Travel in Search of the Past

Much of my time is now spent reading, researching and writing about Jewish history, anti-Semitism and the Holocaust of the Second World War. While doing this I found that in order for this to really hit home that I must go and see for myself what had happened to my people. And so I include a record of a very personal journey that I took in search of this knowledge.

Friday, May 18, 2001:

Many years ago, my mother, her brother, and her parents traveled to the United States aboard the luxury ocean liner, Isle de France, in their quest for a new life that began originally in Sulwaki, Poland, continued to Paris, France (where mom was born), winding up in Harlem in New York City. My father’s family made a similar trip from Kiev in the Ukraine, before he was born, to their new home in Chelsea, MA. Now I find myself making the reverse trip, high over the Atlantic traveling from Houston, TX, to London finally on to Krakow, Poland where I plan to see for myself not only their hometowns, but the sights and horrors of World War II, the concentration camps and crematoriums Hitler and his Third Reich used to solve the “Jewish Problem”. It’s amazing when I think of the differences of the past eighty odd years of my grandparents’ journeys to the new world, and mine now back into their past. I look out a window of the plane as the sun sets in the west and I can enjoy the grandeur of the rim of red just above the clouds below us, while my ancestors, could only look up from their vantage point aboard ship to enjoy the clouds. Even with the trips I have made before, I cannot remember thinking of my lost family and the chance they took in coming to America. I guess there is such a thing as “coming full circle”.

Aboard this magnificent British Airways 747-400 are vacationers from the UK, the United States, and other distant lands either going to or coming from a sojourn in each other’s country and many who, like me, will be transiting through London on our way to another destination. Each has their own reason for being aboard this plane, be it pleasure or business of some type, and each is looking forward to the arrival in the UK after a 9 hour flight that will take us over the central regions of the US, Gander, Newfoundland, Ireland and finally into Gatwick Airport just outside of London. My stay, of course, will be short in the “Mother Country”. The dinner fare looks to be excellent, but one would expect that on a trip like this, as the free cocktails always go down well and the wine with dinner does help to pass the time and prepare one for the sleep that does not come easily to me on a trans-Atlantic crossing. I have never been able to sleep on a long plane trip.

I’ve hit it lucky this time in coach, as I am sitting in an aisle seat and the two seats next to me are empty, in a relatively crowded coach section, and I have the opportunity to stretch out a little and record my thoughts on my computer. On my other trips across the ocean I have either had to feel like a sardine in coach or use free miles to go business class, which I will always feel is the only way to go if you can afford it. Of course if the lady in front of me decides to put her seat back I’ll be sorry. I’ve put on that 20 some-odd pounds that causes the tray table to be in rather close proximity to my belly. Oh, for the days of accumulated miles and free travel. But, let’s face it, I would much rather be a casual retiree with the time and luxury to do with as I please, than be working and not be able to take a trip like this. One of the advantages of age I guess.

Must add a “Sam” note to this “in the air trip report”. Many times I have flown on British Airways and complained about the dull, tasteless fare they call food. Well, I have been surprised, happily so, with a dinner worth noting. It was amazingly delicious and complete. Starting with the shrimp in cream sauce, continuing with the spinach ravioli, the tasty desert, which I cannot name, (as I cannot find the menu they passed out) the French white wine, and ending with magnificent cheese and crackers. I was fully amazed and happy. It also did not hurt to have quite a bit of brandy afterwards and the best English coffee I have ever had. See? It’s so easy to please me with a good meal. Maybe if I have another brandy I can set a new “Sam record” of being able to sleep on a plane. And this from a guy who was a million miler with Delta Airlines and always said that he flew strictly for getting from point A to point B and the food did not matter. Maybe in my old age I am mellowing.

Saturday, May 19, 2001

Well, of course I didn’t sleep on the plane and by the time I arrived in London I was a little tired. Had to wait around in the huge Gatwick International Departure Lounge for three hours with nothing to do but have some breakfast, a bagel and cream cheese, just as expensive as an American airport, and then check out the prices on Duty/Tax free Napolean brandy and 18 year old Chivas Regal Scotch. If interested, I will buy some on the way back to the states.

I always said you have to be careful when flying some of these small country airlines, but the trip on LOT, Polish Airlines was very pleasant. Got a kick out of myself when I realized that I was mentally grading the cabin crew as they went through their paces of preflight instructions and kept comparing them to American crews. They were adorable and to tell the truth looked like they were more concerned than their American counterparts who always seem like they are saying “and this same old stuff that you already know”. God, I’m judgmental.

Anyway, I arrived in Krakow and saw the effects of fear of hoof and mouth disease that has been ravaging Europe this year. Before we entered the passport lines we had to wash our hands with a detergent and walk over a specially treated mat so that they could be reasonably sure that we didn’t bring the disease into the country. All this was overseen by armed military who really weren’t playing any games. I don’t blame them.

I must add a very personal note. When I stepped off the plane onto Polish soil, for which I have never felt a kinship, my first thoughts were “Grandpa would be proud of me, coming back to the country of his birth”. I didn’t understand that sudden feeling and thought, but it felt right. Even though mom was born in Paris, and I don’t think she ever was in Poland, I know it somehow meant something to her. God, I miss her.

