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Prose


SUMARICE, KRAGUJEVAC IN MY MEMORY

Simo Jelača
detail from: KRK Art dizajn


SUMARICE, KRAGUJEVAC, IN MY MEMORY


Dr. Simo Jelača

The Foresters of Kragujevac remain in my unforgettable memories, as far back as 1956. That year's spring and May days were sunny and warm, excellent for spending time in nature. We, high school students, members of the Physical Education Society "Partizan" from Novi Sad, practiced exercises and competitive gymnastics disciplines every day for the Slet Championship of the Republic of Serbia. According to current memories, it could have been closer to the end of May.
A sunny day saw us off from Novi Sad, but rain greeted us in Kragujevac. All the participants of the competition, from all over Serbia, were accommodated in tents in Šumarice. There were, according to a free estimate, maybe around 2000. The rain, which was "pouring like from a cable", made it difficult for us to move, we were all treading on the mud, barefoot. Already on the second day, the grass between the trees was completely trampled and "knee-deep mud" was created. We all stomped through the mud with our trouser legs twisted. That's how it lasted for two days, while we all got oriented and got all the necessary instructions and the competition schedule. We ate mostly canned food, and unfortunately, many participants simply threw the empty cans into the mud.
A few hours before the start of the competition, the rain stopped, and the sun appeared between the brown clouds. I walked towards the main tent for some reason, barefoot as usual, and I stepped on an open can, which buried itself in the heel of my right foot. I took it out, but the blood came out, so I limped to the tent. They accepted me there, washed my feet immediately, and left my shoes in my tent. Someone brought her, they bandaged me temporarily, and immediately transported me to the city ambulance. There, my leg was treated professionally, and I was taken back by car to my company, which had already arrived for the examination.
When our leadership saw me, they decided that I could not participate in any discipline of the competition, so they put me at the head of the landing column, as the flag bearer. I could handle the pain quite well, but I was limping, avoiding leaning on my injured heel. And the columns of participants started, I was at the head of everyone, holding the flag on my right shoulder, we walked in step and almost everyone sang. I was accompanied by two other participants, one on each side, and masses of citizens stood along all the streets where we passed.
Approaching the city stadium, suddenly a woman ran in front of us, arms wide open and crying. We stopped, and she knelt down in front of me and with sobs, hugged me and kissed me, big tears were flowing down her cheeks, and she didn't stop crying, she hugged me and called me "My son". Her tears wet my face, and I hugged her back. We are all confused, we stand still, the entire column has stopped, and those further behind us cannot see what is happening. Only after a few minutes, two militiamen came, lifted the woman, gently taking her hands under her shoulders, and removed her in front of the column. We received the command to move, and the column started. I only managed to look back and wave at that woman with my left hand, sending her a kiss on the lips.
Entering the stadium, the columns were divided, each from its city, and lined up on the stadium field, according to a predetermined schedule. I then left the column, put down the flag where I was directed, and sat on the tribune, as an observer of the landing. I applauded all the participants, especially my fellow New Sadians.
When the landing was over, and the gymnastics competitions began, I was still sitting on the stand, constantly thinking about that woman with whom, quite unexpectedly, I experienced an event to remember for a long time. And when we arrived in Šumarice in the evening, I was given stilts to go to my tent, so that I wouldn't step on the mud with a bandaged leg. Already in the tents, almost all the participants found out what had happened, and it was heard that this woman was the mother of a boy, who was shot by the Germans in the school, in the well-known event "Student Troop".
Even today, after so many years, this event remains in my pleasant memories, thinking that this woman is no longer alive, and I would like to experience it if anyone from her immediate family, or at least anyone from Kragujevac, reads this article, and that we might meet sometime and somewhere, even if in writing. I will keep this memory as long as I can remember. That's why Kragujevac and Šumarice remained a pleasant memory for me. During my professional career, I designed a mill for Kragujevac, which we successfully built and put into operation. On that occasion, the local newspaper from Kragujevac published a nice article about me and that project. I hope that the mill is still working successfully and feeding my Kragujevacs. Good luck to them.

July 2024


  





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