Portrait of a Father: Leo Levieff ’43

Interview by Petia Ivanova ’97

It was in the summer of 2023 that US-based Valerie Levieff got in touch with the College to ask if we had any records of her father Leo Levieff who had been a student back in 1937-1942. The school did have records of Leo. As we shared those with Valerie over the summer, we were impressed by the remarkable job she had been doing of remembering her father’s life story including details of his time at the College and Bulgaria. We were thrilled when Valerie enthusiastically agreed to share her many fond memories of her dad in a Zoom interview from her home in Connecticut that we conducted in the fall. Welcome all to the story of Leo Levieff as remembered by his daughter Valerie!

How did you come to contact us? What made you think of the American College of Sofia in 2023?

A couple of months ago I was telling my coworkers how my father had a cousin, a skier, who went to the Olympics representing Bulgaria. I looked him up online to see if there was any mention or any record of this cousin, David Madjar. I remember my dad sharing with me that David, or Davico as they used to call him, was a great skier and competed in the Olympics. Indeed, there was mention of him representing Bulgaria in the 1948 Winter Olympics. Somehow from that link I came to one of the pre-war alumni interviews – featuring Dimiter Lambrinov, Class of 1939 – where Davico is referenced. There was even a photo of him, as well as one of another cousin of my father’s, Daisy Leviev. That’s how the whole thing started. And I said, let me see if there’s any record of my dad. I didn’t even know if the school still existed at that point, but I thought I would look. I did a little research online and I saw an email address. You never know, right? Honestly, I thought I was going to get a response like, “Oh, thank you for your inquiry, but unfortunately we don’t have any record.” After all, that was so many years ago. I didn’t expect to get a response, much less have it lead to something so wonderful. But you did reply and it was such a wonderful surprise when you sent me those photos.

You shared that your father described his life in Bulgaria including his time at the College for you. What are some things you recall?

I was close to my dad and often when we’d be talking or spending time together, I would ask him questions about his childhood or different memories. I remember him saying that he was born at home on Tsar Kaloyan nomer pet. That was the first home they lived in and then sometime later they moved to Tsar Boris.

My father, friends and colleagues always say that I have a wonderful memory. My father would say, how do you remember that? I tried to hold on to as much information as I could, but over the years, I tried to write things down so I would have all those memories from my dad.

He told me about those street names and that his dad was a physician, an ophthalmologist, like him. He told me his parents were “matched”, as in arranged marriage, as was common back then. His mom was one of ten children and came from a very wealthy family. My grandfather was more middle class, and one of eight children. He became a physician, and he was very well respected because he was a hard worker. They lived on 5, Tsar Kaloyan St. and his dad would see patients at his office in the morning and then go to the municipal hospital in the afternoon. He would walk to the bus stop and he’d come home midday, have lunch, take a nap, and then he’d go back to either the hospital or his office.

My dad was named Leo after his grandfather, Leon. I have a picture here somewhere. This was in 1937 in Bulgaria, skiing. That’s my dad and my grandfather.

And this was a baby picture of my dad. I love it. It’s my favorite. I said, “Dad, you were so cute!” He replied, “Babies are cute.” I said, “No, look how cute you are with your hair and your little outfit.”

Like an angel.

Yeah, a little chubby. Funny, since he was always very slim.

Oh, this was in Bulgaria, too. This girl was Mary Danone. It was some costume party, I think, in 1931. My father was 8 years old then. Purim is what he called it; a Jewish holiday typically celebrated around March.

Sometimes I recall these little things, little memories. Like how my dad told me he often knew when it would snow because in the morning as he was waking he’d hear the “ting-ting” of a horse and carriage. That was his way of knowing it snowed that night because on snowy days people would occasionally take a carriage instead of walking. I remember him saying that they put a nice warm blanket on his lap in the carriage. Anytime it would snow here I would say “ting-ting” and we would laugh at this random little memory of Bulgaria.

He talked about the climate – how he loved the beautiful climate of Bulgaria. Often in the States, summers can be nice, but they can also have a lot of humidity, which makes it unpleasant to be outside. He would always recall how the weather in Bulgaria was a dry heat, and that he enjoyed summers on the Black Sea with his mom, his aunt, and his cousin. That was always a nice memory of the seaside summers and the climate.

