13. RESCUE COMES FROM BELGIUM. THEN, LEARNING A NEW LANGUAGE!

By Alexandre Tichy (Sr.)

“Yes, we were very happy to be back in our Country. However, we suddenly had to face the reality that our return to Czechoslovakia would not be long lasting. I knew we would have to leave again. After being back home for two and a half years, it was time to do something so that we wouldn’t be stuck there. I honestly didn’t like the idea too much, because I would prefer to stay in my country, seeing my children and grandchildren growing up as Czechs. But things in life don’t happen the way we want.

Now it was time to leave again. But how to leave? To do it may not be that difficult, but with a wife and three children, that would be another story - let alone leaving all relatives and lifetime friends behind! That was a difficult task. We were thinking a lot on how to get out of the country but couldn’t find out how. The Communist government closed the borders, and nobody could get out. People’s properties had been confiscated, and freedom of any kind was completely eliminated.

So, first we were hit by (German) Fascism; and now by (Russian) Communism?! I wish people around the world could understand how disgraceful those regimes are. We needed to get out at any price, however, we didn’t tell our wishes to anybody - it remained strictly between my wife and me. If we told our desire to anyone (including relatives) we would most probably have been denounced to the Communist authorities, and most probably imprisoned. In those days, nobody, absolutely nobody could be trusted. That’s when, again, something completely unexpected happened to me - as it had happened many times before. What could possibly be the odds that it was actually happening? Let me tell you another amazing story.

One day I was working in my store and saw a familiar person coming in. It was a man who had been one of our drivers in Belgium, Mr. Debuson. I was stunned! What in the world was he doing there in our town? I asked him what he was doing there, and he told me that he brought us a gift and said that if we wanted we could leave the country immediately. He had brought us Belgium passports that already had our photos in them. I don’t know where they got those pictures of us. The Mayor that I became friends with helped in the whole process in an effort to extricate us from the (now communist) country. He said that if we wanted to leave we had to do it immediately. It was Friday and we packed whatever we could and left for Prague as if we were going on vacation for a few days. We told the children’s school that we were going to the mountains on a vacation for a full week, to make sure nobody would suspect anything when they missed a few days of school. Those were days of terror, nobody could be trusted, no chances could be taken. Our own children were not told what was going on. And we were, for the second time, leaving all our possessions behind, caring only for our lives, and taking only a a couple of suitcases with a few clothes.

My wife’s name was added to Mr. Debuson's passport as being his wife, along with two of our children. I had the other child added to my (brand new!...) passport. There was a big problem, though: my passport had not been rubber stamped showing my entry to the country. How would I justify that I was in the Country (with my two children) without an entry stamp in my passport? This became a real challenge.

I had some rubber stamps made with those exact same letters on the rubber stamps used by the border inspectors. That’s all needed! I worked on it all night long, and it was not very difficult to forge a stamp on my passport. I drew a fine line in the passport with a pencil and applied the letters one by one so that it would appear as having been stamped by the same rubber stamp used at the supposed entry. We spent about three days in Prague and took the train to Belgium. We boarded in separate wagons, so if someone were caught, not everyone would be compromised. My wife had dyed her hair, to disguise it just in case someone who knew us were in the same train. However, as we will see now, something can always go wrong…

It was actually a close call at that time; I almost got in big trouble at that time, because of that line I drew with a pencil in my passport. I forgot to erase it after finishing the “rubber stampin job!” If the police at the border noticed that line, I would be caught and possibly executed on the spot. I only realized that I had the problem when it was too late since we were already on the train on our way out. However, I always had the intuition of carrying with me something that could be of someone’s interest - as I did, for example, with those bottles of cognac when we drove from Belgium to Czechoslovakia after the war. Therefore, this time I had some American cigarettes with me, which I left on the top of the suitcase and at the checking point I just offered some cigarettes to the man in charge, to distract him. It worked perfectly! He took one cigarette only, and I told him to help himself with the whole packet. He was so happy that he never noticed what I actually had on my passport. He rubber stamped it and there we were in Germany again, out of our Country. What a relief, what an adventure! Then we went to Belgium and quickly to Paris in France - our final destination at that time.

