Family Michalczyk?

Emailer Steve writes:

It's a fascinating blog, David.

I'm not Jewish, nor Polish, but in deciding to try and give my wife a 'family tree' as a surprise 50th birthday present next year I've been struck by all things Polish! I've even begun learning the language in the hope of a surprise visit next autumn.

I wondered whether you could ask on your blog if there are any Michalczyk's still living in or around Przemsyl?

My wife's father (Iwan Michalczyk) was born in Tarnawce, just outside Przemysl, but escaped to the UK during the war. All I know of him is that his father's name was Konstantego Michalczyk, that his mother died in childbirth (1918), and a stepmother died soon after in some sort of fire.

Thanks for any help you might generate, and keep up the good work with the blog.

Fundamentally Freund: From JPost

Blog-friend Michael Freund's JPost column on Jewish-Polish heritage:

Preserving Poland's Jewish heritage

By MICHAEL FREUND

Nearly 80 years ago this week, more than 10,000 Jews from across Poland gathered in Lublin for what would prove to be one of their last major festive events prior to the Holocaust.

With representatives of the Polish government and armed forces in attendance, as well as prominent rabbis and hassidic rebbes, the yeshiva Chachmei Lublin was formally inaugurated on June 24-25, 1930.

The massive five-story structure, which had its own mikve, bakery and dormitories, was situated on three acres of land and was headed by the renowned Rabbi Meir Shapiro, the visionary who created the daf yomi program of daily Talmud study.

The Lublin yeshiva was one of the jewels of Polish Jewry's network of great talmudic academies. It attracted students from as far away as Argentina and Palestine, and its demanding curriculum was aimed at producing graduates of the highest intellectual, spiritual and moral caliber.

Just nine years later, however, the German invasion forced the yeshiva to close its doors, and the Nazis turned it into the local headquarters for their military police. After World War II it was taken over by the Polish state and used by a medical academy, before being returned to the Jewish community in 2003.

VISITING THE BUILDING, which was recently refurbished and now houses the offices and synagogue of Lublin's small yet vibrant Jewish community, I walked through its halls in a state of awe tinged with sadness. It was easy to imagine how the large and spacious corridors were once filled with students with volumes of the Talmud tucked under their arms, or to visualize the fervent swaying of young worshipers in the throes of daily prayers.

But the noise and bustle is long gone, replaced instead by an eerie and unsettling silence.

Most of the yeshiva's students were murdered in the Holocaust, a point made even more chilling by the small exhibition of photographs on the building's second floor. One taken at the yeshiva's opening shows crowds of men gathered around the entrance, taking part in the extraordinary ceremonies. Looking at the image, it is unnerving to realize that most of those in it were probably consumed by the flames less than a decade later.

Nonetheless, despite the heartrending past which the building evokes, it continues to play a vital role in educating young Jews. On my visit, I saw a group of some 75 Jewish high-school girls from France touring the building. Many stopped to recite psalms in front of the holy ark, while others listened intently as a rabbi explained Polish Jewry's glorious history.

Had I paid better attention in my own high-school French classes, I might have been able to follow his remarks more closely, but it was clear from the group's serious demeanor that the experience was leaving its mark on them.

THIS BRIEF ENCOUNTER encapsulated for me just why it is so crucial that more be done to preserve key historical Jewish sites throughout Poland, both to keep alive the legacy of the past and to educate and inspire future generations of Jews and non-Jews.

According to Monika Krawczyk, CEO of the Warsaw-based Foundation for the Preservation of Jewish Heritage in Poland (www.fodz.pl), the country is home to more than 1,100 Jewish cemeteries, 200 former synagogues and numerous other sites.

Some of these have been remarkably refurbished, such as the yeshiva building in Lublin and the famous baroque-style synagogue in Lancut, but numerous others are in dire need of repair.

In other instances, many former synagogue buildings and important Jewish sites taken over by the authorities have been scoured of their Jewish past, with neither a plaque nor even a mention of the function they once served. This, of course, makes it far too easy for younger Poles to forget their country's history and the vital role that Jews once played there.

This can not be allowed to happen. We owe it to those who perished to do what we can to keep alive their memory and the memory of the communities in which they lived.

JUST THIS past week, on a visit to the southeastern city of Przemysl, I participated in a moving ceremony with precisely that aim. A memorial plaque in Polish, English and Hebrew was unveiled on the outside of a building that served as a synagogue for some of Przemysl's 20,000 Jews prior to the war, highlighting their contribution to the growth and development of the city.

At the ceremony, which was attended by Israel's new ambassador to Poland, Zvi Rav-Ner, as well as a representative of the US Consulate in Krakow, a member of the Polish parliament who hails from Przemysl told the crowd that he had not known about the extent of the Jewish presence in the area, or even that the building had been a shul.

And even though Jews constituted nearly 30% of the city's population before World War II, this modest little plaque constituted the first tangible and public reminder of their centuries-old presence. Hopefully, more such remembrances will follow.

Since an estimated 60-70% of Ashkenazi Jews trace their history back to Poland, this is an issue that touches on large swathes of Diaspora and Israeli Jewry.

There is a lot that can be done to correct the current situation, from pressing Polish authorities to return Jewish communal property to helping groups such as Krawczyk's foundation repair and restore various sites.

Either way, it is essential that we take action to right at least some of the wrongs done to our people. Obviously, we can't change the past. But we can - and must - do it justice.