My Dad talked about different foods like the two cheeses, sirene and kashkaval. I tried to ask him about favorite foods such as shamfustuk (pistachios). He said in Bulgaria people also like to eat lamb.

He talked about martenitsa at the beginning of spring, how people wore a little bracelet of two little knitted dolls, male and a female, what were their names?

Pizho and Penda.

Yes. Red and white, made of yarn. I tried to look for something like that and found a similar bracelet (showing a lovely sample of bracelet martenitsa to the camera), just as little memorabilia. I got us each one. I would say, “Dad, put on your bracelet, it’s martenitsa!”. My friends and coworkers would hear all about our traditions. I talk about my dad so much because he was so special to me. The first thing people would always ask, “How’s your dad?”, because they knew he was such a huge part of my life.

He also told me about the holidays. He was Jewish. Both of his parents were Sephardic Jews but they didn’t really practice Judaism. He told me about Dyado Mraz, your version of Santa Claus. I think his mom was a little more religious. She maybe fasted for Yom Kippur, but his dad not so much. My dad was not particularly religious growing up. He had a bar mitzvah and he got a bicycle and a gold watch from his grandfather, which was a big deal. The family didn’t have a Christmas tree, but his parents would decorate a chandelier festively for the holiday season as a surprise for him.

He taught me certain words over the years. It’s funny because even though he didn’t have an opportunity to speak Bulgarian regularly, on occasion, certain words and expressions would come easily. Often when we were out to dinner, for example, when he got the bill, he would add it up counting in Bulgarian. This is how I learned different numbers.

Sometimes he’d say osem i osem shestnaiset, and I would say what about sedem i sedem, pet i pet and it was kind of like a little quiz. We’d always joke this way. I made a copy of them here just to refresh my memory, and to perfect my accent. Chetirinaiset, deset, devet, osem, sedem, shest, pet, chetiri, tri, dve (counting backwards in Bulgarian: 14,10,9…2).

He taught me simple little greetings, like Kak si, Kak se kazvash, Dobre.

He told me about the former national anthem, Shumi Maritsa. When we would hear the current national anthem my dad would often remind me about Shumi Maritsa. On a couple of occasions, I would find it and play it for him to see if he remembered the words.

He told me about the Bulgarian flag, how it was white, green, and red, and what each color represented: white standing for peace, green for agriculture and prosperity, and red for independence or freedom. When the Olympics would be on, and they’d have the opening ceremonies, we’d be waiting for Bulgaria to come out with their flag.

I would always try to catch any type of mention of Bulgaria. My dad was a big tennis fan so whenever Grigor Dimitrov would be playing, we would watch and root for him. He also would mention Bulgaria produced a lot of famous weightlifters.

He told me about Alexander Nevsky Square. I think I might have a picture of it here somewhere.

Here, these are some old drawings and paintings from Bulgaria that belonged to my grandfather. This one, I believe a patient of my grandfather’s sketched this. I love it! And then this one of the typical Bulgarian folk attire. When my father passed away, I wanted to hold on to all those types of memories. They mean so much to me now.

Have you ever been to Bulgaria, Valerie?

No, never.

Hopefully, you would come some day. Just imagine walking on Tsar Kaloyan Street and then Tsar Boris Street and the Alexander Nevski Square and seeing for real a place that you have been imagining a certain way, and maybe have seen in pictures now?

Yes, I would love it. When he would talk about something from his childhood, I’d ask, “Was that from Tsar Kaloyan nomer pet?” I would laugh at how the street numbers are after the street there and before the street here. Often if we would order a pizza he’d say, “This is Levieff from Sandpiper 1” and I’d say, “No, Dad, you have to say the number first.” There were certain things he reverted back to, certain words, and even though he came to the US in 1950 and lived here until he passed away in 2019, he still had an accent and in certain words it would be more apparent than in others.

Do you know how your father ended up at the College or how he learned of the school? Was it through his cousins or was there something else, as well?

