During the Second World War, my grandfather spent two years in a labor camp at Szeged. From there, he was moved to Odessa in Ukraine. Shortly before going to war, he married my grandmother, Lucretia, my father’s mother. Theodore was an orphan and was raised by an uncle. Lucretia had many brothers and sisters, so she went to Bucharest, where she worked for several years, as a maid at the hotel Opera, famous in the interwar period. In these pages, try to give a history of a love lived in broken words, laid on postcards with a pencil stub. My grandfather and grandmother were young and beautiful, but caught in the net of a war they did not want which challenged their lives and feelings. It was a love lived in absentia, sweat and humiliation. Deprived of food and rest, Theodore, my grandfather, managed to survive by miracle, finding the necessary force within the desire to return home to his young wife.
In a summer holiday, a few years ago, I was looking inside the old furniture drawers in the grandparents’ house and found some yellow postcards, covered with illegible handwriting, but mysterious. Hungarian postmark was dated 1943-1945 and there was grandfather’s signature. All summer long, I deciphered the text letters on a rickety wooden table, outside in the yard. From there was born a true story, almost incredible to me, the love of my grandparents that I remember old, wrinkled and working, but whose faces I try to reconstruct it as young by the time travel.
Young Lucretia in Bucharest
Young Theodore before the war
People from Cluj at work in Bucharest 1934
WAR STORIES ROMANIA MOVIE with OLIVER NORTH