• About
  • The Photo that Started it All

Uncovering Jewish Heritage

Uncovering Jewish Heritage

Category Archives: Memory

Running for Ronnie

31 Saturday Oct 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Family, Memory

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

All Saints Day, New York City Marathon, Ron Galbraith

Ron was my big brother, my role model, and my friend. He was five years older than me—old enough to be the teacher in our imaginary school and the inventor of the neighborhood paper, but close enough in age to get down on the floor and play with me.

Ron during the summer of 1991, the last time I saw him.

Ron during the summer of 1991, the last time I saw him.

We sometimes called him a gentle giant. It wasn’t because of his weight—even though at one point he was well over 250 pounds—but because he was 6’ 4” with broad shoulders like a linebacker. And yet, he was the gentlest soul. After an explosive childhood, he stopped getting angry sometime around age twelve. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of history, music, and movies. He loved watching football on TV but never played any sports himself.

He started jogging before he left home. I can’t remember if he was in high school or already in college. I think he was in college. It was part of his plan for losing weight. At first, he was too shy to run outside so instead, he would jog in place inside the house. Eventually, he became an outdoor runner, and after moving to New York City, he started running in races. He decided that before his 30th birthday, he would run in the New York City Marathon. He didn’t quite make that deadline, but he did run it in 1989 when he was 31. He got in again the next year, but couldn’t participate because of a running injury. A month later, he died in a stupid, freak accident.

Ron's medal for completing the 1989 New York City Marathon.

Ron’s medal for completing the 1989 New York City Marathon.

1989RonMarathonMedal1

Losing Ronnie was and continues to be the most painful experience of my life. It’s when I confronted mortality personally, viscerally, emotionally for the first time. I lost a part of myself. I don’t think you ever get over that kind of grief. You just get used to it. You get used to the fact that the unimaginable has occurred and it can’t be undone.

Ron has remained an important person to me even after his death, and nowhere more so than when I run. I’ve often felt that he’s running there alongside me, a gentle supportive companion. I started doing races myself sometime in my 30s, but had no interest in ever doing a marathon. Until one day about five years ago I had a vision of running with Ron through the streets of New York City. And suddenly it made sense to try and sign up for my first marathon. But getting into the NYC Marathon isn’t easy. Either you have to be faster than I’ll ever be, or raise thousands of dollars for charity, or win an entry in the lottery. After four years of trying through the lottery, I got in in 2014 but had to postpone because of my trip to Poland. So here I am, finally about to run in the New York City Marathon.

I didn’t expect them, but walking from Penn Station to the Javitz Center to pick up my bib number today, there they were. Those raw emotions—love and grief intertwined with the excitement of the upcoming race. And there I was, bawling on 34th Street.

It’s fitting that the marathon is on November 1st this year, All Saints Day. It’s one of my favorite holidays in Poland, the day to remember the spirits of those who have left us. The day to visit the cemetery, clean the graves and decorate them with flowers and candle lanterns. I’m sure the cemeteries are already glowing with candlelight at night. I won’t clean graves or light candles this year. But I will run with my big brother as my companion, together with 50,000 other people, through the streets of New York City.

Hints and Memories

13 Tuesday Oct 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Family, Memory

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Maria Bereda(y) Galbraith

Going through boxes of hastily collected papers from Mom’s house I find so many unwritten cards. Sympathy cards: “Thinking of You. I know you’ll make it through this.” A Thomas the Tank Engine birthday card: “Peep-peep grandson!” I like to think that one was meant for Ian… There are also postcards: Salvadore Dali’s “Portrait of Gala;” two views of the Biltmore House; a café scene in New Orleans; the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. I find random addresses of people I don’t know, torn off envelopes, Three envelopes with “Maria” written on them in my dad’s hand—but they’re empty; his cards are missing. How do I dispose of this stuff? But why would I keep it?

I hold on to the memories they evoke. The bits of my mom’s story they signal. Mama liked to send cards. She always took the trouble to include a personal note.

I seem to recall she and my dad went to the Biltmore Estate on their way to Texas once. This might have been in December 1991 since I also found an unfinished Christmas card to my friends Kara and Bob and their daughters Paula and Maria (yes, she was named after my mother) with the heading “Austin, Texas December 16, 1991.” Mom wrote:

We arrived by car yesterday at 5 PM. It was an exhausting trip but we are happy to visit with our son Chris. We stopped in Virginia and drove through the Skyline Drive with the Blue Ridge Mountains all around us. A heavy rain stopped and there was no one on the road.

It stops there. Why didn’t she finish the letter? Why didn’t she send it? Maybe she lost track of it? Or couldn’t find the address?

