SAMUEL PONCZAK ORAL HISTORY

AGNIESZKA ILWICKA-SHEPPARD: This is Agnieszka Ilwicka-Sheppard, and today is 30th of June 2014. I'm here in Poland, in the library of the Jewish studies -- in Wrocław with Samuel Ponczak, and we are going to record an interview as part of the Yiddish Book Center's Wexler Oral History Project. Sam Ponczak, do I have your permission to record this interview?

SAMUEL PONCZAK: Yes, you do.

AIS: Thank you. I would like to start with your family background. Can you tell me briefly what you know about your family background?

SP: Sure. I was born in 1937 in Warsaw, Poland. My parents come from eastern 1:00part of Poland. My father comes from a small town, Wohyń. And my mother was born in Międzyrzec Podlaski. In Yiddish, it was Mezritsh. As young people, they have moved to Warsaw because of the fact that there was not much for them to do or much future in these little towns. Professionally, my father was a tailor and my mother was a seamstress. They got married in 1936, and they lived for a few years, of course, in Warsaw. My father was a more or less leftist-oriented Jew 2:00who was active in the professional unions, tailors' unions, et cetera -- was very much interested in history, even though his education was rather minimal. I think he finished five or six grades of primary school. Of course, he was raised in a religious family, just like my mother. So, anyhow, that was their life. They were active in social life, like Yiddish theater and music and so on. So, I have a little bit of that from them. I hope that that answers, more or less, my -- the place where I was born was on Smocza Street in Warsaw. And during the 3:00war, of course, that was part of the Warsaw Ghetto. I lived on Smocza 31, and just recently, I have visited Warsaw and went through the new Smocza Street. But I'm sure it's not the same area.

AIS: Do you have any famous or infamous family stories you would like to share with us?

SP: Well, it's perhaps the famous or infamous -- it's the story of our survival during the Holocaust, and maybe that's what I would like to say.

AIS: Okay, you can --

SP: Things that are of interest is that my father had four brothers. The oldest brother was still a soldier in World War I, and apparently, in the time between 4:00the wars, he ended up moving to Germany and married there. And, of course, we have no idea where or how or when he perished, which we believe what happened. He also had two brothers who left Poland during the big Depression in the 1930s, and they went to Argentina. And there was one brother who lived in Poland. The story my father says that are of interest to me was that when they were boys, in winter, they made their own ice skates out of wood. And he tells me that he had to borrow a pair of shoes to travel to Warsaw when he left the town, borrowed his brother's shoes. So, that tells you about the economic status of my family. 5:00On the side of my mother, she had three brothers and they were all carpenters, from Mezritsh. And they lived also in Warsaw. They had families. And the rest, of course, has to do with our survival, of which I can talk now. When the war broke out in September of '39, my father wanted very badly to escape together with my mother and me -- and I to the eastern part, east of Bug to the Russian-occupied part of Poland. But my mother had problems leaving family, et cetera, so they decided that they will separate. Not legally, but my father did 6:00go east, and my mother stayed with me in our apartment in what later became Warsaw Ghetto. Now, everything that I tell you will be about the relations that my mother and my father was telling me, because I was too small to remember, of course. My mother tells me that when I saw the Germans marching through Warsaw, I was waving to them from my window, because I thought my father was there, one of the men marching. I mean, that's what I thought. We stayed in Warsaw until about October or November of 1940. So, that's when the ghetto was being formed, and I suppose that at that time, my mother made a decision that there was not 7:00going to be a future for her and me in the ghetto. And she decided to make our escape. She never was saying too much about the war, the beginning of the war, except to say that the building apparently was hit by one of the German bombs and the family perished that was in the same building. We, luckily, were spared that fate. Like I said, in November of 1940, that's what I recall her telling me, she made it to the station. And I'm not sure whether Jews were allowed to travel at that time, but she somehow made it to the train station and into a wagon. And she tells me that at some point, a priest placed himself in front of 8:00her, told her to take off the armband. And either it was the Blue Police or the German gendarmes were walking through, checking for documents -- that priest basically said, The woman with the kid behind is from my parish. That's what I know, that's what she told me. Now, in hindsight, I think about that man and it is quite possible that that priest saved my life, because who knows? If he wasn't there and he wouldn't say what he said, there's a great probability that I wouldn't be talking now. But I think of him as a -- that he saved us, my 9:00mother and I. Now, the rest is somehow she made it -- she probably went to Mezritsh, where her parents were, and she somehow made it to the river, to Bug. And she tells me that she crossed Bug in the middle of the night when the river was frozen. So, I assume it was December, January of 1941. And, of course, it was the middle of the night and she was scared about being shot, either by the Germans or by the Soviets. The sad part of it is that she kept sliding and falling, and carrying a three-year-old kid who was amused at her falling down. She offered -- entertain me by giving me to hold some pictures, family pictures, 10:00which, during her walk through the river, I managed to all tear 'em up. And, as a result, I don't have any pictures of my parents or my grandparents, whatever, from before the war. So, the earliest pictures that I still retain were pictures of the photographs from the Soviet documents that my mother, my father had. So, that was maybe one of the sad events that I don't have the pictures, but the happy event that I was spared. I was saved. So, the events, as they happened, I don't remember them, of course. But somehow, we were reunited with my father on 11:00the Soviet side. She was telling me that we were arrested, there were dogs and -- but I was too young and inexperienced to ask good questions when I could have. In any event, we were then sent to Siberia. The place I remembered was a place called Kotlas in the Komi Autonomous Republic in Russia, and that's where my self-awareness kicked in. I was about four to five years at that time, so I remember something, yeah.

AIS: Yeah, and I have a question about that. That was different territory from what you lived in until then. What is your memory from that time, that place, about people and your family?

SP: Right. As far as I could remember, it was a labor camp. I don't remember 12:00being constantly under the gun of the guards. Maybe I wasn't paying attention, but I don't remember that. We lived in some barrack, I think, but the thing I do remember is my father working as a lumberjack, because that's the area where it is rich in wood. And it must have been either beginning of the wartime -- he was put to work cutting trees and sending them down the river somewhere, because I do remember him sawing [BREAK IN RECORDING] with a handsaw with a few men cutting trees down. And I remember him in the river. So, these are my earliest memories of that place. I also remember some strange -- most of the people were 13:00-- many, rather -- were very strange-looking people. And I remember it quite well, because many years later, I did talk to my father, asking him, "Why did I have this impression of people looking strange and very different than normal in some ways?" And he basically told me that it was a large labor camp where there were lots of Jews and Poles and maybe other people, and -- there was hunger. Of course, no comparison to what was in the ghettos in Poland. But nevertheless, people were hungry, and there was lack of things that they were used to. He was explaining to me that, when I asked him, "People looked strange to me," he said, 14:00"Look, imagine that you are a cigarette smoker and there is no cigarettes." So, they made up their own cigarettes by smoking moss. And I'm sure that smoking moss, after a while, may create some problems for the smoker, and he obviously was unhappy smoking moss. Same thing, he said, "Some people like to drink alcohol. They drink vodka, whatever." (coughs) Well, there was no alcohol in that camp. But for some strange reason, these people were able to get a hold of old cologne, and they were apparently drinking that. And I'm sure that it had some psychological effect on these people. In addition to that, he was saying 15:00that it was very tough. Difficult physical work. And among the people there in that camp, there were some who were intellectuals, and they were not used to hard labor. And there's such a sense of tiredness, there was lots of people who died out of physical exhaustion or hunger, diseases. So, maybe the fact that they looked strange is because it was very difficult place to survive, and that --

AIS: What --

SP: -- yeah.

