The whole dynasty. The father was a local politician, prominent in seventies until nineties, who built himsef a monument by forcing the project to turn the river bend, where it flowed around Mala Amerika, into three lakes. When the old riverbed was dredged, it stank horribly, and I was working in classrooms of MPSŠC facing that. There's some historical justice in the puddles remaining while he's forgotten.
Mom was a sanitary inspector, (... 10 words...) working half time, just four hours a day, as an invalid (probably heart, like my mom did), though she lived to be nearly ninety, to 2019 or thereabouts.
They had one of those houses on budžinbulevar.
They had two sons, twins, P. and N., a year older than me, both in same gimnazija as many other persons in this story.
One got married to Zova's niece (the older one, V.), and from what I heard (... 14 words...), he didn't fare well in the transition. A director/politician's child, he never acquired the quick and nimble business smarts, so ended up unemployed, became flammable and violent, would get into drink and fight. Their son, then, has three children, never worked anywhere, so the family lived on mom's salary and grandmother's retirement.
N., on the ohter hand, didn't get married so high, there's no story about him, only that he lives normally.