I’m not sure. He was an only child. His parents must have seen this as a good institution for him. I imagine the fact that it was American and founded originally by missionaries must have been very appealing as an educational foundation for my dad. It was private, with a good reputation but still located in Sofia. He would also have an opportunity to practice and improve his English there – that must have made it seem like a good fit. For sure, it also mattered that he had family there.

Did he tell you stories from his time at the College? What were the emotions they evoked in him?

He did share wonderful memories of being there. One of them was Mountain Day. My dad would tell me about the Headmaster, Floyd Black, and about how hard they studied. He would always joke about how in the States we don’t study the way he did when he grew up. You know, it was much stricter. They studied hard and did not have much free time. But they had one special day called Mountain Day and it was a surprise when it happened. They would wait for it all year and then one morning there would come an announcement and students would chant, “Mountain Day, Mountain Day,” and it’s the big day when they would go hiking up Vitosha mountain. It was also the one day when the boys and the girls would socialize together.

He talked about being in the school band. Here is a picture of him with the big drum in the middle.

He remembered one occasion when the students went to a movie. An American musical movie called On the Avenue (1937). It was a big memory for him. He loved American movies.

He talked about Christmas carols. Always at the holidays, when he would hear all the American Christmas carols, he would say how he learned them from his time at the American College. It always brought back nostalgia when he heard those songs of his time there.

And how did he get from Bulgaria to the U.S.? Did he pass through other countries on his way? Tell us of his journey.

His parents pulled him out of the College his senior year, it must have been 1942, and sent him by train to Switzerland – I believe it was the Orient Express. When he arrived in Trieste, Italy, – it was considered safe once you made it that far – he sent a telegram, “Bien arrivé” to his parents, and so they knew that he made it.

Before arriving in the States in 1950, he spent eight years in Switzerland. A cousin of his was waiting for him at the train and had reserved a little pension where my dad would reside. He went to the University of Lausanne where he studied to be a doctor. That’s where he learned to speak French fluently. It was hard because it wasn’t his first language, and all the exams were in French. He had wonderful memories of his time in Switzerland.

I always took the opportunity to find something that was nostalgia for my dad. I would look up a movie or try to find something that he would appreciate from his past. For example, in the movie Casablanca there’s a scene where a couple is in Casablanca and they’re trying to get visas to come to the States. In this scene, the young girl goes to the main character played by Humphrey Bogart and says, “Please help us, we come from Bulgaria.” My dad would joke, “They don’t look Bulgarian at all!”

In 1950, my dad arrived by ship from Switzerland to Hoboken, New Jersey. The ship was called the New Amsterdam. He had a classmate, an American classmate from Switzerland, who met him upon arrival and had secured a room for him in Manhattan. He vividly remembered how upon arrival in New Jersey, there was a song playing “Good Night Irene” by The Weavers. Often, we would play that song, and it brought him back to the moment when he arrived in the U.S. When he came into Manhattan, he had this long coat from Bulgaria. His friend said, “Leo, you have to get rid of that coat,” and took him shopping for a more fashionable overcoat.

He lived in Manhattan during his residency and internship. He loved New York City and that time of his life. He had to take a test to show his medical knowledge which he passed. It was impressive to me that he passed these exams multiple times in several languages that were not native to him. Years later, when I was an adult, occasionally we’d go into New York City and he would say, “Oh, I know this city cold.” (In American culture, meaning “I know this city very well.”)

Eventually my grandparents from Bulgaria came to the States. They had moved to Israel first while my father was in Switzerland. Then some years later, my dad sent for them, and they came to the States where he secured them a little apartment in Manhattan.

There was one memory from back when my dad was in the Navy. He loved his time in the service, where he stayed for two years. He said they treated him very well. He was a full Lieutenant, a medical officer, who had two stripes. There was a time when his parents were in France at the same time my dad’s ship was in port there. He said he went to his commanding officer, asking permission to go and see them, having been separated for some years now. His commanding officer said, “Yes, you go, and if for some reason you’re detained, we’ll fly you back.” He went to meet his parents and arrived there in his American uniform, and everybody started to cry. They opened a bottle of champagne because their son was in this American uniform. It was a memorable moment.

