OPEN ARCHIVES OF KAUNAS

In December, 2018 The lions that are protecting the entrance to Vytautas Magnus War Museum commemorate their 85th anniversary.

Eugenija: "I saw the graves of Darius and Girėnas in the institute. I was admitted to the medicine institute in 1945. As a student I was curious to see them. There was a chapel. In the chapel there were two graves. In the Soviet times. When the Germans came, the medicine institute got closed. Although some people were let to finish their year. At that time I was in my first year. I went there one day, the graves were no longer there. There’s a story to this. The faculty of the pharmaceutical chemistry was on the third floor. There were a lot of spirits there. German soldiers were put on duty near the institute. Because they thought that these were those graves. Darius and Girėnas were hit by Germans. In the faculty worked professor Šiaulis, he basically lived there, because he was a bachelor. I worked for him when I finished the institute. There also lived a man responsible for fires, Rauba. Professor Šiaulis along with Rauba invited the German soldiers, made them drink a ton of alcohol, gave them some ham and whilst the Germans were drunk the two men made a hole in a wall, put the two graves in it, and plastered the wall to finish it off. The graves had vanished. When the Russians came back, they built a mausoleum in the old cemetery." (2019)

*Dobrė*: “The action was held in November 1941: at 6 pm we were lined up. Our line, where my aunt, my grandmother and I were standing, was checked only after dark. At the time, I was ill, covered in boils, and for that reason I looked very tired, and my grandmother as well. Only my aunt was able to work. A Jew officer came to us, he was a friend of my father, which is why he let us go to the „good side” and we were not condemned to die. Everyone was amazed; it was a gift from God to us.”

*Galina*: “Formerly, the Christmas tree was decorated at Vienybės (Unity) Square. There was a feast and Santa Claus was coming to see the children. We lived in S.Nėries Street (now V.Putvinskio Street), so we would see the decorated tree from our home windows. They would always decorate a real tree and near it would stand a sculpture of mister Lenin, pointing his butt to our windows…”

*Asija*: ”A protest happened in Ramybės (Serenity) Park, after which it was decided to remove the cemetery located in the park. Three schools were located near the cemetery and we (students at the time) saw everything from very close. Male teenagers could not miss such an event. They scavenged graves and brought found bones into the classroom in order to scare girls. Braver ones went deeper into the graves and showed everyone crosses or rings they had managed to find. This was a most horrifying period of Kaunas history. It united us with the Lithuanians.” (2017)

Menininko Gyčio Dovydaičio dokumentinis filmas-reportažas apie Kaunas 2022 organizuoto Istorijų festivalio 2019 centrą – Ramybės parką (Kauno senąsias kapines) – ir jo kaimynystėje gyvenačius kauniečius.

Eugenija: "I remember, when they destroyed Stalin’s monument. The windows of our apartment were facing the appendix. From the window I could say that the traffic had been stopped, people couldn’t walk across the street, nor go down the street of Parodos. A truck arrived. It was dark, a lot of police. I saw how they threw ropes on it, pulled them and demolished it. The leftover pieces were put in the truck. A policeman was even standing near the gates of our yard." (2019)

*Eglė:* Hens running across the yard, pigs being farmed behind the house and the old horse of Kaunas silently sitting in the garage... It is a description of a casual rural household after World War II, of one of the buildings located in Nemunas Street. Described as the Red-light district during the interwar period, the street was many times called the Venice of Kaunas as well, as the overflowing river used to flood the street. Despite the street being unknown to many tourists, and a few of who live in Kaunas since birth having been there, locals are full of memories. It is known that since the 1870’s, the property of land belonged to the town dweller Chaim Gidoni and after his death in 1876; to his family’s generations. In 1900, two-storey buildings (now Nemunas St. 14 and 14B) of red brick masonry were built. Later, in 1927 the property was sold to Benjamin Gruzdas, who was the owner of a jewellery store in Laisvės Avenue and the official provider of Omega watches. The oldest residents remember themselves being children, sitting in the house and watching playfully the overflowing river. Together with floating giant floes (heet of floating ice) the river used to flood almost up to the windows of the ground floor of the Nemunas St. 14B building. Ms. Elena was one of these children, who grew up listening to the clamour of children’s voices and saw adults organising birthday celebrations with food, music and dances until sunrise. However, not all of the memories cause nostalgia. According to Mr. Levas, several tragic accidents have happened: during one of the floods, a woman drowned when she accidentally fell into the basement, a German military officer jumping out from the balcony of building 14B, and one woman burned alive in the fire of a storehouse where she lived. Another local resident, Romas, remembers the times when several families had to live in one small apartment. Once, his mother hosted two students, who protested against the Soviet Union government by sewing so called “granny” pants out of the union’s flag and hanging it on the fence next to the parterre. These past stories allow people to feel the spirit of the street and re-live every moment experienced by former residents of Nemunas street.