It was only then that we called our family in Czechoslovakia to inform them that we had fled. I know it sounds rough, but there was no other option. If we had told them our plan, we wouldn’t be able to leave, and may have ended up in trouble with the Communist government. We believed that freedom was worth any sacrifice, any risk, any sadness. Freedom is a concept that we reputed almost as sacred in our family.And it is, indeed, one of the most important possessions one may have. Therefore, any form of Fascism, or Communism, or Dictatorship was not an option for us. We would do the impossible to make sure that we all lived in freedom. Freedom was always on top of our list of priorities.

We arrived in Paris late in the evening and took a cab with the intention of finding a certain hotel that we were looking for. Unfortunately the driver fooled us as he kept driving everywhere in town as if we were on a tour. Of course his intent was to rip us off charging for the whole time of his driving. After half an hour he finally found the hotel and we had a good night of sleep. I had left some packets in the storage at the train station the night before when we arrived, so in the morning I got up early with the intention of going to that station to get the packets. There were some cabs in front of the hotel, so I talked to one driver asking him how long it would take going to that train station. He looked at me with a funny look and told me that the station I was looking for was just across the street! I then realized that the night before the cab driver took us for a half an hour “tour” just to drop us across the street… I felt welcome in Paris again…

The people in the hotel were giving me a very strange, weird look because my passport was for myself only, and my wife was in Debuson’s passport as if she was his wife, but he was in a room by himself and my wife and I were in the same room. Of course it was difficult for others to figure it out! One day the manager made a light comment that the hotel kept a high moral standard, so I finally explained what the actual situation was in our case, and everything was properly clarified No more weird looks after that.

We stayed in the hotel for about 3 weeks and visited many places, including some museums, and the children also enjoyed going to the big parks. Ivan was still very small and he enjoyed seeing some children in their small boats as they spent long hours in the lake in one of those parks. He asked me several times to buy a boat like that. I couldn’t buy it, though, since we were there just temporarily. I remember that one time he was sick and had to take some injections, but it was an ordeal because he would not allow anybody to give him the shot. So one day I talked him into it by telling him that the shot was not painful and that if he allowed us to give him the shot I would buy a boat like those later on when we would be living close to the beach. Well, he got the shot but unfortunately I still owe him the boat because I never bought it. It would have been impossible to use a boat in the sea, especially with him being so small.

Some of us had health problems while we were in France. One time Alex had appendicitis and needed surgery. On another occasion it was Gustav who had it and had a surgery too. It all cost a lot of money and I paid it in cash, without knowing that the organization that was taking care of us as refugees would pay for all our medical and other expenses.

From Paris we went to South France. I met a nice gentleman, Mr. Richard who lived close to the beach. He had a textile manufacturing business. They were nice people. I didn’t want to be a burden to them, but they were very nice and took care of us, helping as much as they could. They even invited us to move in with them, while we waited for visas to move to another country. So we finally decided to go to their town. On our way to the train station my wife still needed to go to some place before embarking, so we agreed to go separately and meet at the train station later on. Alex went with me and Ivan and Gustav went with her. When I got to the train it was already packed. I could hardly get in. But before I got in I started looking for my wife everywhere, calling her from the outside, but couldn’t find them. So we finally went back to the hotel for one more night. Only the next day we learned that there were so many people traveling the day before and a second train was added for service. I had looked for them on the wrong train. My wife didn’t have any tickets. She just got into the train, and actually she never paid for that trip. It was a 1,000 kilometer trip, but the train was so packed that there was no way for someone to check people’s tickets. In the morning I called Mr. Richard in Frejus and learned that my wife was already there with the other two children. So we ook the next train and went to meet them. When we arrived Mr. Richard was already waiting for us. Unfortunately one of our suitcases was stolen during that trip, but we were reimbursed with a good amount of money.

Mr. Richard had already found a home for us, which we rented from an engineer who had been sick for six years; he could not walk and was always moving only on his knees. His father, Dr. Medavar, was a physician, but could not help him with his illness. One thing he knew well though, to charge for a rental home; he asked for FF$1,300 per month to rent us his home - which was very expensive. I took the place because it was the only viable option at that time There was another person, Mr. Sali, who lived close to us on a big property. He had some money but was going broke because the maintenance of the farm was very expensive and he was not keeping it productive. Later on he moved to Paris, where he had a closer friendship with a married acquaintance and he asked me if I wanted to move into his house so that someone would be living there, thus preventing people from burglarizing the place. That was helpful because I could then save the money I was paying for rent. He had several kinds of vegetables planted on his property at the time he left, and for a long time we had enough of those for our consumption. It was a great deal for both parties, and we enjoyed living in that area for about two and a half years.

