In the beginning I didn't have any close friends at school. After school I'd go straight home and the nanny would devote herself to me again. She was probably afraid for me and so wanted to be constantly with me. But that didn't bother me. Then they found a friend from the second grade for me, who was named Homolac. His family had moved there from someplace in Moravia. His father began working in Brandys at the new Bata [9] branch office, which by the way is still standing, it's a modern, functionalist building on the way down to the bridge. When they moved to town, that little Homolac didn't have any friends in Brandys, and my father arranged me for him somehow, because he probably realized that it wasn't good for me to not have any friends.
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jiri munk
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On the first floor was a dining room with a large round table, around which we all used to sit and eat breakfast, lunch and supper together. We had to eat everything on our plate. Our father was from a poor family, so he made sure that we weren't spoiled. Often there were scenes, my brother for example couldn't stand cauliflower soup, it made him nauseous, and despite that he had to eat it all. There was no being picky. When you took a piece of meat, you got at least three times as many fixings, and had to eat it all.
Father also painted. He'd shut himself up in the attic, where he had an easel, and through a window a view out over the Polabi landscape. There he'd paint mainly genre paintings. When I was a child, he drew soldiers and horses for me. He drew and painted beautifully. We also inherited some basic artistic talent from him, and my brother later also further devoted himself to it. My sister longed to be a fashion designer all her life, and even our mother drew nicely, but we didn't make use of it in any particular fashion.
By coincidence my mother's father was also a lawyer, and probably because our father needed experience, he started working for his father-in-law. He then likely gave the practice to my father. This means that along with our mother, our father also got the practice and house as a dowry. Apparently our mother was very pretty when she was young. The wedding took place on 27th September 1923. Mother was 26 and Father was already 36, so before that he must have already had a fair amount of work experience. Apparently he'd also worked somewhere in Duchcov [a town in northwestern Bohemia]. Back then it was common that graduate lawyers worked as articled clerks for even several years before they started their own practice.
I spent my childhood in Brandys nad Labem. I've read that Brandys has a long Jewish history. The first references to a Jewish community in Brandys reach as far back as the 16th century. Apparently there were a lot of Jews in Brandys because the town was a center of the United Brotherhood, which had a better relationship with Jews than the Catholics. [United Brotherhood - Unitas Fratrum: a protestant church that was born from the major religious awakening in Bohemia (Hussitism). It was founded by Brother Gregory in Kunvald in northeastern Bohemia in the year 1457.] Jews also moved to small towns near Prague because they'd been expelled from Prague many times, and settled nearby, so they could eventually return.
Our family wasn't very religious. I think that already Grandpa Eduard definitely wasn't, we certainly didn't observe any rules, we only went to synagogue during the High Holidays, and as a small boy and later also after the war I used to go to Jewish religion lessons. We didn't celebrate the High Holidays at home, we observed Christmas, like Christians.
masha zakh
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Our Jewish community was established in 1985. Now I can't imagine my life without the community. It goes without saying that the community supports us in the material sense. They deliver food packages to pensioners, partly pay our utility bills, particularly in winter, when our heating bills are so high. Now I have a higher pension. The state ensured that those who were in evacuation and those subject to resettlement had equal allowances and benefits. This includes partial coverage of the cost of medications, while before these were taken care of by the Jewish community. What can I say - this is a significant support.
Well, I think, the most important thing that the community does for us is getting us together. This is so very important. I have a family, but I enjoy visiting the community so very much. I like talking to people there. The community provides support and the joy of communication to lonely people. We get together on all holidays. We celebrate Jewish holidays, and they are always very nice. We also celebrate birthdays. Each month people having their birthday this month get together to celebrate. The community takes care of the treats, greetings and gifts. They may also invite their own guests to the event. It's very important for these people to know that they are remembered and needed. Therefore, the community has become a family for many Jewish people.
Well, I think, the most important thing that the community does for us is getting us together. This is so very important. I have a family, but I enjoy visiting the community so very much. I like talking to people there. The community provides support and the joy of communication to lonely people. We get together on all holidays. We celebrate Jewish holidays, and they are always very nice. We also celebrate birthdays. Each month people having their birthday this month get together to celebrate. The community takes care of the treats, greetings and gifts. They may also invite their own guests to the event. It's very important for these people to know that they are remembered and needed. Therefore, the community has become a family for many Jewish people.
In 1991 the Soviet Union broke up. It was hard to believe this could be true, considering how monolithic and powerful the country had been and then it disappeared all of a sudden. Estonia gained independence. I can't say unambiguously that it was good or bad. Everything has its pro's and con's. It's good that we live in our own country now. It's a good thing we can think by ourselves how we want to live.
