Interviewer: Ildiko Molnar Date of interview: November Bernat Sauber, the more than year-old president of the Jewish community of Marosvasarhely, is called Beri by his colleagues. He is a stocky man with a severe look.
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But once you get to know him better, it turns out he has a heart of gold. He is seriously and responsibly preoccupied with his small Jewish community. To the extent his state of health allows him, he comes to the office to solve the problems. In any case, he cannot stand to stay at home and do nothing; it's not in his nature.
One of the two rooms of the office is his empire, which he shares with the secretary, Sandor Ausch. He manages quite well the document piles on his enormous desk, riport börtön swiss anti aging he often surrounds himself with books, including religious ones to help him conduct the services. My paternal grandfather was Menyhert Sauber. He digitális anti aging arcképekben born in the s.
He was from Szilagysag originally, from a village called Nagysomkut. He had two sons, Ignac and my father Heinrich. Grandfather died in during the Holocaust.
I don't know what my grandfather's occupation was, because when I was born, he had already divorced my grandmother, so I didn't know him. They probably divorced sometime before First they divorced legally, and then a rabbi separated them. I don't remember him; he never visited us, and I riport börtön swiss anti aging visit him, either, and my grandmother and him cut any connection with each other. Only the boys kept in touch with their mother. I don't know what caused this drastic separation; it was never brought up in any discussion.
My grandmother, Bella Goldstein, was a descendant of a rich family from Magyarlapos. It was a small landowner's family that later went broke. She had a sister in Szaszregen called Ida Frenkel. Grandmother stayed with us in Magyarlapos. My uncle Ignac Sauber lived separately. I don't know much about my father's brother, Ignac.
He was younger than my father. His wife, auntie Gizi, originally from Kolozsvar, was a piano teacher, and an eccentric lady. The relation between my uncle and us was a distant one.
I remember that my auntie was so house-proud that we had to take off our shoes before going in, and this wasn't accustomed in our family; at that time this habit didn't exist.
We, and people generally, only had rag rugs; I don't know whether there was anyone who had a Persian carpet. They weren't too religious, and they rarely went szemcsepp piros fáradt szemre the synagogue. My uncle bought a truck and transported wood and board from the hills neighboring Magyarlapos to the nearest railway station, Galgo, 30 kilometers from Magyarlapos.
This is a village between Magyarlapos and Des. After the Holocaust his son Pal Sauber emigrated to America. Ignac and Gizi died during the Holocaust. My father was Heinrich Sauber. He probably finished eight grades and he surely went to cheder. He was an observant Jew. He grew up in Budapest; he went there from Magyarlapos at the age of We had some relative there; my father went to him to learn a profession.
He worked as an apprentice in the grocery store owned by that relative of ours. Later he obtained the assistant qualification, which allowed him to work as a sales clerk. I think he worked there as a sales clerk for eight years, until he joined the army in World War I. He was a sergeant and fought at Piave, where the Serbs destroyed a dam and flooded the Austro-Hungarian troops. But he survived. He was released from the army early, and he didn't want to stay in Pest [Budapest].
He came home and got married. He married my mother in In Magyarlapos Jews married Jews.
My parents didn't get acquainted through a matchmaker. Usually, only if there were quite a lot of girls in a family and there was nobody to propose to them, or they didn't meet the expectations, they turned to a matchmaker. When my father got married, he got his marriage portion. At that time the custom was that the wife should come with the dowry, and it wasn't at all a small sum of money.
I don't know how much was the dowry my father received, but it helped him start off, as he opened a grocery store. My maternal grandfather was Mendel Berkovits. Riport börtön swiss anti aging was from Maramarossziget originally. He was a well-situated man; he had a going kosher butchery, but he didn't work because he had two Christian assistants. It's an interesting fact that in every larger Jewish store the owners couldn't manage by themselves, they hired help or apprentices who usually were Hungarians.
In Lapos, next to each kosher slaughter house there was a treyf one, as well. In the ritual butcheries one could only buy kosher meat, respectively the upper part, the forepart of the cattle.
We ate the brisket, the ribs, called leiterl in Yiddish. Jews were not allowed to eat the back end, so it was sold in the other butcheries, where the Christians used to shop.
Thus Riport börtön swiss anti aging got to eat the better part. My grandfather used to buy cattle and took it to the slaughter house, where it was slaughtered by the shochet. The Jews bought from him the forepart, while the Christians bought the back end. In order to be allowed to sell it, the shochet had to cut out the veins from the forepart.
