Eliška Kopřivová

"My daddy defended the way they did it here (communist power - editor´s note). And as they wanted only one party to be there, they would dispose of everything else. Every year they were able to exchange the fields, even though some were still keeping theirs for themselves. My father discussed the matter over beers with others. But that was only one party at that time, one could not say anything. It was not possible to go beyond anything. Some things were simply ordered and done. Nobody could change it. Only what was ordered."

"They gave him (editor´s note: husband) a mining locomotive. There were all prisoners there, so there was no change at all. There were stones with sharp spikes on the walls, perhaps right down to the locomotive. At one point my husband leaned in on the locomotive, somebody needed something, and at that moment one of those spikes caught him. The locomotive went on, and the husband rotated around the spike. As soon as the locomotive stopped, he fell down to the ground. I always relaxed with him. His smile and his encouragement inspired me. He did not consider himself to be important, he did what he could for others. I was surprised that there was still someone to tell what I really meant. Because in the 1950s what we were saying was also monitored. We (in the hospital in contact with patients) have been ordered to say nothing about how we were, what we were."