The Great Escape: One Couple’s Journey for Love

The Great Escape: One Couple’s Journey for Love The Story of Fanika and Alec Car

By Danielle Car

In loving memory of Fanika Car December 27, 1925 - November 5, 2016

& Alexander Car, Senior March 11, 1930 - October 17, 2013

The room seemed to be spinning in circles; her grip tightened around both of her sons’ wrists as the man in the white coat slowly approached the waiting room. He opened his mouth, but she could not comprehend the words – hollowness rang throughout her ears.

Then, BOOM. The words hit like a blow to the head.

“I am… so…so sorry to have to tell you this,” the doctor began, “but there were some complications during the surgery, and your husband did not make it.” The words echoed through her head, did not make it. She cried out in agony as the tears spilled down her sunken cheeks. She whispered to herself, “Alec…oh, my Alec…”

The couple had spent the last fifty-five years together; she could not fathom the thought of living one day without him. To those who knew them, and even to those who had just heard their story, their relationship could be described as the greatest love story to ever exist. Luck, passion, and persistence is what drove these two together, and in the blink of an eye, life, as Fanika Car knew it, had changed forever.

It was early in June of 1955, and 30-year-old Fanika Spahich watched the sun sink lower and lower from her one-story home’s wooden porch. The air was still and the faint hum of mosquitos buzzed throughout the cool air.

To an onlooker, everything on the family’s farm would appear to be peaceful and quite normal – not to Fanika. Tonight was the night the singlemother would leave her only son, along with everything she had ever known, behind. This thought made it hard for her to catch her breath.

As soon as the last sliver of sunlight disappeared, Fanika knew the time had come. She slowly pushed herself up from the old wooden step and called for Jerry, her 11-year-old son to meet her in the sitting room.

The small boy slowly emerged from his mother’s bedroom, hugging on to a ragged canvas tote, tears beginning to form in his bright blue eyes.

Fanika nodded to him, signaling for him that it was time to say goodbye.

With his head hung, Jerry drug his feet across the wooden floorboards, which creaked after every step.

She had never left Jerry for more than a day at a time. His father was not a good man and had left when Jerry was just a few months old. She could not bear the thought of leaving him, but she knew she had no other choice if she wanted to see him again in Canada.

Fanika’s mother, Mary Spahich, who was in the kitchen clearing the 1

table from supper, finally joined the two in the sitting room, wiping the remnants of goulash stew on her off-white apron.

“Stará Mama, why must Mama leave? Why can’t she come on the boat with us to Canada?” Jerry asked his grandmother.

“My Jerry, Mama will join us in Canada as soon as she can. Don’t you see, if she doesn’t leave tonight you will only have to wait longer to see her in our new home,” Mary replied. She continued, “Now say goodbye to Mama, she must be on her way – you will see her very, very soon.”

Fanika’s father migrated to Canada before World War II started and the restrictions on immigration became so strict. He moved to work as a miner with the vision of providing more money for his family, ultimately planning for his entire family to reunite in Canada. But as soon as the war broke out, the rules to leave the country became more stringent. Fanika’s mother was able to travel to Canada to reunite with her husband; however, Fanika was not, since she was not a minor. So Fanika had to escape from Yugoslavia to Austria, and take a boat to Canada from there, while her mother took Jerry and traveled to Toronto to be reunited.

Fanika took Jerry in her arms and the two of them began to weep. She wanted to believe what her mother had told him, that they would all be back together – her mother, father, and son – very, very soon. But the thought of escaping Communist Yugoslavia alone, and in the dead of the night, seemed a daunting task. The chance of surviving, from what she had heard from fellow villagers, made her even more uneasy. She loosened her hold on Jerry, looked him straight in his tear-filled eyes, and told him that everything was going to be ok. Because that is what she honestly believed, that everything would be okay. And with that she took the ragged canvas tote from Jerry’s scrawny arms and started her journey – towards freedom.

Post World War II After World War II had ended, the Eastern Bloc, which included the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) and its Eastern European satellites, was formed. Citizens of The Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, along with people from other newly acquired areas, aspired for independence.

Before 1950, in the five years immediately following World War II, over 15 million immigrants emigrated from Soviet-occupied Eastern European countries to the west. Until the early 1950s, the lines between German occupation zones could be easily crossed. After 1950, legal 2

emigration was only possible in order to reunite families or to allow members of minority ethnic groups to return to their homelands.

