During my school years I played football, I was member of a team. Later we played these games, mostly table tennis, and teams were set up by Catholic, Lutheran and Jewish societies.
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Dezso Deutsch
From my first grade on I attended another school too, where I studied Jewish subjects. It was not a proper yeshiva, it was a kind of pre-yeshiva. It was run by the Orthodox community and we were about the ten of us students there. We studied Humesh [the five books of Moses], Rashi [commentaries to the Talmud written by Rashi], Gemore [Gemara, part of the Talmud which interprets and explains the Mishna which preceded it], as well as Tosefot [critical and analytical glossaries attached to the Mishna and the Gemara]. The classes had their special choreography. There was a copy of the Talmud and we would read out from it, then the bocher [yeshiva student] explained it, then we discussed it and gave the explanation of the different stories and we were supposed to understand the different points of view of the sages. We translated everything into Yiddish. Then sometimes we discussed the same thing in Hungarian. The discussion was in Hungarian. There was no homework but a so-called review or report on Sundays. It was conducted by the rabbi and he asked questions on the subjects we had covered the previous week It was not a proper exam but rather a discussion of the material we had studied the previous week. He would ask questions and he would add his own explanation to the given question. I liked going to this place but it was quite stressful because I would come home from school, have my lunch and by two o’clock I had to be there. I generally studied until six and I had to do my homework in the evening [for the middle school.
Friday evenings and festival nights in general were decisive in the life of the family. [On Fridays] we would go to the synagogue with my brothers and sisters. Women would stay at home because they prepared the dinner with the help of the housemaid, of course, who was naturally a Gentile. She would serve the Friday meal and she would fetch the Saturday dish from the baker’s. [After worship] there came the Friday dinner. According to the tradition my father blessed the boys one after the other, every week, which was such an uplifting feeling. [For dinner] we often had stuffed fish, also soup and chicken stew. After dinner there was zmirot [psalms], singing. Then on Saturday mornings we would go to the synagogue. Then we would have lunch.
Livia Diaconescu
She had long hands, slender fingers and beautiful nails; when she played the piano, she stroked the keys. She had an unusual sensitiveness. When she felt upset or moved, she would sit at the piano. She particularly liked Beethoven (symphonies, sonatas and overtures), Chopin (nocturnes and waltzes), Brahms, Liszt and Schubert. Before we got to go to opera performances, she had already played for us at home the entire Rigoletto and The House of the Three Girls. She loved Gounod’s Ave Maria. When I was a child, I would sit next to my mother while she played. She would often play the Pastoral Symphony in the evening and that was the time when cows came back from the pastures. Every time I listen to this work, I can’t help recalling this episode, which I kept deep down in my heart. She also liked The Moonlight Sonata a lot. All I know about music I learnt from her.
My mother and father regularly went to the synagogue on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, until the synagogue burnt. I don’t know whether the fire was set by the Germans or by the Legionaries [4]. It was pulled down during the war and it remained in ruins after the war – walls only. I don’t know if they recovered anything. I didn’t think of the sacred rolls back then.
I don’t know the name of the rabbi, but I know he was also a religion teacher. I enjoyed the classes when he spoke about the history of the Jews.
My mother observed the tradition; she kept the Sabbath. She had a candlestick with one branch that she would light for Sabbath on Friday evenings. She would cover her hair with a white kerchief and would say the prayer above the candle. She had a very nice siddur, with a nacre cover. She went to the synagogue each Saturday and wouldn’t have it any other way. Men were separated from the women at the synagogue – women stood upstairs. I rarely went there as a child and this didn’t change as I grew up.
Since the minute I saw the light of day for the first time, I remember my father being a community man. He was tall, had a stately appearance and made himself noticed everywhere. He was severe by nature and very intelligent. He cared a lot about the Jewish community and he held many offices – he was a president for 3 years, around 1938, and then a vice-president. I have a photo of my father with Heinrich Israel, the president of the community in the period before World War II.
Focsani was a town with many Jews. There were two Jewish quarters. They were situated pretty close to each other, but then again, the town itself was small. I lived, however, in a Christian quarter, inhabited by many officers. The Jews in Focsani were tradesmen – some of them had big businesses. There was a Chamber of Commerce and my father was a member. We had manufacturing workshops and tailor’s shops, many stores, drugstores, pharmacists, craftsmen, clocksmiths, hatters, tinsmiths, photographers, physicians. The town had many synagogues – there were eight Orthodox ones [3].
The Zamfirescu family lived on Cotesti St. too. Mrs. Stela Zamfirescu had preconceptions about the Jews. I once entered her courtyard and was heading for the main stairs, when she told me ‘Get out, jidoavco [abusive word for female Jew in Romanian]!’. I didn’t know what jidoavca meant, but I thought it sounded like an insult, so I replied ‘You’re the jidoavca!’ and left the courtyard. They later turned out to be nice people and we became close.
