Today’s guest post is by Jim in Clarks Grove.
Vas and his mother, Anna, are friends of mine in Clarks Grove who lived in Czechoslovakia when it was a satellite state of the Soviet Union. I was wondering how the two of them wound up here in Minnesota, so I decided to ask. It turns out to be a harrowing story of a long, tense journey down a winding path. Ultimately, it was bravery, determination and luck that brought them to the United States.
Because he refused to join the Communist Party, good jobs were not available to Vas and his travel was restricted. In his job as a bus driver, Vas was able to gather information from passengers about ways to get out of Czechoslovakia through the Iron Curtain. In 1982 Vas, his mother, his brother, his aunt, and a friend departed by car from Czechoslovakia and with great difficulty made their way to Italy, and the the USA. Here’s how it happened.
Vas and his party were able to enter Hungry by car, but were prevented from passing from Hungary into Austria because they lacked the visa needed to do this. While driving along the border between Hungary and Austria, they were stopped by police. Vas was afraid the police would put them under arrest and send them back to Czechoslovakia where they would be put in prison. The police held Vas for several hours and then released him when he told them that he was lost and was not looking for a way to cross into Austria.
Using a passport that allowed for travel within the Soviet Union, Vas traveled into Romania and had good luck exiting from the Romania into Yugoslavia. At first the custom officer would not let Vas into Yugoslavia because he didn’t have the visa needed to make this crossing. Vas told the custom officer that he was on his way to another Soviet bloc country, Bulgaria, and the officer finally decided to let him through. Vas believes that the custom officer did him a favor because he thinks that the officer knew he really was trying to leave the Soviet Union and was not going to Bulgaria.
When Vas and his party attempted to cross into Italy from Yugoslavia, the Italian customs officers turned them back because they didn’t have a visa. They finally made it into Italy by leaving their car behind, crossing the border on foot, and walking all night to the nearest Italian town.
The police in Italy gave them a motel room, bought them a meal, and then put them on a train that took them to a camp for immigrants. A relative in Germany was only willing to help Vas’ aunt, so Vas, his mother, and his brother had to spend 11 months living under bad conditions in the camp for immigrants. Their stay in the camp ended when they were put on a list for immigration to the United States and found someone to sponsor their trip from Italy to the United States.
When have you persevered through sheer determination?
Trail Baboon 
Rise and Shine Baboons!
I am slow to wake up on this rainy day.
Stories like this are humbling–my life seems pretty easy compared to this kind of effort to stay alive or free. So any story I tell does not hold this kind of danger. That said, the last several years have required sheer determination. Getting my mother’s house sorted, her belongings given to those who wanted or needed them, then cleared away so it could be sold in April, 2009 was difficult, especially from 235 miles away. However, the house sold in 4 hours in the Great Recession. Then that was scarcely done and my office-mate/ sort of business partner imploded her life and left my business. Getting through that required a lot of determination and perseverance. I wanted to run away! But it all ended April 1 this year. Yippee.
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so watchta re you doing in boring old 2011?
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nuttin’
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Cleaning out Mom’s house is quite a job. I just completed it from 600 miles away. Lots of travel back and forth. Next time I go, I can just enjoy spending time with Mom in assisted living and not have to work on house stuff anymore. Yippee!
