Božena Valterová

“I used to play amateur theatre, the piece was called ‘Muziky, muziky’, and it was such a merry comic opera. I played the character Tekla and sang this aria: ‘My poor father was wronged.’ Literally. That was in the screenplay. And I just couldn’t sing it because it always made me cry. Mr Šafránek was the school headmaster at the time, he organised the troupe, and he told me: ‘Boži, don’t think about it. Just close your eyes and sing!’ So then I learned it and sang it. When we played the Slovan venue, mum said, ‘I don’t want to hear it, I’m not coming.’ I said, ‘Mum, come and see it.’ I approached her sisters and asked them to go with her, at least one of them. Mum said: ‘Nobody is coming! Our dads are in prison. We’d be there like widows!’ I sang the aria – and what an applause! Mr Šafránek said, ‘Boži, you definitely have to sing it once more.’ I said, ‘I won’t sing it anymore...’ And I didn’t.”

“They drove them all to the Municipal House in Přerov on a big truck. The truck drove into the yard. We, their family members, were allowed in. The truck reversed in and they led them in one by one. We cried, called dad, and my brother, about ten years old, ran to the father. The warden kicked him off. My mum complained about it because everybody saw it. The hearing was in the morning, then there was a break, and the verdict was made in the afternoon: they are antisocial political elements, they were in collusion, and they exited the cooperative intending to damage and disrupt it. That’s what they were on trial for.”