I walked all the way to the Rosners, the only place which offered a bed, warm food and people to talk to. I was very surprised to see so many damaged buildings, some of them supported by wooden pillars. A few apartment houses were halfway gone, but people still found a nook to live in. Budapest was in ruins. The fighting caused lots of damage. The bridges were down, the factories rendered unusable, apartment and Government buildings bombed out. Many people were living under bad conditions. Shortage was rampant: of food, clothing, and housing, mostly construction material

In the Rosner's house, we were talking all day and almost all night about things of the past and the future. Next day I went to the office of J.I.A.S. the Jewish Immigration Service. There, I received some documents concerning my time spent in forced labour camps and an Application Form for three weeks' stay in a Sanatorium (health spa). I found an old luggage in their warehouse and with their permission; I filled it up with clothing. I received a new US made shaving kit, towels, and a bag of real coffee, sugar, soap, milk powder and sardines. All came from the USA.

During the meal, a tall, well-dressed man came to our table. He introduced himself as Dr. Zoltan Klar, the editor of the TARSADALMUNK (Our Society) daily newspaper. He wrote down our names and asked a lot of questions about our situation. He asked us, why were we here, did we need all those things the JIAS gave us. We told him the truth. Our answer about our health made him very upset. He gave us a small amount of money and left.

When I told the story to the Rosners, they informed me: Zoltan Klar and his newspaper represented the opposition to the Government and they printed every little thing to hammer on the Government.

Next day the newspaper carried a front-page story: How the present coalition Government neglects the citizens, who need a great amount of help, including those who just came home from the P.O.W. camps. "Those poor, suffering people have to beg for clothing, for food, they need instant medical help and the Government does nothing about it." When I read our names in the paper, I was sorry that I talked to him.

Upon going to the office of the Ministry of Health with my Application, I received royal treatment! They read the newspaper, too! In a short time, my Application was accepted! I received a voucher to the Health Spa (sanatorium) of Hajduszoboszlo for three weeks; Room, food and all the treatment paid by the Government. I received also a return train ticket, two theatre tickets and six free entries to a close-by Entertainment center. This was not all. I found about 100 Forint spending money in a valet. The starting date at the Health Spa was ten days later.

I was rushing "home" to tell all about it; the Rosners couldn't believe my luck.

We were sitting down to supper, when the bell rang. Kate went to open the door. A tall man greeted her: "Hello! I am Sandor Vajda. You remember me? I am Leslie's father!" When he entered the room I almost fainted: My father casually greeted Klari and me. I stood up, and wanted to embrace him as a son who didn't see his father for five years. Before I opened my mouth, HE greeted me with an argument: "Why didn't you come to my house? I am your father! Your uncle, Erno Vamos (Weinberger) called me and told me you came back from Russia."

When I had a chance to talk, I told him, we received a death certificate from the Hungarian Government in 1943. I didn't find his name and address in the telephone book either.

He told us his story: In 1943, the Eastern front was broken through. He joined the Russian partisans. He and many others for a while were helping the partisans by keeping the camp in good order, cooking for them and cleaning, etc. Then they were sent to Siberia to work in a factory. He returned to Hungary in the end of 1945 and found that my mother and sister left Hungary for Germany. He divorced my mother and married Margit Ungar, a Jewish widow.

He ordered me to pack and go with him. I knew how to follow an order from a stranger, but coming from my father was something I couldn't believe. His affection I could go without, but his stiff, even cruel talk made me silent. We left and went to his apartment.

His home was on Dohany Street, in a big half-destroyed apartment building. The three big bedrooms and dining room apartment was divided into two separate units. Another couple occupied one bedroom and a small "nanny's" room. They used the same entrance, toilet and bathroom. Before the war, the whole apartment was the Ungar's residence.

He introduced me to his wife, Margit Ungar. She greeted me with a friendly welcome. I spent the first night in the dining room, on the extra bed, wondering: how this arrangement will work out. Next day during breakfast, they asked me lots of questions and I in turn, just a few.

