Oswald’s kitchen was small, and his living room was not five meters by three. You couldn’t get much more than a bed in there. A factory bed. For that matter, his table and chairs were also provided by his factory. Of course, he didn’t pay much. A rent so low, judged Pavel, that it was symbolic. And he did have a small balcony, with one of Minsk’s finest views. Four stories below and across Kalinina Street were lovely green banks. The Svisloch River, a meandering stream appropriate to a fine park, so nice and tranquil a river it deserved to have swans in it, ran along the bank of Kalinina Street. Thereby, Oswald’s apartment house was elegant, even grand from the exterior; it had high columns on its facade, framing the balconies, and was situated, like Pavel’s apartment, in your very best part of town. It just wasn’t much inside.
7
Parties at the Zigers’
Pavel, as he said, would not go out often that year, but Lee did bring him over to meet some Argentinians that he knew named Ziger.
Pavel enjoyed visiting their apartment. The Zigers treated you with coffee, and would offer a glass of wine in a most gracious manner. On a tray. They did not behave like Russians. The atmosphere was relaxed. Besides mother and father, there were two daughters and their boyfriends and other young people. A joyful and interesting atmosphere, although the first time that Pavel tasted table wine at the Zigers’ it was so dry that every Russian there was twisting his mouth. In Minsk, most wine was sweet.
Later that summer, Ziger’s daughters used to sunbathe in their bikinis on the balcony of their apartment, which shocked their neighbors. It was a scandal throughout the entire building. The Zigers were not only foreign but Jewish, thereby doubly scandalous.
According to Pavel, Lee never went out seriously with either of the daughters, but then, the Ziger girls weren’t his type. Anita was too big, too wide-boned, and the older Ziger daughter, who might have been a right match for Lee, was already married. Eleanora was her name. In Pavel’s opinion, Lee liked girls who were microminiature, full of air and grace. Later, there would be Ella, then Marina, both thin and delicate, elegant girls.
For a time at the Zigers’ parties, Lee seemed to have some interest in Albina, a big girl, always around the Zigers, but then Pavel recalled that when they were all young, back in 1960, Albina was not huge as she is now, nor was her hair colored to its present wild-orange; no, she was tall and slender and blond, with a powerful young bosom, so she was attractive to many.
Now, Albina and her family had had a hard time in the war and were poor afterward, with many hardships, but by the late Fifties life had bettered itself a little, and Albina was working in Minsk’s Central Post Office, which is where she met Anita Ziger. Young people, said Albina, always mocked Anita for her way of dressing. She wore high-heeled shoes and slacks, and being Argentinian, Anita looked like she could do a tango, which she could.
Albina had met Don Alejandro Ziger and his wife first, then Anita, through her post office. These Zigers received parcels from Argentina, and Albina was there to help them process such items through postal customs, postal declarations, other bureaucratic procedures. She must have done it well, because the Zigers invited her to visit them and gave Albina their address, even said, Come visit this Sunday. But Albina didn’t go. She didn’t have enough money to buy them a proper gift. In Russia, you come with something when you are invited, but she was too embarrassed to buy a cheap present. So she didn’t go.
When Anita came again to the post office, she invited Albina to see a movie. They went to a German film, just two of them alone, and Albina was uncomfortable because Anita was much better dressed than herself, yet Anita was also a merry person, with jokes, lots of jokes. Afterward, she invited Albina to her parents’ apartment, and it was nothing unusual. Like a common apartment that everybody had, one room. At that time, it was still very difficult with housing. So, there was one bed in the only room, and one in the hall, and that’s where Anita slept, in Ziger’s hallway. Nothing special. Ziger’s second daughter, Eleanora, didn’t live with them at that time. She was married and stayed in a town, Petrovsk, where, Albina thinks, her husband’s relatives treated her badly. So, Don Alejandro managed to get a two-room apartment and visited Petrovsk and took Eleanora back with him. She never returned to her husband. She got her divorce while remaining in Minsk, a slender good-looking woman with a nice voice.