Years later, we were on vacation in the Caribbean, and we had to take a little boat from one island to the next. I remember sitting there and I said, “Oh, I don’t feel well.” My dad replied with: “Not me, it feels great! It reminds me of my time in the Navy.”

Eventually, my dad moved to Connecticut, close to New York. I think someone had suggested that it might be a good place to open up a practice. We lived in Westport, Connecticut but he opened his practice in a town called Stratford, about 20-25 minutes from where we lived. I think it was 1959. I only remember that because he practiced for 40 years and he retired in 1999. He had his office, and provided surgeries out of one of the local hospitals. At one time he taught medical students at Yale University, which was close to his office. It was at Yale where he met my mom who was working as a lab assistant. She said, “He was this handsome young doctor.” Even though he was older than my mother, my dad was always very youthful looking. When he was in his sixties, people thought he was in his forties; even up until the latter years, he didn’t really get too much gray hair. His father’s hair remained dark to the end.

In this picture you see my dad, Daisy and Joe, who is Davico’s older brother at a get-together in New York City. Years later, in 2009, my dad and I went to Paris to visit Charlotte, Davico’s sister-in-law, who was living there. It was wonderful.

My dad came from a big extended family. Although he was an only child, he had many aunts, uncles and cousins. I, again, would always try to remember the family tree. There was Leon and Victoria and Isidor and Albert. I would try to remember the names, who was married to whom, who had which child, and what they did for a living.

I don’t know if he managed to stay in touch with other people from the College but he did tell me about the gentleman that was the pioneer of the birth control pill, Carl Djerassi. With the popularity of the internet, my dad and I would often sit on the couch, and he would be remembering things and I would look them up – names, places, even the American College. We would see old pictures and he’d say, “Oh yeah, that’s him or her and that’s that place where we did so and so….”

I know he’d be so thrilled that I’m talking with you and that I’m sharing all these memories and experiences. He wasn’t one to talk about himself, but I know he’d be so, so thrilled.

Tell us more about Leo as a person. I have gathered by now that he was reliable and hardworking, that he was taking good care of his family. What made him happy? What inspired him? Were there things he feared?

His family was most important to him. My parents divorced and my dad raised us four children. Back in the 1970s when my parents divorced, it wasn’t common that a father would raise children alone. Even though we saw my mother and she was in our life, we stayed with my dad. People were always surprised, as it was not common. He took care of the four of us and he took care of his parents when they came here. He supported his parents because he wanted to reciprocate all the opportunity and support his parents has given to him. He took care of the four of us while maintaining his profession and running a successful practice. When my grandfather passed away, my grandmother moved to a home for the elderly, close to where we lived. My dad would take all four of us on the weekend to go see her and spend some time there visiting with her. So yes, his family was very important to him. I think one of the main reasons why it was so important for him to have the four of us with him was that he came to this country alone and we were his whole family. He had colleagues and friends, but he didn’t really socialize so much outside of his profession with friends. Even later on when he retired and had more time, his family remained his whole life. His family brought him the most happiness. With that said, his kids were what he worried about most, with our safety and security his top priority.

He was a straight arrow. He did “everything by the book.” He was honest and always tried to do the right thing and be fair. He would joke and say, “Oh, I was such a fuddy-duddy”, meaning he never got into trouble or participated in risky things. And I said, “Dad, that’s just who you are, those are good qualities.” And he would reply, “No, I should have been a little less serious, not followed the rules so much.”

A funny memory from Bulgaria comes to mind as I describe him as being very strait-laced. One time he did get into trouble: He was with a friend, and they jumped off a cable car. A friend of his father happened to see them, and my dad got in trouble. That was the one thing he did. I was like, “Dad, I think in the scheme of everything, you’re okay!”