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in the late 80’s my dad and i were in the sales rep busness. we sold fertilizer and sprinklers and lawn stuff to the hardware chans and bix boxes in the minnesota north and south dakota and wisconsin area. we also sold paint tproducts and hardware some small electronics automotive sporting goods and other stuff but they were all kind of inter related. a company that made sprinklers also made battery chargers and paintsprayers so we found ourselves in to visit those buyers and it made sense to pick up lines to compliment the one you were going in there with. the fertilizer company made sidewalk deier and that was often times in automotive but in grocery it was in produce, the way it aligned i had 20 or 30 accounts with 5 to 10 buyers at each and the phone and lunch schedules were hot and heavy. the fertilizer company was located in viroqua wisconsin in the lacrosse corner of the state which made it perfect freight wise for shipping minnesota and wisconsin (fertilizer is very freight sensitive even more so back then) they were very pleased with our performance and the sales manager was a big nice home town boy who played football and almost made the vikings (last cut) and played a year in the cfl for people who had the talent and couldn’t quite get it out of their systems when their options were not picked up by the coach at the next level. he did that for a year and came back home not with his tail between his legs but not crowing with confidence. nice guy good story teller talk sports trivia like an expertad about a 5 as a sales manager. his pencil scratchings to figure out cost and quote prices in fornt of big customers was at times embarrassing but the aw shucks attitude seemed to work pretty well. he did what we asked and we had 90% of the business in the area. the owner of the fertilizer company was less than impressed with the aw shucks stuff and even though the results were stellar the local boy got fired and the new lincoln town car driving cocky big city salesman who was able to envision taking over the world with no problem was plugged in in his place. we took him around the territory and showed him how perfectly we had the territory set up and he was impressed. he asked us to do this circut one more time a month later and once he had his second introduction to all the key customers he sent out the pink slip saying thanks but he could take it from here. he need a base to justify the cost of his town car and we had screwed up by not leaving any addition business to pick so all he could do was take ours. while all of this was going on our sprinkler company which was always a payton place of business ethics changed owners and the same thing happened there within two weeks of the fertilizer companys news. those two companies comprised 80% of our income. we thought the 40% hit form the fertilizer was awful well the second one was one of those kind of slow motion been socked in the stomach revelations where you can’t believe the truth is in fornt of you because you can’t imagine the consequences they must lead to. i imagine the guys who look down to see their leg jsut got blown off in the war must go through something much worse but thats what it reminds me of. it took three years one to regroup and start over one to get it rolling and one to payback the two years of subprofitable years to get back on track again. it happened one more time after that and then it bacame obvious that working for someone else was a a mine field so i started my company putting my name on stuff and
selling it to those same customers. if the factory and have a issue now i just go to a different factory and put my name on a similar roduct form a different company. fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. hard work and determination goes pretty far but if yu are in a place where you are not the master of your own destiny it can all be for naught. the only problem with being the master of your own destiny is that the jerk who is in charge is who you are stuck with. as frustrating as it is there are not many other options.
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Tim, from my limited attempts at selling things, I have found this is work that requires perseverence even when it is going well. I’m sure sticking to it when it goes bad is very dificult.
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thanks jim but in reality when its bad there is no other choice
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Too many stories like that in business.My partner and I once spent three days with a couple of volunteer retired businessmen. At the end they told us that in all partnerships one will screw the other. Then one of them looked at me and said that I would be the one screwed, which came true, but by then there was little worth it.
Hamlin Garland once wrote a story with this theme called Under the Lion’s Paw.
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This new reply box very often drops my paragraphs.
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Good morning to all:
I was especially interested in hearing about how Vas escaped from Czechoslovackia because I had done some volunteer work in a country that was formerly behind the Iron Curtain. When I was in Bulgaria my ability to hang in there was tested when I was left in a village where no one spoke English for a couple of days. I decided I could trust the village people to help me and they did. I learned later that one of them had been separated from his group that was working in Cuba and spent many days there among people who didn’t speak any language that he knew.
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i met someone in a peace corp like arrangement who said she preferred to work on a level of what is left of communication when language is not part of it. th interactions are more real and heartfelt. sometimes words are vehicles but barriers at the same time
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Last night after the Twins game a less than thoughtful sportscaster interviewed Alexi Castilla, who has struggled to learn English, as anyone paying any attention to the team knows. He asked Alexi a two-part rambling 35 word question. Alexi’s answer showed he sort of understood one part of the question. So the sportscaster followed that up with any even more rambling longer question. Alexi just looked into the camera with embarrassment.
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In the summer of 1976 my (then) wife and I were settled into our first home. We both had jobs. Amazingly enough, neither of us was getting any younger that summer, and there was concern among doctors about Kathe having a child at her advanced age. In short, it was time to start a family. I had read enough to know that this is a little more complicated than calling out for a pizza. We knew couples who had thrashed away at it for years without anybody getting knocked up.
So, with full awareness of the difficulties, we dropped birth control and set about making a baby. We started off scientifically, using a thermometer. You know what I mean.
Memory is surely wrong, but I think we had had three, four or five “dates” before an egg met a sperm she adored. “Hey, swimmer, I’m the one you been lookin’ for! Come to mama and we’ll have fun!”
I was stunned. “What?” That’s IT?” I had in mind a summer full of dedicated effort and maybe a little exhaustion.
And this is what my life has been like most of the time. Determination and perseverance? Talking my way past border guards, risking prison or worse? Well, not exactly. In my life, the border guards have generally winked and said, “Go on, fella. I’d do the same if I could.” I’d like to think I will persevere if the need arises, but so far it hasn’t. I’ve generally been blessed.
