But it was nice too! Or it could have been beautiful. I should have seen it, but due to fate and my inscrutable will (we colluded), the great experience was left out of my life. Not personally, Comrade Kádár only waved to me from the stands on TV.
There stood the Great Man, who had the courage to betray the 1956 revolution, who did not shy away from the execution of hundreds of patriots - or even completely innocent people - and who bravely faced the broad masses of the people. From the height of the stands.
Poor comrade Kádár! Now think what he did not do for his own proletarian power! For example, he waved for hours. Have you ever tried it, how exhausting is it? He stands at the feet of both proletarians and just waves, just waves - his hands must have hurt a lot that night. But we had to wave, since it was May 1st, Labor Day - although many people claim afterwards that the hell he didn't want to celebrate work. But this is not true, because the working class diligently built socialism. And there was a bright future in front of them that was getting more and more obscure!
I should have seen Comrade Kádár waving twice. First, as a small child, who was taken to the parade by his grandfather. However, I could not see the workers of the Red Star tractor factory, the happy future was hidden from me by the marching proletarian feet. I only remember the balloon (this also popped up, like the system in 1990), and Bambi, which at the time was the best soft drink made of tar out of the one that existed. (Yes, there was also Utas Üdító, but the Party certainly didn't like it, because the name might remind you of "Külön Utas")
The second time when Comrade Kádár did not wave to me was when I was a high school student. With the Great Holiday approaching, our class teacher decided that we would volunteer to represent our school in the march. In any case, it was customary around that time to appoint volunteers, because no one was clamoring for such prestigious assignments.
Of course, it was not enough that we were selected voluntarily, the participation was also checked. As soon as we lined up in Verseny Street, the inspector arrived with a list of names in hand, and those who were not present later either brought a medical certificate or were kicked out of high school. In the spirit of volunteering. We received a sign each with various inspiring texts, such as "Together on the road to socialism!" or "Long live the unbreakable Soviet-Hungarian friendship!" possibly "Further on the Leninist road!" or "Long Live the Party!" (at that time there was only one, exactly like the Bambi, or later that one mail-green Skoda at the Merkúr settlement, which I could choose from one).
And the spirited march was suspended, but we never knew where it was going. We propped our boards against the walls with due respect and happily marched in the opposite direction to the Sport Bistro for a beer. Afterwards, we justified the intensive consumption of liquid bread by saying that we drank it for the health of Comrade Kádár and the Party. And so - as we also found out afterwards - we missed not only Comrade Kádár's waving, but also the free hot dogs and free lukewarm beer. We didn't mind too much, because the beer was cold in the Bistro, but for a fee.
We only found out afterwards that we could have failed because the signs had to be handed in at the end of the march. Yet the disaster did not happen - because the person who was supposed to take over was also drinking beer in the Sport Bistro. I think I sometimes enthusiastically shout: Long live the first of May!
Author: György Tóth Jr
