Marie Wollnerová

“At first, I liked it. I liked the idea that there would be no rich and poor people and everyone would do the same. But then, with age, I came to see those careerists climbing up the ladder. You know, they informed against each other, writing anonymous letters. I witnessed all of it. I was adult by then and obviously didn’t like that.”

“In 1968 my daughter was nine years old. My husband’s factory had organized a summer camp for children where she went. On 21 August it was her birthday. On 20 August I went to the post office and sent her a telegram: ‘Sweetheart, I wish you all the best and there is a present waiting for you at home.’ I bought her a hand sewing machine. She had sewed ever since she was little. In the morning we woke up – it was 21 August, there were tanks below our windows and I thought war broke out. My husband turned pale, he didn’t handle these situations well. I said: ‘Take your shoes on and let’s go pick the girl up.’ They were in Ondřejov, not far from Prague. I thought war had broken out and that I won’t see her again if I don’t get there. By that time we haven’t had a car. ‘Take your shoes on and let’s go there on foot!,’ I said. So we took hiking shoes, backpacks, walk to the Palacký bridge where they turned us back. There were two tanks there facing each other, making a passage for a single person. They haven’t let us through. I was completely mad but luckily the factory made sure that in three days’ time they brought us the kids back.”