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I got distracted, JIm. That’s a really nice story. I sure admire Vas and all those who faced his challenges.
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oh, I don’t know–the winter of 2010/11 probably qualifies, and I will respectfully disagree with Clyde on the “doesn’t count if you have no choice” idea. I’ve known several people with major obstacles (health or otherwise) who have made the choice to just give up. Maintaining your independence and personal responsibility in the face of adversity is not for sissies.
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forgot to say great story jim
those eastern bloc countries are a little scary today i and only imagine 1986 and trying to get out of there. my daughter is marrying a cosovo guy (former yugoslavia) and the level of acceptance in italy for the eastern block refugees is marginal. like our mexicans and somalis. no one realizes how difficult it must be to come to a place so foreign and have the whole world looking down on your people as squatters. it is a lesson we should have learned by now but are still in process on. wonder how bushs 20 foot tall chain link fence from west to east on the mexican border is doing. how stupid!!!
america is so much better for these stories and these people who inspire us with working so hard to get what we take for granted. this old flag burning hippy sees things through the same eyes but maybe a little different lens on the realities vs the ideals.
http://www.kfai.org/station/archives/rss/30217
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Living with significant pain 100% of the time and severe pain 20% of the time is something.
It isn’t determination; it isn’t resignation. Not sure what to call it. It does not match up to Jim’s wonderful story. I used to have a girlfriend at U of Chi named Gisela who was from East Berlin by way of St. Paul. They crawled through tunnels, etc. The father switched from professor to janitor. But all four brilliant children went on to great success here. Such folks are the best to explain freedom and opportunity and the pursuit of happiness.
Chronic pain does not take courage like theirs because theirs was a choice.
Chronic pain is a solo battle, because it drives a person inward and away from others and because people do not understand that chronic pain is not like pain but rather a whole different universe, in which there is no West Berlin at the end of the tunnel. It is also a dull story, tiresome to tell, which I will not again; and it dulls the mind.But it is not like depression, though they are closely related, and that is one saving grace.
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clyde, you are an inspiration, when i see you have come up missing for a coule of days i asume you are hunkering down to suck it up. pain is something you do have a difficult time thinking about when you don’t have it and something you have a hard time focusing on anything other than when you do have it. hang in there with us. its scary to think what kind of productivity you could crank up if the possibility to flow weren’t at battle with the ability to cope. maybe thats what gives you the ability to cut to the chase and not get lengthy like some we all know. whatever it is…thanks for being there there with deep thoughts and wnderful vignettes. get to work on those pastels they are exceptional. do some leaves!
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Thank you.Nice words.
Suddenly off to emergency babysitting in Evan, a few hours earlier than we had planned, so daughter can do a death-bed visit. Rushing off is hared to do with a wife with lupus.
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no one said it was going to be easy but……….have a good one
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I sure hope the daughter knows how lucky she is to have you and Sandy at the ready (your grandchildren are lucky too!)
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Clyde, my Dad had problems with chronic which I saw when he lived near us in his last years. He suffered from some very severe pain when he was in a nursing home where they didn’t keep his pain medication records in order on few occasions. He also had other problems with getting the right medications for his pain as well as for other medical problems. I know you have also had some problems with medications.
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My problem with meds is only that nothing really works except excedrin.
The insensitivity to the pains of nursing home patients is alarming. We were fortunate where my mother ended up in Donnaville, but i took some time to find the right one. In the meantime she lost a leg.
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There are those who look at things the way they are, and ask why… I dream of things that never were, and ask why not?
Robert Kennedy
i don’t know where the kfai link came from. (obviously something i was looking at yesterday) i was trying to finish with an inspriational thought above . one of my favorites
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hey gang, field trip to kfai open house june 18 in nordeast minneapolis?
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Good golly, could any more things come up on my calendar for june 18? I would love to, but already have FOUR things on the calendar that day. Sheesh
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I’m in an art class that day. (5 days long, prepaid. Not even the Baboons can divert me from that). We will need to cook up another field trip. Maybe Dale will give us a tour!
New chair, new desk, no mike (neither Pengra nor electronic mike).
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ot-schools is over for everyone at my house but my wife who has her last day today. graduation for senior tonight with all night party to follow (i am a chaperon parent and blackjack dealer at the gala event) grad pary on sunday noon to 4 with fire pit brats and wine til the moon goes down. if any baboons want to come over for a veggie dog and glass of wine, i’m buying on sunday (real food for carnivores will also be present)
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Hi tim.
