Kostas Akrivos’s book “The Story of the Wanderer Stratis Doukas” (published by Metaihmio) mentions that Stratis Doukas (born in Moschonisia, “on these small, hidden and unknown islands”), during the occupation, hid a Jewish family that Pentsikis had sent from Thessaloniki. “How can I say no. For me, my humanity is inherent in my entire being. So I took them to a house at 3 Orminiou street, two rooms and all. They took one, and my wife and I stayed in the other.” (In 1942 he married Dimitra Magan). In this excellent story, Kostas Akrivos establishes a new mechanism for deepening the psyche of Stratis Doukas. And that makes up an entire era. I always remembered the address Ormenio 3, a small alley not far from the Hilton. The beautiful modernist house from the 1930s has long been owned by the Canadian Institute in Greece.

The restoration is amazing and you can also see the inscription that the writer Stratis Doukas lived in this house from 1938 to 1981. I often see it beautifully restored and think of the stories it hides. In the old issue of Slovo magazine (Issue 24, May-June 1983), prose writer and poet Tasos Korfis (1929-1994) refers to his “teacher” Stratis Doukas. Twenty years of apprenticeship and “all these years (…) I knew that he was waiting for me in a small apartment at 3 Orminiou Street, ready to offer me comfort.” In memory of Stratis Dukas, I think that this is an opportunity to re-read his most important work, The Story of the Prisoner (published by Kedros), which also acquires jubilee relevance, on the occasion of the 100th anniversary of the Catastrophe in Asia Minor. Through the moss of Ayvali on Orminiou Street 3. Life cycles, and especially cycles, whirlpools of oblivion that embrace what has arisen from a different scale of values.