"When we came to the school and the strike was called, they told us we couldn't go on strike, and they actually closed the school. That's when I said I was going to the square and I said it in the teachers room and I challenged one of my colleagues, 'You're going too, aren't you? Or aren't you?' She said, 'But you know, I'm still here correcting notebooks.' I said, 'You correct yours at home. But you know what, we're all on our own. I'm going, because the young ones can't be hurt.' So I left the teachers room alone. There was another colleague participating from the windows."
"During the totalitarian era, I was called to the town's national committee to tell them that there were shops all over the street and the comrades had nowhere to go to the toilet, and that our place was the only place possible. Because it was the only one that wasn't nationalized, and it couldn't be done at their expense. So I'll build a toilet with the other co-owners. I say, 'The toilets were there. They let it freeze, it fell down, the masonry got damaged and we had to have it torn down. And now there's no more room.' So a slightly younger official there tapped his pencil on my desk and said, 'If you want to teach, you'll build the toilets.' I said, 'There's no room, I can't and I don't live there anymore. I don't know where it would be.' And he said, 'I repeat, if you want to teach, you'll build the toilets with your own hands.'"
"The teacher came into the classroom, we stood at attention, he waved his hand, we sat down. He read the names of my classmates and also my name, and there were seven of us. I looked up, at first we thought someone had brought something up, but we were all standing and we had done very well with honours. I knew none of them had brought anything up anywhere, so I calmed down. The teacher went on, 'You have put your applications in for higher school. Because of a bad cadre evaluation, your applications will not be passed on.' I didn't know what the word 'cadre evaluation' meant at all. I ran home crying because I used to go for lunch at home, that was before school canteens were established. Mum lit a cigarette and said, 'Don't worry! I won't give you up! Then you'll be at home, I'll keep you busy.'"
Lidmila Kubinová, née Šimková, was born on 31 May 1939 in Hronov and had a brother Jaroslav, three years younger than her. Her parents, Jaroslav and Anna Šimek, worked in the family shop selling fashion, sewing machines and prams. During the war, when an air raid was announced, they took shelter in the cellar where they had a supply of food and water. In 1945, she danced in an amateur production of The Bartered Bride in Hronov. In 1947 she welcomed Jan Masaryk in a traditional costume during his visit to Hronov. After 1948 the communists confiscated their shops. Her father died of a heart attack in 1953 and she and other relatives inherited the house as minors. In the same year, she was forbidden to apply to high school and had to take a one-year apprenticeship. She entered the grammar school in Náchod a year later and graduated in 1957. She graduated from the University of Education in Prague, majoring in biology and chemistry. She taught in Machov, Velké Poříčí and Hronov. In 1961 she married Libor Kubina. They raised two sons, Libor and Leoš. In 1968 she organized a petition against the occupation. In 1989, despite the school ban, she participated in the general strike. She was interested in the history of Hronov, in the works of Alois Jirásek and the Čapek brothers and wrote poems. In 2023 she lived in Hronov.
Hrdinové 20. století odcházejí. Nesmíme zapomenout. Dokumentujeme a vyprávíme jejich příběhy. Záleží vám na odkazu minulých generací, na občanských postojích, demokracii a vzdělávání? Pomozte nám!
