Was that a day, the 22nd of May! Something more beautiful and wonderful one cannot have experienced! And at 2 PM during dinner we did not have a premonition and were depressed and unhappy as every day and a few hours later, Riga was freed and the rejoicing and thankfulness of the inhabitants knew no boundaries. But of this day you can read enough in the newspapers. I want to tell you now, how we fared.

After Alphons and Heinrich had left with the National Guard on January 2nd, we were left in a rather depressed mood. Especially Mary was rather panic-stricken. Friedel had a light case of the flu and was lying in bed, otherwise Mama and Mary would probably also have fled also at the last minute. In the afternoon, around 5 o’clock the German Theater started burning. That gave a macabre impression. An English ship was still anchored in the Duna and small patrols of armed marines walked through the city and played with searchlights. That gave us a certain feeling of security. In the streets was a lot of commotion. Everywhere one could see people with their luggage going to the Duna. The German ship Roma was so overcrowded, that many who were already on it went back home. The next morning, the 3rd of January every ship had disappeared and the German military had left.

And then there were shootings at the grocery warehouses, where a lot of people had gathered for looting. About 15 people were shot and it was said that they lay in front of the Russian Theater until evening. Later on, they were buried in the Esplanade with great ceremony. The grave was always covered with flowers and a soldier stood honor guard.

At that day, on January 3rd, the looting and thieving went on until evening. In late afternoon I went to the Duna and saw from afar how a long queue of people was moving in the snow. That was a train of people with sacks, wheelbarrows, and baskets, who lugged the looted things away. In between there was always some shooting, and finally the warehouses were set on fire.

Around 7 o’clock the Bolsheviks moved into town without a fanfare. We saw them only on the next day. They converged like a wild swarm of bees on our house where three elegant apartments stood empty. The whole region around the Esplanade, Elisabethstreet and so on, were full of these vermin. Below us a horde of soldiers moved in and I will never forget the night that followed. They supposedly found some wine in the apartment and immediately got drunk. Then they started to rampage like wild men. They played the harmonica, danced, and screamed. Then it became quiet; they were playing cards. Finally there was a bad fight and a lot of cursing. You can imagine in what shape Mama and Mary were in and I was not exactly feeling very brave. We laid in bed in our clothes and had arranged with the woman in the basement, that we could flee through the back door if the men came in through the front. But we were left in peace. Ever now and then, a guy banged on the door and asked for his comrades. We told him politely to go down a level and he would leave. Finally the noise went down and around 2 AM everything was quiet. The maid from downstairs, who had been left behind by her employers, came in the evening several times up to us and cried fearfully. But they did not touch her. She had locked herself in her room and was left alone. She could not save any of the possessions of her employers; except for a few large pieces of furniture, everything was hauled away.

The following times were relatively quiet. There was order in the city and one did not hear of any atrocities. Mary and I went to a German meeting where comrade Stritschka talked very sensibly and Mary and I were so taken with his likable personality that we almost believed in Bolshevism.

Most families had to take in soldiers. Grundmann’s had to house 42 men, they only had the bedrooms for themselves. We immediately moved the best furniture to the back room and furnished the three front rooms with older furniture.

Soon availability of food became critical. In one week all the stores had been bought out and there was absolutely nothing to be had on the market. The Kerenski-money immediately flooded the whole town. No one wanted to take it and therefore all the goods disappeared. One could only buy things on the black market and the prices went up into storybook heights. For a pound of potatoes one had to pay up to 6 Ruble, for butter 50 to 60, meat 4, milk up to 11 Ruble for a liter, and so on. Most people had to rely on the water soup that was handed out by the city and a little bread that one could get every now and then. Typhus because of hunger was widespread and the people died like flies.

