In my last post I asked who was the young person who continued our work in the Żychlin Jewish Cemetery. Through Henryk Olszewski, I received this message:
First and foremost, I’m a Zychliner who respects the history and memory of people. I’m always aware of the legacy that has been left to us from past times. I believe above all that places such as the cemetery have a special status and shouldn’t be neglected. That cemetery shouldn’t look like it looks and that can be changed through actions such as those that occurred recently. If people can fly across the ocean to fix something there, so can we. It is a shame to look at the synagogue etc. If these symbols disappear, there will be nothing left in our city of Jewish culture except a few photos, so let’s take care of it.”
They know about 2 tombstones that have been in someone’s yard since the war and want to bring them back to the cemetery, hopefully in time for our next visit.
The regional newspaper Nowy Łowiczanin took notice of the ADJCP cemetery restoration project in Żychlin, publishing three articles in July 2024. Two local reporters visited us while we were working. Dorota Grąbczewska explained the project was a collaboration between the ADJCP, Matzevah Foundation, Bożena Gajewska of the Association of Friends of the Kutno Lands (TPZK), and local volunteers. She quotes me explaining the need for regular cleanups, at least twice a year, so the place won’t look abandoned. In her article, Aleksandra Głuszcz wrote about additional volunteers including the graduates of the Żychlin primary school who worked hard painting the fence and made an effort to speak with us in English, even though some of us know Polish. In addition, inmates from the correctional facility in Garbalin came as part of an educational program. They learned about the history of Żychlin’s Jews and also helped with the clean-up. Aleksandra also detailed the memorial service, which I described in Closing Words at the Żychlin Cemetery, Until Next Year.
Dorota followed up a week later with an article about the restored grave monument for the first rabbi of Żychlin, Shmuel Abba (1809-1879), who is remembered as an important Hasidic rabbi, Talmudic scholar, and practitioner of practical kabbalah. Local amateur historian Henryk Olszewski found out that stonemasons in a neighboring town were hired to manufacture the monument, which covers the remains of the older, damaged monument below.
Our work has reached others, as well. A group of young volunteers came a few weeks after we left and continued the restoration, clearing out the overgrowth around the main memorial monument and uncovering a pathway made of pavers in front of it. Nobody knows who they are or why they came, but we thank them for their contributions. The place looks cared for now, a proper tribute to those who lie in rest.
Henryk Olszewski shared these photos with me including the collage he made of the monument as it looked 35 years ago, and how it looks cleaned up.
Steven Reece, who has been coordinating cemetery clean-ups for twenty years through the Matzevah Foundation, believes that that a successful project entails more than the physical labor. He emphasizes the importance of the connections that are forged among descendant communities and contemporary inhabitants, and the knowledge that is gained through those interactions. Steven’s goal goes well beyond leaving behind a neat cemetery. He tries to shape the conditions that will sustain the care of Jewish heritage and memory.
Our memorial gathering on July 4, at the end of our work in the Żychlin Jewish cemetery, indicates we are on our way to establishing lasting relationships and we have a plan for continued maintenance of the cemetery.
Before and after: the beautiful wildflowers were taller than Bożena when we started. See the painted gate, cleared brush, and new sign when we finished. Photo credits: Marysia Galbraith
The ceremony was meant to be informal, yet local volunteers, representatives from the regional government, a journalist, and neighbors joined the descendants to show their respect for the work we had done and the people who came before us.
Beforehand, the young ladies who had helped paint the gate and remove brush, presented the visiting volunteers with Ptasie Mleczko, chocolate-covered marshmallows (my son’s favorite!), to thank us for giving them the opportunity to help on our project. I, in turn, thanked them with gifts carrying the UA New College logo.
A gift of Ptasie Mleczko (chocolate-covered marshmallows) from the young volunteers. Photo credits: Marysia Galbraith
We gathered in front of the memorial monument, now cleared of brush.