AIS: -- I would like to ask you, what was your father's name?

SP: Jakub.

AIS: And --

SP: Jakub Ponczak, yes. He didn't have a middle name. Neither do I. I'm named after his father, Shlomo. So, that was my Yiddish or Hebrew name, yes.

AIS: And what language did they speak then?

SP: They spoke, among themselves, mostly in Yiddish. And I became of that aware a little bit later, because my really first language was this Komi. Apparently, I learned that Komi language, to some extent, where I could communicate that I was hungry, whatever. But later on, I suppose we were in that labor camp at least a few months. And there, I, well, I remember seeing -- somehow, we made it to a yurt where we lived with a Komi elder woman. And she obviously was from Tartar or Mongolian ethnic background. I remember that, and it was a big tent of 17:00sorts. Remember my father reading a newspaper in the middle of the night, because it was, I mean, at the altitude we were -- close to the Polar Circle. After a while, I remember we were sent with a barge -- we spent about a good week or so, at least a few days, on a barge. We were sent to a place called Syktyvkar, which was the capital of that Komi Republic. And, of course, my memories are much firmer from that period. Things that I remember was the birth 18:00of my twin brothers. I remember them. I still can see them in front of me as newly born. And I do remember when they died. I don't know why or how, and I did ask my mother a few times, but she choose not to talk too much about it. I do know that my mother became ill in that region. Oh, she had some burns on her hands because she didn't use protective gloves when she was trying to paint place where we lived or what have you. But she worked in a factory as a seamstress. My dad worked, also, as a tailor. I do remember these factories. 19:00Huge halls with sewing machines. And obviously, they were making uniforms, coats, for the Soviet Army.

AIS: How long did you stay there?

SP: We stayed till about 1944. I believe it was in 1944 that we were resettled to Ukraine. But before that, I wanted to just comment on my observations. I eventually spent some time in a nursery or a kindergarten. In that kindergarten, for the first time, I saw animals. There were animals. Apparently, they were resettled from some zoos in the west, to be kept alive. The first time I saw an 20:00elephant in my life. I also remember the PA system, which, in the beginning, was announcing the withdrawals of the Soviet Army. They didn't call it retreat, but they call it the heroic withdrawals. I remember the words they used and I understood Russian at the time. And I remember the change. It must have been after Stalingrad in, what is that, end of '42 or something like that, where the Soviet Army was gloriously advancing, et cetera. So, this was the world that I knew. I realized there was some sort of a war. Of course, we lived like most of the Russians at the time, with rationing coupons and limitations, but for a kid 21:00like me, life was what it was and I didn't understand that it could have been different, better, worse, yeah.

AIS: The world in which you have lived in was Jewish?

SP: Not necessarily. I did not recognize Jewishness yet at the time. I became aware of Jewishness a little bit later, in Ukraine. In other words, I did not know that there were Jews and Christians and Russians and Poles. To me, the world that I lived in was a kid who understood Russian and talked to other kids who spoke Russian. And we had a kindergarten of sorts, and religion didn't get into my life. I wasn't aware of religion. My awareness came a little bit later, 22:00when we were sent to Ukraine. And we were sent to Ukraine because my father was telling me, when I was questioning about, is that they choose not to take the offered citizenship from the Soviet government, 'cause apparently they were offering citizenship if people wanted to stay. But obviously, my parents didn't want to stay. They wanted go back to Poland to find out what was going on. Of course, they were aware of the war, but they were not aware of what was really happening in Poland. So, now we were moved to Ukraine to a town -- we lived on the outskirts of a town called Kherson. And it was a little settlement, a few homes, and it just so happens, and I don't know the details of it, but it so 23:00happened that we shared one of the homes with some person from KGB or whatever it was, NKVD at the time. They lived in some apartment, we had another apartment, and there were sewing machines there. There was the tailoring shop was in our apartment. In that settlement, there were two other houses, and there were two or three other houses, there were Jewish families.

AIS: How did it look like, do you remember?

SP: The houses?

AIS: No, the people.

