Chapter 14
Alumni of Krochmalna Street
Problems with Jakub and Wladek!
The meetings with two former educators from the Orphanage, Józek Arnon and Jakub Czuk, were pleasant and moving. Both, like relics, kept the Doctor's handwritten letters written to them during a time when they were struggling in their new circumstances, in what was then Palestine, when they missed them, when they likely sought his advice. Korczak tried to lift their spirits, pointing out the future. In one of the letters, I read a laconic note that shocked me. Just a few words in the Doctor's hand: "Misza is staying until next year." These words, which weren't addressed to me, felt like a greeting from the Doctor. If Korczak mentioned my decision to stay at Krochmalna Street in a letter meant to be sent to another country, to another part of the world, it means he considered it worthy of attention. Thank you for that, Doctor!
I am amazed at how Janusz Korczak, burdened with so many activities, responsibilities, and plans for his extensive, multifaceted career, still found time for correspondence. He wrote letters to people close to him who were far away, who initially struggled and faced difficult problems. It seems to me that even today's readers, not just those fascinated by Korczak and facing intractable problems, can benefit greatly from his pedagogical insight, encouraging them to "give birth to their own thoughts in pain," because such are, after all, the most important. Despite the cataclysms of history and my own bitter experiences, how glad I would be to repeat with the Doctor that "people are good"... With unwavering conviction, however, I maintain that thinking not only had a rich past but also a tremendous future.
If we – Korczak's followers – succeed in disseminating the Doctor's works, his concepts, and pedagogical solutions, and adapting his thoughts to the new era, and at the same time, in different countries and in different languages – we have a right to well-deserved satisfaction. Korczak's thoughts have not aged, even in our commercialized, post-industrial era, and can often act as a catalyst in unleashing goodness and true humanism. I recently hosted Aronek, whom we should now call Aron. I listened to a long story about his life. He fled Poland from the German fascists to the USSR. There, of his own free will, he traveled quite far east to work in a mine. He wasn't afraid of any work, and he wanted to be useful. After a while, he loudly demanded workers' rights, guaranteed by the constitution. Soon, no longer willingly, he ended up in a Soviet labor camp, sentenced to 10 years. He dug the earth, cleared forests, was also a bricklayer, a tailor, a cook... He was surrounded not only by political prisoners but also by ordinary criminals. Our conversation turned to the Orphanage, which Aronek recalled with incredible warmth. "We were fortunate to know Korczak personally; others can now benefit from the Doctor. From his wise books, perhaps a little from our memories."
Chapter 15
Jakubs's story that appeared in Chapter 9 on page 52 (starting from the top) should be taken away - Not sure about Wladek´s story that follows...! Alumni were the older boys and girls who came as grown-ups to the Orphanage. Wladek was not alone concerning his pro-Soviet sympathies. Korczak was telling Pan Misza that he wants to finish coming to these alumni meetings, as alumni are becoming more and more hostile.
The pages in each Chapter are at least 1, 2 and and at least a half. I do not want to have any of the chapters to end with just a few lines, as I want "photopages" to stay separate.
In 1970, I met a group of my former pupils in Israel – the "children from Krochmalna." Naturally, they were no longer children. Each had gone their own way, but all had grown into brave, honest, hard-working, and socially oriented people.
I managed to visit some of them in their homes, meeting their children and grandchildren. The bond that unites these "children" of ours is (and this is no exaggeration) generally stronger than that between siblings. They don't always agree on many issues, but they share a keen interest in each other, always ready to help each other. They participate in all the Korczak events organized in Israel. They are also extremely interested in how the Korczak movement is developing around the world. All this has its own significance. Doesn't it?
How I would gladly tell the Doctor about this, without questioning his convictions about the powerful influence of genetic laws. In any case, I would emphasize that the early grafted wild trees produced noble varieties of fruit. So, he achieved something of immense value.
I am amazed at how Janusz Korczak, burdened with so many activities, responsibilities, and plans for his extensive, multifaceted career, still found time for correspondence. He wrote letters to people close to him who were far away, who initially struggled and faced difficult problems. It seems to me that even today's readers, not just those fascinated by Korczak and facing intractable problems, can benefit greatly from his pedagogical insight, encouraging them to "give birth to their own thoughts in pain," because such are, after all, the most important. Despite the cataclysms of history and my own bitter experiences, how glad I would be to repeat with the Doctor that "people are good"... With unwavering conviction, however, I maintain that thinking not only had a rich past but also a tremendous future.
If we – Korczak's followers – succeed in disseminating the Doctor's works, his concepts, and pedagogical solutions, and adapting his thoughts to the new era, and at the same time, in different countries and in different languages – we have a right to well-deserved satisfaction. Korczak's thoughts have not aged, even in our commercialized, post-industrial era, and can often act as a catalyst in unleashing goodness and true humanism. I recently hosted Aronek, whom we should now call Aron. I listened to a long story about his life. He fled Poland from the German fascists to the USSR. There, of his own free will, he traveled quite far east to work in a mine. He wasn't afraid of any work, and he wanted to be useful. After a while, he loudly demanded workers' rights, guaranteed by the constitution. Soon, no longer willingly, he ended up in a Soviet labor camp, sentenced to 10 years. He dug the earth, cleared forests, was also a bricklayer, a tailor, a cook... He was surrounded not only by political prisoners but also by ordinary criminals. Our conversation turned to the Orphanage, which Aronek recalled with incredible warmth. "We were fortunate to know Korczak personally; others can now benefit from the Doctor. From his wise books, perhaps a little from our memories."
- Right, Mr. Misza?
