European Resistance Archive/European Resistance Archive (ERA)
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There were many things I didn’t know. We were riding in a small truck.
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I didn’t know that we passed the killing grounds where my good friend Neda Grzinic lay buried.
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I didn’t know that we passed the fire station in Lavrica where my father was buried in February 1944.
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I knew nothing of these horrible facts. I didn’t know my husband was on his deathbed.
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So, I was immensely happy.
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With time I came to learn all of this and had to find some way to survive.
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I was terribly poor and everything of my mother’s had burned down, the entire apartment.
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She barely saved herself from the burning building.
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It was the first night that she was staying in the apartment she got from the housing administration.
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It was near the train station.
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One night, or morning really,
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a wagon filled with arms exploded.
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My mother was left with nothing from what had been, before,
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the quite comfortable lifestyle of an intellectual Ljubljana family.
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I also had nothing. When my husband and I were demobilized, there was nothing left.
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We were used to living modestly already during the war. But this wasn’t the main problem.
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The main problem was that my father was gone, my husband was gone, and many of my friends were gone.
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One had to survive. So I’ve gotten by for most of my life.
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I’ve supported myself as an art teacher, initially in high schools and then, following the reorganization of the schooling system, in elementary schools.
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Up to my retirement in 1969, when I finally found my true calling.
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