SP: Oh, the people. To me, they looked normal. (laughs) Mr. Horovitch had a son called Avrasha, which is Avram -- was a little bit younger than I was, and the 24:00family Katchka, had a girl. If I'm not mistaken, she was Rakhela -- Fela Katchka. So, I am sorry, Fela Katchka. She was a little bit older than I was, and there was some other kids. I started to get a sense of Jewishness maybe, but it didn't just strongly register with me at the time. The significant things that happened there -- were quite a few significant events at that time. First of all was the end of the war, the World War II. I remember one day seeing my father drunk like I've never seen him with that officer from the KGB or 25:00whatever, NKVD, and the other Jewish men. They were just drunk. They were, of course, celebrating the end of the war. I understood that later. I just registered the event. I do also remember a couple other events: walking with my father and mother to a fair, I'll say bazaar, I guess. They probably went to look for some food or what have you. There were quite a few strange-looking people. I'd never seen that before, and these were -- now that I look at it I know -- they were victims of the war. They were quadriplegic or they didn't have limbs or hands, and I saw quite a few of them. They were, of course, Ukrainians 26:00who were coming back from the front or however they got the way they were, and I do remember walking by one of them who was -- basically, was sitting on his knees on some sort of a cart and yelling at my parents and me as we walked by, basically insulting us and, "Hey, you Jews!" He called my father Avram, because later on I realized that every Jewish man was Avram and every Jewish woman was a Sara and he was yelling, "Hi, you Avram and Sara, how in hell did you survive?" Now, I understood that because, at the time, I knew Russian. And, of course, he was yelling at them, and when later on I asked, "What was that about?" And my father said, "Well, you're Jewish," and he sort of, in a simple form, introduced 27:00me to my ethnic background. The same year, sometimes in the fall, my father took me to a place which -- I didn't know what that place was. But when we entered, I saw a huge room full of young men in uniforms -- in uniforms of the Soviet Army. And then, I realized that they were all chanting and leaning like that. I did not know why. But what struck me was that many of them were crying, and I couldn't understand. Why is it the Russian Soviet hero soldier is crying there? And I didn't say anything at the time, but many, many years later, I asked my father, Where was I, and he, and what did I see? So, he explained to me that it 28:00was a makeshift synagogue, and the soldiers were Jewish men who served in the Soviet Army, different ranks, and they had just returned either from Germany or from Poland, and the day was Yom Kippur. It was Yom Kippur of 1945. Now how did they organize that synagogue? Don't ask me because I don't know, but apparently, somehow they managed, got to get together and do some praying, and that's what they were doing. So, first time, I saw this makeshift synagogue, the praying, and not exactly the same time, but that came much later, as I was saying earlier, that when I asked my father what it was. But I registered that event. And slowly, I became aware of that Jewishness. There are a couple other things 29:00that are important that I'd like to say. In Kherson, my sister was born, and she is a few years younger than I am. And she lives now in Baltimore. She has four sons, she is happily married and in retirement right now. But there was another event important in my life. Well, I got malaria there and I was cured and the child kind of things. But one day, a young girl came to our apartment, and when she walked in, my father said, "Shloyme, this is your sister." Now, let me tell you a little bit about this story, because it's an important part of my life. It 30:00turns out that when my father left the shtetl [small town in Eastern Europe with a Jewish community] and went to Warsaw, he was sort of taken in by one of the family friends who lived in Warsaw from the same shtetl. And that's where he learned his tailoring, because that man was a tailor, and he simply took under his wing my father when he was young, when he became an apprentice, et cetera. So, he lived with that family. That family, the name was Garbiasz. And they, the family, were from the same town of Wohyń. When my father was married and a young man, the person, his so-called adopted father, was older than him. He was 31:00an active in communist party and he was arrested many times. It became a very symbiotic relationship between my father, my mother, and that family, and they sort of became family of each other, because when the older man was arrested, my father was the head of the family, et cetera. In that family, there were two young girls, of course older than I am. And it was a family of tailors. When the war broke out, we left, and apparently what happened -- and what I'm telling you is what we know later on, what happened. That family was in one of the Aktions [German: operation involving the rounding-up of Jews for deportation or murder], of course, taken in from Warsaw, and they were sent to Treblinka. On the way, they knew where they were going and they literally pushed one of the girls, the 32:00younger girl, Bronka, out of the train, out of the wagon. And she was wounded, but she survived. It's a long story about how she survived. And she met up with another girl from the same town and the two of these girls were walking through the woods in Poland. For a time, they were in the Jewish partisans, et cetera. They somehow managed to cross the front line between the Germans and the Soviets, and they ended up in Soviet Union during the war. And I cannot tell you whether they were there in '43 or in '44. I don't remember. In any event, Bronka was somehow knew or believed that we survived, and she spent over a year 33:00searching for us. And she was describing a family of Jakub, my father, Sara, and a child. And somehow, somebody knew, et cetera. And they directed her to us, and eventually she showed up one day at my apartment -- where we lived, rather, in the house in Kherson. And, of course, she was the only survivor, and she became my sister. And she, to this day, is my sister. She lives in Israel and my parents became her parents and became grandparents to her children, who also live in Israel. And -- she's part of my family. So, she's presently in -- I 34:00think she's approaching ninety years old of age, and sick, et cetera.

AIS: I would like to ask you, briefly, about your education, both in terms of general education and Jewish life for you, Bronka, and your other sister.

SP: Okay. Well, when I was still in Ukraine, I somehow finished first grade of Russian school. We were sent back to Poland in winter, I suppose, in January 1946 -- to Poland, on one of these cattle cars, and we ended up coming to Dzierżoniów, or was Reichenbach at the time. I, of course, started to 35:00understand Yiddish because that's what my parents were speaking, talking when they conversed with each other. And the same thing with Bronka, because that was the language that they used at home in Warsaw, et cetera. I, of course, spoke Russian at the time, and when we came to Dzierżoniów, we came in February of 1946. Of course, my father didn't know what to do with me, so he send me to a heder [traditional religious school]. There was a heder in 1946 in Dzierżoniów. I don't remember exactly the location, but I do remember the days in the heder. There was a elderly man, I presume must have been the rabbi, who 36:00-- I didn't quite understand what he wanted and why he was there. And I, obviously, didn't satisfy his level of competence, so I was frequently pulled by my ear, and I promptly disliked the man. I also disliked the place, because they were giving us to drink -- what do you call, the whale -- tran jak [Polish: fish oil], oil -- whale oil, right, because it was very healthy. It was sent from America to beef up the health of the Jewish children. Anyhow, I hated that more than anything else. And after a few months, I literally gave up and told my father I'm not going there anymore, and that was the end of the heder for me. 37:00But the Yiddish did stick with me a little -- no, it stuck to me and I will tell you later why it was important to me. Now, my parents were not religious, so I don't remember attending any synagogue in Dzierżoniów. But I knew many of his friends. Well, the Yiddish, the Jewish life was really, in Dzierżoniów, concentrated on, in my case of my parents, on belonging to the group of survivors, essentially. The main, main events were organizing a co-op. He and some other friends organized a tailoring co-op in Dzierżoniów. If I remember, 38:00it was on Avenue of Auschwit-- Oświęcim in Dzierżoniów if I remember. Don't remember. The name may have been the Warsaw Ghetto -- The Heroes of the Warsaw Ghetto. I think that may have been the name of that co-op. Of course, when I came to Poland, I did not speak a word of Polish, because my parents didn't speak Polish. Well, unless they had to. So that was part of my problem. When I started my education, I was sent to this Polish school in Dzierżoniów. Must 39:00have been September of '46. At that time, schools were mostly -- well, they were Catholic schools or religious schools. I did not know. I mean, I was sent to that school. And, of course, that's the first time I came across Catholicism, because I entered into this room and I see Jesus on a cross. I didn't know what it was or who it was, but I was shocked. It was an experience that I haven't seen. So, that was suddenly a world that I suddenly discovered. Must have been because of my really not knowing Polish that I was (laughs) frequently punished by the teacher, who -- I remember the ruler and my hands out and being smacked in my hands. And I didn't like that, especially. But I remember it. Why? I 40:00presume that I just did not know what she wanted from me, and I couldn't understand it. It took a while. I also remember in that school that there were classes of, what do you call, the religion, and we were asked -- there were a few Jewish kids. There were about five or six Jewish -- we were asked to leave the room, the class, and go and play in the courtyard, and that's what we did. But when the class let out, the kids were chasing us, and -- so that my sense of Jewishness started to creep in much stronger. I already knew from listening to the conversations about the war and the horror that happened. And the reason I knew was that once we got settled into this apartment that we got after the 41:00Germans left town -- my mother was a very hospitable woman, and people started to come for dinner or a drink. Many single people, because -- family units were rare. They were from those who survived in Russia, but for those who survived in Poland, most of them were single men or single women. The thing that I remember very well were that people used to come and the topic of conversation was only one: how did you survive, where did you survive? Did you see such-and-such, et cetera, et cetera. Did you know, et cetera, know what happened to -- so, people 42:00from the same shtetl or friends from Warsaw used to come or friends from work. And I was just sitting there. I understood virtually everything that they were saying. And a theme that kept repeating, especially from people who, excuse me, survived the concentration camps was that they described seeing the columns of people who were being led to the gas chambers. And those people knew that they were going to their death. It was not that they were unaware. They knew. And they were yelling or screaming to those who were staying behind, Remember us! Tell what happened! Remember, don't forget us. It seems like that was the wish 43:00of the dying people. And to me, that's -- putting that thought together was very important. Also, I remember my father taking me to the train station, because every -- I don't know, every second, third day, there was some transport of Jews coming to Dzierżoniów. They were all coming in the same cattle cars, and we would just walk, go in from the platform, and he would walk into a wagon, look around. If he knew somebody -- one day, he did walk in, and to recognize a friend from his town, who was traveling somewhere else. And he's, "Chaim! Froyde, come on, let's go out!" And he dragged them out with their little bags and these two little kids that were younger than I am that were all scared. 44:00Anyhow, that's an old story. We became family. I mean, this person, Chaim, became my uncle. His wife, my aunt. And, of course, the little boy became my friend and he helped me a lot. And the little boy is now a grown-up man, living in Maryland.