However, there are some things I don't like about it. During the Soviet time people were free to move from one Republic to another. There were no borders separating them. Members of one family live in different regions. They are not so free to reunite nowadays. My mother's cousin sister lives in St. Petersburg, Russia. It becomes a whole problem, if we want to visit her. We need to obtain a number of papers and have visas adjudicated. It takes a lot of time and effort. Traveling to any country, but Russia, is easy. My mother cousin's birthday is in summer. She's invited us. My daughter has been busy gathering all necessary papers for herself and her son since winter. She's also saving for this trip. It's rather expensive. I don't like it that all roads to the FSU Republics have been closed for us.
Everything else is all right. Life in Estonia is gradually improving. There is no anti-Semitism in Estonia. In this apartment building we are the only Jewish tenants. The rest of them are Estonian, but they are very friendly, and very polite with me.
However, there are some things I don't like about it. During the Soviet time people were free to move from one Republic to another. There were no borders separating them. Members of one family live in different regions. They are not so free to reunite nowadays. My mother's cousin sister lives in St. Petersburg, Russia. It becomes a whole problem, if we want to visit her. We need to obtain a number of papers and have visas adjudicated. It takes a lot of time and effort. Traveling to any country, but Russia, is easy. My mother cousin's birthday is in summer. She's invited us. My daughter has been busy gathering all necessary papers for herself and her son since winter. She's also saving for this trip. It's rather expensive. I don't like it that all roads to the FSU Republics have been closed for us.
Everything else is all right. Life in Estonia is gradually improving. There is no anti-Semitism in Estonia. In this apartment building we are the only Jewish tenants. The rest of them are Estonian, but they are very friendly, and very polite with me.
Frankly speaking, when perestroika began in the Soviet Union, I had no high expectations in this regard. We were so used to whatever promises party leaders made never keeping them. I didn't think Gorbachev [33] was the man capable of turning the country in an opposite direction. One day Gorbachev visited the Marat factory during his trip to Estonia. He seemed too gentle and irresolute to me. He was joking and laughing. This was not the way Soviet leaders presented themselves. However, in the course of time I started noticing changes in our life. Actually, I've never been interested in politics. All I cared about was my family and my job. Why think about politics, if there is nothing you can do to change it.
However, some changes were evident at the beginning of perestroika. The first thing that drew my attention was that Soviet newspapers started covering events in Israel. Also, the manner of presentations changed a lot. While calling Israel an aggressor before, during perestroika newspapers became more objective writing about Israel. They also wrote that people in Israel were talented and hardworking. During the Soviet rule traveling abroad or visiting relatives was impossible, while during perestroika this became possible. My father's cousin sister lives in Israel. She must be 90 years old, probably. She invited me to visit her. I didn't visit her then, though for other reasons: tickets were expensive, and besides, my health condition didn't allow me to travel that far. I believe we've benefited a lot from perestroika.
However, some changes were evident at the beginning of perestroika. The first thing that drew my attention was that Soviet newspapers started covering events in Israel. Also, the manner of presentations changed a lot. While calling Israel an aggressor before, during perestroika newspapers became more objective writing about Israel. They also wrote that people in Israel were talented and hardworking. During the Soviet rule traveling abroad or visiting relatives was impossible, while during perestroika this became possible. My father's cousin sister lives in Israel. She must be 90 years old, probably. She invited me to visit her. I didn't visit her then, though for other reasons: tickets were expensive, and besides, my health condition didn't allow me to travel that far. I believe we've benefited a lot from perestroika.
After the breakup of the Soviet Union, when Estonia gained independence, only the ones born in Estonia before 1940, or children of the victims of resettlement, regardless of their place of birth, were granted the Estonian citizenship. The ones who arrived in Estonia after its accession to the Soviet Union had to obtain the citizenship. Many people left the country, and the rest of them believe this to be rather unfair. However, they have to learn the language, pass their exams to obtain the citizenship, which they are rather reluctant to do. Anatoliy passed the exam and was granted the citizenship of Estonia. He's a bit shy to speak Estonian. He needs to work on his pronunciation. My grandson can speak fluent Estonian, and he often corrects his father.
My mother-in-law was a great cook. On holidays she always made something special: gefilte fish, chicken broth and forshmak with herring. We always had matzah on Pesach. My husband and I bought bread anyway, while my mother- in-law only ate matzah on Pesach. Se also strictly observed the fast on Yom Kippur. On holidays our relatives got together at our home. Sometimes we visited them.
We didn't celebrate Soviet holidays at home. However, we celebrated them at work. This was a mandatory requirement. We were also bound to go to parades on 1st May and 7th November [30]. Those, who missed the event received no bonuses.
