Jiří Procházka

* 1924

  • „In Kladno, my father joined a group of prisoners who worked in the kitchen at Ymka. And there it happened that one girl was so brave that she wrote us a letter saying that we could meet the father and that she would arrange it. So my mother went there first, she met my father, and then my older brother and I were there. And they locked us in the toilet and we could meet my father in the toilet. That was a lot of courage from this girl, because if the Gestapo had found out, she might not be here at all.“

  • I was sent to forced labor during the war. I was lucky enough not to have to go to the Reich as I stayed in the Protectorate. I survived it with no big harm and lived to see the longed-for freedom. I still like to remember about the atmosphere that was in the society at that time and I hoped that it would last. It didn’t last for a long time because Communism came to power in our republic. It was a totally different situation for us and everybody adapted themselves as they could. I had a great support from the church in which I was living as the word of God always gives us hope and assures us that God is with us. It has been a golden thread in my life until these days. It also influenced the life of my family. I never tried to force my opinions to my children, but they decided to follow the path of the faith, for which I am grateful to God. But still some things worry me: namely that we do not appreciate freedom we gained after forty years. I think that freedom is a very precious gift we should take care of, but also that it is a responsibility. And I believe that our current society doesn’t appreciate it very much. Our educators should care about it and emphasize this part of our life a bit more. Without freedom, there is only slavery.

  • Our chapel was confiscated in 1941 when the Germans were about to invade Russia. We knew about the attack fourteen days in advance as a convoy of German soldiers arrived to the Palace in Chvaly and made their headquarters in our chapel. In the garden, they were making these strange devices. They were bringing wood, sawing it and making boards out of it. Then they tied it together and thus created huge wheels. The soldiers themselves told us it was made for invading Russia as these wheels will be put on the mud so that cars will be able to go over it. It was made here in the palace during the spring before they went to Russia. It is interesting that our youth group was visited by several of these soldiers and still, we were singing our very nationalistic songs. The boys told us: “Don’t do it, they will put you in jail, you’ll see!” Some of them were really nice and warned us like that. They had such an organization that when the time came, it all disappeared. We went there and all of a sudden, nothing was left.

  • Your father was an active member of the Boj („Struggle“) resistance organization, right? Yes, but he wasn’t captured for that. It was never found out he was there. But he was imprisoned for a different and rather banal matter. In the third building we had, there were lodgers, among whom there was a man called Hrdý. At the time, the electrical current was not made so that it would measure for everyone separately. So everything was counted from the central meter and the administrator of the building couldn’t find out why they were paying so much more. They found out that this Mr. Hrdý was cooking on electricity instead of just using a 100-Watt bulb as he reported. They wanted him to pay for it and he turned them in as a response. But the first denunciation ended up well. The Gestapo commissioner who arrived was bribed with a rabbit and he let it go. But the Germans sentenced this Hrdý to forced labor in Germany. There, he was in a rather good position as he was working in a kitchen from where he was sending food to his family. But he still owed money to my parents, including the rent. It was the reason why he accused them of listening to the foreign broadcast. When it happened the first time, they got to know it in advance and covered the radio at Mr. Živec, a preacher of the church. But when it calmed down, Mr. Živec wanted to listen to the radio and brought it to our place. Everyone including my father warned him that it would only cause trouble. At the time, when the short waves were “cut off”, there was a sign on every radio: Remember that listening to foreign broadcast is a crime punished by death. But he still brought it home. Once, Mr. Hrdý was visiting his family and went to our place to pay his debts. And what didn’t he see – a radio. Immediately, he ran to Pečkárna to Gestapo and turned them in again. The Gestapo came and arrested everybody. In the end, they bore the sign of “undesirable return”, the red triangle (political prisoner, noted by the author). So they ended up in the concentration camp, but not for the things they did. My father was a shoemaker and they were making leaflets in his shop. And his colleague, a rail man, was distributing it on the Nymburk track. This is how it worked. And they weren’t caught for that because they would be executed. When there was a trial with one of the group, Mr. Samek, everyone was there as they wanted to prevent his wife from telling anything. They were sitting around her and when the German announced the death sentence, they brought her out of the room immediately, because she would collapse otherwise. It was all saved by this.