AIS: How would you describe relations between Jews --

[BREAK IN RECORDING]

SP: I lived in Dzierżoniów for about two years. A few important things happened during that time. First of all, I have joined the group Hashomer Hatzair, which was an organization that was formed and they tried to take care of children. One of the things that that organization has formed was a camp for 45:00children that was -- had a summer camp, and I am not sure whether -- it must have been 1947, and that camp was a month-long summer camp in the woods of either Bielawa or Pieszyce, or Pietrolesie, at the time. I don't remember exactly which of these places, but they were very close to Dzierżoniów. This was sort of like a Boy Scouts type of things. We were in that camp for over a month. We were taught how to start fire, how to cook, how to pitch tents, et cetera. What, of course, I did not know at the time that most of the boys and girls, I suppose, were orphans. And the Hashomer Hatzair had young men and women 46:00who basically were training these children, preparing them for a trek across Europe to make it to, I suppose, Italy and take a boat and go to Palestine. Of course, they wanted to take me along, I found out later, but my parents refused. So, I was one of the sum that stayed behind. But in hindsight, I see that this was the way of saving the children and taking them to Palestine.

AIS: How does that reflect the Jewish-Jewish relations?

SP: Well, I wasn't aware. I'm sure that there were lots of conflicts in that 47:00area, but I remember thinking about that Jewish life was rather vibrant at the time. I remember that in Rynek, in this main square of Dzierżoniów, there was already Jewish restaurant and there was a Jewish barber. And people just liked to walk -- on weekends, they walked around the place, they talked -- you could hear Yiddish all over the place. Apparently, there was -- well, the synagogue was not something that stuck in my mind because my parents were rather -- not religious. Apparently, there were newspapers. I have found out a lot about this much later in my life. But to tell you the truth, my own recollections are, in that respect, a bit limited. There was a lot of fraternizing among the Jews, 48:00because suddenly, those who survived felt the need -- and that's my sense -- the need of acquiring a family, becoming a family. So, they tended to gravitate to each other, and lots of friendships were formed. I do remember Bronka lived with us at the time, and she started to date another young man, Henryk, Henyek, who also survived. As a single boy, he survived Russia. He didn't have any family left whatsoever. I do remember the existence of some kibbutzim in the area, because I do remember parades through the town, the night parades with torches, 49:00and they were groups of kibbutz people from the area of Dzierżoniów, Bielawa, who were just marching through the streets. Now, the interesting thing that I would like to mention is that, of all my relatives, the only true relative that survived was my cousin, my first cousin. And unbeknownst to me, apparently, she was participating in one of these parades at which I was looking out of the window of my apartment in Dzierżoniów. But we did not know. There was a sense of sort of tranquility or maybe life coming to some sort of a normal state, because my father was working in the co-op, in the tailoring co-op. There was a 50:00few ugly episodes. One of them was, apparently, somebody denounced my father that he had some dollars or something like that. And we had a visit by the secret police, trying to -- they were searching the apartment and that's an incident I remember. The few other things about the Jewish life: in 1948, and I recall that that was in spring, must have been April, my father took me by train to Warsaw. And we arrived there, and actually we were at the opening of the 51:00monument for the Warsaw ghetto uprising that stands there. And so, I can tell you that I was a witness to the event, when the monument was opened. I remember David Ben-Gurion giving a speech in Yiddish to a crowd of maybe a few thousand Jews. The thing that I also remember very well, that my father took me to some place not far from there, some ruins. And I remember him saying, "I think this is the building where you were born." Of course, he couldn't tell, because everything was destroyed. There were no signs. So, I, like a kid, I climbed on the pile of rubble. And, of course, it was ruins as far as the eye could see. It 52:00was ghetto. The things that I do also remember is that being that my father was working in this tailor co-op, he had the need to frequently travel to Łódź to buy the materials for the co-op, because in Łódź were the mills where they produce the textiles, so -- and I do remember my mother was crying every time he was going on a trip, she was crying. Later on, many years later, when I asked them about it, she said, "Well, that was the time when the Polish underground, the anti-communist underground would stop the trains, and they would get on and look for Jews and communists, and they basically took them out and shot them right there and then. So, she was terrified. And maybe that was also part of the 53:00fact that, in 1948, we moved to Wrocław. Well, that's basically -- I somehow started my second year of school in a different school in Dzierżoniów where there obviously there was no religion. And I presume that that was something along the lines of TPD, which was the Associations of Friends of Children's Schools, if one can translate Towarzystwo Przyjaciol Dzieci, which was a progressive school which had still the roots of pre-war Poland. Used to be called "RTPD" -- Robocizna Towarzystwo Przyjaciol Dzieci, something like that. 54:00And that was a much more tolerant school. It was not far from the town center, and not far from a German cemetery. So, that's what I remember. And that's basically the main events of my life in Dzierżoniów, yes.

AIS: Do you remember any anti-Semitism from that period?

