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Oral history interview with Rose Klepfisz

Oral History | Digitized | Accession Number: 1996.A.0482 | RG Number: RG-50.030.0381

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    Oral history interview with Rose Klepfisz
    Transcript
    Good Morning, Rose.
    Good morning, Joan.
    Welcome.
    Tell me where you were born and what year--
    your birth date-- and what your name was at birth.
    I was born in Warsaw, July 22nd, 1914.
    My name was-- probably, I don't know exactly--
    Rachel or-- was never called this way.
    Always Rozka, I was called at home.
    And what was your maiden name?
    Perczykow.
    Can you tell me something about your family, your parents?
    Yes.
    My father was a watchmaker.
    My mother was a housewife.
    We were six children, five girls, one boy.
    I was the fifth one.
    And eight years later, my younger sister
    was born unexpectedly.
    So we're six.
    My oldest sister was a teacher.
    The second one, she finished the commercial school.
    The third one was in fashion--
    hats.
    My brother, finished vocational school--
    was an electrician.
    And I was the fifth one, and then the youngest one.
    Can you give us names?
    What was the oldest name?
    Sure, the oldest one was Genia, Anka, Guta, Beniek, myself,
    Rozka, and Sala, which was later called Krysia.
    She didn't like the name Sala.
    And she called herself Krysia.
    The atmosphere at home was very lovely, really.
    I was for a long time like a mascot to my [NON-ENGLISH]..
    For eight years, I was the youngest one.
    And really the oldest one, Genia, the teacher, she really
    raised me, so-called.
    And Anka used to take me always to the theater, to the opera--
    all over whenever she went with her boyfriend.
    I was wondering why.
    But this was it.
    I was always with them.
    And they really gave me a lot of meaning how to grow up.
    But Genia was the one who gave me really the education.
    And she was my role model, really,
    as I was later on for my younger sister.
    I was a role model.
    I was really raising her.
    And what was your relationship to your mother and father,
    if you were so close to your siblings?
    Very warm.
    My mother used to say later on, you were my best child,
    somehow.
    I was like my mother, very organized.
    She was sewing for all of us.
    She was very good with her hands.
    And so am I up to now--
    not exactly up to--
    and Father was a little distant because he had
    to make a living for all of us.
    He passed away in 1927 when I was a young child still.
    And the old one-- so education meant a lot to all of us.
    And we tried-- even after he passed away,
    I was the one who couldn't go to gymnasium.
    But my older sister, Genia, she arranged for me
    all the teachers, the tutor.
    And I could pass the exam, external called,
    in the ministry of education to go for my matriculation.
    At the same time, I was also tutoring children
    to make some money in usually the Polish language
    and arithmetic.
    My sister always had in the school
    many children who needed help in education.
    Always many boyfriends came to my sisters.
    It was always lively and pleasant.
    My mother was very hospitable and always had something
    for the people who came in--
    the gathering.
    So we were a happy family.
    Difficult later on after my father passed away,
    but we kept together.
    Did your mother work after your father died?
    No.
    So how did you get along?
    The children working.
    Or they were grown up.
    And they always supported the home.
    Little by little, when they got married,
    they always provided the rest of us with money.
    And we all supported the family until the war broke out.
    What did you like to do as a kid?
    I did a lot of-- first of all, I was reading a lot.
    And this was because of my sister.
    She led the road to it.
    And then we played Potsy, it's so called.
    Yes?
    Potsy, in the street.
    What is that?
    It's we jump from on the sidewalk-- you jump and so on.
    All kinds of things in the place and the running--
    ball, of course-- playing ball.
    And this was-- and then I joined the Hashomer Hatzair.
    How old were you when you joined?
    Do you remember?
    Very young, about 14, 15, something like that.
    And then we went to even for camps and learned Hebrew.
    And I spoke very well Hebrew because we
    had some kind of a leader from Israel
    who didn't let us speak Polish at all, just Hebrew.
    It was rough.
    But we learned.
    And I didn't have any difficulties to see a Hebrew
    play or listen to a lecture.
    He was very intensive about that and very serious.
    So I had always my days filled.
    And homework-- first of all, homework
    had to do because my sister was very strict about this,
    that they can matriculate later on.
    And this was that.
    I went to Maccabi also.
    Maccabi is a sport club, a Zionist sport club.
    I was very good in it--
    jumping.
    What kind of sports did you do?
    Regular gymnastic.
    Yes?
    Yes, regular gymnastics.
    But this was for a while.
    and when they put up-- even with Hashomer Hatzair
    we went to Hachshara.
    You know what's a Hachshara?
    No, explain it, please.
    This is you go--
    the whole group goes to a farm.
    And we work on the farm, preparing to go to Israel.
    And we work very hard.
    It was about two years I went, summertime, to the Hachshara.
    And then I realized that I'll never go to Israel.
    I would never leave my family.
    I stopped being a member of Hashomer Hatzair.
    And I joined the sport club Jutrznia.
    This is on the Bundist auspices.
    And I was very active there in different committees.
    This is where I met the Blum, Abrasza Blum,
    the father of Olek, who's supposed
    to speak now at the conference.
    And because they had also a dancing group--
    and I loved dancing--
    up to now I love ballet--
    and our instructor was one of the best.
    She was instructed in the ballet school
    just like modern dancing with Martha Graham.
    This was the style.
    And she was our instructor.
    So I joined this.
    And in this, I became one of the best also.
    This-- any solace, I got.
    Once a year we had performances.
    And this was under the Bund auspices.
    It was marvelous.
    I loved every minute of it.
    Was that the first time you were doing modern dance?
    Or had you done it before?
    No, never.
    This was in Jutrznia.
    I lived in that group under this theater.
    Do you remember a particular role that you took?
    All this was Chopin's Waltz, played very soft things.
    And it was the March of Mendelssohn's--
    many of them.
    My partner is still in Australia.
    She's still there.
    So this was what I did.
    Rose, tell--
    At the same time also, I was working in the library.
    Also this was the Bund library under the name of Grosser.
    Grosser was a very famous Bundist--
    leader from Bund.
    And under his name was the library for mostly
    came the workers over there--
    tremendous library.
    And I worked there as a volunteer
    and cataloged and categorized the books where they belonged.
    Sometimes I was helping out people
    who gave me something to read, something like that.
    You were a teenager then?
    You were 14 or 15 or 16?
    No, I was older.
    Oh, you were older?
    This is I'm going through the years.
    So this was--
    Can I go back a little bit?
    Yes.
    Your sisters and brother, were they all Bundists?
    Only one sister wasn't.
    She was a communist.
    It was Guta.
    She married later on also a communist lawyer,
    Rosenfeld, Buziek Rosenfeld--
    Bernard Rosenfeld.
    But the rest were all Bundist.
    And my mother used to go to also to the meetings
    of the Jewish, the Judischer Abeter Freu, the Jewish workers
    woman--
    to the meetings.
    But my father wasn't around at the time already.
    Were there a lot of political discussions
    in your house because of this?
    Yes, it was because of my sister.
    We never were fighting, but you're doing what you're doing,
    but you--
    those kinds of things.
    Particularly my brother was very strong about it and Anka too.
    Anka was still in Australia and now is sick.
    And her husband Bachrach, he passed away long ago.
    But they're very strong on this.
    And my brother and my older sister and her husband,
    it was a Bundist atmosphere at home.
    And I somehow felt so when I stopped with Hachshara,
    with Hashomer Hatzair.
    I was never a member of the Bund.
    But when I met Michal--
    so this was already--
    I was going more in this direction.
    What do you mean when you say it was a Bundist household?
    What would that mean to somebody?
    To somebody, politically, we were not religious.
    Traditional, always for the holidays,
    even when my father passed away, we came always together
    and observed Passover when my father was alive.
    He had to have God and everything,
    but not in a religious way.
    But traditionally, we were.
    And politically this is where we stand,
    voting and demonstrations and something like that.
    So it was very activist in a certain way?
    Yes.
    [INTERPOSING VOICES]
    Yeah, the whole family was very active.
    And you spoke Polish--
    Polish, yeah.
    --amongst yourselves?
    Always.
    When we turned around from mother, father,
    we spoke immediately Polish.
    And what did you speak with your parents?
    Yiddish.
    Were they upset that you were speaking Polish?
    No.
    This was a way of life, our friends and all that.
    This was our way of life.
    Rose, after your father died, and you're a little bit older--
    you're now--
    I was 12 years old.
    But still a kid, I guess.
    And there are things going on in Germany.
    And clearly a few years later-- in 1933 when the Nazis take
    over--
    are there discussions among the Bundists
    or in your household about--
    We read the newspapers.
    But it never touch us so directly.
    We're always talking with the newspapers and the literature
    about it.
    But it didn't touch us so directly.
    We were going on with our normal life.
    People often say that--
    I--
    Go ahead.
    I remember that even my sister-- the oldest one, Genia,
    the teacher--
    she came home.
    And she said, I think it was '75 or '76
    that Birobidzan was looking for teachers and so on and so on.
    And she says, I'm not thinking about this.
    But we all screamed, no.
    You're not going anyplace.
    So this is how we worked together really.
    Did you feel antisemitism in Poland?
    Of course we felt it.
    Of course we did.
    All the time, we did.
    We used to go--
    I wouldn't go by myself in the other area,
    unless in the same--
    but we were afraid of the boys who were throwing stones when
    they saw the Jews and so on.
    And first of all, it was, let's say,
    1978 already came the Kristallnacht.
    And this was in 1977.
    But 1978 was the ghetto benches at the universities.
    So we knew about it.
    We did something for demonstrations.
    But life was going on.
    When you were younger, however, in the '20s and in
    the early '30s, there was a big separation
    between Polish Christians and Jewish Poles, yes?
    Did you have friends who were Polish, non-Jews?
    No.
    Not at all.
    First I was in the Hashomer Hatzair.
    And then I was in the Jutrznia, which is only Jewish people.
    No, I didn't have any.
    So your school was Jewish, where you went to school?
    Yes, it was-- but not the Jews.
    It was a public school in Polish.
    But mostly we were Jewish kids.
    This was mostly.
    But we constantly-- there were fights between the boys.
    They were playing ball in the certain places,
    and they came, the shkotzim they called them--
    What did they call?
    A shkotz, a shkotz, yeah.
    This is the Polish young boys.
    And they were throwing stones.
    And they were fighting.
    They were just fighting.
    I remember that my brother used to take me to a ball game--
    not a ball game official, but the boys
    were playing among themselves.
    And he always was holding my hand and took me to look at it.
    And I was sitting in the corner watching them.
    They always laughed.
    Beniek brought his little sister.
    And girls, were their problems among girls?
    Or it was usually the boys?
    Usually the boys, yeah.
    But I never had at that time Polish friends, always
    among ourselves.
