Anna Uljans Foster

Anna Uljans Foster

Anna was born near Ludza, Latvia, a small town in eastern Latvia on July 28, 1937 to parents, Janis and Eleonora Uljans. She passed away February 21, 2017 at age 79. She is preceded in death by her sisters Kathy (Zin) Hill, Elizabeth McQueen and her parents. She is survived by her brothers George (Juris) and Peter, as well as her daughter, Kelli (Mark) Foster-Searles, grandchildren Aaron and Samantha Searles, and son Mark (Jill) Foster and grandchildren, Joseph, Gianna and John Foster. She married Clyde Foster, Jr. in 1959 divorcing in 1975.
Anna graduated from Shortridge High School in 1956. In her early career she worked for Eli Lilly & Company-International Division and Western Electric and then took time to be a full-time mother. Later she returned to the workforce and for the remainder her career, worked for the State of Indiana Families and Social Services Administration, serving in human resources and as a procurement officer.
Anna received a Bachelor’s Degree in English from Purdue University at Indianapolis with special honors in foreign language studies. She spoke three languages and was an avid reader and student of history.
She was a genuinely kind person who always put her family first providing a good example of honesty, patience, a strong work ethic and above all unconditional love. She loved being a mother and was a wonderful, generous grandmother who adored her grandchildren — appreciating each as a precious and unique individual. They gave her great joy. She was also proud of her nieces and nephews and their children. Also, she enjoyed co-grandparenting with Jean Smith and Ellen Foster. Additionally she worked to keep in touch with family in Latvia and was filled with genuine joy when Latvia regained its independence in 1990.
Anna also enjoyed spending time with friends, the theater and an occasional trip to a casino. All her life she loved animals and to the great delight of her kids, welcomed many pets into the family home.
The first chapters in her life are that of living on a quiet farm, surviving World War II and her journey to the United States. She kept personal journals all her life (in Latvian and English) and her early years are best relayed in her own words. She journaled not believing her story was unique among immigrants as there were so many, but because it helped her understand what shaped her life and the world at that time. In her words, with little editing:
“An end of July day in 1944 was a fateful day for our family. It was around my 7th birthday that war really moved in with us. The German Nazi army arrived in our home with their tanks, vehicles and other weapons of destruction. They told us we will be vacating our house and farm buildings and they would be using these as a post to fight the advancing Red army. We temporarily went to a hillside dugout on our farm, a large hole in the ground sometimes used for storing excess potatoes and other root vegetables. It held our family, Mother, Father, Pete (age 9), me (age 7) and Juris (age 3) and sister Zin (Kathy, age 13 months). My parents made a roof over it of boards and blankets.
In the meantime, the Nazi Army was busy camouflaging the farm buildings by cutting our apple trees, etc. and hiding the farm with weapons pointing from our house windows. We stayed in the dugout for several days. Our parents would round up food and milk and whatever else was available. They already had pillowcases full of dried bread, butter, cheese, grains, flour, ect.
As the Red Army neared, shooting began. We could hear the yells from the Red Army. My parents knew we needed to move on to keep from being killed by crossfire. They rounded up a horse and a wagon and loaded up the supplies and the little ones.
Peter and I walked behind the wagon as we were leaving our farm. Suddenly a grenade was tossed in front of us- and my parents thought it was all over for us. Then we had ducked. They heard it come screeching- but it did not explode. And once again we were on our way.
We became a family of homeless refugees, the summer and fall of 1944. During this time my mother learned that she was expecting a fifth child (Elizabeth). After months of wandering through Latvia, we, along with thousands were moved by ship to Germany with the retreating German soldiers. We had not planned to leave our homeland but there was no turning back. Shortly before Christmas of 1944 we were living on the margins of war and many times were helped by the compassion of the Catholic Missions and the kindness of strangers, day-to-day, in northern Germany as the war continued. My little sister Liz was born in February of 1945. War ended for us in the spring of 1945. After the war ended in Germany it was divided into zones and we were lucky to find ourselves in the American zone. We were among the hundreds of thousands of people who could no longer return home. Latvia had become part of the Soviet Union. Displaced persons camps were established by nationality, and we were placed in a camp in Esslingen, Germany. We had shelter, food and safety for the next four years. I remember being hungry but never starving (or worse) as so many had endured.
In spring of 1949 we were allowed to come to the United States via New Orleans. My parents were guaranteed employment sharecropping tobacco and cotton in LaGrange, North Carolina. We lasted here one crop season. Next fall my parents found jobs in Kinston, North Carolina factories. In fall of 1951 we arrived in Indianapolis for better job opportunities. Looking back I have to admire my parents’ survival skills and good luck as well as the kindness of strangers.”