The mine at Baia Sprie

From 1952 to 1954, Father Justin was in the mine of Baia Sprie. This was perhaps the hardest period, where he worked harder than animals and the harshness of the regime weakened his health, but God did not hesitate to show his mercy. Great mercy was shown to the priest because, at the end of this period in Aiud, he escaped being sent to Pitești, where the news had spread abroad.

Political and intellectual circles in the Western world took notice and put pressure on the Communist authorities to stop the crimes against political prisoners. And so Father Justin ended up in the lead mine of Baia Sprie, following an official order to put these prisoners to work.

He quickly learned the mining trade. The former Minister of Mines was also a prisoner, and it was possible to organise efficient work despite all the attempts of the secret police to make it impossible to survive in that place; their aim was extermination, to make as many victims as possible among the “political prisoners”. At first, the civilian miners working in the slaughterhouses regarded them as heinous criminals, and the civilians were instructed never to speak to them; the militiamen had the same attitude. Informers among the civilians, but also among the prisoners (one had been “Antonescu’s old gendarme”), created an even greater atmosphere of mistrust. But let’s follow Father’s story:

“The first word I heard after my arrest was the word ‘bandit’. Well, bandit, that word has, well, gone everywhere to this day. That’s how it was inherited in Aiud, through Mine, in Gherla, everywhere – bandit, bandit – we had no other name than bandit. And what did we steal? I don’t know what we stole. After a parody of a trial, in which the lightest sentence was 5 years, and the heaviest 25 years hard labour, they also made fun of the sentences of these young boys, because they were all between 18 and 20 years old, and the rare ones were 25-27-30 years old. Sad, dejected, each one thinking of his own bitterness, a guard would come and ask you: “How long is the sentence, how long?” One would say 5, another would say 8, another would say 10 or 15, it depends – and to everyone they would say: “Well, 5 is the age of the neighbour’s rooster.” I got 12. “How long is your sentence?” he asked me. “Twelve!” I say. “Mate, many more! But the way you look, you deserve twenty-four…!” Or to another, with 15 years: “How much did they give you? Fifteen years? Well, that’s too little, my boy, too little; well, if I were in their place, what would I do to you, you bandits!” That’s how they knew how to make jokes, to make fun of you… “bandits” and “outlaws”; and they, because their convictions were successful, were promoted and rewarded, although the abuses were outrageous… And, as I tell you, bandits and outlaws…”

(Pr. Justin Pârvu – Father Justin Pârvu and the richness of a life given to Christ, Vol. I, edited by Hieromonk Teognost, Credința Strămoșească Publishing House, Iași, 2006, pp. 107-109)