I'll also mention my last conversation with Szymek – once
Mrs. Stefa's favorite – a kind, gentle man. He is grateful to fate that he ended up on Krochmalna Street. He speaks of the Doctor with love and reverence. He himself
is no longer young. He still works in the construction industry, and when he talks about it, he draws his thereminology from there:
"You see," he says, "Korczak provided the most important thing: a good, solid foundation. Even if the house burns down or is demolished, you can always build a new one on such a foundation."
- The foundation – the most important thing!
Post Scriptum
to be eventually added to the present Word file (Chapter 15 with photos).
When "Korczak's Children" became "Pan Misza´s".
to be eventually added to the present Word file (Chapter 15 with photos).
When "Korczak's Children" became "Pan Misza´s".
Szmulek Gogol, Szlomo Nadel, and Jakubek Dodiuk
I knew Korczak's children didn't survive the Holocaust. Because I knew about their fate in August 1942. At the time, however, I didn't think about those who did. I saw that it was impossible. This impossibility was actually only applied to Korczak's children, who stayed with him in the Warsaw Ghetto. I never thought about the others who left Poland before the war or survived in the USSR, as many Polish Jews did.
Jakubek Dodiuk was the second child from Korczak's pre-war orphanage, Dom Sierot, that I met. It was in Paris. Thereafter, I met "Jakubek" several times. Jakubek Dodiuk was one of my father's children. Children he inherited from Korczak. Like other children my father had contact with after the war, Jakubek never morphed into "You," although my father insisted. He wanted to keep it as it was during the time of his childhood, with Jakubek (Little Jakub) and "Pan Misza", two generations. Never, Jacques Dodiuk. My father's and my trips to France always meant meetings with Jakubek. I heard many memories, several repetitions, of Jakubek from the Orphanage. I especially like the post-war one about belonging to the Orphanage:
I knew Korczak's children didn't survive the Holocaust. Because I knew about their fate in August 1942. At the time, however, I didn't think about those who did. I saw that it was impossible. This impossibility was actually only applied to Korczak's children, who stayed with him in the Warsaw Ghetto. I never thought about the others who left Poland before the war or survived in the USSR, as many Polish Jews did.
The world of "Korczak's Children" opened up to me only in Sweden, when "Orphanage Children" began visiting my father in Sweden. Suddenly, my father became Pan Misza (Mr. Misza) and "Korczak's Children" became "Pan Misza´s".
One of the first orphanage children I met was Szmulek Gogol. The year was 1971 or 1972. He arrived in Stockholm just to meet my father, for the first time after the war. At that time, I knew nothing about him besides that he was playing harmonica and had a kind of Children's harmonica orchestra. He actually brought a harmonica with him and played it for us. He also had an extra harmonica that he gave to my father, the harmonica which finally ended up at my home.
Szmulek Gogol's Orphanage memories start with a well-known custom described by numerous children: when a child lost a tooth, the Korczak would credit its previous owner with 50 groszy. When Szmulek Gogol lost his first set of teeth naturally and celebrated his fourteenth birthday (September 14, 1939), he had accumulated a considerable sum of money for the instrument he dreamed of: a harmonica. And so he received one. He quickly learned to play it.
When the Germans occupied Warsaw, he and the entire orphanage were sent to the ghetto. Living conditions there deteriorated daily. His grandmother came from Przasnysz and led him outside the ghetto walls. However, their freedom was short-lived. They soon found themselves in the ghetto. This time, in Maków Mazowiecki, and from there, they were transported to the Auschwitz concentration camp. There, for a piece of bread, Szmuel bought a harmonica from a fellow prisoner. While he was playing it, an SS officer heard him and assigned Szmulik to the famous Auschwitz camp orchestra. Their main task was to play marches for the work groups leaving for work and returning to the camp after work. According to the German plan, the music was intended to deceive and lull the vigilance of the hundreds of thousands of victims being led to their deaths through there. The orchestra also used to play near the gas chambers. Szmuel saw people heading to this area. Several times, he also recognized those close to him, among them. He couldn't bear to watch the endless dance of death, and as he played, he closed his eyes. This custom, to play with closed eyes, he continued to keep until his last days.
Even today, when meeting surviving friends, we say to ourselves: "We are not like everyone else. We don't push ourselves; we are modest, without excessive ambition, and honest. This characterizes Korczak's children. There were two reasons for this: we were orphans, and Korczak's methods had a profound influence on us."
The number of "Pan Misza´s" children that I inherited increased dramatically after I visited Israel in 1994. I was adopted by many people closely connected with Janusz Korczak and my father. The closest ones were Szlomo Nadel, Klara Maayan, and Ceśka Arnon,
Ceśka Arnon, who not only adopted me but also told me she would be my daughters' grandmother. She showed me her late husband's kingdom, the kibbutz they lived in for many years, and gave me several of Józef Arnon´s letters and notes. My daughter got several of Korczak's children's books printed after the war. About Józek, I remembered that he was a close friend of my father when both were educators at Korczak´s Bursa and that they had contact directly after the war. When my father described him to me after he visited Israel for the first time, he said that Józef became bitter. Actually similar opinion had Szlomo Nadel when he met my father, Pan Misza, after the war, Panta rei.
Szlomo Nadel
This adoption by Szlomo and Freda Nadel lasted until the end of Szlomo's life. I still remember the moment when Freda answered the phone and called out: "Szlomo! It's Romek!"
I cited earlier Jakubek Dodiuk words "we orphans". That reminds me of the fact how quickly after the war the orphans that survived in Soviet Union found ech other in Poland after the war.e orphans,