After a few weeks searches of the homes started. They did also come to us one night, but were cursory and left already after half an hour, after Mary had offered them a cup of tea and they had declined. Soon we started hearing about arrests. One of the first, who was taken, was our cousin, the pharmacist Lietz. He was in jail for three weeks, because, as was said, a servant had accused him of brutality. There was never a trial. One day he was told: go home; he took his pillow and blankets and went home. However, meanwhile his wife had also been one of the first who had been thrown out of her apartments. However, she was allowed to take along her bedroom furniture and all the linen and some other things. The pharmacist Lietz did not fair too badly in prison. In the beginning, one could bring food for the prisoners. Even if they got only half of it, they were not starving.

At the end of January or the beginning of February, Mr. Josef Grundmann from Kasaki came to Riga. Soon after his arrival he furnished the big hall as an office to save them from further billeting of soldiers. The last 20 to 60 men had just left. This office was officially registered and permission was given by the top authorities. Officially, it was the office of his factory in Riga. The two Mr. Grundmanns and Mr. Bruckner, Miss Hoppner and Loli were listed as employees. First everything went very well, but then one day misfortune arrived. One morning, when they were just all sitting together, a search of the house was done and, although nothing suspicious could be found, the two Mr. Grundmanns, Mr. Bruckel, a Mr. Karpinski, who had fled from the country and lived by Grundmann’s, and also a gentleman who had just happened to be there to sell a typewriter and finally the maid Mathilde were all apprehended. The commissioners, who were quite reasonable (that is not rough or coarse), said, they had received an anonymous letter, that said that they were holding “white guard meetings” in the apartment of the Grundmann’s. The maid Mathilde stood under suspicion that she had written the letter – which is why she had to come along.

Mrs. Grundmann and we all thought that it would be only a few days. Many people had been arrested already and let go; therefore we did not think it was as terrible, as it really was. Now weeks and weeks passed, and the poor guys were moved from the small prison to the central prison, were one could bring food for the prisoners only twice a month. Mrs. Bruckel, Loli, and Miss Hoppner did everything that they possibly could do, to lighten the prisoners’ lot. They spent thousands of Rubles for bribes. Always they were put off and were promised all kind of things. For weeks it was said that they would be freed in the next days and always we waited in vain. It was a terrible time.

In march, a couple of days after us, Mrs. Grundmann and Loli were driven out of their home and given a room with kitchen in a Moscow suburb. They had to share this with another family, mother and two daughters. For all five they had two mattresses and five pillows. On these they slept in the kitchen and hallway. It was bitingly cold that year and you could hardly get any wood. The young girls looked for underbrush in the woods and heated the kitchen somewhat. Later on some compassionate soul put a bed in there for Mrs. Grundmann. The others slept until the end in the hallway without getting undressed. You cannot imagine what the poor Grundmanns suffered. Finally, they were even unofficially robbed. Some swindler came by night to “search the house”. They took stock certificates and demanded under threats both money and jewelry. Mrs. Grundmann was so intimidated and indifferent that she gave them 20,000 Rubles and her diamond brooch, which they had salvaged up to now. Then they demanded that Mrs. Grundmann and Loli appear at an official office in the Elisabethstreet the next day. But when they went there, this office did not exist. They never heard from the swindlers nor the money and jewelry again.

One of the worst day was, when we read in the morning in the “Red Flag” the names of those that had been sentenced to death and saw the names of Mr. Grundmann and friends among them. We were numb and petriefied. But the next day, the rumor was that they had not been shot to death, it was just a case of blackmail. We breathed more freely again. It went on like this for weeks and months. Sometimes it was said they were dead, other times that they certainly are alive and held somewhere in secret. We only learned the terrible truth after we were freed.