    Particularly, I'm saying from Hashomer Hatzair and then
    Jutrznia.
    And I was also--
    busy with the library, with this and that.
    Did you have particularly favorite books?
    I read everything.
    I read all kinds of literature, the Scandinavian, the Russian,
    American--
    Dreiser, I remember, Mann.
    I read constantly.
    And there is a lot of Polish literature-- good books,
    even one got the Nobel Prize, Reymont, for his three volumes,
    I think it was--
    Peasants-- Chlopi.
    This was tremendous.
    I read everything.
    Did you go to films?
    Yes, we went.
    Did you like that?
    I liked.
    After the war, particularly, it was so
    many Russian films coming here.
    But I always went to see films.
    And the theater was a very great part
    of my life because of my sisters.
    They always schlepped me all over to see the museums.
    And they gave me a very good cultural basis.
    So it became part of the normal part of your life it seems.
    Right.
    Yeah.
    Did you ever act?
    No.
    It was that--
    We were playing Sleeping Beauty-- made a little play.
    When we were 7, 8, 9 years old, we played.
    Then we charge $0.05 for the other kids
    to come to take a look.
    But this was-- dance was my--
    Had you thought about it professionally?
    No.
    Guta was extremely talented.
    She went to a film school.
    She even gave herself a name.
    The studio gave her a name--
    Geri Pik-- Geri--
    Guta, Pik-- Perczykow.
    But she was excellent.
    I remember her once being at home, just a young woman,
    and many of her friends came-- boys and girls--
    and she was reciting for them.
    She was reciting a poem about the French Revolution.
    And I was sitting on a little chair in the corner--
    she let me in--
    in the corner, listening to her.
    And she said something.
    She said, [NON-ENGLISH].
    And I said in Polish, [POLISH] meaning,
    let the goat eat your face.
    But it was a rhyme.
    She got so angry.
    She threw me out and went to Mother.
    And Mother was keeping me in the back and said, leave her alone.
    You go back.
    But this was what's happening, always gathering at home.
    It was a very warm atmosphere.
    But acting, no.
    She was the one who was really--
    first of all, she would be an excellent lawyer.
    I think she was the most talented than all of us.
    She was very around.
    She knew a lot.
    She read a lot.
    She performed.
    She's in the fashion, hats--
    she had something in herself.
    Was Michal your first boyfriend?
    No.
    Do you want to tell me what--
    Do you have to know?
    What?
    Do you have to know?
    [LAUGHS] You don't have to say.
    No.
    I had-- in the Hashomer Hatzair, it was a photographer.
    I used to have photos of him, you'll see.
    And he was very excellent photographer, and artist
    photographer, really.
    He made beautiful pictures.
    And I had the whole album.
    But during the war, I gave it to our maid.
    She was later on so-called--
    she was taking care of buildings.
    And I gave her the album.
    And she got scared later on.
    And she burned it.
    This is the only thing I took out.
    But this is how it was.
    No, he was a very nice guy.
    But then came Michal.
    And I met him in Jutrznia.
    Can you tell us about it?
    About him?
    How--
    How you met him--
    Oh, how I met him.
    I don't know.
    He probably saw me before dancing or whatever
    because he had the rights.
    He was in the board of Jutrznia.
    And I was an academic already and the Polytechnikum.
    And he used to come up and look at the whole class dancing.
    So many people came up.
    So what?
    And then he was after me.
    And one day a whole group of us went on sleds around Warsaw.
    And he came.
    He was skiing.
    And he came at that time also.
    I don't know how he found out.
    That I don't know.
    But he saw me.
    We were going down with the sleds.
    So he went with the skis.
    He wanted to throw me out from the sleds.
    I was furious.
    I was screaming at him.
    I couldn't let him.
    And then he was running for a long time.
    And I didn't want to.
    I had a boyfriend.
    But this is how it happened.
    And then I cut off with my--
    with Adam Rubin.
    He was a marvelous guy, really.
    But Michal was very--
    he was so romantic.
    He always explained to me the skies,
    astronomy, which I had nothing--
    I didn't know anything about it--
    and took me for long walks for miles
    through bridges, to the other side to Prague.
    And this is how it started.
    But he was really amazing, how he can always
    make you feel good.
    He was a great optimist and to the last drop
    of his blood, a Bundist.
    He believed in a better world and socialism,
    that it will come.
    This is what he was.
    And he took me by that.
    And did you believe it too?
    He made me believe it.
    I was always more realistic than he was.
    And we had two things.
    He was a scientist.
    I was literature.
    He wanted to know about the book.
    He used to call me Mala, meaning petite.
    He never called me by my name.
    He picked up his arm, and I put the book under his arm.
    He was tall, handsome--
    and he used to say, who published this?
    What was the name of it.
    Open your drawer and take out the card.
    Take a look.
    So I told him.
    I remembered.
    He really was-- he was very unusual, really.
    Were you about the same age?
    Or was he a bit older?
    He was a year older.
    It was 1913.
    He was born '18.
    I was born the same time as he was.
    April 17.
    So when you first met, you were 17 or 18 years old?
    I met him in probably 1931.
    So how old was I?
    So I was 11 and 6--
    18 years old, probably something like that.
    Yeah.
    So you went together for how many years?
    Oh, we went together for about five years.
    Did you live together before you got married?
    No.
    How could I?
    Was he close with the rest of your family, and you with his?
    When my mother heard about that, and she saw us a few times
    from the far--
    he took me home, and my mother was up late--
    she said, why do you have to go with a Polish guy?
    Don't do that.
    It looked like this is a way he could
    go through the war like that because he looked blue eyes
    and blond.
    But he was close, yeah, with all my sisters.
    We used to come to each other.
    And yeah, it wasn't a long time after all.
    But when we were going together, he
    used to come when I was sick.
    He used to come home and visit me, brought me flowers winter
    time when we couldn't get anything.
    He came in with--
    So it was a very romantic relationship?
    He was always romantic.
    This is what I'm saying.
    Even his whole death wasn't a realistic one.
    Absolutely, I'll do it.
    What he did.
    He was always romantic.
    Idealistic-- he believed in a better world.
    Says he can do that.
    This is how it was.
    What was your marriage like-- your wedding?
    Oh, we got married--
    it was my mother and his mother and father.
    Genia, at that time, I think she was working in the hospital.
    She couldn't go.
    The next day he had to go to Bialystok
    because he had to oversee something, what they're
    building for drying mushrooms.
    He was an engineer at the time he was working.
    And he was going to school.
    And he was working.
    And so we went to the rabbi.
    And we went first to the Civil--
    we had to go-- and then the rabbi--
    or the other way around.
    I don't remember.
    It was the same day.
    And he left the same night.
    But we later on went on our honeymoon to Paris.
    It was the worldwide exhibit.
    The World's Fair?
    The World's Fair, yes.
    And for a honeymoon, for a whole month--
    his aunt was working for the Institut Pasteur.
    And we were living with her on the same street--
    the doctor who was in Paris.
    And we went for a whole month.
    And then we went to the fair.
    And we parted under Eiffel.
    I said, I'm going to the fashion and literature.
    And you go to the science this way.
    And then we met again.
    But it was beautiful.
    We took a trip on the Sekwan--
    Sekwana, on this-- with the-- all the colors.
    And it was beautiful.
    It was really beautiful.
    We went before to Belgium to Antwerp.
    It was a sport Olympiad at that time.
    Before you got to Paris?
    Before we got to Paris, yes, 1937.
    So when you first started seeing each other,
    was he going to school at that time to study engineering?
    Yes, he was the first year.
    And this is the picture of him on his index book.
    And this was saved because this picture was here in the States
    by his aunt.
    He became a student.
    And we sent the pictures.
    These are the students.
    Now were you going to school at this time when you met?
    No.
    I was still tutoring.
    I was having to tutor at that time still.
    He helped me a little bit with the algebra and that sometimes.
    When did you start working in the Bundist library?
    Oh, I was still--
    I was maybe-- I don't know.
    Let's see what year could it be?
    It was 18, something like that.
    And you worked there for a number of years?
    Yes, a few years, I was working there.
    Now after you got married, and after--
    Also working still in the library.
    You were?
    Oh, yes.
    I was going to the library.
    And where'd the two of you live once you got married?
    Oh, with his parents.
    They had a six-room apartment.
    They were teachers.
    And I was always here or there, working as a nurse.
    And they had six rooms.
    And they gave us the best room.
    And I was working.
    There was a maid.
    I didn't have any obligations to do--
    not many.
    So they were fairly well off, I guess?
    They weren't rich.
    But they were teachers.
    She was once-- not once, but she was up
    to the end, the president of the teachers union.
    She was very active--
    also Bundist.
    They didn't speak Yiddish at all.
    Michal didn't know Yiddish until he was 21.
    She started to learn by himself to read.
    They spoke Polish all the time.
    So was Genia.
    But he learned by himself.
    When he was 21, he said, that's enough.
    It's interesting that the leaders--
    that Bundist leaders, the children never spoke Yiddish.
    Even the Ehrlich and Alter--
    you know who they are.
    They were the great leaders of the Bund, both of them
    were killed by the Russians during the war in 1941.
    Alter was an engineer.
    And Ehrlich, his two sons were here.
    One son is still alive.
    Victor, he's a professor at Yale.
    And the children never spoke Yiddish.
    This was very interesting.
    Of course, they were sent to the best schools and gymnasiums,
    this and that.
    So Michal didn't speak Yiddish at all.
    And he never really spoke Yiddish because she was afraid
    that he-- my eyes are tearing--
    that he will make mistakes.
    And he didn't want to make any mistakes.
    But he could read.
    In the end, he could read.
    Did you sometimes speak Yiddish between each other?
    Michal, and I?
    No.
    No.
    Never.
    Never.
    And luckily, we both started to speak
    to Irena Polish, not Yiddish.
    She didn't know a word of Yiddish.
    She started to learn Yiddish here in the States,
    not before, because in Sweden also--
    Swedish and Polish-- this is how he spoke to her.
    So what is happening in your life between 1937 and '39?
    Are the two of you thinking about the war possibly
    coming there?
    Or did you both--
    We wanted to come--
    1939 was the World Fair in the States.
    And we intended to come at that time.
    But we were a little late because he had an aunt
    here too, his mother's sister.
    One was in Paris.
    And the other one was here.
    And we intended to come the World Fair.
    It started in September.
    And he for some reason couldn't make it.
    I don't know exams, or registration,
    or whatever it was--
    because he finished Polytechnic almost 1979
    because he was also working.
    Being married he has to work, has to support the wife.
    So we intended to come.
    But for some reason we were late.
    If we would come at that time, we wouldn't be there.
    We would stay here.
    But we were late.
    Were you intending to come to the United States
    just for the World's Fair?
    Just for--
    Just for vacation?