Here is his story: My father returned home and found that our home, our factory was destroyed. He went to live in the same apartment, where my mother was living, before they left the country. He learned their address and started to exchange letters, each one was nastier than the other. He asked them, later ordered them, to return to Hungary. My mother wanted him to follow her. Each one was blaming the other for 19 years of difficult, stormy marriage. Each of them refused to re-unite. He filed for divorce. Having some friends with good connections, the court rendered a quick judgment.

On one occasion he became friendly with Imre Ungar; a very charming man. He introduced my father to his family, his parents, and three of his sisters. One of them was Margit, a Jewish widow, who lost her husband in the war. They didn't have any children. They married a few weeks later.

Right after the war, the new Government of Hungary established the new Police Force to combat any resistance and find the hiding fascists, Germans or Hungarians. They needed lots of trustworthy men. Jewish men and women supplied the best pool; former forced labour and concentration camp inmates returning to civil life.

My father was one of them. This unit received a short crash-course about weapons, and other logistic information. They wore civilian clothing mostly, and carried side arm(s). The Minister of Interior was responsible for their activities. These units did a very good job finding hidden ammunition, small and not so small weapons and war criminals.

My father, like many others, went to evening school sponsored by the government. He finished already the four elementary grades, and attended high school. Three times a year they received a complete outfit of clothing. Every year they received a three weeks vacation in the best resort, all expenses paid.

He saw the content of my small suitcase, but didn't ask if I needed some clothing, underwear or offered any second hand clothing. He kept them all for himself.

There was a strictly enforced law in Hungary: every resident had to register his, or her permanent, or temporary address at the nearest police station. The Superintendent of the building signed the registration. Hotels did the registration for the guests. Moving to a new address meant registering OUT and registering IN. - I didn't register when I was in the Rosners' apartment, not knowing where I will stay. On the way to my father's house, he took away my I.D. book to take care of the registration. This way I didn't have to answer at the police station why I didn't register before.

In one of the letters, my father asked my mother (and later asked me, too), what happened with the upholstered living room chairs. He didn't tell to anyone, not even to his wife, that he hid jewellery and some money under the covers. My mother kept on telling him that she didn't know anything about it. Our apartment was inside the ghetto in 1944 and the poor occupants burned everything to heat the place. My father didn't believe her and accused her with steeling HIS jewellery. I told him, too, I didn't know anything about his treasure, but he didn't want to believe me either.

The next few days were very difficult for everybody. The only thing which brought a change was a family supper. I was introduced to the Ungar family: father, mother, Margot's sister Aranka and her brothers. Ungar papa's brother, Sam (Samu) and his wife Serena were sick and couldn't come for this important event.

A few days passed and it was time to go to the Sanatorium of Hajduszoboszlo. Nobody asked me to come back. I was happy to be out of the house. Father, Mother, sister, all survived the Holocaust, yet we did not have a family, I was without a home.

The train was full, but with my only suitcase, I found a window seat. Watching the fields passing by, farmers tending to their crop, owners painting their little houses, kids going to school offered a peaceful picture. However, I was not part of all this. Shortly after the train moved out of the station, the people in the coach opened their baskets and bottles. Following the Hungarian tradition all started eating and drinking. Jokes were flying. I had nothing, no food, no drink and no jokes. They invited me to join the party, so I arrived to Hajduszoboszlo in a good mood.

This city is famous for it's hot-spa. It has all kinds of treatments and entertainment. During the season, it is fully booked ahead of time. It has an Olympic size swimming pool. On the first day, I received a complete check-up, x-rays, blood and urine test. A skin specialist and a physiotherapist looked after me.

The food and the service was first class. Full early breakfast, no worry about cholesterol. One hour later the treatments started. The whole package included: physiotherapy, ultrasound, short wave, mud-packing sessions and massage. Not all done the same day, the treatment followed a strict medical regimen. Most of the days ended in the thermal pool. The medical director received the report from the General Hospital of Debrecen about my tests. Injections and some pills were given to eliminate all the blisters and prevent new boils to develop. Maybe they were a combination of vitamins. I had to eat lots of fruit and vegetables. I received excellent treatment.