SP: Well, the only events that I remember was my mother crying, and has to do with the trains. So, yes, that stuck in my mind. But personally, I don't think that I have a distinct feeling of anti-Semitism. I do know now that it was a town with a very large Jewish population, apparently of twenty-some thousand people, which, of course, I didn't realize at the time. So, the Jews were very 55:00-- they were the majority, I think, of the population of Dzierżoniów at that time. But no, I don't remember any incidents of anti-Semitism. In the building that we lived, there was also Polish families who were resettled from the East. As a matter of fact, on the ground level, there was a store that was owned by family Blashik, and we had good relationship with them. And their daughter was about my age, and we played together in the back, behind the house, and so on. So, no, I did not remember any events of anti-Semitism. It also was a good time 56:00for me. I found out that there is such a thing as movies, because not far from me was a cinema. And at that time, there was actually old American movies that were played. The other event I remembered was the vote, it's "Three Times Yes" -- I did not know or understood what it was all about, but I do remember that event. And, of course, I was going to the train station, looking for friends. So, it was, rather, in that sense -- it was peaceful. I don't recall any -- as a kid, I do remember when I just started school -- now, it had nothing to do with anti-Semitism, but I was literally -- when I started to realize what was happening about the Holocaust, et cetera, I was afraid as a kid 57:00because our bathroom was not in my apartment. I had to go to the staircase in the building, and I was afraid that Hitler will come and stab me to death. And that was a kind of childhood fears. And combine that and this early unpleasantness in that Catholic school or in that school -- I do remember seriously talking to one boy who was in my class. I don't remember his name, but I was trying to find out how could I become non-Jew? Because it was not a good thing to be a Jew. And, of course, that discussion led nowhere, of course. But I wanted to find out what do I need to do not to be a Jew? But -- of course, that 58:00went nowhere, and I don't remember even if I mentioned this to my parents, but I remember that. And later on, I was comfortable with being a Jew, so --

AIS: And when does confidence became part of your normal life?

SP: It became when I actually have moved to Wrocław, because then, you see, my knowledge of Polish was much better, so I felt more comfortable. And there, I met also other Jewish kids who were in my class. So, there were more of us. And, well, maybe about thirty percent. And we just started to form very close ties, because more or less our histories were similar. And most of them survived if not all survived in Russia. And you start forming your friendships and you start 59:00liking girls and so on, so forth. So, I became more comfortable with my Jewishness. I enjoyed going to the Yiddish theater in Wrocław, because I did understand Yiddish, and to me it was a new experience. And I saw crowds off Jewish people. So, yeah, I felt more comfortable. And a lot of people who lived in Dzierżoniów have moved to Wrocław because of, I suppose, work-related reasons, so that -- and in Wrocław, my father also was a director of a co-op, a tailoring co-op named Skoda, yes, and I was there quite often. And so, I grew up, I felt more comfortable, more freedom. I could ride the streetcars in the city and, yeah, so I hope I --

AIS: Yeah.

SP: -- covered some areas, right.

AIS: And how, if at all, has language influenced your sense of identity?

SP: Well, at that time, when I started my high school in Wrocław, I fully understood that I am a Jew. I did realize that we were not religious Jews, so I did not know anything about traditional Judaism and religion. That came later, a little bit. I never learned Yiddish formally, or Hebrew, and -- because of the environment in the school that I was in, I didn't feel very uncomfortable, 61:00except there were some elements of politics that got thrown in. But it got -- I had a lot of support from my father. One of the things that, for instance, happened was when -- I forgot, was before Stalin's death or something, there was a scare about the Jewish doctors. So, apparently, they murdered a whole bunch of Jewish doctors in Soviet Union, and it became, I guess, an obligation of our teacher, I would say, wychowawca, was, I guess, class teacher to tell us that Jewish doctors were conspiring against Stalin or something. So, you felt brainwashed. I mean, I must recognize that. They said that's what it was and I 62:00believed that's what it was. There was also, of course, elements of anti-Zionism from the government. Well, I was a kid and I tended to believe what they were saying. So, the brainwashing worked. I shouldn't deny that. And things became much more sharp at the of the Sinai campaign in 1956, where suddenly I became fully aware of the State of Israel and that they won a war. To me, that was incomprehensible that there was a Jewish Israeli army and there was an Israeli 63:00airplanes, because the notion of Jews being in a position of strength and control was strange to me. I thought that we would always have to watch out -- watch out what's coming. We did not openly talk Yiddish in a streetcar because somehow we felt that we were a bit different. But when that war happened, I felt a lot of pride. I felt, Wow, we have an army and we can actually win a war, and that's what happened. So, in hindsight, I recognize that the repercussion of this war on the Israeli-Polish situation was not good, and they broke 64:00relationships, et cetera. But I felt a great sense of pride, and later on it was explained to me, Yes, we are people like anybody else. We have our police, we have our military and our airplanes and what have you, and we even have thieves and prostitutes in the coun-- we are just like everybody else. Now, there are many things I did not know, of course, but it came to me as a sense of pride. And to many of my Jewish friends, it was the same, yeah.

AIS: Sam, I would like to ask you a question which might be difficult because it has to cover a few places which you have lived after. But it's important to me to understand to what extent did places in which you have lived after Poland, 65:00meaning France --

SP: Right.

AIS: -- South America, into United States created your identity as the person who you are today?