    He would never leave.
    He has to fight for a better Poland,
    for a righteous-- you know, those kinds of things.
    He would never leave Poland at that time.
    Thinking what happened at that time,
    he would never leave Poland.
    So then the war starts?
    Then the war starts, yeah.
    And what is that like?
    What's the beginning like for you and your family?
    It was tragic.
    Meanwhile, my sisters got married, got out of the house.
    Genia had the marvelous husband, Dubnikow.
    And they had a son, Majus, because he
    was born in the month of May.
    So they called him Majus.
    You see, it wasn't for religious or business.
    Then Anka was married also to Bachrach, a marvelous man.
    He just died being 90 years old.
    He was writing to the end of his day.
    This was Bachrach.
    And they had a daughter, Genia.
    They went through Shanghai, came to the States.
    Guta was married to Bernard Rosenfeld.
    He was a lawyer, a communist, and also a marvelous man,
    so well-educated.
    As much as I loved literature, we always
    had some kinds of games.
    I always lost.
    He was always on top of everything,
    all kinds of literature, and a marvelous man.
    And my brother was also married and had a son before the war.
    So everybody was really out.
    And I was married.
    So this is when the war broke out.
    It was only my youngest sister with my mother.
    Sala?
    Sala.
    Krysia, she called herself Krysia, yes.
    Only my mother was with her.
    But everybody took care of the household.
    And it so happens that on the 7th or 8th of September,
    it was an order by the mayor.
    It was a mayor, that all the men who were still
    at the age of military should get out of the city
    because the Germans were coming very close.
    And they'll take all the men.
    So better you get out to the the east side of Poland
    because maybe still Poland will win the war with the Germans.
    And so Michal and all the husbands--
    only the oldest one, Genia, and Dubnikow, they went together.
    They didn't leave.
    Anka stayed.
    And Guta stayed.
    And I stayed.
    And all of them left.
    They went for--
    Michal left with his two friends,
    with Jerzy Lipszyc, with whom he was studying.
    They were students and studying together in the university.
    And Mietek Katowicz, two marvelous guys--
    the ones I met were nice.
    Mietek died.
    But I met Jerzy.
    When I went with Irena to Poland.
    He came up.
    They all left.
    They were all married.
    But they all left the wives.
    They went to the east side.
    And after a few weeks--
    maybe a month, six weeks, I don't know--
    they all came back.
    Mietek Katowicz's wife was pregnant.
    Michal came back.
    I think that Jerzy stayed a while.
    He was still in London.
    His father was a doctor.
    And he was a very well off with some kind of compact he had.
    But then he came back.
    So one day after a few weeks, they came back beside Genia
    did not come back.
    And Bachrach didn't come back.
    But he sent for my sister and the baby somehow.
    People were traveling back and forth
    through the borders between Russia and Germany--
    back and forth.
    So Anka left to Vilna.
    They were in Vilna.
    Genia was in Dubno.
    This was Ukraine.
    And then Guta left with Buziek also, with her husband,
    also to Ukraine, the fourth member.
    And I stayed.
    I was there.
    And in the end Krysia had the boyfriend.
    And she also left.
    So when Michal came back, I took my mother to our household.
    And we stayed together.
    So it was a very tragic situation at that time,
    I would say.
    First of all, they bombarded Warsaw.
    I was so scared.
    Michal wasn't there.
    We were in the cellars.
    And I was so scared to death.
    I got a fever.
    I didn't know what's happening.
    And Michal wasn't there.
    It was scary.
    Then suddenly he came back.
    They decided they cannot leave the wives.
    And they came back.
    And since then it start.
    And that was-- then after a while I got pregnant.
    What happens--
    And then also we had to move from our apartment
    to the ghetto.
    So at that time, I was already very sick.
    And I was out of action.
    I was--
    What were you sick from?
    Thyroid.
    So my eyes at that time became permanent.
    I never had this kind of-- this is with the sickness.
    My heart-- I was sick.
    I was very sick.
    But this is already after Irena was born.
    But you moved to the ghetto in 1940?
    No, this was already later, a little bit--
    end of '40, '41, something-- because they did it in parts.
    There was a small ghetto, a big ghetto, and so on, at the time.
    We got a tremendous room from somebody.
    They knew my mother-in-law and my father-in-law--
    from people who a tremendous apartment, six rooms
    or something like that.
    And we got about two rooms.
    It was one-room later, but divided
    the two rooms over there, when she went to Jerska.
    This is where we all lived together.
    So now who was together?
    My mother-in-law, my father-in-law, my mother,
    Michal, I, the baby, and Genia.
    For a while also came another sister,
    my mother-in-law's, Guta Schulman.
    Her husband was also--
    he was an editor in the Volkszeitung.
    Very nice man, but he died before that.
    But she was for a while in our apartment.
    And she was together with my mother-in-law and my mother
    when the raid came, and they were taken away.
    But this was later already.
    Rose, when the war starts, and then they
    start having decree's about the Jews, yes,
    and then finally, you have to go to the ghetto, what
    are people talking about?
    What kind of--
    It was a tremendous shock to everybody
    because the Germans came into the streets.
    They were killing just like that.
    They were tearing beards from the Jews.
    They were coming at night and taking out
    people from the houses.
    There were raids around a few blocks
    and taking people for work to do this, to do that,
    before they started to take them to concentration camps--
    for all kinds of work.
    It was unbelievable what was going on in the streets.
    The fear-- people didn't have what to eat.
    Immediately stores were closed.
    The Germans took away everything they could.
    They came into the stores, into the homes, and just like that,
    didn't do anything.
    And it was terrible.
    There were keys to stand in line to get something.
    The Jewish-- the Judenrat--
    it wasn't the Judenrat yet, but the people who worked before
    in the Judentrat--
    tried to keep everything together.
    But you know about the story of Czerniaków,
    who committed suicide because they said you have to deliver
    so-and-so many people for this, this, and that.
    He couldn't do it because he knew
    it's for either camp or death.
    And he committed suicide.
    Others stayed.
    Then the Jewish police came.
    It was a terrible thing.
    You can't even imagine what was going on.
    And we didn't have--
    I know that my mother-in-law was selling and selling and selling
    what we had.
    Anything goes.
    And people came from the Aryan side.
    They let them in, that they paid to the--
    even Germans were standing then with the guards, and watching.
    They came in.
    They were buying up things.
    It was a tremendous--
    it was tragedy, completely tragic.
    And then they started to see that people
    in the streets, the children begging running around--
    some didn't have already any strength to run around.
    I was a lot sick at that time.
    First of all, I gave birth.
    And then I started with my thyroid.
    I was taken to the hospital.
    Hospital--
    When did you give birth?
    It was April 17th, 1941?
    Yes.
    So it's a few months after the ghetto was sealed,
    that you're in the ghetto.
    And then you get sick?
    I got sick.
    Yeah.
    And what happened?
    I got sick after that.
    After I gave birth, I got sick.
    I was afraid what's going to happen.
    Stress, thyroid, stress-- what's happened
    to Irena or this and that.
    Michal will be taken away--
    you just live without--
    not tomorrow or so the next hour we live.
    And this was a terrible--
    and the hospital, I was--
    when I was operated on, there was not any antibiotics at all.
    They cut me all over because I was full of infection here.
    And it was 1 millimeter from my main vein.
    And the doctor Arik Heller, as I spoke,
    he's in Sweden now he was at the operation.
    He was altogether so that I'm a miracle that I'm alive.
    It was all that.
    But this was-- Irena was about, at the time, a few months old.
    It was a terrible--
    you didn't know what tomorrow will bring.
    The raids were tremendous.
    They surrounded blocks and blocks.
    And you couldn't get out.
    And the old people went one side to the camps.
    The young ones went here.
    You couldn't even figure out what's going to happen.
    What should they do?
    Nobody knew.
    We knew one thing, we're all going to perish.
    You knew that?
    It was going on like that every day.
    They come up--
    Michal was constantly running to the underground every day
    and keeping with them what's going on and so on.
    And the first thing he came back and said, what about England?
    What about America?
    Didn't you hear anything?
    You're not going to help?
    We were all surprised.
    So it was a very tragic time.
    They were killing and killing and killing and more
    and more deaths on the streets constantly, And more raids,
    and then the Judenrat started to try to get a little organized.
    And the Jewish militia came.
    And they were so caught up with it
    because they said if you bring a certain amount of Jews,
    your family will stay alive, you know the oldest tricks.
    They believed in it.
    And they brought nothing help.
    There were a few--
    they bombed the underground and killed a few policemen.
    But that didn't help.
    One policeman help us.
    But he was once a Bundist then became a policeman.
    We were also going--
    but this was later already, towards the end,
    the Umschlagplatz, Michal holding Irena
    and I. If you want to hear it now, I'll tell you,
    how they raided.
    But this was the period of--
    and then when I was in the hospital at the time--
    it wasn't the hospital.
    It was the pen club, the tremendous apartment
    they made into the hospital in the ghetto.
    As I told you, they didn't have any medications.
    But they had to operate on me.
    And I was lying in a room for the nurses, which
    is as narrow as this is.
    But they put a cot there for me, so I wouldn't
    be with all the people.
    And the doctors came to me there.
    There came a day when they said that they're going
    to take away the hospitals.
    And my doctors were the best surgeons
    in Warsaw because of the nurses.
    And Genia knew them.
    She wanted them to operate on me.
    They were taken the night before from their houses away.
    I never heard of them later on.
    And then the next day, the whole hospital
    would be evacuated with all the sick to get away with them.
    So Genia and Michal came the day before.
    And we were on the third floor.
    They put their hands like that.
    They put me on their hands and brought me up
    to the house at that time.
    What month is that?
    Do you have any--
    22nd of July.
    Oh my.
    My birthday.
    The beginning of the deportation,
    that's your birthday?
    22nd of July.
    This is the biggest evacuation for Treblinka.
    This is started, 22nd of July.
    So are you in the hospital May and June
    after the birth of Irena for a couple of months--
    Later.
    --or later?
    Irena was born in April.
    Yes, this is when it was.
    This is when it was.
    Let's take a break now.
    OK.
    And we'll start with your--
    Rose, before we start with after you came out
    of the hospital, July 20, 21, 1942,
    I wanted to ask you some questions about [INAUDIBLE]..
    OK.
    Was there an argument in your family
    about whether you should learn the Polish language
    and where you should learn it?
    It wasn't a matter of learning.
    My Polish language just came naturally.
    From the moment I was born and raised, we spoke Polish.
    It was the parents who spoke Yiddish.
    But the main, really, conversations was among us.
    It was always in Polish.
    And when I went to school--
    I supposed to go to school--
    there was a question.
    Should I go to a Folkshul, which is in Yiddish,
    or should I go to a public school in Polish?