In the last part, I wrote about the period up to the beginning of February, when the Grundmanns were arrested. At that time, we still lived in relative quietness in our old apartment, but the Bolsheviks raged already quite horrendously. All our acquaintances had been driven out of their homes. Some were allowed to take beds and some linen and clothes, others could not even take that. Then came the endless decrees. All money, stock certificates, gold, silver was supposed to be handed in. A few days later, all linen, clothes and shoes above a certain minimum should be handed in. The minimum was 4 shirts, pants, and stockings per person and every family could keep two tablecloths. There was a great hauling of things. Everybody wanted to save as much as possible. Toni, our old cook, kept all the suits and shoes of the boys who were in the militia and some of our silver. I took a lot to the aunts, since we thought it was safer in their small rooms. All my students, who lived in more modest neighborhoods, took something with them after each lesson. Since all the decrees were always addressed to the bourgeoisie, we ignored them. To the bourgeoisie belonged all those people who did not live from the fruits of their personal work. We did not think, we belonged since we both, Mary and I, belonged to professional unions, I belonged to the teacher’s union and Mary to the artist’s union. This protected us somewhat. It happened often, that one was stopped on the street and when you did not have an identity card, you were led away to some public work. That was terrible, because one had to do the dirtiest and humiliating jobs. Some ladies had to wash the linen of typhus patients in the hospital or had to put corpses into caskets, as long as caskets were available. Later on the corpses were buried in mass graves. Typhus from hunger was terrible and even now (4th of June, 1919) it is raging.

Another favorite work for people without work was cleaning of public bathrooms. For that one did not get rags or brushes. If one did not want to do it with one’s hands, then one was allowed to use the petticoat. Men had it slightly better. They were sent to drive manure to the meadows or dig graves in the cemetery. Usually one was caught out on the street, but sometimes they took the people out of their homes.

After the decree had come out about the dropping off of clothes and linen, commissions went from house to house to control. Every piece was registered and if one had too many, one had to go oneself to drop them off. But all that was meaningless. As long as one was not in prison or hungry one thought oneself lucky. Nobody mourned worldly goods. Terrible was only the hunger. Many or maybe most of the people lived only on one plateful of soup a day and the half-pound bread that was being distributed. In the soup kitchen you could see people of our circles that were thin as a skeleton and begged everyone to sell them a stamp of soup. After three o’clock when the distribution had ended, the rest of the soup was being sold without stamps, everyone could by one portion as long as supply held out. I watched this once. It was terrible. Like wild animals everyone stormed the people at the register. Children were almost squashed to death, nobody seemed to care. It was such a screaming and pushing that I got very scared. The soup, for which there was such fighting, contained only water and some dried vegetables most of the week and the other days potatoes that had been cut into pieces and some barley. We ate the soup mostly in the evening and if we did not have any bread, we made pancakes from the skins of the potatoes and a little bit of flour. For the midday meal we usually had a solid meal, potatoes with some sauce or turnips, which before we only thought of as feed for pigs. Sometimes there was a little bit of meat.

Aunt Mila had collected acorns during the last fall, all together about 60 pounds. From these she made wonderful pancakes. When I washed my clothes at her place, even that we did ourselves, she entertained me with these and even put a little bit of sugar on top and made a cup of hot tea. It was a delicious meal. At home, I did not tell about this, so that the others would not get envious. You can see, we did not starve, however, we were hungry most of the time. To see someone eat or talk about eating was also agony.

Uncountable people perished. Some took their own lives out of desperation; others lost their minds. Among those was Mr. Borchert, the father of Mary’s friend. He was terribly excited, because one day the whole family was supposed to be arrested because they had had contact with a “murderer”. This murderer was Minister Basse, in whose congregation in the country a notorious thief and bandit had been shot. Now the son, an illiterate, appeared as a commissioner and his first action in office was to take revenge on Minister Basse. He was immediately shot, and everyone who had had contact with him was supposed to be arrested. Mr. Borchert managed to buy himself and his family freedom, but only after he and especially his daughters had been tortured by this rogue. Now he is in a clinic for nervous disorders and his condition is pretty hopeless.

The worst case I heard about was the dentist Worm, who had still treated me during this time. He was supposed to have been evicted from his home although his child was very sick with scarlet fever. They had already stolen everything and at the end even his groceries. Then in desperation he first cut his child’s throat and then his wife and finally his own. Another family, after the last rations had been eaten, sat down in chairs in the kitchen and opened the gas on the stove. When the gas smell got into the next apartment, they found them dead. I think there were four persons all older. One heard a lot of cases like these.