Restrictions implemented in the Eastern Bloc, such as passport abolition, stopped most East-West migration, with only 13.3 million migrants westward between 1950 and 1990. Those who wished to leave the Eastern Bloc – Fanika Spahich – had no choice other than to escape.

Crossing the Border Three hours had passed since Fanika said goodbye to her family and headed north towards the Slovenia-Austria border. The moon sat low in the night sky, its glow lit up the entire countryside, making it easier for Fanika to see where she was headed. For the past three hours she had seen nothing but tall grasses and wheat fields – absolutely no sign of human presence.

As Fanika continued to trudge through the grasses, she noticed a line of trees in the near distance. It was nearing midnight and God only knew what creatures were lurking in the woods. As she neared the trees, she noticed a small fenced-in area. As she got closer, she discovered this area was a graveyard. Although the rickety-wooden fence did not look like it would offer much protection, the thought of being in an enclosed area, rather than an open field, to get a few hours of sleep brought Fanika the slightest bit of comfort.

She carefully crawled over the barrier, into the graveyard and found an area of the gravesite to lie down. She took a seat on the cold, damp ground and began to rummage through her tattered canvas tote. Inside of the bag was a change of clothes – a white cotton blouse, a long navy blue skirt, a pair of leather sandals, and a wool sweater. She had ripped the seam at the bottom of the bag to make a secret compartment to store her 20 Canadian Dollars and 20 Dinars, Yugoslav currency. If she was caught, she’d hope the police wouldn’t think she was escaping, as long as they couldn’t find the money.

She pulled out the sky blue wool sweater and draped it over her lower body, and within minutes was fast asleep.

The sun began to rise into the summer sky, signaling for Fanika to continue her journey towards the border. She grabbed her wool sweater and hugged it tight to her chest. The smell of the wool took her back to just yesterday when she was in her home, with her mother and son. After a minute, she opened her eyes to face reality, stuffed the sweater into her bag, and headed into the dense forest.

Six hours had passed, and Fanika could finally see what looked to be 3

civilization. In the distance she could vaguely make out the beginning of a small, quaint town. She then looked at the placement of the sun, estimating that there was roughly six hours left of daylight. “Could this really be the border?” she thought to herself. Time had passed by so quickly; her thoughts must have kept her mind occupied.

Approaching the town, Fanika was greeted by smiling faces, making her feel welcome and almost as if she was at home. She walked in to the first restaurant she passed, “Mala Kuhinja,” meaning “Little Kitchen” in Croatian.

A familiar smell filled her nose the moment she walked through the door – the smell of paprika. Although she was over 200 kilometers – 125 miles – from her home near Karlovac, Croatia, she was in a village that made her feel as if she had not ventured too far. She ordered a plate of goulash soup and a glass of water, and planned to stay at Mala Kuhinja until darkness fell across the town – then she would cross the border.

Fanika stared at the clock on the burgundy-colored wall, waiting for the hour hand to reach the eight. A rather large, bald-headed man approached the table she was seated at, blocking her view of the clock.

“I know what you’re looking for,” he said in a raspy voice. “If you know, then show me,” Fanika replied. The man pulled the white Venetian curtain from the paned window and pointed in the direction of a small river.

“You must wait until the guards have reached the far side of the river until you go,” he said. He continued, “Once you’ve crossed into Austria, keep walking until you arrive at the train station in Radkersburg”.

Fanika could not believe what she was hearing; without hesitating she clasped the man’s hands and thanked him, tears filled her eyes. He gave her a subtle smile, nodded, and headed for the door of the restaurant. Fanika pulled out 5 Dinars from her tote, and placed it on the table for the waitress to collect. She gathered her belongings, and set out into the dusk, towards the river.

She meandered throughout the streets near the river, keeping a close eye on the guards as they patrolled the perimeter. Forty minutes had passed and the sun had disappeared, as did the guards, so Fanika set out towards the river, following it as it weaved towards Austria.

Within ten minutes of following the river’s path, the faint sound of a dog barking in the distance started to get louder and louder. With little time to spare, Fanika had to make a decision – run back to where she had just come from or hide in the river. As the ruckus drew closer and closer, Fanika ripped the remaining money from the seam of the canvas tote and tossed the bag, 4

filled with her change of clothes, in the opposite direction. Thinking quickly, she tore off a hollow reed from the edge of the river and quietly entered the water.