My mother-in-law only spoke Yiddish at home. My husband knew Yiddish well to speak it with his mother. Ida also spoke Yiddish to me. I understood everything she was saying, and I replied in Yiddish mixing it with Estonian, if I lacked words to express myself. My husband and I only spoke Russian between ourselves and to our daughter.
We didn't celebrate Soviet holidays at home. However, we celebrated them at work. This was a mandatory requirement. We were also bound to go to parades on 1st May and 7th November [30]. Those, who missed the event received no bonuses.
My mother-in-law only spoke Yiddish at home. My husband knew Yiddish well to speak it with his mother. Ida also spoke Yiddish to me. I understood everything she was saying, and I replied in Yiddish mixing it with Estonian, if I lacked words to express myself. My husband and I only spoke Russian between ourselves and to our daughter.
My husband's parents were kind to me. My father-in-law died in 1960, shortly after my husband and I got married. He was buried according to the Jewish rules in the Jewish cemetery in Tallinn. We lived with my mother-in- law. My in-laws led a traditional Jewish way of living. My husband's parents were religious. My husband was not as deeply religious as his parents, but he also observed Jewish traditions. Even during the Soviet period my mother-in-law did her best to follow the kashrut. She only cooked Jewish food. We only ate beef and poultry. We never had any pork or sausage at home.
When my husband's family returned to Tallinn after the war, my husband's parents always went to the prayer house on Jewish holidays. The former prayer house was quite near our house, but later it was removed, and the prayer house moved to another premise on Magdalena Street. This was quite a distance from our house, but my in-laws went to the synagogue regardless. After my father-in-law died, my husband and I accompanied my mother-in-law there and after the service we saw to it that she got back home safely. I attended the prayer house with her a few times.
When my husband's family returned to Tallinn after the war, my husband's parents always went to the prayer house on Jewish holidays. The former prayer house was quite near our house, but later it was removed, and the prayer house moved to another premise on Magdalena Street. This was quite a distance from our house, but my in-laws went to the synagogue regardless. After my father-in-law died, my husband and I accompanied my mother-in-law there and after the service we saw to it that she got back home safely. I attended the prayer house with her a few times.
There was another tragic accident in my mother-in-law's family. Her cousin Frieda, much younger than Ida, was a very beautiful woman. Frieda and her family lived in Tallinn before the war. When the war began, Frieda didn't want to leave her home. She was telling my mother-in-law that there was nothing bad about the Germans, and that they were not going to hurt Jews. Estonia had been under German rule at some time, and there was nothing terrible happening. They knew German well, and she believed things were going to be all right. She was saying they would wear yellow stars, if necessary. What else was there going to be? They had managed more or less during the Bolshevik [29] rule, and they would survive the Germans somehow. Therefore, Frieda stayed in Tallinn.
When the Germans occupied Tallinn, they started arresting and killing Jewish residents. Many Jews stayed in Estonia thinking like Frieda did. Frieda was arrested right on a street. German soldiers pushed her into a bus where they raped and shot her. Some acquaintances told my mother-in-law what had happened after she returned to Tallinn.
When the Germans occupied Tallinn, they started arresting and killing Jewish residents. Many Jews stayed in Estonia thinking like Frieda did. Frieda was arrested right on a street. German soldiers pushed her into a bus where they raped and shot her. Some acquaintances told my mother-in-law what had happened after she returned to Tallinn.
I studied at school until I finished the 8th grade. I had Russian, Estonian and Jewish classmates. There was no different treatment of any of us. I faced no anti-Semitism at school. I think, my Jewish classmates would say the same. Our teachers and classmates treated us well. We choose friends based on our interests. I did all right at school. I wasn't in the ranks of the best students, but I was no failure either.
I was a pioneer [25] and a Komsomol [26] member. I wouldn't say I was eager to join the pioneers or Komsomol. It's just that it was common that all students joined these organizations, and I did, too. However, I didn't care too much about this. I had older and younger classmates. The age difference was three or four years due to the war. My closest friends, Pesia Marienburg and Tsylia Perelman, were Jewish girls. They live in Tallinn now. I keep in touch with them. My other Jewish friend Lilia Malkina lives in Poland. We correspond and talk on the phone. I also had Russian friends. Many of them moved to different towns and countries. We see each other, when they visit Tallinn. We are old now, but when we get together, we feel like schoolgirls again. We recall the time, when we were schoolgirls and spent vacations in summer camps.