    And my sister-- the oldest one, who was a teacher herself--
    said, absolutely to a Polish school,
    because I don't want her to go into the street
    and be afraid that somebody is going to beat her up
    when she speaks Yiddish.
    And this was the general atmosphere.
    But some people-- the Folkshul was
    very popular among the workers, the Bundists, particular.
    There was also the Paole Zion schools in Yiddish.
    [? Nellie's ?] mother was a teacher in the Paole Zion.
    But in my family, they said, absolutely.
    My sister said-- the oldest one-- absolutely.
    And my mother and father went along with my sister.
    She was a teacher.
    She knew what's going on in the schools, and so on.
    And I went to a public school in Polish,
    because this was-- if you speak Yiddish,
    you are always in risk.
    And they didn't want me to have this as a main language.
    When you were working in the library,
    you were given an assignment to create a list of 100 books.
    Could you tell us that story?
    Yes.
    As I told you before, I was cataloging and putting
    in categories different books.
    And the workers came and always asked,
    could you give me a good book, something to read?
    And when I spoke to the director of the library,
    he said to me, Rozka why won't you
    write down a list of 100 books so, when the people come
    in and want to take a book out, they
    could see on the list what they should take?
    And I decided to do that.
    So I put down on the list of 103 books--
    I know exactly-- from different categories and countries.
    And there was the Scandinavian countries,
    and American literature, and of course Polish literature,
    French, all kind--
    everything in translation, of course, into Polish,
    not in the original languages.
    So I put down a list of 103 books.
    And Russian literature was a very, very modern
    at the time to read the Russian literature translated
    into Polish.
    And I went to a Mrs. Dubnow Erlich.
    Dubnow is a daughter of a famous historian.
    Dubnow wrote the history of the Jews.
    And she was, herself, a poet.
    She was writing poetry in still Russian
    and knew excellent Polish literature-- all together,
    very intelligent and very well educated.
    Her two sons were professors, one at Columbia,
    the one who passed away.
    And then one is in Yale.
    And she was there.
    And I made an appointment with her.
    And I said, Mrs. Dubnow, I want to come and have your opinion,
    because I didn't want to rely on myself that this is right.
    So I left with her the list of 100 books.
    And she studied it.
    Then I called her.
    And she said, would you come up?
    Let's have a discussion about it.
    And then she accepted the 100 books, but one,
    which was called Człowiek zmienia skórę.
    In English, would it be A Person Changes His Skin.
    It was written by Bruno Jasienski,
    who was a communist once.
    And it means that becoming--
    changing his ideas, ideology.
    That's what he meant-- that the person changes his skin.
    She didn't want to put it in.
    She didn't want-- she was a little bit--
    she was a Bundist, but she didn't want
    to start with the Communist.
    This was my feeling at that time, as young as I was.
    And I felt it should be there.
    And we had a big discussion about it.
    And she told me, if you feel so strongly about it,
    let's leave it.
    The funniest thing was, when I came to the United States
    and I came to visit her, she says to me,
    Rozka I remember how you argued with me about that book,
    that we had the discussion about the book.
    I was beside myself.
    How could she remember such a stupid thing?
    And the chutzpah of me to argue with her--
    but she says, let's take it out.
    I had three other books in case.
    But this was--
    I was glad that she remembered.
    So you did leave it in.
    True, yeah.
    She says, if you feel so strongly about it,
    she let me in.
    [INAUDIBLE]
    Nothing would happen, but she wanted to make her point.
    And I stood up.
    I wanted to ask you a couple of questions about Michal--
    this is before the war-- and your relationship.
    You used to help him with his homework?
    You see, they had project for their exams--
    to make a project.
    He was an engineer.
    And they made-- a mechanical engineer.
    They used to make all kind of machines and--
    what is it called, what they have
    when they build the buildings, and they have the big--
    The crane?
    The crane.
    Yeah, the cranes.
    All kind of things, which is connected with force,
    with pressure, so on, so on.
    And he used to make on big paper--
    he used to make all these kinds of drawings.
    But he made it in pencil.
    And this had to be done in ink.
    So when he did it, I was very scrupulous, very
    always detailed.
    So he said, why don't you do it in ink, because I have to do--
    I have to study for my exam, or something like that.
    And I did it.
    So I was working very diligently and very accurately.
    And he was very happy about it.
    He had help.
    Other students who had to work, make a living,
    they had to give it to somebody.
    And interesting-- they were called-- you know how?
    Negroes, [POLISH] in Polish, because [POLISH]----
    it means to do it in black.
    This is what they called it.
    And they had to pay for that a lot of money.
    But I wasn't paid.
    But I helped him a lot in that.
    Rose, I asked you, when you were growing up,
    whether you had Polish friends, or whether you
    were involved in any way.
    And you said, no.
    But was there a change in your life in that respect when
    you met Michal?
    Oh, yes, because Michal was already--
    he went at that time to the university.
    And he belonged to the Bund.
    And they had a very close relationship with the PPS.
    This is Polska Partia Socjalistyczna.
    This is like the Bund in the Jewish.
    And this is the Polska, this Polish party, Socjalistyczna.
    And over there, there was also a sports club
    called Skra where the Jutrznia and Skra used to meet.
    And Gina, Michal's sister, had a lot of friends
    because she was also an athlete, Gina,
    in the sport club in Jutrznia.
    And they had all kind of sport games together.
    And she had very close friends in the Polish club.
    And among them was one Marysia Sawicka,
    who was a tremendous help to us later on on the Aryan side when
    we went out.
    And Michal also had a lot of friends there.
    And he had a contact later on when
    he was going out from the ghetto for ammunition, and so on.
    It was the Polish friend from the PPS.
    So it wasn't-- at my age, at that time,
    my contacts wasn't the same as theirs were.
    And then we were all--
    we had a very good contact with them.
    And they helped us tremendously.
    Were you surprised at his--
    No.
    No?
    Not at all, no, because we always
    felt that we have to be brothers, whoever you are.
    There even was a song about it--
    Black and white, all kinds of colors.
    You should be brothers.
    No, absolutely not.
    This was our idea.
    [INAUDIBLE]
    So not only because it helped you,
    but you thought it was important that you
    would be able to have this kind of relationship.
    Of course, yeah.
    Of course.
    And frankly, also when I went to the Aryan side,
    I contacted a woman whom I knew, a Polish woman,
    and asked her where to go, where to be.
    And she helped us also.
    And there was a place-- a friend of [? Wnorowska. ?]
    She was a seamstress.
    And we used to work there.
    And we used to meet there.
    And even [? Vladka ?] was coming there also, a lot of people.
    This was my contribution, this address.
    [? Samarch ?] was a marvelous person.
    No, on the contrary.
    But as a child, as a youngster, I
    didn't have the contact was them.
    But it wasn't, though, that I would separate.
    It just was coincidental then?
    Coincidental, that's right.
    Yeah, absolutely.
    OK.
    When we ended the last tape, we ended
    where you were taken out of the hospital by Gina and Michal
    because there was going to be an Aktion.
    And it was the huge deportation, the beginning
    of the huge deportation.
    Yes.
    Were you still very sick when they took you?
    No, I was better already.
    I could walk.
    I could walk.
    It was still--
    I was very weak, but I could walk.
    Not that I could be on my own, but I could walk,
    and I could do certain things.
    But the raids were constantly terrible.
    In one of the raids, we all had to come down.
    Michal got some kind of an Ausweis.
    You know what's an Ausweis?
    It is some kind of a permit from a certain place.
    This is through the Judenrat.
    We had somebody there.
    And he got it that he is working here and there,
    which wasn't true.
    He wasn't working there.
    But that he's working--
    he's needed as an engineer, and so on.
    So we all had to go down.
    And my in-laws-- and there was her sister also, Guta Schulman,
    as I said--
    and my mother, myself and Irena, holding her, and Michal.
    We all were standing in the court there.
    But they said who has Ausweis could take out his wife,
    or a child, whatever it is.
    And Michal approached one of these.
    And they let me out with Irena.
    And the rest went to the Umschlagplatz.
    And this was-- my mother was standing with me.
    And I knew this is the end.
    I knew this is the end.
    It was.
    And we went back upstairs with Irena.
    Gina wasn't there.
    Gina that was very often in the Umschlagplatz
    going with her uniform as a nurse,
    smuggling out people whom she knew.
    She wasn't there.
    And then, when she found out that our area was raided,
    she came running, and she found us.
    She was beside herself.
    Her parents were gone.
    And my mother was gone.
    Rose, did you know then where they were going?
    We knew already--
    You did?
    --because they was here.
    There was a friend of ours, Friedrich, Sigmund Friedrich.
    He went with the train.
    He got attached to the train somehow.
    And he went up to Treblinka.
    And he saw what's happening.
    And he came back with this news that everybody's
    being gassed over there.
    He knew all right.
    So we knew already.
    The 22nd of July, we knew already what it is.
    There were times when they were promising before that,
    we'll give you a few pounds of bread, and then something--
    sugar, or whatever it is--
    and come to another place.
    And some people went for it.
    They were hungry, and they went for that.
    But we knew already.
    Had you all heard about the Einsatzgruppen in 1941
    when they started the war against Russia--
    that they were mass shootings?
    Did you hear about that?
    Of course we knew already.
    We knew about it, yeah.
    We knew about it.
    So you knew this was all a death sentence in some way?
    Oh, we knew.
    Yeah.
    Yeah.
    And then was the other time.
    After that, I was only with Michal, Gina, and the baby.
    That's it.
    Another raid of the building, and they
    were running, the Jewish policemen.
    They were running up to look into the apartments
    whether somebody was hidden or not.
    And they would take down, because if they'll
    bring people, his family will be saved.
    This is how they brought the people.
    And we heard this, and we decided not to go down--
    Michal.
    And to keep Irena quiet, we went in a very far corner
    of the apartment.
    They cannot see us.
    And we left the doors open so they'll
    think that nobody's there.
    And we heard them running up.
    There was another floor--
    running up, and down, and opening
    the doors, and [? heaved ?] around, and looked in.
    And I was keeping Irena on a table, dressed.
    We were all dressed to go.
    I was keeping her on the table the pushing into her mouth
    candies so she cannot scream, she cannot talk,
    she cannot do anything.
    And I was pushing and pushing in her mouth.
    She didn't-- not a sound.
    And they just glanced in and went.
    They didn't anything?
    No.
    They didn't see us.
    Of course not.
    And Gina heard again that--
    she came in, and she was frantic.
    She started to cry, [? It's ?] time [? now. ?]
    It must have been terrifying.
    There is no expression for that.
    And then, when we decided--
    I'll tell you, there came a point
    when I couldn't make any more decisions.
    I didn't have the strength.
    Michal was doing all the decisions, all the time.
    I couldn't do that.
    And it was a raid.