Congrats to your senior! All night party here too tonight. We did the Lutheran thing and helped with clean up last year.
Our grad party won’t be until 25th. We’re having a root beer keg. And a sno cone machine. Plus some funky lighting of course…
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What a great story, Jim. One of the downsides of our graduate program was the fact that after the first two years in the PHD program, we could both just reregister each subsequent year for $50. That made it too easy to get involved with other things, like working and having children. It took a great deal of determination for us to finish our degrees and we both did it just as time was running out as far as the university was concerned. It wasn’t easy for both of us to to juggle full time work and children with research and writing, especially since we were living 500 miles from our adviser, but we did it. I sometimes still can’t believe we actually succeeded.
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Ah, but the results. I honor all who fight that battle.
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Thank you!
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Jim – thanks for sharing Vas’ story. As others have already said here this morning, these stories have a humbling affect, reminding me that my problems aren’t all that horrible after all.
My perserverance was getting through the adoption process. Due to a LOT of government policies, adoption is a complicated process: meetings, forms, police reports, fingerprinting, juvenile records, relative recommendations, non-relative recommendations, even more forms. And 16+ years ago, single parent adoption was on the rise but still not commonplace, so that added a few meetings and forms as well. Then getting everything together to travel was a nightmare; I got the notice of my travel date 8 days in advance, with the 4th of July weekend in the middle of that 8 days. Had to secure my Chinese visa, plane flights, hotel room in Hong Kong and, of course, pack. Back in those days, you had to take everything with you (including toilet paper, baby formula, antibiotics, etc.) because you couldn’t count on being able to find these things easily in some parts of China. And the summer of 1995 was horribly hot, not just here, but in China as well. Of course, I would do it all over again, even if I knew it would be twice as hard. My perserverance won me a treasure!
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I’ve known several couples who have done the adoption abroad route and it was no picnic-doing it by yourself-wow! I also know it probably was not a cake-walk once you got home, either. Well done!
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My daughter- in- law was adopted from Calcutta, India by a single mom from Minnesota. She is a real blessing and we are so grateful that her mom hung in there and made her adoption a reality.
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Somehow finicky directors and floors that take twice as long as anticipated to get painted (for a set), finishing a master’s thesis and 2 days of labor seem like small potatoes compared to escaping Communist Europe. As one friend of mine has said, these are first-world problems, girlie. Like Steve, I feel like I’ve had a pretty cushy life – not living in the lap of luxury (and 2+ years of having one of the two adults in our household unemployed has been no walk in the park), but not living a life of deprivation, fear, pain or want, either. I may not always like my elected officials, but they can be voted out of office without the need for bloodshed. I won’t grumble about my rising property taxes because I am glad that they pay for a good school for my daughter, lovely green spaces, and police officers, fire, and EMT staff to keep me safe. I may not like what gets aid on select TV and radio stations or in some newspaper columns or even closer to home, but i am grateful to live in a country where it is not criminal to voice an opinion. I just hope my state will show its true colors and roots and keep discrimination out of our constitution – but that is part of the ugly mess of living in a democracy, too, I guess.
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Morning–
Thanks for the story Jim, Amazing to hear stories like that and it does make me realize how easy we have it.
As Anna said, I have done a few sets that only got finished through sheer determination. (And a lack of sleep). And I’ve been called in at the last moment on a few shows by a director determined to ‘save’ it. Sometimes that works…
My wife did online schooling in order to finish her 4 year degree. Working full time, two kids and me, did a couple plays at the same time. Throw in some vacations, too. But she was dedicated. Got straight ‘A’s and finished Summa cum laude.
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Well done!!!!
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Vas is here. He has seen your comments and appreciates them. He says that the story is what happen, but only a short version and a lot of other things could be added. He can answer question about what happen during the escape and after he arrived in this country. When asked if he wants to go back to his country, he says no,no,no!
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Thanks to you and to Vas for sharing this story. I can only imagine the difficulties of not being a party member when that status made such a difference in so many parts of your life and world. Wondering how you keep your hopes alive for a new beginning when you are in an immigration camp for so long…and how did he wind up in Southern MN?…My understanding of life under the Soviet Union in Czechoslovakia is mostly based on the writings of Vaclav Havel, and that is pretty harrowing…
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Anna, Vas is short for Vaclav and Vas is proud thaty he shares a first name with Vaclav Havel. I would like to write at least two more stories about Vas, one about his stay in Italy and the other about getting started in our country. I know that under the Russians, no one was allowed to say anything againest the government and they were locked up in prison if they were caught doing this.
