A friend was driving in Slovakia recently and noticed the Tatry Mountains in the distance. She remembered that I had talked about being there, and so she sent me a picture. The picture immediately reminded me of great old times.
In 1946, I left the hospital in Bratislava after a 13-month stay during which I was mostly cured from tuberculosis of the spine. The two places presented to me as options for where I could fully finish my recuperation were the Tatry Mountains and Switzerland. I ended up in the town of Vysoké Tatry. Many other survivors from many concentration camps were also there, mostly to heal from tuberculosis of the lungs or pleurisy. Most of the patients were young, some in their 20s, and if memory serves, there was one man who was around 30.
We had three different activities: resting, eating, and recreation. We were given a lot of freedom to choose how we spent our time within those categories. I mostly remember the times we chose to play.
I was there between April and June 1946. On beautiful days, we hiked up the mountain. We were probably restricted in how high we were allowed to go, but one day, another youngster and I went up to the first clearing, which was quite high.
Our next favorite activity was dancing. We did all kinds of dancing, including ballroom, Israeli, and various country folk dances. We were probably given records and a record player, or perhaps it was just a radio. When I left Vysoké Tatry, I went to Žatec, where my father and sister were living.
In February 1948, my sister and I went to Hlohovec, where my surviving Aunt Hanna lived. My aunt treated us to a four-week trip around Czechoslovakia. We went to several cities, including Karlovy Vary, Františkovy Lázně, Humenné, and Medzilaborce. We also went to cemeteries to visit our ancestors’ graves. We went to concerts wherever we found interesting music. We visited Prague, and from there, we went back to Žatec, which is less than an hour away from Prague. It was a fabulous trip, especially for a 17-year-old girl.
My aunt went back to Hlohovec, and a year later, immigrated to Israel to join her son. My sister and I stayed in Žatec with our father until April 1948. My father and I went to France to board a ship to our new life in the United States. Six months later, my sister would join us.
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