The back part had so many veins it riport börtön swiss anti aging impossible to release all the blood from it, that's why Jews were not allowed to eat it. There was a special Jewish man, the controller, the so-called mashgiach in Hebrew. If one sent the Christian servant to riport börtön swiss anti aging meat, it was packed in a sheet of paper, roped, sealed with sealing-wax and signed in Hebrew by the mashgiach, to prevent the Christian servant from getting it in touch with a piece of pork or bacon.
I only remember my maternal grandmother, Miriam Berkovits, as an year-old woman. I can still see her sitting in her armchair. She could hardly speak, but she dictated to the whole family. The old lady was originally from Hungary, I think from Transdanubia, she even had that specific accent. The last time I was there was after the war. It was still standing. It was demolished later. The house had three or four rooms.
I can clearly remember there was a part in the house, which had a tent-like construction with a mobile roof built in. Its structure included a cylinder with a wooden wheel on it. On the wheel there was a rope tied to two beams that pushed out the two sides the roof.
When Sukkot came, we pulled the rope and the roof opened up. If it rained, we closed it again. It was a rarity to have such a house. During the holiday of Sukkot my grandfather used to eat and sleep in that tent because the laws required it. My mother's brother, Mihaly Berkovits didn't live in Magyarlapos, but in Disznajo. He was a fairly rich man. He had a nice, big store.
Later my brother Dezso ended up working there as an assistant, until he joined the army. Mihaly's wife was Jewish, and they had a daughter, Dalma. They were religious, but not their daughter.
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Mihaly got old and couldn't observe the traditions anymore. He died in Disznajo in the s. Mihaly's wife, his daughter and her two children were deported. None of them returned. Dalma's husband was taken to forced labor, but I don't know anything about him.
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He didn't come back either, that's for sure. One of my aunts, Sara Indig, nee Berkovits, lived in quite poor conditions. Aunt Indig had six children, who were about my age or younger. Her husband Jozsef Indig was a tinsmith, but his workshop wasn't going that well. One of his sons separated from the workshop and became a steeple tinsmith. He was doing well, but it was a dangerous job.
He was the only one in the county who climbed up any steeple, and people used to watch him. Jozsef, Sara's husband, died unexpectedly in His family was deported. All of them came home except one of the daughters. Berta was my mother's sister. She had two sons. Mihaly owned two stores in Magyarlapos. He was a wholesale trader, but they sold per unit, as well. There was nothing they didn't have: from boot-soles, leather, cotton, sugar, rice, iron, kerosene or gas to horseshoe nails and bolts, one could find anything.
They were very well-situated, and my uncle was a quite avaricious man.
They eventually went broke. I was around 15 then. My wealthy uncle wasn't managing the store by then because he was paralyzed. I can still remember the poor man was rolled over in the bed. He wasn't old at all; he was some 50 years old when it happened.
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His son, Lazar took over the store and he revived it again. In Magyarlapos only the state institutions had phones, no private persons or stores had, except for this store. On Thursdays it had a tremendous turnover.
The Jews used to go here on Thursday afternoon to buy the flour, sugar, oil, some kind of a margarine made out of szemüveg lencse típusok and kerosene they needed for Saturday.
A family usually bought kilos of flour. They didn't sell it in packs of 1 kilo, but there were these large paper bags with this special kind of opening. One used to measure it — that's how they sold the flour.
It wasn't pre-packed flour just in bulk. They always bought approximately two such bags of flour. They bought some 4 kilos of whites to make challah, pasta and anything else they needed. Macaroni was an unknown notion. We heard of macaroni but to buy it, or biscuits, was impossible in Magyarlapos. However, there was chocolate. One of my cousins, Sandor Nemes, worked in Mihaly Karl's store as an assistant. There were four assistants, and he was one of riport börtön swiss anti aging.
I used to go there myself on Thursdays to help out and cousin Lazar paid me for that. Only sugar was pre-packed like today. If he needs a pair of boot-soles for one of his children, wrap it in paper and place it at the bottom of the bag, and on top of all place about three kilos of flour.
One kilo of sugar cost 32 lei, so you can see how expensive it was. We only did it for this uncle of ours, because he was the poorest. After World War II, when I came home from captivity inI met my family in Des, because in the meantime my whole family had moved to Des: my brothers and sisters, and my whole-trader cousin Karl's family. Lazar was taken to forced labor somewhere in Ukraine, while his wife and two children were deported and died.
I met Lazar who managed the store, we talked and we looked back on our lives in Magyarlapos.