Of our acquaintances none were spared. Those who were not executed or arrested were evicted. Everyone in the Borcherts family could only save one bundle and were put into the street at night. When the young Mrs. Kalkbrenner asked, that she should be allowed to take some grits for her child, the rifle woman – they were the worst – said she should not talk so much about her child or they would take it and put it into a reform school; they had the right to do that. An acquaintance of Mary, a young woman who also worked with recitation and who at the beginning of this time had visited us often and encouraged us, suddenly disappeared with her mother without a trace. One day she was arrested and never got free again.

During one period they arrested complete houses. At night or also during the day, armed groups came and took all the people from all the apartments. Women, children and sick people were prodded with whips. Then they were put into overfilled prisons, were often 17 people were put into a cell of one. They did not receive any food during the first 24 hours and after that the famous soup out of potato peels and a quarter of a pound of bread. In 10 to 14 days the women and children were sent back home, unless they had died before that of typhus. I do not exaggerate, I am writing it as I have heard it from several students and other people who had experienced it themselves. Some might have had it a little better, when they had less sadistic guards, others had it worse. The whole thing was terrible.

At the beginning of March one day, the porter, who always was very decent, came to us to tell us that some commissaries had been there and said that they would need the whole front of the building for office space. He was just telling us, so that we had time to put our affairs in order. Now we started quickly to get as much as possible out of the house. Some of my students were wonderful. The whole day they ran back and force to take silver, linen, and dishes away. We brought as much as we could to the aunts and other friends. After about a week, a seventeen-year-old kid came and told us that we had to leave in 24 hours. We were allowed to take along the following: for everyone, one mattress, one pillow, one blanket, clothing not over the norm, and for everyone two plates, one glass and knife, fork, and spoon.

Now as a teacher and employee of the “Republic of Latvia” I had an identity card with several stamps and Mary had an identity card as a member of the artists union “Spartacus”. Therefore they could not deal with us as they did with the general bourgeoisie and the young man seemed to be polite and sympathetic. He proposed that we could evict some family out of the backside apartments and move in there. I thanked him for the advice.

Now he started to walk from room to room and write down every piece of furniture or knickknacks, except for the pictures and flower pots. We were allowed to take only portraits. Our “Old Jew”, the oil painting in the dining room, I saved, by telling him that it was a portrait of my great grandfather. As long as he was busy in the second and third room, we brought things from the last room into the first one that had been already registered. This way we saved several lamps, pictures, and vases. We were lucky, that there was only one guy and a pretty nice one. He should have stayed around and controlled everything, while we packed, as it was usually done. But he refrained and came only back the next morning. In the maid’s room we moved Papa’s old mahogany bed with two mattresses on top of each other. When he wanted to register this bed and the sewing machine, our maid made a big scene. She claimed that those were her things. The bed had been given to her the last Christmas she cried and screamed until he permitted her to take both along. That was the only piece of furniture we could save. Afterwards, Mary did a lot of running around to get the piano, to which she was entitled as an artist.

Through Mr. Lubbe, we found a nice, partially furnished apartment that had belonged to his brother, who had fled to Germany. We managed finally to pack everything, our clothes, linen, books, pictures, and knickknacks that were still in the house, into 7 or 8 baskets and suitcases. The next morning the commissioner came back and now everything went in an extreme hurry. He gave us a piece of paper that said that we were permitted to take 7 suitcases (4 with books, a special favor because I was a teacher), 2 sacks with pillows and several other small things. With this piece of paper we went to the Housing commissioner, where we received another one, that gave us permission to transport the named things from the house on Kirchenstreet 5 to the Muhlenstreet 3. With that the express could get started. The whole thing cost us 150 Rubles in bribes. Outside it was raining and snowing. We had packed almost the whole night and were tired and hungry. There was no bread in the house and we had no time to cook. It was a sad state of affairs. But the woman in the basement, Mama’s special friend who later on would give us potato peels for pancakes, brought us at the last moment a kettle with steaming soup. That strengthened us and gave us again hope.

