I just turned three years old in October 1956, and obviously people don't remember much about what happened at that time. A few moments remained in me.
After we lived in Márvány utca, and our kitchen window looked at the conductor of the Déli pályaudvar, I put my little chair on the hokedli with a child's head, from where I could watch for a long time how the wagons were pushed to and fro, how the uncles waved their flags to jump down and connect the trains. , then they wave again and jump onto the moving assembly. This place of mine is only interesting because - I don't remember the exact day - but one morning my father woke me up, my mother and brother woke me up, my father poured a hot tea and left me in the kitchen.
Without suspecting anything, I sat up at my usual viewing spot, sipped my tea and waited for the wagons to move. Instead, next to the high retaining wall of the rails and in the small street running between the building - it was called Kuny Domokos Street - I noticed a rumble, the window was shaking, and as I looked down, tanks were marching. Then my father picked me up and we ran to the basement.
Since the building had a circular corridor, at some point in the morning everyone ventured out into the inner courtyard, and the men opened the door of the house a crack and peeked out from behind each other. In the afternoon, everyone ventured back to their apartments when they suddenly rang the bell. There was silence, my father carefully opened the door, and then my godfather jumped in with a larger bag. This must have remained in my memory because he pulled out a little pig from the bag, I don't know whether it was alive or not, but I do know that they put my little metal tub in the tub, put the pig in it and shaved it there.
It didn't matter the next day or the third day, the sun was shining beautifully and in the morning my father, brother and I set off towards Koszciuszkó Tádé utca, where there was a small milk shop on the corner. We had almost reached the corner when a tank turned into Márvány Street. I just squeezed my father's hand, and my brother jumped into the doorway of the building. The tank stopped there for many minutes, as we also stood frozen, and then we went into the store, but I don't remember how we got this milk or something else.
50 years have passed.
At that time, I was working on Bródy Sándor Street, one of the main scenes of the 1956 events. The events of 2006 are well known, they are vivid in many people's minds, and there is no need to recall them. I spent most of those days in the complex of buildings numbered 5-7. A bunch of policemen came and went in the yard, it was a kind of shelter for them. Due to the chilling sight, people did not like to go through the courtyard, preferring to use a detour, using the corridors connecting the buildings. Strict measures were ordered, there were parts of the building where even those who previously had permission could not go. All this was only compounded by the introduction of martial law, as the windows of the lower floors of the buildings were boarded up. You saw this in World War movies, it was all creepy, as were quite a few expressions that agreed with the measures. The person's stomach clenched and I have been thinking ever since how it is that someone was able to order such actions because of their desire for power, not to mention the police leaders who gave orders without thinking.
15 years have passed.
After that, the only question is, if the great DK democrat doesn't win next year, what kind of coup attempt will he make up his mind about, how will he try to cause confusion. It is even possible that he is already negotiating with an Islamic terrorist organization about where and how to detonate.
The fantasy - if it can be a reality - don't be fooled, let's take this as a joke for the time being, although as we know, jokes have a basis.
Even in the 1950s, people whispered the following joke:
Rákosi and Stalin were driving on the quay in Budapest when Rákosi turned to Stalin.
Comrade Stalin! What else can I do to make my people happier?
When the driver said back:
Comrade Rákosi, shall I drive to the Danube?
Ferenc doesn't drive with a driver yet, but over time Rákosi also disappeared.