SP: In 1957, we have left Poland. I was already up to my high school. The reasons are many, but it was, again, a political-imposed, I suppose, or an antagonistic, anti-Jewish, anti-Zionist propaganda from the government. My father was explaining to me that many of the Polish workers apparently dislike the idea that Jews are directors and, God knows what, people in charge of these co-ops, although my father was liked by Poles, Polish people. But it was an 66:00atmosphere where suddenly a large chunk of Jewish population that was in Poland after the war has left. And my guess is about fifty-some thousand people left, mostly for Israel. We did not go to Israel because of the state of the health of my mother. But we left Poland on a transit visa to France with the object of going to Israel, and hoping that we can change our status to a permanent status in France. Well, that didn't happen. As a matter of fact, our attempts to remain in France failed, and we were in Paris for about two-and-a-half years. I became 67:00sort of a tailor apprentice. And there were times where I was scared, because being illegal is scary. Our documents were prolonged, et cetera. And this was also a time of a French-Algerian war, so without documents, one would be in big trouble. I did not feel anything specific about anti-Semitism or things of this sort. We were actually helped for the first time by a Jewish organization called "CoJaSor," which helped us pay for our rent. But my parents and I worked very hard. I worked two jobs, they worked plenty jobs just to survive, because we truly didn't have any money. Well, we managed until one day, we were arrested by 68:00the police and basically told that, If we do not leave, we'll be put in jail, or something of that sort. I wanted to mention just a little episode from my time there. The second year or so, I decided that I'll learn French a little better, and I joined the Alliance Française. There, one day, I became friendly with a Polish priest. There was a priest sitting next to me. I start speaking Polish, and he tells me that he would like to visit the Holy Land. Now, mind you, that was '58 or maybe '59. And he just did not know how to do it because there was no 69:00relationship between Poland and Israel. I made a suggestion that he go to the embassy or the consulate and talk to them about it. And it so happened that they gave him a visa on a piece of paper that he didn't have to show. He went to the Holy Land. He came back after about a month, and he was very grateful for that suggestion. And we became friendly, and one day I remember after school we were traveling in a metro together. And we get out of the train and suddenly there is a round-up on the train station, the metro. The cops, the French cops with the submachine guns and so -- and I looked like an Arab. I had a leather jacket, and a Jew looks like an Arab. So, I was scared and that priest, in his cassock, put his arm around me and he says, "Listen, we talk Polish and you hold me and I 70:00hold you." And he basically, I think, saved me from a good beating, because I remember the cop looking at us, and there's a priest and there is this guy, and they talk Pol-- some language that is not Arabic, they are not suspects, so he let us go. So, that's another event that I remember dearly. Anyhow, we were asked to leave in 1959, early, because of this transit situation. And when I asked, "What would it take for me to remain?" they were very blunt. They said, You may join the Foreign Legion or, if you want, you can sign a five-year contract to work in the coal mines. Well, yeah, I guess it didn't happen. We were lucky. An uncle of mine sent us money for a ticket on a ship. And we did 71:00get a visa to Argentina and also to Australia, but we picked Argentina because I had an uncle there. And in November of '59, we arrived to Buenos Aires and there was, again, a brand-new language that I had to learn, just like when I came to France, I did not know a word. And then, I came to Argentina. I did not know a word. So, that was the perennial language learning. In Argentina, we came again -- ah-ha -- when we left Poland in 1957, three months after our exit, we became stateless, because that visa, that passport expired. We couldn't return, and so, being Jewish and being stateless is not a good combination. Now, after a few 72:00weeks, I realized that I needed to help support the family. So, it's a long story about how my father was able to borrow some sewing machines. We rented an apartment. Our uncle helped us a lot. And he made some samples of skirts and some other clothing items and asked me to go and sell. So, I had to learn quickly a language. I suppose I did not know the town, but I was told, Look, you need to take this bus, and when you see some monument, a fellow on a horse, two stops later, you get off and you will see, there will be stores. Well, I did that and I did not know how do you get into a store without literally knowing 73:00more than -- do you want to stop for a second, no -- saying good morning or goodbye. Well, I realized there, as I walked that there were signs on the stores, there was shingles, kind of. And typically, they had the name of the owner of the store and the name of the store. And then, I realized that there were names sounding very Jewish: Goldberg or, God knows, similar. So, I would get into a store and ask them to speak to that Mr. Owner, and I spoke to him, either Yiddish or Polish or French, which I knew at the time, and that's how I started my selling and buying career. So, I became the salesman and the buyer because I learned a little bit faster than my parents, and they were good at 74:00doing what they were doing. And I learned to sell stuff. And my career is rather uneventful. The things to remember, there was a huge inflation forever, so whatever money you made was not worth it, was (door opens) worth much less months later. But that's not significant. At some point in time, I was already big guy, and I didn't feel that doing what I was doing was (door closes) going to be my future. And, of course, I left a sweetheart behind me in Poland. So, I basically told my father I wanted to get into a university and become an engineer. So, he said, "All right, so I'll work with somebody else." I mean, we 75:00made a deal that -- and so, I decided to enroll at the University of Buenos Aires, and it was very unhappy event in my life, because when I started to talk to the admission person, he informed me that, "Look, you are not from here. Your knowledge of our history is rather not strong, and you don't understand our culture." So, when I said, "Well, what's the bottom point here?" he said, "You need to go back to high school." And he told me that I need to go back to eighth grade. At the time, I was, what, was in -- we're talking about 1964 or '63. I was twenty-six years old, and he was telling me I need to go back to eighth 76:00grade, and that just couldn't happen. So --

AIS: And how did you feel about that? What --

SP: Well it --

AIS: -- was your feeling? Because you were, again, in a foreign country.

SP: Correct.

AIS: You are, again, out of the --

SP: Normal environment.

AIS: -- normal environment.

SP: That's true, that's true.

AIS: And how did you feel about it?

SP: I felt very mad, frustrated, and at a loss, because I was stateless. I didn't have basically any rights, on top of being Jewish, and with no possibility of making my life, somehow -- building a life. And I felt that I can do better than being just a salesman. And on top of that, I realize that if I made lots of money, maybe I would think differently. But whatever money I made 77:00-- we made, because it was all poured into one pot -- was basically, it's like treading water. You didn't get anywhere, because the value was dropping with the inflation. So, it was very frustrating time. I was lucky. I found one of my suppliers who, when I told him my sad story, he told me that he will help me. He did. I was able to, after almost a year's work, to obtain an immigration visa as an immigrant for my father, as a tailor, because a businessman in Baltimore, Maryland needed a good tailor. And I was able to prove by testimony, paperwork, that my father was a tailor. Anyhow, so I was able to obtain an immigration 78:00status for my father, my mother, and my sister. Now, I couldn't benefit from that because I was too old. Now, the reason I went for this immigration status -- because the line, the queue for Jews at the time to United States was fifteen years, and I wasn't going to wait fifteen years to come to the United States just because I was Jewish. So, anyhow, so the only way I was able to come to the States was as a foreign student. And here, again, is this friend of mine who became my friend when I entered that wagon, that cattle car in Dzierżoniów -- and so, that little boy -- well, that little boy already lived in Baltimore, Maryland, and he was already at the university, and he helped me, literally, how 79:00to fill out an application to a university. Literally saying, "Look, in number one, you write your last name. In number two, first name," and so on, so forth. Of course, I did have English in high school, which is one of my memorably good things. So, I had some fundamentals. And it just so happened that Baltimore was also the town where this businessman had the headquarters. And Baltimore was a town where this friend of mine lived. So, it didn't take too long to put together, and there was a university. And lo and behold, they accepted my high school Polish diploma with no reservations. The only criteria was to learn the language. So, well, I learned as much as I could, I finally -- when I arrived 80:00here to the States, I had to pass an English exa-- it was, we arrived in 1964, in spring, in 1940. It was a long trip. We had to take a ship from Argentina to France and another from France to the States. Anyhow, we arrived and I had to pass an English proficiency exam, which I failed. But the university didn't say, "You are not accepted." They said, "You must take an English for Foreigners course, which is zero credits." I said, "Thank you very much, I'll take it." On my personal side, I had a hard time. I had to say goodbye to my friend, my girlfriend. And a year later, after my arrival, I married a young lady who 81:00became my wife. Went to University of Maryland. I finish in three years. I hustle. But I did it right. I was able to -- once we got married, I became an immigrant. And then, after five years of that, I became a US citizen. And, of course, and I lived in New Jersey, worked for large company, RCA. I had three children, have three children, and began my professional career. Completed my master's degree in engineering. I have an MBA. As far as Jewish life, it became a little bit more intense when my daughter was born, because we felt a need to 82:00belong to a synagogue. And we started that in Somerville, New Jersey. And, of course, then my daughter was of age of bat mitzvah, and I had to learn things and that's where my learning about the religious part of the Jewish life began. And it still stays with me till today.

AIS: So, what has been most important for you to transmit to the generations after you about Jewish identity?