Foscani was a quiet, patriarchal town, with large courtyards and nice, neat houses. The streets were paved. There were two Jewish streets: one of them was Dindos St., near the Jewish elementary school, the other one was Artelor St. At the end of Cotesti St., which opened on to the Main Street, carriages would wait for customers. Their owner was a Jew named Poitas, whose daughter, Lili Poitas, was a fellow-student of my sister’s in high school.
I love Focsani, the town of my childhood, though it looks terrible now. I couldn’t even recognize the Cotesti St., where we lived. All I recognized was a house that was opposite from the school and which lost its courtyard. Modern buildings were erected and the old ones stand neglected, dilapidated – it’s such a pity.
After Oscar’s death, Jean-Jacques inherited the factory. But he changed his name a little, making Finkelstein a bit more French. He once manufactured some object at the factory and named it Perla, after his grandmother.
After the war, he lived in Paris, in a very nice apartment on Avenue de Versailles.
During World War II, his family was supposed to be sent to the Drancy camp, but they managed to hide. They had two children (a girl and a boy), Michelle and Jean-Jacques. While they were hiding, aunt Germaine had an intestinal occlusion. They couldn’t get a doctor, for they would have all been caught, so she died earlier than she should have.
Oscar Finkelstein, my mother’s brother, left for France after World War I, married a French Jewish woman and owned a stationery factory near Paris.
They bought a house, a vila on Alba St [a street in the center of the city that still exists today, in the vicinity of the Regina Maria Square]. Their next door neighbor was Lucretiu Patrascanu [2]. During the war, the house was taken away from them and they rented a place from a Romanian who lived on Masina de paine St. [in the Colentina quarter, in the eastern suburbs of Bucharest]. They moved back after the war and he continued to work.
Romania
Another sister was Sophie Finkelstein. She married a lawyer herself (and a good one too), Bernard Simiu. He also attended the Commercial Academy (this is where they met) and worked at the Bragadiru brewery.
They left for Israel in the 1970s, but didn’t stay there for long; then they went to Canada, where they had a hard time at the beginning. Today, Angelica Sfetcu owns 110 apartments in Montreal that she rents. Adrian Sfetcu, who was a very good student, works for Bell Helicopters.
She was a beautiful woman who also married a lawyer, Moritz Terdiman. They lived in Husi, in a beautiful house, with a vineyard; during the war, they stayed at Mita’s.
Her husband was sent to the labor camp in Targu Jiu.
During World War II, he was sent to Transnistria [1] and this Mina stayed at Maria’s. I believe, however, that they provided for themselves. But what is praiseworthy for me is that my cousin, Isidor Librescu, aged 9, was the one who supported the family. The Germans had moved into the commercial school and he had come to do small business with them – he would buy and resell drugs or food that the Germans probably brought from somewhere else. One evening, he offered me some food I had never seen in my entire life. The Germans had an inspection once and he stayed hidden in a wooden box until the inspection was over.
Another child was Mina Finkelstein, who married a Librescu and lived in Focsani. Her husband was a very good lawyer, but his practice was rather small.
The third child was Maria Finkelstein, who married Jacques Ianconescu, a very good lawyer, nicknamed Jacques ‘silver spoon’, who was registered in a Masonic lodge.
She loved piano. My piano is from my mother. She was very proud of it because it had bronze keys.
Romania
My mother had taken piano lessons at the boarding school and my grandfather, having six daughters, kept three pianos at home.
My mother’s father was named Lewi Finkelstein. Although he didn’t wear traditional clothes, my grandfather was a very religious man, who went to the synagogue on a regular basis. At his place they kept all the holidays, used separate vessels for milk and meat and had special vessels for Pesach, which they only used once a year, on that particular occasion. My grandmother, Perla Finkelstein (nee Rabner), kept all the holidays and the Sabbath She observed the kashrut and went to a hakham-butcher who slaughtered poultry and animals in a ritual way. They only ate the parts that were allowed. There were also traditionalist Jews, but my grandparents would dress in a manner that was modern for that period, without breaking the religious prescriptions They spoke Yiddish and Romanian, but they didn’t teach us Yiddish so that they could speak freely about things we weren’t supposed to learn.
My maternal grandfather, Lewi Finkelstein, owned a store called ‘Lewi’s’ and gave it to her after the wedding. Even after my grandfather died, the business kept its old name, in his memory.
My father came to Focsani in the 1920s. He married my mother, Fanny Filderman (nee Finkelstein), both religiously, in front of a rabbi, and civilly. I don’t know more about this, since my parents didn’t talk about this period.
While he was serving in the army, during World War I, they wanted to send him to a military academy, but he deemed it pointless.