“Return to sender, Addressee deceased” is stamped on the envelope of a letter to Dr. Gustave Aufricht, M.D.,. This was probably Mama’s plastic surgeon. Inside is a Christmas card “May the spirit of Christmas abide with you throughout the new year” and in her hand the note “Sincerest wishes from your devoted patient.” On the website of the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, Dr. Aufricht is described as a founder of the society:

Two Founding Fathers

Like most great American institutions, the American Society of Plastic Surgeons (ASPS) — known until 1999 as the American Society of Plastic and Reconstructive Surgeons (ASPRS) — developed mainly through the sweat and toil of immigrants. In this case, it was two surgeons from Europe who came to the United States after World War I, Jacques Maliniac and Gustave Aufricht.

The two doctors were as unalike as any two men could be, except for their dedication to their craft. Despite his French-sounding name, Dr. Maliniac was born in 1889 in Warsaw, Poland. After studying with the leading plastic surgeons on the continent before the war, he was called into the Russian Army at the outbreak of hostilities. A small, intense man, Dr. Maliniac, who was Jewish, came to the United States in 1923 and decided to stay as anti-Semitism was on the rise in Europe in the 1920s. Settling in New York City in 1925, he opened a thriving private practice, and convinced the administrators of the City Hospital system to establish the first division of plastic surgery at a public hospital.

Dr. Aufricht, born in 1894, was a native of Budapest, Hungary. Like Dr. Maliniac, he treated wounded soldiers during the war, studied with the leading practitioners in Europe and arrived in New York in 1923. And like Dr. Maliniac, he was Jewish and decided to stay here when things became inhospitable in the Old World. However, the similarities ended there.

Where Dr. Maliniac was considered bombastic and dictatorial with his students and residents, Dr. Aufricht, who went by the nickname “Gusti,” was genial and outgoing, but no less a commanding figure, loved and revered by his charges.

Interesting that Mama sent her Jewish doctor a Christmas card. Did she know his religion? The card was postmarked December 1981. If she was his patient around 1950, she probably sent cards to him for 30 years.

Another card was written by my friend Kimmy, thanking Mama after a visit in 1981. Kim also asks for my address at school so it must have been sent in the fall, soon after I started college. Jumping forward again, I find a postcard from me, written from Poland. This one was also written around Christmastime so it must have been 1991:

A postcard I found in Poland and sent home, probably in 1991.

A postcard I sent from Poland, probably in 1991.

Dear Chris, Mom, & Pop, The Happiest of holidays to you all. I hope you find some snow somewhere. Sorry I can’t be with you but know I’m thinking about you. Can you believe I found this card in Poland? Love, Marysia

In the living room on Long Island, probably Christmastime 1991

In the living room on Long Island, probably Christmastime 1991

And then this photo of Mama and Babcia on the couch in the living room at home. The tree and ornament in the left foreground signal it was around Christmas, also. Mama is in silhouette, eyes downcast. She appears to be spooning something out of a mug to give to Babcia, who is leaning toward her with closed eyes. Or maybe the camera just caught her blinking? She is bundled up in a down jacket and a blanket, like a child. When was this? Near the very end of Babcia’s life. Could it also be 1991? Maybe Mom and Dad returned from Texas before the holiday? It’s so rare that I have seen photos of my Mama and Babcia together. There seems to be so much tenderness in my mother’s attention, as if in this moment of caring all the tension between them dissolved.

Memory in Fragments: Reassembling Jewish Life in Poland

03 Thursday Sep 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Anthropology, Heritage work, Jewish Culture, Memory, Poland, Polish-Jewish Heritage, Polish-Jewish relations

≈ Leave a comment

A summary of Dr. Marysia Galbraith’s year as a Fulbright Scholar in Poznan, Poland

September 3, 2015

Lloyd Hall 319

6:00 p.m.

Dr. Galbraith will also answer questions about the Fulbright Program and fellowship opportunities.

Former synagogue in Buk, Poland

Former synagogue in Buk, Poland

My research on Jewish heritage asks what can be done with the fragments of Jewish culture that remain in Poland, sometimes hidden and sometimes in plain sight? And what value does such memory work have? I explore these questions on two levels: the social level where I focus on what is actually being done with physical traces of Jewish culture in the absence of living Jewish communities, and on the personal level via the archeology of my own hidden Jewish ancestry. These fragments can reveal something about the past, even if it is just in an incomplete and shattered form. And they can point toward the future—the possibilities that might emerge out of traces of memory.