In March 1953 Stalin died. We heard that he died at school. We had no classes on this day, and got together in the school conference room. The school principal held a speech, and everybody was crying. I cried, too. I wouldn't say I was grieving that much. I believed it was only natural when old people died. Besides, he was someone I didn't know personally, but tears must be as contagious as laughter. Everybody cried, and I did, too.
I was a pioneer [25] and a Komsomol [26] member. I wouldn't say I was eager to join the pioneers or Komsomol. It's just that it was common that all students joined these organizations, and I did, too. However, I didn't care too much about this. I had older and younger classmates. The age difference was three or four years due to the war. My closest friends, Pesia Marienburg and Tsylia Perelman, were Jewish girls. They live in Tallinn now. I keep in touch with them. My other Jewish friend Lilia Malkina lives in Poland. We correspond and talk on the phone. I also had Russian friends. Many of them moved to different towns and countries. We see each other, when they visit Tallinn. We are old now, but when we get together, we feel like schoolgirls again. We recall the time, when we were schoolgirls and spent vacations in summer camps.
In March 1953 Stalin died. We heard that he died at school. We had no classes on this day, and got together in the school conference room. The school principal held a speech, and everybody was crying. I cried, too. I wouldn't say I was grieving that much. I believed it was only natural when old people died. Besides, he was someone I didn't know personally, but tears must be as contagious as laughter. Everybody cried, and I did, too.
After returning from the front Zemakh went to work at the Prosecutor's office in Tallinn. Veterans of the war were well-respected then, and veterans of the Estonian Corps held high-level official posts in Estonia. However, Zemakh had to leave his office, when persecution of Jews in the form of fighting cosmopolitans and the Doctors' Plot [24] began. Actually, he didn't wait there until he might have any problems and left the Prosecutor's office for the Ministry of Road Transport. He worked there until retirement.
1948 was the time, when cosmopolitan cases [17] were prosecuted in the Soviet Union. This campaign was widely covered in the mass media. Since there were no cosmopolitans in Estonia, they fought wealthier farmers. They were called 'kulaks' [18], a common definition in the Soviet Union. In 1948 and 1949 resettlement [19] of large numbers of these farmers to Siberia was going on. The rest of them were forced to join the kolkhoz farms [20]. Also, those resettled on 14th June 1941, and were back from exile, were subject to resettlement again. The police had their records, and they were arrested again and were subject to resettlement to Siberia. Large numbers of people were affected then. The survivors returned to Estonia in the late 1950s, when rehabilitation [21] began, but many had died in exile and the Gulag camps [22].
In 1949 my stepbrother Leo Kitt was born. When my mother and he returned home from the maternity home, he was circumcised. The elders from the prayer house were invited to our home. There was also a doctor to do the circumcision. Though we knew well all those we invited to my little brother's brit milah, the authorities somehow found out that we had this event at home. My mother and stepfather had to go to the militia office for an inquest regarding this subject. They also were questioned by the district party committee. I don't know what they explained at the police and at work, but there were no further consequences. I don't know, perhaps, there was some reprimand imposed on them as party members. However committed the authorities were to combat religion and traditions, most local Jews had their sons and grandsons circumcised. Whatever efforts the authorities undertook, this did not hinder people from observing Jewish traditions. They even had a chuppah at their weddings.
When my grandmother was alive, we observed Jewish traditions. My grandmother did the cooking and did her best to follow the kosher rules. It was hardly possible to buy kosher meat after the war. It was hard to buy any food at that time. However, if there was meat at home, it was beef, veal or poultry. My grandmother didn't accept pork meat. She watched it that we ate dairy and meat products separately. We didn't even add sour cream to meat soup. We celebrated all Jewish holidays according to the rules.
For some time after the war matzah wasn't available in stores and my grandmother made it herself. I was there to assist her, since matzah has to be rolled during a 15-minute cycle to be appropriate. My grandmother used to roll the dough and I poked holes and put it into the oven. It was hard to cook all traditional Jewish food on holidays during the post-war years, but my grandmother did her best to manage. She made gefilte fish or chicken. She tried to make something delicious for holidays.
My stepfather also celebrated Jewish holidays with us after he moved in with us. On Yom Kippur we fasted as required for 24 hours. Well, my mother or stepfather didn't go to the synagogue, though. They were members of the Party, and if somebody had known they observed Jewish traditions, they would have had problems at work. The Soviet rule didn't appreciate religious people and fought against religion [16].
For some time after the war matzah wasn't available in stores and my grandmother made it herself. I was there to assist her, since matzah has to be rolled during a 15-minute cycle to be appropriate. My grandmother used to roll the dough and I poked holes and put it into the oven. It was hard to cook all traditional Jewish food on holidays during the post-war years, but my grandmother did her best to manage. She made gefilte fish or chicken. She tried to make something delicious for holidays.