After getting my luggage cleared through customs (which of course they never even checked, per usual) I hired a cab to take me to the hotel in the city. What a shocker to see well dressed, well groomed, coat and tie drivers who were courteous as they could be (American cabbies should take note). Of course their knowledge of English was extremely limited, but that didn’t bother me at all. The drive was beautiful through the countryside that saw lush green farm fields, rolling hills, trees and a number of small villages that were very picturesque. For all I know the driver may have taken a roundabout route to the city, but I really didn’t care, as I was enjoying the view and it was well worth it.

After checking into the hotel, I hurriedly unpacked and went out for a walk to explore while we still had daylight. Lucky me, I wound up in “Old Town”, which is in the city’s center, and discovered a huge cathedral (like there’s only 98% Catholic here), and Main Market Square (Rynek Glowny), which is actually the second largest square in all of Europe. The square is surrounded by small shops, sidewalk cafes, a flower market and what looked like a big festival with all kinds of activity, including street performers. I found out that this is a daily occurrence during these spring and summer months. There are pigeons everywhere you walk in this old world square. Took some great pictures of the goings on, the people, the shops and some of the traditional costumed performers who danced and sang to the absolute delight of the crowds. The kids were great. The music reminded me so much of Jewish Kletzmer music, which of course has it’s roots in Eastern Europe and the nineteenth century. I would have stayed even longer than I did, but I was exhausted after not having slept in over 28 hours (I’m not a kid any more), and when the sky clouds up you go from warmth to cold very quickly. I will return there another time to eat at one of the restaurants and enjoy the local foodstuffs.

I’m sitting at the desk in my room now overlooking the front of the hotel and one of the many, beautiful, lush green public parks that you find throughout the city. Every now and then I can see one of the many streetcars, that I have seen on television, go by. The sky has cleared, the sun is shining, and I’m exhausted. I’ll eat here in the hotel tonight so I don’t have to go out again and then crash for a nice long sleep. Oh yes, I just discovered an English language news channel on television. Wish the desk didn’t face a mirror because there is some bald, bespeckled, overweight guy looking back at me. Who is that?

Tomorrow I am taking a guided tour from the hotel to Auschwitz and Birkenau (Auschwitz II), which will make life a lot easier on me instead of having to find my own way. This is really the reason and backbone of my whole trip and I am looking forward to it. I just hope it doesn’t tear me up too badly.

Sunday, May 20, 2001:

It’s now Sunday and on the bus for the tour trip to Auschwitz, and there are people, Jewish and non-Jewish, from all over, including a few from as far away as Australia. The guide does the whole thing in English, so I know I have done the right thing.

The city of Oswiecim (Auschwitz in German) is a little over an hour away from Krakow and you go through the countryside on a road that makes me wonder if this is a country road or what is considered a highway here in Poland. An Interstate it is not, nor is it what we would call a US highway or even a state road. They go like crazy and pass in places that scares the living hell out of me. Since it is Sunday, every town and village we pass through you can see people all dressed up walking to or from church. Here in Poland there is no such thing as a small Catholic church. At first I thought that was just the way it was in a city such as Krakow, but have discovered it is true everywhere.

At last we arrive at Auschwitz I. I must put in a short note about the location of the camp in relation to the town of Oswiecim. I was always under the impression that the camp was located quite a long way from the town and that is why the townspeople claimed they did not know what was going on at the concentration camp. Auschwitz sits right on the outskirts of Oswiecim and there is no way that the residents there did not know. They didn’t want to know and there is no way that all the cover-ups of the SS could hide the true facts from them. Auschwitz was the final destination for the Jewish people from all over Europe. Most of the records were destroyed, but some records and negatives were found after the war in Russia, with Jews coming from France, Germany, Italy, Hungary, the Balkan states, etc. All roads led to Auschwitz………and the awaiting death. Six million Jews in total died in the death camps and by special killing units that worked behind the front lines. Auschwitz was the destination for Jews and destruction from 1942 on.

Up until today I thought that there were only two camps involved with this, with Birkenau being Auschwitz II. The third camp (Auschwitz III), Monowitz, I discovered, was strictly for prisoners who were farmed out as slave labor to industries such as I.G. Farben. At first we went to see a film about the camp showing many pictures that I have seen before, and films that were taken by the liberating Russian army in February 1945. No matter how many times you see this you can’t believe what you are looking at. Now the magnitude of it all hit me in the gut for I was now there, where it all happened.

Our tour group of about 25 people was led by our Jewish/Polish female guide, who was probably close to my age, into the camp itself and passed under that infamous overhead sign that said “Arbeit Macht Frei” (Work Brings Freedom). How ludicrous and painful. Auschweitz I was originally built by the Polish government as an army barracks and all the buildings are two story brick affairs. When the Nazis took it over in 1940 it was turned into a horrible political prison for Polish dissidents, Russian and Polish prisoners of war, some Jews, and anyone else who did things Germany did not like. It was a forced labor camp, not specifically a death camp until after 1942. But let’s face it, people died there for the slightest of reasons. Then in 1942 it became a labor and death camp and only Jews were incarcerated there to help the “Final Solution”. At first Auschwitz was just for men, and all women, along with men (but kept separately) were sent to Birkenau nearby.