    This was the last time.
    And there were columns going the street.
    And we had to go.
    It was the column.
    We couldn't already get out.
    And there was a wide street, the Zamenhof Street,
    going to the Umschlagplatz.
    And there was one Jewish militia man who was once in the Bund.
    I knew him, too.
    Michal knew him.
    I knew him.
    And we were in the back.
    And he came over to us.
    He was watching so that nobody should escape.
    He came over to us and said, Michal, go to the front,
    to the very front, and I'll watch.
    And somehow, he got to the very--
    Michal was carrying Irena.
    And I was walking--
    hardly walking, but walking.
    And we came to it.
    And Michal told me, you see on that corner, the [? Kupiecka ?]
    Street?
    There is a tremendous--
    what's it called-- kiosk, a round one, but very wide.
    He said, when we come to that kiosk--
    I was the first one on the sidewalk--
    you go to the right.
    I said, I'm-- in the back, the Germans were standing
    and shooting.
    Whoever would move, they shoot.
    I said, Michal, I cannot do that.
    He said, you're going to do that.
    And when we came to the corner, he gave me such a push.
    And I went to the front of that kiosk,
    because it was hidden a little bit for the column.
    And then Michal came with the baby.
    And we're standing until everybody passed by.
    It's hard to describe.
    When they passed by, we cross the street.
    And there was an empty building already.
    Everything was open.
    And we hid there for awhile.
    And then we passed.
    We came home, back.
    But this was already about two blocks from the Umschlagplatz.
    But if he wouldn't then--
    but he made all the decisions at that time.
    I couldn't anymore.
    And then he decided that we're going out after that,
    and that we're going to our ex-mate, who
    was the living in Prague.
    The Vistula divided Prague like Bronx, let's say, in Manhattan.
    And she live in there.
    And she was like--
    in French, they have the concierge.
    So she was taking care of the buildings, cleaning
    and everything.
    And she knew everybody who comes in and who goes.
    She had no husband.
    She has a daughter.
    And we decided to go there.
    And how we went there--
    we went with the so-called placówka.
    They were collecting people for work in different directions
    coming out of the ghetto, going to that place,
    and then coming back.
    So we took the baby.
    And you could take the baby at that time to different places
    to work.
    And we went out.
    And on the other side, on the Aryan side,
    we stepped again away from the column in a certain moment.
    And did he pick the moment?
    Always.
    I never did anything.
    I was very passive at that time.
    I had the baby.
    I was thinking about the baby.
    I wasn't too well, and so on.
    He always picked this.
    He always made all the--
    since that moment, he made always all the decisions.
    And we got into a streetcar and went there.
    When she looked at us, she paled.
    She was pale.
    She was afraid.
    And we told her that it's only for a few days
    until we find something.
    Didn't have any papers, nothing.
    We took off all the armbands, and this is how we did.
    In the column, as we were marching,
    we took off the bands.
    And this is how we got there.
    So she said that she'll find--
    he was running around with different paper, no paper,
    and said, I'll get a birth certificate
    of her sister, who was in Germany
    working for the Germans.
    She was taken by the Germans.
    So there is no reason.
    She wasn't afraid.
    She went over there.
    It was in a--
    it was a country there, a village called Gleboczyce.
    And she got me the paper there.
    And she said that I can go there to this village.
    And I can stay with so-and-so.
    The name of that peasant was [? Patoka, ?]
    a tall, old man, gray.
    She was very vivacious-- with a son.
    And I went there with Irena.
    I stayed.
    Michal took me there.
    And he left for Warsaw.
    He couldn't stay there.
    Michal couldn't stay there.
    He shouldn't have, because the less people, the better.
    And I was staying there for awhile.
    This is how we got out on the Aryan side.
    I was staying there for awhile.
    How did you get there?
    Did you walk?
    No, by train.
    By train.
    Yeah, was all a risk.
    This is all a risk.
    Every--
    Did Michal have papers now, too, or not?
    Not yet.
    Not yet, yeah.
    He had the Ausweis that he is working.
    This was so he looked as an Aryan.
    So there was no problem with him.
    No problem-- it was always a problem.
    Then, one time, one of the workers from his factory
    met him in the street.
    They said, Mr. Engineer, what are you doing here?
    He knew that he is Jewish.
    And he gave him shelter later on.
    He was-- well, this is another story.
    But this is how we got into the country with Irena
    for a few days.
    We were there for a few weeks.
    And--
    How were you at that time during those few weeks?
    Did Michal come back and forth?
    Yes.
    Yes, he came back and forth.
    Yeah.
    Every few days or--
    No, every week, something like that.
    Yeah, for a week, whenever he could.
    He had things to do also in Warsaw, preparing for whatever.
    He was very active with the fighting organization.
    He was very active there.
    Did you know what he was doing at that time?
    Not exactly.
    Not exactly.
    I knew that he is involved, but not exact.
    He didn't tell me.
    So over there, it was interesting.
    They loved Irena, the little baby.
    And he sometimes took her on his knee, the peasant.
    Mr. [? Patoka ?] took her on her knee.
    And they were eating potato balls
    made like matzah balls, potato balls.
    So he took a piece into his mouth.
    He made it soft, and he gave it to her.
    I was looking at it, and I was dying,
    but didn't say a word about it.
    There was a little wooden thing for them
    to give food to the pigs.
    They brought it in.
    So I washed it.
    I put it in water, and I bathed Irena.
    I took her to the fields.
    And I could pick the--
    what's it called?
    Peas-- the green peas in this.
    I took it out, and I gave it.
    I took carrots.
    I graded them.
    I squeezed out juice to have for her, the juice, the carrot
    juice, some vitamins.
    And when the woman, the peasant, she saw this, she says,
    we give it to the pigs, why do you give it to the baby?
    These kind of things-- very primitive, but kind.
    And I think that the soltys--
    you know what's the soltys?
    The elders of the village who was carrying on everything.
    I think that he guessed who I am.
    But he never said anything.
    But the one day, he came.
    And he said, the Germans are coming for the boys and girls.
    It would be good for you to disappear
    from here with the child.
    I think I wrote about it.
    You read it.
    Michal isn't here.
    I have no address for Michal.
    He was one here, and one night there.
    I didn't know what to do.
    I had a few Polish zlotys, but I didn't know what to do.
    And I had to go, because if he came to me
    and said it in a nice way that he didn't want me to--
    he knew that I wouldn't survive with the child.
    He said I have to disappear, I have to disappear.
    And he said, that peasant, that there is a brother
    of his wife near Tluszcz.
    Tluszcz was the station where the train
    stopped for Treblinka.
    Tluszcz, Malkinia, and Treblinka-- this was the route.
    He is a smith, and so we can take you there, and maybe
    until your husband will come.
    He'll find you.
    Well, it was quite a few miles.
    I was carrying Irena with the rest of my strengths.
    He was carrying a little package-- what I had.
    I had [? parcels. ?] And we came there.
    Well, they were very nice to us, because he
    says my husband should come, and they'll take me away.
    It's only a matter of a few days.
    So she was very nice.
    But somebody passed by from the village
    where I was before in the [? Gleboczyce ?] who said,
    she was there.
    Why is she here?
    She is probably Jewish.
    This was it.
    So she came in--
    the wife-- and said, you cannot stay here anymore,
    you have to go.
    And then I decided to go to Warsaw.
    What do I do?
    I don't know where--
    no address, no nothing.
    And Michal wouldn't know where I am.
    So I said, OK, tomorrow I'll go.
    You'll take me there to the station, and I'll go.
    So then I put Irena to sleep for a nap before the trip.
    Trip's supposed to be 1 O'clock, 2 O'clock.
    I don't remember.
    And she slept.
    And I was standing at the window.
    And I was crying.
    And suddenly, I see somebody passing by--
    Michal.
    And I started to run after him.
    Until I came out, he was very fast walking.
    He didn't know anything.
    And he didn't hear me.
    He didn't hear me screaming, Michal.
    So I took a stone.
    I threw at him.
    So then he turned around, said, what are you doing here?
    And I told him the whole story.
    This was a miracle, complete miracle.
    So he came into the apartment and then met the smiths.
    He said-- he was talking to him and just looking him
    up and down.
    And he said, what are you doing?
    He said, oh, I am a mechanic, this, that.
    So he looks at his hand and said, you are not a mechanic.
    Doesn't look like it.
    We left.
    With Michal, we left.
    And he took me to--
    We're afraid of the train.
    People were-- this was a station that everybody
    was running here and there.
    So he took me there.
    And he took me to Warsaw.
    We took a carriage.
    The same is standing in Central Park.
    And we got off about two blocks before the destination,
    which was a very old-- she was a concierge, that woman, for that
    building where he took me.
    And this was a very narrow, little room
    where there were already three women living--
    the owner, the concierge with a little boy.
    And I come in with Irena and Michal.
    He found it.
    Somebody told him.
    But he lived not far away.
    One block away, he lived, slept.
    This was the worker who he met in the street.
    What are you doing?
    And he gave him--
    said that he can stay with him.
    He was very nice to him.
    He was helping for a while, and then he changed his mind
    and started to talk.
    So we went there.
    And I had a little, narrow bed for Irena and myself.
    And we contacted Gina.
    She was working in Warsaw.
    And Gina came.
    And what do we do?
    We cannot stay here.
    Everybody will know.
    And we decided to separate Irena from us
    for her to be safe, because we knew that we'll
    perish this way, another way.
    It's impossible to live through the whole thing, impossible.
    So let Irena stay, at least.
    And we talked it over with Gina.
    And Gina said, I have somebody.
    She said, where she gave her exam
    for nursing, which was international-- the Ministry.
    She had to go through the Ministry of Health
    and Education--
    Dr. Zachert.
    She seemed to me a very nice person,
    she said, when examined me.
    I'll call her.
    She called her.
    She had already the papers.
    And she called her.
    And she said she wanted to see her because she want advice
    from her.
    She said, of course, come--
    very nice person.
    And she went up.
    And when she told her over the phone
    that she's on the [? Juzwiak ?],, she said,
    you are not [? Juzwiak ?].
    You are a Gina Klepfisz.
    Please come in.
    And she told her the story.
    She has a brother, and a sister-in-law,
    and a baby, and a sad situation.
    What can we do?
    She was also the director of the orphanage, Boduena,
    Priest Boduen, it was called.
    She says, I can take the baby to the orphanage as an orphan.
    But not knowing that she's an orphan,
    she has to be left in the street, and I'll take her over.
    And here starts the whole thing.
    So it was a very difficult decision, but we have to do it.
    Let's stop.
    All right, let's stop for a moment.
    So we talked with Michal over how it was going to be.
    We have to put a name on her.
    And Dr. Zachert will wait in the square so-and-so.
    And somebody has to come with Irena,
    and just leave her, and go away, and she'll pick her up.