My stepfather also celebrated Jewish holidays with us after he moved in with us. On Yom Kippur we fasted as required for 24 hours. Well, my mother or stepfather didn't go to the synagogue, though. They were members of the Party, and if somebody had known they observed Jewish traditions, they would have had problems at work. The Soviet rule didn't appreciate religious people and fought against religion [16].
In November 1944 we heard that Estonia had been liberated from the fascists. My mother, my grandmother and I were the first to leave for home. Aunt Bertha, Fruma and Grandmother arrived in Tallinn a couple of months later. We had no problems with going back home. We were forced to leave our home and had the right to go back to our hometown. Our house was ruined by bombing. We stayed with our acquaintances. My mother went to the executive committee [15] where she received a two-room apartment on the 1st floor of a five-story apartment building. Initially it was stove-heated, and a few years later the municipal authorities provided for gas supply to the house.
Life was gradually improving. My mother went to work at the human resources department of a tram/trolleybus agency. I went to the 2nd grade in a Russian school. My grandmother did the housework at home.
Life was gradually improving. My mother went to work at the human resources department of a tram/trolleybus agency. I went to the 2nd grade in a Russian school. My grandmother did the housework at home.
My mother, my grandmother Rachel and I packed whatever we thought we needed and went to the railway station. There were trains all over the tracks. As soon as a train was full of passengers, it departed. We managed to somehow squeeze into a train before it departed. My father's sister Bertha, her daughter Fruma and Grandmother Hane-Rokhe Stumer caught the next train. We didn't even know where we were going. What mattered was that we went as far away from the German army and the front line as possible. There were bombings on the way, but fortunately, our train wasn't damaged. This was a long trip. We arrived at Nizhniy Yar where Mama obtained a letter of assignment to Dolmatov, Kurgan region in Russia [about 1600 km north-east of Moscow]. This was where we spent our years in the evacuation. We lived in a house on Sovietskaya Street.
We rented a room. Initially there were six of us sharing this room: my father's sister Bertha, her daughter and Grandmother Hane-Rokhe joined us there. Mama and Bertha went to work. They had to work to be provided food cards [14]. My cousin, my grandmothers and I received dependants' cards for 200 g bread ration per day each. The bread was heavy and under-baked. It also contained bran and straw. Our daily rate was one slice per day, while Mama and Bertha's rate was larger. They shared their bread with their children.
Our life in town was more difficult than in villages where they could grow vegetables on the land plots that were provided to them. Those, who lived in town, could only buy vegetables at a market or trade food for whatever valuables, but we still had insufficient food products. My cousin and I picked nettle in spring and summer, and my grandmother made soup with it. We were very poor and starved. It was a good thing that we managed to survive. Our landlords and even strangers were giving us assistance. This was a terrible time, but people were kinder trying to support the needy ones.
We rented a room. Initially there were six of us sharing this room: my father's sister Bertha, her daughter and Grandmother Hane-Rokhe joined us there. Mama and Bertha went to work. They had to work to be provided food cards [14]. My cousin, my grandmothers and I received dependants' cards for 200 g bread ration per day each. The bread was heavy and under-baked. It also contained bran and straw. Our daily rate was one slice per day, while Mama and Bertha's rate was larger. They shared their bread with their children.
Our life in town was more difficult than in villages where they could grow vegetables on the land plots that were provided to them. Those, who lived in town, could only buy vegetables at a market or trade food for whatever valuables, but we still had insufficient food products. My cousin and I picked nettle in spring and summer, and my grandmother made soup with it. We were very poor and starved. It was a good thing that we managed to survive. Our landlords and even strangers were giving us assistance. This was a terrible time, but people were kinder trying to support the needy ones.
In 1940 Estonia became a Soviet Republic [11]. Nothing seemed to change for our family. We had no wealthy relatives, and our family was not persecuted. My father went to work as a shoe leather cutter at a shoe factory, and my mother continued working at the Punane Kojt factory. She was well-respected at work. I don't think there was any anti-Semitism before the war even during the Soviet rule in Estonia. At least, this is what my mother used to say.
On 22nd June 1941 the radio broadcast that Germany had attacked the Soviet Union. The war began [12]. This happened at noon, and the war was already on-going in Belarus. They were bombing Kiev. A few days later my father was conscripted to the Soviet army [13]. His brother Zemakh and Aunt Bertha's husband Efraim were drafted, too. We were still in Tallinn. We were scared. I remember everybody arguing about whether it was worth leaving Estonia for some remote areas in Russia. Both my grandmothers were saying that nothing bad was going to happen if we stayed at home. Estonians had always had good relationships with their German neighbors. However, my mother must have known more about fascism than my grandmother. She insisted that we went away. My mother was a resolute woman. She managed to convince the family to leave.