After going through the formerly electrified, high, barbed wire fences we went into many of the buildings, which at this point have been turned into museums that tear your heart out. Do you have any idea what it is like to see 2 tons of human hair that was shipped to factories from which they made cloth? Or how about 23,000 pair of shoes, or rooms full of tooth brushes, combs, teeth, eyeglasses, crutches and wooden legs, suitcases with peoples names and numbers, or the thing that made me walk outside for a moment……tons of children’s clothing. This was all that was left at the end, but train loads of materials like this were sent back to the surrounding factories or to Germany itself for recycling. Even the ashes from the ovens were recycled and used for fertilizer. There were pictures and pictures of prisoners, both adult and children, in their striped prison uniforms, with their names, and dates of incarceration and death. This practice of photography was stopped when the camp became for Jews only and there was a desire to leave no record of what happened to individuals in occupied Poland. The Nazis kept perfect records, which of course, when found were used to prosecute them after the war. Of course of the 7,000 SS men and women who served at Auschwitz I, II, and III (3,400 at any one time) only 1,200 were ever brought to trial. Most were let go. The balance escaped to South America, or changed their names and remained in Europe, or died during or after the war.

We then went to the courtyard between barracks 10 and 11, which is where the “killing wall” was located. This is where people were shot in mass groups before Zyclon B gas became the killing fashion. There also was a gallows. It is interesting to note that all windows facing this courtyard were covered over so no one would know what was going on. In building 11 we also saw the interrogation rooms and tiny punishment cells that people had to crawl into, which had 5 people standing for days on end, as that’s all there was room to do. Usually they died like this. Near this area was where Jews arrived and the infamous “selections” were made. If the officer in charge chose you for forced labor he pointed, with his thumb to the right. All others went to the left and were marked for extinction. Of course children were different, and twins were turned over to Dr. Mengele, The Angel of Death, for his “medical” experiments at Birkenau. Surviving photographs show this “selection” and you can see so few to the right and mobs to the left. This same area was used for roll call many times a day to make sure that no one escaped. In the middle of this area was another gallows, still standing, where some were hanged.

Next came the worst of all, the Polish army underground bunker that was turned into a gas chamber and three crematoria. They were destroyed by the SS in the fall of 1943 when all selections were transferred to Birkenau (Auschwitz II), but the Polish government has found all of the original materials for the bunker and reconstructed it. It took everything in me to enter this underground bunker of deathly horror, but I knew I must.

First we stood in the large chamber that all the condemned stood in naked, packed like sardines. The room could hold roughly a thousand men, women and children. The gas, Zyclon B, would come through a vent in the low ceiling and those who were directly under it would die immediately. It would take 15-20 minutes to exterminate everyone in the room. In the very next room were three double crematoria where the dead were burned to ashes. Standing there taking my pictures was very difficult for me, for I never think of “they” were slaughtered there, but rather “we” were slaughtered there. It is something I cannot explain. I just feel it. To me this is not history of some anonymous past, but rather a living, breathing thing that is within me. Maybe I feel this way from the teaching of the Seder at Passover, when we read “and we were slaves in Egypt”. I rushed out after taking the pictures, and couldn’t stop crying.

We then took a break before proceeding to Birkenau (Auschwitz II) by bus. Some members of the tour went to the snack bar to buy something to eat, which to me was impossible and incomprehensible. I walked towards the crematoria and quietly said the Kaddish for the dead, even though I know you must have a minyan of 10 men to be able to say this prayer. My desire to say it was more important to me than the rule. I cried my way through it, as I do now writing this.

Now it was time to board the bus again and proceed to Birkenau, which is huge. You have no idea how big it was and how many barracks buildings stood there. We entered through the infamous watch tower where the trains pulled in with their human cargo only to go through a “selection” by Dr. Joseph Mengele and his associates. I stood on the railroad tracks leading under this tower to take my pictures. While many were worked and starved to death in building facilities for the Nazis and German industries, the overwhelming number were selected for immediate death in the gas chambers. Let’s face it, they died one way or the other.

The barracks we went into were just like they looked in pictures and movies. Insanity reigned. The wooden barracks were originally built as horse barns at other locations and then reconstructed at Birkenau to incarcerate the condemned. Now instead of each building housing 55 horses, each building could hold 600 people, with 4-5 people to each bunk in a layer of three high. The bathroom buildings (if you could call them that) were sickening. The explanations and stories we were informed about are too unbelievable to try to put down on paper by me. This was our last stop.

And so I left the largest concentration camp of death ever known to man. For me it was an experience I shall never forget, and one that will effect me in all I do. My research, reading and writing that I have been doing for the past year and a half on Judaeo-Christian relations will now come to an end. I now have seen enough and really don’t care to have any more information about the two thousand year teaching of anti-Semitism that caused this horror I have seen for myself. The Church and all of Christianity may continue to claim that this abortion was caused by modern day Nazism and has no history and relationship to their teaching over the millennia. But let’s face it, as many biblical scholars, both Jewish and non-Jewish have written and shown, the Shoah (Holocaust) came out of Christian Europe with it’s history of exclusion, accusations, passion story, ghettos, inquisitions, crusades and death to Jews, just because they were Jewish. It is time for the Church and all Christianity to face up to the truth and realize that it is their teaching that caused this and if given the chance could do it again. That is why we say “NEVER AGAIN”.