After I expressed my gratitude to everyone who contributed to our project, Gmina Secretary Waldemar Bartochowski moved us with his remarks, “I want to thank you, as the older generation, for showing the younger generation respect for tradition and, above all, memory. What you do works against the loss of memory and identity so the younger generation can build a better future.”
Closing remarks in front of the memorial monument. Photo credits: Bożena Gajewska
Steven Reece followed, “I am the animator, the helper and supporter for this work. You all are a good example of what is possible when we as a community come together to care for the memory of your former neighbors. I want to invite you to continue this work in the future.” He shared a psalm in Polish.
The last speaker was David Goren. He said, “This very emotional. I am amazed at the ability of us to make this bridge.” Gesturing to the family that joined us from next door, he added “Having three generations here is unexpected, and neighbors, too.” Then, to the young volunteers, he offered, “You brought the spirit, and you brought the spirit of your families.” David offered special thanks to Bożena, who worked so tirelessly with so much heart. He finished with Kel Maleh Rachamim (Prayer of Mercy).
We concluded by lighting candle lanterns and placing stones on the monument. Liana had gathered plain stones, but Bożena brought ones painted white with messages in black: “zachor, “pamięć,” “we remember,” and the Star of David.
Placing stones on the memorial monument. Photo credits: Bożena Gajewska
We thought that was it, but Bożena had one more surprise for us: a sign for the gate identifying this as a Jewish cemetery. She thought of it two nights ago, ordered it the next morning, and picked it up shortly before the ceremony.
Bożena Gajewska surprised us with a sign for the cemetery gate. We will work with various heritage organizations to get a more permanent marker. Perhaps in time for next year’s clean-up? Photo credit: Bożena Gajewska
Our last two days in Żychlin highlight the importance of presence. If we hadn’t stayed here several days, we probably wouldn’t have learned everything we did. As we cleared more of the stubborn blackthorn bushes, the cemetery revealed more secrets. After seeing the progress we were making, the inhabitants of Żychlin opened up to us, too.
Agnieszka Olszewska, a local amateur historian, leads us through brush and brambles to the site of a collective grave (note the back of the rusted sign barely visible at top left). Could these boulders be the remains of a memorial stone?
How would you respond if a group of foreigners come into your town and started weed whacking a cemetery? My guess is most of us would just watch from a distance, curious and a bit suspicious.
By Wednesday, people started telling us stories they pulled out of the depths of their memory. Others claimed ignorance about the town’s Jewish history, but the more we engaged in conversation, the clearer it was they knew more than they had initially let on.
ADJCP member David Goren, whose ancestors came from Żychlin, accompanied me to ask some of the neighbors about the cemetery. We collected important testimony that will help us bring Jewish memory back in this community.
Żychlin descendant David Goren with our tireless Polish partner Bożena Gajewska. After a physically demanding day of weed whacking she went home and baked us raisin and date pastries
The Wujcikowskis live across the street from the cemetery. They had already shown us kindness, letting all the volunteers use their bathroom. David had noticed historical photos in their flower shop suggesting they had lived there a long time. In fact, the large property and house have been in the family since before the war. When Katarzyna (Kasia) didn’t know the answers to our questions, she escorted us to her parents Henryka (Henia) and Grzegorz Wujcikowski who came out of the farm building next to the flower shop. They greeted us warmly. Though they weren’t sure they could help us find old photographs of the cemetery, Grzegorz shared his family history with us. The property originally belonged to Grzegorz’s father’s uncle. Because it was one of the finest houses in town, some of the occupying Gestapo moved in and fenced the land to raise horses. Grzegorz’s aunt and uncle weren’t forced to leave, instead sharing the three-story house with the Germans. After the war, Grzegorz’s parents joined their aunt and uncle, who had no children of their own, and eventually became the owners of the property.
