Today would have been my dad's 72nd birthday. In honor of this day I am posting some memories from his sister Regina about the birth of her baby brother and what was happening in Lithuania at that time.
Richard was born half way through the communist occupation of Lithuania in the town of Panevezys. He had a large, red "apgama" between his eyebrows, which turned dark red when he cried. It had spikes around the perimeter, so it looked like a star. The comment and jokes were made relating it to the communist's red star the soldiers were wearing on their hats. It took a long time for it to disappear as he grew older - I don't remember when it was gone.
Both of our parents were heavy smokers. I sometimes joke that I grew up between two chimneys, but never took up smoking. I remember that our mother gave up smoking cold when she became pregnant with Richard and she was proud of it. But later on, I think, in Germany right after the war when good cigarettes became available, she got hooked on smoking again and didn't drop it until she came to the states. Strange, how neither Richard nor I ever got into it. Maybe, because all our lives we heard: "Don't ever try a cigarette. You can get addicted from the first puff. It's so difficult to stop smoking once you start...on and on." And we saw it all first hand.
I was eight and a half years old when Richard was born. All my short life I always wanted someone to play with. I would whine and whine that I'm bored. I also wanted a baby "lialia". When the announcement was made that there is a live "lialia" on the horizon, I was delighted, I couldn't wait.
At the time of the inception we still lived in free Lithuania, in the best and newest apartment building in Panevezys. That summer I had finished first grade. Mother and I went on a trip and made a stop at a little town of Grinkiskis near Kaunas where we lived when I was born. Grinkiskis is the town where Papa started his first practice as a country doctor.
There I met up with a Rimute, a daughter of the town's pharmacist still living there. Rimute was a two years older then I and was my first playmate. She told me later how she would try to make me drink sweet cream, which I didn't like and everyone thought it was so healthy. Mother left me there and went on to Kaunas, I think, with uncle General, to visit their sisters.
And that's when it happened, which I did not understand until much later - the communist army occupied Lithuania. I remember watching lots of trucks with soldiers driving down the street one day. I remained with Rimute's family the entire summer. I remember that she was going to lessons to prepare for first communion and I tagged along. We sometimes sat on the grass and other times in church absorbing the instructions on the etiquette. And when the big day came around and all the girls were in beautiful short white dresses, I wished that I was one of them. I don't remember anything else about my stay.
When my mother finally came to get me, we did not return to the apartment from which we left. Apparently, all the summer while she was pregnant with Richard she was in great distress, of which I was never aware playing safely with Rimute. Our entire apartment building was taken over by communists. My parents had to relocate not only the living quarters, but also Papa's office with the new x-Ray machine - huge structure - meticulously installed by the German expert just a year prior.
We arrived to Panevezys by train and took a horse and carriage ride to our new apartment. Along the way I read the signs on the buildings and was so delighted that I could read. It was about that time that I started questioning my Mother about her big stomach. During those dark and unpredictable times Richard was growing unaware of the horrors taking place in our lives was a light at the end of the tunnel at least for me. My two uncles were arrested and thrown into jail while trying to find their way to cross the border into Germany. My grandmother Konstancija was with them, but they let her go.
Uncle Alexandras' son Tadas came to live with us in Panevezys. He was to enter 11th grade of high school that fall and I was very proud to have an older cousin live with us. His sister Alina went to live with uncle Leo's family in Telsiai. They were now totally orphaned, as their mother had died of diptheria when they were 7 and 8 respectivelly. We invited a high school phys-ed teacher to come and share our two bedroom apartment, so that the Russians would not place some family with us. People were restricted to so many square feet of living space due to the influx from Russia - the officers were permited to bring their families.
One day my Mother and I went to visit a new, young mother, Mrs. Montvila. She had not long ago given birth to Vidas. (*note - Vidas Montvila and my dad were good friends and Vidas later became my sister's godfather) He was lying on the dining room table all naked with his grandmother fussing around him. I don't think that his mother knew what to do with him, but I knew. I had watched my two cousins since they were born and knew exactly how to diaper a "Lialia" - I practiced.
I entered second grade and patiently waited for my "lialia". Finally Mother went to the hospital and I went to school. When I came home, I saw Tadas in the window and asked him if it is a boy or a girl? I delighted that it was a boy, but I don't know why. Since my bedroom was occupied by the teacher, I slept in my parent's room and "leliukas" was placed in a wicker basket lined with yellow flowery fabric between Mother's and my bed. Tadas slept on the coutch in the main living room which doubled as a formal dinning room. There was a small kitchen, a full bathroom and a tiny, tiny, windowless maid's room. In addition there was a rather large entry hallway for storage with an adjacent cold pantry. It was the time before the fridge.
There is another tidbit that I remember from Richie's young life. As he was growing into a toddler his blond hair was getting longer and curlier. I just loved it, because I had straight hair and it never seemed to grow long, and I could never braid it into long braids as my friends sported. So Richie's curls were my pride and I never let my parents cut them off.
He was two and half years old when we were spending the summer at Bukonciai, our mother's birthplace, with our grandmother, aunt Prane and three Balanda boy cousins. The youngest cousin Kestutis (who died of meningitis 1949) was just a year older than Richie. The other two were slightly younger than I. Their father did not appreciate Richie's long hair and one day unbeknownst to me, while shaving his boys' hair he also shaved off Richie's curls. I was livid. I'm not sure if my mother was conspiring with him or if she was even there at that time. I don't think it ever grew curly again.
I wonder if this was why my dad was always so excited when his hair would get a little longer and curlier in the back! Perhaps he missed the curls of his early childhood.
It amazes me what my parents' families both had to go through when my parents were children. Both my mother and my father have similar stories of their early childhood, having been born in Ukraine and Lithuania and living through World War II. It's amazing that they all survived and made it here to the United States. It makes our lives now seem so easy in comparison.
A photo taken in 1943 when my dad was 2 1/2 years old in Bukonciai - he's the little guy in the heavy coat. Wondering why he's wearing a heavy coat in July when the other boys are wearing shorts! This must have been after the curl-shaving incident.
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