On 22nd June 1941 the radio broadcast that Germany had attacked the Soviet Union. The war began [12]. This happened at noon, and the war was already on-going in Belarus. They were bombing Kiev. A few days later my father was conscripted to the Soviet army [13]. His brother Zemakh and Aunt Bertha's husband Efraim were drafted, too. We were still in Tallinn. We were scared. I remember everybody arguing about whether it was worth leaving Estonia for some remote areas in Russia. Both my grandmothers were saying that nothing bad was going to happen if we stayed at home. Estonians had always had good relationships with their German neighbors. However, my mother must have known more about fascism than my grandmother. She insisted that we went away. My mother was a resolute woman. She managed to convince the family to leave.
I was born in 1936. I was given the name of Masha after both my grandfathers. Both of them had the name of Meishe, and my name also started with M. After I was born, Mama had a maternity leave to take care of me, and when it was over, she resumed her work at the Punane Kojt factory. My mother liked going to work and communicating with people. She actually didn't have to go work. My father earned quite sufficient, but my mother wanted to be independent. Both grandmothers were helping to raise me.
We talked Yiddish at home. I pronounced my first words in Yiddish. I picked up Estonian later and since 1940 I've spoken Russian.
I can't say my parents were deeply religious, but they did observe Jewish traditions. We always celebrated Jewish holidays at home. On Pesach Mama always cooked traditional Jewish food. We celebrated all holidays according to the rules. On holidays my parents went to the synagogue. I cannot remember celebrating Sabbath at home, but my parents didn't go to the synagogue on this day. The older generation was obviously much more religious than their children. This was what they needed, while for their children this was merely a tribute to traditions.
We talked Yiddish at home. I pronounced my first words in Yiddish. I picked up Estonian later and since 1940 I've spoken Russian.
I can't say my parents were deeply religious, but they did observe Jewish traditions. We always celebrated Jewish holidays at home. On Pesach Mama always cooked traditional Jewish food. We celebrated all holidays according to the rules. On holidays my parents went to the synagogue. I cannot remember celebrating Sabbath at home, but my parents didn't go to the synagogue on this day. The older generation was obviously much more religious than their children. This was what they needed, while for their children this was merely a tribute to traditions.
My father became a shoe leather supplier. He cut out shoe top leather delivering it to shoe makers. My father lived with my grandmother and his brother Zemakh. My father's younger sister Bertha married Efraim Goldman, and they lived by themselves. The families of my parents happened to rent an apartment in the same apartment building. My parents just met on the staircase in their building. My father told his family that he would only marry Dina Zitron, if he were to get married at all. So it happened. My parents got married in October 1935. They had a traditional Jewish wedding. After the wedding they rented a large two-room apartment with a spacious kitchen in the same apartment building. My father's sister Bertha and her husband also lived in this same building. In 1936 her daughter Fruma was born.
y paternal grandfather and grandmother came from Tallinn. My grandfather's name was Meishe Stumer and my grandmother was Hane-Rokhe. I don't know when they were born. I don't know what my grandfather did for a living. My grandmother was a housewife like all married Jewish women at the time. They had three children. My father, Solomon Stuper, was the oldest. He was born in 1905. My father's brother Zemakh was born in 1907, and his sister Bertha was born in 1909. As far as I know from what my mother told me, my father's parents were quite wealthy. My father studied in a general education Jewish school. His brother Zemakh and his sister Bertha studied in a Jewish gymnasium in Tallinn [2].
My father's family spoke Yiddish at home. All of them could speak fluent Estonian and Russian. Estonia belonged to the Russian Empire at the time. Russian was the official language, but all residents in Estonia spoke Estonian in everyday life. Russian was common in the areas near the Russian border. In Tallinn most residents spoke Estonian and German.
My father's parents were religious. They observed all Jewish traditions celebrating Sabbath and Jewish holidays at home. They went to the synagogue on holidays and celebrated Sabbath at home. My grandmother followed the kashrut. It goes without saying that she had special Pesach crockery. She kept it in a specific cupboard, and the family used it once a year on Pesach. As for everyday use, we had two sets of crockery: for meat and dairy products each. There were kosher stores and a shochet, a kosher slaughterer, in Tallinn. There was also a large choral synagogue [3]. Doctor Aba Gomer [4] was the rabbi. Daddy told me he was an intelligent, kind and educated man. Gurevich was a chazzan in the synagogue. People arrived from remote areas to listen to his singing.
