Notes From My Polish Childhood

By Isabella Moore

This book is neither autobiography nor a family history. It is a short account of an unusual childhood and the experience of being born into a family living in a repressive political system.

The family members faced many restrictions in their daily lives but, in other respects, managed to avoid the worst excesses of the Communist regime. The book recounts how, despite many limitations, the author and her brother were protected, encouraged to flourish and were not held back by a hostile political environment until their adult years.

The book recalls the high and low points of life behind the Iron Curtain in one of the least politically conformist countries of the Soviet controlled Eastern Europe. The work records how dramatically life had changed in a previously cut-off society which, nevertheless, had always held high hopes for future progress.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brown Dog Books
• Release date: Feb 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781839522574

Book preview

Góra

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

1  Maple trees flanking Kościuszko Square

2   ‘The Bastion’, House No 2 in Kościuszko Square

3   The earliest photograph with my parents Irena and Andrzej, summer 1954

4   With my younger brother Jurek, autumn 1955

5   The portrait by Hofman

6   Irena and Andrzej as a young couple at Christmas in 1951

7   Our young family celebrating Christmas, 1957

8   Traditional Polish Easter eggs, ‘pisanki

9   The Minkiewicz women reunited after years of separation: Irena (on the left), Janina (centre) and their mother Maria (on the right), Bukowiec, 1949

10   Andrzej as a pharmacy student (centre) in front of the Faculty of Pharmacy, Wrocław University, 1950

11   Andrzej and Irena’s wedding, March 1951

12   Irena as a young teacher, circa 1955

13   Andrzej and Irena visiting the UK, Brighton 1980

14   Irena in Portsmouth with her grandson Greg, summer 2005

15   Historic Wells, Irena with her son-in-law Tom, summer 2007

16   Grandfather Mieczysław Czerwonka, mid-1920s

17   On the beach at the Baltic coast (from the left: aunt Halka, myself, Irena, Jurek and uncle Oleś), summer 1963

18   With grandmother Janina and the new Syrena car, early 1960s

19   ‘Under the Stag’ – my father’s pharmacy

20   Andrzej preparing medicine for a customer, early 1970s

21   With my father in 1957

22   With my father twenty years later, in 1977

23   Kitted out for a trip in the motorbike side-car, summer 1959

24   Andrzej and Irena on the beach at the Baltic coast, summer 1965

25   Family fun on the beach (standing from the left: Andrzej, grandmother Maria, the family friend Richard; sitting from the left: Irena, aunt Janina, myself, cousin Ewa, Jurek, cousin Christopher), summer 1965

26   With Jurek at the top of a mountain by the sign indicating the frontier between Poland and Czechoslovakia, summer 1961

27   Jurek on a bicycle, summer 1964

28   In Prague sight-seeing with Jurek, summer 1975

29   A walk with my mother and our dog Bodo, spring 1974

30   Stefan Żeromski Grammar School in Jelenia Góra

31   With Danuta (on the right) in 1970 and in 2016; a friendship which survived the test of time and distance

32   The Frédéric Chopin monument in Warsaw – symbol of the irrepressible Polish spirit

33   My photograph for the commemorative panel of the school leavers in 1971

All the photographs are from family albums and the copyright of all illustrations belongs to the author. My brother Jurek consented to the level of disclosure of private family information.

Foreword

‘The past is never dead’

William Faulkner

This book tells the story of my childhood and the first 25 years of my life. It is not meant to be a detailed memoir but rather a collection of reminiscences related to notable events from my days in Poland, the ones etched indelibly in my memory. Life in Communist Poland of the 1950s and 1960s was utterly different from the one we are used to nowadays in Western Europe. The political regime of the day didn’t make it easy but despite the vicissitudes of existence under the Communist rule, we were happy children, my brother and I, appreciating the simple pleasures life had to offer. We also benefitted from an excellent education in a remarkable school which gave us a solid foundation for life anywhere.

The book is also a tribute to my beloved parents and other family members close to my heart. Their love allowed me to reach adulthood fully prepared for life’s ups and downs.

‘Ocalić od zapomnienia’ is an old Polish saying which, when translated into English, means: ‘to save from oblivion’. It provided a guiding aim for my effort of putting pen to paper for the benefit of the next generations in the family.

I thank my husband Tom for his continuous encouragement and helpful comments throughout this endeavour.

CHAPTER 1:

JELENIA GÓRA – THE TOWN

OF MY CHILDHOOD

Jelenia Góra (in German, ‘Hirschberg im Riesengebirge’; the name ‘Hirschberg’ translated as ‘Deer Mount’) is a medium-size town situated in Lower Silesia in south-western Poland. The origins and the source of the name of the town are unknown.

The beginnings of the town date back to the 10th century and, if one believes the legend, the Polish prince Bolesław Krzywousty (Wrymouth) established here a settlement at the beginning of the 12th century. The town developed at the confluence of the trade routes between the Roman Empire, Bohemia and Eastern Europe.

In the Middle Ages and in subsequent centuries the town’s allegiance shifted between the Polish, Czech and Austrian Kingdoms. The influx of ethnic German settlers contributed to its growth and the establishment of the linen weaving industry.

In early 1524 the town adopted the Protestant faith. However, it suffered during the wars in the 17th century and later wars between Prussia and Austria. Thereafter, the city became part of the German Empire and remained in German hands until the end of the Second World War.