At the end of my treatment, I made a decision to join my family in Kisvarda. I called my uncle Erno and he was very excited about my visit.

Erno and his wife Anna were waiting for me at the railroad station. Revisiting my not so happy past, the streets, the houses, and the stores gave me an uneasy feeling. During my stay in Kisvarda, I had never gone to see any of the houses we were living in, or where I was born. Not even my grandmother's place did I want to see. The Gymnasium (high school) was the only building I went to see. During the war it was bombed and suffered extensive damage.

Uncle Erno had a rented small apartment in a small house, with a large vegetable garden. He married Anna only after the war, but was engaged for eight years prior to that. Erno was away in the army first, then in forced labour camps. They never had any children. I slept on the extra bed in the bedroom. He took care of reporting my change of address.

Erno had his own shop across the street: making the upper part of the footwear for the shoemakers. He employed 5-6 people all the time. Erno was a very good tradesman and ran a successful business. A long time ago and especially in the small cities the footwear selection in the stores was limited. Anybody, who had a little wider or narrower foot, or was between sizes, had to order "made to measure" shoes, or boots.

A few days later, I started to work in his shop with a minimum pay, due to my lack of experience. I had a place to sleep, a kitchen to eat and clean garments; I had almost everything. My mother wrote to me almost every week and sometimes my sister, too, urging me to leave the country. They were waiting for the refugee visa to go to the USA. Her brother Alex Weinberger sent her the affidavit from Brooklyn.

Erno tracked down somebody secretly, who will assist me to escape to Austria. It was a dangerous thing. Right after the war, it was easy to leave the country, but now the border patrols were well organized. Many people wound up in jail for trying to escape, or helping somebody to do so. Just to inquire about it, would have resulted in a friendly visit by the AVO (Hungarian Secret Police).

It did cost a lot of money to pay the smugglers, which I didn't have. One day I was working in the vegetable garden, cleaning the yard of the large stones, debris and tall weeds. I dug out a big stone under a tree and found a small cigar box. I took it into the house and when I opened it, I discovered a small, hidden treasure: three gold rings with a small diamond, eight or nine gold necklaces, three gold cameo medallions and a man's gold pocket watch. Erno told me that the Jewish family which was living there and owned the house didn't come back from the concentration camp. The whole family; parents and children perished.

We were very excited, now I will have money to pay my way out of Hungary. Erno kept the watch and Anna one necklace. The rest was sold in the black market. We ordered a pair of "made to measure" shoes and Erno made a cavity in the heels of the shoes to hide some money. We put into each heel a five US dollar bill, to buy shilling (Austrian currency). Middle of December 1947 Erno found somebody, who would pick me up in Budapest and with another man will escort us to the border. A certain woman will hold all the money due to him, until I sent back the password indicating, that I was in Austria.

I made a backpack with a minimum amount of clothing and went to Budapest to the Rosners. They were happy to see me, but were sad to learn the purpose of my visit. The time was set for my escort to come to the apartment on December 26, 1947 at 12 noon. I was ready to go.

A few minutes past noon when I was looking down from the 3rd-floor window to see if my man was coming. I saw him with another man in front of the entrance. I wanted to run down to be with them. In that second a black, unmarked car stopped, three civilians stepped out of the car. Put handcuffs on both men and pushed them into the car. They sped away. The whole thing took less than two minutes. What a shock! Here I am, ready to escape, but right now not even knowing what to do next.

It took a few minutes to recover. We sat down to discuss the situation. I could not go back to Kisvarda; maybe they were looking for me there, or even here. I decided to stay indoors for a few days. When I called Erno to wish him Happy New Year, he knew already that the men were taken to the AVO headquarters. They arrested the woman, too with all the money. Later I found out, that the "escort man" received 10 years in prison, the woman 12 years. The other escapee was in the jail for 5 years. -- What should I call it? Luck? Maybe.