  • In 1950, we started organizing courses on our desert and once, our two preachers, brothers Schneider and Našinec went there. They were marching on foot from Klatovy to Týnec. At the place where there are lime works, the police was waiting for them and they took them to Prague and ordered that they must be released from service. But our superintendent said it was not possible as he has no right to do so and that there must be a conference to discuss the matter. They wanted to accuse the church from being a US agent as the mission came from the States. In Budapest, they closed the church and put eight or nine priests in prison for quite a long time. They wanted to do something similar here, but they didn’t find any evidence so they must have freed our two brothers after two months in custody. We ended up well because when someone was about to join the church body, he had to have a state permit. If he didn’t get it, he wouldn’t be allowed to get in. We were persecuted in this way, but not after we were part of the church body. We had to follow rules as usual, so we had no trouble. But our superiors were in trouble as they had to negotiate with the Communists. As a result, the list of State police collaborators included even such people I would never imagine.

  • It is interesting to look closely on the attitude of baron Nolč to the occupation. He publicly endorsed Nazism, but he also supported the resistance to a certain level. So my father told me a rather odd thing. He was there, visiting the baron and asking for money to send our people abroad through the Balkans. Baron Nolč told him, that he would obviously support him. But at the moment, German soldiers arrived. He put my father in a small room and told him to wait until the Germans leave. A colleague of my father, Mr. Vaněk, was waiting outside to warn him if anything happens. But there was no chance he could do that so he ran off. It all ended up well. The Germans left and baron Nolč gave my father some money. Then, my father told him: “But we cannot give you any confirmation that you supported us.” And this man replied: “So you will testify for me after the war.” But it didn’t happen after all. The Germans themselves imprisoned the baron for threatening the war economy. He had farms and mills and as it used to be, supported the Nazis. So they paid him off by sending him to Dachau where he was killed by a British air-strike.

  • Celé nahrávky
  • 1

    Horní Počernice, 22.02.2013

    (audio)
    délka: 03:00:51
    nahrávka pořízena v rámci projektu Memory of the Nation: Stories from Horní Počernice
  • 2

    Praha, 16.11.2021

    (audio)
    délka: 01:17:35
    nahrávka pořízena v rámci projektu The Stories of Our Neigbours
  • 3

    Praha, 08.02.2022

    (audio)
    délka: 02:05:34
    nahrávka pořízena v rámci projektu Stories of the 20th Century TV
Celé nahrávky jsou k dispozici pouze pro přihlášené uživatele.

The problem we have is that we are not able to appreciate freedom.

As a soldier
As a soldier
zdroj: Rodinné album

Jiří Procházka is an important representative of the Methodist church in our country. The roots of its missionary activities lie in the beginning of the 1920s with his father, Karel Procházka, being among the most important preachers. Before the Second World War, the Methodists in Horní Počernice were looking after an orphanage. Because his father believed that the future belongs to crafts, Jiří trained to be blacksmith, until being sent to forced labor in Modřany in 1944.His father was a member of the illegal resistance group Boj („Struggle“) through which he and his friends distributed leaflets. They were supported even by baron Nolš, who officially claimed to be a supporter of the Nazi occupation. When Karel Procházka went to him to ask for money, he hid him so that a random Gestapo check that just arrived didn‘t find him. Despite their activities not being disclosed, he was sent to Mauthausen for listening to foreign broadcast as a tenant owing money for rent turned him in. There, he escaped death very tightly, being saved by a friend. He witnessed enmity between Czech Communists and non-Communists, which was a matter of astonishment even among foreign prisoners.When the Communist repressions of churches started to intensify, the Methodists were deprived of their property too. Unlike many other priests, they managed to survive the repression without a bigger harm. The Communist authorities tried to persecute the church members directly in 1950, when they held two Methodist brothers for two months and wanted to destroy the church in the same way as in Hungary. Fortunately, it didn‘t happen. But still, the church leaders had to make concessions and negotiate all the time so that the Communists approve the priests that wanted to join the body. As a result, many of them appeared on the State security list of collaborators. Jiří Procházka continues in his missionary work even today. He saw its beginnings, development, attempts to persecute it as well as the current state. Nowadays, he helps with the running of the asylum house for socially weak. Also, he works with children and tries to educate them in religious circles as well as in schools. Especially, he emphasizes the insufficiently appreciated role of freedom in our lives.