Eliška Gazdová

* 1944

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  • "[Mom was told] that in a day or two a car would come from Petrovice and we would be moved out. We were the only ones who found out in advance. So my mother might have given something to the neighbours, some cutlery or even a couch she dragged to the neighbours. Now it was being loaded, I had this big doll, I got it in Kutná Hora from the Russian girls who were in our yard, there were radio operators and I was a one year old kid. Such a big doll. And my mother said to me, 'Do you want it?' I said, 'Yes.' 'Let's load it up.' So the doll made it all the way to Lipová. What's loaded is loaded. Because my mother saw that they were going to move us to Petrovice, so she went to the post office and told the postmistress to send the next mail to Petrovice. We hadn't received anything from dad by then. But he wrote. And his next postcard came, and the postmistress immediately crossed out Bernartice, wrote Petrovice, and threw it in the sack, the outgoing mail. And from then on, we got the first message from dad, so then we wrote to him. They moved us to Petrovice, there was a state farm down there. And we stayed in a former pub. The Čechs lived downstairs with my grandmother and grandfather. And we lived upstairs, we had a kitchen and a room. And there was a big hall next door. And there it was written in Greek letters, because I guess there were Greeks there before. And some Greeks stayed in Petrovice."

  • "[I knew that dad would arrive on Wednesday] on the fast train from Prague, which then took seven hours, and I arranged it with the master if I could leave two hours early from teaching. We were already sewing there, so I made up the two hours, and when I left I said to the master, 'My dad is coming.' I turned around, ran to the train, bought a ticket to Ramzová and got off there. I waited for the express train, I got on, it came back, I think in February or so. It was winter, the skiers were there, and a full train, two cars, and now I got on the side of the train and I was going through it. These were compartments, I didn't see him anywhere. People: 'There's nowhere to sit, what are you pushing.' I walked into the other car and it was without a compartment and I saw him standing in the aisle, he couldn't sit anymore, so he was standing in the aisle and I recognized him right away because my dad was always the same whereas I was different. Seven years or 14 years, that's a big difference. So I started smiling at him, and I walked up to him, and he was looking at me and wondering what it was. And I walked up to him and I said, 'Dad.' And that's when he realized who I was, and we hugged. So I greeted him like that, nobody knew about it, I didn't even tell my mom that he was ahead of me like that. There were some women sitting there going, 'That's love, that's love.' If they had any idea we hadn't seen each other in seven years."

  • "Thanks to the fact that we were in Pálkovice, my dad took courage and said to himself, I didn't do anything, why should I go to jail. And he was still making arrangements with one of those Gypsies, a single guy fifteen years younger, and together they went to the border. They got somewhere, I don't know exactly, got off and then walked into the woods. And one day they were walking, and suddenly they see two border guards with a dog facing each other. So they stay there and they say, well, that's it. They stayed standing, they didn't run, they didn't move, they sent the dog, the dog sniffed them, they called the dog back, they turned around and walked away, the border guards. So they kept on going, looking to see where the border was. The next day, they hear the border guards coming over there again, so they hid behind a bush somewhere, and now they hear the border guard say, 'Look, it's those two,' and they went on. So the second time they let them go like that. They thank the boys if they're alive. And so then they hit the wires, so with the suitcase one of them picked it up, held it up, they went under, and that's how they got to West Germany, and then they were in the camp where these refugees were being rounded up."

  • Full recordings
  • 1

    Lipová-lázně, 02.12.2024

    (audio)
    duration: 01:50:51
    media recorded in project Stories of 20th Century
  • 2

    Lipová-lázně, 15.01.2025

    (audio)
    duration: 56:41
    media recorded in project Stories of 20th Century
  • 3

    Jeseník, 22.03.2025

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    duration: 02:23:02
    media recorded in project Stories of the region - Central Moravia
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The citizens of Bernartice are rightly waiting for an end to this villain’s rampage

Eliška Gazdová (Slavická) in her childhood
Eliška Gazdová (Slavická) in her childhood
photo: archive of the witness

Eliška Gazdová was born on 23 June 1944 in Kutná Hora as the third of four children to parents Alois and Ludmila Slavický. After the war, the family settled in the border area, depopulated after the removal of the Germans. They bought a twenty-two hectare farm in the village of Bernartice in the Jeseníky region. Two years later, the father was sentenced to six months in prison for sedition against the Republic. He appealed on the spot and another trial was scheduled to take place on 30 September 1952. In the meantime, Alois Slavický crossed the border to the West. For eight years he lived in the Federal Republic of Germany and in Chicago, USA. In absentia, he was sentenced to two and a half years in prison and the forfeiture of all his property for leaving the Republic. The family in Bernartice had half of their property confiscated and was evicted by the authorities to the remote Petrovice. Eliška was then unable to study. She was only given the choice between the occupations of weaver, seamstress or saleswoman. She chose seamstress and apprenticed in Prostějov. After a large-scale amnesty in 1960, her father returned to Czechoslovakia to visit his family. Eliška Gazdová married Radoš Gazda in 1966. In 1973 the couple moved to the village of Lipová-lázně. Eliška Gazdová worked in the clothing industry, graduated from an industrial school in the evening and after the Velvet Revolution fulfilled her dream - she taught at the family school in Jeseník. In Lipová-lázně, the Gazdas experienced devastating floods both in 1997 and in 2024.