“After the war, my father was ready to take revenge on the Germans. But then he became the administrator of a textile factory in Vrchlabí, which was owned by the Schreiber family. He needed to be in touch with them and so they got to know each other. He figured out that they were very polite people who were deeply saddened by what happened but could not do anything else but to keep quiet throughout the war. When the Germans were being removed and the Schreibers needed to leave the factory – where they used to live for several generations – that was the second time when my father was sitting at the table, crying. Him, who would have loved to shoot all Germans dead. Those are incredible paradoxes what the war can do, this terrible historical fury.“
“After 9 May 1945, a decree was issued ordering to shoot every German who was found armed. They caught one member of the SS, put him in the prison in Jilemnice and it was decided that he would be executed. It was a mass event. The whole city went in a procession to watch the execution. Including mothers with baby carriages. He was accompanied by a firing squad – the former partisans. I was curious and went with them. I can still see the SS-man today. He was tall, blonde, had his hands tied, wearing a uniform turned grey. He walked the whole kilometre from the prison to the graveyard and there, they made him face the wall.“
“One day they called me back home from rehearsals saying that there was someone impatiently waiting for me. There was a man who introduced himself as Martínek. He showed me his badge and said he had good news for me. He asked if I could stop by in his office. He was a member of the secret police, so it was impossible to refuse. It was an order. I was not happy about it but I went. They gave me coffee and were kind. They said they were proud to meet me and congratulated my talent and fame. They were literary buttering me up. But then they said it would be a pity to waste my talent and that there was a lot the country needed. According to them, our socialist state had a lot of enemies, against whom it was necessary to intervene. They said my task would be to deliver information about people visiting me and offered me to sign a cooperation agreement. I told them they must have been mistaken, that they have chosen the wrong one. I told them that something like that was completely out of the question.“
“In Brno, we were able to catch Austrian TV without any difficulties so we had detailed information about what was happening. When the protests started and it was not clear yet how they would turn out, we were a bit afraid to end up like in Hungary. But when I saw the masses of students, the use of force and the Wenceslas Square full of people, I was filled with optimism. I thought: ‘Communism is over here.’ Us actors, we were up and running, we were not sleeping; some were visiting factories, others the army. We could feel the major promise of hope that the regime would fall apart. It was like a miracle, astonishing. One of the best moments of my life.“
Stanislav Zindulka was born on 5 May 1932 in Jilemnice in the Krkonoše mountains. His parents were members of a community theatre called Kolár. Here, he made his first performance as a five years old and commenced his path towards an acting career. In 1945, he joined the Jilemnice high school and in 1951 the Theatre Faculty of the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague. He completed his studies in 1955. Hereafter, he was given residency in Hradec Králové. In 1959, he accepted another offer, this time joining the National theatre in Brno. Nevertheless, he stayed there only nine months before returning back to Hradec Králové. The secret police were trying to pressure him, but he refused cooperation. He returned to Brno again in 1967 and was performing in the Mrštíkovi Brothers Theater. He was briefly a member of the Communist party but left in 1968. He signed the so-called Anti-Charter. Between 1968 and 1975, he was teaching at the theatre conservatory in Brno, but was forced to leave for political reasons. In 1989, he moved to Prague. In 1994, he joined the Činoherní klub theater, where he is active until today.