This new apartment was decorated differently from Russian apartments. “Latino-American interior,” said Albina. “Their bed was big. They brought such a bed from South America, because Russians don’t produce big beds for people. Very beautiful bed.” At that time, there was a shortage of everything, and these Zigers were very practical people. They also brought their mattress from Latin America, and it, too, was beautiful, with bright threads and embroidered roses, other flowers, everything. They also knitted sweaters, and sold them to Russians they knew. They had come with very big trunks made of natural leather, and they cut up those trunks and sold pieces of leather to shoemakers. Don Alejandro was a man of resources.
In their apartment was a brown piano, and Anita could play everything—“Moonlight Sonata,” “Barcarole,” Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky, and a lot of Latino-American melodies, tangos included. Also, the Zigers had a combination radio set with gramophone. This was Albina’s first time in a home that had so much music, records, life, vitality, such fun. Albina decided there was another person in her, some other human being inside who was curious about the world outside, and she decided she would like to travel and communicate with people.
These Zigers had friends who were also immigrants from Argentina, and at parties they would go into recollections of fine shops in Buenos Aires and lovely streets they used to walk on. How they missed their country! Since Anita Ziger went to a musical college in Minsk and would bring friends from there, the family’s parties were always musical and filled with such interesting people. One of them turned out to be Lee Harvey Oswald, whom everybody called Alik. Don Alejandro had invited Alik over from that radio factory where they both worked, and Albina got to like this Alik more and more. He was alone, he was a young man, and by March he had a nice apartment. When he took her to see it, she was even a little bit upset, because she herself never had anything like that in her life. So, he had a lot to feel spoiled about, and maybe that was why, at his job, he was never enthusiastic. But then he did tell her once, “All those girls like me. When I cross the yard, they are all sitting around, saying, ‘Alik, Alik.’”
Albina wouldn’t admit whether it was more difficult to have said no to him than to other men, but she certainly could admit that Alik had not liked being refused. When she did say no to him in his apartment, he had clicked his fingers and said, “Dammit!” In English. “Dammit!” She knew that word. It was not anger he expressed so much as being upset. He touched her and said, “Oh, stupid, you don’t know your happiness,” which is a Russian expression—“Stupid, you don’t know what happiness is.”
Maybe she didn’t, because she certainly lost him later. And not even to women. She felt as if she lost him to a man. Not as in a romance, but because this man could offer him other parties, other people. Or maybe it was because he could speak English so well.
It was her friend Ernst Titovets—if he was a friend. She had gone to high school with Ernst, who was also called Erich, and it was through her, Albina, that Erich met Alik. That was because she had known Titovets since he was fifteen, and sometimes in school they would even share desks together.
She had always thought Erich was a little strange, and nothing about him was fun, but he was all right. Some students used to speak of him as manerniy—full of mannerisms. So, nobody liked him much, but then he always wanted to show people he was better. And he certainly was interested in English. Of course, everyone should know such a language, because half of the world spoke it. To be an intelligent person with a cultural background you had to be able to speak at least one other foreign language, but Titovets always wanted to impress people that he was not avera
ge, and so he always did things by himself. He didn’t chase young women; he was mostly involved in his hobbies; he played chess, he was interested in music, and he was going to medical school about the time Albina introduced Erich Titovets to Alik. In those years, when the Zigers were a very bright part of her life, Albina would feel sorry that she had made such an introduction, because Alik used to come to their house often and he spent a lot of time with her, but now Ernst had captured him, and took him to other places. Finally, one year later, Ernst even brought him to a place where Alik met his future wife, and then Albina’s love was over forever, vanished.