Life and Death in Poland

03 Thursday Sep 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Identity, Israel, Jewish Culture, Memory, Warsaw

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Embodiment, Israeli youth voyages to Poland, Jackie Feldman

One of the things I like about the blog format is that it is episodic. A flash of vision or memory appears from nowhere, and then stays around for a while. I can examine it for a while, tossing it around in my mind until its outlines grow more clear. Rarely does it unfold chronologically. So here it is September in Alabama, six months and half a world away from my trip to Israel, and yet Israel is what I have on my mind.FeldmanAbove

A big part of it is that I just finished Jackie Feldman’s book about Israeli youth voyages to Poland. Each year, thousands of Israeli youth participate in organized trips to Poland to visit the death camps and to connect more strongly with their Israeli national identity. Feldman shows how the voyages (because that’s what the trips are called) reinforce a particular narrative dividing Jewish history into three epochs: Antiquity, Exile, and Zionist settlement of the Land of Israel (p. 12). Antiquity refers to the period of sovereignty of the Isrealite kingdom. A narrative of the other two epochs plays out on the voyages—from suffering and persecution in Europe during the long period of Exile culminating in the Holocaust, to revival of Jewish national life in the contemporary state of Israel. As such, Poland represents oppression and death in Exile, while Israel represents freedom and life in the homeland.

Feldman argues that these trips, most of which are subsidized by the Israeli government, are akin to pilgrimages—a journey to a sacred place involving a break from everyday social lives and hierarchies into a liminal space filled with intense physical and emotional experiences as well as transmission of cultural, symbolic knowledge. Pilgrims return transformed, ready to reintegrate into society, but in a new social status (in this case, they transform from youths to adults and ambassadors of the lessons learned about their Jewish heritage and Israeli citizenship). I like Feldman’s book because he effectively shows how this transformation is fueled primarily by emotion and sensation—through the body—more than through cognition and learning. This is consistent with my own observations on a Polish pilgrimage to Częstochowa many years ago.

Muranów, Warsaw

Muranów, Warsaw

The book also brings home to me another thing I have observed: that the symbolic significance of Poland is quite different for me than it is for most Jews I have met. So are the emotional associations. Many Jews view Poland both symbolically and materially as a vast killing ground and graveyard. I have felt this myself, especially in places like Muranów in Warsaw, the prewar Jewish quarter that was at the heart of the Jewish ghetto during World War II. When the district was rebuilt in the postwar period, the rubble heaps (doubtless containing the bodies of victims) were left in place and new buildings were built right on top of them. This has created a district that is jarringly pleasant. The raised terraces break up the mostly flat city terrain creating intimate interior courtyards and slopes for lush gardens. But knowing the district’s history, it is hard to not feel uneasy about walking on the victims of the Holocaust.

Muranów, Warsaw

Muranów, Warsaw

Still, for me, Poland is the lost homeland of my mother—a place she mythologized and longed for. These associations were also tragic, because she knew return was not possible. But no doubt that also contributed to the magic. As an imagined place, Poland did not need to accommodate the harsh realities of postwar devastation or state socialism–or the Holocaust. And also, I’ve built my own memories of Poland over the past 25 years. I’ve witnessed the country’s “colorization” as it evolved from state socialist greyness into consumer-fueled color. My time there has always been marked as “special,” separate from the humdrum of everyday life. It’s become a second home to me. Marked as it is by my use of a second language, I also visit another version of myself in Poland, the Polish-speaking one, the foreigner, but also the native daughter returning to the homeland. In short, unlike the Israeli voyagers (for whom Poland represents death and Israel life), I return to life in Poland. Life in the face of displacement and death, perhaps even in defiance of that difficult history.

I thought I was going to write a description of my visit to Israel, but this has turned into a more reflective piece about place and identity. I’ll have to get to my memories of Israel next time.

Island of remembrance: the Jewish cemetery in Piła

21 Tuesday Jul 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Cemeteries, Heritage work, Memory, Piła

≈ Leave a comment

A fragment of the lecture I gave at the unveiling of the monument at the 17th century Jewish cemetery in Piła on June 2, 2015, translated into English:

Monument commemorating the Jewish cemetery in Piła

Monument commemorating the Jewish cemetery in Piła

What can be communicated through objects, and often just fragments of objects? What value do the broken mementos of the past have? Material remains of history can seem more and more distant from us. Preoccupied with our daily concerns, we rarely think them. The fragment of the Jewish cemetery in Piła, destroyed during the war, reminds us of earlier times of prosperity and peaceful coexistence among the city’s residents; it simultaneously reminds us of events that even today inspire anguish and opposition. It is understandable why people might try to forget painful memories. It might seem easier to look toward the future instead of back at the past. But reality is not so simple. Something connects us to the past, especially to tragic memories. They function below the level of consciousness and influence us in spite of our desire to forget.