We liked the new apartment. The rooms were spacious, light, and friendly, only terribly cold, because they had been empty since Christmas. At this time wood was first 15 Rubles and later on 30 Rubles for a ring. With a ring we got along for two days, if we were thrifty. Freezing was terrible, but one got used to it. At this point a rather cold period of time began that lasted into May. Only when the sun was shining, was it bearable, because all our windows were on the south side. Later on, I received through the school half a cord of wood; with that we got along for quite some time. Illumination did not exist in our rooms. Through Mr. Kalkbrenner we received a little petroleum, but that was hardly worth mentioning. A student gave me a few lights. The Bolsheviks had thought up something clever. Immediately after they moved in, they moved the clocks forward by an hour and in the middle of March another two-and-a-half hours, so that we almost did not need any light. When you got up in the morning around 8 o’clock, it started to get light and in the evening one could comfortably darn socks until 11 o’clock. That was very pleasant. We now arranged everything quite comfortably.

We would have been satisfied with everything if we could just have lived in peace. But it was almost a sport with the Bolsheviks to harass the evicted further with searches of the home, arrests, and further evictions. Thus Mama and Mary were constantly worried. Mary was trying day and night to find further hiding places for our money, bonds, and jewelry. You cannot imagine how creative she was. One thousand Ruble laid nicely in the toothpowder carton under a false bottom, another one between her shoe soles; two she wore in her garter. Diamond brooches were covered with velvet and used as decoration on her winter hat. But most of it we kept in the water case of the toilet. It did not work when we moved in and instead of having it repaired, Mary got the ingenious idea to use it as a safe. However, after our eviction we were not bothered again, and all our worries were unnecessary.

Then there was a time around Easter, when all our supplies were at an end. We often did not know what we would eat the next day. But there always were some miracles. We started to exchange old clothes and other things for groceries. For an old curtain we once got 60 pounds of potatoes, for a blouse usually 3 pounds of flour or rye. That went on quite lively. If one needed cash one went to the black market with some old clothes. In a few minutes one could get several hundred Kerenski Ruble. After this invention, we were free of material worries for a time.

We were evicted from our apartment in the Kirchenstreet on the 10th of March. On the 13th of March, it was said, that Mitau had been freed from the Bolsheviks and everyone was hopeful that the hour of freedom would also come soon for Riga. You cannot imagine with how much suspense we listened for every sound of cannon fire and how we attributed a good meaning to every shooting in the city. Everyone was convinced that it would be only a few more days. But the most gloomy days came, when a few days later the newspaper wrote that Windau had been taken by the Bolsheviks and that they were retaking Mitau. In Riga they raged terribly. Complete blocks of streets were arrested. Again and again there were lists in the newspaper of those sentenced to death, always including some acquaintance. You lost all courage and all will to live. Only work helped to ignore the misery and the terrible gloom.

Mary had a very good position on a small stage, which had been started by Manfred Kyber. That was very nice. On a little stage in a coffeehouse different artists performed; music, songs, recitation, and dance were offered and everything was at a professional level. Mary appeared daily and every week she had to think up a new recitation. She always appeared in a costume that fit her oration and seemed to appeal to everyone. The coffeehouse was always packed, although the entrance was 10 and 5 Rubles. You could drink black coffee for 5 Rubles a cup, cocoa was 15 Ruble, and there were rolls for 5 Rubles apiece. Business boomed. According to communistic principles, the income was divided in equal parts between the artists, director, servers, and any other employees. Mary earned in some weeks more than 300 Rubles. Of course, everything was Kerenski-money and you could only buy what was in the stores, mostly washing powder and gelatin.

