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Chapter 1 - My Paternal Grandparents

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I.  Memory of Grandparents


A.    The Day of My Sipos Grandmother’s Burial

     

My father’s parents were Péter Sipos and Zsuzsanna Molnár. They had two children, my aunt Zsuzsanna and my father Peter.  Zsuzsanna married my uncle Sándor Orbán. My father married my mother, Rózsa Kerezsy.

 

I have no memory of my grandma Sipos. She died in 1934 when I was only five years old, and my sister Rózsa was nine. But I vividly remember the day of her burial. My parents left for the funeral early in the afternoon, and left Rózsa and me with an 18-year-old girl who lived in our housing block that surrounded our courtyard.  She promised my parents that they did not need to worry about us.  A small group of kids was playing in the courtyard, and it was nice, warm, summery weather.

 

[VAS] In many parts of Europe, it is common on public roads to have large gates that open onto courtyards that are shared by many properties. The courtyard can be surrounded by one or more buildings, which can be homes, apartments, garages, or other buildings. Those living around a courtyard can easily form an immediate community.

 

We lived in a large house on this courtyard, which included other buildings use to store animal feed and agricultural machines, all of which suggested a farmer had once owned the house.  Sitting in a corner of the courtyard was a very old feed-cutting machine that most people called a chopping machine. As we played, some of the kids drifted over toward this big rusty machine, and then we tried to figure out how to entertain ourselves with it.

 

The babysitting girl, who should have protected us from something as dangerous as an old rusty cutter, wasn’t nearby because she was talking to some young man at the other corner of the courtyard. So we kids were left to entertain ourselves, which wasn’t the smartest or safest idea.

 

The cutting machine was designed to crush and chop corn stalks, which were then fed to the cows. The machine had a large drive wheel, connected to a gear shaft that powered the cutter to chop the feed. A gearbox cover had fallen off over the years, leaving the gears visible and accessible.

 

First, we tried to move the big drive wheel. But the machine was so rusty that the wheel hardly moved 10-15 degrees (a small fraction of its 360-degree complete rotation). But even this little movement was enough to move the gears, and we had great fun with that. My 9-year old sister Rosie was the biggest among us, and she moved the big gear wheel.

 

We soon discovered that if we put some wood into the gears, it would crush it in a way we had never before seen. After a while, someone came up with the magical idea of what would happen if someone put a hand into the gears. Nobody volunteered. Then, I finally spoke up and said that I was brave enough to do it if nobody else would.

 

Everyone held their breaths and they watched me. So, I stuck my hand in. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen.

 

What had happened next was a blood-curdling scream that tore through the peaceful evening. I pulled out my hand, and blood was gushing from a horribly crumpled finger.

 

The babysitter came running and took me and she wrapped my finger in some bandages. And that’s how I stayed until my parents came home from the funeral.

 

My Father immediately took me to the hospital at the Great Forest [Nagy Erdo], where a surgeon bandaged my hand. It remained bandaged for months, until finally my finger healed.

 

Ultimately, it was my great fortune that the drive wheel could not rotate fully, otherwise it might have destroyed my entire right hand, not just my fingertip.

 

So, that’s mostly what I know of my Sipos grandmother, is what happened on the day of her funeral.

 

B.    Sipos Grandfather

     

Of all my grandparents, I know most about my Sipos grandfather, my father’s father. This is probably because he died when he was 90 years old.

 

When I was young, I often visited him with my parents. Later, I had many conversations with him in 1945-49 when I lived in Debrecen and he was only 76-80 years old.

 

He lived on the outskirts of Debrecen in a vegetable and grape garden which was called Vénkert.

 

[VAS: I have a hard time identifying exactly where this is. Google maps shows it a bit southwest of Debrecen’s Nagy Erdo (Great Forest), in what is now a huge Communist-style tenement building.]

  

He was the csösz, which means a security guard who walked the grounds morning and evening to ensure nobody steals the harvest from the vineyard and fruit trees. They paid him a small amount of money and gave him a small shack to live in. Separate from this guard duty, he worked as a day laborer in the nearby vineyards.

 

My grandfather was never sick. He worked all day, he ate enormous amounts of fruit, drank delicious wines, and smoked raw tobacco in his pipe, which was never mixed with any additives.

 

I always loved to visit him because his little house was always filled with fruit and he radiated a calm, peaceful, wise outlook on life. He was never wealthy, but he never cared about money at all. He lived out his 90 years of life in peace and harmony with nature, without any doctors or medicine.