I could leave this experience with nothing but hatred in my heart, but that would accomplish nothing. Rather, I would like to think that this has been a learning experience that I can pass on to anyone who will listen to me. We have to realize that man can be inhumane to man if given the chance. Also it has strengthened my conviction that God truly chose us to give monotheism to the world, and while other religions have done their best to annihilate us over the course of time, we are still here after over 5,700 years. There must be a purpose in that. As a result I don’t feel pain and hatred, but rather pride in our people.

I give this report mainly to my children and grandchildren so that they for sure will know what has preceded them and hopefully will receive teaching and pride to carry this beautiful tradition forward.

But there is still more to see in Poland. So, upon returning to the hotel I went once again to Market Square, which was mobbed with people of all ages, for a bite to eat. I love their kielbasa (sausage) and sat outside with so many others having a late lunch (or maybe at this point it was supper), enjoying the music that was being played on the giant stage at one end of the square.

A word of observation about the people here in Krakow. I have always had an impression of the typical Slavic woman as being squat and overweight. This I am sure is as a result of American movies and TV. How wrong it is. You don’t see just about anyone under the age of 50 as being obese (of course there are always exceptions) and the young women have beautiful, tall, slender figures (men too). Over 50 you may see a few, but in general obesity is not a problem here. Not like it is in the USA where we eat too damn much and portions in restaurants are huge. I know. I’m in no position to talk. I also noticed that women are shaving their legs these days and couldn’t help but notice, when the chance arrived, that underarms are cleaned too. I’m still a dirty old man.

I have a beautiful, full blown cold that I thought I stood a chance of fighting off. I’m going to head over to Kazimierz (the Jewish section) today and while there maybe get some Jewish penicillin (chicken soup) to take care or this cold. I guess it also wouldn’t hurt if I found a drug store and picked up some anti-histamine, ibuprofen and cough drops at the same time.

Just got back from my day of sightseeing, and I am exhausted. Left the hotel at 8:30AM this morning, it is now 4:00PM, and I have been walking (about 8 miles) just about all the time. Even though there are streetcars, buses, etc., this is definitely a walking city and everyone does it. Maybe that’s why everyone is so slender. If I lived here and walked everywhere like they do I would be thin and gorgeous just like them. Well, at least I’d be thin. While I am sitting here I have the TV on and am watching the Polish version of “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire”. I don’t understand a word they are saying, but at least I know what’s going on. Poor sap just blew the 32,000 zloty question and is going home with only 1,000 zloty, or about US$250.00. Have to turn it off so I can think about what I am writing.

As planned, I went over to Kazimierz this morning and took a self-guided tour of what used to be the Jewish section of town, which was turned into the Krakow Ghetto by the Nazis, housing 68,000 people. Kazimierz, on the other side of the Vistula River, which winds through the city, at one time was its own walled city. Jews first settled there in the 13th century and there has been a Jewish presence, even though small today, ever since. The exception to this was when Jews were banished from the country as they were now and then from every European country. At its peak the Jewish population was 10% of the total country’s people. Most lived in Warsaw and Krakow. The Jews of Warsaw in prewar days were 1/3 of the population, and of the 3,500,000 Polish Jews only 250,000 survived the war.

Today Kazimierz is a shell of it’s former self, but draws a tremendous number of visitors from all over the world and there are tours that take people there daily. Of the six synagogues still there I could only find two open on a daily basis and only one has services on a regular schedule each day. Needless to say, most had to go through a rebuilding process after the Nazi occupation, and it wasn’t easy under Russian domination either. The rebuilding generally still has a very long way to go, for with so few congregants money is extremely tight. But boy, was it interesting to see.

Being in such close proximity to each other it is easy to walk from location to location and see so very much. What really helps getting around is the signage that Krakow has all over the city. There are large map sign posts depicting the area you are in, with sightseeing venues shown.

Temple Izaak is really a museum piece and the walls are still being scraped for discoveries of Hebrew lettering on them. This synagogue is open to visitors, who pay an entrance fee and a photography fee, and is used for services only on special occasions. You have to buy a kipah to go in, but I of course had my own with me. In what used to be the main sanctuary they have a continuous showing of two films depicting what the Jewish Quarter used to be like and one made by the German occupiers showing the “cleansing” of the ghetto. The building was originally opened in 1644 with the blessing of King Wladyslaw IV, which was really a delay caused by a complaint from the Catholic bishop in the area about allowing a synagogue in his diocese.

The little Remu’h Synagogue is in excellent condition and is the oldest one in the city, having been originally built in 1523, with restorations taking place many times over. Again you pay a small entrance fee, which helps to operate the building and the huge attached cemetery that has headstones dating back to the 17th century. The old man at the door couldn’t stop thanking me for making an additional small donation.

Also in the area are kosher and “Jewish type” restaurants and small hotels. Had a great lunch with the best borscht and herring I have had in many a year. The one thing I did not see anywhere were any Chasidim, who populated this area for so long. All of these ultra religious people, who lived here, either left long before the Nazi occupation or were victims of the Holocaust. The area today is not one of the cleanest or newest in the city, even though just a few blocks away is a major shopping and business district, which I found to be crowded with people, cars, buses and trolleys. The whole city is truly clean and it reflects favorably on the people who live here.