A monument like this one on the remaining fragment of the Jewish cemetery in Piła is an expression not only of respect for the people buried in this place, but also a tool for focusing attention on what used to be. That life will never return, but recognizing its passage can serve as a reminder and a warning. A monument can help us establish a connection with the past and also with the future. It is impossible to think of the future without also thinking about the past. A monument invites us to learn about the history of this city and its residents. It encourages us to reflect on what remains—a fragment of the cemetery wall and several preserved tombstones. We can also have a dialog with nature as we stand under the oldest trees that were witnesses of the history of this place. This island of remembrance helps us connect with our humanity; it makes Piła a more beautiful city and its contemporary citizens better people. Standing in the preserved fragment of the cemetery, we remember all of the former residents of Piła who, like us, had their worries and dreams. From these memories, hope for a better future can emerge.

DSC06457

It is worth getting to know and understand what came before us so that we can understand ourselves better. The way we treat the tangible and intangible fragments of the city’s past communicates to those we associate with everyday, and to those who watch us from afar, including those who seek their own identity and roots.

When we listen to what fragments of the past have to tell us, the past comes alive. Fragments speak to us regardless of whether we try to remember or forget them. Although memories can cause us pain, the absence of memory can also wound us. This can happen when we close ourselves from the past and we don’t want to understand it. That is why it is better to remember and to try to understand the past as well as its influence on us. That is the only way we can heal the trauma of the horrors that transformed this place and so many other places like it.

Marked by a monument, this space functions differently than it did without the monument. The monument fills, however incompletely, the void left behind by loss. Left empty, the void could be interpreted as indifference, disrespect, and even a sign of hatred. A monument inspires memory work and contemplation. The cemetery has been returned to the map of the city and to the consciousness of its residents. It is once again a place for focusing on the experience of loss, and simultaneously on respect for the phenomenon of life. We are not alone. We share common feelings. Memory brings us closer to each other, making us a community despite our differences.

This translation is a little different from the Polish text. Even translating my own writing, some things are easier to express in one language than the other.

Wyspa pamięci

28 Thursday May 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Cemeteries, Heritage work, Memory, Piła

≈ 1 Comment

Here is an essay I prepared for the unveiling of a monument commemorating the 17th century jewish cemetery in Piła. It is part of a lecture I will give at the ceremony. Special thanks to Janusz Marciniak for his expert editing.

Monument to Piła Jews who died in World War I. Archival photo. http://www.kirkuty.xip.pl/pila.htm

Monument to Piła Jews who died in World War I. Archival photo. http://www.kirkuty.xip.pl/pila.htm

Co mówią przedmioty, a częściej już tylko fragmenty przedmiotów – okaleczone pamiątki z przeszłości? Jaką wartość mają resztki dawnego świata, materialne okruchy historii, która wydaje się nam coraz bardziej odległa i o której nie myślimy zbyt często z powodu naszych współczesnych trosk? Fragment zniszczonego w czasie wojny cmentarza żydowskiego przypomina nam o czasach pomyślności i harmonijnej koegzystencji mieszkańców Piły i jednocześnie o wydarzeniach, które jeszcze dziś budzą w nas trwogę i sprzeciw. Niepamięć można zrozumieć, bo pamięć bywa bolesna. Łatwiej patrzeć w przyszłość niż w przeszłość. Jednak rzeczywistość nie jest taka prosta. Coś nas łączy z przeszłością, szczególnie z tą tragiczną. Pamięć o niej działa w naszej podświadomości i ma na nas wpływ niezależnie od naszej woli.

One of the few traces remaining today--a fragment of the wall surrounding the Jewish Cemetery wall, Piła

One of the few traces remaining today–a fragment of the wall surrounding the Jewish Cemetery wall, Piła

Pomnik, taki jak ten na ocalonym fragmencie cmentarza żydowskiego w Pile, jest nie tylko wyrazem szacunku dla ludzi pochowanych w tym miejscu, lecz także narzędziem skupiania uwagi na tym, co było kiedyś i co już nie wróci, ale co teraz może służyć jako memento, ostrzeżenie, upomnienie i przestroga. Pomnik może nam pomagać w zachowaniu więzi z przeszłością i także z przyszłością. Nie można myśleć o przyszłości bez myślenia o przeszłości. Pomnik zachęca do poznania historii miasta i jego mieszkańców. Skłania do reflekcji nad fragmentem cmentarnego muru i kilkoma ocalonymi macewami. Prowadzi dialog z tym wszystkim, co pozostało z cmentarza. Także dialog z naturą, a zwłaszcza z najstarszymi drzewami, które są świadkami historii tego miejsca. Pomnik łączy ocalone fragmenty w większą całość i tworzy z nimi wyspę pamięci w centrum miasta. Ta wyspa pamięci uzmysławia nam stan naszej ludzkiej wrażliwości i czyni Piłę piękniejszym miastem, a jej dzisiejszych mieszkańców lepszymi ludźmi. Stojąc na zachowanym fragmencie cmentarza, wspominamy wszystkich mieszkańców dawnej Piły, którzy – tak jak my – mieli swoje troski i marzenia. Pamięć o nich może być źródłem dobra i nadziei.