 

I visited him until I was 14 years old (1943). And then also after the war when I returned home from Szombathely, where I again found him there in his little shack, which is where he survived through the war and the Soviet invasion.

 

In late 1945, after my parents returned home from being prisoners of war, he came to live with us. By that time, there was no further need for a security guard.

 

Five years later, when my parents moved to Budapest, my grandfather moved to Bagamér [west of Debrecen on the Romanian border] to live with his daughter and that is where he lived out the last years of his life.

 

On the last day of his life, at 90 years old, he worked the entire day. And in the middle of the night, in his dreams, his heart stopped beating. That is how he died. He lived nicely and he died nicely and quietly without bothering anyone.

 

C.    My Father      

1.      Early Life

       

My father was born in 1898, during a peaceful, war-free time. This was during the time of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, which was Europe’s wealthiest state and was ruled by the Austrian emperor.

 

Throughout Hungarian history, there have been relatively few peaceful, war-free periods. The pagan Tartar hordes rampaged through the country in the year 1241 ….

 

[VAS: Here he goes into some strange summary of Hungarian history, which is historically dubious, and better obtained elsewhere. I’ve skipped most of it.] …

 

After 150 years, after Hungarians drove the Turks from Hungary with the Austrian’s help. Thereafter, the Austrians ruled Hungary for the next 245 years.

 

My father was born near the end of this 245-year reign. And because the Austro-Hungarian Empire had become so powerful, both economically and militarily, the rest of Europe decided it had to be destroyed. At that time, today's superpowers were already strengthening themselves to make that happen. Other countries believed they could not prosper while the Austo-Hungarian empire remained happy, calm, and peaceful. They had to blow Europe apart, just as it has always been necessary to blow up everything everywhere.

 

[VAS: Umm, this is a ridiculously simplistic and apologetic view for the origins of WWI.]

 

2.      World War 1; Mounted Police

       

My father was 16 years old when World War I broke out. He volunteered to become a soldier and then he fought through four years of the war. He received multiple injuries, and many commendations.

 

I find it interesting that I first donned a miliary uniform when I was 14 years old, and I was only 16 when World War II ended in Hungary on April 14, 1945.

 

After World War I ended in 1918, my father became a member of the horse-mounted police. After a short time, they promoted him to deputy officer.

 

But in 1924, he had to step down from this position because he married my mom, and he did not have enough money to keep his job. You see, at the time, a mounted police officer could only get married and keep his job of he had enough money to guarantee a pension for his wife if he died. My father did not have enough money to guarantee a pension, so he had to resign.

 

My mother [Kereszi Rosza] grew up as a very wealthy noble girl. But when she decided to marry my father, who was not a noble man, her parents disowned her both from the family and the wealth. So my mother paid a heavy price for this marriage.

 

My father also paid a heavy price for the marriage. From his secure, well-paying police position, he ended up on the street, with no job. Hungary was in a terrible financial condition after it lost World War 1, and especially after that scandalous Treaty of Trianon that followed after it.

 

[VAS: It is difficult to understand modern Hungary without understating the This Treaty of Trianon, which more than 100 years later remains an incredibly sore topic for many Hungarians. For example, this website claims the treaty was "The greatest catastrophe to have befallen Hungary since the battle of Mohacs in 1526." It further claims,

 

“The Treaty of Trianon in 1920, was extremely harsh on Hungary and unjustifiably one-sided. The resulting "treaty" cost Hungary an unprecedented 2/3 of her territory, and 1/2 of her total population or 1/3 of her ethnic-Hungarian population. Add to this the loss of all her seaports, up to 90% of her vast natural resources, industry, railways, and other infrastructure. Millions of Hungarians saw borders arbitrarily redrawn around them, without plebiscites, ignoring President Wilson's lofty goal of national self-determination. The absurd treaty ignored a millenia of nation building and age-old cultural affiliations, created arbitrary borders and new countries, and created millions of new minorities who today struggle for survival of the ethnic identity.”

 

3.      Railroad Work

       

My father’s many wartime awards, and his service with the police, helped him get a position as a laborer at the Ózd steel factory. [Ózd is a city north of Eger on the Slovakia border.] At this job, he barely earned enough money to avoid starving to death.

 

They put my father to work on a slag train. The factory had a narrow track railroad that used to transport slag from the smelters to a tailing dump.

 

Operating this train was very dangerous because slag was loaded in fiery hot conditions, straight out of the smelter, so the whole train turned into a shaking and crackling machine carrying an intense fire that lit up the night sky. To a distant observer this must have looked terrifying, like the devil’s own train going into and out of hell itself.