About four blocks north of the old quarter sitting on a high hill is Wawel Castle, which was the king’s palace and fort. The size of it is overpowering and it overlooks the Vistula River, with its presence being felt and seen for miles around. It is a beautiful area with parks running along both banks of the river that remind me somewhat of the Seine in Paris, peopled with lovers and sunbathers (even though it is not warm enough for me to do that).

I walked back to Main Market Square once more so that I could sit for a few minutes and enjoy a nice ice-cold beer. Met a couple of gentlemen from Dallas who were graduates of Texas A&M, and we enjoyed sitting and chatting for a little while. They then left to meet their tour group that was going to Auschwitz this afternoon. I did some shopping and then headed back towards the hotel, but had to stop on the way when I discovered an “Internet Café” which allowed me to catch up on my email both incoming and outgoing. It only cost 7.5 zlotys, which is about US$2.00, and was well worth it.

Tomorrow it is on to Warsaw by train. Time to pack again.

Tuesday, May 22, 2001:

It turned cool and breezy today, which is evidently good for my cold, as my nose has cleared up with the weather change. Arrived at the train station early to make sure I knew what the hell I was doing and tried to make sure that I got on the right train. Almost got on the wrong one, but saved the day by asking (and who said that men don’t like to ask for directions?). Of course I am traveling first class, wagon 8-seat 92, and I find myself sitting in a compartment with three other people just like you see in the movies about Europe. Are you sure James Bond started like this? I feel like Joseph Cotton in The Third Man and can hear the strains of a zither in the background. (If any young people are reading this I can hear them saying now, “Who is Joseph Cotton and what the hell is a zither?) It isn’t easy getting around when you don’t understand a word of the language, but that’s my problem, not theirs. After all this is their country and I have to live by their rules and language. But, if you keep after things you can accomplish much. I’m not the only idiot typing on a laptop, as the young lady sitting in here is fast at work on this three-hour trip through the countryside. There are six seats in here, three facing three, but only four of us sharing it, so we are comfortable with empty middle seats. Not a word is spoken between us. Of course that’s not a problem for me, for if someone did offer conversation I wouldn’t understand a word. I am assuming that they don’t know English, which might be a bad assumption on my part.

When I arrive in Warsaw I have to pick up the rental car, which I think I will do before checking into my hotel. Then it’s off on discovery. I have decided to change my sightseeing plans and not go to Lublin, as it is probably just more of the same and Auschwitz was enough for me. Will definitely drive up to Sulwaki and Kiev.

What I see so far of Warsaw is, to say the least, a major disappointment. This city is ugly with a capital U. The retreating Nazis mined and blew up the whole city and then the advancing Russian army did a number on it too. Starting from scratch the downtown area was rebuilt along Soviet lines as we saw on TV newsreels, with concrete, plain face, huge, ugly buildings that esthetically are not holding up well. They look dirty and unkempt. On top of that, it is a typical big city downtown and you might as well be in Manhattan, before it was cleaned up by Guiliani, and the people seem to match the surroundings. Of course from what I can see there are some beautiful parks that I will take a look at tomorrow, and a section called Old Town that was rebuilt exactly how it appeared before the war. Maybe I am in for a nice surprise when I get there.

Now I know where they were hiding all those big Slavic women I didn’t see in Krakow. There is absolutely no comparison between the two cities.

The hotel I am staying in is very nice (Intercontinental Forum), but it has no old world charm and I might as well be staying at the Hilton on 6th Avenue in New York. However, the food at lunch was delicious. They really know how to enjoy good fish in this country, as the salmon, herring and carp are great all the time. Leave it to me to find the good food. Still can’t hook up to the internet in my room, which I’m starting to realize is because of the old phone system they have in this country. But here at the Forum they have a business services office which has internet service and I caught up once again on my email.

When I picked up my rental car, I wound up with a really nice one, as they gave me two grades up at the same price. Evidently didn’t have what my agent ordered. They drive like maniacs here, which I notice is normal for all of Europe, and I get a little confused what with all their signs being in Polish for some reason. Between the drivers and the signs I hope I have an uneventful driving experience. It can’t be worse than Paris.

Looking in the phone book I found a family named Berkowski, which was my grandparents’ name and my mother’s original maiden name before it was changed to Berkowitz. I’m going to look into that tomorrow. Then on Thursday I will drive up to Sulwaki.

Wednesday, May 23, 2001:

Whoever laid out the streets in this city obviously never had a driver’s license and was never behind the wheel of a car. It’s a zoo, with no pattern to it at all. And then the person who drew the city street map was dyslexic, or is it dislexic, or is it dustlexsic, or is it diurhetic, oh hell the guy must have been blind, cause what the map says and the way the streets are laid out bears no relationship to each other. Now I understand a lot more about the history of this place, which has been conquered many times over. Evidently they captured the place, tried to get around it, and decided the hell with it, and left when they realized they were completely lost. I know the feeling because I went through it time and time again today. What’s the old saying? “You can’t get there from here”? It’s true, it’s true, it’s true. It took me four hours of starting out, making turns, doubling back, getting lost, trying again, and again, and again, before I finally found what I wanted. I’m not sure how I did it and wouldn’t want to go back to the same place again, because I have no idea where I was. Luckily I made it back to the hotel, which is another story for later.