Mr. Sali’s idea had been to make the property productive, but he had no experience with that type of business. The property was actually a vineyard when he bought it, but his plans were different. He eliminated all vines - which were very valuable at that time - and prepared the soil to plant vegetables. He actually hired several Bulgarians to be in charge of the plantation but the business didn’t take off. He was just losing money on a daily basis. On one occasion he shipped a wagon full of tomatoes to Paris but then he had a price dispute with the buyers since they could not agree on a final deal. So, at the end, Mr. Sali finally agreed to the price they were offering him for the goods. But it was too late; the tomatoes had deteriorated and were no longer good for consumption. On the top of it, he received a bill from those people to reimburse them with the expenses to dump the whole lot of tomatoes.

At another time Mr. Sali had the idea of starting a shoe factory. He bought all the expensive equipment and the raw material to start his business. But the people he hired didn’t actually know how to make shoes, and the venture ended in failure as well. Mr. Sali had a big dog which stayed with us. Well, we were vegetarians, and the dog was fed only with vegetarian food, the leftovers from our meals. Sometimes he ate, sometimes he didn’t. But we noticed that he had good health and actually his hair was very nice and shiny. We used to brag to our neighbors telling them how good a vegetarian diet was, that even our dog was benefiting from it. Only some time later we realized that the dog was actually going every day to a nearby butchery where the butcher was serving him a daily “non-vegetarian” meal…

We were enjoying the French Riviera very much. In August of 1950, our younger son, Georges, was born in Saint Raphael. We had a very kind neighbor who had a car, and for three days he was always ready so that he could take my wife to the hospital to deliver the new child. We lived in Frejús, but the hospital was in Saint Raphael, about 4 miles toward the beach. After a few days, for our total surprise,we received a nice letter from the Mayor of Saint Raphael congratulating us and stating that it was the first time ever that a Czech family had a child born in that city. Therefore the City would pick the hospital bill and pay it in full. We thanked him a lot since it was a great help.

I had filed an application with the IRO (International Refugee Organization), an entity that helped refugees to move on with their lives. I stated that we wanted to move either to Canada or to Brazil, whichever visa would be approved first. I knew that Canada was probably no longer an option considering my prior experience at the Canadian Embassy in Brussels (as I described before). I had a few friends that moved to Brazil, and they were encouraging me to move to that country. Brazil was accepting immigrants with experience in farming, so I suddenly became, again, a farmer on my application… After a while the IRO called us to Paris to continue the procedures for immigration to Brazil. We packed all our belongings and were ready to go to Paris when my wife suddenly decided that she wouldn’t go. At the time of the departure to Paris, she said that she was sick and she would not go. But I finally talked her into it and we went to Paris where we stayed for about one week before going to Bordeaux to finalize paperwork. The IRO paid for all expenses at that time, including the traveling tickets.

A new chapter in our life was starting. Our departure took place at the Port of Marseille, where we embarked on an old merchant ship that was on its last trip before retiring. After about 18 days, on July 9th of 1951, we finally arrived in Brazil; first stopping in Rio de Janeiro, and then, after a few days, reaching our final destination, the great City of São Paulo, in the State of São Paulo. The trip was good except that Georges became sick and my wife had a hard time with him. Actually, all of us except my wife became sea-sick due to the ups and downs as the old ship went through the gigantic waves in the Atlantic sea.

So now we were, finally, far away from where we experienced two world wars and a Communist regime. We wanted to stay away from the area that for us appeared to be a melting pot, endangering not only our freedom but our lives. The expansion of the Soviet Union was a constant threat, but in Brazil we felt safe, and had no plans to ever return to Europe.

The challenge was not small, though. I was already 46, and my wife 41; and we had four sons! Re-starting one's life in a different culture, learning a new language, figuring out a new source of income - all that was in front of us now. Well, this is another story, the next story.”

Alexandre Tichy (Sr.) ca. 1950