 

[VAS: This picture is from a report titled Narrow Gauge Steam Locomotives And Their Builders In Hungary at figure 18, called, “Locomotive No. 36 of Ózd Iron Works meter gauge industrial railway, MÁVAG type 966.” So who knows, this might be the very train he worked on.]

 

When the train reached the top of the slag heap, he had to position each railcar into a special assembly that would empty the car using some machine. This was a very dangerous job with a high risk of fatal accidents.

 

After a few years, my father was hired by MÁV, the Hungarian Nation Railway system. It was very difficult to obtain a job for MÁV, so he felt fortunate to get it. He began work as a locomotive stoker [the person who shovels coal into the locomotive engine], and certainly the experience he obtained during the few years that he worked at the Ozd factory helped him greatly.

 

At MÁV, they had the massive steam locomotives used to transport passengers and freight.

 

MÁV was the largest and most prestigious institution in the country. Promotions happened in a routine and orderly fashion. New recruits were hired on a probationary basis, which mean they could be fired at any time without any right to severance or pension. After about three to five years of probation, they typically got promoted to permanent employees. But due to the nation's dire financial condition, the company had limited ability to promote workers to permanent positions. And because of this, they were unable to promote my father to a permanent position for 11 years.

 

Meanwhile, he constantly studied the railway system’s laws and regulations; the signaling and switching systems; the operation, possible breakdowns, and repair of locomotives; and all other topics related to railroads, but especially those pertaining to hauling. He completed every course taught by MÁV, and soon after they made him a permanent employee, he became a certified locomotive driver. But despite having the certification, they still had him work in the position of a stoker [i.e., shoveling coal]. But he never lost faith that one day he would get promoted to the job of train driver.

 

Soon after MÁV hired him, he was placed onto a main line where express trains traveled to Budapest and back. The trains left early in the morning at 6 AM to arrive in Budapest by 10 AM, where they loaded the locomotive with coal and water, cleaned out the slag from furnace, ate lunch, and by 2 PM the express train headed back to Debrecen.

 


[VAS: This is a MÁVAG Class 424 locomotive, a massive Hungarian-built train used throughout Europe from 1924 until after World War II.]

 

The locomotive consumed 140 tons of coal on the way to Budapest, and another 140 tons back to Debrecen. That's 280 tons of coal for the round trip.

 

The express train stopped at 8 stations, with a 20 minute break at the midway point at Szolnok, where the stoker – my father – had to clean the slag out of the furnace that had accumulated during the two hours since they had left. Then, they could start with a fresh fire for the remaining two hours of the trip.

 

De-slagging the furnace required extraordinary work. The slag from 70 tons of burnt coal had to be broken up and shaken out, all while the fire continued to burn in the furnace. This required both great skill and extraordinary strength. And then add to this the unbelievable physical work required to shovel 280 tons of coal into the furnace during the 7-hour trip. Then you get some idea of the type of manpower that was required to work as a locomotive stoker on an express train.

 

He did this job for 10 years! Every day he stood in the two-piece locomotive and coal car, shoveling 280 tons of coal into the furnace, being tossed to and fro on the moving train, with the ground zooming by under his feet at 100 kilometers per hour. At the end of his work day, when the locomotive went to the heating house for its evening rest, the furnace had to be thoroughly cleaned out so that a new fire could again be started in the morning.

 

He was never sick, and he worked with exacting discipline and precision. He was the epitome of a railway worker, and for this he received many awards.

 

When they finally promoted him to the position of a locomotive driver, he immediately became an instructor. Later, he was made the foreman, which was the highest possible rank he could achieve.



 

4.      Transfer to Szombathely

       

[VAS: In the summer of 1944, the front lines of WWII between Nazi and Soviet forces was around Ukraine/Moldova (east of Hungary).  Hungary, Romania, and other nations more or less supported the Nazis.  On August 23, 1944, there a coup overthrew the existing Romanian government, causing it to transfer allegiance from the Nazis to the Allies (USSR, USA, Britain). By this time, the tide of the war in the East had changed and Romania likely wanted to avoid being caught on the wrong side. In Hungary, the news was not welcome.]

 

On August 23, 1944, when the traitorous Romanian army transferred their loyalties from the Germans to the Soviets in Southern Ukraine, the Red Army was given a clear path to invade Hungary through Romania. Indeed, less than two weeks later, on September 4, 1944, the Red Army appeared in Transylvania. The Soviet army was wildly bigger and more powerful than the Hungarian army, which had no chance to stop it. The Red Army pressed forward very quickly toward the west with all of their motorized machines.