    So I said to Michal, I'm not going to do that.
    I can't.
    You have to do it.
    And Gina that was also there, in the square,
    someplace with Dr. Zachert.
    So he said, OK.
    He has to do it.
    I said good bye to Irena.
    He took her and left.
    I was beside myself.
    So Michal went there to the square.
    He saw, from afar, Dr. Zachert.
    And he saw Gina, too.
    And he went to Gina.
    He said, I'm not going to do that.
    You do it.
    And Gina did it.
    She went close to Dr. Zachert, and sit down on the bench,
    and said to [? Irka, ?] wait here a second,
    I just go for something, for whatever.
    But sit here.
    And she was playing with something.
    And she left.
    The moment she left, Dr. Zachert came and took the baby.
    This is how she got to Boduena.
    So at least I knew that she was going to be
    safe over there, no raids.
    How old was she, Rose, when that [INAUDIBLE]??
    A year and a half.
    But she talked already.
    She was very bright and very bright-- musical, very bright.
    She could sing what we're singing, melodies,
    the words sometimes.
    Then Gina asked what's going to happen to me.
    So she says, I have a sister with three children.
    That also belong to the People's Party, the Partia Ludowa,
    which were Catholics, deep Catholics, but believed
    in Christ, that they have to help people, and so on.
    And she said, maybe she'll come there and be
    the housekeeper, the maid.
    And she said, but she'll have to be reviewed,
    to have a few reviews with them--
    my Polish, my behavior, my [INAUDIBLE] [? gesticulation ?]
    the Jews have all together.
    And this would be a good place for her.
    And they have to look at her, how she looks.
    My eyes were already prominent at that time.
    You'll see another picture of me before that.
    It was because of thyroid.
    Gina immediately knew what it is when I got up in the morning
    and my eyes were prominent.
    I never had these kind of eyes.
    So I went there.
    It was a three times interview.
    Meanwhile, before that, I was in that room
    where I lived, where we came from, with all these women.
    They were prostitutes.
    And they had all their business in the street.
    They came in middle of the night or whatever.
    I didn't know about it.
    I wouldn't even think about.
    Michal didn't know about it.
    And one evening, it was very rainy.
    And they couldn't do their business in the street.
    So they invited two men.
    And there was a curtain over there.
    And I was sitting there, reading.
    What do I do?
    I was reading something.
    Someone said, why can't she give?
    Said, leave her alone, she has a husband.
    So what's this?
    But let it go.
    So I told them that next time, that
    when they have some guests in their house to let me
    know, and I'll go out.
    And they did it one day.
    It was very cold, or something like that.
    They said to take only 5, 10 minutes till come back.
    But don't go around.
    They were very good people, very good women, really.
    They loved Irena.
    She didn't cry at night all the time.
    So they told me to go, and I went out.
    And I was walking around the block.
    It was evening around block, so I wasn't afraid
    that somebody can catch me.
    And I was walking probably for a half an hour or more even.
    And then I hear somebody grabs me.
    It was one of them--
    said, what do you think going on such a cold time all around?
    Why don't you come back?
    I told you it takes only 5, 10 minutes, that's all.
    You can get pneumonia or something like that.
    Come in.
    So these were the women.
    Then also, when I gave away the baby, when
    I said it's going to my cousin, [INAUDIBLE] says,
    why did you do that?
    We could take care of her if you wouldn't.
    And we said, I'm going to work.
    He is going to work.
    If a Jew wouldn't be able to take it,
    we would take care of them.
    They were good women.
    And they loved Irena, because she didn't cry.
    They were afraid in the beginning that--
    who knows-- the baby would cry.
    So this was the story before I went for the interviews.
    How long did you stay in that room with those women?
    Do you have any recollection?
    About two weeks, probably.
    Yeah, probably two weeks, because we
    arranged with Irena quite fast.
    We were afraid, for every day, somebody would say, that Jews,
    so they will take away it.
    So Gina arranged it, and Dr. Zachert.
    And I was waiting for about two weeks, I would say.
    And while you were waiting to hear the news about whether you
    could go to the sister, did you keep hearing that Irena was--
    did you get news about Irena in the orphanage or not?
    Not at that time.
    Not at that time, no.
    No, not at that time.
    But I knew that she will take care of her.
    I knew that.
    You trusted that.
    I trust.
    Absolutely, yeah.
    I trusted that she's safe there.
    This is why I did it.
    If I would have any doubts, I wouldn't do it,
    because if doubts, I can have outside too, then I
    don't have to give her away.
    But I was sure that she--
    bombing, bombardment.
    The Germans are coming.
    So I went there for the interviews.
    And of course, I passed it.
    And I was like a mother to the children instead of my own.
    I tutored them.
    She told me-- and her sister, Dr. Zachert
    told me-- he was also engineer, an architect.
    The whole building was of architects,
    a co-op of architects--
    intelligent, nice people.
    And they said that the house was never in such an order,
    never in their life.
    The oldest son was 14 years old--
    Mirek, gorgeous.
    He was really gorgeous, beautiful.
    He helped me a lot.
    He didn't know-- the children didn't
    know who I am, that I'm Jewish.
    Only the parents-- and, of course, Zachert--
    did.
    They come very often.
    They used to come for holidays.
    They get together, and this and that.
    And she said-- her name was [? Rouba. ?]
    The wife.
    The wife, yeah, yeah.
    Halina.
    Yes.
    And he was [? Yusef. ?] And Mirek, Ewa, and Julek,
    the three children, they loved me
    because I was constantly spending time with them
    tutoring, because schools was--
    Mirek was going to school, but it was underground.
    They shouldn't have schools.
    Children couldn't go to school.
    And to wash them, and sew--
    I was sewing for them.
    When they were sick, only they wanted me.
    And whenever I was going marketing, she said,
    [? Mireczku, ?] you always have to go with Miss [? Pani ?]
    [? Lodziu. ?] I was [? Lodziu ?] [? Lowakatya. ?]
    What was your new name?
    [? Lodziu ?] [? Lowakatya ?] [? Sheletska. ?] This is what I
    got in the country that my--
    I have the Kennkarte.
    And always go marketing with, because it's difficult for her.
    You know she's tiny.
    And he said, yes, of course.
    Whenever he used to leave the apartment,
    he used to bring me coal from the cellar
    and all kinds of-- the heavy things, he used to bring me.
    When he used to leave the house, he used to come,
    [? Pani ?] [? Lodziu, ?] may I go, this way.
    He was very nice.
    And the children, the two younger children--
    she was going once a week to another town
    where she had an uncle, a priest, to Lowicz,
    and bring food--
    sour cream, butter, cheeses, all kind of things.
    A lot of it, he'd have to prepare for her when she's
    coming, because she could sell to the neighbors,
    because we couldn't get it.
    And she didn't take much money.
    Before that, she had herself what she made from them.
    She could pay for her own to have for the family.
    So she was free to go for a few days, for two days, three days,
    because I took care of the family.
    So it was a double thing.
    And not to make me feel bad, she was paying me 80 zlotys a month
    that I'm working for it, not that I'm giving this.
    Through her, I had a telephone there.
    Michal could call me.
    And I had a lot of contacts.
    Over there was living one woman also.
    She was a teacher.
    And she was very nice.
    She probably guessed.
    We never talked about it, but I'm sure
    she guessed who I am, what I am--
    who I am, whatever.
    And I found another one, also a friend of hers,
    of that woman, where I could put my friend
    Halina [? Ellenbogen. ?] She was also a maid someplace.
    She was always with swollen knees,
    because she was on the floor washing the floors.
    I never did this kind of a thing.
    And she was crying, and this and that.
    But she looked very well, really Aryan.
    She was to come up to me.
    And I gave her a place to live not far from me.
    She was also a teacher.
    And then I gave her the place with Dr. Zachert in Boduena.
    So she saw Irena every day.
    And so she had the apartment I arranged for her.
    She had the books, and French literature,
    all kinds of things.
    She was so proud of that after being
    a maid working with the floor and the work
    she had in Boduena.
    And she could see Irena every day.
    And I got the reports from her about Irena.
    But then one day, in the beginning,
    I wanted to see Irena.
    So I started the walk there.
    It wasn't too far from me.
    It was far enough, but not too bad.
    I could walk.
    I didn't have to take the train, which I was avoiding.
    And the children were going from one side
    of the street to the other to play with a garden.
    And I knew, from afar, I could see Irena.
    And one day, I decided to go to Irena, to pick up her hand.
    And I said, I'll help you to cross the street.
    And she gave me her hand.
    And she looked at me.
    And she walked with me.
    And the nun came, and she started screaming at me.
    You know that you are not allowed to touch our children.
    You can give them some kind of infection, which is true.
    It was typhus in the city, and all this kind.
    I said, I'm sorry.
    I'll never do it again.
    So I left Irena, and I walked away.
    And she said, Mommy.
    I got scared.
    I was afraid that the nun heard, but she didn't.
    I never went again.
    She recognized me.
    It was after a few months.
    She was crying the first three months, I heard.
    Dr. Zachert told me that.
    At night, she was crying.
    And then-- I have a very sharp instinct.
    I don't know how it happens, but it is so.
    I can somehow figure out things.
    I was cooking something.
    I was preparing dinner.
    And I had a dish with peeled potatoes to put in the water,
    put into the pot.
    And I was thinking about [? Irka. ?] And I said,
    [? Irka ?] is very sick.
    And everything fell down the floor.
    I didn't understand why.
    So then I called--
    I didn't call.
    I called Dr. Zachert.
    And I said, I have a feeling, like I said,
    that Irena is very sick.
    She said, yes, it's true.
    She had-- she still has a mark on her leg.
    She had some kind of infection.
    And even the priest wanted to come.
    But she was very sick.
    And then, somehow, she got out of it.
    I'm going to have to change the tapes,
    so let's take a break, OK?
    [TEST TONE]
    Rose, I want to go back a little,
    because we forgot a very sweet story about Irena
    and milk and a cow.
    Can you tell us that story?
    Yes.
    You know, the ghetto, when it was established,
    and they calmed down a little bit, they settled down,
    there were places where they had cows.
    They took them to the field during the day, close by,
    and then, you know.
    Some never went out of the ghetto, too.
    And that I couldn't--
    I was breast feeding her, but not all of us had enough.
    And so once, she needed milk.
    And my doctors, they believed very much in fresh milk.
    So my mother-in-law found out where the cows are.
    They weren't too far from where we lived.
    And we decided to buy milk, fresh milk,
    because she was selling a lot of things
    to have money for every day.
    So we took-- we went the first time, I went, and bought milk.
    And she asked me, which cow do you want?
    To me, they look all the same.
    But I said, this cow.
    So she gave me milk from this cow.