In the lukewarm water, she continued her journey towards the border, wading through the muddy river, anxiously anticipating the arrival of the soldiers. What she hoped were fireflies turned out to be the flashlights of the soldiers patrolling the border, coming closer and closer in her direction. In an attempt to remain calm, Fanika began breathing slowly, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. She heard the crunching of the dry grass and twigs below the guards’ feet, they were no more than 100 meters away. She placed the hollow reed to her lips and slowly lowered into the murky water, breathing through the reed as the soldiers and their guard dogs passed.

Forty seconds – that’s how long Fanika remained submerged underwater, breathing through the hollow reed. That seemed to be the longest 40 seconds of her entire life. She turned back to catch a glimpse of the men that paraded up and down the river. The only thing that she could make out on their bodies were their rifles, strapped over their shoulders, draping over their backs. Her eyes remained on the three men and one German Sheperd until they disappeared into the pitch-black darkness of Slovenia. At that moment, Fanika hoisted herself out of the river and ran into Austria.

She was safe.

Meeting Alec Six months had passed since Fanika had arrived in Radkersburg, Austria. She, along with several other Yugoslavs, had escaped from Slovenia. They had been offered refuge, from the Austrian government, upon their arrival. For the past six months she had been working as a waitress at a local restaurant in town. She still had vivid nightmares – nightmares that the guards caught her – that haunted her at night of her journey across the border, but rest assured that it was all worth it. It would only be a matter of months before she could earn enough money for a one-way ticket to Canada, and be reunited with her family.

The clock struck eight o’clock and the last of the dinner rush began to trickle out of the restaurant. Fanika typically worked the closing shift, spending the last two hours of work serving the regulars at the bar. The owner’s wife, who was wiping down tables, signaled for Fanika to take her 5

break before the rush of drunks swarmed the bar. Fanika untied her apron and carefully lifted it over her head, careful not to catch it in her hair, which had just been curled the night prior. She hung her apron behind the counter and headed out the front door to catch a breath of fresh air and watch the sun set.

As Fanika pressed against the wooden door to exit the restaurant her eyes fixated on a rather young, good-looking man riding towards her on a red bicycle. As he approached the restaurant he hiked his right leg up and dismounted the bike, guiding it towards the side of the building. He was roughly five foot eight and had a full head of black hair. He wore a greycolored flat cap, grey trousers, and an off-white button up shirt. As he got closer to Fanika she noticed a dried red wine stain on the collar of his shirt.

He shot her a smile as their eyes locked, tipped his hat to her, and proceeded to walk into the restaurant.

Fanika cut her break short and headed back inside after only 15 minutes had passed. As she entered the restaurant her eyes immediately went to the man with the flat cap. Although the town of Radkersburg was filled with many refugees, she felt as if she had come to know almost everyone who lived here in the six months she’d been there – but she did not recognize this man. She reached for her apron behind the counter and headed towards the man.

“Can I offer you something else to drink?” she asked him. Startled, he flinched and his head jolted upwards, and then his crystal blue eyes met hers.

“Uh…yeah I’ll take another beer please,” he replied. She could tell by his accent that he wasn’t Austrian. His accent was thick, and definitely of Slavic decent – she knew he, just like her, was an escapee from Yugoslavia.

“So what’s your story?” she asked him smugly, as she placed his 16ounce mug full of beer in front of his clasped hands. “My story? Well I’m sure it’s no different from those of people you serve regularly,” he replied with a smirk. He took a big sip of beer and then placed the mug down on the bar. “I’m from Slovenia,” he said. “My house was on the border of Slovenia and Austria,” he started, “The guards allowed the people in my village to visit Austria, but only for a couple of hours at a time – to shop and stuff like that,” he continued. “I had been planning my escape for several months now and finally had the courage to carry out my plan this afternoon,” he said. Fanika leaned in to the bar, intrigued to hear this man’s story.

“I told the border patrol that I would be a bit longer than two hours during today’s visit to Austria, let them know that there were a couple of friends I was planning on meeting,” he said. “So I rode my bike towards 6

Radkersburg, stopping at several bars – maybe six – and ordering a glass of wine or a mug of beer at each,” he continued. She looked stunned – he didn’t seem the slightest bit drunk. “I pretended to finish each drink I ordered, but really I’d spill it on the floor or on myself,” he said. Now the dried red wine stain on his collar made sense to Fanika. “I knew that I wasn’t going to return back to Slovenia, but just in case the police caught me I needed an alibi. So I made friends with the bartenders along the way and made sure I reeked of booze, so in case I was caught I’d say I got too drunk and forgot to return.