 

Throughout eastern Hungary, everyone was trying to escape from the coming onslaught.  The plan was to move to the western part of the country. This exodus included the civilian population, government agencies, and organizations of all kinds.  This included MÁV, the Hungarian railway system. With only a few hours notice, they packed up the locomotives and other railway machinery and fled their operations to the city of Szombathely, close to the western border. Because my father worked for MÁV, my family moved with them.


 

Szombathely is where I visited my family during Christmas 1944, and also where I survived the terrible aerial bombing of the Szombathely train station and neighboring areas by American bombers.

 

[VAS: While Elek’s family moved west to escape the Red Army, Sara Vigh 3 years old and her family stayed in Debrecen and lived through a harrowing occupation of the city by Soviet forces. But that’s another story.]

 

5.      To Germany, March 1945

   

In March 1945, MÁV was assigned to transport by train a large group of orphan children from the city of Kaposvar to Germany.

 

Two MÁV crew members from Szombathely were requested to drive a train that would carry 650 kids and another 270 teachers and other adults. This order was given to my father, and his distant relative Sipos Janos, a locomotive driver, who was living with my father’s family.  My mother and sister, as family members, went with them. The destination was Pocking, Germany.

 

This is how my parents ended up in the West.  When they got to Pocking, there was no longer room for them, so they were sent to nearby Ering, a city next to the Inn River. Once there, they were given temporary housing near a spur track close to the train station. That’s where they ended up as prisoners of the Americans. And with this, their escape was finished. [More is written about this in Chapter 7.]

 

[VAS: After translating the last three paragraphs, I had to read it at least five times because something about it was strange, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. At first, I read it as a humanitarian effort to save helpless orphans and teachers. But then I questioned why anyone would care about orphans during the middle of such a meat-grinder war, when everyone was worried about their own survival and self-preservation? Why would anyone incur the expense or effort to transport a bunch of orphans to Germany, which would just burden an already overwhelmed society? And then, only two railway employees for a train carrying 920 passengers? That’s when it dawned on me what this was likely describing, and a sickening feeling came over me.

 

 Additional research shows this event happened just weeks after the Red Army’s horrifying and brutal Siege of Budapest, and during the Nazi’s last major military offensive of World War II, called Operation Spring Awakening, from March 6 to 15, 1945. In this offensive, the Germans tried to secure oil reserves by attacking from north of Lake Balaton, moving south around both sides of the lake. During this offensive, the Nazi’s occupied the city of Kaposvar, only 30 miles south of the lake. It was a brutal campaign for a brutal Nazi army, not a situation where they would have cared about humanitarian concerns, let alone orphans.

 

 A Google search confirmed that Kaposvar had an enormous Jewish population, and that the Nazis operated a concentration camp in Pocking, Germany; it was a “side camp” of the Flossenbürg concentration camp. 

 

 According to a Jewish history website (jewishvirtuallibrary.org/kaposvar), more than 2,300 Jews lived in Kaposvar in 1941. And then this: “In 1940 all Jewish men were moved to a labor camp and after the German invasion in March 1944 around 6,000 Jews including refugees were concentrated in a ghetto around the synagogue in May. On July 4 all were deported to Auschwitz.” This doesn’t explain what happened to the orphans taken away in March 1944, but it shows the murderous mindset, and also describes movement of Jews in March 1944.

  

I felt sick recalling images – from movies and the Holocaust Museum – of trains transporting Jewish people to concentration camps. I had never considered much who drove those trains, or why, or their complicity, but this paragraph suggests that my grandfather was among them for at least one horrifying trip. My grandmother and aunt were also on the train, all of them trying to escape the terrors of the Red Army. 

 

 The word “order” suggests he had no choice in the matter, and prior paragraphs describe a deeply disciplined and obedient man who likely obeyed orders without question. But still, excuses or not, knowingly or not, he played a role in this horrifying crime.

  

But just as it was naïve of me – using my 2020s mindset – to imagine that a story about moving orphans must have a humanitarian purpose, it is perhaps also naïve to think that my grandfather, an unsophisticated laborer from Debrecen – who spent his childhood in the army, then as a mounted police officer, and much of his life shoveling coal and driving a train – had any idea what the Nazi’s were doing, or that he comprehended having any role in an atrocity. At the time, even most Germans were ignorant of concentration camps, so why would a Hungarian locomotive engineer have any reason to question what was happening? Perhaps this episode reveals nothing about his motives or understanding of what he did, but it is still gut-wrenching to think he played a role in this darkest chapter of human history.