Here I am again, no place to go. I must report my new address, but I don't know where will I be. I was safe for a few days, because many people traveled during the upcoming New Year and the address report could wait until after New Year. I called my father, talked to Margit, his wife and she asked me to move to their apartment until I find a place to rent. I accepted the invitation; at least I was safe concerning the "Change of Address" report. Four days after New Years, I moved back to my father's house. Erno sent my things I left behind. He was unhappy with my decision; I told him this would be a temporary solution. My father was not very happy, but couldn't say a word. I tried to avoid any argument on any subject. We didn't talk much, not about my mother, or Erno.

Next day I went to the Leather Industry Union to ask for work. The day after, I started to work in a small, privately owned shoe factory as a leather cutter. I got paid by piecework. There were three other cutters. To earn extra money we took home extra work, doing it on Saturday and Sunday. Monday morning we returned the cut pieces to the factory.

The other cutters with their experience were able to save a little material from the quantity that the owner gave out. I didn't have much experience and was not able to save any material.

One Friday noon, when we were ready to go home, two detectives showed up at the door. They told the cutters, including me, to go to the office and wait. I had no idea what this was all about. When all the other workers left, the detective ordered us to take off our jacket and shirt. I did it too and was very surprised to see that the three cutters had one or two large pieces of material tied under their shirt. We all had to go to the police station. They made a police report of the three cutters. Four detectives went to the cutters' addresses to search the apartment for stolen material. They found some in their homes. I didn't 'save' any material and had nothing in my home. They let me go home. The three others were staying at the police station overnight and were charged for stealing material and selling it on the black market.

When the detective went to my father's apartment, my father was very upset. The detective found nothing and apologized to my father. When I returned home, my father almost killed me, for putting him into a bad situation, and for having a detective come to his house. I told him the story and how innocent I was, but he didn't listen. Margit came home and they kept arguing about my stay. My father told me, next week I have to move out.

Aranka, Margit's sister came to my rescue and offered a little room in her apartment. She lived in the same building. I said thanks to my father and moved out in five minutes.

I continued working in the factory. They hired new cutters and there was no more "home work."

In March 1948 I went to a Union Party at the Head Office. Somebody called my name; he was Geza Kocsis, one of the Section Directors of the Union. He was happy to see me and asked what was I doing. Geza told me to go to see him in his office next day.

It hit me that I knew him from somewhere, but later I remembered we attended the same trade school. He was a slow learner and I helped him mostly with mathematics and pattern making. I shared my lunch with him many times. He came from a gypsy family and most of the people kept a distance from him. He remembered me and was glad to see me in his office.

He explained a confidential plan to me:

In Hungary, there were less than a dozen big and more than two dozens medium and small size footwear factories. The same situation existed in the leather tannery. The Government nationalized all the factories, first the big ones, by now, all of them. In some medium, or small factories the Government hired the former owners as Production Managers under the watchful eyes of the newly appointed Government Director.

In each factory, every worker was a member of the Union. Some were members of the Communist Party. There was a full-time, or a part time Party Secretary and also a Union Secretary. Each factory had its own production, shipping payroll and accounting system. The cost of the product was so different, that in some places producing the same footwear might have cost 50% more, or 50% less. The Ministry wanted to re-organize every factory to follow a standard system in the whole country. They knew there would be a slight difference in each region, because of the training and experience of the local labour force, as well as the living standard of each region, which also affects the labour cost.

To accomplish these goals, they needed trained and very trustworthy Industrial Engineers with lots of knowledge in the leather and footwear industry. The Government made an agreement with the University of Budapest to organize a six-month "crush" course for 25 or 30 candidates, to be trained for Industrial Technicians. They provided all the tuition fees, school supplies, transportation and suppers.

After five months, they selected 12 students, based on the results of exams on every subject. Those selected Industrial Technicians did receive a month's paid leave to study daytime, while undertaking a commitment to work outside Budapest, in any parts of the country.

Geza offered me a place in the program, and all the help I might need. I accepted his offer, and was ready to start a new life.

