January 13th in the memories of VDU teachers

This year marks thirty years since the events of the bloody night of January 13. That night, fourteen Lithuanian citizens sacrificed their lives for the freedom of Lithuania, many were injured. January 13, 1991 showed how much power people's unity and desire for freedom have. Our university professors talk about the experiences of that night and share their memories.

Students defended the freedom of Lithuania

Professor of the Department of History Jonas Vaičenonis assures that no one, either in the capital or in Kaunas, has ever asked why and what to do, it was simply obvious that people know inside that they all need to be together and fight peacefully. Reminiscing, he says: "Some of my classmates, including myself, participated and were active in Sąjūdis activities, so it seemed natural and even necessary for us to contribute to the resistance. As the leader of one Sąjūdis group in Kaunas, I was always actively involved and interested in Lithuania's struggle for freedom. Of course, Vytautas Landsberg's address to the public and the invitation to not sit idly by, but to be where you need to be, also inspired confidence." The atmosphere of that night was deeply etched in the professor's memory: "It's cold, people are sharing tea and silently wondering what will happen here, or Kaunas too will storm. We already knew about the victims in Vilnius. I remember how we formed a circle of people, we all joined hands and prayed. Such a mystical and suspenseful mood hovered in Perkūnas Alley near the television center."

Associate Professor of the Institute of Forest Biology and Forestry Dr. Lina Straigytė remembers: "During the events of January, I was still a student myself, there were people in the university administration who were afraid of the active involvement of students in the struggle for independence. But we still participated (hikers, sujūdians). At night in Vilnius, after noticing armored vehicles driving down the street near the tower, through the so-called pear someone has announced that it is necessary to decide who is ready to sacrifice, because they may have to die, let them stay with their hands in a living belt around the tower, who is not ready for such an action - now is the time to leave. There were individuals who left the security ranks. Alas, the tower, to my astonishment, was soon occupied without even touching the encirclement of our living hands - to arm omonists suddenly appeared behind our backs, we had to see their horrible eyes, as if they had taken some psychotropic substances. The tanks drove onto the embankment and fired volleys from time to time, someone said they were blank rounds, but the sound was very loud, it filled the ears, even the eardrums of some were damaged. After the capture of the tower, there was a brief sense of hopelessness, but the mass of people made their way towards the Houses of Parliament. And there the mood was better, because the Seimas was not occupied - as the other republic looked like."

Molotov cocktails were blessed by priests

Photographer Romualdas Požerskis, professor of the Faculty of Arts, tells how he ended up in the Supreme Council: "After going around the entire building, I noticed the men's toilet box, behind which I heard someone talking. I knocked, the men opened the door and I rushed inside with all the "ammunition", i.e. the photographer's bag." Mass near the Palace of the Supreme Council. Then a blizzard would come and drown the crowd on the horizon, then the crowd would meet again. But hymns were sung all the time. Such a hallowed environment it was, and the feeling inside was that crowd was howling like a wounded beast. When it was announced that the Russian military units were approaching, the Lithuanians prepared Molotov cocktails for defense, which the priests consecrated. Then it didn't seem strange…”

Cultural historian, book researcher, pedagogue, translator and lecturer Sigitas Lūžys tells: "That night, as soon as the television was busy, I had to rush to defend the television in Kaunas. A studio next to our central building. Among all the other experiences, going to the center still brings a smile. I didn't have my car at the time, the first one that happened to be stopped on Savanorių avenue firefly and when he got into it, it turned out that the seat was only for the driver, the others were removed. For the only time in my life I had to ride a passenger car while squatting. But that was life! Our life! Here comes Freedom!"

Limited communication options, uncertainty and fear

Associate professor of the Department of Marketing Dr. shares her memories of January 13. Kristina Zikienė: "When the events of January 13 took place, I was 10 years old. I don't know if it was January 11, or 12, or 13, because that time is etched in my memory as some kind of separate stage, not separated by days. The parents went to Juragii with their older sister and neighbors, under the protection of the Juragii radio and television rebroadcast station. They didn't take me, they said I was still too young. She left her with her aunt, who lived alone." K. Zikienė says that she stayed with her aunt for a few days and followed the news on television and radio: "My aunt, then already of a respectable age, was constantly crying and praying - that image is still stuck in my eyes. As well as the last minutes of the television broadcast from the television tower and the words of Eglė Bučelytė. Communication options were very limited then, and my aunt cries and tells me to pray. They say that God listens more to children's prayers, pray, child. Having suffered the repressions in Siberia, she always sought strength in prayer."

VMU Education Academy docent dr. Lina Ringelienė remembers: "It seems like it was a long time ago, but at the same time it seems like yesterday. Memories fade. Only a strong feeling remained - the feeling of experiencing the worst night in my life... The first year I worked at the then Vilnius Pedagogical Institute (VPI). I had just graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts. My aa's father Vincas Kaminskas, associate professor of the Department of Theoretical Physics of VPI, suggested that we go to the TV tower that night, he said that today is the day of vigil at VPI, we will go and stay a bit, drink tea, sing songs with the ensemble and leave. We were all convinced that it was more dangerous and much more important to gather near the Parliament at that time, because people flocked there, and near the Tower seemed to be safer, few expected an attack.

We walked without much fear, but knowing that someone had to be at this point in Vilnius. I don't remember how long we had fun talking until we heard "tanks". And we believe and we don't believe. And soon we saw them. The father instinctively shouted "run home", and then retaliated, because he does not know what is happening in the city, maybe there are tanks everywhere, maybe the war is already going on, maybe it is safer to stay together. Even if we want to, we cannot run, as if something prevents us, as if something binds us with the only chain - the knowledge and feeling that we need to defend and defend. People were getting closer and closer to the tower, surrounding it from all sides. You had to climb the metal ladder on the platform - there was no such access back then, as it is now. I don't remember how we ended up as my father's colleagues, now already aa doc. In the house of Donatas Grabauskas, he lived near the tower. I remember, it was already daylight, no one was sleeping. Had to call home. Mother and brother left at home, panicking and in the dark. "Mom, dad and I are alive, we'll be right back," I heard a deep sigh of relief along with tears falling on the phone…”

Let the historical memory remain alive among us, cherish freedom and be proud to be citizens of independent Lithuania, eternally grateful to all those who fought that night for our free future.