She remembers right after she met Alik in January, she was walking with Anita and other Argentinian friends and then, not far from Victory Square, they suddenly ran into Erich. He came up to her and said, “Hi, what are you doing, how is your life, who are these people?” That was because he could hear these Argentinians speaking a foreign language, Spanish, and Albina said she didn’t speak it but just listened, and then he said, “Oh, who’s that person? It’s an American, isn’t it? Can you introduce me to him?” She said, “Why do you want that?” And he said, “You know I’m very much interested in some practice for English. My English teacher, I go to him and ask questions, but it isn’t always convenient for him.” So she said, “Excuse me, I have to ask other people first if they want to be introduced. I don’t feel like I could do it here in front of everybody just like that.”
So then Anita, very happy, so open, had to say, “Who is this young man?” And Albina said, “A man who’s going to be a doctor wants me to introduce . . .”
Anita said, “Okay, invite him to one of our parties and we’ll dance and we’ll talk.” They were without fear at the Zigers’ home. Maybe that’s why later they had such a problem getting an exit visa back to Argentina. They always said what they thought. And sometimes they spoke badly about Soviet life.
May 1
May Day came as my first holiday. All factories, etc., closed. Spectacular military parade. All workers paraded past reviewing stand waving flags and pictures of Mr. K., etc. I followed the American custom of marking holiday by sleeping in in the morning. At night I visit with the Zigers’ daughters at a party thrown by them [and] about forty people came, many of Argentine origin. We dance, play around, and drink until 2 A.M. when party breaks up. Eleanora Ziger, oldest daughter, 26, formerly married, now divorced, a talented singer. Anita Ziger, 20, very gay, not so attractive, but we hit it off. Her boyfriend Alfred is a Hungarian chap, silent, brooding, not at all like Anita. Ziger advised me to go back to USA. It’s the first voice of opposition I have heard. I respect Ziger, he has seen the world. He says many things, and relates many things I do not know about the USSR. I begin to feel uneasy inside, it’s true!
FROM KGB OBSERVATION
PERFORMED FROM 07:00 ON MAY 1, 1960, TILL 01:50 ON MAY 2, 1960
At 10:00 Lee Harvey came out of house N4 on Kalinina Street, came to Pobedy Square where he spent 25 minutes looking at passing parade. After this he went to Kalinina Street and began walking up and down embankment of Svisloch River. Returned home by 11:00.
From 11:00 to 13:00 he came out onto balcony of his apartment more than once. At 13:35 Lee Harvey left his house, got on trolley bus N2 at Pobedy Square, went to Central Square, was last to get off bus, went down Engelsa, Marksa and Lenina Streets to bakery store on Prospekt Stalina.
There he bought 200 gr. of vanilla cookies, then went to café
At 16:50 Lee Harvey left his house and came to house N14 on Krasnaya Street. (Residence of immigrant from Argentina—Ziger.)
At 1:40 Lee Harvey together with other men and women, among whom there were daughters of Ziger, came home. Observation was stopped at this point till morning.
8
In Love with Ella
Pavel had begun to notice that Lee and a girl named Ella Germann would spend time together at Horizon. Lee was often at her worktable, and many times they were together at lunch. Lee never spoke about his friendship with Ella, but then, Lee was not one to go out of his way to show feelings. For that matter, he wouldn’t even say he had been to bed with a girl. There was one, for example, huge as a horse, Magda. She was easy to get. Some people said her husband made her that way. When men were on the late shift, some would even have a dispute whose turn it was to have a poke. She weighed 120 kilograms—264 pounds. She was called Our Horse, Our Refrigerator.
Pavel doesn’t think Lee did anything with Magda, but he could tell you that Oswald wasn’t dropping on his knees in front of Ella, either. Still, when two people get together five times a week, that becomes suspicious. Pavel thought Ella was interesting in her way, but she was Jewish. Pavel wanted to explain that he was not an anti-Semite, it was just that she, personally, was not his type.
EXTRA PAGE (not included in formal diary)1
June.