Grzegorz was born after the war. He knew Moshe Zyslander, a Holocaust survivor from Żychlin who emigrated to Israel. In 1989, Zyslander led the initiative to build the memorial monuments in the Jewish cemetery, as well as the surrounding gate and fence. When the Wujcikowskis learned about Zyslander’s plans, they returned the tombstone fragments that the Germans had taken from the cemetery to build a pig sty, the same farm building where Grzegorz and Henia had been working when we arrived. The stones removed from its walls make up the bulk of the 50 tombstone fragments embedded in concrete mounds in the cemetery. Whenever Zyslander returned to visit the cemetery, he would stop by the Wujcikowski’s for a visit.
The Wujcikowskis showed kindness to Jewish descendants in the past and continue to do so today.
Descendants Marysia, Liana, and David took our student volunteers out for ice cream. They were a great help, painting the gate and clearing brush. They didn’t seem to know a lot about the Jewish history of Żychlin but seemed interested in learning more
I’ve been very concerned about properly marking and memorializing the mass graves in the cemetery. Reports in the archive of the National Institute of Memory document the shooting of 200 people in 1942. Other sources indicate that when the ghetto was liquidated, the infirm were shot on the spot rather than being transported to the Chełmno death camp. For the site to be designated officially, it’s important to obtain testimony from witnesses. We were able to talk to two people who were not witnesses themselves but were told about the murders by a close relative who saw what happened.
We spoke with the neighbor next door to the cemetery the day before we started our work. She confirmed she knew we were coming; the city had informed her. She showed us where the city had dropped off a dumpster for the brush we cleared. A big goat was chained up outside the cemetery along the dirt drive leading from the road. “We put her there to eat the grass, so the drive is passable,” she explained.
Over the next two days, she and her son were in and out of their yard feeding their fowl, doing their farm work, and keeping a covert eye on us. As we cleaned up on our third day of work, David and I approached their fence to invite them to the memorial service we planned for the next afternoon. Mrs. Anna came over with her son Marcin and grandchildren Marceli and Lena. Anna has observed the comings and goings at the cemetery since she married over 40 years ago. Her husband, who grew up in the house, did so even longer, until his death in February.
Anna remembers how nice the cemetery looked when she first married. People used the space as a kind of commons; they walked their dogs or sunbathed, and her son played soccer with his friends. On holidays (the Catholic holidays like All Saint’s Day), the family would light a candle lantern at the monuments in remembrance of the dead.
As the cemetery became overgrown, people started going there to drink, play music, and get into other kinds of trouble. Anna’s husband would chase them out, threatening to call the police. She understands people sometimes want to get together and drink, but why destroy a cemetery? Why walk their dogs there? The last time she was at the Catholic cemetery where her husband is buried, people were walking their dog there, too. It isn’t right. She doesn’t understand why people would destroy monuments, either. Why? They should respect them. Although she sometimes contradicted herself, her overall orientation towards us and the cemetery was benevolent. It also suggests a growing recognition that the Jewish cemetery is a sacred space.
Then, Anna confided something that might help us get the mass grave demarcated: a personal account of the crime, albeit second-hand.
When her father was a young boy, about the age her 9-year-old grandson is now, he walked across the fields to see what was happening at the cemetery. He witnessed Jews being shot, their bodies falling into a trench. He was so frightened he peed in his pants and ran home to his mother.
Looking out across the field from what is probably the site of a mass grave in the cemetery. This view probably looked pretty much the same over 80 years ago when Anna’s father ran across the field after witnessing the murders
Henryk Olszewski is a local amateur historian whom I have known for ten years. He had a stroke two years ago and has been slowly recovering. He manages the website and Facebook page Żychlin Historia with his wife Agnieszka. He has an unconventional way of presenting information and sometimes his posts perpetuate stereotypes about Jews and Polish-Jewish relations, but he’s a dogged researcher.
Agnieszka visited us at the cemetery with photos she and Henryk took in 2019 of a rusty sign; though the white lettering has faded, enough remains to make out “Wspólny Grób zamordowanych w czasie okupacji przez Hitlerowców” (“Collective Grave of those murdered during the Nazi occupation”). She, David, and I walked around the back of the cemetery, and after a few false turns, we found an entrance to a clearing where the back of the sign was visible. We also found some large boulders. Could they be fragments of a commemorative stone? We asked a few people why there are places in and around the cemetery that are less overgrown or even barren of vegetation. One possibility could be that the lye spread over mass graves made the soil infertile.
