Interview Karl Jakubec

Well, then. My parents I actually got to know only in later years. My mother and my father were divorced. That has emerged from the records. Yes, one was aggressive and rude, and the other, my mother, was suicidal. So, they didn’t harmonize, they got divorced.

I came twice to Spiegelgrund. The first time I was a baby, I was taken away from my mother. I cannot remember why. I can [learn] about the reason only from the records, because of her mental state, suicide attempt and so on. The second time I came there, I had a club foot. That means, I was mobility impaired. I couldn’t walk. I can still remember this, I couldn’t walk. I was just crawling about. And what I have heard, learned from people who know me, who are older, who know me from Pavilion 15 and such, that they actually didn’t intend to keep me alive, right.

“From the case history of Karl Jakubec, Pavilion 15. He originated from a congenitally” – when I hear congenital I already fly off the handle – “congenitally inferior family. The child’s mother was in a lunatic asylum for four years following a suicide attempt. The diagnosis was psychopathy with forms of epilepsy, attacks. The patient is described as slightly feeble-minded. The father of the child’s mother was allegedly epileptic. The father is said to be nervous and irascible. The mother, who had married after her discharge from the lunatic asylum, lives separated from the father since 1939. The child has an inborn club foot left, slight mental retardation cannot be asserted with any certainty or probability based on tests and observations at Pavilion 15. One has to await further development. Karl will be transferred to the Frischau children’s home.”

Yes, I believe this was in Frischau, and we always had to, it was already ’44/’45, there was the great bombardment at the end of the war, right, they had destroyed everything, and we always had to…, when the siren went off, we had to run across the entire yard and run down into the basement. This was such an air-raid shelter, in reality actually just a basement, because there wasn’t anything in it, right. And we had to stay in there, often we were down there for days on end, we only lived on water and bread and a few apples and whatever there was down there. So we couldn’t get out while they were bombarding. That is, until they said the bombardment has now abated, then we could go up again. Then we went up again over the whole thing and then again to our thing. Often, it didn’t take a day or two and again we were down in the basement and are again there. So that was the end of the war. There was strong bombardment. So I can…, everybody was running, everybody [hand] in hand and we ran after, right. That was toward the end of my kindergarten years. It was ’44/’45. I was born in ’39, five, six years, these were the last years of kindergarten, right.

At the time we didn’t understand at all that this was something bad, a bombardment. But for us it was something, we are together again, we could talk a bit down there, a bit together amicably, a bit of snuggling and such, we could do anything down there, right. For us, it wasn’t that terrible or what do I know. Yes, today I think about it, are you stupid, what have you gotten here, this isn’t fun when you are being bombarded, but then in childhood this was diversion for us, and we were more or less happy about it. A few were afraid, a few took it phlegmatically, I rather belonged to those who..., for me this was diversion. Hurray, there is again some action going on, right.

I think I came to Spiegelgrund for the second time in ’44. In total, I spent 15 months on Spiegelgrund, in two installments. I was a total of 15 months or even longer, at least, 15 months I was at Spiegelgrund, right.

What I can remember, these were such compartments, partially with curtains. That means, these were such rooms, they were partially divided by curtains. That means, we were in bed, we had cribs. These were all, well, young children one could say, not babies anymore, rather, well, up to six, seven, eight years old. Young children. Some were lying in cribs, I, for instance, was still in the crib, others were already with the bars down. Daily routine was in a way that actually their interest in us was more medical than human. This means, they were not interested how we were doing as individuals, rather they were interested, what can I try out on this one, what can I do with that one, what can I continue researching, and what can I learn more. This was actually the main task of Spiegelgrund, right. Up to a certain point, and where it was no longer working, partially they also died eventually, right. Them with their injections. What they distributed, I can still remember well, I also got a few, then you’d be half dead for three days. One was a real human guinea pig. We were always given such an injection, or when one was a bit too restless or, as children are, some days a bit too vivacious or let’s say screams more or something or because of pain or something, then they simply gave some sedative shots, they couldn’t care less what they injected, main thing they gave an injection, and main thing there was peace and quiet again for a while. And then we felt really miserable, and then several would die as a result, right.

And here I have to say, this is really, right... Therefore, I know and when one is together with such children and suddenly one or the other disappears, then one wonders... After all, it’s exactly the same when one lies in the hospital, and someone goes downstairs for surgery and afterward doesn’t return anymore. Then, one also wonders, what’s the matter with him. For a few days he might be in intensive care, but then, in time, he should return upstairs, and then he doesn’t return. Then also one thinks, he passed away down there, or what do I know, or he didn’t survive it or something. And there, it was exactly like this, right.