    And from then on, I was always buying
    from the same cow the milk, because I
    was afraid maybe another cow could get sick,
    or something will happen to her, and then it will
    be a reflection on my Irena.
    So we had the milk all the time, whenever I bought,
    from the same cow.
    Was Irena hungry?
    Irena was never hungry.
    Maybe was in the orphanage, but I
    don't think the children were hungry in the orphanage,
    because they got some food.
    Whether it was good food or bad food, I don't know.
    But I'm sure that she was never hungry.
    She needed a lot of, let's say, other things,
    like fruit or chocolate, which I always sent in.
    And Dr. Zachert used to give her.
    Even my husband Michal, he went a few times to the orphanage
    and brought the chocolate and good things to Dr. Zachert
    so she can give it to her.
    And she was giving to her.
    I gave it to her, and she was giving very quietly
    to Irena something special.
    But when he went there, she was screaming at him.
    She said to never show up again, because it's
    very dangerous for the child.
    Nobody should know.
    Only the director of the orphanage
    knew, the woman, that she's a Jewish child.
    And I can-- only the mother can pick her up.
    This was her restriction, Dr. Zachert's,
    when Irena came to the orphanage.
    She said only I can pick her up and not
    to give the child to anybody, because people adopt,
    you know how it is.
    She looked as a very Aryan child.
    She was blonde.
    You'll see the photographs of her when she's a little child.
    So this is-- but I don't think Irena was hungry.
    So even in the ghetto, she wasn't hungry?
    I don't think so.
    No.
    And that-- look, she was the only child in our family,
    you know?
    And we could be hungry.
    I was not ever-- not all the time, you know.
    I had enough, believe me.
    But Irena, Irena had even fresh milk from the same cow.
    No, she wasn't hungry.
    Later on also she got--
    I would have very difficult time.
    But Irena usually had--
    everything comes to food, even clothes.
    Later on, you know, I was sewing,
    and [? Anka ?] was sewing for her.
    So we had.
    She was-- I don't think Irena suffered.
    When you described the deportation
    of your mother and your mother-in-law
    and father-in-law, there's a piece of the story
    that I think you didn't tell us about Gina
    seeing them at the umschlagplatz [INAUDIBLE]..
    Yes.
    Gina wasn't there when the raid was in the building.
    But she was the umschlagplatz, so she was in the hospital.
    But she saw them later on, on the umschlagplatz.
    And Maria was carrying her father's, with Miss Irena's
    great-grandfather, a golden watch, which the men always
    carried in the breast, with the chains, the golden chains.
    And she took this watch, and she gave it to Gina and said,
    this watch, this golden watch is for Irena,
    whenever she will need to have it to buy her out
    of whatever happens.
    But this is for this child.
    And she gave it to Irena.
    And then Gina-- and she gave it to Gina,
    and Gina gave it to me.
    And later on, I gave it to Dr. Zachert for her,
    when she was in the orphanage, with the address of the aunt
    here in the States.
    Inside the watch, I put in a little card
    with the address of Irena's grandmother's sister
    here in the States.
    But she was killed by the Ukrainians
    in the Polish uprising.
    Dr. Zachert was?
    With her husband.
    Yes.
    Yes.
    Hold on for a second.
    Rose, can you tell us how Dr. Zachert and her husband
    were killed?
    In the Polish uprising.
    It was 1944, you know?
    The Ukrainians were there.
    The Latvians were there, the Lithuanians,
    on the side of Germany.
    And they were behaving terrible.
    They were drinking and killing.
    And this was the case with Dr. Zachert,
    because somebody told us what happened at the time.
    They took all the people down--
    they lived in a very fine neighborhood.
    This is where I was, not far from them.
    And they took them down to the court and just
    killed them and robbed them.
    And it's a time also when they, the watch was them.
    But this is what they were doing.
    OK.
    Before, I wanted to tell you about going back,
    my life is the [? Robas ?].
    That Helena Ellenbogen used to come up to me.
    Did I tell you that?
    She was the one who was living in the--
    she was [INAUDIBLE].
    Yes.
    I told you about that, that she was--
    I gave her the job in the [INAUDIBLE]..
    And at that time also, during that time, we used to go--
    meeting.
    Then I met Maria and Blanca, Maria Rosenbloom
    and Blanca Rosenberg.
    And how did you meet them?
    It was by pure accident.
    Helena Ellenbogen was before Medem Sanitorium.
    A sanitorium for children, sick children,
    under the auspices of Bund.
    Medem was one of the leaders, great leaders, from the Bund,
    really the theoretician of the Bund.
    And so there was a sanatorium named in his name,
    was the sanatorium.
    And during the war, she was there.
    [? Perelka ?] is really her name,
    Ellenbogen. It was also Bolek Ellenbogen and Anya Ellenbogen.
    This was the family.
    And after the liquidation of the Medem Sanatorium,
    in fact, Michal came there and told them one night
    that they can go out, but they didn't hear them.
    They were on another side of the--
    and this was, from Warsaw, quite a few miles.
    You know, about 10 or 15 miles they had to go by train.
    And they didn't hear him, but he went at night.
    Helena said that she heard him, but they
    couldn't come to that point, because they were afraid.
    So they came to Warsaw, you know?
    There was one woman, also a teacher in Medem Sanatorium,
    which was Helena was also young, and she took care of her.
    And she came to look for work.
    And at that time, Blanca and Maria were working
    at the Germans'.
    She probably told you.
    And she came to ask for work.
    There were Volksdeutsche, or Germans, the real Germans.
    And so she, Blanca, was the head maid
    over the housekeeper for the Germans.
    And she looked at her, and she says,
    my name is [? Sielizka, ?] which is a Polish name.
    So Blanca answered her.
    We had a lot of [? Sielizka ?] like that, you know?
    And through her, Helena came to Blanca and Maria.
    And as we were meeting constantly,
    you know, Sundays we-- we had all off.
    So we were meeting in one place, either Anya Ellenbogen,
    but she was working.
    Her mistress was going out.
    So we brought in Blanca and Maria also there.
    And sometimes we were going there
    because they could listen to the radio,
    to the-- you know, Germans could have radio.
    So we could listen to what's going on.
    So this is how I got--
    we were-- I want to tell you that during that time,
    we were meeting all these friends,
    and we were meeting Maria Sawicka,
    you know, who does the Anna Wachalska, who gave us
    a lot, a lot of help, particularly to Michal
    and Gina, when they-- when I was sick,
    they were taking care of her.
    But this was during the Aryan side,
    until the Polish uprising, '44.
    And during the Polish uprising--
    Could we go back?
    Because in some ways, we're moving faster.
    There's a period between October and November
    when Irena goes into the orphanage,
    and you're working at that house.
    Between that time and then the uprising in the Warsaw Ghetto,
    the Jewish uprising.
    And how much you're seeing Michal.
    Oh, the Jewish uprising, you're talking.
    There was a ghetto uprising.
    How much I was seeing--
    Seeing him.
    What did you know about what he was doing at that point.
    At that point, I knew already what he was doing.
    We were meeting constantly.
    We were meeting, and let's say sometimes I was staying there
    overnight too, that worker who met him in the street
    and said what are you doing here,
    he gave him shelter there.
    It was a basement or something like that, maybe.
    A low, you know, ground floor apartment.
    So he slept there.
    This was his place at that time.
    And we were meeting either there or other places,
    sometimes in a coffee shop, you know,
    which he knew was safe to go in a certain room or whatever.
    And he was writing a lot what's going on.
    And he was meeting with the leaders from the underground.
    And there was a special place also from the Bundist
    on [? Śrawia ?] Street.
    And he was leaving there the happenings, the events,
    which he was writing down every day.
    And I remember sitting once with him at a cafe.
    He was writing.
    I said, aren't you afraid?
    He said, no.
    This is-- you know.
    Have to leave something, what's happening now.
    He wrote every day.
    He was very, very--
    he started to mind that and to let
    people know what's happening.
    So we were meeting, I would say, once a week, for sure.
    When Mrs. [? Roba ?] thought that I
    am very depressed or something, she
    says, why don't you go meet her husband.
    Because whenever I come back from these meetings,
    I was elated.
    I was-- started to believe it will be the end of it.
    He always could put me in such mood, really.
    Don't-- be patient.
    You'll see.
    We will come through.
    We will take Irena.
    You know, these kinds of things.
    And I was always looking forward to the weekend, to see him.
    We used to meet constantly.
    And he used to tell me what's going on,
    what he is doing at that time.
    So did you know that he was creating
    the explosives and [INAUDIBLE].
    I knew that.
    --[INAUDIBLE] people.
    I knew that, yeah.
    I knew that.
    Were you torn about what he was doing?
    [SIGHS] Yes.
    I had a big conflict.
    Because this was very dangerous, what he's
    doing, that he was exposed.
    He was going in and out, because he looked well.
    But there are always those--
    they're called the [POLISH] Szmalcownik you know?
    They take money.
    And they can always spot you.
    And they even did Stefan that I am talking about--
    was sleeping.
    He later on started to get money from other people
    and were telling all kinds of stories.
    And he just cut off with him.
    He wouldn't have--
    He was living with [INAUDIBLE].
    He wouldn't harm Michal, but other people were coming.
    [NON-ENGLISH] was coming in there too sometimes.
    Because the connections with all that.
    So the big conflict was that.
    What is more important, I and the child or this?
    Had a tremendous conflict.
    But for him it was important.
    He couldn't do otherwise.
    Did you talk about the conflict together,
    or did you not feel able to do that?
    No.
    No.
    I couldn't do it to him.
    And the last time he called me, we
    had a telephone when I-- the [? Robas ?] had a telephone.
    He called me.
    This was before the seventh.
    It was about the 16th of April.
    It was Irena's birthday and his.
    And he called me, and he said that he
    is going back into the ghetto, because they
    know that we'll be coming.
    The Germans will come and surrounded the ghetto.
    And the fights will start.
    And I said at that time, maybe you want to go.
    He said, I must go.
    I didn't say anything anymore.
    This was it.
    And he wished me, you know, Irena and that.
    Was his birthday, 30th birthday.
    And Irena was how much?
    Two years old.
    I had a tremendous conflict for a long, long time,
    maybe up till now.
    Who knows?
    But what's more important?
    I cannot judge.
    We were very important to him.
    I know that.
    He left Irena.
    He felt when she was born that there's
    no other child who is more educated, more intelligent,
    than she is, or prettier than she is.
    So he was very proud, very proud of her.
    So this was-- we were meeting constantly in different places.
    You know, we were meeting.
    And later on, after the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, [SIGHS]
    we started to meet with other people.
    And they stay with Blanca and Maria
    and Anya Ellenbogen, Bolek Ellenbogen,
    and Helena Ellenbogen. Helena is also not her name,
    but Pearl is her name.
    And Helena was nearby me over there.