My father's family spoke Yiddish at home. All of them could speak fluent Estonian and Russian. Estonia belonged to the Russian Empire at the time. Russian was the official language, but all residents in Estonia spoke Estonian in everyday life. Russian was common in the areas near the Russian border. In Tallinn most residents spoke Estonian and German.
My father's parents were religious. They observed all Jewish traditions celebrating Sabbath and Jewish holidays at home. They went to the synagogue on holidays and celebrated Sabbath at home. My grandmother followed the kashrut. It goes without saying that she had special Pesach crockery. She kept it in a specific cupboard, and the family used it once a year on Pesach. As for everyday use, we had two sets of crockery: for meat and dairy products each. There were kosher stores and a shochet, a kosher slaughterer, in Tallinn. There was also a large choral synagogue [3]. Doctor Aba Gomer [4] was the rabbi. Daddy told me he was an intelligent, kind and educated man. Gurevich was a chazzan in the synagogue. People arrived from remote areas to listen to his singing.
simon rapoport
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When Mikhail Gorbachev [45] declared a new course of the Party, perestroika [46], I honestly didn't expect anything good from that like from any other concoctions of the Soviet regime. Many people in Tallinn didn't trust that either. Everybody understood that if military force was removed, supporting the Soviet regime in its entirety, all that gigantic empire would collapse. At the beginning, a lot of liberties appeared. We were disaccustomed to freedom of speech, religion, press and lack of censorship. Then things were like before, but people felt the taste of freedom and didn't want to go back to the past. We understood that there was no more cruelty of the past years and we started hoping. It turned out so that when Gorbachev decided to found a normal state, not one based on fear and compulsion, that the empire burst like a bubble. I consider the breakup of the Soviet Union [in 1991] to be appropriate and right. That was the way all utopist regimes ended.
The newly gained independence of Estonia [47] was joyful for all of us. We became free. We can go anywhere we want to and do what we find appropriate. Our living became better. I think a lot had been done within a short period of time for a relatively small and not very rich state like Estonia. The state takes care of its citizens, taking into account the things people went through. I understand very well that it was not easy for our state to accomplish that and I value it. The things our country is doing for us are great and magnanimous.
In contrast to the Soviet regime, when anti-Semitism was steadfast on the state level, there was no state anti-Semitism in independent Estonia. It has always been a loyal state. There has been social anti-Semitism and I think it will remain. Social anti-Semitism is deterrent only when the state facilitates it or tacitly accepts this homely phenomenon.
The newly gained independence of Estonia [47] was joyful for all of us. We became free. We can go anywhere we want to and do what we find appropriate. Our living became better. I think a lot had been done within a short period of time for a relatively small and not very rich state like Estonia. The state takes care of its citizens, taking into account the things people went through. I understand very well that it was not easy for our state to accomplish that and I value it. The things our country is doing for us are great and magnanimous.
In contrast to the Soviet regime, when anti-Semitism was steadfast on the state level, there was no state anti-Semitism in independent Estonia. It has always been a loyal state. There has been social anti-Semitism and I think it will remain. Social anti-Semitism is deterrent only when the state facilitates it or tacitly accepts this homely phenomenon.
Soviet holidays meant nothing to me and my wife. They were merely extra days off. It goes without saying that we marked them at work. At that time it was mandatory for all workers to attend festive demonstrations. If somebody skipped that without any serious reason, he was punished - bereft of the bonus or fired.
I learned about the foundation of the state of Israel [44] when I was in exile in 1948. It was a great joy for me. The dream of Jabotinsky and many other Zionists came true ... From the scraps of information in our mass media I found out about life in Israel. I was happy for their victories and was sympathetic to their adversities. It was dangerous in the USSR even to think of immigration to Israel, even mere thoughts could put you in the camp once and for all. In the 1970s, when immigration was allowed, I was an extramural student at the institute, had family and didn't think of departure.
I learned about the foundation of the state of Israel [44] when I was in exile in 1948. It was a great joy for me. The dream of Jabotinsky and many other Zionists came true ... From the scraps of information in our mass media I found out about life in Israel. I was happy for their victories and was sympathetic to their adversities. It was dangerous in the USSR even to think of immigration to Israel, even mere thoughts could put you in the camp once and for all. In the 1970s, when immigration was allowed, I was an extramural student at the institute, had family and didn't think of departure.
We got married in 1957. We didn't have a wedding party. We just had our marriage registered in the state marriage registration office and didn't have any celebration. At that time I just started working and practically had no money. We have lived together since that time. We are happy to have found each other. In 2007 we are going to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary.