After all, this was the pavilion, which... It was always said, those who get in there, half of them won’t get out anymore. And, in fact, this was the case. Half of them never got out of there. Either they were already so old that they were then deported, or they passed away there, or someone had such good luck like I had, that I then, what do I know, happened to get to the year ’45, when they no longer could do what they wanted, that someone already held his protecting hand over it.

Whether you had enough food or not, whether you were hungry or not, they couldn’t care less. You had your meals, it’s take it or leave it, that was their motto, that’s it. If you eat it, fine, if you don’t eat it, well, then they take it away, and that’s it. Or else, nobody saw to it that we were clean or something. There were [certain] times when diapers were changed, and after that, well, when it happened, so it happened, and that’s it. So you have to wait for the next time, until the nurse returns and does it again. So you could scream and cry, they couldn’t care less, and if you were too noisy, you would get a little sedative and case closed, right. So that was actually the main task of Spiegelgrund, right.

That one could say that they made an effort, through affection, or that one sees, that one helps because he is really sick, or something is wrong, they couldn’t care less. It was a machinery that kept running. Daily routine was from morning to night, daily from A to Z. It was always the same, nothing ever changed. He would come in the morning with his appendage, made his visit, gave his instructions, which were carried out in the course of the day, and the next day it went on in the same manner. Thus, one lived from one day to the next and didn’t have a whole lot of joy or something. Because we ourselves no longer cared, because we became so phlegmatic, so actually we couldn’t care less what he was doing. So when he would come, in the beginning one was still afraid, Jesus, here he comes again. But in time, one gets so phlegmatic that one just says, we cannot change anything, you just have to let it happen.

We got fresh air through the open window, of course barred, that’s obvious. Nothing there was without bars, right. Everything barred, everything locked, keys.... It is like today a prison or something, that’s how it was, right. Some pastime or that one would encourage a child or, well, I’ll sit down now and read something to him or tell him a story or what do I know, all that didn’t exist, didn’t exist. They only showed up when you became rebellious, when you would scream, then they came running, and saw to it that you’d be calmed down as fast as possible, and that you lie in your bed and finished. They liked that because then they had peace and quiet, didn’t have anything to do, and that was the best for them, right.

And also the way they would treat a person, when I think back. How they handled the bodies, not in a reverent manner, when one died or something. They simply pulled him out and finished, he was dead, end of story. Today, one folds the hands together and covers him, and a candle is lit, as it was done recently with a relative of mine, as we did it, and he was in the hospital and died. They were also moved to an adjacent room, the relatives could say their farewells. Not there, he died, was pulled away, gone.

So, time and again, time and again I’m saying this: They destroyed our dignity. One couldn’t achieve any dignity. So the moment they noticed that you tried to be something, that you’d say, there is something about me, I have something to show, I can do things, that was suppressed immediately. This happened on Spiegelgrund, that happened in all homes, doesn’t matter whether Catholic – Well, about the Catholic ones, I don’t want to say a lot because here… – Whether these were the Catholic homes or those for difficult children, whatever they were called, as soon as they noticed that you are blossoming a bit, with dignity or something, right away they would break your neck and would push you to the ground. You belong down there on the ground, and you have lost nothing up here. They let you sense this, no way around it. So when you thought you can do a bit, right away they’d push you back down, unbelievable. And that’s how it was everywhere.

Well, that was more or less the story of Spiegelgrund, about the time, let’s say, until ’45 when I got to Hütteldorf, when I got there. I remember that pretty well. These were two buildings. On one side was the principal and the classrooms and on the other side the bedrooms. Downstairs, the kitchen, you went outside to the yard. And I still remember well, when for the first time it was my turn… We had such a porch. And there were three supervisors. And the thing was actually called home for difficult children. It’s written in here anyway, well, that was already that, it was called a home for difficult children, at age six, five, how can I know that I’m so difficult? And if yes, it was because I was shaped by my childhood, one is shaped, right. And I still remember well, the first time he pulled me out, and there for the first time, my apologies for saying this, but for the first time I had to give him a blow job. I was so disgusted and horrified, and I have an image inside me as if he still stood before me. Well I say, if he stood here before me today, I still could recognize him to a hair, I can’t get him out of my mind. Although he won’t be alive anymore, he’d have to be 100 years by now, but if he got up here, right away I would recognize him, well, he wouldn’t be able to deny it, right. And as I said, to continue, it didn’t only happen to me, but they would choose, once it would be Bill’s turn, then Bob’s. So when the three of them were on duty, we’d already know: Jesus, today something will happen again to someone. We even, I was among them, periodically we would wet our bed out of fear, right. And then it was like this, that it was only when those were on duty, so we knew exactly. And then it got worse because when we would wet our beds, he would throw us out and throw the wet cloth on our heads and put us outside on the cold corridor. At the time, everything was only stone floor. There was nothing like a carpet as it is today, this was stone. You’d stand outside with the wet rag over your head. There was nothing you could do about it. And that’s what takes your dignity away.