My first session started in April 1948. We received an introduction from the teaching staff. They outlined the program of this special training: Monday to Friday, the study will start 6:30 pm and finish 10:30 pm. There will be three groups, rotating the subjects and the teachers. Saturday and Sunday from 9 am to 2 pm Tutoring in the library until 4 pm. We'll study: basic statistics, basic bookkeeping, work and time study and production organizing methods, mathematics and some basic algebra, using the slide rule (logarithm). A psychologist gave us a lecture once a week. It was very hard to study after a full day's work. Every subject was very interesting for me. I put all my energies to learning everything I could. I didn't care about missing my social life. After five month of study, I was one of the 12 students, who continued the final month of education. December 2, 1948 I graduated with high recommendation. Geza was very happy with me.

I started to work in the coal-mining city of Tata, west of Budapest. It was December 8, 1948.The majority of the locals were working in the mining, servicing, or transportation industry. I was the only Jew in the city. The shoe factory, with about 350 workers was in the outskirts of the city. The Government nationalized this factory, too, but hired the former owner as a cutting department foreman. He had lots of knowledge in the pattern making, cost calculation and leather-cutting field.

The whole factory was under the direction of Andrew Kovacs, appointed by the Ministry. Before the war, he was a shoe factory worker. I was a "New Kid On The Block"; everybody greeted me politely, with some reservations. They took me on a half-day orientation tour, introducing every section, foremen, and foreladies, the local Secretary of the Communist Party and the Secretary of the Union.

The next day I asked for a meeting of the Board of Directors, the Secretaries, all foremen and foreladies. I informed them about the purpose of my work, namely: to find ways to improve working conditions, to eliminate material and labor losses. I tried to create a good impression, and take away their worry, that the "out-of-town" stranger will do something bad for them. I assured all that my work would be to their benefit.

My first step was to study the movement of material in every department and the shipping methods. Next came the cutting room. Using the national standards, I prepared a new detailed floor plan and an economical material flow-chart. (This was important in every department). Cutting methods, tools, sizing, and size markings, as well as wages were compared to the national standards and adjusted. I did the same in every other department. My plan included exchanging unused machinery for those needed.

After a month, with my friendly and smooth working system, I started to receive suggestions from the workers. Three months of hard working, some time late evenings and weekends, I made a detailed study and suggestions for the entire factory. I presented it to the Ministry. They were satisfied with it, except a few changes. The hardest part was explaining the whole plan to the directors and to the workers.

The next project entailed: developing a new payroll system and following the changes in the production lines. - I loved my work. It gave me a chance to explore and observe people, and to organize new things. I myself learned in the process and tried to implement new and better ways.

At the same time, I was teaching local people to learn my work, and be able to take over, when I will leave for other assignments. When I left the factory, my accomplishment was in good hands. There was no time left to relax, only a few days' rest, and on June 13, 1949 I was transferred to Debrecen.

In the mean time, I applied to change my name from Winkler to Vertes. Why Vertes and not Vajda?

My mother realized, that I cannot go to Germany, and I had to secure my future. In 1948 they left Germany for Israel, they had no other place to go. The Pentagon used up the entire refugee quota to bring about 10.000 German nuclear scientists to the USA. They wanted them to work on the space program. The high officials knew that most of them were war criminals, hard-core SS. They were more important than the Jews and other refugees. The U.S. Consulate told my mother that they have to wait maybe five years for a visa. Israel just became a country and they went there with other homeless refugees. She was afraid I will neglect her and I will be my "father's boy". She asked me NOT to take his name, Vajda, and I complied. I received my new name - Vertes - in 1950.

I installed the same system in Debrecen, as in Tata. The new task was much easier, because I had more experience, and the factory was well organized before the Government nationalized it. I worked long hours and made all the effort to be of great help to the people in the factory, and be as pleasant as possible. This was important to my success. With lots of patience, I accomplished good public and labor relations. I trained a reliable and capable young woman, and with the permission of the Ministry, she was able to take over my work when I left the city.