SP: Well, with my wife, I did speak Yiddish periodically so the kids shouldn't understand. I loved Yiddish music, and my father used to sing Yiddish songs, and I loved to sing them. Reading, no, I wasn't -- there was a little bit of an 83:00effort on my mother's part to teach me the Hebrew alphabet before our intended trip to Israel, but that fell apart. Simply awareness of being a Jew. I do not need to belong to any synagogue. I felt I do not -- no, I shouldn't say that. I did not feel need to be literate in the language. But I was just too busy building my life, but I did enjoy Jewish humor, Dzigan and Shumacher, and people of that sort. I went a few times to the Yiddish theater in New York. Of course, I mentioned that I was a frequent spectator in the Jewish theater in Wrocław, 84:00loved it. But the simple awareness of being a Jew -- now, once the children were growing up, I felt the need to be more like the American Jews, because that's where my friends became, some of them, my friends -- the American Jews became my friends. Not that no Jews were not my friends, but many of them, many of American-born Jewish people, became Jews, and I talked Yiddish with them, some of them.

AIS: And what was characteristic for that time when Rachel was born to be American Jew?

SP: Well, I felt that I have the right and I felt somehow an obligation to give her the sense of Jewish identity. That was my feeling, that I cannot just leave her to whatever she wants to be. In other words, yes, if she wants to become a 85:00Buddhist when she grows up, that's her choice. But I felt that a Jewish identity's important, and we emphasized by belonging to a synagogue. My wife belonged to Hadassah and other organizations. We were some of the pioneers of taking black children who would spend two weeks with us or three weeks in the countryside, so to speak. So, I was teaching them that -- respect for all people. One of the element that pushed us: I remember one day my daughter, as a child, came home crying. And I remember we were talking, "What happened?" Well, I was recently, actually, a few weeks ago, before this interview -- talked to 86:00her about that incident. And she said that Lillian told her that, as a Jew, she is guilty that she killed the Christ and she will go to hell and she will burn. And the kid got scared and she came home, and I had to explain to her that she's not going to go to hell, et cetera. That reminded me still that there is still latent anti-Semitism, and enforced my thought that she needs to know who she is. She needs to have an identity. What will she do later? It will be her choice. But in that respect, my wife and I agreed that we ought to do that. Later on in life, it became -- we had three children. My two oldest ones went through public schools like everybody else in Maryland, in good type schools. But when my 87:00younger one, younger boy started to grow up to go to first grade, we were debating what to do with him, because he is about ten years younger than his brother. And we saw that my children did not have too many, if any, Jewish friends. I mean, they were very friendly with non-Jews. But where we lived, there was not too much of a -- Jewish kids -- I mean, in the immediate area. So, we decided that we will send my youngest one to the Jewish school. It's a school in Baltimore that is a parochial school, I would say, associated with one of the synagogues. But it's a full school, through high school. And I never regretted that decision. And he eventually became a Modern Orthodox Jew who maintains the 88:00rituals of kosher, et cetera. And I have the most wonderful relationship with his in-laws and the family, et cetera, and they raise their children as they see fit as a Modern Orthodox Jew. So, in that respect, the family maintains a Jewish identity. My children married Jewish partners, and they raised their children as Jews. They know that they're Jewish, they had their bar mitzvahs and bat mitzvahs and so on. So, to me, that is important. In this moment, I do not belong to any synagogue, but I most likely will join one just to support -- I see it more as a place -- not so much as a place of religious piety but as a place to meet other Jewish people, people who I respect, who I like. Most 89:00likely, Reform or a Conservative synagogue.

AIS: We are nearing to the end of our time, but I would like to ask you about your grandson bar mitzvah, which recently happened in Krakow.

SP: Yes.

AIS: What is this event for you? What does it mean?

SP: To me, it has many parts to it. I did not propose it. My son and my grandson one day told me that they would like to have my grandson's bar mitzvah in the town where the zeyde [grandfather] was born. Now, my Yiddishkayt may be explained in some other way. All my grandkids, when they were small in schools, the older ones, there was always a grandfather, grandmother. My wife, 90:00unfortunately, did not have a chance to become a grandmother. So, I try to, well, in some way substitute. So, whenever there was a grandparents' day, I was there. And I was known and I insisted that they call me zeyde. Not grandpa, not nonna, not da-- zeyde -- that's the Yiddish name for grandfather -- to the point where one of the teacher was asking one of my grandson, "What's your grandfather's name?" He said, "Zeyde," because he knew that I was Sam, but he thought my real name is zeyde. And to this day, all the smallest to the oldest call me zeyde and that gives me a lot of pleasure. I know some people say, No, that is so old-fashioned and, come on, grandpa. No, I'm zeyde and I insist on 91:00that. As far as the bar mitzvah, it was a great surprise to me, and of course I encourage them. And they decide to make it in Krakow, in a -- Orthodox, Ultra-Orthodox synagogue. And they were trained to do their prayers, and I polished my parts of doing the aliyahs and all the religious parts that come. [BREAK IN RECORDING] I would like to mention something that's very important. My grandchildren know me as zeyde. Some of them may not know my real name, but I am the zeyde, and to the point where when they were asked on some occasions like Grandfather's Day or Grandparents' Day, What's the name of your grandfather -- so, they mention zeyde. I'm also more active with the grandchildren. I sing to 92:00them Yiddish songs that my father used to sing. (singing) "Oyfn veyg shteyt a boym, shteyt er ayngeboygn [By the road stands a tree, bent over]," et cetera. And "Chiribim, Chiribam." So, I do try to give them a sense of Yiddishkayt because their parents gave them a sense of Hebrew and religion, but I try to put in a few Yiddish words. And I enjoy for simply talking to them, teaching them, having them repeat some Yiddish words. I became also more aware of that by virtue of the fact that I do work with the Holocaust Museum as a translator. Also, I don't translate from Yiddish, but I work with people who do translate 93:00from Yiddish. Or sometimes, I look for, search for words in Yiddish, among them with my friend Sarah Arm, and we exchange our experience in Yiddish. So, whether we say it this way or that way, I was lucky to have a friend in my life who was my coworker, and he spoke Yiddish. So, our commuting time were mostly in Yiddish. So, we were saying, How do you say such-and-such? Or, Could you say "driveway" in Yiddish? Words that are difficult to say. And, of course, by virtue of the fact that my children, grandchildren have some associations with synagogues, one kind or the other, I'm also associated with them. I'm a good friend of the Beth Tfiloh synagogue in Baltimore and Adat Reyim in Virginia, and 94:00so on. I'm known to the rabbis there. And I, with pleasure, maintain contact with Agnieszka Ilwicka who introduced me to the Yiddish Book Center and gave me a touch of these Pakn Treger monthlies, and I guess I am on your distribution lists of the Yiddish Book Center. And I approve and applaud your efforts to collect and digitize the Yiddish world. I was involved in helping in this year's Bruno Schulz Festival in Drohobych, which I consider part of my support of the 95:00Yiddish history, as well as trying to bring a famous Polish poetess, Zuzanna Ginczanka, to the light of the world and helping her identity to become more known to the Yiddish and to the Polish and to the English-speaking world. I don't know if -- I honestly support your work at the Yiddish Book Center, yes.

AIS: (laughs) I have one more question about you and your job, what you are doing. I see you and your job as a bridge between Jewish and Polish culture, to very high extent.

SP: Yeah.