*Elena:* "While drinking my morning tea, I read an article[https://www.lrytas.lt/kultura/istorija/2017/07/29/news/i-kino-teatra-ne-filmu-o-mesos-ar-teisingumo-paiesku-2075561/] about the old Kaunas movie theatres:" It's incredible, but today in Kaunas, out of almost 40 old movie theatres, only one had survived and is still operating. The rest became ghosts or a place where other activities are being developed. " As I‘ve read those words, an old story came to my mind. I couldn't wait to finish reading and find out what was that small and cozy movie theatre; I was lucky enough to go there once (when I came back, after a while, I didn't find the movie theatre there - there was a court instead). Apparently, the theatre was demolished in 2006, and the court got established here due to its strategically convenient location. Definitely, A. Mickevičiaus Street is in the very heart of the city, and all the important institutions are easily accessible: on the other side of the road - Kaunas interrogation isolator, next to it: Kaunas University of Medicine, where I have studied as well. I remember while looking through a window in a pharmacology laboratory, you could observe isolator‘s post office operations: through a slatted window of the third floor, a rolled paper note tied to a string – slowly moving down, until it finally reaches the window of the second floor. Someone’s hand grabs the note and a few minutes later - ties the answer, pulls the string for a few times, and the message starts traveling up. All-day long: up and down, up and down... And that story about the movie theatre goes like this. Back in 2006, “Vilnius Ghetto“ was released. Since the movie was created by a Lithuanian film studio, and I am really interested in this historical topic, I‘ve decided to go. As I‘ve read in a poster - the film had to be screened in a movie theatre near the university - it so convenient going there after the lecture. I remember it was warm and green. An evening. I took a bus going down the Parodos hill road, got off on Kęstučio Street, turned to Mickevičiaus Street, as I‘ve passed the interrogation isolator - went inside the university. So silent in there. The lecture was canceled. I‘ve crossed the road, bought a ticket, and entered a small, cozy auditorium. It was empty - I could sit wherever I wanted. I chose to sit in the middle of the sixth row. I remember thinking, that I’d never watched a movie being the only visitor in an empty movie theatre. I was ready to enjoy the moment, while a guy came in unexpectedly, a moment later - a girl. That ‘s OK, I thought, they should sit in the last row. They stood next to the entrance. The guy viewed over the auditorium, a moment after – he did hurry to take a seat ... next to me ... in an empty auditorium. I was so surprised, I didn’t say anything, I just smiled with my eyes, while looking at the screen. The girl approached and quietly sat next to him.

*Judita*: ”I had many photos in the ghetto house. They became toys when my parents would go to work and my little brothers to school. When being alone in the ghetto, I was mostly afraid that some man with a gun would come and shoot me down. That fear hasn’t disappeared up until this day, but now it is different…”

*Kęstutis*: „Augau Aleksote, S. Dariaus ir S. Girėno gatvėje. Gyvenome kieme, kuriame stovėjo du namai ir vienuolika lietuvių šeimų. Tad vaikų buvo daug, kokie septyni panašaus amžiaus berniukai. Po pamokų kieme daugiausia žaisdavome futbolą. Vakare kieme vyresni žmonės susėsdavo grupelėmis ir lošdavo kortomis. Todėl mes turėdavome ieškoti kitos vietos. Netoli buvo aerodromas, didelės pievos, eidavome tenai. Žaisdavome visokiausius judrius žaidimus: tinklinį, krepšinį, futbolą... Aerodrome prie mūsų prisijungdavo ir kiti vaikai. Visi ėjome į 17-tą vidurinę mokyklą, vieni kitus pažinojome, ne taip, kaip dabar... Buvo laikas, kai S. Dariaus ir S. Girėno gatve nevažiuodavo autobusai. Naudodavomės funikulieriumi, nusileidę pėstute per tiltą eidavome į miestą. Kai buvau paauglys, jau eidavome į šokius Pergalės gamykloje, J. Gruodžio muzikos ir Medicinos seserų mokykloje prie Gertrūdos bažnyčios, Klamkėje – net nežinau, kodėl taip vadinome – prie Muzikinio teatro... 17-toje mokykloje taip pat būdavo šokiai, bet ne tokie įdomūs, nes ten įleisdavo tik mokinius. J. Gruodžio mokykloje visuomet grodavo gyvą muziką, kitur – įvairiai. Žiemą ateidavome su paltais. Turėdavome atsisegti ir parodyti, ar dėvime švarką ir ryšime kaklaraištį. Tuomet įleisdavo. Jeigu būdavai su megztiniu – ne. Eidavau į kino teatrą „Pašvaistė“, kuris stovėjo šalia bažnyčios. Ypač gražūs buvo spalvoti filmai „Vargdieniai“, „Paryžiaus katedra“, „Trys muškietininkai“. Į kiną eidavo labai daug žmonių. Į kavinę užsukdavau retai. Jų nebuvo tiek daug: „Metropolis“, „Tulpė“, „Orbita“. Tai suaugusių žmonių vietos. Nors atsimenu, kad kavinėje „Vakaras“ sukdavosi grindys. Studijų laikais eidavome į Spurginę šalia Senamiesčio, ten būdavo ir skanu, ir nebrangu. Vis dėlto, reikia įvertinti, kad lankymasis kavinėse labai priklausė nuo finansinės padėties. Pokario metais pinigų nebuvo. Būdami vaikai stovėdavome per naktį prie parduotuvės laukdami miltų, cukraus, duonos... Ryte ateidavo tėvai ir mus pakeisdavo. Žaisdavome futbolą prie aerodromo ir matydavome, kaip atvažiuoja duonos mašina. Mesdavome viską ir lėkdavome jos pirkti.“ (2019 m.)