The first Saturday, after lunch, I paid a visit to the sisters of my buddy from the P.O.W camp, Leslie Frankel - with a big bouquet of flower. They were happy to see me, and we had a lot to talk about. Leslie came to visit them during the last year a few times. He kept very busy being in a very high position in the defense industry and in the Party hierarchy. Not married, but ...that was Leslie!

Sara lost her husband in the Eastern front in 1943. They were childless. She was by this time 34 years old and held a job in a medium size department store, as an office manager. She dressed well and was very intelligent, loved arts, music and good books. These things were common with me. The Director of the department store was after her, and wanted to marry her, but he wasn't to Sara's taste, because he was a very primitive man and 15 years older.

The supper was very tasty and I enjoyed being in a family. Sara asked me if I were interested visiting the art exhibition next day. Yes was my answer. The exhibition was really good and we knew lots of things about paintings, artists and understood what the painter wanted us to see. - A candlelight supper for three of us was the finishing act of the day.

Thursday evening I received a call from Sara that her brother Leslie will come to visit them Friday evening and, if I were free, they would like to invite me for supper. On my way to them I was thinking: flower or a box of chocolate? The flower is personal and carries a message. I arrived with a box of brandy filled cherry chocolate. Its high quality was countrywide well known. The flower can wait, I presumed.

Leslie arrived with a big limousine, a driver and a bodyguard. We greeted each other, like brothers. He wasn't Frankel anymore; his name became Comrade Fuzesy. We talked and ate; we talked some more and drank until past midnight. He insisted that I should stay with them overnight. There was one more bedroom and lots of empty beds and pyjamas. After breakfast, he left for some official business, and asked me to return to their home after noon. I returned with my own toothbrush, pyjamas and shaving kit, just in case.

Leslie had a big plan for Sara. He used his high connections to get for Sara a very important and highly paid job in about three weeks. She will become the personal secretary to the Vice President of the Manfred Weisz Metalwork Factory in Csepel city. With this job, she will receive a one bedroom, dining room, bathroom, kitchen, fully furnished apartment in a centrally (!!!) heated building.

He left, promising to return shortly. --- This never happened!

My buddy Leslie just couldn't stop loving young women. He was single. In Hungary as in the P.O.W. camp, he didn't see and didn't care about the danger of having love affairs with somebody else's wife.

The wife of the Deputy Secretary of the Party was a very attractive redhead. Leslie's own superior told him not to try anything foolish with her. Leslie didn't pick up the signal. He invited her to lunch, sent flowers and did every trick to seduce her. His superior officer warned him, that he was walking on a minefield, and ordered him to stay away from her. - Leslie didn't listen.

One day the husband of the woman went home right after lunch and found them in the bedroom. Perhaps somebody brought to his attention the "open" secret. The husband arrived with four AVO (Secret Police) soldiers. They arrested Leslie. He ended up in the Interment Camp of Kistarcsa city. No charges were laid, no trial, no defense lawyer. Later I learned, that he served there for 2 1/2 years.

Sara and I visited him once. It was like a high security prison, dogs, and guards all over. We talked to Leslie from a two-meter distance; touching or giving anything to him was forbidden. True to him, he was giving socialist lectures to the prisoners and to the camp guards!

My work was going well and I was happy with my relation with Sara. I hardly used my own apartment. Movies, theatres, lots of walk and talk made our free time very pleasant.

I went to Szombathely to organize one of the departments. When I came back, a message was waiting for me from my father's wife. She wrote, that my father had a gall bladder operation three days ago and she thought, that I would like to know about it. Since I went to work in Tata, I didn't see his home, or talk to my father. I was surprised, that she was able to find out my address.

Someone was going to Budapest next day with the factory truck, and I went with him direct to the hospital. On the way, I bought a nice leather valet and a gold tipped fountain pen. My father was in good shape; although in those days, a gall-bladder operation was a major surgery. He greeted me sarcastically "How is Mister Vertes?" I knew the reason: I didn't change my name to Vajda! I greeted him with a quiet Hello and gave him my present. I asked him: "How is Mister Vajda?" "Fantastic" he said. He talked about Margit and her family and the two new suits he just received from the tailor. Soon they will go to a luxurious hotel on Lake Balaton for two weeks of fully paid vacation.