Make it look like I wasn’t trying to escape,” he said. “But here I am. They never caught up to me,” he concluded.

Fanika’s eyes lit up and a smile brushed across her face. “That may be the most well-thought-out escape plan I have heard,” she said. He smiled back and continued to talk about all of the different people he met during his journey across the border, in the different restaurants. They talked until 10 p.m. and it was time to close shop. They said goodnight and he headed for the door, as he approached it he turned around and asked, “I’m sorry I don’t believe I got your name.” “Fanika. Fanika Spahich,” she responded. “Great to meet you Fanika. I’m Alec. Alec Car,” he said with a smile. He continued, “I will see you tomorrow Ms. Spahich.” And with that he headed to the side of the restaurant, grabbed the handlebars of his bike, and rode off.

Separate Paths Five months had passed and it was nearing the middle of May 1956 in Radkersburg, Austria. Fanika was still working at the local restaurant in town; Alec visited her every night at work, waiting until she finished closing down to walk her home. They each shared their future plans with one another, both set on taking the boat to Canada in hope for better lives. Fanika spoke of her son, Jerry, regularly, and Alec hoped to one day meet him. The two of them had fallen in love in the refugee camp, hosted by the Austrian government.

Two weeks passed. Alec entered the restaurant, as he did every evening, and took a seat at the bar. Fanika rushed over to greet him with a kiss and a mug of cold beer. He looked distraught – not his usual giddy self.

Fanika asked what was bothering him, and he informed her that he would be leaving in two days – on Friday – for Canada. He explained that his brother, Carl, who left for Canada eight months ago, wrote to him about an opportunity to work as a lumberjack in Thunderbay. Although Fanika felt pressured by the owners of the restaurant to stay in Radkersburg, and 7

continue working for them, she knew that she wanted to be with Alec in Canada.

Both Fanika and Alec assured each other that they would write to each other and meet in Canada as soon as Fanika arrived – in a couple of weeks. For the next two days the two of them spent every hour of both days together – Fanika took off work to spend time with Alec. Friday arrived and Fanika gave Alec the address that she had been sending her parents letters to.

She promised him that once she arrived in Canada she would get his letters and write back, so they could reunite.

Fifteen days later, and Fanika finally boarded the boat to Canada. She would travel first to Val-d'Or to stay with some friends and relatives and then to Toronto to be with her parents and Jerry.

Eleven days passed and Fanika had finally arrived in Toronto. Her entire family – her mother, father, and son – were there to greet her. She was eager to get to their home and hear all about Jerry’s last year in Canada. As the car pulled in to their home’s driveway, Fanika caught a glimpse of the mailbox and immediately asked her parents if she had received any letters over the last month. The father abruptly answered her question with a “no.” She thought to herself that maybe the letters had been delayed, and hoped she would receive them in the next couple of days.

Fanika told her parents all about Alec and their relationship in Austria. Her mother seemed smug and insisted that Fanika meet Frank, a man who she hoped Fanika would one day marry. Fanika refused to have another arranged marriage – the first one was an awful experience, only lasting a couple of months.

Weeks passed and Fanika had still not received a single letter from Alec, but she did not give up hope. She stressed to her father how much she loved this man and how she knew without a doubt that they were meant to be together. After several weeks of protesting another arranged marriage, and constant talk about Alec, Fanika won over her father.

One morning he greeted her at the dining table with a stack of eleven envelopes addressed to “Ms. Fanika Spahich.” Her father explained that his mother and he had been withholding the letters from Alec, hoping Fanika would change her mind about Frank. But after learning how in love Fanika was with Alec, he decided that she was old enough to make her own decision.

Fanika spent the rest of that morning and afternoon reading. She learned that he broke his back just weeks after starting to work at the lumberyard in Thunderbay. He was in the hospital and would probably be in 8

and out of hospital for up to three years, as he needed surgery and physical therapy to learn how to walk again.

Fanika began to write a letter back to Alec, letting him know that she had just received all of his letters. She explained the situation with her parents, and their initial reluctance to allow them to be together. She also let him know that she still wanted to be with him, and that she would be visiting him in Thunderbay as soon as she had the money. She addressed the envelope, sealed it, and ran it to the mailbox, hoping this time she wouldn’t have to wait months for a reply.