Anna, a young woman in the photo

More from Anna on Przemysl during the war:

Thank you for trying to help me to find the fate of my dentist Mr. Rosenblueth and his family.

I explain to you my friendly connection with him. He attended to my teeth for a number of years, as I needed correction as a little girl of eight. I and my parents were very grateful to him and later we became friends. Unfortunately, when the Germans bombed Przemysl on 7th Sept.1939 his house was hit and burned to the ground. He only managed to save his skeleton dentist chair which he transported to my parents at Dworskiego for safe keeping.

I email Anna and asked her three questions. First, "In the photo, which one are you?"

1. I am in the photo Anna Switalska in the first row second from the left between my friend Dziunia Gottdank and Maria Jurasz. (see below)

Next, I asked, "Are you Jewish?"

2. I am Polish but I had many Jewish friends.

And finally, "How did you and your family survive the war?"

3. This is a long story. When the war started I was 15 and still a pupil at the secondary school, Gimnazjum Kupieckie at Dworskiego 25. The Russians occupied half of Przemysl up to the river San. They evicted us from our flat and we had to live for 2 whole years in the cellars while they have enjoyed living in our flat including the kitchen. They re-named the school Molotow which I attended for further 2 years. When the Germans invaded Przemysl in June 1941, the Russian fled and we were able to get back into our flat. The Germans re-named the school Hoehere Handels Fachschule which I continued to attend until matriculation.

Then suddenly my father broke his leg. The Germans did not allow to send an ambulance for Poles, so it took 3 hours to wait for a passing cart to take him to hospital with an open wound. There was only one Ukrainian doctor and no penicillin. My father got gangrene and died at the age of 60.

After his death my mother's family in Vienna arranged for my mother and me to join them. As a foreigner (born in Poland) I had to clear the streets of Vienna after bombing in order to receive ration cards for food. When the war ended I could not believe that I am still alive. Through the British Cross in Vienna I managed to trace my brother who was missing for 6 years. He fought the Germans in the South (Tobruk, Monte Cassino etc.) with the Polish Army under Gen. Anders. My mother and I went immediately to Innsbruck and went to the Polish Red Cross. We paid 10 Dollars each to be taken by foot at night through the Alps (Brenner Pass) over the border to Italy to join my brother. We met in Verona and then went to Cingolli where he was stationed. After a month he brought the message from his Headquarters that all Poles cannot return to Poland because the Russians are still there and half of Poland in Russia, but Britain allowed them to come and live in England with their families.

We traveled to Britain and I am still living here, married with two grown up sons. My husband and I visited Przemysl once and I still have some friends there and am corresponding with them.

She concluded her note with a question back to me, and to all of this blog's readers:

By the way, who sent you the photograph? Are any of my Jewish colleagues and friends in the photo still alive?

Warm regards, Anna.

Did any of the young Jewish students in the photo survive the holocaust? I don't know.

Your rent is due in Shekels!

I have been emailing with Michal in Israel. A thirty-something technologist working for a hi-tech start-up in Tel Aviv, Michal may well be the only Jewish property owner in Przemysl. Here are some excerpts from her email [my comments in brackets]:

As to the building, it's a 3 story structure just next to the synagogue, [the Scheinbach Synagogue on Słowackiego] My grandmother grew up there. It was in the possession of her grandmother, the David family, from, well, ever.

You need to know a bit about my parent's history. My parents were deported from Poland in 1969 and stripped of their Polish citizenship by the communist's government . After wandering in Europe for a year, the Jewish Agency converted my mother and they made Aliya to Israel.

In 2000 my parents and my brother received their Polish citizenship back and then I received mine. In the same year the Polish government said that Jewish family's that lived in Poland during the war and had their property confiscated by the government could bring proof of that and receive the property back.

So we did it. We went to the city council of Przemysl and found all the necessary pre-war documents. I'm now corresponding with a notary in Przemysl in order to transfer the ownership on my building from my father (who lives in Poland) to me. Since I have a Polish citizenship it's suppose to be quite easy - at list I hope so. [beware: the Communists are gone, not the bureaucrats]

The government divided the building into 12 (!) small apartments and the residents that live there have the special legal position of protected tenants. Well see what we're going to do about that... the Jews are back in town!!! [Put a mezuzah on the entry door!]

It's always a surprise to my friends in Israel that I have a non-Jewish side; it's not always popular here. I still have a large family all over Poland from my mothers side - good Catholics that I love. I even have family that lived in Germany and served in the Army during WWII. We have a very warm and loving on-going relationship.

Dr. Bethauer, a prominent Przemysl attorney, was murdered along with hundreds of others in the first wave of atrocities carried out by the Nazis during September, 1939. He is noted in the Sefer Przemysl.

Poles discover their Jewish roots

Adam Easton of BBC News has an interesting piece today on Poles re-discovering their Jewish roots. The story centers on Pawel, a young ex-skinhead who makes a starling discovery about his own background:

"A young person always needs to find an enemy and we found this enemy in Jews, blacks and Gypsies."

Six years ago, Pawel made a discovery that turned his life upside down - he found out that he was Jewish. His parents had turned their back on Jewish life and they had never told him about his background.

"When I looked into the mirror I asked myself: why should I be a Jew? It was the biggest shock of my life. It was really a huge blow. For most of my life I hated them. It was too much to take in at once."

Click HERE to read the whole story. Hat tip: Dr. Hartman.