Anyway, I found Pawel Berkowski, sitting outside his furniture store waiting for possible customers. A nice guy, about 40 years old, black hair and doesn’t understand a word of English. It was a draw, because I don’t understand a word of Polish. I tried over and over again to explain in English, broken Yiddish and broken French that my grandfather and grandmother had the same last name and were from Sulwaki. After ten minutes of his not understanding me and he going a mile a minute in Polish, he found a very nice lady across the street who understood English and spoke it as well as could be expected. She was a big help.

Pawel did not know of any family of his that had ever lived in Sulwaki, which really doesn’t mean anything since my family left in the first decade of the 20th century, and of course, no one in his family, to his knowledge, had ever been Jewish. But, there are five families by the name of Berkowski who live only 11 km. south of there that I could go see, and the lady who spoke English said she and her girl friend (they were both in their 70s, I think) would help by going with me. In the meantime he would call them, since they were his relatives, to see if anyone had ever heard of my family and especially my grandfather, Simon. No one had, and it would be a waste of time to drive down there. The funny thing is that he is in the furniture business and my grandfather was a cabinet maker.

He took my card just in case he came up with any information and then would write to me. The lady I was talking to just couldn’t understand why in the world I would be looking for relatives after all this time. I tried to explain, but I really don’t think she caught on. Also, she didn’t understand why I didn’t speak Polish since my family was from here. I explained that in my family’s home the languages in use were English, Yiddish and French. This she now understood. She was very sweet and helpful and I offered to do anything I could for her, including driving her home so she wouldn’t have to take the bus, but she graciously declined. One thing did interest her though, and that was the Georgia Tech baseball cap I was wearing that her grandson would go crazy over. She was embarrassed to ask for this, but evidently it was important enough for her to say something. Well, I can always get another one, so I guess I made a little boy happy.

I also was advised by the police that the road to Sulwaki is in disrepair (probably since 1804) and that I would be nuts to try to drive there. Did try it, found no records available in the little town and left dejected, but not surprised.

I also drive up to see what is left of Sobibor concentration camp, which was also an extermination center, but the only thing that is there is a large monument in memory of those who died there.

Upon returning to the hotel I went down to the business center to see about my AOL email and took along this “Poland” diskette that I had been writing on. A friend of mine who is always sending me crazy things had sent me a download, which I sent to my diskette. It wouldn’t fully unload so I gave up, read my mail, sent out messages and went back up stairs to write my day’s stuff on my computer. I proceeded to put in my diskette, went to open this folder and found that it wouldn’t work. In fact I noticed that all the folders were in trouble. Going to “My Documents” I found the same thing and panicked.

I returned to the business center, told them of my problem, which of course I assumed was the fault of their computer, and they called in their computer maven (expert) to come take a look at it. After all, this represented all of my writing during the trip and the only two copies that existed were on the diskette and in “My Documents”, both of which were in a mess. We found that I had picked up a “worm virus” and had a major problem. Their expert went to work, did this, did that, cleaned this, cleaned that, put in an anti-viral program, etc., etc., etc., and 3 ½ hours later we felt we were clean and back to normal. Of course at this point their computers also had the virus, but we are not sure who gave it to who, or is it whom? . Couldn’t thank them enough for their help. Gee, I didn’t know my computer could speak Polish, but I now have a Polish language anti-virus program. My first stop after that was in the hotel bar for a huge drink.

Thursday, May 24, 2001:

I stopped in at the business center this morning to once again thank them for the help and once again check my email. They still were in trouble and all of their computers were having virus problems. Evidently it wasn’t me who caused the problem. So I thanked them once again and sheepishly left.

Went to see where the Warsaw ghetto was during the war, even though I knew that it has been built up and there really isn’t anything to see. But, I did want to stand on the ground there and I felt the pain for those who suffered and died there. There is a beautiful park with an extremely large monument in memory of the uprising. The setting is something to see, and of course visitors come here from all over the world to view it.

Warsaw is not my favorite city in the world.

Observations worth noting:

Transportation-- Warsaw obviously has an excellent rapid transit system that goes all over the place. It looks like a combination trolley/light rail system and you can see it running up and down almost every major street. The double and triple cars look like they are always full and evidently it is the major transportation for everyone to get around. After all, you could get killed driving here. There are also buses running up and down the streets. During the day it seems that every bus and train stop is loaded with people waiting for transportation.

Walking--Another good thing is traffic control for pedestrians. Every intersection has walk and don’t walk lights that everyone pays attention to. You don’t dare walk against the lights or cross in the middle of a block. Cars give absolute way to anyone in a cross walk at an intersection as long as the light is with the pedestrians. They probably hang you if you hit someone.

People—The people are very friendly and try to be as helpful as possible. If someone who speaks English hears you having trouble trying to talk to someone who doesn’t understand our language they butt in and help you out. A lady with a child jumped into a conversation I was having at McDonalds when trying to order a combination meal. The one thing I do not see very much here is what I would call individualism. People tend to follow instructions, walk where they are supposed to, dress basically the same, wait and ride the trolleys, etc., etc. Maybe I’m being too harsh, but that is my impression.