As they frequently say today, starting ’45, everything was over, everything is good, everything is wonderful and such. When someone says that to me, then I say: “Listen, then you should have gone through what I went through or hundreds of others too, hundreds of others who went through this or even thousands went through this, right.” So it wasn’t that you could say lever down, and everything was OK. It took years, it went on like this. So they were in this routine, the drill was part of it, and that’s it. Right, so this is stupid talking, as some say, yes, that was anyway ’45, things went well, it was over, then we had the occupation, then we had food, everything. Yes, we didn’t have a thing, this salted butter in cans, that’s what we had and what else, they gave it to us piecemeal. I couldn’t look at it anymore because it was so oversalted the butter. Or those peas in the can, where worms were crawling around. They cooked it downstairs in the kitchen. They sifted out the worms with a sieve, the Americans would send this to us. What they were throwing out, they would send to us, in the CARE packages as it was called. They did send good CARE packages as well, but the homes didn’t receive them, not the homes. The villas would receive them everywhere, they would get it, but not our ilk. Because sometimes you would look into the kitchen to see the kind of dreck they would use for cooking. But we were happy to have that at least, we were glad we had that, right.

Another incident: for instance, with the food. Food used to be a scarce commodity. Why, I don’t know, there simply wasn’t anything. They’d say, there is nothing, and instead of milk we’d always have powdered milk, and it was always delivered. And we knew where the powdered milk was. Naturally, we were already so hungry, two, three boys, we went, and we would eat the powdered milk with our hands. And at our age and smart as we were, we would run, of course, and leave an exact trace behind with the powdered milk. So they caught us right away, that’s obvious anyway. And what then followed, we could already imagine. So they gave us this whipping, it couldn’t be worse. And then, all the more, they wouldn’t give us food for three days.

Yes, and as I said, these were the circumstances. So when at the end you leave the apprentices’ home, with a pair of shoes, a coat, a shirt, a west and then… Without anything, right, to start all over again. And, indeed, at the municipality, in courses and evening classes and such over the years, I advanced pretty far. So I had positions at the municipality. I then had a level five position. I don’t know whether this means anything to you, but that doesn’t matter. In any case, this was quite a position. This was the highest a non-academic could achieve. Level five. Because the next is already six, but this is already with an academic degree. But up to there, everything that was possible without a degree, I achieved through evening classes and courses and such, I pulled it off, right. And I had this work for forty years. I was satisfied, but that I would have said anything to anyone, not until today.

Actually, that only started with our generation, that the family, that one actually begins to understand the meaning of family. What a family is all about. That we started to understand at all. That took years for me, also for my sister, until we knew at all what family means, what family can give.

After all, we had never known what family is, so we had to first learn all this, build it from scratch. As I said, but I feel sorry for my parents because they were unable to give us more. They themselves got caught in a trap and were themselves pulled inside. Partially justified, partially unjustified, I don’t want to judge, and I cannot judge, and that’s how it is, but they were poor themselves and had nothing at all. They just lived from hand to mouth, nothing great. Nothing was handed to us for free, to be sure. So when I got married, with a handkerchief, that was all I had, didn’t have more. So I couldn’t say to my parents: “Listen, give me a dowry,” or what do I know. Of course, there was no such thing. But as such, they were nice parents, I can’t say anything, they tried to do what they could. That they didn’t succeed, is another story. But one certainly must not put the blame on them, and I will never do that because it never somehow... They wanted to do their best. That they didn’t succeed is a pity. For all of us, right.

And also in my professional life, I never lost a single word about my childhood, that... I was so ashamed, and I am still ashamed today about it because, one cannot say…, although it wasn’t my fault at all, this is something…, and it hurts so much, and often I am lying… And my wife often says: “Stop ruminating again and don’t ruminate.” Then, I often have tears running down. It is unfathomable if you think about it. Last year I had a heart attack, I was at the intensive care unit. There the entire film was running again, it hurt so much, it hurt so much, it was a pure catastrophe, right.