I wanted to tell him about my work, when an orderly came in to check the drain-bag. He gave the valet and the fountain pen, which I just gave him as a gift, to the orderly as his gift. The orderly was happy and with hearty thanks left the room. After a few minutes of complete silence, I felt it was time to leave, as we had nothing else to talk about anymore. Eight hours of travel for a 20-minute visit. Well, I wasn't happy with it, but I had to take it, like many times before, when I was younger.

A week later, I had an appointment with Geza in the Union Office. I reported my progress in Debrecen and in the other cities. He was satisfied with all the developments. I wasn't surprised, that he asked me about Sara. During that regime in Hungary, there was no secret. Geza asked me if I wanted to work in Budapest. I accepted his offer. He gave me a name and an address where I could find a room to rent. My transfer came in 10 days. .

This was the last time I saw my good friend, my helper and mentor. A few weeks later, a big truck hit his small Soviet made car on the side, and he was killed instantly. I felt awful losing him. He was young, and had a good future ahead of him. I called his wife and the two children and visited them later.

I had to finalize my work in Debrecen, and turned over all the details to the young lady, who took over my position.

Sara's youngest sister, Julia came to visit me one afternoon in the factory for a private, important talk. She was very straightforward and blunt to remind me that Sara was nine years older than I, and our career is going in very different directions. Sara is a member of the party and moving within the high-echelons of the party. We are wasting our time with this relation and missing lots of opportunities to settle down the "proper" way. She directly requested me to break the relation the best and the least painful way without hurting Sara.

It was my turn to do the right thing, even if it was my pain and my loss. With a cold head, I wrote a letter to Sara. I thanked her for the lovely times we had together, and the help she gave me to redirect my life in the right direction. I wanted to be very honest and grateful to her, but it will be better if we stopped seeing each other. We have to be thankful for the good times we had and must look forward to our future, without fiddling away any valuable time.---It was not easy to write this letter! ---I have never seen her again.

I heard later, that she married an executive of the factory complex. Somebody told me a year later, that she became very ill with liver cancer and died a few weeks later. After Geza's accident I asked myself: Why are so many promising lives taken away? Is it justice for all?

I went to the address of 22 Rok Szilard street, which Geza gave me during our last meeting. An elderly woman told me that the room was already taken, but the Ungar's lived next door, and they had an extra room. I rang the bell, introduced myself and told them who sent me. They were happy to see me, I was Jewish and single.

Before the war, they had a three bedroom large apartment with dining room. After the war, the Housing Department of the city divided the apartment into two separate units. The tenants shared the toilet and the bathroom. There were two separate entrances. Samuel and Serena Ungar had a small room, which they converted to a kitchen and a very large bedroom. An entrance from there led to a dining room with lots of heavy furniture including a large sofa. The rent was fair and, I rented this room. ---The next day I moved in. Yes, I was home and I was alone again.

My assignment took me to the outskirts of Budapest, to a large footwear factory, called LeatherTex. They produced every kind of footwear: from babies to the largest size of men's footwear. One of my friends was working in this factory before doing the same work, as I did in Tata and Debrecen. He had to find other work because of some eye related problems. He did a good job, and therefore it was easy to continue his work. I found a few old friends in the management with whom I worked very nicely.

My work involved mostly organizing the assembly line, in order to eliminate some waiting time in certain operations, and fighting with bureaucrats in the Ministry to receive new machinery. The latter one wasn't easy, but I did just that. I was single without any other obligations, and able to bury myself in my work.

The Ungars invited me Saturday for dinner. We were eating and talking, when my father appeared to my greatest surprise. With a loud voice, he started to complain, that I didn't go to his place to live with them, and he had to find out Friday evening from his in-laws, that I was renting a place from the Ungars. I knew why he was talking like this. He wanted to show to the Ungars that he was a caring father. We calmed him down and a few minutes later we continued our dinner, with him.