Now I want to describe one very unpleasant day, which I won’t forget very soon. In April or at the beginning of May, Aunt Charlotte got very sick. Her feet swelled up to her knees so that she could not walk and laid in bed for several weeks. During that time I brought her soup and bread from the soup kitchen every day. I had a key for the front door, so that I could come and go without having to knock. One day after I had just come in I suddenly was standing in front of a terrible guy, who is just in the process of sealing her wardrobe. Aunt Mila was not home and had locked her wardrobe. I found Lotte in the last room with trembling knees next to a second guy, who was searching her chest of drawers. She had signed a piece of paper saying that she had nothing hidden or buried and was not storing someone else’s possessions. Now the thing was that Aunt Mila had buried a chest with all our gold things and another one with silver spoons and a silver coffee pot and sugar bowl from Mama in her woodshed. I had always worn my gold chain and the beautiful diamond ring from my mother. Aunt Mila always plagued me that I should give the things to her before they were stolen. Finally I gave in and she buried them also in the woodshed.

Now they started searching the whole apartment and when they did not find anything, they went to the neighbors and then into the garden and finally into the woodshed. Meanwhile Aunt Mila had come home and we talked about what she should say, if she was questioned. Luckily she had not been asked before, whether she had buried anything and did not have to sign anything. Of course, they found my things immediately. I watched the whole process from a window in the neighbor's apartment. Like a mad man, the guy came immediately back and flung himself at Lotte. Now she should repeat that she had not buried anything. She could with good conscience say that she had not. Now it was Aunt Mila’s turn. She confessed immediately, and the mad man calmed down and they left with their stolen goods. In the woodshed of the neighbor they found a big tin box with silverware for 24 persons. This happened exactly one week before the Germans moved in.

The time went by with excitements and disappointments. One week later, we were as unhappy and depressed in the morning in school as usual. There were absolutely no encouraging sings in the air. We no longer heard from the optimists who knew from absolutely certain sources that it would be only a few weeks. On that Thursday no consoling rumor was heard. The only things, that lightened the spirit a little, were the airplanes that appeared again and again despite the cloudy sky and were wildly shot at. When we all got together for lunch around 2 PM, Mary and Friedel did not know anything new. Mama was at that point sick and was lying in bed. Around 3PM I was expecting a student. He did come, but only to tell me very excitedly, that the Germans were in Olai and for sure would be in Riga the next day. The Bolsheviks were in full retreat. He could not sit still for his lesson, he was much too excited. You cannot imagine how good this news felt, although one did not dare believe it. I could have kissed the boy for joy.

Friedel went immediately to town to see what was going on. Mary, who shortly before had left to visit friends, came back already after half an hour. There was such odd excitement in the city, that she did not dare drive to her friends. Soon Friedel came back to tell us that the Bolsheviks were fleeing with their canons. It was a sight that made one’s heart dance. Now the news rushed each other. Around 5 o’clock a neighbor came to tell us that the Germans were at the Dune, and around 6 we saw the first German tank. Was that a delight and jubilation. Around 8, after dinner, we went out and met acquaintances from the militia, who could give us news of Heinrich and Alphons. The whole town was on the street. We met acquaintances we had not seen during the 5 months. We hugged and kissed and cried for joy. That was the most eventful and happiest day of our life.

Just now I am sitting in the public gardens and enjoy the beautiful spring splendor. Since the freeing of Riga, spring and the summer finally came and everything is as fragrant and as beautiful like never before. The winter after New Year was especially cold and long. Until the middle of May we hardly had a warm day. Therefore, one is enjoying everything doubly; and then there is the wonderful feeling of piece and security, that we got back. You cannot imagine how wonderful that is. I am certainly not an easily excitable or nervous person and still I suffered a lot. How must it have been for the others that experienced worse hardships? For instance, during the whole 5 months I hardly ever would sleep through the night. Usually, I was awake around 1 or 2 and just lay there until the morning. Around 7:30 I would get up still worn out. Since I had to pay close attention at work, it was very strenuous. Since the first day when we were secure again, I sleep splendidly through the whole night without waking up. The whole thing was strictly nerves.

Now, with this beautiful spring weather and after all the endured inner pain, one can feel again, how beautiful life is; and one asks involuntarily how one has earned such blessing, to be able to enjoy so much beauty again, when hundreds and thousands of better and finer people had to pay with their lives. We have become humbler and more modest in these last 5 months. The people here appear to me very mature. Quite different from the refugees who slowly are coming back and whose small worries and ideas seem so presumptuous