 

6.  Return to Debrecen


On November 15, 1945, my parents returned home from Germany. The locomotive was put back into service and it returned home with all who wanted to return.

 

When the war ended, essentially all MÁV locomotives had all been either destroyed or stolen by the Soviets. The American military had an enormous number of steam locomotives that they sold to the Eastern European countries for the price of scrap metal. They thought it would be more economical to sell them for the price of scrap metal then to pay to ship them back to the United states. MÁV bought 500 of the Class 411 locomotives from the American army for use as freight trains. We called these trains the “Trumans” after the American president. These locomotives had 16-ton axle pressure, and could tow 1025 tons, meaning they could tow 1,800 tons at 30 kilometers per hour.

 

I do not know who other than Hungary purchased Truman trains, but it was well understood that steam locomotives had to be used throughout Eastern Europe due to the economic difficulties. The steam engine operated with only 5% efficiency and is among the least efficient machines around; it cannot get close to matching the 95% efficiency of the Kando electric locomotive, or even the 25% efficiency of a diesel locomotive.

 

After my parents returned home, my father continued where he left off when he had to escape from the Soviets. In other words, he he again became a locomotive driver instructor.

 

7.  Moving to Budapest; Retirement

   

After two years in Debrecen, [late 1947, early 1948], they transferred my father to Budapest. During this time, I attended the Budapest University of Technology. A few years later he retired, and continued to live there.

 

After his retirement, I got to know him much better. He was very easy to speak with, had a great sense of humor, and a calm demeanor.

 

My father constantly told me, “Get educated, become a better man than your father.”  Having lived as a laborer and working extremely hard, he saw how easy it was for engineers with a diploma to make double the income that he had worked so incredibly hard to earn.

 

Even after his retirement, he could not live without working. The building where he lived had a bakery. Baked bread was delivered to shops in large baskets suspended on a wire. Over time, the baskets wore out, the wires broke, and holes in the baskets would get so large that bread would fall out. At that point, they used to just throw out the basket. My father offered to fix the baskets for them. Over the years, he repaired many hundreds of baskets for minimal payment. A typical bakery used about 300 wire baskets, and soon other factories also took their baskets to him to get repaired.


 

8.  Life After Wife’s Death.

   

At the end of my mother's life, she had a sickness that kept her confined to bed. My father nursed her and watched over her, which became the primary duty of his life. They had spent 51 years in a good marriage, respecting one another.

 

When my mother died in 1975, my father not only lost his life companion, but also his purpose for living. He did not want to live alone without my mother and after about two years of emotional suffering, he died in 1978 when he was 80 years old.

 

He had been a pure, decent, disciplined, dutiful man who respected laws and his God. He was a genuine father figure.

 

9.  Zsuzsa Sipos’s Greed and Treachery


My sister Rozsi had two daughters, Zsuzsa and Illona.  My niece Zsuzsa was an immoral, thieving, money-grubber who contributed to my father’s early death.

 

After my mother died, my father was left alone in a two-room apartment.  As a family, we decided it would be best for him to live with a younger woman who could care for him and brighten his days a bit. We placed an ad in the newspaper saying a 78-year old man was searching for a life companion to care for him, and in exchange the companion would receive a place to live and get the home when he died.  This was a common arrangement, known as a “life care contract.”  [Because the companion would end up with a house, it was not unusual to ask the companion to pay something to enter into this contract.]

 

A very pleasant 60-year-old woman applied for the position, saying she would be very happy to care for my father.  But Zsuzsa insisted on making money from the home, and this woman did not have a large sum of cash. The woman did have a grape garden, but she had already bequeathed that to her children as an inheritance. As a result, Zsuzsa schemed to ruin this situation that would have been ideal for my father. She did this by telling the woman that my father did not like her, and with this the woman felt bad and lost interest. Then she told my father that the woman did not like his home and had changed her mind. With this, that prospect ended. We were upset, but only Zsuzsa had her contact information, and so we had no way to find the woman to get her back.

 

Soon afterward, Zsuzsa found a young married couple who agreed to pay 50,000 forint to enter into the contract. That’s all Zsuzsa cared about, was to get money, not to find my father a decent life companion. 

