Bonjour Kim et bienvenue dans le groupe,
I'm sure we have had some mail exchange last year or
something like that. Your name sounds familiar to me.
In July 1967, I was 11 years old and my parents and me
made a tour of Poland with the attention to launch a research of one sister to
my father. He thought she could have been living as during WWII she was hidden
by peasants and he received a letter from her in Auschwitz. We never found any
clue about her. We launched an appeal through the Polish radio with the help of
Red Cross without any success.
So, we went to Zychlin where my father found first a man
called Wipich (I don't guarantee the orthograph). This man knew my family very
well. My father knew a story about a Zychliner who converted to catholicism in
1933 and asked whether this man survived the war. He was alive and we went to see him in his farm. We met his son and then this man who
was around 82 years old at this time. Then began a strange show : my father was
talking to him in Polish and the old man was responding to my father in Yiddish.
He explained that he hided in the forest near the village while his wife for
whom he converted him to be catholic), stayed in the farm. The Nazis learned
about the conversion of this man and went to farm and asked the woman when did
he change religion. Instead of answering 1933 in German, she told 1913. The
Nazis left it up and went away. That's why this man survived the war. This
conversation with my father took place in July '67, one month after the 6 days
war, can you imagine our surprise when the old man told my father in
yiddish : "we cannot say anymore Next Year in Jerusalem !". I must add one
comment to this story : when this man was young, and just married the catholic
girl, my grandfather used to mock him, telling him in Yiddish : Why did you
marry the ugliest young lady in the town. This man used to answer him in Polish
to leave it up. We also met a lady whose father was the
landlord of the house where lived my grandparents.
In 1995, my father wanted to show Auschwitz and Zychlin to
his 3 grandchildren, my brother's children. I joined the team and we went again
to Zychlin. We met again the landlord's daughter who was a retired geography
teacher. She was happy to meet us again. It was very moving as she found the
children looking like one sister of my father and my father as a small boy. I
was moved because we have not any photograph of my Wrobel family before
WWII.
C'est tout pour aujourd'hui.
Shabat shalom.
Suzy