Not much is left of the lettering, but it appears to say “Wspólny Grób zamordowanych w czasie okupacji przez Hitlerowców” (“Collective Grave of those murdered during the Nazi occupation”). Photo credit: Agnieszka Olszewska
Thursday evening, Steven and I visited the Olszewskis at their home. While they treated us to pierogi, stuffed pancakes, and a plateful of tasty cakes, I asked Henryk to remind me the name of a man I met during my first visit to Żychlin. Of course he knew, and immediately picked up the phone to call Józef Kowalski so I could check on a story he told me. Józef confirmed that his grandfather, who was a young man during the occupation, was called out by the Gestapo one night and ordered to dig a ditch in the Jewish cemetery. His grandfather, his mother’s father, told him the story directly. Józef also confirmed the ditch was where the people shot in the cemetery were buried.
The dissonance between the social nature of our interactions and the horrific topics we discussed doesn’t escape me. And yet, these kinds of connections are what make possible the recovery of difficult memories. Our work goes beyond the restoration of the physical space of the cemetery, to something deeper. We’re also restoring the memory of the people who inhabited the city over 80 years ago, and the events that took them away forever.
As we cleared underbrush, we found a few stones like these that appear to be fragments of tombstones
Students from the local school came to help us today.
Kasia, Wiktoria, and Oliwia brush rust off the gate in preparation for painting
Wiktoria and Weronika collect trash and debris.
These young ladies just finished 8th grade and are headed to high school in Kutno in September. They tell me they feel excited about the change, but also a little anxious.
We have been talking in English. They have all studied the language so it’s good practice for them.
Before they began their work, I also showed them around the cemetery and talked a little about Żychlin’s Jewish history. I’m not sure they knew that before World War II, half or more of the inhabitants of the city were Jewish.
Asked why they came to help today, they said, simply, they were asked. One added, I wasn’t doing anything else.
We hope we’re planting some seeds of interest and perhaps a sense of recognition that Jewish history is part of Żychlin history. Maybe in future they will continue to preserve the cemetery even when we descendants can’t be here.
Also working hard today are David and Liana Goren. Liana has already mastered all the equipment. Steven calls her his apprentice.
Liana and David suited up to weed whack.
I’m far less capable than anyone else, but I’m stubborn. There’s a lot of ground to cover so even my awkward contributions help.
It turns out I’m not the only one who dreams of doing Jewish heritage work in the land of my ancestors. The Association of Descendants of Jewish Central Poland has just gained nonprofit status and welcomes members.
It started at the initiative of Leon Zamosc, who reached out to others on JewishGen seeking information about ancestors from the region around Kutno and Włocławek. As the message from the founders explains:
The concept of a regional organization of descendants developed out of an initiative to visit the districts of Wloclawek, Gostynin, and Kutno in order to commemorate the 80th anniversary of the destruction of the region’s Jewish communities during the Shoah. About 60 JewishGen researchers responded to the initial invitation, including 16 who volunteered as consultants for the planning of the Spring 2022 trip. In those early exchanges, some participants proposed the creation of a more permanent organization that would allow us to develop other activities related to the cultural heritage of the region’s shtetls. After studying the options, a subcommittee of 9 participants suggested ideas for possible activities and recommended the establishment of the ADJCP – Association of Descendants of Jewish Central Poland.
On the 2022 trip, we’ll participate in memorial activities at the Chełmno Death Camp. We will also learn about the history and culture of Jewish residents of the region, spending time in the larger cities of Włocławek, Kutno, and Gostynin. In additon, participants will have the opportunity to participate in small group excursions to the smaller cities and towns where their ancestors lived. We hope to contribute to a heritage project while we are there.