 

The contract was made with the young couple. They placed the 50,000 forint right into my father's hands. Zsuzsa immediately it took from him, saying she would put it in the banks to earn interest. That was the first and last time my father saw that money. Within days, Zsuzsa and her husband spent it. They bought a color television and took a vacation to the beach.

 

The young couple immediately moved into the house. The house was arranged with four rooms straight in a row. The front door opened from the outside into the kitchen. The kitchen opened to the next room, which was used as the dining room, living room, and bedroom. That room opened into the back bedroom. And on the far side of that room was bathroom with the toilet. This home was only designed for one family, and in no way could it be reasonably accommodate used for two separate families.

 

The couple moved my father into the back bedroom, while they ruled over the rest of the house. The young couple constantly walked through my father's bedroom to get to the bathroom and toilet.

 

Within half a year, the young couple had a baby, and that ended any and all peace in the home. The bathroom was being used night and day, and my poor 79-year-old father had to endure this until he could no longer bear it. But he had to bear it because there was nothing else that he could do.

 

In his depression with being alone, and with the endless annoyance and interruption caused by the young family, he lost his will to live. He died at least 10 years sooner than he likely would have as a result of Zsuzsa’s immoral, money hungry behavior.

 

And then Zsuzsa topped off this behavior by not even informing me or my sister (her own mother) when our father finally died. My sister only learned of his death when some relatives dropped in to see her on their way to the burial, and they asked if she wanted to go with them to the burial. Had they not dropped in to visit her, my father would have been buried without eeither of his two living children present.

 

It cannot be known how or when my father would have died if that younger woman had become his companion and supported him. But one thing is certain, his father (my grandfather) was 90 years old when he fell asleep in his eternal dreams.  And my father had absolutely no sickness. Therefore, according to the laws of inheritance, he also should have lived to 90 under more bearable circumstances. That would have probably happened with this young 60-year-old woman, and if he could have lived in peace. But there was no peace with the young married couple and their baby making unbearable noise and endless disturbance, going through in his bedroom day and night. I believe my father died early because of Sipos Zsuzsa’s greed.

 

D.   More About my Disturbing Nieces


Zsuzsa’s disgusting behavior continued when I visited Hungary and learned that she had taken the 50,000 forint that she said she would deposit in the bank to earn interest. I informed my father it was well-known that Zsuzsa stolen and embezzled money, even from her own parents, and that she was not a trustworthy individual. My father asked Zsuzsa to return his money, but of course that was impossible because she and her husband had spent it immediately. In a great fury, she started lying to my father, saying that it was I who wanted to pocket all of his money, and that’s why she would not return it to him.

 

Zsuzsa later invited me to her house. Based on the advice of a communist lawyer that lived in her apartment building, she used a cassette recorder to secretly recorded a conversation she had with me. She directed the conversation so that I would explain how I had helped my parents over the years by giving them U.S. Dollars that I had illegally exchanged on the black market, instead of through the banks. This was a crime punishable with a prison sentence, and one that would require thousands of dollars in legal expenses to get out of prison.

 

Fortunately, I was vigilant enough to notice her questions were strange, so I only gave answers that were insufficient to use against me as evidence. But still, this is the kind of disgusting and underhanded tactics my goddaughter was willing to use against me. When she was young, I used to rock her to sleep in my arms. This was my sister's daughter.

 

Zsuzsa, along with her younger sister Illona, who had similar morals, stole from their own mother all the money that Rozsi had saved up over her life. When their father died, my sister Rozsi (their mother) was in such enormous distress that she did not know what was happening around her.

 

The daughters stole from her using the most congenial of tactics.  For several weeks, they brought her treats and chocolates every day. They often assured her that she should not be afraid of anything because they would always be there to take care of her.  Then, at some opportune time, they asked her to transfer to them 100,000 forint, for which they gave her signed letter guaranteeing that they would look after the money and pay to her 2,000 forint each month for the rest of her life to supplement her pension. Of course, nothing became of this monthly 2,000 forint supplement, and my sister was left with nothing to live on other than her little pension, and from that day forward she has always regretted her stupidity.

 

This is the kind of loving, caring, and parent-respecting children that the communist system created. My sister's husband has now been dead for eight years. During this time my sister should have received 192,000 forint from her two daughters. I strongly doubt if she has gotten even 1,000 forint per month. And just today I learned from my sister that she signed over her home, worth 1 million forint, to her two daughters. I did not even ask what these two crooks promised her in exchange. Unfortunately, there is no cure for stupidity.

 

 


(c) 2024 Copyright - Victor Sipos

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