Ice--One thing that drives waitresses crazy in this town is when I ask for ice for my water that you have to buy in a bottle. They always ask, “Isn’t it cold enough already?” Crazy Americans I guess. They give you ice automatically when you get a soft drink.

Food--I think I have figured out why the people are heavier here in Warsaw as compared to Krakow. American eating habits are the culprits. The one thing that I never saw in Krakow, that you see a glut of here, is fast food joints. They’re all here; McDonalds, Pizza Hut, Burger King and all kinds of local kiosks on the street that sell hot dogs, hamburgers, cokes, local sandwiches, cigarettes, etc. At lunchtime and after working hours you tend to see so many people walking around eating.

Buildings--While the Catholic Church is the overwhelming religion here, the church is not as much in evidence as it was in the southern part of the country. Russian suppression of religion may have been the cause when the city was being rebuilt. Don’t forget that Krakow was not destroyed during the war even though the Nazis mined it for destruction. They just didn’t finish the job, so the old churches and traditional buildings remained. It still has its charm.

Wireless--Everyone in all of Europe has a tiny thing growing out of their ear called a telephone. I’ve noticed it some on trips before, but now everyone walks around with one. And boy, are they small. (I thought no one’s was smaller than mine). Sit in one place long enough and you can’t help but hear them ringing constantly. I don’t understand how their phones have so much battery power to keep them going when they are used so much.

Smoking--There doesn’t seem to be as much of this as I have noticed in Europe before. Someone told me that the government here has a big program going on that encourages people to stop smoking. Along with this the Wrigley Co. from America has a big push on to get people to chew gum instead of smoking.

Weather—May is a very pleasant month here with the temperatures very moderate. As long as the sun is out during the day you can walk around with a short sleeve shirt. Of course I see people in long sleeve, short sleeve and sleeveless. But most people either carry or wear a light jacket or sweater.

Neighborhoods—When you get away from the center of the city (Warszawa Centralna) you drive into neighborhoods of apartments and parks that remind me of Queens, NY back in the 40s and 50s. The only difference is that those brick apartment houses had a certain warm look and feeling, while these concrete blocks are devoid of any style at all. To me they look like something out of the book 1984. Add to this scene the huge government buildings and libraries and schools that are faceless due to the construction ordered by the communist government under Russian demands. New buildings are being built that are starting to add some style and warmth, but it will take a long time to change the face of this city. The biggest construction going on is by the multi-national companies with the familiar names that are rushing to cash in on the growth of this country that is going through a change from communism to democracy. These commercial buildings have a typical western style, utilizing colored glass, unusual shapes and greenery to give the buildings color and warmth. On these buildings you will find the names of almost every large company you ever heard of. Must be a lot of money and opportunity here.

Money & Language—The Zloty is the national currency and right now is worth about 4 per US Dollar, and of course the national language is Polish. English and the American dollar have become commonplace here just as it has in so much of the world. But, the thing that amazes me is the fact that so many signs are stated in Polish, English and German, and quite often prices are quoted in Zloty, Dollars and Deutchmarks. I realize that Germany is just west of here, but I would have thought that with all that happened to Poland during the Second World War that the last connection that they would have wanted was to Germany. Does this make sense or am I showing my age? In renting the car I was quoted in Deutchmarks and my final bill was charged to my American Express in DM. I do notice though that I hear a lot of German here in the hotel.

Styles—Now here comes 35 years in the rag business. I can’t help but notice that the predominant colors worn here are black, brown, navy, and grey bottoms and white tops. Prints on young people are rarely seen. Brand names are all over the place and are basically the same ones that you see in the United States. The young girls (says the dirty old man) love to wear tight, slenderizing, stove pipe pants and very tight, white knit tops. And I love it. When you see someone wearing pink or any other pastel or midtone color they stand out like a sore thumb and look out of place. Of course Europeans have always worn these color tones, which I saw in fashion presentations over the years.

I did something today that I haven’t done since I was a child, when my family would go to the Catskills for a vacation. I sat in the lobby and watched the world go by. Of course they had no rocking chairs, and Mickey Katz wasn’t entertaining in the dining room, but it was fun anyway. (For those too young to know, Mickey Katz was Joel Grey’s father, and a star of the Yiddish stage.)

Today is just a day of taking things easy and looking around some more. Don’t feel very much like doing the tourist thing today, but might drive out to what they call their “Old Town” and see what goes on there. Then I will take the car back. Tomorrow I return to Krakow by train and fly home on Saturday. I’m ready to go.

Friday, May 25, 2001:

On the train again back tracking south to Krakow for another night before catching the plane to London. The station was only 6 blocks from the hotel, but with the luggage I had it was necessary to take a cab. In one way the driver was like a New York cabbie, in that for such a short ride after waiting so long at the hotel for a fare, he didn’t put down the flag and drove “off the meter”. I don’t blame him, and gladly gave him the 20 zlotys he requested. The express train between Warsaw and Krakow goes every hour and, from what I can see, carries quite a few passengers. The European trains have a well deserved good reputation, and when you consider the cost of gas and the bad roads, they are the only way to travel.