    She got a job.
    And Anya was still working as a maid.
    And Bolek was working in the construction business.
    So we used to meet.
    Sometimes we went to Maria Sawicka home
    and Anna Wachalska.
    And there was a time when Michal was grabbed in the street
    and going to Treblinka.
    He was in the train already.
    And he jumped.
    He jumped from the train, and the Germans shot.
    And it was-- he got it in his leg, the bullet.
    And he was-- couldn't walk.
    But he hid someplace in the field where he jumped from.
    And the first place, he waited till the morning.
    This was closer to the evening.
    Middle of the-- something.
    In the morning, he went to Maria Sawicka.
    And Anna Wachalska, they lived together.
    And they took him in, of course.
    Underneath, Gestapo lived.
    They had a big apartment, Gestapo.
    And there was no toilets there, that were there,
    so they had to carry out everything.
    But they did it.
    They were marvelous.
    They were really marvelous.
    They helped a lot to give such a shelter, you know?
    To many people.
    Particularly Gina.
    When Gina got sick, Gina got sick, and she died, you know?
    [SIGHS] Before the Polish uprising.
    She died in '42.
    She felt she had ulcers, and she couldn't function.
    She was very sick.
    And I wasn't from the strongest either.
    I had a small child.
    So she felt that she has to take care of us.
    The only way, being a nurse, knowing what's the matter,
    she can go for an operation.
    But this was a Polish hospital.
    How much care she--
    Michal didn't tell me.
    She talked to me about going for an operation.
    I said, never.
    I said, over my dead body you're going to go the hospital.
    Because I'm afraid they might not give too good care.
    And Michal didn't tell me that she went to the hospital.
    But I found out that she died in the hospital
    after the operation.
    And this was in December 1942.
    So another link of the family went.
    Can you tell me a little bit more of what she was doing?
    She seems to have been helping an awful lot of people
    in the umschlagplatz.
    And she was working in the hospital, too.
    It's that stupid hospital, you know, created.
    It wasn't a real hospital, it was just a made hospital.
    She was working there as a nurse.
    This is why I had the privilege of being in the nursing
    room and the nurses' room, you know,
    and having these doctors operating on me.
    But how did she have--
    who granted her the privilege of being at the umschlagplatz,
    and how did she start--
    On her own.
    On her own.
    This is on her own.
    Of course she put in her uniform, you know?
    It's a special uniform and such, on her own, with her hat.
    You will see it.
    You will see her hat.
    This is as a nurse.
    This was on her own.
    And the Germans [INAUDIBLE].
    At this time, they let in, you know, still
    this was the beginning of this.
    They let in at that time.
    So and she took them out for this case, this case.
    You know, they always could find some kind of excuse
    for the official people.
    She was like an official person.
    Gina was a marvelous person, really.
    She loved this baby like--
    she was a joy for the whole family in those circumstances.
    [INAUDIBLE]
    [SIGHS]
    You know, we've talked privately about luck and about how
    everything was so arbitrary.
    One didn't know from one moment to the next
    if one would be alive.
    That's right.
    This was, for example, you know, as I was going to meet Michal,
    let's say.
    And we always waited till the last moment,
    before the police time to get home.
    He was on one side of the city, I was on the other side,
    and I wanted to take the tram.
    And then I see that the street is empty.
    I was walking on the street.
    And then from afar, I seen an SS man walking, with his arm.
    And I don't know to pass or to cross to the other side.
    If I cross, it will be suspicious.
    I probably should go straight.
    And I went marching through him, straight, and I passed.
    Behind me, about 20 yards behind me,
    was I heard somebody walking.
    There's another woman.
    And he stopped her.
    Why not me, but her, who was probably Polish?
    Because who would risk these kind of things.
    He stopped her.
    I don't know what happened, but he stopped her.
    If he would stop me, it would be the end of me.
    With all my knowledge that the prayers and all that,
    I wouldn't pass.
    Because they can always hook up to something which
    I couldn't answer or be not true.
    Did you look Jewish in [INAUDIBLE]??
    I looked like nothing.
    I told you, I looked like nothing.
    Not this way, not this way.
    I looked like somebody doesn't matter,
    doesn't pay attention to me.
    I was wearing a hat.
    I was wearing a black coat.
    To look like nothing, you know.
    So you also tried to look like nothing.
    Of course.
    Of course, yes.
    Not to pay it--
    not to call attention to myself.
    I was dressed normally.
    Then Sundays, it was the main thing,
    when I was going out to meet this one or this one.
    This was that.
    Can you tell us about this dream that you have?
    Yes.
    When Michal was still alive, we were getting The Bulletin.
    It's called the Informative Bulletin, from London,
    we used to get.
    And I was-- this was underground.
    And I was picking it up some place,
    on a certain street, for the whole building.
    It was a co-op building for the engineers, architects
    and engineers.
    And they were all patriots, Polish patriots.
    So only the concierge was a little shaky for me.
    And he didn't know.
    If he would know, I wouldn't be there.
    If he would guess, even, I wouldn't be.
    He would finish with me to get some money from the Gestapo.
    And Michal was still alive.
    And I was--
    I had a dream.
    I woke up, and I was all wet.
    I dreamed that I see-- in that bulletin,
    I see a news item about Michal Klepfisz this year was caught
    while making arms and it was--
    and was killed, something like that.
    And I remember, it was page three.
    One, two, you know, the first page, number three.
    I couldn't believe it.
    And truly enough, it was 19--
    late '43.
    I get The Bulletin.
    Michal was already dead.
    It was the end of the year.
    I don't remember which month.
    It was the same news item.
    And he was awarded with the medal of Virtuti Militari,
    the only medal given to a Jew at the time
    of the Nazi occupation.
    How would this happen?
    I don't know.
    But this is a fact.
    Being still on the Aryan side, I had to have my Kennkarte.
    Let me-- can I stop you for a moment?
    How did you find out that he was killed?
    When did you find out?
    [SIGHS] I found out two weeks later, about 10 days later.
    Vladka came to tell me.
    It was a little unfortunate, the way she did it.
    But she wanted the best, probably, but she told me.
    We met Sunday, on my free day.
    She called me and--
    because I didn't hear from him at all.
    And the fighting was going on.
    And she got the contact from the ghetto.
    Marek Edelman was in his group with Michal with the--
    the whole group was there.
    And she found out.
    They let her know.
    But she didn't tell me for a little while.
    And she also-- probably it was difficult for her to tell me.
    And we met in the street, in the park.
    And she told me about that.
    So she knew longer than--
    for a longer time than she told you.
    For days longer.
    I don't know how many days.
    But it was later on.
    What did you mean it was unfortunate how she told you?
    She started to talk about other things, tried to make me laugh,
    this--
    you know, but forget about it.
    This is what I couldn't come to myself for a long time.
    This was the end.
    Right.
    Yes.
    Did the family help that you were staying with when
    you were-- did you tell them?
    Yes.
    Because they knew I am beside myself.
    They were very warm, very sympathetic.
    The children didn't know.
    So [INAUDIBLE] the children.
    [INAUDIBLE] my best friend, I'll tell you.
    You know what?
    So the children never knew who I was.
    Right.
    And so this was then.
    So then you had to start again, in a way, [? we know ?]..
    On my own, without any advice, to make my own decisions.
    And how to deal with the rest.
    And then came the offer, after a while, for the Hotel Polski.
    The director of that, you know, Guzik he was very well known.
    He was in the Judenrat.
    He was a persona grata.
    Said I can go to France with Irena.
    We were-- you know, the Jews paid thousands and thousands
    of dollars to get out.
    And they could-- they were all in that Hotel Polski.
    You know, the Hotel Polski.
    It was a hotel.
    Whoever paid was in this hotel, the Jews.
    And I went there twice, I remember,
    to visit some people to find out what it is and how it is.
    Who are going, who paid in and are going.
    And there was a woman, [NON-ENGLISH],,
    her husband was also a very famous Bundist and activist.
    And she had a son and a daughter overseas.
    And she was going.
    She paid in, because she sold--
    she was a dentist.
    She sold everything, her cabinet, this is--
    everything.
    And she had the money.
    She paid in, and she was going.
    So I came there, and she saw me.
    She says, look, I have two children.
    I'm not afraid.
    I'm going there.
    I want to be together.
    And I told her that I had the offer from Guzik.
    She says, why don't you take your child and go?
    [SIGHS] I said, I'm scared.
    I don't know.
    I cannot make this kind of decision.
    Now she's in the orphanage.
    She's safe.
    I don't know what's going to happen.
    She's safe now, and the main thing is her safe.
    I went once.
    I looked around, that people who were going there
    were mostly Jews.
    So it was dangerous, but I took the risk.
    I wanted to know.
    Then I went the second time, and I remember that I met, I think,
    meet.
    His brother, I think, was there also.
    I think so.
    I think it was his brother.
    And I spoke again, and I still--
    I couldn't make the decision.
    Because Irena was safe, I felt. Whether it was true or not,
    I don't know.
    But this is how I felt at the time.
    And I came back, and I had to give an answer, because Guzik
    had to know the amount of people to get out
    from Warsaw to France.
    Vittel, this was the town Vittel was going.
    The famous town, Vittel.
    And I spoke to Mrs. [? Roba ?].
    And her-- and they said to me, we don't trust the Germans.
    If you want to go, go, but we don't trust them.
    And this was somehow my point, decision.
    They helped me to decide not to go.
    And I did a good thing, because all the people went
    to Auschwitz from Hotel Polski.
    So how do you know?
    This is luck.
    Do you-- you make a decision, you don't know right or wrong.
    And I didn't have anybody close to find out,
    to ask what should I do.
    But this was my decision.
    They helped me to do it.
    And this is how it was.
    So then came the--
    so we met with friends of mine, as I told you, was home.
    And it was nice at that time to see somebody friendly.
    And they were good company, meaning.
    The entire room, the German, were working for the Germans.
    They had a picture of a Polish [? Romsky, ?]
    you know, also very famous.
    So you can imagine, we came in there.
    Then came the Polish uprising.
    It's 1944.
    And they came to our building too.
    And they took us out, the [? Roba ?] family,
    the whole [? Roba ?] family.
    Mirek the oldest one, went to fight with the uprising.
    He was in the uprising.
    And then one of the days, Helena told
    me, Helena Ellenbogen, when they were in the bunkers, hiding,
    they were going from places to places.
    Who came there?
    Mirek.
    As Helena used to come up to me to visit me there, Mirek came.
    And he said, what do you do here?
    She says, the same thing as everybody else.
    He went out, and an hour later, he
    brought her sugar, a whole box of sugar.
    She couldn't get over it.
    Then he was killed in the uprising.
    Mirek was killed, the oldest son.
    And the mother said God gave, and God took.
    She was a very religious Catholic.