AIS: It's not that common decision for American Jews --

SP: Right.

AIS: -- to come to Poland --

SP: Yes.

AIS: -- and to be part of our community. Could you please briefly tell me about the reasons --

SP: Sure.

AIS: -- why you decide to do that?

SP: Sure. While I was still working, I -- you need to know that when I left Poland, it was very dark, grim days for me, 1957. I thought I'll never return to Poland. I didn't have any intention to come back. It was bitter, bitter time for me. But anyhow, while I was approaching retirement, I start to work a little bit with the Holocaust Museum doing translations. But one day, I was on the internet, cruising, and I found a book, a description of a book written in Polish by a Polish woman, obviously, about the need to teach about the Holocaust 97:00in Poland. The need to teach about the Holocaust in Poland. When I left Poland, Holocaust was a taboo subject. It was not to be associated with Jews, it was -- we had a war, Polish people were killed, et cetera. But the fate of Jews was by no means underlined. But when I read that title, I was very intrigued, to the point where I printed the book and I started to read it. And I realized that suddenly, in Poland, there are people who want to talk openly about the Holocaust, and more importantly about the difficult Polish/Jewish relationship that existed before the war, of course, which we all know, but during the war and after the war. I was very well aware about the pogrom in Kielce, and my 98:00mother crying when my father was traveling. And I could not believe that, as far as I know, about fifteen hundred Jews were murdered after the war in Poland. And now, I understand a little bit more. I can rationalize it, because by virtue of translating, a lot of these tapes which are interviews with Polish people who describe the times of the Holocaust as external observers, because the question they were asked -- what did you see as young boys and men looking into the ghettos, into the concentration camps, into the shtetls, and they described what they saw. So, I understood the situation, that I knew about the life in the 99:00ghetto from witnesses from the ghetto and from other people. But to me, it was important to learn about the outside world looking into the ghetto. And then, when I saw that person, that I became intrigued by that, and I wanted to meet her, because to me, it was simply a revelation. And then, of course, came the book by Jan Gross about Jedwabne and how there was a tendency by some parts of Polish population to take him to court for slandering the Polish nation. Of course, I knew that was a lie and that he wasn't slandering. What he was saying was the truth. But I was simply fascinated by that that was in the open. It was 100:00written about and it was discussed in Polish television and press, et cetera. And then, I found there were more people like that. So, I felt that there are people in Poland who want to shed the true light on the Polish/Jewish relationship. I also understand the reaction of Poles who -- many of them see it as an attack on the Polish entity of Polish people who rather not spend time thinking about it. But I did find a lot of people who believed that the only way to have a unified history is by telling the truth, telling how it was, and looking into the future. And there is more and more people like that, and I 101:00find, in personal relationship, that there are many Polish people who view the world the way I view it, as far as world -- the Jews and Poles. And not only that, but I find clergy that are on the same side. I just met a few days ago Father Lemanski, who I admire. I met him in Warsaw. I met Bogdan Bialek from Kielce, who is one of the leaders of the dialogue between Jews and -- I met Father Michał Czajkowski in Wrocław, who I love dearly and with whom I am in contact with, and I did not meet personally, but via Skype, Jakob Romuald Waszkinel Weksler, who is a very complex person who was saved as a small child, 102:00became a priest before he found out that he's a Jew. So, I see the complexity. I see the goodwill of many people, Polish people, and that's why I am coming and I'm having such friends as Agnieszka here and others. And I simply enjoyed the reception that the bar mitzvah of my grandson was so well and wonderfully received by many of my Polish friends and Jewish friends. So, I am simply -- I am seeing myself as a person that has legs in both sides of this dialogue and that is interested in that this dialogue grows and progresses, and I wish that 103:00many American Jews would open their eyes and ears. And if I have any opportunity to talk to them, I do.

AIS: Thank you very much for that.

SP: My pleasure.

AIS: I would like to ask you, closing our interview, questions very important for me. The first one is what is your favorite Yiddish word, phrase, or song?

SP: Well, the favorite song is "Chiribim, Chiribam," because it's so easy to teach to my grandchildren. One of the saddest one is "Oyfn veyg shteyt a boym," because that's what my father sang. And there's many other Yiddish songs. "Lomir ale trinken a gleyzele vayn [Let's all go drink a glass of wine]," it's a happy song. And, well, at this moment, I don't recall many of them. And, of course, 104:00the old Yiddish songs "Bay mir bistu sheyn [To me you are beautiful]" sung by the Barry Brothers [sic] here in the States or other -- and, of course, sung by my father and my mother, in Yiddish, before they knew about America. So, music is important, and I remember seeing plays with Ida Kaminska in Wrocław. I am in touch with my good friend, Henryk Grynberg, who writes in Polish. But he and I switch to Yiddish whenever we get together. So, Yiddish, sense of Yiddishkayt became stronger in me as I grow older. Maybe it's part because I grow older, but I have more opportunity not to be so busy with my daily life and put a little 105:00bit more thought into it. And my work at the Holocaust Museum also is very important to me as a supporter and a volunteer, yeah.

AIS: And the last question, what advice do you have for future generations?

SP: Well, my advice is that, especially -- not all young -- when I talk to young people, I do repeat that the words that these people that survived the concentration camp is "remember." I want to just add -- maybe it's sort of outside of the question -- but I was translating many video interviews with Polish people who were youngsters when the war started, but not babies. And these young boys or girls who stood on the sides of the road and watched how the 106:00groups of Jews were marched to their executions in the forests or on the Jewish cemeteries -- these Jews were so desperate that they were yelling to these Catholic boys and girls on the sides of the road, who watched them -- they were saying, Pray to Jesus to save us. But on top of that, they were saying, Remember! Remember what you see. Remember, don't forget. And when I put these two things together, from these boys on the sides of the road and from these broken people that came to my apartment, "remember" became my leitmotif. So, that's what I'm dedicating my life to. I want the Polish people to remember. I 107:00want the Jewish people to remember. I would like the American Jews to learn a bit more about this word. Many think that, Well, we didn't lose any family in Poland, and maybe we will -- do not make an effort or something like that. Maybe my words are not well-spoken, but I wanted to tell everyone that they left somebody behind, even though all their parents came, they still left cousins or second cousins or some family who perished, and that they need to be open and not see Poland as a land of a massive grave. Nota bene, I was in Auschwitz with my daughter a few days ago, literally. But they should see it as a land in which 108:00we lived for a thousand years. They're very deep roots. We did give something to that land. We did give a lot. We also have lots in common. And we cannot abandon the Jews who live there now. There are a few Jews still that live in Poland. I don't know whether it's five thousand or ten thousand, it's irrelevant, they are. But we also cannot leave our memories there, our dead, alone. We cannot say I will never go to Poland, because that should not be allowed in our morality, because we need to take care of that land, because that's where our forefathers and our families lie. Thank you.

AIS: A sheynem dank [thank you very much].

[END OF INTERVIEW]