Romanian Expatriates Pray, Rejoice : East Bloc: More than 150 refugees jammed into an Anaheim church to watch video recordings of the fall of ‘the monster.’

ANAHEIM —  For some 15,000 Romanian refugees in Orange County, what began as a week of mourning for thousands of their countrymen shot down in a demonstration turned instead Friday into celebration of a new beginning.

“The monster,” said one local refugee, “is gone.”

The object of their scorn is deposed President Nicolae Ceausescu, who ruled Romania with an iron hand for 24 years before fleeing with his wife after his security forces massacred thousands last weekend during demonstrations.

U.S. diplomats called Ceausescu’s regime the most repressive in a Communist Bloc, which has been swept recently by astounding reforms. To those who fled their homeland, his legacy carried more personal memories: apartments with no heat, kitchens with no food, medicine cabinets with no medicine, and a state with no tolerance for personal expression.

As news came of Ceausescu’s sudden fall, more than 150 Romanian expatriates crowded into an Anaheim church to pray for the future and to watch videotapes of news reports. Some church leaders had stayed up virtually all the previous night to tape the historic developments as they were broadcast on the TV networks.

For those who gathered at the Romanian Baptist Church in Anaheim, it was more than a passing interest. Virtually all had left family members behind in Romania, along with centuries of family lineage.

“I am an American now,” said Pastor Daniel Branzai, “but I am laughing and crying now with my people back in Romania. My heart is there.”

Members of the church sat mesmerized on the edge of their pews as the once-unthinkable news poured out through four televisions set up in the sanctuary.

Younger, English-speaking refugees sat with hands cupped against their parents’ ears, translating the words about their native land from Ted Koppel, Tom Brokaw and a parade of foreign correspondents.

Small children, just infants when they fled Romania with their parents, shook their fists in mocking mimicry of Ceausescu, hissing all the while, as the exiled dictator appeared in one of his last public speeches.

And the entire congregation clapped thunderously as images of the capture of some of Ceausescu’s supporters flashed across the screens.

“I was dreaming that this might happen in Romania,” said Branzai, who preached illegally in Romania for years before fleeing to California in 1982 and helping to found the Anaheim church.

Added 21-year-old Christian Tifrea, who came to Fullerton five years ago from Romania with his family: “No one believed this could happen--not even a few weeks ago. It is a miracle.”

The phone rang at 3:30 a.m. Friday in Florin Pop’s Fullerton home with the news that he and his parents before him had been awaiting for nearly a quarter-century. “I was half-asleep,” the 22-year-old film technician said, recalling the conversation with a friend who had just spoken with relatives in Romania. “But it was incredible news; I was shocked it came so soon.”

Still, the day was bittersweet, as local Romanians listened anxiously for news about ongoing fighting between the new government and Ceausescu supporters who were attempting to make a last stand.

And all lamented that--unlike the recent reform movements that have swept Eastern Europe--it had taken such bloodshed to bring about the end of the former regime.

“It’s sad that so many people had to die to get one family out,” Pastor Branzai said.

Local Romanians are planning a massive rally and blood drive this morning at Los Angeles City Hall. Branzai, cautioning that the fight for democracy and freedom in Romania is not yet over, told his congregation: “I want everyone, I mean everyone , there.”