Ella Germann—a silky black-haired Jewish beauty with fine dark eyes, skin as white as snow, a beautiful smile and good but unpredictable nature. Her only fault was that at 24 she was still a virgin due entirely to her own desire. I met her when she came to work at my factory. I noticed her and perhaps fell in love with her the first moment I saw her.
Now, at fifty-five, Ella is soft-spoken and very careful in her choice of words. She has a high crown of dark hair turning gray, and delicate aquiline features.
She would say that her childhood is not of interest, because she had been very timid as a child. She always did as she was told to do and stayed at home a lot. And even when she was an adolescent, her friends told her that she consisted of nothing but complexes. So, it might be, she suggested, that she was of no interest to the interviewers’ project.
Her recollection is that she was four years old when the war started. She was living in Mogilev, a small place, with her grandparents. The first time their town was bombed she was so frightened that all memories from that time are lost. Her grandmother, however, told Ella what happened.
This grandmother was very strong. At her job she cut huge pieces of meat from cattle, and the child was in awe of her strength. When German planes started to bomb overhead, Ella just “jumped into her,” as it was put, and hugged her neck and stayed there through an entire day. Nobody could remove Ella. It was as if the grandmother had to “wear” her all day long. Other children cried, other children talked, but Ella was quiet. Some parents even remarked, “Look! The child doesn’t express emotion.” They thought Ella was strong, but she realizes now she had a great shock.
Ella’s family happened to be Jewish, but she knew nothing about it. Her grandmother was born in a very religious family and told her about a talis and a yarmulke, but she had never seen either.
Unlike her grandmother, who took care of her, Ella’s mother had her own life. She was single at that time, since Ella’s father was dead, and she wanted to arrange her life in a proper way; she was a very good singer but unable to make her career. Ella’s mother would work all day at other jobs and then at night would often be out with her girlfriend at a movie or going to one club or another; in fact, she was always busy and did not pay a great deal of attention to her children. She was very pretty and full of presence, yet she did not become the singer and actress everyone expected. Finally, in order to make a living, she had to work in a chorus, and such difficulties went on through Ella’s childhood.
At one point, she remembers, her mother was fired from a job and stayed home and wept for several days. She had two children to support, and two parents. Ella’s grandfather was ill, but he used to go and buy something from somebody for one price, then move to a marketplace and try to sell it for more.
Of course, children are children, Ella would say, and they really cannot accept too many tragic events. While
now she can see it was a miserable life, at that time she never felt unhappy. In her school, other children were no richer, all were equal, and she had friends and a lot of happy moments. They sang and had games. Besides, theatre was always present in their family. They knew some actors and actresses, and discussed their performances, and there was never a year in Ella’s life when she did not go to theatre. Her mother remained mysterious, however. Even when Ella was sixteen or seventeen, she did not know her mother’s private life. Since her mother was beautiful, however, and very emotional and romantic, she kept waiting for someone who would be up to her standards, “the prince in her life.” Maybe that was why she never married again. Or was it that when men came to visit, they saw two children plus two grandparents in one room, and it frightened them out of such a desire.
As Ella grew up, she liked to dance waltzes, but then her favorite soon became the fox-trot. She did hear of this American band leader, Glenn Miller, and then saw Mr. Miller and his orchestra in a film called, in Russia, Serenade of Sunny Valley (which might also translate into Sun Valley Serenade). She remembers that one U.S. film she liked was Twelve Angry Men, because she was able to compare the jury systems in both countries. After that, she no longer trusted what she was being told about America—that rich people were only a small group and most people were poor. She remembers that people in those days would whisper that even the unemployed in America had a level of life equal to Russians who were working. On the other hand, she did believe that the United States government could start a war.
Of course, she was not really interested in technology or politics. When she and her girlfriend went to see a movie, such a program would usually start with ten minutes of news showing Soviet achievements in agriculture and industry, then they would see pictures of demonstrations and unemployment in capitalist countries. She and her girlfriend would usually come in one quarter of an hour late, which was when the real movie would begin.
Oswald's Tale: An American Mystery Page 12