Jiří Zaťovič

"My grandfather was an exemplary kulak who refused to even talk about the fact that there should be a cooperative. Comrades rewarded him in such a way that not one of his 13 children could go to study - not even to high school, which my mother, who then worked three shifts from the age of 14 and experienced it whole life, must have felt this most with her sisters. Because it was a whole family affair. I think only the last two uncles could graduate from the apprenticeship. It ended up that when the JZD (Unified Agricultural Cooperative) did the acreage, they took away the best fields he had. And then as a substitute, of course to a lesser extent, they gave fields, but probably in such a way that from one side of the village, from the other side of the village, under the mountain, somewhere near the pond. He had a lot to do to even manage it. They were throwing it around so that he had a lot of to do to manage it.” And grandfather, since he had a lot of children, a large farm, he had no chance to meet the quotas. So, one day he got angry, sat down, and wrote a letter. In that letter, he also mentioned that he was trying to comply, but that it was not possible. And when those wise guys in the district, when they are constantly inventing new taxes that need to be filled and he has nothing to do, he suggested that the swindlers from the district come and exchange it with him. That he likes to sit on a chair in the heat and to do nothing for a while and let them try what it's like to make their own bread. And since it was common at that time that when someone start talking carelessly like this, everyone expected him to come for him in leather coats and he never be seen again. But incredibly, a reply came from the office. They reduced his quotas and, of course, Grandpa continued. He was not even willing to listen to the agitators. He said that what they know about it. After all, they are "some kind of city dandies". And since they couldn't deal with him and he refused to go to that cooperation, in 1969 they set some brawlers on him. They beat him so that he lay down in 1969 and died in 1971, never recovering from those injuries. It marked him very much. Basically, we lost our grandfather."

"When I remember today how the border guards came to teach us to notice hostile elements and to run in time to inform the border guard when we see a suspect. Of course, the line was practically in the village. Because Vysoká pri Morave is located on the left bank of the Morava River and Morava was already inaccessible, as it was a border river, so we had other wires stretched along the entire village. That was quite stupid, and even then, we understood, and when we listened to the stupid things, they wanted to push into us and wanted to raise model socialist citizens out of us. I don't know, I've always had an aversion to it. Maybe it's because... We skipped 1968, or we haven't mentioned it yet. When the brothers’ “invaders” came, I know that my parents darkened the windows of the house. We just heard a rumble, probably tanks. I was curious, I wanted to look through the window to see what the noise was, so I just pulled back the blackout a little and I got one from my father and the other from the wall. My ears were really ringing. The fear must have been huge there, we as children didn't realize it, that's clear, I wasn't even six years old. The best thing about socialism is that it ended."