When he was just a teenager, Vas was caught in East Germany where he hoped escape to West Germany. He had some good luck getting off lightly at that time and only spent a little time in prison in East Germany. Vas has been back to Czechoslovakia after the Iron Curtain came down and was a little frightened that he might have trouble, but was greeted warmly by Czech custom officers.
When I see Vas tomorrow I will get his reaction to your comments, Anna.
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To show you what that part of the world was/is like: my “Russian” wife is really Czech. Both parents were from there as were their ancestors but both were Orthodox. One grew up speaking German and the other both Czech and Russian. They left there before the mess of World War I, in the normal way to come to America.
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Oops. That should be grandparents, not her parents.
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That should be her grandparents.
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Yo, Vas! Thanks for loaning Jim and us Baboons your story.
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Vas is not around right now. Jacque, I will pass on your greeting to him tomorrow and any other messages any one might have for him.
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Great story, Jim. I really have nothing to complain about. I may have persevered through some trying times, but nothing like what Vas and his family survived. When I read a story like that, I feel guilty for ever having complained about anything. Thanks for the story. It was very humbling.
Join the conversation here on the Trail any time you feel like it, Vas!
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When I first moved to Philadelphia (1979) we worked with a refugee family from Vietnam. There was a father, mother and 6 adult / teenage children. They sold all of their property and valuables to survive a long boat ride and made it to a refugee camp and eventually to the US. The oldest son was married and I helped the wife when she was in labor giving birth to their first child. They were amazingly resourceful, all living in a Philly row house (a la Rocky) and pooled all of their resources. The father had been a wealthy hog farmer with many servants in Vietnam. I don’t quite remember how they managed in that tiny house, but each child graduated from Drexel University, most of them with degrees in Engineering. They learned English well enough to master Calculus and Physics. Amazing. The last I heard the oldest son, with his wife and two children, moved to Virginia and works for the United States government. They were most grateful people.
Hats off to Vas, his family, and all people who face such obstacles for freedom.
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I had a student in AP English whoe family escape from Viet Nam was long and harrowing. He did not start English until he was 13 and took AP English at age 19. He refused to allow me to give him any leeway.
A friend who taught social studies had a very quiet Vietnamese girl who did not speak English well tell her escape story in his class, for which he had to invent a relevant reason. Before the talk she always ate alone in the lunchroom. After the talk we noticed a group of girls included her at their table.
Her story was amazing. Being shot at. Starvation on an overloaded boat. Raped by pirates. Raped in a camp. Finally getting here without the rest of her family. A three year story. All of which she told simply in weak English without emotion.
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Great story, Jim. Yep – we have our share of problems here, but in comparison, ain’t we privileged??
When I was a kid, sheer determination is what finally got me on the grownup roller coaster. Our family used to stay at a resort just up the hill from the amusement park at Lake Okoboji – it was my dad’s reward to us for getting the beans walked. The white clickety clackety coaster with the sounds of its riders’ screams was a constant presence. My siblings all rode it, even my little sister! They’d try to talk me into it and I’d say, “Okay, I’m gonna do it,” then at the last second I’d chicken out and run back to my mom and dad. Finally one afternoon towards the end of our stay, without telling anyone, I walked out of the cabin, down the hill, and bought a ticket and rode that sucker. ALL BY MYSELF! I shut my eyes and held on for dear life, and from that day on I’ve loved riding roller coasters.
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I bought my house long before the days when banks looked with great skepticism at people applying for mortgages. I chose a house that cost about two and a half times my annual income, which was considered a good rule of thumb at the time, and I had prequalified with a bank for that amount. I had a down payment plus some extra funds in savings to do some fixing up, since the house needed a lot of cosmetic work. I thought I was being reasonably cautious, but the bank told me a single woman shouldn’t be buying a house that needed fixing up and balked at approving the loan. Eventually the bank came up with a list of things that they wanted fixed or replaced, and I had to put funds in an escrow account, to be released when the list was completed. Then since I needed a down payment for the contractor, and my money was in the escrow account, I had to take out another loan, secured by my car, to get the work started.
Over the years I’ve taken out additional loans and made more improvements. The house is worth about four times what I paid for it (a few years ago it was five times what I paid for it, but c’est la vie).
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