Foundation of the monument, December 2014

Foundation of the monument, December 2014

Warto poznać i zrozumieć to, co było przed nami, żeby lepiej zrozumieć siebie. Sposób traktowania materialnych i niematerialnych fragmentów przeszłości miasta ma znaczenie dla tych, którzy obcują z nimi na co dzień, i dla tych, którzy patrzą na nie z daleka. Ważną grupą zainteresowanych przeszłością są ci, którzy szukają swojej tożsamości i korzeni.

Postcard with the synagogue on the left. Piła was in the Prussian partition of Poland, and was also known as Schneidemühl.

Postcard with the synagogue on the left. Piła was in the Prussian partition of Poland, and was also known as Schneidemühl.

Book with photo of the synagogue on the cover held to show the approximate location of the  synagogue until it was destroyed in the Kristallnacht in 1938.

Book (History of the Jewish Community of Schneidemuhl– 1641 to the Holocaust by Peter Simonstein Cullman) with photo of the synagogue on the cover held to show the approximate location of the synagogue until it was destroyed in the Kristallnacht in 1938.

Kiedy słuchamy tego, co mówią do nas fragmenty przeszłości, to przeszłość ożywa. Fragmenty mówią do nas niezależnie od tego czy staramy się zapomnieć, czy pamiętać o niej. Czasami cudza niepamięć nas rani i zdarza się, że własna pamięć sprawia nam ból. Jest tak, kiedy zamykamy się przed przeszłością i nie chcemy jej zrozumieć. Dlatego lepiej pamiętać i starać się zrozumieć przeszłość oraz jej wpływ na nas. Tylko tak można leczyć traumę.

Inaczej wygląda i działa miejsce z pomnikiem niż bez pomnika. Pomnik wypełnia pustkę po stracie. Pustka może być interpretowana jako obojętność, brak szacunku, a nawet znak nienawiści. Pomnik zaś inspiruje do pracy pamięci i kontemplacji. Cmentarz wrócił na mapę miasta i do świadomości jego mieszkańców. Jest znowu miejscem skupienia i przeżywania straty, a równocześnie szacunku dla fenomenu życia. Nie jesteśmy sami. Odczuwamy znaczenie pamięci podobnie. Pamięć nas zbliża. Dzięki niej stanowimy wspólnotę, chociaż jesteśmy różni. Pamięć sprawia, że różnice nas nie dzielą, lecz łączą. Pamięć staje się podstawą nowych więzi społecznych.

I will post a photo of the completed monument after the unveiling on Tuesday, June 2.

Difficult memories

10 Sunday May 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Archives, Memory, Poland, World War II

≈ 4 Comments

I spent two days at the archive of the Institute of National Memory, reading reports about crimes committed during World War II. Witnesses filled out these forms in the late 1960s and early 1970s, so they were recalling events that occurred thirty years earlier. Different forms were used to document different offenses: repression of the Jewish population before the creation of the ghettos, persecution and extermination of intelligentsia, repression of the Gypsy people, roundups, arrests, prison and arrest, executions, resettlement, ghettos, camps, looting and destroying cultural goods, and help given by Poles to exterminated and persecuted Polish citizens of Jewish descent and other nationalities as well as citizens of other countries. These categories overlap, so sometimes forced labor is reported on the “resettlement” form, while in other cases the “camp” form is used. There are thousands of pages of these testimonies in the archive. I have only requested the ones from towns I have visited: places like Ustrzyki Dolne and Lesko, Żychlin and Kutno.

This is hard material to take in more than small doses. Page after page outlines the dehumanizing conditions Polish citizens were subjected to. The forms illustrate a certain asymmetry of experience. The ultimate fate of most Jews was death, as described on the forms for repression, execution, and ghettos. Most Jews were murdered because they were Jews. There is also an asymmetry of memory: those murders tend to be documented in large, even numbers—4,000, 6,000, 20,000 Jews passed through the Kutno ghetto on their way to the death camps.

Some records are more specific, including the names of 181 Jews who were taken to the Jewish cemetery in Żychlin on March 2, 1942, the day before the liquidation of the ghetto. Then they were shot and buried in shallow mass graves. The names of the five officers who shot them are also listed. Among the victims, #22 is Lajb Białak, age 38, trader; #59 is Hersz Klinger, age 39, shoemaker; #88-92 are Abram (48), Iojne (44), Rywen (16), Sura (14), and Bajla (12) Borensztajn. They may well have been a family. #159, Estera Rajch (62), trader, has the same last name as my great great grandmother, Liba Rajch who was born in 1829 in nearby Kutno.

In Ustrzyki Dolne, several witnesses report the shooting of 100 Jews rounded up from nearby villages and shot by a single SS officer. Only two Jews survived. Szternbach was a dentist who changed his name to Edward Stańkowski and moved to Szczecin, a city at the other corner of Poland. The other, named Szrecher (did they mean Szprecher?), moved to the United States.