The Car Family Two years, and over one hundred letters later, Fanika decided it was time for her and Jerry to move out of her parents’ home. Alec had completed all of his operations and would be transferred to a rehabilitation center in the city in the next few weeks. The two of them reunited in Etobicoke, a suburb of Toronto, and on July 3, 1958, were married in a Hungarian Lutheran Church in downtown Toronto. Within a couple of weeks they had moved out of their temporary living arrangements, and into their first home at 39 O’Hara Avenue.

Within one year, Fanika had become pregnant and given birth to her second son, her first son with Alec. They named their newborn baby boy Alexander Charles Car, Alex for short.

Alec opened a shoe shop at 6 MacDonell Avenue in Toronto.

Although it was a small business, it thrived in large part due to his uplifting personality and the way in which he dealt with his customers and neighbors – with respect and admiration. This small little shoe shop and 60 hour workweeks over a period of 30 years is what made the couple able to build a comfortable life for both them and their sons.

The two raised their family of four in this home until the boys were old enough to move into homes of their own. When Alex was 6-years-old, Jerry moved out of the family’s home on O’Hara and into an apartment in downtown Toronto. Fanika, Alec and little Alex would later move to Mississauga at 1391 Safeway Crescent. At 18-years-old, Alex chose to study chemical engineering at McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario. Jerry had already studied Mechanical Engineering at Waterloo University.

As their sons grew older and started families of their own, Fanika and Alec spent most of their time together in their two-story brick home on Safeway Crescent. The home, the garden, the neighbors, and the 9

neighborhood was a sanctuary for them; where they opened up their home and heart to anyone who wanted to visit. Very few people could come and leave without tasting either Alec’s homemade wine or a small glass of rakia, along with a classic Eastern European dish such as goulash stew, schnitzel, or kielbasa.

October 17, 2013 She reached for his hand, maneuvering her way around the many intravenous tubes that invaded his wrist. He was nervous, she could tell from the look in his eyes as he studied his wife’s face.

Seven days prior, the two-time heart attack survivor was lying on an operating table at Toronto General Hospital undergoing a coronary bypass surgery. The doctors at Toronto General had done this procedure countless times – it was nothing compared to his operations after he’d broken his back in the 1950s.

Just two days before, he had a pacemaker implanted to help control his heart rhythms. The doctors assured that this was a common procedure following a coronary bypass. But today, Alec was having sharp chest pains and trouble breathing. As his wife touched his arm, he felt a sense of calm take over his entire body. This woman had stood by his side for the last 55 years, and there was no chance in hell that this emergency procedure was going to change that.

“Volim te, Volim te, moj Alec,” – I love you, I love you, my Alec – she whispered as she pressed her forehead to his, softly planting a kiss on his nose. A tear rolled down her right cheek as she squeezed his hand and he smiled back at her. “Ja te volim vise, moja Fanika. Vidimo se skorom,” – I love you more, my Fanika. I will see you soon – he replied with a soft smile, kissing her hand goodbye. Within a moment the emergency room nurses were guiding Fanika towards the door, signaling for her to take a seat in the waiting room, alongside the other family members that were waiting on their loved ones to return from the operating room.

Fanika entered the waiting room and took the empty seat between her two grown sons, Jerry, 70-years-old, and Alex, 54-years-old. She grabbed each of their hands and looked around at the other families in the room – their faces filled with sorrow and exhaustion. Both Alex and Jerry reassured their mother that everything would be fine, that this was just a routine procedure following the implantation of the pacemaker.

Five hours passed and Fanika could not recall the last time she had 10

been away from Alec for so long. Then suddenly a familiar face emerged into the room – Alec’s doctor. He was walking towards the three of them in a rather slow manner, with his head heavy – something was wrong.

Then he opened his mouth.

“I'm so sorry to have to tell you this,” he began, “but there were some complications during the surgery, and your husband did not make it.” The words echoed through her head, did not make it. She cried out in agony as the tears spilled down her sunken cheeks. She whispered to herself, “Alec…oh, my Alec…”

Epilogue Eighteen months later on April 3, 2015 Fanika’s son Zelimir “Jerry” Litavski passed away at the age of 72 after a short illness.

From the time of her husband Alec’s death in 2013, until August 2016, Fanika lived at the Constitution Retirement Home in Mississauga before being transferred to Trillium Hospital. She spent her final days at McCall Center in Etobicoke, where she died peacefully less than 2 kilometers from her and Alec’s home on Safeway Crescent. Fanika was 90 years old.

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© October 2014