Jelenia Góra and the surrounding territories of Lower Silesia were incorporated into the newly established Polish People’s Republic after the Second World War and in 1945 the town acquired its Polish name, Jelenia Góra. The German citizens living there and in the surrounding region were expelled to Germany, while the town was repopulated by Poles who were displaced after the war from the parts of Poland annexed by the Soviet Union.

Luckily the town was not destroyed during the war but in later years, through the total neglect of the authorities, the houses of the old town fell into ruin and had to be rebuilt from scratch in keeping with their original architectural design.

I clearly remember a walk with my father to the Old Town’s market square where among all the ruined houses a confectioner’s shop blossomed. It was owned and run by a hard-working Turkish man who produced marvellous ice-creams as well as arrays of sweets, baklavas and cakes. What a pleasure it was to stand there in front of the counter and point out to my father which treats I wanted. But what on earth was a Turkish man doing in post-war Communist Poland? I have no answer to this question. All I know is that he didn’t last long in that place amongst the ruins.

The Old Town of today has many carefully reconstructed historical buildings, including the Town Hall and a number of baroque churches.

These days Jelenia Góra has approximately 85,000 inhabitants and has re-established itself as an attractive tourist destination, providing the gateway to the nearby Karkonosze mountains. The town is situated in the picturesque valley at the foot of the small mountain range. This was the place where my parents settled after completion of their university education, not by personal choice but by an order from the authorities, allocating them jobs in their respective professions.

Jelenia Góra was not very big in those days, perhaps it had somewhere between 40-50,000 inhabitants, with trams running along the central main First of May Street. Since those days in the early 1950s the town has doubled in size, with many modern districts consisting mainly of high-rise blocks of flats surrounding the Old Town centre.

I will not write about the town as I know it today. The more difficult task is to try to recreate its image from childhood memories and to build a picture how it appeared to me when growing up there. Inevitably this will be a snapshot view focusing on a certain part of the town where my parents lived, a few streets surrounding a small open space called Kościuszko Square.

Maple trees flanking Kościuszko Square

CHAPTER 2:

KOŚCIUSZKO SQUARE AND THE

SURROUNDING AREA

The Square was an open space in the central area of town. It was named after Tadeusz Kościuszko, a famous Polish military leader from the 18th century, who fought in the American War of Independence and acted as a leader of the Polish uprising against the Russian Empire. This urban open space contained a rather unkempt small park with a fountain (never filled with water), some flower beds, two children’s sand pits and a few scattered park benches. The indisputably positive features of this square were large maple trees, flanking it on two opposite sides. Some years later an effort was made by the town authorities to turn this open space into a children’s playground, where a few see-saws and climbing frames were installed.

Two streets run either side of this square. The larger one, in fact the main busy thoroughfare joining the eastern industrial part of the town with more residential south-western districts, was called the Avenue of the Polish Army (Aleja Wojska Polskiego). On the opposite side of the square was the rather unremarkable quiet Okrzei Street. Two residential blocks of flats stood where Okrzei Street met Kościuszko Square.

My parent’s home was situated on the third floor of one of these prewar blocks of flats built by the German inhabitants at the beginning of the 20th century.

About 100 metres away Okrzei Street passed by a square pink building. This was my primary school, unglamorously called ‘Number 7’. You could see the school from the windows of my parents’ flat.

All the schools in town were recognised by their numbers. There was ‘Number 2’ school at the opposite end of Okrzei Street. This particular school occupied a lovely old red brick building with a huge vine decorating and almost completely covering its façade.

The system of numbering and naming the schools in town was a peculiar one. For example, I can’t recall that there was a school called ‘Number 1’ or ‘Number 10’. The number ‘6’ was allocated to my secondary school, better known as ‘Ogólniak’, a nickname loosely referring to an equivalent of the British grammar school. Another popular name given to the school by its pupils was ‘Żerom’, an abbreviation of its full name: Stefan Żeromski Grammar School (Szkoła Imienia Stefana Żeromskiego).

The last primary school created in town when I still lived there was named ‘Number 14’. That school was housed in a modern, purpose-built building in the late 1960s and represented a model school of the Soviet era.

On the side of Okrzei Street opposite to my parents’ house there was a hotchpotch of single-storey buildings, including a small courtyard leading into a carpenter’s workshop. The carpenter’s family with three children lived in a small building facing the street. The children, who were our age, frequently played in the yard or on the street. I could watch them from the balcony of my parents’ flat but was not allowed to join them.

Further along Okrzei Street took a gentle turning to the left before joining the busy main commercial street, the First of May Street. A low building housing the local bakery stood close to the junction. Occasionally you could detect the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting gently in the air along this street.

Okrzei Street was paved with large cobblestones amplifying the noise of any traffic. Every morning one could hear the ‘clip-clop’ noise of the horse-drawn wooden cart on which the local farmer delivered big silver churns full of fresh milk directly from his farm.

‘The Bastion’, House No 2 in Kościuszko Square

CHAPTER 3:

‘THE BASTION’, HOUSE NO 2

IN KOŚCIUSZKO SQUARE

This was the house where my parents lived. The three-storey building displayed an unusual feature. The corner of the house facing the square and Okrzei Street was not the usual right angle but curved, giving the building a bastion-like appearance. The building therefore acquired its popular