My Child - The Letter from the Prisoners' Casino
text by Apollon Cristodulo
images by Apollon and Aristide Cristodulo
When Ion Cristodulo was politically arrested in the spring of 1950, beyond the shock and nightmare of the moment - no one could yet suspect the dimensions of the tragedy that was just beginning -, his terrible pain was that he would not be able to see his child that his wife was carrying in her womb.
It would be a boy, who was born in August, so five months after his imprisonment. At that time, his father, the enemy of the people Ion Cristodulo, who had survived the brutal interrogations in Calea Rahovei, was enduring his indescribable ordeal in the detention center at Fort Jilava.
Ion Cristodulo before and after his imprisonment.
Documents from Ion Cristodulo's prisoner file.
The Canal followed, respectively the infamous Colony at the Galeșu Coast, and finally, starting with the winter of 1951/52, the construction site opened in Constanța for the reconstruction and restoration of the former Casino on the Black Sea coast.
His recruitment, along with a hundred other political prisoners, was due to his architectural studies. This turning point also meant his salvation from the extermination regime in the previous locations.
At the Casino, although still in camp conditions, the terror regime was somewhat diminished, to allow the efficiency and progress of the works. Here the architect Cristodulo follows his creative calling, while the father Cristodulo experiences, as a prisoner, the drama of separation from his son.
On the occasion of his second birthday, he composes a short letter to him and, from simple, improvised materials, makes him a kind of little book the size of a stamp, with text and miniature illustrations on tracing paper strips (margins from the working boards), ingeniously placed between covers made of polished and engraved bone, a priceless artifact, moving in appearance and, I would say, downright sacred in its essence... and, certainly, absolutely unique...
The little book was kept in a small wooden box.
The chances of transmitting the unprecedented devastation to the outside world – loaded to the brim with melancholy, longing and hope – would prove practically zero and it would eventually be confiscated by the guards. It seemed definitively impossible, and, in any case, upon his release in 1953, it would have become obsolete in both form and content: the family he had started before his arrest had fallen apart during his absence, the bridges of return had turned to ashes...
As a bitter irony of fate, in 1958 a tiny parcel arrived from the Poarta Albă penitentiary and returned to the architect, along with the watch he had been wearing at the time of his arrest, the very letter crafted at the Casino. A small, belated and useless miracle, one would have said, if the story had ended here.
TOP SECRET
MINISTRY OF INTERNAL AFFAIRS JILAVA PENITENTIARY
11610 of 26.9.1958
To
CRISTODULO SIMION IOAN - born 1925
Str. Finlanda No. 14
District I.V. Stalin
BUCURESTI.-
Herewith we send you the valuables that you had deposited at this penitentiary, as follows;
A wristwatch, "Polgarnier" antimagnetic, functional, white metal, with strap -
For which we ask you to confirm receipt within 5 days of receival, by signing the attached certificate, thus being able to deduct it from our management, with the respective reference.-
UNIT COMMANDER
Lt. Col.
[Signature]
Chief Accountant
[Signature]
The document Ion Cristodulo received together with the return of his belongings in 1956.
But it didn't... Ion Cristodulo would be imprisoned once more at the end of the 1950s and, after his second release, in 1961, he would found a new family, into whose bosom I would also arrive in due time. After my father passed away in 1991, I found the letter from long ago and made sure it reached its rightful recipient, my brother.
Ion Cristodulo viziting the Casino in 1988.
The letter artifact was donated to the Casino Constanța Exhibition Center by the descendants of Ion Cristodulo in March 2025