Mihai Timaru, a martyr of the communist prisons

In the courtyard of the section, I met many people I knew.[1] Every step was a joy. […]

A man appeared through the ward gate. He had escaped for a few moments from a cell reserved for the sick. He was immediately surrounded by his comrades. He was almost crushed by the many arms that embraced him. There were cries of surprise: Timaru, Timaru…

I ran towards him with tears in my eyes. It’s the only way to get close to a martyr.

– Michael!

– Liviu!

My God, how beautifully Michael  used to sing that extraordinary romance from the latticed window. With all his intensity, he recalled the dramatic times when he had left home to fight, gun in hand, against the Bolshevism that was overrunning us. From time to time, he would meet his wife in secret in the vineyards of the Panciu hills. To avoid being followed, he would wait for her in the valley and follow her unseen from a distance, without her knowing. She climbed alone, with many precautions. From time to time she would stop to listen carefully and rest (for she was pregnant), and he would watch her from the shade of the bushes. In those moments, his love grew like a mountain. From these unforgettable memories, which Michael shared with emotion in prison, this deep vibration remained when he sang to us: “In the rock near where you live, I’m waiting for you, baby, to come…”

(Liviu Brânzaș, Ray from the catacomb. Diary from Prison, Scara Publishing House, Bucharest, 2001, p. 307)

[1] The action took place in Aiud prison, during the release of all political prisoners under the general amnesty decree of 1964.