He was a wonderful father. I was so fortunate. I have friends and people I know that don’t have that. Maybe their father wasn’t really involved in their lives, or they grew up very differently. Even though I came from a divorced family, I always felt very safe and loved and nurtured. My dad had so much on his plate and people are still amazed at how he took care of four kids on his own and managed. He was there for the school meetings, sports events, camp, doctor’s appointments and everything in between. I remember he always made sure we had what we needed for the new school year. He would come in our bedrooms and say, “Okay, let’s make a pile. This stuff fits and this stuff doesn’t. And what do we need? Two pairs of pants and so on…”

He discovered and grew to love the Caribbean. He loved that balmy climate, he loved summer. Especially as he got older, he did not like the winter and the cold. He found it very depressing with the trees bare, the cold, and not being able to go outside. He discovered the Caribbean once after getting bad strep throat. He had been sick and was just recuperating when he went to a travel agent who sent him to the Caribbean, the Bahamas or Trinidad, one of the islands. He said he got off the plane and the doors opened in this warm climate and the breeze; he said it was like paradise. He used to take us when we were young. Every winter we’d go on vacation, whether it was Jamaica or another one of the islands. Again, that’s not easy, traveling with four kids, keeping them entertained on the plane and breaking up disagreements among sisters and brothers.

There’s six years between all of us, from the oldest to the youngest. My sister Caroline is the oldest. Then I have a brother, David, who’s three years younger than her, then me, a year younger than David, and then my younger brother, Philip, who is two years younger than me. We all loved my father and were close to him. I spent most of my time with him just listening. We’d listen to music, and we would talk about him growing up. I just tried to soak in as much as I could because I never wanted to forget anything. I wanted to hold on to all those memories. And maybe I did that because some day I would be able to share this.

Thank you, Valerie, for doing this and for keeping all those lovely memories. And what would you say was Leo’s father superpower?

I guess I’m biased because he was my father, but he was very smart, a hard worker, and very responsible. Generous. He left all of us something, security. He saved, but also enjoyed some of the finer things like nice clothing. He always dressed very well. Later, he got himself a sports car. He loved that car. He definitely had an appreciation for the finer things but again, the security of his family was most important.

Is that how you are like him?

Yes, I try to be. When I was a little girl, I always tried to keep the family harmony. My dad used to call me a “mother hen”, telling me “That’s not your job, you don’t have to worry about that.” However, I did worry about my family and our harmony – my dad taught me that.

For some reason, I always tried to protect my dad; if I could help in some way, I would. It wasn’t ever asked of me, but I think it was just because I felt so close to him that I wanted to protect him at any cost. I think it was because he had so much to do, so much on his plate that I stepped in to help.

What else would you like to share?

Yes, let me tell about places that my dad loved. He had just gone back to Europe for the first time when he retired in 1999, so almost 50 years later. He went to Switzerland, France, and Italy. He loved it! Certainly, Paris was a favorite place. He loved everything about Paris and the south of France. He loved Italy and Switzerland too. When he went back to Switzerland for the first time, he went to the boarding house where he resided many years ago and took a picture right in front of the building. He never made it back to Bulgaria. I think everybody, all his relatives, had left by then, but he shared with me many wonderful memories of his time there.

He also loved music. He loved classical music. He loved jazz. He loved music from the Caribbean, calypso and reggae. He loved American music, all kinds of music, really. He had a big music collection. He loved Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Edith Piaf, Charles Aznavour, Yves Montand, you know, all singers of that time.

Anytime there was some mention of Bulgaria in the newspaper, like this one here (showing a newspaper clipping to the camera), we would clip it out and keep it. This one is about the Bulgarian roses – this was a while ago – and this here is about Sofia from back in 2012. As you see they are all yellowed old clippings I pulled together for this interview.

Oh, and one last thing: Look at this newsletter from the American College dated October 1991. Board of Trustees Votes to Reopen College, it says. It has a New York address and includes a letter from the President of the Board Robert C. Hubbard. It must have been right before they were reopening. And there’s a photo of the old campus at the American College.

These are beautiful. Thank you. It’s amazing how you’ve been holding on to them and taken them with you everywhere you went. Thank you for your time and for sharing your father’s story and through it some of yours.

I was so happy about all of this. I’ve been talking about it with my friends, telling them how we’re working on a piece about my dad. It makes me very happy. I hope your readers get a sense of my dad’s accomplishments and his kind, caring nature. Perhaps this article will serve as a legacy of his time at the American College and spark some fond memories for students past and present. I would really like that.