the 3,000 Jews living there before the war there were only eight to ten left.
My parents and I often talked in Yiddish, but our common language of communication was mainly Russian. I used to be fluent in Yiddish. I can still read Yiddish, but it’s more difficult now.
, Ukraine
I was looking for a job. There were hardly any vacancies in the schools, however strange it may sound.
My mother managed to rent a room for a reasonable price. There were four of us in this 17 square meter room.
My sister got employed as an accountant, and my father found a job at a storage facility.
I found a part-time job at a school in January 1945. I worked there until 1976 when I retired. I met my future husband, Grigory Gutgarts, there.