When I came back to Tallinn, neither I nor my mother and brother observed Jewish traditions. It was very difficult at that time. There was no synagogue in Tallinn [41]. It burned down in 1944 after the town had been bombed. The rabbi of Tallinn, Aba Gomer [42], was shot by Germans during the occupation of Estonia. There were no kosher products. As a matter of fact it was hard to get any products. Besides, the Soviet regime took an ardent struggle against religion [43]. It was better to conceal religiousness, especially for workers. Estonians were not against religion, but the new-comers, Soviet people, who were more and more overwhelming the country, were totally intolerant of any kind of religiousness, especially Jewish traditions.
When I came back to Tallinn, neither I nor my mother and brother observed Jewish traditions. It was very difficult at that time. There was no synagogue in Tallinn [41]. It burned down in 1944 after the town had been bombed. The rabbi of Tallinn, Aba Gomer [42], was shot by Germans during the occupation of Estonia. There were no kosher products. As a matter of fact it was hard to get any products. Besides, the Soviet regime took an ardent struggle against religion [43]. It was better to conceal religiousness, especially for workers. Estonians were not against religion, but the new-comers, Soviet people, who were more and more overwhelming the country, were totally intolerant of any kind of religiousness, especially Jewish traditions.
Our apartment in Tallinn was occupied by new dwellers. Of course, nobody at that time would take any actions for the apartment to be returned to me, and I decided to leave it at that. First, I lived at my friend's place, then I rented a room. It was hard for me to find a job. I had two considerable disadvantages: I was a Jew, which meant a lot at that time, and I had been in exile. Thus I could not be trusted. Finally I was offered a job in a small construction and repair company. The director was from Belarus, who didn't know a single word of Estonian. He needed at least one foreman who would speak Estonian. I was employed owing to that.
Then I was hired by a large construction trust called Tallinnstroy. I was responsible for the construction of a residential house. The house was poorly designed and was to be constructed by different construction organizations which were included in the trust. I was the 13th foreman who worked on that site. The house was located on a broad street, where there was a large traffic flow of trucks and there was a tangible vibration of ground. In a week after I had started work I understood that something was wrong with that house. I found a significant obliquity of the walls. The upper panel was barely stable due to the skewing of the walls. I accepted the site in winter and understood that in spring, when the thawing began and the soil became soft, even the smallest shaking would be enough for the house to be ruined.
Then I was hired by a large construction trust called Tallinnstroy. I was responsible for the construction of a residential house. The house was poorly designed and was to be constructed by different construction organizations which were included in the trust. I was the 13th foreman who worked on that site. The house was located on a broad street, where there was a large traffic flow of trucks and there was a tangible vibration of ground. In a week after I had started work I understood that something was wrong with that house. I found a significant obliquity of the walls. The upper panel was barely stable due to the skewing of the walls. I accepted the site in winter and understood that in spring, when the thawing began and the soil became soft, even the smallest shaking would be enough for the house to be ruined.
Neither before nor after Stalin's death did I have hopes to be released from exile. The amnesty was declared after Stalin's death, but it referred to neither political prisoners at Gulag nor exiled. Only criminals were pardoned. Our future seemed gloomy. Only after the Twentieth Party Congress [36], when Khrushchev's speech [37] on divulgement of Stalin's crimes appeared in the press [37] there was a glimpse of hope. I was liberated only owing to the afore-mentioned resolution of the NKVD.
I remember the 5th of March 1953, the day of Stalin's death. We, the employees of the trust, got together for the mourning meeting in the assembly hall of the trust. A political officer started telling us about Stalin's life. Most of the workers at the trust suffered from Stalin's repressions: they were exiled or sent into exile after Gulag. I was astounded that many of them, the victims of Stalin's despotism, were crying during that meeting. The deputy director of the planning department, Koptyev, was sitting not far from me. He was a former Gulag prisoner but he was sobbing. We had to rejoice and laugh! Maybe the reasons for his crying were the futile years spent in the camp? Though, it might have been a sincere lamentation about Stalin.
It was much easier to work after Stalin's death. Of course, the exile was not cancelled, but there was less rigidity. Once there was a resolution of the central directorate to send eight people to Sverdlovsk Advanced Vocational Training Institute, where human resources for forest industry, construction department were trained. I wrote a letter to my boss asking to include me in the list of the trainees. He answered me very brusquely and told me to go back to my work.
It was much easier to work after Stalin's death. Of course, the exile was not cancelled, but there was less rigidity. Once there was a resolution of the central directorate to send eight people to Sverdlovsk Advanced Vocational Training Institute, where human resources for forest industry, construction department were trained. I wrote a letter to my boss asking to include me in the list of the trainees. He answered me very brusquely and told me to go back to my work.