More Poles survived and are named in these records, but the accounts also attest to the inhuman treatment to which they were subjected. Reading page after page of testimony gives me a visceral understanding why it would have been so hard for most to offer help to Jews. It doesn’t justify deliberate acts of prejudice and hatred, but it does help to explain what likely prevented more direct assistance. Poles were ordered to leave their homes with hardly any notice, then moved to poorer quarters on other streets or in different towns. Most of their property was taken from them. All they were allowed to bring with them was a pair of underwear, or a spoon and bowl. The luckier ones were told to pack a few days food or a change of clothes and some bedding. Thousands were transported to forced labor throughout the Third Reich. So many were put to work digging ditches. The pages of testimony don’t specify why but I can only imagine that these were in many cases death pits for murdered Jews. Others worked in gardens, factories, or on railroad tracks.

Poles were usually arrested for specific activities: illegal sale of food, making vodka, killing a pig, taking two ration cards, crossing borders, or avoiding work. Most often these offenses resulted in imprisonment or forced labor but sentences were unpredictable. Jan Tobolczyk, “a teacher and a good Pole,” was beaten for not admitting to being a witness of a Pole beating a German. He was sent to Dachau where he was killed. Poles were imprisoned, hanged, or shot for offenses like conspiracy, hiding arms, hiding people, or sabotage. Those caught hiding Jews were killed. Many of those documented on the “persecution and extermination of intelligentsia” form were arrested simply because they were priests; many were sent to Dachau where they were gassed, though some survived imprisonment.

Three railroad workers, Piotr Sand, Kolikst Perkowski, and Wilhelm Czarnewski, were hung in the Old Market Square in Kutno for transporting food to Warsaw. One witness said they were engaged in “illegal trade,” another said they were “transporting food for soldiers.” This happened on July 12, 1940, or perhaps at the end of May 1941. Many witnesses reported this incident. One explained that residents were forced to come at a designated time to watch the execution. The bodies hung all day, guarded by Germans. They were taken down at night and moved to an unknown location.

The accumulation of cases brings home how little Poles’ lives mattered to the occupier, and how easily and unpredictably they were imprisoned, relocated, or killed. These accounts document the inaccuracy, or at least the incompleteness of the claim that most Poles just stood by while the Holocaust happened. Many were preoccupied with the struggle for their own survival. And years later, many felt compelled to leave a public record of what they witnessed.

Remembering the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, April 19-May 16 1943

19 Sunday Apr 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Memory, World War II

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Travel with cousin Krysia, Warsaw Ghetto Uprising

Today marks the 72nd anniversary of the beginning of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. This was largest armed resistance of Jews against the Nazis. Fighting lasted nearly a month despite the overpowering force of the Nazis in relation to the sparsely armed Jewish insurgents.

Here is Paul Robeson singing the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising song in Yiddish at a concert in Moscow in 1949:

Robeson’s rich voice communicates to me the pride and bravery of those who rose up against their oppressor. It captures a sense of determination as well as melancholy, as if the fighting was deemed both necessary and doomed.

This short of the film To Live and Die with Honor: The Story of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising gives a brief outline of events:

The video starts with incredible images of the burning ghetto viewed from outside the wall surrounding it. The narrative is a bit heavy handed, but I can’t help feeling that the resistance fighters deserve to be remembered for their heroism. The video also challenges the common perception that Jews went passively to their death in the Holocaust.

Two years ago, my cousin Krysia and I were in Poland beginning our search for traces of our Jewish relatives. We visited the Jewish Historical Institute in Warsaw just three days after the 70th anniversary, and met a child survivor of the Holocaust. I don’t remember her name, but I’m sure Krysia does. We walked together from Tłomackie Street to the Old City, sharing our stories. Again, I don’t remember the details, but as she described learning (I think later in life) about being adopted and raised in the US after her parents died in the Holocaust I could feel the pain and bewilderment these recollections evoked. When we got to Freta Street in what’s called the New Town (because it’s couple hundred years younger than the medieval Old Town), Krysia and I were drawn into our own family history and following our parents’ footsteps to their home on the Vistula. Before we realized what was happening, our companion had vanished. We looked but didn’t find her again. Krysia tried getting in touch with her later, but I don’t think she got much of a response.

World War II memories and associated emotions remain so real. Especially for witnesses like the woman we met in Warsaw, and witnesses of witnesses like Krysia and me.

I’ve just learned how to embed video into a post, so here is one more worth looking at:

912 Days of the Warsaw Ghetto contains striking footage of the city before and during World War II. I try to imagine my mother on these streets when, as the narrator says, “War may have been coming ever closer but it was nevertheless quite distant.” And then, how her life changed once war broke out.