Once again there are four of us in the compartment. An interesting group of contrasts. There is a well dressed gentleman of about my age who dresses and speaks like an American, but evidently speaks Polish and I figure he is with an American company as he is traveling only with a briefcase. Another gentleman is obviously local and is the height of fashion (here goes the rag man again) in his corduroy Levi jeans, tattersall shirt, sweater (it’s hot as hell in here) and tattersall sports jacket. The young lady sitting across from me is very pretty and shapely, but slender, and is dressed very nicely. The thing that drives me crazy is that she has already consumed two sandwiches, a candy bar, a banana and a bottle of orange juice. And she keeps that figure. Her I have decided to hate.

They come around and serve free sandwiches, coffee, water, juice, etc., but since I just had breakfast I have decided to pass. The lady doing the serving refused to take no for an answer and insisted on leaving a juice and candy bar for me. I could have used her as a salesperson when I was in business. Of course the young lady across from me took another sandwich. Where does she put it all?

Many people stand in the passageway outside of the compartments using their telephones for both business and personal calls. Never have I seen so much use of wireless phones.

Well, I’m back in Krakow and of course the very first thing I did after checking into the hotel was go to Rynek Glowney (Market Square). I love it there, and evidently everyone who lives here and in the area does. There are so many people there, but it doesn’t feel crowded. Enjoyed sitting down at one of the many, many street cafes, having a sandwich and an iced cold beer. I think I have had more beer in Poland than I have had in the past year.

Being back in Krakow I was able to go to the Internet Café and catch up on the email that I haven’t seen in the past two days due to the virus in the hotel computers.

It’s about 4:00PM in the afternoon and I have run out of gas. Must be getting old. But, it’s a good feeling and feel like I have accomplished all that I wanted to do on this trip. It’s sad that I was not able to find any family, but I truthfully didn’t expect to. Too many years, too many wars.

Something just hit me that I am surprised I didn’t notice before. In all my travel through Poland I have not seen one black person. That floors me, maybe out of ignorance, due to the fact that you see them in other European countries. I wonder why.

Saturday, May 26, 2001:

Well here we are back in merry old Gatwick on the way back home. Had enough time to make two excellent buys in the duty free shop. One was 25 year old Courvoisier XO Cognac (Napolean Brandy), 2 liters for L85, saving L25 plus tax, which is within my limit to bring back to the states. The other is a box of Cuban cigars, which are not legal to bring in, but I brought some in when I came back from Sandye and Tom’s wedding in Jamaica without even being checked. Hope I get through again or else they will confiscate it and that’s not cheap to throw away. Of course I don’t smoke them that often (rarely), but they will go very well with that fine cognac. Hey, at this age I’m entitled to at least one vice.

Billie of course is still in Phoenix, where she went to visit her son Mark, and won’t be returning until Monday. I’ve decided to drive home to Lake Charles rather than wait a couple of nights in Houston and then return to Texas to pick her up. Just don’t want another night in a motel, packing and unpacking, and sleeping in another strange bed. Want to go home, unpack, feel comfortable and maybe run around the house “nekked”.

High above the Atlantic now on another excellent British Airways flight that has over 100 empty seats, which results in having a whole row to yourself and enjoying the comforts of first class at coach prices. How lucky can you get? One of the things I love about this Boeing 777 is the fact that you have your own TV screen in front of you and the choice of six movies at a time (double features too), or you can watch American and British situation comedies from TV. In addition you can, if you want, check your location in the air with flight information on one of the channels. I’m doing both since I happen to have three screens at my disposal. I just finished watching “13 Days” with Kevin Costner, which is the story retold of the missiles of Cuba during Jack Kennedy’s presidency. That really hits home when I think about it because I was in the service when that and the Berlin Wall happened. It is frightening when you think about how close we came to war. And think of the advantage the Russians would have had with me helping to defend America.

Well, only 4 ½ hours left to the flight. Better sign off, they are getting ready to serve tea. Tally ho!

Go to plan “B”. Thunderstorms and lightening over Houston airport and the airport has closed. Since, as the captain said, we don’t have enough fuel to hang around, we are vectoring north and heading for Dallas. What happens from there we will find out when we get there. Maybe with luck we will sit on the ground, refuel, and then head back to Houston, which is where my van is. I don’t imagine that this is like a domestic flight, due to customs, immigration, etc. for those people who are from out of the country. I’ll keep my fingers crossed since I can’t seem to find my keys, but I think I know where I packed them in my garment bag. But, I’m really not worried about that because I always have an extra car key in my wallet. But it would be nice to have a house key so I don’t have to break into my own house. No worry. Plus I think I packed my phone in my suitcase. Outside of that everything is fine. I guess that’s one of the advantages of being this age and retired. Who’s in a hurry? Not I.

Here we are at DFW. Just as I thought, we can’t get off the plane due to customs and immigration problems, so we are going to sit here, refuel, and wait for the weather to clear in Houston. The people I feel sorry for are the overseas visitors from other countries who have to make connections in Houston.

Made it back to Houston only 3½ hours late and have decided not to stay the night in a motel, but rather drive home to Lake Charles, 2½ hours away. Will make for another one of those 28 hour days, but I want to be in my own bed.
I’M HOME.


Shmuel ben Benyormin ha Kohan

Sam Schoolsky