Jewish heritage in Poland: Remembered pasts and imagined futures

17 Friday Apr 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Anthropology, Heritage work, Memory, Polish-Jewish Heritage, Research Methodology

≈ 3 Comments

Here is a brief summary of my research project in Poland:

My research on Jewish heritage asks what can be done with the fragments of Jewish culture that remain in Poland, sometimes hidden and sometimes in plain sight? And what value does such memory work have? It might appear that too little is left, or that any attempt to piece together fragments will just expose more horror, trauma, and death. After all, Poland’s numerous and diverse Jewish communities were destroyed in the Holocaust. The few survivors who returned after World War II were made to feel unwelcome by inhospitable neighbors and a political regime that demonized them. By 1968, nearly no Jews were left in Poland. A collective amnesia erased most remaining traces of Poland’s Jews. Physical reminders were torn down or repurposed, and even memories were pushed out of consciousness or silenced. Can anything be gained by revisiting all that has been lost?

I explore these questions on two levels. First, on the social level, I focus on what is actually being done with physical traces of Jewish culture. I have visited Jewish cemeteries and synagogues, including the places where no marker is left of their location. I have also gone to places where active memory work is being done, including commemorative monuments and websites. I have viewed museums and archives where some materials and records are collected. I have talked with curators, artists, historians, and others who engage with the objects of Jewish memory in various ways. From these explorations, it is clear that the silence surrounding Jewish culture in Poland has been challenged at least since the Solidarity period at the beginning of the 1980s, when rediscovering Poland’s historical ethnic and religious diversity was a way of protesting state socialist nationalism which limited all kinds of expressions of difference and freedom. The steady growth of interest in Jewish culture in Poland has been manifested most recently in major projects like Warsaw’s new Polin Museum of the History of Polish Jews, but also in much quieter ways in smaller communities all over Poland. I use ethnographic methods to examine the ways contemporary memory projects piece together the fragments of Jewish memory. If you know where to look, fragments of Jewish lives (and deaths) can be found even where whole Jewish communities and their most visible elements like synagogues and cemeteries have been destroyed. These fragments can reveal something about the past, even if it is just in an incomplete and shattered form. And they can point toward the future—the possibilities that might emerge out of traces of memory.

Second, I explore the fragments of Jewish culture on the personal level. Central to this is the archeology of my own hidden Jewish ancestry. I have dug up secret family photographs, pieced together the memories of living relatives, sifted through numerous archives and online records, and finally I discovered extended family I never knew I had—in Israel, the United States, and Europe. But not in Poland, where only scattered hints of my ancestors’ lives remain. In addition to tracing my own family history, I have been gathering the flashes of memory held by witnesses (and others who like me are witnesses of witnesses), as well as the efforts of contemporary Jews to revive the practice of Jewish culture and religion in Poland.

Nunia on a camel

10 Friday Apr 2015

Posted by Marysia Galbraith in Family, Memory

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Israel, Maria Weglinska

Nunia on a camel in 1972 at about age 86

Nunia on a camel in 1972 at about age 86

When Nunia was in her mid-80s, she went to Israel. I remember my mom’s wonderment as she described Nunia’s continued vitality. The image that proved it is a photo of Nunia perched upon a camel. The photo is stamped 1973, but cousin Yvonne in Israel remembers showing Nunia around Jerusalem in 1972. Back then, the date in the white edge of photos specified when the prints were made, so maybe Nunia didn’t develop the film right away.

Another camel photo.

Another camel photo, printed in January 1973. Yvonne says these photos were taken near the Dead Sea.

Nunia made an impression on the Israeli cousins, too. She kept a very busy schedule during her visit. When asked about it, she responded, “I can rest when I die.”

I don’t remember any mention of Israel when anyone talked about the trip. Rather, I remember being told Nunia went to Egypt. I was only nine at the time, so maybe I misremember, but my brother Chris remembers this, too. He says even then it seemed odd to him that she went to Egypt and yet there were no photos of the pyramids. Could this have been another instance of hiding the family Jewish connection? If so, it was a bizarre way to do so. Why not just say she went to “the Holy Land,” a common way Christians refer to Israel? I can’t help questioning my memory here—could I have been told she went to the Holy Land, but Egypt stuck in my nine-year-old head because it is the place I associated with camels and desert (and pyramids, which as Chris said were not in the photo)?

One thing I know for sure. I was never told Nunia went to visit family. I feel a deep sense of loss about this, especially since meeting my Israeli family. I’m also deeply embarrassed.

Could this be the Tel Aviv airport?

Could this be the Tel Aviv airport?

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Categories

  • Anthropology (38)
    • Archives (14)
    • Fieldwork (7)
    • Ground Penetrating Radar (GPR (5)
    • Research Methodology (8)
  • antisemitism (14)
  • Association of Descendants of Jewish Central Poland (36)
  • Catholicism (8)
  • Conference (1)
  • Discrimination (2)
  • Family (70)
    • Bereda (18)
    • Kolski (13)
    • Piwko (22)
    • Rotblit (3)
    • Walfisz (4)
    • Winawer (7)
  • Genealogy (11)
  • Heritage work (70)
    • Commemoration (24)
  • Identity (18)
  • Israel (6)
  • Jewish Culture (93)
    • Cemeteries (55)
    • Museum (8)
    • Synagogues (34)
    • Torah (1)
  • Jewish immigrants (8)
  • Jewish Religion (1)
  • Memory (73)
  • Names (14)
  • Photographs (6)
  • Pifko-Winawer Circle (5)
  • Poland (131)
    • Baligród (1)
    • Bolimów (1)
    • Brześć Kujawski (5)
    • Buk (1)
    • Chodecz (1)
    • Dukla (2)
    • Dąbrowice (1)
    • Gdynia (1)
    • Gostynin (3)
    • Gąbin (1)
    • Izbica Kujawska (1)
    • Kazimierz (4)
    • Kowal (1)
    • Koło (1)
    • Krakow (7)
    • Krośniewice (1)
    • Kutno (9)
    • Kłodawa (1)
    • Lesko (8)
    • Leszno (1)
    • Lubień Kujawski (1)
    • Lubraniec (1)
    • Lutowiska (3)
    • Piła (3)
    • Podgórze (2)
    • Poznan (11)
    • Przemyśl (2)
    • Pzedecz (1)
    • Radom (1)
    • Radymno (1)
    • Sanok (1)
    • Skierniewice (5)
    • Sobota (2)
    • Tarnów (2)
    • Warsaw (23)
    • Wielkopolska (1)
    • Wronki (7)
    • Włocławek (20)
    • Zasław (2)
    • Łódź (1)
    • Żychlin (33)
  • Polish Culture (10)
  • Polish-Jewish Heritage (60)
  • Polish-Jewish relations (61)
  • Post-World War II (24)
  • Pre-World War II (22)
  • Reclaimed Property (1)
  • stereotypes (3)
  • Survival (9)
  • Trauma (3)
  • Uncategorized (5)
  • Victims and perpetrators (4)
  • World War II (47)
    • Jewish Ghetto (12)
    • Nazi Camps (6)
    • Polish Underground Army (3)
  • Yiddish (5)

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Your email address will not be shared.

Archives

  • June 2026 (5)
  • May 2026 (1)
  • October 2025 (1)
  • July 2025 (8)
  • June 2025 (1)
  • April 2025 (1)
  • August 2024 (3)
  • July 2024 (3)
  • May 2024 (2)
  • April 2024 (1)
  • May 2023 (2)
  • January 2023 (2)
  • December 2022 (7)
  • November 2022 (2)
  • October 2022 (5)
  • September 2022 (1)
  • January 2022 (1)
  • August 2021 (1)
  • December 2020 (2)
  • July 2020 (1)
  • May 2020 (3)
  • April 2020 (1)
  • March 2020 (1)
  • January 2020 (2)
  • May 2019 (1)
  • February 2019 (1)
  • November 2018 (1)
  • September 2018 (1)
  • August 2018 (3)
  • July 2018 (1)
  • June 2018 (1)
  • May 2018 (1)
  • April 2018 (2)
  • March 2018 (2)
  • February 2018 (2)
  • January 2018 (2)
  • December 2017 (2)
  • November 2017 (2)
  • October 2017 (1)
  • September 2017 (3)
  • August 2017 (3)
  • June 2017 (2)
  • May 2017 (3)
  • April 2017 (1)
  • March 2017 (2)
  • February 2017 (1)
  • January 2017 (2)
  • December 2016 (2)
  • November 2016 (4)
  • October 2016 (1)
  • September 2016 (6)
  • August 2016 (2)
  • July 2016 (1)
  • May 2016 (4)
  • April 2016 (2)
  • March 2016 (3)
  • February 2016 (4)
  • January 2016 (3)
  • December 2015 (3)
  • November 2015 (5)
  • October 2015 (5)
  • September 2015 (3)
  • August 2015 (4)
  • July 2015 (3)
  • June 2015 (3)
  • May 2015 (4)
  • April 2015 (9)
  • March 2015 (3)
  • February 2015 (2)
  • January 2015 (5)
  • December 2014 (4)
  • November 2014 (9)
  • October 2014 (2)
  • September 2014 (1)

Copyright Notice

All original text and images are copyright © Marysia Galbraith. Please contact the author before quoting.

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Uncovering Jewish Heritage
    • Join 149 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Uncovering Jewish Heritage
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar

Loading Comments...